This ebook is the product of many hours of hard work by volunteers for Standard Ebooks, and builds on the hard work of other literature lovers made possible by the public domain.
The source text and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. They may still be copyrighted in other countries, so users located outside of the United States must check their local laws before using this ebook. The creators of, and contributors to, this ebook dedicate their contributions to the worldwide public domain via the terms in the CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication. For full license information, see the Uncopyright at the end of this ebook.
Standard Ebooks is a volunteer-driven project that produces ebook editions of public domain literature using modern typography, technology, and editorial standards, and distributes them free of cost. You can download this and other ebooks carefully produced for true book lovers at standardebooks.org.
Preface
Although the Diary of Samuel Pepys has been in the hands of the public for nearly seventy years, it has not hitherto appeared in its entirety. In the original edition of 1825 scarcely half of the manuscript was printed. Lord Braybrooke added some passages as the various editions were published, but in the preface to his last edition he wrote: “there appeared indeed no necessity to amplify or in any way to alter the text of the Diary beyond the correction of a few verbal errors and corrupt passages hitherto overlooked.”
The public knew nothing as to what was left unprinted, and there was therefore a general feeling of gratification when it was announced some eighteen years ago that a new edition was to be published by the Rev. Mynors Bright, with the addition of new matter equal to a third of the whole. It was understood that at last the Diary was to appear in its entirety, but there was a passage in Mr. Bright’s preface which suggested a doubt respecting the necessary completeness. He wrote: “It would have been tedious to the reader if I had copied from the Diary the account of his daily work at the office.”
As a matter of fact, Mr. Bright left roughly speaking about one-fifth of the whole Diary still unprinted, although he transcribed the whole, and bequeathed his transcript to Magdalene College.
It has now been decided that the whole of the Diary shall be made public, with the exception of a few passages which cannot possibly be printed. It may be thought by some that these omissions are due to an unnecessary squeamishness, but it is not really so, and readers are therefore asked to have faith in the judgment of the editor. Where any passages have been omitted marks of omission are added, so that in all cases readers will know where anything has been left out.
Lord Braybrooke made the remark in his Life of Pepys, that “the cipher employed by him greatly resembles that known by the name of ‘Rich’s system.’ ” When Mr. Bright came to decipher the MS., he discovered that the shorthand system used by Pepys was an earlier one than Rich’s, viz., that of Thomas Shelton, who made his system public in 1620.1
In his various editions Lord Braybrooke gave a large number of valuable notes, in the collection and arrangement of which he was assisted by the late Mr. John Holmes of the British Museum, and the late Mr. James Yeowell, sometime subeditor of Notes and Queries. Where these notes are left unaltered in the present edition the letter “B.” has been affixed to them, but in many instances the notes have been altered and added to from later information, and in these cases no mark is affixed. A large number of additional notes are now supplied, but still much has had to be left unexplained. Many persons are mentioned in the Diary who were little known in the outer world, and in some instances it has been impossible to identify them. In other cases, however, it has been possible to throw light upon these persons by reference to different portions of the Diary itself. I would here ask the kind assistance of any reader who is able to illustrate passages that have been left unnoted. I have received much assistance from the various books in which the Diary is quoted. Every writer on the period covered by the Diary has been pleased to illustrate his subject by quotations from Pepys, and from these books it has often been possible to find information which helps to explain difficult passages in the Diary.
Much illustrative matter of value was obtained by Lord Braybrooke from the Diurnall of Thomas Rugge, which is preserved in the British Museum (Add. MSS. 10,116, 10,117). The following is the description of this interesting work as given by Lord Braybrooke:—
Mercurius Politicus Redivivus;
or, A Collection of the most materiall occurrences and transactions
in Public Affairs since Anno Dñi, 1659, untill
28 March, 1672,
serving as an annuall diurnall for future satisfaction and information, By Thomas Rugge.
Est natura hominum novitatis avida.—Plinius.
This MS. belonged, in 1693, to Thomas Grey, second Earl of Stamford. It has his autograph at the commencement, and on the sides are his arms (four quarterings) in gold. In 1819, it was sold by auction in London, as part of the collection of Thomas Lloyd, Esq. (No. 1465), and was then bought by Thomas Thorpe, bookseller. Whilst Mr. Lloyd was the possessor, the MS. was lent to Dr. Lingard, whose note of thanks to Mr. Lloyd is preserved in the volume. From Thorpe it appears to have passed to Mr. Heber, at the sale of whose MSS. in Feb. 1836, by Mr. Evans, of Pall Mall, it was purchased by the British Museum for £8 8s.
Thomas Rugge was descended from an ancient Norfolk family, and two of his ancestors are described as Aldermen of Norwich. His death has been ascertained to have occurred about 1672; and in the Diary for the preceding year he complains that on account of his declining health, his entries will be but few. Nothing has been traced of his personal circumstances beyond the fact of his having lived for fourteen years in Covent Garden, then a fashionable locality.
Another work I have found of the greatest value is the late Mr. J. E. Doyle’s Official Baronage of England (1886), which contains a mass of valuable information not easily to be obtained elsewhere. By reference to its pages I have been enabled to correct several erroneous dates in previous notes caused by a very natural confusion of years in the case of the months of January, February, and March, before it was finally fixed that the year should commence in January instead of March. More confusion has probably been introduced into history from this than from any other cause of a like nature. The reference to two years, as in the case of, say, Jan. 5, 1661–62, may appear clumsy, but it is the only safe plan of notation. If one year only is mentioned, the reader is never sure whether or not the correction has been made. It is a matter for sincere regret that the popular support was withheld from Mr. Doyle’s important undertaking, so that the author’s intention of publishing further volumes, containing the Baronies not dealt with in those already published, was frustrated.
My labours have been much lightened by the kind help which I have received from those interested in the subject. Lovers of Pepys are numerous, and I have found those I have applied to ever willing to give me such information as they possess. It is a singular pleasure, therefore, to have an opportunity of expressing publicly my thanks to these gentlemen, and among them I would especially mention Messrs. Fennell, Danby P. Fry, J. Eliot Hodgkin, Henry Jackson, J. K. Laughton, Julian Marshall, John Biddulph Martin, J. E. Matthew, Philip Norman, Richard B. Prosser, and Hugh Callendar, Fellow of Trinity College, who verified some of the passages in the manuscript. To the Master and Fellows of Magdalene College, also, I am especially indebted for allowing me to consult the treasures of the Pepysian Library, and more particularly my thanks are due to Mr. Arthur G. Peskett, the Librarian.
Particulars of the Life of Samuel Pepys
The family of Pepys is one of considerable antiquity in the east of England, and the Hon. Walter Courtenay Pepys2 says that the first mention of the name that he has been able to find is in the Hundred Rolls (Edw. I, 1273), where Richard Pepis and John Pepes are registered as holding lands in the county of Cambridge. In the next century the name of William Pepis is found in deeds relating to lands in the parish of Cottenham, co. Cambridge, dated 1329 and 1340 respectively (Cole MSS., British Museum, vol. i, p. 56; vol. xlii, p. 44). According to the Court Roll of the manor of Pelhams, in the parish of Cottenham, Thomas Pepys was “bailiff of the Abbot of Crowland in 1434,” but in spite of these references, as well as others to persons of the same name at Braintree, Essex, Depedale, Norfolk, etc., the first ancestor of the existing branches of the family from whom Mr. Walter Pepys is able to trace an undoubted descent, is “William Pepis the elder, of Cottenham, co. Cambridge,” whose will is dated 20th March, 1519.
In 1852 a curious manuscript volume, bound in vellum, and entitled Liber Talboti Pepys de instrumentis ad Feoda pertinentibus exemplificatis, was discovered in an old chest in the parish church of Bolney, Sussex, by the vicar, the Rev. John Dale, who delivered it to Henry Pepys, Bishop of Worcester, and the book is still in the possession of the family. This volume contains various genealogical entries, and among them are references to the Thomas Pepys of 1434 mentioned above, and to the later William Pepys. The reference to the latter runs thus:—
“A Note written out of an old Book of my uncle William Pepys.”
“William Pepys, who died at Cottenham, 10 H. 8, was brought up by the Abbot of Crowland, in Huntingdonshire, and he was born in Dunbar, in Scotland, a gentleman, whom the said Abbot did make his Bailiff of all his lands in Cambridgeshire, and placed him in Cottenham, which William aforesaid had three sons, Thomas, John, and William, to whom Margaret was mother naturally, all of whom left issue.”
In illustration of this entry we may refer to the Diary of June 12th, 1667, where it is written that Roger Pepys told Samuel that “we did certainly come out of Scotland with the Abbot of Crowland.” The references to various members of the family settled in Cottenham and elsewhere, at an early date already alluded to, seem to show that there is little foundation for this very positive statement.
With regard to the standing of the family, Mr. Walter Pepys writes:—
“The first of the name in 1273 were evidently but small copyholders. Within 150 years (1420) three or four of the name had entered the priesthood, and others had become connected with the monastery of Croyland as bailiffs, etc. In 250 years (1520) there were certainly two families: one at Cottenham, co. Cambridge, and another at Braintree, co. Essex, in comfortable circumstances as yeomen farmers. Within fifty years more (1563), one of the family, Thomas, of Southcreeke, co. Norfolk, had entered the ranks of the gentry sufficiently to have his coat-of-arms recognized by the Herald Cooke, who conducted the Visitation of Norfolk in that year. From that date the majority of the family have been in good circumstances, with perhaps more than the average of its members taking up public positions.”
There is a very general notion that Samuel Pepys was of plebeian birth because his father followed the trade of a tailor, and his own remark, “But I believe indeed our family were never considerable,”3 has been brought forward in corroboration of this view, but nothing can possibly be more erroneous, and there can be no doubt that the Diarist was really proud of his descent. This may be seen from the inscription on one of his bookplates, where he is stated to be:—
“Samuel Pepys of Brampton in Huntingdonshire, Esq., Secretary of the Admiralty to his Maty King Charles the Second: Descended from ye ancient family of Pepys of Cottenham in Cambridgeshire.”
Many members of the family have greatly distinguished themselves since the Diarist’s day, and of them Mr. Foss wrote (Judges of England, vol. vi, p. 467):—
“In the family of Pepys is illustrated every gradation of legal rank from Reader of an Inn of Court to Lord High Chancellor of England.”
The William Pepys of Cottenham who commences the pedigree had three sons and three daughters; from the eldest son (Thomas) descended the first Norfolk branch, from the second son (John Pepys of Southcreeke) descended the second Norfolk branch, and from the third son (William) descended the Impington branch. The latter William had four sons and two daughters; two of these sons were named Thomas, and as they were both living at the same time one was distinguished as “the black” and the other as “the red.” Thomas the red had four sons and four daughters. John, born 1601, was the third son, and he became the father of Samuel the Diarist. Little is known of John Pepys, but we learn when the Diary opens that he was settled in London as a tailor. He does not appear to have been a successful man, and his son on August 26th, 1661, found that there was only £45 owing to him, and that he owed about the same sum. He was a citizen of London in 1650, when his son Samuel was admitted to Magdalene College, but at an earlier period he appears to have had business relations with Holland.4
In August, 1661, John Pepys retired to a small property at Brampton (worth about £80 per annum),5 which had been left to him by his eldest brother, Robert Pepys, where he died in 1680.6
His wife Margaret,7 whose maiden name has not been discovered, died on the 25th March, 1667, also at Brampton. The family of these two consisted of six sons and five daughters: John (born 1632, died 1640), Samuel (born 1633, died 1703), Thomas (born 1634, died 1664), Jacob (born 1637, died young), Robert (born 1638, died young), and John (born 1641, died 1677); Mary (born 1627), Paulina (born 1628), Esther (born 1630), Sarah (born 1635; these four girls all died young), and Paulina (born 1640, died 1680), who married John Jackson of Brampton, and had two sons, Samuel and John. The latter was made his heir by Samuel Pepys.
Samuel Pepys was born on the 23rd February, 1632–3, but the place of birth is not known with certainty. Samuel Knight, D. D., author of the Life of Colet, who was a connection of the family (having married Hannah Pepys, daughter of Talbot Pepys of Impington), says positively that it was at Brampton. His statement cannot be corroborated by the registers of Brampton church, as these records do not commence until the year 1654.
Samuel’s early youth appears to have been spent pretty equally between town and country. When he and his brother Tom were children they lived with a nurse (Goody Lawrence) at Kingsland,8 and in after life Samuel refers to his habit of shooting with bow and arrow in the fields around that place.9 He then went to school at Huntingdon,10 from which he was transferred to St. Paul’s School in London. He remained at the latter place until 1650, early in which year his name was entered as a sizar on the boards of Trinity Hall, Cambridge.11 He was admitted on the 21st June, but subsequently he transferred his allegiance to Magdalene College, where he was admitted a sizar on the 1st October of this same year. He did not enter into residence until March 5th, 1650–51,12 but in the following month he was elected to one of Mr. Spendluffe’s scholarships, and two years later (October 14th, 1653) he was preferred to one on Dr. John Smith’s foundation.13
Little or nothing is known of Pepys’s career at college, but soon after obtaining the Smith scholarship he got into trouble, and, with a companion, was admonished for being drunk.14
His time, however, was not wasted, and there is evidence that he carried into his busy life a fair stock of classical learning and a true love of letters. Throughout his life he looked back with pleasure to the time he spent at the University, and his college was remembered in his will when he bequeathed his valuable library. In this same year, 1653, he graduated B. A.15 On the 1st of December, 1655, when he was still without any settled means of support, he married Elizabeth St. Michel, a beautiful and portionless girl of fifteen. Her father, Alexander Marchant, Sieur de St. Michel, was of a good family in Anjou, and son of the High Sheriff of Baugé (in Anjou). Having turned Huguenot at the age of twenty-one, when in the German service, his father disinherited him, and he also lost the reversion of some £20,000 sterling which his uncle, a rich French canon, intended to bequeath to him before he left the Roman Catholic church. He came over to England in the retinue of Henrietta Maria on her marriage with Charles I, but the queen dismissed him on finding that he was a Protestant and did not attend mass. Being a handsome man, with courtly manners, he found favour in the sight of the widow of an Irish squire (daughter of Sir Francis Kingsmill), who married him against the wishes of her family. After the marriage, Alexander St. Michel and his wife having raised some fifteen hundred pounds, started for France in the hope of recovering some part of the family property. They were unfortunate in all their movements, and on their journey to France were taken prisoners by the Dunkirkers, who stripped them of all their property. They now settled at Bideford in Devonshire, and here or near by were born Elizabeth and the rest of the family. At a later period St. Michel served against the Spaniards at the taking of Dunkirk and Arras, and settled at Paris. He was an unfortunate man throughout life, and his son Balthasar says of him: “My father at last grew full of whimsies and propositions of perpetual motion, etc., to kings, princes and others, which soaked his pocket, and brought all our family so low by his not minding anything else, spending all he had got and getting no other employment to bring in more.” While he was away from Paris, some “deluding papists” and “pretended devouts” persuaded Madame St. Michel to place her daughter in the nunnery of the Ursulines. When the father heard of this, he hurried back, and managed to get Elizabeth out of the nunnery after she had been there twelve days. Thinking that France was a dangerous place to live in, he removed his family to England, where soon afterwards his daughter was married, although, as Lord Braybrooke remarks, we are not told how she became acquainted with Pepys. St. Michel was greatly pleased that his daughter had become the wife of a true Protestant, and she herself said to him, kissing his eyes: “Dear father, though in my tender years I was by my low fortune in this world deluded to popery, by the fond dictates thereof I have now (joined with my riper years, which give me some understanding) a man to my husband too wise and one too religious to the Protestant religion to suffer my thoughts to bend that way any more.”16
Alexander St. Michel kept up his character for fecklessness through life, and took out patents for curing smoking chimneys, purifying water, and moulding bricks. In 1667 he petitioned the king, asserting that he had discovered King Solomon’s gold and silver mines, and the Diary of the same date contains a curious commentary upon these visions of wealth:—
“March 29, 1667. 4s. a week which his (Balty St. Michel’s) father receives of the French church is all the subsistence his father and mother have, and about £20 a year maintains them.”
As already noted, Pepys was married on December 1st, 1655. This date is given on the authority of the Registers of St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster,17 but strangely enough Pepys himself supposed his wedding day to have been October 10th. Lord Braybrooke remarks on this,
“It is notorious that the registers in those times were very ill kept, of which we have here a striking instance. … Surely a man who kept a diary could not have made such a blunder.”
What is even more strange than Pepys’s conviction that he was married on October 10th is Mrs. Pepys’s agreement with him: On October 10th, 1666, we read,
“So home to supper, and to bed, it being my wedding night, but how many years I cannot tell; but my wife says ten.”
Here Mrs. Pepys was wrong, as it was eleven years; so she may have been wrong in the day also. In spite of the high authority of Mr. and Mrs. Pepys on a question so interesting to them both, we must accept the register as conclusive on this point until further evidence of its incorrectness is forthcoming.
Sir Edward Montagu (afterwards Earl of Sandwich), who was Pepys’s first cousin one remove (Pepys’s grandfather and Montagu’s mother being brother and sister), was a true friend to his poor kinsman, and he at once held out a helping hand to the imprudent couple, allowing them to live in his house. John Pepys does not appear to have been in sufficiently good circumstances to pay for the education of his son, and it seems probable that Samuel went to the university under his influential cousin’s patronage. At all events he owed his success in life primarily to Montagu, to whom he appears to have acted as a sort of agent.
On March 26th, 1658, he underwent a successful operation for the stone, and we find him celebrating each anniversary of this important event of his life with thanksgiving. He went through life with little trouble on this score, but when he died at the age of seventy a nest of seven stones was found in his left kidney.18
In June, 1659, Pepys accompanied Sir Edward Montagu in the Naseby, when the Admiral of the Baltic Fleet and Algernon Sidney went to the Sound as joint commissioners. It was then that Montagu corresponded with Charles II, but he had to be very secret in his movements on account of the suspicions of Sidney. Pepys knew nothing of what was going on, as he confesses in the Diary:
“I do from this raise an opinion of him, to be one of the most secret men in the world, which I was not so convinced of before.”19
On Pepys’s return to England he obtained an appointment in the office of Mr., afterwards Sir George Downing, who was one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the Exchequer. He was clerk to Downing when he commenced his diary on January 1st, 1660, and then lived in Axe Yard, close by King Street, Westminster, a place on the site of which was built Fludyer Street. This, too, was swept away for the Government offices in 1864–65. His salary was £50 a year.20 Downing invited Pepys to accompany him to Holland, but he does not appear to have been very pressing, and a few days later in this same January he got him appointed one of the Clerks of the Council, but the recipient of the favour does not appear to have been very grateful. A great change was now about to take place in Pepys’s fortunes, for in the following March he was made secretary to Sir Edward Montagu in his expedition to bring about the Restoration of Charles II, and on the 23rd he went on board the Swiftsure with Montagu. On the 30th they transferred themselves to the Naseby. Owing to this appointment of Pepys we have in the Diary a very full account of the daily movements of the fleet until, events having followed their natural course, Montagu had the honour of bringing Charles II to Dover, where the King was received with great rejoicing. Several of the ships in the fleet had names which were obnoxious to Royalists, and on the 23rd May the King came on board the Naseby and altered there—the Naseby to the Charles, the Richard to the Royal James, the Speaker to the Mary, the Winsby to the Happy Return, the Wakefield to the Richmond, the Lambert to the Henrietta, the Cheriton to the Speedwell, and the Bradford to the Success.21 This portion of the Diary is of particular interest, and the various excursions in Holland which the Diarist made are described in a very amusing manner.
When Montagu and Pepys had both returned to London, the former told the latter that he had obtained the promise of the office of Clerk of the Acts for him. Many difficulties occurred before Pepys actually secured the place, so that at times he was inclined to accept the offers which were made to him to give it up. General Monk was anxious to get the office for Mr. Turner, who was Chief Clerk in the Navy Office, but in the end Montagu’s influence secured it for Pepys. Then Thomas Barlow, who had been appointed Clerk of the Acts in 1638, turned up, and appeared likely to become disagreeable. Pepys bought him off with an annuity of £100, which he did not have to pay for any length of time, as Barlow died in February, 1664–65. It is not in human nature to be greatly grieved at the death of one to whom you have to pay an annuity, and Pepys expresses his feelings in a very naive manner:—
“For which God knows my heart I could be as sorry as is possible for one to be for a stranger by whose death he gets £100 per annum, he being a worthy honest man; but when I come to consider the providence of God by this means unexpectedly to give me £100 a year more in my estate, I have cause to bless God, and do it from the bottom of my heart.”22
This office was one of considerable importance, for not only was the holder the secretary or registrar of the Navy Board, but he was also one of the principal officers of the navy, and, as member of the board, of equal rank with the other commissioners. This office Pepys held during the whole period of the Diary, and we find him constantly fighting for his position, as some of the other members wished to reduce his rank merely to that of secretary. In his contention Pepys appears to have been in the right, and a valuable MS. volume in the Pepysian library contains an extract from the Old Instructions of about 1649, in which this very point is argued out. The volume appears to have been made up by William Penn the Quaker, from a collection of manuscripts on the affairs of the navy found in his father’s, Sir William Penn’s closet. It was presented to Charles II, with a dedication ending thus:—
“I hope enough to justifie soe much freedome with a Prince that is so easie to excuse things well intended as this is
It does not appear how the volume came into Pepys’s possession. It may have been given him by the king, or he may have taken it as a perquisite of his office. The book has an index, which was evidently added by Pepys; in this are these entries, which show his appreciation of the contents of the MS.:—
The following description of the duty of the Clerk of the Acts shows the importance of the office, and the statement that if the clerk is not fitted to act as a commissioner he is a blockhead and unfit for his employment is particularly racy, and not quite the form of expression one would expect to find in an official document:
“Clerke of the Acts.
“The clarke of the Navye’s duty depends principally upon rating (by the Board’s approbation) of all bills and recording of them, and all orders, contracts & warrants, making up and casting of accounts, framing and writing answers to letters, orders, and commands from the Council, Lord High Admiral, or Commissioners of the Admiralty, and he ought to be a very able accountant, well versed in Navall affairs and all inferior officers dutyes.
“It hath been objected by some that the Clarke of the Acts ought to be subordinate to the rest of the Commissioners, and not to be joined in equall power with them, although he was so constituted from the first institution, which hath been an opinion only of some to keep him at a distance, least he might be thought too forward if he had joint power in discovering or arguing against that which peradventure private interest would have concealed; it is certaine no man sees more of the Navye’s Transactions than himselfe, and possibly may speak as much to the project if required, or else he is a blockhead, and not fit for that imployment. But why he should not make as able a Commissioner as a Shipp wright let wise men judge.”
In Pepys’s patent the salary is stated to be £33 6s. 8d., but this was only the ancient “fee out of the Exchequer,” which had been attached to the office for more than a century. Pepys’s salary had been previously fixed at £350 a-year.
Neither of the two qualifications upon which particular stress is laid in the above Instructions was possessed by Pepys. He knew nothing about the navy, and so little of accounts that apparently he learned the multiplication table for the first time in July, 1661. We see from the particulars given in the Diary how hard he worked to obtain the knowledge required in his office, and in consequence of his assiduity he soon became a model official. When Pepys became Clerk of the Acts he took up his residence at the Navy Office, a large building situated between Crutched Friars and Seething Lane, with an entrance in each of those places. On July 4th, 1660, he went with Commissioner Pett to view the houses, and was very pleased with them, but he feared that the more influential officers would jockey him out of his rights. His fears were not well grounded, and on July 18th he records the fact that he dined in his own apartments, which were situated in the Seething Lane front.
On July 24th, 1660, Pepys was sworn in as Lord Sandwich’s deputy for a Clerkship of the Privy Seal. This office, which he did not think much of at first, brought him “in for a time £3 a day.” In June, 1660, he was made Master of Arts by proxy, and soon afterwards he was sworn in as a justice of the Peace for Middlesex, Essex, Kent, and Hampshire, the counties in which the chief dockyards were situated.
Pepys’s life is written large in the Diary, and it is not necessary here to do more than catalogue the chief incidents of it in chronological order. In February, 1661–62, he was chosen a Younger Brother of the Trinity House, and in April, 1662, when on an official visit to Portsmouth Dockyard, he was made a burgess of the town. In August of the same year he was appointed one of the commissioners for the affairs of Tangier. Soon afterwards Thomas Povy, the treasurer, got his accounts into a muddle, and showed himself incompetent for the place, so that Pepys replaced him as treasurer to the commission.
In March, 1663–64, the Corporation of the Royal Fishery was appointed, with the Duke of York as governor, and thirty-two assistants, mostly “very great persons.” Through Lord Sandwich’s influence Pepys was made one of these.
The time was now arriving when Pepys’s general ability and devotion to business brought him prominently into notice. During the Dutch war the unreadiness of the ships, more particularly in respect to victualling, was the cause of great trouble. The Clerk of the Acts did his utmost to set things right, and he was appointed Surveyor-General of the Victualling Office. The kind way in which Mr. Coventry proposed him as “the fittest man in England” for the office, and the Duke of York’s expressed approval, greatly pleased him.
During the fearful period when the Plague was raging, Pepys stuck to his business, and the chief management of naval affairs devolved upon him, for the meetings at the Navy Office were but thinly attended. In a letter to Coventry he wrote:—
“The sickness in general thickens round us, and particularly upon our neighbourhood. You, sir, took your turn of the sword; I must not, therefore, grudge to take mine of the pestilence.”
At this time his wife was living at Woolwich, and he himself with his clerks at Greenwich; one maid only remained in the house in London.
Pepys rendered special service at the time of the Fire of London. He communicated the king’s wishes to the Lord Mayor, and he saved the Navy Office by having up workmen from Woolwich and Deptford Dockyards to pull down the houses around, and so prevent the spread of the flames.
When peace was at length concluded with the Dutch, and people had time to think over the disgrace which the country had suffered by the presence of De Ruyter’s fleet in the Medway, it was natural that a public inquiry into the management of the war should be undertaken. A Parliamentary Committee was appointed in October, 1667, to inquire into the matter. Pepys made a statement which satisfied the committee, but for months afterwards he was continually being summoned to answer some charge, so that he confesses himself as mad to “become the hackney of this office in perpetual trouble and vexation that need it least.”23
At last a storm broke out in the House of Commons against the principal officers of the navy, and some members demanded that they should be put out of their places. In the end they were ordered to be heard in their own defence at the bar of the House. The whole labour of the defence fell upon Pepys, but having made out his case with great skill, he was rewarded by a most unexpected success. On the 5th March, 1667–68, he made the great speech of his life, and spoke for three hours, with the effect that he so far removed the prejudice against the officers of the Navy Board, that no further proceedings were taken in parliament on the subject. He was highly praised for his speech, and he was naturally much elated at his brilliant success.
About the year 1664 we first hear of a defect in Pepys’s eyesight. He consulted the celebrated Cocker, and began to wear green spectacles, but gradually this defect became more pronounced, and on the 31st of May, 1669, he wrote the last words in his Diary:
“And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer, having done now as long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand.”
He feared blindness and was forced to desist, to his lasting regret and our great loss.
At this time he obtained leave of absence from the duties of his office, and he set out on a tour through France and Holland accompanied by his wife. In his travels he was true to the occupation of his life, and made collections respecting the French and Dutch navies. Some months after his return he spoke of his journey as having been “full of health and content,” but no sooner had he and his wife returned to London than the latter became seriously ill with a fever. The disease took a fatal turn, and on the 10th of November, 1669, Elizabeth Pepys died at the early age of twenty-nine years, to the great grief of her husband. She died at their house in Crutched Friars, and was buried at St. Olave’s Church, Hart Street, where Pepys erected a monument to her memory with this inscription:
H. S. E.
Cui
Cunas dedit Somersetia, Octob: 23, 1640.
Patrem e præclarâ familiâ
de St Michel, Andegavia,
Matrem e nobili Stirpe
Cliffodorum, Cumbria,
Elizabetha Pepys,
Samuelis Pepys (Classi Regiæ ab Actis) Uxor.
Quæ in Cænobio primum, Aulâ dein educata Gallicâ,
Utriusque unà claruit virtutibus,
Formâ, Artibus, Linguis, cultissima.
Prolem enixa, quia parem non potuit, nullam.
Huic demum placidè cum valedixerat
(Confecto per amæniora ferè Europsæ itinere)
Potiorem abiit redux lustratura mundum.
Obiit 10 Novembris,
Ætatis 29.
Conjugii 15.
Domini 1669.
Arms.—Sable, on a Bend Or, between two Nags’ Heads erased Argent, three Fleurs de Lis of the first; impaling Ermine, three Roses.
Pepys’s successful speech at the bar of the House of Commons made him anxious to become a member, and the Duke of York and Sir William Coventry heartily supported him in his resolution. An opening occurred in due course, at Aldborough, in Suffolk, owing to the death of Sir Robert Brooke in 1669,24 but, in consequence of the death of his wife, Pepys was unable to take part in the election. His cause was warmly espoused by the Duke of York and by Lord Henry Howard (afterwards Earl of Norwich and sixth Duke of Norfolk), but the efforts of his supporters failed, and the contest ended in favour of John Bruce, who represented the popular party. In November, 1673, Pepys was more successful, and was elected for Castle Rising on the elevation of the member, Sir Robert Paston, to the peerage as Viscount Yarmouth. His unsuccessful opponent, Mr. Offley, petitioned against the return, and the election was determined to be void by the Committee of Privileges. The Parliament, however, being prorogued the following month without the House’s coming to any vote on the subject, Pepys was permitted to retain his seat. A most irrelevant matter was introduced into the inquiry, and Pepys was charged with having a crucifix in his house, from which it was inferred that he was “a papist or popishly inclined.” The charge was grounded upon reported assertions of Sir John Banks and the Earl of Shaftesbury, which they did not stand to when examined on the subject, and the charge was not proved to be good.25 It will be seen from the extracts from the Journals of the House of Commons given in the note that Pepys denied ever having had an altar or crucifix in his house. In the Diary there is a distinct statement of his possession of a crucifix, but it is not clear from the following extracts whether it was not merely a varnished engraving of the Crucifixion which he possessed:
July 20, 1666. “So I away to Lovett’s, there to see how my picture goes on to be varnished, a fine crucifix which will be very fine.”
August 2. “At home find Lovett, who showed me my crucifix, which will be very fine when done.”
Nov. 3. “This morning comes Mr. Lovett and brings me my print of the Passion, varnished by him, and the frame which is indeed very fine, though not so fine as I expected; but pleases me exceedingly.”
Whether he had or had not a crucifix in his house was a matter for himself alone, and the interference of the House of Commons was a gross violation of the liberty of the subject.
In connection with Lord Shaftesbury’s part in this matter, the late Mr. W. D. Christie found the following letter to Sir Thomas Meres among the papers at St. Giles’s House, Dorsetshire:—
“Exeter House, February 10th, 1674.
“Sir—That there might be no mistake, I thought best to put my answer in writing to those questions that yourself, Sir William Coventry, and Mr. Garroway were pleased to propose to me this morning from the House of Commons, which is that I never designed to be a witness against any man for what I either heard or saw, and therefore did not take so exact notice of things inquired of as to be able to remember them so clearly as is requisite to do in a testimony upon honour or oath, or to so great and honourable a body as the House of Commons, it being some years distance since I was at Mr. Pepys his lodging. Only that particular of an altar is so signal that I must needs have remembered it had I seen any such thing, which I am sure I do not. This I desire you to communicate with Sir William Coventry and Mr. Garroway to be delivered as my answer to the House of Commons, it being the same I gave you this morning.
After reading this letter Sir William Coventry very justly remarked, “There are a great many more Catholics than think themselves so, if having a crucifix will make one.” Mr. Christie resented the remarks on Lord Shaftesbury’s part in this persecution of Pepys made by Lord Braybrooke, who said, “Painful indeed is it to reflect to what length the bad passions which party violence inflames could in those days carry a man of Shaftesbury’s rank, station, and abilities.” Mr. Christie observes, “It is clear from the letter to Meres that Shaftesbury showed no malice and much scrupulousness when a formal charge, involving important results, was founded on his loose private conversations.”26 This would be a fair vindication if the above attack upon Pepys stood alone, but we shall see later on that Shaftesbury was the moving spirit in a still more unjustifiable attack.
Lord Sandwich died heroically in the naval action in Southwold Bay, and on June 24th, 1672, his remains were buried with some pomp in Westminster Abbey. There were eleven earls among the mourners, and Pepys, as the first among “the six Bannerolles,” walked in the procession.
About this time Pepys was called from his old post of Clerk of the Acts to the higher office of Secretary of the Admiralty. His first appointment was a piece of favouritism, but it was due to his merits alone that he obtained the secretaryship. In the summer of 1673, the Duke of York having resigned all his appointments on the passing of the Test Act, the King put the Admiralty into commission, and Pepys was appointed Secretary for the Affairs of the Navy.27 He was thus brought into more intimate connection with Charles II, who took the deepest interest in shipbuilding and all naval affairs. The Duke of Buckingham said of the King:—
“The great, almost the only pleasure of his mind to which he seemed addicted was shipping and sea affairs, which seemed to be so much his talent for knowledge as well as inclination, that a war of that kind was rather an entertainment than any disturbance to his thoughts.”28
When Pepys ceased to be Clerk of the Acts he was able to obtain the appointment for his clerk, Thomas Hayter, and his brother, John Pepys, who held it jointly. The latter does not appear to have done much credit to Samuel. He was appointed Clerk to the Trinity House in 1670 on his brother’s recommendation, and when he died in 1677 he was in debt £300 to his employers, and this sum Samuel had to pay. In 1676 Pepys was Master of the Trinity House, and in the following year Master of the Clothworkers’ Company, when he presented a richly-chased silver cup, which is still used at the banquets of the company. On Tuesday, 10th September, 1677, the Feast of the Hon. Artillery Company was held at Merchant Taylors’ Hall, when the Duke of York, the Duke of Somerset, the Lord Chancellor, and other distinguished persons were present. On this occasion Viscount Newport, Sir Joseph Williamson, and Samuel Pepys officiated as stewards.29
About this time it is evident that the secretary carried himself with some haughtiness as a ruler of the navy, and that this was resented by some. An amusing instance will be found in the Parliamentary Debates. On May 11th, 1678, the King’s verbal message to quicken the supply was brought in by Mr. Secretary Williamson, when Pepys spoke to this effect:
“When I promised that the ships should be ready by the 30th of May, it was upon the supposition of the money for 90 ships proposed by the King and voted by you, their sizes and rates, and I doubt not by that time to have 90 ships, and if they fall short it will be only from the failing of the Streights ships coming home and those but two. …
“Sir Robert Howard then rose and said, ‘Pepys here speaks rather like an Admiral than a Secretary, “I” and “we.” I wish he knows half as much of the Navy as he pretends.’ ”30
Pepys was chosen by the electors of Harwich as their member in the short Parliament that sat from March to July, 1679, his colleague being Sir Anthony Deane, but both members were sent to the Tower in May on a baseless charge, and they were superseded in the next Parliament that met on the 17th October, 1679.
The high-handed treatment which Pepys underwent at this time exhibits a marked instance of the disgraceful persecution connected with the so-called Popish plot. He was totally unconnected with the Roman Catholic party, but his association with the Duke of York was sufficient to mark him as a prey for the men who initiated this “Terror” of the seventeenth century. Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey came to his death in October, 1678, and in December Samuel Atkins, Pepys’s clerk, was brought to trial as an accessory to his murder.31 Shaftesbury and the others not having succeeded in getting at Pepys through his clerk, soon afterwards attacked him more directly, using the infamous evidence of Colonel Scott. Much light has lately been thrown upon the underhand dealings of this miscreant by Mr. G. D. Scull, who printed privately in 1883 a valuable work entitled, “Dorothea Scott, otherwise Gotherson, and Hogben of Egerton House, Kent, 1611–1680.”
John Scott (calling himself Colonel Scott) ingratiated himself into acquaintance with Major Gotherson, and sold to the latter large tracts of land in Long Island, to which he had no right whatever. Dorothea Gotherson, after her husband’s death, took steps to ascertain the exact state of her property, and obtained the assistance of Colonel Francis Lovelace, Governor of New York. Scott’s fraud was discovered, and a petition for redress was presented to the King. The result of this was that the Duke of York commanded Pepys “to collect evidence against Scott, and he accordingly brought together a great number of depositions and information as to his dishonest proceedings in New England, Long Island, Barbados, France, Holland, and England,”32 and these papers are preserved among the Rawlinson Manuscripts in the Bodleian. Scott had his revenge, and accused Pepys of betraying the Navy by sending secret particulars to the French Government, and of a design to dethrone the king and extirpate the Protestant religion. Pepys and Sir Anthony Deane were committed to the Tower under the Speaker’s warrant on May 22nd, 1679, and Pepys’s place at the Admiralty was filled by the appointment of Thomas Hayter. When the two prisoners were brought to the bar of the King’s Bench on the 2nd of June, the Attorney-General refused bail, but subsequently they were allowed to find security for £30,000.33
Pepys was put to great expense in collecting evidence against Scott and obtaining witnesses to clear himself of the charges brought against him. He employed his brother-in-law, Balthasar St. Michel, to collect evidence in France, as he himself explains in a letter to the Commissioners of the Navy:—
“His Majesty of his gracious regard to me, and the justification of my innocence, was then pleased at my humble request to dispence with my said brother going (with ye ship about that time designed for Tangier) and to give leave to his going into France (the scene of ye villainies then in practice against me), he being the only person whom (from his relation to me, together with his knowledge in the place and language, his known diligence and particular affection towards mee) I could at that time and in soe greate a cause pitch on, for committing the care of this affaire of detecting the practice of my enemies there.”34
In the end Scott refused to acknowledge to the truth of his original deposition, and the prisoners were relieved from their bail on February 12th, 1679–80. John James, a butler previously in Pepys’s service,35 confessed on his deathbed in 1680 that he had trumped up the whole story relating to his former master’s change of religion at the instigation of Mr. William Harbord, M.P. for Thetford.
Pepys wrote on July 1st, 1680, to Mrs. Skinner:
“I would not omit giving you the knowledge of my having at last obtained what with as much reason I might have expected a year ago, my full discharge from the bondage I have, from one villain’s practice, so long lain under.”36
William Harbord, of Cadbury, co. Somerset, second son of Sir Charles Harbord, whom he succeeded in 1682 as Surveyor. General of the Land Revenues of the Crown, was Pepys’s most persistent enemy. Several papers referring to Harbord’s conduct were found at Scott’s lodging after his flight, and are now preserved among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian. One of these was the following memorandum, which shows pretty plainly Pepys’s opinion of Harbord:—
“That about the time of Mr. Pepys’s surrender of his employment of Secretary of the Admiralty, Capt. Russell and myself being in discourse about Mr. Pepys, Mr. Russell delivered himself in these or other words to this purport: That he thought it might be of advantage to both, if a good understanding were had between his brother Harbord and Mr. Pepys, asking me to propose it to Mr. Pepys, and he would to his brother, which I agreed to, and went immediately from him to Mr. Pepys, and telling him of this discourse, he gave me readily this answer in these very words: That he knew of no service Mr. Harbord could doe him, or if he could, he should be the last man in England he would receive any from.”37
Besides Scott’s dishonesty in his dealings with Major Gotherson, it came out that he had cheated the States of Holland out of £7,000, in consequence of which he was hanged in effigy at the Hague in 1672. In 1682 he fled from England to escape from the law, as he had been guilty of wilful murder by killing George Butler, a hackney coachman, and he reached Norway in safety, where he remained till 1696. In that year some of his influential friends obtained a pardon for him from William III, and he returned to England.38
In October, 1680, Pepys attended on Charles II at Newmarket, and there he took down from the King’s own mouth the narrative of his Majesty’s escape from Worcester, which was first published in 1766 by Sir David Dalrymple (Lord Hailes) from the MS., which now remains in the Pepysian library both in shorthand and in longhand.39 It is creditable to Charles II and the Duke of York that both brothers highly appreciated the abilities of Pepys, and availed themselves of his knowledge of naval affairs.
In the following year there was some chance that Pepys might retire from public affairs, and take upon himself the headship of one of the chief Cambridge colleges. On the death of Sir Thomas Page, the Provost of King’s College, in August, 1681, Mr. S. Maryon, a Fellow of Clare Hall, recommended Pepys to apply to the King for the appointment, being assured that the royal mandate if obtained would secure his election. He liked the idea, but replied that he believed Colonel Legge (afterwards Lord Dartmouth) wanted to get the office for an old tutor. Nothing further seems to have been done by Pepys, except that he promised if he were chosen to give the whole profit of the first year, and at least half of that of each succeeding year, to “be dedicated to the general and public use of the college.” In the end Dr. John Coplestone was appointed to the post.
On May 22nd, 1681, the Rev. Dr. Milles, rector of St. Olave’s, who is so often mentioned in the Diary, gave Pepys a certificate as to his attention to the services of the Church. It is not quite clear what was the occasion of the certificate, but probably the Diarist wished to have it ready in case of another attack upon him in respect to his tendency towards the Church of Rome.
Early in 1682 Pepys accompanied the Duke of York to Scotland, and narrowly escaped shipwreck by the way. Before letters could arrive in London to tell of his safety, the news came of the wreck of the Gloucester (the Duke’s ship), and of the loss of many lives. His friends’ anxiety was relieved by the arrival of a letter which Pepys wrote from Edinburgh to Hewer on May 8th, in which he detailed the particulars of the adventure. The Duke invited him to go on board the Gloucester frigate, but he preferred his own yacht (the Catherine), in which he had more room, and in consequence of his resolution he saved himself from the risk of drowning. On May 5th the frigate struck upon the sand called “The Lemon and Oar,” about sixteen leagues from the mouth of the Humber. This was caused by the carelessness of the pilot, to whom Pepys imputed “an obstinate overweening in opposition to the contrary opinions of Sir I. Berry, his master, mates, Col. Legge, the Duke himself, and several others, concurring unanimously in not being yet clear of the sands.” The Duke and his party escaped, but numbers were drowned in the sinking ship, and it is said that had the wreck occurred two hours earlier, and the accompanying yachts been at the distance they had previously been, not a soul would have escaped.
Pepys stayed in Edinburgh for a short time, and the Duke of York allowed him to be present at two councils. He then visited; with Colonel George Legge, some of the principal places in the neighbourhood, such as Stirling, Linlithgow, Hamilton, and Glasgow. The latter place he describes as “a very extraordinary town indeed for beauty and trade, much superior to any in Scotland.”40
Pepys had now been out of office for some time, but he was soon to have employment again. Tangier, which was acquired at the marriage of the King to Katharine of Braganza, had long been an incumbrance, and it was resolved at last to destroy the place. Colonel Legge (now Lord Dartmouth) was in August, 1683, constituted Captain-General of his Majesty’s forces in Africa, and Governor of Tangier, and sent with a fleet of about twenty sail to demolish and blow up the works, destroy the harbour, and bring home the garrison. Pepys received the King’s commands to accompany Lord Dartmouth on his expedition, but the latter’s instructions were secret, and Pepys therefore did not know what had been decided upon. He saw quite enough, however, to form a strong opinion of the uselessness of the place to England. Lord Dartmouth carried out his instructions thoroughly, and on March 29th, 1684, he and his party (including Pepys) arrived in the English Channel.41
The King himself now resumed the office of Lord High Admiral, and appointed Pepys Secretary of the Admiralty, with a salary of £500 per annum. In the Pepysian Library is the original patent, dated June 10th, 1684: “His Majesty’s Letters Patent for ye erecting the office of Secretary of ye Admiralty of England, and creating Samuel Pepys, Esq., first Secretary therein.” In this office the Diarist remained until the period of the Revolution, when his official career was concluded.
A very special honour was conferred upon Pepys in this year, when he was elected President of the Royal Society in succession to Sir Cyril Wyche, and he held the office for two years. Pepys had been admitted a fellow of the society on February 15th, 1664–65, and from Birch’s History we find that in the following month he made a statement to the society:—
“Mr. Pepys gave an account of what information he had received from the Master of the Jersey ship which had been in company with Major Holmes in the Guinea voyage concerning the pendulum watches (March 15th, 1664–5).”42
The records of the society show that he frequently made himself useful by obtaining such information as might be required in his department. After he retired from the presidency, he continued to entertain some of the most distinguished members of the society on Saturday evenings at his house in York Buildings. Evelyn expressed the strongest regret when it was necessary to discontinue these meetings on account of the infirmities of the host.
In 1685 Charles II died, and was succeeded by James, Duke of York. From his intimate association with James it might have been supposed that a long period of official life was still before Pepys, but the new king’s bigotry and incapacity soon made this a practical impossibility. At the coronation of James II Pepys marched in the procession immediately behind the king’s canopy, as one of the sixteen barons of the Cinque Ports.
In the year 1685 a new charter was granted to the Trinity Company, and Pepys was named in it the first master, this being the second time that he had held the office of master.
Evelyn specially refers to the event in his Diary, and mentions the distinguished persons present at the dinner on July 20th.
It is evident that at this time Pepys was looked upon as a specially influential man, and when a parliament was summoned to meet on May 19th, 1685, he was elected both for Harwich and for Sandwich. He chose to serve for Harwich, and Sir Philip Parker was elected to fill his place at Sandwich.
This parliament was dissolved by proclamation July 2nd, 1687, and on August 24th the king declared in council that another parliament should be summoned for November 27th, 1688, but great changes took place before that date, and when the Convention Parliament was called together in January and February, 1689–90, Pepys found no place in it. The right-hand man of the exiled monarch was not likely to find favour in the eyes of those who were now in possession. When the election for Harwich came on, the electors refused to return him, and the streets echoed to the cry of “No Tower men, no men out of the Tower!” They did not wish to be represented in parliament by a disgraced official.
We have little or no information to guide us as to Pepys’s proceedings at the period of the Revolution. We know that James II just before his flight was sitting to Kneller for a portrait intended for the Secretary to the Admiralty, and that Pepys acted in that office for the last time on 20th February, 1688–89, but between those dates we know nothing of the anxieties and troubles that he must have suffered. On the 9th March an order was issued from the Commissioners of the Admiralty for him to deliver up his books, etc., to Phineas Bowles, who superseded him as secretary.
Pepys had many firm friends upon whom he could rely, but he had also enemies who lost no opportunity of worrying him. On June 10th, 1690, Evelyn has this entry in his Diary, which throws some light upon the events of the time:—
“Mr. Pepys read to me his Remonstrance, skewing with what malice and injustice he was suspected with Sir Anth. Deane about the timber of which the thirty ships were built by a late Act of Parliament, with the exceeding danger which the fleet would shortly be in, by reason of the tyranny and incompetency of those who now managed the Admiralty and affairs of the Navy, of which he gave an accurate state, and show’d his greate ability.”
On the 25th of this same month Pepys was committed to the Gatehouse at Westminster on a charge of having sent information to the French Court of the state of the English navy. There was no evidence of any kind against him, and at the end of July he was allowed to return to his own house on account of ill-health. Nothing further was done in respect to the charge, but he was not free till some time after, and he was long kept in anxiety, for even in 1692 he still apprehended some fresh persecution.
Sir Peter Palavicini, Mr. James Houblon, Mr. Blackburne, and Mr. Martin bailed him, and he sent them the following circular letter:—
“October 15, 1690.
“Being this day become once again a free man in every respect, I mean but that of my obligation to you and the rest of my friends, to whom I stand indebted for my being so, I think it but a reasonable part of my duty to pay you and them my thanks for it in a body; but know not how otherwise to compass it than by begging you, which I hereby do, to take your share with them and me here, tomorrow, of a piece of mutton, which is all I dare promise you, besides that of being ever,
He employed the enforced idleness caused by being thrust out of his employment in the collection of the materials for the valuable work which he published in 1690, under the title of Memoirs of the Navy. Little more was left for him to do in life, but as the government became more firmly established, and the absolute absurdity of the idea of his disloyalty was proved, Pepys held up his head again as a man to be respected and consulted, and for the remainder of his life he was looked upon as the Nestor of the Navy.
There is little more to be told of Pepys’s life. He continued to keep up an extended correspondence with his many friends, and as Treasurer of Christ’s Hospital he took very great interest in the welfare of that institution. He succeeded in preserving from impending ruin the mathematical foundation which had been originally designed by him, and through his anxious solicitations endowed and cherished by Charles II and James II. One of the last public acts of his life was the presentation of the portrait of the eminent Dr. John Wallis, Savilian Professor of Geometry, to the University of Oxford.
In 1701 he sent Sir Godfrey Kneller to Oxford to paint the portrait, and the University rewarded him with a Latin diploma containing in gorgeous language the expression of thanks for his munificence.43
On the 26th May, 1703, Samuel Pepys, after long continued suffering, breathed his last in the presence of the learned Dr. George Hickes, the nonjuring Dean of Worcester, and the following letter from John Jackson to his uncle’s lifelong friend Evelyn contains particulars as to the cause of death:
Mr. Jackson to Mr. Evelyn.
“Clapham, May 28th, 1703.
“Friday night.
“Honoured Sir,
“ ’Tis no small addition to my grief, to be obliged to interrupt the quiet of your happy recess with the afflicting tidings of my Uncle Pepys’s death: knowing how sensibly you will partake with me herein. But I should not be faithful to his desires, if I did not beg your doing the honour to his memory of accepting mourning from him, as a small instance of his most affectionate respect and honour for you. I have thought myself extremely unfortunate to be out of the way at that only time when you were pleased lately to touch here, and express so great a desire of taking your leave of my Uncle; which could not but have been admitted by him as a most welcome exception to his general orders against being interrupted; and I could most heartily wish that the circumstances of your health and distance did not forbid me to ask the favour of your assisting in the holding up of the pawll at his interment, which is intended to be on Thursday next; for if the manes are affected with what passes below, I am sure this would have been very grateful to his.
“I must not omit acquainting you, sir, that upon opening his body, (which the uncommonness of his case required of us, for our own satisfaction as well as public good) there was found in his left kidney a nest of no less than seven stones, of the most irregular, figures your imagination can frame, and weighing together four ounces and a half, but all fast linked together, and adhering to his back; whereby they solve his having felt no greater pains upon motion, nor other of the ordinary symptoms of the stone. Some other lesser defects there also were in his body, proceeding from the same cause. But his stamina, in general, were marvellously strong, and not only supported him, under the most exquisite pains, weeks beyond all expectations; but, in the conclusion, contended for nearly forty hours (unassisted by any nourishment) with the very agonies of death, some few minutes excepted, before his expiring, which were very calm.
“There remains only for me, under this affliction, to beg the consolation and honour of succeeding to your patronage, for my Uncle’s sake; and leave to number myself, with the same sincerity he ever did, among your greatest honourers, which I shall esteem as one of the most valuable parts of my inheritances from him; being also, with the faithfullest wishes of health and a happy long life to you,
Evelyn alludes in his Diary to Pepys’s death and the present to him of a suit of mourning. He speaks in very high terms of his friend:—
“1703, May 26th. This day died Mr. Sam Pepys, a very worthy, industrious, and curious person, none in England exceeding him in knowledge of the navy, in which he had passed thro’ all the most considerable offices, Clerk of the Acts and Secretary of the Admiralty, all which he performed with great integrity. When K. James II went out of England, he laid down his office, and would serve no more, but withdrawing himselfe from all public affaires, he liv’d at Clapham with his partner Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble and sweete place, where he enjoy’d the fruits of his labours in greate prosperity. He was universally belov’d, hospitable, generous, learned in many things, skill’d in music, a very greate cherisher of learned men of whom he had the conversation. … Mr. Pepys had been for near 40 yeeres so much my particular friend that Mr. Jackson sent me complete mourning, desiring me to be one to hold up the pall at his magnificent obsequies, but my indisposition hinder’d me from doing him this last office.”
The body was brought from Clapham and buried in St. Olave’s Church, Hart Street, on the 5th June, at nine o’clock at night, in a vault just beneath the monument to the memory of Mrs. Pepys. Dr. Hickes performed the last sad offices for his friend, as described in the following letter:
“June 5, 1703.
“Last night, at 9 o’clock, I did the last office for your and my good friend, Mr Pepys, at St Olave’s Church, where he was laid in a vault of his own making, by his wife and brother.
“The greatness of his behaviour, in his long and sharp trial before his death, was in every respect answerable to his great life; and I believe no man ever went out of this world with greater contempt of it, or a more lively faith in everything that was revealed of the world to come. I administered the Holy Sacrament twice in his illness to him, and had administered it a third time, but for a sudden fit of illness that happened at the appointed time of administering of it. Twice I gave him the absolution of the Church, which he desired, and received with all reverence and comfort; and I never attended any sick or dying person that died with so much Christian greatness of mind, or a more lively sense of immortality, or so much fortitude and patience, in so long and sharp a trial, or greater resignation to the will, which he most devoutly acknowledged to be the wisdom of God and I doubt not but he is now a very blessed spirit, according to his motto, mens cujusque is est quisque.
Pepys’s faithful friend, Hewer, was his executor, and his nephew, John Jackson, his heir. Mourning was presented to forty persons, and a large number of rings to relations, godchildren, servants, and friends, also to representatives of the Royal Society, of the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, of the Admiralty, and of the Navy Office. The bulk of the property was bequeathed to Jackson, but the money which was left was much less than might have been expected, for at the time of Pepys’s death there was a balance of £28,007 2s. 1¼d. due to him from the Crown, and none of this was ever paid. The books and other collections were left to Magdalene College, Cambridge, but Jackson was to have possession of them during his lifetime. These were the most important portion of Pepys’s effects, for with them was the manuscript of the immortal Diary. The following are the directions for the disposition of the library, taken from Harl. MS., No. 7301:
“For the further settlement and preservation of my said library, after the death of my nephew. John Jackson, I do hereby declare, That could I be sure of a constant succession of heirs from my said nephew, qualified like himself for the use of such a library, I should not entertain a thought of its ever being alienated from them. But this uncertainty considered, with the infinite pains, and time, and cost employed in my collecting, methodising and reducing the same to the state it now is, I cannot but be greatly solicitous that all possible provision should be made for its unalterable preservation and perpetual security against the ordinary fate of such collections falling into the hands of an incompetent heir, and thereby being sold, dissipated, or embezzled. And since it has pleased God to visit me in a manner that leaves little appearance of being myself restored to a condition of concerting the necessary measures for attaining these ends, I must and do with great confidence rely upon the sincerity and direction of my executor and said nephew for putting in execution the powers given them, by my forementioned will relating hereto, requiring that the same be brought to a determination in twelve months after my decease, and that special regard be had therein to the following particulars which I declare to be my present thoughts and prevailing inclinations in this matter, viz.:
“1. That after the death of my said nephew, my said library be placed and forever settled in one of our universities, and rather in that of Cambridge than Oxford.
“2. And rather in a private college there, than in the public library.
“3. And in the colleges of Trinity or Magdalen preferably to all others.
“4. And of these too, cæteris paribus, rather in the latter, for the sake of my own and my nephew’s education therein.
“5. That in which soever of the two it is, a fair roome be provided therein.
“6. And if in Trinity, that the said roome be contiguous to, and have communication with, the new library there.
“7. And if in Magdalen, that it be in the new building there, and any part thereof at my nephew’s election.
“8. That my said library be continued in its present form and no other books mixed therein, save what my nephew may add to theirs of his own collecting, in distinct presses.
“9. That the said room and books so placed and adjusted be called by the name of ‘Bibliotheca Pepysiana.’
“10. That this ‘Bibliotheca Pepysiana’ be under the sole power and custody of the master of the college for the time being, who shall neither himself convey, nor suffer to be conveyed by others, any of the said books from thence to any other place, except to his own lodge in the said college, nor there have more than ten of them at a time; and that of those also a strict entry be made and account kept, at the time of their having been taken out and returned, in a book to be provided, and remain in the said library for that purpose only.
“11. That before my said library be put into the possession of either of the said colleges, that college for which it shall be designed, first enter into covenants for performance of the foregoing articles.
“12. And that for a yet further security herein, the said two colleges of Trinity and Magdalen have a reciprocal check upon one another; and that college which shall be in present possession of the said library, be subject to an annual visitation from the other, and to the forfeiture thereof to the life, possession, and use of the other, upon conviction of any breach of their said covenants.
The library and the original bookcases were not transferred to Magdalene College until 1724, and there they have been preserved in safety ever since.
A large number of Pepys’s manuscripts appear to have remained unnoticed in York Buildings for some years. They never came into Jackson’s hands, and were thus lost to Magdalene College. Dr. Rawlinson afterwards obtained them, and they were included in the bequest of his books to the Bodleian Library.
Pepys was partial to having his portrait taken, and he sat to Savill, Hales, Lely, and Kneller. Hales’s portrait, painted in 1666, is now in the National Portrait Gallery, and an etching from the original forms the frontispiece to this volume. The portrait by Lely is in the Pepysian Library. Of the three portraits by Kneller, one is in the hall of Magdalene College, another at the Royal Society, and the third was lent to the First Special Exhibition of National Portraits, 1866, by the late Mr. Andrew Pepys Cockerell. Several of the portraits have been engraved, but the most interesting of these are those used by Pepys himself as bookplates. These were both engraved by Robert White, and taken from paintings by Kneller.
The church of St. Olave, Hart Street, is intimately associated with Pepys both in his life and in his death, and for many years the question had been constantly asked by visitors, “Where is Pepys’s monument?” On Wednesday, July 5th, 1882, a meeting was held in the vestry of the church, when an influential committee was appointed, upon which all the great institutions with which Pepys was connected were represented by their masters, presidents, or other officers, with the object of taking steps to obtain an adequate memorial of the Diarist. Mr. (now Sir) Alfred Blomfield, architect of the church, presented an appropriate design for a monument, and sufficient subscriptions having been obtained for the purpose, he superintended its erection. On Tuesday afternoon, March 18th, 1884, the monument, which was affixed to the wall of the church where the gallery containing Pepys’s pew formerly stood, was unveiled in the presence of a large concourse of visitors. The Earl of Northbrook, First Lord of the Admiralty, consented to unveil the monument, but he was at the last moment prevented by public business from attending. The late Mr. Russell Lowell, then the American Minister, took Lord Northbrook’s place, and made a very charming and appreciative speech on the occasion, from which the following passages are extracted:—
“It was proper,” his Excellency said, “that he should read a note he had received from Lord Northbrook. This was dated that day from the Admiralty, and was as follows:
“ ‘My dear Mr. Lowell,
“ ‘I am very much annoyed that I am prevented from assisting at the ceremony today. It would be very good if you would say that nothing but very urgent business would have kept me away. I was anxious to give my testimony to the merits of Pepys as an Admiralty official, leaving his literary merits to you. He was concerned with the administration of the Navy from the Restoration to the Revolution, and from 1673 as secretary. I believe his merits to be fairly stated in a contemporary account, which I send.
“The contemporary account, which Lord Northbrook was good enough to send him, said:
“ ‘Pepys was, without exception, the greatest and most useful Minister that ever filled the same situations in England, the acts and registers of the Admiralty proving this beyond contradiction. The principal rules and establishments in present use in these offices are well known to have been of his introducing, and most of the officers serving therein since the Restoration, of his bringing-up. He was a most studious promoter and strenuous asserter of order and discipline. Sobriety, diligence, capacity, loyalty, and subjection to command were essentials required in all whom he advanced. Where any of these were found wanting, no interest or authority was capable of moving him in favour of the highest pretender. Discharging his duty to his Prince and country with a religious application and perfect integrity, he feared no one, courted no one, and neglected his own fortune.’
“That was a character drawn, it was true, by a friendly hand, but to those who were familiar with the life of Pepys, the praise hardly seemed exaggerated. As regarded his official life, it was unnecessary to dilate upon his peculiar merits, for they all knew how faithful he was in his duties, and they all knew, too, how many faithful officials there were working on in obscurity, who were not only never honoured with a monument but who never expected one. The few words, Mr. Lowell went on to remark, which he was expected to say upon that occasion, therefore, referred rather to what he believed was the true motive which had brought that assembly together, and that was by no means the character of Pepys either as Clerk of the Acts or as Secretary to the Admiralty. This was not the place in which one could go into a very close examination of the character of Pepys as a private man. He would begin by admitting that Pepys was a type, perhaps, of what was now called a ‘Philistine’. We had no word in England which was equivalent to the French adjective Bourgeois; but, at all events, Samuel Pepys was the most perfect type that ever existed of the class of people whom this word described. He had all its merits as well as many of its defects. With all those defects, however perhaps in consequence of them—Pepys had written one of the most delightful books that it was man’s privilege to read in the English language or in any other. Whether Pepys intended this Diary to be afterwards read by the general public or not—and this was a doubtful question when it was considered that he had left, possibly by inadvertence, a key to his cipher behind him—it was certain that he had left with us a most delightful picture, or rather he had left the power in our hands of drawing for ourselves some, of the most delightful pictures, of the time in which he lived. There was hardly any book which was analogous to it. … If one were asked what were the reasons for liking Pepys, it would be found that they were as numerous as the days upon which he made an entry in his Diary, and surely that was sufficient argument in his favour. There was no book, Mr. Lowell said, that he knew of, or that occurred to his memory, with which Pepys’s Diary could fairly be compared, except the journal of L’Estoile, who had the same anxious curiosity and the same commonness, not to say vulgarity of interest, and the book was certainly unique in one respect, and that was the absolute sincerity of the author with himself. Montaigne is conscious that we are looking over his shoulder, and Rousseau secretive in comparison with him. The very fact of that sincerity of the author with himself argued a certain greatness of character. Dr. Hickes, who attended Pepys at his deathbed, spoke of him as ‘this great man,’ and said he knew no one who died so greatly. And yet there was something almost of the ridiculous in the statement when the ‘greatness’ was compared with the garrulous frankness which Pepys showed towards himself. There was no parallel to the character of Pepys, he believed, in respect of naivete, unless it were found in that of Falstaff, and Pepys showed himself, too, like Falstaff, on terms of unbuttoned familiarity with himself. Falstaff had just the same naivete, but in Falstaff it was the naivete of conscious humour. In Pepys it was quite different, for Pepys’s naivete was the inoffensive vanity of a man who loved to see himself in the glass. Falstaff had a sense, too, of inadvertent humour, but it was questionable whether Pepys could have had any sense of humour at all, and yet permitted himself to be so delightful. There was probably, however, more involuntary humour in Pepys’s Diary than there was in any other book extant. When he told his readers of the landing of Charles II at Dover, for instance, it would be remembered how Pepys chronicled the fact that the Mayor of Dover presented the Prince with a Bible, for which he returned his thanks and said it was the ‘most precious Book to him in the world.’ Then, again, it would be remembered how, when he received a letter addressed ‘Samuel Pepys, Esq.,’ he confesses in the Diary that this pleased him mightily. When, too, he kicked his cook-maid, he admits that he was not sorry for it, but was sorry that the footboy of a worthy knight with whom he was acquainted saw him do it. And the last instance he would mention of poor Pepys’s naivete was when he said in the Diary that he could not help having a certain pleasant and satisfied feeling when Barlow died. Barlow, it must be remembered, received during his life the yearly sum from Pepys of £100. The value of Pepys’s book was simply priceless, and while there was nothing in it approaching that single page in St. Simon where he described that thunder of courtierly red heels passing from one wing of the Palace to another as the Prince was lying on his deathbed, and favour was to flow from another source, still Pepys’s Diary was unequalled in its peculiar quality of amusement. The lightest part of the Diary was of value, historically, for it enabled one to see London of 200 years ago, and, what was more, to see it with the eager eyes of Pepys. It was not Pepys the official who had brought that large gathering together that day in honour of his memory: it was Pepys the Diarist.”
In concluding this account of the chief particulars of Pepys’s life it may be well to add a few words upon the pronunciation of his name. Various attempts appear to have been made to represent this phonetically. Lord Braybrooke, in quoting the entry of death from St. Olave’s Registers, where the spelling is “Peyps,” wrote, “This is decisive as to the proper pronunciation of the name.” This spelling may show that the name was pronounced as a monosyllable, but it is scarcely conclusive as to anything else, and Lord Braybrooke does not say what he supposes the sound of the vowels to have been. At present there are three pronunciations in use—Peps, which is the most usual; Peeps, which is the received one at Magdalene College, and Peppis, which I learn from Mr. Walter C. Pepys is the one used by other branches of the family. Mr. Pepys has paid particular attention to this point, and in his valuable Genealogy of the Pepys Family (1887) he has collected seventeen varieties of spelling of the name, which are as follows, the dates of the documents in which the form appears being attached:
Pepis (1273);
Pepy (1439);
Pypys (1511);
Pipes (1511);
Peppis (1518);
Peppes (1519);
Pepes (1520);
Peppys (1552);
Peaps (1636);
Pippis (1639);
Peapys (1653);
Peps (1655);
Pypes (1656);
Peypes (1656);
Peeps (1679);
Peepes (1683);
Peyps (1703).
Mr. Walter Pepys adds:—
“The accepted spelling of the name ‘Pepys’ was adopted generally about the end of the seventeenth century, though it occurs many years before that time. There have been numerous ways of pronouncing the name, as ‘Peps,’ ‘Peeps,’ and ‘Peppis.’ The Diarist undoubtedly pronounced it ‘Peeps,’ and the lineal descendants of his sister Paulina, the family of ‘Pepys Cockerell’ pronounce it so to this day. The other branches of the family all pronounce it as ‘Peppis,’ and I am led to be satisfied that the latter pronunciation is correct by the two facts that in the earliest known writing it is spelt ‘Pepis,’ and that the French form of the name is ‘Pepy.’ ”
The most probable explanation is that the name in the seventeenth century was either pronounced Pĕps or Pāpes; for both the forms ea and ey would represent the latter pronunciation. The general change in the pronunciation of the spelling ea from ai to ee took place in a large number of words at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth-century, and three words at least (yea, break, and great) keep this old pronunciation still. The present Irish pronunciation of English is really the same as the English pronunciation of the seventeenth century, when the most extensive settlement of Englishmen in Ireland took place, and the Irish always pronounce ea like ai (as, He gave him a nate bating = neat beating). Again, the ey of Peyps would rhyme with they and obey. English literature is full of illustrations of the old pronunciation of ea, as in Hudibras:
“Doubtless the pleasure is as great In being cheated as to cheat,”
which was then a perfect rhyme. In the Rape of the Lock tea (tay) rhymes with obey, and in Cowper’s verses on Alexander Selkirk sea rhymes with survey.46 It is not likely that the pronunciation of the name was fixed, but there is every reason to suppose that the spellings of Peyps and Peaps were intended to represent the sound Pāpes rather than Peeps.
In spite of all the research which has brought to light so many incidents of interest in the life of Samuel Pepys, we cannot but feel how dry these facts are when placed by the side of the living details of the Diary. It is in its pages that the true man is displayed, and it has therefore not been thought necessary here to do more than set down in chronological order such facts as are known of the life outside the Diary. A fuller “appreciation” of the man must be left for some future occasion.
Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of cold.48 I lived in Axe Yard,49 having my wife, and servant Jane, and no more in family than us three. My wife …50 gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year … [the hope was belied.]
The condition of the State was thus; viz. the Rump, after being disturbed by my Lord Lambert,51 was lately returned to sit again. The officers of the Army all forced to yield. Lawson52 lies still in the river, and Monk53 is with his army in Scotland. Only my Lord Lambert is not yet come into the Parliament, nor is it expected that he will without being forced to it. The new Common Council of the City do speak very high; and had sent to Monk their sword-bearer, to acquaint him with their desires for a free and full Parliament, which is at present the desires, and the hopes, and expectation of all. Twenty-two of the old secluded members54 having been at the House-door the last week to demand entrance, but it was denied them; and it is believed that [neither] they nor the people will be satisfied till the House be filled. My own private condition very handsome, and esteemed rich, but indeed very poor; besides my goods of my house, and my office, which at present is somewhat uncertain. Mr. Downing master of my office.55
. This morning (we living lately in the garret) I rose, put on my suit with great skirts, having not lately worn any other clothes but them. Went to Mr. Gunning’s56 chapel at Exeter House,57 where he made a very good sermon upon these words:—“That in the fullness of time God sent his Son, made of a woman,” etc.; showing, that, by “made under the law,” is meant his circumcision, which is solemnized this day. Dined at home in the garret, where my wife dressed the remains of a turkey, and in the doing of it she burned her hand. I stayed at home all the afternoon, looking over my accounts; then went with my wife to my father’s, and in going observed the great posts which the City have set up at the Conduit in Fleet-street.58 Supped at my father’s, where in came Mrs. The. Turner59 and Madam Morrice, and supped with us. After that my wife and I went home with them, and so to our own home.
. In the morning before I went forth old East brought me a dozen of bottles of sack, and I gave him a shilling for his pains. Then I went to Mr. Sheply60 who was drawing of sack in the wine cellar to send to other places as a gift from my Lord, and told me that my Lord had given him order to give me the dozen of bottles. Thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthropp about the £60 due to my Lord,61 but missed of him, he being abroad. Then I went to Mr. Crew’s62 and borrowed £10 of Mr. Andrewes for my own use, and so went to my office, where there was nothing to do. Then I walked a great while in Westminster Hall, where I heard that Lambert was coming up to London; that my Lord Fairfax63 was in the head of the Irish brigade, but it was not certain what he would declare for. The House was today upon finishing the act for the Council of State, which they did; and for the indemnity to the soldiers; and were to sit again thereupon in the afternoon. Great talk that many places have declared for a free Parliament; and it is believed that they will be forced to fill up the House with the old members. From the Hall I called at home, and so went to Mr. Crew’s (my wife she was to go to her father’s), thinking to have dined, but I came too late, so Mr. Moore64 and I and another gentleman went out and drank a cup of ale together in the new market,65 and there I eat some bread and cheese for my dinner. After that Mr. Moore and I went as far as Fleet-street together and parted, he going into the City, I to find Mr. Calthrop, but failed again of finding him, so returned to Mr. Crew’s again, and from thence went along with Mrs. Jemimah66 home, and there she taught me how to play at cribbage.67 Then I went home, and finding my wife gone to see Mrs. Hunt, I went to Will’s,68 and there sat with Mr. Ashwell talking and singing till nine o’clock, and so home, there, having not eaten anything but bread and cheese, my wife cut me a slice of brawn which I received from my Lady,69 which proves as good as ever I had any. So to bed, and my wife had a very bad night of it through wind and cold.
. I went out in the morning, it being a great frost, and walked to Mrs. Turner’s70 to stop her from coming to see me today, because of Mrs. Jem’s coming, thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthrop, and walked in his chamber an hour, but could not see him, so went to Westminster, where I found soldiers in my office to receive money, and paid it them. At noon went home, where Mrs. Jem, her maid, Mr. Sheply, Hawly, and Moore dined with me on a piece of beef and cabbage, and a collar of brawn. We then fell to cards till dark, and then I went home with Mrs. Jem, and meeting Mr. Hawly got him to bear me company to Chancery Lane, where I spoke with Mr. Calthrop, he told me that Sir James Calthrop was lately dead, but that he would write to his Lady, that the money may be speedily paid. Thence back to Whitehall, where I understood that the Parliament had passed the act for indemnity to the soldiers and officers that would come in, in so many days, and that my Lord Lambert should have benefit of the said act. They had also voted that all vacancies in the House, by the death of any of the old members, shall be filled up; but those that are living shall not be called in. Thence I went home, and there found Mr. Hunt and his wife, and Mr. Hawly, who sat with me till ten at night at cards, and so broke up and to bed.
. Early came Mr. Vanly71 to me for his half-year’s rent, which I had not in the house, but took his man to the office and there paid him. Then I went down into the Hall and to Will’s, where Hawly brought a piece of his Cheshire cheese, and we were merry with it. Then into the Hall again, where I met with the Clerk and Quarter Master of my Lord’s troop, and took them to the Swan72 and gave them their morning’s draught,73 they being just come to town. Mr. Jenkins showed me two bills of exchange for money to receive upon my Lord’s and my pay. It snowed hard all this morning, and was very cold, and my nose was much swelled with cold. Strange the difference of men’s talk! Some say that Lambert must of necessity yield up; others, that he is very strong, and that the Fifth-monarchy-men74 [will] stick to him, if he declares for a free Parliament. Chillington was sent yesterday to him with the vote of pardon and indemnity from the Parliament. From the Hall I came home, where I found letters from Hinchinbroke75 and news of Mr. Sheply’s going thither the next week. I dined at home, and from thence went to Will’s to Shaw, who promised me to go along with me to Atkinson’s about some money, but I found him at cards with Spicer76 and D. Vines,77 and could not get him along with me. I was vexed at this, and went and walked in the Hall, where I heard that the Parliament spent this day in fasting and prayer; and in the afternoon came letters from the North, that brought certain news that my Lord Lambert his forces were all forsaking him, and that he was left with only fifty horse, and that he did now declare for the Parliament himself; and that my Lord Fairfax did also rest satisfied, and had laid down his arms, and that what he had done was only to secure the country against my Lord Lambert his raising of money, and free quarter. I went to Will’s again, where I found them still at cards, and Spicer had won 14s. of Shaw and Vines. Then I spent a little time with G. Vines78 and Maylard at Vines’s at our viols.79 So home, and from thence to Mr. Hunt’s, and sat with them and Mr. Hawly at cards till ten at night, and was much made of by them. Home and so to bed, but much troubled with my nose, which was much swelled.
. I went to my office, where the money was again expected from the Excise office, but none brought, but was promised to be sent this afternoon. I dined with Mr. Sheply, at my Lord’s lodgings, upon his turkey-pie. And so to my office again; where the Excise money was brought, and some of it told to soldiers till it was dark. Then I went home, and after writing a letter to my Lord and told him the news that the Parliament hath this night voted that the members that were discharged from sitting in the years 1648 and 49, were duly discharged; and that there should be writs issued presently for the calling of others in their places, and that Monk and Fairfax were commanded up to town, and that the Prince’s lodgings80 were to be provided for Monk at Whitehall. Then my wife and I, it being a great frost, went to Mrs. Jem’s, in expectation to eat a sack-posset, but Mr. Edward81 not coming it was put off; and so I left my wife playing at cards with her, and went myself with my lantern to Mr. Fage, to consult concerning my nose, who told me it was nothing but cold, and after that we did discourse concerning public business; and he told me it is true the City had not time enough to do much, but they are resolved to shake off the soldiers; and that unless there be a free Parliament chosen, he did believe there are half the Common Council will not levy any money by order of this Parliament. From thence I went to my father’s, where I found Mrs. Ramsey and her grandchild, a pretty girl, and stayed a while and talked with them and my mother, and then took my leave, only heard of an invitation to go to dinner tomorrow to my cousin Thomas Pepys.82 I went back to Mrs. Jem, and took my wife and Mrs. Sheply, and went home.
. This morning Mr. Sheply and I did eat our breakfast at Mrs. Harper’s, (my brother John83 being with me) upon a cold turkey-pie and a goose. From thence I went to my office, where we paid money to the soldiers till one o’clock, at which time we made an end, and I went home and took my wife and went to my cousin, Thomas Pepys, and found them just sat down to dinner, which was very good; only the venison pasty was palpable beef, which was not handsome. After dinner I took my leave, leaving my wife with my cousin Stradwick84 and went to Westminster to Mr. Vines, where George85 and I fiddled a good while, Dick and his wife (who was lately brought to bed) and her sister being there, but Mr. Hudson not coming according to his promise, I went away, and calling at my house on the wench, I took her and the lantern with me to my cousin Stradwick, where, after a good supper, there being there my father, mother, brothers, and sister, my cousin Scott86 and his wife, Mr. Drawwater and his wife, and her brother, Mr. Stradwick, we had a brave cake brought us, and in the choosing, Pall87 was Queen and Mr. Stradwick was King. After that my wife and I bid adieu and came home, it being still a great frost.
. At my office as I was receiving money of the probate of wills, in came Mrs. Turner, Theoph., Madame Morrice, and Joyce,88 and after I had done I took them home to my house and Mr. Hawly came after, and I got a dish of steaks and a rabbit for them, while they were playing a game or two at cards. In the middle of our dinner a messenger from Mr. Downing came to fetch me to him, so leaving Mr. Hawly there, I went and was forced to stay till night in expectation of the French Embassador,89 who at last came, and I had a great deal of good discourse with one of his gentlemen concerning the reason of the difference between the zeal of the French and the Spaniard. After he was gone I went home, and found my friends still at cards, and after that I went along with them to Dr. Whores (sending my wife to Mrs. Jem’s to a sack-posset), where I heard some symphony and songs of his own making, performed by Mr. May,90 Harding,91 and Mallard. Afterwards I put my friends into a coach, and went to Mrs. Jem’s, where I wrote a letter to my Lord by the post, and had my part of the posset which was saved for me, and so we went home, and put in at my Lord’s lodgings, where we stayed late, eating of part of his turkey-pie, and reading of Quarles’ Emblems.92 So home and to bed.
. In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning’s, where a good sermon, wherein he showed the life of Christ, and told us good authority for us to believe that Christ did follow his father’s trade, and was a carpenter till thirty years of age. From thence to my father’s to dinner, where I found my wife, who was forced to dine there, we not having one coal of fire in the house, and it being very hard frosty weather. In the afternoon my father, he going to a man’s to demand some money due to my Aunt Bell,93 my wife and I went to Mr. Mossum’s,94 where a strange doctor made a very good sermon. From thence sending my wife to my father’s, I went to Mrs. Turner’s, and stayed a little while, and then to my father’s, where I found Mr. Sheply, and after supper went home together. Here I heard of the death of Mr. Palmer, and that he was to be buried at Westminster tomorrow.
. For these two or three days I have been much troubled with thoughts how to get money to pay them that I have borrowed money of, by reason of my money being in my uncle’s hands. I rose early this morning, and looked over and corrected my brother John’s speech, which he is to make the next apposition95 and after that I went towards my office, and in my way met with W. Simons,96 Muddiman, and Jack Price, and went with them to Harper’s and in many sorts of talk I stayed till two of the clock in the afternoon. I found Muddiman a good scholar, an arch rogue; and owns that though he writes new books for the Parliament, yet he did declare that he did it only to get money; and did talk very basely of many of them. Among other things, W. Simons told me how his uncle Scobell97 was on Saturday last called to the bar, for entering in the journal of the House, for the year 1653, these words: “This day his Excellence the Lord General Cromwell dissolved this House;” which words the Parliament voted a forgery, and demanded of him how they came to be entered. He answered that they were his own handwriting, and that he did it by virtue of his office, and the practice of his predecessor;98 and that the intent of the practice was to let posterity know how such and such a Parliament was dissolved, whether by the command of the King, or by their own neglect, as the last House of Lords was; and that to this end, he had said and writ that it was dissolved by his Excellence the Lord G[eneral]; and that for the word dissolved, he never at the time did hear of any other term; and desired pardon if he would not dare to make a word himself when it was six years after, before they came themselves to call it an interruption; but they were so little satisfied with this answer, that they did choose a committee to report to the House, whether this crime of Mr. Scobell’s did come within the act of indemnity or no. Thence I went with Muddiman to the Coffee-House,99 and gave 18d. to be entered of the Club. Thence into the Hall, where I heard for certain that Monk was coming to London, and that Bradshaw’s100 lodgings were preparing for him. Thence to Mrs. Jem’s, and found her in bed, and she was afraid that it would prove the smallpox. Thence back to Westminster Hall, where I heard how Sir H. Vane101 was this day voted out of the House, and to sit no more there; and that he would retire himself to his house at Raby,102 as also all the rest of the nine officers that had their commissions formerly taken away from them, were commanded to their farthest houses from London during the pleasure of the Parliament. Here I met with the Quarter Master of my Lord’s troop, and his clerk Mr. Jenings,103 and took them home, and gave them a bottle of wine, and the remainder of my collar of brawn; and so good night. After that came in Mr. Hawly, who told me that I was missed this day at my office, and that tomorrow I must pay all the money that I have, at which I was put to a great loss how I should get money to make up my cash, and so went to bed in great trouble.
. Went out early, and in my way met with Greatorex104 and at an alehouse he showed me the first sphere of wire that ever he made, and indeed it was very pleasant; thence to Mr. Crew’s, and borrowed £10, and so to my office, and was able to pay my money. Thence into the Hall, and meeting the Quarter Master, Jenings, and Captain Rider, we four went to a cook’s to dinner. Thence Jenings and I into London (it being through heat of the sun a great thaw and dirty) to show our bills of return, and coming back drank a pint of wine at the Star in Cheapside.105 So to Westminster, overtaking Captain Okeshott106 in his silk cloak, whose sword got hold of many people in walking. Thence to the Coffeehouse, where were a great confluence of gentlemen; viz. Mr. Harrington,107 Poultny,108 chairman, Gold,109 Dr. Petty,110 etc., where admirable discourse till at night. Thence with Doling111 to Mother Lams, who told me how this day Scott112 was made Intelligencer, and that the rest of the members that were objected against last night, their business was to be heard this day sennight. Thence I went home and wrote a letter, and went to Harper’s, and stayed there till Tom113 carried it to the postboy at Whitehall. So home to bed.
. Being at Will’s with Captain Barker, who hath paid me £300 this morning at my office, in comes my father, and with him I walked, and leave him at W. Joyce’s, and went myself to Mr. Crew’s, but came too late to dine, and therefore after a game at shuttle-cocks114 with Mr. Walgrave115 and Mr. Edward, I returned to my father, and taking him from W. Joyce’s, who was not abroad himself, we inquired of a porter, and by his direction went to an alehouse, where after a cup or two we parted. I went towards London, and in my way went in to see Crowly, who was now grown a very great loon and very tame. Thence to Mr. Steven’s with a pair of silver snuffers, and bought a pair of shears to cut silver, and so homeward again. From home I went to see Mrs. Jem, who was in bed, and now granted to have the smallpox. Back again, and went to the Coffeehouse, but tarried not, and so home.
. I drink my morning at Harper’s with Mr. Sheply and a seaman, and so to my office, where Captain Holland116 came to see me, and appointed a meeting in the afternoon. Then wrote letters to Hinchinbroke and sealed them at Will’s, and after that went home, and thence to the Half Moon, where I found the Captain and Mr. Billingsly and Newman, a barber, where we were very merry, and had the young man that plays so well on the Welsh harp. Billingsly paid for all. Thence home, and finding my letters this day not gone by the carrier I new sealed them, but my brother Tom coming we fell into discourse about my intention to feast the Joyces. I sent for a bit of meat for him from the cook’s, and forgot to send my letters this night. So I went to bed, and in discourse broke to my wife what my thoughts were concerning my design of getting money by, etc.
. Coming in the morning to my office, I met with Mr. Fage and took him to the Swan.117 He told me how high Haselrigge,118 and Morley,119 the last night began at my Lord Mayor’s120 to exclaim against the City of London, saying that they had forfeited their charter. And how the Chamberlain of the City did take them down, letting them know how much they were formerly beholding to the City, etc. He also told me that Monk’s letter that came to them by the sword-bearer was a cunning piece, and that which they did not much trust to; but they were resolved to make no more applications to the Parliament, nor to pay any money, unless the secluded members be brought in, or a free Parliament chosen. Thence to my office, where nothing to do. So to Will’s with Mr. Pinkney,121 who invited me to their feast at his Hall the next Monday. Thence I went home and took my wife and dined at Mr. Wades, and after that we went and visited Catan.122 From thence home again, and my wife was very unwilling to let me go forth, but with some discontent would go out if I did, and I going forth towards Whitehall, I saw she followed me, and so I stayed and took her round through Whitehall, and so carried her home angry. Thence I went to Mrs. Jem, and found her up and merry, and that it did not prove the smallpox, but only the swine-pox; so I played a game or two at cards with her. And so to Mr. Vines, where he and I and Mr. Hudson played half-a-dozen things, there being there Dick’s wife and her sister. After that I went home and found my wife gone abroad to Mr. Hunt’s, and came in a little after me. So to bed.
. Nothing to do at our office. Thence into the Hall, and just as I was going to dinner from Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore (with whom I had been in the lobby to hear news, and had spoke with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper123 about my Lord’s lodgings) to his house, I met with Captain Holland, who told me that he hath brought his wife to my house, so I posted home and got a dish of meat for them. They stayed with me all the afternoon, and went hence in the evening. Then I went with my wife, and left her at market, and went myself to the Coffeehouse, and heard exceeding good argument against Mr. Harrington’s assertion, that overbalance of propriety [i.e., property] was the foundation of government. Home, and wrote to Hinchinbroke, and sent that and my other letter that missed of going on Thursday last. So to bed.
. Having been exceedingly disturbed in the night with the barking of a dog of one of our neighbours that I could not sleep for an hour or two, I slept late, and then in the morning took physic, and so stayed within all day. At noon my brother John came to me, and I corrected as well as I could his Greek speech to say the Apposition, though I believe he himself was as well able to do it as myself. After that we went to read in the great Officiale about the blessing of bells in the Church of Rome.124 After that my wife and I in pleasant discourse till night, then I went to supper, and after that to make an end of this week’s notes in this book, and so to bed. It being a cold day and a great snow my physic did not work so well as it should have done.
. In the morning I went up to Mr. Crew’s, and at his bedside he gave me direction to go tomorrow with Mr. Edward to Twickenham, and likewise did talk to me concerning things of state; and expressed his mind how just it was that the secluded members should come to sit again. I went from thence, and in my way went into an alehouse and drank my morning draught with Matthew Andrews and two or three more of his friends, coachmen. And of one of them I did hire a coach to carry us tomorrow to Twickenham. From thence to my office, where nothing to do; but Mr. Downing he came and found me all alone; and did mention to me his going back into Holland, and did ask me whether I would go or no, but gave me little encouragement, but bid me consider of it; and asked me whether I did not think that Mr. Hawly could perform the work of my office alone or no. I confess I was at a great loss, all the day after, to bethink myself how to carry this business. At noon, Harry Ethall came to me and went along with Mr. Maylard by coach as far as Salsbury Court, and there we set him down, and we went to the Clerks, where we came a little too late, but in a closet we had a very good dinner by Mr. Pinkny’s courtesy, and after dinner we had pretty good singing, and one, Hazard, sung alone after the old fashion, which was very much cried up, but I did not like it. Thence we went to the Green Dragon, on Lambeth Hill,125 both the Mr. Pinkney’s, Smith, Harrison, Morrice, that sang the bass, Sheply and I, and there we sang of all sorts of things, and I ventured with good success upon things at first sight, and after that I played on my flageolet,126 and stayed there till nine o’clock, very merry and drawn on with one song after another till it came to be so late. After that Sheply, Harrison and myself, we went towards Westminster on foot, and at the Golden Lion, near Charing Cross, we went in and drank a pint of wine, and so parted, and thence home, where I found my wife and maid a-washing. I stayed up till the bellman came by with his bell just under my window as I was writing of this very line, and cried, “Past one of the clock, and a cold, frosty, windy morning.” I then went to bed, and left my wife and the maid a-washing still.
. Early I went to Mr. Crew’s, and having given Mr. Edward money to give the servants, I took him into the coach that waited for us and carried him to my house, where the coach waited for me while I and the child went to Westminster Hall, and bought him some pictures. In the Hall I met Mr. Woodfine, and took him to Will’s and drank with him. Thence the child and I to the coach, where my wife was ready, and so we went towards Twickenham. In our way, at Kensington we understood how that my Lord Chesterfield had killed another gentleman about half an hour before, and was fled.127 We went forward and came about one of the clock to Mr. Fuller’s,128 but he was out of town, so we had a dinner there, and I gave the child 40s. to give to the two ushers. After that we parted and went homewards, it being market day at Brainford [Brentford]. I set my wife down and went with the coach to Mr. Crew’s, thinking to have spoke with Mr. Moore and Mrs. Jem, he having told me the reason of his melancholy was some unkindness from her after so great expressions of love, and how he had spoke to her friends and had their consent, and that he would desire me to take an occasion of speaking with her, but by no means not to heighten her discontent or distaste whatever it be, but to make it up if I can. But he being out of doors, I went away and went to see Mrs. Jem, who was now very well again, and after a game or two at cards, I left her. So I went to the Coffee Club, and heard very good discourse; it was in answer to Mr. Harrington’s answer, who said that the state of the Roman government was not a settled government, and so it was no wonder that the balance of propriety was in one hand, and the command in another, it being therefore always in a posture of war; but it was carried by ballot, that it was a steady government, though it is true by the voices it had been carried before that it was an unsteady government; so tomorrow it is to be proved by the opponents that the balance lay in one hand, and the government in another. Thence I went to Westminster, and met Shaw and Washington,129 who told me how this day Sydenham130 was voted out of the House for sitting any more this Parliament, and that Salloway131 was voted out likewise and sent to the Tower, during the pleasure of the House. Home and wrote by the Post, and carried to Whitehall, and coming back turned in at Harper’s, where Jack Price was, and I drank with him and he told me, among other things, how much the Protector132 is altered, though he would seem to bear out his trouble very well, yet he is scarce able to talk sense with a man; and how he will say that “Who should a man trust, if he may not trust to a brother and an uncle;”133 and “how much those men have to answer before God Almighty, for their playing the knave with him as they did.” He told me also, that there was £100,000 offered, and would have been taken for his restitution, had not the Parliament come in as they did again; and that he do believe that the Protector will live to give a testimony of his valour and revenge yet before he dies, and that the Protector will say so himself sometimes. Thence I went home, it being late and my wife in bed.
. To my office and from thence to Will’s, and there Mr. Sheply brought me letters from the carrier and so I went home. After that to Wilkinson’s,134 where we had a dinner for Mr. Talbot, Adams, Pinkny and his son, but his son did not come. Here we were very merry, and while I was here Mr. Fuller came thither and stayed a little while. After that we all went to my Lord’s, whither came afterwards Mr. Harrison, and by chance seeing Mr. Butler135 coming by I called him in and so we sat drinking a bottle of wine till night. At which time Mistress Ann136 came with the key of my Lord’s study for some things, and so we all broke up and after I had gone to my house and interpreted my Lord’s letter by his character137 I came to her again and went with her to her lodging and from thence to Mr. Crew’s, where I advised with him what to do about my Lord’s lodgings and what answer to give to Sir Ant. Cooper and so I came home and to bed. All the world is at a loss to think what Monk will do: the City saying that he will be for them, and the Parliament saying he will be for them.
. This morning I was sent for to Mr. Downing, and at his bed side he told me, that he had a kindness for me, and that he thought that he had done me one; and that was, that he had got me to be one of the Clerks of the Council; at which I was a little stumbled, and could not tell what to do, whether to thank him or no; but by and by I did; but not very heartily, for I feared that his doing of it was but only to ease himself of the salary138 which he gives me. After that Mr. Sheply staying below all this time for me we went thence and met Mr. Pierce,139 so at the Harp and Ball drank our morning draught and so to Whitehall where I met with Sir Ant. Cooper and did give him some answer from my Lord and he did give us leave to keep the lodgings still. And so we did determine thereupon that Mr. Sheply might now go into the country and would do so tomorrow. Back I went by Mr. Downing’s order and stayed there till twelve o’clock in expectation of one to come to read some writings, but he came not, so I stayed all alone reading the answer of the Dutch Ambassador to our State,140 in answer to the reasons of my Lord’s coming home, which he gave for his coming, and did labour herein to contradict my Lord’s arguments for his coming home. Thence to my office and so with Mr. Sheply and Moore, to dine upon a turkey with Mrs. Jem, and after that Mr. Moore and I went to the French Ordinary, where Mr. Downing this day feasted Sir Arth. Haselrigge, and a great many more of the Parliament, and did stay to put him in mind of me. Here he gave me a note to go and invite some other members to dinner tomorrow. So I went to Whitehall, and did stay at Marsh’s, with Simons, Luellin, and all the rest of the Clerks of the Council, who I hear are all turned out, only the two Leighs, and they do all tell me that my name was mentioned the last night, but that nothing was done in it. Hence I went and did leave some of my notes at the lodgings of the members and so home. To bed.
. In the morning I went to Mr. Downing’s bedside and gave him an account what I had done as to his guests, and I went thence to my Lord Widdrington141 who I met in the street, going to seal the patents for the judges today, and so could not come to dinner. I called upon Mr. Calthrop about the money due to my Lord. Here I met with Mr. Woodfine and drank with him at the Sun in Chancery Lane and so to Westminster Hall, where at the lobby I spoke with the rest of my guests and so to my office. At noon went by water with Mr. Maylard and Hales to the Swan in Fish Street142 at our Goal Feast, where we were very merry at our Jole of Ling, and from thence after a great and good dinner Mr. Falconberge143 would go drink a cup of ale at a place where I had like to have shot at a scholar that lay over the house of office. Thence calling on Mr. Stephens and Wootton (with whom I drank) about business of my Lord’s I went to the Coffee Club where there was nothing done but choosing of a Committee for orders. Thence to Westminster Hall where Mrs. Lane144 and the rest of the maids had their white scarfs, all having been at the burial of a young bookseller in the Hall.145 Thence to Mr. Sheply’s and took him to my house and drank with him in order to his going tomorrow. So parted and I sat up late making up my accounts before he go. This day three citizens of London went to meet Monk from the Common Council.146
. Up early in finishing my accounts and writing to my Lord and from thence to my Lord’s and took leave of Mr. Sheply and possession of all the keys and the house. Thence to my office for some money to pay Mr. Sheply and sent it him by the old man. I then went to Mr. Downing who chid me because I did not give him notice of some of his guests failed him but I told him that I sent our porter to tell him and he was not within, but he told me that he was within till past twelve o’clock. So the porter or he lied. Thence to my office where nothing to do. Then with Mr. Hawly, he and I went to Mr. Crew’s and dined there. Thence into London, to Mr. Vernon’s and I received my £25 due by bill for my troopers’ pay. Then back again to Steadman’s. At the Mitre,147 in Fleet street, in our way calling on Mr. Fage, who told me how the City have some hopes of Monk. Thence to the Mitre, where I drank a pint of wine, the house being in fitting for Banister to come hither from Paget’s. Thence to Mrs. Jem and gave her £5. So home and left my money and to Whitehall where Luellin and I drank and talked together an hour at Marsh’s and so up to the clerks’ room, where poor Mr. Cook, a black man, that is like to be put out of his clerk’s place, came and railed at me for endeavouring to put him out and get myself in, when I was already in a good condition. But I satisfied him and after I had wrote a letter there to my Lord, wherein I gave him an account how this day Lenthall148 took his chair again, and [the House] resolved a declaration to be brought in on Monday next to satisfy the world what they intend to do. So home and to bed.
. I went in the morning to Mr. Messum’s,149 where I met with W. Thurburn and sat with him in his pew. A very eloquent sermon about the duty of all to give good example in our lives and conversation, which I fear he himself was most guilty of not doing. After sermon, at the door by appointment my wife met me, and so to my father’s to dinner, where we had not been to my shame in a fortnight before. After dinner my father showed me a letter from Mr. Widdrington,150 of Christ’s College, in Cambridge, wherein he do express very great kindness for my brother, and my father intends that my brother shall go to him. To church in the afternoon to Mr. Herring,151 where a lazy poor sermon. And so home with Mrs. Turner and sitting with her a while we went to my father’s where we supped very merry, and so home. This day I began to put on buckles to my shoes, which I have bought yesterday of Mr. Wotton.
. In the morning called out to carry £20 to Mr. Downing, which I did and came back, and finding Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, I took him to the Axe152 and gave him his morning draught. Thence to my office and there did nothing but make up my balance. Came home and found my wife dressing of the girl’s head, by which she was made to look very pretty. I went out and paid Wilkinson what I did owe him, and brought a piece of beef home for dinner. Thence I went out and paid Waters, the vintner, and went to see Mrs. Jem, where I found my Lady Wright,153 but Scott was so drunk that he could not be seen. Here I stayed and made up Mrs. Ann’s bills, and played a game or two at cards, and thence to Westminster Hall, it being very dark. I paid Mrs. Michell,154 my bookseller, and back to Whitehall, and in the garden, going through to the Stone Gallery155 I fell into a ditch, it being very dark. At the Clerk’s chamber I met with Simons and Luellin, and went with them to Mr. Mount’s chamber at the Cock Pit, where we had some rare pot venison, and ale to abundance till almost twelve at night, and after a song round we went home. This day the Parliament sat late, and resolved of the declaration to be printed for the people’s satisfaction, promising them a great many good things.
. In the morning to my office, where, after I had drank my morning draught at Will’s with Ethell and Mr. Stevens, I went and told part of the excise money till twelve o’clock, and then called on my wife and took her to Mr. Pierce’s, she in the way being exceedingly troubled with a pair of new pattens, and I vexed to go so slow, it being late. There when we came we found Mrs. Carrick very fine, and one Mr. Lucy, who called one another husband and wife, and after dinner a great deal of mad stir. There was pulling off Mrs. bride’s and Mr. bridegroom’s ribbons,156 with a great deal of fooling among them that I and my wife did not like. Mr. Lucy and several other gentlemen coming in after dinner, swearing and singing as if they were mad, only he singing very handsomely. There came in afterwards Mr. Southerne,157 clerk to Mr. Blackburne, and with him Lambert,158 lieutenant of my Lord’s ship, and brought with them the declaration that came out today from the Parliament, wherein they declare for law and gospel, and for tithes; but I do not find people apt to believe them. After this taking leave I went to my father’s, and my wife staying there, he and I went to speak with Mr. Crumlum159 (in the meantime, while it was five o’clock, he being in the school, we went to my cousin Tom Pepys’ shop,160 the turner in Paul’s Churchyard, and drank with him a pot of ale); he gave my father directions what to do about getting my brother an exhibition, and spoke very well of my brother. Thence back with my father home, where he and I spoke privately in the little room to my sister Pall about stealing of things as my wife’s scissors and my maid’s book, at which my father was much troubled. Hence home with my wife and so to Whitehall, where I met with Mr. Hunt and Luellin, and drank with them at Marsh’s, and afterwards went up and wrote to my Lord by the post. This day the Parliament gave order that the late Committee of Safety should come before them this day sennight, and all their papers, and their model of Government that they had made, to be brought in with them. So home and talked with my wife about our dinner on Thursday.
. Called up early to Mr. Downing; he gave me a Character, such a one as my Lord’s, to make perfect, and likewise gave me his order for £500 to carry to Mr. Frost, which I did and so to my office, where I did do something about the character till twelve o’clock. Then home find found my wife and the maid at my Lord’s getting things ready against tomorrow. I went by water to my Uncle White’s161 to dinner, where I met my father, where we alone had a fine jole of Ling to dinner. After dinner I took leave, and coming home heard that in Cheapside there had been but a little before a gibbet set up, and the picture of Huson162 hung upon it in the middle of the street. I called at Paul’s Churchyard, where I bought Buxtorf’s Hebrew Grammar;163 and read a declaration of the gentlemen of Northampton which came out this afternoon.164 Thence to my father’s, where I stayed with my mother a while and then to Mr. Crew’s about a picture to be sent into the country, of Mr. Thomas Crew,165 to my Lord. So [to] my Lady Wright to speak with her, but she was abroad, so Mr. Evans, her butler, had me into his buttery, and gave me sack and a lesson on his lute, which he played very well. Thence I went to my Lord’s and got most things ready against tomorrow, as fires and laying the cloth, and my wife was making of her tarts and larding of her pullets till eleven o’clock. This evening Mr. Downing sent for me, and gave me order to go to Mr. Jessop166 for his papers concerning his dispatch to Holland which were not ready, only his order for a ship to transport him he gave me. To my Lord’s again and so home with my wife, tired with this day’s work.
. To my office for £20 to carry to Mr. Downing, which I did and back again. Then came Mr. Frost to pay Mr. Downing his £500, and I went to him for the warrant and brought it Mr. Frost. Called for some papers at Whitehall for Mr. Downing, one of which was an Order of the Council for £1,800 per annum, to be paid monthly; and the other two, Orders to the Commissioners of Customs, to let his goods pass free. Home from my office to my Lord’s lodgings where my wife had got ready a very fine dinner—viz. a dish of marrow bones; a leg of mutton; a loin of veal; a dish of fowl, three pullets, and two dozen of larks all in a dish; a great tart, a neat’s tongue, a dish of anchovies; a dish of prawns and cheese. My company was my father, my uncle Fenner,167 his two sons, Mr. Pierce, and all their wives, and my brother Tom. We were as merry as I could frame myself to be in the company, W. Joyce talking after the old rate and drinking hard, vexed his father and mother and wife. And I did perceive that Mrs. Pierce her coming so gallant, that it put the two young women quite out of courage. When it became dark they all went away but Mr. Pierce, and W. Joyce, and their wives and Tom, and drank a bottle of wine afterwards, so that Will did heartily vex his father and mother by staying. At which I and my wife were much pleased. Then they all went and I fell to writing of two characters for Mr. Downing, and carried them to him at nine o’clock at night, and he did not like them but corrected them, so that tomorrow I am to do them anew. To my Lord’s lodging again and sat by the great log, it being now a very good fire, with my wife, and ate a bit and so home. The news this day is a letter that speaks absolutely Monk’s concurrence with this Parliament, and nothing else, which yet I hardly believe. After dinner today my father showed me a letter from my Uncle Robert,168 in answer to my last, concerning my money which I would have out of my Coz. Beck’s169 hand, wherein Beck desires it four months longer, which I know not how to spare.
. Going to my office I met with Tom Newton, my old comrade, and took him to the Crown in the Palace,170 and gave him his morning draught. And as he always did, did talk very high what he would do with the Parliament, that he would have what place he would, and that he might be one of the Clerks to the Council if he would. Here I stayed talking with him till the offices were all shut, and then I looked in the Hall, and was told by my bookseller, Mrs. Michell, that Mr. G. Montagu171 had inquired there for me. So I went to his house, and was forced by him to dine with him, and had a plenteous brave dinner and the greatest civility that ever I had from any man. Thence home and so to Mrs. Jem, and played with her at cards, and coming home again my wife told me that Mr. Hawly had been there to speak with me, and seemed angry that I had not been at the office that day, and she told me she was afraid that Mr. Downing may have a mind to pick some hole in my coat. So I made haste to him, but found no such thing from him, but he sent me to Mr. Sherwin’s172 about getting Mr. Squib to come to him tomorrow, and I carried him an answer. So home and fell a writing the characters for Mr. Downing, and about nine at night Mr. Hawly came, and after he was gone I sat up till almost twelve writing, and wrote two of them. In the morning up early and wrote another, my wife lying in bed and reading to me.
. I went to Mr. Downing and carried him three characters, and then to my office and wrote another, while Mr. Frost stayed telling money. And after I had done it Mr. Hawly came into the office and I left him and carried it to Mr. Downing, who then told me that he was resolved to be gone for Holland this morning. So I to my office again, and dispatch my business there, and came with Mr. Hawly to Mr. Downing’s lodging, and took Mr. Squib from Whitehall in a coach thither with me, and there we waited in his chamber a great while, till he came in; and in the meantime, sent all his things to the barge that lay at Charing-Cross Stairs. Then came he in, and took a very civil leave of me, beyond my expectation, for I was afraid that he would have told me something of removing me from my office; but he did not, but that he would do me any service that lay in his power. So I went down and sent a porter to my house for my best fur cap, but he coming too late with it I did not present it to him. Thence I went to Westminster Hall, and bound up my cap at Mrs. Michell’s, who was much taken with my cap, and endeavoured to overtake the coach at the Exchange and to give it him there, but I met with one that told me that he was gone, and so I returned and went to Heaven,173 where Luellin and I dined on a breast of mutton all alone, discoursing of the changes that we have seen and the happiness of them that have estates of their own, and so parted, and I went by appointment to my office and paid young Mr. Walton £500; it being very dark he took £300 by content. He gave me half a piece and carried me in his coach to St. Clement’s, from whence I went to Mr. Crew’s and made even with Mr. Andrews, and took in all my notes and gave him one for all. Then to my Lady Wright and gave her my Lord’s letter which he bade me give her privately. So home and then to Will’s for a little news, then came home again and wrote to my Lord, and so to Whitehall and gave them to the post-boy. Back again home and to bed.
. In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning’s, where he made an excellent sermon upon the 2nd of the Galatians, about the difference that fell between St. Paul and St. Peter (the feast day of St. Paul being a day or two ago), whereby he did prove, that, contrary to the doctrine of the Roman Church, St. Paul did never own any dependence, or that he was inferior to St. Peter, but that they were equal, only one a particular charge of preaching to the Jews, and the other to the Gentiles. Here I met with Mr. Moore, and went home with him to dinner to Mr. Crew’s, where Mr. Spurrier being in town did dine with us. From thence I went home and spent the afternoon in casting up my accounts, and do find myself to be worth £40 and more, which I did not think, but am afraid that I have forgot something. To my father’s to supper, where I heard by my brother Tom how W. Joyce would the other day have Mr. Pierce and his wife to the tavern after they were gone from my house, and that he had so little manners as to make Tom pay his share notwithstanding that he went upon his account, and by my father I understand that my uncle Fenner and my aunt were much pleased with our entertaining them. After supper home without going to see Mrs. Turner.
. This morning, before I was up, I fell a-singing of my song, “Great, good, and just,” etc.174 and put myself thereby in mind that this was the fatal day, now ten years since, his Majesty died. Scull the waterman came and brought me a note from the Hope175 from Mr. Hawly with direction, about his money, he tarrying there till his master be gone. To my office, where I received money of the excise of Mr. Ruddyer, and after we had done went to Will’s and stayed there till 3 o’clock and then I taking my £12 10s. 0d. due to me for my last quarter’s salary, I went with them by water to London to the house where Signr Torriano176 used to be and stayed there a while with Mr. Ashwell, Spicer and Ruddier. Then I went and paid £12 17s. 6d. due from me to Captn Dick Matthews according to his direction the last week in a letter. After that I came back by water playing on my flageolet and not finding my wife come home again from her father’s I went and sat awhile and played at cards with Mrs. Jem, whose maid had newly got an ague and was ill thereupon. So homewards again, having great need to do my business, and so pretending to meet Mr. Shott the wood monger of Whitehall I went and eased myself at the Harp and Ball, and thence home where I sat writing till bedtime and so to bed. There seems now to be a general cease of talk, it being taken for granted that Monk do resolve to stand to the Parliament, and nothing else. Spent a little time this night in knocking up nails for my hat and cloaks in my chamber.
. In the morning I fell to my lute till 9 o’clock. Then to my Lord’s lodgings and set out a barrel of soap to be carried to Mrs. Ann. Here I met with Nick Bartlet, one that had been a servant of my Lord’s at sea and at Harper’s gave him his morning draught. So to my office where I paid £1,200 to Mr. Frost and at noon went to Will’s to give one of the Excise office a pot of ale that came today to tell over a bag of his that wanted £7 in it, which he found over in another bag. Then home and dined with my wife when in came Mr. Hawly newly come from shipboard from his master, and brought me a letter of direction what to do in his lawsuit with Squib about his house and office. After dinner to Westminster Hall, where all we clerks had orders to wait upon the Committee, at the Star Chamber that is to try Colonel Jones,177 and were to give an account what money we had paid him; but the Committee did not sit today. Hence to Will’s, where I sat an hour or two with Mr. Godfrey Austin, a scrivener in King Street. Here I met and afterwards bought the answer to General Monk’s letter, which is a very good one, and I keep it by me. Thence to Mrs. Jem, where I found her maid in bed in a fit of the ague, and Mrs. Jem among the people below at work and by and by she came up hot and merry, as if they had given her wine, at which I was troubled, but said nothing; after a game at cards, I went home and wrote by the post and coming back called in at Harper’s and drank with Mr. Pulford, servant to Mr. Waterhouse,178 who tells me, that whereas my Lord Fleetwood should have answered to the Parliament today, he wrote a letter and desired a little more time, he being a great way out of town. And how that he is quite ashamed of himself, and confesses how he had deserved this, for his baseness to his brother. And that he is like to pay part of the money, paid out of the Exchequer during the Committee of Safety, out of his own purse again, which I am glad of. Home and to bed, leaving my wife reading in Polexandre.179 I could find nothing in Mr. Downing’s letter, which Hawly brought me, concerning my office; but I could discern that Hawly had a mind that I would get to be Clerk of the Council, I suppose that he might have the greater salary; but I think it not safe yet to change this for a public employment.
February 1659–60
. In the morning went to my office where afterwards the old man brought me my letters from the carrier. At noon I went home and dined with my wife on pease porridge and nothing else. After that I went to the Hall and there met with Mr. Swan and went with him to Mr. Downing’s Counsellor, who did put me in very little hopes about the business between Mr. Downing and Squib, and told me that Squib would carry it against him, at which I was much troubled, and with him went to Lincoln’s Inn and there spoke with his attorney, who told me the day that was appointed for the trial. From thence I went to Sir Harry Wright’s180 and got him to give me his hand for the £60 which I am tomorrow to receive from Mr. Calthrop and from thence to Mrs. Jem and spoke with Madam Scott181 and her husband who did promise to have the thing for her neck done this week. Thence home and took Gammer East, and James the porter, a soldier, to my Lord’s lodgings, who told me how they were drawn into the field today, and that they were ordered to march away tomorrow to make room for General Monk; but they did shut their Colonel Fitch,182 and the rest of the officers out of the field, and swore they would not go without their money, and if they would not give it them, they would go where they might have it, and that was the City. So the Colonel went to the Parliament, and commanded what money could be got, to be got against tomorrow for them, and all the rest of the soldiers in town, who in all places made a mutiny this day, and do agree together. Here I took some bedding to send to Mrs. Ann for her to lie in now she hath her fits of the ague. Thence I went to Will’s and stayed like a fool there and played at cards till 9 o’clock and so came home, where I found Mr. Hunt and his wife who stayed and sat with me till 10 and so good night.
. Drank at Harper’s with Doling, and so to my office, where I found all the officers of the regiments in town, waiting to receive money that their soldiers might go out of town, and what was in the Exchequer they had. At noon after dining at home I called at Harper’s for Doling, and he and I met with Luellin and drank with him at the Exchequer at Charing Cross, and thence he and I went to the Temple to Mr. Calthrop’s chamber, and from thence had his man by water to London Bridge to Mr. Calthrop, a grocer, and received £60 for my Lord. In our way we talked with our waterman, White,183 who told us how the watermen had lately been abused by some that had a desire to get in to be watermen to the State, and had lately presented an address of nine or ten thousand hands to stand by this Parliament, when it was only told them that it was to a petition against hackney coaches; and that today they had put out another to undeceive the world and to clear themselves, and that among the rest Cropp, my waterman and one of great practice, was one that did cheat them thus. After I had received the money we went to the Bridge Tavern and drank a quart of wine and so back by water, landing Mr. Calthrop’s man at the Temple and we went homewards, but over against Somerset House, hearing the noise of guns, we landed and found the Strand full of soldiers. So I took my money and went to Mrs. Johnson, my Lord’s sempstress, and giving her my money to lay up, Doling and I went upstairs to a window, and looked out and see the foot face the horse and beat them back, and stood bawling and calling in the street for a free Parliament and money. By and by a drum was heard to beat a march coming towards them, and they got all ready again and faced them, and they proved to be of the same mind with them; and so they made a great deal of joy to see one another. After all this, I took my money, and went home on foot and laying up my money, and changing my stockings and shoes, I this day having left off my great skirt suit, and put on my white suit with silver lace coat, and went over to Harper’s, where I met with W. Simons, Doling, Luellin and three merchants, one of which had occasion to use a porter, so they sent for one, and James the soldier came, who told us how they had been all day and night upon their guard at St. James’s, and that through the whole town they did resolve to stand to what they had began, and that tomorrow he did believe they would go into the City, and be received there. After all this we went to a sport called, selling of a horse for a dish of eggs and herrings, and sat talking there till almost twelve o’clock and then parted, they were to go as far as Aldgate. Home and to bed.
. Drank my morning draught at Harper’s, and was told there that the soldiers were all quiet upon promise of pay. Thence to St. James’s Park, and walked there to my place for my flageolet and then played a little, it being a most pleasant morning and sunshine. Back to Whitehall, where in the guard-chamber I saw about thirty or forty ’prentices of the City, who were taken at twelve o’clock last night and brought prisoners hither. Thence to my office, where I paid a little more money to some of the soldiers under Lieut.-Col. Miller (who held out the Tower against the Parliament after it was taken away from Fitch by the Committee of Safety, and yet he continued in his office). About noon Mrs. Turner came to speak with me, and Joyce, and I took them and showed them the manner of the Houses sitting, the doorkeeper very civilly opening the door for us. Thence with my cousin Roger Pepys,184 it being term time, we took him out of the Hall to Priors,185 the Rhenish wine-house, and there had a pint or two of wine and a dish of anchovies, and bespoke three or four dozen bottles of wine for him against his wedding. After this done he went away, and left me order to call and pay for all that Mrs. Turner would have. So we called for nothing more there, but went and bespoke a shoulder of mutton at Wilkinson’s to be roasted as well as it could be done, and sent a bottle of wine home to my house. In the meantime she and I and Joyce went walking all over Whitehall, whither General Monk was newly come, and we saw all his forces march by in very good plight and stout officers. Thence to my house where we dined, but with a great deal of patience, for the mutton came in raw, and so we were fain to stay the stewing of it. In the meantime we sat studying a Posy186 for a ring for her which she is to have at Roger Pepys his wedding. After dinner I left them and went to hear news, but only found that the Parliament House was most of them with Monk at Whitehall, and that in his passing through the town he had many calls to him for a free Parliament, but little other welcome. I saw in the Palace Yard how unwilling some of the old soldiers were yet to go out of town without their money, and swore if they had it not in three days, as they were promised, they would do them more mischief in the country than if they had stayed here; and that is very likely, the country being all discontented. The town and guards are already full of Monk’s soldiers. I returned, and it growing dark I and they went to take a turn in the park, where Theoph. (who was sent for to us to dinner) outran my wife and another poor woman, that laid a pot of ale with me that she would outrun her. After that I set them as far as Charing Cross, and there left them and my wife, and I went to see Mrs. Ann, who began very high about a flock bed I sent her, but I took her down. Here I played at cards till 9 o’clock. So home and to bed.
. In the morning at my lute an hour, and so to my office, where I stayed expecting to have Mr. Squib come to me, but he did not. At noon walking in the Hall I found Mr. Swan and got him and Captain Stone together, and there advised about Mr. Downing’s business. So to Will’s, and sat there till three o’clock and then to Mr. Swan’s, where I found his wife in very genteel mourning for her father, and took him out by water to the Counsellor at the Temple, Mr. Stephens, and from thence to Gray’s Inn, thinking to speak with Sotherton Ellis, but found him not, so we met with an acquaintance of his in the walks, and went and drank, where I ate some bread and butter, having ate nothing all day, while they were by chance discoursing of Marriot, the great eater, so that I was, I remember, ashamed to eat what I would have done. Here Swan showed us a ballad to the tune of Mardike which was most incomparably wrote in a printed hand, which I borrowed of him, but the song proved but silly, and so I did not write it out. Thence we went and leaving Swan at his master’s, my Lord Widdrington, I met with Spicer, Washington, and D. Vines in Lincoln’s Inn Court, and they were buying of a hanging jack to roast birds on of a fellow that was there selling of some. I was fain to slip from there and went to Mrs. Crew’s to her and advised about a maid to come and be with Mrs. Jem while her maid is sick, but she could spare none. Thence to Sir Harry Wright’s, but my lady not being within I spoke to Mrs. Carter about it, who will get one against Monday. So with a link boy187 to Scott’s, where Mrs. Ann was in a heat, but I spoke not to her, but told Mrs. Jem what I had done, and after that went home and wrote letters into the country by the post, and then played awhile on my lute, and so done, to supper and then to bed. All the news today is, that the Parliament this morning voted the House to be made up four hundred forthwith. This day my wife killed her turkeys that Mr. Sheply gave her, that came out of Zealand with my Lord, and could not get her maid Jane by no means at any time to kill anything.
. In the morning before church time Mr. Hawly, who had for this day or two looked something sadly, which methinks did speak something in his breast concerning me, came to me telling me that he was out £24 which he could not tell what was become of, and that he do remember that he had such a sum in a bag the other day, and could not tell what he did with it, at which I was very sorry but could not help him. In the morning to Mr. Gunning, where a stranger, an old man, preached a good honest sermon upon “What manner of love is this that we should be called the sons of God.” After sermon I could not find my wife, who promised to be at the gate against my coming out, and waited there a great while; then went to my house and finding her gone I returned and called at the Chequers, thinking to dine at the ordinary with Mr. Chetwind and Mr. Thomas, but they not being there I went to my father and found her there, and there I dined. To their church in the afternoon, and in Mrs. Turner’s pew my wife took up a good black hood and kept it. A stranger preached a poor sermon, and so read over the whole book of the story of Tobit. After sermon home with Mrs. Turner, stayed with her a little while, then she went into the court to a christening and we to my father’s, where I wrote some notes for my brother John to give to the Mercers188 tomorrow, it being the day of their apposition. After supper home, and before going to bed I stayed writing of this day its passages, while a drum came by, beating of a strange manner of beat, now and then a single stroke, which my wife and I wondered at, what the meaning of it should be. This afternoon at church I saw Dick Cumberland189 newly come out of the country from his living, but did not speak to him.
. Before I went to my office I went to Mr. Crew’s and paid Mr. Andrews the same £60 that he had received of Mr. Calthrop the last week. So back to Westminster and walked with him thither, where we found the soldiers all set in the Palace Yard, to make way for General Monk to come to the House.190 At the Hall we parted, and meeting Swan, he and I to the Swan and drank our morning draught. So back again to the Hall, where I stood upon the steps and saw Monk go by, he making observance to the judges as he went along. At noon my father dined with me upon my turkey that was brought from Denmark, and after dinner he and I to the Bull Head Tavern, where we drank half a pint of wine and so parted. I to Mrs. Ann, and Mrs. Jem being gone out of the chamber she and I had a very high bout, I rattled her up, she being in her bed, but she becoming more cool, we parted pretty good friends. Thence I went to Will’s, where I stayed at cards till 10 o’clock, losing half a crown, and so home to bed.
. In the morning I went early to give Mr. Hawly notice of my being forced to go into London, but he having also business we left our office business to Mr. Spicer and he and I walked as far as the Temple, where I halted a little and then went to Paul’s School, but it being too soon, went and drank my morning draught with my cousin Tom Pepys the turner,191 and saw his house and shop, thence to school, where he that made the speech for the seventh form in praise of the founder, did show a book which Mr. Crumlum had lately got, which is believed to be of the Founder’s own writing.192 After all the speeches, in which my brother John came off as well as any of the rest, I went straight home and dined, then to the Hall, where in the Palace I saw Monk’s soldiers abuse Billing and all the Quakers, that were at a meeting-place there, and indeed the soldiers did use them very roughly and were to blame.193 So after drinking with Mr. Spicer, who had received £600 for me this morning, I went to Capt. Stone and with him by coach to the Temple Gardens (all the way talking of the disease of the stone), where we met Mr. Squib, but would do nothing till tomorrow morning. Thence back on foot home, where I found a letter from my Lord in character,194 which I construed, and after my wife had shown me some ribbon and shoes that she had taken out of a box of Mr. Montagu’s which formerly Mr. Kipps had left here when his master was at sea, I went to Mr. Crew and advised with him about it, it being concerning my Lord’s coming up to Town, which he desires upon my advice the last week in my letter. Thence calling upon Mrs. Ann I went home, and wrote in character to my Lord in answer to his letter. This day Mr. Crew told me that my Lord St. John195 is for a free Parliament, and that he is very great with Monk, who hath now the absolute command and power to do anything that he hath a mind to do. Mr. Moore told me of a picture hung up at the Exchange of a great pair of buttocks shooting of a turd into Lawson’s mouth, and over it was wrote “The thanks of the house.” Boys do now cry “Kiss my Parliament,” instead of “Kiss my [rump],” so great and general a contempt is the Rump come to among all the good and bad.
. A little practice on my flageolet, and afterwards walking in my yard to see my stock of pigeons, which begin now with the spring to breed very fast. I was called on by Mr. Fossan,196 my fellow pupil at Cambridge, and I took him to the Swan in the Palace yard, and drank together our morning draught. Thence to my office, where I received money, and afterwards Mr. Carter,197 my old friend at Cambridge, meeting me as I was going out of my office I took him to the Swan, and in the way I met with Captain Lidcott, and so we three went together and drank there, the Captain talking as high as ever he did, and more because of the fall of his brother Thurlow.198 Hence I went to Captain Stone, who told me how Squib had been with him, and that he could do nothing with him, so I returned to Mr. Carter and with him to Will’s, where I spent upon him and Monsieur L’Impertinent, alias Mr. Butler, who I took thither with me, and thence to a Rhenish wine house, and in our way met with Mr. Hoole, where I paid for my cousin Roger Pepys his wine, and after drinking we parted. So I home, in my way delivering a letter which among the rest I had from my Lord today to Sir W. Wheeler. At home my wife’s brother199 brought her a pretty black dog which I liked very well, and went away again. Hence sending a porter with the hamper of bottles to the Temple I called in my way upon Mrs. Jem, who was much frighted till I came to tell her that her mother was well. So to the Temple, where I delivered the wine and received the money of my cos. Roger that I laid out, and thence to my father’s, where he showed me a base angry letter that he had newly received from my uncle Robert about my brother John, at which my father was very sad, but I comforted him and wrote an answer. My brother John has an exhibition granted him from the school. My father and I went down to his kitchen, and there we eat and drank, and about 9 o’clock I went away homewards, and in Fleet Street, received a great jostle from a man that had a mind to take the wall, which I could not help.200 I came home and to bed. Went to bed with my head not well by my too much drinking today, and I had a boil under my chin which troubled me cruelly.
. Soon as out of my bed I wrote letters into the country to go by carrier today. Before I was out of my bed, I heard the soldiers very busy in the morning, getting their horses ready where they lay at Hilton’s, but I knew not then their meaning in so doing. After I had wrote my letters I went to Westminster up and down the Hall, and with Mr. Swan walked a good [deal] talking about Mr. Downing’s business. I went with him to Mr. Phelps’s house where he had some business to solicit, where we met Mr. Rogers my neighbour, who did solicit against him and talked very high, saying that he would not for a £1,000 appear in a business that Swan did, at which Swan was very angry, but I believe he might be guilty enough. In the Hall I understand how Monk is this morning gone into London with his army; and met with Mr. Fage, who told me that he do believe that Monk is gone to secure some of the Common-council of the City, who were very high yesterday there, and did vote that they would not pay any taxes till the House was filled up. I went to my office, where I wrote to my Lord after I had been at the Upper Bench,201 where Sir Robert Pye202 this morning came to desire his discharge from the Tower; but it could not be granted. After that I went to Mrs. Jem, who I had promised to go along with to her Aunt Wright’s, but she was gone, so I went thither, and after drinking a glass of sack I went back to Westminster Hall, and meeting with Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who would needs take me home, where Mr. Lucy, Burrell, and others dined, and after dinner I went home and to Westminster Hall, where meeting Swan I went with him by water to the Temple to our Counsel, and did give him a fee to make a motion tomorrow in the Exchequer for Mr. Downing. Thence to Westminster Hall, where I heard an action very finely pleaded between my Lord Dorset203 and some other noble persons, his lady and other ladies of quality being here, and it was about £330 per annum, that was to be paid to a poor Spittal,204 which was given by some of his predecessors; and given on his side. Thence Swan and I to a drinking-house near Temple Bar, where while he wrote I played on my flageolet till a dish of poached eggs was got ready for us, which we eat, and so by coach home. I called at Mr. Harper’s, who told me how Monk had this day clapped up many of the Common-council, and that the Parliament had voted that he should pull down their gates and portcullisses, their posts and their chains, which he do intend to do, and do lie in the City all night. I went home and got some ahlum to my mouth, where I have the beginnings of a cancer, and had also a plaster to my boil underneath my chin.
. In the morning I went to Mr. Swan, who took me to the Court of Wards,205 where I saw the three Lords Commissioners sitting upon some cause where Mr. Scobell was concerned, and my Lord Fountaine206 took him up very roughly about some things that he said. After that we went to the Exchequer, where the Barons were hearing of causes, and there I made affidavit that Mr. Downing was gone into Holland by order of the Council of State, and this affidavit I gave to Mr. Stevens our lawyer. Thence to my office, where I got money of Mr. Hawly to pay the lawyer, and there found Mr. Lenard, one of the Clerks of the Council, and took him to the Swan and gave him his morning draught. Then home to dinner, and after that to the Exchequer, where I heard all the afternoon a great many causes before the Barons; in the end came ours, and Squib proved clearly by his patent that the house and office did now belong to him. Our lawyer made some kind of opposition, but to no purpose, and so the cause was found against us, and the foreman of the jury brought in £10 damages, which the whole Court cried shame of, and so he cried 12d. Thence I went home, vexed about this business, and there I found Mr. Moore, and with him went into London to Mr. Fage about the cancer in my mouth, which begins to grow dangerous, who gave me something for it, and also told me what Monk had done in the City, how he had pulled down the most part of the gates and chains that they could break down, and that he was now gone back to Whitehall. The City look mighty blank, and cannot tell what in the world to do; the Parliament having this day ordered that the Common-council sit no more; but that new ones be chosen according to what qualifications they shall give them. Thence I went and drank with Mr. Moore at the Sugar Loaf207 by Temple Bar, where Swan and I were last night, and so we parted. At home I found Mr. Hunt, who sat talking with me awhile, and so to bed.
. This morning I lay long abed, and then to my office, where I read all the morning my Spanish book of Rome. At noon I walked in the Hall, where I heard the news of a letter from Monk, who was now gone into the City again, and did resolve to stand for the sudden filling up of the House, and it was very strange how the countenance of men in the Hall was all changed with joy in half an hour’s time. So I went up to the lobby, where I saw the Speaker reading of the letter; and after it was read, Sir A. Haselrigge came out very angry, and Billing208 standing at the door, took him by the arm, and cried, “Thou man, will thy beast carry thee no longer? thou must fall!” The House presently after rose, and appointed to meet again at three o’clock. I went then down into the Hall, where I met with Mr. Chetwind, who had not dined no more than myself, and so we went toward London, in our way calling at two or three shops, but could have no dinner. At last, within Temple Bar, we found a pullet ready roasted, and there we dined. After that he went to his office in Chancery Lane, calling at the Rolls, where I saw the lawyers pleading. Then to his office, where I sat in his study singing, while he was with his man (Mr. Powell’s son) looking after his business. Thence we took coach for the City to Guildhall, where the Hall was full of people expecting Monk and Lord Mayor209 to come thither, and all very joyful. Here we stayed a great while, and at last meeting with a friend of his we went to the 3 Tun tavern and drank half a pint of wine, and not liking the wine we went to an alehouse, where we met with company of this third man’s acquaintance, and there we drank a little. Hence I went alone to Guildhall to see whether Monk was come again or no, and met with him coming out of the chamber where he had been with the Mayor and Aldermen, but such a shout I never heard in all my life, crying out, “God bless your Excellence.” Here I met with Mr. Lock,210 and took him to an alehouse, and left him there to fetch Chetwind; when we were come together, Lock told us the substance of the letter that went from Monk to the Parliament; wherein, after complaints that he and his officers were put upon such offices against the City as they could not do with any content or honour, that there are many members now in the House that were of the late tyrannical Committee of Safety.211 That Lambert and Vane are now in town, contrary to the vote of Parliament. That there were many in the House that do press for new oaths to be put upon men; whereas we have more cause to be sorry for the many oaths that we have already taken and broken. That the late petition of the fanatic people presented by Barebone,212 for the imposing of an oath upon all sorts of people, was received by the House with thanks. That therefore he [Monk] do desire that all writs for filling up of the House be issued by Friday next, and that in the meantime, he would retire into the City and only leave them guards for the security of the House and Council. The occasion of this was the order that he had last night to go into the City and disarm them, and take away their charter; whereby he and his officers say that the House had a mind to put them upon things that should make them odious; and so it would be in their power to do what they would with them. He told us that they [the Parliament] had sent Scott213 and Robinson to him [Monk] this afternoon, but he would not hear them. And that the Mayor and Aldermen had offered him their own houses for himself and his officers; and that his soldiers would lack for nothing. And indeed I saw many people give the soldiers drink and money, and all along in the streets cried, “God bless them!” and extraordinary good words. Hence we went to a merchant’s house hard by, where Lock wrote a note and left, where I saw Sir Nich. Crisp,214 and so we went to the Star Tavern215 (Monk being then at Benson’s), where we dined and I wrote a letter to my Lord from thence. In Cheapside there was a great many bonfires, and Bow bells and all the bells in all the churches as we went home were a-ringing. Hence we went homewards, it being about ten o’clock. But the common joy that was everywhere to be seen! The number of bonfires, there being fourteen between St. Dunstan’s and Temple Bar, and at Strand Bridge216 I could at one view tell thirty-one fires. In King-street seven or eight; and all along burning, and roasting, and drinking for rumps. There being rumps tied upon sticks and carried up and down. The butchers at the May Pole in the Strand217 rang a peal with their knives when they were going to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning of the spit that had a rump tied upon it, and another basting of it. Indeed it was past imagination, both the greatness and the suddenness of it. At one end of the street you would think there was a whole lane of fire, and so hot that we were fain to keep still on the further side merely for heat. We came to the Chequers at Charing Cross, where Chetwind wrote a letter and I gave him an account of what I had wrote for him to write. Thence home and sent my letters to the posthouse in London, and my wife and I (after Mr. Hunt was gone, whom I found waiting at my house) went out again to show her the fires, and after walking as far as the Exchange we returned and to bed.
. In the morning, it being Lord’s day, Mr. Pierce came to me to enquire how things go. We drank our morning draught together and thence to Whitehall, where Dr. Hones218 preached; but I stayed not to hear, but walking in the court, I heard that Sir Arth. Haselrigge was newly gone into the City to Monk, and that Monk’s wife219 removed from Whitehall last night. Home again, where at noon came according to my invitation my cos. Thos. Pepys and his partner and dined with me, but before dinner we went and took a walk round the park, it being a most pleasant day as ever I saw. After dinner we three went into London together, where I heard that Monk had been at Paul’s in the morning, and the people had shouted much at his coming out of the church. In the afternoon he was at a church in Broad-street,220 whereabout he do lodge. But not knowing how to see him we went and walked half a hour in Moorfields, which were full of people, it being so fine a day. Here I took leave of them, and so to Paul’s, where I met with Mr. Kirton’s221 apprentice (the crooked fellow) and walked up and down with him two hours, sometimes in the street looking for a tavern to drink in, but not finding any open, we durst not knock; other times in the churchyard, where one told me that he had seen the letter printed. Thence to Mr. Turner’s, where I found my wife, Mr. Edw. Pepys,222 and Roger223 and Mr. Armiger being there, to whom I gave as good an account of things as I could, and so to my father’s, where Charles Glascocke224 was overjoyed to see how things are now; who told me the boys had last night broke Barebone’s windows. Hence home, and being near home we missed our maid, and were at a great loss and went back a great way to find her, but when we could not see her we went homewards and found her there, got before us which we wondered at greatly. So to bed, where my wife and I had some high words upon my telling her that I would fling the dog which her brother gave her out of window if he [dirtied] the house any more.
. To my office till noon, thence home to dinner, my mouth being very bad of the cancer and my left leg beginning to be sore again. After dinner to see Mrs. Jem, and in the way met with Catan on foot in the street and talked with her a little, so home and took my wife to my father’s. In my way I went to Playford’s,225 and for two books that I had and 6s. 6d. to boot I had my great book of songs which he sells always for 14s. At my father’s I stayed a while, while my mother sent her maid Bess to Cheapside for some herbs to make a water for my mouth. Then I went to see Mr. Cumberland, and after a little stay with him I returned, and took my wife home, where after supper to bed. This day Monk was invited to Whitehall to dinner by my Lords; not seeming willing, he would not come. I went to Mr. Fage from my father’s, who had been this afternoon with Monk, who do promise to live and die with the City, and for the honour of the City; and indeed the City is very openhanded to the soldiers, that they are most of them drunk all day, and have money given them. He did give me something for my mouth which I did use this night.
. Called out in the morning by Mr. Moore, whose voice my wife hearing in my dressing-chamber with me, got herself ready, and came down and challenged him for her valentine, this being the day.226 To Westminster Hall, there being many new remonstrances and declarations from many counties to Monk and the City, and one coming from the North from Sir Thomas Fairfax.227 Hence I took him to the Swan and gave him his morning draught. So to my office, where Mr. Hill of Worcestershire came to see me and my partner in our office, with whom we went to Will’s to drink. At noon I went home and so to Mr. Crew’s, but they had dined, and so I went to see Mrs. Jem where I stayed a while, and home again where I stayed an hour or two at my lute, and so forth to Westminster Hall, where I heard that the Parliament hath now changed the oath so much talked of to a promise; and that among other qualifications for the members that are to be chosen, one is, that no man, nor the son of any man that hath been in arms during the life of the father, shall be capable of being chosen to sit in Parliament. To Will’s, where like a fool I stayed and lost 6d. at cards. So home, and wrote a letter to my Lord by the post. So after supper to bed. This day, by an order of the House, Sir H. Vane228 was sent out of town to his house in Lincolnshire.
. Called up in the morning by Captain Holland and Captain Cuttance,229 and with them to Harper’s, thence to my office, thence with Mr. Hill of Worcestershire to Will’s, where I gave him a letter to Nan Pepys,230 and some merry pamphlets against the Rump to carry to her into the country. So to Mr. Crew’s, where the dining room being full, Mr. Walgrave231 and I dined below in the buttery by ourselves upon a good dish of buttered salmon. Thence to Hering232 the merchant about my Lord’s Worcester money and back to Paul’s Churchyard, where I stayed reading in Fuller’s History of the Church of England233 an hour or two, and so to my father’s, where Mr. Hill came to me and I gave him direction what to do at Worcester about the money. Thence to my Lady Wright’s and gave her a letter from my Lord privily. So to Mrs. Jem and sat with her, who dined at Mr. Crew’s today, and told me that there was at her coming away at least forty gentlemen (I suppose members that were secluded, for Mr. Walgrave told me that there were about thirty met there the last night) came dropping in one after another thither. Thence home and wrote into the country against tomorrow by the carrier and so to bed. At my father’s I heard how my cousin Kate Joyce234 had a fall yesterday from her horse and had some hurt thereby. No news today, but all quiet to see what the Parliament will do about the issuing of the writs tomorrow for filling up of the House, according to Monk’s desire.
. In the morning at my lute. Then came Shaw and Hawly, and I gave them their morning draught at my house. So to my office, where I wrote by the carrier to my Lord and sealed my letter at Will’s, and gave it old East to carry it to the carrier’s, and to take up a box of china oranges and two little barrels of scallops at my house, which Captain Cuttance sent to me for my Lord. Here I met with Osborne235 and with Shaw and Spicer, and we went to the Sun Tavern in expectation of a dinner, where we had sent us only two trenchers-full of meat, at which we were very merry, while in came Mr. Wade and his friend Capt. Moyse (who told us of his hopes to get an estate merely for his name’s sake), and here we stayed till seven at night, I winning a quart of sack of Shaw that one trencherful that was sent us was all lamb and he that it was veal. I by having but 3d. in my pocket made shift to spend no more, whereas if I had had more I had spent more as the rest did, so that I see it is an advantage to a man to carry little in his pocket. Home, and after supper, and a little at my flute, I went to bed.
. In the morning Tom that was my Lord’s footboy came to see me and had 10s. of me of the money which I have to keep of his. So that now I have but 35s. more of his. Then came Mr. Hills the instrument maker, and I consulted with him about the altering my lute and my viol. After that I went into my study and did up my accounts, and found that I am about £40 beforehand in the world, and that is all. So to my office and from thence brought Mr. Hawly home with me to dinner, and after dinner wrote a letter to Mr. Downing about his business and gave it Hawly, and so went to Mr. Gunning’s to his weekly fast, and after sermon, meeting there with Monsieur L’Impertinent, we went and walked in the park till it was dark. I played on my pipe at the Echo, and then drank a cup of ale at Jacob’s. So to Westminster Hall, and he with me, where I heard that some of the members of the House were gone to meet with some of the secluded members and General Monk in the City. Hence we went to Whitehall, thinking to hear more news, where I met with Mr. Hunt, who told me how Monk had sent for all his goods that he had here into the City; and yet again he told me, that some of the members of the House had this day laid in firing into their lodgings at Whitehall for a good while, so that we are at a great stand to think what will become of things, whether Monk will stand to the Parliament or no. Hence Mons. L’Impertinent and I to Harper’s, and there drank a cup or two to the King, and to his fair sister Frances’236 good health, of whom we had much discourse of her not being much the worse for the small pox, which she had this last summer. So home and to bed. This day we are invited to my uncle Fenner’s wedding feast, but went not, this being the 27th year.
. A great while at my vial and voice, learning to sing “Fly boy, fly boy,” without book. So to my office, where little to do. In the Hall I met with Mr. Eglin and one Looker, a famous gardener, servant to my Lord Salsbury, and among other things the gardener told a strange passage in good earnest. … Home to dinner, and then went to my Lord’s lodgings to my turret there and took away most of my books, and sent them home by my maid. Thither came Capt. Holland to me who took me to the Half Moon tavern and Mr. Southorne, Blackburne’s clerk. Thence he took me to the Mitre in Fleet Street, where we heard (in a room over the music room) very plainly through the ceiling. Here we parted and I to Mr. Wotton’s, and with him to an alehouse and drank while he told me a great many stories of comedies that he had formerly seen acted, and the names of the principal actors, and gave me a very good account of it. Thence to Whitehall, where I met with Luellin and in the clerk’s chamber wrote a letter to my Lord. So home and to bed. This day two soldiers were hanged in the Strand for their late mutiny at Somerset-house.237
. Early in the morning I set my books that I brought home yesterday up in order in my study. Thence forth to Mr. Harper’s to drink a draught of purle238 whither by appointment Monsieur L’Impertinent, who did intend too upon my desire to go along with me to St. Bartholomew’s, to hear one Mr. Sparks, but it raining very hard we went to Mr. Gunning’s and heard an excellent sermon, and speaking of the character that the Scripture gives of Ann the mother of the blessed Virgin, he did there speak largely in commendation of widowhood, and not as we do to marry two or three wives or husbands, one after another. Here I met with Mr. Moore, and went home with him to dinner, where he told me the discourse that happened between the secluded members and the members of the House, before Monk last Friday. How the secluded said, that they did not intend by coming in to express revenge upon these men, but only to meet and dissolve themselves, and only to issue writs for a free Parliament. He told me how Haselrigge was afraid to have the candle carried before him, for fear that the people seeing him, would do him hurt; and that he is afraid to appear in the City. That there is great likelihood that the secluded members will come in, and so Mr. Crew and my Lord are likely to be great men, at which I was very glad. After dinner there was many secluded members come in to Mr. Crew, which, it being the Lord’s day, did make Mr. Moore believe that there was something extraordinary in the business. Hence home and brought my wife to Mr. Mossum’s to hear him, and indeed he made a very good sermon, but only too eloquent for a pulpit. Here Mr. L’Impertinent helped me to a seat. After sermon to my father’s, and fell in discourse concerning our going to Cambridge the next week with my brother John. To Mrs. Turner where her brother, Mr. Edward Pepys, was there, and I sat a great while talking of public business of the times with him. So to supper to my Father’s, all supper talking of John’s going to Cambridge. So home, and it raining my wife got my mother’s French mantle and my brother John’s hat, and so we went all along home and to bed.
. In the morning at my lute. Then to my office, where my partner and I made even our balance. Took him home to dinner with me, where my brother John came to dine with me. After dinner I took him to my study at home and at my Lord’s, and gave him some books and other things against his going to Cambridge. After he was gone I went forth to Westminster Hall, where I met with Chetwind, Simons, and Gregory.239 And with them to Marsh’s at Whitehall to drink, and stayed there a pretty while reading a pamphlet well writ and directed to General Monk, in praise of the form of monarchy which was settled here before the wars.240 They told me how the Speaker Lenthall do refuse to sign the writs for choice of new members in the place of the excluded; and by that means the writs could not go out today. In the evening Simons and I to the Coffee Club, where nothing to do only I heard Mr. Harrington, and my Lord of Dorset and another Lord, talking of getting another place as the Cockpit, and they did believe it would come to something. After a small debate upon the question whether learned or unlearned subjects are the best the Club broke up very poorly, and I do not think they will meet any more. Hence with Vines, etc. to Will’s, and after a pot or two home, and so to bed.
. In the morning going out I saw many soldiers going towards Westminster, and was told that they were going to admit the secluded members again. So I to Westminster Hall, and in Chancery Row241 I saw about twenty of them who had been at Whitehall with General Monk, who came thither this morning, and made a speech to them, and recommended to them a Commonwealth, and against Charles Stuart.242 They came to the House and went in one after another, and at last the Speaker came. But it is very strange that this could be carried so private, that the other members of the House heard nothing of all this, till they found them in the House, insomuch that the soldiers that stood there to let in the secluded members, they took for such as they had ordered to stand there to hinder their coming in. Mr. Prin243 came with an old basket-hilt sword on, and had a great many great shouts upon his going into the Hall. They sat till noon, and at their coming out Mr. Crew saw me, and bid me come to his house, which I did, and he would have me dine with him, which I did; and he very joyful told me that the House had made General Monk, General of all the Forces in England, Scotland, and Ireland; and that upon Monk’s desire, for the service that Lawson had lately done in pulling down the Committee of Safety, he had the command of the Sea for the time being. He advised me to send for my Lord forthwith, and told me that there is no question that, if he will, he may now be employed again; and that the House do intend to do nothing more than to issue writs, and to settle a foundation for a free Parliament. After dinner I back to Westminster Hall with him in his coach. Here I met with Mr. Lock and Pursell, Masters of Music244 and with them to the Coffee House, into a room next the water, by ourselves, where we spent an hour or two till Captain Taylor came to us, who told us, that the House had voted the gates of the City to be made up again, and the members of the City245 that are in prison to be set at liberty; and that Sir G. Booth’s246 case be brought into the House tomorrow. Here we had variety of brave Italian and Spanish songs, and a canon for eight voices, which Mr. Lock had lately made on these words: Domine salvum fac Regem, an admirable thing. Here also Capt. Taylor began a discourse of something that he had lately writ about Gavelkind247 in answer to one that had wrote a piece upon the same subject; and indeed discovered a great deal of study in antiquity in his discourse. Here out of the window it was a most pleasant sight to see the City from one end to the other with a glory about it, so high was the light of the bonfires, and so thick round the City, and the bells rang everywhere. Hence home and wrote to my Lord, afterwards came down and found Mr. Hunt (troubled at this change) and Mr. Spong, who stayed late with me singing of a song or two, and so parted. My wife not very well, went to bed before. This morning I met in the Hall with Mr. Fuller, of Christ’s, and told him of my design to go to Cambridge, and whither. He told me very freely the temper of Mr. Widdrington, how he did oppose all the fellows in the College, and that there was a great distance between him and the rest, at which I was very sorry, for that he told me he feared it would be little to my brother’s advantage to be his pupil.
. In the morning intended to have gone to Mr. Crew’s to borrow some money, but it raining I forbore, and went to my Lord’s lodging and look that all things were well there. Then home and sang a song to my viol, so to my office and to Will’s, where Mr. Pierce found me out, and told me that he would go with me to Cambridge, where Colonel Ayre’s regiment, to which he was surgeon, lieth. Walking in the Hall, I saw Major-General Brown,248 who had a long time been banished by the Rump, but now with his beard overgrown, he comes abroad and sat in the House. To my father’s to dinner, where nothing but a small dish of powdered beef249 and dish of carrots; they being all busy to get things ready for my brother John to go tomorrow. After dinner, my wife staying there, I went to Mr. Crew’s, and got £5 of Mr. Andrews, and so to Mrs. Jemimah, who now hath her instrument about her neck, and indeed is infinitely altered, and holds her head upright.250 I paid her maid 40s. of the money that I have received of Mr. Andrews. Hence home to my study, where I only wrote thus much of this day’s passages to this * and so out again. To Whitehall, where I met with Will. Simons and Mr. Mabbot at Marsh’s, who told me how the House had this day voted that the gates of the City should be set up at the cost of the State. And that Major-General Brown’s being proclaimed a traitor be made void, and several other things of that nature. Home for my lantern and so to my father’s, where I directed John what books to put for Cambridge. After that to supper, where my Uncle Fenner and my Aunt, The. Turner, and Joyce, at a brave leg of veal roasted, and were very merry against John’s going to Cambridge. I observed this day how abominably Barebone’s windows are broke again last night. At past 9 o’clock my wife and I went home.
. Thursday, my birthday, now twenty-seven years. A pretty fair morning, I rose and after writing a while in my study I went forth. To my office, where I told Mr. Hawly of my thoughts to go out of town tomorrow. Hither Mr. Fuller comes to me and my Uncle Thomas too, thence I took them to drink, and so put off my uncle. So with Mr. Fuller home to my house, where he dined with me, and he told my wife and me a great many stories of his adversities, since these troubles, in being forced to travel in the Catholic countries, etc. He showed me his bills, but I had not money to pay him. We parted, and I to Whitehall, where I was to see my horse which Mr. Garthwayt lends me tomorrow. So home, where Mr. Pierce comes to me about appointing time and place where and when to meet tomorrow. So to Westminster Hall, where, after the House rose, I met with Mr. Crew, who told me that my Lord was chosen by 73 voices, to be one of the Council of State. Mr. Pierpoint251 had the most, 101, and himself the next, too. He brought me in the coach home. He and Mr. Anslow being in it. I back to the Hall, and at Mrs. Michell’s shop stayed talking a great while with her and my Chaplain, Mr. Mumford, and drank a pot or two of ale on a wager that Mr. Prin is not of the Council. Home and wrote to my Lord the news of the choice of the Council by the post, and so to bed.
. I rose very early, and taking horse at Scotland Yard, at Mr. Garthwayt’s stable, I rode to Mr. Pierce’s, who rose, and in a quarter of an hour, leaving his wife in bed (with whom Mr. Lucy methought was very free as she lay in bed), we both mounted, and so set forth about seven of the clock, the day and the way very foul. About Ware we overtook Mr. Blayton, brother-in-law to Dick Vines, who went thenceforwards with us, and at Puckeridge we baited, where we had a loin of mutton fried, and were very merry, but the way exceeding bad from Ware thither. Then up again and as far as Foulmer, within six miles of Cambridge, my mare being almost tired: here we lay at the Chequer, playing at cards till supper, which was a breast of veal roasted. I lay with Mr. Pierce, who we left here the next morning upon his going to Hinchingbroke to speak with my Lord before his going to London, and we two come to Cambridge by eight o’clock in the morning.
. To the Falcon,252 in the Petty Cury,253 where we found my father and brother very well. After dressing myself, about ten o’clock, my father, brother, and I to Mr. Widdrington, at Christ’s College, who received us very civilly, and caused my brother to be admitted,254 while my father, he, and I, sat talking. After that done, we take leave. My father and brother went to visit some friends, Pepys’s, scholars in Cambridge,255 while I went to Magdalene College, to Mr. Hill,256 with whom I found Mr. Zanchy,257 Burton,258 and Hollins, and was exceeding civilly received by them. I took leave on promise to sup with them, and to my Inn again, where I dined with some others that were there at an ordinary. After dinner my brother to the College, and my father and I to my Cousin Angier’s,259 to see them, where Mr. Fairbrother260 came to us. Here we sat a while talking. My father he went to look after his things at the carrier’s, and my brother’s chamber, while Mr. Fairbrother, my Cousin Angier, and Mr. Zanchy, whom I met at Mr. Merton’s shop (where I bought Elenchus Motuum,261 having given my former to Mr. Downing when he was here), to the Three Tuns, where we drank pretty hard and many healths to the King, etc., till it began to be darkish: then we broke up and I and Mr. Zanchy went to Magdalene College, where a very handsome supper at Mr. Hill’s chambers, I suppose upon a club among them, where in their discourse I could find that there was nothing at all left of the old preciseness in their discourse, specially on Saturday nights. And Mr. Zanchy told me that there was no such thing nowadays among them at any time. After supper and some discourse then to my Inn, where I found my father in his chamber, and after some discourse, and he well satisfied with this day’s work, we went to bed, my brother lying with me, his things not being come by the carrier that he could not lie in the College.
. My brother went to the College to Chapel. My father and I went out in the morning, and walked out in the fields behind King’s College, and in King’s College Chapel Yard, where we met with Mr. Fairbrother, who took us to Botolph’s Church, where we heard Mr. Nicholas, of Queen’s College, who I knew in my time to be Tripos,262 with great applause, upon this text, “For thy commandments are broad.” Thence my father and I to Mr. Widdrington’s chamber to dinner, where he used us very courteously again, and had two Fellow Commoners at table with him, and Mr. Pepper, a Fellow of the College. After dinner, while we sat talking by the fire, Mr. Pierce’s man came to tell me that his master was come to town, so my father and I took leave, and found Mr. Pierce at our Inn, who told us that he had lost his journey, for my Lord was gone from Hinchingbroke to London on Thursday last, at which I was a little put to a stand. So after a cup of drink I went to Magdalene College to get the certificate of the College for my brother’s entrance there, that he might save his year. I met with Mr. Burton in the Court, who took me to Mr. Pechell’s chamber,263 where he was and Mr. Zanchy. By and by, Mr. Pechell and Sanchy and I went out, Pechell to Church, Sanchy and I to the Rose Tavern,264 where we sat and drank till sermon done, and then Mr. Pechell came to us, and we three sat drinking the King’s and his whole family’s health till it began to be dark. Then we parted; Sanchy and I went to my lodging, where we found my father and Mr. Pierce at the door, and I took them both and Mr. Blayton to the Rose Tavern, and there gave them a quart or two of wine, not telling them that we had been there before. After this we broke up, and my father, Mr. Zanchy, and I to my Cousin Angier to supper, where I caused two bottles of wine to be carried from the Rose Tavern; that was drunk up, and I had not the wit to let them know at table that it was I that paid for them, and so I lost my thanks for them. After supper Mr. Fairbrother, who supped there with us, took me into a room by himself, and showed me a pitiful copy of verses upon Mr. Prinn which he esteemed very good, and desired that I would get them given to Mr. Prinn, in hopes that he would get him some place for it, which I said I would do, but did laugh in my sleeve to think of his folly, though indeed a man that has always expressed great civility to me. After that we sat down and talked; I took leave of all my friends, and so to my Inn, where after I had wrote a note and enclosed the certificate to Mr. Widdrington, I bade good night to my father, and John went to bed, but I stayed up a little while, playing the fool with the lass of the house at the door of the chamber, and so to bed.
. Up by four o’clock, and after I was ready, took my leave of my father, whom I left in bed, and the same of my brother John, to whom I gave 10s. Mr. Blayton and I took horse and straight to Saffron Walden, where at the White Hart, we set up our horses, and took the master of the house to show us Audley End House,265 who took us on foot through the park, and so to the house, where the housekeeper showed us all the house, in which the stateliness of the ceilings, chimneypieces, and form of the whole was exceedingly worth seeing. He took us into the cellar, where we drank most admirable drink, a health to the King. Here I played on my flageolet, there being an excellent echo. He showed us excellent pictures; two especially, those of the four Evangelists and Henry VIII. After that I gave the man 2s. for his trouble, and went back again. In our going, my landlord carried us through a very old hospital or almshouse, where forty poor people was maintained; a very old foundation; and over the chimney in the mantelpiece was an inscription in brass: “Orate pro animâ Thomae Bird,” etc.;266 and the poor box also was on the same chimneypiece, with an iron door and locks to it, into which I put 6d. They brought me a draught of their drink in a brown bowl, tipped with silver, which I drank off, and at the bottom was a picture of the Virgin and the child in her arms, done in silver. So we went to our Inn, and after eating of something, and kissed the daughter of the house, she being very pretty, we took leave, and so that night, the road pretty good, but the weather rainy to Ep[p]ing, where we sat and played a game at cards, and after supper, and some merry talk with a plain bold maid of the house, we went to bed.
. Up in the morning, and had some red herrings to our breakfast, while my boot-heel was a-mending, by the same token the boy left the hole as big as it was before. Then to horse, and for London through the forest, where we found the way good, but only in one path, which we kept as if we had rode through a canal all the way. We found the shops all shut, and the militia of the red regiment in arms at the Old Exchange,267 among whom I found and spoke to Nich. Osborne, who told me that it was a thanksgiving-day through the City for the return of the Parliament. At Paul’s I light, Mr. Blayton holding my horse, where I found Dr. Reynolds268 in the pulpit, and General Monk there, who was to have a great entertainment at Grocers’ Hall.269 So home, where my wife and all well. Shifted myself270 and so to Mr. Crew’s, and then to Sir Harry Wright’s, where I found my Lord at dinner, who called for me in, and was glad to see me. There was at dinner also Mr. John Wright and his lady, a very pretty lady, Alderman Allen’s daughter. I dined here with Will. Howe,271 and after dinner went out with him to buy a hat (calling in my way and saw my mother), which we did at the Plough in Fleet Street by my Lord’s direction, but not as for him. Here we met with Mr. Pierce a little before, and he took us to the Greyhound Tavern,272 and gave us a pint of wine, and as the rest of the seamen do, talked very high again of my Lord. After we had done about the hat we went homewards, he to Mr. Crew’s and I to Mrs. Jem, and sat with her a little. Then home, where I found Mr. Sheply, almost drunk, come to see me, afterwards Mr. Spong comes, with whom I went up and played with him a Duo or two, and so good night. I was indeed a little vexed with Mr. Sheply, but said nothing, about his breaking open of my study at my house, merely to give him the key of the stair door at my Lord’s, which lock he might better have broke than mine.
. To my office, and drank at Will’s with Mr. Moore, who told me how my Lord is chosen General at Sea by the Council, and that it is thought that Monk will be joined with him therein. Home and dined, after dinner my wife and I by water to London, and thence to Herring’s, the merchant in Coleman Street, about £50 which he promises I shall have on Saturday next. So to my mother’s, and then to Mrs. Turner’s, of whom I took leave, and her company, because she was to go out of town tomorrow with Mr. Pepys into Norfolk. Here my cousin Norton273 gave me a brave cup of metheglin,274 the first I ever drank. To my mother’s and supped there. She showed me a letter to my father from my uncle inviting him to come to Brampton while he is in the country. So home and to bed. This day my Lord came to the House, the first time since he came to town; but he had been at the Council before.
March 1659–60
. In the morning went to my Lord’s lodgings, thinking to have spoke with Mr. Sheply, having not been to visit him since my coming to town. But he being not within I went up, and out of the box where my Lord’s pamphlets lay, I chose as many as I had a mind to have for my own use and left the rest. Then to my office, where little to do, abut Mr. Sheply comes to me, so at dinner time he and I went to Mr. Crew’s, whither Mr. Thomas275 was newly come to town, being sent with Sir H. Yelverton,276 my old schoolfellow at Paul’s School, to bring the thanks of the county to General Monk for the return of the Parliament. But old Mr. Crew and my Lord not coming home to dinner, we tarried late before we went to dinner, it being the day that John, Mr. John Crew’s coachman, was to be buried in the afternoon, he being a day or two before killed with a blow of one of his horses that struck his skull into his brain. From thence Mr. Sheply and I went into London to Mr. Laxton’s; my Lord’s apothecary, and so by water to Westminster, where at the Sun277 he and I spent two or three hours in a pint or two of wine, discoursing of matters in the country, among other things telling me that my uncle did to him make a very kind mention of me, and what he would do for me. Thence I went home, and went to bed betimes. This day the Parliament did vote that they would not sit longer than the 15th day of this month.
. This morning I went early to my Lord at Mr. Crew’s, where I spoke to him. Here were a great many come to see him, as Secretary Thurlow who is now by this Parliament chosen again Secretary of State. There were also General Monk’s trumpeters to give my Lord a sound of their trumpets this morning. Thence I went to my office, and wrote a letter to Mr. Downing about the business of his house. Then going home, I met with Mr. Eglin, Chetwind, and Thomas, who took me to the Leg in King’s street,278 where we had two brave dishes of meat, one of fish, a carp and some other fishes, as well done as ever I ate any. After that to the Swan tavern, where we drank a quart or two of wine, and so parted. So I to Mrs. Jem and took Mr. Moore with me (who I met in the street), and there I met W. Howe and Sheply. After that to Westminster Hall, where I saw Sir G. Booth at liberty. This day I hear the City militia is put into good posture, and it is thought that Monk will not be able to do any great matter against them now, if he have a mind. I understand that my Lord Lambert did yesterday send a letter to the Council, and that tonight he is to come and appear to the Council in person. Sir Arthur Haselrigge do not yet appear in the House. Great is the talk of a single person, and that it would now be Charles, George, or Richard again.279 For the last of which, my Lord St. John is said to speak high. Great also is the dispute now in the House, in whose name the writs shall run for the next Parliament; and it is said that Mr. Prin, in open House, said, “In King Charles’s.”280 From Westminster Hall home. Spent the evening in my study, and so after some talk with my wife, then to bed.
. To Westminster Hall, where I found that my Lord was last night voted one of the Generals at Sea, and Monk the other. I met my Lord in the Hall, who bid me come to him at noon. I met with Mr. Pierce the purser, Lieut. Lambert, Mr. Creed,281 and Will. Howe, and went with them to the Swan tavern. Up to my office, but did nothing. At noon home to dinner to a sheep’s head. My brother Tom came and dined with me, and told me that my mother was not very well, and that my Aunt Fenner was very ill too. After dinner I to Warwick House,282 in Holborn, to my Lord, where he dined with my Lord of Manchester,283 Sir Dudley North,284 my Lord Fiennes,285 and my Lord Barkly.286 I stayed in the great hall, talking with some gentlemen there, till they all come out. Then I, by coach with my Lord, to Mr. Crew’s, in our way talking of public things, and how I should look after getting of his Commissioner’s despatch. He told me he feared there was new design hatching, as if Monk had a mind to get into the saddle. Here I left him, and went by appointment to Hering, the merchant, but missed of my money, at which I was much troubled, but could not help myself. Returning, met Mr. Gifford, who took me and gave me half a pint of wine, and told me, as I hear this day from many, that things are in a very doubtful posture, some of the Parliament being willing to keep the power in their hands. After I had left him, I met with Tom Harper, who took me into a place in Drury Lane, where we drank a great deal of strong water,287 more than ever I did in my life at one time before. He talked huge high that my Lord Protector would come in place again, which indeed is much discoursed of again, though I do not see it possible. Hence home and wrote to my father at Brampton by the post. So to bed. This day I was told that my Lord General Fleetwood told my lord that he feared the King of Sweden288 is dead of a fever at Gottenburg.
. Lord’s day. Before I went to church I sang Orpheus’ Hymn289 to my viol. After that to Mr. Gunning’s, an excellent sermon upon charity. Then to my mother to dinner, where my wife and the maid were come. After dinner we three to Mr. Messum’s where we met Mons. L’Impertinent, who got us a seat and told me a ridiculous story how that last week he had caused a simple citizen to spend £80 in entertainments of him and some friends of his upon pretence of some service that he would do him in his suit after a widow. Then to my mother again, and after supper she and I talked very high about religion, I in defence of the religion I was born in. Then home.
. Early in the morning Mr. Hill comes to string my theorbo,290 which we were about till past ten o’clock, with a great deal of pleasure. Then to Westminster, where I met with Mr. Sheply and Mr. Pinkney at Will’s, who took me by water to Billingsgate, at the Salutation Tavern,291 whither by-and-by, Mr. Talbot and Adams came, and bring a great [deal of] good meat, a ham of bacon, etc. Here we stayed and drank till Mr. Adams began to be overcome. Then we parted, and so to Westminster by water, only seeing Mr. Pinkney at his own house, where he showed me how he had alway kept the Lion and Unicorn, in the back of his chimney, bright, in expectation of the King’s coming again. At home I found Mr. Hunt, who told me how the Parliament had voted that the Covenant be printed and hung in churches again. Great hopes of the King’s coming again. To bed.
. (Shrove Tuesday.) I called Mr. Sheply and we both went up to my Lord’s lodgings at Mr. Crew’s, where he bade us to go home again, and get a fire against an hour after. Which we did at Whitehall, whither he came, and after talking with him and me about his going to sea, he called me by myself to go along with him into the garden, where he asked me how things were with me, and what he had endeavoured to do with my uncle to get him to do something for me but he would say nothing too. He likewise bade me look out now at this turn some good place, and he would use all his own, and all the interest of his friends that he had in England, to do me good. And asked me whether I could, without too much inconvenience, go to sea as his secretary, and bid me think of it. He also began to talk of things of State, and told me that he should want one in that capacity at sea, that he might trust in, and therefore he would have me to go. He told me also, that he did believe the King would come in, and did discourse with me about it, and about the affection of the people and City, at which I was full glad. After he was gone, I waiting upon him through the garden till he came to the Hall, where I left him and went up to my office, where Mr. Hawly brought one to me, a seaman, that had promised £10 to him if he get him a purser’s place, which I think to endeavour to do. Here comes my uncle Tom, whom I took to Will’s and drank with, poor man, he comes to inquire about the knights of Windsor, of which he desires to get to be one.292 While we were drinking, in comes Mr. Day, a carpenter in Westminster, to tell me that it was Shrove Tuesday, and that I must go with him to their yearly Club upon this day, which I confess I had quite forgot. So I went to the Bell, where were Mr. Eglin, Veezy, Vincent a butcher, one more, and Mr. Tanner, with whom I played upon a viol, and he a violin, after dinner, and were very merry, with a special good dinner, a leg of veal and bacon, two capons and sausages and fritters, with abundance of wine. After that I went home, where I found Kate Sterpin who hath not been here a great while before. She gone I went to see Mrs. Jem, at whose chamber door I found a couple of ladies, but she not being there, we hunted her out, and found that she and another had hid themselves behind a door. Well, they all went down into the dining room, where it was full of tag, rag, and bobtail, dancing, singing, and drinking, of which I was ashamed, and after I had stayed a dance or two I went away. Going home, called at my Lord’s for Mr. Sheply, but found him at the Lion with a pewterer, that he had bought pewter today of. With them I drank, and so home and wrote by the post, by my Lord’s command, for J. Goods293 to come up presently. For my Lord intends to go forthwith into the Swiftsure294 till the Nazeby295 be ready. This day I hear that the Lords do intend to sit, and great store of them are now in town, and I see in the Hall today. Overton296 at Hull do stand out, but can, it is thought, do nothing; and Lawson, it is said, is gone with some ships thither, but all that is nothing. My Lord told me, that there was great endeavours to bring in the Protector again; but he told me, too, that he did believe it would not last long if he were brought in; no, nor the King neither (though he seems to think that he will come in), unless he carry himself very soberly and well. Everybody now drinks the King’s health without any fear, whereas before it was very private that a man dare do it. Monk this day is feasted at Mercers’ Hall, and is invited one after another to all the twelve Halls in London.297 Many think that he is honest yet, and some or more think him to be a fool that would raise himself, but think that he will undo himself by endeavouring it. My mind, I must needs remember, has been very much eased and joyed at my Lord’s great expressions of kindness this day, and in discourse thereupon my wife and I lay awake an hour or two in our bed.
. (Ash Wednesday.) In the morning I went to my Lord at Mr. Crew’s, in my way Washington overtook me and told me upon my question whether he knew of any place now void that I might have, by power over friends, that this day Mr. G. Montagu was to be made Custos Rotulorum for Westminster, and that by friends I might get to be named by him Clerk of the Peace, with which I was, as I am at all new things, very much joyed, so when I came to Mr. Crew’s, I spoke to my Lord about it, who told me he believed Mr. Montagu had already promised it, and that it was given him only that he might gratify one person with the place I look for. Here, among many that were here, I met with Mr. Lynes, the surgeon, who promised me some seeds of the sensitive plant.298 I spoke too with Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who gave me great encouragement to go to sea with my Lord. Thence going homewards, my Lord overtook me in his coach, and called me in, and so I went with him to St. James’s, and G. Montagu being gone to Whitehall, we walked over the Park thither, all the way he discoursing of the times, and of the change of things since the last year, and wondering how he could bear with so great disappointment as he did. He did give me the best advice that he could what was best for me, whether to stay or go with him, and offered all the ways that could be, how he might do me good, with the greatest liberty and love that could be. I left him at Whitehall, and myself went to Westminster to my office, whither nothing to do, but I did discourse with Mr. Falconbridge about Le Squire’s place, and had his consent to get it if I could. I afterwards in the Hall met with W. Simons, who put me in the best way how to get it done. Thence by appointment to the Angel299 in King Street, where Chetwind, Mr. Thomas and Doling were at oysters, and beginning Lent this day with a fish dinner. After dinner Mr. Thomas and I by water to London, where I went to Herring’s and received the £50 of my Lord’s upon Frank’s bill from Worcester. I gave in the bill and set my hand to his bill. Thence I went to the Pope’s Head Alley and called on Adam Chard, and bought a catcall there, it cost me two groats. Thence went and gave him a cup of ale. After that to the Sun behind the Exchange,300 where meeting my uncle Wight by the way, took him with me thither, and after drinking a health or two round at the Cock301 (Mr. Thomas being gone thither), we parted, he and I homewards, parted at Fleet Street, where I found my father newly come home from Brampton302 very well. He left my uncle with his leg very dangerous, and do believe he cannot continue in that condition long. He tells me that my uncle did acquaint him very largely what he did intend to do with his estate, to make me his heir and give my brother Tom something, and that my father and mother should have likewise something, to raise portions for John and Pall.303 I pray God he may be as good as his word. Here I stayed and supped and so home, there being Joyce Norton there and Ch. Glascock. Going home I called at Wotton’s and took home a piece of cheese. At home Mr. Sheply sat with me a little while, and so we all to bed. This news and my Lord’s great kindness makes me very cheerful within. I pray God make me thankful. This day, according to order, Sir Arthur [Haselrigge] appeared at the House; what was done I know not, but there was all the Rumpers almost come to the House today. My Lord did seem to wonder much why Lambert was so willing to be put into the Tower, and thinks he has some design in it; but I think that he is so poor that he cannot use his liberty for debts, if he were at liberty; and so it is as good and better for him to be there, than anywhere else.
. To Whitehall to bespeak some firing for my father at Short’s, and likewise to speak to Mr. Blackburne about Batters being gunner in the Wexford. Then to Westminster Hall, where there was a general damp over men’s minds and faces upon some of the Officers of the Army being about making a remonstrance against Charles Stuart or any single person; but at noon it was told, that the General had put a stop to it, so all was well again. Here I met with Jasper, who was to look for me to bring me to my Lord at the lobby; whither sending a note to my Lord, he comes out to me and gives me direction to look after getting some money for him from the Admiralty, seeing that things are so unsafe, that he would not lay out a farthing for the State, till he had received some money of theirs. Home about two o’clock, and took my wife by land to Paternoster Row, to buy some Paragon for a petticoat and so home again. In my way meeting Mr. Moore, who went home with me while I ate a bit and so back to Whitehall again, both of us. He waited at the Council for Mr. Crew. I to the Admiralty, where I got the order for the money, and have taken care for the getting of it assigned upon Mr. Hutchinson,304 Treasurer for the Navy, against tomorrow. Hence going home I met with Mr. King that belonged to the Treasurers at War and took him to Harper’s, who told me that he and the rest of his fellows are cast out of office by the new Treasurers. This afternoon, some of the Officers of the Army, and some of the Parliament, had a conference at Whitehall to make all right again, but I know not what is done. This noon I met at the Dog tavern305 Captain Philip Holland, with whom I advised how to make some advantage of my Lord’s going to sea, which he told me might be by having of five or six servants entered on board, and I to give them what wages I pleased, and so their pay to be mine; he was also very urgent to have me take the Secretary’s place, that my Lord did proffer me. At the same time in comes Mr. Wade and Mr. Sterry, secretary to the plenipotentiary in Denmark, who brought the news of the death of the King of Sweden at Gottenburgh306 the 3rd of the last month, and he told me what a great change he found when he came here, the secluded members being restored. He also spoke very freely of Mr. Wade’s profit, which he made while he was in Zeeland, how he did believe that he cheated Mr. Powell, and that he made above £500 on the voyage, which Mr. Wade did very angrily deny, though I believe he was guilty enough.
. To my Lord at his lodging, and came to Westminster with him in the coach, with Mr. Dudley with him, and he in the Painted Chamber307 walked a good while; and I telling him that I was willing and ready to go with him to sea, he agreed that I should, and advised me what to write to Mr. Downing about it, which I did at my office, that by my Lord’s desire I offered that my place might for a while be supplied by Mr. Moore, and that I and my security should be bound by the same bond for him. I went and dined at Mr. Crew’s, where Mr. Hawly comes to me, and I told him the business and showed him the letter promising him £20 a year, which he liked very well of. I did the same to Mr. Moore, which he also took for a courtesy. In the afternoon by coach, taking Mr. Butler with me to the Navy Office,308 about the £500 for my Lord, which I am promised to have tomorrow morning. Then by coach back again, and at Whitehall at the Council Chamber spoke with my Lord and got him to sign the acquittance for the £500, and he also told me that he had spoke to Mr. Blackburne to put off Mr. Creed and that I should come to him for direction in the employment. After this Mr. Butler and I to Harper’s, where we sat and drank for two hours till ten at night; the old woman she was drunk and began to talk foolishly in commendation of her son James. Home and to bed. All night troubled in my thoughts how to order my business upon this great change with me that I could not sleep, and being overheated with drink I made a promise the next morning to drink no strong drink this week, for I find that it makes me sweat and puts me quite out of order. This day it was resolved that the writs do go out in the name of the Keepers of the Liberty, and I hear that it is resolved privately that a treaty be offered with the King. And that Monk did check his soldiers highly for what they did yesterday.
. In the morning went to my father’s, whom I took in his cutting house309 and there I told him my resolution to go to sea with my Lord, and consulted with him how to dispose of my wife, and we resolved of letting her be at Mr. Bowyer’s.310 Thence to the Treasurer of the Navy, where I received £500 for my Lord, and having left £200 of it with Mr. Rawlinson311 at his house for Sheply, I went with the rest to the Sun Tavern on Fish Street Hill, where Mr. Hill, Stevens and Mr. Hater312 of the Navy Office had invited me, where we had good discourse and a fine breakfast of Mr. Hater. Then by coach home, where I took occasion to tell my wife of my going to sea, who was much troubled at it, and was with some dispute at last willing to continue at Mr. Bowyer’s in my absence. After this to see Mrs. Jem and paid her maid £7, and then to Mr. Blackburne, who told me what Mr. Creed did say upon the news of my coming into his place, and that he did propose to my Lord that there should be two Secretaries, which made me go to Sir H. Wright’s where my Lord dined and spoke with him about it, but he seemed not to agree to the motion. Hither W. Howe comes to me and so to Westminster. In the way he told me, what I was to provide and so forth against my going. He went with me to my office, whither also Mr. Madge comes half foxed and played the fool upon the violin that made me weary. Then to Whitehall and so home and set many of my things in order against my going. My wife was late making of caps for me, and the wench making an end of a pair of stockings that she was knitting of. So to bed.
. (Sunday.) All the day busy without my band on, putting up my books and things, in order to my going to sea. At night my wife and I went to my father’s to supper, where J. Norton and Chas. Glascocke supped with us, and after supper home, where the wench had provided all things against tomorrow to wash, and so to bed, where I much troubled with my cold and coughing.
. This day the wench rose at two in the morning to wash, and my wife and I lay talking a great while. I by reason of my cold could not tell how to sleep. My wife and I to the Exchange, where we bought a great many things, where I left her and went into London, and at Bedells the bookseller’s at the Temple gate I paid £12 10s. 6d. for Mr. Fuller by his direction. So came back and at Wilkinson’s found Mr. Sheply and some sea people, as the cook of the Nazeby and others, at dinner. Then to the White Horse in King Street, where I got Mr. Buddle’s horse to ride to Huntsmore313 to Mr. Bowyer’s, where I found him and all well, and willing to have my wife come and board with them while I was at sea, which was the business I went about. Here I lay and took a thing for my cold, namely a spoonful of honey and a nutmeg scraped into it, by Mr. Bowyer’s direction, and so took it into my mouth, which I found did do me much good.
. It rained hard and I got up early, and got to London by 8 o’clock at my Lord’s lodgings, who told me that I was to be secretary, and Creed to be deputy treasurer to the Fleet, at which I was troubled, but I could not help it. After that to my father’s to look after things, and so at my shoemaker’s and others. At night to Whitehall, where I met with Simons and Luellin at drink with them at Roberts at Whitehall. Then to the Admiralty, where I talked with Mr. Creed till the Brothers, and they were very seemingly willing and glad that I have the place since my Lord would dispose of it otherwise than to them. Home and to bed. This day the Parliament voted all that had been done by the former Rump against the House of Lords be void, and tonight that the writs go out without any qualification. Things seem very doubtful what will be the end of all; for the Parliament seems to be strong for the King, while the soldiers do all talk against.
. To my Lord, where infinity of applications to him and to me. To my great trouble, my Lord gives me all the papers that was given to him, to put in order and give him an account of them. Here I got half-a-piece of a person of Mr. Wright’s recommending to my Lord to be Preacher of the Speaker frigate.314 I went hence to St. James’s and Mr. Pierce the surgeon with me, to speak with Mr. Clerke,315 Monk’s secretary, about getting some soldiers removed out of Huntingdon to Oundle, which my Lord told me he did to do a courtesy to the town, that he might have the greater interest in them, in the choice of the next Parliament; not that he intends to be chosen himself, but that he might have Mr. G. Montagu and my Lord Mandeville316 chose there in spite of the Bernards.317 This done (where I saw General Monk and methought he seemed a dull heavy man), he and I to Whitehall, where with Luellin we dined at Marsh’s. Coming home telling my wife what we had to dinner, she had a mind to some cabbage, and I sent for some and she had it. Went to the Admiralty, where a strange thing how I am already courted by the people. This morning among others that came to me I hired a boy of Jenkins of Westminster and Burr318 to be my clerk. This night I went to Mr. Creed’s chamber where he gave me the former book of the proceedings in the fleet and the Seal. Then to Harper’s where old Beard was and I took him by coach to my Lord’s, but he was not at home, but afterwards I found him out at Sir H. Wright’s. Thence by coach, it raining hard, to Mrs. Jem, where I stayed a while, and so home, and late in the night put up my things in a sea-chest that Mr. Sheply lent me, and so to bed.
. Early packing up my things to be sent by cart with the rest of my Lord’s. So to Will’s, where I took leave of some of my friends. Here I met Tom Alcock, one that went to school with me at Huntingdon, but I had not seen him these sixteen years. So in the Hall paid and made even with Mrs. Michell; afterwards met with old Beale, and at the Axe paid him this quarter to Ladyday next. In the afternoon Dick Mathews comes to dine, and I went and drank with him at Harper’s. So into London by water, and in Fish Street my wife and I bought a bit of salmon for 8d. and went to the Sun Tavern and ate it, where I did promise to give her all that I have in the world but my books, in case I should die at sea. From thence homewards; in the way my wife bought linen for three smocks and other things. I went to my Lord’s and spoke with him. So home with Mrs. Jem by coach and then home to my own house. From thence to the Fox in King-street to supper on a brave turkey of Mr. Hawly’s, with some friends of his there, Will Bowyer, etc. After supper I went to Westminster Hall, and the Parliament sat till ten at night, thinking and being expected to dissolve themselves today, but they did not. Great talk tonight that the discontented officers did think this night to make a stir, but prevented. To the Fox again. Home with my wife, and to bed extraordinary sleepy.
. No sooner out of bed but troubled with abundance of clients, seamen. My landlord Vanly’s man came to me by my direction yesterday, for I was there at his house as I was going to London by water, and I paid him rent for my house for this quarter ending at Lady day, and took an acquittance that he wrote me from his master. Then to Mr. Sheply, to the Rhenish Tavern House, where Mr. Pim, the tailor, was, and gave us a morning draught and a neat’s tongue. Home and with my wife to London, we dined at my father’s, where Joyce Norton and Mr. Armiger dined also. After dinner my wife took leave of them in order to her going tomorrow to Huntsmore. In my way home I went to the Chapel319 in Chancery Lane to bespeak papers of all sorts and other things belonging to writing against my voyage. So home, where I spent an hour or two about my business in my study. Thence to the Admiralty, and stayed a while, so home again, where Will Bowyer came to tell us that he would bear my wife company in the coach tomorrow. Then to Westminster Hall, where I heard how the Parliament had this day dissolved themselves, and did pass very cheerfully through the Hall, and the Speaker without his mace. The whole Hall was joyful thereat, as well as themselves, and now they begin to talk loud of the King. Tonight I am told, that yesterday, about five o’clock in the afternoon, one came with a ladder to the Great Exchange,320 and wiped with a brush the inscription that was upon King Charles, and that there was a great bonfire made in the Exchange, and people called out “God bless. King Charles the Second!”321 From the Hall I went home to bed, very sad in mind to part with my wife, but God’s will be done.
. This morning bade adieu in bed to the company of my wife. We rose and I gave my wife some money to serve her for a time, and what papers of consequence I had. Then I left her to get her ready and went to my Lord’s with my boy Eliezer to my Lord’s lodging at Mr. Crew’s. Here I had much business with my Lord, and papers, great store, given me by my Lord to dispose of as of the rest. After that, with Mr. Moore home to my house and took my wife by coach to the Chequer in Holborn, where, after we had drank, etc., she took coach and so farewell. I stayed behind with Tom Alcock and Mr. Anderson, my old chamber fellow at Cambridge his brother, and drank with them there, who were come to me thither about one that would have a place at sea. Thence with Mr. Hawly to dinner at Mr. Crew’s. After dinner to my own house, where all things were put up into the dining room and locked up, and my wife took the keys along with her. This day, in the presence of Mr. Moore (who made it) and Mr. Hawly, I did before I went out with my wife, seal my will to her, whereby I did give her all that I have in the world, but my books which I give to my brother John, excepting only French books, which my wife is to have. In the evening at the Admiralty, I met my Lord there and got a commission for Williamson to be captain of the Harp frigate,322 and afterwards went by coach taking Mr. Crips with me to my Lord and got him to sign it at table as he was at supper. And so to Westminster back again with him with me, who had a great desire to go to sea and my Lord told me that he would do him any favour. So I went home with him to his mother’s house by me in Axe Yard, where I found Dr. Clodius’s wife and sat there talking and hearing of old Mrs. Crisp playing of her old lessons upon the harpsichon till it was time to go to bed. After that to bed, and Laud, her son,323 lay with me in the best chamber in her house, which indeed was finely furnished.
. I rose early and went to the barber’s (Jervas) in Palace Yard and I was trimmed by him, and afterwards drank with him a cup or two of ale, and did begin to hire his man to go with me to sea. Then to my Lord’s lodging where I found Captain Williamson and gave him his commission to be Captain of the Harp, and he gave me a piece of gold and 20s. in silver. So to my own house, where I stayed a while and then to dinner with Mr. Shepley at my Lord’s lodgings. After that to Mr. Mossum’s, where he made a very gallant sermon upon “Pray for the life of the King and the King’s son.” (Ezra 6:10.) From thence to Mr. Crew’s, but my Lord not being within I did not stay, but went away and met with Mr. Woodfine, who took me to an alehouse in Drury Lane, and we sat and drank together, and ate toasted cakes which were very good, and we had a great deal of mirth with the mistress of the house about them. From thence homewards, and called at Mr. Blagrave’s,324 where I took up my note that he had of mine for 40s., which he two years ago did give me as a pawn while he had my lute. So that all things are even between him and I. So to Mrs. Crisp, where she and her daughter and son and I sat talking till ten o’clock at night, I giving them the best advice that I could concerning their son, how he should go to sea, and so to bed.
. Early to my Lord, where infinity of business to do, which makes my head full; and indeed, for these two or three days, I have not been without a great many cares and thoughts concerning them. After that to the Admiralty, where a good while with Mr. Blackburne, who told me that it was much to be feared that the King would come in, for all good men and good things were now discouraged. Thence to Wilkinson’s, where Mr. Sheply and I dined; and while we were at dinner, my Lord Monk’s life-guard come by with the Serjeant at Arms before them, with two Proclamations, that all Cavaliers do depart the town; but the other that all officers that were lately disbanded should do the same. The last of which Mr. R. Creed,325 I remember, said, that he looked upon it as if they had said, that all God’s people should depart the town. Thence with some sea officers to the Swan, where we drank wine till one comes to me to pay me some money from Worcester, viz., £25. His name is Wilday. I sat in another room and took my money and drank with him till the rest of my company were gone and so we parted. Going home the water was high, and so I got Crockford to carry me over it. So home, and left my money there. All the discourse now-a-day is, that the King will come again; and for all I see, it is the wishes of all; and all do believe that it will be so. My mind is still much troubled for my poor wife, but I hope that this undertaking will be worth my pains. To Whitehall and stayed about business at the Admiralty late, then to Tony Robins’s, where Capt. Stokes, Mr. Luddington and others were, and I did solicit the Captain for Laud Crisp, who gave me a promise that he would entertain him. After that to Mrs. Crisp’s where Dr. Clodius and his wife were. He very merry with drink. We played at cards late and so to bed. This day my Lord dined at my Lord Mayor’s [Allan], and Jasper was made drunk, which my Lord was very angry at.
. This morning I rose early and went to my house to put things in a little order against my going, which I conceive will be tomorrow (the weather still very rainy). After that to my Lord, where I found very great deal of business, he giving me all letters and papers that come to him about business, for me to give him account of when we come on shipboard. Hence with Capt. Isham by coach to Whitehall to the Admiralty. He and I and Chetwind, Doling and Luellin dined together at Marsh’s at Whitehall. So to the Bull Head whither W. Simons comes to us and I gave them my foy326 against my going to sea; and so we took leave one of another, they promising me to write to me to sea. Hither comes Pim’s boy, by my direction, with two monteeres327 for me to take my choice of, and I chose the saddest colour and left the other for Mr. Sheply. Hence by coach to London, and took a short melancholy leave of my father and mother, without having them to drink, or say anything of business one to another. And indeed I had a fear upon me I should scarce ever see my mother again, she having a great cold then upon her.328 Then to Westminster, where by reason of rain and an easterly wind, the water was so high that there was boats rowed in King Street and all our yard was drowned, that one could not go to my house, so as no man has seen the like almost, most houses full of water.329 Then back by coach to my Lord’s; where I met Mr. Sheply, who stayed with me waiting for my Lord’s coming in till very late. Then he and I, and William Howe went with our swords to bring my Lord home from Sir H. Wright’s. He resolved to go tomorrow if the wind ceased. Sheply and I home by coach. I to Mrs. Crisp’s, who had sat over a good supper long looking for me. So we sat talking and laughing till it was very late, and so Laud and I to bed.
. To my Lord’s, but the wind very high against us, and the weather bad we could not go today; here I did very much business, and then to my Lord Widdrington’s from my Lord, with his desire that he might have the disposal of the writs of the Cinque Ports. My Lord was very civil to me, and called for wine, and writ a long letter in answer. Thence I went to a tavern over against Mr. Pierce’s with judge Advocate Fowler and Mr. Burr, and sat and drank with them two or three pints of wine. After that to Mr. Crew’s again and gave my Lord an account of what I had done, and so about my business to take leave of my father and mother, which by a mistake I have put down yesterday. Thence to Westminster to Crisp’s, where we were very merry; the old woman sent for a supper for me, and gave me a handkercher with strawberry buttons on it, and so to bed.
. Up very early and set things in order at my house, and so took leave of Mrs. Crispe and her daughter (who was in bed) and of Mrs. Hunt. Then to my Lord’s lodging at the gate and did so there, where Mr. Hawly came to me and I gave him the key of my house to keep, and he went with me to Mr. Crew’s, and there I took my last leave of him. But the weather continuing very bad my Lord would not go today. My Lord spent this morning private in sealing of his last will and testament with Mr. W. Mountagu.330 After that I went forth about my own business to buy a pair of riding grey serge stockings and sword and belt and hose, and after that took Wotton and Brigden to the Pope’s Head Tavern331 in Chancery Lane, where Gilb. Holland and Shelston were, and we dined and drank a great deal of wine, and they paid all. Strange how these people do now promise me anything; one a rapier, the other a vessel of wine or a gun, and one offered me his silver hatband to do him a courtesy. I pray God to keep me from being proud or too much lifted up hereby. After that to Westminster, and took leave of Kate Sterpin who was very sorry to part with me, and after that of Mr. George Mountagu, and received my warrant of Mr. Blackburne, to be Secretary to the two Generals of the Fleet. Then to take my leave of the Clerks of the Council, and thence Doling and Luellin would have me go with them to Mount’s chamber, where we sat and talked and then I went away. So to my Lord (in my way meeting Chetwind and Swan and bade them farewell) where I lay all night with Mr. Andrews. This day Mr. Sheply went away on board and I sent my boy with him. This day also Mrs. Jemimah went to Marrowbone,332 so I could not see her. Mr. Moore being out of town tonight I could not take leave of him nor speak to him about business which troubled me much. I left my small case therefore with Mr. Andrews for him.
. Up early, carried my Lord’s will in a black box to Mr. William Montagu for him to keep for him. Then to the barber’s and put on my cravat there. So to my Lord again, who was almost ready to be gone and had stayed for me. Hither came Gilb. Holland, and brought me a stick rapier and Shelston a sugar-loaf, and had brought his wife who he said was a very pretty woman to the Ship tavern hard by for me to see but I could not go. Young Reeve also brought me a little perspective glass which I bought for my Lord, it cost me 8s. So after that my Lord in Sir H. Wright’s coach with Captain Isham,333 Mr. Thomas, John Crew, W. Howe, and I in a Hackney to the Tower, where the barges stayed for us; my Lord and the Captain in one, and W. Howe and I, etc., in the other, to the Long Reach,334 where the Swiftsure lay at anchor; (in our way we saw the great breach which the late high water had made, to the loss of many £1,000 to the people about Limehouse.) Soon as my Lord on board, the guns went off bravely from the ships. And a little while after comes the Vice-Admiral Lawson,335 and seemed very respectful to my Lord, and so did the rest of the Commanders of the frigates that were thereabouts. I to the cabin allotted for me, which was the best that any had that belonged to my Lord. I got out some things out of my chest for writing and to work presently, Mr. Burr and I both. I supped at the deck table with Mr. Sheply. We were late writing of orders for the getting of ships ready, etc.; and also making of others to all the seaports between Hastings and Yarmouth, to stop all dangerous persons that are going or coming between Flanders and there. After that to bed in my cabin, which was but short; however I made shift with it and slept very well, and the weather being good I was not sick at all yet, I know not what I shall be.
. At work hard all the day writing letters to the Council, etc. This day Mr. Creed came on board and dined very boldly with my Lord, but he could not get a bed there. At night Capt. Isham who had been at Gravesend all last night and today came and brought Mr. Lucy (one acquainted with Mrs. Pierce, with whom I had been at her house), I drank with him in the Captain’s cabin, but my business could not stay with him. I despatch many letters today abroad and it was late before we could get to bed. Mr. Sheply and Howe supped with me in my cabin. The boy Eliezer flung down a can of beer upon my papers which made me give him a box of the ear, it having all spoiled my papers and cost me a great deal of work. So to bed.
. (Lord’s day). About two o’clock in the morning, letters came from London by our coxon, so they waked me, but I would not rise but bid him stay till morning, which he did, and then I rose and carried them in to my Lord, who read them abed. Among the rest, there was the writ and mandate for him to dispose to the Cinque Ports for choice of Parliament-men. There was also one for me from Mr. Blackburne, who with his own hand superscribes it to S. P. Esq., of which God knows I was not a little proud. After that I wrote a letter to the Clerk of Dover Castle, to come to my Lord about issuing of those writs. About ten o’clock Mr. Ibbott,336 at the end of the long table, begun to pray and preach and indeed made a very good sermon, upon the duty of all Christians to be steadfast in faith. After that Captain Cuttance337 and I had oysters, my Lord being in his cabin not intending to stir out today. After that up into the great cabin above to dinner with the Captain, where was Captain Isham and all the officers of the ship. I took place of all but the Captains; after dinner I wrote a great many letters to my friends at London. After that, sermon again, at which I slept, God forgive me! After that, it being a fair day, I walked with the Captain upon the deck talking. At night I supped with him and after that had orders from my Lord about some business to be done against tomorrow, which I sat up late and did and then to bed.
. This day it is two years since it pleased God that I was cut of the stone at Mrs. Turner’s in Salisbury Court. And did resolve while I live to keep it a festival, as I did the last year at my house, and forever to have Mrs. Turner and her company with me. But now it pleases God that I am where I am and so prevented to do it openly; only within my soul I can and do rejoice, and bless God, being at this time blessed be his holy name, in as good health as ever I was in my life. This morning I rose early, and went about making of an establishment of the whole Fleet, and a list of all the ships, with the number of men and guns. About an hour after that, we had a meeting of the principal commanders and seamen, to proportion out the number of these things. After that to dinner, there being very many commanders on board. All the afternoon very many orders were made, till I was very weary. At night Mr. Sheply and W. Howe came and brought some bottles of wine and some things to eat in my cabin, where we were very merry, remembering the day of being cut for the stone. Captain Cuttance came afterwards and sat drinking a bottle of wine till eleven, a kindness he do not usually do the greatest officer in the ship. After that to bed.
. Early in the morning at making a fair new establishment of the Fleet to send to the Council. This morning, the wind came about, and we fell into the Hope338 and in our passing by the Vice-Admiral, he and the rest of the frigates, with him, did give us abundance of guns and we them, so much that the report of them broke all the windows in my cabin and broke off the iron bar that was upon it to keep anybody from creeping in at the Scuttle.339 This noon I sat the first time with my Lord at table since my coming to sea. All the afternoon exceeding busy in writing of letters and orders. In the afternoon, Sir Harry Wright came onboard us, about his business of being chosen Parliament-man. My Lord brought him to see my cabin, when I was hard a-writing. At night supped with my Lord too, with the Captain, and after that to work again till it be very late. So to bed.
. This morning and the whole day busy, and that the more because Mr. Burr was about his own business all the day at Gravesend. At night there was a gentleman very well bred, his name was Banes, going for Flushing, who spoke French and Latin very well, brought by direction from Captain Clerke340 hither, as a prisoner, because he called out of the vessel that he went in, “Where is your King, we have done our business, Vive le Roi.” He confessed himself a Cavalier in his heart, and that he and his whole family had fought for the King; but that he was then drunk, having been all night taking his leave at Gravesend the night before, and so could not remember what it was that he said; but in his words and carriage showed much of a gentleman. My Lord had a great kindness for him, but did not think it safe to release him, but commanded him to be used civilly, so he was taken to the Master’s Cabin and had supper there. In the meantime I wrote a letter to the Council about him, and an order for the vessel to be sent for back that he was taken out of. But a while after, he sent a letter down to my Lord, which my Lord did like very well, and did advise with me what was best to be done. So I put in something to my Lord and then to the Captain that the gentleman was to be released and the letter stopped, which was done. So I went up and sat and talked with him in Latin and French, and drank a bottle or two with him; and about eleven at night he took boat again, and so God bless him. Thence I to my cabin and to bed. This day we had news of the election at Huntingdon for Bernard and Pedly,341 at which my Lord was much troubled for his friends’ missing of it.
. We lie still a little below Gravesend. At night Mr. Sheply returned from London, and told us of several elections for the next Parliament. That the King’s effigies was new making to be set up in the Exchange again. This evening was a great whispering of some of the Vice-Admiral’s captains that they were dissatisfied, and did intend to fight themselves, to oppose the General. But it was soon hushed, and the Vice-Admiral did wholly deny any such thing, and protested to stand by the General. At night Mr. Sheply, W. Howe, and I supped in my cabin. So up to the Master’s cabin, where we sat talking, and then to bed.
. I was saluted in the morning with two letters, from some that I had done a favour to, which brought me in each a piece of gold. This day, while my Lord and we were at dinner, the Nazeby came in sight towards us, and at last came to anchor close by us. After dinner my Lord and many others went on board her, where everything was out of order, and a new chimney made for my Lord in his bedchamber, which he was much pleased with. My Lord, in his discourse, discovered a great deal of love to this ship.342
. This morning Captain Jowles of the Wexford came on board, for whom I got commission from my Lord to be commander of the ship. Upon the doing thereof he was to make the 20s. piece that he sent me yesterday, up £5; wherefore he sent me a bill that he did owe me £4, which I sent my boy to Gravesend with him, and he did give the boy £4 for me, and the boy gave him the bill under his hand. This morning, Mr. Hill343 that lives in Axe-yard was here on board with the Vice-Admiral. I did give him a bottle of wine, and was exceedingly satisfied of the power that I have to make my friends welcome. Many orders to make all the afternoon. At night Mr. Sheply, Howe, Ibbott, and I supped in my cabin together.
April 1660
. Mr. Ibbott preached very well. After dinner my Lord did give me a private list of all the ships that were to be set out this summer, wherein I do discern that he hath made it his care to put by as much of the Anabaptists as he can. By reason of my Lord and my being busy to send away the packet by Mr. Cooke of the Nazeby, it was four o’clock before we could begin sermon again. This day Captain Guy come on board from Dunkirk, who tells me that the King will come in, and that the soldiers at Dunkirk do drink the King’s health in the streets. At night the Captain, Sir R. Stayner, Mr. Sheply, and I did sup together in the Captain’s cabin. I made a commission for Captain Wilgness, of the Bear, tonight, which got me 30s. So after writing a while I went to bed.
. Up very early, and to get all my things and my boy’s packed up. Great concourse of commanders here this morning to take leave of my Lord upon his going into the Nazeby, so that the table was full, so there dined below many commanders, and Mr. Creed, who was much troubled to hear that he could not go along with my Lord, for he had already got all his things thither, thinking to stay there, but W. Howe was very high against it, and he indeed did put him out, though everybody was glad of it. After dinner I went in one of the boats with my boy before my Lord, and made shift before night to get my cabin in pretty good order. It is but little, but very convenient, having one window to the sea and another to the deck, and a good bed. This morning comes Mr. Ed. Pickering,344 like a coxcomb as he always was. He tells me that the King will come in, but that Monk did resolve to have the doing of it himself, or else to hinder it.
. Late to bed. About three in the morning there was great knocking at my cabin, which with much difficulty (so they say) waked me, and I rose, but it was only for a packet, so went to my bed again, and in the morning gave it my Lord. This morning Capt. Isham comes on board to see my Lord and drunk his wine before he went into the Downs, there likewise come many merchants to get convoy to the Baltic, which a course was taken for. They dined with my Lord, and one of them by name Alderman Wood talked much to my Lord of the hopes that we have now to be settled, (under the King he meant); but my Lord took no notice of it. After dinner which was late my Lord went on shore, and after him I and Capt. Sparling went in his boat, but the water being almost at low water we could not stay for fear of not getting into our boat again. So back again. This day come the Lieutenant of the Swiftsure, who was sent by my Lord to Hastings, one of the Cinque Ports, to have got Mr. Edward Montagu345 to have been one of their burgesses, but could not, for they were all promised before. After he had done his message, I took him and Mr. Pierce, the surgeon (who this day came on board, and not before), to my cabin, where we drank a bottle of wine. At night, busy a-writing, and so to bed. My heart exceeding heavy for not hearing of my dear wife, and indeed I do not remember that ever my heart was so apprehensive of her absence as at this very time.
. This morning I dispatch many letters of my own private business to London. There come Colonel Thomson with the wooden leg, and General Penn,346 and dined with my Lord and Mr. Blackburne, who told me that it was certain now that the King must of necessity come in, and that one of the Council told him there is something doing in order to a treaty already among them. And it was strange to hear how Mr. Blackburne did already begin to commend him for a sober man, and how quiet he would be under his government, etc. I dined all alone to prevent company, which was exceeding great today, in my cabin. After these two were gone Sir W. Wheeler and Sir John Petters came on board and stayed about two or three hours, and so went away. The Commissioners came today, only to consult about a further reducement of the Fleet, and to pay them as fast as they can. I did give Davis, their servant, £5 10s. to give to Mr. Moore from me, in part of the £7 that I borrowed of him, and he is to discount the rest out of the 36s. that he do owe me. At night, my Lord resolved to send the Captain of our ship to Waymouth and promote his being chosen there, which he did put himself into a readiness to do the next morning.
. Infinity of business all the morning of orders to make, that I was very much perplexed that Mr. Burr had failed me of coming back last night, and we ready to set sail, which we did about noon, and came in the evening to Lee roads and anchored. At night Mr. Sheply overtook us who had been at Gray’s Market347 this morning. I spent all the afternoon upon the deck, it being very pleasant weather. This afternoon Sir Rich. Stayner and Mr. Creed, after we were come to anchor, did come on board, and Creed brought me £30, which my Lord had ordered him to pay me upon account, and Captain Clerke brought me a noted caudle. At night very sleepy to bed.
. This morning came my brother-in-law Balty348 to see me, and to desire to be here with me as Reformado349 which did much trouble me. But after dinner (my Lord using him very civilly, at table) I spoke to my Lord, and he presented me a letter to Captain Stokes350 for him that he should be there. All the day with him walking and talking, we under sail as far as the Spitts. In the afternoon, W. Howe and I to our violins, the first time since we came on board. This afternoon I made even with my Lord to this day, and did give him all the money remaining in my hands. In the evening, it being fine moonshine, I stayed late walking upon the quarterdeck with Mr. Cuttance, learning of some sea terms; and so down to supper and to bed, having an hour before put Balty into Burr’s cabin, he being out of the ship.
. This day, about nine o’clock in the morning, the wind grew high, and we being among the sands lay at anchor; I began to be dizzy and squeamish. Before dinner my Lord sent for me down to eat some oysters, the best my Lord said that ever he ate in his life, though I have ate as good at Bardsey.351 After dinner, and all the afternoon I walked upon the deck to keep myself from being sick, and at last about five o’clock, went to bed and got a caudle made me, and sleep upon it very well. This day Mr. Sheply went to Sheppy.
. Very calm again, and I pretty well, but my head ached all day. About noon set sail; in our way I see many vessels and masts, which are now the greatest guides for ships. We had a brave wind all the afternoon, and overtook two good merchantmen that overtook us yesterday, going to the East Indies. The lieutenant and I lay out of his window with his glass, looking at the women that were on board them, being pretty handsome. This evening Major Willoughby, who had been here three or four days on board with Mr. Pickering,352 went on board a catch353 for Dunkirk. We continued sailing when I went to bed, being somewhat ill again, and Will Howe, the surgeon, parson, and Balty supped in the Lieutenant’s cabin and afterwards sat disputing, the parson for and I against extemporary prayers, very hot.
. We having sailed all night, were come in sight of the Nore and South Forelands in the morning, and so sailed all day. In the afternoon we had a very fresh gale, which I brooked better than I thought I should be able to do. This afternoon I first saw France and Calais, with which I was much pleased, though it was at a distance. About five o’clock we came to the Goodwin, so to the Castles about Deale,354 where our Fleet lay, among whom we anchored. Great was the shout of guns from the castles and ships, and our answers, that I never heard yet so great rattling of guns. Nor could we see one another on board for the smoke that was among us, nor one ship from another. Soon as we came to anchor, the captains came from on board their ships all to us on board. This afternoon I wrote letters for my Lord to the Council, etc., which Mr. Pickering was to carry, who took his leave this night of my Lord, and Balty after I had wrote two or three letters by him to my wife and Mr. Bowyer, and had drank a bottle of wine with him in my cabin which J. Goods and W. Howe brought on purpose, he took leave of me too to go away tomorrow morning with Mr. Pickering. I lent Balty 15s. which he was to pay to my wife. It was one in the morning before we parted. This evening Mr. Sheply came on board, having escaped a very great danger upon a sand coming from Chatham.
. This morning many or most of the commanders in the Fleet came on board and dined here, so that some of them and I dined together in the Roundhouse, where we were very merry. Hither came the Vice-Admiral to us, and sat and talked and seemed a very good-natured man. At night as I was all alone in my cabin, in a melancholy fit playing on my violin, my Lord and Sir R. Stayner came into the coach355 and supped there, and called me out to supper with them. After that up to the Lieutenant’s cabin, where he and I and Sir Richard sat till 11 o’clock talking, and so to bed. This day my Lord Goring356 returned from France, and landed at Dover.
. A Gentleman came this morning from my Lord of Manchester to my Lord for a pass for Mr. Boyle,357 which was made him. I ate a good breakfast by my Lord’s orders with him in the great cabin below. The wind all this day was very high, so that a gentleman that was at dinner with my Lord that came along with Sir John Bloys358 (who seemed a fine man) was forced to rise from table. This afternoon came a great packet of letters from London directed to me, among the rest two from my wife, the first that I have since coming away from London. All the news from London is that things go on further towards a King. That the Skinners’ Company the other day at their entertaining of General Monk359 had took down the Parliament Arms in their Hall, and set up the King’s. In the evening my Lord and I had a great deal of discourse about the several Captains of the Fleet and his interest among them, and had his mind clear to bring in the King. He confessed to me that he was not sure of his own Captain [Cuttance] to be true to him, and that he did not like Captain Stokes. At night W. Howe and I at our violins in my cabin, where Mr. Ibbott and the lieutenant were late. I stayed the lieutenant late, showing him my manner of keeping a journal. After that to bed. It comes now into my mind to observe that I am sensible that I have been a little too free to make mirth with the minister of our ship, he being a very sober and an upright man.
. This day, the weather being very bad, we had no strangers on board. In the afternoon came the Vice-Admiral on board, with whom my Lord consulted, and I sent a packet to London at night with several letters to my friends, as to my wife about my getting of money for her when she should need it, to Mr. Bowyer that he tell me when the Messieurs of the offices be paid, to Mr. Moore about the business of my office, and making even with him as to matter of money. At night after I had despatched my letters, to bed.
. This day very foul all day for rain and wind. In the afternoon set my own things in my cabin and chests in better order than hitherto, and set my papers in order. At night sent another packet to London by the post, and after that was done I went up to the lieutenant’s cabin and there we broached a vessel of ale that we had sent for among us from Deale today. There was the minister and doctor with us. After that till one o’clock in the morning writing letters to Mr. Downing about my business of continuing my office to myself, only Mr. Moore to execute it for me. I had also a very serious and effectual letter from my Lord to him to that purpose. After that done then to bed, and it being very rainy, and the rain coming upon my bed, I went and lay with John Goods in the great cabin below, the wind being so high that we were fain to lower some of the masts. I to bed, and what with the goodness of the bed and the rocking of the ship I slept till almost ten o’clock, and then—
. Rose and drank a good morning draught there with Mr. Sheply, which occasioned my thinking upon the happy life that I live now, had I nothing to care for but myself. The sea was this morning very high, and looking out of the window I saw our boat come with Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, in it in great danger, who endeavouring to come on board us, had like to have been drowned had it not been for a rope. This day I was informed that my Lord Lambert is got out of the Tower360 and that there is £100 proffered to whoever shall bring him forth to the Council of State. My Lord is chosen at Waymouth this morning; my Lord had his freedom brought him by Captain Tiddiman361 of the port of Dover, by which he is capable of being elected for them. This day I heard that the Army had in general declared to stand by what the next Parliament shall do. At night supped with my Lord.
. Up early and was trimmed by the barber in the great cabin below. After that to put my clothes on and then to sermon, and then to dinner, where my Lord told us that the University of Cambridge had a mind to choose him for their burgess, which he pleased himself with, to think that they do look upon him as a thriving man, and said so openly at table. At dinnertime Mr. Cook came back from London with a packet which caused my Lord to be full of thoughts all day, and at night he bid me privately to get two commissions ready, one for Capt. Robert Blake to be captain of the Worcester,362 in the room of Capt. Dekings, an anabaptist, and one that had witnessed a great deal of discontent with the present proceedings. The other for Capt. Coppin363 to come out of that into the Newbury in the room of Blake, whereby I perceive that General Monk do resolve to make a thorough change, to make way for the King. From London I hear that since Lambert got out of the Tower, the Fanatics had held up their heads high, but I hope all that will come to nothing. Late a writing of letters to London to get ready for Mr. Cook. Then to bed.
. And about 4 o’clock in the morning Mr. Cook waked me where I lay in the great cabin below, and I did give him his packet and directions for London. So to sleep again. All the morning giving out orders and tickets to the Commanders of the Fleet to discharge all supernumeraries that they had above the number that the Council had set in their last establishment. After dinner busy all the afternoon writing, and so till night, then to bed.
. All the morning getting ready commissions for the Vice-Admiral364 and the Rear-Admiral,365 wherein my Lord was very careful to express the utmost of his own power, commanding them to obey what orders they should receive from the Parliament, etc., or both or either of the Generals.366 The Vice-Admiral dined with us, and in the afternoon my Lord called me to give him the commission for him, which I did, and he gave it him himself. A very pleasant afternoon, and I upon the deck all the day, it was so clear that my Lord’s glass showed us Calais very plain, and the cliffs were as plain to be seen as Kent, and my Lord at first made me believe that it was Kent. At night, after supper, my Lord called for the Rear-Admiral’s commission, which I brought him, and I sitting in my study heard my Lord discourse with him concerning D. King’s and Newberry’s being put out of commission. And by the way I did observe that my Lord did speak more openly his mind to me afterwards at night than I can find that he did to the Rear-Admiral, though his great confidant. For I was with him an hour together, when he told me clearly his thoughts that the King would carry it, and that he did think himself very happy that he was now at sea, as well for his own sake, as that he thought he might do his country some service in keeping things quiet. To bed, and shifting myself from top to toe, there being J. Goods and W. Howe sat late by my bedside talking. So to sleep, every day bringing me a fresh sense of the pleasure of my present life.
. This morning very early came Mr. Edward Montagu on board, but what was the business of his coming again or before without any servant and making no stay at all I cannot guess. This day Sir R. Stayner, Mr. Sheply, and as many of my Lord’s people as could be spared went to Dover to get things ready against tomorrow for the election there. I all the afternoon dictating in my cabin (my own head being troubled with multiplicity of business) to Burr, who wrote for me above a dozen letters, by which I have made my mind more light and clear than I have had it yet since I came on board. At night sent a packet to London, and Mr. Cook returned hence bringing me this news, that the Sectaries do talk high what they will do, but I believe all to no purpose, but the Cavaliers are something unwise to talk so high on the other side as they do. That the Lords do meet every day at my Lord of Manchester’s, and resolve to sit the first day of the Parliament. That it is evident now that the General and the Council do resolve to make way for the King’s coming. And it is now clear that either the Fanatics must now be undone, or the gentry and citizens throughout England, and clergy must fall, in spite of their militia and army, which is not at all possible I think. At night I supped with W. Howe and Mr. Luellin (being the first time that I had been so long with him) in the great cabin below. After that to bed, and W. Howe sat by my bedside, and he and I sang a psalm or two and so I to sleep.
. A great deal of business all this day, and Burr being gone to shore without my leave did vex me much. At dinner news was brought us that my Lord was chosen at Dover. This afternoon came one Mr. Mansell on board as a Reformado, to whom my Lord did show exceeding great respect, but upon what account I do not yet know. This day it has rained much, so that when I came to go to bed I found it wet through, so I was fain to wrap myself up in a dry sheet, and so lay all night.
. All the morning I was busy to get my window altered, and to have my table set as I would have it, which after it was done I was infinitely pleased with it, and also to see what a command I have to have everyone ready to come and go at my command. This evening came Mr. Boyle on board, for whom I writ an order for a ship to transport him to Flushing. He supped with my Lord, my Lord using him as a person of honour. This evening too came Mr. John Pickering on board us. This evening my head ached exceedingly, which I impute to my sitting backwards in my cabin, otherwise than I am used to do. Tonight Mr. Sheply told me that he heard for certain at Dover that Mr. Edw. Montagu did go beyond sea when he was here first the other day, and I am apt to believe that he went to speak with the King. This day one told me how that at the election at Cambridge for knights of the shire, Wendby367 and Thornton368 by declaring to stand for the Parliament and a King and the settlement of the Church, did carry it against all expectation against Sir Dudley North and Sir Thomas Willis.369 I supped tonight with Mr. Sheply below at the half-deck table, and after that I saw Mr. Pickering whom my Lord brought down to his cabin, and so to bed.
. This day dined Sir John Boys370 and some other gentlemen formerly great Cavaliers, and among the rest one Mr. Norwood,371 for whom my Lord give a convoy to carry him to the Brill372 but he is certainly going to the King. For my Lord commanded me that I should not enter his name in my book. My Lord do show them and that sort of people great civility. All their discourse and others are of the King’s coming, and we begin to speak of it very freely. And heard how in many churches in London, and upon many signs there, and upon merchants’ ships in the river, they had set up the King’s arms. In the afternoon the Captain would by all means have me up to his cabin, and there treated me huge nobly, giving me a barrel of pickled oysters, and opened another for me, and a bottle of wine, which was a very great favour. At night late singing with W. Howe, and under the barber’s hands in the coach. This night there came one with a letter from Mr. Edw. Montagu to my Lord, with command to deliver it to his own hands. I do believe that he do carry some close business on for the King.373 This day I had a large letter from Mr. Moore, giving me an account of the present dispute at London that is like to be at the beginning of the Parliament, about the House of Lords, who do resolve to sit with the Commons, as not thinking themselves dissolved yet. Which, whether it be granted or no, or whether they will sit or no, it will bring a great many inconveniences. His letter I keep, it being a very well writ one.
. Several Londoners, strangers, friends of the Captains, dined here, who, among other things told us, how the King’s Arms are every day set up in houses and churches, particularly in Allhallows Church in Thames-street,374 John Simpson’s church, which being privately done was a great eyesore to his people when they came to church and saw it. Also they told us for certain, that the King’s statue is making by the Mercers’ Company (who are bound to do it)375 to set up in the Exchange. After sermon in the afternoon I fell to writing letters against tomorrow to send to London. After supper to bed.
. All the morning very busy getting my packet ready for London, only for an hour or two had the Captain and Mr. Sheply in my cabin at the barrel of pickled oysters that the Captain did give me on Saturday last. After dinner I sent Mr. Dunn to London with the packet. This afternoon I had 40s. given me by Captain Cowes of the Paradox.376 In the evening the first time that we had any sport among the seamen, and indeed there was extraordinary good sport after my Lord had done playing at ninepins. After that W. Howe and I went to play two trebles in the great cabin below, which my Lord hearing, after supper he called for our instruments, and played a set of Lock’s, two trebles, and a base, and that being done, he fell to singing of a song made upon the Rump, with which he played himself well, to the tune of “The Blacksmith.”377 After all that done, then to bed.
. This morning I had Mr. Luellin and Mr. Sheply to the remainder of my oysters that were left yesterday. After that very busy all the morning. While I was at dinner with my Lord, the Coxon of the Vice-Admiral came for me to the Vice-Admiral to dinner. So I told my Lord and he gave me leave to go. I rose therefore from table and went, where there was very many commanders, and very pleasant we were on board the London,378 which hath a stateroom much bigger than the Nazeby, but not so rich. After that, with the Captain on board our own ship, where we were saluted with the news of Lambert’s being taken, which news was brought to London on Sunday last. He was taken in Northamptonshire by Colonel Ingoldsby,379 at the head of a party, by which means their whole design is broke, and things now very open and safe. And every man begins to be merry and full of hopes. In the afternoon my Lord gave a great large character to write out, so I spent all the day about it, and after supper my Lord and we had some more very good music and singing of “Turne Amaryllis,” as it is printed in the song book, with which my Lord was very much pleased. After that to bed.
. All the morning about my Lord’s character. Dined today with Captain Clerke on board the Speaker (a very brave ship) where was the Vice-Admiral, Rear-Admiral, and many other commanders. After dinner home, not a little contented to see how I am treated, and with what respect made a fellow to the best commanders in the Fleet. All the afternoon finishing of the character, which I did and gave it my Lord, it being very handsomely done and a very good one in itself, but that not truly Alphabetical. Supped with Mr. Sheply, W. Howe, etc. in Mr. Pierce, the Purser’s cabin, where very merry, and so to bed. Captain Isham came hither today.
. This day came Mr. Donne back from London, who brought letters with him that signify the meeting of the Parliament yesterday. And in the afternoon by other letters I hear, that about twelve of the Lords met and had chosen my Lord of Manchester380 Speaker of the House of Lords (the young Lords that never sat yet, do forbear to sit for the present); and Sir Harbottle Grimstone,381 Speaker for the House of Commons. The House of Lords sent to have a conference with the House of Commons, which, after a little debate, was granted. Dr. Reynolds382 preached before the Commons before they sat. My Lord told me how Sir H. Yelverton383 (formerly my schoolfellow) was chosen in the first place for Northamptonshire and Mr. Crew in the second. And told me how he did believe that the Cavaliers have now the upper hand clear of the Presbyterians. All the afternoon I was writing of letters, among the rest one to W. Simons, Peter Luellin and Tom Doling, which because it is somewhat merry I keep a copy of. After that done Mr. Sheply, W. Howe and I down with J. Goods into my Lord’s storeroom of wine and other drink, where it was very pleasant to observe the massy timbers that the ship is made of. We in the room were wholly under water and yet a deck below that. After that to supper, where Tom Guy supped with us, and we had very good laughing, and after that some music, where Mr. Pickering beginning to play a bass part upon the viol did it so like a fool that I was ashamed of him. After that to bed.
. This morning Burr was absent again from on board, which I was troubled at, and spoke to Mr. Pierce, Purser, to speak to him of it, and it is my mind. This morning Pim [the tailor] spent in my cabin, putting a great many ribbons to a suit. After dinner in the afternoon came on board Sir Thomas Hatton384 and Sir R. Maleverer385 going for Flushing; but all the world know that they go where the rest of the many gentlemen go that every day flock to the King at Breda.386 They supped here, and my Lord treated them as he do the rest that go thither, with a great deal of civility. While we were at supper a packet came, wherein much news from several friends. The chief is that, that I had from Mr. Moore, viz. that he fears the Cavaliers in the House will be so high, that the others will be forced to leave the House and fall in with General Monk, and so offer things to the King so high on the Presbyterian account that he may refuse, and so they will endeavour some more mischief; but when I told my Lord it, he shook his head and told me, that the Presbyterians are deceived, for the General is certainly for the King’s interest, and so they will not be able to prevail that way with him. After supper the two knights went on board the Grantham, that is to convey them to Flushing. I am informed that the Exchequer is now so low, that there is not £20 there, to give the messenger that brought the news of Lambert’s being taken; which story is very strange that he should lose his reputation of being a man of courage now at one blow, for that he was not able to fight one stroke, but desired of Colonel Ingoldsby several times for God’s sake to let him escape. Late reading my letters, my mind being much troubled to think that, after all our hopes, we should have any cause to fear any more disappointments therein. To bed. This day I made even with Mr. Creed, by sending him my bill and he me my money by Burr whom I sent for it.
. This morning sending a packet by Mr. Dunne to London. In the afternoon I played at ninepins with Mr. Pickering, I and Mr. Pett387 against him and Ted Osgood, and won a crown apiece of him. He had not money enough to pay me. After supper my Lord exceeding merry, and he and I and W. Howe to sing, and so to bed.
. This day I put on first my fine cloth suit made of a cloak that had like to have been [dirted] a year ago, the very day that I put it on. After sermon in the morning Mr. Cook came from London with a packet, bringing news how all the young lords that were not in arms against the Parliament do now sit. That a letter is come from the King to the House, which is locked up by the Council ’till next Tuesday that it may be read in the open House when they meet again, they having adjourned till then to keep a fast tomorrow. And so the contents is not yet known. £13,000 of the £20,000 given to General Monk is paid out of the Exchequer, he giving £12 among the teller clerks of Exchequer. My Lord called me into the great cabin below, where I opened my letters and he told me that the Presbyterians are quite mastered by the Cavaliers, and that he fears Mr. Crew did go a little too far the other day in keeping out the young lords from sitting. That he do expect that the King should be brought over suddenly, without staying to make any terms at all, saying that the Presbyterians did intend to have brought him in with such conditions as if he had been in chains. But he shook his shoulders when he told me how Monk had betrayed him, for it was he that did put them upon standing to put out the lords and other members that came not within the qualifications, which he [Montagu] did not like, but however he [Monk] had done his business, though it be with some kind of baseness. After dinner I walked a great while upon the deck with the chirurgeon and purser, and other officers of the ship, and they all pray for the King’s coming, which I pray God send.
. All the morning getting instructions ready for the Squadron of ships that are going today to the Streights, among others Captain Teddiman, Curtis, and Captain Robert Blake to be commander of the whole Squadron. After dinner to ninepins, W. Howe and I against Mr. Creed and the Captain. We lost 5s. apiece to them. After that W. Howe, Mr. Sheply and I got my Lord’s leave to go to see Captain Sparling.388 So we took boat and first went on shore, it being very pleasant in the fields; but a very pitiful town Deale is. We went to Fuller’s (the famous place for ale), but they have none but what was in the vat. After that to Poole’s, a tavern in the town, where we drank, and so to boat again, and went to the Assistance, where we were treated very civilly by the Captain, and he did give us such music upon the harp by a fellow that he keeps on board that I never expect to hear the like again, yet he is a drunken simple fellow to look on as any I ever saw. After that on board the Nazeby, where we found my Lord at supper, so I sat down and very pleasant my Lord was with Mr. Creed and Sheply, who he puzzled about finding out the meaning of the three notes which my Lord had cut over the crystal of his watch. After supper some music. Then Mr. Sheply, W. Howe and I up to the Lieutenant’s cabin, where we drank, and I and W. Howe were very merry, and among other frolics he pulls out the spigot of the little vessel of ale that was there in the cabin and drew some into his mounteere, and after he had drank, I endeavouring to dash it in his face, he got my velvet studying cap and drew some into mine too, that we made ourselves a great deal of mirth, but spoiled my clothes with the ale that we dashed up and down. After that to bed very late with drink enough in my head.
May 1660
. This morning I was told how the people of Deale have set up two or three Maypoles, and have hung up their flags upon the top of them, and do resolve to be very merry today. It being a very pleasant day, I wished myself in Hide Park.389 This day I do count myself to have had full two years of perfect cure for the stone, for which God of heaven be blessed. This day Captain Parker came on board, and without his expectation I had a commission for him for the Nonsuch frigate390 (he being now in the Cheriton), for which he gave me a French pistole. Captain H. Cuttance391 has commission for the Cheriton. After dinner to ninepins, and won something. The rest of the afternoon in my cabin writing and piping. While we were at supper we heard a great noise upon the Quarter Deck, so we all rose instantly, and found it was to save the coxon of the Cheriton, who, dropping overboard, could not be saved, but was drowned. Today I put on my suit that was altered from the great skirts to little ones. Today I hear they were very merry at Deale, setting up the King’s flag upon one of their maypoles, and drinking his health upon their knees in the streets, and firing the guns, which the soldiers of the Castle threatened; but durst not oppose.
. In the morning at a breakfast of radishes at the Purser’s cabin. After that to writing till dinner. At which time comes Dunne from London, with letters that tell us the welcome news of the Parliament’s votes yesterday, which will be remembered for the happiest Maiday that hath been many a year to England. The King’s letter was read in the House, wherein he submits himself and all things to them, as to an Act of Oblivion to all,392 unless they shall please to except any, as to the confirming of the sales of the King’s and Church lands, if they see good. The House upon reading the letter, ordered £50,000 to be forthwith provided to send to His Majesty for his present supply; and a committee chosen to return an answer of thanks to His Majesty for his gracious letter; and that the letter be kept among the records of the Parliament; and in all this not so much as one No. So that Luke Robinson393 himself stood up and made a recantation for what he had done, and promises to be a loyal subject to his Prince for the time to come. The City of London have put a Declaration, wherein they do disclaim their owing any other government but that of a King, Lords, and Commons. Thanks was given by the House to Sir John Greenville,394 one of the bedchamber to the King, who brought the letter, and they continued bare all the time it was reading. Upon notice made from the Lords to the Commons, of their desire that the Commons would join with them in their vote for King, Lords, and Commons; the Commons did concur and voted that all books whatever that are out against the Government of King, Lords, and Commons, should be brought into the House and burned. Great joy all yesterday at London, and at night more bonfires than ever, and ringing of bells, and drinking of the King’s health upon their knees in the streets, which methinks is a little too much. But everybody seems to be very joyful in the business, insomuch that our sea-commanders now begin to say so too, which a week ago they would not do.395 And our seamen, as many as had money or credit for drink, did do nothing else this evening. This day came Mr. North396 (Sir Dudley North’s son) on board, to spend a little time here, which my Lord was a little troubled at, but he seems to be a fine gentleman, and at night did play his part exceeding well at first sight. After music I went up to the Captain’s Cabin with him and Lieutenant Ferrers, who came hither today from London to bring this news to my Lord, and after a bottle of wine we all to bed.
. This morning my Lord showed me the King’s declaration and his letter to the two Generals to be communicated to the fleet.397 The contents of the letter are his offer of grace to all that will come in within forty days, only excepting them that the Parliament shall hereafter except. That the sales of lands during these troubles, and all other things, shall be left to the Parliament, by which he will stand. The letter dated at Breda, April 4 1660, in the 12th year of his reign. Upon the receipt of it this morning by an express, Mr. Phillips, one of the messengers of the Council from General Monk, my Lord summoned a council of war, and in the meantime did dictate to me how he would have the vote ordered which he would have pass this council. Which done, the Commanders all came on board, and the council sat in the coach (the first council of war that had been in my time), where I read the letter and declaration; and while they were discoursing upon it, I seemed to draw up a vote, which being offered, they passed. Not one man seemed to say no to it, though I am confident many in their hearts were against it. After this was done, I went up to the quarterdeck with my Lord and the Commanders, and there read both the papers and the vote; which done, and demanding their opinion, the seamen did all of them cry out, “God bless King Charles!” with the greatest joy imaginable. That being done, Sir R. Stayner, who had invited us yesterday, took all the Commanders and myself on board him to dinner, which not being ready, I went with Captain Hayward to the Plimouth and Essex,398 and did what I had to do there and returned, where very merry at dinner. After dinner, to the rest of the ships (stayed at the Assistance to hear the harper a good while) quite through the fleet. Which was a very brave sight to visit all the ships, and to be received with the respect and honour that I was on board them all; and much more to see the great joy that I brought to all men; not one through the whole fleet showing the least dislike of the business. In the evening as I was going on board the Vice-Admiral, the General began to fire his guns, which he did all that he had in the ship, and so did all the rest of the Commanders, which was very gallant, and to hear the bullets go hissing over our heads as we were in the boat. This done and finished my Proclamation, I returned to the Nazeby, where my Lord was much pleased to hear how all the fleet took it in a transport of joy, showed me a private letter of the King’s to him, and another from the Duke of York in such familiar style as to their common friend, with all kindness imaginable. And I found by the letters, and so my Lord told me too, that there had been many letters passed between them for a great while, and I perceive unknown to Monk. And among the rest that had carried these letters Sir John Boys is one, and that Mr. Norwood, which had a ship to carry him over the other day, when my Lord would not have me put down his name in the book. The King speaks of his being courted to come to the Hague, but do desire my Lord’s advice whither to come to take ship. And the Duke offers to learn the seaman’s trade of him, in such familiar words as if Jack Cole and I had writ them. This was very strange to me, that my Lord should carry all things so wisely and prudently as he do, and I was over joyful to see him in so good condition, and he did not a little please himself to tell me how he had provided for himself so great a hold on the King.
After this to supper, and then to writing of letters till twelve at night, and so up again at three in the morning. My Lord seemed to put great confidence in me, and would take my advice in many things. I perceive his being willing to do all the honour in the world to Monk, and to let him have all the honour of doing the business, though he will many times express his thoughts of him to be but a thick-skulled fool. So that I do believe there is some agreement more than ordinary between the King and my Lord to let Monk carry on the business, for it is he that must do the business, or at least that can hinder it, if he be not flattered and observed. This, my Lord will hint himself sometimes. My Lord, I perceive by the King’s letter, had writ to him about his father, Crew399 and the King did speak well of him; but my Lord tells me, that he is afeard that he hath too much concerned himself with the Presbyterians against the House of Lords, which will do him a great discourtesy.
. I wrote this morning many letters, and to all the copies of the vote of the council of war I put my name, that if it should come in print my name may be at it. I sent a copy of the vote to Doling, enclosed in this letter:
“Sir,
“He that can fancy a fleet (like ours) in her pride, with pendants loose, guns roaring, caps flying, and the loud ‘Vive le Roys,’ echoed from one ship’s company to another, he, and he only, can apprehend the joy this enclosed vote was received with, or the blessing he thought himself possessed of that bore it, and is
“Your humble servant.”
About nine o’clock I got all my letters done, and sent them by the messenger that came yesterday. This morning came Captain Isham on board with a gentleman going to the King, by whom very cunningly, my Lord tells me, he intends to send an account of this day’s and yesterday’s actions here, notwithstanding he had writ to the Parliament to have leave of them to send the King the answer of the fleet. Since my writing of the last paragraph, my Lord called me to him to read his letter to the King, to see whether I could find any slips in it or no. And as much of the letter400 as I can remember, is thus:
“May it please your Most Excellent Majesty,” and so begins.
“That he yesterday received from General Monk his Majesty’s letter and direction; and that General Monk had desired him to write to the Parliament to have leave to send the vote of the seamen before he did send it to him, which he had done by writing to both Speakers; but for his private satisfaction he had sent it thus privately (and so the copy of the proceedings yesterday was sent him), and that this come by a gentleman that came this day on board, intending to wait upon his Majesty, that he is my Lord’s countryman, and one whose friends have suffered much on his Majesty’s behalf. That my Lords Pembroke401 and Salisbury402 are put out of the House of Lords. That my Lord is very joyful that other countries do pay him the civility and respect due to him; and that he do much rejoice to see that the King do resolve to receive none of their assistance (or some such words), from them, he having strength enough in the love and loyalty of his own subjects to support him. That his Majesty had chosen the best place, Scheveling403 for his embarking, and that there is nothing in the world of which he is more ambitious, than to have the honour of attending his Majesty, which he hoped would be speedy. That he had commanded the vessel to attend at Helversluce404 till this gentleman returns, that so if his Majesty do not think it fit to command the fleet himself, yet that he may be there to receive his commands and bring them to his Lordship. He ends his letter, that he is confounded with the thoughts of the high expressions of love to him in the King’s letter, and concludes,
The rest of the afternoon at ninepins. In the evening came a packet from London, among the rest a letter from my wife, which tells me that she has not been well, which did exceedingly trouble me, but my Lord sending Mr. Cook at night, I wrote to her and sent a piece of gold enclosed to her, and wrote also to Mrs. Bowyer, and enclosed a half piece to her for a token. After supper at the table in the coach, my Lord talking concerning the uncertainty of the places of the Exchequer to them that had them now; he did at last think of an office which do belong to him in case the King do restore every man to his places that ever had been patent, which is to be one of the clerks of the signet, which will be a fine employment for one of his sons. After all this discourse we broke up and to bed.
In the afternoon came a minister on board, one Mr. Sharpe, who is going to the King; who tells me that Commissioners are chosen both of Lords and Commons to go to the King; and that Dr. Clarges405 is going to him from the Army, and that he will be here tomorrow. My letters at night tell me, that the House did deliver their letter to Sir John Greenville, in answer to the King’s sending, and that they give him £500 for his pains, to buy him a jewel, and that besides the £50,000 ordered to be borrowed of the City for the present use of the King, the twelve companies of the City do give every one of them to his Majesty, as a present, £1,000.
. All the morning very busy writing letters to London, and a packet to Mr. Downing, to acquaint him with what had been done lately in the fleet. And this I did by my Lord’s command, who, I thank him, did of himself think of doing it, to do me a kindness, for he writ a letter himself to him, thanking him for his kindness to me. All the afternoon at ninepins, at night after supper good music, my Lord, Mr. North, I and W. Howe. After that to bed. This evening came Dr. Clarges to Deale, going to the King; where the townspeople strewed the streets with herbs against his coming, for joy of his going. Never was there so general a content as there is now. I cannot but remember that our parson did, in his prayer tonight, pray for the long life and happiness of our King and dread Sovereign, that may last as long as the sun and moon endureth.
. This morning while we were at sermon comes in Dr. Clarges and a dozen gentlemen to see my Lord, who, after sermon, dined with him; I remember that last night upon discourse concerning Clarges my Lord told me that he was a man of small entendimiento.406 This afternoon there was a gentleman with me, an officer of Dunkirk going over, who came to me for an order and told me he was lately with my uncle and Aunt Fenner and that Kate’s407 fits of the convulsions did hold her still. It fell very well today, a stranger preached here for Mr. Ibbot, one Mr. Stanley, who prayed for King Charles, by the Grace of God, etc., which gave great contentment to the gentlemen that were on board here, and they said they would talk of it, when they come to Breda, as not having it done yet in London so publicly. After they were gone from on board, my Lord writ a letter to the King and give it to me to carry privately to Sir William Compton on board the Assistance,408 which I did, and after a health to his Majesty on board there, I left them under sail for Breda. Back again and found them at sermon. I went up to my cabin and looked over my accounts, and find that, all my debts paid and my preparations to sea paid for, I have £40 clear in my purse. After supper to bed.
. This morning Captain Cuttance sent me 12 bottles of Margate ale. Three of them I drank presently with some friends in the Coach. My Lord went this morning about the flagships in a boat, to see what alterations there must be, as to the arms and flags. He did give me order also to write for silk flags and scarlet waistclothes.409 For a rich barge; for a noise of trumpets,410 and a set of fiddlers. Very great deal of company come today, among others Mr. Bellasses,411 Sir Thomas Lenthropp,412 Sir Henry Chichley, Colonel Philip Honiwood,413 and Captain Titus,414 the last of whom my Lord showed all our cabins, and I suppose he is to take notice what room there will be for the King’s entertainment. Here were also all the Jurates of the town of Dover415 come to give my Lord a visit, and after dinner all went away. I could not but observe that the Vice-Admiral after dinner came into the great cabin below, where the Jurates and I and the commanders for want of room dined, and there told us we must drink a health to the King, and himself called for a bottle of wine, and begun his and the Duke of York’s. In the afternoon I lost 5s. at ninepins. After supper music, and to bed. Having also among us at the Coach table wrote a letter to the French ambassador, in French, about the release of a ship we had taken. After I was in bed Mr. Sheply and W. Howe came and sat in my cabin, where I gave them three bottles of Margate ale, and sat laughing and very merry, till almost one o’clock in the morning, and so good night.
. All the morning busy. After dinner come several persons of honour, as my Lord St. John and others, for convoy to Flushing, and great giving of them salutes. My Lord and we at ninepins: I lost 9s. While we were at play Mr. Cook brings me word of my wife. He went to Huntsmore to see her, and brought her and my father Bowyer to London, where he left her at my father’s, very well, and speaks very well of her love to me. My letters today tell me how it was intended that the King should be proclaimed today in London, with a great deal of pomp. I had also news who they are that are chosen of the Lords and Commons to attend the King. And also the whole story of what we did the other day in the fleet, at reading of the King’s declaration, and my name at the bottom of it. After supper some music and to bed. I resolving to rise betimes tomorrow to write letters to London.
. Up very early, writing a letter to the King, as from the two Generals of the fleet, in answer to his letter to them, wherein my Lord do give most humble thanks for his gracious letter and declaration; and promises all duty and obedience to him. This letter was carried this morning to Sir Peter Killigrew,416 who came hither this morning early to bring an order from the Lords’ House to my Lord, giving him power to write an answer to the King. This morning my Lord St. John and other persons of honour were here to see my Lord, and so away to Flushing. After they were gone my Lord and I to write letters to London, which we sent by Mr. Cook, who was very desirous to go because of seeing my wife before she went out of town. As we were sitting down to dinner, in comes Noble with a letter from the House of Lords to my Lord, to desire him to provide ships to transport the Commissioners to the King, which are expected here this week. He brought us certain news that the King was proclaimed yesterday with great pomp, and brought down one of the Proclamations, with great joy to us all; for which God be praised. After dinner to ninepins and lost 5s. This morning came Mr. Saunderson,417 that writ the story of the King, hither, who is going over to the King. He calls me cousin and seems a very knowing man. After supper to bed betimes, leaving my Lord talking in the Coach with the Captain.
. This morning came on board Mr. Pinkney and his son, going to the King with a petition finely writ by Mr. Whore, for to be the King’s embroiderer; for whom and Mr. Saunderson I got a ship. This morning come my Lord Winchelsea418 and a great deal of company, and dined here. In the afternoon, while my Lord and we were at music in the great cabin below, comes in a messenger to tell us that Mr. Edward Montagu,419 my Lord’s son, was come to Deale, who afterwards came on board with Mr. Pickering with him. The child was sick in the evening. At night, while my Lord was at supper, in comes my Lord Lauderdale420 and Sir John Greenville, who supped here, and so went away. After they were gone, my Lord called me into his cabin, and told me how he was commanded to set sail presently for the King,421 and was very glad thereof, and so put me to writing of letters and other work that night till it was very late, he going to bed. I got him afterwards to sign things in bed. After I had done some more work I to bed also.
. Up very early in the morning, and so about a great deal of business in order to our going hence today. Burr going on shore last night made me very angry. So that I sent for Mr. Pitts422 to come to me from the Vice-Admiral’s, intending not to have employed Burr any more. But Burr by and by coming and desiring humbly that I would forgive him and Pitts not coming I did set him to work. This morning we began to pull down all the State’s arms in the fleet, having first sent to Dover for painters and others to come to set up the King’s.423 The rest of the morning writing of letters to London which I afterwards sent by Dunne. I had this morning my first opportunity of discoursing with Dr. Clarke,424 whom I found to be a very pretty man and very knowing. He is now going in this ship to the King. There dined here my Lord Crafford425 and my Lord Cavendish,426 and other Scotchmen whom I afterwards ordered to be received on board the Plymouth, and to go along with us. After dinner we set sail from the Downs, I leaving my boy to go to Deale for my linen. In the afternoon overtook us three or four gentlemen; two of the Berties,427 and one Mr. Dormerhoy,428 a Scotch gentleman, whom I afterwards found to be a very fine man, who, telling my Lord that they heard the Commissioners were come out of London today, my Lord dropped anchor over against Dover Castle (which give us about thirty guns in passing), and upon a high debate with the Vice and Rear Admiral whether it were safe to go and not stay for the Commissioners, he did resolve to send Sir R. Stayner to Dover, to enquire of my Lord Winchelsea, whether or no they are come out of London, and then to resolve tomorrow morning of going or not; which was done. It blew very hard all this night that I was afeard of my boy. About 11 at night came the boats from Deale, with great store of provisions, by the same token John Goods told me that above 20 of the fowls are smothered, but my boy was put on board the Northwich. To bed.
. This morning I inquired for my boy, whether he was come well or no, and it was told me that he was well in bed. My Lord called me to his chamber, he being in bed, and gave me many orders to make for direction for the ships that are left in the Downs, giving them the greatest charge in the world to bring no passengers with them, when they come after us to Scheveling Bay, excepting Mr. Edward Montagu, Mr. Thomas Crew, and Sir H. Wright. Sir R. Stayner hath been here early in the morning and told my Lord, that my Lord Winchelsea understands by letters, that the Commissioners are only to come to Dover to attend the coming over of the King. So my Lord did give order for weighing anchor, which we did, and sailed all day. In our way in the morning, coming in the midway between Dover and Calais, we could see both places very easily, and very pleasant it was to me that the further we went the more we lost sight of both lands. In the afternoon at cards with Mr. North and the Doctor.429 There by us, in the Lark frigate,430 Sir R. Freeman and some others, going from the King to England, come to see my Lord and so onward on their voyage. In the afternoon upon the quarterdeck the Doctor told Mr. North and me an admirable story called The Fruitless Precaution, an exceeding pretty story and worthy my getting without book when I can get the book. This evening came Mr. Sheply on board, whom we had left at Deale and Dover getting of provision and borrowing of money. In the evening late, after discoursing with the Doctor, etc., to bed.
. Trimmed in the morning, after that to the cook’s room with Mr. Sheply, the first time that I was there this voyage. Then to the quarterdeck, upon which the tailors and painters were at work, cutting out some pieces of yellow cloth into the fashion of a crown and C. R. and put it upon a fine sheet, and that into the flag instead of the State’s arms, which after dinner was finished and set up after it had been shown to my Lord, who took physic today and was in his chamber, and liked it so well as to bid me give the tailors 20s. among them for doing of it. This morn Sir J. Boys and Capt. Isham met us in the Nonsuch, the first of whom, after a word or two with my Lord, went forward, the other stayed. I heard by them how Mr. Downing had never made any address to the King, and for that was hated exceedingly by the Court, and that he was in a Dutch ship which sailed by us, then going to England with disgrace. Also how Mr. Morland431 was knighted by the King this week, and that the King did give the reason of it openly, that it was for his giving him intelligence all the time he was clerk to Secretary Thurloe. In the afternoon a council of war, only to acquaint them that the Harp must be taken out of all their flags,432 it being very offensive to the King. Mr. Cook, who came after us in the Yarmouth, bringing me a letter from my wife and a Latin letter from my brother John, with both of which I was exceedingly pleased. No sermon all day, we being under sail, only at night prayers, wherein Mr. Ibbott prayed for all that were related to us in a spiritual and fleshly way. We came within sight of Middle’s shore. Late at night we writ letters to the King of the news of our coming, and Mr. Edward Pickering carried them. Capt. Isham went on shore, nobody showing of him any respect; so the old man very fairly took leave of my Lord, and my Lord very coldly bid him “God be with you,” which was very strange, but that I hear that he keeps a great deal of prating and talking on shore, on board, at the King’s Courts, what command he had with my Lord, etc. After letters were gone then to bed.
. In the morning when I woke and rose, I saw myself out of the scuttle close by the shore, which afterwards I was told to be the Dutch shore; the Hague was clearly to be seen by us. My Lord went up in his nightgown into the cuddy,433 to see how to dispose thereof for himself and us that belong to him, to give order for our removal today. Some nasty Dutchmen came on board to proffer their boats to carry things from us on shore, etc., to get money by us. Before noon some gentlemen came on board from the shore to kiss my Lord’s hands. And by and by Mr. North and Dr. Clerke went to kiss the Queen of Bohemia’s434 hands, from my Lord, with twelve attendants from on board to wait on them, among which I sent my boy, who, like myself, is with child to see any strange thing. After noon they came back again after having kissed the Queen of Bohemia’s hand, and were sent again by my Lord to do the same to the Prince of Orange.435 So I got the Captain to ask leave for me to go, which my Lord did give, and I taking my boy and Judge Advocate436 with me, went in company with them. The weather bad; we were sadly washed when we came near the shore, it being very hard to land there. The shore is, as all the country between that and the Hague, all sand. The rest of the company got a coach by themselves; Mr. Creed and I went in the fore part of a coach wherein were two very pretty ladies, very fashionable and with black patches, who very merrily sang all the way and that very well, and were very free to kiss the two blades that were with them. I took out my flageolet and piped, but in piping I dropped my rapier-stick, but when I came to the Hague, I sent my boy back again for it and he found it, for which I did give him 6d., but some horses had gone over it and broke the scabbard. The Hague is a most neat place in all respects. The houses so neat in all places and things as is possible. Here we walked up and down a great while, the town being now very full of Englishmen, for that the Londoners were come on shore today. But going to see the Prince437 he was gone forth with his governor, and so we walked up and down the town and court to see the place; and by the help of a stranger, an Englishman, we saw a great many places, and were made to understand many things, as the intention of maypoles, which we saw there standing at every great man’s door, of different greatness according to the quality of the person. About 10 at night the Prince comes home, and we found an easy admission. His attendance very inconsiderable as for a prince; but yet handsome, and his tutor a fine man, and himself a very pretty boy. It was bright moonshine tonight. This done we went to a place we had taken to sup in, where a sallet and two or three bones of mutton were provided for a matter of ten of us which was very strange. After supper the Judge and I to another house, leaving them there, and he and I lay in one press bed, there being two more in the same room, but all very neat and handsome, my boy sleeping upon a bench by me.
. We lay till past three o’clock, then up and down the town, to see it by daylight, where we saw the soldiers of the Prince’s guard, all very fine, and the burghers of the town with their arms and muskets as bright as silver. And meeting this morning a schoolmaster that spoke good English and French, he went along with us and showed us the whole town, and indeed I cannot speak enough of the gallantry of the town. Everybody of fashion speaks French or Latin, or both. The women many of them very pretty and in good habits, fashionable and black spots. He went with me to buy a couple of baskets, one of them for Mrs. Pierce, the other for my wife. After he was gone, we having first drank with him at our lodging, the judge and I to the Grande Salle where we were showed the place where the States General sit in council. The hall is a great place, where the flags that they take from their enemies are all hung up; and things to be sold, as in Westminster Hall, and not much unlike it, but that not so big, but much neater. After that to a bookseller’s and bought for the love of the binding three books: the French Psalms in four parts, Bacon’s Organon, and Farnab. Rhetor.438 After that the judge, I and my boy by coach to Scheveling again, where we went into a house of entertainment and drank there, the wind being very high, and we saw two boats overset and the gallants forced to be pulled on shore by the heels, while their trunks, portmanteaus, hats, and feathers, were swimming in the sea. Among others I saw the ministers that come along with the Commissioners (Mr. Case among the rest) sadly dipped.439 So they came in where we were, and I being in haste left my Copenhagen knife, and so lost it. Having stayed here a great while a gentleman that was going to kiss my Lord’s hand, from the Queen of Bohemia, and I hired a Dutch boat for four rixdollars to carry us on board. We were fain to wait a great while before we could get off from the shore, the sea being very rough. The Dutchman would fain have made all pay that came into our boat besides us two and our company, there being many of our ship’s company got in who were on shore, but some of them had no money, having spent all on shore. Coming on board we found all the Commissioners of the House of Lords at dinner with my Lord, who after dinner went away for shore. Mr. Morland, now Sir Samuel, was here on board, but I do not find that my Lord or anybody did give him any respect, he being looked upon by him and all men as a knave. Among others he betrayed Sir Rich. Willis440 that married Dr. F. Jones’s daughter, that he had paid him £1,000 at one time by the Protector’s and Secretary Thurloe’s order, for intelligence that he sent concerning the King. In the afternoon my Lord called me on purpose to show me his fine clothes which are now come hither, and indeed are very rich as gold and silver can make them, only his sword he and I do not like. In the afternoon my Lord and I walked together in the coach two hours, talking together upon all sorts of discourse: as religion, wherein he is, I perceive, wholly sceptical, as well as I, saying, that indeed the Protestants as to the Church of Rome are wholly fanatics: he likes uniformity and form of prayer; about State-business, among other things he told me that his conversion to the King’s cause (for so I was saying that I wondered from what time the King could look upon him to become his friend), commenced from his being in the Sound, when he found what usage he was likely to have from a Commonwealth. My Lord, the Captain, and I supped in my Lord’s chamber, where I did perceive that he did begin to show me much more respect than ever he did yet. After supper, my Lord sent for me, intending to have me play at cards with him, but I not knowing cribbage, we fell into discourse of many things, till it was so rough sea and the ship rolled so much that I was not able to stand, and so he bid me go to bed.
. Soon as I was up I went down to be trimmed below in the great cabin, but then come in some with visits, among the rest one from Admiral Opdam,441 who spoke Latin well, but not French nor English, to whom my Lord made me to give his answer and to entertain; he brought my Lord a tierce of wine and a barrel of butter, as a present from the Admiral. After that to finish my trimming, and while I was doing of it in comes Mr. North very seasick from shore, and to bed he goes. After that to dinner, where Commissioner Pett442 was come to take care to get all things ready for the King on board. My Lord in his best suit, this the first day, in expectation to wait upon the King. But Mr. Edw. Pickering coming from the King brought word that the King would not put my Lord to the trouble of coming to him; but that he would come to the shore to look upon the fleet today, which we expected, and had our guns ready to fire, and our scarlet waistclothes out and silk pendants, but he did not come. My Lord and we at ninepins this afternoon upon the Quarterdeck, which was very pretty sport. This evening came Mr. John Pickering443 on board, like an ass, with his feathers and new suit that he had made at the Hague. My Lord very angry for his staying on shore, bidding me a little before to send to him, telling me that he was afraid that for his father’s sake he might have some mischief done him, unless he used the General’s name. To supper, and after supper to cards. I stood by and looked on till 11 at night and so to bed. This afternoon Mr. Edwd. Pickering told me in what a sad, poor condition for clothes and money the King was, and all his attendants, when he came to him first from my Lord, their clothes not being worth forty shillings the best of them.444 And how overjoyed the King was when Sir J. Greenville brought him some money; so joyful, that he called the Princess Royal445 and Duke of York to look upon it as it lay in the portmanteau before it was taken out. My Lord told me, too, that the Duke of York is made High Admiral of England.446
. Up early to write down my last two days’ observations. Dr. Clerke came to me to tell me that he heard this morning, by some Dutch that are come on board already to see the ship, that there was a Portuguese taken yesterday at the Hague, that had a design to kill the King. But this I heard afterwards was only the mistake upon one being observed to walk with his sword naked, he having lost his scabbard. Before dinner Mr. Edw. Pickering and I, W. Howe, Pim, and my boy447 to Scheveling, where we took coach, and so to the Hague, where walking, intending to find one that might show us the King incognito, I met with Captain Whittington (that had formerly brought a letter to my Lord from the Mayor of London) and he did promise me to do it, but first we went and dined at a French house, but paid 16s. for our part of the club. At dinner in came Dr. Cade, a merry mad parson of the King’s. And they two after dinner got the child and me (the others not being able to crowd in) to see the King, who kissed the child very affectionately. Then we kissed his, and the Duke of York’s, and the Princess Royal’s hands. The King seems to be a very sober man; and a very splendid Court he hath in the number of persons of quality that are about him, English very rich in habit. From the King to the Lord Chancellor,448 who did lie bed-rid of the gout: he spoke very merrily to the child and me. After that, going to see the Queen of Bohemia, I met with Dr. Fuller,449 whom I sent to a tavern with Mr. Edw. Pickering, while I and the rest went to see the Queen450 who used us very respectfully; her hand we all kissed. She seems a very debonaire, but plain lady. After that to the Dr.’s, where we drank a while or so. In a coach of a friend’s of Dr. Cade we went to see a house of the Princess Dowager’s in a park about half-a-mile or a mile from the Hague, where there is one, the most beautiful room for pictures in the whole world.451 She had here one picture upon the top, with these words, dedicating it to the memory of her husband:—“Incomparabili marito, inconsolabilis vidua.”452 Here I met with Mr. Woodcock of Cambridge, Mr. Hardy and another, and Mr. Woodcock beginning we had two or three fine songs, he and I, and W. Howe to the Echo, which was very pleasant, and the more because in a heaven of pleasure and in a strange country, that I never was taken up more with a sense of pleasure in my life. After that we parted and back to the Hague and took a tour or two about the Forehault453 where the ladies in the evening do as our ladies do in Hide Park. But for my life I could not find one handsome, but their coaches very rich and themselves so too. From thence, taking leave of the Doctor, we took wagon to Scheveling, where we had a fray with the Boatswain of the Richmond, who would not freely carry us on board, but at last he was willing to it, but then it was so late we durst not go. So we returned between 10 and 11 at night in the dark with a wagon with one horse to the Hague, where being come we went to bed as well as we could be accommodated, and so to sleep.
. Very early up, and, hearing that the Duke of York, our Lord High Admiral, would go on board today, Mr. Pickering and I took wagon for Scheveling, leaving the child in Mr. Pierce’s hands, with directions to keep him within doors all day till he heard from me. But the wind being very high that no boats could get off from shore, we returned to the Hague (having breakfasted with a gentleman of the Duke’s, and Commissioner Pett, sent on purpose to give notice to my Lord of his coming), where I hear that the child is gone to Delfe454 to see the town. So we all and Mr. Ibbott, the Minister, took a schuit455 and very much pleased with the manner and conversation of the passengers, where most speak French; went after them, but met them by the way. But however we went forward making no stop. Where when we were come we got a smith’s boy of the town to go along with us, but could speak nothing but Dutch, and he showed us the church where Van Trump lies entombed with a very fine monument. His epitaph concluded thus:—“Tandem Bello Anglico tantum non victor, certe invictus, vivere et vincere desiit.” There is a sea-fight cut in marble, with the smoke, the best expressed that ever I saw in my life.456 From thence to the great church, that stands in a fine great marketplace, over against the Stadt-house, and there I saw a stately tomb of the old Prince of Orange,457 of marble and brass; wherein among other rarities there are the angels with their trumpets expressed as it were crying. Here were very fine organs in both the churches. It is a most sweet town, with bridges, and a river in every street. Observing that in every house of entertainment there hangs in every room a poor-man’s box, and desiring to know the reason thereof, it was told me that it is their custom to confirm all bargains by putting something into the poor people’s box, and that binds as fast as anything. We also saw the Guesthouse, where it was very pleasant to see what neat preparation there is for the poor. We saw one poor man a-dying there. After we had seen all, we light by chance of an English house to drink in, where we were very merry, discoursing of the town and the thing that hangs up in the Stadthouse458 like a bushel, which I was told is a sort of punishment for some sort of offenders to carry through the streets of the town over his head, which is a great weight. Back by water, where a pretty sober Dutch lass sat reading all the way, and I could not fasten any discourse upon her. At our landing we met with Commissioner Pett going down to the waterside with Major Harly,459 who is going upon a dispatch into England. They having a coach I left the Parson460 and my boy and went along with Commissioner Pett, Mr. Ackworth461 and Mr. Dawes his friends, to the Princess Dowager’s house again. Thither also my Lord Fairfax and some other English Lords did come to see it, and my pleasure was increased by seeing of it again. Besides we went into the garden, wherein are gallant nuts better than ever I saw, and a fine Echo under the house in a vault made on purpose with pillars, where I played on my flageolet to great advantage. Back to the Hague, where not finding Mr. Edward, I was much troubled, but went with the Parson to supper to Commissioner Pett, where we sat late. And among other mirth Mr. Ackworth vied wives, each endeavouring to set his own wife out to the best advantage, he having as they said an extraordinary handsome wife. But Mr. Dawes could not be got to say anything of his. After that to our lodging where W. Howe and I exceeding troubled not to know what is become of our young gentleman. So to bed.
. Up early, hearing nothing of the child, and went to Scheveling, where I found no getting on board, though the Duke of York sent every day to see whether he could do it or no. Here I met with Mr. Pinkney and his sons, and with them went back to the Hague, in our way ’lighting and going to see a woman that makes pretty rock-work in shells, etc., which could I have carried safe I would have bought some of. At the Hague we went to buy some pictures, where I saw a sort of painting done upon woollen cloth, drawn as if there was a curtain over it, which was very pleasant, but dear. Another pretty piece of painting I saw, on which there was a great wager laid by young Pinkney and me whether it was a principal or a copy. But not knowing how to decide, it was broken off, and I got the old man to lay out as much as my piece of gold come to, and so saved my money, which had been 24s. lost, I fear. While we were here buying of pictures, we saw Mr. Edward and his company land. Who told me that they had been at Leyden all night, at which I was very angry with Mr. Pierce, and shall not be friends I believe a good while. To our lodging to dinner. After that out to buy some linen to wear against tomorrow, and so to the barber’s. After that by wagon to Lausdune, where the 365 children were born. We saw the hill where they say the house stood and sunk wherein the children were born. The basins wherein the male and female children were baptized do stand over a large table that hangs upon a wall, with the whole story of the thing in Dutch and Latin, beginning, “Margarita Herman Comitissa,” etc. The thing was done about 200 years ago.
The town is a little small village which answers much to one of our small villages, such a one as Chesterton in all respects, and one could have thought it in England but for the language of the people. We went into a little drinking house where there were a great many Dutch boors eating of fish in a boorish manner, but very merry in their way. But the houses here as neat as in the great places. From thence to the Hague again playing at crambo462 in the wagon, Mr. Edward, Mr. Ibbott, W. Howe, Mr. Pinkney, and I. When we were come thither W. Howe, and Mr. Ibbott, and Mr. Pinckney went away for Scheveling, while I and the child to walk up and down the town, where I met my old chamber-fellow, Mr. Ch. Anderson, and a friend of his (both Physicians), Mr. Wright, who took me to a Dutch house, where there was an exceeding pretty lass, and right for the sport, but it being Saturday we could not have much of her company, but however I stayed with them (having left the child with my uncle Pickering,463 whom I met in the street) till 12 at night. By that time Charles was almost drunk, and then broke up, he resolving to go thither again, after he had seen me at my lodging, and lie with the girl, which he told me he had done in the morning. Going to my lodging we met with the bellman, who struck upon a clapper, which I took in my hand, and it is just like the clapper that our boys frighten the birds away from the corn with in summer time in England. To bed.
. Up early, and with Mr. Pickering and the child by wagon to Scheveling, where it not being yet fit to go off, I went to lie down in a chamber in the house, where in another bed there was a pretty Dutch woman in bed alone, but though I had a month’s-mind464 I had not the boldness to go to her. So there I slept an hour or two. At last she rose, and then I rose and walked up and down the chamber, and saw her dress herself after the Dutch dress, and talked to her as much as I could, and took occasion, from her ring which she wore on her first finger, to kiss her hand, but had not the face to offer anything more. So at last I left her there and went to my company. About 8 o’clock I went into the church at Scheveling, which was pretty handsome, and in the chancel a very great upper part of the mouth of a whale, which indeed was of a prodigious bigness, bigger than one of our long boats that belong to one of our ships. Commissioner Pett at last came to our lodging, and caused the boats to go off; so some in one boat and some in another we all bid adieu to the shore. But through badness of weather we were in great danger, and a great while before we could get to the ship, so that of all the company not one but myself that was not sick. I keeping myself in the open air, though I was soundly wet for it. This hath not been known four days together such weather at this time of year, a great while. Indeed our fleet was thought to be in great danger, but we found all well, and Mr. Thos. Crew came on board. I having spoke a word or two with my Lord, being not very well settled, partly through last night’s drinking and want of sleep, I lay down in my gown upon my bed and slept till the 4 o’clock gun the next morning waked me, which I took for 8 at night, and rising … mistook the sun rising for the sun setting on Sunday night.
. So into my naked bed465 and slept till 9 o’clock, and then John Goods waked me, [by] and by the captain’s boy brought me four barrels of Mallows oysters, which Captain Tatnell had sent me from Murlace.466 The weather foul all this day also. After dinner, about writing one thing or other all day, and setting my papers in order, having been so long absent. At night Mr. Pierce, Purser (the other Pierce and I having not spoken to one another since we fell out about Mr. Edward), and Mr. Cook sat with me in my cabin and supped with me, and then I went to bed. By letters that came hither in my absence, I understand that the Parliament had ordered all persons to be secured, in order to a trial, that did sit as judges in the late King’s death, and all the officers too attending the Court. Sir John Lenthall467 moving in the House, that all that had borne arms against the King should be exempted from pardon, he was called to the bar of the House, and after a severe reproof he was degraded his knighthood. At Court I find that all things grow high. The old clergy talk as being sure of their lands again, and laugh at the Presbytery; and it is believed that the sales of the King’s and Bishops’ lands will never be confirmed by Parliament, there being nothing now in any man’s power to hinder them and the King from doing what they have a mind, but everybody willing to submit to anything. We expect every day to have the King and Duke on board as soon as it is fair. My Lord do nothing now, but offers all things to the pleasure of the Duke as Lord High Admiral. So that I am at a loss what to do.
. Up very early, and now beginning to be settled in my wits again, I went about setting down my last four days’ observations this morning. After that, was trimmed by a barber that has not trimmed me yet, my Spaniard being on shore. News brought that the two Dukes are coming on board, which, by and by, they did, in a Dutch boat, the Duke of York in yellow trimmings, the Duke of Gloucester468 in grey and red. My Lord went in a boat to meet them, the Captain, myself, and others, standing at the entering port. So soon as they were entered we shot the guns off round the fleet. After that they went to view the ship all over, and were most exceedingly pleased with it. They seem to be both very fine gentlemen. After that done, upon the quarterdeck table, under the awning, the Duke of York and my Lord, Mr. Coventry,469 and I, spent an hour at allotting to every ship their service, in their return to England; which having done, they went to dinner, where the table was very full: the two Dukes at the upper end, my Lord Opdam next on one side, and my Lord on the other. Two guns given to every man while he was drinking the King’s health, and so likewise to the Duke’s health. I took down Monsieur d’Esquier to the great cabin below, and dined with him in state alone with only one or two friends of his. All dinner the harper belonging to Captain Sparling played to the Dukes. After dinner, the Dukes and my Lord to see the Vice and Rear-Admirals; and I in a boat after them. After that done, they made to the shore in the Dutch boat that brought them, and I got into the boat with them; but the shore was so full of people to expect their coming, as that it was as black (which otherwise is white sand), as everyone could stand by another. When we came near the shore, my Lord left them and came into his own boat, and General Penn470 and I with him; my Lord being very well pleased with this day’s work. By the time we came on board again, news is sent us that the King is on shore; so my Lord fired all his guns round twice, and all the fleet after him, which in the end fell into disorder, which seemed very handsome. The gun over against my cabin I fired myself to the King, which was the first time that he had been saluted by his own ships since this change; but holding my head too much over the gun, I had almost spoiled my right eye. Nothing in the world but going of guns almost all this day. In the evening we began to remove cabins; I to the carpenter’s cabin, and Dr. Clerke with me, who came on board this afternoon, having been twice ducked in the sea today coming from shore, and Mr. North and John Pickering the like. Many of the King’s servants came on board tonight; and so many Dutch of all sorts came to see the ship till it was quite dark, that we could not pass by one another, which was a great trouble to us all. This afternoon Mr. Downing (who was knighted yesterday by the King)471 was here on board, and had a ship for his passage into England, with his lady and servants. By the same token he called me to him when I was going to write the order, to tell me that I must write him Sir G. Downing. My Lord lay in the roundhouse tonight. This evening I was late writing a French letter myself by my Lord’s order to Monsieur Kragh,472Embassador de Denmarke à la Haye, which my Lord signed in bed. After that I to bed, and the Doctor, and sleep well.
. The Doctor and I waked very merry, only my eye was very red and ill in the morning from yesterday’s hurt. In the morning came infinity of people on board from the King to go along with him. My Lord, Mr. Crew, and others, go on shore to meet the King as he comes off from shore, where Sir R. Stayner bringing His Majesty into the boat, I hear that His Majesty did with a great deal of affection kiss my Lord upon his first meeting. The King, with the two Dukes and Queen of Bohemia, Princess Royal, and Prince of Orange, came on board, where I in their coming in kissed the King’s, Queen’s, and Princess’s hands, having done the other before. Infinite shooting off of the guns, and that in a disorder on purpose, which was better than if it had been otherwise. All day nothing but Lords and persons of honour on board, that we were exceeding full. Dined in a great deal of state, the Royal company by themselves in the coach, which was a blessed sight to see. I dined with Dr. Clerke, Dr. Quarterman,473 and Mr. Darcy474 in my cabin. This morning Mr. Lucy came on board, to whom and his company of the King’s Guard in another ship my Lord did give three dozen of bottles of wine. He made friends between Mr. Pierce and me. After dinner the King and Duke altered the name of some of the ships, viz. the Nazeby into Charles;475 the Richard, James;476 the Speaker, Mary;477 the Dunbar (which was not in company with us), the Henry;478Winsly, Happy Return;479Wakefield, Richmond;480Lambert, the Henrietta;481Cheriton, the Speedwell;482Bradford, the Success.483 That done, the Queen, Princess Royal, and Prince of Orange, took leave of the King, and the Duke of York went on board the London, and the Duke of Gloucester, the Swiftsure. Which done, we weighed anchor, and with a fresh gale and most happy weather we set sail for England. All the afternoon the King walked here and there, up and down (quite contrary to what I thought him to have been), very active and stirring. Upon the quarterdeck he fell into discourse of his escape from Worcester,484 where it made me ready to weep to hear the stories that he told of his difficulties that he had passed through, as his travelling four days and three nights on foot, every step up to his knees in dirt, with nothing but a green coat and a pair of country breeches on, and a pair of country shoes that made him so sore all over his feet, that he could scarce stir. Yet he was forced to run away from a miller and other company, that took them for rogues. His sitting at table at one place, where the master of the house, that had not seen him in eight years, did know him, but kept it private; when at the same table there was one that had been of his own regiment at Worcester, could not know him, but made him drink the King’s health, and said that the King was at least four fingers higher than he. At another place he was by some servants of the house made to drink, that they might know him not to be a Roundhead, which they swore he was. In another place at his inn, the master of the house,485 as the King was standing with his hands upon the back of a chair by the fireside, kneeled down and kissed his hand, privately, saying, that he would not ask him who he was, but bid God bless him whither he was going. Then the difficulty of getting a boat to get into France, where he was fain to plot with the master thereof to keep his design from the four men and a boy (which was all his ship’s company), and so got to Fecamp in France.486 At Rouen he looked so poorly, that the people went into the rooms before he went away to see whether he had not stole something or other. In the evening I went up to my Lord to write letters for England, which we sent away with word of our coming, by Mr. Edw. Pickering. The King supped alone in the coach; after that I got a dish, and we four supped in my cabin, as at noon. About bedtime my Lord Bartlett487 (who I had offered my service to before) sent for me to get him a bed, who with much ado I did get to bed to my Lord Middlesex488 in the great cabin below, but I was cruelly troubled before I could dispose of him, and quit myself of him. So to my cabin again, where the company still was, and were talking more of the King’s difficulties; as how he was fain to eat a piece of bread and cheese out of a poor boy’s pocket; how, at a Catholic house, he was fain to lie in the priest’s hole a good while in the house for his privacy. After that our company broke up, and the Doctor and I to bed. We have all the Lords Commissioners on board us, and many others. Under sail all night, and most glorious weather.
. Up, and made myself as fine as I could, with the linning stockings on and wide canons489 that I bought the other day at Hague. Extraordinary press of noble company, and great mirth all the day. There dined with me in my cabin (that is, the carpenter’s) Dr. Earle490 and Mr. Hollis,491 the King’s Chaplains, Dr. Scarborough,492 Dr. Quarterman, and Dr. Clerke, Physicians, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Fox493 (both very fine gentlemen), the King’s servants, where we had brave discourse. Walking upon the decks, where persons of honour all the afternoon, among others, Thomas Killigrew494 (a merry droll, but a gentleman of great esteem with the King), who told us many merry stories: one, how he wrote a letter three or four days ago to the Princess Royal, about a Queen Dowager of Judaea and Palestine, that was at the Hague incognita, that made love to the King, etc., which was Mr. Cary (a courtier’s) wife that had been a nun, who are all married to Jesus. At supper the three Drs. of Physic again at my cabin; where I put Dr. Scarborough in mind of what I heard him say about the use of the eyes, which he owned, that children do, in every day’s experience, look several ways with both their eyes, till custom teaches them otherwise. And that we do now see but with one eye, our eyes looking in parallel lines. After this discourse I was called to write a pass for my Lord Mandeville to take up horses to London, which I wrote in the King’s name495 and carried it to him to sign, which was the first and only one that ever he signed in the ship Charles.496 To bed, coming in sight of land a little before night.
. By the morning we were come close to the land, and everybody made ready to get on shore. The King and the two Dukes did eat their breakfast before they went, and there being set some ship’s diet before them, only to show them the manner of the ship’s diet, they eat of nothing else but peas and pork, and boiled beef. I had Mr. Darcy in my cabin and Dr. Clerke, who eat with me, told me how the King had given £50 to Mr. Sheply for my Lord’s servants, and £500 among the officers and common men of the ship. I spoke with the Duke of York about business, who called me Pepys by name, and upon my desire did promise me his future favour. Great expectation of the King’s making some Knights, but there was none. About noon (though the brigantine that Beale made was there ready to carry him) yet he would go in my Lord’s barge with the two Dukes. Our Captain steered, and my Lord went along bare with him. I went, and Mr. Mansell, and one of the King’s footmen, with a dog that the King loved,497 (which [dirted] the boat, which made us laugh, and me think that a King and all that belong to him are but just as others are), in a boat by ourselves, and so got on shore when the King did, who was received by General Monk with all imaginable love and respect at his entrance upon the land of Dover. Infinite the crowd of people and the horsemen, citizens, and noblemen of all sorts. The Mayor of the town came and gave him his white staff, the badge of his place, which the King did give him again. The Mayor also presented him from the town a very rich Bible, which he took and said it was the thing that he loved above all things in the world. A canopy was provided for him to stand under, which he did, and talked awhile with General Monk and others, and so into a stately coach there set for him, and so away through the town towards Canterbury, without making any stay at Dover. The shouting and joy expressed by all is past imagination. Seeing that my Lord did not stir out of his barge, I got into a boat, and so into his barge, whither Mr. John Crew stepped, and spoke a word or two to my Lord, and so returned, we back to the ship, and going did see a man almost drowned that fell out of his boat into the sea, but with much ado was got out. My Lord almost transported with joy that he had done all this without any the least blur or obstruction in the world, that could give an offence to any, and with the great honour he thought it would be to him. Being overtook by the brigantine, my Lord and we went out of our barge into it, and so went on board with Sir W. Batten,498 and the Vice and Rear-Admirals. At night my Lord supped and Mr. Thomas Crew with Captain Stoakes, I supped with the Captain, who told me what the King had given us. My Lord returned late, and at his coming did give me order to cause the mark to be gilded, and a Crown and C. R. to be made at the head of the coach table, where the King today with his own hand did mark his height, which accordingly I caused the painter to do, and is now done as is to be seen.
. Thanks to God I got to bed in my own poor cabin, and slept well till 9 o’clock this morning. Mr. North and Dr. Clerke and all the great company being gone, I found myself very uncouth all this day for want thereof. My Lord dined with the Vice-Admiral today (who is as officious, poor man! as any spaniel can be; but I believe all to no purpose, for I believe he will not hold his place), so I dined commander at the coach table today, and all the officers of the ship with me, and Mr. White of Dover. After a game or two at ninepins, to work all the afternoon, making above twenty orders. In the evening my Lord having been ashore, the first time that he hath been ashore since he came out of the Hope (having resolved not to go till he had brought his Majesty into England), returned on board with a great deal of pleasure. I supped with the Captain in his cabin with young Captain Cuttance, and afterwards a messenger from the King came with a letter, and to go into France, and by that means we supped again with him at 12 o’clock at night. This night the Captain told me that my Lord had appointed me £30 out of the 1,000 ducats which the King had given to the ship, at which my heart was very much joyed. To bed.
. Called up by John Goods to see the Garter and Heralds coat, which lay in the coach, brought by Sir Edward Walker,499 King at Arms, this morning, for my Lord. My Lord hath summoned all the Commanders on board him, to see the ceremony, which was thus: Sir Edward putting on his coat, and having laid the George and Garter, and the King’s letter to my Lord, upon a crimson cushion (in the coach, all the Commanders standing by), makes three congees to him, holding the cushion in his arms. Then laying it down with the things upon it upon a chair, he takes the letter, and delivers it to my Lord, which my Lord breaks open and gives him to read. It was directed to our trusty and well beloved Sir Edward Montagu, Knight, one of our Generals at sea, and our Companion elect of our Noble Order of the Garter. The contents of the letter is to show that the Kings of England have for many years made use of this honour, as a special mark of favour, to persons of good extraction and virtue (and that many Emperors, Kings and Princes of other countries have borne this honour), and that whereas my Lord is of a noble family, and hath now done the King such service by sea, at this time, as he hath done; he do send him this George and Garter to wear as Knight of the Order, with a dispensation for the other ceremonies of the habit of the Order, and other things, till hereafter, when it can be done. So the herald putting the ribbon about his neck, and the Garter about his left leg, he salutes him with joy as Knight of the Garter, and that was all. After that was done, and the Captain and I had breakfasted with Sir Edward while my Lord was writing of a letter, he took his leave of my Lord, and so to shore again to the King at Canterbury, where he yesterday gave the like honour to General Monk,500 who are the only two for many years that have had the Garter given them, before they had other honours of Earldom, or the like, excepting only the Duke of Buckingham, who was only Sir George Villiers when he was made Knight of the Garter.501 A while after Mr. Thos. Crew and Mr. J. Pickering (who had stayed long enough to make all the world see him to be a fool), took ship for London. So there now remain no strangers with my Lord but Mr. Hetley,502 who had been with us a day before the King went from us. My Lord and the ship’s company down to sermon. I stayed above to write and look over my new song book, which came last night to me from London in lieu of that that my Lord had of me. The officers being all on board, there was not room for me at table, so I dined in my cabin, where, among other things, Mr. Drum brought me a lobster and a bottle of oil, instead of a bottle of vinegar, whereby I spoiled my dinner. Many orders in the ordering of ships this afternoon. Late to a sermon. After that up to the Lieutenant’s cabin, where Mr. Sheply, I, and the Minister supped, and after that I went down to W. Howe’s cabin, and there, with a great deal of pleasure, singing till it was late. After that to bed.
. Called up at two in the morning for letters for my Lord from the Duke of York, but I went to bed again till 5. Trimmed early this morning. This morning the Captain did call over all the men in the ship (not the boys), and give every one of them a ducat503 of the King’s money that he gave the ship, and the officers according to their quality. I received in the Captain’s cabin, for my share, sixty ducats. The rest of the morning busy writing letters. So was my Lord that he would not come to dinner. After dinner to write again in order to sending to London, but my Lord did not finish his, so we did not send to London today. A great part of the afternoon at ninepins with my Lord and Mr. Hetley. I lost about 4s. Supped with my Lord, and after that to bed. At night I had a strange dream of ⸻ myself, which I really did, and having kicked my clothes off, I got cold; and found myself all much wet in the morning, and had a great deal of pain … which made me very melancholy.
. The King’s birthday. Busy all the morning writing letters to London, among the rest one to Mr. Chetwind to give me an account of the fees due to the Herald for the Order of the Garter, which my Lord desires to know. After dinner got all ready and sent away Mr. Cook to London with a letter and token to my wife. After that abroad to shore with my Lord (which he offered me of himself, saying that I had a great deal of work to do this month, which was very true). On shore we took horses, my Lord and Mr. Edward, Mr. Hetly and I, and three or four servants, and had a great deal of pleasure in riding. Among other things my Lord showed me a house that cost a great deal of money, and is built in so barren and inconvenient a place that my Lord calls it the fool’s house. At last we came upon a very high cliff by the seaside, and rode under it, we having laid great wagers, I and Dr. Mathews, that it was not so high as Paul’s; my Lord and Mr. Hetly, that it was. But we riding under it, my Lord made a pretty good measure of it with two sticks, and found it to be not above thirty-five yards high, and Paul’s is reckoned to be about ninety.504 From thence toward the barge again, and in our way found the people at Deale going to make a bonfire for joy of the day, it being the King’s birthday, and had some guns which they did fire at my Lord’s coming by. For which I did give twenty shillings among them to drink. While we were on the top of the cliff, we saw and heard our guns in the fleet go off for the same joy. And it being a pretty fair day we could see above twenty miles into France. Being returned on board, my Lord called for Mr. Sheply’s book of Paul’s,505 by which we were confirmed in our wager. After that to supper and then to music, and so to bed. The pain that I have got last night by cold is not yet gone, but troubles me at the time of. … This day, it is thought, the King do enter the city of London.506
. About eight o’clock in the morning the lieutenant came to me to know whether I would eat a dish of mackerel, newly catched, for my breakfast, which the Captain and we did in the coach. All yesterday and today I had a great deal of pain … and in my back, which made me afeard. But it proved nothing but cold, which I took yesterday night. All this morning making up my accounts, in which I counted that I had made myself now worth about £80, at which my heart was glad, and blessed God. Many Dover men come and dine with my Lord. My Lord at ninepins in the afternoon. In the afternoon Mr. Sheply told me how my Lord had put me down for 70 guilders among the money which was given to my Lord’s servants, which my heart did much rejoice at. My Lord supped alone in his chamber. Sir R. Stayner supped with us, and among other things told us how some of his men did grumble that no more of the Duke’s money come to their share and so would not receive any; whereupon he called up those that had taken it, and gives them three shares apiece more, which was very good, and made good sport among the seamen. To bed.
. This day my Lord took physic, and came not out of his chamber. All the morning making orders. After dinner a great while below in the great cabin trying with W. Howe some of Mr. Laws’ songs,507 particularly that of “What Is a Kiss,” with which we had a great deal of pleasure. After that to making of orders again. Captain Sparling of the Assistance brought me a pair of silk stockings of a light blue, which I was much pleased with. The Captain and I to supper, and after that a most pleasant walk till 10 at night with him upon the deck, it being a fine evening. My pain was gone again that I had yesterday, blessed be God. This day the month ends, I in very good health, and all the world in a merry mood because of the King’s coming. This day I began to teach Mr. Edward,508 who I find to have a very good foundation laid for his Latin by Mr. Fuller. I expect every minute to hear how my poor wife do. I find myself in all things well as to body and mind, but troubled for the absence of my wife.
June 1660
. This morning Mr. Sheply disposed of the money that the Duke of York did give my Lord’s servants, 22 ducatoons509 came to my share, whereof he told me to give Jaspar something because my Lord left him out. I did give Mr. Sheply the fine pair of buckskin gloves that I bought myself about five years ago. My Lord took physic today, and so come not out all day. The Captain on shore all day. After dinner Captain Jefferys and W. Howe, and the Lieutenant and I to ninepins, where I lost about two shillings and so fooled away all the afternoon. At night Mr. Cooke comes from London with letters, leaving all things there very gallant and joyful. And brought us word that the Parliament had ordered the 29th of May, the King’s birthday,510 to be forever kept as a day of thanksgiving for our redemption from tyranny, and the King’s return to his Government, he entering London that day. My wife was in London when he came thither, and had been there a week with Mr. Bowyer and his wife. My poor wife has not been well a week before, but thanks be to God is well again. She would fain see me and be at her house again, but we must be content. She writes word how the Joyces grow very rich and very proud, but it is no matter, and that there was a talk that I should be knighted by the King, which they (the Joyces) laugh at; but I think myself happier in my wife and estate than they are in theirs. To bed. The Captain come on board, when I was going to bed, quite fuddled; and himself the next morning told me so too, that the Vice-Admiral, Rear-Admiral, and he had been drinking all day.
. Being with my Lord in the morning about business in his cabin, I took occasion to give him thanks for his love to me in the share that he had given me of his Majesty’s money, and the Duke’s. He told the he hoped to do me a more lasting kindness, if all things stand as they are now between him and the King, but, says he, “We must have a little patience and we will rise together; in the meantime I will do you all the good jobs I can.” Which was great content for me to hear from my Lord. All the morning with the Captain, computing how much the thirty ships that come with the King from Scheveling their pay comes to for a month (because the King promised to give them all a month’s pay), and it comes to £6,538, and the Charles particularly £777. I wish we had the money. All the afternoon with two or three captains in the Captain’s cabin, drinking of white wine and sugar, and eating pickled oysters, where Captain Sparling told us the best story that ever I heard, about a gentleman that persuaded a country fool to let him gut his oysters or else they would stink. At night writing letters to London and Weymouth, for my Lord being now to sit in the House of Peers he endeavours to get Mr. Edward Montagu for Weymouth and Mr. George for Dover.511 Mr. Cooke late with me in my cabin while I wrote to my wife, and drank a bottle of wine and so took leave of me on his journey and I to bed.
. Waked in the morning by one who when I asked who it was, he told me one from Bridewell, which proved Captain Holland. I rose presently to him. He is come to get an order for the setting out of his ship, and to renew his commission. He tells me how every man goes to the Lord Mayor to set down their names, as such as do accept of his Majesty’s pardon, and showed me a certificate under the Lord Mayor’s hand that he had done so. At sermon in the morning; after dinner into my cabin, to cast my accounts up, and find myself to be worth near £100, for which I bless Almighty God, it being more than I hoped for so soon, being I believe not clearly worth £25 when I came to sea besides my house and goods. Then to set my papers in order, they being increased much upon my hands through want of time to put them in order. The ship’s company all this while at sermon. After sermon my Lord did give me instruction to write to London about business, which done, after supper to bed.
. Waked in the morning at four o’clock to give some money to Mr. Hetly, who was to go to London with the letters that I wrote yesterday night. After he was gone I went and lay down in my gown upon my bed again an hour or two. At last waked by a messenger come for a Post Warrant for Mr. Hetly and Mr. Creed, who stood to give so little for their horses that the men would not let them have any without a warrant, which I sent them. All the morning getting Captain Holland’s commission done, which I did, and he at noon went away. I took my leave of him upon the quarterdeck with a bottle of sack, my Lord being just set down to dinner. Then he being gone I went to dinner and after dinner to my cabin to write. This afternoon I showed my Lord my accounts, which he passed, and so I think myself to be worth near £100 now. In the evening I made an order for Captain Sparling of the Assistance to go to Middleburgh, to fetch over some of the King’s goods. I took the opportunity to send all my Dutch money, 70 ducatoons and 29 gold ducats to be changed, if he can, for English money, which is the first venture that ever I made, and so I have been since a little afeard of it. After supper some music and so to bed. This morning the King’s Proclamation against drinking, swearing, and debauchery, was read to our ships’ companies in the fleet, and indeed it gives great satisfaction to all.512
. Abed late. In the morning my Lord went on shore with the Vice-Admiral a-fishing, and at dinner returned. In the afternoon I played at ninepins with my Lord, and when he went in again I got him to sign my accounts for £115, and so upon my private balance I find myself confirmed in my estimation that I am worth £100. In the evening in my cabin a great while getting the song without book, “Help, Help Divinity, etc.”513 After supper my Lord called for the lieutenant’s cittern,514 and with two candlesticks with money in them for symballs,515 we made barber’s music,516 with which my Lord was well pleased. So to bed.
. In the morning I had letters come, that told me among other things, that my Lord’s place of Clerk of the Signet was fallen to him, which he did most lovingly tell me that I should execute, in case he could not get a better employment for me at the end of the year. Because he thought that the Duke of York would command all, but he hoped that the Duke would not remove me but to my advantage.
I had a great deal of talk about my uncle Robert,517 and he told me that he could not tell how his mind stood as to his estate, but he would do all that lay in his power for me. After dinner came Mr. Gooke from London, who told me that my wife he left well at Huntsmore, though her health not altogether so constant as it used to be, which my heart is troubled for. Mr. Moore’s letters tell me that he thinks my Lord will be suddenly sent for up to London, and so I got myself in readiness to go.
My letters tell me, that Mr. Calamy518 had preached before the King in a surplice (this I heard afterwards to be false); that my Lord, Gen. Monk, and three more Lords, are made Commissioners for the Treasury;519 that my Lord had some great place conferred on him, and they say Master of the Wardrobe;520 that the two Dukes521 do haunt the Park much, and that they were at a play, Madam Epicene522 the other day; that Sir Ant. Cooper, Mr. Hollis, and Mr. Annesly,523 late President of the Council of State, are made Privy Councillors to the King. At night very busy sending Mr. Donne away to London, and wrote to my father for a coat to be made me against I come to London, which I think will not be long. At night Mr. Edward Montagu came on board and stayed long up with my Lord. I to bed and about one in the morning,
. W. Howe called me up to give him a letter to carry to my Lord that came to me today, which I did and so to, sleep again. About three in the morning the people began to wash the deck, and the water came pouring into my mouth, which waked me, and I was fain to rise and get on my gown, and sleep leaning on my table. This morning Mr. Montagu went away again. After dinner come Mr. John Wright and Mr. Moore, with the sight of whom my heart was very glad. They brought an order for my Lord’s coming up to London, which my Lord resolved to do tomorrow. All the afternoon getting my things in order to set forth tomorrow. At night walked up and down with Mr. Moore, who did give me an account of all things at London. Among others, how the Presbyterians would be angry if they durst, but they will not be able to do anything. Most of the Commanders on board and supped with my Lord. Late at night came Mr. Edw. Pickering from London, but I could not see him this night. I went with Mr. Moore to the Master’s cabin, and saw him there in order to going to bed. After that to my own cabin to put things in order and so to bed.
. Out early, took horses at Deale. I troubled much with the King’s guitar, and Fairbrother, the rogue that I entrusted with the carrying of it on foot, whom I thought I had lost. Col. Dixwell’s horse taken by a soldier and delivered to my Lord, and by him to me to carry to London. Came to Canterbury, dined there. I saw the minster and the remains of Becket’s tomb. To Sittingborne and Rochester. At Chatham and Rochester the ships and bridge. Mr. Hetly’s mistake about dinner. Come to Gravesend. A good handsome wench I kissed, the first that I have seen a great while. Supped with my Lord, drank late below with Penrose, the Captain. To bed late, having first laid out all my things against tomorrow to put myself in a walking garb. Weary and hot to bed to Mr. Moore.
. Up betimes, 25s. the reckoning for very bare. Paid the house and by boats to London, six boats. Mr. Moore, W. Howe, and I, and then the child in the room of W. Howe. Landed at the Temple. To Mr. Crew’s. To my father’s and put myself into a handsome posture to wait upon my Lord, dined there. To Whitehall with my Lord and Mr. Edwd. Montagu. Found the King in the Park. There walked. Gallantly great.
. (Lord’s day.) At my father’s found my wife and to walk with her in Lincoln’s Inn walks.524
. Betimes to my Lord. Extremely much people and business. So with him to Whitehall to the Duke. Back with him by coach and left him in Covent Garden. I back to Will’s and the Hall to see my father. Then to the Leg in King Street with Mr. Moore, and sent for L’Impertinent to dinner with me. After that with Mr. Moore about Privy Seal business. To Mr. Watkins, so to Mr. Crew’s. Then towards my father’s met my Lord and with him to Dorset House525 to the Chancellor. So to Mr. Crew’s and saw my Lord at supper, and then home, and went to see Mrs. Turner, and so to bed.
. Visited by the two Pierces, Mr. Blackburne, Dr. Clerk and Mr. Creed, and did give them a ham of bacon. So to my Lord and with him to the Duke of Gloucester. The two Dukes dined with the Speaker, and I saw there a fine entertainment and dined with the pages. To Mr. Crew’s, whither came Mr. Greatorex, and with him to the Faithornes,526 and so to the Devils tavern. To my Lord’s and stayed till 12 at night about business. So to my father’s, my father and mother in bed, who had been with my uncle Fenner, etc., and my wife all day and expected me. But I found Mr. Cook there, and so to bed.
. To my Lord’s and thence to the Treasurer’s of the Navy,527 with Mr. Creed and Pierce the Purser to Rawlinson’s, whither my uncle Wight came, and I spent 12s. upon them. So to Mr. Crew’s, where I blotted a new carpet528 that was hired, but got it out again with fair water. By water with my Lord in a boat to Westminster, and to the Admiralty, now in a new place. After business done there to the Rhenish wine-house with Mr. Blackburne, Creed, and Wivell. So to my Lord’s lodging and to my father’s, and to bed.
. Up to my Lord and from him to the Treasurer of the Navy for £500. After that to a tavern with Washington the Purser, very gallant, and ate and drank. To Mr. Crew’s and laid my money. To my Lady Pickering529 with the plate that she did give my Lord the other day. Then to Will’s and met William Symons and Doling and Luellin, and with them to the Bull-head,530 and then to a new alehouse in Brewer’s Yard, where Winter that had the fray with Stoakes, and from them to my father’s.
. All the morning at the Commissioners of the Navy about getting out my bill for £650 for the last quarter, which I got done with a great deal of ease, which is not common. After that with Mr. Turner to the Dolphin and drunk, and so by water to W. Symons, where D. Scobell with his wife, a pretty and rich woman. Mrs. Symons, a very fine woman, very merry after dinner with marrying of Luellin and D. Scobell’s kinswoman that was there. Then to my Lord who told me how the King has given him the place of the great Wardrobe.531 My Lord resolves to have Sarah again.532 I to my father’s, and then to see my uncle and aunt Fenner. So home and to bed.
. Rose betimes and abroad in one shirt, which brought me a great cold and pain. Murford took me to Harvey’s by my father’s to drink and told me of a business that I hope to get £5 by. To my Lord, and so to Whitehall with him about the Clerk of the Privy Seal’s place, which he is to have. Then to the Admiralty, where I wrote some letters. Here Coll. Thompson told me, as a great secret; that the Nazeby was on fire when the King was there, but that is not known; when God knows it is quite false. Got a piece of gold from Major Holmes533 for the horse of Dixwell’s I brought to town. Dined at Mr. Crew’s, and after dinner with my Lord to Whitehall. Court attendance infinite tedious. Back with my Lord to my Lady Wright’s and stayed till it had done raining, which it had not done a great while. After that at night home to my father’s and to bed.
. Lay long abed. To Mr. Mossum’s; a good sermon. This day the organs did begin to play at Whitehall before the King.534 Dined at my father’s. After dinner to Mr. Mossum’s again, and so in the garden, and heard Chippell’s father preach, that was Page to the Protector, and just by the window that I stood at sat Mrs. Butler, the great beauty.535 After sermon to my Lord. Mr. Edward and I into Gray’s Inn walks, and saw many beauties. So to my father’s, where Mr. Cook, W. Bowyer, and my coz Roger Wharton supped and to bed.
. To my Lord’s, where much business and some hopes of getting some money thereby. With him to the Parliament House, where he did intend to have gone to have made his appearance today, but he met Mr. Crew upon the stairs, and would not go in. He went to Mrs. Brown’s, and stayed till word was brought him what was done in the House. This day they made an end of the twenty men to be excepted from pardon to their estates. By barge to Stepney with my Lord, where at Trinity House we had great entertainment.536 With my Lord there went Sir W. Penn, Sir H. Wright, Hetly, Pierce, Creed, Hill, I and other servants. Back again to the Admiralty, and so to my Lord’s lodgings, where he told me that he did look after the place of the Clerk of the Acts537 for me. So to Mr. Crew’s and my father’s and to bed. My wife went this day to Huntsmore for her things, and I was very lonely all night. This evening my wife’s brother, Balty, came to me to let me know his bad condition and to get a place for him, but I perceive he stands upon a place for a gentleman, that may not stain his family when, God help him, he wants bread.
. Called on betimes by Murford, who showed me five pieces to get a business done for him and I am resolved to do it. Much business at my Lord’s. This morning my Lord went into the House of Commons, and there had the thanks of the House, in the name of the Parliament and Commons of England, for his late service to his King and Country. A motion was made for a reward for him, but it was quashed by Mr. Annesly, who, above most men, is engaged to my Lord’s and Mr. Crew’s families. Meeting with Captain Stoakes at Whitehall, I dined with him and Mr. Gullop, a parson (with whom afterwards I was much offended at his importunity and impertinence, such another as Elborough),538 and Mr. Butler, who complimented much after the same manner as the parson did. After that towards my Lord’s at Mr. Crew’s, but was met with by a servant of my Lady Pickering, who took me to her and she told me the story of her husband’s case and desired my assistance with my Lord, and did give me, wrapped up in paper, £5 in silver. After that to my Lord’s, and with him to Whitehall and my Lady Pickering. My Lord went at night with the King to Baynard’s Castle539 to supper, and I home to my father’s to bed. My wife and the girl and dog came home today. When I came home I found a quantity of chocolate left for me, I know not from whom. We hear of W. Howe being sick today, but he was well at night.
. Up by 4 in the morning to write letters to sea and a commission for him that Murford solicited for. Called on by Captain Sparling, who did give me my Dutch money again, and so much as he had changed into English money, by which my mind was eased of a great deal of trouble. Some other sea captains. I did give them a good morning draught, and so to my Lord (who lay long in bed this day, because he came home late from supper with the King). With my Lord to the Parliament House, and, after that, with him to General Monk’s, where he dined at the Cock-pit. I home and dined with my wife, now making all things ready there again. Thence to my Lady Pickering, who did give me the best intelligence about the Wardrobe. Afterwards to the Cockpit to my Lord with Mr. Townsend, one formerly and now again to be employed as Deputy of the Wardrobe. Thence to the Admiralty, and despatched away Mr. Cooke to sea; whose business was a letter from my Lord about Mr. G. Montagu to be chosen as a Parliament-man in my Lord’s room at Dover;540 and another to the Vice-Admiral to give my Lord a constant account of all things in the fleet, merely that he may thereby keep up his power there; another letter to Captn. Cuttance to send the barge that brought the King on shore, to Hinchingbroke by Lynne.541 To my own house, meeting G. Vines, and drank with him at Charing Cross, now the King’s Head Tavern.542 With my wife to my father’s, where met with Swan,543 an old hypocrite, and with him, his friend and my father, and my cousin Scott to the Bear Tavern. To my father’s and to bed.
. To my Lord, much business. With him to the Council Chamber, where he was sworn; and the charge of his being admitted Privy Counsellor is £26. To the Dog Tavern at Westminster, where Murford with Captain Curle and two friends of theirs went to drink. Captain Curle, late of the Maria, gave me five pieces in gold and a silver can for my wife for the Commission I did give him this day for his ship, dated April 20, 1660 last. Thence to the Parliament door and came to Mr. Crew’s to dinner with my Lord, and with my Lord to see the great Wardrobe, where Mr. Townsend brought us to the governor of some poor children in tawny clothes; who had been maintained there these eleven years, which put my Lord to a stand how to dispose of them, that he may have the house for his use. The children did sing finely, and my Lord did bid me give them five pieces in gold at his going away. Thence back to Whitehall, where, the King being gone abroad, my Lord and I walked a great while discoursing of the simplicity of the Protector, in his losing all that his father had left him. My Lord told me, that the last words that he parted with the Protector with (when he went to the Sound), were, that he should rejoice more to see him in his grave at his return home, than that he should give way to such things as were then in hatching, and afterwards did ruin him: and the Protector said, that whatever G. Montagu, my Lord Broghill,544 Jones,545 and the Secretary, would have him to do, he would do it, be it what it would. Thence to my wife, meeting Mr. Blagrave, who went home with me, and did give me a lesson upon the flageolet, and handselled my silver can with my wife and me. To my father’s, where Sir Thomas Honeywood and his family were come of a sudden, and so we forced to lie all together in a little chamber, three stories high.
. To my Lord, where much business. With him to Whitehall, where the Duke of York not being up, we walked a good while in the Shield Gallery. Mr. Hill (who for these two or three days hath constantly attended my Lord) told me of an offer of £500 for a Baronet’s dignity, which I told my Lord of in the balcone in this gallery, and he said he would think of it. I to my Lord’s and gave order for horses to be got to draw my Lord’s great coach to Mr. Crew’s. Mr. Morrice the upholsterer came himself today to take notice what furniture we lack for our lodgings at Whitehall. My dear friend Mr. Fuller of Twickenham546 and I dined alone at the Sun Tavern, where he told me how he had the grant of being Dean of St. Patrick’s, in Ireland; and I told him my condition, and both rejoiced one for another. Thence to my Lord’s, and had the great coach to Brigham’s, who went with me to the Half Moon, and gave me a can of good julep,547 and told me how my Lady Monk548 deals with him and others for their places, asking him £500, though he was formerly the King’s coach-maker, and sworn to it. My Lord abroad, and I to my house and set things in a little order there. So with Mr. Moore to my father’s, I staying with Mrs. Turner who stood at her door as I passed. Among other things she told me for certain how my old Lady Middlesex ⸻ herself the other day in the presence of the King, and people took notice of it. Thence called at my father’s, and so to Mr. Crew’s, where Mr. Hetley had sent a letter for me, and two pair of silk stockings, one for W. Howe, and the other for me. To Sir H. Wright’s to my Lord, where he was, and took direction about business, and so by link home about 11 o’clock. To bed, the first time since my coming from sea, in my own house, for which God be praised.
. By water with Mr. Hill towards my Lord’s lodging and so to my Lord. With him to Whitehall, where I left him and went to Mr. Holmes to deliver him the horse of Dixwell’s that had stayed there fourteen days at the Bell. So to my Lord’s lodgings, where Tom Guy came to me, and there stayed to see the King touch people for the King’s evil.549 But he did not come at all, it rained so; and the poor people were forced to stand all the morning in the rain in the garden. Afterward he touched them in the Banquetting-house. With my Lord, to my Lord Frezendorfe’s,550 where he dined today. Where he told me that he had obtained a promise of the Clerk of the Acts place for me, at which I was glad. Met with Mr. Chetwind, and dined with him at Hargrave’s, the Cornchandler, in St. Martin’s Lane, where a good dinner, where he showed me some good pictures, and an instrument he called an Angelique.551 With him to London, changing all my Dutch money at Backwell’s552 for English, and then to Cardinal’s Cap, where he and the City Remembrancer who paid for all. Back to Westminster, where my Lord was, and discoursed with him awhile about his family affairs. So he went away, I home and wrote letters into the country, and to bed.
. Sunday. Drank my morning draught at Harper’s, and bought a pair of gloves there. So to Mr. G. Montagu, and told him what I had received from Dover, about his business likely to be chosen there. So home and thence with my wife towards my father’s. She went thither, I to Mr. Crew’s, where I dined and my Lord at my Lord Montagu of Boughton in Little Queen Street. In the afternoon to Mr. Mossum’s with Mr. Moore, and we sat in Mr. Butler’s pew. Then to Whitehall looking for my Lord but in vain, and back again to Mr. Crew’s where I found him and did give him letters. Among others some simple ones from our Lieutenant, Lieut. Lambert to him and myself, which made Mr. Crew and us all laugh. I went to my father’s to tell him that I would not come to supper, and so after my business done at Mr. Crew’s I went home and my wife within a little while after me, my mind all this while full of thoughts for my place of Clerk of the Acts.
. With my Lord at Whitehall, all the morning. I spoke with Mr. Coventry about my business, who promised me all the assistance I could expect. Dined with young Mr. Powell, lately come from the Sound, being amused at our great changes here, and Mr. Southerne, now Clerk to Mr. Coventry, at the Leg in King-street. Thence to the Admiralty, where I met with Mr. Turner553 of the Navy-office, who did look after the place of Clerk of the Acts. He was very civil to me, and I to him, and shall be so. There came a letter from my Lady Monk to my Lord about it this evening, but he refused to come to her, but meeting in Whitehall, with Sir Thomas Clarges, her brother, my Lord returned answer, that he could not desist in my business; and that he believed that General Monk would take it ill if my Lord should name the officers in his army; and therefore he desired to have the naming of one officer in the fleet. With my Lord by coach to Mr. Crew’s, and very merry by the way, discoursing of the late changes and his good fortune. Thence home, and then with my wife to Dorset House, to deliver a list of the names of the justices of the peace for Huntingdonshire. By coach, taking Mr. Fox part of the way with me, that was with us with the King on board the Nazeby, who I found to have married Mrs. Whittle,554 that lived at Mr. Geer’s so long. A very civil gentleman. At Dorset House I met with Mr. Kipps, my old friend, with whom the world is well changed, he being now sealbearer to the Lord Chancellor, at which my wife and I are well pleased, he being a very good natured man. Home and late writing letters. Then to my Lord’s lodging, this being the first night of his coming to Whitehall to lie since his coming from sea.
. My Lord dined at his lodgings all alone today. I went to Secretary Nicholas555 to carry him my Lord’s resolutions about his title, which he had chosen, and that is Portsmouth.556 I met with Mr. Throgmorton, a merchant, who went with me to the old Three Tuns,557 at Charing Cross, who did give me five pieces of gold for to do him a small piece of service about a convoy to Bilbo, which I did. In the afternoon, one Mr. Watts came to me, a merchant, to offer me £500 if I would desist from the Clerk of the Acts place. I pray God direct me in what I do herein. Went to my house, where I found my father, and carried him and my wife to Whitefriars, and myself to Puddlewharf,558 to the Wardrobe, to Mr. Townsend, who went with me to Backwell, the goldsmith’s, and there we chose £100 worth of plate for my Lord to give Secretary Nicholas. Back and stayed at my father’s, and so home to bed.
. With my Lord to the Duke, where he spoke to Mr. Coventry to despatch my business of the Acts, in which place everybody gives me joy, as if I were in it, which God send.559 Dined with my Lord and all the officers of his regiment, who invited my Lord and his friends, as many as he would bring, to dinner, at the Swan,560 at Dowgate, a poor house and ill dressed, but very good fish and plenty. Here Mr. Symons, the Surgeon, told me how he was likely to lose his estate that he had bought, at which I was not a little pleased. To Westminster, and with Mr. Howe by coach to the Speaker’s, where my Lord supped with the King, but I could not get in. So back again, and after a song or two in my chamber in the dark, which do (now that the bed is out) sound very well, I went home and to bed.
. My brother Tom came to me with patterns to choose for a suit. I paid him all to this day, and did give him £10 upon account. To Mr. Coventry, who told me that he would do me all right in my business. To Sir G. Downing, the first visit I have made him since he came. He is so stingy a fellow I care not to see him; I quite cleared myself of his office, and did give him liberty to take anybody in. Hawly and he are parted too, he is going to serve Sir Thos. Ingram.561 I went also this morning to see Mrs. Pierce, the chirurgeon[’s wife]. I found her in bed in her house in Margaret churchyard. Her husband returned to sea. I did invite her to go to dinner with me and my wife today. After all this to my Lord, who lay abed till eleven o’clock, it being almost five before he went to bed, they supped so late last night with the King. This morning I saw poor Bishop Wren562 going to Chappel, it being a thanksgiving-day563 for the King’s return. After my Lord was awake, I went up to him to the Nursery, where he do lie, and, having talked with him a little, I took leave and carried my wife and Mrs. Pierce to Clothworkers’-Hall,564 to dinner, where Mr. Pierce, the Purser, met us. We were invited by Mr. Chaplin,565 the Victualler, where Nich. Osborne was. Our entertainment very good, a brave hall, good company, and very good music. Where among other things I was pleased that I could find out a man by his voice, whom I had never seen before, to be one that sang behind the curtain formerly at Sir W. Davenant’s566 opera. Here Dr. Gauden and Mr. Gauden567 the victualler dined with us. After dinner to Mr. Rawlinson’s,568 to see him and his wife, and would have gone to my Aunt Wight,569 but that her only child, a daughter, died last night. Home and to my Lord, who supped within, and Mr. E. Montagu, Mr. Thos. Crew, and others with him sat up late. I home and to bed.
. This day or two my maid Jane570 has been lame, that we cannot tell what to do for want of her. Up and to Whitehall, where I got my warrant from the Duke to be Clerk of the Acts. Also I got my Lord’s warrant from the Secretary for his honour of Earl of Portsmouth, and Viscount Montagu of Hinchingbroke. So to my Lord, to give him an account of what I had done. Then to Sir Geffery Palmer,571 to give them to him to have bills drawn upon them, who told me that my Lord must have some good Latinist to make the preamble to his Patent, which must express his late service in the best terms that he can, and he told me in what high flaunting terms Sir J. Greenville572 had caused his to be done, which he do not like; but that Sir Richard Fanshawe573 had done General Monk’s very well. Back to Westminster, and meeting Mr. Townsend in the Palace, he and I and another or two went and dined at the Leg there. Then to Whitehall, where I was told by Mr. Hutchinson at the Admiralty, that Mr. Barlow,574 my predecessor, Clerk of the Acts, is yet alive, and coming up to town to look after his place, which made my heart sad a little. At night told my Lord thereof, and he bade me get possession of my Patent; and he would do all that could be done to keep him out. This night my Lord and I looked over the list of the Captains, and marked some that my Lord had a mind to have put out. Home and to bed. Our wench very lame, abed these two days.
. By times to Sir R. Fanshawe to draw up the preamble to my Lord’s Patent. So to my Lord, and with him to Whitehall, where I saw a great many fine antique heads of marble, that my Lord Northumberland575 had given the King. Here meeting with Mr. De Cretz,576 he looked over many of the pieces, in the gallery with me and told me [by] whose hands they were, with great pleasure. Dined at home and Mr. Hawly with me upon six of my pigeons, which my wife has resolved to kill here. This day came Will,577 my boy, to me; the wench continuing lame, so that my wife could not be longer without somebody to help her. In the afternoon with Sir Edward Walker, at his lodgings by St. Giles Church, for my Lord’s pedigree, and carried it to Sir R. Fanshawe. To Mr. Crew’s, and there took money and paid Mrs. Anne, Mrs. Jemima’s maid, off quite, and so she went away and another came to her. To Whitehall with Mr. Moore, where I met with a letter from Mr. Turner, offering me £150 to be joined with me in my patent, and to advise me how to improve the advantage of my place, and to keep off Barlow. To my Lord’s till late at night, and so home.
July 1660
. This morning came home my fine Camlet cloak,578 with gold buttons, and a silk suit, which cost me much money, and I pray God to make me able to pay for it. I went to the cook’s and got a good joint of meat, and my wife and I dined at home alone. In the afternoon to the Abbey, where a good sermon by a stranger, but no Common Prayer yet. After sermon called in at Mrs. Crisp’s, where I saw Mynheer Roder,579 that is to marry Sam Hartlib’s sister,580 a great fortune for her to light on, she being worth nothing in the world. Here I also saw Mrs. Greenlife, who is come again to live in Axe Yard with her new husband Mr. Adams. Then to my Lord’s, where I stayed a while. So to see for Mr. Creed to speak about getting a copy of Barlow’s patent. To my Lord’s, where late at night comes Mr. Morland, whom I left prating with my Lord, and so home.
. Infinite of business that my heart and head and all were full. Met with purser Washington, with whom and a lady, a friend of his, I dined at the Bell Tavern581 in King Street, but the rogue had no more manners than to invite me and to let me pay my club. All the afternoon with my Lord, going up and down the town; at seven at night he went home, and there the principal Officers of the Navy,582 among the rest myself was reckoned one. We had order to meet tomorrow, to draw up such an order of the Council as would put us into action before our patents were passed. At which my heart was glad. At night supped with my Lord, he and I together, in the great dining room alone by ourselves, the first time I ever did it in London. Home to bed, my maid pretty well again.
. All the morning the Officers and Commissioners of the Navy, we met at Sir G. Carteret’s583 chamber, and agreed upon orders for the Council to supersede the old ones, and empower us to act. Dined with Mr. Stephens, the Treasurer’s man of the Navy, and Mr. Turner, to whom I offered £50 out of my own purse for one year, and the benefit of a Clerk’s allowance beside, which he thanked me for; but I find he hath some design yet in his head, which I could not think of. In the afternoon my heart was quite pulled down, by being told that Mr. Barlow was to enquire today for Mr. Coventry; but at night I met with my Lord, who told me that I need not fear, for he would get me the place against the world. And when I came to W. Howe, he told me that Dr. Petty had been with my Lord, and did tell him that Barlow was a sickly man, and did not intend to execute the place himself, which put me in great comfort again. Till 2 in the morning writing letters and things for my Lord to send to sea. So home to my wife to bed.
. Up very early in the morning and landing my wife at White Friars stairs, I went to the Bridge and so to the Treasurer’s of the Navy, with whom I spake about the business of my office, who put me into very good hopes of my business. At his house comes Commissioner Pett, and he and I went to view the houses in Seething Lane, belonging to the Navy,584 where I find the worst very good, and had great fears in my mind that they will shuffle me out of them, which troubles me. From thence to the Excise Office585 in Broad Street, where I received £500 for my Lord, by appointment of the Treasurer, and went afterwards down with Mr. Luddyard and drank my morning draught with him and other officers. Thence to Mr. Backewell’s, the goldsmith, where I took my Lord’s £100 in plate for Mr. Secretary Nicholas, and my own piece of plate, being a state dish and cup in chased work for Mr. Coventry, cost me above £19. Carried these and the money by coach to my Lord’s at Whitehall, and from thence carried Nicholas’s plate to his house and left it there, intending to speak with him anon. So to Westminster Hall, where meeting with M. L’Impertinent and W. Bowyer, I took them to the Sun Tavern, and gave them a lobster and some wine, and sat talking like a fool till 4 o’clock. So to my Lord’s, and walking all the afternoon in Whitehall Court, in expectation of what shall be done in the Council as to our business. It was strange to see how all the people flocked together bare, to see the King looking out of the Council window. At night my Lord told me how my orders that I drew last night about giving us power to act, are granted by the Council. At which he and I were very glad. Home and to bed, my boy lying in my house this night the first time.
. This morning my brother Tom brought me my jackanapes coat with silver buttons. It rained this morning, which makes us fear that the glory of this great day will be lost; the King and Parliament being to be entertained by the City today with great pomp.586 Mr. Hater was with me today, and I agreed with him to be my clerk.587 Being at Whitehall, I saw the King, the Dukes, and all their attendants go forth in the rain to the City, and it bedraggled many a fine suit of clothes. I was forced to walk all the morning in Whitehall, not knowing how to get out because of the rain. Met with Mr. Cooling,588 my Lord Chamberlain’s secretary, who took me to dinner among the gentlemen waiters, and after dinner into the wine-cellar. He told me how he had a project for all us Secretaries to join together, and get money by bringing all business into our hands. Thence to the Admiralty, where Mr. Blackburne and I (it beginning to hold up) went and walked an hour or two in the Park, he giving of me light in many things in my way in this office that I go about. And in the evening I got my present of plate carried to Mr. Coventry’s. At my Lord’s at night comes Dr. Petty to me, to tell me that Barlow had come to town, and other things, which put me into a despair, and I went to bed very sad.
. In the morning with my Lord at Whitehall, got the order of the Council for us to act. From thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with the Doctor that showed us so much kindness at the Hague, and took him to the Sun Tavern, and drank with him. So to my Lord’s and dined with W. Howe and Sarah, thinking it might be the last time that I might dine with them together. In the afternoon my Lord and I, and Mr. Coventry and Sir G. Carteret, went and took possession of the Navy Office, whereby my mind was a little cheered, but my hopes not great. From thence Sir G. Carteret and I to the Treasurer’s Office, where he set some things in order. And so home, calling upon Sir Geoffry Palmer, who did give me advice about my patent, which put me to some doubt to know what to do, Barlow being alive. Afterwards called at Mr. Pim’s, about getting me a coat of velvet, and he took me to the Half Moon, and the house so full that we stayed above half an hour before we could get anything. So to my Lord’s, where in the dark W. Howe and I did sing extempories, and I find by use that we are able to sing a bass and a treble pretty well. So home, and to bed.
. To my Lord, one with me to buy a Clerk’s place, and I did demand £100. To the Council Chamber, where I took an order for the advance of the salaries of the officers of the Navy, and I find mine to be raised to £350 per annum.589 Thence to the ’Change, where I bought two fine prints of Ragotti from Rubens, and afterwards dined with my Uncle and Aunt Wight, where her sister Cox and her husband were. After that to Mr. Rawlinson’s with my uncle, and thence to the Navy Office, where I began to take an inventory of the papers, and goods, and books of the office. To my Lord’s, late writing letters. So home to bed.
. To Whitehall Chapel, where I got in with ease by going before the Lord Chancellor with Mr. Kipps. Here I heard very good music, the first time that ever I remember to have heard the organs and singing-men in surplices in my life.590 The Bishop of Chichester591 preached before the King, and made a great flattering sermon, which I did not like that Clergy should meddle with matters of state. Dined with Mr. Luellin and Salisbury592 at a cook’s shop. Home, and stayed all the afternoon with my wife till after sermon. There till Mr. Fairebrother came to call us out to my father’s to supper. He told me how he had perfectly procured me to be made Master in Arts by proxy,593 which did somewhat please me, though I remember my cousin Roger Pepys was the other day persuading me from it. While we were at supper came Wm. Howe to supper to us, and after supper went home to bed.
. All the morning at Sir G. Palmer’s advising about getting my bill drawn. From thence to the Navy office, where in the afternoon we met and sat, and there I begun to sign bills in the Office the first time. From thence Captain Holland and Mr. Browne of Harwich took me to a tavern and did give me a collation. From thence to the Temple to further my bills being done, and so home to my Lord, and thence to bed.
. This day I put on first my new silk suit, the first that ever I wore in my life. This morning came Nan Pepys’ husband Mr. Hall to see me being lately come to town. I had never seen him before. I took him to the Swan tavern with Mr. Eglin and there drank our morning draught. Home, and called my wife, and took her to Dr. Clodius’s to a great wedding of Nan Hartlib to Mynheer Roder, which was kept at Goring House594 with very great state, cost, and noble company. But, among all the beauties there, my wife was thought the greatest. After dinner I left the company, and carried my wife to Mrs. Turner’s. I went to the Attorney-General’s, and had my bill which cost me seven pieces.595 I called my wife, and set her home. And finding my Lord in Whitehall Garden, I got him to go to the Secretary’s, which he did, and desired the dispatch of his and my bills to be signed by the King. His bill is to be Earl of Sandwich, Viscount Hinchingbroke, and Baron of St. Neot’s.596 Home, with my mind pretty quiet: not returning, as I said I would, to see the bride put to bed.
. With Sir W. Penn by water to the Navy office, where we met, and dispatched business. And that being done, we went all to dinner to the Dolphin,597 upon Major Brown’s invitation. After that to the office again, where I was vexed, and so was Commissioner Pett, to see a busy fellow come to look out the best lodgings for my Lord Barkley,598 and the combining between him and Sir W. Penn; and, indeed, was troubled much at it. Home to Whitehall, and took out my bill signed by the King, and carried it to Mr. Watkins of the Privy Seal to be despatched there, and going home to take a cap, I borrowed a pair of sheets of Mr. Howe, and by coach went to the Navy office, and lay (Mr. Hater, my clerk, with me) at Commissioner Willoughby’s599 house, where I was received by him very civilly and slept well.
. Up early and by coach to Whitehall with Commissioner Pett, where, after we had talked with my Lord, I went to the Privy Seal and got my bill perfected there, and at the Signet: and then to the House of Lords, and met with Mr. Kipps, who directed me to Mr. Beale to get my patent engrossed; but he not having time to get it done in Chancery-hand, I was forced to run all up and down Chancery-lane, and the Six Clerks’ Office600 but could find none that could write the hand, that were at leisure. And so in a despair went to the Admiralty, where we met the first time there, my Lord Montagu,601 my Lord Barkley, Mr. Coventry, and all the rest of the principal Officers and Commissioners, [except] only the Controller, who is not yet chosen. At night to Mr. Kipps’s lodgings, but not finding him, I went to Mr. Spong’s and there I found him and got him to come to me to my Lord’s lodgings at 11 o’clock of night, when I got him to take my bill to write it himself (which was a great providence that he could do it) against tomorrow morning. I late writing letters to sea by the post, and so home to bed. In great trouble because I heard at Mr. Beale’s today that Barlow had been there and said that he would make a stop in the business.
. Up early, the first day that I put on my black camlet coat with silver buttons. To Mr. Spong, whom I found in his nightgown writing of my patent, and he had done as far as he could “for that etc.” by 8 o’clock. It being done, we carried it to Worcester House602 to the Chancellor, where Mr. Kipps (a strange providence that he should now be in a condition to do me a kindness, which I never thought him capable of doing for me), got me the Chancellor’s recepi to my bill; and so carried it to Mr. Beale for a docket; but he was very angry, and unwilling to do it, because he said it was ill writ (because I had got it writ by another hand, and not by him); but by much importunity I got Mr. Spong to go to his office and make an end of my patent; and in the meantime Mr. Beale to be preparing my docket, which being done, I did give him two pieces, after which it was strange how civil and tractable he was to me. From thence I went to the Navy office, where we despatched much business, and resolved of the houses for the Officers and Commissioners, which I was glad of, and I got leave to have a door made me into the leads. From thence, much troubled in mind about my patent, I went to Mr. Beale again, who had now finished my patent and made it ready for the Seal, about an hour after I went to meet him at the Chancellor’s. So I went away towards Westminster, and in my way met with Mr. Spong, and went with him to Mr. Lilly and ate some bread and cheese, and drank with him, who still would be giving me council of getting my patent out, for fear of another change, and my Lord Montagu’s fall. After that to Worcester House, where by Mr. Kipps’s means, and my pressing in General Montagu’s name to the Chancellor, I did, beyond all expectation, get my seal passed; and while it was doing in one room, I was forced to keep Sir G. Carteret (who by chance met me there, ignorant of my business) in talk, while it was a doing. Went home and brought my wife with me into London, and some money, with which I paid Mr. Beale £9 in all, and took my patent of him and went to my wife again, whom I had left in a coach at the door of Hinde Court, and presented her with my patent at which she was overjoyed; so to the Navy office, and showed her my house, and were both mightily pleased at all things there, and so to my business. So home with her, leaving her at her mother’s door. I to my Lord’s, where I dispatched an order for a ship to fetch Sir R. Honywood home, for which I got two pieces of my Lady Honywood by young Mr. Powell. Late writing letters; and great doings of music at the next house, which was Whally’s; the King and Dukes there with Madame Palmer,603 a pretty woman that they have a fancy to, to make her husband a cuckold. Here at the old door that did go into his lodgings, my Lord, I, and W. Howe, did stand listening a great while to the music. After that home to bed. This day I should have been at Guildhall to have borne witness for my brother Hawly against Black Collar, but I could not, at which I was troubled. To bed with the greatest quiet of mind that I have had a great while, having ate nothing but a bit of bread and cheese at Lilly’s today, and a bit of bread and butter after I was abed.
. Up early and advised with my wife for the putting of all our things in a readiness to be sent to our new house. To my Lord’s, where he was in bed very late. So with Major Tollhurst604 and others to Harper’s, and I sent for my barrel of pickled oysters and there ate them; while we were doing so, comes in Mr. Pagan Fisher,605 the poet, and promises me what he had long ago done, a book in praise of the King of France, with my armes, and a dedication to me very handsome. After him comes Mr. Sheply come from sea yesterday, whom I was glad to see that he may ease me of the trouble of my Lord’s business. So to my Lord’s, where I stayed doing his business and taking his commands. After that to Westminster Hall, where I paid all my debts in order to my going away from hence. Here I met with Mr. Eglin, who would needs take me to the Leg in King Street and gave me a dish of meat to dinner; and so I sent for Mons. L’Impertinent, where we sat long and were merry. After that parted, and I took Mr. Butler [Mons. L’Impertinent] with me into London by coach and showed him my house at the Navy Office, and did give order for the laying in coals. So into Fenchurch Street, and did give him a glass of wine at Rawlinson’s, and was trimmed in the street. So to my Lord’s late writing letters, and so home, where I found my wife had packed up all her goods in the house fit for a removal. So to bed.
. Lay long in bed to recover my rest. Going forth met with Mr. Sheply, and went and drank my morning draught with him at Wilkinson’s, and my brother Spicer.606 After that to Westminster Abbey, and in Henry the Seventh’s Chapel heard part of a sermon, the first that ever I heard there. To my Lord’s and dined all alone at the table with him. After dinner he and I alone fell to discourse, and I find him plainly to be a sceptic in all things of religion, and to make no great matter of anything therein, but to be a perfect Stoic. In the afternoon to Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, where I heard service and a sermon there, and after that meeting W. Bowyer there, he and I to the Park, and walked a good while till night. So to Harper’s and drank together, and Captain Stokes came to us and so I fell into discourse of buying paper at the first hand in my office, and the Captain promised me to buy it for me in France. After that to my Lord’s lodgings, where I wrote some business and so home. My wife at home all the day, she having no clothes out, all being packed up yesterday. For this month I have wholly neglected anything of news, and so have beyond belief been ignorant how things go, but now by my patent my mind is in some quiet, which God keep. I was not at my father’s today, I being afraid to go for fear he should still solicit me to speak to my Lord for a place in the Wardrobe, which I dare not do, because of my own business yet. My wife and I mightily pleased with our new house that we hope to have. My patent has cost me a great deal of money, about £40, which is the only thing at present which do trouble me much. In the afternoon to Henry the Seventh’s chapel, where I heard a sermon and spent (God forgive me) most of my time in looking upon Mrs. Butler. After that with W. Bowyer to walk in the Park. Afterwards to my Lord’s lodgings, and so home to bed, having not been at my father’s today.
This morning it proved very rainy weather so that I could not remove my goods to my house. I to my office and did business there, and so home, it being then sunrise, but by the time that I got to my house it began to rain again, so that I could not carry my goods by cart as I would have done. After that to my Lord’s and so home and to bed.
. This morning (as indeed all the mornings nowadays) much business at my Lord’s. There came to my house before I went out Mr. Barlow, an old consumptive man, and fair conditioned, with whom I did discourse a great while, and after much talk I did grant him what he asked, viz., £50 per annum, if my salary be not increased, and £100 per annum, in case it be to £350, at which he was very well pleased to be paid as I received my money and not otherwise. Going to my Lord’s I found my Lord had got a great cold and kept his bed, and so I brought him to my Lord’s bedside, and he and I did agree together to this purpose what I should allow him. That done and the day proving fair I went home and got all my goods packed up and sent away, and my wife and I and Mrs. Hunt went by coach, overtaking the carts a-drinking in the Strand. Being come to my house and set in the goods, and at night sent my wife and Mrs. Hunt to buy something for supper; they bought a Quarter of Lamb, and so we ate it, but it was not half roasted. Will,607 Mr. Blackburne’s nephew, is so obedient, that I am greatly glad of him. At night he and I and Mrs. Hunt home by water to Westminster. I to my Lord, and after having done some business with him in his chamber in the Nursery, which has been now his chamber since he came from sea, I went on foot with a linkboy to my home, where I found my wife in bed and Jane washing the house, and Will the boy sleeping, and a great deal of sport I had before I could wake him. I to bed the first night that I ever lay here with my wife.
. This morning the carpenter made an end of my door out of my chamber upon the leads. This morning we met at the office: I dined at my house in Seething Lane, and after that, going about 4 o’clock to Westminster, I met with Mr. Carter and Mr. Cooke coming to see me in a coach, and so I returned home. I did also meet with Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, with a porter with him, with a barrel of Lemons, which my man Burr sends me from sea. I took all these people home to my house and did give them some drink, and after them comes Mr. Sheply, and after a little stay we all went by water to Westminster as far as the New Exchange.608 Thence to my Lord about business, and being in talk in comes one with half a buck from Hinchinbroke, and it smelling a little strong my Lord did give it me (though it was as good as any could be). I did carry it to my mother, where I had not been a great while, and indeed had no great mind to go, because my father did lay upon me continually to do him a kindness at the Wardrobe, which I could not do because of my own business being so fresh with my Lord. But my father was not at home, and so I did leave the venison with her to dispose of as she pleased. After that home, where W. Hewer now was, and did lie this night with us, the first night. My mind very quiet, only a little trouble I have for the great debts which I have still upon me to the Secretary, Mr. Kipps, and Mr. Spong for my patent.
. I did lie late abed. I and my wife by water, landed her at Whitefriars with her boy with an iron of our new range which is already broke and my wife will have changed, and many other things she has to buy with the help of my father today. I to my Lord and found him in bed. This day I received my commission to swear people the oath of allegiance and supremacy delivered me by my Lord.609 After talk with my Lord I went to Westminster Hall, where I took Mr. Michell and his wife, and Mrs. Murford we sent for afterwards, to the Dog Tavern, where I did give them a dish of anchovies and olives and paid for all, and did talk of our old discourse when we did use to talk of the King, in the time of the Rump, privately; after that to the Admiralty Office, in Whitehall, where I stayed and writ my last observations for these four days last past. Great talk of the difference between the Episcopal and Presbyterian Clergy, but I believe it will come to nothing. So home and to bed.
. We sat at the office this morning, Sir W. Batten and Mr. Pett being upon a survey to Chatham. This morning I sent my wife to my father’s and he is to give me £5 worth of pewter. After we rose at the office, I went to my father’s, where my Uncle Fenner and all his crew and Captain Holland and his wife and my wife were at dinner at a venison pasty of the venison that I did give my mother the other day. I did this time show so much coldness to W. Joyce that I believe all the table took notice of it. After that to Westminster about my Lord’s business and so home, my Lord having not been well these two or three days, and I hear that Mr. Barnwell610 at Hinchinbroke is fallen sick again. Home and to bed.
. This morning Mr. Barlow had appointed for me to bring him what form I would have the agreement between him and me to pass, which I did to his lodgings at the Golden Eagle in the new street611 between Fetter Lane and Shoe Lane, where he liked it very well, and I from him went to get Mr. Spong to engross it in duplicates. To my Lord and spoke to him about the business of the Privy Seal for me to be sworn, though I got nothing by it, but to do Mr. Moore a kindness, which he did give me a good answer to. Went to the Six Clerks’ office to Mr. Spong for the writings, and dined with him at a club at the next door, where we had three voices to sing catches. So to my house to write letters and so to Whitehall about business of my Lord’s concerning his creation612 and so home and to bed.
. Lord’s day. All this last night it had rained hard. My brother Tom came this morning the first time to see me, and I paid him all that I owe my father to this day. Afterwards I went out and looked into several churches, and so to my uncle Fenner’s, whither my wife was got before me, and we, my father and mother, and all the Joyces, and my aunt Bell, whom I had not seen many a year before. After dinner to Whitehall (my wife to church with K. Joyce), where I find my Lord at home, and walked in the garden with him, he showing me all the respect that can be. I left him and went to walk in the Park, where great endeavouring to get into the inward Park613 but could not get in; one man was basted by the keeper, for carrying some people over on his back through the water. Afterwards to my Lord’s, where I stayed and drank with Mr. Sheply, having first sent to get a pair of oars. It was the first time that ever I went by water on the Lord’s day. Home, and at night had a chapter read; and I read prayers out of the Common Prayer Book, the first time that ever I read prayers in this house. So to bed.
. This morning Mr. Barlow comes to me, and he and I went forth to a scrivener in Fenchurch Street, whom we found sick of the gout in bed, and signed and sealed our agreement before him. He urged to have these words (in consideration whereof) to be interlined, which I granted, though against my will. Met this morning at the office, and afterwards Mr. Barlow by appointment came and dined with me, and both of us very pleasant and pleased. After dinner to my Lord, who took me to Secretary Nicholas, and there before him and Secretary Morris,614 my Lord and I upon our knees together took our oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy; and the Oath of the Privy Seal, of which I was much glad, though I am not likely to get anything by it at present; but I do desire it, for fear of a turnout of our office. That done and my Lord gone from me, I went with Mr. Cooling and his brother, and Sam Hartlibb, little Jennings and some others to the King’s Head Tavern at Charing Cross, where after drinking I took boat and so home, where we supped merrily among ourselves (our little boy proving a droll) and so after prayers to bed. This day my Lord had heard that Mr. Barnwell was dead, but it is not so yet, though he be very ill. I was troubled all this day with Mr. Cooke, being willing to do him good, but my mind is so taken up with my own business that I cannot.
. To Whitehall, where I did acquaint Mr. Watkins with my being sworn into the Privy Seal, at which he was much troubled, but put it up and did offer me a kinsman of his to be my clerk, which I did give him some hope of, though I never intend it. In the afternoon I spent much time in walking in Whitehall Court with Mr. Bickerstaffe, who was very glad of my Lord’s being sworn, because of his business with his brother Baron,615 which is referred to my Lord Chancellor, and to be ended tomorrow. Baron had got a grant beyond sea, to come in before the reversionary of the Privy Seal. This afternoon Mr. Mathews came to me, to get a certificate of my Lord’s and my being sworn, which I put in some forwardness, and so home and to bed.
. In the morning at the office, and after that down to Whitehall, where I met with Mr. Creed, and with him and a Welsh schoolmaster, a good scholar but a very pedagogue, to the ordinary at the Leg in King Street.616 I got my certificate of my Lord’s and my being sworn. This morning my Lord took leave of the House of Commons, and had the thanks of the House for his great services to his country.617 In the afternoon (but this is a mistake, for it was yesterday in the afternoon) Monsieur L’Impertinent and I met and I took him to the Sun and drank with him, and in the evening going away we met his mother and sisters and father coming from the Gatehouse,618 where they lodge, where I did the first time salute them all, and very pretty Madame Frances619 is indeed. After that very late home and called in Tower Street, and there at a barber’s was trimmed the first time. Home and to bed.
. Early to Whitehall, thinking to have a meeting of my Lord and the principal officers, but my Lord could not, it being the day that he was to go and be admitted in the House of Lords, his patent being done, which he presented upon his knees to the Speaker; and so it was read in the House, and he took his place.620 I at the Privy Seal Office with Mr. Hooker, who brought me acquainted with Mr. Crofts of the Signet, and I invited them to a dish of meat at the Leg in King Street, and so we dined there and I paid for all and had very good light given me as to my employment there. Afterwards to Mr. Pierce’s, where I should have dined but I could not, but found Mr. Sheply and W. Howe there. After we had drunk hard we parted, and I went away and met Dr. Castle, who is one of the Clerks of the Privy Seal, and told him how things were with my Lord and me, which he received very gladly. I was this day told how Baron against all expectation and law has got the place of Bickerstaffe, and so I question whether he will not lay claim to wait the next month, but my Lord tells me that he will stand for it. In the evening I met with T. Doling, who carried me to St. James’s Fair,621 and there meeting with W. Symons and his wife, and Luellin, and D. Scobell’s wife and cousin, we went to Wood’s at the Pell Mell (our old house for clubbing),622 and there we spent till 10 at night, at which time I sent to my Lord’s for my clerk Will to come to me, and so by link home to bed. Where I found Commissioner Willoughby had sent for all his things away out of my bedchamber, which is a little disappointment, but it is better than pay too dear for them.
. The last night Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn came to their houses at the office. Met this morning and did business till noon. Dined at home and from thence to my Lord’s where Will, my clerk, and I were all the afternoon making up my accounts, which we had done by night, and I find myself worth about £100 after all my expenses. At night I sent to W. Bowyer to bring me £100, being that he had in his hands of my Lord’s in keeping, out of which I paid Mr. Sheply all that remained due to my Lord upon my balance, and took the rest home with me late at night. We got a coach, but the horses were tired and could not carry us farther than St. Dunstan’s. So we ’light and took a link and so home weary to bed.
. Early in the morning rose, and a boy brought me a letter from Poet Fisher, who tells me that he is upon a panegyric of the King, and desired to borrow a piece of me; and I sent him half a piece.623 To Westminster, and there dined with Mr. Sheply and W. Howe, afterwards meeting with Mr. Henson, who had formerly had the brave clock that went with bullets (which is now taken away from him by the King, it being his goods).624 I went with him to the Swan Tavern and sent for Mr. Butler, who was now all full of his high discourse in praise of Ireland, whither he and his whole family are going by Coll. Dillon’s persuasion, but so many lies I never heard in praise of anything as he told of Ireland. So home late at night and to bed.
. Lord’s day. I and my boy Will to Whitehall, and I with my Lord to Whitehall Chapel, where I heard a cold sermon of the Bishop of Salisbury’s,625 and the ceremonies did not please me, they do so overdo them. My Lord went to dinner at Kensington with my Lord Camden.626 So I dined and took Mr. Birfett, my Lord’s chaplain, and his friend along with me, with Mr. Sheply at my Lord’s. In the afternoon with Dick Vines and his brother Payton, we walked to Lisson Green and Marybone627 and back again, and finding my Lord at home I got him to look over my accounts, which he did approve of and signed them, and so we are even to this day. Of this I was glad, and do think myself worth clear money about £120. Home late, calling in at my father’s without stay. To bed.
. Sat at our office today, and my father came this day the first time to see us at my new office. And Mrs. Crisp by chance came in and sat with us, looked over our house and advised about the furnishing of it. This afternoon I got my £50, due to me for my first quarter’s salary as Secretary to my Lord, paid to Tho. Hater for me, which he received and brought home to me, of which I am full glad. To Westminster and among other things met with Mr. Moore, and took him and his friend, a bookseller of Paul’s Churchyard, to the Rhenish Winehouse, and drinking there the sword-bearer of London (Mr. Man) came to ask for us, with whom we sat late, discoursing about the worth of my office of Clerk of the Acts, which he hath a mind to buy, and I asked four years’ purchase. We are to speak more of it tomorrow. Home on foot, and seeing him at home at Butler’s merry, he lent me a torch, which Will carried, and so home.
. To Whitehall, where my Lord and the principal officers met, and had a great discourse about raising of money for the Navy, which is in very sad condition, and money must be raised for it. Mr. Blackburne, Dr. Clerke, and I to the Quaker’s and dined there. I back to the Admiralty, and there was doing things in order to the calculating of the debts of the Navy and other business, all the afternoon. At night I went to the Privy Seal, where I found Mr. Crofts and Mathews making up all their things to leave the office tomorrow, to those that come to wait the next month. I took them to the Sun Tavern and there made them drink, and discoursed concerning the office, and what I was to expect tomorrow about Baron, who pretends to the next month. Late home by coach so far as Ludgate with Mr. Mathews, and thence home on foot with W. Hewer with me, and so to bed.
August 1660
. Up very early, and by water to Whitehall to my Lord’s, and there up to my Lord’s lodging (Wm. Howe being now ill of the gout at Mr. Pierce’s), and there talked with him about the affairs of the Navy, and how I was now to wait today at the Privy Seal. Commissioner Pett went with me, whom I desired to make my excuse at the office for my absence this day. Hence to the Privy Seal Office, where I got (by Mr. Mathews’ means) possession of the books and table, but with some expectation of Baron’s bringing of a warrant from the King to have this month. Nothing done this morning, Baron having spoke to Mr. Woodson and Groome (clerks to Mr. Trumbull of the Signet) to keep all work in their hands till the afternoon, at which time he expected to have his warrant from the King for this month.628 I took at noon Mr. Harper to the Leg in King Street, and did give him his dinner, who did still advise me much to act wholly myself at the Privy Seal, but I told him that I could not, because I had other business to take up my time. In the afternoon at the office again, where we had many things to sign; and I went to the Council Chamber, and there got my Lord to sign the first bill, and the rest all myself; but received no money today. After I had signed all, I went with Dick Scobell and Luellin to drink at a bottle beer house in the Strand, and after staying there a while (had sent W. Hewer home before), I took boat and homewards went, and in Fish Street bought a Lobster, and as I had bought it I met with Winter and Mr. Delabarr, and there with a piece of sturgeon of theirs we went to the Sun Tavern in the street629 and ate them. Late home and to bed.
. To Westminster by water with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn (our servants in another boat) to the Admiralty; and from thence I went to my Lord’s to fetch him thither, where we stayed in the morning about ordering of money for the victuallers, and advising how to get a sum of money to carry on the business of the Navy. From thence dined with Mr. Blackburne at his house with his friends (his wife being in the country and just upon her return to London), where we were very well treated and merry. From thence W. Hewer and I to the office of Privy Seal, where I stayed all the afternoon, and received about £40 for yesterday and today, at which my heart rejoiced for God’s blessing to me, to give me this advantage by chance, there being of this £40 about £10 due to me for this day’s work. So great is the present profit of this office, above what it was in the King’s time; there being the last month about 300 bills; whereas in the late King’s time it was much to have 40. With my money home by coach, it being the first time that I could get home before our gates were shut since I came to the Navy office. When I came home I found my wife not very well of her old pain … which she had when we were married first. I went and cast up the expense that I laid out upon my former house (because there are so many that are desirous of it, and I am, in my mind, loth to let it go out of my hands, for fear of a turn). I find my layings-out to come to about £20, which with my fine will come to about £22 to him that shall hire my house of me.630 To bed.
. Up betimes this morning, and after the barber had done with me, then to the office, where I and Sir William Penn only did meet and despatch business. At noon my wife and I by coach to Dr. Clerke’s to dinner: I was very much taken with his lady, a comely, proper woman, though not handsome; but a woman of the best language I ever heard. Here dined Mrs. Pierce and her husband. After dinner I took leave to go to Westminster, where I was at the Privy Seal Office all day, signing things and taking money, so that I could not do as I had intended, that is to return to them and go to the Red Bull Playhouse,631 but I took coach and went to see whether it was done so or no, and I found it done. So I returned to Dr. Clerke’s, where I found them and my wife, and by and by took leave and went away home.
. To Whitehall, where I found my Lord gone with the King by water to dine at the Tower with Sir J. Robinson,632 Lieutenant. I found my Lady Jemimah633 at my Lord’s, with whom I stayed and dined, all alone; after dinner to the Privy Seal Office, where I did business. So to a Committee of Parliament (Sir Hen[eage] Finch,634 Chairman), to give them an answer to an order of theirs, “that we could not give them any account of the Accounts of the Navy in the years 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, as they desire.” After that I went and bespoke some linen of Betty Lane in the Hall, and after that to the Trumpet, where I sat and talked with her, etc. At night, it being very rainy, and it thundering and lightning exceedingly, I took coach at the Trumpet door, taking Monsieur L’Impertinent along with me as far as the Savoy, where he said he went to lie with Cary Dillon,635 and is still upon the mind of going (he and his whole family) to Ireland. Having set him down I made haste home, and in the courtyard, it being very dark, I heard a man inquire for my house, and having asked his business, he told me that my man William (who went this morning out of town to meet his aunt Blackburne) was come home not very well to his mother, and so could not come home tonight. At which I was very sorry. I found my wife still in pain. To bed, having not time to write letters, and indeed having so many to write to all places that I have no heart to go about them. Mrs. Shaw did die yesterday and her husband so sick that he is not like to live.
. Lord’s day. My wife being much in pain, I went this morning to Dr. Williams (who had cured her once before of this business), in Holborn, and he did give me an ointment which I sent home by my boy, and a plaister which I took with me to Westminster (having called and seen my mother in the morning as I went to the doctor), where I dined with Mr. Sheply (my Lord dining at Kensington). After dinner to St. Margaret’s, where the first time I ever heard Common Prayer in that Church. I sat with Mr. Hill in his pew; Mr. Hill that married in Axe Yard and that was aboard us in the Hope. Church done I went and Mr. Sheply to see W. Howe at Mr. Pierce’s, where I stayed singing of songs and psalms an hour or two, and were very pleasant with Mrs. Pierce and him. Thence to my Lord’s, where I stayed and talked and drank with Mr. Sheply. After that to Westminster stairs, where I saw a fray between Mynheer Clinke, a Dutchman, that was at Hartlibb’s wedding, and a waterman, which made good sport. After that I got a Gravesend boat, that was come up to fetch some bread on this side the bridge, and got them to carry me to the bridge, and so home, where I found my wife. After prayers I to bed to her, she having had a very bad night of it. This morning before I was up Will came home pretty well again, he having been only weary with riding, which he is not used to.
. This morning at the office, and, that being done, home to dinner all alone, my wife being ill in pain abed, which I was troubled at, and not a little impatient. After dinner to Whitehall at the Privy Seal all the afternoon, and at night with Mr. Man to Mr. Rawlinson’s in Fenchurch Street, where we stayed till eleven o’clock at night. So home and to bed, my wife being all this day in great pain. This night Mr. Man offered me £1,000 for my office of Clerk of the Acts, which made my mouth water; but yet I dare not take it till I speak with my Lord to have his consent.
. This morning to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and took Mr. Moore and myself and dined at my Lord’s with Mr. Sheply. While I was at dinner in come Sam. Hartlibb636 and his brother-in-law,637 now knighted by the King, to request my promise of a ship for them to Holland, which I had promised to get for them. After dinner to the Privy Seal all the afternoon. At night, meeting Sam. Hartlibb, he took me by coach to Kensington, to my Lord of Holland’s;638 I stayed in the coach while he went in about his business. He staying long I left the coach and walked back again before on foot (a very pleasant walk) to Kensington, where I drank and stayed very long waiting for him. At last he came, and after drinking at the inn we went towards Westminster. Here I endeavoured to have looked out Jane that formerly lived at Dr. Williams’ at Cambridge, whom I had long thought to live at present here, but I found myself in an error, meeting one in the place where I expected to have found her, but she proved not she though very like her. We went to the Bullhead, where he and I sat and drank till 11 at night, and so home on foot. Found my wife pretty well again, and so to bed.
. We met at the office, and after that to dinner at home, and from thence with my wife by water to Catan Sterpin, with whom and her mistress Pye we sat discoursing of Kate’s marriage to Mons. Petit,639 her mistress and I giving the best advice we could for her to suspend her marriage till Mons. Petit had got some place that may be able to maintain her, and not for him to live upon the portion that she shall bring him. From thence to Mr. Butler’s to see his daughters, the first time that ever we made a visit to them. We found them very pretty, and Coll. Dillon there, a very merry and witty companion, but methinks they live in a gaudy but very poor condition. From thence, my wife and I intending to see Mrs. Blackburne, who had been a day or two again to see my wife, but my wife was not in condition to be seen, but she not being at home my wife went to her mother’s and I to the Privy Seal. At night from the Privy Seal, Mr. Woodson and Mr. Jennings and I to the Sun Tavern till it was late, and from thence to my Lord’s, where my wife was come from Mrs. Blackburne’s to me, and after I had done some business with my Lord, she and I went to Mrs. Hunt’s, who would needs have us to lie at her house tonight, she being with my wife so late at my Lord’s with us, and would not let us go home tonight. We lay there all night very pleasantly and at ease …
. Left my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s and I to my Lord’s, and from thence with Judge Advocate Fowler, Mr. Creed, and Mr. Sheply to the Rhenish Wine-house, and Captain Hayward of the Plymouth, who is now ordered to carry my Lord Winchelsea, Embassador to Constantinople.640 We were very merry, and Judge Advocate did give Captain Hayward his Oath of Allegiance and Supremacy. Thence to my office of Privy Seal, and, having signed some things there, with Mr. Moore and Dean Fuller to the Leg in King Street, and, sending for my wife, we dined there very merry, and after dinner, parted. After dinner with my wife to Mrs. Blackburne to visit her. She being within I left my wife there, and I to the Privy Seal, where I despatch some business, and from thence to Mrs. Blackburne again, who did treat my wife and me with a great deal of civility, and did give us a fine collation of collar of beef, etc. Thence I, having my head full of drink from having drunk so much Rhenish wine in the morning, and more in the afternoon at Mrs. Blackburne’s, came home and so to bed, not well, and very ill all night.
. I had a great deal of pain all night, and a great loosing upon me so that I could not sleep. In the morning I rose with much pain and to the office. I went and dined at home, and after dinner with great pain in my back I went by water to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and that done with Mr. Moore and Creed to Hide Park by coach, and saw a fine footrace three times round the Park641 between an Irishman and Crow, that was once my Lord Claypoole’s642 footman. (By the way I cannot forget that my Lord Claypoole did the other day make enquiry of Mrs. Hunt, concerning my House in Axe-yard, and did set her on work to get it of me for him, which methinks is a very great change.) Crow beat the other by above two miles. Returned from Hide Park, I went to my Lord’s, and took Will (who waited for me there) by coach and went home, taking my lute home with me. It had been all this while since I came from sea at my Lord’s for him to play on. To bed in some pain still. For this month or two it is not imaginable how busy my head has been, so that I have neglected to write letters to my uncle Robert in answer to many of his, and to other friends, nor indeed have I done anything as to my own family, and especially this month my waiting at the Privy Seal makes me much more unable to think of anything, because of my constant attendance there after I have done at the Navy Office. But blessed be God for my good chance of the Privy Seal, where I get every day I believe about £3. This place I got by chance, and my Lord did give it me by chance, neither he nor I thinking it to be of the worth that he and I find it to be. Never since I was a man in the world was I ever so great a stranger to public affairs as now I am, having not read a new book or anything like it, or enquiring after any news, or what the Parliament do, or in any wise how things go. Many people look after my house in Axe-yard to hire it, so that I am troubled with them, and I have a mind to get the money to buy goods for my house at the Navy Office, and yet I am loth to put it off because that Mr. Man bids me £1,000 for my office, which is so great a sum that I am loth to settle myself at my new house, lest I should take Mr. Man’s offer in case I found my Lord willing to it.
. I rose today without any pain, which makes me think that my pain yesterday was nothing but from my drinking too much the day before. To my Lord this morning, who did give me order to get some things ready against the afternoon for the Admiralty where he would meet. To the Privy Seal, and from thence going to my own house in Axeyard, I went in to Mrs. Crisp’s, where I met with Mr. Hartlibb; for whom I wrote a letter for my Lord to sign for a ship for his brother and sister, who went away hence this day to Gravesend, and from thence to Holland. I found by discourse with Mrs. Crisp that he is very jealous of her, for that she is yet very kind to her old servant Meade. Hence to my Lord’s to dinner with Mr. Sheply, so to the Privy Seal; and at night home, and then sent for the barber, and was trimmed in the kitchen, the first time that ever I was so. I was vexed this night that W. Hewer was out of doors till ten at night but was pretty well satisfied again when my wife told me that he wept because I was angry, though indeed he did give me a good reason for his being out; but I thought it a good occasion to let him know that I do expect his being at home. So to bed.
. Lord’s day. To my Lord, and with him to Whitehall Chapel, where Mr. Calamy preached, and made a good sermon upon these words “To whom much is given, of him much is required.” He was very officious with his three reverences to the King, as others do. After sermon a brave anthem of Captain Cooke’s,643 which he himself sung, and the King was well pleased with it. My Lord dined at my Lord Chamberlain’s,644 and I at his house with Mr. Sheply. After dinner I did give Mr. Donne, who is going to sea, the key of my cabin and direction for the putting up of my things. After, that I went to walk, and meeting Mrs. Lane of Westminster Hall, I took her to my Lord’s, and did give her a bottle of wine in the garden, where Mr. Fairbrother, of Cambridge, did come and found us, and drank with us. After that I took her to my house, where I was exceeding free in dallying with her, and she not unfree to take it. At night home and called at my father’s, where I found Mr. Fairbrother, but I did not stay but went homewards and called in at Mr. Rawlinson’s, whither my uncle Wight was coming and did come, but was exceeding angry (he being a little fuddled, and I think it was that I should see him in that case) as I never saw him in my life, which I was somewhat troubled at. Home and to bed.
. A sitting day at our office. After dinner to Whitehall; to the Privy Seal, whither my father came to me, and stayed talking with me a great while, telling me that he had propounded Mr. John Pickering for Sir Thomas Honywood’s daughter,645 which I think he do not deserve for his own merit: I know not what he may do for his estate. My father and Creed and I to the old Rhenish Winehouse, and talked and drank till night. Then my father home, and I to my Lord’s; where he told me that he would suddenly go into the country, and so did commend the business of his sea commission to me in his absence. After that home by coach, and took my £100 that I had formerly left at Mr. Rawlinson’s, home with me, which is the first that ever I was master of at once. To prayers, and to bed.
. To the Privy Seal, and thence to my Lord’s, where Mr. Pim, the tailor, and I agreed upon making me a velvet coat. From thence to the Privy Seal again, where Sir Samuel Morland came in with a Baronet’s grant to pass, which the King had given him to make money of. Here he stayed with me a great while; and told me the whole manner of his serving the King in the time of the Protector; and how Thurloe’s bad usage made him to do it; how he discovered Sir R. Willis, and how he hath sunk his fortune for the King; and that now the King hath given him a pension of £500 per annum out of the Post Office for life, and the benefit of two Baronets; all which do make me begin to think that he is not so much a fool as I took him to be. Home by water to the Tower, where my father, Mr. Fairbrother, and Cooke dined with me. After dinner in comes young Captain Cuttance646 of the Speedwell, who is sent up for the gratuity given the seamen that brought the King over. He brought me a firkin of butter for my wife, which is very welcome. My father, after dinner, takes leave, after I had given him 40s. for the last half year for my brother John at Cambridge. I did also make even with Mr. Fairbrother for my degree of Master of Arts, which cost me about £9 16s.647 To Whitehall, and my wife with me by water, where at the Privy Seal and elsewhere all the afternoon. At night home with her by water, where I made good sport with having the girl and the boy to comb my head, before I went to bed, in the kitchen.
. To the office, and after dinner by water to Whitehall, where I found the King gone this morning by 5 of the clock to see a Dutch pleasure-boat below bridge,648 where he dines, and my Lord with him. The King do tire all his people that are about him with early rising since he came. To the office, all the afternoon I stayed there, and in the evening went to Westminster Hall, where I stayed at Mrs. Michell’s, and with her and her husband sent for some drink, and drank with them. By the same token she and Mrs. Murford and another old woman of the Hall were going a gossiping tonight. From thence to my Lord’s, where I found him within, and he did give me direction about his business in his absence, he intending to go into the country tomorrow morning. Here I lay all night in the old chamber which I had now given up to W. Howe, with whom I did intend to lie, but he and I fell to play with one another, so that I made him to go lie with Mr. Sheply. So I lay alone all night.
. This morning my Lord (all things being ready) carried me by coach to Mr. Crew’s, (in the way talking how good he did hope my place would be to me, and in general speaking that it was not the salary of any place that did make a man rich, but the opportunity of getting money while he is in the place) where he took leave, and went into the coach, and so for Hinchinbroke. My Lady Jemimah and Mr. Thomas Crew in the coach with him. Hence to Whitehall about noon, where I met with Mr. Madge, who took me along with him and Captain Cooke (the famous singer) and other masters of music to dinner at an ordinary about Charing Cross where we dined, all paying their club. Hence to the Privy Seal, where there has been but little work these two days. In the evening home.
. To the office, and that done home to dinner where Mr. Unthanke, my wife’s tailor, dined with us, we having nothing but a dish of sheep’s trotters. After dinner by water to Whitehall, where a great deal of business at the Privy Seal. At night I and Creed and the Judge-Advocate went to Mr. Pim, the tailor’s, who took us to the Half Moon, and there did give us great store of wine and anchovies, and would pay for them all. This night I saw Mr. Creed show many the strangest emotions to shift off his drink I ever saw in my life. By coach home and to bed.
. This morning I took my wife towards Westminster by water, and landed her at Whitefriars, with £5 to buy her a petticoat, and I to the Privy Seal. By and by comes my wife to tell me that my father has persuaded her to buy a most fine cloth of 26s. a yard, and a rich lace, that the petticoat will come to £5, at which I was somewhat troubled, but she doing it very innocently, I could not be angry. I did give her more money, and sent her away, and I and Creed and Captain Hayward (who is now unkindly put out of the Plymouth to make way for Captain Allen to go to Constantinople, and put into his ship the Dover, which I know will trouble my Lord) went and dined at the Leg in King Street, where Captain Ferrers, my Lord’s Cornet, comes to us, who after dinner took me and Creed to the Cockpit play,649 the first that I have had time to see since my coming from sea, The Loyal Subject,650 where one Kinaston,651 a boy, acted the Duke’s sister, but made the loveliest lady that ever I saw in my life, only her voice not very good. After the play done, we three went to drink, and by Captain Ferrers’ means, Kinaston and another that acted Archas, the General, came and drank with us. Hence home by coach, and after being trimmed, leaving my wife to look after her little bitch, which was just now a-whelping, I to bed.
. In the morning my wife tells me that the bitch has whelped four young ones and is very well after it, my wife having had a great fear that she would die thereof, the dog that got them being very big. This morning Sir W. Batten, Penn, and myself, went to church to the churchwardens, to demand a pew, which at present could not be given us, but we are resolved to have one built. So we stayed and heard Mr. Mills,652 a very good minister. Home to dinner, where my wife had on her new petticoat that she bought yesterday, which indeed is a very fine cloth and a fine lace; but that being of a light colour, and the lace all silver, it makes no great show. Mr. Creed and my brother Tom dined with me. After dinner my wife went and fetched the little puppies to us, which are very pretty ones. After they were gone, I went up to put my papers in order, and finding my wife’s clothes lie carelessly laid up, I was angry with her, which I was troubled for. After that my wife and I went and walked in the garden, and so home to bed.
. As Sir W. Penn and I were walking in the garden, a messenger came to me from the Duke of York to fetch me to the Lord Chancellor. So (Mrs. Turner with her daughter The. being come to my house to speak with me about a friend of hers to send to sea) I went with her in her coach as far as Worcester House, but my Lord Chancellor being gone to the House of Lords, I went thither, and (there being a law case before them this day) got in, and there stayed all the morning, seeing their manner of sitting on woolpacks, etc., which I never did before.653 After the House was up, I spoke to my Lord, and had order from him to come to him at night. This morning Mr. Creed did give me the Papers that concern my Lord’s sea commission, which he left in my hands and went to sea this day to look after the gratuity money. This afternoon at the Privy Seal, where reckoning with Mr. Moore, he had got £100 for me together, which I was glad of, guessing that the profits of this month would come to £100. In the evening I went all alone to drink at Mr. Harper’s, where I found Mrs. Crisp’s daughter, with whom and her friends I stayed and drank, and so with W. Hewer by coach to Worcester House, where I ’light, sending him home with the £100 that I received today. Here I stayed, and saw my Lord Chancellor come into his Great Hall, where wonderful how much company there was to expect him at a Seal. Before he would begin any business, he took my papers of the state of the debts of the Fleet, and there viewed them before all the people, and did give me his advice privately how to order things, to get as much money as we can of the Parliament. That being done, I went home, where I found all my things come home from sea (sent by desire by Mr. Dun), of which I was glad, though many of my things are quite spoilt with mould by reason of lying so long a shipboard, and my cabin being not tight. I spent much time to dispose of them tonight, and so to bed.
. This morning I went to Whitehall with Sir W. Penn by water, who in our passage told me how he was bred up under Sir W. Batten. We went to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, and consulted of drawing my papers of debts of the Navy against the afternoon for the Committee. So to the Admiralty, where W. Hewer and I did them, and after that he went to his Aunt’s Blackburn (who has a kinswoman dead at her house today, and was to be buried tonight, by which means he stayed very late out). I to Westminster Hall, where I met Mr. Crew and dined with him, where there dined one Mr. Hickeman,654 an Oxford man, who spoke very much against the height of the now old clergy, for putting out many of the religious fellows of Colleges, and inveighing against them for their being drunk, which, if true, I am sorry to hear. After that towards Westminster, where I called on Mr. Pim, and there found my velvet coat (the first that ever I had) done, and a velvet mantle, which I took to the Privy Seal Office, and there locked them up, and went to the Queen’s Court, and there, after much waiting, spoke with Colonel Birch,655 who read my papers, and desired some addition, which done I returned to the Privy Seal, where little to do, and with Mr. Moore towards London, and in our way meeting Monsieur Eschar (Mr. Montagu’s man), about the Savoy, he took us to the Brazennose Tavern, and there drank and so parted, and I home by coach, and there, it being post-night, I wrote to my Lord to give him notice that all things are well; that General Monk656 is made Lieutenant of Ireland, which my Lord Roberts657 (made Deputy) do not like of, to be Deputy to any man but the King himself. After that to bed.
. Office, which done, Sir W. Penn took me into the garden, and there told me how Mr. Turner do intend to petition the Duke for an allowance extra as one of the Clerks of the Navy, which he desired me to join with him in the furthering of, which I promised to do so that it did not reflect upon me or to my damage to have any other added, as if I was not able to perform my place; which he did wholly disown to be any of his intention, but far from it. I took Mr. Hater home with me to dinner, with whom I did advise, who did give me the same counsel. After dinner he and I to the office about doing something more as to the debts of the Navy than I had done yesterday, and so to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and having done there, with my father (who came to see me) to Westminster Hall and the Parliament House to look for Col. Birch, but found him not. In the House, after the Committee was up, I met with Mr. G. Montagu, and joyed him in his entrance (this being his 3rd day) for Dover. Here he made me sit all alone in the House, none but he and I, half an hour, discoursing how things stand, and in short he told me how there was like to be many factions at Court between Marquis Ormond,658 General Monk, and the Lord Roberts, about the business of Ireland; as there is already between the two Houses about the Act of Indemnity; and in the House of Commons, between the Episcopalian and Presbyterian men. Hence to my father’s (walking with Mr. Herring, the minister of St. Bride’s), and took them to the Sun Tavern, where I found George, my old drawer, come again. From thence by water, landed them at Blackfriars, and so home and to bed.
. By water to Doctors’ Commons to Dr. Walker,659 to give him my Lord’s papers to view over concerning his being empowered to be Vice-Admiral under the Duke of York. There meeting with Mr. Pinkney, he and I to a morning draught, and thence by water to Whitehall, to the Parliament House, where I spoke with Colonel Birch, and so to the Admiralty chamber, where we and Mr. Coventry had a meeting about several businesses. Amongst others, it was moved that Phineas Pett660 (kinsman to the Commissioner) of Chatham, should be suspended his employment till he had answered some articles put in against him, as that he should formerly say that the King was a bastard and his mother a whore. Hence to Westminster Hall, where I met with my father Bowyer, and Mr. Spicer, and them I took to the Leg in King Street, and did give them a dish or two of meat, and so away to the Privy Seal, where, the King being out of town, we have had nothing to do these two days. To Westminster Hall, where I met with W. Symons, T. Doling, and Mr. Booth, and with them to the Dog, where we eat a musk melon661 (the first that I have eat this year), and were very merry with W. Symons, calling him Mr. Dean, because of the Dean’s lands that his uncle had left him, which are like to be lost all. Hence home by water, and very late at night writing letters to my Lord to Hinchinbroke, and also to the Vice-Admiral in the Downs, and so to bed.
. Office, and thence with Sir William Batten and Sir William Penn to the parish church to find out a place where to build a seat or a gallery to sit in, and did find one which is to be done speedily.662 Hence with them to dinner at a tavern in Thames Street, where they were invited to a roasted haunch of venison and other very good victuals and company. Hence to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, but nothing to do. At night by land to my father’s, where I found my mother not very well. I did give her a pint of sack. My father came in, and Dr. T. Pepys,663 who talked with me in French about looking out for a place for him. But I found him a weak man, and speaks the worst French that ever I heard of one that had been so long beyond sea. Hence into Paul’s Churchyard and bought Barkley’s Argenis664 in Latin, and so home and to bed. I found at home that Captain Burr had sent me 4 dozen bottles of wine today. The King came back to Whitehall tonight.
. This morning Mr. Turner and I by coach from our office to Whitehall (in our way I calling on Dr. Walker for the papers I did give him the other day, which he had perused and found that the Duke’s counsel had abated something of the former draught which Dr. Walker drew for my Lord) to Sir G. Carteret, where we there made up an estimate of the debts of the Navy for the Council. At noon I took Mr. Turner and Mr. Moore to the Leg in King Street, and did give them a dinner, and afterward to the Sun Tavern, and did give Mr. Turner a glass of wine, there coming to us Mr. Fowler the apothecary (the Judge’s son) with a book of lute lessons which his father had left there for me, such as he formerly did use to play when a young man, and had the use of his hand. To the Privy Seal, and found some business now again to do there. To Westminster Hall for a new half-shirt of Mrs. Lane, and so home by water. Wrote letters by the post to my Lord and to sea. This night W. Hewer brought me home from Mr. Pim’s my velvet coat and cap, the first that ever I had. So to bed.
. With Sir W. Penn to the parish church, where we are placed in the highest pew of all, where a stranger preached a dry and tedious long sermon. Dined at home. To church again in the afternoon with my wife; in the garden and on the leads at night, and so to supper and to bed.
. This morning comes one with a vessel of Northdown ale from Mr. Pierce, the purser, to me, and after him another with a brave Turkey carpet and a jar of olives from Captain Cuttance, and a pair of fine turtledoves from John Burr to my wife. These things came up today in our smack, and my boy Ely came along with them, and came after office was done to see me. I did give him half a crown because I saw that he was ready to cry to see that he could not be entertained by me here. In the afternoon to the Privy Seal, where good store of work now toward the end of the month. From thence with Mr. Mount, Luellin, and others to the Bull head till late, and so home, where about 10 o’clock Major Hart came to me, whom I did receive with wine and anchovies, which made me so dry that I was ill with them all night, and was fain to have the girl rise and fetch me some drink.
. At home looking over my papers and books and house as to the fitting of it to my mind till two in the afternoon. Some time I spent this morning beginning to teach my wife some scale in music, and found her apt beyond imagination. To the Privy Seal, where great store of work today. Colonel Scroope665 is this day excepted out of the Act of Indemnity, which has been now long in coming out, but it is expected tomorrow. I carried home £80 from the Privy Seal, by coach, and at night spent a little more time with my wife about her music with great content. This day I heard my poor mother had then two days been very ill, and I fear she will not last long. To bed, a little troubled that I fear my boy Will666 is a thief and has stole some money of mine, particularly a letter that Mr. Jenkins did leave the last week with me with half a crown in it to send to his son.
. Before I went to the office my wife and I examined my boy Will about his stealing of things, but he denied all with the greatest subtlety and confidence in the world. To the office, and after office then to the Church, where we took another view of the place where we had resolved to build a gallery, and have set men about doing it. Home to dinner, and there I found my wife had discovered my boy Will’s theft and a great deal more than we imagined, at which I was vexed and intend to put him away. To my office at the Privy Seal in the afternoon, and from thence at night to the Bull Head, with Mount, Luellin, and others, and hence to my father’s, and he being at my uncle Fenner’s, I went thither to him, and there sent for my boy’s father and talked with him about his son, and had his promise that if I will send home his boy, he will take him notwithstanding his indenture. Home at night, and find that my wife had found out more of the boy’s stealing 6s. out of W. Hewer’s closet, and hid it in the house of office, at which my heart was troubled. To bed, and caused the boy’s clothes to be brought up to my chamber. But after we were all abed, the wench (which lies in our chamber) called us to listen of a sudden, which put my wife into such a fright that she shook every joint of her, and a long time that I could not get her out of it. The noise was the boy, we did believe, got in a desperate mood out of his bed to do himself or William667 some mischief. But the wench went down and got a candle lighted, and finding the boy in bed, and locking the doors fast, with a candle burning all night, we slept well, but with a great deal of fear.
. We found all well in the morning below stairs, but the boy in a sad plight of seeming sorrow; but he is the most cunning rogue that ever I met with of his age. To Whitehall, where I met with the Act of Indemnity668 (so long talked of and hoped for), with the Act of Rate for Pole-money, and for judicial proceedings. At Westminster Hall I met with Mr. Paget the lawyer, and dined with him at Heaven. This afternoon my wife went to Mr. Pierce’s wife’s child’s christening, and was urged to be godmother, but I advised her beforehand not to do it, so she did not, but as proxy for my Lady Jemimah. This the first day that ever I saw my wife wear black patches since we were married.669 My Lord came to town today, but coming not home till very late I stayed till 10 at night, and so home on foot. Mr. Sheply and Mr. Childe670 this night at the tavern.
. Early to wait upon my Lord at Whitehall, and with him to the Duke’s chamber. So to my office in Seething Lane. Dined at home, and after dinner to my Lord again, who told me that he is ordered to go suddenly to sea, and did give me some orders to be drawing up against his going. This afternoon I agreed to let my house quite out of my hands to Mr. Dalton (one of the wine sellers to the King, with whom I had drunk in the old wine cellar two or three times) for £41. At night made even at Privy Seal for this month against tomorrow to give up possession, but we know not to whom, though we most favour Mr. Bickerstaffe, with whom and Mr. Matthews we drank late after office was done at the Sun, discoursing what to do about it tomorrow against Baron, and so home and to bed. Blessed be God all things continue well with and for me. I pray God fit me for a change of my fortune.
September 1660
. This morning I took care to get a vessel to carry my Lord’s things to the Downs on Monday next, and so to Whitehall to my Lord, where he and I did look over the Commission drawn for him by the Duke’s Council, which I do not find my Lord displeased with, though short of what Dr. Walker did formerly draw for him. Thence to the Privy Seal to see how things went there, and I find that Mr. Baron had by a severe warrant from the King got possession of the office from his brother Bickerstaffe, which is very strange, and much to our admiration, it being against all open justice. Mr. Moore and I and several others being invited today by Mr. Goodman, a friend of his, we dined at the Bullhead upon the best venison pasty that ever I eat of in my life, and with one dish more, it was the best dinner I ever was at. Here rose in discourse at table a dispute between Mr. Moore and Dr. Clerke, the former affirming that it was essential to a tragedy to have the argument of it true, which the Doctor denied, and left it to me to be judge, and the cause to be determined next Tuesday morning at the same place, upon the eating of the remains of the pasty, and the loser to spend 10s. All this afternoon sending express to the fleet, to order things against my Lord’s coming and taking direction of my Lord about some rich furniture to take along with him for the Princess.671 And talking of this, I hear by Mr. Townsend, that there is the greatest preparation against the Prince de Ligne’s672 coming over from the King of Spain, that ever was in England for their Embassador. Late home, and what with business and my boy’s roguery my mind being unquiet, I went to bed.
. To Westminster, my Lord being gone before my coming to chapel. I and Mr. Sheply told out my money, and made even for my Privy Seal fees and gratuity money, etc., to this day between my Lord and me. After that to chapel, where Dr. Fern,673 a good honest sermon upon “The Lord is my shield.” After sermon a dull anthem, and so to my Lord’s (he dining abroad) and dined with Mr. Sheply. So to St. Margarett’s, and heard a good sermon upon the text “Teach us the old way,” or something like it, wherein he ran over all the new tenets in policy and religion, which have brought us into all our late divisions. From church to Mrs. Crisp’s (having sent Wm. Hewer home to tell my wife that I could not come home tonight because of my Lord’s going out early tomorrow morning), where I sat late, and did give them a great deal of wine, it being a farewell cup to Laud Crisp. I drank till the daughter began to be very loving to me and kind, and I fear is not so good as she should be. To my Lord’s, and to bed with Mr. Sheply.
. Up and to Mr. ⸻, the goldsmith near the new Exchange, where I bought my wedding ring, and there, with much ado, got him to put a gold ring to the jewel, which the King of Sweden674 did give my Lord: out of which my Lord had now taken the King’s picture, and intends to make a George of it. This morning at my Lord’s I had an opportunity to speak with Sir George Downing, who has promised me to give me up my bond, and to pay me for my last quarter while I was at sea, that so I may pay Mr. Moore and Hawly. About noon my Lord, having taken leave of the King in the Shield Gallery (where I saw with what kindness the King did hug my Lord at his parting), I went over with him and saw him in his coach at Lambeth, and there took leave of him, he going to the Downs, which put me in mind of his first voyage that ever he made, which he did begin like this from Lambeth. In the afternoon with Mr. Moore to my house to cast up our Privy Seal accounts, where I found that my Lord’s comes to 400 and odd pounds, and mine to £132, out of which I do give him as good as £25 for his pains, with which I doubt he is not satisfied, but my heart is full glad. Thence with him to Mr. Crew’s, and did fetch as much money as did make even our accounts between him and me. Home, and there found Mr. Cooke come back from my Lord for me to get him some things bought for him to be brought after them, a toilet cap and comb case of silk, to make use of in Holland, for he goes to the Hague, which I can do tomorrow morning. This day my father and my uncle Fenner, and both his sons, have been at my house to see it, and my wife did treat them nobly with wine and anchovies. By reason of my Lord’s going today I could not get the office to meet today.
. I did many things this morning at home before I went out, as looking over the joiners, who are flooring my dining room, and doing business with Sir Williams675 both at the office, and so to Whitehall, and so to the Bullhead, where we had the remains of our pasty, where I did give my verdict against Mr. Moore upon last Saturday’s wager, where Dr. Fuller coming in do confirm me in my verdict. From thence to my Lord’s and despatched Mr. Cooke away with the things to my Lord. From thence to Axe Yard to my house, where standing at the door Mrs. Diana comes by, whom I took into my house upstairs, and there did dally with her a great while, and found that in Latin “Nulla puella negat.” So home by water, and there sat up late setting my papers in order, and my money also, and teaching my wife her music lesson, in which I take great pleasure. So to bed.
. To the office. From thence by coach upon the desire of the principal officers to a Master of Chancery to give Mr. Stowell his oath, whereby he do answer that he did hear Phineas Pett say very high words against the King a great while ago. Coming back our coach broke, and so Stowell and I to Mr. Rawlinson’s, and after a glass of wine parted, and I to the office, home to dinner, where (having put away my boy in the morning) his father brought him again, but I did so clear up my boy’s roguery to his father, that he could not speak against my putting him away, and so I did give him 10s. for the boy’s clothes that I made him, and so parted and tore his indenture. All the afternoon with the principal officers at Sir W. Batten’s about Pett’s business (where I first saw Col. Slingsby,676 who has now his appointment for Comptroller), but did bring it to no issue. This day I saw our Dedimus to be sworn in the peace by, which will be shortly. In the evening my wife being a little impatient I went along with her to buy her a necklace of pearl, which will cost £4 10s., which I am willing to comply with her in for her encouragement, and because I have lately got money, having now above £200 in cash beforehand in the world. Home, and having in our way bought a rabbit and two little lobsters, my wife and I did sup late, and so to bed. Great news now-a-day of the Duke d’Anjou’s677 desire to marry the Princess Henrietta. Hugh Peters is said to be taken,678 and the Duke of Gloucester is ill, and it is said it will prove the smallpox.
. To Whitehall by water with Sir W. Batten, and in our passage told me how Commissioner Pett did pay himself for the entertainment that he did give the King at Chatham at his coming in, and 20s. a day all the time he was in Holland, which I wonder at, and so I see there is a great deal of envy between the two. At Whitehall I met with Commissioner Pett, who told me how Mr. Coventry and Fairbank his solicitor are falling out, one complaining of the other for taking too great fees, which is too true. I find that Commissioner Pett is under great discontent, and is loth to give too much money for his place, and so do greatly desire me to go along with him in what we shall agree to give Mr. Coventry, which I have promised him, but am unwilling to mix my fortune with him that is going down the wind. We all met this morning and afterwards at the Admiralty, where our business is to ask provision of victuals ready for the ships in the Downs, which we did, Mr. Gauden promising to go himself thither and see it done. Dined Will and I at my Lord’s upon a joint of meat that I sent Mrs. Sarah for. Afterwards to my office and sent all my books to my Lord’s, in order to send them to my house that I now dwell in. Home and to bed.
. Not office day, and in the afternoon at home all the day, it being the first that I have been at home all day since I came hither. Putting my papers, books and other things in order, and writing of letters. This day my Lord set sail from the Downs for Holland.
. All day also at home. At night sent for by Sir W. Penn, with whom I sat late drinking a glass of wine and discoursing, and I find him to be a very sociable man, and an able man, and very cunning.
. In the morning with Sir W. Penn to church, and a very good sermon of Mr. Mills. Home to dinner, and Sir W. Penn with me to such as I had, and it was very handsome, it being the first time that he ever saw my wife or house since we came hither. Afternoon to church with my wife, and after that home, and there walked with Major Hart,679 who came to see me, in the garden, who tells me that we are all like to be speedily disbanded,680 and then I lose the benefit of a muster. After supper to bed.
. News of the Duke’s intention to go tomorrow to the fleet for a day or two to meet his sister. Col. Slingsby and I to Whitehall, thinking to proffer our service to the Duke to wait upon him, but meeting with Sir G. Carteret he sent us in all haste back again to hire two Catches for the present use of the Duke. So we returned and landed at the Bear at the Bridge foot,681 where we saw Southwark Fair682 (I having not at all seen Bartholomew Fair), and so to the Tower wharf, where we did hire two catches. So to the office and found Sir W. Batten at dinner with some friends upon a good chine of beef, on which I ate heartily, I being very hungry. Home, where Mr. Snow (whom afterwards we called one another cousin) came to me to see me, and with him and one Shelston, a simple fellow that looks after an employment (that was with me just upon my going to sea last), to a tavern, where till late with them. So home, having drunk too much, and so to bed.
. At Sir W. Batten’s with Sir W. Penn we drank our morning draught, and from thence for an hour in the office and dispatch a little business. Dined at Sir W. Batten’s, and by this time I see that we are like to have a very good correspondence and neighbourhood, but chargeable. All the afternoon at home looking over my carpenters. At night I called Thos. Hater out of the office to my house to sit and talk with me. After he was gone I caused the girl to wash the wainscot of our parlour, which she did very well, which caused my wife and I good sport. Up to my chamber to read a little, and wrote my Diary for three or four days past. The Duke of York did go today by break of day to the Downs. The Duke of Gloucester ill. The House of Parliament was to adjourn today. I know not yet whether it be done or no. To bed.
. This noon I expected to have had my cousin Snow and my father come to dine with me, but it being very rainy they did not come. My brother Tom came to my house with a letter from my brother John, wherein he desires some books: Barthol. Anatom., Rosin. Rom. Antiq., and Gassend. Astronom.,683 the last of which I did give him, and an angel684 against my father buying of the others. At home all the afternoon looking after my workmen, whose laziness do much trouble me. This day the Parliament adjourned.
. Old East comes to me in the morning with letters, and I did give him a bottle of Northdown ale, which made the poor man almost drunk. In the afternoon my wife went to the burial of a child of my cousin Scott’s, and it is observable that within this month my Aunt Wight was brought to bed of two girls, my cousin Stradwick685 of a girl and a boy, and my cousin Scott of a boy, and all died. In the afternoon to Westminster, where Mr. Dalton was ready with his money to pay me for my house, but our writings not being drawn it could not be done today. I met with Mr. Hawly, who was removing his things from Mr. Bowyer’s, where he has lodged a great while, and I took him and W. Bowyer to the Swan and drank, and Mr. Hawly did give me a little black rattoon686 painted and gilt. Home by water. This day the Duke of Gloucester died of the smallpox, by the great negligence of the doctors.687
. I got £42 15s. appointed me by bill for my employment of Secretary to the 4th of this month, it being the last money I shall receive upon that score. My wife went this afternoon to see my mother, who I hear is very ill, at which my heart is very sad. In the afternoon Luellin comes to my house, and takes me out to the Mitre in Wood Street,688 where Mr. Samford, W. Symons and his wife, and Mr. Scobell, Mr. Mount and Chetwind, where they were very merry, Luellin being drunk, and I being to defend the ladies from his kissing them, I kissed them myself very often with a great deal of mirth. Parted very late, they by coach to Westminster, and I on foot.
. Met very early at our office this morning to pick out the twenty-five ships which are to be first paid off. After that to Westminster and dined with Mr. Dalton at his office, where we had one great court dish, but our papers not being done we could [not] make an end of our business till Monday next. Mr. Dalton and I over the water to our landlord Vanly, with whom we agree as to Dalton becoming a tenant. Back to Westminster, where I met with Dr. Castles, who chid me for some errors in our Privy-Seal business; among the rest, for letting the fees of the six judges pass unpaid, which I know not what to say to, till I speak to Mr. Moore. I was much troubled, for fear of being forced to pay the money myself. Called at my father’s going home, and bespoke mourning for myself, for the death of the Duke of Gloucester. I found my mother pretty well. So home and to bed.
. To Dr. Hardy’s church,689 and sat with Mr. Rawlinson and heard a good sermon upon the occasion of the Duke’s death. His text was, “And is there any evil in the city and the Lord hath not done it?” Home to dinner, having some sport with Wm. [Hewer], who never had been at Common Prayer before. After dinner I alone to Westminster, where I spent my time walking up and down in Westminster Abbey till sermon time with Ben. Palmer and Fetters the watchmaker, who told me that my Lord of Oxford690 is also dead of the smallpox; in whom his family dies, after 600 years having that honour in their family and name. From thence to the Park, where I saw how far they had proceeded in the Pell-mell, and in making a river through the Park, which I had never seen before since it was begun.691 Thence to Whitehall Garden, where I saw the King in purple mourning for his brother.692 So home, and in my way met with Dinah, who spoke to me and told me she had a desire to speak too about some business when I came to Westminster again. Which she spoke in such a manner that I was afraid she might tell me something that I would not hear of our last meeting at my house at Westminster. Home late, being very dark. A gentleman in the Poultry had a great and dirty fall over a waterpipe that lay along the channel.
. Office very early about casting up the debts of those twenty-five ships which are to be paid off, which we are to present to the Committee of Parliament. I did give my wife £15 this morning to go to buy mourning things for her and me, which she did. Dined at home and Mr. Moore with me, and afterwards to Whitehall to Mr. Dalton and drank in the Cellar, where Mr. Vanly according to appointment was. Thence forth to see the Prince de Ligne, Spanish Embassador, come in to his audience, which was done in very great state. That being done, Dalton, Vanly, Scrivener and some friends of theirs and I to the Axe, and signed and sealed our writings, and hence to the Wine cellar again, where I received £41 for my interest in my house, out of which I paid my Landlord to Michaelmas next, and so all is even between him and me, and I freed of my poor little house. Home by link with my money under my arm. So to bed after I had looked over the things my wife had bought today, with which being not very well pleased, they costing too much, I went to bed in a discontent. Nothing yet from sea, where my Lord and the Princess are.
. At home all the morning looking over my workmen in my house. After dinner Sir W. Batten, Penn, and myself by coach to Westminster Hall, where we met Mr. Wayte the lawyer to the Treasurer, and so we went up to the Committee of Parliament, which are to consider of the debts of the Army and Navy, and did give in our account of the twenty-five ships. Col. Birch was very impertinent and troublesome. But at last we did agree to fit the accounts of our ships more perfectly for their view within a few days, that they might see what a trouble it is to do what they desire. From thence Sir Williams both going by water home, I took Mr. Wayte to the Rhenish winehouse, and drank with him and so parted. Thence to Mr. Crew’s and spoke with Mr. Moore about the business of paying off Baron our share of the dividend. So on foot home, by the way buying a hat band and other things for my mourning tomorrow. So home and to bed. This day I heard that the Duke of York, upon the news of the death of his brother yesterday, came hither by post last night.
. I put on my mourning and went to the office. At noon thinking to have found my wife in hers, I found that the tailor had failed her, at which I was vexed because of an invitation that we have to a dinner this day, but after having waited till past one o’clock I went, and left her to put on some other clothes and come after me to the Mitre tavern in Wood-street (a house of the greatest note in London), where I met W. Symons, and D. Scobell, and their wives, Mr. Samford, Luellin, Chetwind, one Mr. Vivion, and Mr. White,693 formerly chaplain to the Lady Protectress694 (and still so, and one they say that is likely to get my Lady Francess for his wife). Here we were very merry and had a very good dinner, my wife coming after me hither to us. Among other pleasures some of us fell to handycapp,695 a sport that I never knew before, which was very good. We stayed till it was very late; it rained sadly, but we made shift to get coaches. So home and to bed.
. At home, and at the office, and in the garden walking with both Sir Williams all the morning. After dinner to Whitehall to Mr. Dalton, and with him to my house and took away all my papers that were left in my closet, and so I have now nothing more in the house or to do with it. We called to speak with my Landlord Beale, but he was not within but spoke with the old woman, who takes it very ill that I did not let her have it, but I did give her an answer. From thence to Sir G. Downing and stayed late there (he having sent for me to come to him), which was to tell me how my Lord Sandwich had disappointed him of a ship to bring over his child and goods, and made great complaint thereof; but I got him to write a letter to Lawson,696 which it may be may do the business for him, I writing another also about it. While he was writing, and his Lady and I had a great deal of discourse in praise of Holland. By water to the Bridge, and so to Major Hart’s lodgings in Cannon-street, who used me very kindly with wine and good discourse, particularly upon the ill method which Colonel Birch and the Committee use in defending of the army and the navy; promising the Parliament to save them a great deal of money, when we judge that it will cost the King more than if they had nothing to do with it, by reason of their delays and scrupulous enquiries into the account of both. So home and to bed.
. There all the morning and afternoon till 4 o’clock. Hence to Whitehall, thinking to have put up my books at my Lord’s, but am disappointed from want of a chest which I had at Mr. Bowyer’s. Back by water about 8 o’clock, and upon the water saw the corpse of the Duke of Gloucester brought down Somerset House stairs, to go by water to Westminster, to be buried tonight. I landed at the old Swan697 and went to the Hoop Tavern, and (by a former agreement) sent for Mr. Chaplin, who with Nicholas Osborne and one Daniel came to us and we drank off two or three quarts of wine, which was very good; the drawing of our wine causing a great quarrel in the house between the two drawers which should draw us the best, which caused a great deal of noise and falling out till the master parted them, and came up to us and did give us a large account of the liberty that he gives his servants, all alike, to draw what wine they will to please his customers; and we did eat above 200 walnuts. About 10 o’clock we broke up and so home, and in my way I called in with them at Mr. Chaplin’s, where Nicholas Osborne did give me a barrel of samphire,698 and showed me the keys of Mardyke Fort,699 which he that was commander of the fort sent him as a token when the fort was demolished, which I was mightily pleased to see, and will get them of him if I can. Home, where I found my boy (my maid’s brother) come out of the country today, but was gone to bed and so I could not see him tonight. To bed.
. This morning I called up my boy, and found him a pretty, well-looked boy, and one that I think will please me. I went this morning by land to Westminster along with Luellin, who came to my house this morning to get me to go with him to Capt. Allen to speak with him for his brother to go with him to Constantinople, but could not find him. We walked on to Fleet street, where at Mr. Standing’s in Salsbury Court we drank our morning draught and had a pickled herring. Among other discourse here he told me how the pretty woman that I always loved at the beginning of Cheapside that sells child’s coats was served by the Lady Bennett (a famous strumpet), who by counterfeiting to fall into a swoon upon the sight of her in her shop, became acquainted with her, and at last got her ends of her to lie with a gentleman that had hired her to procure this poor soul for him. To Westminster to my Lord’s, and there in the house of office vomited up all my breakfast, my stomach being ill all this day by reason of the last night’s debauch. Here I sent to Mr. Bowyer’s for my chest and put up my books and sent them home. I stayed here all day in my Lord’s chamber and upon the leads gazing upon Diana, who looked out of a window upon me. At last I went out to Mr. Harper’s, and she standing over the way at the gate, I went over to her and appointed to meet tomorrow in the afternoon at my Lord’s. Here I bought a hanging jack. From thence by coach home (by the way at the New Exchange700 I bought a pair of short black stockings, to wear over a pair of silk ones for mourning; and here I met with The. Turner and Joyce,701 buying of things to go into mourning too for the Duke, which is now the mode of all the ladies in town), where I wrote some letters by the post to Hinchinbroke to let them know that this day Mr. Edw. Pickering is come from my Lord, and says that he left him well in Holland, and that he will be here within three or four days. Today not well of my last night’s drinking yet. I had the boy up tonight for his sister to teach him to put me to bed, and I heard him read, which he did pretty well.
. My wife got up to put on her mourning today and to go to Church this morning. I up and set down my journal for these 5 days past. This morning came one from my father’s with a black cloth coat, made of my short cloak, to walk up and down in. To church my wife and I, with Sir W. Batten, where we heard of Mr. Mills a very good sermon upon these words, “So run that ye may obtain.” After dinner all alone to Westminster. At Whitehall I met with Mr. Pierce and his wife (she newly come forth after childbirth) both in mourning for the Duke of Gloucester. She went with Mr. Child to Whitehall Chapel and Mr. Pierce with me to the Abbey, where I expected to hear Mr. Baxter or Mr. Rowe preach their farewell sermon, and in Mr. Symons’s pew I sat and heard Mr. Rowe. Before sermon I laughed at the reader, who in his prayer desires of God that He would imprint his word on the thumbs of our right hands and on the right great toes of our right feet.702 In the midst of the sermon some plaster fell from the top of the Abbey, that made me and all the rest in our pew afeard, and I wished myself out. After sermon with Mr. Pierce to Whitehall, and from thence to my Lord, but Diana did not come according to our agreement. So calling at my father’s (where my wife had been this afternoon but was gone home) I went home. This afternoon, the King having news of the Princess being come to Margate, he and the Duke of York went down thither in barges to her.
. From thence to dinner by coach with my wife to my Cousin Scott’s, and the company not being come, I went over the way to the Barber’s. So thither again to dinner, where was my uncle Fenner and my aunt, my father and mother, and others. Among the rest my Cousin Rich. Pepys,703 their elder brother, whom I had not seen these fourteen years, ever since he came from New England. It was strange for us to go a gossiping to her, she having newly buried her child that she was brought to bed of. I rose from table and went to the Temple church, where I had appointed Sir W. Batten to meet him; and there at Sir Heneage Finch Solicitor General’s chambers, before him and Sir W. Wilde,704 Recorder of London (whom we sent for from his chamber) we were sworn justices of peace for Middlesex, Essex, Kent, and Southampton; with which honour I did find myself mightily pleased, though I am wholly ignorant in the duty of a justice of peace. From thence with Sir William to Whitehall by water (old Mr. Smith with us) intending to speak with Secretary Nicholas about the augmentation of our salaries, but being forth we went to the Three Tuns tavern, where we drank awhile, and then came in Col. Slingsby and another gentleman and sat with us. From thence to my Lord’s to enquire whether they have had anything from my Lord or no. Knocking at the door, there passed me Mons. L’Impertinent [Mr. Butler] for whom I took a coach and went with him to a dancing meeting in Broad Street,705 at the house that was formerly the glasshouse, Luke Channel,706 Master of the School, where I saw good dancing, but it growing late, and the room very full of people and so very hot, I went home.
. To the office, where Sir W. Batten, Colonel Slingsby,707 and I sat awhile, and Sir R. Ford708 coming to us about some business, we talked together of the interest of this kingdom to have a peace with Spain and a war with France and Holland; where Sir R. Ford talked like a man of great reason and experience. And afterwards I did send for a cup of tee709 (a China drink) of which I never had drank before, and went away. Then came Col. Birch and Sir R. Browne by a former appointment, and with them from Tower wharf in the barge belonging to our office we went to Deptford to pay off the ship Success, which (Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Penn coming afterwards to us) we did, Col. Birch being a mighty busy man and one that is the most indefatigable and forward to make himself work of any man that ever I knew in my life. At the Globe we had a very good dinner, and after that to the pay again, which being finished we returned by water again, and I from our office with Col. Slingsby by coach to Westminster (I setting him down at his lodgings by the way) to inquire for my Lord’s coming thither (the King and the Princess710 coming up the river this afternoon as we were at our pay), and I found him gone to Mr. Crew’s, where I found him well, only had got some corns upon his foot which was not well yet. My Lord told me how the ship that brought the Princess and him (The Tredagh711) did knock six times upon the Kentish Knock,712 which put them in great fear for the ship; but got off well. He told me also how the King had knighted Vice-Admiral Lawson and Sir Richard Stayner. From him late and by coach home, where the plasterers being at work in all the rooms in my house, my wife was fain to make a bed upon the ground for her and me, and so there we lay all night.
. Office day. That done to the church, to consult about our gallery. So home to dinner, where I found Mrs. Hunt, who brought me a letter for me to get my Lord to sign for her husband, which I shall do for her. At home with the workmen all the afternoon, our house being in a most sad pickle. In the evening to the office, where I fell a-reading of Speed’s Geography713 for a while. So home thinking to have found Will at home, but he not being come home but gone somewhere else I was very angry, and when he came did give him a very great check for it, and so I went to bed.
. To my Lord at Mr. Crew’s, and there took order about some business of his, and from thence home to my workmen all the afternoon. In the evening to my Lord’s, and there did read over with him and Dr. Walker my lord’s new commission for sea, and advised thereupon how to have it drawn. So home and to bed.
. This morning Sir W. Batten and Col. Slingsby went with Col. Birch and Sir Wm. Doyly714 to Chatham to pay off a ship there. So only Sir W. Penn and I left here in town. All the afternoon among my workmen till 10 or 11 at night, and did give them drink and very merry with them, it being my luck to meet with a sort of drolling workmen on all occasions. To bed.
. All day at home to make an end of our dirty work of the plasterers, and indeed my kitchen is now so handsome that I did not repent of all the trouble that I have been put to, to have it done. This day or yesterday, I hear, Prince Rupert715 is come to Court; but welcome to nobody.
. To our Parish church both forenoon and afternoon all alone. At night went to bed without prayers, my house being everywhere foul above stairs.
October 1660
. Early to my Lord to Whitehall, and there he did give me some work to do for him, and so with all haste to the office. Dined at home, and my father by chance with me. After dinner he and I advised about hangings for my rooms, which are now almost fit to be hung, the painters beginning to do their work today. After dinner he and I to the Miter, where with my uncle Wight (whom my father fetched thither), while I drank a glass of wine privately with Mr. Mansell, a poor Reformado of the Charles, who came to see me. Here we stayed and drank three or four pints of wine and so parted. I home to look after my workmen, and at night to bed. The Commissioners are very busy disbanding of the army, which they say do cause great robbing. My layings out upon my house in furniture are so great that I fear I shall not be able to go through them without breaking one of my bags of £100, I having but £200 yet in the world.
. With Sir Wm. Penn by water to Whitehall, being this morning visited before I went out by my brother Tom, who told me that for his lying out of doors a day and a night my father had forbade him to come any more into his house, at which I was troubled, and did soundly chide him for doing so, and upon confessing his fault I told him I would speak to my father. At Whitehall I met with Captain Clerk, and took him to the Leg in King Street, and did give him a dish or two of meat, and his purser that was with him, for his old kindness to me on board. After dinner I to Whitehall, where I met with Mrs. Hunt, and was forced to wait upon Mr. Scawen at a committee to speak for her husband, which I did. After that met with Luellin, Mr. Fage, and took them both to the Dog, and did give them a glass of wine. After that at Will’s I met with Mr. Spicer, and with him to the Abbey to see them at vespers. There I found but a thin congregation already. So I see that religion, be it what it will, is but a humour,716 and so the esteem of it passeth as other things do. From thence with him to see Robin Shaw, who has been a long time ill, and I have not seen him since I came from sea. He is much changed, but in hopes to be well again. From thence by coach to my father’s, and discoursed with him about Tom, and did give my advice to take him home again, which I think he will do in prudence rather than put him upon learning the way of being worse. So home, and from home to Major Hart, who is just going out of town tomorrow, and made much of me, and did give me the oaths of supremacy and allegiance, that I may be capable of my arrears. So home again, where my wife tells me what she has bought today, namely, a bed and furniture for her chamber, with which very well pleased I went to bed.
. With Sir W. Batten and Penn by water to Whitehall, where a meeting of the Dukes of York and Albemarle, my Lord Sandwich and all the principal officers, about the Winter Guard, but we determined of nothing. To my Lord’s, who sent a great iron chest to Whitehall; and I saw it carried, into the King’s closet, where I saw most incomparable pictures. Among the rest a book open upon a desk, which I durst have sworn was a real book, and back again to my Lord, and dined all alone with him, who do treat me with a great deal of respect; and after dinner did discourse an hour with me, and advise about some way to get himself some money to make up for all his great expenses, saying that he believed that he might have anything that he would ask of the King. This day Mr. Sheply and all my Lord’s goods came from sea, some of them laid of the Wardrobe and some brought to my Lord’s house. From thence to our office, where we met and did business, and so home and spent the evening looking upon the painters that are at work in my house. This day I heard the Duke speak of a great design that he and my Lord of Pembroke have, and a great many others, of sending a venture to some parts of Africa to dig for gold ore there. They intend to admit as many as will venture their money, and so make themselves a company. £250 is the lowest share for every man. But I do not find that my Lord do much like it. At night Dr. Fairbrother (for so he is lately made of the Civil Law) brought home my wife by coach, it being rainy weather, she having been abroad today to buy more furniture for her house.
. This morning I was busy looking over papers at the office all alone, and being visited by Lieut. Lambert of the Charles (to whom I was formerly much beholden), I took him along with me to a little alehouse hard by our office, whither my cousin Thomas Pepys the turner had sent for me to show me two gentlemen that had a great desire to be known to me, one his name is Pepys, of our family, but one that I never heard of before, and the other a younger son of Sir Tho. Bendishes,717 and so we all called cousins. After sitting awhile and drinking, my two new cousins, myself, and Lieut. Lambert went by water to Whitehall, and from thence I and Lieut. Lambert to Westminster Abbey, where we saw Dr. Frewen718 translated to the Archbishoprick of York. Here I saw the Bishops of Winchester,719 Bangor,720 Rochester,721 Bath and Wells,722 and Salisbury,723 all in their habits, in King Henry Seventh’s chapel. But, Lord! at their going out, how people did most of them look upon them as strange creatures, and few with any kind of love or respect. From thence at 2 to my Lord’s, where we took Mr. Sheply and Wm. Howe to the Raindeer, and had some oysters, which were very good, the first I have eat this year. So back to my Lord’s to dinner, and after dinner Lieut. Lambert and I did look upon my Lord’s model, and he told me many things in a ship that I desired to understand. From thence by water I (leaving Lieut. Lambert at Blackfriars) went home, and there by promise met with Robert Shaw and Jack Spicer, who came to see me, and by the way I met upon Tower Hill with Mr. Pierce the surgeon and his wife, and took them home and did give them good wine, ale, and anchovies, and stayed them till night, and so adieu. Then to look upon my painters that are now at work in my house. At night to bed.
. Office day; dined at home, and all the afternoon at home to see my painters make an end of their work, which they did today to my content, and I am in great joy to see my house likely once again to be clean. At night to bed.
. Col. Slingsby and I at the office getting a catch ready for the Prince de Ligne to carry his things away today, who is now going home again. About noon comes my cousin H. Alcock, for whom I brought a letter for my Lord to sign to my Lord Broghill for some preferment in Ireland, whither he is now a-going. After him comes Mr. Creed, who brought me some books from Holland with him, well bound and good books, which I thought he did intend to give me, but I found that I must pay him. He dined with me at my house, and from thence to Whitehall together, where I was to give my Lord an account of the stations and victuals of the fleet in order to the choosing of a fleet fit for him to take to sea, to bring over the Queen, but my Lord not coming in before 9 at night I stayed no longer for him, but went back again home and so to bed.
. To Whitehall on foot, calling at my father’s to change my long black cloak for a short one (long cloaks being now quite out); but he being gone to church, I could not get one, and therefore I proceeded on and came to my Lord before he went to chapel and so went with him, where I heard Dr. Spurstow724 preach before the King a poor dry sermon; but a very good anthem of Captn. Cooke’s afterwards. Going out of chapel I met with Jack Cole, my old friend (whom I had not seen a great while before), and have promised to renew acquaintance in London together. To my Lord’s and dined with him; he all dinner time talking French to me, and telling me the story how the Duke of York hath got my Lord Chancellor’s daughter with child,725 and that she, do lay it to him, and that for certain he did promise her marriage, and had signed it with his blood, but that he by stealth had got the paper out of her cabinet. And that the King would have him to marry her, but that he will not.726 So that the thing is very bad for the Duke, and them all; but my Lord do make light of it, as a thing that he believes is not a new thing for the Duke to do abroad. Discoursing concerning what if the Duke should marry her, my Lord told me that among his father’s many old sayings that he had wrote in a book of his, this is one—that he that do get a wench with child and marry her afterwards is as if a man should ⸻ in his hat and then clap it on his head. I perceive my Lord is grown a man very indifferent in all matters of religion, and so makes nothing of these things. After dinner to the Abbey, where I heard them read the church-service, but very ridiculously, that indeed I do not in myself like it at all. A poor cold sermon of Dr. Lamb’s,727 one of the prebends, in his habit, came afterwards, and so all ended, and by my troth a pitiful sorry devotion that these men pay. So walked home by land, and before supper I read part of the Marian persecution in Mr. Fuller.728 So to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Office day, and my wife being gone out to buy some household stuff, I dined all alone, and after dinner to Westminster, in my way meeting Mr. Moore coming to me, who went back again with me calling at several places about business, at my father’s about gilded leather for my dining room, at Mr. Crew’s about money, at my Lord’s about the same, but meeting not Mr. Sheply there I went home by water, and Mr. Moore with me, who stayed and supped with me till almost 9 at night. We love one another’s discourse so that we cannot part when we do meet. He tells me that the profit of the Privy Seal is much fallen, for which I am very sorry. He gone and I to bed.
. This morning Sir W. Batten with Colonel Birch to Deptford, to pay off two ships. Sir W. Penn and I stayed to do business, and afterwards together to Whitehall, where I went to my Lord, and found him in bed not well, and saw in his chamber his picture729 very well done; and am with child730 till I get it copied out, which I hope to do when he is gone to sea. To Whitehall again, where at Mr. Coventry’s chamber I met with Sir W. Penn again, and so with him to Redriffe731 by water, and from thence walked over the fields to Deptford (the first pleasant walk I have had a great while), and in our way had a great deal of merry discourse, and find him to be a merry fellow and pretty good natured, and sings very bawdy songs. So we came and found our gentlemen and Mr. Prin at the pay. About noon we dined together, and were very merry at table telling of tales. After dinner to the pay of another ship till 10 at night, and so home in our barge, a clear moonshine night, and it was 12 o’clock before we got home, where I found my wife in bed, and part of our chambers hung today by the upholster, but not being well done I was fretted, and so in a discontent to bed. I found Mr. Prin a good, honest, plain man, but in his discourse not very free or pleasant. Among all the tales that passed among us today, he told us of one Damford, that, being a black man, did scald his beard with mince-pie, and it came up again all white in that place, and continued to his dying day. Sir W. Penn told us a good jest about some gentlemen blinding of the drawer, and who he catched was to pay the reckoning, and so they got away, and the master of the house coming up to see what his man did, his man got hold of him, thinking it to be one of the gentlemen, and told him that he was to pay the reckoning.
. Office day all the morning. In the afternoon with the upholster seeing him do things to my mind, and to my content he did fit my chamber and my wife’s. At night comes Mr. Moore, and stayed late with me to tell me how Sir Hards. Waller732 (who only pleads guilty), Scott,733 Coke,734 Peters,735 Harrison,736 etc. were this day arraigned at the bar at the Sessions House, there being upon the bench the Lord Mayor, General Monk, my Lord of Sandwich, etc.; such a bench of noblemen as had not been ever seen in England! They all seem to be dismayed, and will all be condemned without question. In Sir Orlando Bridgman’s charge,737 he did wholly rip up the unjustness of the war against the King from the beginning, and so it much reflects upon all the Long Parliament, though the King had pardoned them, yet they must hereby confess that the King do look upon them as traitors. Tomorrow they are to plead what they have to say. At night to bed.
. In the morning to my Lord’s, where I met with Mr. Creed, and with him and Mr. Blackburne to the Rhenish wine house, where we sat drinking of healths a great while, a thing which Mr. Blackburne formerly would not upon any terms have done. After we had done there Mr. Creed and I to the Leg in King Street, to dinner, where he and I and my Will had a good udder to dinner, and from thence to walk in St. James’s Park, where we observed the several engines at work to draw up water, with which sight I was very much pleased.738 Above all the rest, I liked best that which Mr. Greatorex brought, which is one round thing going within all with a pair of stairs round; round which being laid at an angle of 45°, do carry up the water with a great deal of ease. Here, in the Park, we met with Mr. Salisbury, who took Mr. Creed and me to the Cockpit739 to see The Moore of Venice, which was well done. Burt acted the Moore;740 by the same token, a very pretty lady that sat by me, called out, to see Desdemona smothered. From thence with Mr. Creed to Hercules Pillars,741 where we drank and so parted, and I went home.
. Office day all the morning, and from thence with Sir W. Batten and the rest of the officers to a venison pasty of his at the Dolphin, where dined withal Col. Washington, Sir Edward Brett, and Major Norwood,742 very noble company. After dinner I went home, where I found Mr. Cooke, who told me that my Lady Sandwich is come to town today, whereupon I went to Westminster to see her, and found her at supper, so she made me sit down all alone with her, and after supper stayed and talked with her, she showing me most extraordinary love and kindness, and do give me good assurance of my uncle’s resolution to make me his heir. From thence home and to bed.
. To my Lord’s in the morning, where I met with Captain Cuttance, but my Lord not being up I went out to Charing Cross, to see Major-general Harrison hanged, drawn, and quartered; which was done there, he looking as cheerful as any man could do in that condition. He was presently cut down, and his head and heart shown to the people, at which there was great shouts of joy. It is said, that he said that he was sure to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to judge them that now had judged him; and that his wife do expect his coming again. Thus it was my chance to see the King beheaded at Whitehall, and to see the first blood shed in revenge for the blood of the King at Charing Cross. From thence to my Lord’s, and took Captain Cuttance and Mr. Sheply to the Sun Tavern, and did give them some oysters. After that I went by water home, where I was angry with my wife for her things lying about, and in my passion kicked the little fine basket, which I bought her in Holland, and broke it, which troubled me after I had done it. Within all the afternoon setting up shelves in my study. At night to bed.
. Early to my Lord’s, in my way meeting with Dr. Fairbrother, who walked with me to my father’s back again, and there we drank my morning draught, my father having gone to church and my mother asleep in bed. Here he caused me to put my hand among a great many honorable hands to a paper or certificate in his behalf. To Whitehall Chapel, where one Dr. Crofts743 made an indifferent sermon, and after it an anthem, ill sung, which made the King laugh. Here I first did see the Princess Royal since she came into England. Here I also observed, how the Duke of York and Mrs. Palmer did talk to one another very wantonly through the hangings that parts the King’s closet and the closet where the ladies sit. To my Lord’s, where I found my wife, and she and I did dine with my Lady (my Lord dining with my Lord Chamberlain), who did treat my wife with a good deal of respect. In the evening we went home through the rain by water in a sculler, having borrowed some coats of Mr. Sheply. So home, wet and dirty, and to bed.
. Office all the morning. My wife and I by water; I landed her at Whitefriars, she went to my father’s to dinner, it being my father’s wedding day, there being a very great dinner, and only the Fenners and Joyces there. This morning Mr. Carew744 was hanged and quartered at Charing Cross; but his quarters, by a great favour, are not to be hanged up. I was forced to go to my Lord’s to get him to meet the officers of the Navy this afternoon, and so could not go along with her, but I missed my Lord, who was this day upon the bench at the Sessions house. So I dined there, and went to Whitehall, where I met with Sir W. Batten and Penn, who with the Comptroller, Treasurer, and Mr. Coventry (at his chamber) made up a list of such ships as are fit to be kept out for the winter guard, and the rest to be paid off by the Parliament when they can get money, which I doubt will not be a great while. That done, I took coach, and called my wife at my father’s, and so homewards, calling at Thos. Pepys the turner’s for some things that we wanted. And so home, where I fell to read The Fruitless Precaution (a book formerly recommended by Dr. Clerke at sea to me), which I read in bed till I had made an end of it, and do find it the best writ tale that ever I read in my life. After that done to sleep, which I did not very well do, because that my wife having a stopping in her nose she snored much, which I never did hear her do before.
. This morning my brother Tom came to me, with whom I made even for my last clothes to this day, and having eaten a dish of anchovies with him in the morning, my wife and I did intend to go forth to see a play at the Cockpit this afternoon, but Mr. Moore coming to me, my wife stayed at home, and he and I went out together, with whom I called at the upholsters and several other places that I had business with, and so home with him to the Cockpit, where, understanding that Wit Without Money745 was acted, I would not stay, but went home by water, by the way reading of the other two stories that are in the book that I read last night, which I do not like so well as it. Being come home, Will. told me that my Lord had a mind to speak with me tonight; so I returned by water, and, coming there, it was only to enquire how the ships were provided with victuals that are to go with him to fetch over the Queen, which I gave him a good account of. He seemed to be in a melancholy humour, which, I was told by W. Howe, was for that he had lately lost a great deal of money at cards, which he fears he do too much addict himself to nowadays. So home by water and to bed.
. Office day. At noon came Mr. Creed to me, whom I took along with me to the Feathers in Fish Street, where I was invited by Captain Cuttance to dinner, a dinner made by Mr. Dawes and his brother. We had two or three dishes of meat well done; their great design was to get me concerned in a business of theirs about a vessel of theirs that is in the service, hired by the King, in which I promise to do them all the service I can. From thence home again with Mr. Crew, where I finding Mrs. The. Turner and her aunt Duke I would not be seen but walked in the garden till they were gone, where Mr. Spong came to me and Mr. Creed, Mr. Spong and I went to our music to sing, and he being gone, my wife and I went to put up my books in order in closet, and I to give her her books. After that to bed.
. This morning, it being expected that Colonel Hacker746 and Axtell747 should die, I went to Newgate, but found they were reprieved till tomorrow. So to my aunt Fenner’s, where with her and my uncle I drank my morning draught. So to my father’s, and did give orders for a pair of black baize linings to be made me for my breeches against tomorrow morning, which was done. So to my Lord’s, where I spoke with my Lord, and he would have had me dine with him, but I went thence to Mr. Blackburne, where I met my wife and my Will’s father and mother (the first time that ever I saw them), where we had a very fine dinner. Mr. Creed was also there. This day by her high discourse I found Mrs. Blackburne to be a very high dame and a costly one. Home with my wife by coach. This afternoon comes Mr. Chaplin and N. Osborn to my house, of whom I made very much, and kept them with me till late, and so to bed. At my coming home I did find that The. Turner hath sent for a pair of doves that my wife had promised her; and because she did not send them in the best cage, she sent them back again with a scornful letter, with which I was angry, but yet pretty well pleased that she was crossed.
. Office in the morning. This morning my dining room was finished with green serge hanging and gilt leather, which is very handsome. This morning Hacker and Axtell were hanged and quartered, as the rest are. This night I sat up late to make up my accounts ready against tomorrow for my Lord. I found him to be above £80 in my debt, which is a good sight, and I bless God for it.
. This morning one came to me to advise with me where to make me a window into my cellar in lieu of one which Sir W. Batten had stopped up, and going down into my cellar to look I stepped into a great heap of ⸻ by which I found that Mr. Turner’s house of office is full and comes into my cellar, which do trouble me, but I shall have it helped. To my Lord’s by land, calling at several places about business, where I dined with my Lord and Lady; when he was very merry, and did talk very high how he would have a French cook, and a master of his horse, and his lady and child to wear black patches; which methought was strange, but he is become a perfect courtier; and, among other things, my Lady saying that she could get a good merchant for her daughter Jem., he answered, that he would rather see her with a pedlar’s pack at her back, so she married a gentleman, than she should marry a citizen. This afternoon, going through London, and calling at Crowe’s the upholster’s, in Saint Bartholomew’s,748 I saw the limbs of some of our new traitors set upon Aldersgate,749 which was a sad sight to see; and a bloody week this and the last have been, there being ten hanged, drawn, and quartered. Home, and after writing a letter to my uncle by the post, I went to bed.
. To the Parish church in the morning, where a good sermon by Mr. Mills. After dinner to my Lord’s, and from thence to the Abbey, where I met Spicer and D. Vines and others of the old crew. So leaving my boy at the Abbey against I came back, we went to Prior’s by the Hall back door, but there being no drink to be had we went away, and so to the Crown in the Palace Yard, I and George Vines by the way calling at their house, where he carried me up to the top of his turret, where there is Cooke’s head set up for a traitor, and Harrison’s set up on the other side of Westminster Hall. Here I could see them plainly, as also a very fair prospect about London. From the Crown to the Abbey to look for my boy, but he was gone thence, and so he being a novice I was at a loss what was become of him. I called at my Lord’s (where I found Mr. Adams, Mr. Sheply’s friend) and at my father’s, but found him not. So home, where I found him, but he had found the way home well enough, of which I was glad. So after supper, and reading of some chapters, I went to bed. This day or two my wife has been troubled with her boils in the old place, which do much trouble her. Today at noon (God forgive me) I strung my lute, which I had not touched a great while before.
. Office day; after that to dinner at home upon some ribs of roast beef from the Cook’s (which of late we have been forced to do because of our house being always under the painters’ and other people’s hands, that we could not dress it ourselves). After dinner to my Lord’s, where I found all preparing for my Lord’s going to sea to fetch the Queen tomorrow. At night my Lord came home, with whom I stayed long, and talked of many things. Among others I got leave to have his picture, that was done by Lilly,750 copied, and talking of religion, I found him to be a perfect Sceptic, and said that all things would not be well while there was so much preaching, and that it would be better if nothing but Homilies751 were to be read in Churches. This afternoon (he told me) there hath been a meeting before the King and my Lord Chancellor, of some Episcopalian and Presbyterian Divines; but what had passed he could not tell me. After I had done talk with him, I went to bed with Mr. Sheply in his chamber, but could hardly get any sleep all night, the bed being ill made and he a bad bedfellow.
. We rose early in the morning to get things ready for My Lord, and Mr. Sheply going to put up his pistols (which were charged with bullets) into the holsters, one of them flew off, and it pleased God that, the mouth of the gun being downwards, it did us no hurt, but I think I never was in more danger in my life, which put me into a great fright. About eight o’clock my Lord went; and going through the garden my Lord met with Mr. William Montagu, who told him of an estate of land lately come into the King’s hands, that he had a mind my Lord should beg. To which end my Lord writ a letter presently to my Lord Chancellor to do it for him, which (after leave taken of my Lord at Whitehall Bridge) I did carry to Warwick House to him; and had a fair promise of him, that he would do it this day for my Lord. In my way thither I met the Lord Chancellor and all the judges riding on horseback and going to Westminster Hall, it being the first day of the term, which was the first time I ever saw any such solemnity. Having done there I returned to Whitehall, where meeting with my brother Ashwell and his cousin Sam. Ashwell and Mr. Mallard, I took them to the Leg in King Street and gave them a dish of meat for dinner and paid for it. From thence going to Whitehall I met with Catan Stirpin in mourning, who told me that her mistress was lately dead of the small pox, and that herself was now married to Monsieur Petit,752 as also what her mistress had left her, which was very well. She also took me to her lodging at an Ironmonger’s in King Street, which was but very poor, and I found by a letter that she showed me of her husband’s to the King, that he is a right Frenchman, and full of their own projects, he having a design to reform the universities, and to institute schools for the learning of all languages, to speak them naturally and not by rule, which I know will come to nothing. From thence to my Lord’s, where I went forth by coach to Mrs. Parker’s with my Lady, and so to her house again. From thence I took my Lord’s picture, and carried it to Mr. de Cretz to be copied. So to Whitehall, where I met Mr. Spong, and went home with him and played, and sang, and eat with him and his mother. After supper we looked over many books, and instruments of his, especially his wooden jack in his chimney, which goes with the smoke, which indeed is very pretty. I found him to be as ingenious and good-natured a man as ever I met with in my life, and cannot admire him enough, he being so plain and illiterate a man as he is. From thence by coach home and to bed, which was welcome to me after a night’s absence.
. I lay and slept long today. Office day. I took occasion to be angry with my wife before I rose about her putting up of half a crown of mine in a paper box, which she had forgot where she had lain it. But we were friends again as we are always. Then I rose to Jack Cole, who came to see me. Then to the office, so home to dinner, where I found Captain Murford, who did put £3 into my hands for a friendship I had done him, but I would not take it, but bade him keep it till he has enough to buy my wife a necklace. This afternoon people at work in my house to make a light in my yard into my cellar. To Whitehall, in my way met with Mr. Moore, who went back with me. He tells me, among other things, that the Duke of York is now sorry for his lying with my Lord Chancellor’s daughter, who is now brought to bed of a boy.753 From Whitehall to Mr. De Cretz, who I found about my Lord’s picture. From thence to Mr. Lilly’s,754 where, not finding Mr. Spong, I went to Mr. Greatorex, where I met him, and so to an alehouse, where I bought of him a drawing-pen; and he did show me the manner of the lamp-glasses, which carry the light a great way, good to read in bed by, and I intend to have one of them. So to Mr. Lilly’s with Mr. Spong, where well received, there being a club tonight among his friends. Among the rest Esquire Ashmole,755 who I found was a very ingenious gentleman. With him we two sang afterward in Mr. Lilly’s study. That done, we all parted; and I home by coach, taking Mr. Booker756 with me, who did tell me a great many fooleries, which may be done by nativities, and blaming Mr. Lilly for writing to please his friends and to keep in with the times (as he did formerly to his own dishonour), and not according to the rules of art, by which he could not well err, as he had done. I set him down at Lime-street end, and so home, where I found a box of Carpenter’s tools sent by my cousin, Thomas Pepys, which I had bespoke of him for to employ myself with sometimes. To bed.
. All day at home doing something in order to the fitting of my house. In the evening to Westminster about business. So home and to bed. This night the vault at the end of the cellar was emptied.
. Office. My father and Dr. Thomas Pepys dined at my house, the last of whom I did almost fox with Margate ale. My father is mightily pleased with my ordering of my house. I did give him money to pay several bills. After that I to Westminster to Whitehall, where I saw the Duke de Soissons757 go from his audience with a very great deal of state: his own coach all red velvet covered with gold lace, and drawn by six barbes, and attended by twenty pages very rich in clothes. To Westminster Hall, and bought, among other books, one of the Life of our Queen,758 which I read at home to my wife; but it was so sillily writ, that we did nothing but laugh at it: among other things it is dedicated to that paragon of virtue and beauty, the Duchess of Albemarle. Great talk as if the Duke of York do now own the marriage between him and the Chancellor’s daughter.
. In London and Westminster all this day paying of money and buying of things for my house. In my going I went by chance by my new Lord Mayor’s house (Sir Richard Browne), by Goldsmith’s Hall, which is now fitting, and indeed is a very pretty house.759 In coming back I called at Paul’s Churchyard and bought Alsted’s Encyclopædia,760 which cost me 38s. Home and to bed, my wife being much troubled with her old pain.
. There came some pills and plaister this morning from Dr. Williams for my wife. I to Westminster Abbey, where with much difficulty, going round by the cloisters, I got in; this day being a great day for the consecrating of five Bishops, which was done after sermon; but I could not get into Henry the Seventh’s chapel. So I went to my Lord’s, where I dined with my Lady, and my young Lord, and Mr. Sidney,761 who was sent for from Twickenham to see my Lord Mayor’s show tomorrow. Mr. Child did also dine with us. After dinner to Whitehall Chapel; my Lady and my Lady Jemimah and I up to the King’s closet (who is now gone to meet the Queen). So meeting with one Mr. Hill, that did know my Lady, he did take us into the King’s closet, and there we did stay all service-time, which I did think a great honour. We went home to my Lord’s lodgings afterwards, and there I parted with my Lady and went home, where I did find my wife pretty well after her physic. So to bed.
. I up early, it being my Lord Mayor’s day,762 (Sir Richd. Browne), and neglecting my office I went to the Wardrobe, where I met my Lady Sandwich and all the children; and after drinking of some strange and incomparable good claret of Mr. Rumball’s he and Mr. Townsend763 did take us, and set the young Lords at one Mr. Nevill’s, a draper in Paul’s churchyard; and my Lady and my Lady Pickering and I to one Mr. Isaacson’s, a linendraper at the Key in Cheapside; where there was a company of fine ladies, and we were very civilly treated, and had a very good place to see the pageants, which were many, and I believe good, for such kind of things, but in themselves but poor and absurd. After the ladies were placed I took Mr. Townsend and Isaacson to the next door, a tavern, and did spend 5s. upon them. The show being done, we got as far as Paul’s with much ado, where I left my Lady in the coach, and went on foot with my Lady Pickering to her lodging, which was a poor one in Blackfryars, where she never invited me to go in at all, which methought was very strange for her to do. So home, where I was told how my Lady Davis764 is now come to our next lodgings, and has locked up the leads door from me, which puts me into so great a disquiet that I went to bed, and could not sleep till morning at it.
. Within all the morning and dined at home, my mind being so troubled that I could not mind nor do anything till I spoke with the Comptroller to whom the lodgings belong. In the afternoon, to ease my mind, I went to the Cockpit all alone, and there saw a very fine play called The Tamer Tamed;765 very well acted. That being done, I went to Mr. Crew’s, where I had left my boy, and so with him and Mr. Moore (who would go a little way with me home, as he will always do) to the Hercules Pillars to drink, where we did read over the King’s declaration in matters of religion, which is come out today, which is very well penned, I think to the satisfaction of most people. So home, where I am told Mr. Davis’s people have broken open the bolt of my chamber door that goes upon the leads, which I went up to see and did find it so, which did still trouble me more and more. And so I sent for Griffith, and got him to search their house to see what the meaning of it might be, but can learn nothing tonight. But I am a little pleased that I have found this out. I hear nothing yet of my Lord, whether he be gone for the Queen from the Downs or no; but I believe he is, and that he is now upon coming back again.
. Much troubled all this morning in my mind about the business of my walk on the leads. I spoke of it to the Comptroller and the rest of the principal officers, who are all unwilling to meddle in anything that may anger my Lady Davis. And so I am fain to give over for the time that she do continue therein. Dined at home, and after dinner to Westminster Hall, where I met with Billing the quaker at Mrs. Michell’s shop, who is still of the former opinion he was of against the clergymen of all sorts, and a cunning fellow I find him to be. Home, and there I had news that Sir W. Penn is resolved to ride to Sir W. Batten’s country house766 tomorrow, and would have me go with him, so I sat up late, getting together my things to ride in, and was fain to cut an old pair of boots to make leathers for those I was to wear. This month I conclude with my mind very heavy for the loss of the leads, as also for the greatness of my late expenses, insomuch that I do not think that I have above £150 clear money in the world, but I have, I believe, got a great deal of good household stuff: I hear today that the Queen is landed at Dover, and will be here on Friday next, November 2nd. My wife has been so ill of late of her old pain that I have not known her this fortnight almost, which is a pain to me.
November 1660
. This morning Sir W. Penn and I were mounted early, and had very merry discourse all the way, he being very good company. We came to Sir W. Batten’s, where he lives like a prince, and we were made very welcome. Among other things he showed us my Lady’s closet, where was great store of rarities; as also a chair, which he calls King Harry’s chair, where he that sits down is catched with two irons, that come round about him, which makes good sport. Here dined with us two or three more country gentlemen; among the rest Mr. Christmas, my old schoolfellow, with whom I had much talk. He did remember that I was a great Roundhead when I was a boy, and I was much afraid that he would have remembered the words that I said the day the King was beheaded (that, were I to preach upon him, my text should be “The memory of the wicked shall rot”); but I found afterwards that he did go away from school before that time.767 He did make us good sport in imitating Mr. Case,768 Ash,769 and Nye,770 the ministers, which he did very well, but a deadly drinker he is, and grown exceeding fat. From his house to an alehouse near the church, where we sat and drank and were merry, and so we mounted for London again, Sir W. Batten with us. We called at Bow and drank there, and took leave of Mr. Johnson of Blackwall, who dined with us and rode with us thus far. So home by moonlight, it being about 9 o’clock before we got home.
. Office. Then dined at home, and by chance Mr. Holliard771 called at dinner time and dined with me, with whom I had great discourse concerning the cure of the King’s evil, which he do deny altogether any effect at all. In the afternoon I went forth and saw some silver bosses put upon my new Bible, which cost me 6s. 6d. the making, and 7s. 6d. the silver, which, with 9s. 6d. the book, comes in all to £1 3s. 6d. From thence with Mr. Cooke that made them, and Mr. Stephens the silversmith to the tavern, and did give them a pint of wine. So to Whitehall, where when I came I saw the boats going very thick to Lambeth, and all the stairs to be full of people. I was told the Queen was a-coming;772 so I got a sculler for sixpence to carry me thither and back again, but I could not get to see the Queen; so come back, and to my Lord’s, where he was come; and I supped with him, he being very merry, telling merry stories of the country mayors, how they entertained the King all the way as he come along; and how the country gentlewomen did hold up their heads to be kissed by the King, not taking his hand to kiss as they should do. I took leave of my Lord and Lady, and so took coach at Whitehall and carried Mr. Childe as far as the Strand, and myself got as far as Ludgate by all the bonfires, but with a great deal of trouble; and there the coachman desired that I would release him, for he durst not go further for the fires. So he would have had a shilling or 6d. for bringing of me so far; but I had but 3d. about me and did give him it. In Paul’s churchyard I called at Kirton’s,773 and there they had got a mass book for me, which I bought and cost me twelve shillings; and, when I came home, sat up late and read in it with great pleasure to my wife, to hear that she was long ago so well acquainted with. So to bed. I observed this night very few bonfires in the City, not above three in all London, for the Queen’s coming; whereby I guess that (as I believed before) her coming do please but very few.
. Saturday. At home all the morning. In the afternoon to Whitehall, where my Lord and Lady were gone to kiss the Queen’s hand. To Westminster Hall, where I met with Tom Doling, and we two took Mrs. Lane to the alehouse, where I made her angry with commending of Tom Newton and her new sweetheart to be both too good for her, so that we parted with much anger, which made Tom and me good sport. So home to write letters by the post, and so to bed.
. In the morn to our own church,774 where Mr. Mills did begin to nibble at the Common Prayer, by saying “Glory be to the Father, etc.” after he had read the two psalms; but the people had been so little used to it, that they could not tell what to answer. This declaration of the King’s do give the Presbyterians some satisfaction, and a pretence to read the Common Prayer, which they would not do before because of their former preaching against it. After dinner to Westminster, where I went to my Lord’s, and having spoke with him, I went to the Abbey, where the first time that ever I heard the organs in a cathedral.775 Thence to my Lord’s, where I found Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and with him and Mr. Sheply, in our way calling at the Bell to see the seven Flanders mares that my Lord has bought lately, where we drank several bottles of Hull ale. Much company I found to come to her, and cannot wonder at it, for she is very pretty and wanton. Hence to my father’s, where I found my mother in greater and greater pain of the stone. I stayed long and drank with them, and so home and to bed. My wife seemed very pretty today, it being the first time I had given her leave to wear a black patch.776
. Being disappointed of money, we failed of going to Deptford to pay off the Henrietta777 today. Dined at home, and at home all day, and at the office at night, to make up an account of what the debts of nineteen of the twenty-five ships that should have been paid off, is increased since the adjournment of the Parliament, they being to sit again tomorrow. This 5th of November is observed exceeding well in the City; and at night great bonfires and fireworks. At night Mr. Moore came and sat with me, and there I took a book and he did instruct me in many law notions, in which I took great pleasure. To bed.
. In the morning with Sir W. Batten and Penn by water to Westminster, where at my Lord’s I met with Mr. Creed. With him to see my Lord’s picture (now almost done), and thence to Westminster Hall, where we found the Parliament met today, and thence meeting with Mr. Chetwind, I took them to the Sun, and did give them a barrel of oysters, and had good discourse; among other things Mr. Chetwind told me how he did fear that this late business of the Duke of York’s would prove fatal to my Lord Chancellor. From thence Mr. Creed and I to Wilkinson’s, and dined together, and in great haste thence to our office, where we met all, for the sale of two ships by an inch of candle778 (the first time that ever I saw any of this kind), where I observed how they do invite one another, and at last how they all do cry779 and we have much to do to tell who did cry last. The ships were the Indian, sold for £1,300, and the Half-Moon, sold for £830. Home, and fell a-reading of the trials of the late men that were hanged for the King’s death, and found good satisfaction in reading thereof. At night to bed, and my wife and I did fall out about the dog’s being put down into the cellar, which I had a mind to have done because of his fouling the house, and I would have my will, and so we went to bed and lay all night in a quarrel. This night I was troubled all night with a dream that my wife was dead, which made me that I slept ill all night.
. This day my father came to dine at my house, but being sent for in the morning I could not stay, but went by water to my Lord, where I dined with him, and he in a very merry humour (present Mr. Borfett780 and Childe) at dinner: he, in discourse of the great opinion of the virtue—gratitude (which he did account the greatest thing in the world to him, and had, therefore, in his mind been often troubled in the late times how to answer his gratitude to the King, who raised his father), did say it was that did bring him to his obedience to the King; and did also bless himself with his good fortune, in comparison to what it was when I was with him in the Sound, when he durst not own his correspondence with the King; which is a thing that I never did hear of to this day before; and I do from this raise an opinion of him, to be one of the most secret men in the world, which I was not so convinced of before. After dinner he bid all go out of the room, and did tell me how the King had promised him £4,000 per annum forever, and had already given him a bill under his hand (which he showed me) for £4,000 that Mr. Fox781 is to pay him. My Lord did advise with me how to get this received, and to put out £3,000 into safe hands at use, and the other he will make use of for his present occasion. This he did advise with me about with much secrecy. After all this he called for the fiddles and books, and we two and W. Howe, and Mr. Childe, did sing and play some psalms of Will. Lawes’s,782 and some songs; and so I went away. So I went to see my Lord’s picture, which is almost done, and do please me very well. Hence to Whitehall to find out Mr. Fox, which I did, and did use me very civilly, but I did not see his lady, whom I had so long known when she was a maid, Mrs. Whittle. From thence meeting my father Bowyer, I took him to Mr. Harper’s, and there drank with him. Among other things in discourse he told me how my wife’s brother had a horse at grass with him, which I was troubled to hear, it being his boldness upon my score. Home by coach, and read late in the last night’s book of Trials, and told my wife about her brother’s horse at Mr. Bowyer’s, who is also much troubled for it, and do intend to go tomorrow to inquire the truth. Notwithstanding this was the first day of the King’s proclamation against hackney coaches coming into the streets to stand to be hired, yet I got one to carry me home.783
. This morning Sir Wm. and the Treasurer and I went by barge with Sir Wm. Doyley and Mr. Prin to Deptford, to pay off the Henrietta, and had a good dinner. I went to Mr. Davys’s and saw his house (where I was once before a great while ago) and I found him a very pretty man. In the afternoon Commissioner Pett and I went on board the yacht, which indeed is one of the finest things that ever I saw for neatness and room in so small a vessel. Mr. Pett is to make one to outdo this for the honour of his country, which I fear he will scarce better.784 From thence with him as far as Ratcliff, where I left him going by water to London, and I (unwilling to leave the rest of the officers) went back again to Deptford, and being very much troubled with a sudden looseness, I went into a little alehouse at the end of Ratcliff, and did give a groat for a pot of ale, and there I did … So went forward in my walk with some men that were going that way a great pace, and in our way we met with many merry seamen that had got their money paid them today. We sat very late doing the work and waiting for the tide, it being moonshine we got to London before two in the morning. So home, where I found my wife up, she showed me her head which was very well dressed today, she having been to see her father and mother. So to bed.
. Lay long in bed this morning though an office day, because of our going to bed late last night. Before I went to my office Mr. Creed came to me about business, and also Mr. Carter, my old Cambridge friend, came to give me a visit, and I did give them a morning draught in my study. So to the office, and from thence to dinner with Mr. Wivell at the Hoop Tavern, where we had Mr. Shepley, Talbot, Adams, Mr. Chaplin and Osborne, and our dinner given us by Mr. Ady and another, Mr. Wine, the King’s fishmonger. Good sport with Mr. Talbot, who eats no sort of fish, and there was nothing else till we sent for a neat’s tongue. From thence to Whitehall where I found my Lord, who had an organ set up today in his dining room, but it seems an ugly one in the form of Bridewell. Thence I went to Sir Harry Wright’s, where my Lord was busy at cards, and so I stayed below with Mrs. Carter and Evans (who did give me a lesson upon the lute), till he came down, and having talked with him at the door about his late business of money, I went to my father’s and stayed late talking with my father about my sister Pall’s coming to live with me if she would come and be as a servant (which my wife did seem to be pretty willing to do today), and he seems to take it very well, and intends to consider of it. Home and to bed.
. Up early. Sir Wm. Batten and I to make up an account of the wages of the officers and mariners at sea, ready to present to the Committee of Parliament this afternoon. Afterwards came the Treasurer and Comptroller, and sat all the morning with us till the business was done. So we broke up, leaving the thing to be wrote over fair and carried to Trinity House for Sir Wm. Batten’s hand. When staying very long I found (as appointed) the Treasurer and Comptroller at Whitehall, and so we went with a foul copy to the Parliament house, where we met with Sir Thos. Clarges and Mr. Spry, and after we had given them good satisfaction we parted. The Comptroller and I to the coffeehouse, where he showed me the state of his case; how the King did owe him about £6,000. But I do not see great likelihood for them to be paid, since they begin already in Parliament to dispute the paying of the just sea-debts, which were already promised to be paid, and will be the undoing of thousands if they be not paid. So to Whitehall to look but could not find Mr. Fox, and then to Mr. Moore at Mr. Crew’s, but missed of him also. So to Paul’s Churchyard, and there bought Montelion,785 which this year do not prove so good as the last was; so after reading it I burnt it. After reading of that and the comedy of the Rump,786 which is also very silly, I went to bed. This night going home, Will and I bought a goose.
. This morning I went to Sir W. Batten’s about going to Deptford tomorrow, and so eating some hog’s pudding of my Lady’s making, of the hog that I saw a fattening the other day at her house, he and I went to Church into our new gallery, the first time it was used, and it not being yet quite finished, there came after us Sir W. Penn, Mr. Davis, and his eldest son. There being no woman this day, we sat in the foremost pew, and behind us our servants, and I hope it will not always be so, it not being handsome for our servants to sit so equal with us. This day also did Mr. Mills begin to read all the Common Prayer, which I was glad of. Home to dinner, and then walked to Whitehall, it being very cold and foul and rainy weather. I found my Lord at home, and after giving him an account of some business, I returned and went to my father’s where I found my wife, and there we supped, and Dr. Thomas Pepys, who my wife told me after I was come home, that he had told my brother Thomas that he loved my wife so well that if she had a child he would never marry, but leave all that he had to my child, and after supper we walked home, my little boy carrying a link, and Will leading my wife. So home and to prayers and to bed. I should have said that before I got to my Lord’s this day I went to Mr. Fox’s at Whitehall, when I first saw his lady, formerly Mrs. Elizabeth Whittle, whom I had formerly a great opinion of, and did make an anagram or two upon her name when I was a boy. She proves a very fine lady, and mother to fine children. Today I agreed with Mr. Fox about my taking of the £4,000 of him that the King had given my Lord.
. Lay long in bed today. Sir Wm. Batten went this morning to Deptford to pay off the Wolf. Mr. Comptroller and I sat a while at the office to do business, and thence I went with him to his house in Lime Street, a fine house, and where I never was before, and from thence by coach (setting down his sister at the new Exchange) to Westminster Hall, where first I met with Jack Spicer and agreed with him to help me to tell money this afternoon. Hence to De Cretz, where I saw my Lord’s picture finished, which do please me very well. So back to the Hall, where by appointment I met the Comptroller, and with him and three or four Parliament men I dined at Heaven, and after dinner called at Will’s on Jack Spicer, and took him to Mr. Fox’s, who saved me the labour of telling me the money by giving me £3,000 by consent (the other £1,000 I am to have on Thursday next), which I carried by coach to the Exchequer, and put it up in a chest in Spicer’s office. From thence walked to my father’s, where I found my wife, who had been with my father today, buying of a tablecloth and a dozen of napkins of diaper the first that ever I bought in my life. My father and I took occasion to go forth, and went and drank at Mr. Standing’s, and there discoursed seriously about my sister’s coming to live with me, which I have much mind for her good to have, and yet I am much afeard of her ill-nature. Coming home again, he and I, and my wife, my mother and Pall, went all together into the little room, and there I told her plainly what my mind was, to have her come not as a sister in any respect, but as a servant, which she promised me that she would, and with many thanks did weep for joy, which did give me and my wife some content and satisfaction. So by coach home and to bed. The last night I should have mentioned how my wife and I were troubled all night with the sound of drums in our ears, which in the morning we found to be Mr. Davys’s jack,787 but not knowing the cause of its going all night, I understand today that they have had a great feast today.
. Early going to my Lord’s I met with Mr. Moore, who was going to my house, and indeed I found him to be a most careful, painful788 and able man in business, and took him by water to the Wardrobe, and showed him all the house; and indeed there is a great deal of room in it, but very ugly till my Lord hath bestowed great cost upon it. So to the Exchequer, and there took Spicer and his fellow clerks to the Dog tavern, and did give them a peck of oysters, and so home to dinner, where I found my wife making of pies and tarts to try her oven with, which she has never yet done, but not knowing the nature of it, did heat it too hot, and so a little overbake her things, but knows how to do better another time. At home all the afternoon. At night made up my accounts of my sea expenses in order to my clearing off my imprest bill of £30 which I had in my hands at the beginning of my voyage; which I intend to show to my Lord tomorrow. To bed.
. But this day was the first that we do begin to sit in the afternoon, and not in the forenoon, and therefore I went into Cheapside to Mr. Beauchamp’s, the goldsmith, to look out a piece of plate to give Mr. Fox from my Lord, for his favour about the £4,000, and did choose a gilt tankard. So to Paul’s Churchyard and bought Cornelianum dolium.789 So home to dinner, and after that to the office till late at night, and so Sir W. Penn, the Comptroller, and I to the Dolphin, where we found Sir W. Batten, who is seldom a night from hence, and there we did drink a great quantity of sack and did tell many merry stories, and in good humours we were all. So home and to bed.
. To Westminster, and it being very cold upon the water I went all alone to the Sun and drank a draught of mulled white wine, and so to Mr. de Cretz, whither I sent for J. Spicer (to appoint him to expect me this afternoon at the office, with the other £1,000 from Whitehall), and here we stayed and did see him give some finishing touches to my Lord’s picture, so at last it is complete to my mind, and I leave mine with him to copy out another for himself, and took the original by a porter with me to my Lord’s, where I found my Lord within, and stayed hearing him and Mr. Child playing upon my Lord’s new organ, the first time I ever heard it. My Lord did this day show me the King’s picture, which was done in Flanders, that the King did promise my Lord before he ever saw him, and that we did expect to have had at sea before the King came to us; but it came but today, and indeed it is the most pleasant and the most like him that ever I saw picture in my life. As dinner was coming on table, my wife came to my Lord’s, and I got her carried in to my Lady, who took physic today, and was just now hiring of a French maid that was with her, and they could not understand one another till my wife came to interpret. Here I did leave my wife to dine with my Lord, the first time he ever did take notice of her as my wife, and did seem to have a just esteem for her. And did myself walk homewards (hearing that Sir W. Penn was gone before in a coach) to overtake him and with much ado at last did in Fleet Street, and there I went in to him, and there was Sir Arnold Brames,790 and we all three to Sir W. Batten’s to dinner, he having a couple of Servants married today; and so there was a great number of merchants, and others of good quality on purpose after dinner to make an offering, which, when dinner was done, we did, and I did give ten shillings and no more, though I believe most of the rest did give more, and did believe that I did so too. From thence to Whitehall again by water to Mr. Fox and by two porters carried away the other £1,000. He was not within himself, but I had it of his kinsman, and did give him £4 and other servants something; but whereas I did intend to have given Mr. Fox himself a piece of plate of £50 I was demanded £100, for the fee of the office at 6d. a pound, at which I was surprised, but, however, I did leave it there till I speak with my Lord. So I carried it to the Exchequer, where at Will’s I found Mr. Spicer, and so lodged it at his office with the rest. From thence after a pot of ale at Will’s I took boat in the dark and went for all that to the old Swan, and so to Sir Wm. Batten’s, and leaving some of the gallants at cards I went home, where I found my wife much satisfied with my Lord’s discourse and respect to her, and so after prayers to bed.
. Up early to my father’s, where by appointment Mr. Moore came to me, and he and I to the Temple, and thence to Westminster Hall to speak with Mr. Wm. Montagu about his looking upon the title of those lands which I do take as security for £3,000 of my Lord’s money. That being done Mr. Moore and I parted, and in the Hall I met with Mr. Fontleroy (my old acquaintance, whom I had not seen a long time), and he and I to the Swan, and in discourse he seems to be wise and say little, though I know things are changed against his mind. Thence home by water, where my father, Mr. Snow, and Mr. Moore did dine with me. After dinner Mr. Snow and I went up together to discourse about the putting out of £80 to a man who lacks the money and would give me £15 per annum for 8 years for it, which I did not think profit enough, and so he seemed to be disappointed by my refusal of it, but I would not now part with my money easily. He seems to do it as a great favour to me to offer to come in upon a way of getting of money, which they call Bottomry,791 which I do not yet understand, but do believe there may be something in it of great profit. After we were parted I went to the office, and there we sat all the afternoon, and at night we went to a barrel of oysters at Sir W. Batten’s, and so home, and I to the setting of my papers in order, which did keep me up late. So to bed.
. In the morning to Whitehall, where I inquired at the Privy Seal Office for a form for a nobleman to make one his Chaplain. But I understanding that there is not any, I did draw up one, and so to my Lord’s, and there I did give him it to sign for Mr. Turner792 to be his first Chaplain. I did likewise get my Lord to sign my last sea accounts, so that I am even to this day when I have received the balance of Mr. Creed. I dined with my Lady and my Lady Pickering, where her son John dined with us, who do continue a fool as he ever was since I knew him. His mother would fain marry him to get a portion for his sister Betty793 but he will not hear of it. Hither came Major Hart this noon, who tells me that the Regiment is now disbanded, and that there is some money coming to me for it. I took him to my Lord to Mr. Crew’s, and from thence with Mr. Shepley and Mr. Moore to the Devil Tavern,794 and there we drank. So home and wrote letters by the post. Then to my lyra viol,795 and to bed.
. In the morning to our own church, where Mr. Powel (a crook legged man that went formerly with me to Paul’s School), preached a good sermon. In the afternoon to our own church and my wife with me (the first time that she and my Lady Batten796 came to sit in our new pew), and after sermon my Lady took us home and there we supped with her and Sir W. Batten, and Penn, and were much made of. The first time that ever my wife was there. So home and to bed.
. After we had done a little at the office this morning, I went with the Treasurer in his coach to Whitehall, and in our way, in discourse, do find him a very good-natured man; and, talking of those men who now stand condemned for murdering the King, he says that he believes that, if the law would give leave, the King is a man of so great compassion that he would wholly acquit them. Going to my Lord’s I met with Mr. Shepley, and so he and I to the Sun, and I did give him a morning draught of Muscadine.797 And so to see my Lord’s picture at De Cretz, and he says it is very like him, and I say so too. After that to Westminster Hall, and there hearing that Sir W. Batten was at the Leg in the Palace,798 I went thither, and there dined with him and some of the Trinity House men who had obtained something today at the House of Lords concerning the Ballast Office. After dinner I went by water to London to the Globe in Cornhill,799 and there did choose two pictures to hang up in my house, which my wife did not like when I came home, and so I sent the picture of Paris back again. To the office, where we sat all the afternoon till night. So home, and there came Mr. Beauchamp to me with the gilt tankard, and I did pay him for it £20. So to my music and sat up late at it, and so to bed, leaving my wife to sit up till 2 o’clock that she may call the wench up to wash.
. About two o’clock my wife wakes me, and comes to bed, and so both to sleep and the wench to wash. I rose and with Will to my Lord’s by land, it being a very hard frost, the first we have had this year. There I stayed with my Lord and Mr. Shepley, looking over my Lord’s accounts and to set matters straight between him and Shepley, and he did commit the viewing of these accounts to me, which was a great joy to me to see that my Lord do look upon me as one to put trust in. Hence to the organ, where Mr. Child and one Mr. Mackworth (who plays finely upon the violin) were playing, and so we played till dinner and then dined, where my Lord in a very good humour and kind to me. After dinner to the Temple, where I met Mr. Moore and discoursed with him about the business of putting out my Lord’s £3,000, and that done, Mr. Shepley and I to the new Playhouse near Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields (which was formerly Gibbon’s tennis-court),800 where the play of Beggar’s Bush801 was newly begun; and so we went in and saw it, it was well acted: and here I saw the first time one Moone,802 who is said to be the best actor in the world, lately come over with the King, and indeed it is the finest playhouse, I believe, that ever was in England. From thence, after a pot of ale with Mr. Shepley at a house hard by, I went by link home, calling a little by the way at my father’s and my uncle Fenner’s, where all pretty well, and so home, where I found the house in a washing pickle, and my wife in a very joyful condition when I told her that she is to see the Queen next Thursday, which puts me in mind to say that this morning I found my Lord in bed late, he having been with the King, Queen, and Princess, at the Cockpit803 all night, where General Monk treated them; and after supper a play, where the King did put a great affront upon Singleton’s804 music, he bidding them stop and bade the French music play, which, my Lord says, do much outdo all ours. But while my Lord was rising, I went to Mr. Fox’s, and there did leave the gilt tankard for Mrs. Fox, and then to the countinghouse to him, who hath invited me and my wife to dine with him on Thursday next, and so to see the Queen and Princesses.
. Lay long in bed. This morning my cousin Thomas Pepys, the turner, sent me a cup of lignum vitae805 for a token. This morning my wife and I went to Paternoster Row, and there we bought some green watered moire for a morning waistcoat. And after that we went to Mr. Cade’s806 to choose some pictures for our house. After that my wife went home, and I to Pope’s Head,807 and bought me an agate hafted knife, which cost me 5s. So home to dinner, and so to the office all the afternoon, and at night to my violin (the first time that I have played on it since I came to this house) in my dining room, and afterwards to my lute there, and I took much pleasure to have the neighbours come forth into the yard to hear me. So down to supper, and sent for the barber, who stayed so long with me that he was locked into the house, and we were fain to call up Griffith, to let him out. So up to bed, leaving my wife to wash herself, and to do other things against tomorrow to go to court.
. This morning came the carpenters to make me a door at the other side of my house, going into the entry, which I was much pleased with. At noon my wife and I walked to the Old Exchange, and there she bought her a white whisk808 and put it on, and I a pair of gloves, and so we took coach for Whitehall to Mr. Fox’s, where we found Mrs. Fox within, and an alderman of London paying £1,000 or £1,500 in gold upon the table for the King, which was the most gold that ever I saw together in my life. Mr. Fox came in presently and did receive us with a great deal of respect; and then did take my wife and I to the Queen’s presence-chamber; where he got my wife placed behind the Queen’s chair, and I got into the crowd, and by and by the Queen and the two Princesses came to dinner. The Queen a very little plain old woman, and nothing more in her presence in any respect nor garb than any ordinary woman. The Princess of Orange I had often seen before. The Princess Henrietta is very pretty, but much below my expectation; and her dressing of herself with her hair frized short up to her ears, did make her seem so much the less to me. But my wife standing near her with two or three black patches on, and well dressed, did seem to me much handsomer than she. Dinner being done, we went to Mr. Fox’s again, where many gentlemen dined with us, and most princely dinner, all provided for me and my friends, but I bringing none but myself and wife, he did call the company to help to eat up so much good victuals. At the end of dinner, my Lord Sandwich’s health was drunk in the gilt tankard that I did give to Mrs. Fox the other day. After dinner I had notice given me by Will my man that my Lord did inquire for me, so I went to find him, and met him and the Duke of York in a coach going towards Charing Cross. I endeavoured to follow them but could not, so I returned to Mr. Fox, and after much kindness and good discourse we parted from thence. I took coach for my wife and me homewards, and I ’light at the Maypole in the Strand,809 and sent my wife home. I to the new playhouse810 and saw part of the Traitor,811 a very good Tragedy; Mr. Moon812 did act the Traitor very well. So to my Lord’s, and sat there with my Lady a great while talking. Among other things, she took occasion to inquire (by Madame Dury’s late discourse with her) how I did treat my wife’s father and mother. At which I did give her a good account, and she seemed to be very well opinioned of my wife. From thence to Whitehall at about 9 at night, and there, with Laud813 the page that went with me, we could not get out of Henry the Eighth’s gallery into the further part of the boarded gallery, where my Lord was walking with my Lord Ormond; and we had a key of Sir S. Morland’s, but all would not do; till at last, by knocking, Mr. Harrison the doorkeeper did open us the door, and, after some talk with my Lord about getting a catch to carry my Lord St. Alban’s814 goods to France, I parted and went home on foot, it being very late and dirty, and so weary to bed.
. This morning standing looking upon the workmen doing of my new door to my house, there comes Captain Straughan the Scot (to whom the King has given half of the money that the two ships lately sold do bring), and he would needs take me to the Dolphin, and give me a glass of ale and a peck of oysters, he and I. He did talk much what he is able to advise the King for good husbandry in his ships, as by ballasting them with lead ore and many other tricks, but I do believe that he is a knowing man in sea-business. Home and dined, and in the afternoon to the office, where till late, and that being done Mr. Creed did come to speak with me, and I took him to the Dolphin, where there was Mr. Pierce the purser and his wife and some friends of theirs. So I did spend a crown upon them behind the bar, they being akin to the people of the house, and this being the house where Mr. Pierce was apprentice. After they were gone Mr. Creed and I spent an hour in looking over the account which he do intend to pass in our office for his lending moneys, which I did advise about and approve or disapprove of as I saw cause. After an hour being serious at this we parted about 11 o’clock at night. So I home and to bed, leaving my wife and the maid at their linen to get up.
. To my Lord’s, where after I had done talking with him Mr. Townsend, Rumball, Blackburn, Creed and Shepley and I to the Rhenish winehouse, and there I did give them two quarts of Wormwood wine,815 and so we broke up. So we parted, and I and Mr. Creed to Westminster Hall and looked over a book or two, and so to my Lord’s, where I dined with my lady, there being Mr. Child and Mrs. Borfett, who are never absent at dinner there, under pretence of a wooing. From thence I to Mr. de Cretz and did take away my Lord’s picture, which is now finished for me, and I paid £3 10s. for it and the frame, and am well pleased with it and the price. So carried it home by water, Will being with me. At home, and had a fire made in my closet, and put my papers and books and things in order, and that being done I fell to entering these two good songs of Mr. Lawes, “Help, Help, O Help,” and “O God of Heaven and Hell” in my song book,816 to which I have got Mr. Child to set the base to the Theorbo, and that done to bed.
. In the forenoon I alone to our church, and after dinner I went and ranged about to many churches, among the rest to the Temple, where I heard Dr. Wilkins817 a little (late Maister of Trinity in Cambridge). That being done to my father’s to see my mother who is troubled much with the stone, and that being done I went home, where I had a letter brought me from my Lord to get a ship ready to carry the Queen’s things over to France, she being to go within five or six days. So to supper and to bed.
. To it all the morning, and dined at home where my father come and dined with me, who seems to take much pleasure to have a son that is neat in his house. I being now making my new door into the entry, which he do please himself much with. After dinner to the office again, and there till night. And that being done the Comptroller and I to the Mitre to a glass of wine, when we fell into a discourse of poetry, and he did repeat some verses of his own making which were very good. Home, there hear that my Lady Batten had given my wife a visit (the first that ever she made her), which pleased me exceedingly. So after supper to bed.
. To Whitehall, where I found my Lord gone abroad to the Wardrobe, whither he do now go every other morning, and do seem to resolve to understand and look after the business himself. From thence to Westminster Hall, and in King Street there being a great stop of coaches, there was a falling out between a drayman and my Lord Chesterfield’s coachman, and one of his footmen killed. At the Hall I met with Mr. Creed, and he and I to Hell to drink our morning draught, and so to my Lord’s again, where I found my wife, and she and I dined with him and my Lady, and great company of my Lord’s friends, and my Lord did show us great respect. Soon as dinner was done my wife took her leave, and went with Mr. Blackburne and his wife to London to a christening of a Brother’s child of his on Tower Hill, and I to a play, The Scornful Lady,818 and that being done, I went homewards, and met Mr. Moore, who had been at my house, and took him to my father’s, and we three to Standing’s to drink. Here Mr. Moore told me how the House had this day voted the King to have all the Excise forever. This day I do also hear that the Queen’s going to France is stopped, which do like me well, because then the King will be in town the next month, which is my month again at the Privy Seal. From thence home, where when I come I do remember that I did leave my boy Waineman at Whitehall with order to stay there for me in the court, at which I was much troubled, but about 11 o’clock at night the boy came home well, and so we all to bed.
. This morning went to Whitehall to my Lord’s, where Major Hart did pay me £23 14s. 9d., due to me upon my pay in my Lord’s troop at the time of our disbanding, which is a great blessing to have without taking any law in the world for. But now I must put an end to any hopes of getting any more, so that I bless God for this. From thence with Mr. Shepley and Pinkney to the Sun, and did give them a glass of wine and a peck of oysters for joy of my getting this money. So home, where I found that Mr. Creed had sent me the £11 5s. that is due to me upon the remains of account for my sea business, which is also so much clear money to me, and my bill of impress819 for £30 is also cleared, so that I am wholly clear as to the sea in all respects. To the office, and was there till late at night, and among the officers do hear that they may have our salaries allowed by the Treasurer, which do make me very glad, and praise God for it. Home to supper, and Mr. Hater supped with me, whom I did give order to take up my money of the Treasurer tomorrow if it can be had. So to bed.
. In the morning seeing a great deal of foul water come into my parlour from under the partition between me and Mr. Davis, I did step thither to him and tell him of it, and he did seem very ready to have it stopped, and did also tell me how thieves did attempt to rob his house last night, which do make us all afraid. This noon I being troubled that the workmen that I have to do my door were called to Mr. Davis’s away, I sent for them, when Mr. Davis sent to inquire a reason of, and I did give him a good one, that they were come on purpose to do some work with me that they had already begun, with which he was well pleased, and I glad, being unwilling to anger them. In the afternoon Sir W. Batten and I met and did sell the ship Church for £440; and we asked £391, and that being done, I went home, and Dr. Petty came to me about Mr. Barlow’s money, and I being a little troubled to be so importuned before I had received it, and that they would have it stopped in Mr. Fenn’s hands, I did force the Doctor to go fetch the letter of attorney that he had to receive it only to make him same labour, which he did bring, and Mr. Hales came along with him from the Treasury with my money for the first quarter (Michaelmas last) that ever I received for this employment. So I paid the Dr. £25 and had £62 10s. for myself, and £7 10s. to myself also for Will’s salary, which I do intend yet to keep for myself. With this my heart is much rejoiced, and do bless Almighty God that he is pleased to send so sudden and unexpected payment of my salary so soon after my great disbursements. So that now I am worth £200 again. In a great ease of mind and spirit I fell about the auditing of Mr. Shepley’s last accounts with my Lord by my Lord’s desire, and about that I sat till 12 o’clock at night, till I began to doze, and so to bed, with my heart praising God for his mercy to us.
. To the office, where Sir G. Carteret did give us an account how Mr. Holland820 do intend to prevail with the Parliament to try his project of discharging the seamen all at present by ticket,821 and so promise interest to all men that will lend money upon them at eight percent, for so long as they are unpaid; whereby he do think to take away the growing debt, which do now lie upon the kingdom for lack of present money to discharge the seamen. But this we are troubled at as some diminution to us. I having two barrels of oysters at home, I caused one of them and some wine to be brought to the inner room in the office, and there the Principal Officers did go and eat them. So we sat till noon, and then to dinner, and to it again in the afternoon till night. At home I sent for Mr. Hater, and broke the other barrel with him, and did afterwards sit down discoursing of sea terms to learn of him. And he being gone I went up and sat till twelve at night again to make an end of my Lord’s accounts, as I did the last night. Which at last I made a good end of, and so to bed.
December 1660
. This morning, observing some things to be laid up not as they should be by the girl, I took a broom and basted her till she cried extremely, which made me vexed, but before I went out I left her appeased. So to Whitehall, where I found Mr. Moore attending for me at the Privy Seal, but nothing to do today. I went to my Lord St. Albans lodgings, and found him in bed, talking to a priest (he looked like one) that leaned along over the side of the bed, and there I desired to know his mind about making the catch stay longer, which I got ready for him the other day. He seems to be a fine civil gentleman. To my Lord’s, and did give up my audit of his accounts, which I had been then two days about, and was well received by my Lord. I dined with my Lord and Lady, and we had a venison pasty. Mr. Shepley and I went into London, and calling upon Mr. Pinkney,822 the goldsmith, he took us to the tavern, and gave us a pint of wine, and there fell into our company old Mr. Flower and another gentleman; who tell us how a Scotch knight was killed basely the other day at the Fleece in Covent Garden,823 where there had been a great many formerly killed. So to Paul’s Churchyard, and there I took the little man at Mr. Kirton’s and Mr. Shepley to Ringstead’s at the Star, and after a pint of wine I went home, my brains somewhat troubled with so much wine, and after a letter or two by the post I went to bed.
. My head not very well, and my body out of order by last night’s drinking, which is my great folly. To church, and Mr. Mills made a good sermon; so home to dinner. My wife and I all alone to a leg of mutton, the sauce of which being made sweet, I was angry at it, and eat none, but only dined upon the marrow bone that we had beside. To church in the afternoon, and after sermon took Tom Fuller’s Church History and read over Henry the 8th’s life in it, and so to supper and to bed.
. This morning I took a resolution to rise early in the morning, and so I rose by candle, which I have not done all this winter, and spent my morning in fiddling till time to go to the office, where Sir G. Carteret did begin again discourse on Mr. Holland’s proposition, which the King do take very ill, and so Sir George in lieu of that do propose that the seamen should have half in ready money and tickets for the other half, to be paid in three months after, which we judge to be very practicable. After office home to dinner, where come in my cousin Snow by chance, and I had a very good capon to dinner. So to the office till night, and so home, and then come Mr. Davis, of Deptford (the first time that ever he was at my house), and after him Mons. L’Impertinent, who is to go to Ireland tomorrow, and so came to take his leave of me. They both found me under the barber’s hand; but I had a bottle of good sack in the house, and so made them very welcome. Mr. Davis sat with me a good while after the other was gone, talking of his hard usage and of the endeavour to put him out of his place in the time of the late Commissioners, and he do speak very highly of their corruption. After he was gone I fell a reading Cornelianum dolium till 11 o’clock at night with great pleasure, and after that to bed.
. To Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret’s chamber, where all the officers met, and so we went up to the Duke of York, and he took us into his closet, and we did open to him our project of stopping the growing charge of the fleet by paying them in hand one moyety, and the other four months hence. This he do like, and we returned by his order to Sir G. Carteret’s chamber, and there we did draw up this design in order to be presented to the Parliament. From thence I to my Lord’s, and dined with him and told him what we had done today. Sir Tho. Crew dined with my Lord today, and we were very merry with Mrs. Borfett, who dined there still as she has always done lately. After dinner Sir Tho. and my Lady to the Playhouse to see The Silent Woman.824 I home by water, and with Mr. Hater in my chamber all alone he and I did put this morning’s design into order, which being done I did carry it to Sir W. Batten, where I found some gentlemen with him (Sir W. Penn among the rest pretty merry with drink) playing at cards, and there I stayed looking upon them till one o’clock in the morning, and so Sir W. Penn and I went away, and I to bed. This day the Parliament voted that the bodies of Oliver, Ireton, Bradshaw, etc., should be taken up out of their graves in the Abbey,825 and drawn to the gallows, and there hanged and buried under it: which (methinks) do trouble me that a man of so great courage as he was, should have that dishonour, though otherwise he might deserve it enough.
. This morning the Proposal which I wrote the last night I showed to the officers this morning, and was well liked of, and I wrote it fair for Sir. G. Carteret to show to the King, and so it is to go to the Parliament. I dined at home, and after dinner I went to the new Theatre826 and there I saw The Merry Wives of Windsor acted, the humours of the country gentleman and the French doctor very well done, but the rest but very poorly, and Sir J. Falstaffe827 as bad as any. From thence to Mr. Will. Montagu’s chamber to have sealed some writings tonight between Sir R. Parkhurst and myself about my Lord’s £2,000, but he not coming, I went to my father’s and there found my mother still ill of the stone, and had just newly voided one, which she had let drop into the chimney, and looked and found it to show it me. From thence home and to bed.
. This morning some of the Commissioners of Parliament and Sir W. Batten went to Sir G. Carteret’s office here in town, and paid off the Chesnut. I carried my wife to White Friars and landed her there, and myself to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, where abundance of pardons to seal, but I was much troubled for it because that there are no fees now coming for them to me. Thence Mr. Moore and I alone to the Leg in King Street, and dined together on a neat’s tongue and udder. From thence by coach to Mr. Crew’s to my Lord, who told me of his going out of town tomorrow to settle the militia in Huntingdonshire, and did desire me to lay up a box of some rich jewels and things that there are in it, which I promised to do. After much free discourse with my Lord, who tells me his mind as to his enlarging his family, etc., and desiring me to look him out a Master of the Horse and other servants, we parted. From thence I walked to Greatorex (he was not within), but there I met with Mr. Jonas Moore,828 and took him to the Five Bells,829 and drank a glass of wine and left him. To the Temple, when Sir R. Parkhurst (as was intended the last night) did seal the writings, and is to have the £2,000 told tomorrow. From thence by water to Parliament Stairs, and there at an alehouse to Doling (who is suddenly to go into Ireland to venture his fortune); Simonds (who is at a great loss for £200 present money, which I was loth to let him have, though I could now do it, and do love him and think him honest and sufficient, yet lothness to part with money did dissuade me from it); Luellin (who was very drowsy from a dose that he had got the last night), Mr. Mount and several others, among the rest one Mr. Pierce, an army man, who did make us the best sport for songs and stories in a Scotch tone (which he do very well) that ever I heard in my life. I never knew so good a companion in all my observation. From thence to the bridge by water, it being a most pleasant moonshine night, with a waterman who did tell such a company of bawdy stories, how once he carried a lady from Putney in such a night as this, and she bade him lie down by her, which he did, and did give her content, and a great deal more roguery. Home and found my girl knocking at the door (it being 11 o’clock at night), her mistress having sent her out for some trivial business, which did vex me when I came in, and so I took occasion to go up and to bed in a pet. Before I went forth this morning, one came to me to give me notice that the justices of Middlesex do meet tomorrow at Hicks Hall,830 and that I as one am desired to be there, but I fear I cannot be there though I much desire it.
. This morning the judge Advocate Fowler came to see me, and he and I sat talking till it was time to go to the office. To the office and there stayed till past 12 o’clock, and so I left the Comptroller and Surveyor and went to Whitehall to my Lord’s, where I found my Lord gone this morning to Huntingdon, as he told me yesterday he would. I stayed and dined with my Lady, there being Laud the page’s mother831 there, and dined also with us, and seemed to have been a very pretty woman and of good discourse. Before dinner I examined Laud in his Latin and found him a very pretty boy and gone a great way in Latin. After dinner I took a box of some things of value that my Lord had left for me to carry to the Exchequer, which I did, and left them with my Brother Spicer, who also had this morning paid £1,000 for me by appointment to Sir R. Parkhurst. So to the Privy Seal, where I signed a deadly number of pardons, which do trouble me to get nothing by. Home by water, and there was much pleased to see that my little room is likely to come to be finished soon. I fell a-reading Fuller’s History of Abbeys,832 and my wife in Great Cyrus833 till twelve at night, and so to bed.
. To Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and thence to Mr. Pierce’s the Surgeon to tell them that I would call by and by to go to dinner. But I going into Westminster Hall met with Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Penn (who were in a great fear that we had committed a great error of £100,000 in our late account gone into the Parliament in making it too little), and so I was fain to send order to Mr. Pierce’s to come to my house; and also to leave the key of the chest with Mr. Spicer; wherein my Lord’s money is, and went along with Sir W. Penn by water to the office, and there with Mr. Huchinson we did find that we were in no mistake. And so I went to dinner with my wife and Mr. and Mrs. Pierce the Surgeon to Mr. Pierce, the Purser (the first time that ever I was at his house) who does live very plentifully and finely. We had a lovely chine of beef and other good things very complete and drank a great deal of wine, and her daughter played after dinner upon the virginals,834 and at night by lantern home again, and Mr. Pierce and his wife being gone home I went to bed, having drunk so much wine that my head was troubled and was not very well all night, and the wind I observed was rose exceedingly before I went to bed.
. Being called up early by Sir W. Batten I rose and went to his house and he told me the ill news that he had this morning from Woolwich, that the Assurance835 (formerly Captain Holland’s ship, and now Captain Stoakes’s,836 designed for Guinea and manned and victualled), was by a gust of wind sunk down to the bottom. Twenty men drowned. Sir Williams both went by barge thither to see how things are, and I am sent to the Duke of York to tell him, and by boat with some other company going to Whitehall from the Old Swan. I went to the Duke. And first calling upon Mr. Coventry at his chamber, I went to the Duke’s bedside, who had sat up late last night, and lay long this morning, who was much surprised, therewith. This being done I went to chapel, and sat in Mr. Blagrave’s pew, and there did sing my part along with another before the King, and with much ease. From thence going to my Lady I met with a letter from my Lord (which Andrew had been at my house to bring me and missed me), commanding me to go to Mr. Denham,837 to get a man to go to him tomorrow to Hinchinbroke, to contrive with him about some alterations in his house, which I did and got Mr. Kennard.838 Dined with my Lady and stayed all the afternoon with her, and had infinite of talk of all kind of things, especially of beauty of men and women, with which she seems to be much pleased to talk of. From thence at night to Mr. Kennard and took him to Mr. Denham, the Surveyor’s. Where, while we could not speak with him, his chief man (Mr. Cooper) did give us a cup of good sack. From thence with Mr. Kennard to my Lady who is much pleased with him, and after a glass of sack there; we parted, having taken order for a horse or two for him and his servant to be gone tomorrow. So to my father’s, where I sat while they were at supper, and I found my mother below stairs and pretty well. Thence home, where I hear that the Comptroller had some business with me, and (with Giffin’s lantern) I went to him and there stayed in discourse an hour ’till late, and among other things he showed me a design of his, by the King’s making an Order of Knights of the Sea,839 to give an encouragement for persons of honour to undertake the service of the sea, and he had done it with great pains and very ingeniously. So home and to prayers and to bed.
. Up exceedingly early to go to the Comptroller, but he not being up and it being a very fine, bright, moonshine morning I went and walked all alone twenty turns in Cornhill, from Gracious Street corner to the Stockes840 and back again, from 6 o’clock till past 7, so long that I was weary, and going to the Comptroller’s thinking to find him ready, I found him gone, at which I was troubled, and being weary went home, and from thence with my wife by water to Westminster, and put her to my father Bowyer’s (they being newly come out of the country), but I could not stay there, but left her there. I to the Hall and there met with Col. Slingsby. So hearing that the Duke of York is gone down this morning to see the ship sunk yesterday at Woolwich, he and I returned by his coach to the office, and after that to dinner. After dinner he came to me again and sat with me at my house, and among other discourse he told me that it is expected that the Duke will marry the Lord Chancellor’s daughter at last which is likely to be the ruin of Mr. Davis and my Lord Barkley, who have carried themselves so high against the Chancellor; Sir Chas. Barkley swearing that he and others had lain with her often, which all believe to be a lie.841 He and I in the evening to the Coffee House in Cornhill, the first time that ever I was there, and I found much pleasure in it, through the diversity of company and discourse. Home and found my wife at my Lady Batten’s, and have made a bargain to go see the ship sunk at Woolwich, where both the Sir Williams are still since yesterday, and I do resolve to go along with them. From thence home and up to bed, having first been into my study, and to ease my mind did go to cast up how my cash stands, and I do find as near as I can that I am worth in money clear £240, for which God be praised. This afternoon there was a couple of men with me with a book in each of their hands, demanding money for pollmoney,842 and I overlooked the book and saw myself set down Samuel Pepys, gent. 10s. for himself and for his servants 2s., which I did presently pay without any dispute, but I fear I have not escaped so, and therefore I have long ago laid by £10 for them, but I think I am not bound to discover myself.
. My wife and I up very early this day, and though the weather was very bad and the wind high, yet my Lady Batten and her maid and we two did go by our barge to Woolwich (my Lady being very fearful) where we found both Sir Williams and much other company, expecting the weather to be better, that they might go about weighing up the Assurance, which lies there (poor ship, that I have been twice merry in, in Captn. Holland’s time), under water, only the upper deck may be seen and the masts. Captain Stoakes is very melancholy, and being in search for some clothes and money of his, which he says he hath lost out of his cabin. I did the first office of a justice of Peace to examine a seaman thereupon, but could find no reason to commit him. This last tide the Kingsale was also run aboard and lost her mainmast, by another ship, which makes us think it ominous to the Guinea voyage, to have two of her ships spoilt before they go out. After dinner, my Lady being very fearful she stayed and kept my wife there, and I and another gentleman, a friend of Sir W. Penn’s, went back in the barge, very merry by the way, as far as Whitehall in her. To the Privy Seal, where I signed many pardons and some few things else. From thence Mr. Moore and I into London to a tavern near my house, and there we drank and discoursed of ways how to put out a little money to the best advantage, and at present he has persuaded me to put out £250 for £50 per annum for eight years, and I think I shall do it. Thence home, where I found the wench washing, and I up to my study, and there did make up an even £100, and sealed it to lie by. After that to bed.
. Troubled with the absence of my wife. This morning I went (after the Comptroller and I had sat an hour at the office) to Whitehall to dine with my Lady, and after dinner to the Privy Seal and sealed abundance of pardons and little else. From thence to the Exchequer and did give my mother Bowyer a visit and her daughters, the first time that I have seen them since I went last to sea. From thence up with J. Spicer to his office and took £100, and by coach with it as far as my father’s, where I called to see them, and my father did offer me six pieces of gold,843 in lieu of six pounds that he borrowed of me the other day, but it went against me to take it of him and therefore did not, though I was afterwards a little troubled that I did not. Thence home, and took out this £100 and sealed it up with the other last night, it being the first £200 that ever I saw together of my own in my life. For which God be praised. So to my Lady Batten, and sat an hour or two, and talked with her daughter and people in the absence of her father and mother and my wife to pass away the time. After that home and to bed, reading myself asleep, while the wench sat mending my breeches by my bedside.
. All the day long looking upon my workmen who this day began to paint my parlour. Only at noon my Lady Batten and my wife came home, and so I stepped to my Lady’s, where were Sir John Lawson and Captain Holmes, and there we dined and had very good red wine of my Lady’s own making in England.
. Also all this day looking upon my workmen. Only met with the Comptroller at the office a little both forenoon and afternoon, and at night step a little with him to the Coffee House844 where we light upon very good company and had very good discourse concerning insects and their having a generative faculty as well as other creatures. This night in discourse the Comptroller told me among other persons that were heretofore the principal officers of the Navy, there was one Sir Peter Buck,845 a Clerk of the Acts, of which to myself I was not a little proud.
. All day at home looking upon my workmen, only at noon Mr. Moore came and brought me some things to sign for the Privy Seal and dined with me. We had three eels that my wife and I bought this morning of a man, that cried them about, for our dinner, and that was all I did today.
. In the morning to church, and then dined at home. In the afternoon I to Whitehall, where I was surprised with the news of a plot against the King’s person and my Lord Monk’s; and that since last night there are about forty taken up on suspicion; and, amongst others, it was my lot to meet with Simon Beale,846 the Trumpeter, who took me and Tom Doling into the Guard in Scotland Yard, and showed us Major-General Overton, where I heard him deny that he is guilty of any such things; but that whereas it is said that he is found to have brought many arms to town, he says it is only to sell them, as he will prove by oath. From thence with Tom Doling and Boston and D. Vines (whom we met by the way) to Price’s, and there we drank, and in discourse I learnt a pretty trick to try whether a woman be a maid or no, by a string going round her head to meet at the end of her nose, which if she be not will come a great way beyond. Thence to my Lady’s and stayed with her an hour or two talking of the Duke of York and his lady, the Chancellor’s daughter, between whom, she tells me, that all is agreed and he will marry her. But I know not how true yet. It rained hard, and my Lady would have had me have the coach, but I would not, but to my father’s, where I met my wife, and there supped, and after supper by link home and to bed.
. All day looking after my workmen, only in the afternoon to the office where both Sir Williams were come from Woolwich, and tell us that, contrary to their expectations, the Assurance is got up, without much damage to her body, only to the goods that she hath within her, which argues her to be a strong, good ship. This day my parlour is gilded, which do please me well.
. All day at home, without stirring at all, looking after my workmen.
. At noon I went and dined with my Lady at Whitehall, and so back again to the office, and after that home to my workmen. This night Mr. Gauden sent me a great chine of beef and half a dozen of tongues.
. All day at home with my workmen, that I may get all done before Christmas. This day I hear that the Princess Royal has the small pox.
. By water to Whitehall (leaving my wife at Whitefriars going to my father’s to buy her a muff and mantle), there I signed many things at the Privy Seal, and carried £200 from thence to the Exchequer, and laid it up with Mr. Hales, and afterwards took him and W. Bowyer to the Swan and drank with them. They told me that this is St. Thomas’s, and that by an old custom, this day the Exchequer men had formerly, and do intend this night to have a supper; which if I could I promised to come to, but did not. To my Lady’s, and dined with her: she told me how dangerously ill the Princess Royal is and that this morning she was said to be dead. But she hears that she hath married herself to young Jermyn,847 which is worse than the Duke of York’s marrying the Chancellor’s daughter, which is now publicly owned. After dinner to the office all the afternoon. At seven at night I walked through the dirt to Whitehall to see whether my Lord be come to town, and I found him come and at supper, and I supped with him. He tells me that my aunt at Brampton has voided a great stone (the first time that ever I heard she was troubled therewith) and cannot possibly live long, that my uncle is pretty well, but full of pain still. After supper home and to bed.
. All the morning with my painters, who will make an end of all this day I hope. At noon I went to the Sun Tavern, on Fish Street hill, to a dinner of Captn. Teddimans, where was my Lord Inchiquin848 (who seems to be a very fine person), Sir W. Penn, Captn. Cuttance, and one Mr. Lawrence849 (a fine gentleman now going to Algiers), and other good company, where we had a very fine dinner, good music, and a great deal of wine. We stayed here very late, at last Sir W. Penn and I home together, he so overcome with wine that he could hardly go; I was forced to lead him through the streets and he was in a very merry and kind mood. I home (found my house clear of the workmen and their work ended), my head troubled with wine, and I very merry went to bed, my head aching all night.
. In the morning to Church, where our pew all covered with rosemary and baize. A stranger made a dull sermon. Home and found my wife and maid with much ado had made shift to spit a great turkey sent me this week from Charles Carter, my old colleague, now minister in Huntingdonshire, but not at all roasted, and so I was fain to stay till two o’clock, and after that to church with my wife, and a good sermon there was, and so home. All the evening at my book, and so to supper and to bed.
. In the morning to the office and Commissioner Pett (who seldom comes there) told me that he had lately presented a piece of plate (being a couple of flagons) to Mr. Coventry, but he did not receive them, which also put me upon doing the same too; and so after dinner I went and chose a pair of candlesticks to be made ready for me at Alderman Backwell’s. To the office again in the afternoon till night, and so home, and with the painters till 10 at night, making an end of my house and the arch before my door, and so this night I was rid of them and all other work, and my house was made ready against tomorrow being Christmas day. This day the Princess Royal died at Whitehall.
. In the morning very much pleased to see my house once more clear of workmen and to be clean, and indeed it is so, far better than it was that I do not repent of my trouble that I have been at. In the morning to church, where Mr. Mills made a very good sermon. After that home to dinner, where my wife and I and my brother Tom (who this morning came to see my wife’s new mantle put on, which do please me very well), to a good shoulder of mutton and a chicken. After dinner to church again, my wife and I, where we had a dull sermon of a stranger, which made me sleep, and so home, and I, before and after supper, to my lute and Fuller’s History, at which I stayed all alone in my chamber till 12 at night, and so to bed.
. In the morning to Alderman Backwell’s for the candlesticks for Mr. Coventry, but they being not done I went away, and so by coach to Mr. Crew’s, and there took some money of Mr. Moore’s for my Lord, and so to my Lord’s, where I found Sir Thomas Bond850 (whom I never saw before) with a message from the Queen about vessels for the carrying over of her goods, and so with him to Mr. Coventry, and thence to the office (being soundly washed going through the bridge) to Sir Wm. Batten and Penn (the last of whom took physic today), and so I went up to his chamber, and there having made an end of the business I returned to Whitehall by water, and dined with my Lady Sandwich, who at table did tell me how much fault was laid upon Dr. Frazer851 and the rest of the Doctors, for the death of the Princess.852 My Lord did dine this day with Sir Henry Wright, in order to his going to sea with the Queen. Thence to my father Bowyer’s where I met my wife, and with her home by water.
. In the morning to Alderman Backwell’s again, where I found the candlesticks done, and went along with him in his coach to my Lord’s and left the candlesticks with Mr. Shepley. I stayed in the garden talking much with my Lord, who do show me much of his love and do communicate his mind in most things to me, which is my great content. Home and with my wife to Sir W. Batten’s to dinner, where much and good company. My wife not very well went home, I stayed late there seeing them play at cards, and so home to bed. This afternoon there came in a strange lord to Sir William Batten’s by a mistake and enters discourse with him, so that we could not be rid of him till Sir Arn. Breames and Mr. Bens and Sir W. Penn fell a-drinking to him till he was drunk, and so sent him away. About the middle of the night I was very ill—I think with eating and drinking too much—and so I was forced to call the maid, who pleased my wife and I in her running up and down so innocently in her smock, and vomited in the bason, and so to sleep, and in the morning was pretty well, only got cold, and so had pain … as I used to have.
. Office day. There all the morning. Dined at home alone with my wife, and so stayed within all the afternoon and evening, at my lute, with great pleasure, and so to bed with great content.
. Within all the morning. Several people to speak with me; Mr. Shepley for £100; Mr. Kennard and Warren,853 the merchant, about deals for my Lord. Captain Robert Blake lately come from the Straights about some Florence Wine for my Lord, and with him I went to Sir W. Penn, who offering me a barrel of oysters I took them both home to my house (having by chance a good piece of roast beef at the fire for dinner), and there they dined with me, and sat talking all the afternoon—good company. Thence to Alderman Backwell’s and took a brave state-plate and cup in lieu of the candlesticks that I had the other day and carried them by coach to my Lord’s and left them there. And so back to my father’s and saw my mother, and so to my uncle Fenner’s, whither my father came to me, and there we talked and drank, and so away; I home with my father, he telling me what bad wives both my cousin Joyces make to their husbands, which I much wondered at. After talking of my sister’s coming to me next week, I went home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and being up, I went with Will to my Lord’s, calling in at many churches in my way. There I found Mr. Shepley, in his Venetian cap, taking physic in his chamber, and with him I sat till dinner. My Lord dined abroad and my Lady in her chamber, so Mr. Hetly, Child and I dined together, and after dinner Mr. Child and I spent some time at the lute, and so promising to prick me some lessons to my theorbo he went away to see Henry Laws, who lies very sick. I to the Abby and walked there, seeing the great confusion of people that come there to hear the organs. So home, calling in at my father’s, but stayed not, my father and mother being both forth. At home I fell a-reading of Fuller’s Church History till it was late, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning and after that home, and not staying to dine I went out, and in Paul’s Churchyard I bought the play of Henry the Fourth,854 and so went to the new Theatre (only calling at Mr. Crew’s and eat a bit with the people there at dinner) and saw it acted; but my expectation being too great, it did not please me, as otherwise I believe it would; and my having a book, I believe did spoil it a little. That being done I went to my Lord’s, where I found him private at cards with my Lord Lauderdale and some persons of honour. So Mr. Shepley and I over to Harper’s, and there drank a pot or two, and so parted. My boy taking a cat home with him from my Lord’s, which Sarah had given him for my wife, we being much troubled with mice. At Whitehall inquiring for a coach, there was a Frenchman with one eye that was going my way, so he and I hired the coach between us and he set me down in Fenchurch Street. Strange how the fellow, without asking, did tell me all what he was, and how he had ran away from his father and come into England to serve the King, and now going back again. Home and to bed.
January 1660–61
1660–61. At the end of the last and the beginning of this year, I do live in one of the houses belonging to the Navy Office, as one of the principal officers, and have done now about half a year. After much trouble with workmen I am now almost settled; my family being, myself, my wife, Jane, Will. Hewer, and Wayneman855 my girl’s brother. Myself in constant good health, and in a most handsome and thriving condition. Blessed be Almighty God for it. I am now taking of my sister to come and live with me. As to things of State.—The King settled, and loved of all. The Duke of York matched to my Lord Chancellor’s daughter, which do not please many. The Queen upon her return to France with the Princess Henrietta. The Princess of Orange856 lately dead, and we into new mourning for her. We have been lately frighted with a great plot,857 and many taken up on it, and the fright not quite over. The Parliament, which had done all this great good to the King, beginning to grow factious, the King did dissolve it December 29th last, and another likely to be chosen speedily. I take myself now to be worth £300 clear in money, and all my goods and all manner of debts paid, which are none at all.
. Called up this morning by Mr. Moore, who brought me my last things for me to sign for the last month, and to my great comfort tells me that my fees will come to £80 clear to myself, and about £25 for him, which he hath got out of the pardons, though there be no fee due to me at all out of them. Then comes in my brother Thomas, and after him my father, Dr. Thomas Pepys, my uncle Fenner and his two sons (Anthony’s858 only child dying this morning, yet he was so civil to come, and was pretty merry) to breakfast; and I had for them a barrel of oysters, a dish of neat’s tongues, and a dish of anchovies, wine of all sorts, and Northdown ale. We were very merry till about eleven o’clock, and then they went away. At noon I carried my wife by coach to my cousin, Thomas Pepys, where we, with my father, Dr. Thomas, cousin Stradwick, Scott, and their wives, dined. Here I saw first his second wife, which is a very respectful woman, but his dinner a sorry, poor dinner for a man of his estate, there being nothing but ordinary meat in it. Today the King dined at a lord’s, two doors from us. After dinner I took my wife to Whitehall, I sent her to Mrs. Pierce’s (where we should have dined today), and I to the Privy Seal, where Mr. Moore took out all his money, and he and I went to Mr. Pierce’s; in our way seeing the Duke of York bring his Lady this day to wait upon the Queen, the first time that ever she did since that great business; and the Queen is said to receive her now with much respect and love; and there he cast up the fees, and I told the money, by the same token one £100 bag, after I had told it, fell all about the room, and I fear I have lost some of it. That done I left my friends and went to my Lord’s, but he being not come in I lodged the money with Mr. Shepley, and bade good night to Mr. Moore, and so returned to Mr. Pierce’s, and there supped with them, and Mr. Pierce, the purser, and his wife and mine, where we had a calf’s head carboned,859 but it was raw, we could not eat it, and a good hen. But she is such a slut that I do not love her victuals. After supper I sent them home by coach, and I went to my Lord’s and there played till 12 at night at cards at Best with J. Goods and N. Osgood, and then to bed with Mr. Shepley.
. Up early, and being called up to my Lord he did give me many commands in his business. As about taking care to write to my uncle that Mr. Barnewell’s860 papers should be locked up, in case he should die, he being now suspected to be very ill. Also about consulting with Mr. W. Montagu for the settling of the £4,000 a-year that the King had promised my Lord. As also about getting of Mr. George Montagu to be chosen at Huntingdon this next Parliament, etc. That done he to Whitehall Stairs with much company, and I with him; where we took water for Lambeth, and there coach for Portsmouth. The Queen’s things were all in Whitehall Court ready to be sent away, and her Majesty ready to be gone an hour after to Hampton Court tonight, and so to be at Portsmouth on Saturday next. I by water to my office, and there all the morning, and so home to dinner, where I found Pall (my sister) was come; but I do not let her sit down at table with me, which I do at first that she may not expect it hereafter from me. After dinner I to Westminster by water, and there found my brother Spicer at the Leg with all the rest of the Exchequer men (most of whom I now do not know) at dinner. Here I stayed and drank with them, and then to Mr. George Montagu about the business of election, and he did give me a piece in gold; so to my Lord’s and got the chest of plate brought to the Exchequer, and my brother Spicer put it into his treasury. So to Will’s with them to a pot of ale, and so parted. I took a turn in the Hall, and bought the King and Chancellor’s speeches861 at the dissolving the Parliament last Saturday. So to my Lord’s, and took my money I brought thither last night and the silver candlesticks, and by coach left the latter at Alderman Backwell’s, I having no use for them, and the former home. There stood a man at our door, when I carried it in, and saw me, which made me a little afeard. Up to my chamber and wrote letters to Huntingdon and did other business. This day I lent Sir W. Batten and Captn. Rider my chine of beef for to serve at dinner tomorrow at Trinity House, the Duke of Albemarle being to be there and all the rest of the Brethren, it being a great day for the reading over of their new Charter, which the King hath newly given them.862
. Early in the morning to the Exchequer, where I told over what money I had of my Lord’s and my own there, which I found to be £970. Thence to Will’s, where Spicer and I eat our dinner of a roasted leg of pork which Will did give us, and after that to the Theatre, where was acted Beggars’ Bush,863 it being very well done; and here the first time that ever I saw women come upon the stage.864 From thence to my father’s, where I found my mother gone by Bird, the carrier, to Brampton, upon my uncle’s great desire, my aunt being now in despair of life. So home.
. Office all the morning, my wife and Pall being gone to my father’s to dress dinner for Mr. Honiwood, my mother being gone out of town. Dined at home, and Mr. Moore with me, with whom I had been early this morning at Whitehall, at the Jewel Office,865 to choose a piece of gilt plate for my Lord, in return of his offering to the King (which it seems is usual at this time of year, and an Earl gives twenty pieces in gold in a purse to the King). I chose a gilt tankard, weighing 31 ounces and a half, and he is allowed 30; so I paid 12s. for the ounce and half over what he is to have; but strange it was for me to see what a company of small fees I was called upon by a great many to pay there, which, I perceive, is the manner that courtiers do get their estates. After dinner Mr. Moore and I to the Theatre, where was The Scornful Lady,866 acted very well, it being the first play that ever he saw. Thence with him to drink a cup of ale at Hercules Pillars, and so parted. I called to see my father, who told me by the way how Will and Mary Joyce867 do live a strange life together, nothing but fighting, etc., so that sometimes her father has a mind to have them divorced. Thence home.
. Home all the morning. Several people came to me about business, among others the great Tom Fuller, who came to desire a kindness for a friend of his,868 who hath a mind to go to Jamaica with these two ships that are going, which I promised to do. So to Whitehall to my Lady, whom I found at dinner and dined with her, and stayed with her talking all the afternoon, and thence walked to Westminster Hall. So to Will’s, and drank with Spicer, and thence by coach home, staying a little in Paul’s Churchyard, to bespeak Ogilby’s Aesop’s Fables869 and Tully’s Offices870 to be bound for me. So home and to bed.
. My wife and I to church this morning, and so home to dinner to a boiled leg of mutton all alone. To church again, where, before sermon, a long Psalm was set that lasted an hour, while the sexton gathered his year’s contribucion through the whole church. After sermon home, and there I went to my chamber and wrote a letter to send to Mr. Coventry, with a piece of plate along with it, which I do preserve among my other letters. So to supper, and thence after prayers to bed.
. This morning, news was brought to me to my bedside, that there had been a great stir in the City this night by the Fanatics, who had been up and killed six or seven men, but all are fled.871 My Lord Mayor and the whole City had been in arms, above 40,000. To the office, and after that to dinner, where my brother Tom came and dined with me, and after dinner (leaving 12d. with the servants to buy a cake with at night, this day being kept as Twelfth day) Tom and I and my wife to the Theatre, and there saw The Silent Woman.872 The first time that ever I did see it, and it is an excellent play. Among other things here, Kinaston, the boy; had the good turn to appear in three shapes: first, as a poor woman in ordinary clothes, to please Morose; then in fine clothes, as a gallant, and in them was clearly the prettiest woman in the whole house, and lastly, as a man; and then likewise did appear the handsomest man in the house. From thence by link to my cousin Stradwick’s, where my father and we and Dr. Pepys, Scott, and his wife, and one Mr. Ward and his; and after a good supper, we had an excellent cake, where the mark for the Queen was cut, and so there was two queens, my wife and Mrs. Ward; and the King being lost, they chose the Doctor to be King, so we made him send for some wine, and then home, and in our way home we were in many places strictly examined, more than in the worst of times, there being great fears of these Fanatics rising again: for the present I do not hear that any of them are taken. Home, it being a clear moonshine and after 12 o’clock at night. Being come home we found that my people had been very merry, and my wife tells me afterwards that she had heard that they had got young Davis and some other neighbours with them to be merry, but no harm.
. My wife and I lay very long in bed today talking and pleasing one another in discourse. Being up, Mr. Warren came, and he and I agreed for the deals that my Lord is to, have. Then Will and I to Westminster, where I dined with my Lady. After dinner I took my Lord Hinchinbroke and Mr. Sidney to the Theatre, and showed them The Widdow,873 an indifferent good play, but wronged by the women being to seek in their parts. That being done, my Lord’s coach waited for us, and so back to my Lady’s, where she made me drink of some Florence wine, and did give me two bottles for my wife. From thence walked to my cousin Stradwick’s, and there chose a small banquet and some other things against our entertainment on Thursday next. Thence to Tom Pepys and bought a dozen of trenchers, and so home. Some talk today of a head of Fanatics that do appear about Barnett, but I do not believe it. However, my Lord Mayor, Sir Richd. Browne, hath carried himself very honourably, and hath caused one of their meetinghouses in London to be pulled down.
. Waked in the morning about six o’clock, by people running up and down in Mr. Davis’s house, talking that the Fanatics were up in arms in the City. And so I rose and went forth; where in the street I found everybody in arms at the doors. So I returned (though with no good courage at all, but that I might not seem to be afeared), and got my sword and pistol, which, however, I had no powder to charge; and went to the door, where I found Sir R. Ford, and with him I walked up and down as far as the Exchange, and there I left him. In our way, the streets full of Trainband, and great stories, what mischief these rogues have done; and I think near a dozen have been killed this morning on both sides. Seeing the city in this condition, the shops shut, and all things in trouble, I went home and sat, it being office day, till noon. So home, and dined at home, my father with me, and after dinner he would needs have me go to my uncle Wight’s (where I have been so long absent that I am ashamed to go). I found him at home and his wife, and I can see they have taken my absence ill, but all things are past and we good friends, and here I sat with my aunt till it was late, my uncle going forth about business. My aunt being very fearful to be alone. So home to my lute till late, and then to bed, there being strict guards all night in the City, though most of the enemies, they say, are killed or taken.874 This morning my wife and Pall went forth early, and I stayed within.
. There comes Mr. Hawley to me and brings me my money for the quarter of a year’s salary of my place under Downing that I was at sea. So I did give him half, whereof he did in his nobleness give the odd 5s. to my Jane. So we both went forth (calling first to see how Sir W. Penn do, whom I found very ill), and at the Hoop by the bridge875 we drank two pints of wormwood and sack. Talking of his wooing afresh of Mrs. Lane, and of his going to serve the Bishop of London. Thence by water to Whitehall, and found my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s. Leaving her to dine there, I went and dined with my Lady, and stayed to talk a while with her. After dinner Will. comes to tell me that he had presented my piece of plate to Mr. Coventry, who takes it very kindly, and sends me a very kind letter, and the plate back again; of which my heart is very glad. So to Mrs. Hunt, where I found a Frenchman, a lodger of hers, at dinner, and just as I came in was kissing my wife, which I did not like, though there could not be any hurt in it. Thence by coach to my Uncle Wight’s with my wife, but they being out of doors we went home, where, after I had put some papers in order and entered some letters in my book which I have a mind to keep, I went with my wife to see Sir W. Penn, who we found ill still, but he do make very much of it. Here we sat a great while, at last comes in Mr. Davis and his lady (who takes it very ill that my wife never did go to see her), and so we fell to talk. Among other things Mr. Davis told us the particular examinations of these Fanatics that are taken: and in short it is this, of all these Fanatics that have done all this, viz., routed all the Trainbands that they met with, put the King’s life-guards to the run, killed about twenty men, broke through the City gates twice; and all this in the daytime, when all the City was in arms; are not in all about 31. Whereas we did believe them (because they were seen up and down in every place almost in the City, and had been about Highgate two or three days,876 and in several other places) to be at least 500. A thing that never was heard of, that so few men should dare and do so much mischief. Their word was, “The King Jesus, and the heads upon the gates.” Few of them would receive any quarter, but such as were taken by force and kept alive; expecting Jesus to come here and reign in the world presently, and will not believe yet but their work will be carried on though they do die. The King this day came to town.
. Office day. This day comes news, by letters from Portsmouth, that the Princess Henrietta is fallen sick of the measles on board the London, after the Queen and she was under sail. And so was forced to come back again into Portsmouth harbour; and in their way, by negligence of the pilot, run upon the Horse sand. The Queen and she continue aboard, and do not intend to come on shore till she sees what will become of the young Princess. This news do make people think something indeed, that three of the Royal Family should fall sick of the same disease, one after another. This morning likewise, we had order to see guards set in all the King’s yards; and so we do appoint who and who should go to them. Sir Wm. Batten to Chatham, Colonel Slingsby and I to Deptford and Woolwich. Portsmouth being a garrison, needs none. Dined at home, discontented that my wife do not go neater now she has two maids. After dinner comes in Kate Sterpin (whom we had not seen a great while) and her husband to see us, with whom I stayed a while, and then to the office, and left them with my wife. At night walked to Paul’s Churchyard, and bespoke some books against next week, and from thence to the Coffeehouse, where I met Captain Morrice, the upholster, who would fain have lent me a horse tonight to have rid with him upon the Cityguards, with the Lord Mayor, there being some new expectations of these rogues; but I refused by reason of my going out of town tomorrow. So home to bed.
. With Colonel Slingsby and a friend of his, Major Waters (a deaf and most amorous melancholy gentleman, who is under a despayr in love, as the Colonel told me, which makes him bad company, though a most good-natured man), by water to Redriffe, and so on foot to Deptford (our servants by water), where we fell to choosing four captains to command the guards, and choosing the places where to keep them, and other things in order thereunto. We dined at the Globe,877 having our messenger with us to take care for us. Never till now did I see the great authority of my place, all the captains of the fleet coming cap in hand to us. Having stayed very late there talking with the Colonel, I went home with Mr. Davis, storekeeper (whose wife is ill and so I could not see her), and was there most prince-like lodged, with so much respect and honour that I was at a loss how to behave myself.
. In the morning we all went to church, and sat in the pew belonging to us, where a cold sermon of a young man that never had preached before. Here Commissioner came with his wife and daughters, the eldest being his wife’s daughter is a very comely black woman.878 So to the Globe to dinner, and then with Commissioner Pett to his lodgings there (which he hath for the present while he is building the King’s yacht, which will be a pretty thing, and much beyond the Dutchman’s), and from thence with him and his wife and daughter-in-law by coach to Greenwich Church, where a good sermon, a fine church, and a great company of handsome women. After sermon to Deptford again; where, at the Commissioner’s and the Globe, we stayed long. And so I to Mr. Davis’s to bed again. But no sooner in bed, but we had an alarm, and so we rose: and the Comptroller comes into the Yard to us; and seamen of all the ships present repair to us, and there we armed with every one a handspike, with which they were as fierce as could be. At last we hear that it was only five or six men that did ride through the guard in the town, without stopping to the guard that was there; and, some say, shot at them. But all being quiet there, we caused the seamen to go on board again. And so we all to bed (after I had sat awhile with Mr. Davis in his study, which is filled with good books and some very good song books) I likewise to bed.
. The arms being come this morning from the Tower, we caused them to be distributed. I spent much time walking with Lieutenant Lambert, walking up and down the yards, who did give me much light into things there, and so went along with me and dined with us. After dinner Mrs. Pett, her husband being gone this morning with Sir W. Batten to Chatham, lent us her coach, and carried us to Woolwich, where we did also dispose of the arms there and settle the guards. So to Mr. Pett’s, the shipwright, and there supped, where he did treat us very handsomely (and strange it is to see what neat houses all the officers of the King’s yards have), his wife a proper woman, and has been handsome, and yet has a very pretty hand. Thence I with Mr. Ackworth to his house, where he has a very pretty house, and a very proper lovely woman to his wife, who both sat with me in my chamber, and they being gone, I went to bed, which was also most neat and fine.
. Up and down the yard all the morning and seeing the seamen exercise, which they do already very handsomely. Then to dinner at Mr. Ackworth’s, where there also dined with us one Captain Bethell, a friend of the Comptroller’s.879 A good dinner and very handsome. After that and taking our leaves of the officers of the yard, we walked to the waterside and in our way walked into the rope-yard, where I do look into the tar-houses and other places, and took great notice of all the several works belonging to the making of a cable. So after a cup of burnt wine880 at the tavern there, we took barge and went to Blackwall and viewed the dock and the new Wet dock, which is newly made there, and a brave new merchantman which is to be launched shortly, and they say to be called the Royal Oak. Hence we walked to Dick-Shore,881 and thence to the Tower and so home. Where I found my wife and Pall abroad, so I went to see Sir W. Penn, and there found Mr. Coventry come to see him, and now had an opportunity to thank him, and he did express much kindness to me. I sat a great while with Sir Wm. after he was gone, and had much talk with him. I perceive none of our officers care much for one another, but I do keep in with them all as much as I can. Sir W. Penn is still very ill as when I went. Home, where my wife not yet come home, so I went up to put my papers in order, and then was much troubled my wife was not come, it being 10 o’clock just now striking as I write this last line. This day I hear the Princess is recovered again. The King hath been this afternoon at Deptford, to see the yacht that Commissioner Pett882 is building, which will be very pretty; as also that that his brother883 at Woolwich is in making. By and by comes in my boy and tells me that his mistress do lie this night at Mrs. Hunt’s, who is very ill, with which being something satisfied, I went to bed.
. This morning I went early to the Comptroller’s and so with him by coach to Whitehall, to wait upon Mr. Coventry to give him an account of what we have done, which having done, I went away to wait upon my Lady; but coming to her lodgings I find that she is gone this morning to Chatham by coach, thinking to meet me there, which did trouble me exceedingly, and I did not know what to do, being loth to follow her, and yet could not imagine what she would do when she found me not there. In this trouble, I went to take a walk in Westminster Hall and by chance met with Mr. Child, who went forth with my Lady today, but his horse being bad, he come back again, which then did trouble me more, so that I did resolve to go to her; and so by boat home and put on my boots, and so over to Southwarke to the posthouse, and there took horse and guide to Dartford and thence to Rochester (I having good horses and good way, come thither about half-an-hour after daylight, which was before 6 o’clock and I set forth after two), where I found my Lady and her daughter Jem., and Mrs. Browne884 and five servants, all at a great loss, not finding me here, but at my coming she was overjoyed. The sport was how she had intended to have kept herself unknown, and how the Captain885 (whom she had sent for) of the Charles had forsoothed886 her, though he knew her well and she him. In fine we supped merry and so to bed, there coming several of the Charles’s men to see me before, I got to bed. The page lay with me.
. Up, and breakfast with my Lady. Then come Captains Cuttance and Blake to carry her in the barge on board; and so we went through Ham Creeke to the Sovereign887 (a goodly sight all the way to see the brave ships that lie here) first, which is a most noble ship. I never saw her before. My Lady Sandwich, my Lady Jemimah, Mrs. Browne, Mrs. Grace, and Mary and the page, my lady’s servants and myself, all went into the lantern together. From thence to the Charles, where my lady took great pleasure to see all the rooms, and to hear me tell her how things are when my Lord is there. After we had seen all, then the officers of the ship had prepared a handsome breakfast for her, and while she was pledging my Lord’s health they give her five guns. That done, we went off, and then they give us thirteen guns more. I confess it was a great pleasure to myself to see the ship that I begun my good fortune in. From thence on board the Newcastle, to show my Lady the difference between a great and a small ship. Among these ships I did give away £7. So back again and went on shore at Chatham, where I had ordered the coach to wait for us. Here I heard that Sir William Batten and his lady (who I knew were here, and did endeavour to avoyd) were now gone this morning to London. So we took coach, and I went into the coach, and went through the town, without making stop at our inn, but left J. Goods to pay the reckoning. So I rode with my lady in the coach, and the page on the horse that I should have rid on—he desiring it. It begun to be dark before we could come to Dartford, and to rain hard, and the horses to fail, which was our great care to prevent, for fear of my Lord’s displeasure, so here we sat up for tonight, as also Captains Cuttance and Blake, who came along with us. We sat and talked till supper, and at supper my Lady and I entered into a great dispute concerning what were best for a man to do with his estate—whether to make his elder son heir, which my Lady is for, and I against, but rather to make all equall. This discourse took us much time, till it was time to go to bed; but we being merry, we bade my Lady goodnight, and intended to have gone to the Post-house to drink, and hear a pretty girl play of the cittern (and indeed we should have lain there, but by a mistake we did not), but it was late, and we could not hear her, and the guard came to examine what we were; so we returned to our Inn and to bed, the page and I in one bed, and the two captains in another, all in one chamber, where we had very good mirth with our most abominable lodging.
. The Captains went with me to the post-house about 9 o’clock, and after a morning draught I took horse and guide for London; and through some rain, and a great wind in my face, I got to London at eleven o’clock. At home found all well, but the monkey loose, which did anger me, and so I did strike her till she was almost dead, that they might make her fast again, which did still trouble me more. In the afternoon we met at the office and sat till night, and then I to see my father who I found well, and took him to Standing’s888 to drink a cup of ale. He told me my aunt at Brampton is yet alive and my mother well there. In comes Will Joyce to us drunk, and in a talking vapouring humour of his state, and I know not what, which did vex me cruelly. After him Mr. Hollier had learned at my father’s that I was here (where I had appointed to meet him) and so he did give me some things to take for prevention. Will Joyce not letting us talk as I would I left my father and him and took Mr. Hollier to the Greyhound,889 where he did advise me above all things, both as to the stone and the decay of my memory (of which I now complain to him), to avoid drinking often, which I am resolved, if I can, to leave off. Hence home, and took home with me from the bookseller’s Ogilby’s Aesop, which he had bound for me, and indeed I am very much pleased with the book. Home and to bed.
. To the Comptroller’s, and with him by coach to Whitehall; in our way meeting Venner890 and Pritchard upon a sledge, who with two more Fifth Monarchy men were hanged today, and the two first drawn and quartered. Where we walked up and down, and at last found Sir G. Carteret, whom I had not seen a great while, and did discourse with him about our assisting the Commissioners in paying off the Fleet, which we think to decline. Here the Treasurer did tell me that he did suspect Thos. Hater to be an informer of them in this work, which we do take to be a diminution of us, which do trouble me, and I do intend to find out the truth. Hence to my Lady, who told me how Mr. Hetley is dead of the smallpox going to Portsmouth with my Lord. My Lady went forth to dinner to her father’s, and so I went to the Leg in King Street and had a rabbit for myself and my Will, and after dinner I sent him home and myself went to the Theatre, where I saw The Lost Lady,891 which do not please me much. Here I was troubled to be seen by four of our office clerks, which sat in the half-crown box and I in the 1s. 6d. From thence by link, and bought two mouse traps of Thomas Pepys, the Turner, and so went and drank a cup of ale with him, and so home and wrote by post to Portsmouth to my Lord and so to bed.
. To Church in the morning. Dined at home. My wife and I to Church in the afternoon, and that being done we went to see my uncle and aunt Wight. There I left my wife and came back, and sat with Sir W. Penn, who is not yet well again. Thence back again to my wife and supped there, and were very merry and so home, and after prayers to write down my journal for the last five days, and so to bed.
. This morning Sir W. Batten, the Comptroller and I to Westminster, to the Commissioners for paying off the Army and Navy, where the Duke of Albemarle was; and we sat with our hats on, and did discourse about paying off the ships and do find that they do intend to undertake it without our help; and we are glad of it, for it is a work that will much displease the poor seamen, and so we are glad to have no hand in it. From thence to the Exchequer, and took £200 and carried it home, and so to the office till night, and then to see Sir W. Penn, whither came my Lady Batten and her daughter, and then I sent for my wife, and so we sat talking till it was late. So home to supper and then to bed, having eat no dinner today. It is strange what weather we have had all this winter; no cold at all; but the ways are dusty, and the flies fly up and down, and the rosebushes are full of leaves, such a time of the year as was never known in this world before here. This day many more of the Fifth Monarchy men were hanged.
. To the Comptroller’s house, where I read over his proposals to the Lord Admiral for the regulating of the officers of the Navy,892 in which he hath taken much pains, only he do seem to have too good opinion of them himself. From thence in his coach to Mercer’s Chapel,893 and so up to the great hall, where we met with the King’s Council for Trade,894 upon some proposals of theirs for settling convoys for the whole English trade, and that by having 33 ships (four fourth-rates, nineteen fifths, ten sixths) settled by the King for that purpose, which indeed was argued very finely by many persons of honour and merchants that were there. It pleased me much now to come in this condition to this place, where I was once a petitioner for my exhibition in Paul’s School; and also where Sir G. Downing (my late master) was chairman, and so but equally concerned with me. From thence home, and after a little dinner my wife and I by coach into London, and bought some glasses, and then to Whitehall to see Mrs. Fox, but she not within, my wife to my mother Bowyer, and I met with Dr. Thomas Fuller, and took him to the Dog, where he tells me of his last and great book that is coming out: that is, his History of All the Families in England;895 and could tell me more of my own, than I knew myself. And also to what perfection he hath now brought the art of memory; that he did lately to four eminently great scholars dictate together in Latin, upon different subjects of their proposing, faster than they were able to write, till they were tired; and by the way in discourse tells me that the best way of beginning a sentence, if a man should be out and forget his last sentence (which he never was), that then his last refuge is to begin with an Utcunque.896 From thence I to Mr. Bowyer’s, and there sat a while, and so to Mr. Fox’s, and sat with them a very little while, and then by coach home, and so to see Sir Wm. Penn, where we found Mrs. Martha Batten897 and two handsome ladies more, and so we stayed supper and were very merry, and so home to bed.
. To the office all the morning. My wife and people at home busy to get things ready for tomorrow’s dinner. At noon, without dinner, went into the City, and there meeting with Greatorex, we went and drank a pot of ale. He told me that he was upon a design to go to Teneriffe to try experiments there. With him to Gresham Colledge898 (where I never was before), and saw the manner of the house, and found great company of persons of honour there; thence to my bookseller’s, and for books, and to Stevens, the silversmith, to make clean some plate against tomorrow, and so home, by the way paying many little debts for wine and pictures, etc., which is my great pleasure. Home and found all things in a hurry of business, Slater, our messenger, being here as my cook till very late. I in my chamber all the evening looking over my Osborn’s works899 and new Emanuel Thesaurus Patriarchae.900 So late to bed, having ate nothing today but a piece of bread and cheese at the alehouse with Greatorex, and some bread and butter at home.
. At home all day. There dined with me Sir William Batten and his lady and daughter, Sir W. Penn, Mr. Fox (his lady being ill could not come), and Captain Cuttance; the first dinner I have made since I came hither. This cost me above £5, and merry we were—only my chimney smokes. In the afternoon Mr. Hater bringing me my last quarter’s salary, which I received of him, and so I have now Mr. Barlow’s money in my hands. The company all go away, and by and by Sir Wms. both and my Lady Batten and his daughter come again and supped with me and talked till late, and so to bed, being glad that the trouble is over.
. At the office all the morning. Dined at home and Mr. Hater with me, and so I did make even with him for the last quarter. After dinner he and I to look upon the instructions of my Lord Northumberland’s,901 but we were interrupted by Mr. Salisbury’s coming in, who came to see me and to show me my Lord’s picture in little, of his doing. And truly it is strange to what a perfection he is come in a year’s time. From thence to Paul’s Churchyard about books, and so back again home. This night comes two cages, which I bought this evening for my canary birds, which Captain Rooth902 this day sent me. So to bed.
. Within all the morning. About noon comes one that had formerly known me and I him, but I know not his name, to borrow £5 of me, but I had the wit to deny him. There dined with me this day both the Pierces903 and their wives, and Captain Cuttance, and Lieutenant Lambert, with whom we made ourselves very merry by taking away his ribbans and garters, having made him to confess that he is lately married.904 The company being gone I went to my lute till night, and so to bed.
. Before I rose, letters come to me from Portsmouth, telling me that the Princess is now well, and my Lord Sandwich set sail with the Queen and her yesterday from thence for France. To church, leaving my wife sick … at home, a poor dull sermon of a stranger. Home, and at dinner was very angry at my people’s eating a fine pudding (made me by Slater, the cook, last Thursday) without my wife’s leave. To church again, a good sermon of Mr. Mills, and after sermon Sir W. Penn and I an hour in the garden talking, and he did answer me to many things, I asked Mr. Coventry’s opinion of me, and Sir W. Batten’s of my Lord Sandwich, which do both please me. Then to Sir W. Batten’s, where very merry, and here I met the Comptroller and his lady and daughter (the first time I ever saw them) and Mrs. Turner, who and her husband supped with us here (I having fetched my wife thither), and after supper we fell to oysters, and then Mr. Turner went and fetched some strong waters, and so being very merry we parted, and home to bed. This day the parson read a proclamation at church, for the keeping of Wednesday next, the 30th of January, a fast for the murther of the late King.905
. At the office all the morning; dined at home, and after dinner to Fleet Street, with my sword to Mr. Brigden (lately made Captain of the Auxiliaries) to be refreshed, and with him to an alehouse, where I met Mr. Davenport; and after some talk of Cromwell, Ireton and Bradshaw’s bodies being taken out of their graves today,906 I went to Mr. Crew’s and thence to the Theatre, where I saw again The Lost Lady, which do now please me better than before; and here I sitting behind in a dark place, a lady spit backward upon me by a mistake, not seeing me, but after seeing her to be a very pretty lady, I was not troubled at it at all. Thence to Mr. Crew’s, and there met Mr. Moore, who came lately to me, and went with me to my father’s, and with him to Standing’s, whither came to us Dr. Fairbrother, who I took and my father to the Bear and gave a pint of sack and a pint of claret. He do still continue his expressions of respect and love to me, and tells me my brother John will make a good scholar. Thence to see the Doctor at his lodging at Mr. Holden’s, where I bought a hat, cost me 35s.907 So home by moonshine, and by the way was overtaken by the Comptroller’s coach, and so home to his house with him. So home and to bed. This noon I had my press set up in my chamber for papers to be put in.
. Mr. Moore making up accounts with me all this morning till Lieut. Lambert came, and so with them over the water to Southwark, and so over the fields to Lambeth, and there drank, it being a most glorious and warm day, even to amazement, for this time of the year. Thence to my Lord’s, where we found my Lady gone with some company to see Hampton Court, so we three went to Blackfryers908 (the first time I ever was there since plays begun), and there after great patience and little expectation, from so poor beginning, I saw three acts of The Maid in ye Mill909 acted to my great content. But it being late, I left the play and them, and by water through bridge home, and so to Mr. Turner’s house, where the Comptroller, Sir William Batten, and Mr. Davis and their ladies; and here we had a most neat little but costly and genteel supper, and after that a great deal of impertinent mirth by Mr. Davis, and some catches, and so broke up, and going away, Mr. Davis’s eldest son took up my old Lady Slingsby910 in his arms, and carried her to the coach, and is said to be able to carry three of the biggest men that were in the company, which I wonder at. So home and to bed.
. The first time that this day hath been yet observed: and Mr. Mills made a most excellent sermon, upon “Lord forgive us our former iniquities;” speaking excellently of the justice of God in punishing men for the sins of their ancestors. Home, and John Goods comes, and after dinner I did pay him £30 for my Lady, and after that Sir W. Penn and I into Moorfields and had a brave talk, it being a most pleasant day, and besides much discourse did please ourselves to see young Davis and Whitton, two of our clerks, going by us in the field, who we observe to take much pleasure together, and I did most often see them at play together. Back to the Old James911 in Bishopsgate Street, where Sir W. Batten and Sir Wm. Rider met him about business of the Trinity House. So I went home, and there understand that my mother is come home well from Brampton, and had a letter from my brother John, a very ingenious one, and he therein begs to have leave to come to town at the Coronacion. Then to my Lady Batten’s; where my wife and she are lately come back again from being abroad, and seeing of Cromwell, Ireton,912 and Bradshaw hanged and buried at Tyburn. Then I home.
. This morning with Mr. Coventry at Whitehall about getting a ship to carry my Lord’s deals to Lynne,913 and we have chosen the Gift. Thence at noon to my Lord’s, where my Lady not well, so I eat a mouthful of dinner there, and thence to the Theatre, and there sat in the pit among the company of fine ladies, etc.; and the house was exceeding full, to see Argalus and Parthenia,914 the first time that it hath been acted: and indeed it is good, though wronged by my over great expectations, as all things else are. Thence to my father’s to see my mother, who is pretty well after her journey from Brampton. She tells me my aunt is pretty well, yet cannot live long. My uncle pretty well too, and she believes would marry again were my aunt dead, which God forbid. So home.
February 1660–61
. A full office all this morning, and busy about answering the Commissioners of Parliament to their letter, wherein they desire to borrow two clerks of ours, which we will not grant them. After dinner into London and bought some books, and a belt, and had my sword new furbished. To the alehouse with Mr. Brigden and W. Symons. At night home. So after a little music to bed, leaving my people up getting things ready against tomorrow’s dinner.
. Early to Mr. Moore, and with him to Sir Peter Ball,915 who proffers my uncle Robert much civility in letting him continue in the grounds which he had hired of Hetley who is now dead. Thence home, where all things in a hurry for dinner, a strange cook being come in the room of Slater, who could not come. There dined here my uncle Wight and my aunt, my father and mother, and my brother Tom, Dr. Fairbrother and Mr. Mills, the parson, and his wife, who is a neighbour’s daughter of my uncle Robert’s, and knows my Aunt Wight and all her and my friends there; and so we had excellent company today. After dinner I was sent for to Sir G. Carteret’s, where he was, and I found the Comptroller, who are upon writing a letter to the Commissioners of Parliament in some things a rougher stile than our last, because they seem to speak high to us. So the Comptroller and I thence to a tavern hard by, and there did agree upon drawing up some letters to be sent to all the pursers and Clerks of the Cheques to make up their accounts. Then home; where I found the parson and his wife gone. And by and by the rest of the company, very well pleased, and I too; it being the last dinner I intend to make a great while, it having now cost me almost £15 in three dinners within this fortnight. In the evening comes Sir W. Penn, pretty merry, to sit with me and talk, which we did for an hour or two, and so good night, and I to bed.
. This day I first begun to go forth in my coat and sword, as the manner now among gentlemen is. To Whitehall. In my way heard Mr. Thomas Fuller preach at the Savoy upon our forgiving of other men’s trespasses, showing among other things that we are to go to law never to revenge, but only to repair, which I think a good distinction. So to Whitehall; where I stayed to hear the trumpets and kettledrums, and then the other drums, which are much cried up, though I think it dull, vulgar music. So to Mr. Fox’s, unbid; where I had a good dinner and special company. Among other discourse, I observed one story, how my Lord of Northwich, at a public audience before the King of France, made the Duke of Anjou cry, by making ugly faces as he was stepping to the King, but undiscovered.916 And how Sir Phillip Warwick’s917 lady did wonder to have Mr. Darcy918 send for several dozen bottles of Rhenish wine to her house, not knowing that the wine was his. Thence to my Lord’s; where I am told how Sir Thomas Crew’s Pedro, with two of his countrymen more, did last night kill one soldier of four that quarrelled with them in the street, about 10 o’clock. The other two are taken; but he is now hid at my Lord’s till night, that he do intend to make his escape away. So up to my Lady, and sat and talked with her long, and so to Westminster Stairs, and there took boat to the bridge, and so home, where I met with letters to call us all up tomorrow morning to Whitehall about office business.
. Early up to Court with Sir W. Penn, where, at Mr. Coventry’s chamber, we met with all our fellow officers, and there after a hot debate about the business of paying off the Fleet, and how far we should join with the Commissioners of Parliament, which is now the great business of this month more to determine, and about which there is a great deal of difference between us, and then how far we should be assistants to them therein. That being done, he and I back again home, where I met with my father and mother going to my cousin Snow’s to Blackwall, and had promised to bring me and my wife along with them, which we could not do because we are to go to the Dolphin today to a dinner of Capt. Tayler’s. So at last I let my wife go with them, and I to the tavern, where Sir William Penn and the Comptroller and several others were, men and women; and we had a very great and merry dinner; and after dinner the Comptroller begun some sports, among others the naming of people round and afterwards demanding questions of them that they are forced to answer their names to, which do make very good sport. And here I took pleasure to take the forfeits of the ladies who would not do their duty by kissing of them; among others a pretty lady, who I found afterwards to be wife to Sir W. Batten’s son.919 Home, and then with my wife to see Sir W. Batten, who could not be with us this day being ill, but we found him at cards, and here we sat late, talking with my Lady and others and Dr. Whistler,920 who I found good company and a very ingenious man. So home and to bed.
. Washing-day. My wife and I by water to Westminster. She to her mother’s and I to Westminster Hall, where I found a full term, and here I went to Will’s, and there found Shaw and Ashwell and another Bragrave (who knew my mother wash-maid to my Lady Veere), who by cursing and swearing made me weary of his company and so I went away. Into the Hall and there saw my Lord Treasurer921 (who was sworn today at the Exchequer, with a great company of Lords and persons of honour to attend him) go up to the Treasury Offices, and take possession thereof; and also saw the heads of Cromwell, Bradshaw, and Ireton, set up upon the further end of the Hall. Then at Mrs. Michell’s in the Hall met my wife and Shaw, and she and I and Captain Murford to the Dog, and there I gave them some wine, and after some mirth and talk (Mr. Langley coming in afterwards) I went by coach to the playhouse at the Theatre, our coach in King Street breaking, and so took another. Here we saw Argalus and Parthenia, which I lately saw, but though pleasant for the dancing and singing, I do not find good for any wit or design therein. That done home by coach and to supper, being very hungry for want of dinner, and so to bed.
. Called up by my Cousin Snow, who sat by me while I was trimmed, and then I drank with him, he desiring a courtesy for a friend, which I have done for him. Then to the office, and there sat long, then to dinner, Captain Murford with me. I had a dish of fish and a good hare, which was sent me the other day by Goodenough the plasterer. So to the office again, where Sir W. Penn and I sat all alone, answering of petitions and nothing else, and so to Sir W. Batten’s, where comes Mr. Jessop (one whom I could not formerly have looked upon, and now he comes cap in hand to us from the Commissioners of the Navy, though indeed he is a man of a great estate and of good report), about some business from them to us, which we answered by letter. Here I sat long with Sir W., who is not well, and then home and to my chamber, and some little, music, and so to bed.
. With Sir W. Batten and Penn to Whitehall to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, to debate upon the business we were upon the other day morning, and thence to Westminster Hall. And after a walk to my Lord’s; where, while I and my Lady were in her chamber in talk, in comes my Lord from sea, to our great wonder. He had dined at Havre de Grace on Monday last, and came to the Downs the next day, and lay at Canterbury that night; and so to Dartford, and thence this morning to Whitehall. All my friends his servants well. Among others, Mr. Creed and Captain Ferrers tell me the stories of my Lord Duke of Buckingham’s and my Lord’s falling out at Havre de Grace, at cards; they two and my Lord St. Alban’s playing. The Duke did, to my Lord’s dishonour, often say that he did in his conscience know the contrary to what he then said, about the difference at cards; and so did take up the money that he should have lost to my Lord. Which my Lord resenting, said nothing then, but that he doubted not but there were ways enough to get his money of him. So they parted that night; and my Lord sent for Sir R. Stayner and sent him the next morning to the Duke, to know whether he did remember what he said last night, and whether he would own it with his sword and a second; which he said he would, and so both sides agreed. But my Lord St. Alban’s, and the Queen and Ambassador Montagu, did waylay them at their lodgings till the difference was made up, to my Lord’s honour; who hath got great reputation thereby. I dined with my Lord, and then with Mr. Shepley and Creed (who talked very high of France for a fine country) to the tavern, and then I home. To the office, where the two Sir Williams had stayed for me, and then we drew up a letter to the Commissioners of Parliament again, and so to Sir W. Batten, where I stayed late in talk, and so home, and after writing the letter fair then I went to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At noon to the Exchange to meet Mr. Warren the timber merchant, but could not meet with him. Here I met with many sea commanders, and among others Captain Cuttle,922 and Curtis, and Mootham,923 and I, went to the Fleece Tavern to drink; and there we spent till four o’clock, telling stories of Algiers, and the manner of the life of slaves there.924 And truly Captn. Mootham and Mr. Dawes925 (who have been both slaves there) did make me fully acquainted with their condition there: as, how they eat nothing but bread and water. At their redemption they pay so much for the water they drink at the public fountains, during their being slaves. How they are beat upon the soles of their feet and bellies at the liberty of their padron. How they are all, at night, called into their master’s Bagnard;926 and there they lie. How the poorest men do use their slaves best. How some rogues do live well, if they do invent to bring their masters in so much a week by their industry or theft; and then they are put to no other work at all. And theft there is counted no great crime at all. Thence to Mr. Rawlinson’s, having met my old friend Dick Scobell, and there I drank a great deal with him, and so home and to bed betimes, my head aching.
. To my Lord’s with Mr. Creed (who was come to me this morning to get a bill of imprest signed), and my Lord being gone out he and I to the Rhenish wine-house with Mr. Blackburne. To whom I did make known my fears of Will’s927 losing of his time, which he will take care to give him good advice about. Afterwards to my Lord’s and Mr. Shepley and I did make even his accounts and mine. And then with Mr. Creed and two friends of his (my late landlord Jones’ son one of them), to an ordinary to dinner, and then Creed and I to Whitefriars928 to the Playhouse, and saw The Mad Lover,929 the first time I ever saw it acted, which I like pretty well, and home.
. Took physic all day, and, God forgive me, did spend it in reading of some little French romances. At night my wife and I did please ourselves talking of our going into France, which I hope to effect this summer. At noon one came to ask for Mrs. Hunt that was here yesterday, and it seems is not come home yet, which makes us afraid of her. At night to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Dined at home, and then to the Exchequer, and took Mr. Warren with me to Mr. Kennard, the master joiner, at Whitehall, who was at a tavern, and there he and I to him, and agreed about getting some of my Lord’s deals on board tomorrow. Then with young Mr. Reeve home to his house, who did there show me many pretty pleasures in perspectives,930 that I have not seen before, and I did buy a little glass of him cost me 5s. And so to Mr. Crew’s, and with Mr. Moore to see how my father and mother did, and so with him to Mr. Adam Chard’s931 (the first time I ever was at his house since he was married) to drink, then we parted, and I home to my study, and set some papers and money in order, and so to bed.
. To my Lord’s, and there with him all the morning, and then (he going out to dinner) I and Mr. Pickering, Creed, and Captain Ferrers to the Leg in the Palace to dinner, where strange Pickering’s impertinences. Thence the two others and I after a great dispute whither to go, we went by water to Salsbury Court932 playhouse, where not liking to sit, we went out again, and by coach to the Theatre, and there saw The Scornful Lady,933 now done by a woman,934 which makes the play appear much better than ever it did to me. Then Creed and I (the other being lost in the crowd) to drink a cup of ale at Temple Bar, and there we parted, and I (seeing my father and mother by the way) went home.
. At the office all the morning; dined at home, and poor Mr. Wood with me, who after dinner would have borrowed money of me, but I would lend none. Then to Whitehall by coach with Sir W. Penn, where we did very little business, and so back to Mr. Rawlinson’s, where I took him and gave him a cup of wine, he having formerly known Mr. Rawlinson, and here I met my uncle Wight, and he drank with us, and with him to Sir W. Batten’s, whither I sent for my wife, and we chose Valentines935 against tomorrow. My wife chose me, which did much please me; my Lady Batten Sir W. Penn, etc. Here we sat late, and so home to bed, having got my Lady Batten to give me a spoonful of honey for my cold.
. Up early and to Sir W. Batten’s, but would not go in till I asked whether they that opened the door was a man or a woman, and Mingo, who was there, answered a woman, which, with his tone, made me laugh; so up I went and took Mrs. Martha936 for my Valentine (which I do only for complacency), and Sir W. Batten he go in the same manner to my wife, and so we were very merry. About 10 o’clock we, with a great deal of company, went down by our barge to Deptford, and there only went to see how forward Mr. Pett’s yacht is; and so all into the barge again, and so to Woolwich, on board the Rose-Bush, Captain Brown’s937 ship, that is brother-in-law to Sir W. Batten, where we had a very fine dinner, dressed on shore, and great mirth and all things successful; the first time I ever carried my wife a-ship-board, as also my boy Wayneman, who hath all this day been called young Pepys, as Sir W. Penn’s boy young Penn. So home by barge again; good weather, but pretty cold. I to my study, and began to make up my accounts for my Lord, which I intend to end tomorrow. To bed. The talk of the town now is, who the King is like to have for his Queen: and whether Lent shall be kept with the strictness of the King’s proclamation;938 which it is thought cannot be, because of the poor, who cannot buy fish. And also the great preparation for the King’s crowning is now much thought upon and talked of.
. At the office all the morning, and in the afternoon at making up my accounts for my Lord tomorrow; and that being done I found myself to be clear (as I think) £350 in the world, besides my goods in my house and all things paid for.
. To my Lord in the morning, who looked over my accounts and agreed to them. I did also get him to sign a bill (which do make my heart merry) for £60 to me, in consideration of my work extraordinary at sea this last voyage, which I hope to get paid. I dined with my Lord and then to the Theatre, where I saw The Virgin Martyr,939 a good but too sober a play for the company. Then home.
. A most tedious, unreasonable, and impertinent sermon, by an Irish Doctor. His text was “Scatter them, O Lord, that delight in war.” Sir Wm. Batten and I very much angry with the parson. And so I to Westminster as soon as I came home to my Lord’s, where I dined with Mr. Shepley and Howe. After dinner (without speaking to my Lord), Mr. Shepley and I into the city, and so I home and took my wife to my uncle Wight’s, and there did sup with them, and so home again and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, dined at home with a very good dinner, only my wife and I, which is not yet very usual. In the afternoon my wife and I and Mrs. Martha Batten, my Valentine, to the Exchange, and there upon a pair of embroydered and six pair of plain white gloves I laid out 40s. upon her. Then we went to a mercer’s at the end of Lombard Street, and there she bought a suit of Lutestring940 for herself, and so home. And at night I got the whole company and Sir Wm. Penn home to my house, and there I did give them Rhenish wine and sugar, and continued together till it was late, and so to bed. It is much talked that the King is already married to the niece of the Prince de Ligne,941 and that he hath two sons already by her: which I am sorry to hear; but yet am gladder that it should be so, than that the Duke of York and his family should come to the crown, he being a professed friend to the Catholics.
. By coach to Whitehall with Colonel Slingsby (carrying Mrs. Turner with us) and there he and I up into the house, where we met with Sir G. Carteret: who afterwards, with the Duke of York, my Lord Sandwich, and others, went into a private room to consult: and we were a little troubled that we were not called in with the rest. But I do believe it was upon something very private. We stayed walking in the gallery; where we met with Mr. Slingsby,942 that was formerly a great friend of Mons. Blondeau, who showed me the stamps of the King’s new coin; which is strange to see, how good they are in the stamp and bad in the money, for lack of skill to make them. But he says Blondeau will shortly come over, and then we shall have it better, and the best in the world.943 The Comptroller and I to the Commissioners of Parliament, and after some talk away again and to drink a cup of ale. He tells me, he is sure that the King is not yet married, as it is said; nor that it is known who he will have. To my Lord’s and found him dined, and so I lost my dinner, but I stayed and played with him and Mr. Child, etc., some things of four parts, and so it raining hard and bitter cold (the first winter day we have yet had this winter), I took coach home and spent the evening in reading of a Latin play, the Naufragium Joculare.944 And so to bed.
. All the morning at the office, dined at home and my brother Tom with me, who brought me a pair of fine slippers which he gave me. By and by comes little Luellin and friend to see me, and then my coz Stradwick, who was never here before. With them I drank a bottle of wine or two, and to the office again, and there stayed about business late, and then all of us to Sir W. Penn’s, where we had, and my Lady Batten, Mrs. Martha, and my wife, and other company, a good supper, and sat playing at cards and talking till 12 at night, and so all to our lodgings.
. To Westminster by coach with Sir W. Penn, and in our way saw the city begin to build scaffolds against the Coronacion. To my Lord, and there found him out of doors. So to the Hall and called for some caps that I have a making there, and here met with Mr. Hawley, and with him to Will’s and drank, and then by coach with Mr. Langley our old friend into the city. I set him down by the way, and I home and there stayed all day within, having found Mr. Moore, who stayed with me till late at night talking and reading some good books. Then he went away, and I to bed.
. All the morning at the office. At noon with my wife and Pall to my father’s to dinner, where Dr. Thos. Pepys and my coz Snow and Joyce Norton. After dinner came The. Turner, and so I home with her to her mother, good woman, whom I had not seen through my great neglect this half year, but she would not be angry with me. Here I stayed all the afternoon talking of the King’s being married, which is now the town talk, but I believe false. In the evening Mrs. The. and Joyce took us all into the coach home, calling in Bishopsgate Street, thinking to have seen a new Harpsicon945 that she had a making there, but it was not done, and so we did not see it. Then to my home, where I made very much of her, and then she went home. Then my wife to Sir W. Batten’s, and there sat a while; he having yesterday sent my wife half-a-dozen pairs of gloves, and a pair of silk stockings and garters, for her Valentine’s gift. Then home and to bed.
. This my birthday, 28 years. This morning Sir W. Batten, Penn, and I did some business, and then I by water to Whitehall, having met Mr. Hartlibb946 by the way at Alderman Backwell’s. So he did give me a glass of Rhenish wine at the Steelyard,947 and so to Whitehall by water. He continues of the same bold impertinent humour that he was always of and will ever be. He told me how my Lord Chancellor had lately got the Duke of York and Duchess, and her woman, my Lord Ossory,948 and a Doctor, to make oath before most of the judges of the kingdom, concerning all the circumstances of their marriage. And in fine, it is confessed that they were not fully married till about a month or two before she was brought to bed; but that they were contracted long before, and time enough for the child to be legitimate.949 But I do not hear that it was put to the judges to determine whether it was so or no. To my Lord and there spoke to him about his opinion of the Light, the sea-mark that Captain Murford is about, and do offer me an eighth part to concern myself with it, and my Lord do give me some encouragement in it, and I shall go on. I dined herewith Mr. Shepley and Howe. After dinner to Whitehall Chapel with Mr. Child, and there did hear Captain Cooke and his boy make a trial of an Anthem against tomorrow, which was brave music. Then by water to Whitefriars to the Playhouse, and there saw The Changeling,950 the first time it hath been acted these twenty years, and it takes exceedingly. Besides, I see the gallants do begin to be tyred with the vanity and pride of the theatre actors who are indeed grown very proud and rich. Then by link home, and there to my book awhile and to bed. I met today with Mr. Townsend, who tells me that the old man is yet alive in whose place in the Wardrobe he hopes to get my father, which I do resolve to put for. I also met with the Comptroller, who told me how it was easy for us all, the principal officers, and proper for us, to labour to get into the next Parliament; and would have me to ask the Duke’s letter,951 but I shall not endeavour it because it will spend much money, though I am sure I could well obtain it. This is now 28 years that I am born. And blessed be God, in a state of full content, and great hopes to be a happy man in all respects, both to myself and friends.
. Mr. Mills made as excellent a sermon in the morning against drunkenness as ever I heard in my life. I dined at home; another good one of his in the afternoon. My Valentine had her fine gloves on at church today that I did give her. After sermon my wife and I unto Sir Wm. Batten and sat awhile. Then home, I to read, then to supper and to bed.
. Sir Wm. Penn and I to my Lord Sandwich’s by coach in the morning to see him, but he takes physic today and so we could not see him. So he went away, and I with Luellin to Mr. Mount’s chamber at the Cockpit, where he did lie of old, and there we drank, and from thence to W. Symons where we found him abroad, but she, like a good lady, within, and there we did eat some nettle porridge, which was made on purpose today for some of their coming, and was very good. With her we sat a good while, merry in discourse, and so away, Luellin and I to my Lord’s, and there dined. He told me one of the prettiest stories, how Mr. Blurton, his friend that was with him at my house three or four days ago, did go with him the same day from my house to the Fleet tavern by Guildhall, and there (by some pretence) got the mistress of the house into their company, and by and by Luellin calling him Doctor she thought that he really was so, and did privately discover her disease to him, which was only some ordinary infirmity belonging to women, and he proffering her physic, she desired him to come some day and bring it, which he did. After dinner by water to the office, and there Sir W. Penn and I met and did business all the afternoon, and then I got him to my house and eat a lobster together, and so to bed.
. I left my wife in bed, being indisposed … I to Mrs. Turner’s, who I found busy with The. and Joyce making of things ready for fritters, so to Mr. Crew’s and there delivered Cotgrave’s Dictionary952 to my Lady Jemimah, and then with Mr. Moore to my coz Tom Pepys, but he being out of town I spoke with his lady, though not of the business I went about, which was to borrow £1,000 for my Lord. Back to Mrs. Turner’s, where several friends, all strangers to me but Mr. Armiger, dined. Very merry and the best fritters that ever I eat in my life. After that looked out at window; saw the flinging at cocks.953 Then Mrs. The. and I, and a gentleman that dined there and his daughter, a perfect handsome young and very tall lady that lately came out of the country, and Mr. Thatcher the Virginall Maister to Bishopsgate Street, and there saw the new Harpsicon made for Mrs. The. We offered £12, they demanded £14. The Master not being at home, we could make no bargain, so parted for tonight. So all by coach to my house, where I found my Valentine with my wife, and here they drank, and then went away. Then I sat and talked with my Valentine and my wife a good while, and then saw her home, and went to Sir W. Batten to the Dolphin, where Mr. Newborne, etc., were, and there after a quart or two of wine, we home, and I to bed. …
. At the office all the morning, that done I walked in the garden with little Captain Murford, where he and I had some discourse concerning the Light-House again, and I think I shall appear in the business, he promising me that if I can bring it about, it will be worth £100 per annum. Then came into the garden to me young Mr. Powell and Mr. Hooke that I once knew at Cambridge, and I took them in and gave them a bottle of wine, and so parted. Then I called for a dish of fish, which we had for dinner, this being the first day of Lent; and I do intend to try whether I can keep it or no. My father dined with me and did show me a letter from my brother John, wherein he tells us that he is chosen Schollar of the house,954 which do please me much, because I do perceive now it must chiefly come from his merit and not the power of his Tutor, Dr. Widdrington, who is now quite out of interest there and hath put over his pupils to Mr. Pepper, a young Fellow of the College. With my father to Mr. Rawlinson’s, where we met my uncle Wight, and after a pint or two away. I walked with my father (who gave me an account of the great falling out between my uncle Fenner and his son Will)955 as far as Paul’s Churchyard, and so left him, and I home. This day the Commissioners of Parliament begin to pay off the Fleet, beginning with the Hampshire,956 and do it at Guildhall, for fear of going out of town into the power of the seamen, who are highly incensed against them.
. Early to wait on my Lord, and after a little talk with him I took boat at Whitehall for Redriffe, but in my way overtook Captain Cuttance and Teddiman in a boat and so ashore with them at Queenhithe, and so to a tavern with them to a barrel of oysters, and so away. Capt. Cuttance and I walked from Redriffe to Deptford, where I found both Sir Williams and Sir G. Carteret at Mr. Uthwayt’s, and there we dined, and notwithstanding my resolution, yet for want of other victuals, I did eat flesh this Lent, but am resolved to eat as little as I can. After dinner we went to Captain Bodilaw’s, and there made sale of many old stores by the candle, and good sport it was to see how from a small matter bid at first they would come to double and treble the price of things. After that Sir W. Penn and I and my Lady Batten and her daughter by land to Redriffe, staying a little at halfway house, and when we came to take boat, found Sir George, etc., to have stayed with the barge a great while for us, which troubled us. Home and to bed. This month ends with two great secrets under dispute but yet known to very few: first, Who the King will marry; and What the meaning of this fleet is which we are now sheathing to set out for the southward. Most think against Algier against the Turk, or to the East Indies against the Dutch who, we hear, are setting out a great fleet thither.
March 1660–61
. All the morning at the office. Dined at home only upon fish, and Mr. Shepley and Tom Hater with me. After dinner Mr. Shepley and I in private talking about my Lord’s intentions to go speedily into the country, but to what end we know not. We fear he is to go to sea with this fleet now preparing. But we wish that he could get his £4,000 per annum settled before he do go. Then he and I walked into London, he to the Wardrobe and I to Whitefryars, and saw The Bondman957 acted; an excellent play and well done. But above all that ever I saw, Betterton958 do the Bond man the best. Then to my father’s and found my mother ill. After staying a while with them, I went home and sat up late, spending my thoughts how to get money to bear me out in my great expense at the Coronacion, against which all provide, and scaffolds setting up in every street. I had many designs in my head to get some, but know not which will take. To bed.
. Early with Mr. Moore about Sir Paul Neale’s959 business with my uncle and other things all the morning. Dined with him at Mr. Crew’s, and after dinner I went to the Theatre, where I found so few people (which is strange, and the reason I did not know) that I went out again, and so to Salsbury Court, where the house as full as could be; and it seems it was a new play, The Queen’s Mask,960 wherein there are some good humours: among others, a good jeer to the old story of the Siege of Troy, making it to be a common country tale. But above all it was strange to see so little a boy as that was to act Cupid, which is one of the greatest parts in it. Then home and to bed.
. Mr. Woodcocke961 preached at our church a very good sermon upon the imaginacions of the thoughts of man’s heart being only evil. So home, where being told that my Lord had sent for me I went, and got there to dine with my Lord, who is to go into the country tomorrow. I did give up the mortgage made to me by Sir R. Parkhurst for £2,000. In the Abby all the afternoon. Then at Mr. Pierce’s the surgeon, where Shepley and I supped. So to my Lord’s, who comes in late and tells us how news is come today of Mazarin’s962 being dead, which is very great news and of great consequence. I lay tonight with Mr. Shepley here, because of my Lord’s going tomorrow.
. My Lord went this morning on his journey to Hinchingbroke, Mr. Parker with him; the chief business being to look over and determine how, and in what manner, his great work of building shall be done. Before his going he did give me some jewels to keep for him, viz., that that the King of Sweden did give him, with the King’s own picture in it,963 most excellently done; and a brave George, all of diamonds, and this with the greatest expressions of love and confidence that I could imagine or hope for, which is a very great joy to me. To the office all the forenoon. Then to dinner and so to Whitehall to Mr. Coventry about several businesses, and then with Mr. Moore, who went with me to drink a cup of ale, and after some good discourse then home and sat late talking with Sir W. Batten. So home and to bed.
. With Mr. Pierce, purser, to Westminster Hall, and there met with Captain Cuttance, Lieut. Lambert, and Pierce, surgeon, thinking to have met with the Commissioners of Parliament, but they not sitting, we went to the Swan, where I did give them a barrel of oysters; and so I to my Lady’s and there dined, and had very much talk and pleasant discourse with my Lady, my esteem growing every day higher and higher in her and my Lord. So to my father Bowyer’s where my wife was, and to the Commissioners of Parliament, and there did take some course about having my Lord’s salary paid tomorrow when the Charles is paid off, but I was troubled to see how high they carry themselves, when in good truth nobody cares for them. So home by coach and my wife. I then to the office, where Sir Williams both and I set about making an estimate of all the officers’ salaries in ordinary in the Navy till 10 o’clock at night. So home, and I with my head full of thoughts how to get a little present money, I eat a bit of bread and cheese, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At dinner Sir W. Batten came and took me and my wife to his house to dinner, my Lady being in the country, where we had a good Lenten dinner. Then to Whitehall with Captn. Cuttle, and there I did some business with Mr. Coventry, and after that home, thinking to have had Sir W. Batten, etc., to have eat a wigg964 at my house at night. But my Lady being come home out of the country ill by reason of much rain that has fallen lately, and the waters being very high, we could not, and so I home and to bed.
. This morning Sir Williams both went to Woolwich to sell some old provisions there. I to Whitehall, and up and down about many businesses. Dined at my Lord’s, then to Mr. Crew to Mr. Moore, and he and I to London to Guildhall to see the seamen paid off, but could not without trouble, and so I took him to the Fleece tavern, where the pretty woman that Luellin lately told me the story of dwells, but I could not see her. Then towards home and met Spicer, D. Vines, Ruddiard, and a company more of my old acquaintance, and went into a place to drink some ale, and there we stayed playing the fool till late, and so I home. At home met with ill news that my hopes of getting some money for the Charles were spoiled through Mr. Waith’s perverseness, which did so vex me that I could not sleep at night. But I wrote a letter to him to send tomorrow morning for him to take my money for me, and so with good words I thought to coy with him. To bed.
. All the morning at the office. At noon Sir W. Batten, Col. Slingsby and I by coach to the Tower, to Sir John Robinson’s, to dinner; where great good cheer. High company; among others the Duchess of Albemarle, who is ever a plain homely dowdy. After dinner, to drink all the afternoon. Towards night the Duchess and ladies went away. Then we set to it again till it was very late. And at last came in Sir William Wale,965 almost fuddled; and because I was set between him and another, only to keep them from talking and spoiling the company (as we did to others), he fell out with the Lieutenant of the Tower; but with much ado we made him understand his error, and then all quiet. And so he carried Sir William Batten and I home again in his coach, and so I almost overcome with drink went to bed. I was much contented to ride in such state into the Tower, and be received among such high company, while Mr. Mount, my Lady Duchess’s gentleman usher, stood waiting at table, whom I ever thought a man so much above me in all respects; also to hear the discourse of so many high Cavaliers of things past. It was a great content and joy to me.
. To Whitehall and there with Mr. Creed took a most pleasant walk for two hours in the park, which is now a very fair place. Here we had a long and candid discourse one to another of one another’s condition, and he giving me an occasion I told him of my intention to get £60 paid me by him for a gratuity for my labour extraordinary at sea. Which he did not seem unwilling to, and therefore I am very glad it is out. To my Lord’s, where we found him lately come from Hinchingbroke, where he left my uncle very well, but my aunt not likely to live. I stayed and dined with him. He took me aside, and asked me what the world spoke of the King’s marriage. Which I answering as one that knew nothing, he enquired no further of me. But I do perceive by it that there is something in it that is ready to come out that the world knows not of yet. After dinner into London to Mrs. Turner’s and my father’s, made visits and then home, where I sat late making of my journal for four days past, and so to bed.
. Heard Mr. Mills in the morning, a good sermon. Dined at home on a poor Lenten dinner of coleworts and bacon. In the afternoon again to church, and there heard one Castle, whom I knew of my year at Cambridge. He made a dull sermon. After sermon came my uncle and aunt Wight to see us, and we sat together a great while. Then to reading and at night to bed.
. At the office all the morning, dined at home and my father and Dr. Thos. Pepys with him upon a poor dinner, my wife being abroad. After dinner I went to the theatre, and there saw Love’s Mistress966 done by them, which I do not like in some things as well as their acting in Salsbury Court. At night home and found my wife come home, and among other things she hath got her teeth new done by La Roche, and are indeed now pretty handsome, and I was much pleased with it. So to bed.
. At the office about business all the morning, so to the Exchange, and there met with Nick Osborne lately married, and with him to the Fleece, where we drank a glass of wine. So home, where I found Mrs. Hunt in great trouble about her husband’s losing of his place in the Excise. From thence to Guildhall, and there set my hand to the book before Colonel King for my sea pay, and blessed be God! they have cast me at midshipman’s pay, which do make my heart very glad. So, home, and there had Sir W. Batten and my Lady and all their company and Capt. Browne and his wife to a collation at my house till it was late, and then to bed.
. Early up in the morning to read The Seaman’s Grammar and Dictionary I lately have got, which do please me exceeding well. At the office all the morning, dined at home, and Mrs. Turner, The. Joyce, and Mr. Armiger, and my father and mother with me, where they stand till I was weary of their company and so away. Then up to my chamber, and there set papers and things in order, and so to bed.
. With Sir W. Batten and Penn to Mr. Coventry’s, and there had a dispute about my claim to the place of Purveyor of Petty-provisions, and at last to my content did conclude to have my hand to all the bills for these provisions and Mr. Turner to purvey them, because I would not have him to lose the place. Then to my Lord’s, and so with Mr. Creed to an alehouse, where he told me a long story of his amours at Portsmouth to one of Mrs. Boat’s daughters, which was very pleasant. Dined with my Lord and Lady, and so with Mr. Creed to the Theatre, and there saw King and No King,967 well acted. Thence with him to the Cock alehouse at Temple Bar, where he did ask my advice about his amours, and I did give him it, which was to enquire into the condition of his competitor, who is a son of Mr. Gauden’s, and that I promised to do for him, and he to make [what] use he can of it to his advantage. Home and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Sir Williams both and I at a great fish dinner at the Dolphin, given us by two tax merchants, and very merry we were till night, and so home. This day my wife and Pall went to see my Lady Kingston, her brother’s968 lady.
. Early at Sir Wm. Penn’s, and there before Mr. Turner did reconcile the business of the purveyance between us two. Then to Whitehall to my Lord’s, and dined with him, and so to Whitefriars and saw The Spanish Curate,969 in which I had no great content. So home, and was very much troubled that Will. stayed out late, and went to bed early, intending not to let him come in, but by and by he comes and I did let him in, and he did tell me that he was at Guildhall helping to pay off the seamen, and cast the books late. Which since I found to be true. So to sleep, being in bed when he came.
. At church in the morning, a stranger preached a good honest and painful sermon. My wife and I dined upon a chine of beef at Sir W. Batten’s, so to church again. Then home, and put some papers in order. Then to supper at Sir W. Batten’s again, where my wife by chance fell down and hurt her knees exceedingly. So home and to bed.
. This morning early Sir W. Batten went to Rochester, where he expects to be chosen Parliament970 man. At the office all the morning, dined at home and with my wife to Westminster, where I had business with the Commissioner for paying the seamen about my Lord’s pay, and my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s. I called her home, and made inquiry at Greatorex’s and in other places to hear of Mr. Barlow (thinking to hear that he is dead), but I cannot find it so, but the contrary. Home and called at my Lady Batten’s, and supped there, and so home. This day an ambassador from Florence was brought into the town in state. Good hopes given me today that Mrs. Davis is going away from us, her husband going shortly to Ireland. Yesterday it was said was to be the day that the Princess Henrietta was to marry the Duke d’Anjou971 in France. This day I found in the news-booke that Roger Pepys is chosen at Cambridge for the town, the first place that we hear of to have made their choice yet. To bed with my head and mind full of business, which do a little put me out of order, and I do find myself to become more and more thoughtful about getting of money than ever heretofore.
. We met at the office this morning about some particular business, and then I to Whitehall, and there dined with my Lord, and after dinner Mr. Creed and I to White-Fryars, where we saw The Bondman acted most excellently, and though I have seen it often, yet I am every time more and more pleased with Betterton’s action. From thence with him and young Mr. Jones to Penell’s in Fleet Street, and there we drank and talked a good while, and so I home and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, dined at home and Mr. Creed and Mr. Shepley with me, and after dinner we did a good deal of business in my study about my Lord’s accounts to be made up and presented to our office. That done to Whitehall to Mr. Coventry, where I did some business with him, and so with Sir W. Penn (who I found with Mr. Coventry teaching of him upon the map to understand Jamaica).972 By water in the dark home, and so to my Lady Batten’s where my wife was, and there we sat and eat and drank till very late, and so home to bed. The great talk of the town is the strange election that the City of London made yesterday for Parliament-men; viz. Fowke, Love, Jones, and … ,973 men that are so far from being episcopall that they are thought to be Anabaptists; and chosen with a great deal of zeal, in spite of the other party that thought themselves very strong, calling out in the Hall, “No Bishops! no Lord Bishops!” It do make people to fear it may come to worse, by being an example to the country to do the same. And indeed the Bishops are so high, that very few do love them.
. Up very early, and to work and study in my chamber, and then to Whitehall to my Lord, and there did stay with him a good while discoursing upon his accounts. Here I stayed with Mr. Creed all the morning, and at noon dined with my Lord, who was very merry, and after dinner we sang and fiddled a great while. Then I by water (Mr. Shepley, Pinkney, and others going part of the way) home, and then hard at work setting my papers in order, and writing letters till night, and so to bed. This day I saw the Florence Ambassador go to his audience, the weather very foul, and yet he and his company very gallant. After I was abed Sir W. Penn sent to desire me to go with him tomorrow morning to meet Sir W. Batten coming from Rochester.
. This morning I rose early, and my Lady Batten knocked at her door that comes into one of my chambers, and called me to know whether I and my wife were ready to go. So my wife got her ready, and about eight o’clock I got a horseback, and my Lady and her two daughters, and Sir W. Penn into coach, and so over London Bridge, and thence to Dartford. The day very pleasant, though the way bad. Here we met with Sir W. Batten, and some company along with him, who had assisted him in his election at Rochester; and so we dined and were very merry. At 5 o’clock we set out again in a coach home, and were very merry all the way. At Deptford we met with Mr. Newborne, and some other friends and their wives in a coach to meet us, and so they went home with us, and at Sir W. Batten’s we supped, and thence to bed, my head aching mightily through the wine that I drank today.
. All the morning at home putting papers in order, dined at home, and then out to the Red Bull974 (where I had not been since plays come up again), but coming too soon I went out again and walked all up and down the Charterhouse yard and Aldersgate street. At last came back again and went in, where I was led by a seaman that knew me, but is here as a servant, up to the tiring-room, where strange the confusion and disorder that there is among them in fitting themselves, especially here, where the clothes are very poor, and the actors but common fellows. At last into the Pit, where I think there was not above ten more than myself, and not one hundred in the whole house. And the play, which is called All’s Lost by Lust,975 poorly done; and with so much disorder, among others, that in the music-room the boy that was to sing a song, not singing it right, his master fell about his ears and beat him so, that it put the whole house in an uproar. Thence homewards, and at the Mitre met my uncle Wight, and with him Lieut.-Col. Baron,976 who told us how Crofton,977 the great Presbyterian minister that had lately preached so highly against Bishops, is clapped up this day into the Tower. Which do please some, and displease others exceedingly. Home and to bed.
. My wife and I to church, and then home with Sir W. Batten and my Lady to dinner, where very merry, and then to church again, where Mr. Mills made a good sermon. Home again, and after a walk in the garden Sir W. Batten’s two daughters came and sat with us a while, and I then up to my chamber to read.
. This morning came workmen to begin the making of me a new pair of stairs up out of my parlor, which, with other work that I have to do, I doubt will keep me this two months and so long I shall be all in dirt; but the work do please me very well. To the office, and there all the morning, dined at home, and after dinner comes Mr. Salisbury to see me, and showed me a face or two of his paynting, and indeed I perceive that he will be a great master. I took him to Whitehall with me by water, but he would not by any means be moved to go through bridge, and so we were fain to go round by the Old Swan. To my Lord’s and there I showed him the King’s picture, which he intends to copy out in little. After that I and Captain Ferrers to Salisbury Court by water, and saw part of the Queen’s Mask. Then I to Mrs. Turner, and there stayed talking late. The. Turner being in a great chafe, about being disappointed of a room to stand in at the Coronacion. Then to my father’s, and there stayed talking with my mother and him late about my dinner tomorrow. So homewards and took up a boy that had a lantern, that was picking up of rags, and got him to light me home, and had great discourse with him how he could get sometimes three or four bushells of rags in a day, and got 3d. a bushell for them, and many other discourses, what and how many ways there are for poor children to get their livings honestly. So home and I to bed at 12 o’clock at night, being pleased well with the work that my workmen have begun today.
. Up early to do business in my study. This is my great day that three years ago I was cut of the stone, and, blessed be God, I do yet find myself very free from pain again. All this morning I stayed at home looking after my workmen to my great content about my stairs, and at noon by coach to my father’s, where Mrs. Turner, The. Joyce, Mr. Morrice, Mr. Armiger, Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and his wife, my father and mother, and myself and my wife. Very merry at dinner; among other things, because Mrs. Turner and her company eat no flesh at all this Lent, and I had a great deal of good flesh which made their mouths water. After dinner Mrs. Pierce and her husband and I and my wife to Salisbury Court, where coming late he and she light of Col. Boone that made room for them, and I and my wife sat in the pit, and there met with Mr. Lewes and Tom Whitton, and saw The Bondman done to admiration. So home by coach, and after a view of what the workmen had done today I went to bed.
. Up early to see my workmen at work. My brother Tom comes to me, and among other things I looked over my old clothes and did give him a suit of black stuff clothes and a hat and some shoes. At the office all the morning, where Sir G. Carteret comes, and there I did get him to promise me some money upon a bill of exchange, whereby I shall secure myself of £60 which otherwise I should not know how to get. At noon I found my stairs quite broke down, that I could not get up but by a ladder; and my wife not being well she kept her chamber all this day. To the Dolphin to a dinner of Mr. Harris’s, where Sir Williams both and my Lady Batten, and her two daughters, and other company, where a great deal of mirth, and there stayed till 11 o’clock at night; and in our mirth I sang and sometimes fiddled (there being a noise978 of fiddlers there), and at last we fell to dancing, the first time that ever I did in my life, which I did wonder to see myself to do. At last we made Mingo, Sir W. Batten’s black, and Jack, Sir W. Penn’s, dance, and it was strange how the first did dance with a great deal of seeming skill. Home, where I found my wife all day in her chamber. So to bed.
. Up early among my workmen, then Mr. Creed coming to see me I went along with him to Sir Robert Slingsby (he being newly maister of that title by being made a Baronett) to discourse about Mr. Creed’s accounts to be made up, and from thence by coach to my cousin Thomas Pepys, to borrow £1,000 for my Lord, which I am to expect an answer to tomorrow. So to my Lord’s, and there stayed and dined, and after dinner did get my Lord to view Mr. Shepley’s accounts as I had examined them, and also to sign me a bond for my £500. Then with Mr. Shepley to the Theatre and saw Rollo979 ill acted. That done to drink a cup of ale and so by coach to London, and having set him down in Cheapside I went home, where I found a great deal of work done today, and also £70 paid me by the Treasurer upon the bill of exchange that I have had hopes of so long, so that, my heart in great content; I went to bed.
. Up among my workmen with great pleasure. Then to the office, where I found Sir W. Penn sent down yesterday to Chatham to get two great ships in readiness presently to go to the East Indies upon some design against the Dutch, we think, at Goa980 but it is a great secret yet. Dined at home, came Mr. Shepley and Moore, and did business with both of them. After that to Sir W. Batten’s, where great store of company at dinner. Among others my schoolfellow, Mr. Christmas, where very merry, and hither came letters from above for the fitting of two other ships for the East Indies in all haste, and so we got orders presently for the Hampshire and Nonsuch. Then home and there put some papers in order, and not knowing what to do, the house being so dirty, I went to bed.
. At the office we and Sir W. Rider to advise what sort of provisions to get ready for these ships going to the Indies. Then the Comptroller and I by water to Mr. Coventry, and there discoursed upon the same thing. So to my coz. Tho. Pepys, and got him to promise me £1,000 to lend my Lord upon his and my uncle Robert’s and my security. So to my Lord’s, and there got him to sign a bond to him, which I also signed too, and he did sign counter security to us both. Then into London up and down and drank a pint of wine with Mr. Creed, and so home and sent a letter and the bonds to my uncle to sign for my Lord. This day I spoke with Dr. Castle about making up the dividend for the last quarter, and agreed to meet about it on Monday.
. At church, where a stranger preached like a fool. From thence home and dined with my wife, she staying at home, being unwilling to dress herself, the house being all dirty. To church again, and after sermon I walked to my father’s, and to Mrs. Turner’s, where I could not woo The. to give me a lesson upon the harpsicon and was angry at it. So home and finding Will abroad at Sir W. Batten’s talking with the people there (Sir W. and my Lady being in the country), I took occasion to be angry with him, and so to prayers and to bed.
April 1661
. This day my waiting at the Privy Seal comes in again. Up early among my workmen. So to the office, and went home to dinner with Sir W. Batten, and after that to the Goat tavern by Charing Cross to meet Dr. Castle, where he and I drank a pint of wine and talked about Privy Seal business. Then to the Privy Seal Office and there found Mr. Moore, but no business yet. Then to Whitefryars, and there saw part of Rule a Wife and Have a Wife,981 which I never saw before, but do not like it. So to my father, and there finding a discontent between my father and mother about the maid (which my father likes and my mother dislikes), I stayed till 10 at night, persuading my mother to understand herself, and that in some high words, which I was sorry for, but she is grown, poor woman, very froward. So leaving them in the same discontent I went away home, it being a brave moonshine, and to bed.
. Among my workmen early and then along with my wife and Pall to my Father’s by coach there to have them lie a while till my house be done. I found my mother alone weeping upon my last night’s quarrel and so left her, and took my wife to Charing Cross and there left her to see her mother who is not well. So I into St. James’s Park, where I saw the Duke of York playing at Pelemele,982 the first time that ever I saw the sport. Then to my Lord’s, where I dined with my Lady, and after we had dined in comes my Lord and Ned Pickering hungry, and there was not a bit of meat left in the house, the servants having eat up all, at which my Lord was very angry, and at last got something dressed. Then to the Privy Seal, and signed some things, and so to White-fryars and saw The Little Thiefe,983 which is a very merry and pretty play, and the little boy do very well. Then to my Father’s, where I found my mother and my wife in a very good mood, and so left them and went home. Then to the Dolphin to Sir W. Batten, and Penn, and other company; among others Mr. Delabar; where strange how these men, who at other times are all wise men, do now, in their drink, betwit and reproach one another with their former conditions, and their actions as in public concernments, till I was ashamed to see it. But parted all friends at 12 at night after drinking a great deal of wine. So home and alone to bed.
. Up among my workmen, my head aching all day from last night’s debauch. To the office all the morning, and at noon dined with Sir W. Batten and Penn, who would needs have me drink two draughts of sack today to cure me of last night’s disease, which I thought strange but I think find it true.984 Then home with my workmen all the afternoon, at night into the garden to play on my flageolet, it being moonshine, where I stayed a good while, and so home and to bed. This day I hear that the Dutch have sent the King a great present of money, which we think will stop the match with Portugal; and judge this to be the reason that our so great haste in sending the two ships to the East Indies is also stayed.
. To my workmen, then to my Lord’s, and there dined with Mr. Shepley. After dinner I went in to my Lord and there we had a great deal of music, and then came my cousin Tom Pepys and there did accept of the security which we gave him for his £1,000 that we borrow of him, and so the money to be paid next week. Then to the Privy Seal, and so with Mr. Moore to my father’s, where some friends did sup there and we with them and late went home, leaving my wife still there. So to bed.
. Up among my workmen and so to the office, and then to Sir W. Penn’s with the other Sir William and Sir John Lawson to dinner, and after that, with them to Mr. Lucy’s, a merchant, where much good company, and there drank a great deal of wine, and in discourse fell to talk of the weight of people, which did occasion some wagers, and where, among others, I won half a piece to be spent. Then home, and at night to Sir W. Batten’s, and there very merry with a good barrell of oysters, and this is the present life I lead. Home and to bed.
. Up among my workmen, then to Whitehall, and there at Privy Seal and elsewhere did business, and among other things met with Mr. Townsend, who told of his mistake the other day, to put both his legs through one of his knees of his breeches, and went so all day. Then with Mr. Creed and Moore to the Leg in the Palace to dinner which I gave them, and after dinner I saw the girl of the house, being very pretty, go into a chamber, and I went in after her and kissed her. Then by water, Creed and I, to Salisbury Court and there saw Love’s Quarrell985 acted the first time, but I do not like the design or words. So calling at my father’s, where they and my wife well, and so home and to bed.
. All the morning at home making up my accounts (God forgive me!) to give up to my Lord this afternoon. Then about 11 o’clock out of doors towards Westminster and put in at Paul’s, where I saw our minister, Mr. Mills, preaching before my Lord Mayor. So to Whitehall, and there I met with Dr. Fuller of Twickenham, newly come from Ireland; and took him to my Lord’s, where he and I dined; and he did give my Lord and me a good account of the condition of Ireland, and how it come to pass, through the joining of the Fanatics and the Presbyterians, that the latter and the former are in their declaration put together under the names of Fanatics. After dinner, my Lord and I and Mr. Shepley did look over our accounts and settle matters of money between us; and my Lord did tell me much of his mind about getting money and other things of his family, etc. Then to my father’s, where I found Mr. Hunt and his wife at supper with my father and mother and my wife, where after supper I left them and so home, and then I went to Sir W. Batten’s and resolved of a journey tomorrow to Chatham, and so home and to bed.
. Up early, my Lady Batten knocking at her door that comes into one of my chambers. I did give directions to my people and workmen, and so about 8 o’clock we took barge at the Tower, Sir William Batten and his lady, Mrs. Turner, Mr. Fowler and I. A very pleasant passage and so to Gravesend, where we dined, and from thence a coach took them and me, and Mr. Fowler with some others came from Rochester to meet us, on horseback. At Rochester, where alight at Mr. Alcock’s and there drank and had good sport, with his bringing out so many sorts of cheese. Then to the Hillhouse at Chatham,986 where I never was before, and I found a pretty pleasant house and am pleased with the arms that hang up there. Here we supped very merry, and late to bed; Sir William telling me that old Edgeborrow,987 his predecessor, did die and walk in my chamber, did make me some what afeard, but not so much as for mirth’s sake I did seem. So to bed in the treasurer’s chamber.
. And lay and slept well till 3 in the morning, and then waking, and by the light of the moon I saw my pillow (which overnight I flung from me) stand upright, but not bethinking myself what it might be, I was a little afeard, but sleep overcame all and so lay till high morning, at which time I had a candle brought me and a good fire made, and in general it was a great pleasure all the time I stayed here to see how I am respected and honoured by all people; and I find that I begin to know now how to receive so much reverence, which at the beginning I could not tell how to do. Sir William and I by coach to the dock and there viewed all the storehouses and the old goods that are this day to be sold, which was great pleasure to me, and so back again by coach home, where we had a good dinner, and among other strangers that come, there was Mr. Hempson and his wife, a pretty woman, and speaks Latin; Mr. Allen and two daughters of his, both very tall and the youngest very handsome,988 so much as I could not forbear to love her exceedingly, having, among other things, the best hand that ever I saw. After dinner, we went to fit books and things (Tom Hater being this morning come to us) for the sale, by an inch of candle, and very good sport we and the ladies that stood by had, to see the people bid. Among other things sold there was all the State’s arms,989 which Sir W. Batten bought; intending to set up some of the images in his garden, and the rest to burn on the Coronacion night. The sale being done, the ladies and I and Captain Pett990 and Mr. Castle took barge and down we went to see the Sovereign, which we did, taking great pleasure therein, singing all the way, and, among other pleasures, I put my Lady, Mrs. Turner, Mrs. Hempson, and the two Mrs. Allens into the lantern and I went in and kissed them, demanding it as a fee due to a principall officer, with all which we were exceeding merry, and drunk some bottles of wine and neat’s tongue, etc. Then back again home and so supped, and after much mirth to bed.
. In the morning to see the Dockhouses. First, Mr. Pett’s, the builder, and there was very kindly received, and among other things he did offer my Lady Batten a parrot, the best I ever saw, that knew Mingo991 so soon as it saw him, having been bred formerly in the house with them; but for talking and singing I never heard the like. My Lady did accept of it. Then to see Commissioner Pett’s house, he and his family being absent, and here I wondered how my Lady Batten walked up and down with envious looks to see how neat and rich everything is (and indeed both the house and garden is most handsome), saying that she would get it, for it belonged formerly to the Surveyor of the Navy. Then on board the Prince,992 now in the dock, and indeed it has one and no more rich cabins for carved work, but no gold in her. After that back home, and there eat a little dinner. Then to Rochester, and there saw the Cathedrall, which is now fitting for use, and the organ then a-tuning. Then away thence, observing the great doors of the church, which, they say, was covered with the skins of the Danes,993 and also had much mirth at a tomb, on which was “Come sweet Jesu,” and I read “Come sweet Mall,” etc., at which Captain Pett and I had good laughter. So to the Salutacion tavern, where Mr. Alcock and many of the town came and entertained us with wine and oysters and other things, and hither come Sir John Minnes994 to us, who is come today to see the Henery, in which he intends to ride as Vice-Admiral in the narrow seas all this summer. Here much mirth, but I was a little troubled to stay too long, because of going to Hempson’s, which afterwards we did, and found it in all things a most pretty house, and rarely furnished, only it had a most ill access on all sides to it, which is a greatest fault that I think can be in a house. Here we had, for my sake, two fiddles, the one a bass viol, on which he that played, played well some lyra lessons, but both together made the worst music that ever I heard. We had a fine collacion, but I took little pleasure in that, for the illness of the music and for the intentness of my mind upon Mrs. Rebecca Allen. After we had done eating, the ladies went to dance, and among the men we had, I was forced to dance too; and did make an ugly shift. Mrs. R. Allen danced very well, and seems the best humoured woman that ever I saw. About 9 o’clock Sir William and my Lady went home, and we continued dancing an hour or two, and so broke up very pleasant and merry, and so walked home, I leading Mrs. Rebecca, who seemed, I know not why, in that and other things, to be desirous of my favours and would in all things show me respects. Going home, she would needs have me sing, and I did pretty well and was highly esteemed by them. So to Captain Allen’s (where we were last night, and heard him play on the harpsicon, and I find him to be a perfect good musician), and there, having no mind to leave Mrs. Rebecca, what with talk and singing (her father and I), Mrs. Turner and I stayed there till 2 o’clock in the morning and was most exceeding merry, and I had the opportunity of kissing Mrs. Rebecca very often. Among other things Captain Pett was saying that he thought that he had got his wife with child since I came thither. Which I took hold of and was merrily asking him what he would take to have it said for my honour that it was of my getting? He merrily answered that he would if I would promise to be godfather to it if it did come within the time just, and I said that I would. So that I must remember to compute it when the time comes.
. At 2 o’clock, with very great mirth, we went to our lodging and to bed, and lay till 7, and then called up by Sir W. Batten, so I arose and we did some business, and then came Captn. Allen, and he and I withdrew and sang a song or two, and among others took pleasure in “Goe and bee hanged, that’s goodbye.” The young ladies come too, and so I did again please myself with Mrs. Rebecca, and about 9 o’clock, after we had breakfasted, we set forth for London, and indeed I was a little troubled to part with Mrs. Rebecca, for which God forgive me. Thus we went away through Rochester, calling and taking leave of Mr. Alcock at the door, Capt. Cuttance going with us. We baited at Dartford, and thence to London, but of all the journeys that ever I made this was the merriest, and I was in a strange mood for mirth. Among other things, I got my Lady to let her maid, Mrs. Anne, to ride all the way on horseback, and she rides exceeding well; and so I called her my clerk, that she went to wait upon me. I met two little schoolboys going with pitchers of ale to their schoolmaster to break up against Easter, and I did drink of some of one of them and give him two pence. By and by we come to two little girls keeping cows, and I saw one of them very pretty, so I had a mind to make her ask my blessing, and telling her that I was her godfather, she asked me innocently whether I was not Ned Wooding, and I said that I was, so she kneeled down and very simply called, “Pray, godfather, pray to God to bless me,” which made us very merry, and I gave her twopence. In several places, I asked women whether they would sell me their children, but they denied me all, but said they would give me one to keep for them, if I would. Mrs. Anne and I rode under the man that hangs upon Shooter’s Hill,995 and a filthy sight it was to see how his flesh is shrunk to his bones. So home and I found all well, and a deal of work done since I went. I sent to see how my wife do, who is well, and my brother John come from Cambridge. To Sir W. Batten’s and there supped, and very merry with the young ladies. So to bed very sleepy for last night’s work, concluding that it is the pleasantest journey in all respects that ever I had in my life.
. Up among my workmen, and about 7 o’clock comes my wife to see me and my brother John with her, who I am glad to see, but I sent them away because of going to the office, and there dined with Sir W. Batten, all fish dinner, it being Good Friday. Then home and looking over my workmen, and then into the City and saw in what forwardness all things are for the Coronacion, which will be very magnificent. Then back again home and to my chamber, to set down in my diary all my late journey, which I do with great pleasure; and while I am now writing comes one with a ticket to invite me to Captain Robert Blake’s buriall, for whose death I am very sorry, and do much wonder at it, he being a little while since a very likely man to live as any I knew. Since my going out of town, there is one Alexander Rosse taken and sent to the Counter by Sir Thomas Allen, for counterfeiting my hand to a ticket, and we this day at the office have given order to Mr. Smith to prosecute him. To bed.
. To Whitehall by water from Tower-wharf, where we could not pass the ordinary way, because they were mending of the great stone steps against the Coronacion. With Sir W. Penn, then to my Lord’s, and thence with Capt. Cuttance and Capt. Clark to drink our morning draught together, and before we could get back again my Lord was gone out. So to Whitehall again and, met with my Lord above with the Duke; and after a little talk with him, I went to the Banquethouse, and there saw the King heal, the first time that ever I saw him do it; which he did with great gravity, and it seemed to me to be an ugly office and a simple one. That done to my Lord’s and dined there, and so by water with parson Turner996 towards London, and upon my telling of him of Mr. Moore to be a fit man to do his business with Bishop Wren,997 about which he was going, he went back out of my boat into another to Whitehall, and so I forwards home and there by and by took coach with Sir W. Penn and Captain Terne and went to the buriall of Captain Robert Blake, at Wapping, and there had each of us a ring, but it being dirty, we would not go to church with them, but with our coach we returned home, and there stayed a little, and then he and I alone to the Dolphin (Sir W. Batten being this day gone with his wife to Walthamstow to keep Easter), and there had a supper by ourselves, we both being very hungry, and staying there late drinking I became very sleepy, and so we went home and I to bed.
. Lord’s day). In the morning towards my father’s, and by the way heard Mr. Jacomb,998 at Ludgate, upon these words, “Christ loved you and therefore let us love one another,” and made a lazy sermon, like a Presbyterian. Then to my father’s and dined there, and Dr. Fairbrother (lately come to town) with us. After dinner I went to the Temple and there heard Dr. Griffith,999 a good sermon for the day; so with Mr. Moore (whom I met there) to my Lord’s, and there he showed me a copy of my Lord Chancellor’s patent for Earl, and I read the preamble, which is very short, modest, and good. Here my Lord saw us and spoke to me about getting Mr. Moore to come and govern his house while he goes to sea, which I promised him to do and did afterwards speak to Mr. Moore, and he is willing. Then hearing that Mr. Barnwell1000 was come, with some of my Lord’s little children, yesterday to town, to see the Coronacion, I went and found them at the Goat, at Charing Cross, and there I went and drank with them a good while, whom I found in very good health and very merry. Then to my father’s, and after supper seemed willing to go home, and my wife seeming to be so too I went away in a discontent, but she, poor wretch, followed me as far in the rain and dark as Fleet Bridge to fetch me back again, and so I did, and lay with her tonight, which I have not done these eight or ten days before.
. From my father’s, it being a very foul morning for the King and Lords to go to Windsor, I went to the office and there met Mr. Coventry and Sir Robt. Slingsby, but did no business, but only appoint to go to Deptford together tomorrow. Mr. Coventry being gone, and I having at home laid up £200 which I had brought this morning home from Alderman Backwell’s, I went home by coach with Sir R. Slingsby and dined with him, and had a very good dinner. His lady1001 seems a good woman and very desirous they were to hear this noon by the post how the election has gone at Newcastle,1002 wherein he is concerned, but the letters are not come yet. To my uncle Wight’s, and after a little stay with them he and I to Mr. Rawlinson’s, and there stayed all the afternoon, it being very foul, and had a little talk with him what good I might make of these ships that go to Portugal by venturing some money by them, and he will give me an answer to it shortly. So home and sent for the Barber, and after that to bed.
. So soon as word was brought me that Mr. Coventry was come with the barge to the Tower, I went to him, and found him reading of the Psalms in short hand (which he is now busy about), and had good sport about the long marks that are made there for sentences in divinity, which he is never like to make use of. Here he and I sat till the Comptroller came and then we put off for Deptford, where we went on board the King’s pleasure boat that Commissioner Pett is making, and indeed it will be a most pretty thing. From thence to Commr. Pett’s lodging, and there had a good breakfast, and in came the two Sir Wms. from Walthamstow, and so we sat down and did a great deal of public business about the fitting of the fleet that is now going out. That done we went to the Globe and there had a good dinner, and by and by took barge again and so home. By the way they would have me sing, which I did to Mr. Coventry, who went up to Sir William Batten’s, and there we stayed and talked a good while, and then broke up and I home, and then to my father’s and there lay with my wife.
. By land and saw the arches,1003 which are now almost done and are very fine, and I saw the picture of the ships and other things this morning, set up before the East Indy House,1004 which are well done. So to the office, and that being done I went to dinner with Sir W. Batten, and then home to my workmen, and saw them go on with great content to me. Then comes Mr. Allen of Chatham, and I took him to the Mitre and there did drink with him, and did get of him the song that pleased me so well there the other day, “Of Shitten come Shites the beginning of love.” His daughters are to come to town tomorrow, but I know not whether I shall see them or no. That done I went to the Dolphin by appointment and there I met Sir Wms. both and Mr. Castle, and did eat a barrel of oysters and two lobsters, which I did give them, and were very merry. Here we had great talk of Mr. Warren’s being knighted by the King, and Sir W. B. seemed to be very much incensed against him. So home.
. Up with my workmen and then about 9 o’clock took horse with both the Sir Williams for Walthamstow, and there we found my Lady and her daughters all; and a pleasant day it was, and all things else, but that my Lady was in a bad mood, which we were troubled at, and had she been noble she would not have been so with her servants, when we came thither, and this Sir W. Penn took notice of, as well as I. After dinner we all went to the Church stile,1005 and there eat and drank, and I was as merry as I could counterfeit myself to be. Then, it raining hard, we left Sir W. Batten, and we two returned and called at Mr. ⸻, and drank some brave wine there, and then homewards again and in our way met with two country fellows upon one horse, which I did, without much ado, give the way to, but Sir W. Penn would not, but struck them and they him, and so passed away, but they giving him some high words, he went back again and struck them off their horse, in a simple fury, and without much honour, in my mind, and so came away. Home, and I sat with him a good while talking, and then home and to bed.
. Among my workmen and then to the office, and after that dined with Sir W. Batten, and then home, where Sir W. Warren came, and I took him and Mr. Shepley and Moore with me to the Mitre, and there I cleared with Warren for the deals I bought lately for my Lord of him, and he went away, and we stayed afterwards a good while and talked, and so parted, it being so foul that I could not go to Whitehall to see the Knights of the Bath1006 made today, which do trouble me mightily. So home, and having stayed awhile till Will came in (with whom I was vexed for staying abroad), he comes and then I went by water to my father’s, and then after supper to bed with my wife.
. Here comes my boy to tell me that the Duke of York had sent for all the principal officers, etc., to come to him today. So I went by water to Mr. Coventry’s, and there stayed and talked a good while with him till all the rest come. We went up and saw the Duke dress himself, and in his night habit he is a very plain man. Then he sent us to his closet, where we saw among other things two very fine chests, covered with gold and Indian varnish, given him by the East Indy Company of Holland. The Duke comes; and after he had told us that the fleet was designed for Algier (which was kept from us till now), we did advise about many things as to the fitting of the fleet, and so went away. And from thence to the Privy Seal, where little to do, and after that took Mr. Creed and Moore and gave them their morning draught, and after that to my Lord’s, where Sir W. Penn came to me, and dined with my Lord. After dinner he and others that dined there went away, and then my Lord looked upon his pages’ and footmen’s liveries, which are come home today, and will be handsome, though not gaudy. Then with my Lady and my Lady Wright to Whitehall; and in the Banqueting-house saw the King create my Lord Chancellor and several others, Earls,1007 and Mr. Crew and several others, Barons:1008 the first being led up by Heralds and five old Earls to the King, and there the patent is read, and the King puts on his vest, and sword, and coronet, and gives him the patent. And then he kisseth the King’s hand, and rises and stands covered before the king. And the same for the Barons, only he is led up but by three of the old Barons, and are girt with swords before they go to the King. That being done (which was very pleasant to see their habits), I carried my Lady back, and I found my Lord angry, for that his page had let my Lord’s new beaver be changed for an old hat; then I went away, and with Mr. Creed to the Exchange and bought some things, as gloves and bandstrings, etc. So back to the Cockpit,1009 and there, by the favour of one Mr. Bowman, he and I got in, and there saw the King and Duke of York and his Duchess (which is a plain woman, and like her mother, my Lady Chancellor). And so saw The Humersome Lieutenant1010 acted before the King, but not very well done. But my pleasure was great to see the manner of it, and so many great beauties, but above all Mrs. Palmer, with whom the King do discover a great deal of familiarity. So Mr. Creed and I (the play being done) went to Mrs. Harper’s, and there sat and drank, it being about twelve at night. The ways being now so dirty, and stopped up with the rails which are this day set up in the streets, I would not go home, but went with him to his lodging at Mr. Ware’s, and there lay all night.
. In the morning we were troubled to hear it rain as it did, because of the great show tomorrow. After I was ready I walked to my father’s and there found the late maid to be gone and another come by my mother’s choice, which my father do not like, and so great difference there will be between my father and mother about it. Here dined Doctor Thos. Pepys and Dr. Fairbrother; and all our talk about tomorrow’s show, and our trouble that it is like to be a wet day. After dinner comes in my coz. Snow and his wife, and I think stay there till the show be over. Then I went home, and all the way is so thronged with people to see the triumphal arches, that I could hardly pass for them. So home, people being at church, and I got home unseen, and so up to my chamber and saw done these last five or six days’ diaries. My mind a little troubled about my workmen, which, being foreigners1011 are like to be troubled by a couple of lazy rogues that worked with me the other day, that are citizens, and so my work will be hindered, but I must prevent it if I can.
Up early and made myself as fine as I could, and put on my velvet coat, the first day that I put it on, though made half a year ago. And being ready, Sir W. Batten, my Lady, and his two daughters and his son and wife, and Sir W. Penn and his son and I, went to Mr. Young’s, the flag-maker, in Corne-hill,1013 and there we had a good room to ourselves, with wine and good cake, and saw the show very well. In which it is impossible to relate the glory of this day, expressed in the clothes of them that rid, and their horses and horses-clothes, among others, my Lord Sandwich’s. Embroidery and diamonds were ordinary among them. The Knights of the Bath was a brave sight of itself; and their Esquires, among which Mr. Armiger was an Esquire to one of the Knights. Remarquable were the two men that represent the two Dukes of Normandy and Aquitane.1014 The Bishops come next after Barons, which is the higher place; which makes me think that the next Parliament they will be called to the House of Lords. My Lord Monk rode bare after the King, and led in his hand a spare horse, as being Master of the Horse. The King, in a most rich embroidered suit and cloak, looked most noble. Wadlow,1015 the vintner, at the Devil,1016 in Fleet-street, did lead a fine company of soldiers, all young comely men, in white doublets. There followed the Vice-Chamberlain, Sir G. Carteret, a company of men all like Turks;1017 but I know not yet what they are for. The streets all gravelled, and the houses hung with carpets before them, made brave show, and the ladies out of the windows, one of which over against us I took much notice of, and spoke of her, which made good sport among us. So glorious was the show with gold and silver, that we were not able to look at it, our eyes at last being so much overcome with it. Both the King and the Duke of York took notice of us, as he saw us at the window. The show being ended, Mr. Young did give us a dinner, at which we were very merry, and pleased above imagination at what we have seen. Sir W. Batten going home, he and I called and drunk some mum1018 and laid our wager about my Lady Faulconbridge’s name,1019 which he says not to be Mary, and so I won above 20s. So home, where Will and the boy stayed and saw the show upon Tower Hill, and Jane at T. Pepys’s, The. Turner, and my wife at Charles Glassecocke’s, in Fleet Street. In the evening by water to Whitehall to my Lord’s, and there I spoke with my Lord. He talked with me about his suit, which was made in France, and cost him £200, and very rich it is with embroidery. I lay with Mr. Shepley, and …
Coronac̃on Day.
… about 4 I rose and got to the Abbey, where I followed Sir J. Denham,1020 the Surveyor, with some company that he was leading in. And with much ado, by the favour of Mr. Cooper, his man, did get up into a great scaffold across the North end of the Abbey, where with a great deal of patience I sat from past 4 till 11 before the King came in. And a great pleasure it was to see the Abbey raised in the middle, all covered with red, and a throne (that is a chair)1021 and footstool on the top of it; and all the officers of all kinds, so much as the very fiddlers, in red vests. At last comes in the Dean1022 and Prebends of Westminster, with the Bishops (many of them in cloth of gold copes), and after them the Nobility, all in their Parliament robes, which was a most magnificent sight. Then the Duke, and the King with a scepter1023 (carried by my Lord Sandwich) and sword and mond1024 before him, and the crown too. The King in his robes, bareheaded, which was very fine. And after all had placed themselves, there was a sermon and the service; and then in the Choir at the high altar, the King passed through all the ceremonies of the Coronac̃on, which to my great grief I and most in the Abbey could not see. The crown being put upon his head, a great shout begun, and he came forth to the throne, and there passed more ceremonies: as taking the oath, and having things read to him by the Bishop;1025 and his lords (who put on their caps as soon as the King put on his crown)1026 and bishops come, and kneeled before him. And three times the King at Arms1027 went to the three open places on the scaffold,1028 and proclaimed, that if anyone could show any reason why Charles Stewart should not be King of England, that now he should come and speak. And a General Pardon also was read by the Lord Chancellor, and meddalls flung up and down by my Lord Cornwallis,1029 of silver, but I could not come by any. But so great a noise that I could make but little of the music; and indeed, it was lost to everybody. But I had so great a lust to … that I went out a little while before the King had done all his ceremonies, and went round the Abbey to Westminster Hall, all the way within rails, and 10,000 people, with the ground covered with blue cloth; and scaffolds all the way. Into the Hall I got, where it was very fine with hangings and scaffolds one upon another full of brave ladies; and my wife in one little one, on the right hand. Here I stayed walking up and down, and at last upon one of the side stalls I stood and saw the King come in with all the persons (but the soldiers) that were yesterday in the cavalcade; and a most pleasant sight it was to see them in their several robes. And the King came in with his crown on, and his sceptre in his hand, under a canopy borne up by six silver staves, carried by Barons of the Cinque Ports,1030 and little bells at every end. And after a long time, he got up to the farther end, and all set themselves down at their several tables; and that was also a brave sight: and the King’s first course carried up by the Knights of the Bath. And many fine ceremonies there was of the Heralds leading up people before him, and bowing; and my Lord of Albemarle’s going to the kitchin and eat a bit of the first dish that was to go to the King’s table. But, above all, was these three Lords, Northumberland,1031 and Suffolk,1032 and the Duke of Ormond,1033 coming before the courses on horseback, and staying so all dinnertime, and at last to bring up [Dymock]1034 the King’s Champion, all in armour on horseback, with his spear and target carried before him. And a Herald1035 proclaims “That if any dare deny Charles Stewart to be lawful King of England, here was a Champion that would fight with him;”1036 and with these words, the Champion flings down his gauntlet, and all this he do three times in his going up towards the King’s table. At last when he is come, the King drinks to him, and then sends him the cup which is of gold, and he drinks it off, and then rides back again with the cup in his hand. I went from table to table to see the Bishops and all others at their dinner, and was infinitely pleased with it. And at the Lords’ table, I met with William Howe, and he spoke to my Lord for me, and he did give me four rabbits and a pullet, and so I got it and Mr. Creed and I got Mr. Michell to give us some bread, and so we at a stall eat it, as everybody else did what they could get. I took a great deal of pleasure to go up and down, and look upon the ladies, and to hear the music of all sorts, but above all, the 24 violins.1037 About six at night they had dined, and I went up to my wife, and there met with a pretty lady (Mrs. Frankleyn, a Doctor’s wife, a friend of Mr. Bowyer’s), and kissed them both, and by and by took them down to Mr. Bowyer’s. And strange it is to think, that these two days have held up fair till now that all is done, and the King gone out of the Hall; and then it fell a-raining and thundering and lightening as I have not seen it do for some years:1038 which people did take great notice of; God’s blessing of the work of these two days, which is a foolery to take too much notice of such things. I observed little disorder in all this, but only the King’s footmen had got hold of the canopy, and would keep it from the Barons of the Cinque Ports,1039 which they endeavoured to force from them again, but could not do it till my Lord Duke of Albemarle caused it to be put into Sir R. Pye’s1040 hand till tomorrow to be decided. At Mr. Bowyer’s; a great deal of company, some I knew, others I did not. Here we stayed upon the leads and below till it was late, expecting to see the fireworks, but they were not performed tonight: only the City had a light like a glory round about it with bonfires. At last I went to Kingstreet, and there sent Crockford to my father’s and my house, to tell them I could not come home tonight, because of the dirt, and a coach could not be had. And so after drinking a pot of ale alone at Mrs. Harper’s I returned to Mr. Bowyer’s, and after a little stay more I took my wife and Mrs. Frankleyn (who I proffered the civility of lying with my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s tonight) to Axe-yard, in which at the further end there were three great bonfires, and a great many great gallants, men and women; and they laid hold of us, and would have us drink the King’s health upon our knees, kneeling upon a faggot, which we all did, they drinking to us one after another. Which we thought a strange frolic; but these gallants continued thus a great while, and I wondered to see how the ladies did tipple. At last I sent my wife and her bedfellow to bed, and Mr. Hunt and I went in with Mr. Thornbury (who did give the company all their wine, he being yeoman of the wine-cellar to the King) to his house; and there, with his wife and two of his sisters, and some gallant sparks that were there, we drank the King’s health, and nothing else, till one of the gentlemen fell down stark drunk, and there lay spewing; and I went to my Lord’s pretty well. But no sooner abed with Mr. Shepley but my head began to hum, and I to vomit, and if ever I was foxed it was now, which I cannot say yet, because I fell asleep and slept till morning. Only when I waked I found myself wet with my spewing. Thus did the day end with joy everywhere; and blessed be God, I have not heard of any mischance to anybody through it all, but only to Serjt. Glynne,1041 whose horse fell upon him yesterday, and is like to kill him, which people do please themselves to see how just God is to punish the rogue at such a time as this; he being now one of the King’s Serjeants, and rode in the cavalcade with Maynard,1042 to whom people wish the same fortune. There was also this night in King-street, [a woman] had her eye put out by a boy’s flinging a firebrand into the coach. Now, after all this, I can say that, besides the pleasure of the sight of these glorious things, I may now shut my eyes against any other objects, nor for the future trouble myself to see things of state and show, as being sure never to see the like again in this world.
. Waked in the morning with my head in a sad taking through the last night’s drink, which I am very sorry for; so rose and went out with Mr. Creed to drink our morning draught, which he did give me in chocolate1043 to settle my stomach. And after that I to my wife, who lay with Mrs. Frankelyn at the next door to Mrs. Hunt’s, and they were ready, and so I took them up in a coach, and carried the ladies to Paul’s, and there set her down, and so my wife and I home, and I to the office. That being done my wife and I went to dinner to Sir W. Batten, and all our talk about the happy conclusion of these last solemnities. After dinner home, and advised with my wife about ordering things in my house, and then she went away to my father’s to lie, and I stayed with my workmen, who do please me very well with their work. At night, set myself to write down these three days’ diary, and while I am about it, I hear the noise of the chambers1044 and other things of the fireworks, which are now playing upon the Thames before the King; and I wish myself with them, being sorry not to see them. So to bed.
. All the morning with my workmen with great pleasure to see them near coming to an end. At noon Mr. Moore and I went to an Ordinary at the King’s Head in Tower Street,1045 and there had a dirty dinner. Afterwards home and having done some business with him, in comes Mr. Sheply and Pierce the surgeon, and they and I to the Mitre and there stayed a while and drank, and so home and after a little reading to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon dined by myself at home on a piece of meat from the cook’s, and so at home all the afternoon with my workmen, and at night to bed, having some thoughts to order my business so as to go to Portsmouth the next week with Sir Robert Slingsby.
. In the morning to my Lord’s, and there dined with my Lady, and after dinner with Mr. Creed and Captain Ferrers to the Theatre to see The Chances,1046 and after that to the Cock alehouse,1047 where we had a harp and violin played to us, and so home by coach to Sir W. Batten’s, who seems so inquisitive when my house will be made an end of that I am troubled to go thither. So home with some trouble in my mind about it.
. In the morning to my father’s, where I dined, and in the afternoon to their church, where come Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Edward Pepys,1048 and several other ladies, and so I went out of the pew into another. And after sermon home with them, and there stayed a while and talked with them and was sent for to my father’s, where my cousin Angier and his wife, of Cambridge, to whom I went, and was glad to see them, and sent for wine for them, and they supped with my father. After supper my father told me of an odd passage the other night in bed between my mother and him, and she would not let him come to bed to her out of jealousy of him and an ugly wench that lived there lately, the most ill-favoured slut that ever I saw in my life, which I was ashamed to hear that my mother should be become such a fool, and my father bid me to take notice of it to my mother, and to make peace between him and her. All which do trouble me very much. So to bed to my wife.
. Up and with my father towards my house, and by the way met with Lieut. Lambert, and with him to the Dolphin in Tower Street and drank our morning draught, he being much troubled about his being offered a fourth rate ship to be Lieutenant of her now he has been two years Lieutenant in a first rate. So to the office, where it is determined that I should go tomorrow to Portsmouth. So I went out of the office to Whitehall presently, and there spoke with Sir W. Penn and Sir George Carteret and had their advice as to my going, and so back again home, where I directed Mr. Hater what to do in order to our going tomorrow, and so back again by coach to Whitehall and there eat something in the buttery at my Lord’s with John Goods and Ned Osgood. And so home again, and gave order to my workmen what to do in my absence. At night to Sir W. Batten’s, and by his and Sir W. Penn’s persuasion I sent for my wife from my father’s, who came to us to Mrs. Turner’s, where we were all at a collacion tonight till twelve o’clock, there being a gentlewoman there that did play well and sang well to the Harpsicon, and very merry we were. So home and to bed, where my wife had not lain a great while.
. This morning, after order given to my workmen, my wife and I and Mr. Creed took coach, and in Fishstreet took up Mr. Hater and his wife, who through her mask seemed at first to be an old woman, but afterwards I found her to be a very pretty modest black woman. We got a small bait at Leatherhead, and so to Godlyman,1049 where we lay all night, and were very merry, having this day no other extraordinary rencontre, but my hat falling off my head at Newington into the water, by which it was spoiled, and I ashamed of it. I am sorry that I am not at London, to be at Hyde Park tomorrow, among the great gallants and ladies, which will be very fine.1050
May 1661
. Up early, and bated at Petersfield, in the room which the King lay in lately at his being there. Here very merry, and played us and our wives at bowls. Then we set forth again, and so to Portsmouth, seeming to me to be a very pleasant and strong place; and we lay at the Red Lion, where Haselrigge and Scott and Walton did hold their councill, when they were here, against Lambert and the Committee of Safety. Several officers of the Yard came to see us tonight, and merry we were, but troubled to have no better lodgings.
. Up, and Mr. Creed and I to walk round the town upon the walls. Then to our inn, and there all the officers of the Yard to see me with great respect, and I walked with them to the Dock and saw all the stores, and much pleased with the sight of the place. Back and brought them all to dinner with me, and treated them handsomely; and so after dinner by water to the Yard, and there we made the sale of the old provisions. Then we and our wives all to see the Montagu,1051 which is a fine ship, and so to the town again by water, and then to see the room where the Duke of Buckingham1052 was killed by Felton. So to our lodging, and to supper and to bed. Tonight came Mr. Stevens to town to help us to pay off the Fox.
. Early to walk with Mr. Creed up and down the town, and it was in his and some others’ thoughts to have got me made free of the town, but the Mayor, it seems, unwilling, and so they could not do it. Then to the payhouse, and there paid off the ship, and so to a short dinner, and then took coach, leaving Mrs. Hater there to stay with her husband’s friends, and we to Petersfield, having nothing more of trouble in all my journey, but the exceeding unmannerly and most epicure-like palate of Mr. Creed. Here my wife and I lay in the room the Queen lately lay at her going into France.
. Up in the morning and took coach, and so to Gilford, where we lay at the Red Lion, the best Inn,1053 and lay in the room the King lately lay in, where we had time to see the Hospital, built by Archbishop Abbot, and the free school,1054 and were civilly treated by the Mayster. So to supper, and to bed, being very merry about our discourse with the Drawers concerning the minister of the Town, with a red face and a girdle. So to bed, where we lay and sleep well.
. Mr. Creed and I went to the red-faced Parson’s church, and heard a good sermon of him, better than I looked for. Then home, and had a good dinner, and after dinner fell in some talk in Divinity with Mr. Stevens that kept us till it was past Church time. Anon we walked into the garden, and there played the fool a great while, trying who of Mr. Creed or I could go best over the edge of an old fountain well, and I won a quart of sack of him. Then to supper in the banquet house, and there my wife and I did talk high, she against and I for Mrs. Pierce (that she was a beauty), till we were both angry. Then to walk in the fields, and so to our quarters, and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock and took coach. Mr. Creed rode, and left us that we know not whither he went. We went on, thinking to be at home before the officers rose, but finding we could not we stayed by the way and eat some cakes, and so home, where I was much troubled to see no more work done in my absence than there was, but it could not be helped. I sent my wife to my father’s, and I went and sat till late with my Lady Batten, both the Sir Williams being gone this day to pay off some ships at Deptford. So home and to bed without seeing of them. I hear tonight that the Duke of York’s son1055 is this day dead, which I believe will please everybody; and I hear that the Duke and his Lady themselves are not much troubled at it.
. In the morning to Mr. Coventry, Sir G. Carteret, and my Lord’s to give them an account of my return. My Lady, I find, is, since my going, gone to the Wardrobe. Then with Mr. Creed into London, to several places about his and my business, being much stopped in our way by the City trainbands, who go in much solemnity and pomp this day to muster before the King and the Duke, and shops in the City are shut up everywhere all this day. He carried me to an ordinary by the Old Exchange, where we come a little too late, but we had very good cheer for our 18d. apiece, and an excellent droll too, my host, and his wife so fine a woman; and sung and played so well that I stayed a great while and drunk a great deal of wine. Then home and stayed among my workmen all day, and took order for things for the finishing of their work, and so at night to Sir W. Batten’s, and there supped and so home and to bed, having sent my Lord a letter tonight to excuse myself for not going with him tomorrow to the Hope, whither he is to go to see in what condition the fleet is in.
. This morning came my brother John to take his leave of me, he being to return to Cambridge tomorrow, and after I had chid him for going with my Will the other day to Deptford with the principal officers, I did give him some good counsell and 20s. in money, and so he went away. All this day I stayed at home with my workmen without eating anything, and took much pleasure to see my work go forward. At night comes my wife not well from my father’s, having had a fore-tooth drawn out today, which do trouble me, and the more because I am now in the greatest of all my dirt. My Will also returned tonight pretty well, he being gone yesterday not very well to his father’s. Today I received a letter from my uncle, to beg an old fiddle of me for my Cousin Perkin,1056 the miller, whose mill the wind hath lately broke down, and now he hath nothing to live by but fiddling, and he must needs have it against Whitsuntide to play to the country girls; but it vexed me to see how my uncle writes to me, as if he were not able to buy him one. But I intend tomorrow to send him one. At night I set down my journal of my late journey to this time, and so to bed. My wife not being well and I very angry with her for her coming hither in that condition.
. With my workmen all the morning, my wife being ill and in great pain with her old pain, which troubled me much because that my house is in this condition of dirt. In the afternoon I went to Whitehall and there spoke with my Lord at his lodgings, and there being with him my Lord Chamberlain, I spoke for my old waterman Payne, to get into White’s place, who was waterman to my Lord Chamberlain, and is now to go master of the barge to my Lord to sea, and my Lord Chamberlain did promise1057 that Payne should be entertained in White’s place with him. From thence to Sir G. Carteret, and there did get his promise for the payment of the remainder of the bill of Mr. Creed’s, wherein of late I have been so much concerned, which did so much rejoice me that I meeting with Mr. Childe took him to the Swan Tavern in King Street,1058 and there did give him a tankard of white wine and sugar1059 and so I went by water home and set myself to get my Lord’s accounts made up, which was till nine at night before I could finish, and then I walked to the Wardrobe, being the first time I was there since my Lady came thither, who I found all alone, and so she showed me all the lodgings as they are now fitted, and they seem pretty pleasant. By and by comes in my Lord, and so, after looking over my accounts, I returned home, being a dirty and dark walk. So to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and the afternoon among my workmen with great pleasure, because being near an end of their work. This afternoon came Mr. Blackburn and Creed to see me, and I took them to the Dolphin, and there drank a great deal of Rhenish wine with them and so home, having some talk with Mr. Blackburn about his kinsman my Will, and he did give me good satisfaction in that it is his desire that his kinsman should do me all service, and that he would give him the best counsel he could to make him good. Which I begin of late to fear that he will not because of the bad company that I find that he do begin to take. This afternoon Mr. Hater received for me the £225 due upon Mr. Creed’s bill in which I am concerned so much, which do make me very glad. At night to Sir W. Batten and sat a while. So to bed.
. This morning I went by water with Payne (Mr. Moore being with me) to my Lord Chamberlain at Whitehall, and there spoke with my Lord, and he did accept of Payne for his waterman, as I had lately endeavoured to get him to be. After that Mr. Cooling did give Payne an order to be entertained, and so I left him and Mr. Moore, and I went to Graye’s Inne, and there to a barber’s, where I was trimmed, and had my haire cut, in which I am lately become a little curious, finding that the length of it do become me very much. So, calling at my father’s, I went home, and there stayed and saw my workmen follow their work, which this night is brought to a very good condition. This afternoon Mr. Shepley, Moore, and Creed came to me all about their several accounts with me, and we did something with them all, and so they went away. This evening Mr. Hater brought my last quarter’s salary, of which I was very glad, because I have lost my first bill for it, and so this morning was forced to get another signed by three of my fellow officers for it. All this evening till late setting my accounts and papers in order, and so to bed.
. My wife had a very troublesome night this night and in great pain, but about the morning her swelling broke, and she was in great ease presently as she useth to be. So I put in a vent (which Dr. Williams sent me yesterday) into the hole to keep it open till all the matter be come out, and so I question not that she will soon be well again. I stayed at home all this morning, being the Lord’s day, making up my private accounts and setting papers in order. At noon went with my Lady Montagu at the Wardrobe, but I found it so late that I came back again, and so dined with my wife in her chamber. After dinner I went awhile to my chamber to set my papers right. Then I walked forth towards Westminster and at the Savoy heard Dr. Fuller preach upon David’s words, “I will wait with patience all the days of my appointed time until my change comes;”1060 but methought it was a poor dry sermon. And I am afeard my former high esteem of his preaching was more out of opinion than judgment. From thence homewards, but met with Mr. Creed, with whom I went and walked in Grayes-Inn-walks, and from thence to Islington, and there eat and drank at the house my father and we were wont of old to go to;1061 and after that walked homeward, and parted in Smithfield: and so I home, much wondering to see how things are altered with Mr. Creed, who, twelve months ago, might have been got to hang himself almost as soon as go to a drinking-house on a Sunday.
. All the morning at home among my workmen. At noon Mr. Creed and I went to the ordinary behind the Exchange, where we lately were, but I do not like it so well as I did. So home with him and to the office, where we sat late, and he did deliver his accounts to us. The office being done I went home and took pleasure to see my work draw to an end.
. Up early and by water to Whitehall to my Lord, and there had much talk with him about getting some money for him. He told me of his intention to get the Muster Master’s place for Mr. Pierce, the purser, who he has a mind to carry to sea with him, and spoke very slightingly of Mr. Creed, as that he had no opinion at all of him, but only he was forced to make use of him because of his present accounts. Thence to drink with Mr. Shepley and Mr. Pinkny, and so home and among my workmen all day. In the evening Mr. Shepley came to me for some money, and so he and I to the Mitre, and there we had good wine and a gammon of bacon. My uncle Wight, Mr. Talbot, and others were with us, and we were pretty merry. So at night home and to bed. Finding my head grow weak nowadays if I come to drink wine, and therefore hope that I shall leave it off of myself, which I pray God I could do.
. With my workmen all day till the afternoon, and then to the office, where Mr. Creed’s accounts were passed. Home and found all my joiner’s work now done, but only a small job or two, which please me very well. This afternoon there came two men with an order from a Committee of Lords to demand some books of me out of the office, in order to the examining of Mr. Hutchinson’s accounts,1062 but I give them a surly answer, and they went away to complain, which put me into some trouble with myself, but I resolve to go tomorrow myself to these Lords and answer them. To bed, being in great fear because of the shavings which lay all up and down the house and cellar, for fear of fire.
. Up early to see whether the work of my house be quite done, and I found it to my mind. Stayed at home all the morning, and about 2 o’clock went in my velvet coat by water to the Savoy, and there, having stayed a good while, I was called into the Lords, and there, quite contrary to my expectations, they did treat me very civilly, telling me that what they had done was out of zeal to the King’s service, and that they would join with the governors of the chest with all their hearts, since they knew that there was any, which they did not before. I give them very respectful answer and so went away to the Theatre, and there saw the latter end of The Maid’s Tragedy,1063 which I never saw before, and methinks it is too sad and melancholy. Thence homewards, and meeting Mr. Creed I took him by water to the Wardrobe with me, and there we found my Lord newly gone away with the Duke of Ormond and some others, whom he had had to the collation; and so we, with the rest of the servants in the hall, sat down and eat of the best cold meats that ever I eat on in all my life. From thence I went home (Mr. Moore with me to the waterside, telling me how kindly he is used by my Lord and my Lady since his coming hither as a servant), and to bed.
. All the morning at home. At noon Lieutenant Lambert came to me, and he and I to the Exchange, and thence to an ordinary over against it, where to our dinner we had a fellow play well upon the bagpipes and whistle like a bird exceeding well, and I had a fancy to learn to whistle as he do, and did promise to come some other day and give him an angell to teach me. To the office, and sat there all the afternoon till 9 at night. So home to my music, and my wife and I sat singing in my chamber a good while together, and then to bed.
. Towards Westminster, from the Tower, by water, and was fain to stand upon one of the piers about the bridge,1064 before the men could drag their boat through the lock, and which they could not do till another was called to help them. Being through bridge I found the Thames full of boats and galleys, and upon inquiry found that there was a wager to be run this morning. So spying of Payne in a gully, I went into him, and there stayed, thinking to have gone to Chelsy with them. But upon the start, the wager boats fell foul one of another, till at last one of them gives over, pretending foul play, and so the other row away alone, and all our sport lost. So, I went ashore, at Westminster; and to the Hall I went, where it was very pleasant to see the Hall in the condition it is now with the judges on the benches at the further end of it,1065 which I had not seen all this term till now. Thence with Mr. Spicer, Creed and some others to drink. And so away homewards by water with Mr. Creed, whom I left in London going about business and I home, where I stayed all the afternoon in the garden reading Faber Fortunae with great pleasure. So home to bed.
. (Lord’s day) I walked in the morning towards Westminster, and seeing many people at York House,1066 I went down and found them at mass, it being the Spanish ambassodors;1067 and so I go into one of the galleries, and there heard two masses done, I think, not in so much state as I have seen them heretofore. After that into the garden, and walked a turn or two, but found it not so fine a place as I always took it for by the outside. Thence to my Lord’s and there spake with him about business, and then he went to Whitehall to dinner, and Capt. Ferrers and Mr. Howe and myself to Mr. Wilkinson’s at the Crown,1068 and though he had no meat of his own, yet we happened to find our cook Mr. Robinson there, who had a dinner for himself and some friends, and so he did give us a very fine dinner. Then to my Lord’s, where we went and sat talking and laughing in the drawing-room a great while. All our talk about their going to sea this voyage, which Capt. Ferrers is in some doubt whether he shall go or no, but swears that he would go, if he were sure never to come back again; and I, giving him some hopes, he grew so mad with joy that he fell a-dancing and leaping like a madman. Now it fell out so that the balcone windows were open, and he went to the rail and made an offer to leap over, and asked what if he should leap over there. I told him I would give him £40 if he did not go to sea. With that thought I shut the doors, and W. Howe hindered him all we could; yet he opened them again, and, with a vault, leaps down into the garden:—the greatest and most desperate frolic that ever I saw in my life. I run to see what was become of him, and we found him crawled upon his knees, but could not rise; so we went down into the garden and dragged him to the bench, where he looked like a dead man, but could not stir; and, though he had broke nothing, yet his pain in his back was such as he could not endure. With this, my Lord (who was in the little new room) come to us in amaze, and bid us carry him up, which, by our strength, we did, and so laid him in East’s bed, by the door; where he lay in great pain. We sent for a doctor and chirurgeon, but none to be found, till by-and-by by chance comes in Dr. Clerke, who is afeard of him.1069 So we sent to get a lodging for him, and I went up to my Lord, where Captain Cooke, Mr. Gibbons,1070 and others of the King’s musicians were come to present my Lord with some songs and symphonies, which were performed very finely. Which being done I took leave and supped at my father’s, where was my cousin Beck come lately out of the country. I am troubled to see my father so much decay of a sudden, as he do both in his seeing and hearing, and as much to hear of him how my brother Tom do grow disrespectful to him and my mother. I took leave and went home, where to prayers (which I have not had in my house a good while), and so to bed.
. At home all the morning; paid £50 to one Mr. Grant for Mr. Barlow, for the last half year, and was visited by Mr. Anderson, my former chamber fellow at Cambridge, with whom I parted at the Hague, but I did not go forthwith him, only gave him a morning draught at home. At noon Mr. Creed came to me, and he and I to the Exchange, and so to an ordinary to dinner, and after dinner to the Mitre, and there sat drinking while it rained very much. Then to the office, where I found Sir Williams both, choosing of masters for the new fleet of ships that is ordered to be set forth, and Penn seeming to be in an ugly humour, not willing to gratify one that I mentioned to be put in, did vex me. We sat late, and so home. Mr. Moore came to me when I was going to bed, and sat with me a good while talking about my Lord’s business and our own and so good night.
. Up early, and, with Sir R. Slingsby (and Major Waters the deaf gentleman, his friend, for company’s sake) to the Victualling-office1071 (the first time that I ever knew where it was), and there stayed while he read a commission for enquiry into some of the King’s lands and houses thereabouts, that are given his brother. And then we took boat to Woolwich, where we stayed and gave order for the fitting out of some more ships presently. And then to Deptford, where we stayed and did the same; and so took barge again, and were overtaken by the King in his barge, he having been down the river with his yacht this day for pleasure to try it; and, as I hear, Commissioner Pett’s do prove better than the Dutch one, and that that his brother built. While we were upon the water, one of the greatest showers of rain fell that ever I saw. The Comptroller and I landed with our barge at the Temple, and from thence I went to my father’s, and there did give order about some clothes to be made, and did buy a new hat, cost between 20 and 30 shillings, at Mr. Holden’s. So home.
. To Westminster, and there missed of my Lord, and so about noon I and W. Howe by water to the Wardrobe, where my Lord and all the officers of the Wardrobe dined, and several other friends of my Lord, at a venison pasty. Before dinner, my Lady Wright and my Lady Jem. sang songs to the harpsicon. Very pleasant and merry at dinner. And then I went away by water to the office, and there stayed till it was late. At night before I went to bed the barber came to trim me and wash me, and so to bed, in order to my being clean tomorrow.
. This day I went to my Lord, and about many other things at Whitehall, and there made even my accounts with Mr. Shepley at my Lord’s, and then with him and Mr. Moore and John Bowles to the Rhenish wine house,1072 and there came Jonas Moore,1073 the mathematician, to us, and there he did by discourse make us fully believe that England and France were once the same continent, by very good arguments, and spoke very many things, not so much to prove the Scripture false as that the time therein is not well computed nor understood. From thence home by water, and there shifted myself into my black silk suit (the first day I have put it on this year), and so to my Lord Mayor’s by coach, with a great deal of honourable company, and great entertainment. At table I had very good discourse with Mr. Ashmole, wherein he did assure me that frogs and many insects do often fall from the sky, ready formed. Dr. Bates’s singularity in not rising up nor drinking the King’s nor other healths at the table was very much observed.1074 From thence we all took coach, and to our office, and there sat till it was late; and so I home and to bed by daylight. This day was kept a holy-day through the town; and it pleased me to see the little boys walk up and down in procession with their broom-staffs in their hands, as I had myself long ago gone.1075
. At home all the morning making up my private accounts, and this is the first time that I do find myself to be clearly worth £500 in money, besides all my goods in my house, etc. In the afternoon at the office late, and then I went to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lord at supper, and therefore I walked a good while till he had done, and I went in to him, and there he looked over my accounts. And they were committed to Mr. Moore to see me paid what remained due to me. Then down to the kitchen to eat a bit of bread and butter, which I did, and there I took one of the maids by the chin, thinking her to be Susan, but it proved to be her sister, who is very like her. From thence home.
. All the morning at home about business. At noon to the Temple, where I stayed and looked over a book or two at Playford’s, and then to the Theatre, where I saw a piece of The Silent Woman,1076 which pleased me. So homewards, and in my way bought The Bondman1077 in Paul’s Churchyard, and so home, where I found all clean, and the hearth and range, as it is now enlarged, set up, which pleases me very much.
. Lay long in bed. To church and heard a good sermon at our own church, where I have not been a great many weeks. Dined with my wife alone at home pleasing myself in that my house do begin to look as if at last it would be in good order. This day the Parliament received the communion of Dr. Gunning at St. Margaret’s, Westminster. In the afternoon both the Sir Williams came to church, where we had a dull stranger. After church home, and so to the Mitre, where I found Dr. Burnett,1078 the first time that ever I met him to drink with him, and my uncle Wight and there we sat and drank a great deal, and so I to Sir W. Batten’s, where I have on purpose made myself a great stranger, only to get a high opinion a little more of myself in them. Here I heard how Mrs. Browne, Sir W. Batten’s sister, is brought to bed, and I to be one of the godfathers, which I could not nor did deny. Which, however, did trouble me very much to be at charge to no purpose, so that I could not sleep hardly all night, but in the morning I bethought myself, and I think it is very well I should do it. Sir W. Batten told me how Mr. Prin (among the two or three that did refuse today to receive the sacrament upon their knees) was offered by a mistake the drink afterwards, which he did receive, being denied the drink by Dr. Gunning, unless he would take it on his knees; and after that by another the bread was brought him, and he did take it sitting, which is thought very preposterous. Home and to bed.
. To the Wardrobe, and from thence with my Lords Sandwich and Hinchinbroke to the Lords’ House by boat at Westminster, and there I left them. Then to the lobby, and after waiting for Sir G. Downing’s coming out, to speak with him about the giving me up of my bond for my honesty when I was his clerk, but to no purpose, I went to Clerke’s at the Leg,1079 and there I found both Mr. Pierces, Mr. Rolt, formerly too great a man to meet upon such even terms, and there we dined very merry, there coming to us Captain Ferrers, this being the first day of his going abroad since his leap a week ago, which I was greatly glad to see. By water to the office, and there sat late, Sir George Carteret coming in, who among other things did inquire into the naming of the maisters for this fleet, and was very angry that they were named as they are, and above all to see the maister of the Adventure (for whom there is some kind of difference between Sir W. Penn and me) turned out, who has been in her list. The office done, I went with the Comptroller to the Coffee house, and there we discoursed of this, and I seem to be fond of him, and indeed I find I must carry fair with all as far as I see it safe, but I have got of him leave to have a little room from his lodgings to my house, of which I am very glad, besides I do open him a way to get lodgings himself in the office, of which I should be very glad. Home and to bed.
. This morning to the Wardrobe, and thence to a little alehouse hard by, to drink with John Bowles, who is now going to Hinchinbroke this day. Thence with Mr. Shepley to the Exchange about business, and there, by Mr. Rawlinson’s favour, got into a balcone over against the Exchange; and there saw the hangman burn, by vote of Parliament, two old acts, the one for constituting us a Commonwealth, and the other1080 I have forgot. Which still do make me think of the greatness of this late turn, and what people will do tomorrow against what they all, through profit or fear, did promise and practise this day. Then to the Mitre with Mr. Shepley, and there dined with D. Rawlinson and some friends of his very well. So home, and then to Cheapside about buying a piece of plate to give away tomorrow to Mrs. Browne’s child. So to the Star in Cheapside, where I left Mr. Moore telling £5 out for me, who I found in a great strait for my coming back again, and so he went his way at my coming. Then home, where Mr. Cook I met and he paid me 30s., an old debt of his to me. So to Sir W. Penn’s, and there sat alone with him till ten at night in talk with great content, he telling me things and persons that I did not understand in the late times, and so I home to bed. My cousin John Holcroft1081 (whom I have not seen many years) this morning came to see me.
. Rose early and having made myself fine, and put six spoons and a porringer of silver in my pocket to give away today, Sir W. Penn and I took coach, and (the weather and ways being foul) went to Walthamstowe; and being come there heard Mr. Radcliffe,1082 my former school fellow at Paul’s (who is yet a mere boy), preach upon “Nay, let him take all, since my Lord the King is returned,” etc.1083 He reads all, and his sermon very simple, but I looked for new matter. Back to dinner to Sir William Batten’s; and then, after a walk in the fine gardens, we went to Mrs. Browne’s, where Sir W. Penn and I were godfathers, and Mrs. Jordan1084 and Shipman1085 godmothers to her boy. And there, before and after the christening; we were with the woman above in her chamber; but whether we carried ourselves well or ill, I know not; but I was directed by young Mrs. Batten. One passage of a lady that eat wafers with her dog did a little displease me. I did give the midwife 10s. and the nurse 5s. and the maid of the house 2s. But for as much I expected to give the name to the child, but did not (it being called John), I forbore then to give my plate till another time after a little more advice. All being done, we went to Mrs. Shipman’s, who is a great butter-woman, and I did see there the most of milk and cream, and the cleanest that ever I saw in my life. After we had filled our bellies with cream, we took our leaves and away. In our way, we had great sport to try who should drive fastest, Sir W. Batten’s coach, or Sir W. Penn’s chariot, they having four, and we two horses, and we beat them. But it cost me the spoiling of my clothes and velvet coat with dirt. Being come home I to bed, and give my breeches to be dried by the fire against tomorrow.
. To the Wardrobe and there, with my Lord, went into his new barge to try her, and found her a good boat, and like my Lord’s contrivance of the door to come out round and not square as they used to do. Back to the Wardrobe with my Lord, and then with Mr. Moore to the Temple, and thence to Greatorex, who took me to Arundell-House,1086 and there showed me some fine flowers in his garden, and all the fine statues in the gallery, which I formerly had seen, and is a brave sight, and thence to a blind dark cellar, where we had two bottles of good ale, and so after giving him direction for my silver side-table, I took boat at Arundell stairs, and put in at Milford. … So home and found Sir Williams both and my Lady going to Deptford to christen Captain Rooth’s child, and would have had me with them, but I could not go. To the office, where Sir R. Slingsby was, and he and I into his and my lodgings to take a view of them, out of a desire he has to have mine of me to join to his, and give me Mr. Turner’s. To the office again, where Sir G. Carteret came and sat a while, he being angry for Sir Williams making of the maisters of this fleet upon their own heads without a full table. Then the Comptroller and I to the Coffee House, and there sat a great while talking of many things. So home and to bed. This day, I hear, the Parliament have ordered a bill to be brought in for the restoring the Bishops to the House of Lords;1087 which they had not done so soon but to spite Mr. Prin, who is every day so bitter against them in his discourse in the House.
. I went to my father’s thinking to have met with my cousin John Holcroft, but he came not, but to my great grief I found my father and mother in a great deal of discontent one with another, and indeed my mother is grown now so pettish that I know not how my father is able to bear with it. I did talk to her so as did not indeed become me, but I could not help it, she being so unsufferably foolish and simple, so that my father, poor man, is become a very unhappy man. There I dined, and so home and to the office all the afternoon till 9 at night, and then home and to supper and to bed. Great talk now how the Parliament intend to make a collection of free gifts to the King through the Kingdom; but I think it will not come to much.1088
June 1661
. Having taken our leaves of Sir W. Batten and my Lady, who are gone this morning to keep their Whitsuntide, Sir W. Penn and I and Mr. Gauden by water to Woolwich, and there went from ship to ship to give order for and take notice of their forwardness to go forth, and then to Deptford and did the like, having dined at Woolwich with Captain Poole at the tavern there. From Deptford we walked to Redriffe, calling at the halfway house, and there come into a room where there was infinite of new cakes placed that are made against Whitsuntide, and there we were very merry. By water home, and there did businesses of the office. Among others got my Lord’s imprest of £1,000 and Mr. Creed’s of £10,000 against this voyage their bills signed. Having wrote letters into the country and read some things I went to bed.
. The barber having done with me, I went to church, and there heard a good sermon of Mr. Mills, fit for the day. Then home to dinner, and then to church again, and going home I found Greatorex (whom I expected today at dinner) come to see me, and so he and I in my chamber drinking of wine and eating of anchovies an hour or two, discoursing of many things in mathematics, and among others he showed me how it comes to pass the strength that levers have, and he showed me that what is got as to matter of strength is lost by them as to matter of time. It rained very hard, as it hath done of late so much that we begin to doubt a famine, and so he was forced to stay longer than I desired. At night after prayers to bed.
. To the Wardrobe, where discoursing with my Lord, he did instruct me as to the business of the Wardrobe, in case, in his absence, Mr. Townsend should die, and told me that he do intend to join me and Mr. Moore with him as to the business, now he is going to sea, and spoke to me many other things, as to one that he do put the greatest confidence in, of which I am proud. Here I had a good occasion to tell him (what I have had long in my mind) that, since it has pleased God to bless me with something, I am desirous to lay out something for my father, and so have pitched upon Mr. Young’s place in the Wardrobe, which I desired he would give order in his absence, if the place should fall that I might have the refusal. Which my Lord did freely promise me, at which I was very glad, he saying that he would do that at the least. So I saw my Lord into the barge going to Whitehall, and I and Mr. Creed home to my house, whither my father and my cousin Scott came to dine with me, and so we dined together very well, and before we had done in comes my father Bowyer and my mother and four daughters, and a young gentleman and his sister, their friends, and there stayed all the afternoon, which cost me great store of wine, and were very merry. By and by I am called to the office, and there stayed a little. So home again, and took Mr. Creed and left them, and so he and I to the Tower, to speak for some ammunition for ships for my Lord; and so he and I, with much pleasure, walked quite round the Tower, which I never did before. So home, and after a walk with my wife upon the leads, I and she went to bed. This morning I and Dr. Peirce went over to the Beare at the Bridge foot, thinking to have met my Lord Hinchinbroke and his brother setting forth for France; but they being not come we went over to the Wardrobe, and there found that my Lord Abbot Montagu1089 being not at Paris, my Lord hath a mind to have them stay a little longer before they go.
. The Comptroller came this morning to get me to go see a house or two near our office, which he would take for himself or Mr. Turner, and then he would have me have Mr. Turner’s lodgings and himself mine and Mr. Davis’s. But the houses did not like us, and so that design at present is stopped. Then he and I by water to the bridge, and then walked over the Bank-side till we came to the Temple, and so I went over and to my father’s, where I met with my cousin J. Holcroft, and took him and my father and my brother Tom to the Bear tavern and gave them wine, my cousin being to go into the country again tomorrow. From thence to my Lord Crew’s to dinner with him, and had very good discourse about having of young noblemen and gentlemen to think of going to sea, as being as honourable service as the land war. And among other things he told us how, in Queen Elizabeth’s time, one young nobleman would wait with a trencher at the back of another till he came to age himself. And witnessed in my young Lord of Kent, that then was, who waited upon my Lord Bedford at table, when a letter came to my Lord Bedford that the Earldom of Kent was fallen to his servant, the young Lord; and so he rose from table, and made him sit down in his place, and took a lower for himself, for so he was by place to sit.1090 From thence to the Theatre and saw Harry the 4th, a good play. That done I went over the water and walked over the fields to Southwark, and so home and to my lute. At night to bed.
. This morning did give my wife £4 to lay out upon lace and other things for herself. I to Wardrobe and so to Whitehall and Westminster, where I dined with my Lord and Ned Pickering alone at his lodgings. After dinner to the office, where we sat and did business, and Sir W. Penn and I went home with Sir R. Slingsby to bowls in his alley, and there had good sport, and afterwards went in and drank and talked. So home Sir William and I, and it being very hot weather I took my flageolet and played upon the leads in the garden, where Sir W. Penn came out in his shirt into his leads, and there we stayed talking and singing, and drinking great draughts of claret, and eating botargo1091 and bread and butter till 12 at night, it being moonshine; and so to bed, very near fuddled.
. My head hath ached all night, and all this morning, with my last night’s debauch. Called up this morning by Lieutenant Lambert, who is now made Captain of the Norwich, and he and I went down by water to Greenwich, in our way observing and discoursing upon the things of a ship, he telling me all I asked him, which was of good use to me. There we went and eat and drank and heard music at the Globe, and saw the simple motion that is there of a woman with a rod in her hand keeping time to the music while it plays, which is simple, methinks. Back again by water, calling at Captain Lambert’s house, which is very handsome and neat, and a fine prospect at top. So to the office, where we sat a little, and then the Captain and I again to Bridewell to Mr. Holland’s, where his wife also, a plain dowdy, and his mother was. Here I paid Mrs. Holland the money due from me to her husband. Here came two young gentlewomen to see Mr. Holland, and one of them could play pretty well upon the violin, but, good God! how these ignorant people did cry her up for it! We were very merry. I stayed and supped there, and so home and to bed. The weather very hot, this night I left off my wastecoat.
. To my Lord’s at Whitehall, but not finding him I went to the Wardrobe and there dined with my Lady, and was very kindly treated by her. After dinner to the office, and there till late at night. So home, and to Sir William Batten’s, who is come this day from Chatham with my Lady, who is and has been much troubled with the toothache. Here I stayed till late, and so home and to bed.
. To Whitehall to my Lord, who did tell me that he would have me go to Mr. Townsend, whom he had ordered to discover to me the whole mystery of the Wardrobe, and none else but me, and that he will make me deputy with him for fear that he should die in my Lord’s absence, of which I was glad. Then to the Cook’s with Mr. Shepley and Mr. Creed, and dined together, and then I went to the Theatre and there saw Bartholomew Faire,1092 the first time it was acted now a-days. It is a most admirable play and well acted, but too much profane and abusive. From thence, meeting Mr. Creed at the door, he and I went to the tobacco shop under Temple Bar gate, and there went up to the top of the house and there sat drinking Lambeth ale a good while. Then away home, and in my way called upon Mr. Rawlinson (my uncle Wight being out of town), for his advice to answer a letter of my uncle Robert, wherein he do offer me a purchase to lay some money upon, that joins upon some of his own lands, and plainly telling me that the reason of his advice is the convenience that it will give me as to his estate, of which I am exceeding glad, and am advised to give up wholly the disposal of my money to him, let him do what he will with it, which I shall do. So home and to bed.
. This day my wife put on her black silk gown, which is now laced all over with black gimp lace, as the fashion is, in which she is very pretty. She and I walked to my Lady’s at the Wardrobe, and there dined and was exceeding much made of. After dinner I left my wife there, and I walked to Whitehall, and then went to Mr. Pierce’s and sat with his wife a good while (who continues very pretty) till he came, and then he and I, and Mr. Symons (dancing master), that goes to sea with my Lord, to the Swan tavern, and there drank, and so again to Whitehall, and there met with Dean Fuller, and walked a great while with him; among other things discoursed of the liberty the Bishop (by name he of Galloway)1093 takes to admit into orders anybody that will; among others, Roundtree, a simple mechanic that was a person formerly in the fleet.1094 He told me he would complain of it. By and by we went and got a sculler, and landing him at Worcester House, I and W. Howe, who came to us at Whitehall, went to the Wardrobe, where I met with Mr. Townsend, who is very willing he says to communicate anything for my Lord’s advantage to me as to his business. I went up to Jane Shore’s tower, and there W. Howe and I sang, and so took my wife and walked home, and so to bed. After I came home a messenger came from my Lord to bid me come to him tomorrow morning.
. Early to my Lord’s, who privately told me how the King had made him Embassador in the bringing over the Queen.1095 That he is to go to Algier, etc., to settle the business, and to put the fleet in order there; and so to come back to Lisbone with three ships, and there to meet the fleet that is to follow him. He sent for me, to tell me that he do entrust me with the seeing of all things done in his absence as to this great preparation, as I shall receive orders from my Lord Chancellor and Mr. Edward Montagu. At all which my heart is above measure glad; for my Lord’s honour, and some profit to myself, I hope. By and by, out with Mr. Shepley, Walden,1096 Parliament-man for Huntingdon, Rolt, Mackworth, and Alderman Backwell, to a house hard by, to drink Lambeth ale. So I back to the Wardrobe, and there found my Lord going to Trinity House, this being the solemn day of choosing Master, and my Lord is chosen, so he dines there today. I stayed and dined with my Lady; but after we were set, comes in some persons of condition, and so the children and I rose and dined by ourselves, all the children and I, and were very merry and they mighty fond of me. Then to the office, and there sat awhile. So home and at night to bed, where we lay in Sir R. Slingsby’s lodgings in the dining room there in one green bed, my house being now in its last work of painting and whiting.
. At the office this morning, Sir G. Carteret with us; and we agreed upon a letter to the Duke of York, to tell him the sad condition of this office for want of money; how men are not able to serve us more without some money; and that now the credit of the office is brought so low, that none will sell us anything without our personal security given for the same. All the afternoon abroad about several businesses, and at night home and to bed.
. Wednesday, a day kept between a fast and a feast, the Bishops not being ready enough to keep the fast for foul weather before fair weather came; and so they were forced to keep it between both.1097 I to Whitehall, and there with Captain Rolt1098 and Ferrers we went to Lambeth to drink our morning draught, where at the Three Mariners, a place noted for their ale, we went and stayed awhile very merry, and so away. And wanting a boat, we found Captain Bun going down the river, and so we went into his boat having a lady with him, and he landed them at Westminster and me at the Bridge. At home all day with my workmen, and doing several things, among others writing the letter resolved of yesterday to the Duke. Then to Whitehall, where I met my Lord, who told me he must have £300 laid out in cloth, to give in Barbary, as presents among the Turks. At which occasion of getting something I was very glad. Home to supper, and then to Sir R. Slingsby, who with his brother and I went to my Lord’s at the Wardrobe, and there stayed a great while, but he being now taking his leave of his friends stayed out late, and so they went away. Anon came my Lord in, and I stayed with him a good while, and then to bed with Mr. Moore in his chamber.
. I went up and down to Alderman Backwell’s, but his servants not being up, I went home and put on my gray cloth suit and faced white coat, made of one of my wife’s petticoats, the first time I have had it on, and so in a riding garb back again and spoke with Mr. Shaw1099 at the Alderman’s, who offers me £300 if my Lord pleases to buy this cloth with, which pleased me well. So to the Wardrobe and got my Lord to order Mr. Creed to imprest so much upon me to be paid by Alderman Backwell. So with my Lord to Whitehall by water, and he having taken leave of the King, comes to us at his lodgings and from thence goes to the garden stairs and there takes barge, and at the stairs was met by Sir R. Slingsby, who there took his leave of my Lord, and I heard my Lord thank him for his kindness to me, which Sir Robert answered much to my advantage. I went down with my Lord in the barge to Deptford, and there went on board the Dutch yacht and stayed there a good while, W. Howe not being come with my Lord’s things, which made my Lord very angry. By and by he comes and so we set sail, and anon went to dinner, my Lord and we very merry; and after dinner I went down below and there sang, and took leave of W. Howe, Captain Rolt, and the rest of my friends, then went up and took leave of my Lord, who give me his hand and parted with great respect. So went and Captain Ferrers with me into our wherry, and my Lord did give five guns, all they had charged, which was the greatest respect my Lord could do me, and of which I was not a little proud. So with a sad and merry heart I left them sailing pleasantly from Erith, hoping to be in the Downs tomorrow early. We toward London in our boat. Pulled off our stockings and bathed our legs a great while in the river, which I had not done some years before. By and by we come to Greenwich, and thinking to have gone on the King’s yacht, the King was in her, so we passed by, and at Woolwich went on shore, in the company of Captain Poole of Jamaica and young Mr. Kennersley, and many others, and so to the tavern where we drank a great deal both wine and beer. So we parted hence and went home with Mr. Falconer, who did give us cherries and good wine. So to boat, and young Poole took us on board the Charity and gave us wine there, with which I had full enough, and so to our wherry again, and there fell asleep till I came almost to the Tower, and there the Captain and I parted, and I home and with wine enough in my head, went to bed.
. To Whitehall to my Lord’s, where I found Mr. Edward Montagu and his family come to lie during my Lord’s absence. I sent to my house by my Lord’s order his ship1100 and triangle virginall. So to my father’s, and did give him order about the buying of this cloth to send to my Lord. But I could not stay with him myself, for having got a great cold by my playing the fool in the water yesterday I was in great pain, and so went home by coach to bed, and went not to the office at all, and by keeping myself warm, I broke wind and so came to some ease. Rose and eat some supper, and so to bed again.
. My father came and drank his morning draught with me, and sat with me till I was ready, and so he and I about the business of the cloth. By and by I left him and went and dined with my Lady, who, now my Lord is gone, is come to her poor housekeeping again. Then to my father’s, who tells me what he has done, and we resolved upon two pieces of scarlet, two of purple, and two of black, and £50 in linen. I home, taking £300 with me home from Alderman Backwell’s. After writing to my Lord to let him know what I had done I was going to bed, but there coming the purser of the King’s yacht for victuals presently, for the Duke of York is to go down tomorrow, I got him to promise stowage for these things there, and so I went to bed, bidding Will go and fetch the things from the carrier’s hither, which about 12 o’clock were brought to my house and laid there all night.
. But no purser coming in the morning for them, and I hear that the Duke went last night, and so I am at a great loss what to do; and so this day (though the Lord’s day) stayed at home, sending Will up and down to know what to do. Sometimes thinking to continue my resolution of sending by the carrier to be at Deale on Wednesday next, sometimes to send them by sea by a vessel on purpose, but am not yet come to a resolution, but am at a very great loss and trouble in mind what in the world to do herein. The afternoon (while Will was abroad) I spent in reading The Spanish Gypsey,1101 a play not very good, though commended much. At night resolved to hire a Margate Hoy, who would go away tomorrow morning, which I did, and sent the things all by him, and put them on board about 12 this night, hoping to have them as the wind now serves in the Downs tomorrow night. To-bed with some quiet of mind, having sent the things away.
. Visited this morning by my old friend Mr. Ch. Carter, who stayed and went to Westminster with me, and there we parted, and I to the Wardrobe and dined with my Lady. So home to my painters, who are now about painting my stairs. So to the office, and at night we all went to Sir W. Penn’s, and there sat and drank till 11 at night, and so home and to bed.
. All this morning at home vexing about the delay of my painters, and about four in the afternoon my wife and I by water to Captain Lambert’s, where we took great pleasure in their turret-garden, and seeing the fine needle-works of his wife, the best I ever saw in my life, and afterwards had a very handsome treat and good music that she made upon the harpsicon, and with a great deal of pleasure stayed till 8 at night, and so home again, there being a little pretty witty child that is kept in their house that would not let us go without her, and so fell a-crying by the waterside. So home, where I met Jack Cole, who stayed with me a good while, and is still of the old good humour that we were of at school together, and I am very glad to see him. He gone, I went to bed.
. All the morning almost at home, seeing my stairs finished by the painters, which pleases me well. So with Mr. Moore to Westminster Hall, it being term, and then by water to the Wardrobe, where very merry, and so home to the office all the afternoon, and at night to the Exchange to my uncle Wight about my intention of purchasing at Brampton. So back again home and at night to bed. Thanks be to God I am very well again of my late pain, and tomorrow hope to be out of my pain of dirt and trouble in my house, of which I am now become very weary. One thing I must observe here while I think of it, that I am now become the most negligent man in the world as to matters of news, insomuch that, nowadays, I neither can tell any, nor ask any of others.
. At home the greatest part of the day to see my workmen make an end, which this night they did to my great content.
. This morning going to my father’s I met him, and so he and I went and drank our morning draught at the Samson1102 in Paul’s Churchyard, and eat some gammon of bacon, etc., and then parted, having bought some green Say1103 for curtains in my parlor. Home, and so to the Exchequer, where I met with my uncle Wight, and home with him to dinner, where among others (my aunt being out of town), Mr. Norbury and I did discourse of his wife’s house and land at Brampton, which I find too much for me to buy. Home, and in the afternoon to the office, and much pleased at night to see my house begin to be clean after all the dirt.
. Abroad all the morning about several businesses. At noon went and dined with my Lord Crew, where very much made of by him and his lady. Then to the Theatre, The Alchymist,1104 which is a most incomparable play. And that being done I met with little Luellin and Blirton, who took me to a friend’s of theirs in Lincoln’s Inn fields, one Mr. Hodges, where we drank great store of Rhenish wine and were very merry. So I went home, where I found my house now very clean, which was great content to me.
. In the morning to church, and my wife not being well, I went with Sir W. Batten home to dinner, my Lady being out of town, where there was Sir W. Penn, Captain Allen and his daughter Rebecca, and Mr. Hempson and his wife. After dinner to church all of us and had a very good sermon of a stranger, and so I and the young company to walk first to Graye’s Inn Walks, where great store of gallants, but above all the ladies that I there saw, or ever did see, Mrs. Frances Butler (Monsieur L’Impertinent’s sister) is the greatest beauty. Then we went to Islington, where at the great house I entertained them as well as I could, and so home with them, and so to my own home and to bed. Pall, who went this day to a child’s christening of Kate Joyce’s, stayed out all night at my father’s, she not being well.
. We kept this a holiday, and so went not to the office at all. All the morning at home. At noon my father came to see my house now it is done, which is now very neat. He and I and Dr. Williams (who is come to see my wife, whose soare belly is now grown dangerous as she thinks) to the ordinary over against the Exchange, where we dined and had great wrangling with the master of the house when the reckoning was brought to us, he setting down exceeding high every thing. I home again and to Sir W. Batten’s, and there sat a good while. So home.
. Up this morning to put my papers in order that are come from my Lord’s, so that now I have nothing there remaining that is mine, which I have had till now. This morning came Mr. Goodgroome1105 to me (recommended by Mr. Mage), with whom I agreed presently to give him 20s. entrance, which I then did, and 20s. a month more to teach me to sing, and so we began, and I hope I have come to something in it. His first song is “La cruda la bella.”1106 He gone my brother Tom comes, with whom I made even with my father and the two drapers for the cloths I sent to sea lately. At home all day, in the afternoon came Captain Allen and his daughter Rebecca and Mr. Hempson, and by and by both Sir Williams, who sat with me till it was late, and I had a very gallant collation for them. At night to bed.
. To Westminster about several businesses, then to dine with my Lady at the Wardrobe, taking Dean Fuller along with me; then home, where I heard my father had been to find me about special business; so I took coach and went to him, and found by a letter to him from my aunt that my uncle Robert is taken with a dizziness in his head, so that they desire my father to come down to look after his business, by which we guess that he is very ill, and so my father do think to go tomorrow. And so God’s will be done. Back by water to the office, there till night, and so home to my music and then to bed.
. To my father’s, and with him to Mr. Starling’s to drink our morning draught, and there I told him how I would have him speak to my uncle Robert, when he comes thither, concerning my buying of land, that I could pay ready money £600 and the rest by £150 per annum, to make up as much as will buy £50 per annum, which I do, though I not worth above £500 ready money, that he may think me to be a greater saver than I am. Here I took my leave of my father, who is going this morning to my uncle upon my aunt’s letter this week that he is not well and so needs my father’s help. At noon home, and then with my Lady Batten, Mrs. Rebecca Allen, Mrs. Thompson, etc., two coaches of us, we went and saw Bartholomew Fair acted very well, and so home again and stayed at Sir W. Batten’s late, and so home to bed. This day Mr. Holden sent me a bever, which cost me £4 5s.1107
. At home all the morning practising to sing, which is now my great trade, and at noon to my Lady and dined with her. So back and to the office, and there sat till 7 at night, and then Sir W. Penn and I in his coach went to Moorefields, and there walked, and stood and saw the wrestling, which I never saw so much of before, between the north and west countrymen. So home, and this night had our bed set up in our room that we called the Nursery, where we lay, and I am very much pleased with the room.
. By a letter from the Duke complaining of the delay of the ships that are to be got ready, Sir Williams both and I went to Deptford and there examined into the delays, and were satisfyed. So back again home and stayed till the afternoon, and then I walked to the Bell at the Maypole1108 in the Strand, and thither came to me by appointment Mr. Chetwind, Gregory, and Hartlibb, so many of our old club, and Mr. Kipps, where we stayed and drank and talked with much pleasure till it was late, and so I walked home and to bed. Mr. Chetwind by chewing of tobacco is become very fat and sallow, whereas he was consumptive, and in our discourse he fell commending of Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity,1109 as the best book, and the only one that made him a Christian, which puts me upon the buying of it, which I will do shortly.
. To church, where we observe the trade of briefs is come now up to so constant a course every Sunday, that we resolve to give no more to them.1110 A good sermon, and then home to dinner, my wife and I all alone. After dinner Sir Williams both and I by water to Whitehall, where having walked up and down, at last we met with the Duke of York, according to an order sent us yesterday from him, to give him an account where the fault lay in the not sending out of the ships, which we find to be only the wind hath been against them, and so they could not get out of the river. Hence I to Graye’s Inn Walk, all alone, and with great pleasure seeing the fine ladies walk there. Myself humming to myself (which nowadays is my constant practice since I begun to learn to sing) the trillo, and found by use that it do come upon me. Home very weary and to bed, finding my wife not sick, but yet out of order, that I fear she will come to be sick. This day the Portuguese Embassador1111 came to Whitehall to take leave of the King; he being now going to end all with the Queen, and to send her over. The weather now very fair and pleasant, but very hot. My father gone to Brampton to see my uncle Robert, not knowing whether to find him dead or alive. Myself lately under a great expense of money upon myself in clothes and other things, but I hope to make it up this summer by my having to do in getting things ready to send with the next fleet to the Queen. Myself in good health, but mighty apt to take cold, so that this hot weather I am fain to wear a cloth before my belly.
July 1661
. This morning I went up and down into the city, to buy several things, as I have lately done, for my house. Among other things, a fair chest of drawers for my own chamber, and an Indian gown for myself. The first cost me 33s., the other 34s. Home and dined there, and Theodore Goodgroome, my singing master, with me, and then to our singing. After that to the office, and then home.
. To Westminster Hall and there walked up and down, it being Term time. Spoke with several, among others my cousin Roger Pepys, who was going up to the Parliament House, and inquired whether I had heard from my father since he went to Brampton, which I had done yesterday, who writes that my uncle is by fits stupid, and like a man that is drunk, and sometimes speechless. Home, and after my singing master had done, took coach and went to Sir William Davenant’s1112 Opera; this being the fourth day that it hath begun, and the first that I have seen it. Today was acted the second part of The Siege of Rhodes.1113 We stayed a very great while for the King and the Queen of Bohemia. And by the breaking of a board over our heads, we had a great deal of dust fell into the ladies’ necks and the men’s hair, which made good sport. The King being come, the scene opened; which indeed is very fine and magnificent, and well acted, all but the Eunuch, who was so much out that he was hissed off the stage. Home and wrote letters to my Lord at sea, and so to bed.
. To Westminster to Mr. Edward Montagu about business of my Lord’s, and so to the Wardrobe, and there dined with my Lady, who is in some mourning for her brother, Mr. Saml. Crew, who died yesterday of the spotted fever. So home through Duck Lane1114 to inquire for some Spanish books, but found none that pleased me. So to the office, and that being done to Sir W. Batten’s with the Comptroller, where we sat late talking and disputing with Mr. Mills the parson of our parish. This day my Lady Batten and my wife were at the burial of a daughter of Sir John Lawson’s, and had rings for themselves and their husbands. Home and to bed.
. At home all the morning; in the afternoon I went to the Theatre, and there I saw Claracilla1115 (the first time I ever saw it), well acted. But strange to see this house, that used to be so thronged, now empty since the Opera begun; and so will continue for a while, I believe. Called at my father’s, and there I heard that my uncle Robert1116 continues to have his fits of stupefaction every day for 10 or 12 hours together. From thence to the Exchange at night, and then went with my uncle Wight to the Mitre and were merry, but he takes it very ill that my father would go out of town to Brampton on this occasion and would not tell him of it, which I endeavoured to remove but could not. Here Mr. Batersby the apothecary was, who told me that if my uncle had the emerods1117 (which I think he had) and that now they are stopped, he will lay his life that bleeding behind by leeches will cure him, but I am resolved not to meddle in it. Home and to bed.
. At home, and in the afternoon to the office, and that being done all went to Sir W. Batten’s and there had a venison pasty, and were very merry. At night home and to bed.
. Waked this morning with news, brought me by a messenger on purpose, that my uncle Robert is dead, and died yesterday; so I rose sorry in some respect, glad in my expectations in another respect. So I made myself ready, went and told my uncle Wight, my Lady, and some others thereof, and bought me a pair of boots in St. Martin’s, and got myself ready, and then to the Post House and set out about eleven and twelve o’clock, taking the messenger with me that came to me, and so we rode and got well by nine o’clock to Brampton, where I found my father well. My uncle’s corpse in a coffin standing upon joint-stools in the chimney in the hall; but it begun to smell, and so I caused it to be set forth in the yard all night, and watched by two men. My aunt I found in bed in a most nasty ugly pickle, made me sick to see it. My father and I lay together tonight, I greedy to see the will, but did not ask to see it till tomorrow.
. In the morning my father and I walked in the garden and read the will; where, though he gives me nothing at present till my father’s death, or at least very little, yet I am glad to see that he hath done so well for us, all, and well to the rest of his kindred. After that done, we went about getting things, as ribbons and gloves, ready for the burial. Which in the afternoon was done; where, it being Sunday, all people far and near come in; and in the greatest disorder that ever I saw, we made shift to serve them what we had of wine and other things; and then to carry him to the church, where Mr. Taylor buried him, and Mr. Turner1118 preached a funerall sermon, where he spoke not particularly of him anything, but that he was one so well known for his honesty, that it spoke for itself above all that he could say for it. And so made a very good sermon. Home with some of the company who supped there, and things being quiet, at night to bed.
, , , , , . I fell to work, and my father to look over my uncle’s papers and clothes, and continued all this week upon that business, much troubled with my aunt’s base, ugly humours. We had news of Tom Trice’s putting in a caveat against us, in behalf of his mother, to whom my uncle hath not given anything, and for good reason therein expressed, which troubled us also. But above all, our trouble is to find that his estate appears nothing as we expected, and all the world believes; nor his papers so well sorted as I would have had them, but all in confusion, that break my brains to understand them. We missed also the surrenders of his copyhold land, without which the land would not come to us, but to the heir at law, so that what with this, and the badness of the drink and the ill opinion I have of the meat, and the biting of the gnats by night and my disappointment in getting home this week, and the trouble of sorting all the papers, I am almost out of my wits with trouble, only I appear the more contented, because I would not have my father troubled. The latter end of the week Mr. Philips1119 comes home from London, and so we advised with him and have the best counsel he could give us, but for all that we were not quiet in our minds.
. At home, and Robert Barnwell with us, and dined, and in the evening my father and I walked round Portholme and viewed all the fields, which was very pleasant. Thence to Hinchingbroke, which is now all in dirt, because of my Lord’s building, which will make it very magnificent. Back to Brampton, and to supper and to bed.
. Up by three o’clock this morning, and rode to Cambridge, and was there by seven o’clock, where, after I was trimmed, I went to Christ College, and found my brother John at eight o’clock in bed, which vexed me. Then to King’s College chapel, where I found the scholars in their surplices at the service with the organs, which is a strange sight to what it used in my time to be here. Then with Dr. Fairbrother (whom I met there) to the Rose Tavern, and called for some wine, and there met fortunately with Mr. Turner of our office, and sent for his wife, and were very merry (they being come to settle their son here), and sent also for Mr. Sanchy, of Magdalen, with whom and other gentlemen, friends of his, we were very merry, and I treated them as well as I could, and so at noon took horse again, having taken leave of my cousin Angier, and rode to Impington, where I found my old uncle1120 sitting all alone, like a man out of the world: he can hardly see; but all things else he do pretty livelyly. Then with Dr. John Pepys and him, I read over the will, and had their advice therein, who, as to the sufficiency thereof confirmed me, and advised me as to the other parts thereof. Having done there, I rode to Gravely1121 with much ado to inquire for a surrender of my uncle’s in some of the copyholders’ hands there, but I can hear of none, which puts me into very great trouble of mind, and so with a sad heart rode home to Brampton, but made myself as cheerful as I could to my father, and so to bed.
, , , . These four days we spent in putting things in order, letting of the crop upon the ground, agreeing with Stankes1122 to have a care of our business in our absence, and we think ourselves in nothing happy but in lighting upon him to be our bailey; in riding to Offord and Sturtlow, and up and down all our lands, and in the evening walking, my father and I about the fields talking, and had advice from Mr. Moore from London, by my desire, that the three witnesses of the will being all legatees, will not do the will any wrong. Tonight Serjeant Bernard,1123 I hear, is come home into the country. To supper and to bed. My aunt continuing in her base, hypocritical tricks, which both Jane Perkin (of whom we make great use), and the maid do tell us every day of.
. Up to Huntingdon this morning to Sir Robert Bernard, with whom I met Jaspar Trice.1124 So Sir Robert caused us to sit down together and began discourse very fairly between us, so I drew out the Will and show it him, and [he] spoke between us as well as I could desire, but could come to no issue till Tom Trice comes. Then Sir Robert and I fell to talk about the money due to us upon surrender from Piggott, £164, which he tells me will go with debts to the heir at law, which breaks my heart on the other side. Here I stayed and dined with Sir Robert Bernard and his lady, my Lady Digby, a very good woman. After dinner I went into the town and spent the afternoon, sometimes with Mr. Phillips, sometimes with Dr. Symcottes, Mr. Vinter, Robert Ethell, and many more friends, and at last Mr. Davenport, Phillips, Jaspar Trice, myself and others at Mother ⸻ over against the Crown we sat and drank ale and were very merry till 9 at night, and so broke up. I walked home, and there found Tom Trice come, and he and my father gone to Goody Gorum’s, where I found them and Jaspar Trice got before me, and Mr. Greene, and there had some calm discourse, but came to no issue, and so parted. So home and to bed, being now pretty well again of my left hand, which lately was stung and very much swelled.
. At home all the morning, putting my papers in order against my going tomorrow and doing many things else to that end. Had a good dinner, and Stankes and his wife with us. To my business again in the afternoon, and in the evening came the two Trices, Mr. Greene, and Mr. Philips, and so we began to argue. At last it came to some agreement that for our giving of my aunt £10 she is to quit the house, and for other matters they are to be left to the law, which do please us all, and so we broke up, pretty well satisfyed. Then came Mr. Barnwell and J. Bowles and supped with us, and after supper away, and so I having taken leave of them and put things in the best order I could against tomorrow I went to bed. Old William Luffe having been here this afternoon and paid up his bond of £20, and I did give him into his hand my uncle’s surrender of Sturtlow to me before Mr. Philips, R. Barnwell, and Mr. Pigott, which he did acknowledge to them my uncle did in his lifetime deliver to him.
. Up by three, and going by four on my way to London; but the day proves very cold, so that having put on no stockings but thread ones under my boots, I was fain at Bigglesworth1125 to buy a pair of coarse woollen ones, and put them on. So by degrees till I come to Hatfield before twelve o’clock, where I had a very good dinner with my hostess, at my Lord of Salisbury’s Inn, and after dinner though weary I walked all alone to the Vineyard, which is now a very beautiful place again;1126 and coming back I met with Mr. Looker, my Lord’s gardener (a friend of Mr. Eglin’s), who showed me the house, the chapel with brave pictures, and, above all, the gardens, such as I never saw in all my life; nor so good flowers, nor so great gooseberrys, as big as nutmegs. Back to the inn, and drank with him, and so to horse again, and with much ado got to London, and set him up at Smithfield; so called at my uncle Fenner’s, my mother’s, my Lady’s, and so home, in all which I found all things as well as I could expect. So weary and to bed.
. Put on my mourning. Made visits to Sir W. Penn and Batten. Then to Westminster, and at the Hall stayed talking with Mrs. Michell a good while, and in the afternoon, finding myself unfit for business, I went to the Theatre, and saw Brenoralt,1127 I never saw before. It seemed a good play, but ill acted; only I sat before Mrs. Palmer, the King’s mistress, and filled my eyes with her, which much pleased me. Then to my father’s, where by my desire I met my uncle Thomas, and discoursed of my uncle’s will to him, and did satisfy [him] as well as I could. So to my uncle Wight’s, but found him out of doors, but my aunt I saw and stayed a while, and so home and to bed. Troubled to hear how proud and idle Pall is grown, that I am resolved not to keep her.
. This morning my wife in bed tells me of our being robbed of our silver tankard, which vexed me all day for the negligence of my people to leave the door open. My wife and I by water to Whitehall, where I left her to her business and I to my cousin Thomas Pepys, and discoursed with him at large about our business of my uncle’s will. He can give us no light at all into his estate, but upon the whole tells me that he do believe that he has left but little money, though something more than we have found, which is about £500. Here came Sir G. Lane by chance, seeing a bill upon the door to hire the house, with whom my coz and I walked all up and down, and indeed it is a very pretty place, and he do intend to leave the agreement for the House, which is £400 fine, and £46 rent a year to me between them. Then to the Wardrobe, but come too late, and so dined with the servants. And then to my Lady, who do show my wife and me the greatest favour in the world, in which I take great content. Home by water and to the office all the afternoon, which is a great pleasure to me again, to talk with persons of quality and to be in command, and I give it out among them that the estate left me is £200 a year in land, besides moneys, because I would put an esteem upon myself. At night home and to bed after I had set down my journals ever since my going from London this journey to this house. This afternoon I hear that my man Will hath lost his clock with my tankard, at which I am very glad.
. This morning came my box of papers from Brampton of all my uncle’s papers, which will now set me at work enough. At noon I went to the Exchange, where I met my uncle Wight, and found him so discontented about my father (whether that he takes it ill that he has not been acquainted with things, or whether he takes it ill that he has nothing left him, I cannot tell), for which I am much troubled, and so stayed not long to talk with him. Thence to my mother’s, where I found my wife and my aunt Bell and Mrs. Ramsey, and great store of tattle there was between the old women and my mother, who thinks that there is, God knows what fallen to her, which makes me mad, but it was not a proper time to speak to her of it, and so I went away with Mr. Moore, and he and I to the Theatre, and saw The Jovial Crew,1128 the first time I saw it, and indeed it is as merry and the most innocent play that ever I saw, and well performed. From thence home, and wrote to my father and so to bed. Full of thoughts to think of the trouble that we shall go through before we come to see what will remain to us of all our expectations.
. At home all the morning, and walking met with Mr. Hill of Cambridge at Pope’s Head Alley with some women with him whom he took and me into the tavern there, and did give us wine, and would fain seem to be very knowing in the affairs of state, and tells me that yesterday1129 put a change to the whole state of England as to the Church; for the King now would be forced to favour Presbytery, or the City would leave him: but I heed not what he says, though upon enquiry I do find that things in the Parliament are in a great disorder. Home at noon and there found Mr. Moore, and with him to an ordinary alone and dined, and there he and I read my uncle’s will, and I had his opinion on it, and still find more and more trouble like to attend it. Back to the office all the afternoon, and that done home for all night. Having the beginning of this week made a vow to myself to drink no wine this week (finding it to unfit me to look after business), and this day breaking of it against my will, I am much troubled for it, but I hope God will forgive me.
. To Westminster, where at Mr. Montagu’s chamber I heard a Frenchman play, a friend of Monsieur Eschar’s, upon the guitar, most extreme well, though at the best methinks it is but a bauble. From thence to Westminster Hall, where it was expected that the Parliament was to have been adjourned for two or three months, but something hinders it for a day or two. In the lobby I spoke with Mr. George Montagu, and advised about a ship to carry my Lord Hinchingbroke and the rest of the young gentlemen to France, and they have resolved of going in a hired vessel from Rye, and not in a man of war. He told me in discourse that my Lord Chancellor is much envied, and that many great men, such as the Duke of Buckingham and my Lord of Bristoll,1130 do endeavour to undermine him, and that he believes it will not be done; for that the King (though he loves him not in the way of a companion, as he do these young gallants that can answer him in his pleasures), yet cannot be without him, for his policy and service. From thence to the Wardrobe, where my wife met me, it being my Lord of Sandwich’s birthday, and so we had many friends here, Mr. Townsend and his wife, and Captain Ferrers lady and Captain Isham, and were very merry, and had a good venison pasty. Mr. Pargiter, the merchant, was with us also. After dinner Mr. Townsend was called upon by Captain Cooke: so we three went to a tavern hard by, and there he did give us a song or two; and without doubt he hath the best manner of singing in the world. Back to my wife, and with my Lady Jem. and Pall1131 by water through bridge, and showed them the ships with great pleasure, and then took them to my house to show it them (my Lady their mother having been lately all alone to see it and my wife, in my absence in the country), and we treated them well, and were very merry. Then back again through bridge, and set them safe at home, and so my wife and I by coach home again, and after writing a letter to my father at Brampton, who, poor man, is there all alone, and I have not heard from him since my coming from him, which troubles me. To bed.
. This morning as my wife and I were going to church, comes Mrs. Ramsay to see us, so we sent her to church, and we went too, and came back to dinner, and she dined with us and was welcome. To church again in the afternoon, and then come home with us Sir W. Penn, and drank with us, and then went away, and my wife after him to see his daughter1132 that is lately come out of Ireland. I stayed at home at my book; she came back again and tells me that whereas I expected she should have been a great beauty, she is a very plain girl. This evening my wife gives me all my linen, which I have put up, and intend to keep it now in my own custody. To supper and to bed.
. This morning we began again to sit in the mornings at the office, but before we sat down. Sir R. Slingsby and I went to Sir R. Ford’s to see his house, and we find it will be very convenient for us to have it added to the office if he can be got to part with it. Then we sat down and did business in the office. So home to dinner, and my brother Tom dined with me, and after dinner he and I alone in my chamber had a great deal of talk, and I find that unless my father can forbear to make profit of his house in London and leave it to Tom, he has no mind to set up the trade anywhere else, and so I know not what to do with him. After this I went with him to my mother, and there told her how things do fall out short of our expectations, which I did (though it be true) to make her leave off her spending, which I find she is nowadays very free in, building upon what is left to us by my uncle to bear her out in it, which troubles me much. While I was here word is brought that my aunt Fenner is exceeding ill, and that my mother is sent for presently1133 to come to her: also that my cousin Charles Glassecocke,1134 though very ill himself, is this day gone to the country to his brother, John Glassecocke, who is a-dying there. Home.
. After my singing-master had done with me this morning, I went to Whitehall and Westminster Hall, where I found the King expected to come and adjourn the Parliament. I found the two Houses at a great difference, about the Lords challenging their privileges not to have their houses searched, which makes them deny to pass the House of Commons’ Bill for searching for pamphlets and seditious books. Thence by water to the Wardrobe (meeting the King upon the water going in his barge to adjourn the House) where I dined with my Lady, and there met Dr. Thomas Pepys, who I found to be a silly talking fellow, but very good-natured. So home to the office, where we met about the business of Tangier this afternoon. That done, at home I found Mr. Moore, and he and I walked into the City and there parted. To Fleet Street to find when the Assizes begin at Cambridge and Huntingdon, in order to my going to meet with Roger Pepys for counsel. So in Fleet Street I met with Mr. Salisbury, who is now grown in less than two years’ time so great a limner that he is become excellent, and gets a great deal of money at it. I took him to Hercules Pillars to drink, and there came Mr. Whore (whom I formerly have known), a friend of his to him, who is a very ingenious fellow, and there I sat with them a good while, and so home and wrote letters late to my Lord and to my father, and then to bed.
. Singing-master came to me this morning; then to the office all the morning. In the afternoon I went to the Theatre, and there I saw The Tamer Tamed1135 well done. And then home, and prepared to go to Walthamstow tomorrow. This night I was forced to borrow £40 of Sir W. Batten.
August 1661
. This morning Sir Williams both, and my wife and I and Mrs. Margarett Penn (this first time that I have seen her since she came from Ireland) went by coach to Walthamstow, a-gossiping to Mrs. Browne, where I did give her six silver spoons1136 for her boy. Here we had a venison pasty, brought hot from London, and were very merry. Only I hear how nurse’s husband has spoken strangely of my Lady Batten how she was such a man’s whore, who indeed is known to leave her her estate, which we would fain have reconciled today, but could not and indeed I do believe that the story is true. Back again at night home.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Dr. Thos. Pepys dined with me, and after dinner my brother Tom came to me and then I made myself ready to get a-horseback for Cambridge. So I set out and rode to Ware, this night, in the way having much discourse with a fellmonger,1137 a Quaker, who told me what a wicked man he had been all his lifetime till within this two years. Here I lay, and …
… got up early the next morning and got to Barkway, where I stayed and drank, and there met with a letter-carrier of Cambridge, with whom I rode all the way to Cambridge, my horse being tired, and myself very wet with rain. I went to the Castle Hill, where the judges were at the Assizes; and I stayed till Roger Pepys rose and went with him, and dined with his brother, the Doctor, and Claxton1138 at Trinity Hall. Then parted, and I went to the Rose, and there with Mr. Pechell,1139 Sanchy, and others, sat and drank till night and were very merry, only they tell me how high the old doctors are in the University over those they found there, though a great deal better scholars than themselves; for which I am very sorry, and, above all, Dr. Gunning. At night I took horse, and rode with Roger Pepys and his two brothers to Impington, and there with great respect was led up by them to the best chamber in the house, and there slept.
. Got up, and by and by walked into the orchard with my cousin Roger, and there plucked some fruit, and then discoursed at large about the business I came for, that is, about my uncle’s will, in which he did give me good satisfaction, but tells me I shall meet with a great deal of trouble in it. However, in all things he told me what I am to expect and what to do. To church, and had a good plain sermon, and my uncle Talbot went with us and at our coming in the country-people all rose with so much reverence; and when the parson begins, he begins “Right worshipful and dearly beloved” to us. Home to dinner, which was very good, and then to church again, and so home and to walk up and down and so to supper, and after supper to talk about public matters, wherein Roger Pepys (who I find a very sober man, and one whom I do now honour more than ever before for this discourse sake only) told me how basely things have been carried in Parliament by the young men, that did labour to oppose all things that were moved by serious men. That they are the most profane swearing fellows that ever he heard in his life, which makes him think that they will spoil all, and bring things into a war again if they can. So to bed.
. Early to Huntingdon, but was fain to stay a great while at Stanton because of the rain, and there borrowed a coat of a man for 6d., and so he rode all the way, poor man, without any. Stayed at Huntingdon for a little, but the judges are not come hither: so I went to Brampton, and there found my father very well, and my aunt gone from the house, which I am glad of, though it costs us a great deal of money, viz. £10. Here I dined, and after dinner took horse and rode to Yelling, to my cousin Nightingale’s, who hath a pretty house here, and did learn of her all she could tell me concerning my business, and has given me some light by her discourse how I may get a surrender made for Graveley lands. Hence to Graveley, and there at an alehouse met with Chancler and Jackson (one of my tenants for Cotton closes) and another with whom I had a great deal of discourse, much to my satisfaction. Hence back again to Brampton and after supper to bed, being now very quiet in the house, which is a content to us.
. Up early and went to Mr. Phillips, but lost my labour, he lying at Huntingdon last night, so I went back again and took horse and rode thither, where I stayed with Thos. Trice and Mr. Philips drinking till noon, and then Tom Trice and I to Brampton, where he to Goody Gorum’s and I home to my father, who could discern that I had been drinking, which he did never see or hear of before, so I eat a bit of dinner and went with him to Gorum’s, and there talked with Tom Trice, and then went and took horse for London, and with much ado, the ways being very bad, got to Baldwick,1140 and there lay and had a good supper by myself. The landlady being a pretty woman, but I durst not take notice of her, her husband being there. Before supper I went to see the church, which is a very handsome church, but I find that both here, and everywhere else that I come, the Quakers do still continue, and rather grow than lessen. To bed.
. Called up at three o’clock, and was a-horseback by four; and as I was eating my breakfast I saw a man riding by that rode a little way upon the road with me last night; and he being going with venison in his pan-yards1141 to London, I called him in and did give him his breakfast with me, and so we went together all the way. At Hatfield we baited and walked into the great house through all the courts; and I would fain have stolen a pretty dog that followed me, but I could not, which troubled me. To horse again, and by degrees with much ado got to London, where I found all well at home and at my father’s and my Lady’s, but no news yet from my Lord where he is. At my Lady’s (whither I went with Dean Fuller, who came to my house to see me just as I was come home) I met with Mr. Moore, who told me at what a loss he was for me, for tomorrow is a Seal day at the Privy Seal, and it being my month, I am to wait upon my Lord Roberts,1142 Lord Privy Seal, at the Seal. Home and to bed.
. Early in the morning to Whitehall, but my Lord Privy Seal came not all the morning. At noon Mr. Moore and I to the Wardrobe to dinner, where my Lady and all merry and well. Back again to the Privy Seal; but my Lord comes not all the afternoon, which made me mad and gives all the world reason to talk of his delaying of business, as well as of his severity and ill using of the Clerks of the Privy Seal. In the evening I took Mons. Eschar and Mr. Moore and Dr. Pierce’s brother (the souldier) to the tavern next the Savoy, and there stayed and drank with them. Here I met with Mr. Mage,1143 and discoursing of music Mons. Eschar spoke so much against the English and in praise of the French that made him mad, and so he went away. After a stay with them a little longer we parted and I home.
. To the office, where word is brought me by a son-in-law of Mr. Pierce’s,1144 the purser, that his father is a dying and that he desires that I would come to him before he dies. So I rose from the table and went, where I found him not so ill as I thought that he had been ill. So I did promise to be a friend to his wife and family if he should die, which was all he desired of me, but I do believe he will recover. Back again to the office, where I found Sir G. Carteret had a day or two ago invited some of the officers to dinner today at Deptford. So at noon, when I heard that he was a-coming, I went out, because I would see whether he would send to me or no to go with them; but he did not, which do a little trouble me till I see how it comes to pass. Although in other things I am glad of it because of my going again today to the Privy Seal. I dined at home, and having dined news is brought by Mr. Hater that his wife is now falling into labour, so he is come for my wife, who presently went with him. I to Whitehall, where, after four o’clock, comes my Lord Privy Seal, and so we went up to his chamber over the gate at Whitehall,1145 where he asked me what deputac̃on I had from My Lord. I told him none; but that I am sworn my Lord’s deputy by both of the Secretaries, which did satisfy him. So he caused Mr. Moore to read over all the bills as is the manner, and all ended very well. So that I see the Lion is not so fierce as he is painted. That being done Mons. Eschar (who all this afternoon had been waiting at the Privy Seal for the Warrant for £5,000 for my Lord of Sandwich’s preparation for Portugal) and I took some wine with us and went to visit la belle Pierce, who we find very big with child, and a pretty lady, one Mrs. Clifford, with her, where we stayed and were extraordinary merry. From thence I took coach to my father’s, where I found him come home this day from Brampton (as I expected) very well, and after some discourse about business and it being very late I took coach again home, where I hear by my wife that Mrs. Hater is not yet delivered, but continues in her pains. So to bed.
. This morning came the maid that my wife hath lately hired for a chamber maid. She is very ugly, so that I cannot care for her, but otherwise she seems very good. But however she do come about three weeks hence, when my wife comes back from Brampton, if she go with my father. By and by came my father to my house, and so he and I went and found out my uncle Wight at the Coffee House, and there did agree with him to meet the next week with my uncle Thomas and read over the Captain’s will before them both for their satisfaction. Having done with him I went to my Lady’s and dined with her, and after dinner took the two young gentlemen and the two ladies and carried them and Captain Ferrers to the Theatre, and showed them The Merry Devill of Edmunton,1146 which is a very merry play, the first time I ever saw it, which pleased me well. And that being done I took them all home by coach to my house and there gave them fruit to eat and wine. So by water home with them, and so home myself.
. To our own church in the forenoon, and in the afternoon to Clerkenwell Church,1147 only to see the two fair Botelers;1148 and I happened to be placed in the pew where they afterwards came to sit, but the pew by their coming being too full, I went out into the next, and there sat, and had my full view of them both, but I am out of conceit now with them, Colonel Dillon being come back from Ireland again, and do still court them, and comes to church with them, which makes me think they are not honest. Hence to Graye’s-Inn walks, and there stayed a good while; where I met with Ned Pickering, who told me what a great match of hunting of a stag the King had yesterday; and how the King tired all their horses, and come home with not above two or three able to keep pace with him. So to my father’s, and there supped, and so home.
. At the office this morning. At home in the afternoon, and had notice that my Lord Hinchingbroke is fallen ill, which I fear is with the fruit that I did give them on Saturday last at my house: so in the evening I went thither and there found him very ill, and in great fear of the smallpox. I supped with my Lady, and did consult about him, but we find it best to let him lie where he do; and so I went home with my heart full of trouble for my Lord Hinchingbroke’s sickness, and more for my Lord Sandwich’s himself, whom we are now confirmed is sick ashore at Alicante, who, if he should miscarry, God knows in what condition would his family be. I dined today with my Lord Crew, who is now at Sir H. Wright’s, while his new house is making fit for him, and he is much troubled also at these things.
. To the Privy Seal in the morning, then to the Wardrobe to dinner, where I met my wife, and found my young Lord very ill. So my Lady intends to send her other three sons, Sidney, Oliver, and John,1149 to my house, for fear of the smallpox. After dinner I went to my father’s, where I found him within, and went up to him, and there found him settling his papers against his removal, and I took some old papers of difference between me and my wife and took them away. After that Pall being there I spoke to my father about my intention not to keep her longer for such and such reasons, which troubled him and me also, and had like to have come to some high words between my mother and me, who is become a very simple woman. By and by comes in Mrs. Cordery to take her leave of my father, thinking he was to go presently into the country, and will have us to come and see her before he do go. Then my father and I went forth to Mr. Rawlinson’s, where afterwards comes my uncle Thomas and his two sons, and then my uncle Wight by appointment of us all, and there we read the will and told them how things are, and what our thoughts are of kindness to my uncle Thomas1150 if he do carry himself peaceable, but otherwise if he persist to keep his caveat up against us. So he promised to withdraw it, and seemed to be very well contented with things as they are. After a while drinking, we paid all and parted, and so I home, and there found my Lady’s three sons come, of which I am glad that I am in condition to do her and my Lord any service in this kind, but my mind is yet very much troubled about my Lord of Sandwich’s health, which I am afeard of.
. This morning Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn and I, waited upon the Duke of York in his chamber, to give him an account of the condition of the Navy for lack of money, and how our own very bills are offered upon the Exchange, to be sold at 20 in the 100 loss. He is much troubled at it, and will speak to the King and Council of it this morning. So I went to my Lady’s and dined with her, and found my Lord Hinchingbroke somewhat better. After dinner Captain Ferrers and I to the Theatre, and there saw The Alchymist; and there I saw Sir W. Penn, who took us when the play was done and carried the Captain to Paul’s and set him down, and me home with him, and he and I to the Dolphin, but not finding Sir W. Batten there, we went and carried a bottle of wine to his house, and there sat a while and talked, and so home to bed. At home I found a letter from Mr. Creed of the 15th of July last, that tells me that my Lord is rid of his pain (which was wind got into the muscles of his right side) and his feaver, and is now in hopes to go aboard in a day or two, which do give me mighty great comfort.
. To the Privy Seal and Whitehall, up and down, and at noon Sir W. Penn carried me to Paul’s, and so I walked to the Wardrobe and dined with my Lady, and there told her, of my Lord’s sickness (of which though it hath been the town-talk this fortnight, she had heard nothing)1151 and recovery, of which she was glad, though hardly persuaded of the latter. I found my Lord Hinchingbroke better and better, and the worst past. Thence to the Opera, which begins again today with The Witts,1152 never acted yet with scenes; and the King and Duke and Duchess were there (who dined today with Sir H. Finch,1153 reader at the Temple, in great state); and indeed it is a most excellent play, and admirable scenes. So home and was overtaken by Sir W. Penn in his coach, who has been this afternoon with my Lady Batten, etc., at the Theatre. So I followed him to the Dolphin, where Sir W. Batten was, and there we sat awhile, and so home after we had made shift to fuddle Mr. Falconer of Woolwich. So home.
. At the office all the morning, though little to be done; because all our clerks are gone to the buriall of Tom Whitton, one of the Controller’s clerks, a very ingenious, and a likely young man to live, as any in the Office. But it is such a sickly time both in City and country everywhere (of a sort of fever), that never was heard of almost, unless it was in a plague-time. Among others, the famous Tom Fuller1154 is dead of it; and Dr. Nichols,1155 Dean of Paul’s; and my Lord General Monk is very dangerously ill. Dined at home with the children and were merry, and my father with me; who after dinner he and I went forth about business. Among other things we found one Dr. John Williams at an alehouse, where we stayed till past nine at night, in Shoe Lane, talking about our country business, and I found him so well acquainted with the matters of Gravely that I expect he will be of great use to me. So by link home. I understand my Aunt Fenner is upon the point of death.
. At the Privy Seal, where we had a seal this morning. Then met with Ned Pickering, and walked with him into St. James’s Park (where I had not been a great while), and there found great and very noble alterations. And, in our discourse, he was very forward to complain and to speak loud of the lewdness and beggary of the Court, which I am sorry to hear, and which I am afeard will bring all to ruin again. So he and I to the Wardrobe to dinner, and after dinner Captain Ferrers and I to the Opera, and saw The Witts again, which I like exceedingly. The Queen of Bohemia was here, brought by my Lord Craven.1156 So the Captain and I and another to the Devil tavern and drank, and so by coach home. Troubled in mind that I cannot bring myself to mind my business, but to be so much in love of plays. We have been at a great loss a great while for a vessel that I sent about a month ago with, things of my Lord’s to Lynn, and cannot till now hear of them, but now we are told that they are put into Soale Bay, but to what purpose I know not.
. To our own church in the morning and so home to dinner, where my father and Dr. Tom Pepys came to me to dine, and were very merry. After dinner I took my wife and Mr. Sidney to my Lady to see my Lord Hinchingbroke, who is now pretty well again, and sits up and walks about his chamber. So I went to Whitehall, and there hear that my Lord General Monk continues very ill: so I went to la belle Pierce and sat with her; and then to walk in St. James’s Park, and saw great variety of fowl which I never saw before and so home. At night fell to read in Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity, which Mr. Moore did give me last Wednesday very handsomely bound; and which I shall read with great pains and love for his sake. So to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning; at noon the children are sent for by their mother my Lady Sandwich to dinner, and my wife goes along with them by coach, and she to my father’s and dines there, and from thence with them to see Mrs. Cordery, who do invite them before my father goes into the country, and thither I should have gone too but that I am sent for to the Privy Seal, and there I found a thing of my Lord Chancellor’s1157 to be sealed this afternoon, and so I am forced to go to Worcester House, where severall Lords are met in Council this afternoon. And while I am waiting there, in comes the King in a plain common riding-suit and velvet cap, in which he seemed a very ordinary man to one that had not known him. Here I stayed till at last, hearing that my Lord Privy Seal had not the seal here, Mr. Moore and I hired a coach and went to Chelsy,1158 and there at an alehouse sat and drank and past the time till my Lord Privy Seal came to his house, and so we to him and examined and sealed the thing, and so homewards, but when we came to look for our coach we found it gone, so we were fain to walk home afoot and saved our money. We met with a companion that walked with us, and coming among some trees near the Neate1159 houses, he began to whistle, which did give us some suspicion, but it proved that he that answered him was Mr. Marsh1160 (the Lutenist) and his wife, and so we all walked to Westminster together, in our way drinking a while at my cost, and had a song of him, but his voice is quite lost. So walked home, and there I found that my Lady do keep the children at home, and lets them not come any more hither at present, which a little troubles me to lose their company. This day my aunt Fenner died.
. At the office in the morning and all the afternoon at home to put my papers in order. This day we come to some agreement with Sir R. Ford for his house to be added to the office to enlarge our quarters.
. This morning by appointment I went to my father, and after a morning draught he and I went to Dr. Williams, but he not within we went to Mrs. Terry, a daughter of Mr. Whately’s, who lately offered a proposal of her sister for a wife for my brother Tom, and with her we discoursed about and agreed to go to her mother this afternoon to speak with her, and in the meantime went to Will. Joyce’s and to an alehouse, and drank a good while together, he being very angry that his father Fenner will give him and his brother no more for mourning than their father did give him and my aunt at their mother’s death, and a very troublesome fellow I still find him to be, that his company ever wearies me. From thence about two o’clock to Mrs. Whately’s, but she being going to dinner we went to Whitehall and there stayed till past three, and here I understand by Mr. Moore that my Lady Sandwich1161 is brought to bed yesterday of a young Lady, and is very well. So to Mrs. Whately’s again, and there were well received, and she desirous to have the thing go forward, only is afeard that her daughter is too young and portion not big enough, but offers £200 down with her. The girl is very well favoured, and a very child, but modest, and one I think will do very well for my brother: so parted till she hears from Hatfield from her husband, who is there; but I find them very desirous of it, and so am I. Hence home to my father’s, and I to the Wardrobe, where I supped with the ladies,1162 and hear their mother is well and the young child, and so home.
. To the Privy Seal, and sealed; so home at noon, and there took my wife by coach to my uncle Fenner’s, where there was both at his house and the Sessions, great deal of company, but poor entertainment, which I wonder at; and the house so hot, that my uncle Wight, my father and I were fain to go out, and stay at an alehouse awhile to cool ourselves. Then back again and to church, my father’s family being all in mourning, doing him the greatest honour, the world believing that he did give us it: so to church, and stayed out the sermon, and then with my aunt Wight, my wife, and Pall and I to her house by coach, and there stayed and supped upon a Westphalia ham, and so home and to bed.
. This morning I went to my father’s, and there found him and my mother in a discontent, which troubles me much, and indeed she is become very simple and unquiet. Hence he and I to Dr. Williams, and found him within, and there we sat and talked a good while, and from him to Tom Trice’s to an alehouse near, and there sat and talked, and finding him fair we examined my uncle’s will before him and Dr. Williams, and had them sign the copy and so did give T. Trice the original to prove, so he took my father and me to one of the judges of the Court, and there we were sworn, and so back again to the alehouse and drank and parted. Dr. Williams and I to a cook’s where we eat a bit of mutton, and away, I to W. Joyce’s, where by appointment my wife was, and I took her to the Opera, and showed her The Witts, which I had seen already twice, and was most highly pleased with it. So with my wife to the Wardrobe to see my Lady, and then home.
. At the office all the morning and did business; by and by we are called to Sir W. Batten’s to see the strange creature that Captain Holmes hath brought with him from Guinea; it is a great baboon, but so much like a man in most things, that though they say there is a species of them, yet I cannot believe but that it is a monster got of a man and she-baboon. I do believe that it already understands much English, and I am of the mind it might be taught to speak or make signs. Hence the Comptroller and I to Sir Rd. Ford’s and viewed the house again, and are come to a complete end with him to give him £200 per an. for it. Home and there met Capt. Isham inquiring for me to take his leave of me, he being upon his voyage to Portugal, and for my letters to my Lord which are not ready. But I took him to the Mitre and gave him a glass of sack, and so adieu, and then straight to the Opera, and there saw Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, done with scenes very well, but above all, Betterton1163 did the prince’s part beyond imagination. Hence homeward, and met with Mr. Spong and took him to the Sampson in Paul’s churchyard, and there stayed till late, and it rained hard, so we were fain to get home wet, and so to bed.
. At church in the morning, and dined at home alone with my wife very comfortably, and so again to church with her, and had a very good and pungent sermon of Mr. Mills, discoursing the necessity of restitution. Home, and I found my Lady Batten and her daughter to look something askew upon my wife, because my wife do not buckle to them, and is not solicitous for their acquaintance, which I am not troubled at at all. By and by comes in my father (he intends to go into the country tomorrow), and he and I among other discourse at last called Pall up to us, and there in great anger told her before my father that I would keep her no longer, and my father he said he would have nothing to do with her. At last, after we had brought down her high spirit, I got my father to yield that she should go into the country with my mother and him, and stay there awhile to see how she will demean herself. That being done, my father and I to my uncle Wight’s, and there supped, and he took his leave of them, and so I walked with [him] as far as Paul’s and there parted, and I home, my mind at some rest upon this making an end with Pall, who do trouble me exceedingly.
. This morning before I went out I made even with my maid Jane, who has this day been my maid three years, and is this day to go into the country to her mother. The poor girl cried, and I could hardly forbear weeping to think of her going, for though she be grown lazy and spoilt by Pall’s coming, yet I shall never have one to please us better in all things, and so harmless, while I live. So I paid her her wages and gave her 2s. 6d. over, and bade her adieu, with my mind full of trouble at her going. Hence to my father, where he and I and Thomas together setting things even, and casting up my father’s accounts, and upon the whole I find that all he hath in money of his own due to him in the world is but £45, and he owes about the same sum: so that I cannot but think in what a condition he had left my mother if he should have died before my uncle Robert. Hence to Tom Trice for the probate of the will and had it done to my mind, which did give my father and me good content. From thence to my Lady at the Wardrobe and thence to the Theatre, and saw the Antipodes,1164 wherein there is much mirth, but no great matter else. Hence with Mr. Bostock whom I met there (a clerk formerly of Mr. Phelps) to the Devil tavern, and there drank and so away. I to my uncle Fenner’s, where my father was with him at an alehouse, and so we three went by ourselves and sat talking a great while about a broker’s daughter that he do propose for a wife for Tom, with a great portion, but I fear it will not take, but he will do what he can. So we broke up, and going through the street we met with a mother and son, friends of my father’s man, Ned’s, who are angry at my father’s putting him away, which troubled me and my father, but all will be well as to that. We have news this morning of my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas being gone into the country without giving notice thereof to anybody, which puts us to a stand, but I fear them not. At night at home I found a letter from my Lord Sandwich, who is now very well again of his feaver, but not yet gone from Alicante, where he lay sick, and was twice let blood. This letter dated the 22nd July last, which puts me out of doubt of his being ill. In my coming home I called in at the 3 Crane tavern1165 at the Stocks by appointment, and there met and took leave of Mr. Fanshaw, who goes tomorrow and Captain Isham toward their voyage to Portugal. Here we drank a great deal of wine, I too much and Mr. Fanshaw till he could hardly go. So we took leave one of another.
. This morning to the Wardrobe, and there took leave of my Lord Hinchingbroke and his brother, and saw them go out by coach toward Rye in their way to France, whom God bless. Then I was called up to my Lady’s bedside, where we talked an hour about Mr. Edward Montagu’s disposing of the £5,000 for my Lord’s departure for Portugal, and our fears that he will not do it to my Lord’s honour, and less to his profit, which I am to enquire a little after. Hence to the office, and there sat till noon, and then my wife and I by coach to my cousin, Thos. Pepys, the Executor, to dinner, where some ladies and my father and mother, where very merry, but methinks he makes but poor dinners for such guests, though there was a poor venison pasty. Hence my wife and I to the Theatre, and there saw The Joviall Crew,1166 where the King, Duke and Duchess, and Madame Palmer, were; and my wife, to her great content, had a full sight of them all the while. The play full of mirth. Hence to my father’s, and there stayed to talk a while and so by foot home by moonshine. In my way and at home, my wife making a sad story to me of her brother Balty’s1167 condition, and would have me to do something for him, which I shall endeavour to do, but am afeard to meddle therein for fear I shall not be able to wipe my hands of him again, when I once concern myself for him. I went to bed, my wife all the while telling me his case with tears, which troubled me.
. At home all the morning setting papers in order. At noon to the Exchange, and there met with Dr. Williams by appointment, and with him went up and down to look for an attorney, a friend of his, to advise with about our bond of my aunt Pepys of £200, and he tells me absolutely that we shall not be forced to pay interest for the money yet. I do doubt it very much. I spent the whole afternoon drinking with him and so home. This day I counterfeited a letter to Sir W. Penn, as from the thief that stole his tankard lately, only to abuse and laugh at him.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon my father, mother, and my aunt Bell (the first time that ever she was at my house) come to dine with me, and were very merry. After dinner the two women went to visit my aunt Wight, etc., and my father about other business, and I abroad to my bookseller, and there stayed till four o’clock, at which time by appointment I went to meet my father at my uncle Fenner’s. So thither I went and with him to an alehouse, and there came Mr. Evans, the tailor, whose daughter we have had a mind to get for a wife for Tom, and then my father, and there we sat a good while and talked about the business; in fine he told us that he hath not to except against us or our motion, but that the estate that God hath blessed him with is too great to give where there is nothing in present possession but a trade and house; and so we friendly ended. There parted, my father and I together, and walked a little way, and then at Holborn he and I took leave of one another, he being to go to Brampton (to settle things against my mother comes) tomorrow morning. So I home.
. At noon my wife and I met at the Wardrobe, and there dined with the children, and after dinner up to my Lady’s bedside, and talked and laughed a good while. Then my wife and I to Drury Lane to the French comedy,1168 which was so ill done, and the scenes and company and everything else so nasty and out of order and poor, that I was sick all the while in my mind to be there. Here my wife met with a son of my Lord Somersett,1169 whom she knew in France, a pretty man; I showed him no great countenance, to avoyd further acquaintance. That done, there being nothing pleasant but the foolery of the farce, we went home.
. At home and the office all the morning, and at noon comes Luellin to me, and he and I to the tavern and after that to Bartholomew fair, and there upon his motion to a pitiful alehouse, where we had a dirty slut or two come up that were whores, but my very heart went against them, so that I took no pleasure but a great deal of trouble in being there and getting from thence for fear of being seen. From hence he and I walked towards Ludgate and parted. I back again to the fair all alone, and there met with my Ladies Jemimah and Paulina, with Mr. Pickering and Mademoiselle,1170 at seeing the monkeys dance, which was much to see, when they could be brought to do so, but it troubled me to sit among such nasty company. After that with them into Christ’s Hospitall, and there Mr. Pickering bought them some fairings, and I did give every one of them a bauble, which was the little globes of glass with things hanging in them, which pleased the ladies very well. After that home with them in their coach, and there was called up to my Lady, and she would have me stay to talk with her, which I did I think a full hour. And the poor lady did with so much innocency tell me how Mrs. Crispe had told her that she did intend, by means of a lady that lies at her house, to get the King to be godfather to the young lady that she is in childbed now of; but to see in what a manner my Lady told it me, protesting that she sweat in the very telling of it, was the greatest pleasure to me in the world to see the simplicity and harmlessness of a lady. Then down to supper with the ladies, and so home, Mr. Moore (as he and I cannot easily part) leading me as far as Fenchurch Street to the Mitre, where we drank a glass of wine and so parted, and I home and to bed.
Thus ends the month. My maid Jane newly gone, and Pall left now to do all the work till another maid comes, which shall not be till she goes away into the country with my mother. Myself and wife in good health. My Lord Sandwich in the Straits and newly recovered of a great sickness at Alicante. My father gone to settle at Brampton, and myself under much business and trouble for to settle things in the estate to our content. But what is worst, I find myself lately too much given to seeing of plays, and expense, and pleasure, which makes me forget my business, which I must labour to amend. No money comes in, so that I have been forced to borrow a great deal for my own expenses, and to furnish my father, to leave things in order. I have some trouble about my brother Tom, who is now left to keep my father’s trade, in which I have great fears that he will miscarry for want of brains and care. At Court things are in very ill condition, there being so much emulacion, poverty, and the vices of drinking, swearing, and loose amours, that I know not what will be the end of it, but confusion. And the Clergy so high, that all people that I meet with do protest against their practice. In short, I see no content or satisfaction anywhere, in any one sort of people. The Benevolence1171 proves so little, and an occasion of so much discontent everywhere; that it had better it had never been set up. I think to subscribe £20. We are at our Office quiet, only for lack of money all things go to rack. Our very bills offered to be sold upon the Exchange at 10 percent loss. We are upon getting Sir R. Ford’s house added to our Office. But I see so many difficulties will follow in pleasing of one another in the dividing of it, and in becoming bound personally to pay the rent of £200 per annum, that I do believe it will yet scarce come to pass. The season very sickly everywhere of strange and fatal fevers.
September 1661
. Last night being very rainy [the rain] broke into my house, the gutter being stopped, and spoiled all my ceilings almost. At church in the morning, and dined at home with my wife. After dinner to Sir W. Batten’s, where I found Sir W. Penn and Captain Holmes. Here we were very merry with Sir W. Penn about the loss of his tankard, though all be but a cheat, and he do not yet understand it; but the tankard was stole by Sir W. Batten, and the letter, as from the thief, wrote by me, which makes very good sport. Here I stayed all the afternoon, and then Captain Holmes and I by coach to Whitehall; in our way, I found him by discourse, to be a great friend of my Lord’s, and he told me there was many did seek to remove him; but they were old seamen, such as Sir J. Minnes (but he would name no more, though I do believe Sir W. Batten is one of them that do envy him), but he says he knows that the King do so love him, and the Duke of York too, that there is no fear of him. He seems to be very well acquainted with the King’s mind, and with all the several factions at Court, and spoke all with so much frankness, that I do take him to be my Lord’s good friend, and one able to do him great service, being a cunning fellow, and one (by his own confession to me) that can put on two several faces, and look his enemies in the face with as much love as his friends. But, good God! what an age is this, and what a world is this! that a man cannot live without playing the knave and dissimulation. At Whitehall we parted, and I to Mrs. Pierce’s, meeting her and Madam Clifford in the street, and there stayed talking and laughing with them a good while, and so back to my mother’s, and there supped, and so home and to bed.
. In the morning to my cousin Thos. Pepys, executor, and there talked with him about my uncle Thomas, his being in the country, but he could not advise me to anything therein, not knowing what the other has done in the country, and so we parted. And so to Whitehall, and there my Lord Privy Seal, who has been out of town this week, not being yet come, we can have no seal, and therefore meeting with Mr. Battersby the apothecary in Fenchurch Street to the King’s Apothecary’s chamber in Whitehall, and there drank a bottle or two of wine, and so he and I by water towards London. I landed at Blackfriars and so to the Wardrobe and dined, and then back to Whitehall with Captain Ferrers, and there walked, and thence to Westminster Hall, where we met with Mr. Pickering, and so all of us to the Rhenish wine house (Prior’s), where the master of the house is laying out some money in making a cellar with an arch in his yard, which is very convenient for him. Here we stayed a good while, and so Mr. Pickering and I to Westminster Hall again, and there walked an hour or two talking, and though he be a fool, yet he keeps much company, and will tell all he sees or hears, and so a man may understand what the common talk of the town is, and I find by him that there are endeavours to get my Lord out of play at sea, which I believe Mr. Coventry and the Duke do think will make them more absolute; but I hope, for all this, they will not be able to do it. He tells me plainly of the vices of the Court, and how the pox is so common there, and so I hear on all hands that it is as common as eating and swearing. From him by water to the bridge, and thence to the Mitre, where I met my uncle and aunt Wight come to see Mrs. Rawlinson (in her husband’s absence out of town), and so I stayed with them and Mr. Lucas and other company, very merry, and so home, Where my wife has been busy all the day making of pies, and had been abroad and bought things for herself, and tells that she met at the ’Change with my young ladies of the Wardrobe and there helped them to buy things, and also with Mr. Somerset, who did give her a bracelet of rings, which did a little trouble me, though I know there is no hurt yet in it, but only for fear of further acquaintance. So to bed. This night I sent another letter to Sir W. Penn to offer him the return of his tankard upon his leaving of 30s. at a place where it should be brought. The issue of which I am to expect.
. This day some of us Commissioners went down to Deptford to pay off some ships, but I could not go, but stayed at home all the morning setting papers to rights, and this morning Mr. Howell, our turner, sent me two things to file papers on very handsome. Dined at home, and then with my wife to the Wardrobe, where my Lady’s child was christened (my Lord Crew and his Lady, and my Lady Montagu, my Lord’s mother-in-law, were the witnesses), and named Katherine1172 (the Queen elect’s name); but to my and all our trouble, the Parson of the parish christened her, and did not sign the child with the sign of the cross. After that was done, we had a very fine banquet, the best I ever was at, and so (there being very little company) we by and by broke up, and my wife and I to my mother, who I took a liberty to advise about her getting things ready to go this week into the country to my father, and she (being become nowadays very simple) took it very ill, and we had a great deal of noise and wrangling about it. So home by coach.
. In the morning to the Privy Seal to do some things of the last month, my Lord Privy Seal having been some time out of town. Then my wife came to me to Whitehall, and we went and walked a good while in St. James’s Park to see the brave alterations, and so to Wilkinson’s, the Cook’s, to dinner, where we sent for Mrs. Sarah and there dined and had oysters, the first I have eat this year, and were pretty good. After dinner by agreement to visit Mrs. Symonds, but she is abroad, which I wonder at, and so missing her my wife again to my mother’s (calling at Mrs. Pierce’s, who we found brought to bed of a girl last night) and there stayed and drank, and she resolves to be going tomorrow without fail. Many friends come in to take their leave of her, but a great deal of stir I had again tonight about getting her to go to see my Lady Sandwich before she goes, which she says she will do tomorrow. So I home.
. To the Privy Seal this morning about business, in my way taking leave of my mother, who goes to Brampton today. But doing my business at the Privy Seal pretty soon, I took boat and went to my uncle Fenner’s, and there I found my mother and my wife and Pall (of whom I had this morning at my own house taken leave, and given her 20s. and good counsel how to carry herself to my father and mother), and so I took them, it being late, to Beard’s, where they were stayed for, and so I put them into the wagon, and saw them going presently, Pall crying exceedingly. Then in with my wife, my aunt Bell and Charles Pepys, whom we met there, and drank, and so to my uncle Fenner’s to dinner (in the way meeting a French footman1173 with feathers, who was in quest of my wife, and spoke with her privately, but I could not tell what it was, only my wife promised to go to some place tomorrow morning, which do trouble my mind how to know whither it was), where both his sons and daughters were, and there we were merry and dined. After dinner news was brought that my aunt Kite, the butcher’s widow in London, is sick ready to die and sends for my uncle and me to come to take charge of things, and to be entrusted with the care of her daughter. But I through want of time to undertake such a business, I was taken up by Antony Joyce, which came at last to very high words, which made me very angry, and I did not think that he would ever have been such a fool to meddle with other people’s business, but I saw he spoke worse to his father than to me and therefore I bore it the better, but all the company was offended with him, so we parted angry he and I, and so my wife and I to the fair, and I showed her the Italians dancing the ropes, and the women that do strange tumbling tricks and so by foot home vexed in my mind about Antony Joyce.
. This morning my uncle Fenner by appointment came and drank his morning draught with me, and from thence he and I go to see my aunt Kite (my wife holding her resolution to go this morning as she resolved yesterday, and though there could not be much hurt in it, yet my own jealousy put a hundred things into my mind, which did much trouble me all day), whom we found in bed and not like to live as we think, and she told us her mind was that if she should die she should give all she had to her daughter, only £5 apiece to her second husband’s children, in case they live to come out of their apprenticeships, and that if her daughter should die before marrying, then £10 to be divided between Sarah Kite’s children and the rest as her own daughter shall dispose of it, and this I set down that I may be able to swear in case there should be occasion. From thence to an alehouse while it rained, which kept us there I think above two hours, and at last we were fain to go through the rainy street home, calling on his sister Utbeck and drank there. Then I home to dinner all alone, and thence my mind being for my wife’s going abroad much troubled and unfit for business, I went to the Theatre, and saw Elder Brother1174 ill acted; that done, meeting here with Sir G. Askew,1175 Sir Theophilus Jones,1176 and another Knight, with Sir W. Penn, we to the Ship tavern, and there stayed and were merry till late at night, and so got a coach, and Sir Wm. and I home, where my wife had been long come home, but I seemed very angry, as indeed I am, and did not all night show her any countenance, neither before nor in bed, and so slept and rose discontented.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Mr. Moore dined with me, and then in comes Wm. Joyce to answer a letter of mine I wrote this morning to him about a maid of his that my wife had hired, and she sent us word that she was hired to stay longer with her master, which mistake he came to clear himself of; and I took it very kindly. So I having appointed the young ladies at the Wardrobe to go with them to a play today, I left him and my brother Tom who came along with him to dine, and my wife and I took them to the Theatre, where we seated ourselves close by the King, and Duke of York, and Madame Palmer, which was great content; and, indeed, I can never enough admire her beauty. And here was Bartholomew Fair, with the puppet-show, acted today, which had not been these forty years (it being so satyricall against Puritanism, they durst not till now, which is strange they should already dare to do it, and the King do countenance it), but I do never a whit like it the better for the puppets, but rather the worse. Thence home with the ladies, it being by reason of our staying a great while for the King’s coming, and the length of the play, near nine o’clock before it was done, and so in their coach home, and still in discontent with my wife, to bed, and rose so this morning also.
. To church, it being a very wet night last night and today, dined at home, and so to church again with my wife in the afternoon, and coming home again found our new maid Doll1177 asleep, that she could not hear to let us in, so that we were fain to send the boy in at a window to open the door to us. So up to my chamber all alone, and troubled in mind to think how much of late I have addicted myself to expense and pleasure, that now I can hardly reclaim myself to look after my great business of settling Gravely business, until now almost too late. I pray God give me grace to begin now to look after my business, but it always was, and I fear will ever be, my foible that after I am once got behindhand with business, I am hard to set to it again to recover it. In the evening I begun to look over my accounts and upon the whole I do find myself, by what I can yet see, worth near £600, for which God be blessed, which put me into great comfort. So to supper and to bed.
. To the Privy Seal in the morning, but my Lord did not come, so I went with Captain Morrice at his desire into the King’s Privy Kitchen to Mr. Sayers, the Master Cook, and there we had a good slice of beef or two to our breakfast, and from thence he took us into the wine cellar where, by my troth, we were very merry, and I drank too much wine, and all along had great and particular kindness from Mr. Sayers, but I drank so much wine that I was not fit for business, and therefore at noon I went and walked in Westminster Hall a while, and thence to Salisbury Court play house, where was acted the first time ’Tis Pity Shee’s a Whore,1178 a simple play and ill acted, only it was my fortune to sit by a most pretty and most ingenious lady, which pleased me much. Thence home, and found Sir Williams both and much more company gone to the Dolphin to drink the 30s. that we got the other day of Sir W. Penn about his tankard. Here was Sir R. Slingsby, Holmes, Captn. Allen, Mr. Turner, his wife and daughter, my Lady Batten, and Mrs. Martha, etc., and an excellent company of fiddlers; so we exceeding merry till late; and then we begun to tell Sir W. Penn the business, but he had been drinking today, and so is almost gone, that we could not make him understand it, which caused us more sport. But so much the better, for I believe when he do come to understand it he will be angry, he has so talked of the business himself and the letter up and down that he will be ashamed to be found abused in it. So home and to bed.
. At the office all the morn, dined at home; then my wife into Wood Street to buy a chest, and thence to buy other things at my uncle Fenner’s (though by reason of rain we had ill walking), thence to my brother Tom’s, and there discoursed with him about business, and so to the Wardrobe to see my Lady, and after supper with the young ladies, bought a link and carried it myself till I met one that would light me home for the link. So he light me home with his own, and then I did give him mine. This night I found Mary, my cousin W. Joyce’s maid, come to me to be my cook-maid, and so my house is full again. So to bed.
. Early to my cousin Thomas Trice to discourse about our affairs, and he did make demand of the £200 and the interest thereof. But for the £200 I did agree to pay him, but for the other I did desire to be advised. So from him to Dr. Williams,1179 who did carry me into his garden, where he hath abundance of grapes; and did show me how a dog that he hath do kill all the cats that come thither to kill his pigeons, and do afterwards bury them; and do it with so much care that they shall be quite covered; that if but the tip of the tail hangs out he will take up the cat again, and dig the hole deeper. Which is very strange; and he tells me that he do believe that he hath killed above 100 cats. After he was ready we went up and down to inquire about my affairs and then parted, and to the Wardrobe, and there took Mr. Moore to Tom Trice, who promised to let Mr. Moore have copies of the bond and my aunt’s deed of gift, and so I took him home to my house to dinner, where I found my wife’s brother, Balty, as fine as hands could make him, and his servant, a Frenchman, to wait on him, and come to have my wife to visit a young lady which he is a servant to, and have hope to trepan and get for his wife. I did give way for my wife to go with him, and so after dinner they went, and Mr. Moore and I out again, he about his business and I to Dr. Williams: to talk with him again, and he and I walking through Lincoln’s Fields observed at the Opera a new play, Twelfth Night1180 was acted there, and the King there; so I, against my own mind and resolution, could not forbear to go in, which did make the play seem a burden to me, and I took no pleasure at all in it; and so after it was done went home with my mind troubled for my going thither, after my swearing to my wife that I would never go to a play without her. So that what with this and things going so cross to me as to matters of my uncle’s estate, makes me very much troubled in my mind, and so to bed. My wife was with her brother to see his mistress today, and says she is young, rich, and handsome, but not likely for him to get.
. Though it was an office day, yet I was forced to go to the Privy Seal, at which I was all the morning, and from thence to my Lady’s to dinner at the Wardrobe; and in my way upon the Thames, I saw the King’s new pleasure-boat that is come now for the King to take pleasure in above bridge; and also two Gundaloes1181 that are lately brought, which are very rich and fine. After dinner I went into my Lady’s chamber where I found her up now out of her childbed, which I was glad to see, and after an hour’s talk with her I took leave and to Tom Trice again, and sat talking and drinking with him about our business a great while. I do find I am likely to be forced to pay interest for the £200. By and by in comes my uncle Thomas, and as he was always a close cunning fellow, so he carries himself to me, and says nothing of what his endeavours are, though to my trouble I know that he is about recovering of Gravely, but neither I nor he began any discourse of the business. From thence to Dr. Williams (at the little blind alehouse in Shoe Lane, at the Gridiron, a place I am ashamed to be seen to go into), and there with some bland counsel of his we discuss our matters, but I find men of so different minds that by my troth I know not what to trust to. It being late I took leave, and by link home and called at Sir W. Batten’s, and there hear that Sir W. Penn do take our jest of the tankard very ill, which I am sorry for.
. This morning I was sent for by my uncle Fenner to come and advise about the buriall of my aunt, the butcher, who died yesterday; and from thence to the Anchor, by Doctor’s Commons, and there Dr. Williams and I did write a letter for my purpose to Mr. Sedgewick, of Cambridge, about Gravely business, and after that I left him and an attorney with him and went to the Wardrobe, where I found my wife, and thence she and I to the water to spend the afternoon in pleasure; and so we went to old George’s, and there eat as much as we would of a hot shoulder of mutton, and so to boat again and home. So to bed, my mind very full of business and trouble.
. At the office all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and then home again. To dinner, where my uncle Fenner by appointment came and dined with me, thinking to go together to my aunt Kite’s that is dead; but before we had dined comes Sir R. Slingsby and his lady, and a great deal of company, to take my wife and I out by barge to show them the King’s and Duke’s yachts. So I was forced to leave my uncle and brother Tom at dinner and go forth with them, and we had great pleasure, seeing all four yachts, viz., these two and the two Dutch ones. And so home again, and after writing letters by post, to bed.
. To my aunt Kite’s in the morning to help my uncle Fenner to put things in order against anon for the buriall, and at noon home again; and after dinner to church, my wife and I, and after sermon with my wife to the buriall of my aunt Kite, where besides us and my uncle Fenner’s family, there was none of any quality, but poor rascally people. So we went to church with the corpse, and there had service read at the grave, and back again with Pegg Kite who will be, I doubt, a troublesome carrion to us executors; but if she will not be ruled, I shall fling up my executorship. After that home, and Will Joyce along with me where we sat and talked and drank and ate an hour or two, and so he went away and I up to my chamber and then to prayers and to bed.
. This morning I was busy at home to take in my part of our freight of Coals, which Sir G. Carteret, Sir R. Slingsby, and myself sent for, which is 10 Chaldron, 8 of which I took in, and with the other to repay Sir W. Penn what I borrowed of him a little while ago. So that from this day I should see how long 10 chaldron of coals will serve my house, if it please the Lord to let me live to see them burned. In the afternoon by appointment to meet Dr. Williams and his attorney, and they and I to Tom Trice, and there got him in discourse to confess the words that he had said that his mother did desire him not to see my uncle about her £200 bond while she was alive. Here we were at high words with T. Trice and then parted, and we to Standing’s, in Fleet Street, where we sat and drank and talked a great while about my going down to Gravely Court,1182 which will be this week, whereof the Doctor had notice in a letter from his sister this week. In the middle of our discourse word was brought me from my brother’s that there is a fellow come from my father out of the country, on purpose to speak to me, so I went to him and he made a story how he had lost his letter, but he was sure it was for me to go into the country, which I believed, and thought it might be to give me notice of Gravely Court, but I afterwards found that it was a rogue that did use to play such tricks to get money of people, but he got none of me. At night I went home, and there found letters from my father informing me of the Court, and that I must come down and meet him at Impington, which I presently resolved to do,
. And the next morning got up, telling my wife of my journey, and she with a few words got me to hire her a horse to go along with me. So I went to my Lady’s and elsewhere to take leave, and of Mr. Townsend did borrow a very fine sidesaddle for my wife; and so after all things were ready, she and I took coach to the end of the town towards Kingsland, and there got upon my horse and she upon her pretty mare that I hired for her, and she rides very well. By the mare at one time falling she got a fall, but no harm; so we got to Ware, and there supped, and to bed very merry and pleasant.
. The next morning up early and begun our march; the way about Puckeridge1183 very bad, and my wife, in the very last dirty place of all, got a fall, but no hurt, though some dirt. At last she begun, poor wretch, to be tired, and I to be angry at it, but I was to blame; for she is a very good companion as long as she is well. In the afternoon we got to Cambridge, where I left my wife at my cousin Angier’s while I went to Christ’s College, and there found my brother in his chamber, and talked with him; and so to the barber’s, and then to my wife again, and remounted for Impington, where my uncle received me and my wife very kindly. And by and by in comes my father, and we supped and talked and were merry, but being weary and sleepy my wife and I to bed without talking with my father anything about our business.
. Up early, and my father and I alone into the garden, and there talked about our business, and what to do therein. So after I had talked and advised with my coz Claxton, and then with my uncle by his bedside, we all horsed away to Cambridge, where my father and I, having left my wife at the Beare with my brother, went to Mr. Sedgewicke, the steward of Gravely, and there talked with him, but could get little hopes from anything that he would tell us; but at last I did give him a fee, and then he was free to tell me what I asked, which was something, though not much comfort. From thence to our horses, and with my wife went and rode through Sturbridge1184 but the fair was almost done. So we did not ’light there at all, but went back to Cambridge, and there at the Beare we had some herrings, we and my brother, and after dinner set out for Brampton, where we come in very good time, and found all things well, and being somewhat weary, after some talk about tomorrow’s business with my father, we went to bed.
. Will Stankes and I set out in the morning betimes for Gravely, where to an alehouse and drank, and then, going towards the Court House, met my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas, with Bradly, the rogue that had betrayed us, and one Young, a cunning fellow, who guides them. There passed no unkind words at all between us, but I seemed fair and went to drink with them. I said little till by and by that we come to the Court, which was a simple meeting of a company of country rogues, with the Steward, and two Fellows of Jesus College, that are lords of the town where the jury were sworn; and I producing no surrender, though I told them I was sure there is and must be one somewhere, they found my uncle Thomas heir at law,1185 as he is, and so, though I did tell him and his son that they would find themselves abused by these fellows, and did advise them to forbear being admitted this Court (which they could have done, but that these rogues did persuade them to do it now), my uncle was admitted, and his son also, in reversion after his father, which he did well in to secure his money. The father paid a year and a half for his fine, and the son half a year, in all £48, besides about £3 fees; so that I do believe the charges of his journeys, and what he gives those two rogues, and other expenses herein, cannot be less than £70, which will be a sad thing for them if a surrender be found. After all was done, I openly wished them joy in it, and so rode to Offord with them and there parted fairly without any words. I took occasion to bid them money for their half acre of land, which I had a mind to do that in the surrender I might secure Piggott’s, which otherwise I should be forced to lose. So with Stankes home and supped, and after telling my father how things went, I went to bed with my mind in good temper, because I see the matter and manner of the Court and the bottom of my business, wherein I was before and should always have been ignorant.
. All the morning pleasing myself with my father, going up and down the house and garden with my father and my wife, contriving some alterations. After dinner (there coming this morning my aunt Hanes and her son from London, that is to live with my father) I rode to Huntingdon, where I met Mr. Philips, and there put my Bugden1186 matter in order against the Court, and so to Hinchingbroke, where Mr. Barnwell showed me the condition of the house, which is yet very backward, and I fear will be very dark in the cloister when it is done. So home and to supper and to bed, very pleasant and quiet.
. Before church time walking with my father in the garden contriving. So to church, where we had common prayer, and a dull sermon by one Mr. Case,1187 who yet I heard sing very well. So to dinner, and busy with my father about his accounts all the afternoon, and people came to speak with us about business. Mr. Barnwell at night came and supped with us. So after setting matters even with my father and I, to bed.
. Up, and sad to hear my father and mother wrangle as they used to do in London, of which I took notice to both, and told them that I should give over care for anything unless they would spend what they have with more love and quiet. So (John Bowles coming to see us before we go) we took horse and got early to Baldwick,1188 where there was a fair, and we put in and eat a mouthful of pork, which they made us pay 14d. for, which vexed us much. And so away to Stevenage, and stayed till a shower was over, and so rode easily to Welling, where we supped well, and had two beds in the room and so lay single, and still remember it that of all the nights that ever I slept in my life I never did pass a night with more epicurism of sleep; there being now and then a noise of people stirring that waked me, and then it was a very rainy night, and then I was a little weary, that what between waking and then sleeping again, one after another, I never had so much content in all my life, and so my wife says it was with her.
. We rose, and set forth, but found a most sad alteration in the road by reason of last night’s rains, they being now all dirty and washy, though not deep. So we rode easily through, and only drinking at Holloway, at the sign of a woman with cakes in one hand and a pot of ale in the other,1189 which did give good occasion of mirth, resembling her to the maid that served us, we got home very timely and well, and finding there all well, and letters from sea, that speak of my Lord’s being well, and his action, though not considerable of any side, at Argier.1190 I went straight to my Lady, and there sat and talked with her, and so home again, and after supper we to bed somewhat weary, hearing of nothing ill since my absence but my brother Tom, who is pretty well though again.
. By coach with Sir W. Penn to Covent Garden. By the way, upon my desire, he told me that I need not fear any reflection upon my Lord for their ill success at Argier, for more could not be done than was done. I went to my cousin, Thos. Pepys, there, and talked with him a good while about our country business, who is troubled at my uncle Thomas his folly, and so we parted; and then meeting Sir R. Slingsby in St. Martin’s Lane, he and I in his coach through the Mewes,1191 which is the way that now all coaches are forced to go, because of a stop at Charing Cross, by reason of a drain there to clear the streets. To Whitehall, and there to Mr. Coventry, and talked with him, and thence to my Lord Crew’s and dined with him, where I was used with all imaginable kindness both from him and her. And I see that he is afraid that my Lord’s reputacon will a little suffer in common talk by this late success; but there is no help for it now. The Queen of England (as she is now owned and called) I hear doth keep open Court, and distinct at Lisbon. Hence, much against my nature and will, yet such is the power of the Devil over me I could not refuse it, to the Theatre, and saw The Merry Wives of Windsor, ill done. And that ended, with Sir W. Penn and Sir G. More to the tavern, and so home with him by coach, and after supper to prayers and to bed. In full quiet of mind as to thought, though full of business, blessed be God.
. At the office all the morning, so dined at home, and then abroad with my wife by coach to the Theatre to show her King and No King,1192 it being very well done. And so by coach, though hard to get it, being rainy, home. So to my chamber to write letters and the journal for these six last days past.
. By coach to Whitehall with my wife (where she went to see Mrs. Pierce, who was this day churched, her month of childbed being out). I went to Mrs. Montagu and other businesses, and at noon met my wife at the Wardrobe; and there dined, where we found Captain Country1193 (my little Captain that I loved, who carried me to the Sound), come with some grapes and melons1194 from my Lord at Lisbon, the first that ever I saw any, and my wife and I eat some, and took some home; but the grapes are rare things. Here we stayed; and in the afternoon comes Mr. Edwd. Montagu (by appointment this morning) to talk with my Lady and me about the provisions fit to be bought, and sent to my Lord along with him. And told us, that we need not trouble ourselves how to buy them, for the King would pay for all, and that he would take care to get them: which put my Lady and me into a great deal of ease of mind. Here we stayed and supped too, and, after my wife had put up some of the grapes in a basket for to be sent to the King, we took coach and home, where we found a hamper of melons sent to me also.
. At the office in the morning, dined at home, and then Sir W. Penn and his daughter and I and my wife to the Theatre, and there saw Father’s Own Son,1195 a very good play, and the first time I ever saw it, and so at night to my house, and there sat and talked and drank and merrily broke up, and to bed.
. To church in the morning, and so to dinner, and Sir W. Penn and daughter, and Mrs. Poole, his kinswoman, Captain Poole’s wife, came by appointment to dinner with us, and a good dinner we had for them, and were very merry, and so to church again, and then to Sir W. Penn’s and there supped, where his brother,1196 a traveller, and one that speaks Spanish very well, and a merry man, supped with us, and what at dinner and supper I drink I know not how, of my own accord, so much wine, that I was even almost foxed, and my head ached all night; so home and to bed, without prayers, which I never did yet, since I came to the house, of a Sunday night: I being now so out of order that I durst not read prayers, for fear of being perceived by my servants in what case I was. So to bed.
. This morning up by moonshine, at 5 o’clock, to Whitehall, to meet Mr. Moore at the Privy Seal, but he not being come as appointed, I went into King Street to the Red Lion1197 to drink my morning draught, and there I heard of a fray between the two Embassadors of Spain1198 and France;1199 and that, this day, being the day of the entrance of an Embassador from Sweden,1200 they intended to fight for the precedence.1201 Our King, I heard, ordered that no Englishman should meddle in the business,1202 but let them do what they would. And to that end all the soldiers in the town were in arms all the day long, and some of the train-bands in the City; and a great bustle through the City all the day. Then I to the Privy Seal, and there Mr. Moore and a gentleman being come with him, we took coach (which was the business I come for) to Chelsy, to my Lord Privy Seal, and there got him to seal the business. Here I saw by daylight two very fine pictures in the gallery, that a little while ago I saw by night; and did also go all over the house, and found it to be the prettiest contrived house that ever I saw in my life. So to coach back again; and at Whitehall ’light, and saw the soldiers and people running up and down the streets. So I went to the Spanish Embassador’s and the French, and there saw great preparations on both sides; but the French made the most noise and vaunted most, the other made no stir almost at all; so that I was afraid the other would have had too great a conquest over them. Then to the Wardrobe, and dined there, and then abroad and in Cheapside hear that the Spanish hath got the best of it, and killed three of the French coach-horses and several men, and is gone through the City next to our King’s coach; at which, it is strange to see how all the City did rejoice. And indeed we do naturally all love the Spanish, and hate the French. But I, as I am in all things curious, presently got to the waterside, and there took oars to Westminster Palace, thinking to have seen them come in thither with all the coaches, but they being come and returned, I ran after them with my boy after me through all the dirt and the streets full of people; till at last, at the Mewes, I saw the Spanish coach go, with fifty drawn swords at least to guard it, and our soldiers shouting for joy. And so I followed the coach, and then met it at York House,1203 where the embassador lies; and there it went in with great state. So then I went to the French house, where I observe still, that there is no men in the world of a more insolent spirit where they do well, nor before they begin a matter, and more abject if they do miscarry, than these people are; for they all look like dead men, and not a word among them, but shake their heads. The truth is, the Spaniards were not only observed to fight most desperately, but also they did outwit them; first in lining their own harness with chains of iron that they could not be cut, then in setting their coach in the most advantageous place, and to appoint men to guard every one of their horses, and others for to guard the coach, and others the coachmen. And, above all, in setting upon the French horses and killing them, for by that means the French were not able to stir. There were several men slain of the French, and one or two of the Spaniards, and one Englishman by a bullet.1204 Which is very observable, the French were at least four to one in number,1205 and had near 100 case of pistols among them, and the Spaniards had not one gun among them; which is for their honour forever, and the others’ disgrace. So, having been very much daubed with dirt, I got a coach, and home where I vexed my wife in telling of her this story, and pleading for the Spaniards against the French. So ends this month; myself and family in good condition of health, but my head full of my Lord’s and my own and the office business; where we are now very busy about the business of sending forces to Tangier,1206 and the fleet to my Lord of Sandwich, who is now at Lisbon to bring over the Queen, who do now keep a Court as Queen of England. The business of Argier hath of late troubled me, because my Lord hath not done what he went for, though he did as much as any man in the world could have done. The want of money puts all things, and above all things the Navy, out of order; and yet I do not see that the King takes care to bring in any money, but thinks of new designs to lay out money.
October 1661
. This morning my wife and I lay long in bed, and among other things fell into talk of music, and desired that I would let her learn to sing, which I did consider, and promised her she should. So before I rose, word was brought me that my singing master, Mr. Goodgroome, was come to teach me and so she rose and this morning began to learn also. To the office, where busy all day. So to dinner and then to the office again till night, and then to my study at home to set matters and papers in order, which, though I can hardly bring myself to do, yet do please me much when it is done. So eat a bit of bread and cheese, and to bed.
. All this morning at Pegg Kite’s with my uncle Fenner, and two friends of his, appraising her goods that her mother has left; but the slut is like to prove so troublesome that I am out of heart with troubling myself in her business. After we had done we all went to a cook’s shop in Bishopsgate Street and dined, and then I took them to the tavern and did give them a quart of sack, and so parted. I home and then took my wife out, and in a coach of a gentlewoman’s that had been to visit my Lady Batten and was going home again our way, we went to the Theatre, but coming late, and sitting in an ill place, I never had so little pleasure in a play in my life, yet it was the first time that ever I saw it, Victoria Corombona.1207 Methinks a very poor play. Then at night troubled to get my wife home, it being very dark, and so we were forced to have a coach. So to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning; dined at home, and in the afternoon Mr. Moore came to me, and he and I went to Tower Hill to meet with a man, and so back all three to my house, and there I signed a bond to Mr. Battersby, a friend of Mr. Moore’s, who lends me £50, the first money that ever I borrowed upon bond for my own occasion, and so I took them to the Mitre and a Portugal melon with me; there sat and discoursed in matters of religion till night with great pleasure, and so parted, and I home, calling at Sir W. Batten’s, where his son and his wife were, who had yesterday been at the play where we were, and it was good sport to hear how she talked of it with admiration like a fool. So home, and my head was not well with the wine that I drank today.
. By coach to Whitehall with Sir W. Penn. So to Mr. Montagu, where his man, Mons. Eschar, makes a great complaint against the English, that they did help the Spaniards against the French the other day; and that their Embassador do demand justice of our King,1208 and that he do resolve to be gone for France the next week; which I, and all that I met with, are very glad of. Thence to Paternoster Row, where my Will did receive the £50 I borrowed yesterday. I to the Wardrobe to dinner, and there stayed most of the afternoon very merry with the ladies. Then Captain Ferrers and I to the Theatre, and there came too late, so we stayed and saw a bit of Victoria, which pleased me worse than it did the other day. So we stayed not to see it out, but went out and drank a bottle or two of China ale, and so home, where I found my wife vexed at her people for grumbling to eat Suffolk cheese,1209 which I also am vexed at. So to bed.
. At the office all the morning, then dined at home, and so stayed at home all the afternoon putting up my Lord’s model of the Royal James, which I borrowed of him long ago to hang up in my room. And at night Sir W. Penn and I alone to the Dolphin, and there eat some bloat-herrings1210 and drank good sack. Then came in Sir W. Warren and another and stayed a while with us, and then Sir Arnold Brames, with whom we stayed late and till we had drank too much wine. So home and I to bed pleased at my afternoon’s work in hanging up the ship. So to bed.
. To church in the morning; Mr. Mills preached, who, I expect, should take in snuffe1211 that my wife not come to his child’s christening the other day. The winter coming on, many of parish ladies are come home and appear at church again; among others, the three sisters the Thornbury’s,1212 a very fine, and the most zealous people that ever I saw in my life, even to admiration, if it were true zeal. There was also my pretty black girl, Mrs. Dekins,1213 and Mrs. Margaret Penn, this day come to church in a new flowered satin suit that my wife helped to buy her the other day. So me to dinner, and to church in the afternoon to St. Gregory’s,1214 by Paul’s, where I saw Mr. Moore in the gallery and went up to him and heard a good sermon of Dr. Buck’s,1215 one I never heard before, a very able man. So home, and in the evening I went to my Valentine, her father and mother being out of town, to fetch her to supper to my house, and then came Sir W. Penn and would have her to his, so with much sport I got them all to mine, and we were merry, and so broke up and to bed.
. Up in the morning and to my uncle Fenner’s, thinking to have met Peg Kite about her business but she comes not, so I went to Dr. Williams, where I found him sick in bed and was sorry for it. So about business all day, troubled in my mind till I can hear from Brampton, how things go on at Sturtlow, at the Court, which I was cleared in at night by a letter, which tells me that my cousin Tom was there to be admitted, in his father’s name, as heir-at-law, but that he was opposed, and I was admitted by proxy, which put me out of great trouble of mind.
. At the office all the morning. After office done, went and eat some Colchester oysters with Sir W. Batten at his house, and there, with some company; dined and stayed there talking all the afternoon; and late after dinner took Mrs. Martha out by coach, and carried her to the Theatre in a frolic, to my great expense, and there showed her part of the Beggar’s Bush, without much pleasure, but only for a frolic, and so home again.
. This morning went out about my affairs, among others to put my Theorbo out to be mended, and then at noon home again, thinking to go with Sir Williams both to dinner by invitation to Sir W. Rider’s,1216 but at home I found Mrs. Pierce, la belle, and Madam Clifford, with whom I was forced to stay, and made them the most welcome I could; and I was (God knows) very well pleased with their beautiful company, and after dinner took them to the Theatre, and showed them The Chances; and so saw them both at home and back to the Fleece tavern, in Covent Garden, where Luellin and Blurton, and my old friend Frank Bagge, was to meet me, and there stayed till late very merry. Frank Bagge tells me a story of Mrs. Pepys that lived with my Lady Harvy,1217 Mr. Montagu’s sister, a good woman; that she had been very ill, and often asked for me; that she is in good condition, and that nobody could get her to make her will; but that she did still enquire for me, and that now she is well she desires to have a chamber at my house. Now I do not know whether this is a trick of Bagge’s, or a good will of hers to do something for me; but I will not trust her, but told him I should be glad to see her, and that I would be sure to do all that I could to provide a place for her. So by coach home late.
. At the office all the morning; dined at home, and after dinner Sir W. Penn and my wife and I to the Theatre (she first going into Covent Garden to speak a word with a woman to enquire of her mother, and I in the meantime with Sir W. Penn’s coach staying at W. Joyce’s), where the King came today, and there was The Traitor1218 most admirably acted; and a most excellent play it is. So home, and intended to be merry, it being my sixth wedding night; but by a late bruise. … I am in so much pain that I eat my supper and in pain to bed, yet my wife and I pretty merry.
. All day in bed with a cataplasm … and at night rose a little, and to bed again in more ease than last night. This noon there came my brother and Dr. Tom and Snow to dinner, and by themselves were merry.
. In bed the greatest part of this day also, and my swelling in some measure gone. I received a letter this day from my father, that Sir R. Bernard do a little fear that my uncle has not observed exactly the custom of Brampton in his will about his lands there, which puts me to a great trouble in mind, and at night wrote to him and to my father about it, being much troubled at it.
. Did not stir out all day, but rose and dined below, and this day left off half skirts and put on a waistcoat, and my false taby waistcoat with gold lace; and in the evening there came Sir W. Batten to see me, and sat and supped very kindly with me, and so to prayers and to bed.
. This morning I ventured by water abroad to Westminster, but lost my labour, for Mr. Montagu was not in town. So to the Wardrobe, and there dined with my Lady, which is the first time I have seen her dine abroad since her being brought to bed of my Lady Katherine. In the afternoon Captain Ferrers and I walked abroad to several places, among others to Mr. Pim’s, my Lord’s Taylour’s, and there he went out with us to the Fountain tavern and did give us store of wine, and it being the Duke of York’s birthday, we drank the more to his health. But, Lord! what a sad story he makes of his being abused by a Dr. of Physic who is in one part of the tenement wherein he dwells. It would make one laugh, though I see he is under a great trouble in it. Thence home by link and found a good answer from my father that Sir R. Bernard do clear all things as to us and our title to Brampton, which puts my heart in great ease and quiet.
. At the office all the morning, and in the afternoon to Paul’s Churchyard to a blind place, where Mrs. Goldsborough was to meet me (who dare not be known where she lives) to treat about the difference which remains between my uncle and her. But, Lord! to hear how she talks and how she rails against my uncle would make one mad. But I seemed not to be troubled at it, but would indeed gladly have an agreement with her. So I appoint Mr. Moore and she another against Friday next to look into our papers and to see what can be done to conclude the matter. So home in much pain by walking too much yesterday … which much troubles me.
. In bed till 12 o’clock. This morning came several maids to my wife to be hired, and at last she pitched upon one Nell, whose mother, an old woman, came along with her, but would not be hired under half a year, which I am pleased at their drollness. This day dined by appointment with me, Dr. Thos. Pepys and my Coz: Snow, and my brother Tom, upon a fin of ling and some sounds, neither of which did I ever know before, but most excellent meat they are both, that in all my life I never eat the like fish. So after dinner came in W. Joyce and eat and drank and were merry. So up to my chamber, and put all my papers, at rights, and in the evening our maid Mary (who was with us upon trial for a month) did take leave of us, going as we suppose to be married, for the maid liked us and we her, but all she said was that she had a mind to live in a tradesman’s house where there was but one maid. So to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, at noon my wife being gone to my coz Snow’s with Dr. Thomas Pepys and my brother Tom to a venison pasty (which proved a pasty of salted pork); by appointment I went with Captain David Lambert to the Exchequer, and from thence by appointment he and I were to meet at a cook’s shop to dine. But before I went to him Captain Cock,1219 a merchant I had not long known, took me to the Sun Tavern and gave me a glass of sack, and being a man of great observation and repute, did tell me that he was confident that the Parliament, when it comes the next month to sit again, would bring trouble with it, and enquire how the King had disposed of offices and money, before they will raise more; which, I fear, will bring all things to ruin again. Thence to the Cook’s and there dined with Captain Lambert and his father-in-law, and had much talk of Portugal; from whence he is lately come, and he tells me it is a very poor dirty place; I mean the City and Court of Lisbon; that the King1220 is a very rude and simple fellow; and, for reviling of somebody a little while ago, and calling of him cuckold, was run into … with a sword and had been killed, had he not told them that he was their king. That there are there no glass windows, nor will they have any; which makes sport among our merchants there to talk of an English factor that, being newly come thither, writ into England that glass would be a good commodity to send thither, etc. That the King has his meat sent up by a dozen of lazy guards and in pipkins, sometimes, to his own table; and sometimes nothing but fruits, and, now and then, half a hen. And now that the Infanta is become our Queen, she is come to have a whole hen or goose to her table, which is not ordinary. So home and to look over my papers that concern the difference between Mrs. Goldsborough and us; which cost me much pains, but contented me much after it was done. So at home all the evening and to supper and to bed.
. To Whitehall, to Mr. Montagu’s, where I met with Mr. Pierce, the purser, to advise about the things to be sent to my Lord for the Queen’s provision, and was cleared in it, and now there is all haste made, for the fleet’s going. At noon to my Lord’s to dinner, and in the afternoon, leaving my wife there, Mr. Moore and I to Mrs. Goldsborough, who sent for a friend to meet with us, and so we were talking about the difference between us till 10 at night. I find it very troublesome, and have brought it into some hopes of an agreement, I offering to forgive her £10 that is yet due according to my uncle’s accounts to us. So we left her friend to advise about it, and I hope to hear of her, for I would not by any means go to law with a woman of so devilish a tongue as she has. So to my Lady’s, where I left my wife to lie with Mademoiselle all night, and I by link home and to bed. This night lying alone, and the weather cold, and having this last 7 or 8 days been troubled with a tumor … which is now abated by a poultice of a good handful of bran with half a pint of vinegar and a pint of water boiled till it be thick, and then a spoonful of honey put to it and so spread in a cloth and laid to it, I first put on my waistcoat to lie in all night this year, and do not intend to put it off again till spring. I met with complaints at home that my wife left no victuals for them all this day.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon Mr. Coventry, who sat with us all the morning, and Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Penn, and myself, by coach to Captain Marshe’s, at Limehouse, to a house that hath been their ancestors for this 250 years, close by the lime-house1221 which gives the name to the place. Here they have a design to get the King to hire a dock for the herring busses,1222 which is now the great design on foot, to lie up in. We had a very good and handsome dinner, and excellent wine. I not being neat in clothes, which I find a great fault in me, could not be so merry as otherwise, and at all times I am and can be, when I am in good habit, which makes me remember my father Osborne’s1223 rule for a gentleman to spare in all things rather than in that. So by coach home, and so to write letters by post, and so to bed.
. At home in bed all the morning to ease my late tumour, but up to dinner and much offended in mind at a proud trick my man Will hath got, to keep his hat on in the house, but I will not speak of it to him today; but I fear I shall be troubled with his pride and laziness, though in other things he is good enough. To church in the afternoon, where a sleepy Presbyter preached, and then to Sir W. Batten who is to go to Portsmouth tomorrow to wait upon the Duke of York, who goes to take possession and to set in order the garrison there. Supped at home and to bed.
. Early with Mr. Moore by coach to Chelsy, to my Lord Privy Seal’s, but have missed of coming time enough; and having taken up Mr. Pargiter, the goldsmith (who is the man of the world that I do most know and believe to be a cheating rogue), we drank our morning draught there together of cake and ale, and did make good sport of his losing so much by the King’s coming in, he having bought much of Crown lands, of which, God forgive me! I am very glad. At Whitehall, at the Privy Seal, did with Sir W. Penn take advice about passing of things of his there that concern his matters of Ireland. Thence to the Wardrobe and dined, and so against my judgment and conscience (which God forgive, for my very heart knows that I offend God in breaking my vows herein) to the Opera, which is now newly begun to act again, after some alteration of their scene, which do make it very much worse; but the play, Love and Honour,1224 being the first time of their acting it, is a very good plot, and well done. So on foot home, and after a little business done in my study and supper, to bed.
. At the office all the morning, where we had a deputation from the Duke in his absence, he being gone to Portsmouth, for us to have the whole disposal and ordering of the Fleet. In the afternoon about business up and down, and at night to visit Sir R. Slingsby, who is fallen sick of this new disease,1225 an ague and fever. So home after visiting my aunt Wight and Mrs. Norbury (who continues still a very pleasant lady), and to supper, and so to bed.
. To Whitehall, and there, to drink our morning, Sir W. Penn and I to a friend’s lodging of his (Col. Pr. Swell), and at noon he and I dined together alone at the Leg in King Street, and so by coach to Chelsy to my Lord Privy Seal’s about business of Sir William’s, in which we had a fair admittance to talk with my Lord, and had his answer, and so back to the Opera, and there I saw again Love and Honour, and a very good play it is. And thence home, calling by the way to see Sir Robert Slingsby, who continues ill, and so home. This day all our office is invited against Tuesday next, my Lord Mayor’s day, to dinner with him at Guildhall. This evening Mr. Holliard came and sat with us, and gave us both directions to observe.
. At the office all morning, at noon Luellin dined with me, and then abroad to Fleet Street, leaving my wife at Tom’s while I went out and did a little business. So home again, and went to see Sir Robert [Slingsby], who continues ill, and this day has not spoke at all, which makes them all afeard of him. So home.
. To Whitehall, and so to dinner at the Wardrobe, where my wife met me, and there we met with a venison pasty, and my Lady very merry and very handsome, methought. After dinner my wife and I to the Opera, and there saw again Love and Honour, a play so good that it has been acted but three times and I have seen them all, and all in this week; which is too much, and more than I will do again a good while. Coming out of the house we met Mrs. Pierce and her comrade Mrs. Clifford, and I seeming willing to stay with them to talk my wife grew angry, and whether she be jealous or no I know, not, but she loves not that I should speak of Mrs. Pierce. Home on foot very discontented, in my way I calling at the Instrument maker, Hunt’s, and there saw my lute, which is now almost done, it being to have a new neck to it and to be made to double strings. So home and to bed. This day I did give my man Will a sound lesson about his forbearing to give us the respect due to a master and mistress.
. This morning Sir W. Penn and I should have gone out of town with my Lady Batten, to have met Sir William coming back from Portsmouth; at Kingston, but could not, by reason that my Lord of Peterborough1226 (who is to go Governor of Tangier)1227 came this morning, with Sir G. Carteret, to advise with us about completing of the affairs and preparacions for that place. So at the office all the morning, and in the afternoon Sir W. Penn, my wife and I to the Theatre, and there saw The Country Captain,1228 the first time it hath been acted this twenty-five years, a play of my Lord Newcastle’s, but so silly a play as in all my life I never saw, and the first that ever I was weary of in my life. So home again, and in the evening news was brought that Sir R. Slingsby, our Comptroller (who hath this day been sick a week), is dead; which put me into so great a trouble of mind, that all the night I could not sleep, he being a man that loved me, and had many qualities that made me to love him above all the officers and commissioners in the Navy. Coming home we called at Dan Rawlinson’s,1229 and there drank good sack, and so home.
. At church in the morning; where in the pew both Sir Williams and I had much talk about the death of Sir Robert, which troubles me much; and them in appearance, though I do not believe it; because I know that he was a cheque to their engrossing the whole trade of the Navy office. Home to dinner, and in the afternoon to church again, my wife with me, whose mourning is now grown so old that I am ashamed to go to church with her. And after church to see my uncle and aunt Wight, and there stayed and talked and supped with them, and were merry as we could be in their company. Among other things going up into their chamber to see their two pictures, which I am forced to commend against my judgment, and also she showed us her cabinet, where she had very pretty medals and good jewels. So home and to prayers and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and dined at home, and so to Paul’s Churchyard to Hunt’s,1230 and there found my Theorbo done, which pleases me very well, and costs me 26s. to the altering. But now he tells me it is as good a lute as any is in England, and is worth well £10. Hither I sent for Captain Ferrers to me, who comes with a friend of his, and they and I to the Theatre, and there saw Argalus and Parthenia,1231 where a woman acted Parthenia, and came afterwards on the stage in men’s clothes, and had the best legs that ever I saw, and I was very well pleased with it. Thence to the Ringo alehouse, and thither sent for a belt-maker, and bought of him a handsome belt for second mourning, which cost me 24s., and is very neat.
. This day I put on my half cloth black stockings and my new coat of the fashion, which pleases me well, and with my beaver1232 I was (after office was done) ready to go to my Lord Mayor’s feast, as we are all invited; but the Sir Williams were both loth to go, because of the crowd, and so none of us went, and I stayed and dined with them, and so home, and in evening, by consent, we met at the Dolphin, where other company came to us, and should have been merry, but their wine was so naught, and all other things out of order, that we were not so, but stayed long at night, and so home and to bed. My mind not pleased with the spending of this day, because I had proposed a great deal of pleasure to myself this day at Guildhall. This Lord Mayor,1233 it seems, brings up again the Custom of Lord Mayors going the day of their installment to Paul’s, and walking round about the Cross, and offering something at the altar.
. All the morning at the office. At noon played on my Theorbo, and much pleased therewith; it is now altered with a new neck. In the afternoon Captain Lambert called me out by appointment, and we walked together to Deptford, and there in his ship, the Norwich, I got him to show me every hole and corner of the ship, much to my information, and the purpose of my going. So home again, and at Sir W. Batten’s heard how he had been already at Sir R. Slingsby’s, as we were all invited, and I intended this night to go, and there he finds all things out of order, and no such thing done tonight, but pretending that the corpse stinks, they will bury it tonight privately, and so will unbespeak all their guests, and there shall be no funerall, which I am sorry for, that there should be nothing done for the honour of Sir Robert, but I fear he hath left his family in great distraction. Here I stayed till late at cards with my Lady and Mrs. Martha, and so home. I sent for a bottle or two of wine thither. At my coming home I am sorry to find my wife displeased with her maid Doll, whose fault is that she cannot keep her peace, but will always be talking in an angry manner, though it be without any reason and to no purpose, which I am sorry for and do see the inconvenience that do attend the increase of a man’s fortune by being forced to keep more servants, which brings trouble. Sir Henry Vane, Lambert, and others, are lately sent suddenly away from the Tower, prisoners to Scilly; but I do not think there is any plot as is said, but only a pretence; as there was once pretended often against the Cavaliers.
. This morning comes Prior of Brampton to me about the house he has to buy of me, but I was forced to be at the office all the morning, and so could not talk with him. And so, after the office was done, and dined at home, I went to my brother Tom’s, and there met him. He demanded some abatement, he having agreed with my father for Barton’s house, at a price which I told him I could not meddle with, but that as for anything to secure his title to them I was ready, and so we parted. Thence to Sir Robert Bernard, and as his client did ask his advice about my uncle Thomas’s case and ours as to Gravely, and in short he tells me that there is little hopes of recovering it or saving his annuity, which do trouble me much, but God’s will be done. Hence, with my mind full of trouble, to my uncle Fenner’s, when at the alehouse I found him drinking and very jolly and youthsome, and as one that I believe will in a little time get a wife. So home.
November 1661
. I went this morning with Sir W. Penn by coach to Westminster, and having done my business at Mr. Montagu’s, I went back to him at Whitehall, and from thence with him to the 3 Tun Tavern, at Charing Cross, and there sent for up the maister of the house’s dinner, and dined very well upon it, and afterwards had him and his fair sister (who is very great with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn in mirth) up to us, and looked over some medals that they showed us of theirs; and so went away to the Theatre, to The Joviall Crew, and from hence home, and at my house we were very merry till late, having sent for his son, Mr. William Penn,1234 lately come from Oxford. And after supper parted, and to bed.
. At the office all the morning; where Sir John Minnes, our new comptroller, was fetched by Sir Wm. Penn and myself from Sir Wm. Batten’s, and led to his place in the office. The first time that he had come hither, and he seems a good fair condition man, and one that I am glad hath the office. After the office done, I to the Wardrobe, and there dined, and in the afternoon had an hour or two’s talk with my Lady with great pleasure. And so with the two young ladies by coach to my house, and gave them some entertainment, and so late at night sent them home with Captain Ferrers by coach. This night my boy Wayneman, as I was in my chamber, I overheard him let off some gunpowder; and hearing my wife chide him below for it, and a noise made, I call him up, and find that it was powder that he had put in his pocket, and a match carelessly with it, thinking that it was out, and so the match did give fire to the powder, and had burnt his side and his hand that he put into his pocket to put out the fire. But upon examination, and finding him in a lie about the time and place that he bought it, I did extremely beat him, and though it did trouble me to do it, yet I thought it necessary to do it. So to write by the post, and to bed.
. This day I stirred not out, but took physic, and it did work very well, and all the day as I was at leisure I did read in Fuller’s Holy War,1235 which I have of late bought, and did try to make a song in the praise of a liberall genius (as I take my own to be) to all studies and pleasures, but it not proving to my mind I did reject it and so proceeded not in it. At night my wife and I had a good supper by ourselves of a pullet hashed, which pleased me much to see my condition come to allow ourselves a dish like that, and so at night to bed.
. In the morning, being very rainy, by coach with Sir W. Penn and my wife to Whitehall, and sent her to Mrs. Hunt’s, and he and I to Mr. Coventry’s about business, and so sent for her again, and all three home again, only I to the Mitre (Mr. Rawlinson’s), where Mr. Pierce, the Purser, had got us a most brave chine of beef, and a dish of marrowbones. Our company my uncle Wight, Captain Lambert, one Captain Davies, and purser Barter, Mr. Rawlinson, and ourselves; and very merry. After dinner I took coach, and called my wife at my brother’s, where I left her, and to the Opera, where we saw The Bondman, which of old we both did so dote on, and do still; though to both our thinking not so well acted here (having too great expectations), as formerly at Salisbury-court. But for Betterton1236 he is called by us both the best actor in the world. So home by coach, I ’lighting by the way at my uncle Wight’s and stayed there a little, and so home after my wife, and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At noon comes my brother Tom and Mr. Armiger to dine with me, and did, and we were very merry. After dinner, I having drunk a great deal of wine, I went away, seeming to go about business with Sir W. Penn, to my Lady Batten’s (Sir William being at Chatham), and there sat a good while, and then went away (before I went I called at home to see whether they were gone, and found them there, and Armiger inviting my wife to go to a play, and like a fool would be courting her, but he is an ass, and lays out money with Tom, otherwise I should not think him worth half this respect I show him). To the Dolphin, where he and I and Captain Cocke sat late and drank much, seeing the boys in the streets flying their crackers, this day being kept all the day very strictly in the City. At last broke up, and called at my Lady Batten’s again and would have gone to cards, but Sir W. Penn was so fuddled that we could not try him to play, and therefore we parted, and I home and to bed.
. Going forth this morning I met Mr. Davenport and a friend of his, one Mr. Furbisher, to drink their morning draught with me, and I did give it them in good wine, and anchovies, and pickled oysters, and took them to the Sun in Fish Street, there did give them a barrel of good ones, and a great deal of wine, and sent for Mr. W. Bernard (Sir Robert’s son), a grocer thereabouts, and were very merry, and cost me a good deal of money, and at noon left them, and with my head full of wine, and being invited by a note from Luellin, that came to my hands this morning in bed, I went to Nick Osborne’s at the Victualling Office, and there saw his wife, who he has lately married, a good sober woman, and new come to their home. We had a good dish or two of marrowbones and another of neat’s tongues to dinner, and that being done I bade them adieu and hastened to Whitehall (calling Mr. Moore by the way) to my Lord Privy Seal, who will at last force the clerks to bring in a table of their fees, which they have so long denied, but I do not join with them, and so he is very respectful to me. So he desires me to bring in one which I observe in making of fees, which I will speedily do. So back again, and endeavoured to speak with Tom Trice (who I fear is hatching some mischief), but could not, which vexed me, and so I went home and sat late with pleasure at my lute, and so to bed.
. This morning came one Mr. Hill (sent by Mr. Hunt, the Instrument maker), to teach me to play on the Theorbo, but I do not like his play nor singing, and so I found a way to put him off. So to the office. And then to dinner, and got Mr. Pett the Commissioner to dinner with me, he and I alone, my wife not being well, and so after dinner parted. And I to Tom Trice, who in short showed me a writ he had ready for my father, and I promised to answer it. So I went to Dr. Williams (who is now pretty well got up after his sickness), and after that to Mr. Moore to advise, and so returned home late on foot, with my mind cleared, though not satisfied. I met with letters at home from my Lord from Lisbone, which speak of his being well; and he tells me he had seen at the court there the day before he wrote this letter, the Juego de Toro.1237 So fitted myself for bed. Coming home I called at my uncle Fenner’s, who tells that Peg Kite now hath declared she will have the beggarly rogue the weaver, and so we are resolved neither to meddle nor make with her.
. This morning up early, and to my Lord Chancellor’s with a letter to him from my Lord, and did speak with him; and he did ask me whether I was son to Mr. Talbot Pepys1238 or no (with whom he was once acquainted in the Court of Requests),1239 and spoke to me with great respect. Thence to Westminster Hall (it being Term time) and there met with Commissioner Pett, and so at noon he and I by appointment to the Sun in New Fish Street, where Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and we all were to dine, at an invitation of Captain Stoaks and Captain Clerk, and were very merry, and by discourse I found Sir J. Minnes a fine gentleman and a very good scholler. After dinner to the Wardrobe, and thence to Dr. Williams, who went with me (the first time that he has been abroad a great while) to the Six Clerks Office to find me a clerk there able to advise me in my business with Tom Trice, and after I had heard them talk, and had given me some comfort, I went to my brother Tom’s, and took him with me to my coz. Turner1240 at the Temple, and had his opinion that I should not pay more than the principal £200, with which I was much pleased, and so home.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Mr. Davenport, Phillips, and Mr. Wm. Bernard and Furbisher, came by appointment and dined with me, and we were very merry. After dinner I to the Wardrobe, and there stayed talking with my Lady all the afternoon till late at night. Among other things my Lady did mightily urge me to lay out money upon my wife, which I perceived was a little more earnest than ordinary, and so I seemed to be pleased with it, and do resolve to bestow a lace upon her, and what with this and other talk, we were exceeding merry. So home at night.
. At our own church in the morning, where Mr. Mills preached. Thence alone to the Wardrobe to dinner with my Lady, where my Lady continues upon yesterday’s discourse still for me to lay out money upon my wife, which I think it is best for me to do for her honour and my own. Last night died Archibald, my Lady’s butler and Mrs. Sarah’s brother, of a dropsy, which I am troubled at. In the afternoon went and sat with Mr. Turner in his pew at St. Gregory’s, where I hear our Queen Katherine, the first time by name as such, publicly prayed for,1241 and heard Dr. Buck1242 upon “Woe unto thee, Corazin,”1243 etc., where he started a difficulty, which he left to another time to answer, about why God should give means of grace to those people which he knew would not receive them, and deny to others which he himself confesses, if they had had them, would have received them, and they would have been effectual too. I would I could hear him explain this, when he do come to it. Thence home to my wife, and took her to my Aunt Wight’s, and there sat a while with her (my uncle being at Katharine hill), and so home, and I to Sir W. Batten’s, where Captain Cock was, and we sent for two bottles of Canary to the Rose, which did do me a great deal of hurt, and did trouble me all night, and, indeed, came home so out of order that I was loth to say prayers tonight as I am used ever to do on Sundays, which my wife took notice of and people of the house, which I was sorry for.
. To the Wardrobe, and with Mr. Townsend and Moore to the Saracen’s Head to a barrel of oysters, and so Mr. Moore and I to Tom Trice’s, with whom I did first set my hand to answer to a writ of his this tearm. Thence to the Wardrobe to dinner, and there by appointment met my wife, who had by my direction brought some laces for my Lady to choose one for her. And after dinner I went away, and left my wife and ladies together, and all their work was about this lace of hers. Captain Ferrers and I went together, and he carried me the first time that ever I saw any gaming house, to one, entering into Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, at the end of Bell Yard, where strange the folly of men to lay and lose so much money, and very glad I was to see the manner of a gamester’s life, which I see is very miserable, and poor, and unmanly. And thence he took me to a dancing school in Fleet Street, where we saw a company of pretty girls dance, but I do not in myself like to have young girls exposed to so much vanity. So to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lady had agreed upon a lace for my wife of £6, which I seemed much glad of that it was no more, though in my mind I think it too much, and I pray God keep me so to order myself and my wife’s expenses that no inconvenience in purse or honour follow this my prodigality. So by coach home.
. At the office all the morning. Dined at home alone. So abroad with Sir W. Penn. My wife and I to Bartholomew Fair, with puppets which I had seen once before, and the play without puppets often, but though I love the play as much as ever I did, yet I do not like the puppets at all, but think it to be a lessening to it. Thence to the Greyhound in Fleet Street, and there drank some raspberry sack and eat some sausages, and so home very merry. This day Holmes come to town; and we do expect hourly to hear what usage he hath from the Duke and the King about this late business of letting the Swedish Embassador1244 go by him without striking his flag.1245
. By appointment, we all went this morning to wait upon the Duke of York, which we did in his chamber, as he was dressing himself in his riding suit to go this day by sea to the Downs. He is in mourning for his wife’s grandmother,1246 which is thought a great piece of fondness.1247 After we had given him our letter relating the bad condition of the Navy for want of money, he referred it to his coming back and so parted, and I to Whitehall and to see la belle Pierce, and so on foot to my Lord Crew’s, where I found him come to his new house, which is next to that he lived in last; here I was well received by my Lord and Sir Thomas, with whom I had great talk: and he tells me in good earnest that he do believe the Parliament (which comes to sit again the next week), will be troublesome to the Court and Clergy, which God forbid! But they see things carried so by my Lord Chancellor and some others, that get money themselves, that they will not endure it. From thence to the Theatre, and there saw Father’s Own Son again, and so it raining very hard I went home by coach, with my mind very heavy for this my expenseful life, which will undo me, I fear, after all my hopes, if I do not take up, for now I am coming to lay out a great deal of money in clothes for my wife, I must forbear other expenses. To bed, and this night began to lie in the little green chamber, where the maids lie, but we could not a great while get Nell to lie there, because I lie there and my wife, but at last, when she saw she must lie there or sit up, she, with much ado, came to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At noon I went by appointment to the Sun in Fish Street to a dinner of young Mr. Bernard’s for myself, Mr. Phillips, Davenport, Weaver, etc., where we had a most excellent dinner, but a pie of such pleasant variety of good things, as in all my life I never tasted. Hither came to me Captain Lambert to take his leave of me, he being this day to set sail for the Straights. We drank his farewell and a health to all our friends, and were very merry, and drank wine enough. Hence to the Temple to Mr. Turner about drawing up my bill in Chancery against T. Trice, and so to Salisbury Court, where Mrs. Turner is come to town tonight, but very ill still of an ague, which I was sorry to see. So to the Wardrobe and talked with my Lady, and so home and to bed.
. At home all the morning, and at noon with my wife to the Wardrobe to dinner, and there, did show herself to my Lady in the handkercher that she bought the lace for the other day, and indeed it is very handsome. Here I left my wife and went to my Lord Privy Seal to Whitehall, and there did give him a copy of the Fees of the office as I have received them, and he was well pleased with it. So to the Opera, where I met my wife and Captain Ferrers and Mademoiselle Le Blanc, and there did see the second part of The Siege of Rhodes very well done; and so by coach set her home, and the coach driving down the hill through Thames Street, which I think never any coach did before from that place to the bridge-foot, but going up Fish Street Hill his horses were so tired, that they could not be got to go up the hill, though all the street boys and men did beat and whip them. At last I was fain to send my boy for a link, and so ’light out of the coach till we got to another at the corner of Fenchurch Street, and so home, and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Dined at home, and so about my business in the afternoon to the Temple, where I found my Chancery bill drawn against T. Trice, which I read and like it, and so home.
. To our own church, and at noon, by invitation, Sir W. Penn dined with me, and I took Mrs. Hester, my Lady Batten’s kinswoman, to dinner from church with me, and we were very merry. So to church again, and heard a simple fellow upon the praise of Church music, and exclaiming against men’s wearing their hats on in the church, but I slept part of the sermon, till latter prayer and blessing and all was done without waking which I never did in my life. So home, and by and by comes my uncle Wight and my aunt and Mr. Norbury and his lady, and we drank hard and were very merry till supper time, and then we parted, my wife and I being invited to Sir W. Penn’s, where we also were very merry, and so home to prayers and to bed.
. By coach with Sir W. Penn; my wife and I toward Westminster, but seeing Mr. Moore in the street I ’light and he and I went to Mr. Battersby’s the minister, in my way I putting in at St. Paul’s, where I saw the quiristers in their surplices going to prayers, and a few idle poor people and boys to hear them, which is the first time I have seen them, and am sorry to see things done so out of order, and there I received £50 more, which make up £100 that I now have borrowed of him, and so I did burn the old bond for £50, and paying him the use of it did make a new bond for the whole £100. Here I dined and had a good dinner, and his wife a good pretty woman. There was a young Parson at the table that had got himself drunk before dinner, which troubled me to see. After dinner to Mr. Bowers at Westminster for my wife, and brought her to the Theatre to see Philaster,1248 which I never saw before, but I found it far short of my expectations. So by coach home.
. At the office all the morning, and coming home found Mr. Hunt with my wife in the chamber alone, which God forgive me did trouble my head, but remembering that it was washing and that there was no place else with a fire for him to be in, it being also cold weather, I was at ease again. He dined with us, and after dinner took coach and carried him with us as far as my cousin Scott’s, where we set him down and parted, and my wife and I stayed there at the christening of my cousin’s boy, where my cousin Samuel Pepys, of Ireland,1249 and I were godfathers, and I did name the child Samuel. There was a company of pretty women there in the chamber, but we stayed not, but went with the minister into another room and eat and drank, and at last, when most of the women were gone, Sam and I went into my cousin Scott, who was got off her bed, and so we stayed and talked and were very merry, my she-cousin, Stradwick, being godmother. And then I left my wife to go home by coach, and I walked to the Temple about my law business, and there received a subpœnâ for T. Trice. I carried it myself to him at the usual house at Doctors Commons and did give it him, and so home and to bed. It cost me 20s. between the midwife and the two nurses today.
. To Westminster Hall by water in the morning, where I saw the King going in his barge to the Parliament House; this being the first day of their meeting again. And the Bishops, I hear, do take their places in the Lords House this day. I walked long in the Hall, but hear nothing of news, but what Ned Pickering tells me, which I am troubled at, that Sir J. Minnes should send word to the King, that if he did not remove all my Lord Sandwich’s captains out of this fleet, he believed the King would not be master of the fleet at its coming again: and so do endeavour to bring disgrace upon my Lord. But I hope all that will not do, for the King loves him. Hence by water to the Wardrobe, and dined with my Lady, my Lady Wright being there too, whom I find to be a witty but very conceited woman and proud. And after dinner Mr. Moore and I to the Temple, and there he read my bill and likes it well enough, and so we came back again, he with me as far as the lower end of Cheapside, and there I gave him a pint of sack and parted, and I home, and went seriously to look over my papers touching T. Trice, and I think I have found some that will go near to do me more good in this difference of ours than all I have before. So to bed with my mind cheery upon it, and lay long reading Hobbs His Liberty and Necessity,1250 and a little but very shrewd piece, and so to sleep.
. In the morning again at looking over my last night’s papers, and by and by comes Mr. Moore, who finds that my papers may do me much good. He stayed and dined with me, and we had a good surloyne of rost beefe, the first that ever I had of my own buying since I kept house; and after dinner he and I to the Temple, and there showed Mr. Smallwood1251 my papers, who likes them well, and so I left them with him, and went with Mr. Moore to Gray’s Inn to his chamber, and there he showed me his old Camden’s Britannica,1252 which I intend to buy of him, and so took it away with me, and left it at St. Paul’s Churchyard to be bound, and so home and to the office all the afternoon; it being the first afternoon that we have sat, which we are now to do always, so long as the Parliament sits, who this day have voted the King £120,0001253 to be raised to pay his debts. And after the office with Sir W. Batten to the Dolphin, and drank and left him there, and I again to the Temple about my business, and so on foot home again and to bed.
. Within all the morning, and at noon with my wife, by appointment to dinner at the Dolphin, where Sir W. Batten, and his lady and daughter Matt,1254 and Captain Cocke and his lady, a German lady, but a very great beauty, and we dined together, at the spending of some wagers won and lost between him and I; and there we had the best music and very good songs, and were very merry and danced, but I was most of all taken with Madam Cocke and her little boy, which in mirth his father had given to me. But after all our mirth comes a reckoning of £4, besides 40s. to the musicians, which did trouble us, but it must be paid, and so I took leave and left them there about eight at night. And on foot went to the Temple, and then took my cousin Turner’s man Roger, and went by his advice to Serjeant Fountaine and told him our case, who gives me good comfort in it, and I gave him 30s. fee. So home again and to bed. This day a good pretty maid was sent my wife by Mary Bowyer, whom my wife has hired.
. To Westminster with my wife (she to her father’s), and about 10 o’clock back again home, and there I to the office a little, and thence by coach with Commissioner Pett to Cheapside to one Savill,1255 a painter, who I intend shall do my picture and my wife’s. Thence I to dinner at the Wardrobe, and so home to the office, and there all the afternoon till night, and then both Sir Williams to my house, and in comes Captain Cock, and they to cards. By and by Sir W. Batten and Cock, after drinking a good deal of wine, went away, and Sir W. Penn stayed with my wife and I to supper, very pleasant, and so good night. This day I have a chine of beef sent home, which I bespoke to send, and did send it as a present to my uncle Wight.
. Up early, and by appointment to St. Clement Danes1256 to church, and there to meet Captain Cocke, who had often commended Mr. Alsopp, their minister, to me, who is indeed an able man, but as all things else did not come up to my expectations. His text was that all good and perfect gifts are from above.1257 Thence Cocke and I to the Sun Tavern behind the Exchange, and there met with others that are come from the same church, and stayed and drank and talked with them a little, and so broke up, and I to the Wardrobe and there dined, and stayed all the afternoon with my Lady alone talking, and thence to see Madame Turner, who, poor lady, continues very ill, and I begin to be afraid of her. Thence homewards, and meeting Mr. Yong, the upholster, he and I to the Mitre, and with Mr. Rawlinson sat and drank a quart of sack, and so I to Sir W. Batten’s and there stayed and supped, and so home, where I found an invitation sent my wife and I to my uncle Wight’s on Tuesday next to the chine of beef which I presented them with yesterday. So to prayers and to bed.
. To Westminster Hall in the morning with Captain Lambert, and there he did at the Dog give me and some other friends of his, his foy, he being to set sail today towards the Streights. Here we had oysters and good wine. Having this morning met in the Hall with Mr. Sanchy, we appointed to meet at the play this afternoon. At noon, at the rising of the House, I met with Sir W. Penn and Major General Massy,1258 who I find by discourse to be a very ingenious man, and among other things a great master in the secrecies of powder and fireworks, and another knight to dinner, at the Swan, in the Palace yard, and our meat brought from the Leg; and after dinner Sir W. Penn and I to the Theatre, and there saw The Country Captain, a dull play, and that being done, I left him with his Tories1259 and went to the Opera, and saw the last act of The Bondman, and there found Mr. Sanchy and Mrs. Mary Archer, sister to the fair Betty, whom I did admire at Cambridge, and thence took them to the Fleece in Covent Garden, there to bid good night to Sir W. Penn who stayed for me; but Mr. Sanchy could not by any argument get his lady to trust herself with him into the tavern, which he was much troubled at, and so we returned immediately into the city by coach, and at the Mitre in Cheapside there ’light and drank, and then set her at her uncle’s in the Old Jewry. And so he and I back again thither, and drank till past 12 at night, till I had drank something too much. He all the while telling me his intention to get a girl who is worth £1,000, and many times we had her sister Betty’s health, whose memory I love. At last parted, and I well home, only had got cold and was hoarse and so to bed.
. This morning our maid Dorothy and my wife parted, which though she be a wench for her tongue not to be borne with, yet I was loth to part with her, but I took my leave kindly of her and went out to Savill’s, the painter, and there sat the first time for my face with him; thence to dinner with my Lady; and so after an hour or two’s talk in divinity with my Lady, Captain Ferrers and Mr. Moore and I to the Theatre, and there saw Hamlet very well done, and so I home, and found that my wife had been with my aunt Wight and Ferrers to wait on my Lady today this afternoon, and there danced and were very merry, and my Lady very fond as she is always of my wife. So to bed.
. At home all the morning; at noon Will brought me from Whitehall, whither I had sent him, some letters from my Lord Sandwich, from Tangier;1260 where he continues still, and hath done some execution upon the Turks, and retaken an Englishman from them,1261 of one Mr. Parker’s, a merchant in Mark Lane. In the afternoon Mr. Pett and I met at the office; there being none more there than we two I saw there was not the reverence due to us observed, and so I took occasion to break up and took Mr. Gawdon along with me, and he and I (though it rained) were resolved to go, he to my Lord Treasurer’s and I to the Chancellor’s with a letter from my Lord today. So to a tavern at the end of Mark Lane, and there we stayed till with much ado we got a coach, and so to my Lord Treasurer’s and lost our labours, then to the Chancellor’s, and there met with Mr. Dugdale,1262 and with him and one Mr. Simons, I think that belongs to my Lord Hatton,1263 and Mr. Kipps and others, to the Fountain tavern, and there stayed till twelve at night drinking and singing, Mr. Simons and one Mr. Agar singing very well. Then Mr. Gawdon being almost drunk had the wit to be gone, and so I took leave too, and it being a fine moonshine night he and I footed it all the way home, but though he was drunk he went such a pace as I did admire how he was able to go. When I came home I found our new maid Sarah1264 come, who is a tall and a very well favoured wench, and one that I think will please us. So to bed.
. I lay long in bed, till Sir Williams both sent me word that we were to wait upon the Duke of York today; and that they would have me to meet them at Westminster Hall, at noon: so I rose and went thither; and there I understand that they are gone to Mr. Coventry’s lodgings, in the Old Palace Yard, to dinner (the first time I knew he had any); and there I met them two and Sir G. Carteret, and had a very fine dinner, and good welcome, and discourse; and so, by water, after dinner to Whitehall to the Duke, who met us in his closet; and there he did discourse to us the business of Holmes, and did desire of us to know what hath been the common practice about making of foreign ships to strike sail to us, which they did all do as much as they could; but I could say nothing to it, which I was sorry for. So indeed I was forced to study a lie, and so after we were gone from the Duke, I told Mr. Coventry that I had heard Mr. Selden often say, that he could prove that in Henry the 7th’s time, he did give commission to his captains to make the King of Denmark’s ships to strike to him in the Baltic.1265 From thence Sir W. Penn and I to the Theatre, but it was so full that we could hardly get any room, so he went up to one of the boxes, and I into the 18d. places, and there saw Love at First Sight,1266 a play of Mr. Killigrew’s, and the first time that it hath been acted since before the troubles, and great expectation there was, but I found the play to be a poor thing, and so I perceive everybody else do. So home, calling at Paul’s Churchyard for a Mare Clausum,1267 having it in my mind to write a little matter, what I can gather, about the business of striking sail, and present it to the Duke, which I now think will be a good way to make myself known. So home and to bed.
. In the morning to the Temple, Mr. Philips and Dr. Williams about my several law matters, and so to the Wardrobe to dinner, and after dinner stole away, my Lady not dining out of her chamber, and so home and then to the office all the afternoon, and that being done Sir W. Batten and I and Captain Cock got a bottle of sack into the office, and there we sat late and drank and talked, and so home and to bed. I am this day in very good health, only got a little cold. The Parliament has sat a pretty while. The old condemned judges of the late King have been brought before the Parliament, and like to be hanged. I am deep in Chancery against Tom Trice, God give a good issue; and myself under great trouble for my late great expending of money vainly, which God stop for the future. This is the last day for the old State’s coin1268 to pass in common payments, but they say it is to pass in public payments to the King three months still.
December 1661
. In the morning at church and heard Mr. Mills. At home dined and with me by appointment Mr. Sanchy, who should have brought his mistress, Mrs. Mary Archer, of Cambridge, but she could not come, but we had a good dinner for him. And so in the afternoon my wife went to church, and he and I stayed at home and drank and talked, and he stayed with me till night and supped with me, when I expected to have seen Jack Cole and Lem. Wagstaffe, but they did not come. We this day cut a brave collar of brawn from Winchcombe which proves very good, and also opened the glass of girkins which Captain Cocke did give my wife the other day, which are rare things. So at night to bed. There hath lately been great clapping up of some old statesmen, such as Ireton,1269 Moyer,1270 and others, and they say, upon a great plot, but I believe no such thing; but it is but justice that they should be served as they served the poor Cavaliers; and I believe it will oftentimes be so as long as I live, whether there be cause or no. This evening my brother Tom was with me, and I did talk again to him about Mr. Townsend’s daughter, and I do intend to put the business in hand. I pray God give a good end to it.
. To Savill the painter’s, but he not being well I could do nothing there, and so I returned home, and in my way met Mr. Moore and took him with me home; where we stayed and talked all the morning, and he dined with me, and after dinner went away to the Privy Seal, this being our first day this month. By and by called on by Mr. Sanchy and his mistress, and with them by coach to the Opera, to see The Mad Lover,1271 but not much pleased with the play. That done home all to my house, where they stayed and supped and were merry, and at last late bid good night and so we to bed.
. To the Paynter’s and sat and had more of my picture done; but it do not please me, for I fear it will not be like me. At noon from thence to the Wardrobe, where dinner not being ready Mr. Moore and I to the Temple about my little business at Mr. Turner’s, and so back again, and dinner being half done I went in to my Lady, where my Lady Wright was at dinner with her, and all our talk about the great happiness that my Lady Wright says there is in being in the fashion and in variety of fashions, in scorn of others that are not so, as citizens’ wives and country gentlewomen, which though it did displease me enough, yet I said nothing to it. Thence by water to the office through bridge, being carried by him in oars that the other day rowed in a scull faster than my oars to the Tower, and I did give him 6d. At the office all the afternoon, and at night home to read in Mare Clausum till bedtime, and so to bed, but had a very bad night by dreams of my wife’s riding with me and her horse throwing her and breaking her leg, and then I dreamed that I … [was] in such pain that I waked with it, and had a great deal of pain there a very great while till I fell asleep again, and such apprehension I had of it that when I rose and trussed up myself thinking that it had been no dream. Till in the daytime I found myself very well at ease, and remembered that I did dream so, and that Mr. Creed was with me, and that I did complain to him of it, and he said he had the same pain in his left that I had in my right … which pleased me much to remember.
. To Whitehall with both Sir Williams, thence by water, where I saw a man lie dead upon Westminster Stairs that had been drowned yesterday. To the Temple, and thence to Mr. Phillips and got my copy of Sturtlow lands. So back to the 3 Tuns at Charing Cross, and there met the two Sir Williams and Col. Treswell and Mr. Falconer, and dined there at Sir W. Penn’s cost, and after dinner by water to Cheapside to the painter’s, and there found my wife, and having sat a little she and I by coach to the Opera and Theatre, but coming too late to both, and myself being a little out of tune we returned, and I settled to read in Mare Clausum till bedtime, and so to bed.
. This morning I went early to the Paynter’s and there sat for my picture the fourth time, but it do not yet please me, which do much trouble me. Thence to the Treasury Office, where I found Sir W. Batten come before me, and there we sat to pay off the St. George. By and by came Sir W. Penn, and he and I stayed while Sir W. Batten went home to dinner, and then he came again, and Sir W. Penn and I went and dined at my house, and had two mince pies sent thither by our order from the messenger Slater, that had dressed some victuals for us, and so we were very merry, and after dinner rode out in his coach, he to Whitehall, and my wife and I to the Opera, and saw Hamlet well performed. Thence to the Temple and Mrs. Turner’s (who continues still very ill), and so home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and then to Westminster Hall and there walked, and then with Mr. Spicer, Hawly, Washington, and little Mr. Ashwell (my old friends at the Exchequer) to the Dog, and gave them two or three quarts of wine, and so away to Whitehall, where, at Sir G. Carteret’s, Sir Williams both and I dined very pleasantly; and after dinner, by appointment, came the Governors of the East India Company, to sign and seal the contract between us1272 (in the King’s name) and them. And that done, we all went to the King’s closet, and there spoke with the King and the Duke of York, who promise to be very careful of the India trade to the utmost. So back to Sir G. Carteret’s and ended our business, and so away homewards, but Sir W. Batten offering to go to the 3 Tuns at Charing Cross, where the pretty maid the daughter of the house is; I was saying that, that tickled Sir W. Penn, he seemed to take these words very captiously and angrily, which I saw, and seemed indifferent to go home in his coach with them, and so took leave to go to the Council Chamber to speak with my Lord Privy Seal, which I did, but they did stay for me, which I was pleased at, but no words passed between him and me in all our way home. So home and to bed.
. This morning comes Captain Ferrers and the German, Emanuel Luffe, who goes as one of my Lord’s footmen, though he deserves a much better preferment, to take their leave of me, and here I got the German to play upon my theorbo, which he did both below and in my wife’s chamber, who was in bed. He plays bravely. I find by him that my lute is a most excellent lute. I did give them a mince pie and a collar of brawn and some wine for their breakfast, and were very merry, and sent for Mr. Adamson’s neighbour to drink Mr. Shepley’s health. At last we all parted, but within a quarter of an hour after they were gone, and my wife and I were talking about buying of a fine scallop which is brought her this morning by a woman to be sold, which is to cost her 45s., in comes the German back again, all in a gore of blood, which I wondered at, and tells me that he is afeard that the Captain is killed by the watermen at Tower Stairs; so I presently went thither, and found that upon some rude pressing of the watermen to ply the Captain, he struck one of them with his cane, which they would not take, but struck him again, and then the German drew his sword and ran at one of them, but they were both soundly beaten.1273 The Captain is, however, got to the boy that carries him and the pages to the Downs, and I went into the alehouse at the Stairs and got them to deliver the Captain’s feathers, which one from the Captain was come to demand, and went home again, and there found my wife dressing of the German’s head, and so did [give] him a cravat for his neck, and a crown in his purse, and sent him away again. Then came Mr. Moore, and he and I to Westminster and to Worcester House to see Mr. Montagu before he goes away (this night), but could not see him, nor do I think he has a mind to see us for fear of our demanding of money of him for anything. So back to Whitehall, and eat a bit of meat at Wilkinson’s, and then to the Privy Seal, and sealed there the first time this month; and, among other things that passed, there was a patent for Roger Palmer (Madam Palmer’s husband) to be Earl of Castlemaine and Baron of Limbricke in Ireland; but the honour is tied up to the males got of the body of this wife, the Lady Barbary: the reason whereof everybody knows. That done, by water to the office, when I found Sir W. Penn had been alone all the night and was just rose, and so I to him, and with him I found Captain Holmes, who had wrote his case, and gives me a copy, as he hath many among his friends, and presented the same to the King and Council. Which I shall make use of in my attempt of writing something concerning the business of striking sail, which I am now about.1274 But he do cry out against Sir John Minnes, as the veriest knave and rogue and coward in the world, which I was glad to hear, because he has given out bad words concerning my Lord, though I am sorry it is so. Here Captain Cox then came in, and he and I stayed a good while and so good night. Home and wrote by the post to my father, and so to bed.
. In bed all the morning thinking to take physic, but it being a frost my wife would not have me. So to dinner at the Wardrobe, and after a great deal of good discourse with my Lady after dinner, and among other things of the great christening yesterday at Mr. Rumbell’s, and courtiers and pomp that was there, which I wonder at, I went away up and down into all the churches almost between that place and my house, and so home. And then came my brother Tom, and stayed and talked with me, and I hope he will do very well and get money. So to supper and to bed. This morning as I was in bed, one brings me T. Trice’s answer to my bill in chancery from Mr. Smallwood, which I am glad to see, though I am afraid it will do me hurt.
. To Whitehall, and thence to the Rhenish wine-house, where I met Mons. Eschar and there took leave of him, he being to go this night to the Downs towards Portugal, and so spent all the morning. At noon to dinner to the Wardrobe; where my Lady Wright was, who did talk much upon the worth and the desert of gallantry; and that there was none fit to be courtiers, but such as have been abroad and know fashions. Which I endeavoured to oppose; and was troubled to hear her talk so, though she be a very wise and discreet lady in other things. From thence Mr. Moore and I to the Temple about my law business with my cousin Turner, and there we read over T. Trice’s answer to my bill and advised thereupon what to do in his absence, he being to go out of town tomorrow. Thence he and I to Mr. Walpole, my attorney, whom I never saw before, and we all to an alehouse hard by, and there we talked of our business, and he put me into great hopes, but he is but a young man, and so I do not depend so much upon his encouragement. So by coach home, and to supper, and to bed, having stayed up till 12 at night writing letters to my Lord Sandwich and all my friends with him at sea, to send tomorrow by Mons. Eschar, who goes tomorrow post to the Downs to go along with the fleet to Portugal.
. To Whitehall, and there finding Mons. Eschar to be gone, I sent my letters by a porter to the posthouse in Southwark to be sent by despatch to the Downs. So to dinner to my Lord Crew’s by coach, and in my way had a stop of above an hour and a half, which is a great trouble this Parliament time, but it cannot be helped. However I got thither before my Lord come from the House, and so dined with him, and dinner done, home to the office, and there sat late and so home.
. My brother Tom and then Mr. Moore came to me this morning, and stayed a while with me, and then I went out, and in my way met with Mr. Howell the Turner, who invited me to dine this day at Mr. Rawlinson’s with some friends of his, officers of the Tower, at a venison pasty, which I promised him, and so I went to the Old Bailey, and there stayed and drank with him, who told me the whole story how Pegg Kite has married herself to a weaver, an ugly fellow, to her undoing, of which I am glad that I have nothing to do in it. From thence home and put on my velvet coat, and so to the Mitre to dinner according to my promise this morning, but going up into the room I found at least 12 or more persons, and knew not the face of any of them, so I went down again, and though I met Mr. Yong the upholster yet I would not be persuaded to stay, but went away and walked to the Exchequer, and up and down, and was very hungry, and from thence home, when I understand Mr. Howell was come for me to go thither, but I am glad I was not at home, and my wife was gone out by coach to Clerkenwell to see Mrs. Margaret Penn, who is at school there. So I went to see Sir W. Penn, who for this two or three days has not been well, and he and I after some talk took a coach and went to Moorfields, and there walked, though it was very cold, an hour or two, and went into an alehouse, and there I drank some ale and eat some bread and cheese, but he would not eat a bit, and so being very merry we went home again. He to his lodgings and I by promise to Sir W. Batten’s, where he and my lady have gone out of town, and so Mrs. Martha was at home alone, and Mrs. Moore and there I supped upon some good things left of yesterday’s dinner there, where dined a great deal of company—Sir R. Browne and others—and by and by comes in Captain Cox who promised to be here with me, but he stayed very late, and had been drinking somewhere and was very drunk, and so very capricious, which I was troubled to see in a man that I took for a very wise and wary man. So I home and left him there, and so to bed.
. We lay long in bed, then up and made me ready, and by and by come Will Bowyer and Mr. Gregory, my old Exchequer friend, to see me, and I took them to the Dolphin and there did give them a good morning draught, and so parted, and invited them and all my old Exchequer acquaintance to come and dine with me there on Wednesday next. From thence to the Wardrobe and dined with my Lady, where her brother, Mr. John Crew, dined also, and a strange gentlewoman dined at the table as a servant of my Lady’s; but I knew her not, and so I am afeard that poor Mademoiselle1275 was gone, but I since understand that she is come as housekeeper to my Lady, and is a married woman. From thence to Westminster to my Lord’s house to meet my Lord Privy Seal, who appointed to seal there this afternoon, but by and by word is brought that he is come to Whitehall, and so we are fain to go thither to him, and there we stayed to seal till it was so late that though I got leave to go away before he had done, yet the office was done before I could get thither, and so to Sir W. Penn’s, and there sat and talked and drank with him, and so home.
. At home all the morning, being by the cold weather, which for these two days has been frost, in some pain in my bladder. Dined at home and then with my wife to the Paynter’s, and there she sat the first time to be drawn, while I all the while stood looking on a pretty lady’s picture, whose face did please me extremely. At last, he having done, I found that the dead colour of my wife is good, above what I expected, which pleased me exceedingly. So home and to the office about some special business, where Sir Williams both were, and from thence with them to the Steelyard, where my Lady Batten and others came to us, and there we drank and had music and Captain Cox’s company, and he paid all, and so late back again home by coach, and so to bed.
. All the morning at home lying in bed with my wife till 11 o’clock. Such a habit we have got this winter of lying long abed. Dined at home, and in the afternoon to the office. There sat late, and so home and to bed.
. To church in the morning, where our young Reader begun the first day to read. Sir W. Penn dined with me and we were merry. Again to church and so home, and all alone read till bedtime, and so to prayers and to bed. I have been troubled this day about a difference between my wife and her maid Nell, who is a simple slut, and I am afeard we shall find her a cross-grained wench. I am now full of study about writing something about our making of strangers strike to us at sea; and so am altogether reading Selden and Grotius, and such other authors to that purpose.
. Up by five o’clock this morning by candlelight (which I have not done for many a day), being called upon by one Mr. Bollen by appointment, who has business to be done with my Lord Privy Seal this morning, and so by coach, calling Mr. Moore at the Wardrobe, to Chelsy, and there did get my Lord to seal it. And so back again to Westminster Hall, and thence to my Lord Sandwich’s lodging, where I met my wife (who had been to see Mrs. Hunt who was brought to bed the other day of a boy), and got a joint of meat thither from the Cook’s, and she and I and Sarah dined together, and after dinner to the Opera, where there was a new play (Cutter of Coleman Street),1276 made in the year 1658, with reflections much upon the late times; and it being the first time, the pay was doubled, and so to save money, my wife and I went up into the gallery, and there sat and saw very well; and a very good play it is. It seems of Cowly’s making. From thence by coach home, and to bed.
. Up and to the Paynter’s to see how he went forward in our picture. So back again to dinner at home, and then was sent for to the Privy Seal, whither I was forced to go and stay so long and late that I was much vexed. At last we got all done, and then made haste to the office, where they were sat, and there we sat late, and so home to supper and to Selden, Mare Clausum, and so to bed.
. At the office upon business extraordinary all the morning, then to my Lady Sandwich’s to dinner, whither my wife, who had been at the painter’s, came to me, and there dined, and there I left her, and to the Temple my brother and I to see Mrs. Turner, who begins to be better, and so back to my Lady’s, where much made of, and so home to my study till bedtime, and so to bed.
. This morning my wife dressed herself fine to go to the christening of Mrs. Hunt’s child, and so she and I in the way in the morning went to the Paynter’s, and there she sat till noon, and I all the while looking over great variety of good prints which he had, and by and by comes my boy to tell us that Mrs. Hunt has been at our house to tell us that the christening is not till Saturday next. So after the Paynter had done I did like the picture pretty well, and my wife and I went by coach home, but in the way I took occasion to fall out with my wife very highly about her ribbons being ill matched and of two colours, and to very high words, so that, like a passionate fool, I did call her whore, for which I was afterwards sorry. But I set her down at home, and went myself by appointment to the Dolphin, where Sir W. Warren did give us all a good dinner, and that being done, to the office, and there sat late, and so home.
. Lay long in bed, and then up, and so to the Wardrobe to dinner, and from thence out with Mr. Moore towards my house, and in our way met with Mr. Swan (my old acquaintance), and we to a tavern, where we had enough of his old simple religious talk, and he is still a coxcomb in these things as he ever was, and tells me he is setting out a book called The Unlawful Use of Lawful Things; but a very simple fellow he is, and so I leave him. So we drank and at last parted, and Mr. Moore and I into Cornhill, it being dark night, and in the street and on the Exchange discoursed about Dominion of the Sea, wherein I am lately so much concerned, and so I home and sat late up reading of Mr. Selden, and so to bed.
. To Whitehall to the Privy Seal, where my Lord Privy Seal did tell us he could seal no more this month, for that he goes thirty miles out of town to keep his Christmas. At which I was glad, but only afeard lest anything of the King’s should force us to go after him to get a seal in the country. Thence to Westminster Hall (having by the way drank with Mrs. Sarah and Mrs. Betty at my Lord’s lodgings), and thence taken by some Exchequer men to the Dog, where, being St. Thomas’s day, by custom they have a general meeting at dinner. There I was and all very merry, and there I spoke to Mr. Falconberge to look whether he could out of Domesday Book, give me anything concerning the sea, and the dominion thereof; which he says he will look after. Thence taking leave to my brother’s, and there by appointment met with Prior of Brampton who had money to pay me, but desiring some advice he stays till Monday. So by coach home to the office, where I was vexed to see Sir Williams both seem to think so much that I should be a little out of the way, saying that without their Register they were not a Committee, which I took in some dudgeon, and see clearly that I must keep myself at a little distance with them and not crouch, or else I shall never keep myself up even with them. So home and wrote letters by the post. This evening my wife come home from christening Mrs. Hunt’s son, his name John, and a merchant in Mark Lane came along with her, that was her partner. So after my business was done, and read something in Mr. Selden, I went to bed.
. To church in the morning, where the Reader made a boyish young sermon. Home to dinner, and there I took occasion, from the blackness of the meat as it came out of the pot, to fall out with my wife and my maid for their sluttery, and so left the table, and went up to read in Mr. Selden till church time, and then my wife and I to church, and there in the pew, with the rest of the company, was Captain Holmes, in his gold-laced suit, at which I was troubled because of the old business which he attempted upon my wife. So with my mind troubled I sat still, but by and by I took occasion from the rain now holding up (it raining when we came into the church) to put my wife in mind of going to the christening (which she was invited to) of N. Osborne’s child, which she did, and so went out of the pew, and my mind was eased. So home after sermon and there came by appointment Dr. T. Pepys, Will. Joyce, and my brother Tom, and supped with me, and very merry they were, and I seemed to be, but I was not pleased at all with their company. So they being gone we went to bed.
. Early up and by coach (before daylight) to the Wardrobe, and took up Mr. Moore, and he and I to Chelsy to my Lord Privy Seal, and there sealed some things, he being to go out of town for all Christmas tomorrow. So back again to Westminster, and from thence by water to the Treasury Office, where I found Sir W. Penn paying off the Sophia and Griffen, and there I stayed with him till noon, and having sent for some collar of beef and a mince pie, we eat and drank, and so I left him there and to my brother’s by appointment to meet Prior, but he came not, so I went and saw Mrs. Turner who continues weak, and by and by word was brought me that Prior’s man was come to Tom’s, and so I went and told out £128 which I am to receive of him, but Prior not coming I went away and left the money by his desire with my brother all night, and they to come to me tomorrow morning. So I took coach, and ’lighting at my bookseller’s1277 in Paul’s Churchyard,1278 I met with Mr. Crumlum and the second master of Paul’s School, and thence I took them to the Starr, and there we sat and talked, and I had great pleasure in their company, and very glad I was of meeting him so accidentally, I having omitted too long to go to see him. Here in discourse of books I did offer to give the school what books he would choose of £5. So we parted, and I home, and to Mr. Selden, and then to bed.
. Home all the morning and dined at home, and in the afternoon to the office. So home.
. In the morning to church, where at the door of our pew I was fain to stay, because that the sexton had not opened the door. A good sermon of Mr. Mills. Dined at home all alone, and taking occasion from some fault in the meat to complain of my maid’s sluttery, my wife and I fell out, and I up to my chamber in a discontent. After dinner my wife comes up to me and all friends again, and she and I to walk upon the leads, and there Sir W. Penn called us, and we went to his house and supped with him, but before supper Captain Cock came to us half drunk, and began to talk, but Sir W. Penn knowing his humour and that there was no end of his talking, drinks four great glasses of wine to him, one after another, healths to the king, and by that means made him drunk, and so he went away, and so we sat down to supper, and were merry, and so after supper home and to bed.
. This morning Sir W. Penn and I to the Treasury office, and there we paid off the Amity (Captain Stokes’s ship that was at Guinea) and another ship, and so home, and after dinner Sir William came to me, and he and his son and daughter, and I and my wife, by coach to Moorfields to walk; but it was most foul weather, and so we went into an alehouse and there eat some cakes and ale, and a washeallbowle1279 woman and girl came to us and sung to us. And after all was done I called my boy (Wayneman) to us to eat some cake that was left, and the woman of the house told us that he had called for two cakes and a pot of ale for himself, at which I was angry, and am resolved to correct him for it. So home, and Sir W. Penn and his son and daughter to supper to me to a good turkey, and were merry at cards, and so to bed.
. In the morning to my Bookseller’s to bespeak a Stephens’s Thesaurus, for which I offer £4, to give to Paul’s School; and from thence to Paul’s Church; and there I heard Dr. Gunning preach a good sermon upon the day (being St. John’s day), and did hear him tell a story, which he did persuade us to believe to be true, that St. John and the Virgin Mary did appear to Gregory, a Bishop, at his prayer to be confirmed in the faith, which I did wonder to hear from him. Here I met with Mr. Crumlum (and told him of my endeavour to get Stephens’s Thesaurus for the school), and so home, and after dinner comes Mr. Faulconberge to see me, and at his desire I sent over for his kinsman Mr. Knightly, the merchant, and so he came over and sat and drank with us, and at his request I went over with him, and there I sat till the evening, and till both Mr. Knightly and Mr. Faulconberge (for whom I sent my boy to get a coach to carry him to Westminster) were both drunk, and so home, but better wine I never drank in all my life. So home, and finding my wife gone to Sir W. Penn’s, I went thither, and there I sat and played at cards and supped, and so home and to bed.
. At home all the morning; and in the afternoon all of us at the office, upon a letter from the Duke for the making up of a speedy estimate of all the debts of the Navy, which is put into good forwardness. I home and Sir W. Penn to my house, who with his children stayed playing cards late, and so to bed.
. Long in bed with my wife, and though I had determined to go to dine with my wife at my Lady’s, (chiefly to put off dining with Sir W. Penn today because Holmes dined there), yet I could not get a coach time enough to go thither, and so I dined at home, and my brother Tom with me, and then a coach came and I carried my wife to Westminster, and she went to see Mrs. Hunt, and I to the Abbey, and there meeting with Mr. Hooper, he took me in among the choir, and there I sang with them their service, and so that being done, I walked up and down till night for that Mr. Coventry was not come to Whitehall since dinner again. At last I went thither and he was come, and I spoke with him about some business of the office, and so took leave of him, and sent for my wife and the coach, and so to the Wardrobe and supped, and stayed very long talking with my Lady, who seems to dote every day more and more upon us. So home and to prayers, and to bed.
. At the office about this estimate and so with my wife and Sir W. Penn to see our pictures, which do not much displease us, and so back again, and I stayed at the Mitre, whither I had invited all my old acquaintance of the Exchequer to a good chine of beef, which with three barrels of oysters and three pullets, and plenty of wine and mirth, was our dinner, and there was about twelve of us, among others Mr. Bowyer, the old man, and Mr. Faulconberge, Shadwell, Taylor, Spicer, Woodruffe (who by reason of some friend that dined with him came to us after dinner), Servington, etc., and here I made them a foolish promise to give them one this day twelvemonth, and so forever while I live, but I do not intend it. Here I stayed as long as I could keep them, and so home to Sir W. Penn, who with his children and my wife has been at a play today and saw d’Ambois,1280 which I never saw. Here we stayed late at supper and playing at cards, and so home and to bed.
. My wife and I this morning to the Paynter’s, and there she sat the last time, and I stood by and did tell him some little things to do, that now her picture I think will please me very well; and after her, her little black dog sat in her lap; and was drawn, which made us very merry; so home to dinner, and so to the office; and there late finishing our estimate of the debts of the Navy to this day; and it come to near £374,000. So home, and after supper, and my barber had trimmed me, I sat down to end my journell for this year, and my condition at this time, by God’s blessing, is thus: my health (only upon catching cold, which brings great pain in my back … as it used to be when I had the stone) is very good, and so my wife’s in all respects: my servants, W. Hewer, Sarah, Nell, and Wayneman: my house at the Navy Office. I suppose myself to be worth about £500 clear in the world, and my goods of my house my own, and what is coming to me from Brampton, when my father dies, which God defer. But, by my uncle’s death, the whole care and trouble of all, and settling of all lies upon me, which is very great, because of lawsuits, especially that with T. Trice, about the interest of £200, which will, I hope, be ended soon. My chiefest thought is now to get a good wife for Tom, there being one offered by the Joyces, a cousin of theirs, worth £200 in ready money. I am also upon writing a little treatise to present to the Duke, about our privilege in the seas, as to other nations striking their flags to us. But my greatest trouble is, that I have for this last half year been a very great spendthrift in all manner of respects, that I am afeard to cast up my accounts, though I hope I am worth what I say above. But I will cast them up very shortly. I have newly taken a solemn oath about abstaining from plays and wine, which I am resolved to keep according to the letter of the oath which I keep by me. The fleet hath been ready to sail for Portugal, but hath lacked wind this fortnight, and by that means my Lord is forced to keep at sea all this winter, till he brings home the Queen, which is the expectation of all now, and the greatest matter of public talk.
January 1661–62
. Waking this morning out of my sleep on a sudden, I did with my elbow hit my wife a great blow over her face and nose, which waked her with pain, at which I was sorry, and to sleep again. Up and went forth with Sir W. Penn by coach towards Westminster, and in my way seeing that the Spanish Curate1281 was acted today, I ’light and let him go alone, and I home again and sent to young Mr. Penn and his sister to go anon with my wife and I to the Theatre. That done, Mr. W. Penn came to me and he and I walked out, and to the Stacioner’s, and looked over some pictures and maps for my house, and so home again to dinner, and by and by came the two young Pens, and after we had eat a barrel of oysters we went by coach to the play, and there saw it well acted, and a good play it is, only Diego the Sexton did overdo his part too much. From thence home, and they sat with us till late at night at cards very merry, but the jest was Mr. W. Penn had left his sword in the coach, and so my boy and he run out after the coach, and by very great chance did at the Exchange meet with the coach and got his sword again. So to bed.
. An invitation sent us before we were up from my Lady Sandwich’s, to come and dine with her: so at the office all the morning, and at noon thither to dinner, where there was a good and great dinner, and the company, Mr. William Montagu and his Lady (but she seemed so far from the beauty that I expected her from my Lady’s talk to be, that it put me into an ill humour all the day, to find my expectation so lost), Mr. Rumball and Townsend and their wives. After dinner, borne by water, and so to the office till night, and then I went forth, by appointment, to meet with Mr. Grant,1282 who promised to meet me at the Coffeehouse to bring me acquainted with Cooper,1283 the great limner in little, but they deceived me, and so I went home, and there sat at my lute and singing till almost twelve at night, and so to bed. Sir Richd. Fanshaw is come suddenly from Portugal, but nobody knows what his business is.
. Lay long in bed, and so up and abroad to several places about petty businesses. Among others to Tom’s, who I find great hopes of that he will do well, which I am glad of, and am not now so hasty to get a wife for him as I was before. So to dinner to my Lord Crew’s with him and his Lady, and after dinner to Faithorne’s,1284 and there bought some pictures of him; and while I was there, comes by the King’s life-guard, he being gone to Lincoln’s Inn this afternoon to see the Revells there; there being, according to an old custom, a prince and all his nobles, and other matters of sport and charge.1285 So home, and up to my chamber to look over my papers and other things, my mind being much troubled for these four or five days because of my present great expense, and will be so till I cast up and see how my estate stands, and that I am loth to do for fear I have spent too much, and delay it the rather that I may pay for my pictures and my wife’s, and the book that I am buying for Paul’s School before I do cast up my accounts.
. At home most of the morning hanging up pictures, and seeing how my pewter sconces that I have bought will become my stairs and entry, and then with my wife by water to Westminster, whither she to her father’s and I to Westminster Hall, and there walked a turn or two with Mr. Chetwin (who had a dog challenged of him by another man that said it was his, but Mr. Chetwin called the dog, and the dog at last would follow him, and not his old master, and so Chetwin got the dog) and W. Symons, and thence to my wife, who met me at my Lord’s lodgings, and she and I and old East to Wilkinson’s to dinner, where we had some rost beef and a mutton pie, and a mince-pie, but none of them pleased me. After dinner by coach my wife and I home, and I to the office, and there till late, and then I and my wife to Sir W. Penn’s to cards and supper, and were merry, and much correspondence there has been between our two families all this Christmas. So home and to bed.
. Left my wife in bed not well … and I to church, and so home to dinner, and dined alone upon some marrow bones, and had a fine piece of rost beef, but being alone I eat none. So after dinner comes in my brother Tom, and he tells me how he hath seen the father and mother of the girl which my cousin Joyces would have him to have for a wife, and they are much for it, but we are in a great quandary what to do therein, £200 being but a little money; and I hope, if he continues as he begins, he may look out for one with more. To church, and before sermon there was a long psalm, and half another sung out while the Sexton gathered what the church would give him for this last year. I gave him 3s., and have the last week given the Clerk 2s., which I set down that I may know what to do the next year, if it please the Lord that I live so long; but the jest was, the Clerk begins the 25th psalm, which hath a proper tune to it, and then the 116th, which cannot be sung with that tune, which seemed very ridiculous. After church to Sir W. Batten’s, where on purpose I have not been this fortnight, and I am resolved to keep myself more reserved to avoyd the contempt which otherwise I must fall into, and so home and sat and talked and supped with my wife, and so up to prayers and to bed, having wrote a letter this night to Sir J. Mennes in the Downs for his opinion in the business of striking of flags.
. This morning I sent my lute to the Paynter’s, and there I stayed with him all the morning to see him paint the neck of my lute in my picture, which I was not pleased with after it was done. Thence to dinner to Sir W. Penn’s, it being a solemn feast day with him, his wedding day,1286 and we had, besides a good chine of beef and other good cheer, eighteen mince pies in a dish, the number of the years that he hath been married,1287 where Sir W. Batten and his Lady, and daughter was, and Colonel Treswell and Major Holmes, who I perceive would fain get to be free and friends with my wife, but I shall prevent it, and she herself hath also a defiance against him. After dinner they set in to drinking, so that I would stay no longer, but went away home, and Captain Cock, who was quite drunk, comes after me, and there sat awhile and so away, and anon I went again after the company was gone, and sat and played at cards with Sir W. Penn and his children, and so after supper home, and there I hear that my man Gul1288 was gone to bed, and upon enquiry I hear that he did vomit before he went to bed, and complained his head ached, and thereupon though he was asleep I sent for him out of his bed, and he rose and came up to me, and I appeared very angry and did tax him with being drunk, and he told me that he had been with Mr. Southerne and Homewood at the Dolphin, and drank a quart of sack, but that his head did ache before he went out. But I do believe he has drunk too much, and so I did threaten him to bid his uncle dispose of him some other way, and sent him down to bed and do resolve to continue to be angry with him. So to bed to my wife, and told her what had passed.
. Long in bed, and then rose and went along with Sir W. Penn on foot to Stepney to Mrs. Chappell’s (who has the pretty boy to her son), and there met my wife and Sir W. Penn’s children all, and Mrs. Poole and her boy, and there dined and were very merry, and home again by coach and so to the office. In the afternoon and at night to Sir W. Penn’s, there supped and played at cards with them and were merry, the children being to go all away to school again tomorrow. Thence home and to bed.
. I rose and went to Westminster Hall, and there walked up and down upon several businesses, and among others I met with Sir W. Penn, who told me that he had this morning heard Sir G. Carteret extremely angry against my man Will that he is every other day with the Commissioners of Parliament at Westminster, and that his uncle was a rogue, and that he did tell his uncle everything that passes at the office, and Sir William, though he loves the lad, did advise me to part with him, which did with this surprise mightily trouble me, though I was already angry with him, and so to the Wardrobe by water, and all the way did examine Will about the business, but did not tell him upon what score, but I find that the poor lad do suspect something. To dinner with my Lady, and after dinner talked long with her, and so home, and to Sir W. Batten’s, and sat and talked with him, and so home troubled in mind, and so up to my study and read the two treaties before Mr. Selden’s Mare Clausum, and so to bed. This night come about £100 from Brampton by carrier to me, in holsters from my father, which made me laugh.
. At the office all the morning private with Sir G. Carteret (who I expected something from about yesterday’s business, but he said nothing), Sir W. Batten, and Sir W. Penn, about drawing up an answer to several demands of my Lord Treasurer, and late at it till 2 o’clock. Then to dinner, and my wife to Sir W. Penn’s, and so to the office again and sat till late; and so home, where I found Mr. Armiger below talking with my wife, but being offended with him for his leaving of my brother Tom I showed him no countenance, but did take notice of it to him plainly, and I perceive he was troubled at it, but I am glad I told him of it. Then (when he was gone) up to write several letters by the post, and so to set my papers and things in order, and to bed. This morning we agreed upon some things to answer to the Duke about the practice of striking of the flags, which will now put me upon finishing my resolution of writing something upon the subject.
. To Whitehall, and there spoke with Sir Paul Neale,1289 about a mathematical request of my Lord’s to him, which I did deliver to him, and he promised to employ somebody to answer it, something about observation of the moon and stars, but what I did not mind. Here I met with Mr. Moore, who tells me that an injunc̃on is granted in Chancery against T. Trice, at which I was very glad, being before in some trouble for it. With him to Westminster Hall, where I walked till noon talking with one or other, and so to the Wardrobe to dinner, where tired with Mr. Pickering’s company I returned to Westminster, by appointment, to meet my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s to gossip with her, which we did alone, and were very merry, and did give her a cup and spoon for my wife’s godchild, and so home by coach, and I late reading in my chamber and then to bed, my wife being angry that I keep the house so late up.
. My brother Tom came to me, and he and I to Mr. Turner the Draper’s, and paid £15 to him for cloth owing to him by my father for his mourning for my uncle, and so to his house, and there invited all the Honiwood’s to dinner on Monday next. So to the Exchange, and there all the news is of the French and Dutch joining against us; but I do not think it yet true. So home to dinner, and in the afternoon to the office, and so to Sir W. Batten’s, where in discourse I heard the custom of the election of the Dukes of Genoa, who for two years are every day attended in the greatest state; and four or five hundred men always waiting upon him as a king; and when the two years are out, and another is chose, a messenger is, sent to him, who stands at the bottom of the stairs, and he at the top, and says, “Va. Illustrissima Serenita sta finita, et puede andar en casa.”—“Your serenity is now ended; and now you may be going home,” and so claps on his hat. And the old Duke (having by custom sent his goods home before), walks away, it may be but with one man at his heels; and the new one brought immediately in his room, in the greatest state in the world.1290 Another account was told us, how in the Dukedom of Ragusa, in the Adriatic (a State that is little, but more ancient, they say, than Venice, and is called the mother of Venice, and the Turks lie round about it), that they change all the officers of their guard, for fear of conspiracy, every twenty-four hours, so that nobody knows who shall be captain of the guard tonight; but two men come to a man, and lay hold of him as a prisoner, and carry him to the place; and there he hath the keys of the garrison given him, and he presently issues his orders for that night’s watch: and so always from night to night. Sir Wm. Rider told the first of his own knowledge; and both he and Sir W. Batten confirm the last. Hence home and to read, and so to bed, but very late again.
. To church, where a stranger made a very good sermon. At noon Sir W. Penn and my good friend Dean Fuller, by appointment, and my wife’s brother by chance, dined with me very merry and handsomely. After dinner the Dean, my wife and I by Sir W. Penn’s coach left us, he to Whitehall, and my wife and I to visit Mrs. Pierce and thence Mrs. Turner, who continues very ill still, and The. is also fallen sick, which do trouble me for the poor mother. So home and to read, I being troubled to hear my wife rate though not without cause at her maid Nell, who is a lazy slut. So to prayers and to bed.
. All the morning at home, and Mr. Berkenshaw1291 (whom I have not seen a great while, came to see me), who stayed with me a great while talking of music, and I am resolved to begin to learn of him to compose, and to begin tomorrow, he giving of me so great hopes that I shall soon do it. Before twelve o’clock comes, by appointment, Mr. Peter and the Dean, and Collonel Honiwood, brothers,1292 to dine with me; but so soon that I was troubled at it. But, however, I entertained them with talk and oysters till one o’clock, and then we sat down to dinner, not staying for my uncle and aunt Wight, at which I was troubled, but they came by and by, and so we dined very merry, at least I seemed so, but the dinner does not please me, and less the Dean and Collonel, whom I found to be pitiful sorry gentlemen, though good-natured, but Mr. Peter above them both, who after dinner did show us the experiment (which I had heard talk of) of the chymicall glasses, which break all to dust by breaking off a little small end; which is a great mystery to me.1293 They being gone, my aunt Wight and my wife and I to cards, she teaching of us how to play at gleek,1294 which is a pretty game; but I have not my head so free as to be troubled with it. By and by comes my uncle Wight back, and so to supper and talk, and then again to cards, when my wife and I beat them two games and they us one, and so good night and to bed.
. All the morning at home, Mr. Berkenshaw by appointment yesterday coming to me, and begun composition of music, and he being gone I to settle my papers and things in my chamber, and so after dinner in the afternoon to the office, and thence to my chamber about several businesses of the office and my own, and then to supper and to bed. This day my brave vellum covers to keep pictures in, come in, which pleases me very much.
. This morning Mr. Berkenshaw came again, and after he had examined me and taught me something in my work, he and I went to breakfast in my chamber upon a collar of brawn, and after we had eaten, asked me whether we had not committed a fault in eating today; telling me that it is a fast day ordered by the Parliament, to pray for more seasonable weather;1295 it having hitherto been summer weather, that it is, both as to warmth and every other thing, just as if it were the middle of May or June, which do threaten a plague (as all men think) to follow, for so it was almost the last winter; and the whole year after hath been a very sickly time to this day.1296 I did not stir out of my house all day, but conned my music, and at night after supper to bed.
. Towards Cheapside; and in Paul’s Churchyard saw the funeral of my Lord Cornwallis, late Steward1297 of the King’s House, a bold profane talking man, go by, and thence I to the Paynter’s, and there paid him £6 for the two pictures, and 36s. for the two frames. From thence home, and Mr. Holliard and my brother Tom dined with me, and he did give me good advice about my health. In the afternoon at the office, and at night to Sir W. Batten, and there saw him and Captain Cock and Stokes play at cards, and afterwards supped with them. Stokes told us, that notwithstanding the country of Gambo1298 is so unhealthy, yet the people of the place live very long, so as the present king there is 150 years old, which they count by rains: because every year it rains continually four months together. He also told us, that the kings there have above 100 wives apiece, and offered him the choice of any of his wives to lie with, and so he did Captain Holmes. So home and to bed.
. To Westminster with Mr. Moore, and there, after several walks up and down to hear news, I met with Lany, the Frenchman, who told me that he had a letter from France last night, that tells him that my Lord Hinchingbroke is dead, and that he did die yesterday was sennight,1299 which do surprise me exceedingly (though we know that he hath been sick these two months), so I hardly ever was in my life; but being fearful that my Lady should come to hear it too suddenly, he and I went up to my Lord Crew’s, and there I dined with him, and after dinner we told him, and the whole family is much disturbed by it: so we consulted what to do to tell my Lady of it; and at last we thought of my going first to Mr. George Montagu’s to hear whether he had any news of it, which I did, and there found all his house in great heaviness for the death of his son, Mr. George Montagu,1300 who did go with our young gentlemen into France, and that they hear nothing at all of our young Lord; so believing that thence comes the mistake, I returned to my Lord Crew (in my way in the Piazza seeing a house on fire, and all the streets full of people to quench it), and told them of it, which they are much glad of, and conclude, and so I hope, that my Lord is well; and so I went to my Lady Sandwich, and told her all, and after much talk I parted thence with my wife, who had been there all the day, and so home to my music, and then to bed.
. This morning I went to Dr. Williams, and there he told me how T. Trice had spoke to him about getting me to meet that our difference might be made up between us by ourselves, which I am glad of, and have appointed Monday next to be the day. Thence to the Wardrobe, and there hearing it would be late before they went to dinner, I went and spent some time in Paul’s Churchyard among some books, and then returned thither, and there dined with my Lady and Sir H. Wright and his lady, all glad of yesterday’s mistake, and after dinner to the office, and then home and wrote letters by the post to my father, and by and by comes Mr. Moore to give me an account how Mr. Montagu1301 was gone away of a sudden with the fleet, in such haste that he hath left behind some servants, and many things of consequence; and among others, my Lord’s commission for Embassador. Whereupon he and I took coach, and to Whitehall to my Lord’s lodgings, to have spoke with Mr. Ralph Montagu,1302 his brother (and here we stayed talking with Sarah and the old man); but by and by hearing that he was in Covent Garden, we went thither: and at my Lady Harvy’s, his sister, I spoke with him, and he tells me that the commission is not left behind. And so I went thence by the same coach (setting down Mr. Moore) home, and after having wrote a letter to my Lord at 12 o’clock at night by post I went to bed.
. To church in the morning, where Mr. Mills preached upon Christ’s being offered up for our sins, and there proving the equity with what justice God would lay our sins upon his Son, he did make such a sermon (among other things pleading, from God’s universal sovereignty over all his creatures, the power he has of commanding what he would of his Son by the same rule as that he might have made us all, and the whole world from the beginning to have been in hell, arguing from the power the potter has over his clay), that I could have wished he had let it alone; and speaking again, the Father is now so satisfied by our security for our debt, that we might say at the last day as many of us as have interest in Christ’s death: Lord, we owe thee nothing, our debt is paid. We are not beholden to thee for anything, for thy debt is paid to thee to the full; which methinks were very bold words. Home to dinner, and then my wife and I on foot to see Mrs. Turner, who continues still sick, and thence into the Old Bailey by appointment to speak with Mrs. Norbury who lies at (it falls out) next door to my uncle Fenner’s; but as God would have it, we having no desire to be seen by his people, he having lately married a midwife that is old and ugly, and that hath already brought home to him a daughter and three children, we were let in at a back door. And here she offered me the refusal of some lands of hers at Brampton, if I have a mind to buy, which I answered her I was not at present provided to do. She took occasion to talk of her sister Wight’s making much of the Wights, who for namesake only my uncle do show great kindness to, so I fear may do us that are nearer to him a great deal of wrong, if he should die without children, which I am sorry for. Thence to my uncle Wight’s, and there we supped and were merry, though my uncle hath lately lost 200 or 300 at sea, and I am troubled to hear that the Turks do take more and more of our ships in the Straights, and that our merchants here in London do daily break, and are still likely to do so. So home, and I put in at Sir W. Batten’s, where Major Holmes was, and in our discourse and drinking I did give Sir J. Mennes’ health, which he swore he would not pledge, and called him knave and coward (upon the business of Holmes with the Swedish ship lately), which we all and I particularly did desire him to forbear, he being of our fraternity, which he took in great dudgeon, and I was vexed to hear him persist in calling him so, though I believe it to be true, but however he is to blame and I am troubled at it. So home and to prayers, and to bed.
. This morning Sir Wm. Batten and Penn and I did begin the examining the Treasurer’s accounts, the first time ever he had passed in the office, which is very long, and we were all at it till noon, and then to dinner, he providing a fine dinner for us, and we eat it at Sir W. Batten’s, where we were very merry, there being at table the Treasurer and we three, Mr. Wayth, Ferrer, Smith, Turner, and Mr. Morrice, the wine cooper, who this day did divide the two butts, which we four did send for, of sherry from Cales, and mine was put into a hogshead, and the vessel filled up with four gallons of Malaga wine, but what it will stand us in I know not: but it is the first great quantity of wine that I ever bought. And after dinner to the office all the afternoon till late at night, and then home, where my aunt and uncle Wight and Mrs. Anne Wight came to play at cards (at gleek which she taught me and my wife last week) and so to supper, and then to cards and so good night. Then I to my practice of music and then at 12 o’clock to bed. This day the workmen began to make me a sellar door out of the back yard, which will much please me.
. To the finishing of the Treasurer’s accounts this morning, and then to dinner again, and were merry as yesterday, and so home, and then to the office till night, and then home to write letters, and to practise my composition of music, and then to bed. We have heard nothing yet how far the fleet hath got toward Portugal, but the wind being changed again, we fear they are stopped, and may be beat back again to the coast of Ireland.
. After music-practice, to Whitehall, and thence to Westminster, in my way calling at Mr. George Montagu’s, to condole him the loss of his son, who was a fine gentleman, and it is no doubt a great discomfort to our two young gentlemen, his companions in France. After this discourse he told me, among other news, the great jealousies that are now in the Parliament House. The Lord Chancellor, it seems, taking occasion from this late plot to raise fears in the people, did project the raising of an army forthwith, besides the constant militia, thinking to make the Duke of York General thereof. But the House did, in very open terms, say, they were grown too wise to be fooled again into another army; and said they had found how that man that hath the command of an army is not beholden to anybody to make him King. There are factions (private ones at Court) about Madam Palmer; but what it is about I know not. But it is something about the King’s favour to her now that the Queen is coming. He told me, too, what sport the King and Court do make at Mr. Edward Montagu’s leaving his things behind him. But the Chancellor (taking it a little more seriously) did openly say to my Lord Chamberlain,1303 that had it been such a gallant as my Lord Mandeville1304 his son, it might have; been taken as a frolic; but for him that would be thought a grave coxcomb, it was very strange. Thence to the Hall, where I heard the House had ordered all the King’s murderers, that remain, to be executed, but Fleetwood1305 and Downs.1306 So to the Wardrobe and there dined, meeting my wife there, who went after dinner with my Lady to see Mr. George Montagu’s lady, and I to have a meeting by appointment with Tho. Trice and Dr. Williams in order to a treating about the difference between us, but I find there is no hopes of ending it but by law, and so after a pint or two of wine we parted. So to the Wardrobe for my wife again, and so home, and after writing and doing some things to bed.
. All the morning with Mr. Berkenshaw, and after him Mr. Moore in discourse of business, and in the afternoon by coach by invitacon to my uncle Fenner’s, where I found his new wife, a pitiful, old, ugly, illbred woman in a hat, a midwife. Here were many of his, and as many of her relations, sorry, mean people; and after choosing our gloves, we all went over to the Three Crane Tavern,1307 and though the best room in the house, in such a narrow dog-hole we were crammed, and I believe we were near forty, that it made me loathe my company and victuals; and a sorry poor dinner it was too. After dinner, I took aside the two Joyce’s, and took occasion to thank them for their kind thoughts for a wife for Tom: but that considering the possibility there is of my having no child, and what then I shall be able to leave him, I do think he may expect in that respect a wife with more money, and so desired them to think no more of it. Now the jest was Anthony mistakes and thinks that I did all this while encourage him (from my thoughts of favour to Tom) to pursue the match till Will Joyce tells him that he was mistaken. But how he takes it I know not, but I endeavoured to tell it him in the most respectful way that I could. This done with my wife by coach to my aunt Wight’s, where I left her, and I to the office, and that being done to her again, and sat playing at cards after supper till 12 at night, and so by moonshine home and to bed.
. This morning came my cousin Thos. Pepys the Executor, to speak with me, and I had much talk with him both about matters of money which my Lord Sandwich has of his and I am bond for, as also of my uncle Thomas, who I hear by him do stand upon very high terms. Thence to my painter’s, and there I saw our pictures in the frames, which please me well. Thence to the Wardrobe, where very merry with my Lady, and after dinner I sent for the pictures thither, and mine is well liked; but she is much offended with my wife’s, and I am of her opinion, that it do much wrong her; but I will have it altered. So home, in my way calling at Pope’s Head alley, and there bought me a pair of scissors and a brass square. So home and to my study and to bed.
. At home and the office all the morning. Walking in the garden1308 to give the gardener directions what to do this year (for I intend to have the garden handsome), Sir W. Penn came to me, and did break a business to me about removing his son from Oxford to Cambridge to some private college. I proposed Magdalene, but cannot name a tutor at present; but I shall think and write about it. Thence with him to the Trinity-house to dinner; where Sir Richard Brown1309 (one of the clerks of the Council, and who is much concerned against Sir N. Crisp’s1310 project of making a great sasse1311 in the King’s lands about Deptford, to be a wet dock to hold 200 sail of ships. But the ground, it seems, was long since given by the King to Sir Richard) was, and after the Trinity-house men had done their business, the master, Sir William Rider, came to bid us welcome; and so to dinner, where good cheer and discourse, but I eat a little too much beef, which made me sick, and so after dinner we went to the office, and there in a garden I went in the dark and vomited, whereby I did much ease my stomach. Thence to supper with my wife to Sir W. Penn’s, his daughter being come home today, not being very well, and so while we were at supper comes Mr. Moore with letters from my Lord Sandwich, speaking of his lying still at Tangier, looking for the fleet; which, we hope, is now in a good way thither. So home to write letters by the post tonight, and then again to Sir W. Penn’s to cards, where very merry, and so home and to bed.
. To church in the morning, and then home to dinner alone with my wife, and so both to church in the afternoon and home again, and so to read and talk with my wife, and to supper and to bed. It having been a very fine clear frosty day—God send us more of them!—for the warm weather all this winter makes us fear a sick summer. But thanks be to God, since my leaving drinking of wine, I do find myself much better and do mind my business better, and do spend less money, and less time lost in idle company.
. This morning, both Sir Williams and I by barge to Deptford-yard to give orders in businesses there; and called on several ships, also to give orders, and so to Woolwich, and there dined at Mr. Falconer’s of victuals we carried ourselves, and one Mr. Dekins, the father of my Morena,1312 of whom we have lately bought some hemp. That being done we went home again. This morning, going to take water upon Tower-hill, we met with three sleds standing there to carry my Lord Monson1313 and Sir H. Mildmay1314 and another,1315 to the gallows and back again, with ropes about their necks; which is to be repeated every year, this being the day of their sentencing the King.
. This morning (after my music practice with Mr. Berkenshaw) with my wife to the Paynter’s, where we stayed very late to have her picture mended, which at last is come to be very like her, and I think well done; but the Paynter, though a very honest man, I found to be very silly as to matter of skill in shadows, for we were long in discourse, till I was almost angry to hear him talk so simply. So home to dinner and then to the office, and so home for all night.
. To Westminster, and at the Parliament door spoke with Mr. Coventry about business, and so to the Wardrobe to dinner, and thence to several places, and so home, where I found Mrs. Penn and Mrs. Rooth and Smith, who played at cards with my wife, and I did give them a barrel of oysters, and had a pullet to supper for them, and when it was ready to come to table, the foolish girl had not the manners to stay and sup with me, but went away, which did vex me cruelly. So I saw her home, and then to supper, and so to music practice, and to bed.
. Fast-day for the murthering of the late King. I went to church, and Mr. Mills made a good sermon upon David’s words, “Who can lay his hands upon the Lord’s Anointed and be guiltless?”1316 So home and to dinner, and employed all the afternoon in my chamber, setting things and papers to rights, which pleased me very well, and I think I shall begin to take pleasure in being at home and minding my business. I pray God I may, for I find a great need thereof. At night to supper and to bed.
. All the morning, after music practice, in my cellar, ordering some alterations therein, being much pleased with my new door into the back yard. So to dinner, and all the afternoon thinking upon business. I did by night set many things in order, which pleased me well, and puts me upon a resolution of keeping within doors and minding my business and the business of the office, which I pray God I may put in practice. At night to bed.
February 1661–62
. This morning within till 11 o’clock, and then with Commissioner Pett to the office; and he stayed there writing, while I and Sir W. Penn walked in the garden talking about his business of putting his son to Cambridge; and to that end I intend to write tonight to Dr. Fairebrother, to give me an account of Mr. Burton1317 of Magdalene. Thence with Mr. Pett to the Paynter’s; and he likes our pictures very well, and so do I. Thence he and I to the Countess of Sandwich, to lead him to her to kiss her hands: and dined with her, and told her the news (which Sir W. Penn told me today) that express is come from my Lord with letters, that by a great storm and tempest the mole of Argier1318 is broken down, and many of their ships sunk into the mole. So that God Almighty hath now ended that unlucky business for us; which is very good news. After dinner to the office, where we stayed late, and so I home, and late writing letters to my father and Dr. Fairebrother, and an angry letter to my brother John for not writing to me, and so to bed.
. To church in the morning, and then home and dined with my wife, and so both of us to church again, where we had an Oxford man give us a most impertinent sermon upon “Cast your bread upon the waters,”1319 etc. So home to read, supper, and to prayers, and then to bed.
. After music practice I went to the office, and there with the two Sir Williams all the morning about business, and at noon I dined with Sir W. Batten with many friends more, it being his wedding-day, and among other frolics, it being their third year, they had three pies, whereof the middlemost was made of an ovall form, in an ovall hole within the other two, which made much mirth, and was called the middle piece; and above all the rest, we had great striving to steal a spooneful out of it; and I remember Mrs. Mills, the minister’s wife, did steal one for me and did give it me; and to end all, Mrs. Shippman did fill the pie full of white wine, it holding at least a pint and a half, and did drink it off for a health to Sir William and my Lady, it being the greatest draught that ever I did see a woman drink in my life. Before we had dined came Sir G. Carteret, and we went all three to the office and did business there till night, and then to Sir W. Batten again, and I went along with my lady and the rest of the gentlewomen to Major Holmes’s, and there we had a fine supper, among others, excellent lobsters, which I never eat at this time of the year before. The Major hath good lodgings at the Trinity House. Here we stayed, and at last home, and, being in my chamber, we do hear great noise of mirth at Sir William Batten’s, tearing the ribbons from my Lady and him.1320 So I to bed.
. To Westminster Hall, where it was full term. Here all the morning, and at noon to my Lord Crew’s, where one Mr. Templer1321 (an ingenious man and a person of honour he seems to be) dined; and, discoursing of the nature of serpents, he told us some that in the waste places of Lancashire do grow to a great bigness, and that do feed upon larks, which they take thus: They observe when the lark is soared to the highest, and do crawl till they come to be just underneath them; and there they place themselves with their mouths uppermost, and there, as is conceived, they do eject poison up to the bird; for the bird do suddenly come down again in its course of a circle, and falls directly into the mouth of the serpent; which is very strange. He is a great traveller; and, speaking of the tarantula, he says that all the harvest long (about which times they are most busy) there are fiddlers go up and down the fields everywhere, in expectation of being hired by those that are stung. Thence to the office, where late, and so to my chamber and then to bed, my mind a little troubled how to put things in order to my advantage in the office in readiness to the Duke’s orders lately sent to us, and of which we are to treat at the office tomorrow morning. This afternoon, going into the office, one met me and did serve a subpœnâ upon me for one Field,1322 whom we did commit to prison the other day for some ill words he did give the office. The like he had for others, but we shall scour him for it.
. Early at the office. Sir G. Carteret, the two Sir Williams and myself all alone reading of the Duke’s institutions for the settlement of our office, whereof we read as much as concerns our own duties,1323 and left the other officers for another time. I did move several things for my purpose, and did ease my mind. At noon Sir W. Penn dined with me, and after dinner he and I and my wife to the Theatre, and went in, but being very early we went out again to the next door, and drank some Rhenish wine and sugar, and so to the House again, and there saw Rule a Wife and Have a Wife very well done. And here also I did look long upon my Lady Castlemaine, who, notwithstanding her late sickness, continues a great beauty. Home and supped with Sir W. Penn and played at cards with him, and so home and to bed, putting some cataplasm to my … which begins to swell again.
. At my music practice, and so into my cellar to my workmen, and I am very much pleased with my alteration there. About noon comes my uncle Thomas to me to ask for his annuity, and I did tell him my mind freely. We had some high words, but I was willing to end all in peace, and so I made him dine with me, and I have hopes to work my end upon him. After dinner the barber trimmed me, and so to the office, where I do begin to be exact in my duty there and exacting my privileges, and shall continue to do so. None but Sir W. Batten and me here tonight, and so we broke up early, and I home and to my chamber to put things in order, and so to bed. My swelling I think do begin to go away again.
. Among my workmen this morning. By and by by water to Westminster with Commissioner Pett (landing my wife at Black Friars) where I hear the prisoners in the Tower that are to die are come to the Parliament-house this morning. To the Wardrobe to dinner with my Lady; where a civet cat, parrot, apes, and many other things are come from my Lord by Captain Hill,1324 who dined with my Lady with us today. Thence to the Paynter’s, and am well pleased with our pictures. So by coach home, where I found the joiners putting up my chimneypiece in the dining room, which pleases me well, only the frame for a picture they have made so massy and heavy that I cannot tell what to do with it. This evening came my she cousin Porter1325 to see us (the first time that we had seen her since we came to this end of the town) and after her Mr. Hart, who both stayed with us a pretty while and so went away. By and by, hearing that Mr. Turner was much troubled at what I do in the office, and do give ill words to Sir W. Penn and others of me, I am much troubled in my mind, and so went to bed; not that I fear him at all, but the natural aptness I have to be troubled at anything that crosses me.
. All the morning in the cellar with the colliers, removing the coals out of the old coal hole into the new one, which cost me 8s. the doing; but now the cellar is done and made clean, it do please me exceedingly, as much as anything that was ever yet done to my house. I pray God keep me from setting my mind too much upon it. About 3 o’clock the colliers having done I went up to dinner (my wife having often urged me to come, but my mind is so set upon these things that I cannot but be with the workmen to see things done to my mind, which if I am not there is seldom done), and so to the office, and thence to talk with Sir W. Penn, walking in the dark in the garden some turns, he telling me of the ill management of our office, and how Wood the timber merchant and others were very knaves, which I am apt to believe. Home and wrote letters to my father and my brother John, and so to bed. Being a little chillish, intending to take physic tomorrow morning.
. I took physic this day, and was all day in my chamber, talking with my wife about her laying out of £20, which I had long since promised her to lay out in clothes against Easter for herself, and composing some airs, God forgive me! At night to prayers and to bed.
. Music practice a good while, then to Paul’s Churchyard, and there I met with Dr. Fuller’s England’s Worthys,1326 the first time that I ever saw it; and so I sat down reading in it, till it was two o’clock before I, thought of the time going, and so I rose and went home to dinner, being much troubled that (though he had some discourse with me about my family and arms) he says nothing at all, nor mentions us either in Cambridgeshire or Norfolk. But I believe, indeed, our family were never considerable. At home all the afternoon, and at night to bed.
. Music, then my brother Tom came, and spoke to him about selling of Sturtlow,1327 he consents to, and I think will be the best for him, considering that he needs money, and has no mind to marry. Dined at home, and at the office in the afternoon. So home to music, my mind being full of our alterations in the garden, and my getting of things in the office settled to the advantage of my clerks, which I found Mr. Turner much troubled at, and myself am not quiet in mind. But I hope by degrees to bring it to it. At night begun to compose songs, and begin with “Gaze not on Swans.”1328 So to bed.
. This morning, till four in the afternoon, I spent abroad, doing of many and considerable businesses at Mr. Phillips the lawyer, with Prior, Westminster, my Lord Crew’s, Wardrobe, etc., and so home about the time of day to dinner with my mind very highly contented with my day’s work, wishing I could do so every day. Then to my chamber drawing up writings, in expectation of my uncle Thomas coming. So to my music and then to bed. This night I had half a 100 poor Jack1329 sent me by Mr. Adis.
. After music comes my cousin Tom Pepys the executor, and he did stay with me above two hours discoursing about the difference between my uncle Thomas and me, and what way there may be to make it up, and I have hopes we may do good of it for all this. Then to dinner, and then came Mr. Kennard, and he and I and Sir W. Penn went up and down his house to view what may be the contrivance and alterations there to the best advantage. So home, where Mr. Blackburne (whom I have not seen a long time) was come to speak with me, and among other discourse he do tell me plain of the corruption of all our Treasurer’s officers, and that they hardly pay any money under ten percent; and that the other day, for a mere assignation of £200 to some counties, they took £15 which is very strange. So to the office till night, and then home and to write by the post about many businesses, and so to bed. Last night died the Queen of Bohemia.1330
. I did this day purposely shun to be seen at Sir W. Batten’s, because I would not have his daughter to be my Valentine, as she was the last year, there being no great friendship between us now, as formerly. This morning in comes W. Bowyer, who was my wife’s Valentine, she having, at which I made good sport to myself, held her hands all the morning, that she might not see the paynters that were at work in gilding my chimneypiece and pictures in my dining room. By and by she and I by coach with him to Westminster, by the way leaving at Tom’s and my wife’s father’s lodgings each of them some poor Jack, and some she carried to my father Bowyer’s, where she stayed while I walked in the Hall, and there among others met with Serjt. Pierce, and I took him aside to drink a cup of ale, and he told me the basest thing of Mr. Montagu’s and his man Eschar’s going away in debt, that I am troubled and ashamed, but glad to be informed of. He thinks he has left £1,000 for my Lord to pay, and that he has not laid out £3,000 out of the £5,000 for my Lord’s use, and is not able to make an account of any of the money. My wife and I to dinner to the Wardrobe, and then to talk with my Lady, and so by coach, it raining hard, home, and so to do business and to bed.
. With the two Sir Williams to the Trinity-house; and there in their society had the business debated of Sir Nicholas Crisp’s sasse at Deptford. Then to dinner, and after dinner I was sworn a Younger Brother;1331 Sir W. Rider being Deputy Master for my Lord of Sandwich; and after I was sworn, all the Elder Brothers shake me by the hand: it is their custom, it seems. Hence to the office, and so to Sir Wm. Batten’s all three, and there we stayed till late talking together in complaint of the Treasurer’s instruments. Above all Mr. Waith, at whose child’s christening our wives and we should have been today, but none of them went and I am glad of it, for he is a very rogue, So home, and drew up our report for Sir N. Crispe’s sasse, and so to bed. No news yet of our fleet gone to Tangier, which we now begin to think long.
. To church this morning, and so home and to dinner. In the afternoon I walked to St. Bride’s to church, to hear Dr. Jacomb preach upon the recovery, and at the request of Mrs. Turner, who came abroad this day, the first time since her long sickness. He preached upon David’s words, “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord,” and made a pretty good sermon, though not extraordinary. After sermon I led her home, and sat with her, and there was the Dr. got before us; but strange what a command he hath got over Mrs. Turner, who was so careful to get him what he would, after his preaching, to drink, and he, with a cunning gravity, knows how to command, and had it, and among other things told us that he heard more of the Common Prayer this afternoon (while he stood in the vestry, before he went up into the pulpit) than he had heard this twenty years. Thence to my uncle Wight to meet my wife, and with other friends of hers and his met by chance we were very merry, and supped, and so home, not being very well through my usual pain got by cold. So to prayers and to bed, and there had a good draught of mulled ale brought me.
. This morning, both Sir Williams, myself, and Captain Cocke and Captain Tinker of the Convertine,1332 which we are going to look upon (being intended to go with these ships fitting for the East Indies), down to Deptford; and thence, after being on shipboard, to Woolwich, and there eat something. The Sir Williams being unwilling to eat flesh,1333 Captain Cocke and I had a breast of veal roasted. And here I drank wine upon necessity, being ill for want of it, and I find reason to fear that by my too sudden leaving off wine, I do contract many evils upon myself. Going and coming we played at gleek, and I won 9s. 6d. clear, the most that ever I won in my life. I pray God it may not tempt me to play again. Being come home again we went to the Dolphin, where Mr. Alcock and my Lady and Mrs. Martha Batten came to us, and after them many others (as it always is where Sir W. Batten goes), and there we had some pullets to supper. I eat though I was not very well, and after that left them, and so home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, then up to the office (we having changed our days to Tuesday and Saturday in the morning and Thursday at night), and by and by with Sir W. Penn, Mr. Kennard, and others to survey his house again, and to contrive for the alterations there, which will be handsome I think. After we had done at the office, I walked to the Wardrobe, where with Mr. Moore and Mr. Lewis Phillips1334 after dinner we did agree upon the agreement between us and Prior and I did seal and sign it. Having agreed with Sir Wm. Penn and my wife to meet them at the Opera, and finding by my walking in the streets, which were everywhere full of brick-bats and tiles flung down by the extraordinary wind the last night1335 (such as hath not been in memory before, unless at the death of the late Protector), that it was dangerous to go out of doors; and hearing how several persons had been killed today by the fall of things in the streets, and that the pageant in Fleetstreet is most of it blown down, and hath broke down part of several houses, among others Dick Brigden’s; and that one Lady Sanderson, a person of quality in Covent Garden, was killed by the fall of the house, in her bed, last night; I sent my boy home to forbid them to go forth. But he bringing me word that they are gone, I went thither and there saw The Law Against Lovers,1336 a good play and well performed, especially the little girl’s (whom I never saw act before) dancing and singing; and were it not for her, the loss of Roxalana1337 would spoil the house. So home and to music, and so to bed.
. Music practice: thence to the Trinity House to conclude upon our report of Sir N. Crisp’s project, who came to us to answer objections, but we did give him no ear, but are resolved to stand to our report; though I could wish we had shown him more justice and had heard him. Thence to the Wardrobe and dined with my Lady, and talked after dinner as I used to do, and so home and up to my chamber to put things in order to my good content, and so to music practice.
. This morning came Mr. Child to see me, and set me something to my Theorbo, and by and by come letters from Tangier from my Lord, telling me how, upon a great defete given to the Portuguese there by the Moors, he had put in 300 men into the town, and so he is in possession, of which we are very glad, because now the Spaniard’s designs of hindering our getting the place are frustrated. I went with the letter enclosed to my Lord Chancellor to the House of Lords, and did give it him in the House. And thence to the Wardrobe with my Lady’s, and there could not stay dinner, but went by promise to Mr. Savill’s, and there sat the first time for my picture in little, which pleaseth me well. So to the office till night and then home.1338
. All the morning putting things in my house in order, and packing up glass to send into the country to my father, and books to my brother John, and then to my Lord Crew’s to dinner; and thence to Mr. Lewes Philip’s chamber, and there at noon with him for business, and received £80 upon Jaspar Trice’s account, and so home with it, and so to my chamber for all this evening, and then to bed.
. At the office busy all the morning, and thence to dinner to my Lady Sandwich’s, and thence with Mr. Moore to our Attorney, Wellpoole’s, and there found that Godfry has basely taken out a judgment against us for the £40, for which I am vexed. And thence to buy a pair of stands and a hanging shelf for my wife’s chamber, and so home, and thither came Mr. Savill with the pictures, and we hung them up in our dining room. It comes now to appear very handsome with all my pictures. This evening I wrote letters to my father; among other things acquainting him with the unhappy accident which hath happened lately to my Lord of Dorset’s two oldest sons, who, with two Belasses and one Squire Wentworth, were lately apprehended for killing and robbing of a tanner about Newington1339 on Wednesday last, and are all now in Newgate. I am much troubled for it, and for the grief and disgrace it brings to their families and friends.1340 After this, having got a very great cold, I got something warm tonight, and so to bed.
. My cold being increased, I stayed at home all day, pleasing myself with my dining room, now graced with pictures, and reading of Dr. Fuller’s Worthys. So I spent the day, and at night comes Sir W. Penn and supped and talked with me. This day by God’s mercy I am 29 years of age, and in very good health, and like to live and get an estate; and if I have a heart to be contented, I think I may reckon myself as happy a man as any is in the world, for which God be praised. So to prayers and to bed.
. Long with Mr. Berkenshaw in the morning at my music practice; finishing my song of “Gaze not on Swans,” in two parts, which pleases me well, and I did give him £5 for this month or five weeks that he hath taught me, which is a great deal of money and troubled me to part with it. Thence to the Paynter’s, and set again for my picture in little, and thence over the water to Southwark to Mr. Berkenshaw’s house, and there sat with him all the afternoon, he showing me his great card of the body of music, which he cries up for a rare thing, and I do believe it cost much pains, but is not so useful as he would have it. Then we sat down and set “Nulla, nulla sit formido,” and he has set it very finely. So home and to supper, and then called Will up, and chid him before my wife for refusing to go to church with the maids yesterday, and telling his mistress that he would not be made a slave of, which vexes me. So to bed.
. All the morning at the office. At noon with Mr. Moore to the Coffeehouse, where among other things the great talk was of the effects of this late great wind; and I heard one say that he had five great trees standing together blown down; and, beginning to lop them, one of them, as soon as the lops were cut off, did, by the weight of the root, rise again and fasten. We have letters from the forest of Deane, that above 1,000 Oaks and as many beeches are blown down in one walk there. And letters from my father tell me of £20 hurt done to us at Brampton. This day in the news-book I find that my Lord Buckhurst1341 and his fellows have printed their case as they did give it in upon examination to a justice of Peace, wherein they make themselves a very good tale that they were in pursuit of thieves, and that they took this man for one of them, and so killed him; and that he himself confessed it was the first time of his robbing; and that he did pay dearly for it, for he was a dead man. But I doubt things will be proved otherwise, as they say. Home to dinner, and by and by comes Mr. Hunt and his wife to see us and stayed a good, while with us. Then parted, and I to my study in the office. The first time since the alteration that I have begun to do business myself there, and I think I shall be well pleased with it. At night home to supper and to bed.
. Mr. Berkenshaw with me all the morning composing of music to “This cursed jealousy, what is it,” a song of Sir W. Davenant’s. After dinner I went to my Bookseller’s, W. Joyce’s, and several other places to pay my debts and do business, I being resolved to cast up my accounts within a day or two, for I fear I have run out too far. In coming home I met with a face I knew and challenged him, thinking it had been one of the Theatre musicians, and did enquire for a song of him, but finding it a mistake, and that it was a gentleman that comes sometimes to the office, I was much ashamed, but made a pretty good excuse that I took him for a gentleman of Gray’s Inn who sings well, and so parted. Home for all night and set things in order and so to bed.
. This morning came Mr. Berkenshaw to me and in our discourse I, finding that he cries up his rules for most perfect (though I do grant them to be very good, and the best I believe that ever yet were made), and that I could not persuade him to grant wherein they were somewhat lame, we fell to angry words, so that in a pet he flung out of my chamber and I never stopped him, having intended to put him off today, whether this had happened or no, because I think I have all the rules that he hath to give. And so there remains not the practice now to do me good, and it is not for me to continue with him at £5 per month. So I settled to put all his rules in fair order in a book, which was my work all the morning till dinner. After dinner to the office till late at night, and so home to write by the post, and so to bed.
. The boy failing to call us up as I commanded, I was angry, and resolved to whip him for that and many other faults, today. Early with Sir W. Penn by coach to Whitehall, to the Duke of York’s chamber, and there I presented him from my Lord a fine map of Tangier, done by one Captain Beckman,1342 a Swede, that is with my Lord. We stayed looking it over a great while with the Duke after he was ready. Thence I by water to the Painter’s, and there sat again for my face in little, and thence home to dinner, and so at home all the afternoon. Then came Mr. Moore and stayed and talked with me, and then I to the office, there being all the Admiralty papers brought hither this afternoon from Mr. Blackburne’s, where they have lain all this while ever since my coming into this office. This afternoon Mr. Hater received half a year’s salary for me, so that now there is not owing me but this quarter, which will be out the next month. Home, and to be as good as my word, I bade Will get me a rod, and he and I called the boy up to one of the upper rooms of the Comptroller’s house towards the garden, and there I reckoned all his faults, and whipped him soundly, but the rods were so small that I fear they did not much hurt to him, but only to my arm, which I am already, within a quarter of an hour, not able to stir almost. After supper to bed.
March 1661–62
. This morning I paid Sir W. Batten £40, which I have owed him this half year, having borrowed it of him. Then to the office all the morning, so dined at home, and after dinner comes my uncle Thomas, with whom I had some high words of difference, but ended quietly, though I fear I shall do no good by fair means upon him. Thence my wife and I by coach, first to see my little picture that is a drawing, and thence to the Opera, and there saw Romeo and Juliet, the first time it was ever acted; but it is a play of itself the worst that ever I heard in my life, and the worst acted that ever I saw these people do,1343 and I am resolved to go no more to see the first time of acting, for they were all of them out more or less. Thence home, and after supper and wrote by the post, I settled to what I had long intended, to cast up my accounts with myself, and after much pains to do it and great fear, I do find that I am £500 in money beforehand in the world, which I was afraid I was not, but I find that I had spent above £250 this last half year, which troubles me much, but by God’s blessing I am resolved to take up, having furnished myself with all things for a great while, and tomorrow to think upon some rules and obligations upon myself to walk by. So with my mind eased of a great deal of trouble, though with no great content to find myself above £100 worse now than I was half a year ago, I went to bed.
. With my mind much eased talking long in bed with my wife about our frugall life for the time to come, proposing to her what I could and would do if I were worth £2,000, that is, be a knight, and keep my coach, which pleased her,1344 and so I do hope we shall hereafter live to save something, for I am resolved to keep myself by rules from expenses. To church in the morning: none in the pew but myself. So home to dinner, and after dinner came Sir William and talked with me till church time, and then to church, where at our going out I was at a loss by Sir W. Penn’s putting me upon it whether to take my wife or Mrs. Martha (who alone was there), and I began to take my wife, but he jogged me, and so I took Martha, and led her down before him and my wife. So set her at home, and Sir William and my wife and I to walk in the garden, and anon hearing that Sir G. Carteret had sent to see whether we were at home or no, Sir William and I went to his house, where we waited a good while, they being at prayers, and by and by we went up to him; there the business was about hastening the East India ships, about which we are to meet tomorrow in the afternoon. So home to my house, and Sir William supped with me, and so to bed.
. All the morning at home about business with my brother Tom, and then with Mr. Moore, and then I set to make some strict rules for my future practice in my expenses, which I did bind myself in the presence of God by oath to observe upon penalty therein set down, and I do not doubt but hereafter to give a good account of my time and to grow rich, for I do find a great deal more of content in these few days, that I do spend well about my business, than in all the pleasure of a whole week, besides the trouble which I remember I always have after that for the expense of my money. Dined at home, and then up to my chamber again about business, and so to the office about despatching of the East India ships, where we stayed till 8 at night, and then after I had been at Sir W. Penn’s awhile discoursing with him and Mr. Kenard the joiner about the new building in his house, I went home, where I found a vessel of oysters sent me from Chatham, so I fell to eat some and then to supper, and so after the barber had done to bed. I am told that this day the Parliament hath voted 2s. per annum for every chimney in England, as a constant revenue forever to the Crown.1345
. At the office all the morning, dined at home at noon, and then to the office again in the afternoon to put things in order there, my mind being very busy in settling the office to ourselves, I having now got distinct offices for the other two. By and by Sir W. Penn and I and my wife in his coach to Moore Fields,1346 where we walked a great while, though it was no fair weather and cold; and after our walk we went to the Pope’s Head,1347 and eat cakes and other fine things, and so home, and I up to my chamber to read and write, and so to bed.
. In the morning to the Painter’s about my little picture. Thence to Tom’s about business, and so to the pewterer’s, to buy a poore’s-box to put my forfeits in, upon breach of my late vows. So to the Wardrobe and dined, and thence home and to my office, and there sat looking over my papers of my voyage, when we fetched over the King, and tore so many of these that were worth nothing, as filled my closet as high as my knees. I stayed doing this till 10 at night, and so home and to bed.
. Up early, my mind full of business, then to the office, where the two Sir Williams and I spent the morning passing the victualler’s accounts, the first I have had to do withal. Then home, where my Uncle Thomas (by promise and his son Tom) were come to give me his answer whether he would have me go to law or arbitrac̃on with him, but he is unprovided to answer me, and desires two days more. I left them to dine with my wife, and myself to Mr. Gauden and the two knights at dinner at the Dolphin, and thence after dinner to the office back again till night, we having been these four or five days very full of business, and I thank God I am well pleased with it, and hope I shall continue of that temper, which God grant. So after a little being at Sir W. Batten’s with Sir G. Carteret talking, I went home, and so to my chamber, and then to bed, my mind somewhat troubled about Brampton affairs. This night my new camlet riding coat to my coloured cloth suit came home. More news today of our losses at Brampton by the late storm.
. Early to Whitehall to the chapel, where by Mr. Blagrave’s means I got into his pew, and heard Dr. Creeton,1348 the great Scotchman, preach before the King, and Duke and Duchess, upon the words of Micah:—“Roll yourselves in dust.” He made a most learned sermon upon the words; but, in his application, the most comical man that ever I heard in my life. Just such a man as Hugh Peters; saying that it had been better for the poor Cavalier never to have come with the King into England again; for he that hath the impudence to deny obedience to the lawful magistrate, and to swear to the oath of allegiance, etc., was better treated nowadays in Newgate, than a poor Royalist, that hath suffered all his life for the King, is at Whitehall among his friends. He discoursed much against a man’s lying with his wife in Lent, saying that he might be as incontinent during that time with his own wife as at another time in another man’s bed. Thence with Mr. Moore to Whitehall and walked a little, and so to the Wardrobe to dinner, and so home to the office about business till late at night by myself, and so home and to bed.
. By coach with both Sir Williams to Westminster; this being a great day there in the House to pass the business for chimney-money, which was done. In the Hall I met with Serjeant Pierce; and he and I to drink a cup of ale at the Swan, and there he told me how my Lady Monk1349 hath disposed of all the places which Mr. Edwd. Montagu hoped to have had, as he was Master of the Horse to the Queen; which I am afraid will undo him, because he depended much upon the profit of what he should make by these places. He told me, also, many more scurvy stories of him and his brother Ralph,1350 which troubles me to hear of persons of honour as they are. About one o’clock with both Sir Williams and another, one Sir Rich. Branes, to the Trinity House, but came after they had dined, so we had something got ready for us. Here Sir W. Batten was taken with a fit of coughing that lasted a great while and made him very ill, and so he went home sick upon it. Sir W. Penn and I to the office, whither afterward came Sir G. Carteret; and we sent for Sir Thos. Allen, one of the Aldermen of the City,1351 about the business of one Colonel Appesley, whom we had taken counterfeiting of bills with all our hands and the officers of the yards, so well counterfeited that I should never have mistrusted them. We stayed about this business at the office till ten at night, and at last did send him with a constable to the Counter; and did give warrants for the seizing of a complice of his, one Blinkinsopp. So home and wrote to my father, and so to bed.
. Church in the morning: dined at home, then to Church again and heard Mr. Naylor, whom I knew formerly of Keye’s College, make a most eloquent sermon. Thence to Sir W. Batten’s to see how he did, then to walk an hour with Sir W. Penn in the garden: then he in to supper with me at my house, and so to prayers and to bed.
. At the office doing business all the morning, and my wife being gone to buy some things in the city I dined with Sir W. Batten, and in the afternoon met Sir W. Penn at the Treasury Office, and there paid off the Guift, where late at night, and so called in and eat a bit at Sir W. Batten’s again, and so home and to bed, tomorrow being washing day.
. At the office all the morning, and all the afternoon rummaging of papers in my chamber, and tearing some and sorting others till late at night, and so to bed, my wife being not well all this day. This afternoon Mrs. Turner and The. came to see me, her mother not having been abroad many a day before, but now is pretty well again and has made me one of the first visits.
. At the office from morning till night putting of papers in order, that so I may have my office in an orderly condition. I took much pains in sorting and folding of papers. Dined at home, and there came Mrs. Goldsborough about her old business, but I did give her a short answer and sent away. This morning we had news from Mr. Coventry, that Sir G. Downing1352 (like a perfidious rogue, though the action is good and of service to the King,1353 yet he cannot with any good conscience do it) hath taken Okey, Corbet, and Barkestead1354 at Delfe, in Holland, and sent them home in the Blackmore. Sir W. Penn, talking to me this afternoon of what a strange thing it is for Downing to do this, he told me of a speech he made to the Lords States of Holland, telling them to their faces that he observed that he was not received with the respect and observance now, that he was when he came from the traitor and rebel Cromwell:1355 by whom, I am sure, he hath got all he hath in the world—and they know it too.1356
. All day, either at the office or at home, busy about business till late at night, I having lately followed my business much, I find great pleasure in it, and a growing content.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Sir W. Penn and I making a bargain with the workmen about his house, at which I did see things not so well contracted for as I would have, and I was vexed and made him so too to see me so critical in the agreement. Home to dinner. In the afternoon came the German Dr. Kuffler,1357 to discourse with us about his engine to blow up ships. We doubted not the matter of fact, it being tried in Cromwell’s time, but the safety of carrying them in ships; but he do tell us, that when he comes to tell the King his secret (for none but the Kings, successively, and their heirs must know it), it will appear to be of no danger at all. We concluded nothing; but shall discourse with the Duke of York tomorrow about it. In the afternoon, after we had done with him, I went to speak with my uncle Wight and found my aunt to have been ill a good while of a miscarriage, I stayed and talked with her a good while. Thence home, where I found that Sarah the maid had been very ill all day, and my wife fears that she will have an ague, which I am much troubled for. Thence to my lute, upon which I have not played a week or two, and trying over the two songs of “Nulla, nulla,” etc., and “Gaze not on Swans,” which Mr. Berkenshaw set for me a little while ago, I find them most incomparable songs as he has set them, of which I am not a little proud, because I am sure none in the world has them but myself, not so much as he himself that set them. So to bed.
. With Sir G. Carteret and both the Sir Williams at Whitehall to wait on the Duke in his chamber, which we did about getting money for the Navy and other things. So back again to the office all the morning. Thence to the Exchange to hire a ship for the Maderas, but could get none. Then home to dinner, and Sir G. Carteret and I all the afternoon by ourselves upon business in the office till late at night. So to write letters and home to bed. Troubled at my maid’s being ill.
. This morning, till churches were done, I spent going from one church to another and hearing a bit here and a bit there. So to the Wardrobe to dinner with the young Ladies, and then into my Lady’s chamber and talked with her a good while, and so walked to Whitehall, an hour or two in the Park, which is now very pleasant. Here the King and Duke came to see their fowl play.1358 The Duke took very civil notice of me. So walked home, calling at Tom’s, giving him my resolution about my boy’s livery. Here I spent an hour walking in the garden with Sir W. Penn, and then my wife and I thither to supper, where his son William is at home not well. But all things, I fear, do not go well with them; they look discontentedly, but I know not what ails them. Drinking of cold small beer here I fell ill, and was forced to go out and vomit, and so was well again and went home by and by to bed. Fearing that Sarah would continue ill, wife and I removed this night to our matted chamber and lay there.
. All the morning at the office by myself about setting things in order there, and so at noon to the Exchange to see and be seen, and so home to dinner and then to the office again till night, and then home and after supper and reading a while to bed. Last night the Blackmore pink1359 brought the three prisoners, Barkestead, Okey, and Corbet, to the Tower, being taken at Delfe in Holland; where, the Captain tells me, the Dutch were a good while before they could be persuaded to let them go, they being taken prisoners in their land. But Sir G. Downing would not be answered so: though all the world takes notice of him for a most ungrateful villain for his pains.
. All the morning at the office with Sir W. Penn. Dined at home, and Luellin and Blurton with me. After dinner to the office again, where Sir G. Carteret and we stayed awhile, and then Sir W. Penn and I on board some of the ships now fitting for East Indies and Portugal, to see in what forwardness they are, and so back home again, and I write to my father by the post about Brampton Court, which is now coming on. But that which troubles me is that my Father has now got an ague that I fear may endanger his life. So to bed.
. All the morning and afternoon at my office putting things in order, and in the evening I do begin to digest my uncle the Captain’s papers into one book, which I call my Brampton book, for the clearer understanding things how they are with us. So home and supper and to bed. This noon came a letter from T. Pepys, the turner, in answer to one of mine the other day to him, wherein I did cheque him for not coming to me, as he had promised, with his and his father’s resolucion about the difference between us. But he writes to me in the very same slighting terms that I did to him, without the least respect at all, but word for word as I did him, which argues a high and noble spirit in him, though it troubles me a little that he should make no more of my anger, yet I cannot blame him for doing so, he being the elder brother’s son, and not depending upon me at all.1360
. At my office all the morning, at noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, and then all the afternoon at the office till late at night, and so home and to bed, my mind in good ease when I mind business, which methinks should be a good argument to me never to do otherwise.
. With Sir W. Batten by water to Whitehall, and he to Westminster. I went to see Sarah and my Lord’s lodgings, which are now all in dirt, to be repaired against my Lord’s coming from sea with the Queen. Thence to Westminster Hall; and there walked up and down and heard the great difference that hath been between my Lord Chancellor and my Lord of Bristol, about a proviso that my Lord Chancellor would have brought into the Bill for Conformity, that it shall be in the power of the King, when he sees fit, to dispense with the Act of Conformity; and though it be carried in the House of Lords,1361 yet it is believed it will hardly pass in the Commons. Here I met with Chetwind, Parry, and several others, and went to a little house behind the Lords’ house to drink some wormwood ale, which doubtless was a bawdy house, the mistress of the house having the look and dress. Here we stayed till noon and then parted, I by water to the Wardrobe to meet my wife, but my Lady and they had dined, and so I dined with the servants, and then up to my Lady, and there stayed and talked a good while, and then parted and walked into Cheapside, and there saw my little picture, for which I am to sit again the next week. So home, and stayed late writing at my office, and so home and to bed, troubled that now my boy is also fallen sick of an ague we fear.
. At the office all the morning. At noon Sir Williams both and I by water down to the Lewes, Captain Dekins, his ship, a merchantman, where we met the owners, Sir John Lewes1362 and Alderman Lewes, and several other great merchants; among others one Jefferys, a merry man that is a fumbler, and he and I called brothers, and he made all the mirth in the company. We had a very fine dinner, and all our wives’ healths, with seven or nine guns apiece; and exceeding merry we were, and so home by barge again, and I vexed to find Griffin leave the office door open, and had a design to have carried away the screw or the carpet in revenge to him, but at last I would not, but sent for him and chid him, and so to supper and to bed, having drank a great deal of wine.
. This morning was brought me my boy’s fine livery, which is very handsome, and I do think to keep to black and gold lace upon gray, being the colour of my arms, forever. To church in the morning, and so home with Sir W. Batten, and there eat some boiled great oysters, and so home, and while I was at dinner with my wife I was sick, and was forced to vomit up my oysters again, and then I was well. By and by a coach came to call me by my appointment, and so my wife and I carried to Westminster to Mrs. Hunt’s, and I to Whitehall, Worcester House, and to my Lord Treasurer’s to have found Sir G. Carteret, but missed in all these places. So back to Whitehall, and there met with Captn. Isham, this day come from Lisbon, with letters from the Queen to the King. And he did give me letters which speak that our fleet is all at Lisbon;1363 and that the Queen do not intend to embark sooner than tomorrow come fortnight. So having sent for my wife, she and I to my Lady Sandwich, and after a short visit away home. She home, and I to Sir G. Carteret’s about business, and so home too, and Sarah having her fit we went to bed.
. Early Sir G. Carteret, both Sir Williams and I on board the Experiment, to dispatch her away, she being to carry things to the Madeiras with the East Indy fleet. Here (Sir W. Penn going to Deptford to send more hands) we stayed till noon talking, and eating and drinking a good ham of English bacon, and having put things in very good order home, where I found Jane, my old maid, come out of the country, and I have a mind to have her again. By and by comes La Belle Pierce to see my wife, and to bring her a pair of peruques of hair, as the fashion now is for ladies to wear; which are pretty, and are of my wife’s own hair, or else I should not endure them. After a good whiles stay, I went to see if any play was acted, and I found none upon the post, it being Passion week.1364 So home again, and took water with them towards Westminster; but as we put off with the boat Griffin came after me to tell me that Sir G. Carteret and the rest were at the office, so I intended to see them through the bridge and come back again, but the tide being against us, when we were almost through we were carried back again with much danger, and Mrs. Pierce was much afeard and frightened. So I carried them to the other side and walked to the Beare,1365 and sent them away, and so back again myself to the office, but finding nobody there I went again to the Old Swan, and thence by water to the New Exchange,1366 and there found them, and thence by coach carried my wife to Bowes to buy something, and while they were there went to Westminster Hall, and there bought Mr. Grant’s book of observations upon the weekly bills of mortality, which appear to me upon first sight to be very pretty.1367 So back again and took my wife, calling at my brother Tom’s, whom I found full of work, which I am glad of, and thence at the New Exchange and so home, and I to Sir W. Batten’s, and supped there out of pure hunger and to save getting anything ready at home, which is a thing I do not nor shall not use to do. So home and to bed.
. Up early. This being, by God’s great blessing, the fourth solemn day of my cutting for the stone this day four years, and am by God’s mercy in very good health, and like to do well, the Lord’s name be praised for it. To the office and Sir G. Carteret’s all the morning about business. At noon come my good guests, Madame Turner, The., and Cousin Norton,1368 and a gentleman, one Mr. Lewin of the King’s Life-Guard; by the same token he told us of one of his fellows killed this morning in a duel. I had a pretty dinner for them, viz., a brace of stewed carps, six roasted chickens, and a jowl of salmon, hot, for the first course; a tanzy1369 and two neats’ tongues, and cheese the second; and were very merry all the afternoon, talking and singing and piping upon the flageolet. In the evening they went with great pleasure away, and I with great content and my wife walked half an hour in the garden, and so home to supper and to bed. We had a man-cook to dress dinner today, and sent for Jane to help us, and my wife and she agreed at £3 a year (she would not serve under) till both could be better provided, and so she stays with us, and I hope we shall do well if poor Sarah were but rid of her ague.
. Early Sir G. Carteret, both Sir Williams and I by coach to Deptford, it being very windy and rainy weather, taking a codd and some prawnes in Fish Street with us. We settled to pay the Guernsey,1370 a small ship, but come to a great deal of money, it having been unpaid ever since before the King came in, by which means not only the King pays wages while the ship has lain still, but the poor men have most of them been forced to borrow all the money due for their wages before they receive it, and that at a dear rate, God knows, so that many of them had very little to receive at the table, which grieved me to see it. To dinner, very merry. Then Sir George to London, and we again to the pay, and that done by coach home again and to the office, doing some business, and so home and to bed.
. At home all the morning, and dined with my wife, a good dinner. At my office all the afternoon. At night to my chamber to read and sing, and so to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Then to the Wardrobe, and there coming late dined with the people below. Then up to my Lady, and stayed two hours talking with her about her family business with great content and confidence in me. So calling at several places I went home, where my people are getting the house clean against tomorrow. I to the office and wrote several letters by post, and so home and to bed.
. Having my old black suit new furbished, I was pretty neat in clothes today, and my boy, his old suit new trimmed, very handsome. To church in the morning, and so home, leaving the two Sir Williams to take the Sacrament, which I blame myself that I have hitherto neglected all my life, but once or twice at Cambridge.1371 Dined with my wife, a good shoulder of veal well dressed by Jane, and handsomely served to table, which pleased us much, and made us hope that she will serve our turn well enough. My wife and I to church in the afternoon, and seated ourselves, she below me, and by that means the precedence of the pew, which my Lady Batten and her daughter takes, is confounded; and after sermon she and I did stay behind them in the pew, and went out by ourselves a good while after them, which we judge a very fine project hereafter to avoyd contention. So my wife and I to walk an hour or two on the leads, which begins to be very pleasant, the garden being in good condition. So to supper, which is also well served in. We had a lobster to supper, with a crabb Pegg Penn sent my wife this afternoon, the reason of which we cannot think; but something there is of plot or design in it, for we have a little while carried ourselves pretty strange to them. After supper to bed.
. This morning Mr. Coventry and all our company met at the office about some business of the victualling, which being dispatched we parted. I to my Lord Crew’s to dinner (in my way calling upon my brother Tom, with whom I stayed a good while and talked, and find him a man like to do well, which contents me much), where used with much respect, and talking with him about my Lord’s debts, and whether we should make use of an offer of Sir G. Carteret’s to lend my Lady 4 or £500, he told me by no means, we must not oblige my Lord to him, and by the by he made a question whether it was not my Lord’s interest a little to appear to the King in debt, and for people to clamor against him as well as others for their money, that by that means the King and the world may see that he do lay out for the King’s honour upon his own main stock, which many he tells me do, that in fine if there be occasion he and I will be bound for it. Thence to Sir Thomas Crew’s lodgings. He hath been ill, and continues so, under fits of apoplexy. Among other things, he and I did discourse much of Mr. Montagu’s base doings, and the dishonour that he will do my Lord, as well as cheating him of 2 or £3,000, which is too true. Thence to the play, where coming late, and meeting with Sir W. Penn, who had got room for my wife and his daughter in the pit, he and I into one of the boxes, and there we sat and heard The Little Thiefe,1372 a pretty play and well done. Thence home, and walked in the garden with them, and then to the house to supper and sat late talking, and so to bed.
April 1662
. Within all the morning and at the office. At noon my wife and I (having paid our maid Nell her whole wages, who has been with me half a year, and now goes away for altogether) to the Wardrobe, where my Lady and company had almost dined. We sat down and dined. Here was Mr. Herbert, son to Sir Charles Herbert, that lately came with letters from my Lord Sandwich to the King. After some discourse we remembered one another to have been together at the tavern when Mr. Fanshaw took his leave of me at his going to Portugal with Sir Richard. After dinner he and I and the two young ladies and my wife to the playhouse, the Opera, and saw The Maid in the Mill, a pretty good play. In the middle of the play my Lady Paulina, who had taken physic this morning, had need to go forth, and so I took the poor lady out and carried her to the Grange, and there sent the maid of the house into a room to her, and she did what she had a mind to, and so back again to the play; and that being done, in their coach I took them to Islington, and then, after a walk in the fields, I took them to the great cheesecake house and entertained them, and so home, and after an hour’s stay with my Lady, their coach carried us home, and so weary to bed.
. Mr. Moore came to me, and he and I walked to the Spittle an hour or two before my Lord Mayor and the bluecoat boys come,1373 which at last they did, and a fine sight of charity it is indeed. We got places and stayed to hear a sermon; but, it being a Presbyterian one, it was so long, that after above an hour of it we went away, and I home and dined; and then my wife and I by water to the Opera, and there saw The Bondman most excellently acted; and though we had seen it so often, yet I never liked it better than today, Ianthe1374 acting Cleora’s part very well now Roxalana is gone. We are resolved to see no more plays till Whitsuntide, we having been three days together. Met Mr. Sanchy, Smithes, Gale, and Edlin at the play, but having no great mind to spend money, I left them there. And so home and to supper, and then dispatch business, and so to bed.
. At home and at the office all day. At night to bed.
. By barge Sir George, Sir Williams both and I to Deptford, and there fell to pay off the Drake and Hampshire, then to dinner, Sir George to his lady at his house, and Sir Wm. Penn to Woolwich, and Sir W. Batten and I to the tavern, where much company came to us and our dinner, and somewhat short by reason of their taking part away with them. Then to pay the rest of the Hampshire and the Paradox, and were at it till 9 at night, and so by night home by barge safe, and took Tom Hater with some that the clerks had to carry home along with us in the barge, the rest staying behind to pay tickets, but came home after us that night. So being come home, to bed. I was much troubled today to see a dead man lie floating upon the waters, and had done (they say) these four days, and nobody takes him up to bury him, which is very barbarous.
. At the office till almost noon, and then broke up. Then came Sir G. Carteret, and he and I walked together alone in the garden, taking notice of some faults in the office, particularly of Sir W. Batten’s, and he seemed to be much pleased with me, and I hope will be the ground of a future interest of mine in him, which I shall be glad of. Then with my wife abroad, she to the Wardrobe and there dined, and I to the Exchange and so to the Wardrobe, but they had dined. After dinner my wife and the two ladies to see my aunt Wight, and thence met me at home. From thence (after Sir W. Batten and I had viewed our houses with a workman in order to the raising of our roofs higher to enlarge our houses) I went with them by coach first to Moorfields and there walked, and thence to Islington and had a fine walk in the fields there, and so, after eating and drinking, home with them, and so by water with my wife home, and after supper to bed.
. By water to Whitehall, to Sir G. Carteret, to give him an account of the backwardness of the ships we have hired to Portugal: at which he is much troubled. Thence to the Chapel, and there, though crowded, heard a very honest sermon before the King by a Canon of Christ Church, upon these words, “Having a form of godliness, but denying,” etc.1375 Among other things, did much insist upon the sin of adultery: which methought might touch the King, and the more because he forced it into his sermon, methinks, besides his text. So up and saw the King at dinner; and thence with Sir G. Carteret to his lodgings to dinner, with him and his lady, where I saluted her, and was well received as a stranger by her; she seems a good lady, and all their discourse, which was very much, was upon their sufferings and services for the King. Yet not without some trouble, to see that some that had been much bound to them, do now neglect them; and others again most civil that have received least from them: and I do believe that he hath been a good servant to the King. Thence to walk in the Park, where the King and Duke did walk round the Park. After I was tired I went and took boat to Milford stairs, and so to Graye’s Inn walks, the first time I have been there this year, and it is very pleasant and full of good company. When tired I walked to the Wardrobe, and there stayed a little with my Lady, and so by water from Paul’s Wharf (where my boat stayed for me), home and supped with my wife with Sir W. Penn, and so home and to bed.
. By water to Whitehall and thence to Westminster, and stayed at the Parliament-door long to speak with Mr. Coventry, which vexed me. Thence to the Lords’ House, and stood within the House, while the Bishops and Lords did stay till the Chancellor’s coming, and then we were put out, and they to prayers. There comes a Bishop; and while he was rigging himself, he bid his man listen at the door, whereabout in the prayers they were but the man told him something, but could not tell whereabouts it was in the prayers, nor the Bishop neither, but laughed at the conceit; so went in: but, God forgive me! I did tell it by and by to people, and did say that the man said that they were about something of saving their souls, but could not tell whereabouts in the prayers that was. I sent in a note to my Lord Privy Seal, and he came out to me; and I desired he would make another deputy for me, because of my great business of the Navy this month; but he told me he could not do it without the King’s consent, which vexed me. So to Dr. Castle’s, and there did get a promise from his clerk that his master should officiate for me tomorrow. Thence by water to Tom’s, and there with my wife took coach and to the old Exchange, where having bought six large Holland bands, I sent her home, and myself found out my uncle Wight and Mr. Rawlinson, and with them went to the latter’s house to dinner, and there had a good dinner of cold meat and good wine, but was troubled in my head after the little wine I drank, and so home to my office, and there did promise to drink no more wine but one glass a meal till Whitsuntide next upon any score. Mrs. Bowyer and her daughters being at my house I forbore to go to them, having business and my head disturbed, but stayed at my office till night, and then to walk upon the leads with my wife, and so to my chamber and thence to bed. The great talk is, that the Spaniards and the Hollanders do intend to set upon the Portuguese by sea, at Lisbon, as soon as our fleet is come away; and by that means our fleet is not likely to come yet these two months or three; which I hope is not true.
. Up very early and to my office, and there continued till noon. So to dinner, and in comes uncle Fenner and the two Joyces. I sent for a barrel of oysters and a breast of veal roasted, and were very merry; but I cannot down with their dull company and impertinent. After dinner to the office again. So at night by coach to Whitehall, and Mr. Coventry not being there I brought my business of the office to him, it being almost dark, and so came away and took up my wife. By the way home and on Ludgate Hill there being a stop I bought two cakes, and they were our supper at home.
. Sir George Carteret, Sir Williams both and myself all the morning at the office passing the Victualler’s accounts, and at noon to dinner at the Dolphin, where a good chine of beef and other good cheer. At dinner Sir George showed me an account in French of the great famine, which is to the greatest extremity in some part of France at this day, which is very strange.1376 So to the Exchange, Mrs. Turner (who I found sick in bed), and several other places about business, and so home. Supper and to bed.
. To Westminster with the two Sir Williams by water, and did several businesses, and so to the Wardrobe with Mr. Moore to dinner. Yesterday came Col. Talbot1377 with letters from Portugal, that the Queen is resolved to embark for England this week. Thence to the office all the afternoon. My Lord Windsor1378 came to us to discourse of his affairs, and to take his leave of us; he being to go Governor of Jamaica with this fleet that is now going. Late at the office. Home with my mind full of business. So to bed.
. Up early to my lute and a song, then about six o’clock with Sir W. Penn by water to Deptford; and among the ships now going to Portugal with men and horse, to see them dispatched. So to Greenwich; and had a fine pleasant walk to Woolwich, having in our company Captn. Minnes, with whom I was much pleased to hear him talk in fine language, but pretty well for all that. Among other things, he and the other Captains that were with us tell me that negros drowned look white and lose their blackness, which I never heard before. At Woolwich, up and down to do the same business; and so back to Greenwich by water, and there while something is dressing for our dinner, Sir William and I walked into the Park, where the King hath planted trees and made steps in the hill up to the Castle, which is very magnificent. So up and down the house, which is now repayring in the Queen’s lodgings. So to dinner at the Globe, and Captain Lambert of the Duke’s pleasure boat came to us and dined with us, and were merry, and so home, and I in the evening to the Exchange, and spoke with uncle Wight, and so home and walked with my wife on the leads late, and so the barber came to me, and so to bed very weary, which I seldom am.
. At the office all the morning, where, among other things, being provoked by some impertinence of Sir W. Batten’s, I called him unreasonable man, at which he was very angry and so was I, but I think we shall not much fall out about it. After dinner to several places about business, and so home and wrote letters at my office, and one to Mr. Coventry about business, and at the close did excuse my not waiting on him myself so often as others do for want of leisure. So home and to bed.
. In the morning to Paul’s, where I heard a pretty good sermon, and thence to dinner with my Lady at the Wardrobe; and after much talk with her after dinner, I went to the Temple to Church, and there heard another: by the same token a boy, being asleep, fell down a high seat to the ground, ready to break his neck, but got no hurt. Thence to Graye’s Inn walkes; and there met Mr. Pickering and walked with him two hours till 8 o’clock till I was quite weary. His discourse most about the pride of the Duchess of York; and how all the ladies envy my Lady Castlemaine. He intends to go to Portsmouth to meet the Queen this week; which is now the discourse and expectation of the town. So home, and no sooner come but Sir W. Warren comes to me to bring me a paper of Field’s (with whom we have lately had a great deal of trouble at the office), being a bitter petition to the King against our office for not doing justice upon his complaint to us of embezzlement of the King’s stores by one Turpin. I took Sir William to Sir W. Penn’s (who was newly come from Walthamstow), and there we read it and discoursed, but we do not much fear it, the King referring it to the Duke of York. So we drank a glass or two of wine, and so home and I to bed, my wife being in bed already.
. Being weary last night I lay very long in bed today, talking with my wife, and persuaded her to go to Brampton, and take Sarah with her, next week, to cure her ague by change of air, and we agreed all things therein. We rose, and at noon dined, and then we to the Paynter’s, and there sat the last time for my little picture, which I hope will please me. Then to Paternoster Row to buy things for my wife against her going. So home and walked upon the leads with my wife, and whether she suspected anything or no I know not, but she is quite off of her going to Brampton, which something troubles me, and yet all my design was that I might the freer go to Portsmouth when the rest go to pay off the yards there, which will be very shortly. But I will get off if I can. So to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Dined at home. Again at the office in the afternoon to despatch letters and so home, and with my wife, by coach, to the New Exchange, to buy her some things; where we saw some new-fashion pettycoats of sarcenet, with a black broad lace printed round the bottom and before, very handsome, and my wife had a mind to one of them, but we did not then buy one. But thence to Mr. Bowyer’s, thinking to have spoke to them for our Sarah to go to Huntsmore for a while to get away her ague, but we had not opportunity to do it, and so home and to bed.
. Up early and took my physic; it wrought all the morning well. At noon dined, and all the afternoon, Mr. Hater to that end coming to me, he and I did go about my abstracting all the contracts made in the office since we came into it. So at night to bed.
. To Mr. Holliard’s in the morning, thinking to be let blood, but he was gone out. So to Whitehall, thinking to have had a Seal at Privy Seal, but my Lord did not come, and so I walked back home and stayed within all the afternoon, there being no office kept today, but in the evening Sir W. Batten sent for me to tell me that he had this day spoke to the Duke about raising our houses, and he hath given us leave to do it, at which, being glad, I went home merry, and after supper to bed.
. This morning sending the boy down into the cellar for some beer I followed him with a cane, and did there beat him for his staying of awards and other faults, and his sister came to me down and begged for him. So I forebore, and afterwards, in my wife’s chamber, did there talk to Jane how much I did love the boy for her sake, and how much it do concern to correct the boy for his faults, or else he would be undone. So at last she was well pleased. This morning Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Batten and I met at the office, and did conclude of our going to Portsmouth next week, in which my mind is at a great loss what to do with my wife, for I cannot persuade her to go to Brampton, and I am loth to leave her at home. All the afternoon in several places to put things in order for my going. At night home and to bed.
. This morning, before we sat, I went to Aldgate; and at the corner shop, a draper’s, I stood, and did see Barkestead, Okey, and Corbet, drawn towards the gallows at Tiburne; and there they were hanged and quartered. They all looked very cheerful; but I hear they all die defending what they did to the King to be just; which is very strange. So to the office and then home to dinner, and Captain David Lambert came to take his leave of me, he being to go back to Tangier there to lie. Then abroad about business, and in the evening did get a bever, an old one, but a very good one, of Sir W. Batten, for which I must give him something; but I am very well pleased with it. So after writing by the post to bed.
. My intention being to go this morning to Whitehall to hear South,1379 my Lord Chancellor’s chaplain, the famous preacher and orator of Oxford (who the last Lord’s day did sink down in the pulpit before the King, and could not proceed), it did rain, and the wind against me, that I could by no means get a boat or coach to carry me; and so I stayed at Paul’s, where the judges did all meet, and heard a sermon, it being the first Sunday of the term; but they had a very poor sermon. So to my Lady’s and dined, and so to Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret, and so to the Chappell, where I challenged my pew as Clerk of the Privy Seal and had it, and then walked home with Mr. Blagrave to his old house in the Fishyard, and there he had a pretty kinswoman that sings, and we did sing some holy things, and afterwards others came in and so I left them, and by water through the bridge (which did trouble me) home, and so to bed.
. This morning I attempted to persuade my wife in bed to go to Brampton this week, but she would not, which troubles me, and seeing that I could keep it no longer from her, I told her that I was resolved to go to Portsmouth tomorrow. Sir W. Batten goes to Chatham today, and will be back again to come for Portsmouth after us on Thursday next. I went to Westminster and several places about business. Then at noon dined with my Lord Crew; and after dinner went up to Sir Thos. Crew’s chamber, who is still ill. He tells me how my Lady Duchess of Richmond1380 and Castlemaine had a falling out the other day; and she calls the latter Jane Shore, and did hope to see her come to the same end that she did. Coming down again to my Lord, he told me that news was come that the Queen is landed; at which I took leave, and by coach hurried to Whitehall, the bells ringing in several places; but I found there no such matter, nor anything like it. So I went by appointment to Anthony Joyce’s, where I sat with his wife and Matt. Joyce an hour or two, and so her husband not being at home, away I went and in Cheapside spied him and took him into the coach. Home, and there I found my Lady Jemimah, and Anne, and Mademoiselle come to see my wife, whom I left, and to talk with Joyce about a project I have of his and my joining, to get some money for my brother Tom and his kinswoman to help forward with her portion if they should marry. I mean in buying of tallow of him at a low rate for the King, and Tom should have the profit; but he tells me the profit will be considerable, at which I was troubled, but I have agreed with him to serve some in my absence. He went away, and then came Mr. Moore and sat late with me talking about business, and so went away and I to bed.
. After taking leave of my wife, which we could hardly do kindly, because of her mind to go along with me, Sir W. Penn and I took coach and so over the bridge to Lambeth, W. Bodham and Tom Hewet going as clerks to Sir W. Penn, and my Will for me. Here we got a dish of buttered eggs, and there stayed till Sir G. Carteret came to us from Whitehall, who brought Dr. Clerke with him, at which I was very glad, and so we set out, and I was very much pleased with his company, and were very merry all the way. … We came to Gilford1381 and there passed our time in the garden, cutting of sparagus for supper, the best that ever I eat in my life but in the house last year. Supped well, and the Doctor and I to bed together, calling cousins from his name and my office.1382
. Up early, and to Petersfield, and there dined well; and thence got a countryman to guide us by Havant, to avoid going through the Forest; but he carried us much out of the way, and upon our coming we sent away an express to Sir W. Batten to stop his coming, which I did project to make good my oath, that my wife should come if any of our wives came, which my Lady Batten did intend to do with her husband. The Doctor and I lay together at Wiard’s, the chirurgeon’s, in Portsmouth, his wife a very pretty woman. We lay very well and merrily; in the morning, concluding him to be of the eldest blood and house of the Clerkes, because that all the fleas came to him and not to me.
. Up and to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings at Mrs. Stephens’s, where we keep our table all the time we are here. Thence all of us to the Pay-house; but the books not being ready, we went to church to the lecture, where there was my Lord Ormond1383 and Manchester,1384 and much London company, though not so much as I expected. Here we had a very good sermon upon this text: “In love serving one another;” which pleased me very well. No news of the Queen at all. So to dinner; and then to the Pay all the afternoon. Then W. Penn and I walked to the King’s Yard, and there lay at Mr. Tippets’s,1385 where exceeding well treated.
. All the morning at Portsmouth, at the Pay, and then to dinner, and again to the Pay; and at night got the Doctor to go lie with me, and much pleased with his company; but I was much troubled in my eyes, by reason of the healths I have this day been forced to drink.
. Sir George1386 and I, and his clerk Mr. Stephens, and Mr. Holt our guide, over to Gosport; and so rode to Southampton. In our way, besides my Lord Southampton’s1387 parks and lands, which in one view we could see £6,000 per annum, we observed a little churchyard, where the graves are accustomed to be all sowed with sage.1388 At Southampton we went to the Mayor’s and there dined, and had sturgeon of their own catching the last week, which do not happen in twenty years, and it was well ordered. They brought us also some caviar,1389 which I attempted to order, but all to no purpose, for they had neither given it salt enough, nor are the seedes of the roe broke, but are all in berries. The town is one most gallant street, and is walled round with stone, etc., and Bevis’s picture1390 upon one of the gates; many old walls of religious houses, and the key, well worth seeing. After dinner to horse again, being in nothing troubled but the badness of my hat, which I borrowed to save my beaver. Home by night and wrote letters to London, and so with Sir W. Penn to the Dock to bed.
. Sir W. Penn got trimmed before me, and so took the coach to Portsmouth to wait on my Lord Steward1391 to church, and sent the coach for me back again. So I rode to church, and met my Lord Chamberlain1392 upon the walls of the garrison, who owned and spoke to me. I followed him in the crowd of gallants through the Queen’s lodgings to chappell; the rooms being all rarely furnished, and escaped hardly being set on fire yesterday. At chappell we had a most excellent and eloquent sermon. And here I spoke and saluted Mrs. Pierce, but being in haste could not learn of her where her lodgings are, which vexes me. Thence took Ned Pickering to dinner with us, and the two Marshes, father and Son, dined with us, and very merry. After dinner Sir W. Batten and I, the Doctor, and Ned Pickering by coach to the Yard, and there on board the Swallow in the dock hear our navy chaplain preach a sad sermon, full of nonsense and false Latin; but prayed for the Right Honourable the principal officers.1393 After sermon took him to Mr. Tippets’s to drink a glass of wine, and so at 4 back again by coach to Portsmouth, and then visited the Mayor, Mr. Timbrell, our anchor-smith, who showed us the present they have for the Queen; which is a salt-sellar of silver, the walls christall, with four eagles and four greyhounds standing up at the top to bear up a dish; which indeed is one of the neatest pieces of plate that ever I saw, and the case is very pretty also.1394 This evening came a merchantman in the harbour, which we hired at London to carry horses to Portugal; but, Lord! what running there was to the seaside to hear what news, thinking it had come from the Queen. In the evening Sir George, Sir W. Penn and I walked round the walls, and thence we two with the Doctor to the yard, and so to supper and to bed.
. The Doctor and I begun philosophy discourse exceeding pleasant. He offers to bring me into the college of virtuosoes1395 and my Lord Brouncker’s1396 acquaintance, and to show me some anatomy, which makes me very glad; and I shall endeavour it when I come to London. Sir W. Penn much troubled upon letters came last night. Showed me one of Dr. Owen’s1397 to his son1398 whereby it appears his son is much perverted in his opinion by him; which I now perceive is one thing that hath put Sir William so long off the hooks. By coach to the Pay-house, and so to work again, and then to dinner, and to it again, and so in the evening to the yard, and supper and bed.
. At the pay all the morning, and so to dinner; and then to it again in the afternoon, and after our work was done, Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Penn and I walked forth, and I spied Mrs. Pierce and another lady passing by. So I left them and went to the ladies, and walked with them up and down, and took them to Mrs. Stephens, and there gave them wine and sweetmeats, and were very merry; and then comes the Doctor, and we carried them by coach to their lodging, which was very poor, but the best they could get, and such as made much mirth among us. So I appointed one to watch when the gates of the town were ready to be shut, and to give us notice; and so the Doctor and I stayed with them playing and laughing, and at last were forced to bid good night for fear of being locked into the town all night. So we walked to the yard, designing how to prevent our going to London tomorrow, that we might be merry with these ladies, which I did. So to supper and merrily to bed.
. This morning Sir G. Carteret came down to the yard, and there we mustered over all the men and determined of some regulations in the yard, and then to dinner, all the officers of the yard with us, and after dinner walk to Portsmouth, there to pay off the Success, which we did pretty early, and so I took leave of Sir W. Penn, he desiring to know whither I went, but I would not tell him. I went to the ladies, and there took them and walked to the Mayor’s to show them the present, and then to the Dock, where Mr. Tippets made much of them, and thence back again, the Doctor being come to us to their lodgings, whither came our supper by my appointment, and we very merry, playing at cards and laughing very merry till 12 o’clock at night, and so having stayed so long (which we had resolved to stay till they bade us be gone), which yet they did not do but by consent, we bade them good night, and so past the guards, and went to the Doctor’s lodgings, and there lay with him, our discourse being much about the quality of the lady with Mrs. Pierce, she being somewhat old and handsome, and painted and fine, and had a very handsome maid with her, which we take to be the marks of a bawd. But Mrs. Pierce says she is a stranger to her and met by chance in the coach, and pretends to be a dresser. Her name is Eastwood. So to sleep in a bad bed about one o’clock in the morning. This afternoon after dinner comes Mr. Stephenson, one of the burgesses of the town, to tell me that the Mayor and burgesses did desire my acceptance of a burgess-ship, and were ready at the Mayor’s to make me one. So I went, and there they were all ready, and did with much civility give me my oath, and after the oath, did by custom shake me all by the hand. So I took them to a tavern and made them drink, and paying the reckoning, went away. They having first in the tavern made Mr. Waith also a burgess, he coming in while we were drinking. It cost me a piece in gold to the Town Clerk, and 10s. to the Bailiffs, and spent 6s.
May 1662
. Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Penn, and myself, with our clerks, set out this morning from Portsmouth very early, and got by noon to Petersfield; several officers of the Yard accompanying us so far. Here we dined and were merry. At dinner comes my Lord Carlingford1399 from London, going to Portsmouth: tells us that the Duchess of York is brought to bed of a girl1400 at which I find nobody pleased; and that Prince Rupert and the Duke of Buckingham are sworn of the Privy Council. He himself made a dish with eggs of the butter of the Sparagus, which is very fine meat, which I will practise hereafter. To horse again after dinner, and got to Gilford, where after supper I to bed, having this day been offended by Sir W. Penn’s foolish talk, and I offending him with my answers. Among others he in discourse complaining of want of confidence, did ask me to lend him a grain or two, which I told him I thought he was better stored with than myself, before Sir George. So that I see I must keep a greater distance than I have done, and I hope I may do it because of the interest which I am making with Sir George. To bed all alone, and my Will in the truckle bed.1401
. Early to coach again and to Kingston, where we baited a little, and presently to coach again and got early to London, and I found all well at home, and Mr. Hunt and his wife had dined with my wife today, and been very kind to my wife in my absence. After I had washed myself, it having been the hottest day that has been this year, I took them all by coach to Mrs. Hunt’s, and I to Dr. Clerke’s lady, and gave her her letter and token. She is a very fine woman, and what with her person and the number of fine ladies that were with her, I was much out of countenance, and could hardly carry myself like a man among them; but however, I stayed till my courage was up again, and talked to them, and viewed her house, which is most pleasant, and so drank and good night. And so to my Lord’s lodgings, where by chance I spied my Lady’s coach, and found her and my Lady Wright there, and so I spoke to them, and they being gone went to Mr. Hunt’s for my wife, and so home and to bed.
. Sir W. Penn and I by coach to St. James’s, and there to the Duke’s Chamber, who had been a-hunting this morning and is come back again. Thence to Westminster, where I met Mr. Moore, and hear that Mr. Watkins1402 is suddenly dead since my going. To dinner to my Lady Sandwich, and Sir Thomas Crew’s children coming thither, I took them and all my Ladies to the Tower and showed them the lions1403 and all that was to be shown, and so took them to my house, and there made much of them, and so saw them back to my Lady’s. Sir Thomas Crew’s children being as pretty and the best behaved that ever I saw of their age. Thence, at the goldsmith’s, took my picture in little1404 which is now done, home with me, and pleases me exceedingly and my wife. So to supper and to bed, it being exceeding hot.
. Lay long talking with my wife, then Mr. Holliard came to me and let me blood, about sixteen ounces, I being exceedingly full of blood and very good. I begun to be sick; but lying upon my back I was presently well again, and did give him 5s. for his pains, and so we parted, and I, to my chamber to write down my journal from the beginning of my late journey to this house. Dined well, and after dinner, my arm tied up with a black ribbon, I walked with my wife to my brother Tom’s; our boy waiting on us with his sword, which this day he begins to wear, to outdo Sir W. Penn’s boy, who this day, and Sir W. Batten’s too, begin to wear new livery; but I do take mine to be the neatest of them all. I led my wife to Mrs. Turner’s pew, and the church being full, it being to hear a Doctor who is to preach a probac̃on sermon, I went out to the Temple and there walked, and so when church was done went to Mrs. Turner’s, and after a stay there, my wife and I walked to Grays Inn, to observe fashions of the ladies, because of my wife’s making some clothes. Thence homewards, and called in at Antony Joyce’s, where we found his wife brought home sick from church, and was in a convulsion fit. So home and to Sir W. Penn’s and there supped, and so to prayers at home and to bed.
. My arme not being well, I stayed within all the morning, and dined alone at home, my wife being gone out to buy some things for herself, and a gown for me to dress myself in. And so all the afternoon looking over my papers, and at night walked upon the leads, and so to bed.
. This morning I got my seat set up on the leads, which pleases me well. So to the office, and thence to the ’Change, but could not meet with my uncle Wight. So home to dinner and then out again to several places to pay money and to understand my debts, and so home and walked with my wife on the leads, and so to supper and to bed. I find it a hard matter to settle to business after so much leisure and pleasure.
. Walked to Westminster; where I understand the news that Mr. Montagu is this last night come to the King with news, that he left the Queen and fleet in the Bay of Biscay, coming this wayward; and that he believes she is now at the Isle of Scilly. So at noon to my Lord Crew’s and there dined, and after dinner Sir Thos. Crew and I talked together, and among other instances of the simple light discourse that sometimes is in the Parliament House, he told me how in the late business of Chymny money, when all occupiers were to pay, it was questioned whether women were under that name to pay, and somebody rose and said that they were not occupiers, but occupied. Thence to Paul’s Church Yard; where seeing my Lady’s Sandwich and Carteret, and my wife (who this day made a visit the first time to my Lady Carteret),1405 come by coach, and going to Hide Park, I was resolved to follow them; and so went to Mrs. Turner’s: and thence found her out at the Theatre, where I saw the last act of the Knight of the Burning Pestle,1406 which pleased me not at all. And so after the play done, she and The. Turner and Mrs. Lucin and I, in her coach to the Park; and there found them out, and spoke to them; and observed many fine ladies, and stayed till all were gone almost. And so to Mrs. Turner’s, and there supped, and so walked home, and by and by comes my wife home, brought by my Lady Carteret to the gate, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning doing business alone, and then to the Wardrobe, where my Lady going out with the children to dinner I stayed not, but returned home, and was overtaken in St. Paul’s Churchyard by Sir G. Carteret in his coach, and so he carried me to the Exchange, where I stayed awhile. He told me that the Queen and the fleet were in Mount’s Bay on Monday last, and that the Queen endures her sickness pretty well. He also told me how Sir John Lawson hath done some execution upon the Turks in the Straight,1407 of which I am glad, and told the news the first on the Exchange, and was much followed by merchants to tell it. So home and to dinner, and by and by to the office, and after the rest gone (my Lady Albemarle being this day at dinner at Sir W. Batten’s) Sir G. Carteret comes, and he and I walked in the garden, and, among other discourse, tells me that it is Mr. Coventry that is to come to us as a Commissioner of the Navy; at which he is much vexed, and cries out upon Sir W. Penn, and threatens him highly. And looking upon his lodgings, which are now enlarging, he in passion cried, “Guarda mi spada; for, by God, I may chance to keep him in Ireland, when he is there:” for Sir W. Penn is going thither with my Lord Lieutenant.1408 But it is my design to keep much in with Sir George; and I think I have begun very well towards it. So to the office, and was there late doing business, and so with my head full of business I to bed.
. Up and to my office, and so to dinner at home, and then to several places to pay my debts, and then to Westminster to Dr. Castle, who discoursed with me about Privy Seal business, which I do not much mind, it being little worth, but by Watkins’s1409 late sudden death we are like to lose money. Thence to Mr. de Cretz, and there saw some good pieces that he hath copyed of the King’s pieces, some of Raphael and Michelangelo; and I have borrowed an Elizabeth of his copying to hang up in my house, and sent it home by Will. Thence with Mr. Salisbury, who I met there, into Covent Garden to an alehouse, to see a picture that hangs there, which is offered for 20s., and I offered fourteen—but it is worth much more money—but did not buy it, I having no mind to break my oath. Thence to see an Italian puppet play1410 that is within the rails there, which is very pretty, the best that ever I saw, and great resort of gallants. So to the Temple and by water home, and so walk upon the leads, and in the dark there played upon my flageolet, it being a fine still evening, and so to supper and to bed. This day I paid Godfrey’s debt of 40 and odd pounds. The Duke of York went last night to Portsmouth; so that I believe the Queen is near.
. By myself at the office all the morning drawing up instructions for Portsmouth yard in those things wherein we at our late being there did think fit to reform, and got them signed this morning to send away tonight, the Duke being now there. At noon to the Wardrobe; there dined. My Lady told me how my Lady Castlemaine do speak of going to lie in at Hampton Court; which she and all our ladies are much troubled at, because of the King’s being forced to show her countenance in the sight of the Queen when she comes. Back to the office and there all afternoon, and in the evening comes Sir G. Carteret, and he and I did hire a ship for Tangier, and other things together; and I find that he do single me out to join with me apart from the rest, which I am much glad of. So home, and after being trimmed, to bed.
. To our church in the morning, where, our Minister being out of town, a dull, flat Presbiter preached. Dined at home, and my wife’s brother with us, we having a good dish of stewed beef of Jane’s own dressing, which was well done, and a piece of sturgeon of a barrel sent me by Captain Cocke. In the afternoon to Whitehall; and there walked an hour or two in the Park, where I saw the King now out of mourning,1411 in a suit laced with gold and silver, which it was said was out of fashion. Thence to the Wardrobe; and there consulted with the ladies about our going to Hampton Court tomorrow, and thence home, and after settled business there my wife and I to the Wardrobe, and there we lay all night in Captain Ferrers’ chambers, but the bed so soft that I could not sleep that hot night.
. Mr. Townsend called us up by four o’clock; and by five the three ladies, my wife and I, and Mr. Townsend, his son and daughter, were got to the barge and set out. We walked from Mortlake to Richmond, and so to boat again. And from Teddington to Hampton Court Mr. Townsend and I walked again. And then met the ladies, and were showed the whole house by Mr. Marriott;1412 which is indeed nobly furnished, particularly the Queen’s bed, given her by the States of Holland; a looking-glass sent by the Queen-mother from France, hanging in the Queen’s chamber, and many brave pictures. So to Mr. Marriott’s, and there we rested ourselves and drank. And so to barge again, and there we had good victuals and wine, and were very merry; and got home about eight at night very well. So my wife and I took leave of my Ladies, and home by a hackney-coach, the easiest that ever I met with, and so to bed.
. All the morning at Westminster and elsewhere about business, and dined at the Wardrobe; and after dinner, sat talking an hour or two alone with my Lady. She is afeard that my Lady Castlemaine will keep still with the King, and I am afeard she will not, for I love her well. Thence to my brother’s,1413 and finding him in a lie about the lining of my new morning gown, saying that it was the same with the outside, I was very angry with him and parted so. So home after an hour stay at Paul’s Churchyard, and there came Mr. Morelock of Chatham, and brought me a stately cake, and I perceive he has done the same to the rest, of which I was glad; so to bed.
. To Westminster; and at the Privy Seal I saw Mr. Coventry’s seal for his being Commissioner with us, at which I know not yet whether to be glad or otherwise. So doing several things by the way, I walked home, and after dinner to the office all the afternoon. At night, all the bells of the town rung, and bonfires made for the joy of the Queen’s arrival, who came and landed at Portsmouth last night.1414 But I do not see much thorough joy, but only an indifferent one, in the hearts of people, who are much discontented at the pride and luxury of the Court, and running in debt.
. Up early, Mr. Hater and I to the office, and there I made an end of my book of contracts which I have been making an abstract of. Dined at home, and spent most of the day at the office. At night to supper and bed.
. Upon a letter this morning from Mr. Moore, I went to my cousin Turner’s chamber, and there put him drawing a replication to Tom Trice’s answer speedily. So to Whitehall and there met Mr. Moore, and I walked long in Westminster Hall, and thence with him to the Wardrobe to dinner, where dined Mrs. Sanderson, the mother of the maids, and after dinner my Lady and she and I on foot to Pater Noster Row to buy a petticoat against the Queen’s coming for my Lady, of plain satin, and other things; and being come back again, we there met Mr. Nathaniel Crew1415 at the Wardrobe with a young gentleman, a friend and fellow student of his, and of a good family, Mr. Knightly,1416 and known to the Crews, of whom my Lady privately told me she hath some thoughts of a match for my Lady Jemimah. I like the person very well, and he hath £2,000 per annum. Thence to the office, and there we sat, and thence after writing letters to all my friends with my Lord at Portsmouth, I walked to my brother Tom’s to see a velvet cloak, which I buy of Mr. Moore. It will cost me £8 10s.; he bought it for £6 10s., but it is worth my money. So home and find all things made clean against tomorrow, which pleases me well. So to bed.
. By water to Whitehall, and thereto chapel in my pew belonging to me as Clerk of the Privy Seal; and there I heard a most excellent sermon of Dr. Hacket,1417 Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, upon these words: “He that drinketh this water shall never thirst.” We had an excellent anthem, sung by Captain Cooke1418 and another, and brave music. And then the King came down and offered, and took the sacrament upon his knees; a sight very well worth seeing. Hence with Sir G. Carteret to his lodging to dinner with his Lady and one Mr. Brevin, a French Divine, we were very merry, and good discourse, and I had much talk with my Lady. After dinner, and so to chapel again; and there had another good anthem of Captain Cooke’s. Thence to the Council-chamber; where the King and Council sat till almost eleven o’clock at night, and I forced to walk up and down the galleries till that time of night. They were reading all the bills over that are to pass tomorrow at the House, before the King’s going out of town and proroguing the House. At last the Council risen, and Sir G. Carteret telling me what the Council hath ordered about the ships designed to carry horse from Ireland to Portugal, which is now altered. I got a coach and so home, sending the boat away without me. At home I found my wife discontented at my being abroad, but I pleased her. She was in her new suit of black sarcenet and yellow petticoat very pretty. So to bed.
. Long in bed, sometimes scolding with my wife, and then pleased again, and at last up, and put on my riding cloth suit, and a camlet coat new, which pleases me well enough. To the Temple about my replication, and so to my brother Tom’s, and there hear that my father will be in town this week. So home, the shops being but some shut and some open. I hear that the House of Commons do think much that they should be forced to huddle over business this morning against the afternoon, for the King to pass their Acts, that he may go out of town.1419 But he, I hear since, was forced to stay till almost nine o’clock at night before he could have done, and then he prorogued them; and so to Gilford, and lay there. Home, and Mr. Hunt dined with me, and were merry. After dinner Sir W. Penn and his daughter, and I and my wife by coach to the Theatre, and there in a box saw The Little Thief well done. Thence to Moorefields, and walked and eat some cheesecake and gammon of bacon, but when I was come home I was sick, forced to vomit it up again. So my wife walking and singing upon the leads till very late, it being pleasant and moonshine, and so to bed.
. Sir W. Penn and I did a little business at the office, and so home again. Then comes Dean Fuller after we had dined, but I got something for him, and very merry we were for an hour or two, and I am most pleased with his company and goodness. At last parted, and my wife and I by coach to the Opera, and there saw the 2nd part of The Siege of Rhodes, but it is not so well done as when Roxalana was there, who, it is said, is now owned by my Lord of Oxford.1420 Thence to Tower-wharf, and there took boat, and we all walked to Halfeway House,1421 and there eat and drank, and were pleasant, and so finally home again in the evening, and so good night, this being a very pleasant life that we now lead, and have long done; the Lord be blessed, and make us thankful. But, though I am much against too much spending, yet I do think it best to enjoy some degree of pleasure now that we have health, money, and opportunity, rather than to leave pleasures to old age or poverty, when we cannot have them so properly.
. My wife and I by water to Westminster, and after she had seen her father (of whom lately I have heard nothing at all what he does or her mother), she comes to me to my Lord’s lodgings, where she and I stayed walking in Whitehall Garden. And in the Privy-garden saw the finest smocks and linen petticoats of my Lady Castlemaine’s, laced with rich lace at the bottom, that ever I saw; and did me good to look upon them. So to Wilkinson’s, she and I and Sarah1422 to dinner, where I had a good quarter of lamb and a salat. Here Sarah told me how the King dined at my Lady Castlemaine’s, and supped, every day and night the last week; and that the night that the bonfires were made for joy of the Queen’s arrivall, the King was there; but there was no fire at her door, though at all the rest of the doors almost in the street; which was much observed: and that the King and she did send for a pair of scales and weighed one another; and she, being with child,1423 was said to be heaviest. But she is now a most disconsolate creature, and comes not out of doors, since the King’s going. But we went to the Theatre to The French Dancing Master,1424 and there with much pleasure gazed upon her (Lady Castlemaine); but it troubles us to see her look dejectedly and slighted by people already. The play pleased us very well; but Lacy’s part, the Dancing Master, the best in the world. Thence to my brother Tom’s, in expectation to have met my father tonight come out of the country, but he is not yet come, but here we found my uncle Fenner and his old wife, whom I had not seen since the wedding dinner, nor care to see her. They being gone, my wife and I went and saw Mrs. Turner, whom we found not well, and her two boys Charles and Will come out of the country, grown very plain boys after three years being under their father’s care in Yorkshire. Thence to Tom’s again, and there supped well, my she cousin Scott being there and my father being not come, we walked home and to bed.
. This morning comes an order from the Secretary of State, Nicholas, for me to let one Mr. Lee, a Councilor, to view what papers I have relating to passages of the late times, wherein Sir H. Vane’s hand is employed, in order to the drawing up his charge; which I did, and at noon he, with Sir W. Penn and his daughter, dined with me, and he to his work again, and we by coach to the Theatre and saw Love in a Maze.1425 The play hath little in it but Lacy’s part of a country fellow, which he did to admiration. So home, and supped with Sir W. Penn, where Sir W. Batten and Captn. Cocke came to us, to whom I have lately been a great stranger. This night we had each of us a letter from Captain Teddiman from the Streights, of a peace made upon good terms, by Sir J. Lawson, with the Argier men, which is most excellent news.1426 He hath also sent each of us some anchovies, olives, and muscat; but I know not yet what that is, and am ashamed to ask. After supper home, and to bed, resolving to make up this week in seeing plays and pleasure, and so fall to business next week again for a great while.
. At the office good part of the morning, and then about noon with my wife on foot to the Wardrobe. My wife went up to the dining room to my Lady Paulina, and I stayed below talking with Mr. Moore in the parley, reading of the King’s and Chancellor’s late speeches at the proroguing of the Houses of Parliament. And while I was reading, news was brought me that my Lord Sandwich is come and gone up to my Lady, which put me into great suspense of joy, so I went up waiting my Lord’s coming out of my Lady’s chamber, which by and by he did, and looks very well, and my soul is glad to see him. He very merry, and hath left the King and Queen at Portsmouth, and is come up to stay here till next Wednesday, and then to meet the King and Queen at Hampton Court. So to dinner, Mr. Browne, Clerk of the House of Lords, and his wife and brother there also; and my Lord mighty merry; among other things, saying that the Queen is a very agreeable lady, and paints still.1427 After dinner I showed him my letter from Teddiman about the news from Argier, which pleases him exceedingly;1428 and he writ one to the Duke of York about it, and sent it express. There coming much company after dinner to my Lord, my wife and I slunk away to the Opera, where we saw Wit in a Constable,1429 the first time that it is acted; but so silly a play I never saw I think in my life. After it was done, my wife and I to the puppet play in Covent Garden, which I saw the other day, and indeed it is very pleasant. Here among the fiddlers I first saw a dulcimere1430 played on with sticks knocking of the strings, and is very pretty. So by water home, and supped with Sir William Penn very merry, and so to bed.
. To the Wardrobe, and there again spoke with my Lord, and saw W. Howe, who is grown a very pretty and is a sober fellow. Thence abroad with Mr. Creed, of whom I informed myself of all I had a mind to know. Among other things, the great difficulty my Lord hath been in all this summer for lack of good and full orders from the King; and I doubt our Lords of the Council do not mind things as the late powers did, but their pleasures or profit more. That the Juego de Toros is a simple sport, yet the greatest in Spain. That the Queen hath given no rewards to any of the captains or officers, but only to my Lord Sandwich; and that was a bag of gold, which was no honourable present, of about £1,400 sterling. How recluse the Queen hath ever been, and all the voyage never come upon the deck, nor put her head out of her cabin; but did love my Lord’s music, and would send for it down to the stateroom, and she sit in her cabin within hearing of it. That my Lord was forced to have some clashing with the Council of Portugal about payment of the portion, before he could get it; which was, besides Tangier and a free trade in the Indies, two millions of crowns, half now, and the other half in twelve months. But they have brought but little money; but the rest in sugars and other commodities, and bills of exchange. That the King of Portugal is a very fool almost, and his mother do all, and he is a very poor Prince. After a morning draught at the Star in Cheapside, I took him to the Exchange, thence home, but my wife having dined, I took him to Fish Street, and there we had a couple of lobsters, and dined upon them, and much discourse. And so I to the office, and that being done, Sir W. Penn and I to Deptford by water to Captain Rooth’s to see him, he being very sick, and by land home, calling at Halfway house, where we eat and drank. So home and to bed.
. To trimming myself, which I have this week done every morning, with a pumice stone1431 which I learnt of Mr. Marsh, when I was last at Portsmouth; and I find it very easy, speedy, and cleanly, and shall continue the practice of it. To church, and heard a good sermon of Mr. Woodcocke’s at our church; only in his latter prayer for a woman in childbed, he prayed that God would deliver her from the hereditary curse of childbearing, which seemed a pretty strange expression. Dined at home, and Mr. Creed with me. This day I had the first dish of peas I have had this year. After discourse he and I abroad, and walked up and down, and looked into many churches, among others Mr. Baxter’s at Blackfryers. Then to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lord takes physic, so I did not see him, but with Captn. Ferrers in Mr. George Montagu’s coach to Charing Cross; and there at the Triumph tavern he showed me some Portugal ladies, which are come to town before the Queen. They are not handsome, and their farthingales a strange dress.1432 Many ladies and persons of quality come to see them. I find nothing in them that is pleasing; and I see they have learnt to kiss and look freely up and down already, and I do believe will soon forget the recluse practice of their own country. They complain much for lack of good water to drink. So to the Wardrobe back on foot and supped with my Lady, and so home, and after a walk upon the leads with my wife, to prayers and bed. The King’s guards and some City companies do walk up and down the town these five or six days; which makes me think, and they do say, there are some plots in laying. God keep us.
. Up by four o’clock in the morning, and fell to the preparing of some accounts for my Lord of Sandwich. By and by, by appointment comes Mr. Moore, and, by what appears to us at present, we found that my Lord is above £7,000 in debt, and that he hath money coming into him that will clear all, and so we think him clear, but very little money in his purse. So to my Lord’s, and after he was ready, we spent an hour with him, giving him an account thereof; and he having some £6,000 in his hands, remaining of the King’s, he is resolved to make use of that, and get off of it as well as he can, which I like well of, for else I fear he will scarce get beforehand again a great while. Thence home, and to the Trinity House; where the Brethren (who have been at Deptford choosing a new Maister; which is Sir J. Minnes, notwithstanding Sir W. Batten did contend highly for it: at which I am not a little pleased, because of his proud lady) about three o’clock came hither, and so to dinner. I seated myself close by Mr. Prin, who, in discourse with me, fell upon what records he hath of the lust and wicked lives of the nuns heretofore in England, and showed me out of his pocket one wherein thirty nuns for their lust were ejected of their house, being not fit to live there, and by the Pope’s command to be put, however, into other nunneries. I could not stay to end dinner with them, but rose, and privately went out, and by water to my brother’s, and thence to take my wife to the Redd Bull,1433 where we saw Doctor Faustus,1434 but so wretchedly and poorly done, that we were sick of it, and the worse because by a former resolution it is to be the last play we are to see till Michaelmas. Thence homewards by coach, through Moorefields, where we stood awhile, and saw the wrestling. At home, got my lute upon the leads, and there played, and so to bed.
. To my Lord this morning, and thence to my brother’s, where I found my father, poor man, come, which I was glad to see. I stayed with him till noon, and then he went to my cousin Scott’s to dinner, who had invited him. He tells me his alterations of the house and garden at Brampton, which please me well. I could not go with him, and so we parted at Ludgate, and I home to dinner, and to the office all the afternoon, and music in my chamber alone at night, and so to bed.
. Up early to put things in order in my chamber, and then to my Lord’s, with whom I spoke about several things, and so up and down in several places about business with Mr. Creed, among others to Mr. Wotton’s the shoemaker, and there drank our morning draught, and then home about noon, and by and by comes my father by appointment to dine with me, which we did very merrily, I desiring to make him as merry as I can, while the poor man is in town. After dinner comes my uncle Wight and sat awhile and talked with us, and thence we three to the Mum House at Leadenhall, and there sat awhile. Then I left them, and to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lord gone to Hampton Court. Here I stayed all the afternoon till late with Creed and Captain Ferrers, thinking whether we should go tomorrow together to Hampton Court, but Ferrers his wife coming in by and by to the house with the young ladies (with whom she had been abroad), she was unwilling to go, whereupon I was willing to put off our going, and so home, but still my mind was hankering after our going tomorrow. So to bed.
. At home all the morning. At noon to the Wardrobe, and dined with my Lady, and after dinner stayed long talking with her; then homeward, and in Lombard Street was called out of a window by Alderman Backwell,1435 where I went, and saluted his lady, a very pretty woman. Here was Mr. Creed, and it seems they have been under some disorder in fear of a fire at the next door, and had been removing their goods, but the fire was over before I came. Thence home, and with my wife and the two maids, and the boy, took boat and to Foxhall,1436 where I had not been a great while. To the Old Spring Garden, and there walked long, and the wenches gathered pinks. Here we stayed, and seeing that we could not have anything to eat, but very dear, and with long stay, we went forth again without any notice taken of us, and so we might have done if we had had anything. Thence to the New one, where I never was before, which much exceeds the other; and here we also walked, and the boy crept through the hedge and gathered abundance of roses, and, after a long walk, passed out of doors as we did in the other place, and here we had cakes and powdered beef1437 and ale, and so home again by water with much pleasure. This day, being the King’s birthday, was very solemnly observed; and the more, for that the Queen this day comes to Hampton Court. In the evening, bonfires were made, but nothing to the great number that was heretofore at the burning of the Rump. So to bed.
. This morning I made up my accounts, and find myself de claro worth about £530, and no more, so little have I increased it since my last reckoning; but I confess I have laid out much money in clothes. Upon a sudden motion I took my wife, and Sarah and Will by water, with some victuals with us, as low as Gravesend, intending to have gone into the Hope to the Royal James,1438 to have seen the ship and Mr. Shepley, but meeting Mr. Shepley in a hoy, bringing up my Lord’s things, she and I went on board, and sailed up with them as far as halfway tree, very glad to see Mr. Shepley. Here we saw a little Turk and a negroe, which are intended for pages to the two young ladies. Many birds and other pretty novelties there was, but I was afeard of being louzy, and so took boat again, and got to London before them, all the way, coming and going, reading in the Wallflower1439 with great pleasure. So home, and thence to the Wardrobe, where Mr. Shepley was come with the things. Here I stayed talking with my Lady, who is preparing to go tomorrow to Hampton Court. So home, and at ten o’clock at night Mr. Shepley came to sup with me. So we had a dish of mackerell and peas, and so he bid us good night, going to lie on board the hoy, and I to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and so up to make up my Journal for these two or three days past. Then came Anthony Joyce, who duns me for money for the tallow which he served in lately by my desire, which vexes me, but I must get it him the next by my promise. By and by to Whitehall, hearing that Sir G. Carteret was come to town, but I could not find him, and so back to Tom’s, and thence I took my father to my house, and there he dined with me, discoursing of our businesses with uncle Thomas and T. Trice. After dinner he departed and I to the office where we met, and that being done I walked to my Brother’s and the Wardrobe and other places about business, and so home, and had Sarah to comb my head clean, which I found so foul with powdering and other troubles, that I am resolved to try how I can keep my head dry without powder; and I did also in a sudden fit cut off all my beard, which I had been a great while bringing up, only that I may with my pumice-stone do my whole face, as I now do my chin, and to save time, which I find a very easy way and gentile. So she also washed my feet in a bath of herbs, and so to bed. This month ends with very fair weather for a great while together. My health pretty well, but only wind do now and then torment me … extremely. The Queen is brought a few days since to Hampton Court; and all people say of her to be a very fine and handsome lady, and very discreet; and that the King is pleased enough with her which, I fear, will put Madam Castlemaine’s nose out of joint. The Court is wholly now at Hampton. A peace with Argier1440 is lately made; which is also good news. My father is lately come to town to see us, and though it has cost and will cost more money, yet I am pleased with the alteraeons on my house at Brampton. My Lord Sandwich is lately come with the Queen from sea, very well and in good repute. Upon an audit of my estate I find myself worth about £530 de claro. The Act for Uniformity is lately printed,1441 which, it is thought, will make mad work among the Presbyterian ministers. People of all sides are very much discontented; some thinking themselves used, contrary to promise, too hardly; and the other, that they are not rewarded so much as they expected by the King. God keep us all. I have by a late oath obliged myself from wine and plays, of which I find good effect.
June 1662
. At church in the morning. A stranger made a very good sermon. Dined at home, and Mr. Spong came to see me; so he and I sat down a little to sing some French psalms, and then comes Mr. Shepley and Mr. Moore, and so we to dinner, and after dinner to church again, where a Presbyter made a sad and long sermon, which vexed me, and so home, and so to walk on the leads, and supper and to prayers and bed.
. Up early about business and then to the Wardrobe with Mr. Moore, and spoke to my Lord about the exchange of the crusados1442 into sterling money, and other matters. So to my father at Tom’s, and after some talk with him away home, and by and by comes my father to dinner with me, and then by coach, setting him down in Cheapside, my wife and I to Mrs. Clarke’s at Westminster, the first visit that ever we both made her yet. We found her in a deshabille, intending to go to Hampton Court tomorrow. We had much pretty discourse, and a very fine lady she is. Thence by water to Salisbury Court, and Mrs. Turner not being at home, home by coach, and so after walking on the leads and supper to bed. This day my wife put on her slasht waistcoat, which is very pretty.
. Up by four o’clock and to my business in my chamber, to even accounts with my Lord and myself, and very fain I would become master of £1,000, but I have not above £530 toward it yet. At the office all the morning, and Mr. Coventry brought his patent and took his place with us this morning. Upon our making a contract, I went, as I use to do, to draw the heads thereof, but Sir W. Penn most basely told me that the Comptroller is to do it, and so begun to employ Mr. Turner about it, at which I was much vexed, and begun to dispute; and what with the letter of the Duke’s orders, and Mr. Barlow’s letter, and the practice of our predecessors, which Sir G. Carteret knew best when he was Comptroller, it was ruled for me. What Sir J. Minnes will do when he comes I know not, but Sir W. Penn did it like a base raskall, and so I shall remember him while I live. After office done, I went down to the Tower Wharf, where Mr. Creed and Shepley was ready with three chests of the crusados, being about £6,000, ready to bring to shore to my house, which they did, and put it in my further cellar, and Mr. Shepley took the key. I to my father and Dr. Williams and Tom Trice, by appointment, in the Old Bailey, to Short’s, the alehouse, but could come to no terms with T. Trice. Thence to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lady come from Hampton Court, where the Queen hath used her very civilly; and my Lady tells me is a most pretty woman, at which I am glad. Yesterday (Sir R. Ford told me) the Aldermen of the City did attend her in their habits, and did present her with a gold Cup and £1,000 in gold therein. But, he told me, that they are so poor in their Chamber, that they were fain to call two or three Aldermen to raise fines to make up this sum, among which was Sir W. Warren. Home and to the office, where about 8 at night comes Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Batten, and so we did some business, and then home and to bed, my mind troubled about Sir W. Penn, his playing the rogue with me today, as also about the charge of money that is in my house, which I had forgot; but I made the maids to rise and light a candle, and set it in the dining room, to scare away thieves, and so to sleep.
. Up early, and Mr. Moore comes to me and tells me that Mr. Barnwell is dead, which troubles me something, and the more for that I believe we shall lose Mr. Shepley’s company. By and by Sir W. Batten and I by water to Woolwich; and there saw an experiment made of Sir R. Ford’s Holland’s yarn (about which we have lately had so much stir; and I have much concerned myself for our ropemaker, Mr. Hughes, who has represented it as bad), and we found it to be very bad, and broke sooner than, upon a fair triall, five threads of that against four of Riga yarn; and also that some of it had old stuff that had been tarred, covered over with new hemp, which is such a cheat as hath not been heard of. I was glad of this discovery, because I would not have the King’s workmen discouraged (as Sir W. Batten do most basely do) from representing the faults of merchants’ goods, where there is any. After eating some fish that we had bought upon the water at Falconer’s, we went to Woolwich, and there viewed our frames of our houses, and so home, and I to my Lord’s, who I find resolved to buy Brampton Manor of Sir Peter Ball,1443 at which I am glad. Thence to Whitehall, and showed Sir G. Carteret the cheat, and so to the Wardrobe, and there stayed and supped with my Lady. My Lord eating nothing, but writes letters tonight to several places, he being to go out of town tomorrow. So late home and to bed.
. To the Wardrobe, and there my Lord did enquire my opinion of Mr. Moore, which I did give to the best advantage I could, and by that means shall get him joined with Mr. Townsend in the Wardrobe business. He did also give me all Mr. Shepley’s and Mr. Moore’s accounts to view, which I am glad of, as being his great trust in me, and I would willingly keep up a good interest with him. So took leave of him (he being to go this day) and to the office, where they were just sat down, and I showed them yesterday’s discovery, and have got Sir R. Ford to be my enemy by it; but I care not, for it is my duty, and so did get his bill stopped for the present. To dinner, and found Dr. Thos. Pepys at my house; but I was called from dinner by a note from Mr. Moore to Alderman Backwell’s, to see some thousands of my Lord’s crusados weighed, and we find that 3,000 come to about £530 or 40 generally. Home again and found my father there; we talked a good while and so parted. We met at the office in the afternoon to finish Mr. Gauden’s accounts, but did not do them quite. In the evening with Mr. Moore to Backwell’s with another 1,200 crusados and saw them weighed, and so home and to bed.
. At my office all alone all the morning, and the smith being with me about other things, did open a chest that hath stood ever since I came to the office, in my office, and there we found a modell of a fine ship, which I long to know whether it be the King’s or Mr. Turner’s. At noon to the Wardrobe by appointment to meet my father, who did come and was well treated by my Lady, who tells me she has some thoughts to send her two little boys to our house at Brampton, but I have got leave for them to go along with me and my wife to Hampton Court tomorrow or Sunday. Thence to my brother Tom’s, where we found a letter from Pall that my mother is dangerously ill in fear of death, which troubles my father and me much, but I hope it is otherwise, the letter being four days old since it was writ. Home and at my office, and with Mr. Hater set things in order till evening, and so home and to bed by daylight. This day at my father’s desire I lent my brother Tom £20, to be repaid out of the proceeds of Sturtlow when we can sell it. I sent the money all in new money by my boy from Alderman Backwell’s.
. To the office, where all the morning, and I find Mr. Coventry is resolved to do much good, and to enquire into all the miscarriages of the office. At noon with him and Sir W. Batten to dinner at Trinity House; where, among others, Sir J. Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, was, who says that yesterday Sir H. Vane had a full hearing at the King’s Bench, and is found guilty; and that he did never hear any man argue more simply than he in all his life, and so others say. My mind in great trouble whether I should go as I intended to Hampton Court tomorrow or no. At last resolved the contrary, because of the charge thereof, and I am afraid now to bring in any accounts for journeys, and so will others I suppose be, because of Mr. Coventry’s prying into them. Thence sent for to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there talked with him a good while. I perceive, as he told me, were it not that Mr. Coventry had already feathered his nest in selling of places, he do like him very well, and hopes great good from him. But he complains so of lack of money, that my heart is very sad, under the apprehension of the fall of the office. At my office all the afternoon, and at night hear that my father is gone into the country, but whether to Richmond as he intended, and thence to meet us at Hampton Court on Monday, I know not, or to Brampton. At which I am much troubled. In the evening home and to bed.
. Lay till church-time in bed, and so up and to church, and there I found Mr. Mills come home out of the country again, and preached but a lazy sermon. Home and dined with my wife, and so to church again with her. Thence walked to my Lady’s, and there supped with her, and merry, among other things, with the parrot which my Lord hath brought from the sea, which speaks very well, and cries Pall so pleasantly, that made my Lord give it my Lady Paulina; but my Lady, her mother, do not like it. Home, and observe my man Will to walk with his cloak flung over his shoulder, like a Ruffian, which, whether it was that he might not be seen to walk along with the footboy, I know not, but I was vexed at it; and coming home, and after prayers, I did ask him where he learned that immodest garb, and he answered me that it was not immodest, or some such slight answer, at which I did give him two boxes on the ears, which I never did before, and so was after a little troubled at it.
. Early up and at the office with Mr. Hater, making my alphabet of contracts, upon the dispatch of which I am now very intent, for that I am resolved much to enquire into the price of commodities. Dined at home, and after dinner to Greatorex’s, and with him and another stranger to the Tavern, but I drank no wine. He recommended Bond, of our end of the town, to teach me to measure timber, and some other things that I would learn, in order to my office. Thence back again to the office, and there T. Hater and I did make an end of my alphabet, which did much please me. So home to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, much business; and great hopes of bringing things, by Mr. Coventry’s means, to a good condition in the office. Dined at home, Mr. Hunt with us; to the office again in the afternoon, but not meeting, as was intended, I went to my brother’s and bookseller’s, and other places about business, and paid off all for books to this day, and do not intend to buy any more of any kind a good while, though I had a great mind to have bought the King’s works, as they are new printed in folio, and present it to my Lord; but I think it will be best to save the money. So home and to bed.1444
. At the office all the morning, Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, and I about the Victualler’s accounts. Then home to dinner and to the office again all the afternoon, Mr. Hater and I writing over my Alphabet fair, in which I took great pleasure to rule the lines and to have the capitall words wrote with red ink. So home and to supper. This evening Savill the Paynter came and did varnish over my wife’s picture and mine, and I paid him for my little picture £3, and so am clear with him. So after supper to bed. This day I had a letter from my father that he is got down well, and found my mother pretty well again. So that I am vexed with all my heart at Pall for writing to him so much concerning my mother’s illness (which I believe was not so great), so that he should be forced to hasten down on the sudden back into the country without taking leave, or having any pleasure here.
. This morning I tried on my riding cloth suit with close knees, the first that ever I had; and I think they will be very convenient, if not too hot to wear any other open knees after them. At the office all the morning, where we had a full Board, viz., Sir G. Carteret, Sir John Mennes, Sir W. Batten, Mr. Coventry, Sir W. Penn, Mr. Pett, and myself. Among many other businesses, I did get a vote signed by all, concerning my issuing of warrants, which they did not smell the use I intend to make of it; but it is to plead for my clerks to have their right of giving out all warrants, at which I am not a little pleased. But a great difference happened between Sir G. Carteret and Mr. Coventry, about passing the Victualler’s account, and whether Sir George is to pay the Victualler his money, or the Exchequer; Sir George claiming it to be his place to save his threepences. It ended in anger, and I believe will come to be a question before the King and Council. I did what I could to keep myself unconcerned in it, having some things of my own to do before I would appear high in anything. Thence to dinner, by Mr. Gauden’s invitation, to the Dolphin, where a good dinner; but what is to myself a great wonder; that with ease I past the whole dinner without drinking a drop of wine. After dinner to the office, my head full of business, and so home, and it being the longest day in the year1445 I made all my people go to bed by daylight. But after I was abed and asleep, a note came from my brother Tom to tell me that my cousin Anne Pepys, of Worcestershire, her husband is dead, and she married again, and her second husband1446 in town, and intends to come and see me tomorrow.
. Up by 4 o’clock in the morning, and read Cicero’s Second Oration against Catiline, which pleased me exceedingly; and more I discern therein than ever I thought was to be found in him; but I perceive it was my ignorance, and that he is as good a writer as ever I read in my life. By and by to Sir G. Carteret’s, to talk with him about yesterday’s difference at the office; and offered my service to look into any old books or papers that I have, that may make for him. He was well pleased therewith, and did much inveigh against Mr. Coventry; telling me how he had done him service in the Parliament, when Prin had drawn up things against him for taking of money for places; that he did at his desire, and upon his letters, keep him off from doing it. And many other things he told me, as how the King was beholden to him, and in what a miserable condition his family would be, if he should die before he hath cleared his accounts. Upon the whole, I do find that he do much esteem of me, and is my friend, and I may make good use of him. Thence to several places about business, among others to my brother’s, and there Tom Beneere the barber trimmed me. Thence to my Lady’s, and there dined with her, Mr. Laxton, Gibbons, and Goldgroove with us, and after dinner some music, and so home to my business, and in the evening my wife and I, and Sarah and the boy, a most pleasant walk to Halfway house, and so home and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock in the morning and upon business at my office. Then we sat down to business, and about 11 o’clock, having a room got ready for us, we all went out to the Tower-hill; and there, over against the scaffold, made on purpose this day, saw Sir Henry Vane brought.1447 A very great press of people. He made a long speech, many times interrupted by the Sheriff and others there; and they would have taken his paper out of his hand, but he would not let it go. But they caused all the books of those that writ after him to be given the Sheriff; and the trumpets were brought under the scaffold that he might not be heard. Then he prayed, and so fitted himself, and received the blow; but the scaffold was so crowded that we could not see it done. But Boreman,1448 who had been upon the scaffold, came to us and told us, that first he began to speak of the irregular proceeding against him; that he was, against Magna Charta, denied to have his exceptions against the indictment allowed; and that there he was stopped by the Sheriff. Then he drew out his, paper of notes, and begun to tell them first his life; that he was born a gentleman, that he was bred up and had the quality of a gentleman, and to make him in the opinion of the world more a gentleman, he had been, till he was seventeen years old, a good fellow, but then it pleased God to lay a foundation of grace in his heart, by which he was persuaded, against his worldly interest, to leave all preferment and go abroad, where he might serve God with more freedom. Then he was called home, and made a member of the Long Parliament; where he never did, to this day, anything against his conscience, but all for the glory of God. Here he would have given them an account of the proceedings of the Long Parliament, but they so often interrupted him, that at last he was forced to give over: and so fell into prayer for England in general, then for the churches in England, and then for the City of London: and so fitted himself for the block, and received the blow. He had a blister, or issue, upon his neck, which he desired them not hurt: he changed not his colour or speech to the last, but died justifying himself and the cause he had stood for; and spoke very confidently of his being presently at the right hand of Christ; and in all, things appeared the most resolved man that ever died in that manner, and showed more of heat than cowardice, but yet with all humility and gravity. One asked him why he did not pray for the King. He answered, “Nay,” says he, “you shall see I can pray for the King: I pray God bless him!” The King had given his body to his friends; and, therefore, he told them that he hoped they would be civil to his body when dead; and desired they would let him die like a gentleman and a Christian, and not crowded and pressed as he was. So to the office a little, and so to the Trinity-house all of us to dinner; and then to the office again all the afternoon till night. So home and to bed. This day, I hear, my Lord Peterborough is come unexpected from Tangier, to give the King an account of the place, which, we fear, is in none of the best condition. We had also certain news today that the Spaniard is before Lisbon with thirteen sail; six Dutch, and the rest his own ships; which will, I fear, be ill for Portugal. I writ a letter of all this day’s proceedings to my Lord, at Hinchingbroke, who, I hear, is very well pleased with the work there.
. To church in the morning and home to dinner, where come my brother Tom and Mr. Fisher, my cousin, Nan Pepys’s second husband, who, I perceive, is a very good-humoured man, an old cavalier. I made as much of him as I could, and were merry, and am glad she hath light of so good a man. They gone, to church again; but my wife not being dressed as I would have her, I was angry, and she, when she was out of doors in her way to church, returned home again vexed. But I to church, Mr. Mills, an ordinary sermon. So home, and found my wife and Sarah gone to a neighbour church, at which I was not much displeased. By and by she comes again, and, after a word or two, good friends. And then her brother came to see her, and he being gone she told me that she believed he was married and had a wife worth £500 to him, and did inquire how he might dispose the money to the best advantage, but I forbore to advise her till she could certainly tell me how things are with him, being loth to meddle too soon with him. So to walk upon the leads, and to supper, and to bed.
. Up before four o’clock, and after some business took Will forth, and he and I walked over the Tower Hill, but the gate not being open we walked through St. Catharine’s and Ratcliff (I think it is) by the waterside above a mile before we could get a boat, and so over the water in a scull (which I have not done a great while), and walked finally to Deptford, where I saw in what forwardness the work is for Sir W. Batten’s house and mine, and it is almost ready. I also, with Mr. Davis, did view my cousin Joyce’s tallow, and compared it with the Irish tallow we bought lately, and found ours much more white, but as soft as it; now what is the fault, or whether it be or no a fault, I know not. So walked home again as far as over against the Tower, and so over and home, where I found Sir W. Penn and Sir John Minnes discoursing about Sir John Minnes’s house and his coming to live with us, and I think he intends to have Mr. Turner’s house and he to come to his lodgings, which I shall be very glad of. We three did go to Mr. Turner’s to view his house, which I think was to the end that Sir John Minnes might see it. Then by water with my wife to the Wardrobe, and dined there; and in the afternoon with all the children by water to Greenwich, where I showed them the King’s yacht, the house, and the park, all very pleasant; and so to the tavern, and had the music of the house, and so merrily home again. Will and I walked home from the Wardrobe, having left my wife at the Tower Wharf coming by, whom I found gone to bed not very well. … So to bed.
. Up, and Mr. Mayland comes to me and borrowed 30s. of me to be paid again out of the money coming to him in the James and Charles for his late voyage. So to the office, where all the morning. So home to dinner, my wife not being well, but however dined with me. So to the office, and at Sir W. Batten’s, where we all met by chance and talked, and they drank wine; but I forebore all their healths. Sir John Minnes, I perceive, is most excellent company. So home and to bed betimes by daylight.
. Up early; and after reading a little in Cicero, I made me ready and to my office, where all the morning very busy. At noon Mr. Creed came to me about business, and he and I walked as far as Lincoln’s Inn Fields together. After a turn or two in the walks we parted, and I to my Lord Crew’s and dined with him; where I hear the courage of Sir H. Vane at his death is talked on everywhere as a miracle. Thence to Somerset House to Sir J. Winter’s chamber by appointment, and met Mr. Pett, where he and I read over his last contract with the King for the Forest of Dean, whereof I took notes because of this new one that he is now in making. That done he and I walked to Lilly’s,1449 the painter’s, where we saw among other rare things, the Duchess of York, her whole body, sitting instate in a chair, in white sattin, and another of the King, that is not finished; most rare things. I did give the fellow something that showed them us, and promised to come some other time, and he would show me Lady Castlemaine’s, which I could not then see, it being locked up! Thence to Wright’s,1450 the painter’s: but, Lord! the difference that is between their two works. Thence to the Temple, and there spoke with my cousin Roger, who gives me little hopes in the business between my Uncle Tom and us. So Mr. Pett (who stayed at his son’s chamber) and I by coach to the old Exchange, and there parted, and I home and at the office till night. My windows at my office are made clean today and a casement in my closet. So home, and after some merry discourse in the kitchen with my wife and maids as I nowadays often do, I being well pleased with both my maids, to bed.
. Up by five o’clock, and while my man Will was getting himself ready to come up to me I took and played upon my lute a little. So to dress myself, and to my office to prepare things against we meet this morning. We sat long today, and had a great private business before us about contracting with Sir W. Rider, Mr. Cutler, and Captain Cocke, for 500 ton of hemp, which we went through, and I am to draw up the conditions. Home to dinner, where I found Mr. Moore, and he and I cast up our accounts together and evened them, and then with the last chest of crusados to Alderman Backwell’s, by the same token his lady going to take coach stood in the shop, and having a gilded glassful of perfumed comfits given her by Don Duarte de Silva,1451 the Portugal merchant, that is come over with the Queen, I did offer at a taste, and so she poured some out into my hand, and, though good, yet pleased me the better coming from a pretty lady. So home and at the office preparing papers and things, and indeed my head has not been so full of business a great while, and with so much pleasure, for I begin to see the pleasure it gives. God give me health. So to bed.
. Up by four or five o’clock, and to the office, and there drew up the agreement between the King and Sir John Winter1452 about the Forrest of Deane; and having done it, he came himself (I did not know him to be the Queen’s Secretary before, but observed him to be a man of fine parts); and we read it, and both liked it well. That done, I turned to the Forrest of Deane, in Speede’s Mapps, and there he showed me how it lies; and the Lea-bayly,1453 with the great charge of carrying it to Lydny, and many other things worth my knowing; and I do perceive that I am very short in my business by not knowing many times the geographical part of my business. At my office till Mr. Moore took me out and at my house looked over our papers again, and upon our evening accounts did give full discharges one to the other, and in his and many other accounts I perceive I shall be better able to give a true balance of my estate to myself within a day or two than I have been this twelve months. Then he and I to Alderman Backwell’s and did the like there, and I gave one receipt for all the money I have received thence upon the receipt of my Lord’s crusados. Then I went to the Exchange, and hear that the merchants have a great fear of a breach with the Spaniard; for they think he will not brook our having Tangier, Dunkirk, and Jamaica; and our merchants begin to draw home their estates as fast as they can. Then to Pope’s Head Ally, and there bought me a pair of tweezers, cost me 14s., the first thing like a bauble I have bought a good while, but I do it with some trouble of mind, though my conscience tells me that I do it with an apprehension of service in my office to have a book to write memorandums in, and a pair of compasses in it; but I confess myself the willinger to do it because I perceive by my accounts that I shall be better by £30 than I expected to be. But by tomorrow night I intend to see to the bottom of all my accounts. Then home to dinner, where Mr. Moore met me. Then he went away, and I to the office and dispatch much business. So in the evening, my wife and I and Jane over the water to the Halfway-house, a pretty, pleasant walk, but the wind high. So home again and to bed.
. Up about four o’clock, and settled some private business of my own, then made me ready and to the office to prepare things for our meeting today. By and by we met, and at noon Sir W. Penn and I to the Trinity House; where was a feast made by the Wardens, when great good cheer, and much, but ordinary company. The Lieutenant of the Tower, upon my demanding how Sir H. Vane died, told me that he died in a passion; but all confess with so much courage as never man died. Thence to the office, where Sir W. Rider, Capt. Cocke, and Mr. Cutler came by appointment to meet me to confer about the contract between us and them for 500 tons of hemp. That being done, I did other business and so went home, and there found Mr. Creed, who stayed talking with my wife and me an hour or two, and I put on my riding cloth suit, only for him to see how it is, and I think it will do very well. He being gone, and I hearing from my wife and the maids’ complaints made of the boy, I called him up, and with my whip did whip him till I was not able to stir, and yet I could not make him confess any of the lies that they tax him with. At last, not willing to let him go away a conqueror, I took him in task again, and pulled off his frock to his shirt, and whipped him till he did confess that he did drink the whey, which he had denied, and pulled a pink, and above all did lay the candlestick upon the ground in his chamber, which he had denied this quarter of a year. I confess it is one of the greatest wonders that ever I met with that such a little boy as he could possibly be able to suffer half so much as he did to maintain a lie. I think I must be forced to put him away. So to bed, with my arm very weary.
. This day I first put on my slasht doublet, which I like very well. Mr. Shepley came to me in the morning, telling me that he and my Lord came to town from Hinchinbroke last night. He and I spend an hour in looking over his account, and then walked to the Wardrobe, all the way discoursing of my Lord’s business. He tells me to my great wonder that Mr. Barnwell is dead £500 in debt to my Lord. By and by my Lord came from church, and I dined, with some others, with him, he very merry, and after dinner took me aside and talked of state and other matters. By and by to my brother Tom’s and took him out with me homewards (calling at the Wardrobe to talk a little with Mr. Moore), and so to my house, where I paid him all I owed him, and did make the £20 I lately lent him up to £40, for which he shall give bond to Mr. Shepley, for it is his money. So my wife and I to walk in the garden, where all our talk was against Sir W. Penn, against whom I have lately had cause to be much prejudiced. By and by he and his daughter came out to walk, so we took no notice of them a great while, at last in going home spoke a word or two, and so good night, and to bed. This day I am told of a Portugal lady, at Hampton Court, that hath dropped a child already since the Queen’s coming, but the king would not have them searched whose it is; and so it is not commonly known yet. Coming home tonight, I met with Will. Swan, who do talk as high for the Fanatics as ever he did in his life; and do pity my Lord Sandwich and me that we should be given up to the wickedness of the world; and that a fall is coming upon us all; for he finds that he and his company are the true spirit of the nation, and the greater part of the nation too, who will have liberty of conscience in spite of this “Act of Uniformity,” or they will die; and if they may not preach abroad, they will preach in their own houses. He told me that certainly Sir H. Vane must be gone to Heaven, for he died as much a martyr and saint as ever man did; and that the King hath lost more by that man’s death, than he will get again a good while. At all which I know not what to think; but, I confess, I do think that the Bishops will never be able to carry it so high as they do.
. Up early, this morning, and my people are taking down the hangings and things in my house because of the great dust that is already made by the pulling down of Sir W. Batten’s house, and will be by my own when I come to it. To my office, and there hard at work all the morning. At noon to the Exchange to meet Dr. Williams, who sent me this morning notice of his going into the country tomorrow, but could not find him, but meeting with Frank Moore, my Lord Lambeth’s man formerly, we, and two or three friends of his did go to a tavern, and there they drank, but I nothing but small beer. In the next room one was playing very finely of the dulcimer, which well played I like well, but one of our own company, a talking fellow, did in discourse say much of this Act against Seamen,1454 for their being brought to account; and that it was made on purpose for my Lord Sandwich, who was in debt £100,000, and hath been forced to have pardon oftentimes from Oliver for the same: at which I was vexed at him, but thought it not worth my trouble to oppose what he said, but took leave and went home, and after a little dinner to my office again, and in the evening Sir W. Warren came to me about business, and that being done, discoursing of deals, I did offer to go along with him among his deal ships, which we did to half a score, where he showed me the difference between Dram, Swinsound, Christiania, and others, and told me many pleasant notions concerning their manner of cutting and sawing them by watermills, and the reason how deals become dearer and cheaper, among others, when the snow is not so great as to fill up the values that they may pass from hill to hill over the snow, then it is dear carriage. From on board he took me to his yard, where vast and many places of deals, sparrs, and bulks, etc., the difference between which I never knew before, and indeed am very proud of this evening’s work. He had me into his house, which is most pretty and neat and well furnished. After a glass, not of wine, for I would not be tempted to drink any, but a glass of mum, I well home by water, but it being late was forced to land at the Custom House, and so home and to bed, and after I was abed, letters came from the Duke for the fitting out of four ships forthwith from Portsmouth (I know not yet for what) so I was forced to make Will get them wrote, and signed them in bed and sent them away by express. And so to sleep.
. Up early and to my office, putting things in order against we sit. There came to me my cousin Harry Alcocke, whom I much respect, to desire (by a letter from my father to me, where he had been some days) my help for him to some place. I proposed the sea to him, and I think he will take it, and I hope do well. Sat all the morning, and I bless God I find that by my diligence of late and still, I do get ground in the office every day. At noon to the ’Change, where I begin to be known also, and so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon dispatching business. At night news is brought me that Field the rogue hath this day cast me at Guildhall in £30 for his imprisonment, to which I signed his commitment with the rest of the officers; but they having been parliament-men, that he hath begun the law with me; and threatens more, but I hope the Duke of York will bear me out. At night home, and Mr. Spong came to me, and so he and I sat singing upon the leads till almost ten at night and so he went away (a pretty, harmless, and ingenious man), and I to bed, in a very great content of mind, which I hope by my care still in my business will continue to me.
. Up by four o’clock, and put my accounts with my Lord into a very good order, and so to my office, where having put many things in order I went to the Wardrobe, but found my Lord gone to Hampton Court. After discourse with Mr. Shepley we parted, and I into Thames Street, beyond the Bridge, and there enquired among the shops the price of tar and oil, and do find great content in it, and hope to save the King money by this practice. So home to dinner, and then to the ’Change, and so home again, and at the office preparing business against tomorrow all the afternoon. At night walked with my wife upon the leads, and so to supper and to bed. My wife having lately a great pain in her ear, for which this night she begins to take physic, and I have got cold and so have a great deal of my old pain.
. Up and took physic, but such as to go abroad with, only to loosen me, for I am bound. So to the office, and there all the morning sitting till noon, and then took Commissioner Pett home to dinner with me, where my stomach was turned when my sturgeon came to table, upon which I saw very many little worms creeping, which I suppose was through the staleness of the pickle. He being gone, comes Mr. Nicholson,1455 my old fellow-student at Magdalene, and we played three or four things upon the violin and basse, and so parted, and I to my office till night, and there came Mr. Shepley and Creed in order to settling some accounts of my Lord tonight, and so to bed.
. Up early, not quite rid of my pain. I took more physic, and so made myself ready to go forth. So to my Lord, who rose as soon as he heard I was there; and in his nightgown and shirt stood talking with me alone two hours, I believe, concerning his greatest matters of state and interest. Among other things, that his greatest design is, first, to get clear of all debts to the King for the Embassy money, and then a pardon. Then, to get his land settled; and then to, discourse and advise what is best for him, whether to keep his sea employment longer or no. For he do discern that the Duke would be willing to have him out, and that by Coventry’s means. And here he told me, how the terms at Argier1456 were wholly his; and that he did plainly tell Lawson and agree with him, that he would have the honour of them, if they should ever be agreed to; and that accordingly they did come over hither entitled, “Articles concluded on by Sir J. Lawson, according to instructions received from His Royal Highness James Duke of York, etc., and from His Excellency the Earl of Sandwich.” (Which however was more than needed; but Lawson tells my Lord in his letter, that it was not he, but the Council of War that would have “His Royal Highness” put into the title, though he did not contribute one word to it.) But the Duke of York did yesterday propose them to the Council, to be printed with this title: “Concluded on, by Sir J. Lawson, Knt.” and my Lord quite left out. Here I find my Lord very politic; for he tells me, that he discerns they design to set up Lawson as much as they can and that he do counterplot them by setting him up higher still; by which they will find themselves spoiled of their design, and at last grow jealous of Lawson. This he told me with much pleasure; and that several of the Duke’s servants, by name my Lord Barkeley [of Stratton], Mr. Talbot, and others, had complained to my Lord, of Coventry, and would have him out. My Lord do acknowledge that his greatest obstacle is Coventry. He did seem to hint such a question as this: “Hitherto I have been supported by the King and Chancellor against the Duke; but what if it should come about, that it should be the Duke and Chancellor against the King?” which, though he said it in these plain words, yet I could not fully understand it; but may more here after. My Lord did also tell me, that the Duke himself at Portsmouth did thank my Lord for all his pains and care; and that he perceived it must be the old Captains that must do the business; and that the new ones would spoil all. And that my Lord did very discreetly tell the Duke (though quite against his judgement and inclination), that, however, the King’s new captains ought to be borne with a little and encouraged. By which he will oblige that party, and prevent, as much as may be, their envy; but he says that certainly things will go to rack if ever the old captains should be wholly out, and the new ones only command. Then we fell to talk of Sir J. Minnes, of whom my Lord hath a very slight opinion, and that at first he did come to my Lord very displeased and sullen, and had studied and turned over all his books to see whether it had ever been that two flags should ride together in the main-top, but could not find it, nay, he did call his captains on board to consult them. So when he came by my Lord’s side, he took down his flag, and all the day did not hoist it again, but next day my Lord did tell him that it was not so fit to ride without a flag, and therefore told him that he should wear it in the foretop, for it seems my Lord saw his instructions, which were that he should not wear his flag in the maintop in the presence of the Duke or my Lord. But that after that my Lord did caress him, and he do believe him as much his friend as his interest will let him. I told my Lord of the late passage between Swan and me, and he told me another lately between Dr. Dell and himself when he was in the country. At last we concluded upon dispatching all his accounts as soon as possible, and so I parted, and to my office, where I met Sir W. Penn, and he desired a turn with me in the garden, where he told me the day now was fixed for his going into Ireland;1457 and that whereas I had mentioned some service he could do a friend of mine there, Saml. Pepys,1458 he told me he would most readily do what I would command him, and then told me we must needs eat a dish of meat together before he went, and so invited me and my wife on Sunday next. To all which I did give a cold consent, for my heart cannot love or have a good opinion of him since his last playing the knave with me, but he took no notice of our difference at all, nor I to him, and so parted, and I by water to Deptford, where I found Sir W. Batten alone paying off the yard three quarters pay. Thence to dinner, where too great a one was prepared, at which I was very much troubled, and wished I had not been there. After dinner comes Sir J. Minnes and some captains with him, who had been at a Councill of War today, who tell us they have acquitted Captain Hall, who was accused of cowardice in letting of old Winter, the Argier pirate, go away from him with a prize or two; and also Captain Diamond of the murder laid to him of a man that he had struck, but he lived many months after, till being drunk, he fell into the hold, and there broke his jaw and died, but they say there are such bawdy articles against him as never were heard of. … To the pay again, where I left them, and walked to Redriffe, and so home, and there came Mr. Creed and Shepley to me, and stayed till night about my Lord’s accounts, our proceeding to set them in order, and so parted and I to bed. Mr. Holliard had been with my wife today, and cured her of her pain in her ear by taking out a most prodigious quantity of hard wax that had hardened itself in the bottom of the ear, of which I am very glad.
. Up to my Lord’s and my own accounts, and so to the office, where all the forenoon sitting, and at noon by appointment to the Mitre, where Mr. Shepley gave me and Mr. Creed, and I had my uncle Wight with us, a dish of fish. Thence to the office again, and there all the afternoon till night, and so home, and after talking with my wife to bed. This day a genteel woman came to me, claiming kindred of me, as she had once done before, and borrowed 10s. of me, promising to repay it at night, but I hear nothing of her. I shall trust her no more. Great talk there is of a fear of a war with the Dutch; and we have order to pitch upon twenty ships to be forthwith set out; but I hope it is but a scarecrow to the world, to let them see that we can be ready for them; though, God knows! the King is not able to set out five ships at this present without great difficulty, we neither having money, credit, nor stores. My mind is now in a wonderful condition of quiet and content, more than ever in all my life, since my minding the business of my office, which I have done most constantly; and I find it to be the very effect of my late oaths against wine and plays, which, if God please, I will keep constant in, for now my business is a delight to me, and brings me great credit, and my purse increases too.
. Up by four o’clock, and to the settling of my own accounts, and I do find upon my monthly ballance, which I have undertaken to keep from month to month, that I am worth £650, the greatest sum that ever I was yet master of. I pray God give me a thankful spirit, and care to improve and increase it. To church with my wife, who this day put on her green petticoat of flowred satin, with fine white and gimp lace of her own putting on, which is very pretty. Home with Sir W. Penn to dinner by appointment, and to church again in the afternoon, and then home, Mr. Shepley coming to me about my Lord’s accounts, and in the evening parted, and we to supper again to Sir W. Penn. Whatever the matter is, he do much fawn upon me, and I perceive would not fall out with me, and his daughter mighty officious to my wife, but I shall never be deceived again by him, but do hate him and his traitorous tricks with all my heart. It was an invitation in order to his taking leave of us today, he being to go for Ireland in a few days. So home and prayers, and to bed.
. Up betimes, and to my office, where I found Griffen’s girl making it clean, but, God forgive me! what a mind I had to her, but did not meddle with her. She being gone, I fell upon boring holes for me to see from my closet into the great office, without going forth, wherein I please myself much. So settled to business, and at noon with my wife to the Wardrobe, and there dined, and stayed talking all the afternoon with my Lord, and about four o’clock took coach with my wife and Lady, and went toward my house, calling at my Lady Carteret’s, who was within by chance (she keeping altogether at Deptford for a month or two), and so we sat with her a little. Among other things told my Lady how my Lady Fanshaw1459 is fallen out with her only for speaking in behalf of the French, which my Lady wonders at, they having been formerly like sisters, but we see there is no true lasting friendship in the world. Thence to my house, where I took great pride to lead her through the Court by the hand, she being very fine, and her page carrying up her train. She stayed a little at my house, and then walked through the garden, and took water, and went first on board the King’s pleasure boat, which pleased her much. Then to Greenwich Park; and with much ado she was able to walk up to the top of the hill, and so down again, and took boat, and so through bridge to Blackfryers, and home, she being much pleased with the ramble in every particular of it. So we supped with her, and then walked home, and to bed.
Observations
This I take to be as bad a juncture as ever I observed. The King and his new Queen minding their pleasures at Hampton Court. All people discontented; some that the King do not gratify them enough; and the others, Fanatics of all sorts, that the King do take away their liberty of conscience; and the height of the Bishops, who I fear will ruin all again. They do much cry up the manner of Sir H. Vane’s death, and he deserves it. They clamour against the chimney-money, and say they will not pay it without force. And in the meantime, like to have war abroad; and Portugal to assist, when we have not money to pay for any ordinary layings-out at home. Myself all in dirt about building of my house and Sir W. Batten’s a story higher. Into a good way, fallen on minding my business and saving money, which God increase; and I do take great delight in it, and see the benefit of it. In a longing mind of going to see Brampton, but cannot get three days time, do what I can. In very good health, my wife and myself.
July 1662
. To the office, and there we sat till past noon, and then Captain Cuttance and I by water to Deptford, where the Royal James1460 (in which my Lord went out the last voyage, though [he] came back in the Charles) was paying off by Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn. So to dinner, where I had Mr. Sheply to dine with us, and from thence I sent to my Lord to know whether she should be a first rate, as the men would have her, or a second. He answered that we should forbear paying the officers and such whose pay differed upon the rate of the ship, till he could speak with his Royal Highness. To the Pay again after dinner, and seeing of Cooper, the mate of the ship, whom I knew in the Charles, I spoke to him about teaching the mathematics, and do please myself in my thoughts of learning of him, and bade him come to me in a day or two. Towards evening I left them, and to Redriffe by land, Mr. Cowly, the Clerk of the Cheque, with me, discoursing concerning the abuses of the yard, in which he did give me much light. So by water home, and after half an hour sitting talking with my wife, who was afeard I did intend to go with my Lord to fetch the Queen mother over, in which I did clear her doubts, I went to bed by daylight, in order to my rising early tomorrow.
. Up while the chimes went four, and to put down my journal, and so to my office, to read over such instructions as concern the officers of the Yard; for I am much upon seeing into the miscarriages there. By and by, by appointment, comes Commissioner Pett; and then a messenger from Mr. Coventry, who sits in his boat expecting us, and so we down to him at the Tower, and there took water all, and to Deptford (he in our passage taking notice how much difference there is between the old Captains for obedience and order, and the King’s new Captains, which I am very glad to hear him confess); and there we went into the Storehouse, and viewed first the provisions there, and then his books, but Mr. Davis himself was not there, he having a kinswoman in the house dead, for which, when by and by I saw him, he do trouble himself most ridiculously, as if there was never another woman in the world; in which so much laziness, as also in the Clerkes of the Cheque and Survey (which after one another we did examine), as that I do not perceive that there is one-third of their duties performed; but I perceive, to my great content, Mr. Coventry will have things reformed. So Mr. Coventry to London, and Pett and I to the Pay, where Sir Williams both were paying off the Royal James still, and so to dinner, and to the Pay again, where I did relieve several of my Lord Sandwich’s people, but was sorry to see them so peremptory, and at every word would, complain to my Lord, as if they shall have such a command over my Lord. In the evening I went forth and took a walk with Mr. Davis, and told him what had passed at his office today, and did give him my advice, and so with the rest by barge home and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock and to my office till 8 o’clock, writing over two copies of our contract with Sir W. Rider, etc., for 500 ton of hemp, which, because it is a secret, I have the trouble of writing over as well as drawing. Then home to dress myself, and so to the office, where another fray between Sir R. Ford and myself about his yarn, wherein I find the board to yield on my side, and was glad thereof, though troubled that the office should fall upon me of disobliging Sir Richard. At noon we all by invitation dined at the Dolphin with the Officers of the Ordnance; where Sir W. Compton, Mr. O’Neale,1461 and other great persons, were, and a very great dinner, but I drank as I still do but my allowance of wine. After dinner, was brought to Sir W. Compton a gun to discharge seven times,1462 the best of all devices that ever I saw, and very serviceable, and not a bauble; for it is much approved of, and many thereof made. Thence to my office all the afternoon as long as I could see, about setting many businesses in order. In the evening came Mr. Lewis to me, and very ingeniously did enquire whether I ever did look into the business of the Chest at Chatham;1463 and after my readiness to be informed did appear to him, he did produce a paper, wherein he stated the government of the Chest to me; and upon the whole did tell me how it hath ever been abused, and to this day is; and what a meritorious act it would be to look after it; which I am resolved to do, if God bless me; and do thank him very much for it. So home, and after a turn or two upon the leads with my wife, who has lately had but little of my company, since I begun to follow my business, but is contented therewith since she sees how I spend my time, and so to bed.
. Up by five o’clock, and after my journal put in order, to my office about my business, which I am resolved to follow, for every day I see what ground I get by it. By and by comes Mr. Cooper, mate of the Royal Charles, of whom I intend to learn mathematics, and do begin with him today, he being a very able man, and no great matter, I suppose, will content him. After an hour’s being with him at arithmetic (my first attempt being to learn the multiplication-table); then we parted till tomorrow. And so to my business at my office again till noon, about which time Sir W. Warren did come to me about business, and did begin to instruct me in the nature of fine timber and deals, telling me the nature of every sort; and from that we fell to discourse of Sir W. Batten’s corruption and the people that he employs, and from one discourse to another of the kind. I was much pleased with his company, and so stayed talking with him all alone at my office till 4 in the afternoon, without eating or drinking all day, and then parted, and I home to eat a bit, and so back again to my office; and toward the evening came Mr. Sheply, who is to go out of town tomorrow, and so he and I with much ado settled his accounts with my Lord, which, though they be true and honest, yet so obscure, that it vexes me to see in what manner they are kept. He being gone, and leave taken of him as of a man likely not to come to London again a great while, I eat a bit of bread and butter, and so to bed. This day I sent my brother Tom, at his request, my father’s old Bass Viol which he and I have kept so long, but I fear Tom will do little good at it.
. To my office all the morning, to get things ready against our sitting, and by and by we sat and did business all the morning, and at noon had Sir W. Penn, who I hate with all my heart for his base treacherous tricks, but yet I think it not policy to declare it yet, and his son William, to my house to dinner, where was also Mr. Creed and my cousin Harry Alcocke. I having some venison given me a day or two ago, and so I had a shoulder roasted, another baked, and the umbles1464 baked in a pie, and all very well done. We were merry as I could be in that company, and the more because I would not seem otherwise to Sir W. Penn, he being within a day or two to go for Ireland. After dinner he and his son went away, and Mr. Creed would, with all his rhetoric, have persuaded me to have gone to a play; and in good earnest I find my nature desirous to have gone, notwithstanding my promise and my business, to which I have lately kept myself so close, but I did refuse it, and I hope shall ever do so, and above all things it is considerable that my mind was never in my life in so good a condition of quiet as it has been since I have followed my business and seen myself to get greater and greater fitness in my employment, and honour every day more than other. So at my office all the afternoon, and then my mathematics at night with Mr. Cooper, and so to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed today with my wife merry and pleasant, and then rose and settled my accounts with my wife for housekeeping, and do see that my kitchen, besides wine, fire, candle, sope, and many other things, comes to about 30s. a week, or a little over. To church, where Mr. Mills made a lazy sermon. So home to dinner, where my brother Tom dined with me, and so my wife and I to church again in the afternoon, and that done I walked to the Wardrobe and spent my time with Mr. Creed and Mr. Moore talking about business; so up to supper with my Lady,1465 who tells me, with much trouble, that my Lady Castlemaine is still as great with the King, and that the King comes as often to her as ever he did, at which, God forgive me, I am well pleased. It began to rain, and so I borrowed a hat and cloak of Mr. Moore and walked home, where I found Captain Ferrer with my wife, and after speaking a matter of an hour with him he went home and we all to bed. Jack Cole, my old friend, found me out at the Wardrobe; and, among other things, he told me that certainly most of the chief ministers of London would fling up their livings; and that, soon or late, the issue thereof would be sad to the King and Court.
. Up and to my office early, and there all the morning alone till dinner, and after dinner to my office again, and about 3 o’clock with my wife by water to Westminster, where I stayed in the Hall while my wife went to see her father and mother, and she returning we by water home again, and by and by comes Mr. Cooper, so he and I to our mathematics, and so supper and to bed. My morning’s work at the office was to put the new books of my office into order, and writing on the backsides what books they be, and transcribing out of some old books some things into them.
. At the office all the morning and dined at home, and after dinner in all haste to make up my accounts with my Lord, which I did with some trouble, because I had some hopes to have made a profit to myself in this account and above what was due to me (which God forgive me in), but I could not, but carried them to my Lord, with whom they passed well. So to the Wardrobe, where alone with my Lord above an hour; and he do seem still to have his old confidence in me; and tells me to boot, that Mr. Coventry hath spoke of me to him to great advantage; wherein I am much pleased. By and by comes in Mr. Coventry to visit my Lord; and so my Lord and he and I walked together in the great chamber a good while; and I found him a most ingenuous man and good company. He being gone I also went home by water, Mr. Moore with me for discourse sake, and then parted from me, Cooper being there ready to attend me, so he and I to work till it was dark, and then eat a bit and by daylight to bed.
. Up by four o’clock, and at my multiplicacion-table hard, which is all the trouble I meet withal in my arithmetic. So made me ready and to the office, where all the morning busy, and Sir W. Penn came to my office to take his leave of me, and desiring a turn in the garden, did commit the care of his building1466 to me, and offered all his services to me in all matters of mine. I did, God forgive me! promise him all my service and love, though the rogue knows he deserves none from me, nor do I intend to show him any; but as he dissembles with me, so must I with him. Dined at home, and so to the office again, my wife with me, and while I was for an hour making a hole behind my seat in my closet to look into the office, she was talking to me about her going to Brampton, which I would willingly have her to do but for the cost of it, and to stay here will be very inconvenient because of the dirt that I must have when my house is pulled down. Then to my business till night, then Mr. Cooper and I to our business, and then came Mr. Mills, the minister, to see me, which he hath but rarely done to me, though every day almost to others of us; but he is a cunning fellow, and knows where the good victuals is, and the good drink, at Sir W. Batten’s. However, I used him civilly, though I love him as I do the rest of his coat. So to supper and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock, and before I went to the office I practised my arithmetic, and then, when my wife was up, did call her and Sarah, and did make up a difference between them, for she is so good a servant as I am loth to part with her. So to the office all the morning, where very much business, but it vexes me to see so much disorder at our table, that, every man minding a several business, we dispatch nothing. Dined at home with my wife, then to the office again, and being called by Sir W. Batten, walked to the Victualler’s office,1467 there to view all the several offices and houses to see that they were employed in order to give the Council an account thereof. So after having taken an oath or two of Mr. Lewes and Captain Brown and others I returned to the office, and there sat despatching several businesses alone till night, and so home and by daylight to bed.
. Up by four o’clock, and hard at my multiplicacion-table, which I am now almost master of, and so made me ready and to my office, where by and by comes Mr. Pett, and then a messenger from Mr. Coventry, who stays in his boat at the Tower for us. So we to him, and down to Deptford first, and there viewed some deals lately served in at a low price, which our officers, like knaves, would untruly value in their worth, but we found them good. Then to Woolwich, and viewed well all the houses and stores there, which lie in very great confusion for want of storehouses, and then to Mr. Ackworth’s and Sheldon’s to view their books, which we found not to answer the King’s service and security at all as to the stores. Then to the Ropeyard, and there viewed the hemp, wherein we found great corruption, and then saw a trial between Sir R. Ford’s yarn and our own, and found great odds. So by water back again. About five in the afternoon to Whitehall, and so to St. James’s; and at Mr. Coventry’s chamber, which is very neat and fine, we had a pretty neat dinner, and after dinner fell to discourse of business and regulation, and do think of many things that will put matters into better order, and upon the whole my heart rejoices to see Mr. Coventry so ingenious, and able, and studious to do good, and with much frankness and respect to Mr. Pett and myself particularly. About 9 o’clock we broke up after much discourse and many things agreed on in order to our business of regulation, and so by water (landing Mr. Pett at the Temple) I went home and to bed.
. Up by five o’clock, and put things in my house in order to be laid up, against my workmen come on Monday to take down the top of my house, which trouble I must go through now, but it troubles me much to think of it. So to my office, where till noon we sat, and then I to dinner and to the office all the afternoon with much business. At night with Cooper at arithmetic, and then came Mr. Creed about my Lord’s accounts to even them, and he gone I to supper and to bed.
. … I had my old pain all yesterday and this morning, and so kept my bed all this morning. So up and after dinner and some of my people to church, I set about taking down my books and papers and making my chamber fit against tomorrow to have the people come to work in pulling down the top of my house. In the evening I walked to the garden and sent for Mr. Turner (who yesterday did give me occasion of speaking to him about the difference between him and me), and I told him my whole mind, and how it was in my power to do him a discourtesy about his place of petty purveyance, and at last did make him see (I think) that it was his concernment to be friendly to me and what belongs to me. After speaking my mind to him and he to me, we walked down and took boat at the Tower and to Deptford, on purpose to sign and seal a couple of warrants, as justice of peace in Kent, against one Annis, who is to be tried next Tuesday, at Maidstone assizes, for stealing some lead out of Woolwich Yard. Going and coming I did discourse with Mr. Turner about the faults of our management of the business of our office, of which he is sensible, but I believe is a very knave. Come home I found a rabbit at the fire, and so supped well, and so to my journal and to bed.
. Up by 4 o’clock and to my arithmetic, and so to my office till 8, then to Thames Street along with old Mr. Green, among the tar-men, and did instruct myself in the nature and prices of tar, but could not get Stockholm for the use of the office under £10 15s. per last, which is a great price. So home, and at noon Dr. T. Pepys came to me, and he and I to the Exchequer, and so back to dinner, where by chance comes Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, and then Mr. Battersby, the minister, and then Mr. Dun, and it happened that I had a haunch of venison boiled, and so they were very welcome and merry; but my simple Dr. do talk so like a fool that I am weary of him. They being gone, to my office again, and there all the afternoon, and at night home and took a few turns with my wife in the garden and so to bed. My house being this day almost quite untiled in order to its rising higher. This night I began to put on my waistcoat also. I found the pageant in Cornhill taken down, which was pretty strange.
. Up by 4 o’clock, and after doing some business as to settling my papers at home, I went to my office, and there busy till sitting time. So at the office all the morning, where J. Southern, Mr. Coventry’s clerk, did offer me a warrant for an officer to sign which I desired, claiming it for my clerk’s duty, which however did trouble me a little to be put upon it, but I did it. We broke up late, and I to dinner at home, where my brother Tom and Mr. Cooke came and dined with me, but I could not be merry for my business, but to my office again after dinner, and they two and my wife abroad. In the evening comes Mr. Cooper, and I took him by water on purpose to tell me things belonging to ships, which was time well spent, and so home again, and my wife came home and tells me she has been very merry and well pleased with her walk with them. About bedtime it fell a-raining, and the house being all open at top, it vexed me; but there was no help for it.
. In the morning I found all my ceilings, spoiled with rain last night, so that I fear they must be all new whited when the work is done. Made me ready and to my office, and by and by came Mr. Moore to me, and so I went home and consulted about drawing up a fair state of all my Lord’s accounts, which being settled, he went away, and I fell to writing of it very neatly, and it was very handsome and concisely done. At noon to my Lord’s with it, but found him at dinner, and some great company with him, Mr. Edward Montagu and his brother, and Mr. Coventry, and after dinner he went out with them, and so I lost my labour; but dined with Mr. Moore and the people below, who after dinner fell to talk of Portugal rings, and Captain Ferrers offered five or six to sell, and I seeming to like a ring made of a coconut with a stone done in it, he did offer and would give it me. By and by we went to Mr. Creed’s lodging, and there got a dish or two of sweetmeats, and I seeing a very neat leaden standish to carry papers, pen, and ink in when one travels I also got that of him, and that done I went home by water and to finish some of my Lord’s business, and so early to bed. This day I was told that my Lady Castlemaine (being quite fallen out with her husband) did yesterday go away from him, with all her plate, jewels, and other best things; and is gone to Richmond to a brother of hers;1468 which, I am apt to think, was a design to get out of town, that the King might come at her the better. But strange it is how for her beauty I am willing to construe all this to the best and to pity her wherein it is to her hurt, though I know well enough she is a whore.
. To my office, and by and by to our sitting; where much business. Mr. Coventry took his leave, being to go with the Duke over for the Queen-Mother. I dined at home, and so to my Lord’s, where I presented him with a true state of all his accounts to last Monday, being the 14th of July, which did please him, and to my great joy I continue in his great esteem and opinion. I this day took a general acquittance from my Lord to the same day. So that now I have but very few persons to deal withall for money in the world. Home and found much business to be upon my hands, and was late at the office writing letters by candle light, which is rare at this time of the year, but I do it with much content and joy, and then I do please me to see that I begin to have people direct themselves to me in all businesses. Very late I was forced to send for Mr. Turner, Smith, Young, about things to be sent down early tomorrow on board the King’s pleasure boat, and so to bed with my head full of business, but well contented in mind as ever in my life.
. Up very early, and got atop of my house, seeing the design of my work, and like it very well, and it comes into my head to have my dining room wainscoated, which will be very pretty. By-and-by by water to Deptford, to put several things in order, being myself now only left in town, and so back again to the office, and there doing business all the morning and the afternoon also till night, and then comes Cooper for my mathematics, but, in good earnest, my head is so full of business that I cannot understand it as otherwise I should do. At night to bed, being much troubled at the rain coming into my house, the top being open.
. Up early and to some business, and my wife coming to me I stayed long with her discoursing about her going into the country, and as she is not very forward so am I at a great loss whether to have her go or no because of the charge, and yet in some considerations I would be glad she was there, because of the dirtiness of my house and the trouble of having of a family there. So to my office, and there all the morning, and then to dinner and my brother Tom dined with me only to see me. In the afternoon I went upon the river to look after some tar I am sending down and some coals, and so home again; it raining hard upon the water, I put ashore and sheltered myself, while the King came by in his barge, going down towards the Downs to meet the Queen: the Duke being gone yesterday. But methought it lessened my esteem of a king, that he should not be able to command the rain. Home, and Cooper coming (after I had dispatched several letters) to my mathematics, and so at night to bed to a chamber at Sir W. Penn’s, my own house being so foul that I cannot lie there any longer, and there the chamber lies so as that I come into it over my leads without going about, but yet I am not fully content with it, for there will be much trouble to have servants running over the leads to and fro.
. My wife and I lay talking long in bed, and at last she is come to be willing to stay two months in the country, for it is her unwillingness to stay till the house is quite done that makes me at a loss how to have her go or stay. But that which troubles me most is that it has rained all this morning so furiously that I fear my house is all over water, and with that expectation I rose and went into my house and find that it is as wet as the open street, and that there is not one dry-footing above nor below in my house. So I fitted myself for dirt, and removed all my books to the office and all day putting up and restoring things, it raining all day long as hard within doors as without. At last to dinner, we had a calf’s head and bacon at my chamber at Sir W. Penn’s, and there I and my wife concluded to have her go and her two maids and the boy, and so there shall be none but Will and I left at home, and so the house will be freer, for it is impossible to have anybody come into my house while it is in this condition, and with this resolution all the afternoon we were putting up things in the further cellar against next week for them to be gone, and my wife and I into the office and there measured a soiled flag that I had found there, and hope to get it to myself, for it has not been demanded since I came to the office. But my wife is not hasty to have it, but rather to stay a while longer and see the event whether it will be missed or no. At night to my office, and there put down this day’s passages in my journal, and read my oaths, as I am obliged every Lord’s day. And so to Sir W. Penn’s to my chamber again, being all in dirt and foul, and in fear of having catched cold today with dabbling in the water. But what has vexed me today was that by carrying the key to Sir W. Penn’s last night, it could not in the midst of all my hurry to carry away my books and things, be found, and at last they found it in the fire that we made last night. So to bed.
. Up early, and though I found myself out of order and cold, and the weather cold and likely to rain, yet upon my promise and desire to do what I intended, I did take boat and down to Greenwich, to Captain Cocke’s, who hath a most pleasant seat, and neat. Here I drank wine, and eat some fruit off the trees; and he showed a great rarity, which was two or three of a great number of silver dishes and plates, which he bought of an embassador that did lack money, in the edge or rim of which was placed silver and gold medalls, very ancient, and I believe wrought, by which, if they be, they are the greatest rarity that ever I saw in my life, and I will show Mr. Crumlum them. Thence to Woolwich to the Rope-yard; and there looked over several sorts of hemp, and did fall upon my great survey of seeing the working and experiments of the strength and the charge in the dressing of every sort; and I do think have brought it to so great a certainty, as I have done the King great service in it: and do purpose to get it ready against the Duke’s coming to town to present to him. I breakfasted at Mr. Falconer’s well, and much pleased with my inquiries. Thence to the dock, where we walked in Mr. Shelden’s garden, eating more fruit, and drinking, and eating figs, which were very good, and talking while the Royal James was bringing towards the dock, and then we went out and saw the manner and trouble of docking such a ship, which yet they could not do, but only brought her head into the Dock, and so shored her up till next tide. But, good God! what a deal of company was there from both yards to help to do it, when half the company would have done it as well. But I see it is impossible for the King to have things done as cheap as other men. Thence by water, and by and by landing at the riverside somewhere among the reeds, we walked to Greenwich, where to Cocke’s house again and walked in the garden, and then in to his lady, who I find is still pretty, but was now vexed and did speak very discontented and angry to the Captain for disappointing a gentleman that he had invited to dinner, which he took like a wise man and said little, but she was very angry, which put me clear out of countenance that I was sorry I went in. So after I had eat still some more fruit I took leave of her in the garden plucking apricots for preserving, and went away and so by water home, and there Mr. Moore coming and telling me that my Lady goes into the country tomorrow, I carried my wife by coach to take her leave of her father, I staying in Westminster Hall, she going away also this week, and thence to my Lady’s, where we stayed and supped with her, but found that my Lady was truly angry and discontented with us for our neglecting to see her as we used to do, but after a little she was pleased as she was used to be, at which we were glad. So after supper home to bed.
. Among my workmen early: then to the office, and there I had letters from the Downs from Mr. Coventry; who tells me of the foul weather they had last Sunday, that drove them back from near Boulogne, whither they were going for the Queen, back again to the Downs, with the loss of their cables, sails, and masts; but are all safe, only my Lord Sandwich, who went before with the yachts; they know not what is become of him, which do trouble me much; but I hope he got ashore before the storm begun; which God grant! All day at the office, only at home at dinner, where I was highly angry with my wife for her keys being out of the way, but they were found at last, and so friends again. All the afternoon answering letters and writing letters, and at night to Mr. Coventry an ample letter in answer to all his and the Duke’s business. Late at night at the office, where my business is great, being now all alone in town, but I shall go through it with pleasure. So home and to bed.
. This morning angry a little in the morning, and my house being so much out of order makes me a little pettish. I went to the office, and there dispatched business by myself, and so again in the afternoon; being a little vexed that my brother Tom, by his neglect, do fail to get a coach for my wife and maid this week, by which she will not be at Brampton Feast, to meet my Lady at my father’s. At night home, and late packing up things in order to their going to Brampton tomorrow, and so to bed, quite out of sorts in my mind by reason that the weather is so bad, and my house all full of wet, and the trouble of going from one house to another to Sir W. Penn’s upon every occasion. Besides much disturbed by reason of the talk up and down the town, that my Lord Sandwich is lost; but I trust in God the contrary.
. Up early this morning sending the things to the carrier’s, and my boy, who goes today, though his mistress do not till next Monday. All the morning at the office, Sir W. Batten being come to town last night. I hear, to my great content, that my Lord Sandwich is safe landed in France. Dined at our chamber, where W. Bowyer with us, and after much simple talk with him, I left him, and to my office, where all the afternoon busy till 9 at night, among other things improving my late experiment at Woolwich about hemp. So home and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, reading Mr. Holland’s discourse of the Navy,1469 lent me by Mr. Turner, and am much pleased with them, they hitting the very diseases of the Navy, which we are troubled with nowadays. I shall bestow writing of them over and much reading thereof. This morning Sir W. Batten came in to the office and desired to speak with me; he began by telling me that he observed a strangeness between him and me of late, and would know the reason of it, telling me he heard that I was offended with merchants coming to his house and making contracts there. I did tell him that as a friend I had spoke of it to Sir W. Penn and desired him to take a time to tell him of it, and not as a backbiter, with which he was satisfied, but I find that Sir W. Penn has played the knave with me, and not told it from me as a friend, but in a bad sense. He also told me that he heard that exceptions were taken at his carrying his wife down to Portsmouth, saying that the King should not pay for it, but I denied that I had spoke of it, nor did I. At last he desired the difference between our wives might not make a difference between us, which I was exceedingly glad to hear, and do see every day the fruit of looking after my business, which I pray God continue me in, for I do begin to be very happy. Dined at home, and so to the office all the afternoon again, and at night home and to bed.
. Sir W. Batten, Mr. Pett, and I at the office sitting all the morning. So dined at home, and then to my office again, causing the model hanging in my chamber to be taken down and hung up in my office, for fear of being spoilt by the workmen, and for my own convenience of studying it. This afternoon I had a letter from Mr. Creed, who hath escaped narrowly in the King’s yacht, and got safe to the Downs after the late storm; and that there the King do tell him, that he is sure that my Lord is landed at Callis safe, of which being glad, I sent news thereof to my Lord Crew, and by the post to my Lady into the country. This afternoon I went to Westminster; and there hear that the King and Queen intend to come to Whitehall from Hampton Court next week, for all winter. Thence to Mrs. Sarah, and there looked over my Lord’s lodgings, which are very pretty; and Whitehall Garden and the Bowling alley (where lords and ladies are now at bowls), in brave condition. Mrs. Sarah told me how the falling out between my Lady Castlemaine and her Lord was about christening of the child lately,1470 which he would have, and had done by a priest: and, some days after, she had it again christened by a minister; the King, and Lord of Oxford, and Duchess of Suffolk,1471 being witnesses: and christened with a proviso, that it had not already been christened. Since that she left her Lord, carrying away everything in the house; so much as every dish, and cloth, and servant but the porter. He is gone discontented into France, they say, to enter a monastery; and now she is coming back again to her house in Kingstreet. But I hear that the Queen did prick her out of the list presented her by the King;1472 desiring that she might have that favour done her, or that he would send her from whence she come: and that the King was angry and the Queen discontented a whole day and night upon it; but that the King hath promised to have nothing to do with her hereafter. But I cannot believe that the King can fling her off so, he loving her too well: and so I writ this night to my Lady to be my opinion; she calling her my lady, and the lady I admire. Here I find that my Lord hath lost the garden to his lodgings, and that it is turning into a tennis-court.1473 Hence by water to the Wardrobe to see how all do there, and so home to supper and to bed.
. At church alone in the pew in the morning. In the afternoon by water I carried my wife to Westminster, where she went to take leave of her father,1474 and I to walk in the Park, which is now every day more and more pleasant, by the new works upon it. Here meeting with Laud Crispe, I took him to the farther end, and sat under a tree in a corner, and there sung some songs, he singing well, but no skill, and so would sing false sometimes. Then took leave of him, and found my wife at my Lord’s lodging, and so took her home by water, and to supper in Sir W. Penn’s balcony, and Mrs. Keene with us, and then came my wife’s brother, and then broke up, and to bed.
. Up early, and by six o’clock, after my wife was ready, I walked with her to the George, at Holborn Conduit,1475 where the coach stood ready to carry her and her maid to Bugden,1476 but that not being ready, my brother Tom stayed with them to see them gone, and so I took a troubled though willing goodbye, because of the bad condition of my house to have a family in it. So I took leave of her and walked to the waterside, and there took boat for the Tower; hearing that the Queen-Mother is come this morning already as high as Woolwich: and that my Lord Sandwich was with her; at which my heart was glad, and I sent the waterman, though yet not very certain of it, to my wife to carry news thereof to my Lady. So to my office all the morning abstracting the Duke’s instructions in the margin thereof. So home all alone to dinner, and then to the office again, and in the evening Cooper comes, and he being gone, to my chamber a little troubled and melancholy, to my lute late, and so to bed, Will lying there at my feet, and the wench in my house in Will’s bed.
. Early up, and brought all my money, which is near £300, out of my house into this chamber; and so to the office, and there we sat all the morning, Sir George Carteret and Mr. Coventry being come from sea. This morning among other things I broached the business of our being abused about flags, which I know doth trouble Sir W. Batten, but I care not. At noon being invited I went with Sir George and Mr. Coventry to Sir W. Batten’s to dinner, and there merry, and very friendly to Sir Wm. and he to me, and complies much with me, but I know he envies me, and I do not value him. To the office again, and in the evening walked to Deptford (Cooper with me talking of mathematics), to send a fellow to prison for cutting of buoy ropes, and to see the difference between the flags sent in nowadays, and I find the old ones, which were much cheaper, to be wholly as good. So I took one of a sort with me, and Mr. Wayth accompanying of me a good way, talking of the faults of the Navy, I walked to Redriffe back, and so home by water, and after having done, late, at the office, I went to my chamber and to bed.
. Up early, and to my office, where Cooper came to me and begun his lecture upon the body of a ship, which my having of a modell in the office is of great use to me, and very pleasant and useful it is. Then by water to Whitehall, and there waited upon my Lord Sandwich; and joyed him, at his lodgings, of his safe coming home after all his danger, which he confesses to be very great. And his people do tell me how bravely my Lord did carry himself, while my Lord Crofts1477 did cry; and I perceive it is all the town talk how poorly he carried himself. But the best was of one Mr. Rawlins,1478 a courtier, that was with my Lord; and in the greatest danger cried, “God damn me, my Lord, I won’t give you threepence for your place now.” But all ends in the honour of the pleasure-boats; which, had they not been very good boats, they could never have endured the sea as they did. Thence with Captain Fletcher, of the Gage, in his ship’s boat with 8 oars (but every ordinary oars outrowed us) to Woolwich, expecting to find Sir W. Batten there upon his survey, but he is not come, and so we got a dish of steaks at the White Hart, while his clarkes and others were feasting of it in the best room of the house, and after dinner playing at shuffleboard,1479 and when at last they heard I was there, they went about their survey. But God help the King! what surveys, shall be taken after this manner! I after dinner about my business to the Rope-yard, and there stayed till night, repeating several trialls of the strength, wayte, waste, and other things of hemp, by which I have furnished myself enough to finish my intended business of stating the goodness of all sorts of hemp. At night home by boat with Sir W. Warren, who I landed by the way, and so being come home to bed.
. Up early and among my workmen, I ordering my rooms above, which will please me very well. So to my office, and there we sat all the morning, where I begin more and more to grow considerable there. At noon Mr. Coventry and I by his coach to the Exchange together; and in Lombard Street met Captain Browne of the Rosebush: at which he was cruel angry: and did threaten to go today to the Duke at Hampton Court, and get him turned out because he was not sailed. But at the Exchange we resolved of eating a bit together, which we did at the Ship behind the Exchange, and so took boat to Billingsgate, and went down on board the Rosebush at Woolwich, and found all things out of order, but after frightening the officers there, we left them to make more haste, and so on shore to the yard, and did the same to the officers of the yard, that the ship was not dispatched. Here we found Sir W. Batten going about his survey, but so poorly and unlike a survey of the Navy, that I am ashamed of it, and so is Mr. Coventry. We found fault with many things, and among others the measure of some timber now serving in which Mr. Day the assistant told us of, and so by water home again, all the way talking of the office business and other very pleasant discourse, and much proud I am of getting thus far into his books, which I think I am very much in. So home late, and it being the last day of the month, I did make up my accounts before I went to bed, and found myself worth about £650, for which the Lord God be praised, and so to bed. I drank but two glasses of wine this day, and yet it makes my head ache all night, and indisposed me all the next day, of which I am glad. I am now in town only with my man Will and Jane, and because my house is in building, I do lie at Sir W. Penn’s house, he being gone to Ireland. My wife, her maid and boy gone to Brampton. I am very well entered into the business and esteem of the office, and do ply it close, and find benefit by it.
August 1662
. Up, my head aching, and to my office, where Cooper read me another lecture upon my modell very pleasant. So to my business all the morning, which increases by people coming now to me to the office. At noon to the Exchange, where meeting Mr. Creed and Moore we three to a house hard by (which I was not pleased with) to dinner, and after dinner and some discourse ordinary by coach home, it raining hard, and so at the office all the afternoon till evening to my chamber, where, God forgive me, I was sorry to hear that Sir W. Penn’s maid Betty was gone away yesterday, for I was in hopes to have had a bout with her before she had gone, she being very pretty. I had also a mind to my own wench, but I dare not for fear she should prove honest and refuse and then tell my wife. I stayed up late, putting things in order for my going to Chatham tomorrow, and so to bed, being in pain … with the little riding in a coach today from the Exchange, which do trouble me.
. Up early, and got me ready in my riding clothes, and so to the office, and there wrote letters to my father and wife against night, and then to the business of my office, which being done, I took boat with Will, and down to Greenwich, where Captain Cocke not being at home I was vexed, and went to walk in the Park till he come thither to me: and Will’s forgetting to bring my boots in the boat did also vex me, for I was forced to send the boat back again for them. I to Captain Cocke’s along with him to dinner, where I find his lady still pretty, but not so good a humour as I thought she was. We had a plain, good dinner, and I see they do live very frugally. I eat among other fruit much mulberries, a thing I have not eat of these many years, since I used to be at Ashted,1480 at my cousin Pepys’s. After dinner we to boat, and had a pleasant passage down to Gravesend, but it was nine o’clock before we got thither, so that we were in great doubt what to do, whether to stay there or no; and the rather because I was afeard to ride, because of my pain … ; but at the Swan, finding Mr. Hemson and Lieutenant Carteret1481 of the Foresight come to meet me, I borrowed Mr. Hemson’s horse, and he took another, and so we rode to Rochester in the dark, and there at the Crown Mr. Gregory, Barrow,1482 and others stayed to meet me. So after a glass of wine, we to our barge, that was ready for me, to the Hill-house, where we soon went to bed, before we slept I telling upon discourse Captain Cocke the manner of my being cut of the stone, which pleased him much. So to sleep.
. Up early, and with Captain Cocke to the dockyard, a fine walk, and fine weather. Where we walked till Commissioner Pett come to us, and took us to his house, and showed us his garden and fine things, and did give us a fine breakfast of bread and butter, and sweetmeats and other things with great choice, and strong drinks, with which I could not avoid making my head ache, though I drank but little. Thither came Captain Allen of the Foresight, and the officers of the yard to see me. Thence by and by to church, by coach, with the Commissioner, and had a dull sermon. A full church, and some pretty women in it; among others, Beck Allen, who was a bride-maid to a new married couple that came to church today, and, which was pretty strange, sat in a pew hung with mourning for a mother of the bride’s, which methinks should have been taken down. After dinner going out of the church saluted Mrs. Pett, who came after us in the coach to church, and other officers’ wives. The Commissioner stayed at dinner with me, and we had a good dinner, better than I would have had, but I saw there was no helping of it. After dinner the Commissioner and I left the company and walked in the garden at the Hill-house, which is very pleasant, and there talked of our businesses and matters of the navy. So to church again, where quite weary, and so after sermon walked with him to the yard up and down and the fields, and saw the place designed for the wet dock. And so to his house, and had a syllabub, and saw his closet, which come short of what I expected, but there was fine modells of ships in it indeed, whose worth I could not judge of. At night walked home to the Hill-house, Mr. Barrow with me, talking of the faults of the yard, walking in the fields an hour or two, and so home to supper, and so Captain Cocke and I to bed. This day among other stories he told me how despicable a thing it is to be a hangman in Poland, although it be a place of credit. And that, in his time, there was some repairs to be made of the gallows there, which was very fine of stone; but nobody could be got to mend it till the Burgomaster, or Mayor of the town, with all the companies of those trades which were necessary to be used about those repairs, did go in their habits with flags, in solemn procession to the place, and there the Burgomaster did give the first blow with the hammer upon the wooden work; and the rest of the Masters of the Companies upon the works belonging to their trades; that so workmen might not be ashamed to be employed upon doing of the gallows’ works.
. Up by four o’clock in the morning and walked to the Dock, where Commissioner Pett and I took barge and went to the guardships and mustered them, finding them but badly manned; thence to the Sovereign,1483 which we found kept in good order and very clean, which pleased us well, but few of the officers on board. Thence to the Charles, and were troubled to see her kept so neglectedly by the boatswain Clements, who I always took for a very good officer; it is a very brave ship. Thence to Upnor Castle,1484 and there went up to the top, where there is a fine prospect, but of very small force; so to the yard, and there mustered the whole ordinary, where great disorder by multitude of servants and old decrepid men, which must be remedied. So to all the storehouses and viewed the stores of all sorts and the hemp, where we found Captain Cocke’s (which he came down to see along with me) very bad, and some others, and with much content (God forgive me) I did hear by the Clerk of the Ropeyard how it was by Sir W. Batten’s private letter that one parcel of Alderman Barker’s1485 was received. At two o’clock to dinner to the Hill-house, and after dinner dispatched many people’s business, and then to the yard again, and looked over Mr. Gregory’s and Barrow’s houses to see the matter of difference between them concerning an alteration that Barrow would make, which I shall report to the board, but both their houses very pretty, and deserve to be so, being well kept. Then to a trial of several sorts of hemp, but could not perform it here so well as at Woolwich, but we did do it pretty well. So took barge at the dock and to Rochester, and there Captain Cocke and I and our two men took coach about 8 at night and to Gravesend, where it was very dark before we got thither to the Swan; and there, meeting with Doncaster, an old waterman of mine above bridge, we eat a short supper, being very merry with the drolling, drunken coachman that brought us, and so took water. It being very dark, and the wind rising, and our waterman unacquainted with this part of the river, so that we presently cast upon the Essex shore, but got off again, and so, as well as we could, went on, but I in such fear that I could not sleep till we came to Erith, and there it begun to be calm, and the stars to shine, and so I began to take heart again, and the rest too, and so made shift to slumber a little. Above Woolwich we lost our way, and went back to Blackwall, and up and down, being guided by nothing but the barking of a dog, which we had observed in passing by Blackwall, and so,
. Got right again with much ado, after two or three circles and so on, and at Greenwich set in Captain Cocke, and I set forward, hailing to all the King’s ships at Deptford, but could not wake any man: so that we could have done what we would with their ships. At last waked one man; but it was a merchant ship, the Royal Catharine: so to the Towerdock and home, where the girl sat up for me. It was about three o’clock, and putting Mr. Boddam out of my bed, went to bed, and lay till nine o’clock, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I did give some accounts of my service. Dined alone at home, and was glad my house is begun tiling. And to the office again all the afternoon, till it was so dark that I could not see hardly what it is that I now set down when I write this word, and so went to my chamber and to bed, being sleepy.
. Up early, and, going to my office, met Sir G. Carteret in coming through the yard, and so walked a good while talking with him about Sir W. Batten, and find that he is going down the wind in everybody’s esteem, and in that of his honesty by this letter that he wrote to Captn. Allen concerning Alderman Barker’s hemp. Thence by water to Whitehall; and so to St. James’s; but there found Mr. Coventry gone to Hampton Court. So to my Lord’s; and he is also gone: this being a great day at the Council about some business at the Council before the King. Here I met with Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, who told me how Mr. Edward Montagu hath lately had a duell with Mr. Cholmely,1486 that is first gentleman-usher to the Queen, and was a messenger from the King to her in Portugal, and is a fine gentleman; but had received many affronts from Mr. Montagu, and some unkindness from my Lord, upon his score (for which I am sorry). He proved too hard for Montagu, and drove him so far backward that he fell into a ditch, and dropped his sword, but with honour would take no advantage over him; but did give him his life: and the world says Mr. Montagu did carry himself very poorly in the business, and hath lost his honour forever with all people in it, of which I am very glad, in hopes that it will humble him. I hear also that he hath sent to my Lord to borrow £400, giving his brother Harvey’s1487 security for it, and that my Lord will lend it him, for which I am sorry. Thence home, and at my office all the morning, and dined at home, and can hardly keep myself from having a mind to my wench, but I hope I shall not fall to such a shame to myself. All the afternoon also at my office, and did business. In the evening came Mr. Bland1488 the merchant to me, who has lived long in Spain, and is concerned in the business of Tangier, who did discourse with me largely of it, and after he was gone did send me three or four printed things that he hath wrote of trade in general and of Tangier particularly, but I do not find much in them. This afternoon Mr. Waith was with me, and did tell me much concerning the Chest, which I am resolved to look into; and I perceive he is sensible of Sir W. Batten’s carriage; and is pleased to see anything work against him. Who, poor man, is, I perceive, much troubled, and did yesterday morning walk in the garden with me, did tell me he did see there was a design of bringing another man in his room, and took notice of my sorting myself with others, and that we did business by ourselves without him. Part of which is true, but I denied, and truly, any design of doing him any such wrong as that. He told me he did not say it particularly of me, but he was confident there was somebody intended to be brought in, nay, that the train was laid before Sir W. Penn went, which I was glad to hear him say. Upon the whole I see he perceives himself tottering, and that he is suspected, and would be kind to me, but I do my business in the office and neglect him. At night writing in my study a mouse ran over my table, which I shut up fast under my shelf’s upon my table till tomorrow, and so home and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock and to my office, and by and by Mr. Cooper comes and to our modell, which pleases me more and more. At this till 8 o’clock, and so we sat in the office and stayed all the morning, my interest still growing, for which God be praised. This morning I got unexpectedly the Reserve for Mr. Cooper to be maister of, which was only by taking an opportune time to motion [it], which is one good effect of my being constant at the office, that nothing passes without me; and I have the choice of my own time to propose anything I would have. Dined at home, and to the office again at my business all the afternoon till night, and so to supper and to bed. It being become a pleasure to me nowadays to follow my business, and the greatest part may be imputed to my drinking no wine, and going to no plays.
. Up by four o’clock in the morning, and at five by water to Woolwich, there to see the manner of tarring, and all the morning looking to see the several proceedings in making of cordage, and other things relating to that sort of works, much to my satisfaction. At noon came Mr. Coventry on purpose from Hampton Court to see the same, and dined with Mr. Falconer, and after dinner to several experiments of Hemp, and particularly some Milan hemp that is brought over ready dressed. Thence we walked talking, very good discourse all the way to Greenwich, and I do find most excellent discourse from him. Among other things, his rule of suspecting every man that proposes anything to him to be a knave; or, at least, to have some ends of his own in it. Being led thereto by the story of Sir John Millicent,1489 that would have had a patent from King James for every man to have had leave to have given him a shilling; and that he might take it of every man that had a mind to give it, and being answered that that was a fair thing, but what needed he a patent for it, and what he would do to them that would not give him. He answered, he would not force them; but that they should come to the Council of State, to give a reason why they would not. Another rule is a proverb that he hath been taught, which is that a man that cannot sit still in his chamber (the reason of which I did not understand him), and he that cannot say no (that is, that is of so good a nature that he cannot deny anything, or cross another in doing anything), is not fit for business. The last of which is a very great fault of mine, which I must amend in. Thence by boat; I being hot, he put the skirt of his cloak about me; and it being rough, he told me the passage of a Frenchman through London Bridge, where, when he saw the great fall, he begun to cross himself and say his prayers in the greatest fear in the world, and soon as he was over, he swore “Morbleu! c’est le plus grand plaisir du monde,” being the most like a French humour in the world.1490 To Deptford, and there surprised the Yard, and called them to a muster, and discovered many abuses, which we shall be able to understand hereafter and amend. Thence walked to Redriffe, and so to London Bridge, where I parted with him, and walked home and did a little business, and to supper and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock or a little after, and to my office, whither by and by comes Cooper, to whom I told my getting for him the Reserve, for which he was very thankful, and fell to work upon our modell, and did a good morning’s work upon the rigging, and am very sorry that I must lose him so soon. By and by comes Mr. Coventry, and he and I alone sat at the office all the morning upon business. And so to dinner to Trinity House, and thence by his coach towards Whitehall; but there being a stop at the Savoy,1491 we ’light and took water, and my Lord Sandwich being out of town, we parted there, all the way having good discourse, and in short I find him the most ingenuous person I ever found in my life, and am happy in his acquaintance and my interest in him. Home by water, and did business at my office. Writing a letter to my brother John to dissuade him from being Moderator of his year, which I hear is proffered him, of which I am very glad. By and by comes Cooper, and he and I by candlelight at my modell, being willing to learn as much of him as is possible before he goes. So home and to bed.
. Being to dine at my brother’s, I walked to St. Dunstan’s, the church being now finished; and here I heard Dr. Bates,1492 who made a most eloquent sermon; and I am sorry I have hitherto had so low an opinion of the man, for I have not heard a neater sermon a great while, and more to my content. So to Tom’s, where Dr. Fairebrother, newly come from Cambridge, met me, and Dr. Thomas Pepys. I framed myself as pleasant as I could, but my mind was another way. Hither came my uncle Fenner, hearing that I was here, and spoke to me about Pegg Kite’s business of her portion, which her husband demands, but I will have nothing to do with it. I believe he has no mind to part with the money out of his hands, but let him do what he will with it. He told me the new service-book1493 (which is now lately come forth) was laid upon their deske at St. Sepulchre’s for Mr. Gouge to read; but he laid it aside, and would not meddle with it: and I perceive the Presbyters do all prepare to give over all against Bartholomew-tide.1494 Mr. Herring, being lately turned out at St. Bride’s, did read the psalm to the people while they sung at Dr. Bates’s, which methought is a strange turn. After dinner to St. Bride’s, and there heard one Carpenter, an old man, who, they say, hath been a Jesuit priest, and is come over to us; but he preaches very well. So home with Mrs. Turner, and there hear that Mr. Calamy hath taken his farewell this day of his people, and that others will do so the next Sunday. Mr. Turner,1495 the draper, I hear, is knighted, made Alderman, and pricked for Sheriffe, with Sir Thomas Bluddel,1496 for the next year, by the King, and so are called with great honour the King’s Sheriffes. Thence walked home, meeting Mr. Moore by the way, and he home with me and walked till it was dark in the garden, and so good night, and I to my closet in my office to perfect my Journal and to read my solemn vows, and so to bed.
. All the morning at the office. Dined at home all alone, and so to my office again, whither Dean Fuller came to see me, and having business about a ship to carry his goods to Dublin,1497 whither he is shortly to return, I went with him to the Hermitage, and the ship happening to be Captn. Holland’s I did give orders for them to be well looked after, and thence with him to the Custom House about getting a pass for them, and so to the Dolphin tavern, where I spent 6d. on him, but drank but one glass of wine, and so parted. He tells me that his niece, that sings so well, whom I have long longed to see, is married to one Mr. Boys, a wholesale man at the Three Crowns in Cheapside. I to the office again, whither Cooper came and read his last lecture to me upon my modell, and so bid me goodbye, he being to go tomorrow to Chatham to take charge of the ship I have got him. So to my business till 9 at night, and so to supper and to bed, my mind a little at ease because my house is now quite tiled.
. Up early at my office, and I find all people beginning to come to me. Among others Mr. Deane,1498 the Assistant of Woolwich, who I find will discover to me the whole abuse that his Majesty suffers in the measuring of timber, of which I shall be glad. He promises me also a modell of a ship, which will please me exceedingly, for I do want one of my own. By and by we sat, and among other things Sir W. Batten and I had a difference about his clerk’s making a warrant for a Maister, which I would not suffer, but got another signed, which he desires may be referred to a full board, and I am willing to it. But though I did get another signed of my own clerk’s, yet I will give it to his clerk, because I would not be judged unkind, and though I will stand upon my privilege. At noon home and to dinner alone, and so to the office again, where busy all the afternoon till 10 o’clock at night, and so to supper and to bed, my mind being a little disquieted about Sir W. Batten’s dispute today, though this afternoon I did speak with his man Norman at last, and told him the reason of my claim.
. Up early, and to my office, where people come to me about business, and by and by we met on purpose to enquire into the business of the flag-makers, where I am the person that do chiefly manage the business against them on the King’s part; and I do find it the greatest cheat that I have yet found; they having eightpence per yard allowed them by pretence of a contract, where no such thing appears; and it is threepence more than was formerly paid, and than I now offer the Board to have them done. We did not fully end it, but refer it to another time. At noon Commr. Pett and I by water to Greenwich, and on board the pleasure-boats to see what they wanted, they being ordered to sea, and very pretty things I still find them, and so on shore and at the Shipp had a bit of meat and dined, there waiting upon us a barber of Mr. Pett’s acquaintance that plays very well upon the violin. Thence to Lambeth; and there saw the little pleasure-boat in building by the King, my Lord Brunkard,1499 and the virtuosoes of the town, according to new lines, which Mr. Pett cries up mightily, but how it will prove we shall soon see. So by water home, and busy at my study late, drawing a letter to the yards of reprehension and direction for the board to sign, in which I took great pains. So home and to bed.
. Up early and to look on my works, and find my house to go on apace. So to my office to prepare business, and then we met and sat till noon, and then Commissioner Pett and I being invited, went by Sir John Winter’s coach sent for us, to the Mitre, in Fenchurch street, to a venison-pasty; where I found him a very worthy man; and good discourse. Most of which was concerning the Forest of Dean, and the timber there, and iron-workes with their great antiquity, and the vast heaps of cinders which they find, and are now of great value, being necessary for the making of iron at this day; and without which they cannot work: with the age of many trees there left at a great fall in Edward the Third’s time, by the name of forbid-trees, which at this day are called vorbid trees. Thence to my office about business till late, and so home and to bed.
. Up very early, and up about seeing how my work proceeds, and am pretty well pleased therewith; especially my wife’s closet will be very pretty. So to the office and there very busy, and many people coming to me. At noon to the ’Change, and there hear of some Quakers that are seized on, that would have blown up the prison in Southwark where they are put. So to the Swan, in Old Fish Street, where Mr. Brigden and his father-in-law, Blackbury, of whom we had bought timber in the office, but have not dealt well with us, did make me a fine dinner only to myself; and after dinner comes in a jugler, which showed us very pretty tricks. I seemed very pleasant, but am no friend to the man’s dealings with us in the office. After an hour or two sitting after dinner talking about office business, where I had not spent any time a great while, I went to Paul’s Church Yard to my bookseller’s; and there I hear that next Sunday will be the last of a great many Presbyterian ministers in town, who, I hear, will give up all. I pray God the issue may be good, for the discontent is great. Home and to my office till 9 at night doing business, and so to bed. My mind well pleased with a letter I found at home from Mr. Coventry, expressing his satisfaction in a letter I writ last night, and sent him this morning, to be corrected by him in order to its sending down to all the Yards as a charge to them.
. Up very early, this being the last Sunday that the Presbyterians are to preach, unless they read the new Common Prayer and renounce the Covenant,1500 and so I had a mind to hear Dr. Bates’s farewell sermon, and walked thither, calling first at my brother’s, where I found that he is come home after being a week abroad with Dr. Pepys, nobody knows where, nor I but by chance, that he was gone, which troubles me. So I called only at the door, but did not ask for him, but went to Madam Turner’s to know whether she went to church, and to tell her that I would dine with her; and so walked to St. Dunstan’s, where, it not being seven o’clock yet, the doors were not open; and so I went and walked an hour in the Temple-garden, reading my vows, which it is a great content to me to see how I am a changed man in all respects for the better, since I took them, which the God of Heaven continue to me, and make me thankful for. At eight o’clock I went, and crowded in at a back door among others, the church being half-full almost before any doors were open publicly; which is the first time that I have done so these many years since I used to go with my father and mother, and so got into the gallery, beside the pulpit, and heard very well. His text was, “Now the God of Peace—;” the last Hebrews, and the 20th verse: he making a very good sermon, and very little reflections in it to anything of the times. Besides the sermon, I was very well pleased with the sight of a fine lady that I have often seen walk in Graye’s Inn Walks, and it was my chance to meet her again at the door going out, and very pretty and sprightly she is, and I believe the same that my wife and I some years since did meet at Temple Bar gate and have sometimes spoke of. So to Madam Turner’s, and dined with her. She had heard Parson Herring take his leave; though he, by reading so much of the Common Prayer as he did, hath cast himself out of the good opinion of both sides. After dinner to St. Dunstan’s again; and the church quite crowded before I came, which was just at one o’clock; but I got into the gallery again, but stood in a crowd and did exceedingly sweat all the time. He pursued his text again very well; and only at the conclusion told us, after this manner: “I do believe that many of you do expect that I should say something to you in reference to the time, this being the last time that possibly I may appear here. You know it is not my manner to speak anything in the pulpit that is extraneous to my text and business; yet this I shall say, that it is not my opinion, fashion, or humour that keeps me from complying with what is required of us; but something which, after much prayer, discourse, and study yet remains unsatisfied, and commands me herein. Wherefore, if it is my unhappiness not to receive such an illumination as should direct me to do otherwise, I know no reason why men should not pardon me in this world, and am confident that God will pardon me for it in the next.” And so he concluded. Parson Herring read a psalm and chapters before sermon; and one was the chapter in the Acts, where the story of Ananias and Sapphira is. And after he had done, says he, “This is just the case of England at present. God he bids us to preach, and men bid us not to preach; and if we do, we are to be imprisoned and further punished. All that I can say to it is, that I beg your prayers, and the prayers of all good Christians, for us.” This was all the exposition he made of the chapter in these very words, and no more. I was much pleased with Dr. Bates’s manner of bringing in the Lord’s Prayer after his own; thus, “In whose comprehensive words we sum up all our imperfect desires; saying, ‘Our Father,’ ” etc. Church being done and it raining I took a hackney coach and so home, being all in a sweat and fearful of getting cold. To my study at my office, and thither came Mr. Moore to me and walked till it was quite dark. Then I wrote a letter to my Lord Privy Seale as from my Lord for Mr. ⸻ to be sworn directly by deputy to my Lord, he denying to swear him as deputy together with me. So that I am now clear of it, and the profit is now come to be so little that I am not displeased at my getting off so well. He being gone I to my study and read, and so to eat a bit of bread and cheese and so to bed. I hear most of the Presbyters took their leaves today, and that the City is much dissatisfied with it. I pray God keep peace among us, and make the Bishops careful of bringing in good men in their rooms, or else all will fly a-pieces; for bad ones will not [go] down with the City.
. Up very early, and up upon my house to see how work goes on, which do please me very well. So about seven o’clock took horse and rode to Bowe, and there stayed at the King’s Head, and eat a breakfast of eggs till Mr. Deane of Woolwich came to me, and he and I rid into Waltham Forest,1501 and there we saw many trees of the King’s a-hewing; and he showed me the whole mystery of off square,1502 wherein the King is abused in the timber that he buys, which I shall with much pleasure be able to correct. After we had been a good while in the wood, we rode to Illford, and there, while dinner was getting ready, he and I practised measuring of the tables and other things till I did understand measuring of timber and board very well. So to dinner and by and by, being sent for, comes Mr. Cooper, our officer in the Forest, and did give me an account of things there, and how the country is backward to come in with their carts. By and by comes one Mr. Marshall, of whom the King has many carriages for his timber, and they stayed and drank with me, and while I am here, Sir W. Batten passed by in his coach, homewards from Colchester, where he had been seeing his son-in-law, Lemon, that lies a-dying, but I would take no notice of him, but let him go. By and by I got a horseback again and rode to Barking, and there saw the place where they ship this timber for Woolwich; and so Deane and I home again, and parted at Bowe, and I home just before a great shower of rain, as God would have it. I find Deane a pretty able man, and able to do the King service; but, I think, more out of envy to the rest of the officers of the yard, of whom he complains much, than true love, more than others, to the service. He would fain seem a modest man, and yet will commend his own work and skill, and vie with other persons, especially the Petts, but I let him alone to hear all he will say. Whiled away the evening at my office trying to repeat the rules of measuring learnt this day, and so to bed with my mind very well pleased with this day’s work.
. Up betimes and to see how my work goes on. Then Mr. Creed came to me, and he and I walked an hour or two till 8 o’clock in the garden, speaking of our accounts one with another and then things public. Among other things he tells me that my Lord has put me into Commission with himself and many noblemen and others for Tangier, which, if it be, is not only great honour, but may be of profit too, and I am very glad of it. By and by to sit at the office; and Mr. Coventry did tell us of the duell between Mr. Jermyn,1503 nephew to my Lord St. Albans, and Colonel Giles Rawlins,1504 the latter of whom is killed, and the first mortally wounded, as it is thought. They fought against Captain Thomas Howard,1505 my Lord Carlisle’s brother, and another unknown;1506 who, they say, had armour on that they could not be hurt, so that one of their swords went up to the hilt against it. They had horses ready, and are fled. But what is most strange, Howard sent one challenge, but they could not meet, and then another,1507 and did meet yesterday at the old Pall Mall1508 at St. James’s, and would not to the last tell Jermyn what the quarrel was; nor do anybody know. The Court is much concerned in this fray, and I am glad of it; hoping that it will cause some good laws against it. After sitting, Sir G. Carteret and I walked a good while in the garden, who told me that Sir W. Batten had made his complaint to him that some of us had a mind to do him a bad turn, but I do not see that Sir George is concerned for him at all, but rather against him. He professes all love to me, and did tell me how he had spoke of me to my Lord Chancellor, and that if my Lord Sandwich would ask my Lord Chancellor, he should know what he had said of me to him to my advantage, of which I am very glad, and do not doubt that all things will grow better and better every day for me. Dined at home alone, then to my office, and there till late at night doing business, and so home, eat a bit, and to bed.
. Up early, and to my office, and thence to my Lord Sandwich, whom I found in bed, and he sent for me in. Among other talk, he do tell me that he hath put me into commission with a great many great persons in the business of Tangier, which is a very great honour to me, and may be of good concernment to me. By and by comes in Mr. Coventry to us, whom my Lord tells that he is also put into the commission, and that I am there, of which he said he was glad; and did tell my Lord that I was indeed the life of this office, and much more to my commendation beyond measure. And that, whereas before he did bear me respect for his sake, he do do it now much more for my own; which is a great blessing to me. Sir G. Carteret having told me what he did yesterday concerning his speaking to my Lord Chancellor about me. So that on all hands, by God’s blessing, I find myself a very rising man. By and by comes my Lord Peterborough in, with whom we talked a good while, and he is going tomorrow towards Tangier again. I perceive there is yet good hopes of peace with Guyland1509 which is of great concernment to Tangier. And many other things I heard which yet I understand not, and so cannot remember. My Lord and Lord Peterborough going out to the Solicitor General1510 about the drawing up of this Commission, I went to Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore, and there meeting Mr. Townsend, he would needs take me to Fleet Street, to one Mr. Barwell, squire sadler to the King, and there we and several other Wardrobe-men dined. We had a venison pasty, and other good plain and handsome dishes; the mistress of the house a pretty, well-carriaged woman, and a fine hand she hath; and her maid a pretty brown lass. But I do find my nature ready to run back to my old course of drinking wine and staying from my business, and yet, thank God, I was not fully contented with it, but did stay at little ease, and after dinner hastened home by water, and so to my office till late at night. In the evening Mr. Hayward came to me to advise with me about the business of the Chest, which I have now a mind to put in practice, though I know it will vex Sir W. Batten, which is one of the ends (God forgive me) that I have in it. So home, and eat a bit, and to bed.
. Up early, and to my office, and by and by we sat all the morning. At noon, though I was invited to my uncle Fenner’s to dinner to a haunch of venison I sent him yesterday, yet I did not go, but chose to go to Mr. Rawlinson’s, where my uncle Wight and my aunt, and some neighbour couples were at a very good venison pasty. Hither came, after we were set down, a most pretty young lady (only her hands were not white nor handsome), which pleased me well, and I found her to be sister to Mrs. Anne Wight that comes to my uncle Wight’s. We were good company, and had a very pretty dinner. And after dinner some talk, I with my aunt and this young lady about their being [at] Epsom, from whence they came today, and so home and to my office, and there doing business till past 9 at night, and so home and to bed. But though I drank no wine today, yet how easily was I of my own accord stirred up to desire my aunt and this pretty lady (for it was for her that I did it) to carry them to Greenwich and see the pleasure boats. But my aunt would not go, of which since I am much glad.
. About three o’clock this morning I waked with the noise of the rain, having never in my life heard a more violent shower; and then the cat was lockt in the chamber, and kept a great mewing, and leapt upon the bed, which made me I could not sleep a great while. Then to sleep, and about five o’clock rose, and up to my office, and about 8 o’clock went down to Deptford, and there with Mr. Davis did look over most of his stores; by the same token in the great storehouse, while Captain Badily was talking to us, one from a trap-door above let fall unawares a coil of cable, that it was 10,000 to one it had not broke Captain Badily’s neck, it came so near him, but did him no hurt. I went on with looking and informing myself of the stores with great delight, and having done there, I took boat home again and dined, and after dinner sent for some of my workmen and did scold at them so as I hope my work will be hastened. Then by water to Westminster Hall, and there I hear that old Mr. Hales1511 did lately die suddenly in an hour’s time. Here I met with Will Bowyer, and had a promise from him of a place to stand tomorrow at his house to see the show. Thence to my Lord’s, and thither sent for Mr. Creed, who came, and walked together talking about business, and then to his lodgings at Clerke’s, the confectioner’s, where he did give me a little banquet, and I had liked to have begged a parrot for my wife, but he hath put me in a way to get a better from Steventon,1512 at Portsmouth. But I did get of him a draught of Tangier to take a copy by, which pleases me very well. So home by water and to my office, where late, and so home to bed.
. Up early, and about my works in my house, to see what is done and design more. Then to my office, and by and by we sat till noon at the office. After sitting, Mr. Coventry and I did walk together a great while in the Garden, where he did tell me his mind about Sir G. Carteret’s having so much the command of the money, which must be removed. And indeed it is the bane of all our business. He observed to me also how Sir W. Batten begins to struggle and to look after his business, which he do indeed a little, but it will come to nothing. I also put him upon getting an order from the Duke for our inquiries into the Chest, which he will see done. So we parted, and Mr. Creed by appointment being come, he and I went out together, and at an ordinary in Lombard Street dined together, and so walked down to the Styllyard,1513 and so all along Thames-street, but could not get a boat: I offered eight shillings for a boat to attend me this afternoon, and they would not, it being the day of the Queen’s coming to town from Hampton Court. So we fairly walked it to Whitehall, and through my Lord’s lodgings we got into Whitehall Garden, and so to the Bowling-green, and up to the top of the new Banqueting House there, over the Thames, which was a most pleasant place as any I could have got; and all the show consisted chiefly in the number of boats and barges; and two pageants, one of a King, and another of a Queen, with her Maids of Honour sitting at her feet very prettily; and they tell me the Queen is Sir Richard Ford’s daughter. Anon come the King and Queen in a barge under a canopy with 10,000 barges and boats, I think, for we could see no water for them, nor discern the King nor Queen. And so they landed at Whitehall Bridge,1514 and the great guns on the other side went off: But that which pleased me best was, that my Lady Castlemaine stood over against us upon a piece of Whitehall, where I glutted myself with looking on her. But methought it was strange to see her Lord and her upon the same place walking up and down without taking notice one of another, only at first entry he put off his hat, and she made him a very civil salute, but afterwards took no notice one of another; but both of them now and then would take their child, which the nurse held in her armes, and dandle it. One thing more; there happened a scaffold below to fall, and we feared some hurt, but there was none, but she of all the great ladies only run down among the common rabble to see what hurt was done, and did take care of a child that received some little hurt, which methought was so noble. Anon there came one there booted and spurred that she talked long with. And by and by, she being in her hair, she put on his hat, which was but an ordinary one, to keep the wind off. But methinks it became her mightily, as everything else do. The show being over, I went away, not weary with looking on her, and to my Lord’s lodgings, where my brother Tom and Dr. Thomas Pepys were to speak with me. So I walked with them in the garden, and was very angry with them both for their going out of town without my knowledge; but they told me the business, which was to see a gentlewoman for a wife for Tom, of Mr. Cooke’s providing, worth £500, of good education, her name Hobell, and lives near Banbury, demands £40 per annum jointure.1515 Tom likes her, and, they say, had a very good reception, and that Cooke hath been very serviceable therein, and that she is committed to old Mr. Young, of the Wardrobe’s, tuition. After I had told them my mind about their folly in going so unadvisedly, I then begun to inquire after the business, and so did give no answer as to my opinion till I have looked farther into it by Mr. Young. By and by, as we were walking in my Lord’s walk, comes my Lord, and so we broke our discourse and went in with him, and after I had put them away I went in to my Lord, and he and I had half an hour’s private discourse about the discontents of the times, which we concluded would not come to anything of difference, though the Presbyters would be glad enough of it; but we do not think religion will so soon cause another war. Then to his own business. He asked my advice there, whether he should go on to purchase more land and to borrow money to pay for it, which he is willing to do, because such a bargain as that of Mr. Buggins’s, of Stukely, will not be every day to be had, and Brampton is now perfectly granted him by the King—I mean the reversion of it—after the Queen’s death; and, in the meantime, he buys it of Sir Peter Ball his present right. Then we fell to talk of Navy business, and he concludes, as I do, that he needs not put himself upon any more voyages abroad to spend money, unless a war comes; and that by keeping his family awhile in the country, he shall be able to gather money. He is glad of a friendship with Mr. Coventry, and I put him upon increasing it, which he will do, but he (as Mr. Coventry do) do much cry against the course of our payments and the Treasurer to have the whole power in his own hands of doing what he will, but I think will not meddle in himself. He told me also that in the Commission for Tangier Mr. Coventry had advised him that Mr. Povy, who intended to be Treasurer,1516 and it is intended him, may not be of the Commission itself, and my Lord I think will endeavour to get him to be contented to be left out of the Commission, and it is a very good rule indeed that the Treasurer in no office ought to be of the Commission. Here we broke off, and I bid him good night, and so with much ado, the streets being at nine o’clock at night crammed with people going home to the city, for all the borders of the river had been full of people, as the King had come, to a miracle got to the Palace Yard, and there took boat, and so to the Old Swan, and so walked home, and to bed very weary.
. Slept till 7 o’clock, which I have not done a very great while, but it was my weariness last night that caused it. So rose and to my office till church time, writing down my yesterday’s observations, and so to church, where I all alone, and found Will Griffin and Thomas Hewett got into the pew next to our backs, where our maids sit, but when I come, they went out; so forward some people are to outrun themselves. Here we had a lazy, dull sermon. So home to dinner, where my brother Tom came to me, and both before and after dinner he and I walked all alone in the garden, talking about his late journey and his mistress, and for what he tells me it is like to do well. He being gone, I to church again, where Mr. Mills, making a sermon upon confession, he did endeavour to pull down auricular confession, but did set it up by his bad arguments against it, and advising people to come to him to confess their sins when they had any weight upon their consciences, as much as is possible, which did vex me to hear. So home, and after an hour’s being in my office alone, looking over the plates and globes, I walked to my uncle Wight’s, the truth is, in hopes to have seen and been acquainted with the pretty lady that came along with them to dinner the other day to Mr. Rawlinson, but she is gone away. But here I stayed supper, and much company there was; among others, Dr. Burnett,1517 Mr. Cole the lawyer, Mr. Rawlinson, and Mr. Sutton, a brother of my aunt’s, that I never saw before. Among other things they tell me that there hath been a disturbance in a church in Friday Street;1518 a great many young people knotting together and crying out “Porridge”1519 often and seditiously in the church, and took the Common Prayer Book, they say, away; and, some say, did tear it; but it is a thing which appears to me very ominous. I pray God avert it. After supper home and to bed.
. Up early, and among my workmen when they came, and set them in good order at work on all hands, which, though it at first began angrily, yet I pleased myself afterwards in seeing it put into a good posture, and so I left them, and away by water to Woolwich (calling in my way in Hamcreek, where I have never been before, and there found two of the King’s ships lie there without any living creature aboard, which troubled me, everything being stole away that can be), where I stayed seeing a cable of 14 inches laid, in which there was good variety. Then to Mr. Falconer’s, and there eat a bit of roast meat off of the spit, and so away to the yard, and there among other things mustered the yard, and did things that I perceive people do begin to value me, and that I shall be able to be of command in all matters, which God be praised for. Then to Mr. Pett’s, and there eat some fruit and drank, and so to boat again, and to Deptford, calling there about the business of my house only, and so home, where by appointment I found Mr. Coventry, Sir W. Batten, and Mr. Waith met at Sir W. Batten’s, and thither I met, and so agreed upon a way of answering my Lord Treasurer’s letter. Here I found Mr. Coventry had got a letter from the Duke, sent us for looking into the business of the Chest, of which I am glad. After we had done here I went home, and up among my workmen, and found they had done a good day’s work, and so to my office till late ordering of several businesses, and so home and to bed, my mind, God be praised, full of business, but great quiet.
. Up betimes and among my works and workmen, and with great pleasure seeing them go on merrily, and a good many hands, which I perceive makes good riddance, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon dined alone with Sir W. Batten, which I have not done a great while, but his lady being out of the way I was the willinger to do it, and after dinner he and I by water to Deptford, and there found Sir G. Carteret and my Lady at dinner, and so we sat down and eat another dinner of venison with them, and so we went to the payhouse, and there stayed till 10 o’clock at night paying off the Martin and Kinsale, being small but troublesome ships to pay, and so in the dark by water home to the Custom House, and so got a lantern to light us home, there being Mr. Morrice the wine cooper with us, he having been at Deptford to view some of the King’s casks we have to sell. So to bed.
. Up and among my workmen, my work going on still very well. So to my office all the morning, and dined again with Sir W. Batten, his Lady being in the country. Among other stories, he told us of the Mayor of Bristoll’s reading a pass with the bottom upwards; and a barber that could not read, that flung a letter in the kennel when one came to desire him to read the superscription, saying, “Do you think I stand here to read letters?” Among my workmen again, pleasing myself all the afternoon there, and so to the office doing business till past 9 at night, and so home and to bed. This afternoon Mrs. Hunt came to see me, and I did give her a Muske Millon. Today my hogshead of sherry I have sold to Sir W. Batten, and am glad of my money instead of wine. After I had wrote this at my office (as I have of late altogether done since my wife has been in the country) I went into my house, and Will having been making up books at Deptford with other clerks all day, I did not think he was come home, but was in fear for him, it being very late, what was become of him. But when I came home I found him there at his ease in his study, which vexed me cruelly, that he should no more mind me, but to let me be all alone at the office waiting for him. Whereupon I struck him, and did stay up till 12 o’clock at night chiding him for it, and did in plain terms tell him that I would not be served so, and that I am resolved to look out some boy that I may have the bringing up of after my own mind, and which I do intend to do, for I do find that he has got a taste of liberty since he came to me that he will not leave. Having discharged my mind, I went to bed.
. I observe that Will, whom I used to call two or three times in a morning, would now wake of himself and rise without calling. Which though angry I was glad to see. So I rose and among my workmen, in my gown, without a doublet, an hour or two or more, till I was afraid of getting an ague, and so to the office, and there we sat all the morning, and at noon Mr. Coventry and I dined at Sir W. Batten’s, where I have now dined three days together, and so in the afternoon again we sat, which we intend to do two afternoons in a week besides our other sitting. In the evening we rose, and I to see how my work goes on, and so to my office, writing by the post and doing other matters, and so home and to bed late.
. Up betimes and among my workmen, where I did stay with them the greatest part of the morning, only a little at the office, and so to dinner alone at home, and so to my workmen again, finding my presence to carry on the work both to my mind and with more haste, and I thank God I am pleased with it. At night, the workmen being gone, I went to my office, and among other businesses did begin tonight with Mr. Lewes to look into the nature of a purser’s account, and the business of victualling, in which there is great variety; but I find I shall understand it, and be able to do service there also. So being weary and chill, being in some fear of an ague, I went home and to bed.
. Up betimes among my workmen, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon rose and had news that Sir W. Penn would be in town from Ireland, which I much wonder at, he giving so little notice of it, and it troubled me exceedingly what to do for a lodging, and more what to do with my goods, that are all in his house; but at last I resolved to let them lie there till Monday, and so got Griffin1520 to get a lodging as near as he could, which is without a door of our back door upon Tower Hill, a chamber where John Davis, one of our clerks, do lie in, but he do provide himself elsewhere, and I am to have his chamber. So at the office all the afternoon and the evening till past 10 at night expecting Sir W. Penn’s coming, but he not coming tonight I went thither and there lay very well, and like my lodging well enough. My man Will after he had got me to bed did go home and lay there, and my maid Jane lay among my goods at Sir W. Penn’s.
. Waked early, but being in a strange house, did not rise till 7 o’clock almost, and so rose and read over my oaths, and whiled away an hour thinking upon businesses till Will came to get me ready, and so got ready and to my office, and thence to church. After sermon home and dined alone. News is brought me that Sir W. Penn is come. But I would take no notice thereof till after dinner, and then sent him word that I would wait on him, but he is gone to bed. So to my office, and there made my monthly accounts, and find myself worth in money about £686 19s. 2½d., for which God be praised; and indeed greatly I hope to thank Almighty God, who do most manifestly bless me in my endeavours to do the duties of my office, I now saving money, and my expenses being little. My wife is still in the country; my house all in dirt; but my work in a good forwardness, and will be much to my mind at last. In the afternoon to church, and there heard a simple sermon of a stranger upon David’s words, “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the way of the ungodly,” etc., and the best of his sermon was the degrees of walking, standing, and sitting, showing how by steps and degrees sinners do grow in wickedness. After sermon to my brother Tom’s, who I found has taken physic today, and I talked with him about his country mistress, and read Cook’s letter, wherein I am well satisfied, and will appear in promoting it; so back and to Mr. Rawlinson’s, and there supped with him, and in came my uncle Wight and my aunt. Our discourse of the discontents that are abroad, among, and by reason of the Presbyters. Some were clapped up today, and strict watch is kept in the City by the train-bands, and letters of a plot are taken. God preserve us! for all these things bode very ill. So home, and after going to welcome home Sir W. Penn, who was unready, going to bed, I stayed with him a little while, and so to my lodging and to bed.
September 1662
. Up betimes at my lodging and to my office and among my workmen, and then with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn by coach to St. James’s, this being the first day of our meeting there by the Duke’s order; but when we come, we found him going out by coach with his Duchess, and he told us he was to go abroad with the Queen today (to Durdans,1521 it seems, to dine with my Lord Barkeley, where I have been very merry when I was a little boy); so we went and stayed a little at Mr. Coventry’s chamber, and I to my Lord Sandwich’s, who is gone to wait upon the King and Queen today. And so Mr. Paget being there, Will Howe and I and he played over some things of Locke’s that we used to play at sea, that pleased us three well, it being the first music I have heard a great while, so much has my business of late taken me off from all my former delights. By and by by water home, and there dined alone, and after dinner with my brother Tom’s two men I removed all my goods out of Sir W. Penn’s house into one room that I have with much ado got ready at my house, and so I am to be quit of any further obligation to him. So to my office, but missing my key, which I had in my hand just now, makes me very angry and out of order, it being a thing that I hate in others, and more in myself, to be careless of keys, I thinking another not fit to be trusted that leaves a key behind their hole. One thing more vexes me: my wife writes me from the country that her boy plays the rogue there, and she is weary of him, and complains also of her maid Sarah, of which I am also very sorry. Being thus out of temper, I could do little at my office, but went home and eat a bit, and so to my lodging to bed.
. Up betimes and got myself ready alone, and so to my office, my mind much troubled for my key that I lost yesterday, and so to my workmen and put them in order, and so to my office, and we met all the morning, and then dined at Sir W. Batten’s with Sir W. Penn, and so to my office again all the afternoon, and in the evening wrote a letter to Mr. Cooke, in the country, in behalf of my brother Tom, to his mistress, it being the first of my appearing in it, and if she be as Tom sets her out, it may be very well for him. So home and eat a bit, and so to my lodging to bed.
. Up betimes, but now the days begin to shorten, and so whereas I used to rise by four o’clock, it is not broad daylight now till after five o’clock, so that it is after five before I do rise. To my office, and about 8 o’clock I went over to Redriffe, and walked to Deptford, where I found Mr. Coventry and Sir W. Penn beginning the pay, it being my desire to be there today because it is the first pay that Mr. Coventry has been at, and I would be thought to be as much with Mr. Coventry as I can. Here we stayed till noon, and by that time paid off the Breda,1522 and then to dinner at the tavern, where I have obtained that our commons is not so large as they used to be, which I am glad to see. After dinner by water to the office, and there we met and sold the Weymouth, Success, and Fellowship hulkes,1523 where pleasant to see how backward men are at first to bid; and yet when the candle is going out, how they bawl and dispute afterwards who bid the most first. And here I observed one man cunninger than the rest that was sure to bid the last man, and to carry it; and inquiring the reason, he told me that just as the flame goes out the smoke descends, which is a thing I never observed before, and by that he do know the instant when to bid last, which is very pretty. In our discourse in the boat Mr. Coventry told us how the Fanatics and the Presbyters, that did intend to rise about this time, did choose this day as the most auspicious to them in their endeavours against monarchy: it being fatal twice to the King, and the day of Oliver’s death.1524 But, blessed be God! all is likely to be quiet, I hope. After the sale I walked to my brother’s, in my way meeting with Dr. Fairbrother, of whom I enquired what news in Church matters. He tells me, what I heard confirmed since, that it was fully resolved by the King’s new Council that an indulgence should be granted the Presbyters; but upon the Bishop of London’s speech1525 (who is now one of the most powerful men in England with the King), their minds were wholly turned. And it is said that my Lord Albemarle did oppose him most; but that I do believe is only in appearance. He told me also that most of the Presbyters now begin to wish they had complied, now they see that no Indulgence will be granted them, which they hoped for; and that the Bishop of London hath taken good care that places are supplied with very good and able men, which is the only thing that will keep all quiet. I took him in the tavern at Puddle dock, but neither he nor I drank any of the wine we called for, but left it, and so after discourse parted, and Mr. Townsend not being at home I went to my brother’s, and there heard how his love matter proceeded, which do not displease me, and so by water to Whitehall to my Lord’s lodgings, where he being to go to Hinchingbroke tomorrow morning, I stayed and fiddled with Will. Howe some new tunes very pleasant, and then my Lord came in and had much kind talk with him, and then to bed with Mr. Moore there alone. So having taken my leave of my Lord before I went to bed, I resolved to rise early and be gone without more speaking to him—
. Which I did, and by water betimes to the Tower and so home, where I shifted myself, being to dine abroad, and so being also trimmed, which is a thing I have very seldom done of late, I gat to my office and then met and sit all the morning, and at noon we all to the Trinity House, where we treated, very dearly, I believe, the officers of the Ordnance; where was Sir W. Compton and the rest and the Lieutenant of the Tower. We had much and good music, which was my best entertainment. Sir Wm. Compton I heard talk with great pleasure of the difference between the fleet now and in Queen Elisabeth’s days; where, in 88, she had but 36 sail great and small, in the world; and ten rounds of powder was their allowance at that time against the Spaniard.1526 After Sir W. Compton and Mr. Coventry, and some of the best of the rest were gone, I grew weary of staying with Sir Williams both, and the more for that my Lady Batten and her crew, at least half a score, come into the room, and I believe we shall pay size for it; but ’tis very pleasant to see her in her hair under her hood, and how by little and little she would fain be a gallant; but, Lord! the company she keeps about her are like herself, that she may be known by them what she is. Being quite weary I stole from them and to my office, where I did business till 9 at night, and so to my lodgings to bed.
. Up by break of day at 5 o’clock, and down by water to Woolwich: in my way saw the yacht lately built by our virtuosoes (my Lord Brunkard1527 and others, with the help of Commissioner Pett also) set out from Greenwich with the little Dutch bezan,1528 to try for mastery; and before they got to Woolwich the Dutch beat them half-a-mile (and I hear this afternoon, that, in coming home, it got above three miles); which all our people are glad of. Here I stayed and mustered the yard and looked into the storehouses; and so walked all alone to Greenwich, and thence by water to Deptford, and there examined some stores, and did some of my own business in hastening my work there, and so walked to Redriffe, being by this time pretty weary and all in a sweat; took boat there for the Tower, which made me a little fearful, it being a cold, windy morning. So to my lodgings and there rubbed myself clean, and so to Mr. Bland’s, the merchant, by invitation, I alone of all our company of this office; where I found all the officers of the Customs, very grave fine gentlemen, and I am very glad to know them;1529 viz.—Sir Job Harvy, Sir John Wolstenholme, Sir John Jacob, Sir Nicholas Crisp, Sir John Harrison, and Sir John Shaw: very good company. And among other pretty discourse, some was of Sir Jerom Bowes, Embassador from Queen Elizabeth to the Emperor of Russia;1530 who, because some of the noblemen there would go up the stairs to the Emperor before him, he would not go up till the Emperor had ordered those two men to be dragged downstairs, with their heads knocking upon every stair till they were killed. And when he was come up, they demanded his sword of him before he entered the room. He told them, if they would have his sword, they should have his boots too. And so caused his boots to be pulled off, and his nightgown and nightcap and slippers to be sent for; and made the Emperor stay till he could go in his nightdress, since he might not go as a soldier. And lastly, when the Emperor in contempt, to show his command of his subjects, did command one to leap from the window down and broke his neck in the sight of our Embassador, he replied that his mistress did set more by, and did make better use of the necks of her subjects but said that, to show what her subjects would do for her, he would, and did, fling down his gauntlet before the Emperor; and challenged all the nobility there to take it up, in defence of the Emperor against his Queen: for which, at this very day, the name of Sir Jerom Bowes is famous and honoured there. After dinner I came home and found Sir John Minnes come this day, and I went to him to Sir W. Batten’s, where it pleased me to see how jealous Sir Williams both are of my going down to Woolwich, etc., and doing my duty as I nowadays do, and of my dining with the Commission of the Customs. So to my office, and there till 9 at night, and so to my lodgings to bed. I this day heard that Mr. Martin Noell1531 is knighted by the King, which I much wonder at; but yet he is certainly a very useful man.
. Lay long, that is, till 6 and past before I rose, in order to sweat a little away the cold which I was afraid I might have got yesterday, but I bless God I am well. So up and to my office, and then we met and sat till noon, very full of business. Then Sir John Minnes, both Sir Williams and I to the Trinity House, where we had at dinner a couple of venison pasties, of which I eat but little, being almost cloyed, having been at five pasties in three days, namely, two at our own feast, and one yesterday, and two today. So home and at the office all the afternoon, busy till nine at night, and so to my lodging and to bed. This afternoon I had my new key and the lock of my office door altered, having lost my key the other day, which vexed me.
. Up betimes and round about by the streets to my office, and walked in the garden and in my office till my man Will rose, and then sent to tell Sir J. Minnes that I would go with him to Whitehall, which anon we did, in his coach, and to the Chapell, where I heard a good sermon of the Dean of Ely’s,1532 upon returning to the old ways, and a most excellent anthem, with symphonies between, sung by Captain Cooke. Then home with Mr. Fox and his lady; and there dined with them, where much company come to them. Most of our discourse was what ministers are flung out that will not conform: and the care of the Bishop of London that we are here supplied with very good men. Thence to my Lord’s, where nobody at home but a woman that let me in, and Sarah above, whither I went up to her and played and talked with her … After I had talked an hour or two with her I went and gave Mr. Hunt a short visit, he being at home alone, and thence walked homewards, and meeting Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, he took me into Somersett House; and there carried me into the Queen-Mother’s presence-chamber, where she was with our own Queen sitting on her left hand (whom I did never see before); and though she be not very charming, yet she hath a good, modest, and innocent look, which is pleasing. Here I also saw Madam Castlemaine, and, which pleased me most, Mr. Crofts, the King’s bastard, a most pretty spark of about 15 years old, who, I perceive, do hang much upon my Lady Castlemaine, and is always with her; and, I hear, the Queens both of them are mighty kind to him.1533 By and by in comes the King, and anon the Duke and his Duchess; so that, they being all together, was such a sight as I never could almost have happened to see with so much ease and leisure. They stayed till it was dark, and then went away; the King and his Queen, and my Lady Castlemaine and young Crofts, in one coach and the rest in other, coaches. Here were great store of great ladies, but very few handsome. The King and Queen were very merry; and he would have made the Queen-Mother believe that his Queen was with child, and said that she said so. And the young Queen answered, “You lie;” which was the first English word that I ever heard her say which made the King good sport; and he would have taught her to say in English, “Confess and be hanged.” The company being gone I walked home with great content as I can be in for seeing the greatest rarity, and yet a little troubled that I should see them before my wife’s coming home, I having made a promise that I would not, nor did I do it industriously and by design, but by chance only. To my office, to fit myself for waiting on the Duke tomorrow morning with the rest of our company, and so to my lodgings and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office preparing an account to give the Duke this morning of what we have of late done at the office. About 7 o’clock I went forth thinking to go along with Sir John Minnes and the rest, and I found them gone, which did vex me, so I went directly to the old Swan and took boat before them to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings at Whitehall, and there staying till he was dressed talking with him, he and I to St. James’s, where Sir Williams both and Sir John were come, and so up with Mr. Coventry to the Duke; who, after he was out of his bed, did send for us in; and, when he was quite ready, took us into his closet, and there told us that he do intend to renew the old custom for the Admirals to have their principal officers to meet them once a-week, to give them an account what they have done that week; which I am glad of: and so the rest did tell his Royal Highness that I could do it best for the time past. And so I produced my short notes, and did give him an account of all that we have of late done; and proposed to him several things for his commands, which he did give us, and so dismissed us. The rest to Deptford, I to the Exchequer to meet Mr. Townsend, where I hear he is gone to the Sun Tavern, and there found him with some friends at breakfast, which I eat with him, and so we crossed the water together, and in walking I told him my brother Tom’s intentions for a wife, which he would do me all favour in to Mr. Young, whose kinswoman he do look after. We took boat again at the Falcon, and there parted, and I to the old Swan, and so to the ’Change, and there meeting Sir W. Warren did step to a tavern, and there sat and talked about price of masts and other things, and so broke up and to my office to see what business, and so we took water again, and at the Tower I over to Redriffe, and there left him in the boat and walked to Deptford, and there up and down the yard speaking with people, and so Sir W. Penn coming out of the payhouse did single me out to tell me Sir J. Minnes’ dislike of my blinding his lights over his stairs (which indeed is very bad) and blocking up the house of office on the leads. Which did trouble me. So I went into the payhouse and took an occasion of speaking with him alone, and did give him good satisfaction therein, so as that I am well pleased and do hope now to have my closet on the leads without any more trouble, for he do not object against my having a door upon the leads, but that all my family should not make it a thoroughfare, which I am contented with. So to the pay, and in the evening home in the barge, and so to my office, and after doing some business there to my lodgings, and so to bed.
. At my office betimes, and by and by we sat, and at noon Mr. Coventry, Sir J. Minnes, Mr. Pett, and myself by water to Deptford, where we met Sir G. C., Sir W. B., and Sir W. P. At the pay of a ship, and we dined together on a haunch of good venison boiled, and after dinner returned again to the office, and there met several tradesmen by our appointment to know of them their lowest rates that they will take for their several provisions that they sell to us, for I do resolve to know that, and to buy no dearer, that so when we know the lowest rate, it shall be the Treasurer’s fault, and not ours, that we pay dearer. This afternoon Sir John Minnes, Mr. Coventry, and I went into Sir John’s lodgings, where he showed us how I have blinded all his lights, and stopped up his garden door, and other things he takes notice of that he resolves to abridge me of, which do vex me so much that for all this evening and all night in my bed, so great a fool I am, and little master of my passion, that I could not sleep for the thoughts of my losing the privilege of the leads, and other things which in themselves are small and not worth half the trouble. The more fool am I, and must labour against it for shame, especially I that used to preach up Epictetus’s rule of τὰ ἐφ’ ἡμῖν καὶ τὰ οὐκ ἑφ’ ἡμῖν.1534 Late at my office, troubled in mind, and then to bed, but could hardly sleep at night.
. Up and to my house, and there contrived a way how Sir John Minnes shall come into the leads, and yet I save part of the closet I hoped for, which, if it will not please him, I am a madman to be troubled at it. To my office, and then at my house among my lazy workmen all day. In the afternoon to the Wardrobe to speak with Mr. Townsend, who tells me that he has spoke with Mr. Young about my brother Tom’s business, and finds that he has made enquiry of him, and do hear him so well spoken of that he doubts not that the business will take with ordinary endeavours. So to my brother’s, and there finding both door and hatch open, I went in and knocked 3 or 4 times, and nobody came to me, which troubled me mightily; at last came Margaret,1535 who complained of Peter, who by and by came in, and I did rattle him soundly for it. I did afterwards take occasion to talk seriously alone with Margaret, who I find a very discreet, good woman, and tells me, upon my demand, that her master is a very good husband,1536 and minds his business well, but his fault is that he has not command over his two men, but they do what they list, and care not for his commands, and especially on Sundays they go whither they please, and not to church, which vexes me mightily, and I am resolved to school [him] soundly for it, it being so much unlike my father, that I cannot endure it in myself or him. So walked home and in my way at the Exchange found my uncle Wight, and he and I to an alehouse to drink a cup of beer, and so away, and I home and at the office till 9 o’clock and past, and so to my lodgings. I forgot that last night Mr. Cooke came to me to make his peace for inviting my brother lately out of town without my leave, but he do give me such a character of the lady that he has found out for him that I do much rejoice at, and did this night write a letter to her, which he enclosed in one of his, and by the report that I hear of her I confess I am much pleased with the match.
. Up, but not so soon as I have of late practised, my little trouble of mind and the shortness of the days making me to lie a little longer than I used to do, but I must make it up by sitting up longer of nights. To my office, whither my brother Tom, whom I chide sufficiently for yesterday’s work. So we sat at the office all the morning, some of us at Deptford paying the ordinary there; at noon Sir W. Penn took me to his lodgings to dinner, and after dinner I to my office again, and now and then to see how my work goes on, and so to my office late, and so to my lodgings, and after staying up till past 12 at night, at my music upon my lute, to bed. This night Tom came to show me a civil letter sent him from his mistress. I am pleased well enough with the business.
. Up betimes and to my office, and up to my workmen, which goes on slowly and troubles me much. Besides, my mind is troubled till I see how Sir John Minnes will carry himself to me about my lodgings, for all my fear is that he will get my best chamber from me, for as for the leads I care not a farthing for them. At my office all the morning, Mr. Lewes teaching me to understand the method of making up Purser’s accounts, which is very needful for me and very hard. Dined at home all in dirt, and my mind weary of being thus out of order, but I hope in God it will away, but for the present I am very melancholy, as I have been a great while. All the afternoon till 9 at night at my office, and then home and eat an egg or two, and so to my lodgings and to bed. This day, by letters from my father, I hear that Captain Ferrers, who is with my Lord in the country, was at Brampton (with Mr. Creed) to see him; and that a day or two ago, being provoked to strike one of my Lord’s footmen, the footman drew his sword, and hath almost cut the fingers of one of his hands off; which I am sorry for: but this is the vanity of being apt to command and strike.
. Up betimes and to my office, and we sat all the morning, and then at noon dined alone at home, and so among my work folks studying how to get my way sure to me to go upon the leads, which I fear at last I must be contented to go without, but, however, my mind is troubled still about it. We met again in the afternoon to set accounts even between the King and the masters of ships hired to carry provisions to Lisbon, and in the evening Mr. Moore came to me and did lie with me at my lodgings. It is great pleasure to me his company and discourse, and did talk also about my law business, which I must now fall upon minding again, the term coming on apace. So to bed.
. Up very early, and Mr. Moore taking leave of me the barber came and trimmed me (I having him now to come to me again after I have used a pumice-stone a good while, not but what I like this where I cannot conveniently have a barber, but here I cannot keep my hair dry without one), and so by water to Whitehall, by the way hearing that the Bishop of London had given a very strict order against boats going on Sundays, and as I come back again, we were examined by the masters of the company in another boat; but I told them who I was. But the door not being open to Westminster stairs there, called in at the Leg and drank a cup of ale and a toast, which I have not done many a month before, but it served me for my two glasses of wine today. Thence to St. James’s to Mr. Coventry, and there stayed talking privately with him an hour in his chamber of the business of our office, and found him to admiration good and industrious, and I think my most true friend in all things that are fair. He tells me freely his mind of every man and in every thing. Thence to Whitehall Chapel, where sermon almost done, and I heard Captain Cooke’s new music. This the first day of having viols and other instruments to play a symphony between every verse of the anthem; but the music more full than it was the last Sunday, and very fine it is.1537 But yet I could discern Captain Cooke to overdo his part at singing, which I never did before. Thence up into the Queen’s presence, and there saw the Queen again as I did last Sunday, and some fine ladies with her; but, my troth, not many. Thence to Sir G. Carteret’s, and find him to have sprained his foot and is lame, but yet hath been at chapel, and my Lady much troubled for one of her daughters that is sick. I dined with them, and a very pretty lady, their kinswoman, with them. My joy is, that I do think I have good hold on Sir George and Mr. Coventry. Sir George told me of a chest of drawers that were given Sir W. B. by Hughes the rope-maker, whom he has since put out of his employment, and now the fellow do cry out upon Sir W. for his cabinet. So home again by water and to church, and from church Sir Williams both and Sir John Minnes into the garden, and anon Sir W. Penn and I did discourse about my lodgings and Sir J. Minnes, and I did open all my mind to him, and he told me what he had heard, and I do see that I shall hardly keep my best lodging chamber, which troubles me, but I did send for Goodenough the plasterer, who tells me that it did ever belong to my lodgings, but lent by Mr. Payles to Mr. Smith, and so I will strive hard for it before I lose it. So to supper with them at Sir W. Batten’s, and do counterfeit myself well pleased, but my heart is troubled and offended at the whole company. So to my office to prepare notes to read to the Duke tomorrow morning, and so to my lodgings and to bed, my mind a little eased because I am resolved to know the worst concerning my lodgings tomorrow. Among other things Sir W. Penn did tell me of one of my servants looking into Sir J. Minnes’ window when my Lady Batten lay there, which do much trouble them, and me also, and I fear will wholly occasion my loosing the leads. One thing more he told me of my Jane’s cutting off a carpenter’s long mustacho, and how the fellow cried, and his wife would not come near him a great while, believing that he had been among some of his wenches. At which I was merry, though I perceive they discourse of it as a crime of hers, which I understand not.
. Up betimes to meet with the plasterer and bricklayer that did first divide our lodgings, and they do both tell me that my chamber now in dispute did ever belong to my lodgings, which do put me into good quiet of mind. So by water with Sir Wm. Penn to Whitehall; and, with much ado, was fain to walk over the piles through the bridge, while Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes were aground against the bridge, and could not in a great while get through. At Whitehall we hear that the Duke of York is gone a-hunting today; and so we returned: they going to the Duke of Albemarle’s, where I left them (after I had observed a very good picture or two there), and so home, and there did resolve to give up my endeavours for access to the leads, and to shut up my doors lest the being open might give them occasion of longing for my chamber, which I am in most fear about. So to Deptford, and took my Lady Batten and her daughter and Mrs. Turner along with me, they being going through the garden thither, they to Mr. Unthwayte’s and I to the Pay, and then about 3 o’clock went to dinner (Sir W. Penn and I), and after dinner to the Pay again, and at night by barge home all together, and so to my lodgings and to bed, my mind full of trouble about my house.
. Up and to my workmen, and then to the office, and there we sat till noon; then to the Exchange, and in my way met with the housekeeper of this office, and he did give me so good an account of my chamber in my house about which I am so much troubled that I am well at ease in my mind. At my office all the afternoon alone. In the evening Sir J. M. and I walked together a good while in the garden, very pleasant, and takes no notice that he do design any further trouble to me about my house. At night eat a bit of bread and cheese, and so to my lodgings and to bed, my mind ill at ease for these particulars: my house in dirt, and like to lose my best chamber. My wife writes me from the country that she is not pleased there with my father nor mother, nor any of her servants, and that my boy is turned a very rogue. I have £30 to pay to the cavaliers: then a doubt about my being forced to leave all my business here, when I am called to the court at Brampton; and lastly, my law businesses, which vex me to my heart what I shall be able to do next term, which is near at hand.
. At my office all the morning, and at noon to the Exchange, where meeting Mr. Moore and Mr. Stucky, of the Wardrobe, we to an ordinary to dinner, and after dinner Mr. Moore and I about 3 o’clock to Paul’s school, to wait upon Mr. Crumlum (Mr. Moore having a hopeful lad, a kinsman of his, there at school), who we take very luckily, and went up to his chamber with him, where there was also an old fellow student of Mr. Crumlum’s, one Mr. Newell, come to see him, of whom he made so much, and of me, that the truth is he with kindness did drink more than I believe he used to do, and did begin to be a little impertinent, the more when after all he would in the evening go forth with us and give us a bottle of wine abroad, and at the tavern met with an acquaintance of his that did occasion impertinent discourse, that though I honour the man, and he do declare abundance of learning and worth, yet I confess my opinion is much lessened of him, and therefore let it be a caution to myself not to love drink, since it has such an effect upon others of greater worth in my own esteem. I could not avoid drinking of 5 glasses this afternoon with him, and after I had parted with him Mr. Moore and I to my house, and after we had eaten something to my lodgings, where the master of the house, a very ordinary fellow, was ready to entertain me and took me into his dining room where his wife was, a pretty and notable lady, too fine surely for him, and too much wit too. Here I was forced to stay with them a good while and did drink again, there being friends of theirs with them. At last being weary of his idle company, I bid good night and so to my chamber and Mr. [Moore] and I to bed, neither of us well pleased with our afternoon’s work, merely from our being witnesses of Mr. Crumlum’s weakness. This day my boy is come from Brampton, and my wife I think the next week.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon Sir G. Carteret, Mr. Coventry, and I by invitation to dinner to Sheriff Maynell’s,1538 the great money-man; he, Alderman Backwell, and much noble and brave company, with the privilege of their rare discourse, which is great content to me above all other things in the world. And after a great dinner and much discourse, we arose and took leave, and home to the business of my office, where I thank God I take delight, and in the evening to my lodging and to bed. Among other discourse, speaking concerning the great charity used in Catholic countries, Mr. Ashburnham1539 did tell us, that this last year, there being great want of corn in Paris, and so a collection made for the poor, there was two pearls brought in, nobody knew from whom (till the Queen, seeing them, knew whose they were, but did not discover it), which were sold for 200,000 crowns.
. Up betimes and to my office, and at 9 o’clock, none of the rest going, I went alone to Deptford, and there went on where they left last night to pay Woolwich yard, and so at noon dined well, being chief at the table, and do not see but everybody begins to give me as much respect and honour as any of the rest. After dinner to Pay again, and so till 9 at night, my great trouble being that I was forced to begin an ill practice of bringing down the wages of servants, for which people did curse me, which I do not love. At night, after I had eaten a cold pullet, I walked by brave moonshine, with three or four armed men to guard me, to Redriffe, it being a joy to my heart to think of the condition that I am now in, that people should of themselves provide this for me, unspoke to. I hear this walk is dangerous to walk alone by night, and much robbery committed here. So from thence by water home, and so to my lodgings to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where I found my brother Tom, who tells me that his mistress’s mother has wrote a letter to Mr. Lull of her full satisfaction about Tom, of which I was glad, and do think the business will take. All this morning we sat at the office, Sir J. Minnes and I. And so dined at home, and among my workmen all the afternoon, and in the evening Tom brought Mr. Lull to me, a friend of his mistress, a serious man, with whom I spoke, and he gives me a good account of her and of their satisfaction in Tom, all which pleases me well. We walked a good while in the garden together, and did give him a glass of wine at my office, and so parted. So to write letters by the post and news of this to my father concerning Tom, and so home to supper and to my lodgings and to bed. Tonight my barber sent me his man to trim me, who did live in King Street in Westminster lately, and tells me that three or four that I knew in that street, tradesmen, are lately fallen mad, and some of them dead, and the others continue mad. They live all within a door or two one of another.
. Got up betimes and walked to St. James’s, and there to Mr. Coventry, and sat an hour with him, talking of business of the office with great pleasure, and I do perceive he do speak his whole mind to me. Thence to the Park, where by appointment I met my brother Tom and Mr. Cooke, and there spoke about Tom’s business, and to good satisfaction. The Queen coming by in her coach, going to her chapel at St. James’s1540 (the first time it hath been ready for her), I crowded after her, and I got up to the room where her closet is; and there stood and saw the fine altar, ornaments, and the fryers in their habits, and the priests come in with their fine copes and many other very fine things. I heard their music too; which may be good, but it did not appear so to me, neither as to their manner of singing, nor was it good concord to my ears, whatever the matter was. The Queen very devout: but what pleased me best was to see my dear Lady Castlemaine, who, though a Protestant, did wait upon the Queen to chapel. By and by, after mass was done, a fryer with his cowl did rise up and preach a sermon in Portuguese; which I not understanding, did go away, and to the King’s chapel, but that was done; and so up to the Queen’s presence-chamber, where she and the King was expected to dine: but she staying at St. James’s, they were forced to remove the things to the King’s presence [chamber]; and there he dined alone, and I with Mr. Fox very finely; but I see I must not make too much of that liberty for my honour sake only, not but that I am very well received. After dinner to Tom’s, and so home, and after walking a good while in the garden I went to my uncle Wight’s, where I found my aunt in mourning and making sad stories for the loss of her dear sister Nicholls, of which I should have been very weary but that pretty Mrs. Margaret Wight came in and I was much pleased with her company, and so all supper did vex my aunt talking in commendation of the mass which I had been at today, but excused it afterwards that it was only to make mirth. And so after supper broke up and home, and after putting my notes in order against tomorrow I went to bed.
. Up betimes among my workmen, hastening to get things ready against my wife’s coming, and so with Sir J. M., Sir W. B., and Sir W. P., by coach to St. James’s, and there with the Duke. I did give him an account of all things past of late; but I stood in great pain, having a great fit of the colic, having catched cold yesterday by putting off my stockings to wipe my toes, but at last it lessened, and then I was pretty well again, but in pain all day more or less. Thence I parted from them and walked to Greatorex’s, and there with him did overlook many pretty things, new inventions, and have bespoke a weather glass of him. Thence to my Lord Crew’s, and dined with the servants, he having dined; and so, after dinner, up to him, and sat an hour talking with him of public, and my Lord’s private businesses, with much content. So to my brother Tom’s, where Mr. Cooke expected me, and did go with me to see Mr. Young and Mr. Lull in Blackfryers, kindred of Tom’s mistress, where I was very well used, and do find things to go in the business to my good content. Thence to Mr. Townsend, and did there talk with Mr. Young himself also, and then home and to my study, and so to my lodgings and to bed.
. Up betimes and with my workmen, taking some pleasure to see my work come towards an end, though I am vexed every day enough with their delay. We met and sat all the morning, dined at home alone, and with my workmen all the afternoon, and in the evening by water and land to Deptford to give order for things about my house, and came back again by coach with Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Batten (who has been at a Pay today), and to my office and did some business, and so to supper and to my lodgings, and so to bed. In our coming home Sir G. Carteret told me how in most cabaretts in France they have writ upon the walls in fair letters to be read, “Dieu te regarde,” as a good lesson to be in every man’s mind, and have also, as in Holland, their poor’s box; in both which places at the making all contracts and bargains they give so much, which they call God’s penny.1541
. Up betimes and among my workmen, and among them all the morning till noon, and then to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined alone with him, and among other things he do advise me by all means to keep my Lord Sandwich from proceeding too far in the business of Tangier. First, for that he is confident the King will not be able to find money for the building the Mole; and next, for that it is to be done as we propose it by the reducing of the garrison; and then either my Lord must oppose the Duke of York, who will have the Irish regiment under the command of Fitzgerald1542 continued, or else my Lord Peterborough, who is concerned to have the English continued, and he, it seems, is gone back again merely upon my Lord Sandwich’s encouragement. Thence to Mr. Wotton, the shoemaker’s, and there bought a pair of boots, cost me 30s., and he told me how Bird1543 hath lately broke his leg, while he was fencing in Aglaura,1544 upon the stage, and that the new theatre of all will be ready against term. So to my brother’s, and there discoursed with him and Mr. Cooke about their journey to Tom’s mistress again, and I did speak with Mr. Croxton about measuring of silk flags. So by water home and to my workmen, and so at night till late at my office, inditing a letter from Tom to his mistress upon his sending her a watch for a token, and so home and to supper, and to my lodgings and to bed. It is my content that by several hands today I hear that I have the name of good-natured man among the poor people that come to the office.
. Up betimes and to my workmen, and then to the office, where we sat all the morning. So home to dinner alone and then to my workmen till night, and so to my office till bedtime, and so after supper to my lodgings and to bed. This evening I sat awhile at Sir W. Batten’s with Sir J. Minnes, etc., where he told us among many other things how in Portugal they scorn to make a seat for a house of office, but they do … all in pots and so empty them in the river. I did also hear how the woman, formerly nurse to Mrs. Lemon (Sir W. Batten’s daughter), her child was torn to pieces by two dogs at Walthamstow this week, and is dead, which is very strange.
. Up betimes and among my workmen. By and by to Sir W. Batten, who with Sir J. M. are going to Chatham this morning, and I was in great pain till they were gone that I might see whether Sir John do speak anything of my chamber that I am afraid of losing or no. But he did not, and so my mind is a little at more ease. So all day long till night among my workmen, and in the afternoon did cause the partition between the entry and the boy’s room to be pulled down to lay it all into one, which I hope will please me and make my coming in more pleasant. Late at my office at night writing a letter of excuse to Sir G. Carteret that I cannot wait upon him tomorrow morning to Chatham as I promised, which I am loth to do because of my workmen and my wife’s coming to town tomorrow. So to my lodgings and to bed.
. Up betimes and among my workmen, and with great pleasure see the posts in the entry taken down beyond expectation, so that now the boy’s room being laid into the entry do make my coming in very handsome, which was the only fault remaining almost in my house. We sat all the morning, and in the afternoon I got many jobbs done to my mind, and my wife’s chamber put into a good readiness against her coming, which she did at night, for Will did, by my leave to go, meet her upon the road, and at night did bring me word she was come to my brother’s, by my order. So I made myself ready and put things at home in order, and so went thither to her. Being come, I found her and her maid and dog very well, and herself grown a little fatter than she was. I was very well pleased to see her, and after supper to bed, and had her company with great content and much mutual love, only I do perceive that there has been falling out between my mother and she, and a little between my father and she; but I hope all is well again, and I perceive she likes Brampton House and seat better than ever I did myself, and tells me how my Lord hath drawn a plot of some alterations to be made there, and hath brought it up, which I saw and like well. I perceive my Lord and Lady have been very kind to her, and Captn. Ferrers so kind that I perceive I have some jealousy of him, but I know what is the Captain’s manner of carriage, and therefore it is nothing to me. She tells me of a Court like to be in a little time, which troubles me, for I would not willingly go out of town.
. Waked early, and fell talking one with another with great pleasure of my house at Brampton and that here, and other matters. She tells me what a rogue my boy is, and strange things he has been found guilty of, not fit to name, which vexes [me], but most of all the unquiet life that my mother makes my father and herself lead through her want of reason. At last I rose, and with Tom to the French Church at the Savoy,1545 where I never was before—a pretty place it is—and there they have the Common Prayer Book read in French, and, which I never saw before, the minister do preach with his hat off, I suppose in further conformity with our Church. So to Tom’s to dinner with my wife, and there came Mr. Cooke, and Joyce Norton do also dine there, and after dinner Cooke and I did talk about his journey and Tom’s within a day or two about his mistress. And I did tell him my mind and give him my opinion in it. So I walked home and found my house made a little clean, and pleases me better and better, and so to church in the afternoon, and after sermon to my study, and there did some things against tomorrow that I go to the Duke’s, and so walked to Tom’s again, and there supped and to bed with good content of mind.
. This day my oaths for drinking of wine and going to plays are out, and so I do resolve to take a liberty today, and then to fall to them again. Up and by coach to Whitehall, in my way taking up Mr. Moore, and walked with him, talking a good while about business, in St. James’s Park, and there left him, and to Mr. Coventry’s, and so with him and Sir W. Penn up to the Duke, where the King came also and stayed till the Duke was ready. It being Collarday, we had no time to talk with him about any business. They went out together. So we parted, and in the park Mr. Cooke by appointment met me, to whom I did give my thoughts concerning Tom’s match and their journey tomorrow, and did carry him by water to Tom’s, and there taking up my wife, maid, dog, and him, did carry them home, where my wife is much pleased with my house, and so am I fully. I sent for some dinner and there dined, Mrs. Margaret Penn being by, to whom I had spoke to go along with us to a play this afternoon, and then to the King’s Theatre, where we saw Midsummer’s Night’s Dream,1546 which I had never seen before, nor shall ever again, for it is the most insipid ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life. I saw, I confess, some good dancing and some handsome women, which was all my pleasure. Thence set my wife down at Madam Turner’s, and so by coach home, and having delivered Pegg Penn to her father safe, went home, where I find Mr. Deane, of Woolwich, hath sent me the modell he had promised me; but it so far exceeds my expectations, that I am sorry almost he should make such a present to no greater a person; but I am exceeding glad of it, and shall study to do him a courtesy for it. So to my office and wrote a letter to Tom’s mistress’s mother to send by Cooke tomorrow. Then came Mr. Moore thinking to have looked over the business of my Brampton papers against the Court, but my mind was so full of other matters (as it is my nature when I have been a good while from a business, that I have almost forgot it, I am loth to come to it again) that I could not set upon it, and so he and I past the evening away in discourse, and to my lodgings and to bed.
. We rose, and he about his business, and I to my house to look over my workmen; but good God! how I do find myself by yesterday’s liberty hard to be brought to follow business again, but however, I must do it, considering the great sweet and pleasure and content of mind that I have had since I did leave drink and plays, and other pleasures, and followed my business. So to my office, where we sat till noon, and then I to dinner with Sir W. Penn, and while we were at it coming my wife to the office, and so I sent for her up, and after dinner we took coach and to the Duke’s playhouse, where we saw The Duchess of Malfy1547 well performed, but Betterton and Ianthe to admiration. That being done, home again, by coach, and my wife’s chamber got ready for her to lie in tonight, but my business did call me to my office, so that staying late I did not lie with her at home, but at my lodgings. Strange to see how easily my mind do revert to its former practice of loving plays and wine, having given myself a liberty to them but these two days; but this night I have again bound myself to Christmas next, in which I desire God to bless me and preserve me, for under God I find it to be the best course that ever I could take to bring myself to mind my business. I have also made up this evening my monthly ballance, and find that, notwithstanding the loss of £30 to be paid to the loyal and necessitous cavaliers by act of Parliament,1548 yet I am worth about £680, for which the Lord God be praised. My condition at present is this:—I have long been building, and my house to my great content is now almost done. But yet not so but that I shall have dirt, which troubles me too, for my wife has been in the country at Brampton these two months, and is now come home a week or two before the house is ready for her. My mind is somewhat troubled about my best chamber, which I question whether I shall be able to keep or no. I am also troubled for the journey which I must needs take suddenly to the Court at Brampton, but most of all for that I am not provided to understand my business, having not minded it a great while, and at the best shall be able but to make a bad matter of it, but God, I hope, will guide all to the best, and I am resolved tomorrow to fall hard to it. I pray God help me therein, for my father and mother and all our well-doings do depend upon my care therein. My Lord Sandwich has lately been in the country, and very civil to my wife, and hath himself spent some pains in drawing a plot of some alterations in our house there, which I shall follow as I get money. As for the office, my late industry hath been such, as I am become as high in reputation as any man there, and good hold I have of Mr. Coventry and Sir G. Carteret, which I am resolved, and it is necessary for me, to maintain by all fair means. Things are all quiet, but the King poor, and no hopes almost of his being otherwise, by which things will go to rack, especially in the Navy. The late outing of the Presbyterian clergy by their not renouncing the Covenant as the Act of Parliament commands, is the greatest piece of state now in discourse. But for ought I see they are gone out very peaceably, and the people not so much concerned therein as was expected. My brother Tom is gone out of town this day, to make a second journey to his mistress at Banbury, of which I have good expectations, and pray God to bless him therein. My mind, I hope, is settled to follow my business again, for I find that two days’ neglect of business do give more discontent in mind than ten times the pleasure thereof can repair again, be it what it will.
October 1662
. Up with my mind pretty well at rest about my accounts and other business, and so to my house and there put my work to business, and then down to Deptford to do the same there, and so back and with my workmen all the afternoon, and my wife putting a chamber in order for us to lie in. At night to look over some Brampton papers against the Court which I expect every day to hear of, and that done home and with my wife to bed, the first time I have lain there these two months and more, which I am now glad to do again, and do so like the chamber as it is now ordered that all my fear is my not keeping it. But I hope the best, for it would vex me to the heart to lose it.
. Up and to the office, where we sat till noon, and then to dinner, and Mr. Moore came and dined with me, and after dinner to look over my Brampton papers, which was a most necessary work, though it is not so much to my content as I could wish. I fear that it must be as it can, and not as I would. He being gone I to my workmen again, and at night by coach towards Whitehall took up Mr. Moore and set him at my Lord’s, and myself, hearing that there was a play at the Cockpit (and my Lord Sandwich, who came to town last night, at it), I do go thither, and by very great fortune did follow four or five gentlemen who were carried to a little private door in a wall, and so crept through a narrow place and come into one of the boxes next the King’s, but so as I could not see the King or Queen, but many of the fine ladies, who yet are really not so handsome generally as I used to take them to be, but that they are finely dressed. Here we saw The Cardinall,1549 a tragedy I had never seen before, nor is there any great matter in it. The company that came in with me into the box, were all Frenchmen that could speak no English, but Lord! what sport they made to ask a pretty lady that they got among them that understood both French and English to make her tell them what the actors said. Thence to my Lord’s, and saw him, and stayed with him half an hour in his chamber talking about some of mine and his own business, and so up to bed with Mr. Moore in the chamber over my Lord’s.
. Rose, and without taking leave or speaking to my Lord went out early and walked home, calling at my brother’s and Paul’s Churchyard, but bought nothing because of my oath, though I had a great mind to it. At my office, and with my workmen till noon, and then dined with my wife upon herrings, the first I have eat this year, and so to my workmen again. By and by comes a gentleman to speak with my wife, and I found him to be a gentleman that had used her very civilly in her coming up out of the country, on which score I showed him great respect, and found him a very ingenious gentleman, and sat and talked with him a great while. He gone, to my workmen again, and in the evening comes Captain Ferrers, and sat and talked a great while, and told me the story of his receiving his cut in the hand by falling out with one of my Lord’s footmen.1550 He told me also of the impertinence and mischief that Ned Pickering has made in the country between my Lord and all his servants almost by his finding of faults, which I am vexed to hear, it being a great disgrace to my Lord to have the fellow seen to be so great still with him. He brought me a letter from my father, that appoints the day for the Court at Brampton to be the 13th of this month; but I perceive he has kept the letter in his pocket these three days, so that if the day had been sooner, I might have been spilt. So that it is a great folly to send letters of business by any friend that require haste. He being gone I to my office all the evening, doing business there till bedtime, it being now my manner since my wife is come to spend too much of my daytime with her and the workmen and do my office business at night, which must not be after the work of the house is done. This night late I had notice that Dekins,1551 the merchant, is dead this afternoon suddenly, for grief that his daughter, my Morena,1552 who has long been ill, is given over by the Doctors. For both which I am very sorry. So home and to bed.
. To my office all the morning, after I was up (my wife beginning to make me lie long a mornings), where we sat till noon, and then dined at home, and after a little with my workmen to my office till 9 at night, among other things examining the particulars of the miscarriage of the Satisfaction,1553 sunk the other day on the Dutch coast through the negligence of the pilot.
. Lay long in bed talking with my wife, and among other things fell out about my maid Sarah, whom my wife would fain put away, when I think her as good a servant as ever came into a house, but it seems my wife would have one that would dress a head well, but we were friends at last. I to church; and this day the parson has got one to read with a surplice on. I suppose himself will take it up hereafter, for a cunning fellow he is as any of his coat. Dined with my wife, and then to talk again above, chiefly about her learning to dance against her going next year into the country, which I am willing she shall do. Then to church to a tedious sermon, and thence walked to Tom’s to see how things are in his absence in the country, and so home and in my wife’s chamber till bedtime talking, and then to my office to put things in order to wait on the Duke tomorrow morning, and so home and to bed.
. Sir W. Penn and I early to St. James’s by water, where Mr. Coventry, finding the Duke in bed, and not very well, we did not stay to speak with him, but to Whitehall, and there took boat and down to Woolwich we went. In our way Mr. Coventry telling us how of late upon enquiry into the miscarriages of the Duke’s family, Mr. Biggs, his steward, is found very faulty, and is turned out of his employment. Then we fell to reading of a book which I saw the other day at my Lord Sandwich’s, intended for the late King, finely bound up, a treatise concerning the benefit the Hollanders make of our fishing, but whereas I expected great matters from it, I find it a very impertinent [book], and though some things good, yet so full of tautologies, that we were weary of it. At Woolwich we mustered the yard, and then to the Hart to dinner, and then to the Rope-yard, where I did vex Sir W. Penn I know to appear so well acquainted, I thought better than he, in the business of hemp; thence to Deptford, and there looked over several businesses, and wakened the officers there; so walked to Redriffe, and thence, landing Sir W. Penn at the Tower, I to Whitehall with Mr. Coventry, and so to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, but my Lord was not within, being at a ball this night with the King at my Lady Castlemaine’s at next door. But here to my trouble I hear that Mr. Moore is gone very sick to the Wardrobe this afternoon, which troubles me much both for his own sake and for mine, because of my law business that he does for me and also for my Lord’s matters. So hence by water, late as it was, to the Wardrobe, and there found him in a high fever, in bed, and much cast down by his being ill. So thought it not convenient to stay, but left him and walked home, and there weary went to supper, and then the barber came to me, and after he had done, to my office to set down my journal of this day, and so home and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, dined at home with my wife. After dinner with her by coach to see Mr. Moore, who continues ill. I took his books of accounts, and did discourse with him about my Lord’s and my own businesses, and there being Mr. Battersby by, did take notice of my having paid him the £100 borrowed of him, which they both did confess and promise to return me my bond. Thence by water with Will. Howe to Westminster, and there staying a little while in the Hall (my wife’s father and mother being abroad, and so she returning presently) thence by coach to my Lord’s, and there I left money for Captain Ferrers to buy me two bands. So towards the New Exchange, and there while my wife was buying things I walked up and down with Dr. Williams, talking about my law businesses, and thence took him to my brother’s, and there gave him a glass of wine, and so parted, and then by coach with my wife home, and Sir J. M. and Sir W. B. being come from Chatham Pay I did go see them for complaisance, and so home and to bed.
. Up and by water to my Lord Sandwich’s, and was with him a good while in his chamber, and among other things to my extraordinary joy, he did tell me how much I was beholding to the Duke of York, who did yesterday of his own accord tell him that he did thank him for one person brought into the Navy, naming myself, and much more to my commendation, which is the greatest comfort and encouragement that ever I had in my life, and do owe it all to Mr. Coventry’s goodness and ingenuity. I was glad above measure of this. Thence to Mr. Moore, who, I hope, is better than he was, and so home and dined at home, and all the afternoon busy at my office, and at night by coach to my Lord’s again, thinking to speak with him, but he is at Whitehall with the King, before whom the puppet plays I saw this summer in Covent-garden are acted this night. Hither this night my scallop,1554 bought and got made by Captain Ferrers’ lady, is sent, and I brought it home, a very neat one. It cost me about £3, and £3 more I have given him to buy me another. I do find myself much bound to go handsome, which I shall do in linen, and so the other things may be all the plainer. Here I stayed playing some new tunes to parts with Wm. Howe, and, my Lord not coming home, I came home late on foot, my boy carrying a link, and so eat a bit and to bed, my head full of ordering of businesses against my journey tomorrow, that there may be nothing done to my wrong in my absence. This day Sir W. Penn did speak to me from Sir J. Minnes to desire my best chamber of me, and my great joy is that I perceive he do not stand upon his right, which I was much afraid of, and so I hope I shall do well enough with him for it, for I will not part with it by fair means, though I contrive to let him have another room for it.
. Up early about my business to get me ready for my journey. But first to the office; where we sat all the morning till noon, and then broke up; and I bid them adieu for a week, having the Duke’s leave got me by Mr. Coventry. To whom I did give thanks for my news yesterday of the Duke’s words to my Lord Sandwich concerning me, which he took well; and do tell me so freely his love and value of me, that my mind is now in as great a state of quiet as to my interest in the office, as I could ever wish to be. I should this day have dined at Sir W. Penn’s at a venison pasty with the rest of our fellows, but I could not get time, but sent for a bit home, and so between one and two o’clock got on horseback at our back gate, with my man Will with me, both well-mounted on two grey horses. We rode and got to Ware before night; and so resolved to ride on to Puckeridge, which we did, though the way was bad, and the evening dark before we got thither, by help of company riding before us; and among others, a gentleman that took up at the same inn, the Falcon, with me, his name Mr. Brian, with whom I supped, and was very good company, and a scholar. He tells me, that it is believed the Queen is with child, for that the coaches are ordered to ride very easily through the streets. After supper we paid the reckoning together, and so he to his chamber and I to bed, very well, but my feet being much cramped by my new hard boots that I bought the other day of Wotton were in much pain. Will lay in another bed in the chamber with me.
. Up, and between eight and nine mounted again; but my feet so swelled with yesterday’s pain, that I could not get on my boots, which vexed me to the blood, but was forced to pay 4s. for a pair of old shoes of my landlord’s, and so rid in shoes to Cambridge; but the way so good that but for a little rain I had got very well thither, and set up at the Beare: and there being spied in the street passing through the town my cousin Angier came to me, and I must needs to his house, which I did; and there found Dr. Fairbrother, with a good dinner, a barrel of good oysters, a couple of lobsters, and wine. But, above all, telling me that this day there is a Congregation for the choice of some officers in the University, he after dinner gets me a gown, cap, and hood, and carries me to the Schooles, where Mr. Pepper, my brother’s tutor, and this day chosen Proctor, did appoint a M.A. to lead me into the Regent House, where I sat with them, and did [vote] by subscribing papers thus: “Ego Samuel Pepys eligo Magistrum Bernardum Skelton,1555 (and which was more strange, my old schoolfellow and acquaintance, and who afterwards did take notice of me, and we spoke together), alterum è taxatoribus hujus Academiæ in annum sequentem.” The like I did for one Biggs, for the other Taxor, and for other officers, as the Vice-Proctor (Mr. Covell), for Mr. Pepper, and which was the gentleman that did carry me into the Regent House. This being done, and the Congregation dissolved by the Vice-Chancellor, I did with much content return to my Cousin Angier’s, being much pleased of doing this jobb of work, which I had long wished for and could never have had such a time as now to do it with so much ease. Thence to Trinity Hall, and there stayed a good while with Dr. John Pepys, who tells me that [his] brother Roger has gone out of town to keep a Court; and so I was forced to go to Impington, to take such advice as my old uncle and his son Claxton1556 could give me. Which I did, and there supped and talked with them, but not of my business till by and by after supper comes in, unlooked for, my cousin Roger, with whom by and by I discoursed largely, and in short he gives me good counsel, but tells me plainly that it is my best way to study a composition with my uncle Thomas, for that law will not help us, and that it is but a folly to flatter ourselves, with which, though much to my trouble, yet I was well satisfied, because it told me what I am to trust to, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and after a little breakfast, and a very poor one, like our supper, and such as I cannot feed on, because of my she-cousin Claxton’s1557 gouty hands; and after Roger had carried me up and down his house and orchards, to show me them, I mounted, and rode to Huntingdon, and so to Brampton; where I found my father and two brothers, and Mr. Cooke, my mother and sister. So we are now all together, God knows when we shall be so again. I walked up and down the house and garden, and find my father’s alterations very handsome. But not so but that there will be cause enough of doing more if ever I should come to live there, but it is, however, very well for a country being as any little thing in the country. So to dinner, where there being nothing but a poor breast of mutton, and that ill-dressed, I was much displeased, there being Mr. Cooke there, who I invited to come over with my brother thither, and for whom I was concerned to make much of. I told my father and mother of it, and so had it very well mended for the time after, as long as I stayed, though I am very glad to see them live so frugally. But now to my business. I found my uncle Thomas come into the country, and do give out great words, and forwarns all our people of paying us rent, and gives out that he will invalidate the Will, it being but conditional, we paying debts and legacies, which we have not done, but I hope we shall yet go through well enough. I settled to look over papers, and discourse of business against the Court till the evening; and then rode to Hinchingbroke (Will with me), and there to my Lady’s chamber and saw her, but, it being night, and my head full of business, stayed not long, but drank a cup of ale below, and so home again, and to supper, and to bed, being not quiet in mind till I speak with Piggott, to see how his business goes, whose land lies mortgaged to my late uncle, but never taken up by him, and so I fear the heire at law will do it and that we cannot, but my design is to supplant him by pretending bonds as well as a mortgage for the same money, and so as executor have the benefit of the bonds.
. Made myself fine with Captain Ferrers’s lace band, being lothe to wear my own new scallop, it is so fine; and, after the barber had done with us, to church, where I saw most of the gentry of the parish; among others, Mrs. Hanbury, a proper lady, and Mr. Bernard and his Lady, with her father, my late Lord St. John,1558 who looks now like a very plain grave man. Mr. Wells preached a pretty good sermon, and they say he is pretty well in his witts again. So home to dinner, and so to walk in the garden, and then to Church again, and so home, there coming several people about business, and among others Mr. Piggott, who gives me good assurance of his truth to me and our business, in which I am very much pleased, and tells me what my uncle Thomas said to him and what he designs, which (in fine) is to be admitted to the estate as well as we, which I must endeavour to oppose as well as I can. So to supper, but my mind is so full of our business that I am no company at all, and then their drink do not please me, till I did send to Goody Stanks for some of hers which is very small and fresh, with a little taste of wormewood, which ever after did please me very well. So after supper to bed, thinking of business, but every night getting my brother John to go up with me for discourse sake, while I was making unready.1559
. Up to Hinchingbroke, and there with Mr. Sheply did look all over the house, and I do, I confess, like well of the alterations, and do like the staircase, but there being nothing to make the outside more regular and modern, I am not satisfied with it, but do think it to be too much to be laid out upon it. Thence with Sheply to Huntingdon to the Crown, and there did sit and talk, and eat a breakfast of cold roast beef, and so he to St. Ives Market, and I to Sir Robert Bernard’s for council, having a letter from my Lord Sandwich to that end. He do give it me with much kindness in appearance, and upon my desire do promise to put off my uncle’s admittance, if he can fairly, and upon the whole do make my case appear better to me than my cousin Roger did, but not so but that we are liable to much trouble, and that it will be best to come to an agreement if possible. With my mind here also pretty well to see things proceed so well I returned to Brampton, and spent the morning in looking over papers and getting my copies ready against tomorrow. So to dinner, and then to walk with my father and other business, when by and by comes in my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas to see us, and very calm they were and we to them. And after a short How do you, and drinking a cup of beer, they went away again, and so by and by my father and I to Mr. Phillips, and there discoursed with him in order to tomorrow’s business of the Court and getting several papers ready, when presently comes in my uncle Thomas and his son thither also, but finding us there I believe they were disappointed and so went forth again, and went to the house that Prior has lately bought of us (which was Barton’s) and there did make entry and forbade paying rent to us, as now I hear they have done everywhere else, and that that was their intent in coming to see us this day. I perceive most of the people that do deal with us begin to be afraid that their title to what they buy will not be good. Which troubled me also I confess a little, but I endeavoured to remove all as well as I could. Among other things they make me afraid that Barton was never admitted to that that my uncle bought of him, but I hope the contrary. Thence home, and with my father took a melancholy walk to Portholme, seeing the country-maids milking their cows there, they being there now at grass, and to see with what mirth they come all home together in pomp with their milk, and sometimes they have music go before them. So back home again, and to supper, and in comes Piggott with a counterfeit bond which by agreement between us (though it be very just in itself) he has made, by which I shall lay claim to the interest of the mortgage money, and so waiting with much impatience and doubt the issue of tomorrow’s Court, I to bed, but hardly slept half an hour the whole night, my mind did so run with fears of tomorrow.
. Up, and did digest into a method all I could say in our defence, in case there should be occasion, for I hear he will have counsel to plead for him in the Court, and so about nine o’clock to the court at the Lordship where the jury was called; and there being vacancies, they would have had my father, in respect to him, [to] have been one of the Homage, but he thought fit to refuse it, he not knowing enough the customs of the town. They being sworn and the charge given them, they fell to our business, finding the heir-at-law to be my uncle Thomas; but Sir Robert1560 did tell them that he had seen how the estate was devised to my father by my uncle’s will, according to the custom of the manour, which they would have denied, first, that it was not according to the custom of the manour, proposing some difficulty about the half-acre of land which is given the heir-at-law according to custom, which did put me into great fear lest it might not be in my uncle’s possession at his death, but mortgaged with other to T. Trice (who was there, and was with my good will admitted to Taylor’s house mortgaged to him if not being worth the money for which it was mortgaged, which I perceive he now, although he lately bragged the contrary, yet is now sensible of, and would have us to redeem it with money, and he would now resurrender it to us rather than the heir-at-law) or else that it was part of Goody Gorum’s in which she has a life, and so might not be capable of being according to the custom given to the heir-at-law, but Will Stanks tells me we are sure enough against all that. Then they fell to talk of Piggott’s land mortgaged to my uncle, but he never admitted to it, which they now as heir would have admitted to. But the steward, as he promised me, did find pretensions very kindly and readily to put off their admittance, by which I find they are much defeated, and if ever, I hope, will now listen to a treaty and agreement with us, at our meeting at London. So they took their leaves of the steward and Court, and went away, and by and by, after other business many brought in, they broke up to dinner. So my father and I home with great content to dinner; my mind now as full against the afternoon business, which we sat upon after dinner at the Court, and did sue out a recovery, and cut off the entail; and my brothers there, to join therein. And my father and I admitted to all the lands; he for life, and I for myself and my heirs in reversion, and then did surrender according to bargain to Prior, Greene, and Shepheard the three cottages with their appurtenances that they have bought of us, and that being done and taken leave of the steward, I did with most complete joy of mind go from the Court with my father home, and in a quarter of an hour did get on horseback, with my brother Tom, Cooke, and Will, all mounted, and without eating or drinking, take leave of father, mother, Pall, to whom I did give 10s., but have shown no kindness since I come, for I find her so very ill-natured that I cannot love her, and she so cruel a hypocrite that she can cry when she pleases, and John and I away, calling in at Hinchingbroke, and taking leave in three words of my Lady, and the young ladies; and so by moonlight most bravely all the way to Cambridge, with great pleasure, whither we come at about nine o’clock, and took up at the Bear, but the house being full of guests we had very ill lodging, which troubled me, but had a supper, and my mind at good ease, and so to bed. Will in another bed in my chamber.
. My mind, though out of trouble, yet intent upon my journey home, being desirous to know how all my matters go there, I could hardly sleep, but waked very early; and, when it was time, did call up Will, and we rose, and music (with a bandore1561 for the base) did give me a levet;1562 and so we got ready; and while breakfast was providing, I went forth (by the way finding Mr. George Mountagu and his Lady, whom I saluted, going to take their coach thus early to proceed on their journey, they having lodged in the chamber just under me all this night) and showed Mr. Cooke King’s College Chapel, Trinity College, and St. John’s College Library; and that being done, to our inn again: where I met Dr. Fairbrother brought thither by my brother Tom, and he did breakfast with us, a very good-natured man he is, and told us how the room we were in was the room where Cromwell and his associated officers did begin to plot and act their mischiefs in these counties. Having eat well, only our oysters proving bad, we mounted, having a pair of boots that I borrowed and carried with me from Impington, my own to be sent from Cambridge to London, and took leave of all, and begun our journey about nine o’clock. After we had rode about 10 miles we got out of our way into Royston road, which did vex me cruelly, and the worst for that my brother’s horse, which was lame yesterday, grows worse today, that he could not keep pace with us. At last with much ado we got into the road again, having misguided also a gentleman’s man who had lost his master and thought us to be going the same way did follow us, but coming into the road again we met with his master, by his coat a divine, but I perceiving Tom’s horse not able to keep with us, I desired Mr. Cooke and him to take their own time, and Will and I we rode before them keeping a good pace, and came to Ware about three o’clock in the afternoon, the ways being everywhere but bad. Here I fell into acquaintance and eat and drank with the divine, but know not who he is, and after an hour’s bait to myself and horses he, though resolved to have lodged there, yet for company would out again, and so we remounted at four o’clock, and he went with me as far almost as Tibbald’s1563 and there parted with us, taking up there for all night, but finding our horses in good case and the night being pretty light, though by reason of clouds the moon did not shine out, we even made shift from one place to another to reach London, though both of us very weary. And having left our horses at their masters, walked home, found all things well, and with full joy, though very weary, came home and went to bed, there happening nothing since our going to my discontent in the least degree; which do so please me, that I cannot but bless God for my journey, observing a whole course of success from the beginning to the end of it, and I do find it to be the reward of my diligence, which all along in this has been extraordinary, for I have not had the least kind of divertisement imaginable since my going forth, but merely carrying on my business which God has been pleased to bless. So to bed very hot and feverish by being weary, but early morning the fever was over.
. And so I rose in good temper, finding a good chimneypiece made in my upper dining room chamber, and the dining room wainscoat in a good forwardness, at which I am glad, and then to the office, where by T. Hater I found all things to my mind, and so we sat at the office till noon, and then at home to dinner with my wife. Then coming Mr. Creede in order to some business with Sir J. Minnes about his accounts, this afternoon I took him to the Treasury office, where Sir John and I did stay late paying some money to the men that are saved out of the Satisfaction1564 that was lost the other day. The King gives them half-pay, which is more than is used in such cases, for they never used to have anything, and yet the men were most outrageously discontented, and did rail and curse us till I was troubled to hear it, and wished myself unconcerned therein. Mr. Creede seeing us engaged took leave of us. Here late, and so home, and at the office set down my journey-journal to this hour, and so shut up my book, giving God thanks for my good success therein, and so home, and to supper, and to bed. I hear Mr. Moore is in a way of recovery. Sir H. Bennet made Secretary of State in Sir Edward Nicholas’s stead; not known whether by consent or not. My brother Tom and Cooke are come to town I hear this morning, and he sends me word that his mistress’s mother is also come to treat with us about her daughter’s portion and her jointure, which I am willing should be out of Sturtlow lands.
. This morning Tom comes to me, and I advise him how to deal with his mistress’s mother about his giving her a jointure, but I intend to speak with her shortly, and tell her my mind. Then to my Lord Sandwich by water, and told him how well things do go in the country with me, of which he was very glad, and seems to concern himself much for me. Thence with Mr. Creed to Westminster Hall, and by and by thither comes Captn. Ferrers, upon my sending for him, and we three to Creed’s chamber, and there sat a good while and drank chocolate. Here I am told how things go at Court; that the young men get uppermost, and the old serious lords are out of favour; that Sir H. Bennet,1565 being brought into Sir Edward Nicholas’s place, Sir Charles Barkeley1566 is made Privy Purse; a most vicious person, and one whom Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, today (at which I laugh to myself), did tell me that he offered his wife £300 per annum to be his mistress. He also told me that none in Court hath more the King’s ear now than Sir Charles Barkeley, and Sir H. Bennet, and my Lady Castlemaine, whose interest is now as great as ever and that Mrs. Haslerigge, the great beauty, is got with child, and now brought to bed, and lays it to the King or the Duke of York.1567 He tells me too that my Lord St. Albans1568 is like to be Lord Treasurer: all which things do trouble me much. Here I stayed talking a good while, and so by water to see Mr. Moore, who is out of bed and in a way to be well, and thence home, and with Commr. Pett by water to view Wood’s masts that he proffers to sell, which we found bad, and so to Deptford to look over some businesses, and so home and I to my office, all our talk being upon Sir J. M. and Sir W. B.’s base carriage against him at their late being at Chatham, which I am sorry to hear, but I doubt not but we shall fling Sir W. B. upon his back ere long. At my office, I hearing Sir W. Penn was not well, I went to him to see, and sat with him, and so home and to bed.
. This morning, having resolved of my brother’s entertaining his mistress’s mother tomorrow, I sent my wife thither today to lie there tonight and to direct him in the business, and I all the morning at the office, and the afternoon intent upon my workmen, especially my joiners, who will make my dining room very pretty. At night to my office to dispatch business, and then to see Sir W. Penn, who continues in great pain, and so home and alone to bed, but my head being full of my own and my brother Tom’s business I could hardly sleep, though not in much trouble, but only multitude of thoughts.
. Got me ready in the morning and put on my first new laceband; and so neat it is, that I am resolved my great expense shall be lacebands, and it will set off anything else the more. So walked to my brother’s, where I met Mr. Cooke, and discoursing with him do find that he and Tom have promised a jointure of £50 to his mistress, and say that I did give my consent that she should be jointured in £30 per ann. for Sturtlow, and the rest to be made up out of her portion. At which I was stark mad, and very angry the business should be carried with so much folly and against my mind and all reason. But I was willing to forbear discovering of it, and did receive Mrs. Butler, her mother, Mr. Lull and his wife, very civil people, very kindly, and without the least discontent, and Tom had a good and neat dinner for us. We had little discourse of any business, but leave it to one Mr. Smith on her part and myself on ours. So we stayed till sermon was done, and I took leave, and to see Mr. Moore, who recovers well; and his doctor coming to him, one Dr. Merrit,1569 we had some of his very good discourse of anatomy, and other things, very pleasant. By and by, I with Mr. Townsend walked in the garden, talking and advising with him about Tom’s business, and he tells me he will speak with Smith, and says I offer fair to give her £30 jointure and no more. Thence Tom waiting for me homewards towards my house, talking and scolding him for his folly, and telling him my mind plainly what he has to trust to if he goes this way to work, for he shall never have her upon the terms they demand of £50. He left me, and I to my uncle Wight, and there supped, and there was pretty Mistress Margt. Wight, whom I esteem very pretty, and love dearly to look upon her. We were very pleasant, I droning with my aunt and them, but I am sorry to hear that the news of the selling of Dunkirk1570 is taken so generally ill, as I find it is among the merchants; and other things, as removal of officers at Court, good for worse; and all things else made much worse in their report among people than they are. And this night, I know not upon what ground, the gates of the City ordered to be kept shut, and double guards everywhere. So home, and after preparing things against tomorrow for the Duke, to bed. Indeed I do find everybody’s spirit very full of trouble; and the things of the Court and Council very ill taken; so as to be apt to appear in bad colours, if there should ever be a beginning of trouble, which God forbid!
. Up and in Sir J. Minnes’s coach with him and Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, where now the Duke is come again to lodge: and to Mr. Coventry’s little new chamber there. And by and by up to the Duke, who was making himself ready; and there among other discourse young Killigrew did so commend The Villaine,1571 a new play made by Tom Porter; and acted only on Saturday at the Duke’s house, as if there never had been any such play come upon the stage. The same yesterday was told me by Captain Ferrers; and this morning afterwards by Dr. Clerke, who saw it. Insomuch that after I had done with the Duke, and thence gone with Commissioner Pett to Mr. Lilly’s,1572 the great painter, who came forth to us; but believing that I come to bespeak a picture, he prevented us by telling us, that he should not be at leisure these three weeks; which methinks is a rare thing. And then to see in what pomp his table was laid for himself to go to dinner; and here, among other pictures, saw the so much desired by me picture of my Lady Castlemaine, which is a most blessed picture; and that that I must have a copy of. And having thence gone to my brother’s, where my wife lodged last night, and eat something there, I took her by coach to the Duke’s house, and there was the house full of company: but whether it was in over-expecting or what, I know not, but I was never less pleased with a play in my life. Though there was good singing and dancing, yet no fancy in the play, but something that made it less contenting was my conscience that I ought not to have gone by my vow, and, besides, my business commanded me elsewhere. But, however, as soon as I came home I did pay my crown to the poor’s box, according to my vow, and so no harm as to that is done, but only business lost and money lost, and my old habit of pleasure wakened, which I will keep down the more hereafter, for I thank God these pleasures are not sweet to me now in the very enjoying of them. So by coach home, and after a little business at my office, and seeing Sir W. Penn, who continues ill, I went to bed. Dunkirk, I am confirmed, is absolutely sold; for which I am very sorry.
. Up, and while I was dressing myself, my brother Tom being there I did chide him for his folly in abusing himself about the match, for I perceive he do endeavour all he can to get her, and she and her friends to have more than her portion deserves, which now from 6 or £700 is come to £450. I did by several steps show Tom how he would not be £100 the better for her according to the ways he took to jointure her. After having done with him to the office, and there all the morning, and in the middle of our sitting my workmen setting about the putting up of my rails upon my leads, Sir J. Minnes did spy them and fell a-swearing, which I took no notice of, but was vexed, and am still to the very heart for it, for fear it should put him upon taking the closet and my chamber from me, which I protest I am now afraid of. But it is my very great folly to be so much troubled at these trifles, more than at the loss of £100, or things of greater concernment; but I forget the lesson I use to preach to others of τὰ ἐφ’ ἡμῖν καὶ τὰ οὐκ ἑφ’ ἡμῖν.1573 After dinner to my office with my head and heart full of troublesome business, and thence by water with Mr. Smith, to Mr. Lechmore,1574 the Counsellor at the Temple, about Field’s business; and he tells me plainly that, there being a verdict against me, there is no help for it, but it must proceed to judgment. It is £30 damage to me for my joining with others in committing Field to prison, we being not justices of the Peace in the City, though in Middlesex; this troubled me, but I hope the King will make it good to us. Thence to Mr. Smith, the scrivener, upon Ludgate Hill, to whom Mrs. Butler do commit her business concerning her daughter and my brother. He tells me her daughter’s portion is but £400, at which I am more troubled than before; and they find fault that his house is too little. So after I had told him my full mind, I went away to meet again tomorrow, but I believe the business will be broke off, which for Tom’s sake I am much grieved for, but it cannot be helped without his ruin. Thence to see Mr. Moore, who is pretty well again, and we read over and discoursed about Mrs. Goldsborough’s business, and her son coming by my appointment thither, I did tell him our resolution as to her having her estate reconveyed to her. Hither also came my brother, and before Mr. Moore I did advise and counsel him about his match, and how we had all been abused by Mr. Cooke’s folly. So home and to my office, and there settled many businesses, and so home and to supper, and so to bed, Sir W. Penn being still in great pain.
. Up, and carrying my wife and her brother to Covent Garden, near their father’s new lodging, by coach, I to my Lord Sandwich’s, who receives me now more and more kindly, now he sees that I am respected in the world; and is my most noble patron. Here I stayed and talked about many things, with my Lord and Mr. Povy, being there about Tangier business, for which the Commission is a taking out. Hence (after talking with Mr. Cooke, whom I met here about Mrs. Butler’s portion, he do persist to say that it will be worth £600 certain, when he knows as well as I do now that it is but £400, and so I told him, but he is a fool, and has made fools of us). So I by water to my brother’s, and thence to Mr. Smith’s, where I was, last night, and there by appointment met Mrs. Butler, with whom I plainly discoursed and she with me. I find she will give but £400, and no more, and is not willing to do that without a jointure, which she expects and I will not grant for that portion, and upon the whole I find that Cooke has made great brags on both sides, and so has abused us both, but know not how to help it, for I perceive she had much greater expectations of Tom’s house and being than she finds. But however we did break off the business wholly, but with great love and kindness between her and me, and would have been glad we had known one another’s minds sooner, without being misguided by this fellow to both our shames and trouble. For I find her a very discreet, sober woman, and her daughter, I understand and believe, is a good lady; and if portions did agree, though she finds fault with Tom’s house, and his bad imperfection in his speech, I believe we should well agree in other matters. After taking a kind farewell, I to Tom’s, and there did give him a full account of this sad news, with which I find he is much troubled, but do appear to me to be willing to be guided herein, and apprehends that it is not for his good to do otherwise, and so I do persuade [him] to follow his business again, and I hope he will, but for Cooke’s part and Dr. Pepys, I shall know them for two fools another time. Hence, it raining hard, by coach home, being first trimmed here by Benier, who being acquainted with all the players, do tell me that Betterton is not married to Ianthe,1575 as they say; but also that he is a very sober, serious man, and studious and humble, following of his studies, and is rich already with what he gets and saves, and then to my office till late, doing great deal of business, and settling my mind in pretty good order as to my business, though at present they are very many. So home and to bed. This night was buried, as I hear by the bells at Barking Church, my poor Morena,1576 whose sickness being desperate, did kill her poor father; and he being dead for sorrow, she could not recover, nor desire to live, but from that time do languish more and more, and so is now dead and buried.
. Up and among my workmen, and so to the office, and there sitting all the morning we stepped all out to visit Sir W. Batten, who it seems has not been well all yesterday, but being let blood is now pretty well, and Sir W. Penn after office I went to see, but he continues in great pain of the gout and in bed, cannot stir hand nor foot but with great pain. So to my office all the evening putting things public and private in order, and so at night home and to supper and to bed, finding great content since I am come to follow my business again, which God preserve in me.
. After with great pleasure lying a great while talking and sporting in bed with my wife (for we have been for some years now, and at present more and more, a very happy couple, blessed be God), I got up and to my office, and having done there some business, I by water, and then walked to Deptford to discourse with Mr. Lowly and Davis about my late conceptions about keeping books of the distinct works done in the yards, against which I find no objection but their ignorance and unwillingness to do anything of pains and what is out of their ordinary dull road, but I like it well, and will proceed in it. So home and dined there with my wife upon a most excellent dish of tripes of my own directing, covered with mustard, as I have heretofore seen them done at my Lord Crew’s, of which I made a very great meal, and sent for a glass of wine for myself, and so to see Sir W. Penn, who continues bed-rid in great pain, and hence to the Treasury to Sir J. Minnes paying off of tickets, and at night home, and in my study (after seeing Sir W. Batten, who also continues ill) I fell to draw out my conceptions about books for the clerk that cheques in the yard to keep according to the distinct works there, which pleases me very well, and I am confident it will be of great use. At 9 at night home, and to supper, and to bed. This noon came to see me and sat with me a little after dinner Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, who tells me how ill things go at Court: that the King do show no countenance to any that belong to the Queen; nor, above all, to such English as she brought over with her, or hath here since, for fear they should tell her how he carries himself to Mrs. Palmer;1577 insomuch that though he has a promise, and is sure of being made her chirurgeon, he is at a loss what to do in it, whether to take it or no, since the King’s mind is so altered in favour to all her dependants, whom she is fain to let go back into Portugal (though she brought them from their friends against their wills with promise of preferment), without doing anything for them. But he tells me that her own physician did tell him within these three days that the Queen do know how the King orders things, and how he carries himself to my Lady Castlemaine and others, as well as anybody; but though she hath spirit enough, yet seeing that she do no good by taking notice of it, for the present she forbears it in policy; of which I am very glad. But I pray God keep us in peace; for this, with other things, do give great discontent to all people.
. Up and to the office, and there with Mr. Coventry sat all the morning, only we two, the rest being absent or sick. Dined at home with my wife upon a good dish of neats’ feet and mustard, of which I made a good meal. All the afternoon alone at my office and among my workmen, who (I mean the joiners) have even ended my dining room, and will be very handsome and to my full content. In the evening at my office about one business or another, and so home and to bed, with my mind every day more and more quiet since I come to follow my business, and shall be very happy indeed when the trouble of my house is over.
.Up and put on my new Scallop, and is very fine. To church, and there saw the first time Mr. Mills in a surplice; but it seemed absurd for him to pull it over his ears in the reading-pew, after he had done, before all the church, to go up to the pulpit, to preach without it. Home and dined, and Mr. Sympson, my joiner that do my dining room, and my brother Tom with me to a delicate fat pig. Tom takes his disappointment of his mistress to heart; but all will be well again in a little time. Then to church again, and heard a simple Scot preach most tediously. So home, and to see Sir W. Batten, who is pretty well again, and then to my uncle Wight’s to show my fine band and to see Mrs. Margaret Wight, but she was not there. All this day soldiers going up and down the town, there being an alarm and many Quakers and others clapped up; but I believe without any reason: only they say in Dorsetshire there hath been some rising discovered. So after supper home, and then to my study, and making up my monthly account to myself. I find myself, by my expense in bands and clothes this month, abated a little of my last, and that I am worth £679 still; for which God be praised. So home and to bed with quiet mind, blessed be God, but afeard of my candle’s going out, which makes me write thus slubberingly.1578
. Up, and after giving order to the plasterer now to set upon the finishing of my house, then by water to wait upon the Duke, and walking in the matted Gallery, by and by comes Mr. Coventry and Sir John Minnes, and then to the Duke, and after he was ready, to his closet, where I did give him my usual account of matters, and afterwards, upon Sir J. Minnes’ desire to have one to assist him in his employment, Sir W. Penn is appointed to be his, and Mr. Pett to be the Surveyor’s assistant. Mr. Coventry did desire to be excused, and so I hope (at least it is my present opinion) to have none joined with me, but only Mr. Coventry do desire that I would find work for one of his clerks, which I did not deny, but however I will think of it, whether without prejudice to mine I can do it. Thence to my Lord Sandwich, who nowadays calls me into his chamber, and alone did discourse with me about the jealousy that the Court have of people’s rising; wherein he do much dislike my Lord Monk’s being so eager against a company of poor wretches, dragging them up and down the street; but would have him rather to take some of the greatest ringleaders of them, and punish them; whereas this do but tell the world the King’s fears and doubts. For Dunkirk; he wonders any wise people should be so troubled thereat, and scorns all their talk against it, for that he says it was not Dunkirk, but the other places, that did and would annoy us, though we had that, as much as if we had it not. He also took notice of the new Ministers of State, Sir H. Bennet and Sir Charles Barkeley, their bringing in, and the high game that my Lady Castlemaine plays at Court (which I took occasion to mention as that that the people do take great notice of), all which he confessed. Afterwards he told me of poor Mr. Spong, that being with other people examined before the King and Council (they being laid up as suspected persons; and it seems Spong is so far thought guilty as that they intend to pitch upon him to put to the rack or some other torture), he do take knowledge of my Lord Sandwich, and said that he was well known to Mr. Pepys. But my Lord knows, and I told him, that it was only in matter of music and pipes, but that I thought him to be a very innocent fellow; and indeed I am very sorry for him. After my Lord and I had done in private, we went out, and with Captain Cuttance and Bunn did look over their draught of a bridge for Tangier, which will be brought by my desire to our office by them tomorrow. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked long with Mr. Creed, and then to the great half-a-crown ordinary, at the King’s Head, near Charing Cross, where we had a most excellent neat dinner and very high company, and in a noble manner. After dinner he and I into another room over a pot of ale and talked. He showed me our commission, wherein the Duke of York, Prince Rupert, Duke of Albemarle, Lord Peterborough, Lord Sandwich, Sir G. Carteret, Sir William Compton, Mr. Coventry, Sir R. Ford, Sir William Rider, Mr. Cholmley, Mr. Povy, myself, and Captain Cuttance, in this order are joined for the carrying on the service of Tangier, which I take for a great honour to me. He told me what great faction there is at Court; and above all, what is whispered, that young Crofts is lawful son to the King, the King being married to his mother.1579 How true this is, God knows; but I believe the Duke of York will not be fooled in this of three crowns. Thence to Whitehall, and walked long in the galleries till (as they are commanded to all strange persons), one come to tell us, we not being known, and being observed to walk there four or five hours (which was not true, unless they count my walking there in the morning), he was commanded to ask who we were; which being told, he excused his question, and was satisfied. These things speak great fear and jealousies. Here we stayed some time, thinking to stay out the play before the King tonight, but it being The Villaine, and my wife not being there, I had no mind. So walk to the Exchange, and there took many turns with him; among other things, observing one very pretty Exchange lass, with her face full of black patches, which was a strange sight. So bid him good night and away by coach to Mr. Moore, with whom I stayed an hour, and found him pretty well and intends to go abroad tomorrow, and so it raining hard by coach home, and having visited both Sir Williams, who are both sick, but like to be well again, I to my office, and there did some business, and so home and to bed. At Sir W. Batten’s I met with Mr. Mills, who tells me that he could get nothing out of the maid hard by (that did poison herself) before she died, but that she did it because she did not like herself, nor had not liked herself, nor anything she did a great while. It seems she was well-favoured enough, but crooked, and this was all she could be got to say, which is very strange.
. At the office sitting all the morning, and then home to dinner with my wife, and after dinner she and I passing an hour or two in ridiculous talk, and then to my office, doing business there till 9 at night, and so home and to supper and to bed. My house is now in its last dirt, I hope, the plasterer and painter now being upon winding up all my trouble, which I expect will now in a fortnight’s time, or a little more, be quite over.
. Intended to have made me fine, and by invitation to have dined with the Lord Mayor today, but going to see Sir W. Batten this morning, I found Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes going with Sir W. Batten and myself to examine Sir G. Carteret’s accounts for the last year, whereupon I settled to it with them all the day long, only dinner time (which Sir G. Carteret gave us), and by night did as good as finish them, and so parted, and thence to my office, and there set papers in order and business against tomorrow. I received a letter this day from my father, speaking more trouble about my uncle Thomas his business, and of proceeding to lay claim to Brampton and all my uncle left, because it is given conditional that we should pay legacies, which to him we have not yet done, but I hope that will do us no hurt; God help us if it should, but it disquiets my mind. I have also a letter from my Lord Sandwich desiring me upon matters of concernment to be with him early tomorrow morning, which I wonder what it should be. So my mind full of thoughts, and some trouble at night, home and to bed. Sir G. Carteret, who had been at the examining most of the late people that are clapped up, do say that he do not think that there hath been any great plotting among them, though they have a good will to it; but their condition is so poor, and silly, and low, that they do not fear them at all.
. Could sleep but little tonight for thoughts of my business. So up by candlelight and by water to Whitehall, and so to my Lord Sandwich, who was up in his chamber and all alone, did acquaint me with his business; which was, that our old acquaintance Mr. Wade (in Axe Yard) hath discovered to him £7,000 hid in the Tower, of which he was to have two for discovery; my Lord himself two, and the King the other three, when it was found; and that the King’s warrant runs for me on my Lord’s part, and one Mr. Lee for Sir Harry Bennet, to demand leave of the Lieutenant of the Tower for to make search. After he had told me the whole business, I took leave and hastened to my office, expecting to be called by a letter from my Lord to set upon the business, and so there I sat with the officers all the morning. At noon when we were up comes Mr. Wade with my Lord’s letter, and tells me the whole business. So we consulted for me to go first to Sir H. Bennet, who is now with many of the Privy Counsellors at the Tower, examining of their late prisoners, to advise with him when to begin. So I went; and the guard at the Tower Gate, making me leave my sword at the gate, I was forced to stay so long in the alehouse hard by, till my boy run home for my cloak, that my Lord Mayor that now is, Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, with all his company, was gone with their coaches to his house in Minchen Lane.1580 So my cloak being come, I walked thither; and there, by Sir G. Carteret’s means, did presently speak with Sir H. Bennet, who did show and give me the King’s warrant to me and Mr. Leigh, and another to himself, for the paying of £2,000 to my Lord, and other two to the discoverers. After a little discourse, dinner come in; and I dined with them. There was my Lord Mayor, my Lord Lauderdale, Mr. Secretary Morris, to whom Sir H. Bennet would give the upper hand; Sir Wm. Compton, Sir G. Carteret, and myself, and some other company, and a brave dinner. After dinner, Sir H. Bennet did call aside the Lord Mayor and me, and did break the business to him, who did not, nor durst appear the least averse to it, but did promise all assistance forthwith to set upon it. So Mr. Lee and I to our office, and there walked till Mr. Wade and one Evett his guide did come, and W. Griffin, and a porter with his picke-axes, etc.; and so they walked along with us to the Tower, and Sir H. Bennet and my Lord Mayor did give us full power to fall to work. So our guide demands, a candle, and down into the cellars he goes, inquiring whether they were the same that Baxter1581 always had. We went into several little cellars, and then went out a-doors to view, and to the Cole Harbour;1582 but none did answer so well to the marks which was given him to find it by, as one arched vault. Where, after a great deal of council whether to set upon it now, or delay for better and more full advice, we set to it, to digging we went to almost eight o’clock at night, but could find nothing. But, however, our guides did not at all seem discouraged; for that they being confident that the money is there they look for, but having never been in the cellars, they could not be positive to the place, and therefore will inform themselves more fully now they have been there, of the party that do advise them. So locking the door after us, we left work tonight, and up to the Deputy Governor (my Lord Mayor, and Sir H. Bennet, with the rest of the company being gone an hour before); and he do undertake to keep the key of the cellars, that none shall go down without his privity. But, Lord! to see what a young simple fantastic coxcombe is made Deputy Governor, would make one mad; and how he called out for his nightgown of silk, only to make a show to us; and yet for half an hour I did not think he was the Deputy Governor, and so spoke not to him about the business, but waited for another man; at last I broke our business to him; and he promising his care, we parted. And Mr. Leigh and I by coach to Whitehall, where I did give my Lord Sandwich an account of our proceedings, and some encouragement to hope for something hereafter, and so bade him good night, and so by coach home again, where to my trouble I found that the painter had not been here today to do anything, which vexes me mightily. So to my office to put down my journal, and so home and to bed. This morning, walking with Mr. Coventry in the garden, he did tell me how Sir G. Carteret had carried the business of the Victuallers’ money to be paid by himself, contrary to old practice; at which he is angry I perceive, but I believe means no hurt, but that things maybe done as they ought. He expects Sir George should not bespatter him privately, in revenge, but openly. Against which he prepares to bedaub him, and swears he will do it from the beginning, from Jersey to this day. And as to his own taking of too large fees or rewards for places that he had sold, he will prove that he was directed to it by Sir George himself among others. And yet he did not deny Sir G. Carteret his due, in saying that he is a man that do take the most pains, and gives himself the most to do business of any man about the Court, without any desire of pleasure or divertisements; which is very true. But which pleased me mightily, he said in these words, that he was resolved, whatever it cost him, to make an experiment, and see whether it was possible for a man to keep himself up in Court by dealing plainly and walking uprightly, with any private game a playing: in the doing whereof, if his ground do slip from under him, he will be contented; but he is resolved to try, and never to balk taking notice of anything that is to the King’s prejudice, let it fall where it will; which is a most brave resolucion. He was very free with me; and by my troth, I do see more real worth in him than in most men that I do know. I would not forget two passages of Sir J. Minnes’s at yesterday’s dinner. The one, that to the question how it comes to pass that there are no boars seen in London, but many sows and pigs; it was answered, that the constable gets them a-nights. The other, Thos. Killigrew’s way of getting to see plays when he was a boy. He would go to the Red Bull, and when the man cried to the boys, “Who will go and be a devil, and he shall see the play for nothing?” then would he go in, and be a devil upon the stage, and so get to see plays.
. Lay pretty long in bed, and then up and among my workmen, the carpenters being this day laying of my floor of my dining room, with whom I stayed a good while, and so to my office, and did a little business, and so home to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon with my carpenters, making them lay all my boards but one in my dining room this day, which I am confident they would have made two good days work of if I had not been there, and it will be very pleasant. At night to my office, and there late doing of my office business, and so home to supper and bed. Thus ends this month, I and my family in good health, but weary heartily of dirt, but now in hopes within two or three weeks to be out of it. My head troubled with much business, but especially my fear of Sir J. Minnes claiming my bedchamber of me, but I hope now that it is almost over, for I perceive he is fitting his house to go into it the next week. Then my law businesses for Brampton makes me mad almost, for that I want time to follow them, but I must by no means neglect them. I thank God I do save money, though it be but a little, but I hope to find out some job or other that I may get a sum by to set me up. I am now also busy in a discovery for my Lord Sandwich and Sir H. Bennett by Mr. Wade’s means of some of Baxter’s [Barkstead] money hid in one of his cellars in the Tower. If we get it it may be I may be 10 or £20 the better for it. I thank God I have no crosses, but only much business to trouble my mind with. In all other things as happy a man as any in the world, for the whole world seems to smile upon me, and if my house were done that I could diligently follow my business, I would not doubt to do God, and the King, and myself good service. And all I do impute almost wholly to my late temperance, since my making of my vowes against wine and plays, which keeps me most happily and contentfully to my business; which God continue! Public matters are full of discontent, what with the sale of Dunkirk, and my Lady Castlemaine, and her faction at Court; though I know not what they would have more than to debauch the king, whom God preserve from it! And then great plots are talked to be discovered, and all the prisons in town full of ordinary people, taken from their meeting-places last Sunday. But for certain some plots there hath been, though not brought to a head.
November 1662
. Up and after a little while with my workmen I went to my office, and then to our sitting all the morning. At noon with Mr. Creede, whom I found at my house, to the Trinity House, to a great dinner there, by invitacion, and much company. It seems one Captain Evans makes his Elder Brother’s dinner today. Among other discourses one Mr. Oudant, secretary to the late Princess of Orange, did discourse of the convenience as to keeping the highways from being deep, by their horses, in Holland (and Flanders where the ground is as miry as ours is), going in their carts and, wagons as ours in coaches, wishing the same here as an expedient to make the ways better, and I think there is something in it, where there is breadth enough. Thence to my office, sent for to meet Mr. Leigh again, from Sir H. Bennet. And he and I, with Wade and his intelligencer and labourers, to the Tower cellars, to make one trial more; where we stayed two or three hours digging, and dug a great deal all under the arches, as it was now most confidently directed, and so seriously, and upon pretended good grounds, that I myself did truly expect to speed; but we missed of all: and so we went away the second time like fools. And to our office, whither, a coach being come, Mr. Leigh goes home to Whitehall; and I by appointment to the Dolphin Tavern, to meet Wade and the other, Captn. Evett, who now do tell me plainly, that he that do put him upon this is one that had it from Barkestead’s own mouth, and was advised with by him, just before the King’s coming in, how to get it out, and had all the signs told him how and where it lay, and had always been the great confident of Barkestead even to the trusting him with his life and all he had. So that he did much convince me that there is good ground for what we go about. But I fear it may be that he did find some conveyance of it away, without the help of this man, before he died. But he is resolved to go to the party once more, and then to determine what we shall do further. So we parted, and I to my office, where after sending away my letters to the post I do hear that Sir J. Minnes is resolved to turn part of our entry into a room and to divide the back yard between Sir W. Penn and him, which though I do not see how it will annoy me much particularly, yet it do trouble me a little for fear it should, but I do not see how it can well unless in his desiring my coming to my back stairs, but for that I shall do as well as himself or Sir W. Penn, who is most concerned to look after it.
. Lay long with pleasure talking with my wife, in whom I never had greater content, blessed be God! than now, she continuing with the same care and thrift and innocence, so long as I keep her from occasions of being otherwise, as ever she was in her life, and keeps the house as well. To church, where Mr. Mills, after he had read the service, and shifted himself as he did the last day, preached a very ordinary sermon. So home to dinner with my wife. Then up into my new rooms which are almost finished, and there walked with great content talking with my wife till church time, and then to church, and there being a lazy preacher I slept out the sermon, and so home, and after visiting the two Sir Williams, who are both of them mending apace, I to my office preparing things against tomorrow for the Duke, and so home and to bed, with some pain, … having taken cold this morning in sitting too long barelegged to pare my corns. My wife and I spent a good deal of this evening in reading Du Bartas’ Imposture and other parts which my wife of late has taken up to read, and is very fine as anything I meet with.
. Up and with Sir J. Minnes in his coach to Whitehall, to the Duke’s; but found him gone out a-hunting. Thence to my Lord Sandwich, from whom I receive every day more and more signs of his confidence and esteem of me. Here I met with Pierce the chirurgeon, who tells me that my Lady Castlemaine is with child; but though it be the King’s, yet her Lord being still in town, and sometimes seeing of her, though never to eat or lie together, it will be laid to him. He tells me also how the Duke of York is smitten in love with my Lady Chesterfield1583 (a virtuous lady, daughter to my Lord of Ormond); and so much, that the duchess of York hath complained to the King and her father about it, and my Lady Chesterfield is gone into the country for it. At all which I am sorry; but it is the effect of idleness, and having nothing else to employ their great spirits upon. Thence with Mr. Creede and Mr. Moore (who is got upon his legs and come to see my Lord) to Wilkinson’s, and there I did give them and Mr. Howe their dinner of roast beef, cost me 5s., and after dinner carried Mr. Moore as far as Paul’s in a coach, giving him direction about my law business, and there set him down, and I home and among my workmen, who happened of all sorts to meet to their making an end of a great many jobbs, so that after tomorrow I shall have but a little plastering and all the painting almost to do, which was good content to me. At night to my office, and did business; and there came to me Mr. Wade and Evett, who have been again with their prime intelligencer, a woman, I perceive: and though we have missed twice, yet they bring such an account of the probability of the truth of the thing, though we are not certain of the place, that we shall set upon it once more; and I am willing and hopeful in it. So we resolved to set upon it again on Wednesday morning; and the woman herself will be there in a disguise, and confirm us in the place. So they took leave for the night, and I to my business, and then home to my wife and to supper and bed, my pain being going away. So by God’s great blessing my mind is in good condition of quiet.
. Lay long talking pleasantly with my wife in bed, it having rained, and do still, very much all night long. Up and to the office, where we sat till noon. This morning we had news by letters that Sir Richard Stayner1584 is dead at sea in the Mary, which is now come into Portsmouth from Lisbon; which we are sorry for, he being a very stout seaman. But there will be no great miss of him for all that. Dined at home with my wife, and all the afternoon among my workmen, and at night to my office to do business there, and then to see Sir W. Penn, who is still sick, but his pain less than it was. He took occasion to talk with me about Sir J. Minnes’s intention to divide the entry and the yard, and so to keep him out of the yard, and forcing him to go through the garden to his house. Which he is vexed at, and I am glad to see that Sir J. Minnes do use him just as he do me, and so I perceive it is not anything extraordinary his carriage to me in the matter of our houses, for this is worse than anything he has done to me, that he should give order for the stopping up of his way to his house without so much as advising with him or letting of him know it, and I confess that it is very highly and basely done of him. So to my office again, and after doing business there, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and with my painters painting my dining room all day long till night, not stirring out at all. Only in the morning my Lady Batten did send to speak with me, and told me very civilly that she did not desire, nor hoped I did, that anything should pass between us but what was civil, though there was not the neighbourliness between her and my wife that was fit to be, and so complained of my maid’s mocking of her; when she called “Nan” to her maid within her own house, my maid Jane in the garden overheard her, and mocked her, and some other suchlike things she told me, and of my wife’s speaking unhandsomely of her; to all which I did give her a very respectful answer, such as did please her, and am sorry indeed that this should be, though I do not desire there should be any acquaintance between my wife and her. But I promised to avoid such words and passages for the future. So home, and by and by Sir W. Penn did send for me to his bedside; and tell me how really Sir J. Minnes did resolve to have one of my rooms, and that he was very angry and hot, and said he would speak to the Duke. To which, knowing that all this was but to scare me, and to get him to put off his resolution of making up the entry, I did tell him plainly how I did not value his anger more, than he did mine, and that I should be willing to do what the Duke commanded, and I was sure to have justice of him, and that was all I did say to him about it, though I was much vexed, and after a little stay went home; and there telling my wife she did put me into heart, and resolve to offer him to change lodgings, and believe that that will one way or other bring us to some end in this dispute. At night I called up my maids, and schooled Jane, who did answer me so humbly and drolly about it, that though I seemed angry, I was much pleased with her and [my] wife also. So at night to bed.
. At the office forenoon and afternoon till late at night, very busy answering my Lord Treasurer’s letter, and my mind troubled till we come to some end with Sir J. Minnes about our lodgings, and so home. And after some pleasant discourse and supper to bed, and in my dream much troubled by being with Will. Swan, a great fanatic, my old acquaintance, and, methought, taken and led up with him for a plotter, all our discourse being at present about the late plots.
. Up and being by appointment called upon by Mr. Lee, he and I to the Tower, to make our third attempt upon the cellar. And now privately the woman, Barkestead’s great confident, is brought, who do positively say that this is the place which he did say the money was hid in, and where he and she did put up the £50,0001585 in butter firkins; and the very day that he went out of England did say that neither he nor his would be the better for that money, and therefore wishing that she and hers might. And so left us, and we full of hope did resolve to dig all over the cellar, which by seven o’clock at night we performed. At noon we sent for a dinner, and upon the head of a barrel dined very merrily, and to work again. Between times, Mr. Lee, who had been much in Spain, did tell me pretty stories of the customs and other things, as I asked him, of the country, to my great content. But at last we saw we were mistaken; and after digging the cellar quite through, and removing the barrels from one side to the other, we were forced to pay our porters, and give over our expectations, though I do believe there must be money hid somewhere by him, or else he did delude this woman in hopes to oblige her to further serving him, which I am apt to believe. Thence by coach to Whitehall, and at my Lord’s lodgings did write a letter, he not being within, to tell him how things went, and so away again, only hearing that Mrs. Sarah is married, I did go upstairs again and joy her and kiss her, she owning of it; and it seems it is to a cook. I am glad she is disposed of, for she grows old, and is very painful1586 and one I have reason to wish well for her old service to me. Then to my brother’s, where my wife, by my order, is tonight to stay a night or two while my house is made clean, and thence home, where I am angry to see, instead of the house made in part clean, all the pewter goods and other things are brought up to scouring, which makes the house ten times worse, at which I was very much displeased, but cannot help it. So to my office to set down my journal, and so home and to bed.
. All the morning sitting at the office, and after that dined alone at home, and so to the office again till 9 o’clock, being loth to go home, the house is so dirty, and my wife at my brother’s. So home and to bed.
. Lay alone a good while, my mind busy about pleading tomorrow to the Duke if there shall be occasion for this chamber that I lie in against Sir J. Minnes. Then up, and after being ready walked to my brother’s, where my wife is, calling at many churches, and then to the Temple, hearing a bit there too, and observing that in the streets and churches the Sunday is kept in appearance as well as I have known it at any time. Then to dinner to my brother’s, only he and my wife, and after dinner to see Mr. Moore, who is pretty well, and he and I to St. Gregory’s, where I escaped a great fall down the staires of the gallery: so into a pew there and heard Dr. Ball1587 make a very good sermon, though short of what I expected, as for the most part it do fall out. So home with Mr. Moore to his chamber, and after a little talk I walked home to my house and stayed at Sir W. Batten’s. Till late at night with him and Sir J. Minnes, with whom we did abundance of most excellent discourse of former passages of sea commanders and officers of the navy, and so home and to bed, with my mind well at ease but only as to my chamber, which I fear to lose.
. Up betimes and to set my workmen to work, and then a little to the office, and so with Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and myself by coach to Whitehall, to the Duke, who, after he was ready, did take us into his closet. Thither come my Lord General Monk, and did privately talk with the Duke about having the life-guards pass through the City today only for show and to fright people, for I perceive there are great fears abroad; for all which I am troubled and full of doubt that things will not go well. He being gone, we fell to business of the Navy. Among other things, how to pay off this fleet that is now come from Portugal; the King of Portugal sending them home, he having no more use for them, which we wonder at, that his condition should be so soon altered. And our landmen also are coming back, being almost starved in that poor country. Having done here I went by my Lord Sandwich’s, who was not at home, and so to Westminster Hall, where full of term, and here met with many about business, among others my cousin Roger Pepys, who is all for a composition with my uncle Thomas, which upon any fair terms I am for also and desire it. Thence by water, and so by land to my Lord Crew’s, and dined with him and his brother, I know not his name; where very good discourse; among others, of France’s intention to make a patriarch of his own, independent from the Pope, by which he will be able to cope with the Spaniard in all councils, which hitherto he has never done. My Lord Crew told us how he heard my Lord of Holland1588 say that, being Embassador about the match with the Queen-Mother that now is, the King of France1589 insisted upon a dispensation from the Pope, which my Lord Holland making a question of, and that he was commanded to yield to nothing to the prejudice of our religion, says the King of France, “You need not fear that, for if the Pope will not dispense with the match, my Bishop of Paris shall.” By and by come in great Mr. Swinfen,1590 the Parliament-man, who, among other discourse of the rise and fall of families, told us of Bishop Bridgeman1591 (brother of Sir Orlando) who lately hath bought a seat anciently of the Levers, and then the Ashtons; and so he hath in his great hall window (having repaired and beautified the house) caused four great places to be left for coates of armes. In one, he hath put the Levers, with this motto, “Olim.” In another the Ashtons, with this, “Heri.” In the next his own, with this, “Hodie.” In the fourth nothing but this motto, “Cras nescio cujus.” Thence towards my brother’s; met with Jack Cole in Fleet Street, and he and I went into his cousin Mary Cole’s (whom I never saw since she was married), and drank a pint of wine and much good discourse. I found him a little conceited, but he had good things in him, and a man may know the temper of the City by him, he being of a general conversation, and can tell how matters go; and upon that score I will encourage his acquaintance. Thence to my brother’s, and taking my wife up, carried her to Charing Cross, and there showed her the Italian motion, much after the nature of what I showed her a while since in Covent Garden. Their puppets here are somewhat better, but their motions not at all. Thence by coach to my Lady’s, and, hiding my wife with Sarah below, I went up and heard some music with my Lord, and afterwards discoursed with him alone, and so good night to him and below, having sent for Mr. Creed, had thought to have shown my wife a play before the King, but it is so late that we could not, and so we took coach, and taking up Sarah at my brother’s with their night geare we went home, and I to my office to settle matters, and so home and to bed. This morning in the Duke’s chamber Sir J. Minnes did break to me his desire about my chamber, which I did put off to another time to discourse of, he speaking to me very kindly to make me the less trouble myself, hoping to save myself and to contrive something or other to pleasure him as well, though I know not well what. The town, I hear, is full of discontents, and all know of the King’s new bastard by Mrs. Haslerigge,1592 and as far as I can hear will never be contented with Episcopacy, they are so cruelly set for Presbytery, and the Bishops carry themselves so high, that they are never likely to gain anything upon them.
. All the morning sitting at the office, and then to dinner with my wife, and so to the office again (where a good while Mr. Bland was with me, telling me very fine things in merchandise, which, but that the trouble of my office do so cruelly hinder me, I would take some pains in) till late at night. Towards the evening I, as I have done for three or four nights, studying something of Arithmetic, which do please me well to see myself come forward. So home, to supper, and to bed.
. At my office most of the morning, after I had done among my painters, and sent away Mr. Shaw and Hawly, who came to give me a visit this morning. Shaw it seems is newly remarried to a rich widow. At noon dined at home with my wife, and by and by, by my wife’s appointment came two young ladies, sisters,1593 acquaintances of my wife’s brother’s, who are desirous to wait upon some ladies, and proffer their service to my wife. The youngest, indeed, hath a good voice, and sings very well, besides other good qualities; but I fear hath been bred up with too great liberty for my family, and I fear greater inconveniences of expenses, and my wife’s liberty will follow, which I must study to avoid till I have a better purse; though, I confess, the gentlewoman, being pretty handsome, and singing, makes me have a good mind to her. Anon I took them by coach and carried them to a friend’s of theirs, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and there I left them and I to the Temple by appointment to my cousin Roger’s chamber, where my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas met us, I having hoped that they would have agreed with me to have had [it] ended by my cousin Roger, but they will have two strangers to be for them against two others of mine, and so we parted without doing anything till the two send me the names of their arbiters. Thence I walked home, calling a little in Paul’s Churchyard, and, I thank God, can read and never buy a book, though I have a great mind to it. So to the Dolphin Tavern near home, by appointment, and there met with Wade and Evett, and have resolved to make a new attempt upon another discovery, in which God give us better fortune than in the other, but I have great confidence that there is no cheat in these people, but that they go upon good grounds, though they have been mistaken in the place of the first. From thence, without drinking a drop of wine, home to my office and there made an end, though late, of my collection of the prices of masts for these twelve years to this day, in order to the buying of some of Wood, and I bound it up in painted paper to lie by as a book for future use. So home and to supper and to bed, and a little before and after we were in bed we had much talk and difference between us about my wife’s having a woman, which I seemed much angry at, that she should go so far in it without consideration and my being consulted with. So to bed.
. Up and began our discontent again and sorely angered my wife, who indeed do live very lonely, but I do perceive that it is want of work that do make her and all other people think of ways of spending their time worse, and this I owe to my building, that do not admit of her undertaking anything of work, because the house has been and is still so dirty. I to my office, and there sat all the morning and dined with discontent with my wife at noon, and so to my office, and there this afternoon we had our first meeting upon our commission of inspecting the Chest,1594 and there met Sir J. Minnes, Sir Francis Clerke,1595 Mr. Heath, Attorney of the Dutchy, Mr. Prinn, Sir W. Rider, Captn. Cocke, and myself. Our first work to read over the Institution, which is a decree in Chancery in the year 1617, upon an inquisition made at Rochester about that time into the revenues of the Chest, which had then, from the year 1588 or 1590, by the advice of the Lord High Admiral and principal officers then being, by consent of the seamen, been settled, paying sixpence per month, according to their wages then, which was then but 10s. which is now 24s. We adjourned to a fortnight hence. So broke up, and I to see Sir W. Penn, who is now pretty well, but lies in bed still; he cannot rise to stand. Then to my office late, and this afternoon my wife in her discontent sent me a letter, which I am in a quandary what to do, whether to read it or not, but I purpose not, but to burn it before her face, that I may put a stop to more of this nature. But I must think of some way, either to find her somebody to keep her company, or to set her to work, and by employment to take up her thoughts and time. After doing what I had to do I went home to supper, and there was very sullen to my wife, and so went to bed and to sleep (though with much ado, my mind being troubled) without speaking one word to her.
. She begun to talk in the morning and to be friends, believing all this while that I had read her letter, which I perceive by her discourse was full of good counsel, and relating the reason of her desiring a woman, and how little charge she did intend it to be to me, so I begun and argued it as full and plain to her, and she to reason it highly to me, to put her away, and take one of the Bowyers if I did dislike her, that I did resolve when the house is ready she shall try her for a while; the truth is, I having a mind to have her come for her music and dancing. So up and about my papers all the morning, and her brother coming I did tell him my mind plain, who did assure me that they were both of the sisters very humble and very poor, and that she that we are to have would carry herself so. So I was well contented and spent part of the morning at my office, and so home and to dinner, and after dinner, finding Sarah to be discontented at the news of this woman, I did begin in my wife’s chamber to talk to her and tell her that it was not out of unkindness to her, but my wife came up, and I perceive she is not too reconciled to her whatever the matter is, that I perceive I shall not be able to keep her, though she is as good a servant (only a little pettish) that ever I desire to have, and a creditable servant. So she desired leave to go out to look [for] a service, and did, for which I am troubled, and fell out highly afterwards with my wife about it. So to my office, where we met this afternoon about answering a great letter of my Lord Treasurer’s, and that done to my office drawing up a letter to him, and so home to supper.
. All the morning at the office sitting, dined with my wife pleasantly at home, then among my painters, and by and by went to my Civil Lawyers about my uncle’s suit, and so home again and saw my painters make an end of my house this night, which is my great joy, and so to my office and did business till ten at night, and so home and to supper, and after reading part of Bussy d’Ambois,1596 a good play I bought today, to bed.
. About 3 o’clock in the morning waked with a rude noise among Sir J. Minnes his servants (he not being yet come to his lodgings), who are the rudest people but they that lived before, one Mrs. Davis, that ever I knew in my life. To sleep again, and after long talking pleasantly with my wife, up and to church, where Mrs. Goodyer, now Mrs. Buckworth, was churched. I love the woman for her gravity above any in the parish. So home and to dinner with my wife with great content, and after dinner walked up and down my house, which is now almost finished, there being nothing to do but the glazier and furniture to put up. By and by comes Tom, and after a little talk I with him towards his end, but seeing many strangers and coaches coming to our church, and finding that it was a sermon to be preached by a probationer for the Turkey Company1597 to be sent to Smyrna, I returned thither. And several Turkey merchants filled all the best pews (and some in ours) in the Church, but a most pitiful sermon it was upon a text in Zachariah, and a great time he spent to show whose son Zachary was, and to prove Malachi to be the last prophet before John the Baptist. Home and to see Sir W. Penn, who gets strength, but still keeps his bed. Then home and to my office to do some business there, and so home to supper and to bed.
. To the Duke’s today, but he is gone a-hunting, and therefore I to my Lord Sandwich’s, and having spoke a little with him about his businesses, I to Westminster Hall and there stayed long doing many businesses, and so home by the Temple and other places doing the like, and at home I found my wife dressing by appointment by her woman1598 that I think is to be, and her other sister being here today with her and my wife’s brother, I took Mr. Creed, that came to dine, to an ordinary behind the ’Change, and there dined together, and after dinner home and there spent an hour or two till almost dark, talking with my wife, and making Mrs. Gosnell sing; and then, there being no coach to be got, by water to Whitehall; but Gosnell not being willing to go through bridge, we were forced to land and take water, again, and put her and her sister ashore at the Temple. I am mightily pleased with her humour and singing. At Whitehall by appointment, Mr. Creed carried my wife and I to the Cockpit,1599 and we had excellent places, and saw the King, Queen, Duke of Monmouth,1600 his son, and my Lady Castlemaine, and all the fine ladies; and The Scornful Lady, well performed. They had done by eleven o’clock, and it being fine moonshine, we took coach and home, but could wake nobody at my house, and so were fain to have my boy get through one of the windows, and so opened the door and called up the maids, and went to supper and to bed, my mind being troubled at what my wife tells me, that her woman will not come till she hears from her mother, for I am so fond of her that I am loth now not to have her, though I know it will be a great charge to me which I ought to avoid, and so will make it up in other things. So to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Mr. Phillip the lawyer came to me, but I put him off to the afternoon. At noon I dined at Sir W. Batten’s, Sir John Minnes being here, and he and I very kind, but I every day expect to pull a crow with him about our lodgings. My mind troubled about Gosnell and my law businesses. So after dinner to Mr. Phillips his chamber, where he demands an abatement for Piggott’s money, which vexes me also, but I will not give it him without my father’s consent, which I will write to him tonight about, and have done it. Here meeting my uncle Thomas, he and I to my cousin Roger’s chamber, and there I did give my uncle him and Mr. Philips to be my two arbiters against Mr. Cole and Punt, but I expect no great good of the matter. Thence walked home, and my wife came home, having been abroad today, laying out above £12 in linen, and a copper, and a pot, and bedstead, and other household stuff, which troubles me also, so that my mind tonight is very heavy and divided. Late at my office, drawing up a letter to my Lord Treasurer, which we have been long about, and so home, and, my mind troubled, to bed.
. All the morning sitting at the office, at noon with Mr. Coventry to the Temple to advise about Field’s, but our lawyers not being in the way we went to St. James’s, and there at his chamber dined, and I am still in love more and more with him for his real worth. I broke to him my desire for my wife’s brother to send him to sea as a midshipman, which he is willing to agree to, and will do it when I desire it. After dinner to the Temple, to Mr. Thurland;1601 and thence to my Lord Chief Baron, Sir Edward Hale’s,1602 and back with Mr. Thurland to his chamber, where he told us that Field will have the better of us; and that we must study to make up the business as well as we can, which do much vex and trouble us: but I am glad the Duke is concerned in it. Thence by coach homewards, calling at a tavern in the way (being guided by the messenger in whose custody Field lies), and spoke with Mr. Smith our messenger about the business, and so home, where I found that my wife had finished very neatly my study with the former hangings of the dining room, which will upon occasion serve for a fine withdrawing room. So a little to my office and so home, and spent the evening upon my house, and so to supper and to bed.
. Within all day long, helping to put up my hangings in my house in my wife’s chamber, to my great content. In the afternoon I went to speak to Sir J. Minnes at his lodgings, where I found many great ladies, and his lodgings made very fine indeed. At night to supper and to bed: this night having first put up a spitting sheet, which I find very convenient. This day come the King’s pleasure-boats from Calais, with the Dunkirk money, being 400,000 pistolles.
. This morning, from some difference between my wife and Sarah, her maid, my wife and I fell out cruelly, to my great discontent. But I do see her set so against the wench, whom I take to be a most extraordinary good servant, that I was forced for the wench’s sake to bid her get her another place, which shall cost some trouble to my wife, however, before I suffer to be. Thence to the office, where I sat all the morning, then dined; Mr. Moore with me, at home, my wife busy putting her furniture in order. Then he and I out, and he home and I to my cousin Roger Pepys to advise about treating with my uncle Thomas, and thence called at the Wardrobe on Mr. Moore again, and so home, and after doing much business at my office I went home and caused a new fashion knocker to be put on my door, and did other things to the putting my house in order, and getting my outward door painted, and the arch. This day I bought the book of country dances against my wife’s woman Gosnell comes, who dances finely; and there meeting Mr. Playford he did give me his Latin songs of Mr. Deering’s,1603 which he lately printed. This day Mr. Moore told me that for certain the Queen-Mother is married to my Lord St. Albans, and he is like to be made Lord Treasurer. News that Sir J. Lawson hath made up a peace now with Tunis and Tripoli, as well as Argiers, by which he will come home very highly honoured.
. Up, after some talk with my wife, soberly, upon yesterday’s difference, and made good friends, and to church to hear Mr. Mills, and so home, and Mr. Moore and my brother Tom dined with me. My wife not being well today did not rise. In the afternoon to church again, and heard drowsy Mr. Graves, and so to see Sir W. Penn, who continues ill in bed, but grows better and better every day. Thence to Sir W. Batten’s, and there stayed awhile and heard how Sir R. Ford’s daughter is married to a fellow without friends’ consent, and the match carried on and made up at Will Griffin’s, our doorkeeper’s. So to my office and did a little business, and so home and to bed. I talked to my brother today, who desires me to give him leave to look after his mistress still; and he will not have me put to any trouble or obligation in it, which I did give him leave to do. I hear today how old rich Audley1604 is lately dead, and left a very great estate, and made a great many poor families rich, not all to one. Among others, one Davis,1605 my old schoolfellow at Paul’s, and since a bookseller in Paul’s Church Yard: and it seems do forgive one man £60,000 which he had wronged him of, but names not his name; but it is well known to be the scrivener in Fleet Street, at whose house he lodged. There is also this week dead a poulterer, in Gracious Street,1606 which was thought rich, but not so rich, that hath left £800 per annum, taken in other men’s names, and 40,000 Jacobs in gold.1607
. Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and I, going forth toward Whitehall, we hear that the King and Duke are come this morning to the Tower to see the Dunkirk money.1608 So we by coach to them, and there went up and down all the magazines with them; but methought it was but poor discourse and frothy that the King’s companions (young Killigrew among the rest) about the codpieces of some of the men in armour there to be seen, had with him. We saw none of the money, but Mr. Slingsby1609 did show the King, and I did see, the stamps of the new money that is now to be made by Blondeau’s fashion,1610 which are very neat, and like the King. Thence the King to Woolwich, though a very cold day; and the Duke to Whitehall, commanding us to come after him, which we did by coach; and in his closet, my Lord Sandwich being there, did discourse with us about getting some of this money to pay off the Fleets, and other matters; and then away hence, and, it being almost dinner time, I to my Lord Crew’s, and dined with him, and had very good discourse, and he seemed to be much pleased with my visits. Thence to Mr. Phillips, and so to the Temple, where met my cousin Roger Pepys and his brother, Dr. John, as my arbitrators against Mr. Cole and Mr. John Bernard for my uncle Thomas, and we two with them by appointment. They began very high in their demands, and my friends, partly being not so well acquainted with the will, and partly, I doubt, not being so good wits as they, for which I blame my choosing of relations (who besides that are equally engaged to stand for them as me), I was much troubled thereat, and taking occasion to deny without my father’s consent to bind myself in a bond of £2,000 to stand to their award, I broke off the business for the present till I hear and consider further, and so thence by coach (my cousin, Thomas Pepys, being in another chamber busy all the while, going along with me) homeward, and I set him down by the way; but, Lord! how he did endeavour to find out a ninepence to clubb with me for the coach, and for want was forced to give me a shilling, and how he still cries “Gad!” and talks of Popery coming in, as all the Fanatics do, of which I was ashamed. So home, finding my poor wife very busy putting things in order, and so to bed, my mind being very much troubled, and could hardly sleep all night, thinking how things are like to go with us about Brampton, and blaming myself for living so high as I do when for ought I know my father and mother may come to live upon my hands when all is done.
. Up and to the office all the morning, and at noon with the rest, by Mr. Holy, the ironmonger’s invitation, to the Dolphin, to a venison pasty, very good, and rare at this time of the year, and thence by coach with Mr. Coventry as far as the Temple, and thence to Greatorex’s, where I stayed and talked with him, and got him to mend my pocket ruler for me, and so by coach to my Lord’s lodging, where I sat with Mr. Moore by appointment, making up accounts for my Lord Sandwich, which done he and I and Capt. Ferrers and W. Howe very merry a good while in the great dining room, and so it being late and my Lord not coming in, I by coach to the Temple, and thence walked home, and so to my study to do some business, and then home and to bed. Great talk among people how some of the Fanatics do say that the end of the world is at hand, and that next Tuesday is to be the day. Against which, whenever it shall be, good God fit us all.
. In the morning to the Temple to my cousin Roger, who now desires that I would excuse him from arbitrating, he not being able to stand for me as he would do, without appearing too high against my uncle Thomas, which will raise his clamour. With this I am very well pleased, for I did desire it, and so I shall choose other counsel. Thence home, he being busy that I could not speak more with him. All day long till twelve o’clock at night getting my house in order, my wife putting up the red hangings and bed in her woman’s chamber, and I my books and all other matters in my chamber and study, which is now very pretty. So to bed.
. At my waking, I found the tops of the houses covered with snow, which is a rare sight, that I have not seen these three years. Up, and put my people to perfect the cleaning of my house, and so to the office, where we sat till noon; and then we all went to the next house upon Tower Hill, to see the coming by of the Russia Embassador; for whose reception all the City trained-bands do attend in the streets, and the King’s life-guards, and most of the wealthy citizens in their black velvet coats, and gold chains (which remain of their gallantry at the King’s coming in), but they stayed so long that we went down again home to dinner. And after I had dined, I heard they were coming, and so I walked to the Conduit in the Quarrefowr,1611 at the end of Gracious-street and Cornhill; and there (the spouts thereof running very near me upon all the people that were under it) I saw them pretty well go by. I could not see the Embassador in his coach; but his attendants in their habits and fur caps very handsome, comely men, and most of them with hawkes upon their fists to present to the King. But Lord! to see the absurd nature of Englishmen, that cannot forbear laughing and jeering at everything that looks strange. So back and to the office, and there we met and sat till seven o’clock, making a bargain with Mr. Wood for his masts of New England; and then in Mr. Coventry’s coach to the Temple, but my cousin Roger Pepys not being at leisure to speak to me about my business, I presently walked home, and to my office till very late doing business, and so home, where I found my house more and more clear and in order, and hope in a day or two now to be in very good condition there and to my full content. Which God grant! So to supper and to bed.
. A very hard frost; which is news to us after having none almost these three years. Up and to Ironmongers’ Hall1612 by ten o’clock to the funeral of Sir Richard Stayner.1613 Here we were, all the officers of the Navy, and my Lord Sandwich, who did discourse with us about the fishery, telling us of his Majesty’s resolution to give £200 to every man that will set out a Busse;1614 and advising about the effects of this encouragement, which will be a very great matter certainly. Here we had good rings, and by and by were to take coach; and I being got in with Mr. Creed into a four-horse coach, which they come and told us were only for the mourners, I went out, and so took this occasion to go home. Where I stayed all day expecting Gosnell’s coming, but there came an excuse from her that she had not heard yet from her mother, but that she will come next week, which I wish she may, since I must keep one that I may have some pleasure therein. So to my office till late writing out a copy of my uncle’s will, and so home and to bed.
. Before I went to the office my wife’s brother did come to us, and we did instruct him to go to Gosnell’s and to see what the true matter is of her not coming, and whether she do intend to come or no, and so I to the office; and this morning come Sir G. Carteret to us (being the first time we have seen him since his coming from France): he tells us, that the silver which he received for Dunkirk did weigh 120,000 weight. Here all the morning upon business, and at noon (not going home to dinner, though word was brought me that Will. Joyce was there, whom I had not seen at my house nor anywhere else these three or four months) with Mr. Coventry by his coach as far as Fleet Street, and there stepped into Madam Turner’s, where was told I should find my cousin Roger Pepys, and with him to the Temple, but not having time to do anything I went towards my Lord Sandwich’s. (In my way went into Captn. Cuttance’s coach, and with him to my Lord’s.) But the company not being ready I did slip down to Wilkinson’s, and having not eat anything today did eat a mutton pie and drank, and so to my Lord’s, where my Lord and Mr. Coventry, Sir Wm. Darcy,1615 one Mr. Parham (a very knowing and well-spoken man in this business), with several others, did meet about stating the business of the fishery, and the manner of the King’s giving of this £200 to every man that shall set out a new-made English Busse by the middle of June next. In which business we had many fine pretty discourses; and I did here see the great pleasure to be had in discoursing of public matters with men that are particularly acquainted with this or that business. Having come to some issue, wherein a motion of mine was well received, about sending these invitations from the King to all the fishing-ports in general, with limiting so many Busses to this, and that port, before we know the readiness of subscribers, we parted, and I walked home all the way, and having wrote a letter full of business to my father, in my way calling upon my cousin Turner and Mr. Calthrop at the Temple, for their consent to be my arbitrators, which they are willing to. My wife and I to bed pretty pleasant, for that her brother brings word that Gosnell, which my wife and I in discourse do pleasantly call our Marmotte, will certainly come next week without fail, which God grant may be for the best.
. To church in the morning, and Mr. Mills made a pretty good sermon. It is a bitter cold frost today. Dined alone with my wife today with great content, my house being quite clean from top to bottom. In the afternoon I to the French church here1616 in the city, and stood in the aisle all the sermon, with great delight hearing a very admirable sermon, from a very young man, upon the article in our creed, in order of catechism, upon the Resurrection. Thence home, and to visit Sir W. Penn, who continues still bed-rid. Here was Sir W. Batten and his Lady, and Mrs. Turner, and I very merry, talking of the confidence of Sir R. Ford’s new-married daughter, though she married so strangely lately, yet appears at church as brisk as can be, and takes place of her elder sister, a maid. Thence home and to supper, and then, cold as it is, to my office, to make up my monthly accounts, and I do find that, through the fitting of my house this month, I have spent in that and kitchen £50 this month; so that now I am worth but £660, or thereabouts. This being done and fitted myself for the Duke tomorrow, I went home, and to prayers and to bed. This day I first did wear a muffe, being my wife’s last year’s muffe,1617 and now I have bought her a new one, this serves me very well. Thus ends this month; in great frost; myself and family all well, but my mind much disordered about my uncle’s law business, being now in an order of being arbitrated between us, which I wish to God it were done. I am also somewhat uncertain what to think of my going about to take a woman-servant into my house, in the quality of a woman for my wife. My wife promises it shall cost me nothing but her meat and wages, and that it shall not be attended with any other expenses, upon which termes I admit of it; for that it will, I hope, save me money in having my wife go abroad on visits and other delights; so that I hope the best, but am resolved to alter it, if matters prove otherwise than I would have them. Public matters in an ill condition of discontent against the height and vanity of the Court, and their bad payments: but that which troubles most, is the Clergy, which will never content the City, which is not to be reconciled to Bishops: the more the pity that differences must still be. Dunkirk newly sold, and the money brought over; of which we hope to get some to pay the Navy: which by Sir J. Lawson’s having dispatched the business in the Straights, by making peace with Argier,1618 Tunis, and Tripoli (and so his fleet will also shortly come home), will now every day grow less, and so the King’s charge be abated; which God send!
December 1662
. Up and by coach with Sir John Minnes and Sir W. Batten to Whitehall to the Duke’s chamber, where, as is usual, my Lord Sandwich and all of us, after his being ready, to his closet, and there discoursed of matters of the Navy, and here Mr. Coventry did do me the great kindness to take notice to the Duke of my pains in making a collection of all contracts about masts, which have been of great use to us. Thence I to my Lord Sandwich’s, to Mr. Moore, to talk a little about business; and then over the Park (where I first in my life, it being a great frost, did see people sliding with their skates,1619 which is a very pretty art), to Mr. Coventry’s chamber to St. James’s, where we all met to a venison pasty, and were very merry, Major Norwood being with us, whom they did play upon for his surrendering of Dunkirk. Here we stayed till three or four o’clock; and so to the Council Chamber, where there met the Duke of York, Prince Rupert, Duke of Albemarle, my Lord Sandwich, Sir Wm. Compton, Mr. Coventry, Sir J. Minnes, Sir R. Ford, Sir W. Rider, myself, and Captain Cuttance, as Commissioners for Tangier.1620 And after our Commission was read by Mr. Creed, who I perceive is to be our Secretary, we did fall to discourse of matters: as, first, the supplying them forthwith with victuals; then the reducing it to make way for the money, which upon their reduction is to go to the building of the Mole; and so to other matters, ordered as against next meeting. This done we broke up, and I to the Cockpit, with much crowding and waiting, where I saw The Valiant Cidd1621 acted, a play I have read with great delight, but is a most dull thing acted, which I never understood before, there being no pleasure in it, though done by Betterton and by Ianthe,1622 and another fine wench that is come in the room of Roxalana;1623 nor did the King or Queen once smile all the whole play, nor any of the company seem to take any pleasure but what was in the greatness and gallantry of the company. Thence to my Lord’s, and Mr. Moore being in bed I stayed not, but with a link walked home and got thither by 12 o’clock, knocked up my boy, and put myself to bed.
. Before I went to the office my wife and I had another falling out about Sarah,1624 against whom she has a deadly hate, I know not for what, nor can I see but she is a very good servant. Then to my office, and there sat all the morning, and then to dinner with my wife at home, and after dinner did give Jane1625 a very serious lesson, against we take her to be our chambermaid, which I spoke so to her that the poor girl cried and did promise to be very dutiful and careful. So to the office, where we sat as Commissioners for the Chest, and so examined most of the old accountants to the Chest about it, and so we broke up, and I to my office till late preparing business, and so home, being cold, and this night first put on a waistcoat. So to bed.
. Called up by Commissioner Pett, and with him by water, much against my will, to Deptford, and after drinking a warm morning draught, with Mr. Wood and our officers measuring all the morning his New England masts, with which sight I was much pleased for my information, though I perceive great neglect and indifference in all the King’s officers in what they do for the King. That done, to the Globe, and there dined with Mr. Wood, and so by water with Mr. Pett home again, all the way reading his Chest accounts, in which I did see things did not please me; as his allowing himself £300 for one year’s looking to the business of the Chest, and £150 per annum for the rest of the years. But I found no fault to him himself, but shall when they come to be read at the Board. We did also call at Limehouse to view two Busses that are building, that being a thing we are now very hot upon. Our call was to see what dimensions they are of, being 50 feet by the keel and about 60 tons. Home and did a little business, and so taking Mr. Pett by the way, we walked to the Temple, in our way seeing one of the Russia Embassador’s coaches go along, with his footmen not in liveries, but their country habits; one of one colour and another of another, which was very strange. At the Temple spoke with Mr. Turner and Calthrop, and so walked home again, being in some pain through the cold which I have got today by water, which troubles me. At the office doing business a good while, and so home and had a posset, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning setting about business, and after dinner to it again, and so till night, and then home looking over my Brampton papers against tomorrow that we are to meet with our counsel on both sides toward an arbitration, upon which I was very late, and so to bed.
. Up, it being a snow and hard frost, and being up I did call up Sarah, who do go away today or tomorrow. I paid her her wages, and gave her 10s. myself, and my wife 5s. to give her. For my part I think never servant and mistress parted upon such foolish terms in the world as they do, only for an opinion in my wife that she is ill-natured, in all other things being a good servant. The wench cried, and I was ready to cry too, but to keep peace I am content she should go, and the rather, though I say nothing of that, that Jane may come into her place. This being done, I walked towards Guildhall, thither being summoned by the Commissioners for the Lieutenancy; but they sat not this morning. So meeting in my way W. Swan, I took him to a house thereabouts, and gave him a morning draught of buttered ale;1626 he telling me still much of his Fanatic stories, as if he were a great zealot, when I know him to be a very rogue. But I do it for discourse, and to see how things stand with him and his party; who I perceive have great expectation that God will not bless the Court nor Church, as it is now settled, but they must be purified. The worst news he tells me, is that Mr. Chetwind is dead, my old and most ingenious acquaintance. He is dead, worth £3,000, which I did not expect, he living so high as he did always and neatly. He hath given W. Symons his wife £300, and made Will one of his executors. Thence to the Temple to my counsel, and thence to Gray’s Inn to meet with Mr. Cole but could not, and so took a turn or two in the garden, being very pleasant with the snow and frost. Thence to my brother’s, and there I eat something at dinner and transcribed a copy or two of the state of my uncle’s estate, which I prepared last night, and so to the Temple Church, and there walked alone till 4 or 5 o’clock, and then to my cousin Turner’s chamber and stayed there, up and down from his to Calthrop’s and Bernard’s chambers, till so late, that Mr. Cole not coming, we broke up for meeting this night, and so taking my uncle Thomas homewards with me by coach, talking of our desire to have a peace, and set him down at Gracious-street end, and so home, and there I find Gosnell come, who, my wife tells me, is like to prove a pretty companion, of which I am glad. So to my office for a little business and then home, my mind having been all this day in most extraordinary trouble and care for my father, there being so great an appearance of my uncle’s going away with the greatest part of the estate, but in the evening by Gosnell’s coming I do put off these thoughts to entertain myself with my wife and her, who sings exceeding well, and I shall take great delight in her, and so merrily to bed.
. Up and to the office, and there sat all the morning, Mr. Coventry and I alone, the rest being paying off of ships. Dined at home with my wife and Gosnell, my mind much pleased with her, and after dinner sat with them a good while, till my wife seemed to take notice of my being at home now more than at other times. I went to the office, and there I sat till late, doing of business, and at 9 o’clock walked to Mr. Rawlinson’s, thinking to meet my uncle Wight there, where he was, but a great deal of his wife’s kindred-women and I knew not whom (which Mr. Rawlinson did seem to me to take much notice of his being led by the nose by his wife), I went away to my office again, and doing my business there, I went home, and after a song by Gosnell we to bed.
. A great snow, and so to church this morning with my wife, which is the first time she hath been at church since her going to Brampton, and Gosnell attending her, which was very graceful. So home, and we dined above in our dining room, the first time since it was new done, and in the afternoon I thought to go to the French church; but finding the Dutch congregation there, and then finding the French congregation’s sermon begun in the Dutch, I returned home, and up to our gallery, where I found my wife and Gosnell, and after a drowsy sermon, we all three to my aunt Wight’s, where great store of her usuall company, and here we stayed a pretty while talking, I differing from my aunt, as I commonly do, in our opinion of the handsomeness of the Queen, which I oppose mightily, saying that if my nose be handsome, then is hers, and suchlike. After much discourse, seeing the room full, and being unwilling to stay all three, I took leave, and so with my wife only to see Sir W. Penn, who is now got out of his bed, and sits by the fireside. And after some talk, home and to supper, and after prayers to bed. This night came in my wife’s brother and talked to my wife and Gosnell about his wife, which they told me afterwards of, and I do smell that he I doubt is overreached in thinking that he has got a rich wife,1627 and I fear she will prove otherwise. So to bed.
. Up, and carrying Gosnell by coach, set her down at Temple Barr, she going about business of hers today. By the way she was telling me how Balty did tell her that my wife did go every day in the week to Court and plays, and that she should have liberty of going abroad as often as she pleased, and many other lies, which I am vexed at, and I doubt the wench did come in some expectation of, which troubles me. So to the Duke and Mr. Coventry, and alone, the rest being at a Pay and elsewhere, and alone with Mr. Coventry I did read over our letter to my Lord Treasurer, which I think now is done as well as it can be. Then to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there spent the rest of the morning in making up my Lord’s accounts with Mr. Moore, and then dined with Mr. Moore and Battersby his friend, very well and merry, and good discourse. Then into the Park, to see them slide with their skates, which is very pretty. And so to the Duke’s, where the Committee for Tangier met: and here we sat down all with him at a table, and had much good discourse about the business, and is to my great content. That done, I hearing what play it was that is to be acted before the King tonight, I would not stay, but home by coach, where I find my wife troubled about Gosnell, who brings word that her uncle, justice Jiggins, requires her to come three times a week to him, to follow some business that her mother entrusts her withall, and that, unless she may have that leisure given her, he will not have her take any place; for which we are both troubled, but there is no help for it, and believing it to be a good providence of God to prevent my running behindhand in the world, I am somewhat contented therewith, and shall make my wife so, who, poor wretch, I know will consider of things, though in good earnest the privacy of her life must needs be irksome to her. So I made Gosnell and we sit up looking over the book of Dances till 12 at night, not observing how the time went, and so to prayers and to bed.
. Lay long with my wife, contenting her about the business of Gosnell’s going, and I perceive she will be contented as well as myself, and so to the office, and after sitting all the morning in hopes to have Mr. Coventry dine with me, he was forced to go to Whitehall, and so I dined with my own company only, taking Mr. Hater home with me, but he, poor man, was not very well, and so could not eat anything. After dinner stayed within all the afternoon, being vexed in my mind about the going away of Sarah this afternoon, who cried mightily, and so was I ready to do, and Jane did also, and then anon went Gosnell away, which did trouble me too; though upon many considerations, it is better that I am rid of the charge. All together makes my house appear to me very lonely, which troubles me much, and in a melancholy humour I went to the office, and there about business sat till I was called to Sir G. Carteret at the Treasury office about my Lord Treasurer’s letter, wherein he puts me to a new trouble to write it over again. So home and late with Sir John Minnes at the office looking over Mr. Creed’s accounts, and then home and to supper, and my wife and I melancholy to bed.
. This morning rose, receiving a messenger from Sir G. Carteret and a letter from Mr. Coventry, one contrary to another, about our letter to my Lord Treasurer, at which I am troubled, but I went to Sir George, and being desirous to please both, I think I have found out a way to do it. So back to the office with Sir J. Minnes, in his coach, but so great a snow that we could hardly pass the streets. So we and Sir W. Batten to the office, and there did discourse of Mr. Creed’s accounts, and I fear it will be a good while before we shall go through them, and many things we meet with, all of difficulty. Then to the Dolphin, where Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and I, did treat the Auditors of the Exchequer, Auditors Wood and Beale, and hither come Sir G. Carteret to us. We had a good dinner, cost us £5 and 6s., whereof my share 26s., and after dinner did discourse of our salaries and other matters, which I think now they will allow. Thence home, and there I found our new cook-maid Susan come, who is recommended to us by my wife’s brother, for which I like her never the better, but being a good well-looked lass, I am willing to try, and Jane begins to take upon her as a chamber-maid. So to the office, where late putting papers and my books and businesses in order, it being very cold, and so home to supper.
. Up, it being a great frost upon the snow, and we sat all the morning upon Mr. Creed’s accounts, wherein I did him some service and some disservice. At noon he dined with me, and we sat all the afternoon together, discoursing of ways to get money, which I am now giving myself wholly up to, and in the evening he went away and I to my office, concluding all matters concerning our great letter so long in doing to my Lord Treasurer, till almost one in the morning, and then home with my mind much eased, and so to bed.
. From a very hard frost, when I wake, I find a very great thaw, and my house overflown with it, which vexed me. At the office and home, doing business all the morning. Then dined with my wife and sat talking with her all the afternoon, and then to the office, and there examining my copy of Mr. Holland’s book till 10 at night, and so home to supper and bed.
. Slept long today till Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten were set out towards Portsmouth before I rose, and Sir G. Carteret came to the office to speak with me before I was up. So I started up and down to him. By and by we sat, Mr. Coventry and I (Sir G. Carteret being gone), and among other things, Field and Stint did come, and received the £41 given him by the judgement against me and Harry Kem;1628 and we did also sign bonds in £500 to stand to the award of Mr. Porter and Smith for the rest: which, however, I did not sign to till I got Mr. Coventry to go up with me to Sir W. Penn; and he did promise me before him to bear his share in what should be awarded, and both concluded that Sir W. Batten would do no less. At noon broke up and dined with my wife, and then to the office again, and there made an end of last night’s examination, and got my study there made very clean and put in order, and then to write by the post, among other letters one to Sir W. Batten about this day’s work with Field, desiring his promise also. The letter I have caused to be entered in our public book of letters. So home to supper and to bed.
. Lay with great content talking with my wife in bed, and so up and to church and then home, and had a neat dinner by ourselves, and after dinner walked to Whitehall and my Lord’s, and up and down till chapel time, and then to the King’s chapel, where I heard the service, and so to my Lord’s, and there Mr. Howe and Pagett, the counsellor, an old lover of music. We sang some Psalms of Mr. Lawes,1629 and played some symphonies between till night, that I was sent for to Mr. Creed’s lodging, and there was Captain Ferrers and his lady and W. Howe and I; we supped very well and good sport in discourse. After supper I was sent for to my Lord, with whom I stayed talking about his, and my own, and the public affairs, with great content, he advising me as to my own choosing of Sir R. Bernard for umpire in the businesses between my uncle and us, that I would not trust to him upon his direction, for he did not think him a man to be trusted at all; and so bid him good night, and to Mr. Creed’s again; Mr. Moore, with whom I intended to have lain, lying physically without sheets; and there, after some discourse, to bed, and lay ill, though the bed good, my stomach being sicke all night with my too heavy supper.
. Up and to my Lord’s and thence to the Duke, and followed him into the Park, where, though the ice was broken and dangerous, yet he would go slide upon his skates, which I did not like, but he slides very well. So back and to his closet, whither my Lord Sandwich comes, and there Mr. Coventry and we three had long discourse together about the matters of the Navy; and, indeed, I find myself more and more obliged to Mr. Coventry, who studies to do me all the right he can in everything to the Duke. Thence walked a good while up and down the galleries; and among others, met with Dr. Clerke, who in discourse tells me, that Sir Charles Barkeley’s greatness is only his being pimp to the King, and to my Lady Castlemaine. And yet for all this, that the King is very kind to the Queen; who, he says, is one of the best women in the world. Strange how the King is bewitched to this pretty Castlemaine. Thence to my Lord’s, and there with Mr. Creed, Moore, and Howe to the Crown and dined, and thence to Whitehall, where I walked up and down the galleries, spending my time upon the pictures, till the Duke and the Committee for Tangier met (the Duke not staying with us), where the only matter was to discourse with my Lord Rutherford,1630 who is this day made Governor of Tangier, for I know not what reasons; and my Lord of Peterborough to be called home; which, though it is said it is done with kindness, yet all the world may see it is done otherwise, and I am sorry to see a Catholick Governor sent to command there, where all the rest of the officers almost are such already. But God knows what the reason is! and all may see how slippery places all courtiers stand in. Thence by coach home, in my way calling upon Sir John Berkenheade,1631 to speak about my assessment of £42 to the Loyal Sufferers; which, I perceive, I cannot help; but he tells me I have been abused by Sir R. Ford, which I shall hereafter make use of when it shall be fit. Thence called at the Major-General’s, Sir R. Browne, about my being assessed armes to the militia; but he was abroad; and so driving through the backside of the Shambles in Newgate Market, my coach plucked down two pieces of beef into the dirt, upon which the butchers stopped the horses, and a great rout of people in the street, crying that he had done him 40s and £5 worth of hurt; but going down, I saw that he had done little or none; and so I give them a shilling for it and they were well contented, and so home, and there to my Lady Batten’s to see her, who tells me she hath just now a letter from Sir William, how that he and Sir J. Minnes did very narrowly escape drowning on the road, the waters are so high; but is well. But, Lord! what a hypocrite-like face she made to tell it me. Thence to Sir W. Penn and sat long with him in discourse, I making myself appear one of greater action and resolution as to public business than I have hitherto done, at which he listens, but I know is a rogue in his heart and likes not, but I perceive I may hold up my head, and the more the better, I minding of my business as I have done, in which God do and will bless me. So home and with great content to bed, and talk and chat with my wife while I was at supper, to our great pleasure.
. Up and to the office, and thither came Mr. Coventry and Sir G. Carteret, and among other business was Strutt’s the purser, against Captn. Browne, Sir W. Batten’s brother-in-law, but, Lord! though I believe the Captain has played the knave, though I seem to have a good opinion of him and to mean him well, what a most troublesome fellow that Strutt is, such as I never did meet with his fellow in my life. His talking and ours to make him hold his peace set my head off aching all the afternoon with great pain. So to dinner, thinking to have had Mr. Coventry, but he could not go with me; and so I took Captn. Murford. Of whom I do hear what the world says of me; that all do conclude Mr. Coventry, and Pett, and me, to be of a knot; and that we do now carry all things before us; and much more in particular of me, and my studiousness, etc., to my great content. After dinner came Mrs. Browne, the Captain’s wife, to see me and my wife, and I showed her a good countenance, and indeed her husband has been civil to us, but though I speak them fair, yet I doubt I shall not be able to do her husband much favour in this business of Strutt’s, whom without doubt he has abused. So to the office, and hence, having done some business, by coach to Whitehall to Secretary Bennet’s, and agreed with Mr. Lee to set upon our new adventure at the Tower tomorrow. Hence to Col. Lovelace in Cannon Row about seeing how Sir R. Ford did report all the officers of the navy to be rated for the Loyal Sufferers, but finding him at the Rhenish wine-house I could not have any answer, but must take another time. Thence to my Lord’s, and having sat talking with Mr. Moore bewailing the vanity and disorders of the age, I went by coach to my brother’s, where I met Sarah, my late maid, who had a desire to speak with me, and I with her to know what it was, who told me out of good will to me, for she loves me dearly, that I would beware of my wife’s brother, for he is begging or borrowing of her and often, and told me of her Scallop whisk,1632 and her borrowing of 50s. for Will, which she believes was for him and her father. I do observe so much goodness and seriousness in the maid, that I am again and again sorry that I have parted with her, though it was full against my will then, and if she had anything in the world I would commend her for a wife for my brother Tom. After much discourse and her professions of love to me and all my relations, I bade her good night and did kiss her, and indeed she seemed very well-favoured to me tonight, as she is always. So by coach home and to my office, did some business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. This morning come Mr. Lee, Wade, and Evett, intending to have gone upon our new design to the Tower today; but it raining, and the work being to be done in the open garden, we put it off to Friday next. And so I to the office doing business, and then dined at home with my poor wife with great content, and so to the office again and made an end of examining the other of Mr. Holland’s books about the Navy, with which I am much contented, and so to other businesses till night at my office, and so home to supper, and after much dear company and talk with my wife, to bed.
. Up and to the office, Mr. Coventry and I alone sat till two o’clock, and then he inviting himself to my house to dinner, of which I was proud; but my dinner being a leg of mutton and two capons, they were not done enough, which did vex me; but we made shift to please him, I think; but I was, when he was gone, very angry with my wife and people. This afternoon came my wife’s brother and his wife, and Mrs. Lodum his landlady (my old friend Mr. Ashwell’s sister), Balty’s wife is a most little and yet, I believe, pretty old girl, not handsome, nor has anything in the world pleasing, but, they say, she plays mighty well on the Base Violl. They dined at her father’s today, but for ought I hear he is a wise man, and will not give anything to his daughter till he sees what her husband do put himself to, so that I doubt he has made but a bad matter of it, but I am resolved not to meddle with it. They gone I to the office, and to see Sir W. Penn, with my wife, and thence I to Mr. Cade the stationer, to direct him what to do with my two copies of Mr. Holland’s books which he is to bind, and after supplying myself with several things of him, I returned to my office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by appointment with Mr. Lee, Wade, Evett, and workmen to the Tower, and with the Lieutenant’s leave set them to work in the garden, in the corner against the mainguard, a most unlikely place. It being cold, Mr. Lee and I did sit all the day till three o’clock by the fire in the Governor’s house; I reading a play of Fletcher’s, being A Wife for a Month,1633 wherein no great wit or language. Having done we went to them at work, and having wrought below the bottom of the foundation of the wall, I bid them give over, and so all our hopes ended; and so went home, taking Mr. Leigh with me, and after drunk a cup of wine he went away, and I to my office, there reading in Sir W. Petty’s book, and so home and to bed, a little displeased with my wife, who, poor wretch, is troubled with her lonely life, which I know not how without great charge to help as yet, but I will study how to do it.
. Up and had £100 brought me by Prior of Brampton in full of his purchase money for Barton’s house and some land. So to the office, and thence with Mr. Coventry in his coach to St. James’s, with great content and pride to see him treat me so friendly; and dined with him, and so to Whitehall together; where we met upon the Tangier Commission, and discoursed many things thereon; but little will be done before my Lord Rutherford comes there, as to the fortification or Mole. That done, my Lord Sandwich and I walked together a good while in the Matted Gallery, he acquainting me with his late enquiries into the Wardrobe business to his content; and tells me how things stand. And that the first year was worth about £3,000 to him, and the next about as much; so that at this day, if he were paid, it will be worth about £7,000 to him. But it contents me above all things to see him trust me as his confidant: so I bid him good night, he being to go into the country, to keep his Christmas, on Monday next. So by coach home and to my office, being post night, and then home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, so up to Church, and so home to dinner alone with my wife very pleasant. After dinner I walked to my brother’s, where he told me some hopes he had of bringing his business to pass still of his mistress, but I do find they do stand upon terms that will not be either fit or in his power to grant, and therefore I did dislike his talk and advised him to give it quite over. Thence walked to Whitehall, and there to chapel, and from thence upstairs, and up and down the house and galleries on the King’s and Queen’s side, and so through the garden to my Lord’s lodgings, where there was Mr. Gibbons,1634 Madge, and Mallard, and Pagett; and by and by comes in my Lord Sandwich, and so we had great store of good music. By and by comes in my simple Lord Chandois,1635 who (my Lord Sandwich being gone out to Court) began to sing psalms, but so dully that I was weary of it. At last we broke up; and by and by comes in my Lord Sandwich again, and he and I to talk together about his businesses, and so he to bed and I and Mr. Creed and Captain Ferrers fell to a cold goose pie of Mrs. Sarah’s, heartily, and so spent our time till past twelve o’clock, and then with Creed to his lodgings, and so with him to bed, and slept till …
… six or seven o’clock and so up, and by the fireside read a good part of The Advice to a Daughter, which a simple coxcomb has wrote against Osborne, but in all my life I never did nor can expect to see so much nonsense in print. Thence to my Lord’s, who is getting himself ready for his journey to Hinchingbroke. And by and by, after eating something, and talking with me about many things, and telling me his mind, upon my asking about Sarah (who, it seems, only married of late, but is also said to be turned a great drunkard, which I am ashamed of), that he likes her service well, and do not love a strange face, but will not endure the fault, but hath bade me speak to her and advise her if she hath a mind to stay with him, which I will do. My Lord and his people being gone, I walked to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, where I found him gone out into the Park with the Duke, so the boy being there ready with my things, I shifted myself into a riding-habit, and followed him through Whitehall, and in the Park Mr. Coventry’s people having a horse ready for me (so fine a one that I was almost afeard to get upon him, but I did, and found myself more feared than hurt) and I got up and followed the Duke, who, with some of his people (among others Mr. Coventry) was riding out. And with them to Hide Park. Where Mr. Coventry asking leave of the Duke, he bid us go to Woolwich. So he and I to the waterside, and our horses coming by the ferry, we by oars over to Lambeth, and from thence, with brave discourse by the way, rode to Woolwich, where we eat and drank at Mr. Pett’s, and discoursed of many businesses, and put in practice my new way of the Call-book, which will be of great use. Here, having stayed a good while, we got up again and brought night home with us and foul weather. So over to Whitehall to his chamber, whither my boy came, who had stayed in St. James’s Park by my mistake all day, looking for me. Thence took my things that I put off today, and by coach, being very wet and cold, on my feet home, and presently shifted myself, and so had the barber come; and my wife and I to read Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which I brought her home from Paul’s Churchyard tonight, having called for it by the way, and so to bed,
. And slept hard till 8 o’clock this morning, and so up and to the office, where I found Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten come unexpectedly home last night from Portsmouth, having done the Pay there before we could have thought it. Sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner with my wife alone, and after dinner sat by the fire, and then up to make up my accounts with her, and find that my ordinary housekeeping comes to £7 a month, which is a great deal. By and by comes Dr. Pierce, who among other things tells me that my Lady Castlemaine’s interest at Court increases, and is more and greater than the Queen’s; that she hath brought in Sir H. Bennet, and Sir Charles Barkeley; but that the queen is a most good lady, and takes all with the greatest meekness that may be. He tells me too that Mr. Edward Montagu is quite broke at Court with his repute and purse; and that he lately was engaged in a quarrell against my Lord Chesterfield: but that the King did cause it to be taken up. He tells me, too, that the King is much concerned in the Chancellor’s sickness, and that the Chancellor is as great, he thinks, as ever he was with the King. He also tells me what the world says of me, “that Mr. Coventry and I do all the business of the office almost:” at which I am highly proud. He being gone I fell to business, which was very great, but got it well over by nine at night, and so home, and after supper to bed.
. Lay pleasantly, talking to my wife, till 8 o’clock, then up and to Sir W. Batten’s to see him and Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes take coach towards the Pay at Chatham, which they did and I home, and took money in my pocket to pay many reckonings today in the town, as my bookseller’s, and paid at another shop £4 10s. for Stephens’s Thesaurus Græcæ Linguæ, given to Paul’s School.1636 So to my brother’s and shoemaker, and so to my Lord Crew’s, and dined alone with him, and after dinner much discourse about matters. Upon the whole, I understand there are great factions at Court, and something he said that did imply a difference like to be between the King and the Duke, in case the Queen should not be with child. I understand, about this bastard.1637 He says, also, that some great man will be aimed at when Parliament comes to sit again; I understand, the Chancellor: and that there is a bill will be brought in, that none that have been in arms for the Parliament shall be capable of office. And that the Court are weary of my Lord Albemarle and Chamberlin.1638 He wishes that my Lord Sandwich had some good occasion to be abroad this summer which is coming on, and that my Lord Hinchingbroke were well married, and Sydney1639 had some place at Court. He pities the poor ministers that are put out, to whom, he says, the King is beholden for his coming in, and that if any such thing had been foreseen he had never come in. After this, and much other discourse of the sea, and breeding young gentlemen to the sea, I went away, and homeward, met Mr. Creed at my bookseller’s in Paul’s Churchyard, who takes it ill my letter last night to Mr. Povy, wherein I accuse him of the neglect of the Tangier boats, in which I must confess I did not do altogether like a friend; but however it was truth, and I must own it to be so, though I fall wholly out with him for it. Thence home and to my office alone to do business, and read over half of Mr. Bland’s discourse concerning Trade, which (he being no scholler and so knows not the rules of writing orderly) is very good. So home to supper and to bed, my wife not being well. … This evening Mr. Gauden sent me, against Christmas, a great chine of beef and three dozen of tongues. I did give 5s. to the man that brought it, and half-a-crown to the porters. This day also the parish-clerk brought the general bill of mortality, which cost me half-a-crown more.1640
. Up pretty early, leaving my wife not well in bed, and with my boy walked, it being a most brave cold and dry frosty morning, and had a pleasant walk to Whitehall, where I intended to have received the Communion with the family, but I came a little too late. So I walked up into the house and spent my time looking over pictures, particularly the ships in King Henry VIIIth’s Voyage to Bullen;1641 marking the great difference between their build then and now. By and by down to the chapel again where Bishop Morley1642 preached upon the song of the Angels, “Glory to God on high, on earth peace, and good will towards men.” Methought he made but a poor sermon, but long, and reprehending the mistaken jollity of the Court for the true joy that shall and ought to be on these days, he particularized concerning their excess in plays and gaming, saying that he whose office it is to keep the gamesters in order and within bounds, serves but for a second rather in a duell, meaning the groom-porter. Upon which it was worth observing how far they are come from taking the reprehensions of a bishop seriously, that they all laugh in the chapel when he reflected on their ill actions and courses. He did much press us to joy in these public days of joy, and to hospitality. But one that stood by whispered in my ear that the Bishop himself do not spend one groat to the poor himself. The sermon done, a good anthem followed, with viols, and then the King came down to receive the Sacrament. But I stayed not, but calling my boy from my Lord’s lodgings, and giving Sarah some good advice, by my Lord’s order, to be sober and look after the house, I walked home again with great pleasure, and there dined by my wife’s bedside with great content, having a mess of brave plum-porridge1643 and a roasted pullet for dinner, and I sent for a mince-pie abroad, my wife not being well to make any herself yet. After dinner sat talking a good while with her, her [pain] being become less, and then to see Sir W. Penn a little, and so to my office, practising arithmetic alone and making an end of last night’s book with great content till eleven at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, my wife to the making of Christmas pies all day, being now pretty well again, and I abroad to several places about some businesses, among others bought a bake-pan in Newgate Market, and sent it home, it cost me 16s. So to Dr. Williams, but he is out of town, then to the Wardrobe. Hither come Mr. Battersby; and we falling into a discourse of a new book of drollery in verse called Hudebras,1644 I would needs go find it out, and met with it at the Temple: cost me 2s. 6d. But when I came to read it, it is so silly an abuse of the Presbyter Knight going to the wars, that I am ashamed of it; and by and by meeting at Mr. Townsend’s at dinner, I sold it to him for 18d. Here we dined with many tradesmen that belong to the Wardrobe, but I was weary soon of their company, and broke up dinner as soon as I could, and away, with the greatest reluctancy and dispute (two or three times my reason stopping my sense and I would go back again) within myself, to the Duke’s house and saw The Villaine,1645 which I ought not to do without my wife, but that my time is now out that I did undertake it for. But, Lord! to consider how my natural desire is to pleasure, which God be praised that he has given me the power by my late oaths to curb so well as I have done, and will do again after two or three plays more. Here I was better pleased with the play than I was at first, understanding the design better than I did. Here I saw Gosnell and her sister at a distance, and could have found it in my heart to have accosted them, but thought not prudent. But I watched their going out and found that they came, she, her sister and another woman, alone, without any man, and did go over the fields a foot. I find that I have an inclination to have her come again, though it is most against my interest either of profit or content of mind, other than for their singing. Home on foot, in my way calling at Mr. Rawlinson’s and drinking only a cup of ale there. He tells me my uncle has ended his purchase, which cost him £4,500, and how my uncle do express his trouble that he has with his wife’s relations, but I understand his great intentions are for the Wights that hang upon him and by whose advice this estate is bought. Thence home, and found my wife busy among her pies, but angry for some saucy words that her maid Jane has given her, which I will not allow of, and therefore will give her warning to be gone. As also we are both displeased for some slight words that Sarah, now at Sir W. Penn’s, hath spoke of us, but it is no matter. We shall endeavour to join the lion’s skin to the fox’s tail. So to my office alone a while, and then home to my study and supper and bed. Being also vexed at my boy for his staying playing abroad when he is sent of errands, so that I have sent him tonight to see whether their country carrier be in town or no, for I am resolved to keep him no more.
. Up, and while I am dressing I sent for my boy’s brother, William, that lives in town here as a groom, to whom and their sister Jane I told my resolution to keep the boy no longer. So upon the whole they desire to have him stay a week longer, and then he shall go. So to the office, and there Mr. Coventry and I sat till noon, and then I stepped to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, and after dinner with my wife to the Duke’s Theatre, and saw the second part of Rhodes,1646 done with the new Roxalana; which do it rather better in all respects for person, voice, and judgment, then the first Roxalana. Home with great content with my wife, not so well pleased with the company at the house today, which was full of citizens, there hardly being a gentleman or woman in the house; a couple of pretty ladies by us that made sport in it, being jostled and crowded by prentices. So home, and I to my study making up my monthly accounts, which is now fallen again to £630 or thereabouts, which not long since was £680, at which I am sorry, but I trust in God I shall get it up again, and in the meantime will live sparingly. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and, with my wife to church, and coming out, went out both before my Lady Batten, he not being there, which I believe will vex her. After dinner my wife to church again, and I to the French church, where I heard an old man make a tedious, long sermon, till they were fain to light candles to baptize the children by. So homewards, meeting my brother Tom, but spoke but little with him, and calling also at my uncle Wight’s, but met him and her going forth, and so I went directly home, and there fell to the renewing my last year’s oaths, whereby it has pleased God so much to better myself and practise, and so down to supper, and then prayers and bed.
. Up and walked to Whitehall, where the Duke and Mr. Coventry being gone forth I went to Westminster Hall, where I stayed reading at Mrs. Mitchell’s shop, and sent for half a pint of sack for her. Here she told me what I heard not of before, the strange burning of Mr. De Laun, a merchant’s house in Loathbury, and his lady (Sir Thomas Allen’s1647 daughter) and her whole family; not one thing, dog nor cat, escaping; nor any of the neighbours almost hearing of it till the house was quite down and burnt. How this should come to pass, God knows, but a most strange thing it is! Hither came Jack Spicer to me, and I took him to the Swan, where Mr. Herbert did give me my breakfast of cold chine of pork; and here Spicer and I talked of Exchequer matters, and how the Lord Treasurer1648 hath now ordered all monies to be brought into the Exchequer, and hath settled the King’s revenue, and given to every general expense proper assignments; to the Navy £200,000 and odd. He also told me of the great vast trade of the goldsmiths in supplying the King with money at dear rates. Thence to Whitehall, and got up to the top galleries in the Banquetting House, to see the audience of the Russia Embassadors;1649 which [took place] after long waiting and fear of the falling of the gallery (it being so full, and part of it being parted from the rest, for nobody to come up merely from the weakness thereof): and very handsome it was. After they were come in, I went down and got through the croude almost as high as the King and the Embassadors, where I saw all the presents, being rich furs, hawks, carpets, cloths of tissue, and seahorse teeth. The King took two or three hawks upon his fist, having a glove on, wrought with gold, given him for the purpose. The son of one of the Embassadors was in the richest suit for pearl and tissue, that ever I did see, or shall, I believe. After they and all the company had kissed the King’s hand, then the three Embassadors and the son, and no more, did kiss the Queen’s. One thing more I did observe, that the chief Embassador did carry up his master’s letters in state before him on high; and as soon as he had delivered them, he did fall down to the ground and lay there a great while. After all was done, the company broke up; and I spent a little while walking up and down the gallery seeing the ladies, the two Queens, and the Duke of Monmouth with his little mistress,1650 which is very little, and like my brother-in-law’s wife. So with Mr. Creed to the Harp and Ball, and there meeting with Mr. How, Goodgroom, and young Coleman, did drink and talk with them, and I have almost found out a young gentlewoman for my turn, to wait on my wife, of good family and that can sing. Thence I went away, and getting a coach went home and sat late talking with my wife about our entertaining Dr. Clerke’s lady and Mrs. Pierce shortly, being in great pain that my wife hath never a winter gown, being almost ashamed of it, that she should be seen in a taffeta one; when all the world wears moire;1651 so to prayers and to bed, but we could not come to any resolution what to do therein, other than to appear as she is.
. Up and to the office, whither Sir W. Penn came, the first time that he has come downstairs since his late great sickness of the gout. We with Mr. Coventry sat till noon, then I to the ’Change ward, to see what play was there, but I liked none of them, and so homeward, and calling in at Mr. Rawlinson’s, where he stopped me to dine with him and two East India officers of ships and Howell our turner. With the officers I had good discourse, particularly of the people at the Cape of Good Hope, of whom they of their own knowledge do tell me these one or two things: viz. … that they never sleep lying, but always sitting upon the ground, that their speech is not so articulate as ours, but yet [they] understand one another well, that they paint themselves all over with the grease the Dutch sell them (who have a fort there) and soot. After dinner drinking five or six glasses of wine, which liberty I now take till I begin my oath again, I went home and took my wife into coach, and carried her to Westminster; there visited Mrs. Ferrer, and stayed talking with her a good while, there being a little, proud, ugly, talking lady there, that was much crying up the Queen-Mother’s Court at Somerset House above our own Queen’s; there being before no allowance of laughing and the mirth that is at the other’s; and indeed it is observed that the greatest Court nowadays is there. Thence to Whitehall, where I carried my wife to see the Queen in her presence-chamber; and the maids of honour and the young Duke of Monmouth playing at cards. Some of them, and but a few, were very pretty; though all well dressed in velvet gowns. Thence to my Lord’s lodgings, where Mrs. Sarah did make us my Lord’s bed, and Mr. Creed I being sent for, sat playing at cards till it was late, and so good night, and with great pleasure to bed.
. Lay pretty long in bed, and then I up and to Westminster Hall, and so to the Swan, sending for Mr. W. Bowyer, and there drank my morning draught, and had some of his simple discourse. Among other things he tells me how the difference comes between his fair cousin Butler and Colonel Dillon, upon his opening letters of her brother’s from Ireland, complaining of his knavery, and forging others to the contrary; and so they are long ago quite broke off. Thence to a barber’s and so to my wife, and at noon took her to Mrs. Pierce’s by invitacion to dinner, where there came Dr. Clerke and his wife and sister and Mr. Knight, chief chirurgeon to the King and his wife. We were pretty merry, the two men being excellent company, but I confess I am wedded from the opinion either of Mrs. Pierce’s beauty upon discovery of her naked neck today, being undrest when we came in, or of Mrs. Clerke’s genius, which I so much admired, I finding her to be so conceited and fantastic in her dress this day and carriage, though the truth is, witty enough. After dinner with much ado the doctor and I got away to follow our business for a while, he to his patients and I to the Tangier Committee, where the Duke of York was, and we stayed at it a good while, and thence in order to the despatch of the boats and provisions for Tangier away, Mr. Povy, in his coach, carried Mr. Gauden and I into London to Mr. Bland’s, the merchant, where we stayed discoursing upon the reason of the delay of the going away of these things a great while. Then to eat a dish of anchovies, and drink wine and syder, and very merry, but above all things pleased to hear Mrs. Bland talk like a merchant in her husband’s business very well, and it seems she do understand it and perform a great deal. Thence merry back, Mr. Povy and, I to Whitehall; he carrying me thither on purpose to carry me into the ball this night before the King. All the way he talking very ingenuously, and I find him a fine gentleman, and one that loves to live nobly and neatly, as I perceive by his discourse of his house, pictures, and horses. He brought me first to the Duke’s chamber, where I saw him and the Duchess at supper; and thence into the room where the ball was to be, crammed with fine ladies, the greatest of the Court. By and by comes the King and Queen, the Duke and Duchess, and all the great ones: and after seating themselves, the King takes out the Duchess of York; and the Duke, the Duchess of Buckingham; the Duke of Monmouth, my Lady Castlemaine; and so other lords other ladies: and they danced the Bransle.1652 After that, the King led a lady a single Coranto1653 and then the rest of the lords, one after another, other ladies very noble it was, and great pleasure to see. Then to country dances; the King leading the first, which he called for; which was, says he, “Cuckolds all awry,”1654 the old dance of England. Of the ladies that danced, the Duke of Monmouth’s mistress, and my Lady Castlemaine, and a daughter of Sir Harry de Vicke’s,1655 were the best. The manner was, when the King dances, all the ladies in the room, and the Queen herself, stand up: and indeed he dances rarely, and much better that the Duke of York. Having stayed here as long as I thought fit, to my infinite content, it being the greatest pleasure I could wish now to see at Court, I went out, leaving them dancing, and to Mrs. Pierce’s, where I found the company had stayed very long for my coming, but all gone but my wife, and so I took her home by coach and so to my Lord’s again, where after some supper to bed, very weary and in a little pain from my riding a little uneasily tonight in the coach.
Thus ends this year with great mirth to me and my wife: Our condition being thus:—we are at present spending a night or two at my Lord’s lodgings at Whitehall. Our home at the Navy-office, which is and hath a pretty while been in good condition, finished and made very convenient. My purse is worth about £650, besides my goods of all sorts, which yet might have been more but for my late layings out upon my house and public assessment, and yet would not have been so much if I had not lived a very orderly life all this year by virtue of the oaths that God put into my heart to take against wine, plays, and other expenses, and to observe for these last twelve months, and which I am now going to renew, I under God owing my present content thereunto. My family is myself and wife, William, my clerk; Jane, my wife’s upper maid, but, I think, growing proud and negligent upon it: we must part, which troubles me; Susan, our cook-maid, a pretty willing wench, but no good cook; and Wayneman, my boy, who I am now turning away for his naughty tricks. We have had from the beginning our healths to this day very well, blessed be God! Our late maid Sarah going from us (though put away by us) to live with Sir W. Penn do trouble me, though I love the wench, so that we do make ourselves a little strange to him and his family for it, and resolve to do so. The same we are for other reasons to my Lady Batten and hers. We have lately had it in our thoughts, and I can hardly bring myself off of it, since Mrs. Gosnell cannot be with us, to find out another to be in the quality of a woman to my wife that can sing or dance, and yet finding it hard to save anything at the year’s end as I now live, I think I shall not be such a fool till I am more warm in my purse, besides my oath of entering into no such expenses till I am worth £1,000. By my last year’s diligence in my office, blessed be God! I am come to a good degree of knowledge therein; and am acknowledged so by all—the world, even the Duke himself, to whom I have a good access and by that, and my being Commissioner with him for Tangier, he takes much notice of me; and I doubt not but, by the continuance of the same endeavours, I shall in a little time come to be a man much taken notice of in the world, specially being come to so great an esteem with Mr. Coventry. The only weight that lies heavy upon my mind is the ending the business with my uncle Thomas about my dead uncle’s estate, which is very ill on our side, and I fear when all is done I must be forced to maintain my father myself, or spare a good deal towards it out of my own purse, which will be a very great pull back to me in my fortune. But I must be contented and bring it to an issue one way or other. Public matters stand thus: The King is bringing, as is said, his family, and Navy, and all other his charges, to a less expense. In the meantime, himself following his pleasures more than with good advice he would do; at least, to be seen to all the world to do so. His dalliance with my Lady Castlemaine being public, every day, to his great reproach; and his favouring of none at Court so much as those that are the confidants of his pleasure, as Sir H. Bennet and Sir Charles Barkeley; which, good God! put it into his heart to mend, before he makes himself too much contemned by his people for it! The Duke of Monmouth is in so great splendour at Court, and so dandled by the King, that some doubt, if the King should have no child by the Queen (which there is yet no appearance of), whether he would not be acknowledged for a lawful son; and that there will be a difference follow upon it between the Duke of York and him; which God prevent! My Lord Chancellor is threatened by people to be questioned, the next sitting of the Parliament, by some spirits that do not love to see him so great: but certainly he is a good servant to the King. The Queen-Mother is said to keep too great a Court now; and her being married to my Lord St. Albans is commonly talked of; and that they had a daughter between them in France, how true, God knows. The Bishops are high, and go on without any diffidence in pressing uniformity; and the Presbyters seem silent in it, and either conform or lay down, though without doubt they expect a turn, and would be glad these endeavours of the other Fanatics would take effect; there having been a plot lately found, for which four have been publicly tried at the Old Bailey and hanged. My Lord Sandwich is still in good esteem, and now keeping his Christmas in the country; and I in good esteem, I think, as any man can be, with him. Mr. Moore is very sickly, and I doubt will hardly get over his late fit of sickness, that still hangs on him. In fine, for the good condition of myself, wife, family, and estate, in the great degree that it is, and for the public state of the nation, so quiet as it is, the Lord God be praised!
January 1662–63
. Lay with my wife at my Lord’s lodgings, where I have been these two nights, till 10 o’clock with great pleasure talking, then I rose and to Whitehall, where I spent a little time walking among the courtiers, which I perceive I shall be able to do with great confidence, being now beginning to be pretty well known among them. Then to my wife again, and found Mrs. Sarah with us in the chamber we lay in. Among other discourse, Mrs. Sarah tells us how the King sups at least four or [five] times every week with my Lady Castlemaine; and most often stays till the morning with her, and goes home through the garden all alone privately, and that so as the very sentries take notice of it and speak of it. She tells me, that about a month ago she [Lady Castlemaine] quickened at my Lord Gerard’s1656 at dinner, and cried out that she was undone; and all the lords and men were fain to quit the room, and women called to help her. In fine, I find that there is nothing almost but bawdry at Court from top to bottom, as, if it were fit, I could instance, but it is not necessary; only they say my Lord Chesterfield,1657 groom of the stole to the Queen, is either gone or put away from the Court upon the score of his lady’s having smitten the Duke of York, so as that he is watched by the Duchess of York, and his lady is retired into the country upon it. How much of this is true, God knows, but it is common talk. After dinner I did reckon with Mrs. Sarah for what we have eat and drank here, and gave her a crown, and so took coach, and to the Duke’s House,1658 where we saw The Villaine again; and the more I see it, the more I am offended at my first undervaluing the play, it being very good and pleasant, and yet a true and allowable tragedy. The house was full of citizens, and so the less pleasant, but that I was willing to make an end of my gaddings, and to set to my business for all the year again tomorrow. Here we saw the old Roxalana1659 in the chief box, in a velvet gown, as the fashion is, and very handsome, at which I was glad. Hence by coach home, where I find all well, only Sir W. Penn they say ill again. So to my office to set down these two or three days’ journal, and to close the last year therein, and so that being done, home to supper, and to bed, with great pleasure talking and discoursing with my wife of our late observations abroad.
. Lay long in bed, and so up and to the office, where all the morning alone doing something or another. So dined at home with my wife, and in the afternoon to the Treasury office, where Sir W. Batten was paying off tickets, but so simply and arbitrarily, upon a dull pretence of doing right to the King, though to the wrong of poor people (when I know there is no man that means the King less right than he, or would trouble himself less about it, but only that he sees me stir, and so he would appear doing something, though to little purpose), that I was weary of it. At last we broke up, and walk home together, and I to see Sir W. Penn, who is fallen sick again. I stayed a while talking with him, and so to my office, practising some arithmetic, and so home to supper and bed, having sat up late talking to my poor wife with great content.
. Up and to the office all the morning, and dined alone with my wife at noon, and then to my office all the afternoon till night, putting business in order with great content in my mind. Having nothing now in my mind of trouble in the world, but quite the contrary, much joy, except only the ending of our difference with my uncle Thomas, and the getting of the bills well over for my building of my house here, which however are as small and less than any of the others. Sir W. Penn it seems is fallen very ill again. So to my arithmetic again tonight, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church, where a lazy sermon, and so home to dinner to a good piece of powdered beef, but a little too salt. At dinner my wife did propound my having of my sister Pall at my house again to be her woman, since one we must have, hoping that in that quality possibly she may prove better than she did before, which I take very well of her, and will consider of it, it being a very great trouble to me that I should have a sister of so ill a nature, that I must be forced to spend money upon a stranger when it might better be upon her, if she were good for anything. After dinner I and she walked, though it was dirty, to Whitehall (in the way calling at the Wardrobe to see how Mr. Moore do, who is pretty well, but not cured yet), being much afeard of being seen by anybody, and was, I think, of Mr. Coventry, which so troubled me that I made her go before, and I ever after loitered behind. She to Mr. Hunt’s, and I to Whitehall Chapel, and then up to walk up and down the house, which now I am well known there, I shall forbear to do, because I would not be thought a lazy body by Mr. Coventry and others by being seen, as I have lately been, to walk up and down doing nothing. So to Mr. Hunt’s, and there was most prettily and kindly entertained by him and her, who are two as good people as I hardly know any, and so neat and kind one to another. Here we stayed late, and so to my Lord’s to bed.
. Up and to the Duke, who himself told me that Sir J. Lawson was come home to Portsmouth from the Streights, who is now come with great renown among all men, and, I perceive, mightily esteemed at Court by all. The Duke did not stay long in his chamber; but to the King’s chamber, whither by and by the Russia Embassadors come; who, it seems, have a custom that they will not come to have any treaty with our or any King’s Commissioners, but they will themselves see at the time the face of the King himself, be it forty days one after another; and so they did today only go in and see the King; and so out again to the Council-chamber. The Duke returned to his chamber, and so to his closet, where Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, Mr. Coventry, and myself attended him about the business of the Navy; and after much discourse and pleasant talk he went away. And I took Sir W. Batten and Captain Allen1660 into the wine cellar to my tenant (as I call him, Serjeant Dalton), and there drank a great deal of variety of wines, more than I have drunk at one time, or shall again a great while, when I come to return to my oaths, which I intend in a day or two. Thence to my Lord’s lodging, where Mr. Hunt and Mr. Creed dined with us, and were very merry. And after dinner he and I to Whitehall, where the Duke and the Commissioners for Tangier met, but did not do much: my Lord Sandwich not being in town, nobody making it their business. So up, and Creed and I to my wife again, and after a game or two at cards, to the Cockpit, where we saw Claracilla,1661 a poor play, done by the King’s house (but neither the King nor Queen were there, but only the Duke and Duchess, who did show some impertinent and, methought, unnatural dalliances there, before the whole world, such as kissing, and leaning upon one another); but to my very little content, they not acting in any degree like the Duke’s people. So home (there being here this night Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Martha Batten of our office) to my Lord’s lodgings again, and to a game at cards, we three and Sarah, and so to supper and some apples and ale, and to bed with great pleasure, blessed be God!
. Up and Mr. Creed brought a pot of chocolate ready made for our morning draught, and then he and I to the Duke’s, but I was not very willing to be seen at this end of the town, and so returned to our lodgings, and took my wife by coach to my brother’s, where I set her down, and Creed and I to St. Paul’s Churchyard, to my bookseller’s, and looked over several books with good discourse, and then into St. Paul’s Church, and there finding Elborough, my old schoolfellow at Paul’s, now a parson, whom I know to be a silly fellow, I took him out and walked with him, making Creed and myself sport with talking with him, and so sent him away, and we to my office and house to see all well, and thence to the Exchange, where we met with Major Thomson, formerly of our office, who do talk very highly of liberty of conscience, which now he hopes for by the King’s declaration, and that he doubts not that if he will give him, he will find more and better friends than the Bishops can be to him, and that if he do not, there will many thousands in a little time go out of England, where they may have it. But he says that they are well contented that if the King thinks it good, the Papists may have the same liberty with them. He tells me, and so do others, that Dr. Calamy is this day sent to Newgate for preaching, Sunday was sennight, without leave, though he did it only to supply the place; when otherwise the people must have gone away without ever a sermon, they being disappointed of a minister but the Bishop of London will not take that as an excuse. Thence into Wood Street, and there bought a fine table for my dining room, cost me 50s.; and while we were buying it, there was a scare-fire1662 in an alley over against us, but they quenched it. So to my brother’s, where Creed and I and my wife dined with Tom, and after dinner to the Duke’s house, and there saw Twelfth Night1663 acted well, though it be but a silly play, and not related at all to the name or day. Thence Mr. Battersby the apothecary, his wife, and I and mine by coach together, and setting him down at his house, he paying his share, my wife and I home, and found all well, only myself somewhat vexed at my wife’s neglect in leaving of her scarf, waistcoat, and night-dressings in the coach today that brought us from Westminster, though, I confess, she did give them to me to look after, yet it was her fault not to see that I did take them out of the coach. I believe it might be as good as 25s. loss or thereabouts. So to my office, however, to set down my last three days’ journal, and writing to my Lord Sandwich to give him an account of Sir J. Lawson’s being come home, and to my father about my sending him some wine and things this week, for his making an entertainment of some friends in the country, and so home. This night making an end wholly of Christmas, with a mind fully satisfied with the great pleasures we have had by being abroad from home, and I do find my mind so apt to run to its old want of pleasures, that it is high time to betake myself to my late vows, which I will tomorrow, God willing, perfect and bind myself to, that so I may, for a great while, do my duty, as I have well begun, and increase my good name and esteem in the world, and get money, which sweetens all things, and whereof I have much need. So home to supper and to bed, blessing God for his mercy to bring me home, after much pleasure, to my house and business with health and resolution to fall hard to work again.
. Up pretty early, that is by seven o’clock, it being not yet light before or then. So to my office all the morning, signing the Treasurer’s ledger, part of it where I have not put my hand, and then eat a mouthful of pie at home to stay my stomach, and so with Mr. Waith by water to Deptford, and there among other things viewed old pay-books, and found that the Commanders did never heretofore receive any pay for the rigging time, but only for seatime, contrary to what Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten told the Duke the other day. I also searched all the ships in the Wet Dock for fire, and found all in good order, it being very dangerous for the King that so many of his ships lie together there. I was among the canvass in stores also, with Mr. Harris, the sailmaker, and learnt the difference between one sort and another, to my great content, and so by water home again, where my wife tells me stories how she hears that by Sarah’s going to live at Sir W. Penn’s, all our affairs of my family are made known and discoursed of there and theirs by my people, which do trouble me much, and I shall take a time to let Sir W. Penn know how he has dealt in taking her without our full consent. So to my office, and by and by home to supper, and so to prayers and bed.
. Up pretty early, and sent my boy to the carrier’s with some wine for my father, for to make his feast among his Brampton friends this Christmas, and my muff to my mother, sent as from my wife. But before I sent my boy out with them, I beat him for a lie he told me, at which his sister, with whom we have of late been highly displeased, and warned her to be gone, was angry, which vexed me, to see the girl I loved so well, and my wife, should at last turn so much a fool and unthankful to us. So to the office, and there all the morning, and though without and a little against the advice of the officers did, to gratify him, send Thomas Hater today towards Portsmouth a day or two before the rest of the clerks, against the Pay next week. Dined at home; and there being the famous new play acted the first time today, which is called The Adventures of Five Hours, at the Duke’s house, being, they say, made or translated by Colonel Tuke,1664 I did long to see it; and so made my wife to get her ready, though we were forced to send for a smith, to break open her trunk, her maid Jane being gone forth with the keys, and so we went; and though early, were forced to sit almost out of sight, at the end of one of the lower forms, so full was the house. And the play, in one word, is the best, for the variety and the most excellent continuance of the plot to the very end, that ever I saw, or think ever shall, and all possible, not only to be done in the time, but in most other respects very admittable, and without one word of ribaldry; and the house, by its frequent plaudits, did show their sufficient approbation. So home; with much ado in an hour getting a coach home, and, after writing letters at my office, I went home to supper and to bed, now resolving to set up my rest as to plays till Easter, if not Whitsuntide next, excepting plays at Court.
. Waking in the morning, my wife I found also awake, and begun to speak to me with great trouble and tears, and by degrees from one discourse to another at last it appears that Sarah has told somebody that has told my wife of my meeting her at my brother’s and making her sit down by me while she told me stories of my wife, about her giving her scallop to her brother, and other things, which I am much vexed at, for I am sure I never spoke anything of it, nor could anybody tell her but by Sarah’s own words. I endeavoured to excuse my silence herein hitherto by not believing anything she told me, only that of the scallop which she herself told me of.1665 At last we pretty good friends, and my wife begun to speak again of the necessity of her keeping somebody to bear her company; for her familiarity with her other servants is it that spoils them all, and other company she hath none, which is too true, and called for Jane to reach her out of her trunk, giving her the keys to that purpose, a bundle of papers, and pulls out a paper, a copy of what, a pretty while since, she had wrote in a discontent to me, which I would not read, but burnt. She now read it, and it was so piquant, and wrote in English, and most of it true, of the retiredness of her life, and how unpleasant it was; that being wrote in English, and so in danger of being met with and read by others, I was vexed at it, and desired her and then commanded her to tear it. When she desired to be excused it, I forced it from her, and tore it, and withal took her other bundle of papers from her, and leapt out of the bed and in my shirt clapped them into the pocket of my breeches, that she might not get them from me, and having got on my stockings and breeches and gown, I pulled them out one by one and tore them all before her face, though it went against my heart to do it, she crying and desiring me not to do it, but such was my passion and trouble to see the letters of my love to her, and my Will wherein I had given her all I have in the world, when I went to sea with my Lord Sandwich, to be joined with a paper of so much disgrace to me and dishonour, if it should have been found by anybody. Having torn them all, saving a bond of my uncle Robert’s, which she hath long had in her hands, and our marriage license, and the first letter that ever I sent her when I was her servant,1666 I took up the pieces and carried them into my chamber, and there, after many disputes with myself whether I should burn them or no, and having picked up the pieces of the paper she read today, and of my Will which I tore, I burnt all the rest, and so went out to my office troubled in mind. Hither comes Major Tolhurst, one of my old acquaintance in Cromwell’s time, and sometimes of our clubb, to see me, and I could do no less than carry him to the Mitre, and having sent for Mr. Beane, a merchant, a neighbour of mine, we sat and talked, Tolhurst telling me the manner of their collieries in the north. We broke up, and I home to dinner. And to see my folly, as discontented as I am, when my wife came I could not forbear smiling all dinner till she began to speak bad words again, and then I began to be angry again, and so to my office. Mr. Bland came in the evening to me hither, and sat talking to me about many things of merchandise, and I should be very happy in his discourse, durst I confess my ignorance to him, which is not so fit for me to do. There coming a letter to me from Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, by my desire appointing his and Dr. Clerke’s coming to dine with me next Monday, I went to my wife and agreed upon matters, and at last for my honour am forced to make her presently a new Moire gown to be seen by Mrs. Clerke, which troubles me to part with so much money, but, however, it sets my wife and I to friends again, though I and she never were so heartily angry in our lives as today almost, and I doubt the heartburning will not [be] soon over, and the truth is I am sorry for the tearing of so many poor loving letters of mine from sea and elsewhere to her. So to my office again, and there the Scrivener brought me the end of the manuscript which I am going to get together of things of the Navy, which pleases me much. So home, and mighty friends with my wife again, and so to bed.
. Up and to the office. From thence, before we sat, Sir W. Penn sent for me to his bedside to talk (indeed to reproach me with my not owning to Sir J. Minnes that he had my advice in the blocking up of the garden door the other day, which is now by him out of fear to Sir J. Minnes opened again), to which I answered him so indifferently that I think he and I shall be at a distance, at least to one another, better than ever we did and love one another less, which for my part I think I need not care for. So to the office, and sat till noon, then rose and to dinner, and then to the office again, where Mr. Creed sat with me till late talking very good discourse, as he is full of it, though a cunning knave in his heart, at least not to be too much trusted, till Sir J. Minnes came in, which at last he did, and so beyond my expectation he was willing to sign his accounts, notwithstanding all his objections, which really were very material, and yet how like a doting coxcomb he signs the accounts without the least satisfaction, for which we both sufficiently laughed at him and Sir W. Batten after they had signed them and were gone, and so sat talking together till 11 o’clock at night, and so home and to bed.
. Lay long talking pleasant with my wife, then up and to church, the pew being quite full with strangers come along with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, so after a pitiful sermon of the young Scott, home to dinner. After dinner comes a footman of my Lord Sandwich’s (my Lord being come to town last night) with a letter from my father, in which he presses me to carry on the business for Tom with his late mistress, which I am sorry to see my father do, it being so much out of our power or for his advantage, as it is clear to me it is, which I shall think of and answer in my next. So to my office all the afternoon writing orders myself to have ready against tomorrow, that I might not appear negligent to Mr. Coventry. In the evening to Sir W. Penn’s, where Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, and afterwards came Sir G. Carteret. There talked about business, and afterwards to Sir W. Batten’s, where we stayed talking and drinking Syder, and so I went away to my office a little, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and to Sir W. Batten’s to bid him and Sir J. Minnes adieu, they going this day towards Portsmouth, and then to Sir W. Penn’s to see Sir J. Lawson, who I heard was there, where I found him the same plain man that he was, after all his success in the Straights, with which he is come loaded home. Thence to Sir G. Carteret, and with him in his coach to Whitehall, and first I to see my Lord Sandwich (being come now from Hinchingbrooke), and after talking a little with him, he and I to the Duke’s chamber, where Mr. Coventry and he and I into the Duke’s closet and Sir J. Lawson discoursing upon business of the Navy, and particularly got his consent to the ending some difficulties in Mr. Creed’s accounts. Thence to my Lord’s lodgings, and with Mr. Creed to the King’s Head ordinary, but people being set down, we went to two or three places; at last found some meat at a Welch cook’s at Charing Cross, and here dined and our boys. After dinner to the ’Change to buy some linen for my wife, and going back met our two boys. Mine had struck down Creed’s boy in the dirt, with his new suit on, and the boy taken by a gentlewoman into a house to make clean, but the poor boy was in a pitiful taking and pickle; but I basted my rogue soundly. Thence to my Lord’s lodging, and Creed to his, for his papers against the Committee. I found my Lord within, and he and I went out through the garden towards the Duke’s chamber, to sit upon the Tangier matters; but a lady called to my Lord out of my Lady Castlemaine’s lodging, telling him that the King was there and would speak with him. My Lord could not tell what to bid me say at the Committee to excuse his absence, but that he was with the King; nor would suffer me to go into the Privy Garden (which is now a through-passage, and common), but bid me to go through some other way, which I did; so that I see he is a servant of the King’s pleasures too, as well as business. So I went to the Committee, where we spent all this night attending to Sir J. Lawson’s description of Tangier and the place for the Mole,1667 of which he brought a very pretty draught. Concerning the making of the Mole, Mr. Cholmely did also discourse very well, having had some experience in it. Being broke up, I home by coach to Mr. Bland’s, and there discoursed about sending away of the merchant ship which hangs so long on hand for Tangier. So to my Lady Batten’s, and sat with her awhile, Sir W. Batten being gone out of town; but I did it out of design to get some oranges for my feast tomorrow of her, which I did. So home, and found my wife’s new gown come home, and she mightily pleased with it. But I appeared very angry that there were no more things got ready against tomorrow’s feast, and in that passion sat up long, and went discontented to bed.
. So my poor wife rose by five o’clock in the morning, before day, and went to market and bought fowls and many other things for dinner, with which I was highly pleased, and the chine of beef was down also before six o’clock, and my own jack, of which I was doubtful, do carry it very well. Things being put in order, and the cook come, I went to the office, where we sat till noon and then broke up, and I home, whither by and by comes Dr. Clerke and his lady, his sister, and a she-cousin, and Mr. Pierce and his wife, which was all my guests. I had for them, after oysters, at first course, a hash of rabbits, a lamb, and a rare chine of beef. Next a great dish of roasted fowl, cost me about 30s., and a tart, and then fruit and cheese. My dinner was noble and enough. I had my house mighty clean and neat; my room below with a good fire in it; my dining room above, and my chamber being made a withdrawing-chamber; and my wife’s a good fire also. I find my new table very proper, and will hold nine or ten people well, but eight with great room. After dinner the women to cards in my wife’s chamber, and the Dr. and Mr. Pierce in mine, because the dining room smokes unless I keep a good charcoal fire, which I was not then provided with. At night to supper, had a good sack posset and cold meat, and sent my guests away about ten o’clock at night, both them and myself highly pleased with our management of this day; and indeed their company was very fine, and Mrs. Clerke a very witty, fine lady, though a little conceited and proud. So weary, so to bed. I believe this day’s feast will cost me near £5.
. Lay very long in bed, till with shame forced to rise, being called up by Mr. Bland about business. He being gone I went and stayed upon business at the office and then home to dinner, and after dinner stayed a little talking pleasant with my wife, who tells me of another woman offered by her brother that is pretty and can sing, to which I do listen but will not appear over forward, but I see I must keep somebody for company sake to my wife, for I am ashamed she should live as she do. So to the office till 10 at night upon business, and numbering and examining part of my sea-manuscript with great pleasure, my wife sitting working by me. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office preparing things, by and by we met and sat Mr. Coventry and I till noon, and then I took him to dine with me, I having a wild goose roasted, and a cold chine of beef and a barrel of oysters. We dined alone in my chamber, and then he and I to fit ourselves for horseback, he having brought me a horse; and so to Deptford, the ways being very dirty. There we walked up and down the Yard and Wet Dock, and did our main business, which was to examine the proof of our new way of the call-books, which we think will be of great use. And so to horse again, and I home with his horse, leaving him to go over the fields to Lambeth, his boy at my house taking home his horse. I vexed, having left my keys in my other pocket in my chamber, and my door is shut, so that I was forced to set my boy in at the window, which done I shifted myself, and so to my office till late, and then home to supper, my mind being troubled about Field’s business and my uncle’s, which the term coming on I must think to follow again. So to prayers and to bed, and much troubled in mind this night in my dreams about my uncle Thomas and his son going to law with us.
. Lay long talking in bed with my wife. Up, and Mr. Battersby, the apothecary, coming to see me, I called for the cold chine of beef and made him eat, and drink wine, and talked, there being with us Captain Brewer, the paynter, who tells me how highly the Presbyters do talk in the coffeehouses still, which I wonder at. They being gone I walked two or three hours with my brother Tom, telling him my mind how it is troubled about my father’s concernments, and how things would be with them all if it should please God that I should die, and therefore desire him to be a good husband and follow his business, which I hope he do. At noon to dinner, and after dinner my wife began to talk of a woman again, which I have a mind to have, and would be glad Pall might please us, but she is quite against having her, nor have I any great mind to it, but only for her good and to save money flung away upon a stranger. So to my office till 9 o’clock about my navy manuscripts, and there troubled in my mind more and more about my uncle’s business from a letter come this day from my father that tells me that all his tenants are sued by my uncle, which will cost me some new trouble, I went home to supper and so to bed.
. Waked early with my mind troubled about our law matters, but it came into my mind that [saying] of Epictetus about his ὲφ’ ἡμῖν καὶ οὐκ etc.,1668 which did put me to a great deal of ease, it being a saying of great reason. Up to the office, and there sat Mr. Coventry, Mr. Pett, new come to town, and I. I was sorry for signing a bill and guiding Mr. Coventry to sign a bill to Mr. Creed for his pay as Deputy Treasurer to this day, though the service ended 5 or 6 months ago, which he perceiving did blot out his name afterwards, but I will clear myself to him from design in it. Sat till two o’clock and then home to dinner, and Creed with me, and after dinner, to put off my mind’s trouble, I took Creed by coach and to the Duke’s playhouse, where we did see The Five Hours entertainment again, which indeed is a very fine play, though, through my being out of order, it did not seem so good as at first; but I could discern it was not any fault in the play. Thence with him to the China alehouse, and there drank a bottle or two, and so home, where I found my wife and her brother discoursing about Mr. Ashwell’s daughter, whom we are like to have for my wife’s woman, and I hope it may do very well, seeing there is a necessity of having one. So to the office to write letters, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after the barber had done, and I had spoke with Mr. Smith (whom I sent for on purpose to speak of Field’s business, who stands upon £250 before he will release us, which do trouble me highly), and also Major Allen of the Victualling Office about his ship to be hired for Tangier, I went to church, and thence home to dinner alone with my wife, very pleasant, and after dinner to church again, and heard a dull, drowsy sermon, and so home and to my office, perfecting my vows again for the next year, which I have now done, and sworn to in the presence of Almighty God to observe upon the respective penalties thereto annexed, and then to Sir W. Penn’s (though much against my will, for I cannot bear him, but only to keep him from complaint to others that I do not see him) to see how he do, and find him pretty well, and ready to go abroad again.
. Up and to Whitehall, and while the Duke is dressing himself I went to wait on my Lord Sandwich, whom I found not very well, and Dr. Clerke with him. He is feverish, and hath sent for Mr. Pierce to let him blood, but not being in the way he puts it off till night, but he stirs not abroad today. Then to the Duke, and in his closet discoursed as we use to do, and then broke up. That done, I singled out Mr. Coventry into the Matted Gallery, and there I told him the complaints I meet every day about our Treasurer’s or his people’s paying no money, but at the goldsmith’s shops, where they are forced to pay fifteen or twenty sometimes percent for their money, which is a most horrid shame, and that which must not be suffered. Nor is it likely that the Treasurer (at least his people) will suffer Maynell the Goldsmith1669 to go away with £10,000 per annum, as he do now get, by making people pay after this manner for their money. We were interrupted by the Duke, who called Mr. Coventry aside for half an hour, walking with him in the gallery, and then in the garden, and then going away I ended my discourse with Mr. Coventry. But by the way Mr. Coventry was saying that there remained nothing now in our office to be amended but what would do of itself every day better and better, for as much as he that was slowest, Sir W. Batten, do now begin to look about him and to mind business. At which, God forgive me! I was a little moved with envy, but yet I am glad, and ought to be, though it do lessen a little my care to see that the King’s service is like to be better attended than it was heretofore. Thence by coach to Mr. Povy’s, being invited thither by [him] came a messenger this morning from him, where really he made a most excellent and large dinner, of their variety, even to admiration, he bidding us, in a frolic, to call for what we had a mind, and he would undertake to give it us: and we did for prawns, swan, venison, after I had thought the dinner was quite done, and he did immediately produce it, which I thought great plenty, and he seems to set off his rest in this plenty and the neatness of his house, which he after dinner showed me, from room to room, so beset with delicate pictures, and above all, a piece of perspective in his closet in the low parlor; his stable, where was some most delicate horses, and the very racks painted, and mangers, with a neat leaden painted cistern, and the walls done with Dutch tiles, like my chimneys. But still, above all things, he bid me go down into his wine-cellar, where upon several shelves there stood bottles of all sorts of wine, new and old, with labells pasted upon each bottle, and in the order and plenty as I never saw books in a bookseller’s shop; and herein, I observe, he puts his highest content, and will accordingly commend all that he hath, but still they deserve to be so. Here dined with me Dr. Whore and Mr. Scawen. Therewith him and Mr. Bland, whom we met by the way, to my Lord Chancellor’s, where the King was to meet my Lord Treasurer, etc., many great men, to settle the revenue of Tangier. I stayed talking awhile there, but the King not coming I walked to my brother’s, where I met my cousin Scotts1670 (Tom not being at home) and sent for a glass of wine for them, and having drunk we parted, and I to the Wardrobe talking with Mr. Moore about my law businesses, which I doubt will go ill for want of time for me to attend them. So home, where I found Mrs. Lodum speaking with my wife about her kinswoman which is offered my wife to come as a woman to her. So to the office and put things in order, and then home and to bed, it being my great comfort that every day I understand more and more the pleasure of following of business and the credit that a man gets by it, which I hope at last too will end in profit. This day, by Dr. Clerke, I was told the occasion of my Lord Chesterfield’s going and taking his lady (my Lord Ormond’s daughter) from Court. It seems he not only hath been long jealous of the Duke of York, but did find them two talking together, though there were others in the room, and the lady by all opinions a most good, virtuous woman. He, the next day (of which the Duke was warned by somebody that saw the passion my Lord Chesterfield was in the night before), went and told the Duke how much he did apprehend himself wronged, in his picking out his lady of the whole Court to be the subject of his dishonour;1671 which the Duke did answer with great calmness, not seeming to understand the reason of complaint, and that was all that passed but my Lord did presently pack his lady into the country in Derbyshire, near the Peake;1672 which is become a proverb at Court, to send a man’s wife to the Devil’s arse a’ Peake, when she vexes him. This noon I did find out Mr. Dixon at Whitehall, and discoursed with him about Mrs. Wheatly’s daughter for a wife for my brother Tom, and have committed it to him to enquire the pleasure of her father and mother concerning it. I demanded £300.
. Up betimes and to the office, where all the morning. Dined at home, and Mr. Deane of Woolwich with me, talking about the abuses of the yard. Then to the office about business all the afternoon with great pleasure, seeing myself observed by everybody to be the only man of business of us all, but Mr. Coventry. So till late at night, and then home to supper and bed.
. Up early leaving my wife very ill in bed … and to my office till eight o’clock, there coming Ch. Pepys1673 to demand his legacy of me, which I denied him upon good reason of his father and brother’s suing us, and so he went away. Then came Commissioner Pett, and he and I by agreement went to Deptford, and after a turn or two in the yard, to Greenwich, and thence walked to Woolwich. Here we did business, and I on board the Tangier-merchant, a ship freighted by us, that has long lain on hand in her despatch to Tangier, but is now ready for sailing. Back, and dined at Mr. Ackworth’s,1674 where a pretty dinner, and she a pretty, modest woman; but above all things we saw her Rocke, which is one of the finest things done by a woman that ever I saw. I must have my wife to see it. After dinner on board the Elias,1675 and found the timber brought by her from the forest of Deane to be exceeding good. The Captain gave each of us two barrels of pickled oysters put up for the Queen mother. So to the Dock again, and took in Mrs. Ackworth and another gentlewoman, and carried them to London, and at the Globe tavern, in Eastcheap, did give them a glass of wine, and so parted. I home, where I found my wife ill in bed all day, and her face swelled with pain. My Will has received my last two quarters salary, of which I am glad. So to my office till late and then home, and after the barber had done, to bed.
. To the office, where Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes are come from Portsmouth. We sat till dinner time. Then home, and Mr. Dixon by agreement came to dine, to give me an account of his success with Mr. Wheatly for his daughter for my brother; and in short it is, that his daughter cannot fancy my brother because of his imperfection in his speech, which I am sorry for, but there the business must die, and we must look out for another. There came in also Mrs. Lodum, with an answer from her brother Ashwell’s daughter, who is likely to come to me, and with her my wife’s brother, and I carried Commissioner Pett in with me, so I feared want of victuals, but I had a good dinner, and mirth, and so rose and broke up, and with the rest of the officers to Mr. Russell’s buriall, where we had wine and rings, and a great and good company of aldermen and the livery of the Skinners’ Company. We went to St. Dunstan’s in the East church, where a sermon, but I stayed not, but went home, and, after writing letters, I took coach to Mr. Povy’s, but he not within I left a letter there of Tangier business, and so to my Lord’s, and there find him not sick, but expecting his fit tonight of an ague. Here was Sir W. Compton, Mr. Povy, Mr. Bland, Mr. Gawden and myself; we were very busy about getting provisions sent forthwith to Tangier, fearing that by Mr. Gawden’s neglect they might want bread. So among other ways thought of to supply them I was empowered by the Commissioners of Tangier that were present to write to Plymouth and direct Mr. Lanyon to take up vessels great or small to the quantity of 150 tons, and fill them with bread of Mr. Gawden’s lying ready there for Tangier, which they undertake to bear me out in, and to see the freight paid. This I did. About 10 o’clock we broke up, and my Lord’s fit was coming upon him, and so we parted, and I with Mr. Creed, Mr. Pierce, Wm. Howe and Captn. Ferrers, who was got almost drunk this afternoon, and was mighty capricious and ready to fall out with anybody, supped together in the little chamber that was mine heretofore upon some fowls sent by Mr. Shepley, so we were very merry till 12 at night, and so away, and I lay with Mr. Creed at his lodgings, and slept well.
. Up and hastened him in despatching some business relating to Tangier, and I away homewards, hearing that my Lord had a bad fit tonight, called at my brother’s, and found him sick in bed, of a pain in the sole of one of his feet, without swelling, knowing not how it came, but it will not suffer him to stand these two days. So to Mr. Moore, and Mr. Lovell, our proctor, being there, discoursed of my law business. Thence to Mr. Grant, to bid him come for money for Mr. Barlow, and he and I to a coffeehouse, where Sir J. Cutler1676 was; and in discourse, among other things, he did fully make it out that the trade of England is as great as ever it was, only in more hands; and that of all trades there is a greater number than ever there was, by reason of men taking more ’prentices, because of their having more money than heretofore. His discourse was well worth hearing. Coming by Temple Bar I bought Audley’s Way to Be Rich,1677 a serious pamphlet and some good things worth my minding. Thence homewards, and meeting Sir W. Batten, turned back again to a coffeehouse, and there drunk more till I was almost sick, and here much discourse, but little to be learned, but of a design in the north of a rising, which is discovered, among some men of condition, and they sent for up. Thence to the ’Change, and so home with him by coach, and I to see how my wife do, who is pretty well again, and so to dinner to Sir W. Batten’s to a cod’s head, and so to my office, and after stopping to see Sir W. Penn, where was Sir J. Lawson and his lady and daughter, which is pretty enough, I came back to my office, and there set to business pretty late, finishing the margenting my Navy-Manuscript. So home and to bed.
. Lay pretty long, and by lying with my sheet upon my lip, as I have of old observed it, my upper lip was blistered in the morning. To the office all the morning, sat till noon, then to the Exchange to look out for a ship for Tangier, and delivered my manuscript to be bound at the stationer’s. So to dinner at home, and then down to Redriffe, to see a ship hired for Tangier, what readiness she was in, and found her ready to sail. Then home, and so by coach to Mr. Povy’s, where Sir W. Compton, Mr. Bland, Gawden, Sir J. Lawson and myself met to settle the victualling of Tangier for the time past, which with much ado we did, and for a six months’ supply more. So home in Mr. Gawden’s coach, and to my office till late about business, and find that it is business that must and do every day bring me to something.1678 So home to supper and to bed.
. Lay till 9 abed, then up, and being trimmed by the barber, I walked towards Whitehall, calling upon Mr. Moore, whom I found still very ill of his ague. I discoursed with him about my Lord’s estate against I speak with my Lord this day. Thence to the King’s Head ordinary at Charing Cross, and sent for Mr. Creed, where we dined very finely and good company, good discourse. I understand the King of France is upon consulting his divines upon the old question, what the power of the Pope is? and do intend to make war against him, unless he do right him for the wrong his Embassador received;1679 and banish the Cardinall Imperiall,1680 which I understand this day is not meant the Cardinall belonging or chosen by the Emperor, but the name of his family is Imperiali. Thence to walk in the Park, which we did two hours, it being a pleasant sunshine day though cold. Our discourse upon the rise of most men that we know, and observing them to be the results of chance, not policy, in any of them, particularly Sir J. Lawson’s, from his declaring against Charles Stuart in the river of Thames, and for the Rump. Thence to my Lord, who had his ague fit last night, but is now pretty well, and I stayed talking with him an hour alone in his chamber, about sundry public and private matters. Among others, he wonders what the project should be of the Duke’s going down to Portsmouth just now with his Lady, at this time of the year: it being no way, we think, to increase his popularity, which is not great; nor yet safe to do it, for that reason, if it would have any such effect. By and by comes in my Lady Wright, and so I went away, end after talking with Captn. Ferrers, who tells me of my Lady Castlemaine’s and Sir Charles Barkeley being the great favourites at Court, and growing every day more and more; and that upon a late dispute between my Lord Chesterfield, that is the Queen’s Lord Chamberlain, and Mr. Edward Montagu, her Master of the Horse, who should have the precedence in taking the Queen’s upperhand abroad out of the house, which Mr. Montagu challenges, it was given to my Lord Chesterfield. So that I perceive he goes down the wind in honour as well as everything else, every day. So walk to my brother’s and talked with him, who tells me that this day a messenger is come, that tells us how Collonel Honiwood,1681 who was well yesterday at Canterbury, was flung by his horse in getting up, and broke his scull, and so is dead. So home and to the office, despatching some business, and so home to supper, and then to prayers and to bed.
. Up and by water with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, drinking a glass of wormewood wine at the Stillyard, and so up to the Duke, and with the rest of the officers did our common service; thence to my Lord Sandwich’s, but he was in bed, and had a bad fit last night, and so I went to Westminster Hall, it being Term time, it troubling me to think that I should have any business there to trouble myself and thoughts with. Here I met with Monsieur Raby, who is lately come from France. [He] tells me that my Lord Hinchingbroke and his brother do little improve there, and are much neglected in their habits and other things; but I do believe he hath a mind to go over as their tutour, and so I am not apt to believe what he says therein. But I had a great deal of very good discourse with him, concerning the difference between the French and the Pope, and the occasion, which he told me very particularly, and to my great content; and of most of the chief affairs of France, which I did enquire: and that the King is a most excellent Prince, doing all business himself; and that it is true he hath a mistress, Mademoiselle La Valiere,1682 one of the Princess Henriette’s women, that he courts for his pleasure every other day, but not so as to make him neglect his public affairs. He tells me how the King do carry himself nobly to the relations of the dead Cardinall1683 and will not suffer one pasquill to come forth against him; and that he acts by what directions he received from him before his death. Having discoursed long with him, I took him by coach and set him down at my Lord Crew’s, and myself went and dined at Mr. Povy’s, where Orlando Massam, Mr. Wilks, a Wardrobe man, myself and Mr. Gawden, and had just such another dinner as I had the other day there. But above all things I do the most admire his piece of perspective especially, he opening me the closet door, and there I saw that there is nothing but only a plain picture hung upon the wall. After dinner Mr. Gauden and I to settle the business of the Tangier victualling, which I perceive none of them yet have hitherto understood but myself. Thence by coach to Whitehall, and met upon the Tangier Commission, our greatest business the discoursing of getting things ready for my Lord Rutherford to go about the middle of March next, and a proposal of Sir J. Lawson’s and Mr. Cholmely’s concerning undertaking the Mole, which is referred to another time. So by coach home, being melancholy, overcharged with business, and methinks I fear that I have some ill offices done to Mr. Coventry, or else he observes that of late I have not despatched business so as I did use to do, which I confess I do acknowledge. But it may be it is but my fear only, he is not so fond as he used to be of me. But I do believe that Sir W. Batten has made him believe that I do too much crow upon having his kindness, and so he may on purpose to countenance him seem a little more strange to me, but I will study hard to bring him back again to the same degree of kindness. So home, and after a little talk with my wife, to the office, and did a great deal of business there till very late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where sat till two o’clock, and then home to dinner, whither by and by comes Mr. Creed, and he and I talked of our Tangier business, and do find that there is nothing in the world done with true integrity, but there is design along with it, as in my Lord Rutherford, who designs to have the profit of victualling of the garrison himself, and others to have the benefit of making the Mole, so that I am almost discouraged from coming any more to the Committee, were it not that it will possibly hereafter bring me to some acquaintance of great men. Then to the office again, where very busy till past ten at night, and so home to supper and to bed. I have news this day from Cambridge that my brother hath had his bachelor’s cap put on; but that which troubles me is, that he hath the pain of the stone, and makes bloody water with great pain, it beginning just as mine did. I pray God help him.
. Up and all the morning at my office doing business, and at home seeing my painters’ work measured. So to dinner and abroad with my wife, carrying her to Unthank’s, where she alights, and I to my Lord Sandwich’s, whom I find missing his ague fit today, and is pretty well, playing at dice (and by this I see how time and example may alter a man; he being now acquainted with all sorts of pleasures and vanities, which heretofore he never thought of nor loved, nor, it may be, hath allowed) with Ned Pickering and his page Laud. Thence to the Temple to my cousin Roger Pepys, and thence to Serjt. Bernard to advise with him and retain him against my uncle, my heart and head being very heavy with the business. Thence to Wotton’s, the shoemaker, and there bought another pair of new boots, for the other I bought my last would not fit me, and here I drank with him and his wife, a pretty woman, they broaching a vessel of syder a-purpose for me. So home, and there found my wife come home, and seeming to cry; for bringing home in a coach her new ferrandin1684 waistecoate, in Cheapside, a man asked her whether that was the way to the Tower; and while she was answering him, another, on the other side, snatched away her bundle out of her lap, and could not be recovered, but ran away with it, which vexes me cruelly, but it cannot be helped. So to my office, and there till almost 12 at night with Mr. Lewes, learning to understand the manner of a purser’s account, which is very hard and little understood by my fellow officers, and yet mighty necessary. So at last with great content broke up and home to supper and bed.
. Lay chiding, and then pleased with my wife in bed, and did consent to her having a new waistcoate made her for that which she lost yesterday. So to the office, and sat all the morning. At noon dined with Mr. Coventry at Sir J. Minnes his lodgings, the first time that ever I did yet, and am sorry for doing it now, because of obliging me to do the like to him again. Here dined old Captn. Marsh of the Tower with us. So to visit Sir W. Penn, and then to the office, and there late upon business by myself, my wife being sick today. So home and to supper and to bed.
. A solemn fast for the King’s murther, and we were forced to keep it more than we would have done, having forgot to take any victuals into the house. I to church in the forenoon, and Mr. Mills made a good sermon upon David’s heart smiting him for cutting off the garment of Saul.1685 Home, and whiled away some of the afternoon at home talking with my wife. So to my office, and all alone making up my month’s accounts, which to my great trouble I find that I am got no further than £640. But I have had great expenses this month. I pray God the next may be a little better, as I hope it will. In the evening my manuscript is brought home handsomely bound, to my full content; and now I think I have a better collection in reference to the Navy, and shall have by the time I have filled it, than any of my predecessors. So home and eat something such as we have, bread and butter and milk, and so to bed.
. Up and to my office, and there we sat till noon. I home to dinner, and there found my plate of the Sovereign with the table to it come from Mr. Christopher Pett, of which I am very glad. So to dinner late, and not very good, only a rabbit not half roasted, which made me angry with my wife. So to the office, and there till late, busy all the while. In the evening examining my wife’s letter intended to my Lady, and another to Mademoiselle; they were so false spelt that I was ashamed of them, and took occasion to fall out about them with my wife, and so she wrote none, at which, however, I was sorry, because it was in answer to a letter of Madam about business. Late home to supper and to bed.
February 1662–63
. Up and to church, where Mr. Mills, a good sermon, and so home and had a good dinner with my wife, with which I was pleased to see it neatly done, and this troubled me to think of parting with Jane, that is come to be a very good cook. After dinner walked to my Lord Sandwich, and stayed with him in the chamber talking almost all the afternoon, he being not yet got abroad since his sickness. Many discourses we had; but, among others, how Sir R. Bernard is turned out of his Recordership of Huntingdon by the Commissioners for Regulation, etc., at which I am troubled, because he, thinking it is done by my Lord Sandwich, will act some of his revenge, it is likely, upon me in my business, so that I must cast about me to get some other counsel to rely upon. In the evening came Mr. Povey and others to see my Lord, and they gone, my Lord and I and Povey fell to the business of Tangier, as to the victualling, and so broke up, and I, it being a fine frost, my boy lighting me I walked home, and after supper up to prayers, and then alone with my wife and Jane did fall to tell her what I did expect would become of her since, after so long being my servant, she had carried herself so as to make us be willing to put her away, and desired God to bless [her], but bid her never to let me hear what became of her, for that I could never pardon ingratitude. So I to bed, my mind much troubled for the poor girl that she leaves us, and yet she not submitting herself, for some words she spoke boldly and yet I believe innocently and out of familiarity to her mistress about us weeks ago, I could not recall my words that she should stay with me. This day Creed and I walking in Whitehall Garden did see the King coming privately from my Lady Castlemaine’s; which is a poor thing for a Prince to do; and I expressed my sense of it to Creed in terms which I should not have done, but that I believe he is trusty in that point.
. Up, and after paying Jane her wages, I went away, because I could hardly forbear weeping, and she cried, saying it was not her fault that she went away, and indeed it is hard to say what it is, but only her not desiring to stay that she do now go. By coach with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten to the Duke; and after discourse as usual with him in his closet, I went to my Lord’s: the King and Duke being gone to chapel, it being collar-day, it being Candlemas-day; where I stayed with him a while until towards noon, there being Jonas Moore talking about some mathematical businesses, and thence I walked at noon to Mr. Povey’s, where Mr. Gawden met me, and after a neat and plenteous dinner as is usual, we fell to our victualling business, till Mr. Gawden and I did almost fall out, he defending himself in the readiness of his provision, when I know that the ships everywhere stay for them. Thence Mr. Povey and I walked to Whitehall, it being a great frost still, and after a turn in the Park seeing them slide, we met at the Committee for Tangier, a good full Committee, and agreed how to proceed in the dispatching of my Lord Rutherford, and treating about this business of Mr. Cholmely and Sir J. Lawson’s proposal for the Mole. Thence with Mr. Coventry down to his chamber, where among other discourse he did tell me how he did make it not only his desire, but as his greatest pleasure, to make himself an interest by doing business truly and justly, though he thwarts others greater than himself, not striving to make himself friends by addresses; and by this he thinks and observes he do live as contentedly (now he finds himself secured from fear of want), and, take one time with another, as void of fear or cares, or more, than they that (as his own termes were) have quicker pleasures and sharper agonies than he. Thence walking with Mr. Creed homewards we turned into a house and drank a cup of Cock ale and so parted, and I to the Temple, where at my cousin Roger’s chamber I met Madam Turner, and after a little stay led her home and there left her, she and her daughter having been at the play today at the Temple, it being a revelling time with them.1686 Thence called at my brother’s, who is at church, at the buriall of young Cumberland, a lusty young man. So home and there found Jane gone, for which my wife and I are very much troubled, and myself could hardly forbear shedding tears for fear the poor wench should come to any ill condition after her being so long with me. So to my office and setting papers to rights, and then home to supper and to bed. This day at my Lord’s I sent for Mr. Ashwell, and his wife came to me, and by discourse I perceive their daughter is very fit for my turn if my family may be as much for hers, but I doubt it will be to her loss to come to me for so small wages, but that will be considered of.
. To the office all the morning, at noon to dinner, where Mr. Creed dined with me, and Mr. Ashwell, with whom after dinner I discoursed concerning his daughter coming to live with us. I find that his daughter will be very fit, I think, as any for our turn, but the conditions I know not what they will be, he leaving it wholly to her, which will be agreed on a while hence when my wife sees her. After an hour’s discourse after dinner with them, I to my office again, and there about business of the office till late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up early and to Mr. Moore, and thence to Mr. Lovell about my law business, and from him to Paul’s School, it being Apposition-day there. I heard some of their speeches, and they were just as schoolboys’ used to be, of the seven liberal sciences; but I think not so good as ours were in our time. Away thence and to Bow Church, to the Court of Arches, where a judge sits, and his proctors about him in their habits, and their pleadings all in Latin. Here I was sworn to give a true answer to my uncle’s libels, and so paid my fee for swearing, and back again to Paul’s School, and went up to see the head forms posed in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, but I think they did not answer in any so well as we did, only in geography they did pretty well: Dr. Wilkins and Outram1687 were examiners. So down to the school, where Dr. Crumlum did me much honour by telling many what a present I had made to the school, showing my Stephanus, in four volumes, cost me £4 10s. He also showed us, upon my desire, an old edition of the grammar of Colett’s,1688 where his epistle to the children is very pretty; and in rehearsing the creed it is said “borne of the cleane Virgin Mary.” Thence with Mr. Elborough (he being all of my old acquaintance that I could meet with here) to a cook’s shop to dinner, but I found him a fool, as he ever was, or worse. Thence to my cousin Roger Pepys and Mr. Phillips about my law businesses, which stand very bad, and so home to the office, where after doing some business I went home, where I found our new maid Mary, that is come in Jane’s place.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and then home to dinner, and found it so well done, above what I did expect from my maid Susan, now Jane is gone, that I did call her in and give her sixpence. Thence walked to the Temple, and there at my cousin Roger Pepys’s chamber met by appointment with my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas, and there I showing them a true state of my uncle’s estate as he has left it with the debts, etc., lying upon it, we did come to some quiet talk and fair offers against an agreement on both sides, though I do offer quite to the losing of the profit of the whole estate for 8 or 10 years together, yet if we can gain peace, and set my mind at a little liberty, I shall be glad of it. I did give them a copy of this state, and we are to meet tomorrow with their answer. So walked home, it being a very great frost still, and to my office, there late writing letters of office business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office about business, examining people what they could swear against Field, and the whole is, that he has called us cheating rogues and cheating knaves, for which we hope to be even with him. Thence to Lincoln’s Inn Fields; and it being too soon to go to dinner, I walked up and down, and looked upon the outside of the new theatre, now a-building in Covent Garden,1689 which will be very fine. And so to a bookseller’s in the Strand, and there bought Hudibras again, it being certainly some ill humour to be so against that which all the world cries up to be the example of wit; for which I am resolved once again to read him, and see whether I can find it or no. So to Mr. Povy’s, and there found them at dinner, and dined there, there being, among others, Mr. Williamson, Latin Secretary,1690 who, I perceive, is a pretty knowing man and a scholler, but, it may be, thinks himself to be too much so. Thence, after dinner, to the Temple, to my cousin Roger Pepys, where met us my uncle Thomas and his son; and, after many high demands, we at last came to a kind of agreement upon very hard terms, which are to be prepared in writing against Tuesday next. But by the way promising them to pay my cousin Mary’s1691 legacies at the time of her marriage, they afterwards told me that she was already married, and married very well, so that I must be forced to pay it in some time. My cousin Roger was so sensible of our coming to agreement that he could not forbear weeping, and, indeed, though it is very hard, yet I am glad to my heart that we are like to end our trouble. So we parted for tonight, and I to my Lord Sandwich and there stayed, there being a Committee to sit upon the contract for the Mole, which I dare say none of us that were there understood, but yet they agreed of things as Mr. Cholmely and Sir J. Lawson demanded, who are the undertakers, and so I left them to go on to agree, for I understood it not. So home, and being called by a coachman who had a fare in him, he carried me beyond the Old Exchange, and there set down his fare, who would not pay him what was his due, because he carried a stranger with him, and so after wrangling he was fain to be content with 6d., and being vexed the coachman would not carry me home a great while, but set me down there for the other 6d., but with fair words he was willing to it, and so I came home and to my office, setting business in order, and so to supper and to bed, my mind being in disorder as to the greatness of this day’s business that I have done, but yet glad that my trouble therein is like to be over.
. Up and to my office, whither by agreement Mr. Coventry came before the time of sitting to confer about preparing an account of the extraordinary charge of the Navy since the King’s coming, more than is properly to be applied and called the Navy charge. So by and by we sat, and so till noon. Then home to dinner, and in the afternoon some of us met again upon something relating to the victualling, and thence to my writing of letters late, and making my Alphabet to my new Navy book very pretty. And so after writing to my father by the post about the endeavour to come to a composition with my uncle, though a very bad one, desiring him to be contented therewith, I went home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and it being a very great frost, I walked to Whitehall, and to my Lord Sandwich’s by the fireside till chapel time, and so to chapel, where there preached little Dr. Duport,1692 of Cambridge, upon Josiah’s words,1693—“But I and my house, we will serve the Lord.” But though a great scholler, he made the most flat dead sermon, both for matter and manner of delivery, that ever I heard, and very long beyond his hour, which made it worse. Thence with Mr. Creed to the King’s Head ordinary, where we dined well, and after dinner Sir Thomas Willis1694 and another stranger, and Creed and I, fell a-talking; they of the errours and corruption of the Navy, and great expense thereof, not knowing who I was, which at last I did undertake to confute, and disabuse them: and they took it very well, and I hope it was to good purpose, they being Parliament-men. By and by to my Lord’s, and with him a good while talking upon his want of money, and ways of his borrowing some, etc., and then by other visitants, I withdrew and away, Creed and I and Captn. Ferrers to the Park, and there walked finely, seeing people slide, we talking all the while; and Captn. Ferrers telling me, among other Court passages, how about a month ago, at a ball at Court, a child was dropped by one of the ladies in dancing, but nobody knew who, it being taken up by somebody in their handkercher. The next morning all the Ladies of Honour appeared early at Court for their vindication, so that nobody could tell whose this mischance should be. But it seems Mrs. Wells1695 fell sick that afternoon, and hath disappeared ever since, so that it is concluded that it was her. Another story was how my Lady Castlemaine, a few days since, had Mrs. Stuart1696 to an entertainment, and at night began a frolic that they two must be married, and married they were, with ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbons and a sack posset in bed, and flinging the stocking; but in the close, it is said that my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King came and took her place with pretty Mrs. Stuart. This is said to be very true. Another story was how Captain Ferrers and W. Howe both have often, through my Lady Castlemaine’s window, seen her go to bed and Sir Charles Barkeley in the chamber all the while with her. But the other day Captn. Ferrers going to Sir Charles to excuse his not being so timely at his arms the other day, Sir Charles swearing and cursing told him before a great many other gentlemen that he would not suffer any man of the King’s Guards to be absent from his lodging a night without leave. Not but that, says he, once a week or so I know a gentleman must go … , and I am not for denying it to any man, but however he shall be bound to ask leave to lie abroad, and to give account of his absence, that we may know what guard the King has to depend upon. The little Duke of Monmouth, it seems, is ordered to take place of all Dukes, and so to follow Prince Rupert now, before the Duke of Buckingham, or any else. Whether the wind and the cold did cause it or no I know not, but having been this day or two mightily troubled with an itching all over my body1697 which I took to be a louse or two that might bite me, I found this afternoon that all my body is inflamed, and my face in a sad redness and swelling and pimpled, so that I was before we had done walking not only sick but ashamed of myself to see myself so changed in my countenance, so that after we had thus talked we parted and I walked home with much ado (Captn. Ferrers with me as far as Ludgate Hill towards Mr. Moore at the Wardrobe), the ways being so full of ice and water by peoples’ trampling. At last got home and to bed presently, and had a very bad night of it, in great pain in my stomach, and in great fever.
. Could not rise and go to the Duke, as I should have done with the rest, but keep my bed and by the Apothecary’s advice, Mr. Battersby, I am to sweat soundly, and that will carry all this matter away which nature would of itself eject, but they will assist nature, it being some disorder given the blood, but by what I know not, unless it be by my late quantities of Danzig-girkins that I have eaten. In the evening came Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten to see me, and Sir J. Minnes advises me to the same thing, but would not have me take anything from the apothecary, but from him, his Venice treacle being better than the others, which I did consent to and did anon take and fell into a great sweat, and about 10 or 11 o’clock came out of it and shifted myself, and slept pretty well alone, my wife lying in the red chamber above.
. In the morning most of my disease, that is, itching and pimples, were gone. In the morning visited by Mr. Coventry and others, and very glad I am to see that I am so much inquired after and my sickness taken notice of as I did. I keep my bed all day and sweat again at night, by which I expect to be very well tomorrow. This evening Sir W. Warren came himself to the door and left a letter and box for me, and went his way. His letter mentions his giving me and my wife a pair of gloves; but, opening the box, we found a pair of plain white gloves for my hand, and a fair state dish of silver, and cup, with my arms, ready cut upon them, worth, I believe, about £18, which is a very noble present, and the best I ever had yet. So after some contentful talk with my wife, she to bed and I to rest.
. Took a clyster in the morning and rose in the afternoon. My wife and I dined on a pullet and I eat heartily, having eat nothing since Sunday but water gruel and posset drink, but must needs say that our new maid Mary has played her part very well in her readiness and discretion in attending me, of which I am very glad. In the afternoon several people came to see me, my uncle Thomas, Mr. Creed, Sir J. Minnes (who has been, God knows to what end, mighty kind to me and careful of me in my sickness). At night my wife read Sir H. Vane’s trial to me, which she began last night, and I find it a very excellent thing, worth reading, and him to have been a very wise man. So to supper and to bed.
. Up and find myself pretty well, and so to the office, and there all the morning. Rose at noon and home to dinner in my green chamber, having a good fire. Thither there came my wife’s brother and brought Mary Ashwell with him, whom we find a very likely person to please us, both for person, discourse, and other qualities. She dined with us, and after dinner went away again, being agreed to come to us about three weeks or a month hence. My wife and I well pleased with our choice, only I pray God I may be able to maintain it. Then came an old man from Mr. Povy, to give me some advice about his experience in the stone, which I [am] beholden to him for, and was well pleased with it, his chief remedy being Castle soap in a posset. Then in the evening to the office, late writing letters and my Journal since Saturday, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Lay very long with my wife in bed talking with great pleasure, and then rose. This morning Mr. Cole, our timber merchant, sent me five couple of ducks. Our maid Susan is very ill, and so the whole trouble of the house lies upon our maid Mary, who do it very contentedly and mighty well, but I am sorry she is forced to it. Dined upon one couple of ducks today, and after dinner my wife and I by coach to Tom’s, and I to the Temple to discourse with my cousin Roger Pepys about my law business, and so back again, it being a monstrous thaw after the long great frost, so that there is no passing but by coach in the streets, and hardly that. Took my wife home, and I to my office. Find myself pretty well but fearful of cold, and so to my office, where late upon business; Mr. Bland sitting with me, talking of my Lord Windsor’s1698 being come home from Jamaica, unlooked-for; which makes us think that these young Lords are not fit to do any service abroad, though it is said that he could not have his health there, but hath razed a fort of the King of Spain upon Cuba, which is considerable, or said to be so, for his honour. So home to supper and to bed. This day I bought the second part of Dr. Bates’s Elenchus,1699 which reaches to the fall of Richard, and no further, for which I am sorry. This evening my wife had a great mind to choose Valentines against tomorrow, I Mrs. Clerke, or Pierce, she Mr. Hunt or Captain Ferrers, but I would not because of getting charge both to me for mine and to them for her, which did not please her.
. Up and to my office, where we met and sat all the morning, only Mr. Coventry, which I think is the first or second time he has missed since he came to the office, was forced to be absent. So home to dinner, my wife and I upon a couple of ducks, and then by coach to the Temple, where my uncle Thomas, and his sons both, and I, did meet at my cousin Roger’s and there sign and seal to an agreement. Wherein I was displeased at nothing but my cousin Roger’s insisting upon my being obliged to settle upon them as the will do all my uncle’s estate that he has left, without power of selling any for the payment of debts, but I would not yield to it without leave of selling, my Lord Sandwich himself and my cousin Thos. Pepys being judges of the necessity thereof, which was done. One thing more that troubles me was my being forced to promise to give half of what personal estate could be found more than £372, which I reported to them, which though I do not know it to be less than what we really have found, yet he would have been glad to have been at liberty for that, but at last I did agree to it under my own handwriting on the backside of the report I did make and did give them of the estate, and have taken a copy of it upon the backside of one that I have. All being done I took the father and his son Thos. home by coach, and did pay them £30, the arrears of the father’s annuity, and with great seeming love parted, and I presently to bed, my head aching mightily with the hot dispute I did hold with my cousin Roger and them in the business.
. This morning my wife did wake me being frighted with the noise I made in my sleep, being a dream that one of our sea maisters did desire to see the St. John’s Isle of my drawing, which methought I showed him, but methought he did handle it so hard that it put me to very horrid pain. … Which what a strange extravagant dream it was. So to sleep again and lay long in bed, and then trimmed by the barber, and so sending Will to church, myself stayed at home, hanging up in my green chamber my picture of the Sovereign, and putting some things in order there. So to dinner, to three more ducks and two teals, my wife and I. Then to Church, where a dull sermon, and so home, and after walking about the house awhile discoursing with my wife, I to my office there to set down something and to prepare businesses for tomorrow, having in the morning read over my vows, which through sickness I could not do the last Lord’s day, and not through forgetfulness or negligence, so that I hope it is no breach of my vow not to pay my forfeiture. So home, and after prayers to bed, talking long with my wife and teaching her things in astronomy.
. Up and by coach with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, and, after we had done our usual business with the Duke, to my Lord Sandwich and by his desire to Sir W. Wheeler,1700 who was brought down in a sedan chair from his chamber, being lame of the gout, to borrow £1,000 of him for my Lord’s occasions, but he gave me a very kind denial that he could not, but if anybody else would, he would be bond with my Lord for it. So to Westminster Hall, and there find great expectation what the Parliament will do, when they come two days hence to sit again, in matters of religion. The great question is, whether the Presbyters will be contented to have the Papists have the same liberty of conscience with them, or no, or rather be denied it themselves: and the Papists, I hear, are very busy designing how to make the Presbyters consent to take their liberty, and to let them have the same with them, which some are apt to think they will. It seems a priest was taken in his vests officiating somewhere in Holborn the other day, and was committed by Secretary Morris, according to law; and they say the Bishop of London did give him thanks for it. Thence to my Lord Crew’s and dined there, there being much company, and the above-said matter is now the present public discourse. Thence about several businesses to Mr. Phillips my attorney, to stop all proceedings at law, and so to the Temple, where at the Solicitor General’s I found Mr. Cholmely and Creed reading to him the agreement for him to put into form about the contract for the Mole at Tangier, which is done at 13s. the Cubical yard, though upon my conscience not one of the Committee, besides the parties concerned, do understand what they do therein, whether they give too much or too little. Thence with Mr. Creed to see Mr. Moore, who continues sick still, within doors, and here I stayed a good while after him talking of all the things either business or no that came into my mind, and so home and to see Sir W. Penn, and sat and played at cards with him, his daughter, and Mrs. Rooth, and so to my office a while, and then home and to bed.
. Up and to my office, and there we sat all the morning, and at noon my wife being gone to Chelsey with her brother and sister and Mrs. Lodum, to see the wassel1701 at the school, where Mary Ashwell is, I took home Mr. Pett and he dined with me all alone, and much discourse we had upon the business of the office, and so after dinner broke up and with much ado, it raining hard, which it has not done a great while now, but only frost a great while, I got a coach and so to the Temple, where discoursed with Mr. W. Montagu about borrowing some money for my Lord, and so by water (where I have not been a good while through cold) to Westminster to Sir W. Wheeler’s, whom I found busy at his own house with the Commissioners of Sewers, but I spoke to him about my Lord’s business of borrowing money, and so to my Lord of Sandwich, to give him an account of all, whom I found at cards with Pickering; but he made an end soon: and so all alone, he and I, after I had given him an account, he told me he had a great secret to tell me, such as no flesh knew but himself, nor ought; which was this: that yesterday morning Eschar, Mr. Edward Montagu’s man, did come to him from his master with some of the Clerks of the Exchequer, for my Lord to sign to their books for the Embassy money; which my Lord very civilly desired not to do till he had spoke with his master himself. In the afternoon, my Lord and my Lady Wright being at cards in his chamber, in comes Mr. Montagu; and desiring to speak with my Lord at the window in his chamber, he begun to charge my Lord with the greatest ingratitude in the world: that he that had received his earldom, garter, £4,000 per annum, and whatever he is in the world, from him, should now study him all the dishonour that he could; and so fell to tell my Lord, that if he should speak all that he knew of him, he could do so-and-so. In a word, he did rip up all that could be said that was unworthy, and in the basest terms they could be spoken in. To which my Lord answered with great temper, justifying himself, but endeavouring to lessen his heat, which was a strange temper in him, knowing that he did owe all he hath in the world to my Lord, and that he is now all that he is by his means and favour. But my Lord did forbear to increase the quarrel, knowing that it would be to no good purpose for the world to see a difference in the family; but did allay him so as that he fell to weeping. And after much talk (among other things Mr. Montagu telling him that there was a fellow in the town, naming me, that had done ill offices, and that if he knew it to be so, he would have him cudgelled) my Lord did promise him that, if upon account he saw that there was not many tradesmen unpaid, he would sign the books; but if there was, he could not bear with taking too great a debt upon him. So this day he sent him an account, and a letter assuring him there was not above £200 unpaid; and so my Lord did sign to the Exchequer books. Upon the whole, I understand fully what a rogue he is, and how my Lord do think and will think of him for the future; telling me that thus he has served his father my Lord Manchester, and his whole family, and now himself: and which is worst, that he hath abused, and in speeches every day do abuse, my Lord Chancellor, whose favour he hath lost; and hath no friend but Sir H. Bennet, and that (I knowing the rise of the friendship) only from the likeness of their pleasures, and acquaintance, and concernments, they have in the same matters of lust and baseness; for which, God forgive them! But he do flatter himself, from promises of Sir H. Bennet, that he shall have a pension of £2,000 per annum, and be made an Earl. My Lord told me he expected a challenge from him, but told me there was no great fear of him, for there was no man lies under such an imputation as he do in the business of Mr. Cholmely, who, though a simple sorry fellow, do brave him and struts before him with the Queen, to the sport and observation of the whole Court. He did keep my Lord at the window, thus reviling and braving him above an hour, my Lady Wright being by; but my Lord tells me she could not hear every word, but did well know what their discourse was; she could hear enough to know that. So that he commands me to keep it as the greatest secret in the world, and bids me beware of speaking words against Mr. Montagu, for fear I should suffer by his passion thereby. After he had told me this I took coach and home, where I found my wife come home and in bed with her sister in law1702 in the chamber with her, she not being able to stay to see the wassel, being so ill … , which I was sorry for. Hither we sent for her sister’s viol, upon which she plays pretty well for a girl, but my expectation is much deceived in her, not only for that, but in her spirit, she being I perceive a very subtle witty jade, and one that will give her husband trouble enough as little as she is, whereas I took her heretofore for a very child and a simple fool. I played also, which I have not done this long time before upon any instrument, and at last broke up and I to my office a little while, being fearful of being too much taken with music, for fear of returning to my old dotage thereon, and so neglect my business as I used to do. Then home and to bed. Coming home I brought Mr. Pickering as far as the Temple, who tells me the story is very true of a child being dropped at the ball at Court; and that the King had it in his closet a week after, and did dissect it; and making great sport of it, said that in his opinion it must have been a month and three hours old; and that, whatever others think, he hath the greatest loss (it being a boy, as he says), that hath lost a subject by the business. He tells me, too, that the other story, of my Lady Castlemaine’s and Stuart’s marriage, is certain, and that it was in order to the King’s coming to Stuart, as is believed generally. He tells me that Sir H. Bennet is a Catholic, and how all the Court almost is changed to the worse since his coming in, they being afeard of him. And that the Queen-Mother’s Court is now the greatest of all; and that our own Queen hath little or no company come to her, which I know also to be very true, and am sorry to see it.
. Up, leaving my wife sick as last night in bed. I to my office all the morning, casting up with Captain Cocke their accounts of 500 tons of hemp brought from Riga, and bought by him and partners upon account, wherein are many things worth my knowledge. So at noon to dinner, taking Mr. Hater with me because of losing them, and in the afternoon he and I alone at the office, finishing our account of the extra charge of the Navy, not properly belonging to the Navy, since the King’s coming in to Christmas last; and all extra things being abated, I find that the true charge of the Navy to that time hath been after the rate of £374,743 a-year. I made an end by eleven o’clock at night, and so home to bed almost weary. This day the Parliament met again, after their long prorogation; but I know not anything what they have done, being within doors all day.
. Up and to my office, where abundance of business all the morning. Dined by my wife’s bedside, she not being yet well. We fell out almost upon my discourse of delaying the having of Ashwell, where my wife believing that I have a mind to have Pall, which I have not, though I could wish she did deserve to be had. So to my office, where by and by we sat, this afternoon being the first we have met upon a great while, our times being changed because of the parliament sitting. Being rose, I to my office till twelve at night, drawing out copies of the overcharge of the Navy, one to send to Mr. Coventry early tomorrow. So home and to bed, being weary, sleepy, and my eyes begin to fail me, looking so long by candlelight upon white paper. This day I read the King’s speech to the Parliament yesterday; which is very short, and not very obliging; but only telling them his desire to have a power of indulging tender consciences, not that he will yield to have any mixture in the uniformity of the Church’s discipline; and says the same for the Papists, but declares against their ever being admitted to have any offices or places of trust in the kingdom; but, God knows, too many have.
. Up and by water with Commissioner Pett to Deptford, and there looked over the yard, and had a call, wherein I am very highly pleased with our new manner of call-books, being my invention. Thence thinking to have gone down to Woolwich in the Charles pleasure boat, but she run aground, it being almost low water, and so by oars to the town, and there dined, and then to the yard at Mr. Ackworth’s, discoursing with the officers of the yard about their stores of masts, which was our chief business, and having done something therein, took boat and to the pleasure boat, which was come down to fetch us back, and I could have been sick if I would in going, the wind being very fresh, but very pleasant it was, and the first time I have sailed in any one of them. It carried us to Cuckold’s Point, and so by oars to the Temple, it raining hard, where missed speaking with my cousin Roger, and so walked home and to my office; there spent the night till bed time, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Sir J. Minnes (most of the rest being at the Parliament-house), all the morning answering petitions and other business. Towards noon there comes a man in as if upon ordinary business, and shows me a writ from the Exchequer, called a Commission of Rebellion, and tells me that I am his prisoner in Field’s business; which methought did strike me to the heart, to think that we could not sit in the middle of the King’s business. I told him how and where we were employed, and bid him have a care; and perceiving that we were busy, he said he would, and did withdraw for an hour: in which time Sir J. Minnes took coach and to Court, to see what he could do from thence; and our solicitor against Field came by chance and told me that he would go and satisfy the fees of the Court, and would end the business. So he went away about that, and I stayed in my closet, till by and by the man and four more of his fellows came to know what I would do; I told them stay till I heard from the King or my Lord Chief Baron, to both whom I had now sent. With that they consulted, and told me that if I would promise to stay in the house they would go and refresh themselves, and come again, and know what answer I had: so they away, and I home to dinner, whither by chance comes Mr. Hawley and dined with me. Before I had dined, the baileys come back again with the constable, and at the office knock for me, but found me not there; and I hearing in what manner they were come, did forbear letting them know where I was; so they stood knocking and enquiring for me. By and by at my parlor-window comes Sir W. Batten’s Mungo, to tell me that his master and lady would have me come to their house through Sir J. Minnes’s lodgings, which I could not do; but, however, by ladders, did get over the pale between our yards, and so to their house, where I found them (as they have reason) to be much concerned for me, my lady especially. The fellows stayed in the yard swearing with one or two constables, and some time we locked them into the yard, and by and by let them out again, and so kept them all the afternoon, not letting them see me, or know where I was. One time I went up to the top of Sir W. Batten’s house, and out of one of their windows spoke to my wife out of one of ours; which methought, though I did it in mirth, yet I was sad to think what a sad thing it would be for me to be really in that condition. By and by comes Sir J. Minnes, who (like himself and all that he do) tells us that he can do no good, but that my Lord Chancellor wonders that we did not cause the seamen to fall about their ears: which we wished we could have done without our being seen in it; and Captain Grove being there, he did give them some affront, and would have got some seamen to have drubbed them, but he had not time, nor did we think it fit to have done it, they having executed their commission; but there was occasion given that he did draw upon one of them and he did complain that Grove had pricked him in the breast, but no hurt done; but I see that Grove would have done our business to them if we had bid him. By and by comes Mr. Clerke, our solicitor, who brings us a release from our adverse attorney, we paying the fees of the commission, which comes to five marks, and pay the charges of these fellows, which are called the commissioners, but are the most rake-shamed rogues that ever I saw in my life; so he showed them this release, and they seemed satisfied, and went away with him to their attorney to be paid by him. But before they went, Sir W. Batten and my lady did begin to taunt them, but the rogues answered them as high as themselves, and swore they would come again, and called me rogue and rebel, and they would bring the sheriff and untile his house, before he should harbour a rebel in his house, and that they would be here again shortly. Well, at last they went away, and I by advice took occasion to go abroad, and walked through the street to show myself among the neighbours, that they might not think worse than the business is. Being met by Captn. Taylor and Bowry, whose ship we have hired for Tangier, they walked along with me to Cornhill talking about their business, and after some difference about their prices we agreed, and so they would have me to a tavern, and there I drank one glass of wine and discoursed of something about freight of a ship that may bring me a little money, and so broke up, and I home to Sir W. Batten’s again, where Sir J. Lawson, Captain Allen, Spragg,1703 and several others, and all our discourse about the disgrace done to our office to be liable to this trouble, which we must get removed. Hither comes Mr. Clerke by and by, and tells me that he hath paid the fees of the Court for the commission; but the men are not contented with under £5 for their charges, which he will not give them, and therefore advises me not to stir abroad till Monday that he comes or sends to me again, whereby I shall not be able to go to Whitehall to the Duke of York, as I ought. Here I stayed vexing, and yet pleased to see everybody, man and woman, my Lady and Mr. Turner especially, for me, till 10 at night; and so home, where my people are mightily surprised to see this business, but it troubles me not very much, it being nothing touching my particular person or estate. Being in talk today with Sir W. Batten he tells me that little is done yet in the Parliament-house, but only this day it was moved and ordered that all the members of the House do subscribe to the renouncing of the Covenant, which is thought will try some of them. There is also a bill brought in for the wearing of nothing but cloth or stuffs of our own manufacture, and is likely to be passed. Among other talk this evening, my lady did speak concerning Commissioner Pett’s calling the present King bastard, and other high words heretofore; and Sir W. Batten did tell us, that he did give the Duke or Mr. Coventry an account of that and other like matters in writing under oath, of which I was ashamed, and for which I was sorry, but I see there is an absolute hatred never to be altered there, and Sir J. Minnes, the old coxcomb, has got it by the end, which troubles me for the sake of the King’s service, though I do truly hate the expressions laid to him. To my office and set down this day’s journal, and so home with my mind out of order, though not very sad with it, but ashamed for myself something, and for the honour of the office much more. So home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed and went not out all day; but after dinner to Sir W. Batten’s and Sir W. Penn’s, where discoursing much of yesterday’s trouble and scandal; but that which troubled me most was Sir J. Minnes coming from Court at night, and instead of bringing great comfort from thence (but I expected no better from him), he tells me that the Duke and Mr. Coventry make no great matter of it. So at night discontented to prayers, and to bed.
. Up by times; and not daring to go by land, did (Griffin going along with me for fear), slip to Whitehall by water; where to Mr. Coventry, and, as we used to do, to the Duke; the other of my fellows being come. But we said nothing of our business, the Duke being sent for to the King, that he could not stay to speak with us. This morning came my Lord Windsor1704 to kiss the Duke’s hand, being returned from Jamaica. He tells the Duke, that from such a degree of latitude going thither he begun to be sick, and was never well till his coming so far back again, and then presently begun to be well. He told the Duke of their taking the fort of St. Jago, upon Cuba, by his men; but, upon the whole, I believe that he did matters like a young lord, and was weary of being upon service out of his own country, where he might have pleasure. For methought it was a shame to see him this very afternoon, being the first day of his coming to town, to be at a playhouse. Thence to my Lord Sandwich, who though he has been abroad again two or three days is falling ill again, and is let blood this morning, though I hope it is only a great cold that he has got. It was a great trouble to me (and I had great apprehensions of it) that my Lord desired me to go to Westminster Hall, to the Parliament-house door, about business; and to Sir Wm. Wheeler, which I told him I would do, but durst not go for fear of being taken by these rogues; but was forced to go to Whitehall and take boat, and so land below the Tower at the Iron-gate; and so the back way over Little Tower Hill; and with my cloak over my face, took one of the watermen along with me, and stayed behind a wall in the New-buildings behind our garden, while he went to see whether anybody stood within the Merchants’ Gate, under which we pass to go into our garden, and there standing but a little dirty boy before the gate, did make me quake and sweat to think he might be a Trepan. But there was nobody, and so I got safe into the garden, and coming to open my office door, something behind it fell in the opening, which made me start. So that God knows in what a sad condition I should be in if I were truly in the condition that many a poor man is for debt: and therefore ought to bless God that I have no such real reason, and to endeavour to keep myself, by my good deportment and good husbandry, out of any such condition. At home I found Mr. Creed with my wife, and so he dined with us, I finding by a note that Mr. Clerke in my absence hath left here, that I am free; and that he hath stopped all matters in Court; I was very glad of it, and immediately had a light thought of taking pleasure to rejoice my heart, and so resolved to take my wife to a play at Court tonight, and the rather because it is my birthday, being this day thirty years old, for which let me praise God. While my wife dressed herself, Creed and I walked out to see what play was acted today, and we find it The Slighted Maid.1705 But, Lord! to see that though I did know myself to be out of danger, yet I durst not go through the street, but round by the garden into Tower Street. By and by took coach, and to the Duke’s house, where we saw it well acted, though the play hath little good in it, being most pleased to see the little girl dance in boy’s apparel, she having very fine legs, only bends in the hams, as I perceive all women do. The play being done, we took coach and to Court, and there got good places, and saw The Wilde Gallant,1706 performed by the King’s house, but it was ill acted, and the play so poor a thing as I never saw in my life almost, and so little answering the name, that from beginning to end, I could not, nor can at this time, tell certainly which was the Wild Gallant. The King did not seem pleased at all, all the whole play, nor anybody else, though Mr. Clerke whom we met here did commend it to us. My Lady Castlemaine was all worth seeing tonight, and little Steward.1707 Mrs. Wells do appear at Court again, and looks well; so that, it may be, the late report of laying the dropped child to her was not true. It being done, we got a coach and got well home about 12 at night. Now as my mind was but very ill satisfied with these two plays themselves, so was I in the midst of them sad to think of the spending so much money and venturing upon the breach of my vow, which I found myself sorry for, I bless God, though my nature would well be contented to follow the pleasure still. But I did make payment of my forfeiture presently, though I hope to save it back again by forbearing two plays at Court for this one at the Theatre, or else to forbear that to the Theatre which I am to have at Easter. But it being my birthday and my day of liberty regained to me, and lastly, the last play that is likely to be acted at Court before Easter, because of the Lent coming in, I was the easier content to fling away so much money.1708 So to bed. This day I was told that my Lady Castlemaine hath all the King’s Christmas presents, made him by the peers, given to her, which is a most abominable thing; and that at the great ball she was much richer in jewels than the Queen and Duchess put both together.
. Slept hard till 8 o’clock, then waked by Mr. Clerke’s being come to consult me about Field’s business, which we did by calling him up to my bedside, and he says we shall trounce him. Then up, and to the office, and at 11 o’clock by water to Westminster, and to Sir W. Wheeler’s about my Lord’s borrowing of money that I was lately upon with him, and then to my Lord, who continues ill, but will do well I doubt not. Among other things, he tells me that he hears the Commons will not agree to the King’s late declaration, nor will yield that the Papists have any ground given them to raise themselves up again in England, which I perceive by my Lord was expected at Court. Thence home again by water presently, and with a bad dinner, being not looked for, to the office, and there we sat, and then Captn. Cocke and I upon his hemp accounts till 9 at night, and then, I not very well, home to supper and to bed. My late distemper of heat and itching being come upon me again, so that I must think of sweating again as I did before.
. Up and to my office, where with Captain Cocke making an end of his last night’s accounts till noon, and so home to dinner, my wife being come in from laying out about £4 in provision of several things against Lent. In the afternoon to the Temple, my brother’s, the Wardrobe, to Mr. Moore, and other places, called at about small businesses, and so at night home to my office and then to supper and to bed. The Commons in Parliament, I hear, are very high to stand to the Act of Uniformity, and will not indulge the Papists (which is endeavoured by the Court Party) nor the Presbyters.
. Up and drinking a draught of wormewood wine with Sir W. Batten at the Steelyard, he and I by water to the Parliament-house: he went in, and I walked up and down the Hall. All the news is the great odds yesterday in the votes between them that are for the Indulgence to the Papists and Presbyters, and those that are against it, which did carry it by 200 against 30. And pretty it is to consider how the King would appear to be a stiff Protestant and son of the Church; and yet would appear willing to give a liberty to these people, because of his promise at Breda. And yet all the world do believe that the King would not have this liberty given them at all. Thence to my Lord’s, who, I hear, has his ague again, for which I am sorry, and Creed and I to the King’s Head ordinary, where much good company. Among the rest a young gallant lately come from France, who was full of his French, but methought not very good, but he had enough to make him think himself a wise man a great while. Thence by water from the New Exchange home to the Tower, and so sat at the office, and then writing letters till 11 at night. Troubled this evening that my wife is not come home from Chelsey, whither she is gone to see the play at the school where Ashwell is, but she came at last, it seems, by water, and tells me she is much pleased with Ashwell’s acting and carriage, which I am glad of. So home and to supper and bed.
. Up and to my office, whither several persons came to me about office business. About 11 o’clock, Commissioner Pett and I walked to Chirurgeon’s Hall1709 (we being all invited thither, and promised to dine there); where we were led into the Theatre; and by and by comes the reader, Dr. Tearne,1710 with the Master and Company, in a very handsome manner: and all being settled, he begun his lecture, this being the second upon the kidneys, ureters, etc., which was very fine; and his discourse being ended, we walked into the Hall, and there being great store of company, we had a fine dinner and good learned company, many Doctors of Physic, and we used with extraordinary great respect. Among other observables we drank the King’s health out of a gilt cup given by King Henry VIII to this Company, with bells hanging at it, which every man is to ring by shaking after he hath drunk up the whole cup. There is also a very excellent piece of the King, done by Holbein, stands up in the Hall, with the officers of the Company kneeling to him to receive their Charter.1711 After dinner Dr. Scarborough took some of his friends, and I went along with them, to see the body alone, which we did, which was a lusty fellow, a seaman, that was hanged for a robbery. I did touch the dead body with my bare hand: it felt cold, but methought it was a very unpleasant sight. It seems one Dillon, of a great family, was, after much endeavours to have saved him, hanged with a silken halter this Sessions (of his own preparing), not for honour only, but it seems, it being soft and sleek, it do slip close and kills, that is, strangles presently: whereas, a stiff one do not come so close together, and so the party may live the longer before killed. But all the Doctors at table conclude, that there is no pain at all in hanging, for that it do stop the circulation of the blood; and so stops all sense and motion in an instant. Thence we went into a private room, where I perceive they prepare the bodies, and there were the kidneys, ureters [etc.], upon which he read today, and Dr. Scarborough upon my desire and the company’s did show very clearly the manner of the disease of the stone and the cutting and all other questions that I could think of … how the water [comes] into the bladder through the three skins or coats just as poor Dr. Jolly has heretofore told me. Thence with great satisfaction to me back to the Company, where I heard good discourse, and so to the afternoon Lecture upon the heart and lungs, etc., and that being done we broke up, took leave, and back to the office, we two, Sir W. Batten, who dined here also, being gone before. Here late, and to Sir W. Batten’s to speak upon some business, where I found Sir J. Minnes pretty well fuddled I thought: he took me aside to tell me how being at my Lord Chancellor’s today, my Lord told him that there was a Great Seal passing for Sir W. Penn, through the impossibility of the Comptroller’s duty to be performed by one man; to be as it were joint-comptroller with him, at which he is stark mad; and swears he will give up his place, and do rail at Sir W. Penn the cruellest; he I made shift to encourage as much as I could, but it pleased me heartily to hear him rail against him, so that I do see thoroughly that they are not like to be great friends, for he cries out against him for his house and yard and God knows what. For my part, I do hope, when all is done, that my following my business will keep me secure against all their envies. But to see how the old man do strut, and swear that he understands all his duty as easily as crack a nut, and easier, he told my Lord Chancellor, for his teeth are gone; and that he understands it as well as any man in England; and that he will never leave to record that he should be said to be unable to do his duty alone; though, God knows, he cannot do it more than a child. All this I am glad to see fall out between them and myself safe, and yet I hope the King’s service well done for all this, for I would not that should be hindered by any of our private differences. So to my office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Waked with great pain in my right ear (which I find myself much subject to) having taken cold. Up and to my office, where we sat all the morning, and I dined with Sir W. Batten by chance, being in business together about a bargain of New England masts. Then to the Temple to meet my uncle Thomas, who I found there, but my cousin Roger not being come home I took boat and to Westminster, where I found him in Parliament this afternoon. The House have this noon been with the King to give him their reasons for refusing to grant any indulgence to Presbyters or Papists; which he, with great content and seeming pleasure, took, saying, that he doubted not but he and they should agree in all things, though there may seem a difference in judgement, he having writ and declared for an indulgence: and that he did believe never prince was happier in a House of Commons, than he was in them. Thence he and I to my Lord Sandwich, who continues troubled with his cold. Our discourse most upon the outing of Sir R. Bernard, and my Lord’s being made Recorder of Huntingdon in his stead, which he seems well contented with, saying, that it may be for his convenience to have the chief officer of the town dependent upon him, which is very true. Thence he and I to the Temple, but my uncle being gone we parted, and I walked home, and to my office, and at nine o’clock had a good supper of an oxe’s cheek, of my wife’s dressing and baking, and so to my office again till past eleven at night, making up my month’s account, and find that I am at a stay with what I was last, that is £640. So home and to bed. Coming by, I put in at Whitehall, and at the Privy Seal I did see the docquet by which Sir W. Penn is made the Comptroller’s assistant, as Sir J. Minnes told me last night, which I must endeavour to prevent.
March 1662–63
. Up and walked to Whitehall, to the Chapel, where preached one Dr. Lewes, said heretofore to have been a great wit; but he read his sermon every word, and that so brokenly and so low, that nobody could hear at any distance, nor I anything worth hearing that sat near. But, which was strange, he forgot to make any prayer before sermon, which all wonder at, but they impute it to his forgetfulness. After sermon a very fine anthem; so I up into the house among the courtiers, seeing the fine ladies, and, above all, my Lady Castlemaine, who is above all, that only she I can observe for true beauty. The King and Queen being set to dinner I went to Mr. Fox’s, and there dined with him. Much genteel company, and, among other things, I hear for certain that peace is concluded between the King of France and the Pope; and also I heard the reasons given by our Parliament yesterday to the King why they dissent from him in matter of Indulgence, which are very good quite through, and which I was glad to hear. Thence to my Lord Sandwich, who continues with a great cold, locked up; and, being alone, we fell into discourse of my uncle the Captain’s death and estate, and I took the opportunity of telling my Lord how matters stand, and read his will, and told him all, what a poor estate he hath left, at all which he wonders strangely, which he may well do. Thence after singing some new tunes with W. Howe I walked home, whither came Will. Joyce, whom I have not seen here a great while, nor desire it a great while again, he is so impertinent a coxcomb, and yet good natured, and mightily concerned for my brother’s late folly in his late wooing at the charge to no purpose, nor could in any probability expect it. He gone, we all to bed, without prayers, it being washing day tomorrow.
. Up early and by water with Commissioner Pett to Deptford, and there took the Jemmy yacht (that the King and the Lords virtuosos built the other day)1712 down to Woolwich, where we discoursed of several matters both there and at the Ropeyard, and so to the yacht again, and went down four or five miles with extraordinary pleasure, it being a fine day, and a brave gale of wind, and had some oysters brought us aboard newly taken, which were excellent, and ate with great pleasure. There also coming into the river two Dutchmen, we sent a couple of men on board and bought three Hollands cheeses, cost 4d. a piece, excellent cheeses, whereof I had two and Commissioner Pett one. So back again to Woolwich, and going aboard the Hulke to see the manner of the iron bridles, which we are making of for to save cordage to put to the chain, I did fall from the shipside into the ship (Kent), and had like to have broke my left hand, but I only sprained some of my fingers, which, when I came ashore I sent to Mrs. Ackworth for some balsam, and put to my hand, and was pretty well within a little while after. We dined at the White Hart with several officers with us, and after dinner went and saw the Royal James brought down to the stern of the Docke (the main business we came for), and then to the Ropeyard, and saw a trial between Riga hemp and a sort of Indian grass, which is pretty strong, but no comparison between it and the other for strength, and it is doubtful whether it will take tar or no. So to the yacht again, and carried us almost to London, so by our oars home to the office, and thence Mr. Pett and I to Mr. Grant’s coffeehouse, whither he and Sir J. Cutler came to us and had much discourse, mixed discourse, and so broke up, and so home where I found my poor wife all alone at work, and the house foul, it being washing day, which troubled me, because that tomorrow I must be forced to have friends at dinner. So to my office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and walked to the Temple, and by promise calling Commissioner Pett, he and I to Whitehall to give Mr. Coventry an account of what we did yesterday. Thence I to the Privy Seal Office, and there got a copy of Sir W. Penn’s grant to be assistant to Sir J. Minnes, Comptroller, which, though there be not much in it, yet I intend to stir up Sir J. Minnes to oppose, only to vex Sir W. Penn. Thence by water home, and at noon, by promise, Mrs. Turner and her daughter, and Mrs. Morrice, came along with Roger Pepys to dinner. We were as merry as I could be, having but a bad dinner for them; but so much the better, because of the dinner which I must have at the end of this month. And here Mrs. The. showed me my name upon her breast as her Valentine, which will cost me 20s. After dinner I took them down into the wine-cellar, and broached my tierce of claret for them. Towards the evening we parted, and I to the office awhile, and then home to supper and to bed, the sooner having taken some cold yesterday upon the water, which brings me my usual pain. This afternoon Roger Pepys tells me, that for certain the King is for all this very highly incensed at the Parliament’s late opposing the Indulgence; which I am sorry for, and fear it will breed great discontent.
. Lay long talking with my wife about ordering things in our family, and then rose and to my office, there collecting an alphabet for my Navy Manuscript, which, after a short dinner, I returned to and by night perfected to my great content. So to other business till 9 at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Rose this morning early, only to try with intention to begin my last summer’s course in rising betimes. So to my office a little, and then to Westminster by coach with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, in our way talking of Sir W. Penn’s business of his patent, which I think I have put a stop to wholly, for Sir J. Minnes swears he will never consent to it.1713 Here to the Lobby, and spoke with my cousin Roger, who is going to Cambridge tomorrow. In the Hall I do hear that the Catholics are in great hopes for all this, and do set hard upon the King to get Indulgence. Matters, I hear, are all naught in Ireland, and that the Parliament has voted, and the people, that is, the Papists, do cry out against the Commissioners sent by the King; so that they say the English interest will be lost there. Thence I went to see my Lord Sandwich, who I found very ill, and by his cold being several nights hindered from sleep, he is hardly able to open his eyes, and is very weak and sad upon it, which troubled me much. So after talking with Mr. Cooke, whom I found there, about his folly for looking and troubling me and other friends in getting him a place (that is, storekeeper of the Navy at Tangier) before there is any such thing, I returned to the Hall, and thence back with the two knights home again by coach, where I found Mr. Moore got abroad, and dined with me, which I was glad to see, he having not been able to go abroad a great while. Then came in Mr. Hawley and dined with us, and after dinner I left them, and to the office, where we sat late, and I do find that I shall meet with nothing to oppose my growing great in the office but Sir W. Penn, who is now well again, and comes into the office very brisk, and, I think, to get up his time that he has been out of the way by being mighty diligent at the office, which, I pray God, he may be, but I hope by mine to weary him out, for I am resolved to fall to business as hard as I can drive, God giving me health. At my office late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and about eight o’clock by coach with four horses, with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, to Woolwich, a pleasant day. There at the yard we consulted and ordered several matters, and thence to the rope yard and did the like, and so into Mr. Falconer’s, where we had some fish, which we brought with us, dressed; and there dined with us his new wife, which had been his maid, but seems to be a genteel woman, well enough bred and discreet. Thence after dinner back to Deptford, where we did as before, and so home, good discourse in our way, Sir J. Minnes being good company, though a simple man enough as to the business of his office, but we did discourse at large again about Sir W. Penn’s patent to be his assistant, and I perceive he is resolved never to let it pass. To my office, and thence to Sir W. Batten’s, where Major Holmes was lately come from the Streights, but do tell me strange stories of the faults of Cooper1714 his master, put in by me, which I do not believe, but am sorry to hear and must take some course to have him removed, though I believe that the Captain is proud, and the fellow is not supple enough to him. So to my office again to set down my Journal, and so home and to bed. This evening my boy Waynman’s brother was with me, and I did tell him again that I must part with the boy, for I will not keep him. He desires my keeping him a little longer till he can provide for him, which I am willing for a while to do. This day it seems the House of Commons have been very high against the Papists, being incensed by the stir which they make for their having an Indulgence; which, without doubt, is a great folly in them to be so hot upon at this time, when they see how averse already the House have showed themselves from it. This evening Mr. Povy was with me at my office, and tells me that my Lord Sandwich is this day so ill that he is much afeard of him, which puts me to great pain, not more for my own sake than for his poor family’s.
. Up betimes, and to the office, where some of us sat all the morning. At noon Sir W. Penn began to talk with me like a counterfeit rogue very kindly about his house and getting bills signed for all our works, but he is a cheating fellow, and so I let him talk and answered nothing. So we parted. I to dinner, and there met The. Turner, who is come on foot in a frolic to beg me to get a place at sea for John, their man, which is a rogue; but, however, it may be, the sea may do him good in reclaiming him, and therefore I will see what I can do. She dined with me; and after dinner I took coach, and carried her home; in our way, in Cheapside, ’lighting and giving her a dozen pair of white gloves as my Valentine. Thence to my Lord Sandwich, who is gone to Sir W. Wheeler’s for his more quiet being, where he slept well last night, and I took him very merry, playing at cards, and much company with him. So I left him, and Creed and I to Westminster Hall, and there walked a good while. He told me how for some words of my Lady Gerard’s1715 against my Lady Castlemaine to the Queen, the King did the other day affront her in going out to dance with her at a ball, when she desired it as the ladies do, and is since forbid attending the Queen by the King; which is much talked of, my Lord her husband being a great favourite. Thence by water home and to my office, wrote by the post and so home to bed.
. Being sent to by Sir J. Minnes to know whether I would go with him to Whitehall today, I rose but could not get ready before he was gone, but however I walked thither and heard Dr. King, Bishop of Chichester, make a good and eloquent sermon upon these words, “They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.” Thence (the chapel in Lent being hung with black, and no anthem sung after sermon, as at other times), to my Lord Sandwich at Sir W. Wheeler’s. I found him out of order, thinking himself to be in a fit of an ague, but in the afternoon he was very cheery. I dined with Sir William, where a good but short dinner, not better than one of mine commonly of a Sunday. After dinner up to my Lord, there being Mr. Rumball. My Lord, among other discourse, did tell us of his great difficulties passed in the business of the Sound, and of his receiving letters from the King there, but his sending them by Whetstone was a great folly; and the story how my Lord being at dinner with Sydney,1716 one of his fellow plenipotentiaries and his mortal enemy, did see Whetstone, and put off his hat three times to him, but the fellow would not be known, which my Lord imputed to his coxcombly humour (of which he was full), and bid Sydney take notice of him too, when at the very time he had letters1717 in his pocket from the King, as it proved afterwards. And Sydney afterwards did find it out at Copenhagen, the Dutch Commissioners telling him how my Lord Sandwich had hired one of their ships to carry back Whetstone to Lubeck, he being come from Flanders from the King. But I cannot but remember my Lord’s æquanimity in all these affairs with admiration. Thence walked home, in my way meeting Mr. Moore, with whom I took a turn or two in the street among the drapers in Paul’s Churchyard, talking of business, and so home to bed.
. Up betimes, to my office, where all the morning. About noon Sir J. Robinson, Lord Mayor, desiring way through the garden from the Tower, called in at the office and there invited me (and Sir W. Penn, who happened to be in the way) to dinner, which we did; and there had a great Lent dinner of fish, little flesh. And thence he and I in his coach, against my will (for I am resolved to shun too great fellowship with him) to Whitehall, but came too late, the Duke having been with our fellow officers before we came, for which I was sorry. Thence he and I to walk one turn in the Park, and so home by coach, and I to my office, where late, and so home to supper and bed. There dined with us today Mr. Slingsby,1718 of the Mint, who showed us all the new pieces both gold and silver (examples of them all), that are made for the King, by Blondeau’s1719 way; and compared them with those made for Oliver. The pictures of the latter made by Symons,1720 and of the King by one Rotyr,1721 a German, I think, that dined with us also. He extolls those of Rotyr’s above the others; and, indeed, I think they are the better, because the sweeter of the two; but, upon my word, those of the Protector are more like in my mind, than the King’s, but both very well worth seeing. The crowns of Cromwell are now sold, it seems, for 25s. and 30s. apiece.1722
. Up and to my office all the morning, and great pleasure it is to be doing my business betimes. About noon Sir J. Minnes came to me and stayed half an hour with me in my office talking about his business with Sir W. Penn, and (though with me an old doter) yet he told me freely how sensible he is of Sir W. Penn’s treachery in this business, and what poor ways he has taken all along to ingratiate himself by making Mr. Turner write out things for him and then he gives them to the Duke, and how he directed him to give Mr. Coventry £100 for his place, but that Mr. Coventry did give him £20 back again. All this I am pleased to hear that his knavery is found out. Dined upon a poor Lenten dinner at home, my wife being vexed at a fray this morning with my Lady Batten about my boy’s going thither to turn the watercock with their maids’ leave, but my Lady was mighty high upon it and she would teach his mistress better manners, which my wife answered aloud that she might hear, that she could learn little manners of her. After dinner to my office, and there we sat all the afternoon till 8 at night, and so wrote my letters by the post and so before 9 home, which is rare with me of late, I staying longer, but with multitude of business my head aches, and so I can stay no longer, but home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and to my office, walked a little in the garden with Sir W. Batten, talking about the difference between his Lady and my wife yesterday, and I doubt my wife is to blame. About noon had news by Mr. Wood that Butler, our chief witness against Field, was sent by him to New England contrary to our desire, which made me mad almost; and so Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Penn, and I dined together at Trinity House, and thither sent for him to us and told him our minds, which he seemed not to value much, but went away. I wrote and sent an express to Walthamstow to Sir W. Penn, who is gone thither this morning, to tell him of it. However, in the afternoon Wood sends us word that he has appointed another to go, who shall overtake the ship in the Downs. So I was late at the office, among other things writing to the Downs, to the Commander-in-Chief, and putting things into the surest course I could to help the business. So home and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office all the morning with Captain Cocke ending their account of their Riga contract for hemp. So home to dinner, my head full of business against the office. After dinner comes my uncle Thomas with a letter to my father, wherein, as we desire, he and his son do order their tenants to pay their rents to us, which pleases me well. In discourse he tells me my uncle Wight thinks much that I do never see them, and they have reason, but I do apprehend that they have been too far concerned with my uncle Thomas against us, so that I have had no mind hitherto, but now I shall go see them. He being gone, I to the office, where at the choice of maisters and chirurgeons for the fleet now going out, I did my business as I could wish, both for the persons I had a mind to serve, and in getting the warrants signed drawn by my clerks, which I was afeard of. Sat late, and having done I went home, where I found Mary Ashwell come to live with us, of whom I hope well, and pray God she may please us, which, though it cost me something, yet will give me much content. So to supper and to bed, and find by her discourse and carriage tonight that she is not proud, but will do what she is bid, but for want of being abroad knows not how to give the respect to her mistress, as she will do when she is told it, she having been used only to little children, and there was a kind of a mistress over them. Troubled all night with my cold, I being quite hoarse with it that I could not speak to be heard at all almost.
. Up pretty early and to my office all the morning busy. At noon home to dinner expecting Ashwell’s father, who was here in the morning and promised to come but he did not, but there came in Captain Grove, and I found him to be a very stout man, at least in his discourse he would be thought so, and I do think that he is, and one that bears me great respect and deserves to be encouraged for his care in all business. Abroad by water with my wife and Ashwell, and left them at Mr. Pierce’s, and I to Whitehall and St. James’s Park (there being no Commission for Tangier sitting today as I looked for) where I walked an hour or two with great pleasure, it being a most pleasant day. So to Mrs. Hunt’s, and there found my wife, and so took them up by coach, and carried them to Hide Park, where store of coaches and good faces. Here till night, and so home and to my office to write by the post, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where we sat all the morning, and a great rant I did give to Mr. Davis, of Deptford, and others about their usage of Michell, in his Bewpers1723 which he serves in for flags, which did trouble me, but yet it was in defence of what was truth. So home to dinner, where Creed dined with me, and walked a good while in the garden with me after dinner, talking, among other things, of the poor service which Sir J. Lawson did really do in the Streights, for which all this great fame and honour done him is risen. So to my office, where all the afternoon giving maisters their warrants for this voyage, for which I hope hereafter to get something at their coming home. In the evening my wife and I and Ashwell walked in the garden, and I find she is a pretty ingenuous1724 girl at all sorts of fine work, which pleases me very well, and I hope will be very good entertainment for my wife without much cost. So to write by the post, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and with my wife and her woman Ashwell the first time to church, where our pew was so full with Sir J. Minnes’s sister and her daughter, that I perceive, when we come all together, some of us must be shut out, but I suppose we shall come to some order what to do therein. Dined at home, and to church again in the afternoon, and so home, and I to my office till the evening doing one thing or other and reading my vows as I am bound every Lord’s day, and so home to supper and talk, and Ashwell is such good company that I think we shall be very lucky in her. So to prayers and to bed. This day the weather, which of late has been very hot and fair, turns very wet and cold, and all the church time this afternoon it thundered mightily, which I have not heard a great while.
. Up very betimes and to my office, where, with several Masters of the King’s ships, Sir J. Minnes and I advising upon the business of Slops, wherein the seaman is so much abused by the Pursers, and that being done, then I home to dinner, and so carried my wife to her mother’s, set her down and Ashwell to my Lord’s lodging, there left her, and I to the Duke, where we met of course, and talked of our Navy matters. Then to the Commission of Tangier, and there, among other things, had my Lord Peterborough’s Commission read over; and Mr. Secretary Bennet did make his queries upon it, in order to the drawing one for my Lord Rutherford more regularly, that being a very extravagant thing. Here long discoursing upon my Lord Rutherford’s despatch, and so broke up, and so going out of the Court I met with Mr. Coventry, and so he and I walked half an hour in the long Stone Gallery, where we discoursed of many things, among others how the Treasurer doth intend to come to pay in course, which is the thing of the world that will do the King the greatest service in the Navy, and which joys my heart to hear of. He tells me of the business of Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Penn, which I knew before, but took no notice or little that I did know it. But he told me it was chiefly to make Mr. Pett’s being joined with Sir W. Batten to go down the better, and do tell me how he well sees that neither one nor the other can do their duties without help. But however will let it fall at present without doing more in it to see whether they will do their duties themselves, which he will see, and saith they do not. We discoursed of many other things to my great content and so parted, and I to my wife at my Lord’s lodgings, where I heard Ashwell play first upon the harpsicon, and I find she do play pretty well, which pleaseth me very well. Thence home by coach, buying at the Temple the printed virginal-book for her, and so home and to my office a while, and so home and to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office a while, and then home and to Sir W. Batten, with whom by coach to St. Margaret’s Hill in Southwark,1725 where the judge of the Admiralty came, and the rest of the Doctors of the Civil law, and some other Commissioners, whose Commission of Oyer and Terminer was read, and then the charge, given by Dr. Exton,1726 which methought was somewhat dull, though he would seem to intend it to be very rhetoricall, saying that justice had two wings, one of which spread itself over the land, and the other over the water, which was this Admiralty Court. That being done, and the jury called, they broke up, and to dinner to a tavern hard by, where a great dinner, and I with them; but I perceive that this Court is yet but in its infancy (as to its rising again), and their design and consultation was, I could overhear them, how to proceed with the most solemnity, and spend time, there being only two businesses to do, which of themselves could not spend much time. In the afternoon to the court again, where, first, Abraham, the boatswain of the King’s pleasure boat, was tried for drowning a man; and next, Turpin, accused by our wicked rogue Field, for stealing the King’s timber; but after full examination, they were both acquitted, and as I was glad of the first, for the saving the man’s life, so I did take the other as a very good fortune to us; for if Turpin had been found guilty, it would have sounded very ill in the ears of all the world, in the business between Field and us. So home with my mind at very great ease, over the water to the Tower, and thence, there being nobody at the office, we being absent, and so no office could be kept. Sir W. Batten and I to my Lord Mayor’s,1727 where we found my Lord with Colonel Strangways1728 and Sir Richard Floyd,1729 Parliament-men, in the cellar drinking, where we sat with them, and then up; and by and by comes in Sir Richard Ford. In our drinking, which was always going, we had many discourses, but from all of them I do find Sir R. Ford a very able man of his brains and tongue, and a scholler. But my Lord Mayor I find to be a talking, bragging Bufflehead,1730 a fellow that would be thought to have led all the City in the great business of bringing in the King, and that nobody understood his plots, and the dark lantern he walked by; but led them and plowed with them as oxen and asses (his own words) to do what he had a mind when in every discourse I observe him to be as very a coxcomb as I could have thought had been in the City. But he is resolved to do great matters in pulling down the shops quite through the City, as he hath done in many places, and will make a thorough passage quite through the City, through Canning-street,1731 which indeed will be very fine. And then his precept, which he, in vainglory, said he had drawn up himself, and hath printed it, against coachmen and carrmen affronting of the gentry in the street; it is drawn so like a fool, and some faults were openly found in it, that I believe he will have so much wit as not to proceed upon it though it be printed. Here we stayed talking till eleven at night, Sir R. Ford breaking to my Lord our business of our patent to be justices of the Peace in the City, which he stuck at mightily; but, however, Sir R. Ford knows him to be a fool, and so in his discourse he made him appear, and cajoled him into a consent to it: but so as I believe when he comes to his right mind tomorrow he will be of another opinion; and though Sir R. Ford moved it very weightily and neatly, yet I had rather it had been spared now. But to see how he do rant, and pretend to sway all the City in the Court of Aldermen, and says plainly that they cannot do, nor will he suffer them to do, anything but what he pleases; nor is there any officer of the City but of his putting in; nor any man that could have kept the City for the King thus well and long but him. And if the country can be preserved, he will undertake that the City shall not dare to stir again. When I am confident there is no man almost in the City cares a turd for him, nor hath he brains to outwit any ordinary tradesman. So home and wrote a letter to Commissioner Pett to Chatham by all means to compose the business between Major Holmes and Cooper his master, and so to bed.
. Wake betimes and talk a while with my wife about a wench that she has hired yesterday, which I would have enquired of before she comes, she having lived in great families, and so up and to my office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner. After dinner by water to Redriffe, my wife and Ashwell with me, and so walked and left them at Halfway house; I to Deptford, where up and down the storehouses, and on board two or three ships now getting ready to go to sea, and so back, and find my wife walking in the way. So home again, merry with our Ashwell, who is a merry jade, and so awhile to my office, and then home to supper, and to bed. This day my triangle, which was put in tune yesterday, did please me very well, Ashwell playing upon it pretty well.
. Up betimes and to Woolwich all alone by water, where took the officers most abed. I walked and enquired how all matters and businesses go, and by and by to the Clerk of the Cheque’s house, and there eat some of his good Jamaica brawne, and so walked to Greenwich. Part of the way Deane walking with me; talking of the pride and corruption of most of his fellow officers of the yard, and which I believe to be true. So to Deptford, where I did the same to great content, and see the people begin to value me as they do the rest. At noon Mr. Wayth took me to his house, where I dined, and saw his wife, a pretty woman, and had a good fish dinner, and after dinner he and I walked to Redriffe talking of several errors in the Navy, by which I learned a great deal, and was glad of his company. So by water home, and by and by to the office, where we sat till almost 9 at night. So after doing my own business in my office, writing letters, etc., home to supper, and to bed, being weary and vexed that I do not find other people so willing to do business as myself, when I have taken pains to find out what in the yards is wanting and fitting to be done.
. Up betimes and over the water, and walked to Deptford, where up and down the yarde, and met the two clerks of the Cheques to conclude by our method their callbooks, which we have done to great perfection, and so walked home again, where I found my wife in great pain abed. … I stayed and dined by her, and after dinner walked forth, and by water to the Temple, and in Fleet Street bought me a little sword, with gilt handle, cost 23s., and silk stockings to the colour of my riding cloth suit, cost 15s., and bought me a belt there too, cost 15s., and so calling at my brother’s I find he has got a new maid, very likely girl, I wish he do not play the fool with her. Thence homewards, and meeting with Mr. Kirton’s kinsman in Paul’s Church Yard, he and I to a coffeehouse;1732 where I hear how there had like to have been a surprisal of Dublin by some discontented protestants, and other things of like nature; and it seems the Commissioners have carried themselves so high for the Papists that the others will not endure it.1733 Hewlett and some others are taken and clapped up; and they say the King hath sent over to dissolve the Parliament there, who went very high against the Commissioners. Pray God send all well! Hence home and in comes Captain Ferrers and by and by Mr. Bland to see me and sat talking with me till 9 or 10 at night, and so good night. The Captain to bid my wife to his child’s christening. So my wife being pretty well again and Ashwell there we spent the evening pleasantly, and so to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where busy all the morning, and at noon, after a very little dinner, to it again, and by and by, by appointment, our full board met, and Sir Philip Warwick1734 and Sir Robert Long1735 came from my Lord Treasurer to speak with us about the state of the debts of the Navy; and how to settle it, so as to begin upon the new foundation of £200,000 per annum, which the King is now resolved not to exceed. This discourse done, and things put in a way of doing, they went away, and Captain Holmes being called in he began his high complaint against his Master Cooper, and would have him forthwith discharged. Which I opposed, not in his defence but for the justice of proceeding not to condemn a man unheard, upon [which] we fell from one word to another that we came to very high terms, such as troubled me, though all and the worst that I ever said was that that was insolently or ill mannerdly spoken. When he told me that it was well it was here that I said it. But all the officers, Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and Sir W. Penn cried shame of it. At last he parted and we resolved to bring the dispute between him and his Master to a trial next week, wherein I shall not at all concern myself in defence of anything that is unhandsome on the Master’s part nor willingly suffer him to have any wrong. So we rose and I to my office, troubled though sensible that all the officers are of opinion that he has carried himself very much unbecoming him. So wrote letters by the post, and home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and in my office wrote out our bill for the Parliament about our being made justices of Peace in the City. So home and to church, where a dull formall fellow that prayed for the Right Hon. John Lord Barkeley, Lord President of Connaught, etc. So home to dinner, and after dinner my wife and I and her woman by coach to Westminster, where being come too soon for the Christening we took up Mr. Creed and went out to take some air, as far as Chelsey and further, I ’lighting there and letting them go on with the coach while I went to the church expecting to see the young ladies of the school, Ashwell desiring me, but I could not get in far enough, and so came out and at the coach’s coming back went in again and so back to Westminster, and led my wife and her to Captain Ferrers, and I to my Lord Sandwich, and with him talking a good while; I find the Court would have this Indulgence go on, but the Parliament are against it. Matters in Ireland are full of discontent. Thence with Mr. Creed to Captain Ferrers, where many fine ladies; the house well and prettily furnished. She1736 lies in, in great state, Mr. G. Montagu, Collonel Williams, Cromwell that was,1737 and Mrs. Wright as proxy for my Lady Jemimah, were witnesses. Very pretty and plentiful entertainment, could not get away till nine at night, and so home. My coach cost me 7s. So to prayers, and to bed. This day though I was merry enough yet I could not get yesterday’s quarrel out of my mind, and a natural fear of being challenged by Holmes for the words I did give him, though nothing but what did become me as a principal officer.
. Up betimes and to my office, before noon my wife and I eat something, thinking to have gone abroad together, but in comes Mr. Hunt, who we were forced to stay to dinner, and so while that was got ready he and I abroad about 2 or 3 small businesses of mine, and so back to dinner, and after dinner he went away, and my wife and I and Ashwell by coach, set my wife down at her mother’s and Ashwell at my Lord’s, she going to see her father and mother, and I to Whitehall, being fearful almost, so poor a spirit I have, of meeting Major Holmes. By and by the Duke comes, and we with him about our usual business, and then the Committee for Tangier, where, after reading my Lord Rutherford’s1738 commission and consented to, Sir R. Ford, Sir W. Rider, and I were chosen to bring in some laws for the Civil government of it, which I am little able to do, but am glad to be joined with them, for I shall learn something of them. Thence to see my Lord Sandwich, and who should I meet at the door but Major Holmes. He would have gone away, but I told him I would not spoil his visit, and would have gone, but however we fell to discourse and he did as good as desire excuse for the high words that did pass in his heat the other day, which I was willing enough to close with, and after telling him my mind we parted, and I left him to speak with my Lord, and I by coach home, where I found Will. Howe come home today with my wife, and stayed with us all night, staying late up singing songs, and then he and I to bed together in Ashwell’s bed and she with my wife. This the first time that I ever lay in the room. This day Greatorex brought me a very pretty weatherglass for heat and cold.1739
. Lay pretty long, that is, till past six o’clock, and then up and W. Howe and I very merry together, till having eat our breakfast, he went away, and I to my office. By and by Sir J. Minnes and I to the Victualling Office1740 by appointment to meet several persons upon stating the demands of some people of money from the King. Here we went into their Bakehouse, and saw all the ovens at work, and good bread too, as ever I would desire to eat. Thence Sir J. Minnes and I homewards calling at Browne’s, the mathematician in the Minories, with a design of buying White’s ruler to measure timber with, but could not agree on the price. So home, and to dinner, and so to my office, where we sat anon, and among other things had Cooper’s business tried against Captain Holmes, but I find Cooper a fuddling, troublesome fellow, though a good artist, and so am contented to have him turned out of his place, nor did I see reason to say one word against it, though I know what they did against him was with great envy and pride. So anon broke up, and after writing letters, etc., home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where all the morning, at noon dined and to the Exchange, and thence to the Sun Tavern, to my Lord Rutherford, and dined with him, and some others, his officers, and Scotch gentlemen, of fine discourse and education. My Lord used me with great respect, and discoursed upon his business as with one that he did esteem of, and indeed I do believe that this garrison is likely to come to something under him. By and by he went away, forgetting to take leave of me, my back being turned, looking upon the aviary, which is there very pretty, and the birds begin to sing well this spring. Thence home and to my office till night, reading over and consulting upon the book and Ruler that I bought this morning of Browne concerning the line of numbers, in which I find much pleasure. This evening came Captain Grove about hiring ships for Tangier. I did hint to him my desire that I could make some lawful profit thereof, which he promises that he will tell me of all that he gets and that I shall have a share, which I did not demand, but did silently consent to it, and money I perceive something will be got thereby. At night Mr. Bland came and sat with me at my office till late, and so I home and to bed. This day being washing day and my maid Susan ill, or would be thought so, put my house so out of order that we had no pleasure almost in anything, my wife being troubled thereat for want of a good cook-maid, and moreover I cannot have my dinner as I ought in memory of my being cut for the stone, but I must have it a day or two hence.
. Up betimes and to my office, leaving my wife in bed to take her physic, myself also not being out of some pain today by some cold that I have got by the sudden change of the weather from hot to cold. This day is five years since it pleased God to preserve me at my being cut of the stone, of which I bless God I am in all respects well. Only now and then upon taking cold I have some pain, but otherwise in very good health always. But I could not get my feast to be kept today as it used to be, because of my wife’s being ill and other disorders by my servants being out of order. This morning came a new cook-maid at £4 per annum, the first time I ever did give so much, but we hope it will be nothing lost by keeping a good cook. She did live last at my Lord Monk’s house, and indeed at dinner did get what there was very prettily ready and neat for me, which did please me much. This morning my uncle Thomas was with me according to agreement, and I paid him the £50, which was against my heart to part with, and yet I must be contented; I used him very kindly, and I desire to continue so voyd of any discontent as to my estate, that I may follow my business the better. At the ’Change I met him again, with intent to have met with my uncle Wight to have made peace with him, with whom by my long absence I fear I shall have a difference, but he was not there, so we missed. All the afternoon sat at the office about business till 9 or 10 at night, and so dispatch business and home to supper and to bed. My maid Susan went away today, I giving her something for her lodging and diet somewhere else a while that I might have room for my new maid.
. Up betimes and at my office all the morning, at noon to the Exchange, and there by appointment met my uncles Thomas and Wight, and from thence with them to a tavern, and there paid my uncle Wight three pieces of gold for himself, my aunt, and their son that is dead, left by my uncle Robert, and read over our agreement with my uncle Thomas and the state of our debts and legacies, and so good friendship I think is made up between us all, only we have the worst of it in having so much money to pay. Thence I to the Exchequer again, and thence with Creed into Fleet Street, and calling at several places about business; in passing, at the Hercules Pillars he and I dined though late, and thence with one that we found there, a friend of Captain Ferrers I used to meet at the playhouse, they would have gone to some gaming house, but I would not but parted, and staying a little in Paul’s Churchyard, at the foreign Bookseller’s looking over some Spanish books, and with much ado keeping myself from laying out money there, as also with them, being willing enough to have gone to some idle house with them, I got home, and after a while at my office, to supper, and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where all the morning. Dined at home and Creed with me, and though a very cold day and high wind, yet I took him by land to Deptford, my common walk, where I did some little businesses, and so home again walking both forwards and backwards, as much along the street as we could to save going by water. So home, and after being a little while hearing Ashwell play on the triangle, to my office, and there late, writing a chiding letter to my poor father about his being so unwilling to come to an account with me, which I desire he might do, that I may know what he spends, and how to order the estate so as to pay debts and legacies as far as may be. So late home to supper and to bed.
. Waked as I used to do betimes, but being Sunday and very cold I lay long, it raining and snowing very hard, which I did never think it would have done any more this year. Up and to church, home to dinner. After dinner in comes Mr. Moore, and sat and talked with us a good while; among other things telling me, that [neither] my Lord nor he are under apprehensions of the late discourse in the House of Commons, concerning resumption of Crown lands, which I am very glad of. He being gone, up to my chamber, where my wife and Ashwell and I all the afternoon talking and laughing, and by and by I a while to my office, reading over some papers which I found in my man William’s chest of drawers, among others some old precedents concerning the practice of this office heretofore, which I am glad to find and shall make use of, among others an oath, which the Principal Officers were bound to swear at their entrance into their offices, which I would be glad were in use still. So home and fell hard to make up my monthly accounts, letting my family go to bed after prayers. I stayed up long, and find myself, as I think, fully worth £670. So with good comfort to bed, finding that though it be but little, yet I do get ground every month. I pray God it may continue so with me.
. Up betimes and found my weatherglass sunk again just to the same position which it was last night before I had any fire made in my chamber, which had made it rise in two hours time above half a degree. So to my office where all the morning and at the Glass-house, and after dinner by coach with Sir W. Penn I carried my wife and her woman to Westminster, they to visit Mrs. Ferrers and Clerke, we to the Duke, where we did our usual business, and afterwards to the Tangier Committee, where among other things we all of us sealed and signed the Contract for building the Mole with my Lord Tiviott, Sir J. Lawson, and Mr. Cholmeley. A thing I did with a very ill will, because a thing which I did not at all understand, nor any or few of the whole board. We did also read over the propositions for the Civil government and Law Merchant of the town, as they were agreed on this morning at the Glasshouse by Sir R. Ford and Sir W. Rider, who drew them, Mr. Povy and myself as a Committee appointed to prepare them, which were in substance but not in the manner of executing them independent wholly upon the Governor consenting to. Thence to see my Lord Sandwich, who I found very merry and every day better and better. So to my wife, who waited my coming at my Lord’s lodgings, and took her up and by coach home, where no sooner come but to bed, finding myself just in the same condition I was lately by the extreme cold weather, my pores stopped and so my body all inflamed and itching. So keeping myself warm and provoking myself to a moderate sweat, and so somewhat better in the morning,
. And to that purpose I lay long talking with my wife about my father’s coming, which I expect today, coming up with the horses brought up for my Lord. Up and to my office, where doing business all the morning, and at Sir W. Batten’s, whither Mr. Gauden and many others came to us about business. Then home to dinner, where W. Joyce came, and he still a talking impertinent fellow. So to the office again, and hearing by and by that Madam Clerke, Pierce, and others were come to see my wife I stepped in and stayed a little with them, and so to the office again, where late, and so home to supper and to bed.
April 1663
. Up betimes and abroad to my brother’s, but he being gone out I went to the Temple to my Cousin Roger Pepys, to see and talk with him a little; who tells me that, with much ado, the Parliament do agree to throw down Popery; but he says it is with so much spite and passion, and an endeavour of bringing all Nonconformists into the same condition, that he is afeard matters will not yet go so well as he could wish. Thence back to my brother’s, in my way meeting Mr. Moore and talking with him about getting me some money, and calling at my brother’s they tell me that my brother is still abroad, and that my father is not yet up. At which I wondered, not thinking that he was come, though I expected him, because I looked for him at my house. So I up to his bedside and stayed an hour or two talking with him. Among other things he tells me how unquiet my mother is grown, that he is not able to live almost with her, if it were not for Pall. All other matters are as well as upon so hard conditions with my uncle Thomas we can expect them. I left him in bed, being very weary, to come to my house tonight or tomorrow, when he pleases, and so I home, calling on the virginall maker, buying a rest for myself to tune my triangle, and taking one of his people along with me to put it in tune once more, by which I learned how to go about it myself for the time to come. So to dinner, my wife being lazily in bed all this morning. Ashwell and I dined below together, and a pretty girl she is, and I hope will give my wife and myself good content, being very humble and active, my cook-maid do also dress my meat very well and neatly. So to my office all the afternoon till night, and then home, calling at Sir W. Batten’s, where was Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Penn, I telling them how by my letter this day from Commissioner Pett I hear that his Stempeese1741 he undertook for the new ship at Woolwich, which we have been so long, to our shame, in looking for, do prove knotty and not fit for service. Lord! how Sir J. Minnes, like a mad coxcomb, did swear and stamp, swearing that Commissioner Pett hath still the old heart against the King that ever he had, and that this was his envy against his brother that was to build the ship, and all the damnable reproaches in the world, at which I was ashamed, but said little; but, upon the whole, I find him still a fool, led by the nose with stories told by Sir W. Batten, whether with or without reason. So, vexed in my mind to see things ordered so unlike gentlemen, or men of reason, I went home and to bed.
. Up by very betimes and to my office, where all the morning till towards noon, and then by coach to Westminster Hall with Sir W. Penn, and while he went up to the House I walked in the Hall with Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, that I met there, talking about my business the other day with Holmes, whom I told my mind, and did freely tell how I do depend upon my care and diligence in my employment to bear me out against the pride of Holmes or any man else in things that are honest, and much to that purpose which I know he will make good use of. But he did advise me to take as few occasions as I can of disobliging Commanders, though this is one that everybody is glad to hear that he do receive a check. By and by the House rises and I home again with Sir W. Penn, and all the way talking of the same business, to whom I did on purpose tell him my mind freely, and let him see that it must be a wiser man than Holmes (in these very words) that shall do me any hurt while I do my duty. I to remember him of Holmes’s words against Sir J. Minnes, that he was a knave, rogue, coward, and that he will kick him and pull him by the ears, which he remembered all of them and may have occasion to do it hereafter to his own shame to suffer them to be spoke in his presence without any reply but what I did give him, which, has caused all this feud. But I am glad of it, for I would now and then take occasion to let the world know that I will not be made a novice. Sir W. Penn took occasion to speak about my wife’s strangeness to him and his daughter, and that believing at last that it was from his taking of Sarah to be his maid, he hath now put her away, at which I am glad. He told me, that this day the King hath sent to the House his concurrence wholly with them against the Popish priests, Jesuits, etc., which gives great content, and I am glad of it. So home, whither my father comes and dines with us, and being willing to be merry with him I made myself so as much as I could, and so to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and at night having done all my business I went home to my wife and father, and supped, and so to bed, my father lying with me in Ashwell’s bed in the red chamber.
. Waked betimes and talked half an hour with my father, and so I rose and to my office, and about 9 o’clock by water from the Old Swan to Whitehall and to chapel, which being most monstrous full, I could not go into my pew, but sat among the choir. Dr. Creeton, the Scotchman, preached a most admirable, good, learned, honest and most severe sermon, yet comicall, upon the words of the woman concerning the Virgin, “Blessed is the womb that bare thee (meaning Christ) and the paps that gave thee suck; and he answered, Nay; rather is he blessed that heareth the word of God, and keepeth it.” He railed bitterly ever and anon against John Calvin, and his brood, the Presbyterians, and against the present term, now in use, of “tender consciences.” He ripped up Hugh Peters1742 (calling him the execrable skellum),1743 his preaching and stirring up the maids of the city to bring in their bodkins and thimbles. Thence going out of Whitehall, I met Captain Grove, who did give me a letter directed to myself from himself. I discerned money to be in it, and took it, knowing, as I found it to be, the proceed of the place I have got him to be, the taking up of vessels for Tangier. But I did not open it till I came home to my office, and there I broke it open, not looking into it till all the money was out, that I might say I saw no money in the paper, if ever I should be questioned about it. There was a piece in gold and £4 in silver. So home to dinner with my father and wife, and after dinner up to my triangle, where I found that above my expectation Ashwell has very good principles of music and can take out a lesson herself with very little pains, at which I am very glad. Thence away back again by water to Whitehall, and there to the Tangier Committee, where we find ourselves at a great stand; the establishment being but £70,000 per annum, and the forces to be kept in the town at the least estimate that my Lord Rutherford can be got to bring it is £53,000. The charge of this year’s work of the Mole will be £13,000; besides £1,000 a-year to my Lord Peterborough as a pension, and the fortifications and contingencies, which puts us to a great stand, and so unsettled what to do therein we rose, and I to see my Lord Sandwich, whom I found merry at cards, and so by coach home, and after supper a little to my office and so home and to bed. I find at Court that there is some bad news from Ireland of an insurrection of the Catholics there, which puts them into an alarm. I hear also in the City that for certain there is an embargo upon all our ships in Spain, upon this action of my Lord Windsor’s at Cuba, which signifies little or nothing, but only he hath a mind to say that he hath done something before he comes back again. Late tonight I sent to invite my uncle Wight and aunt with Mrs. Turner tomorrow.
. Up betimes and to my office. By and by to Lombard street by appointment to meet Mr. Moore, but the business not being ready I returned to the office, where we sat a while, and, being sent for, I returned to him and there signed to some papers in the conveying of some lands mortgaged by Sir Rob. Parkhurst in my name to my Lord Sandwich, which I having done I returned home to dinner, whither by and by comes Roger Pepys, Mrs. Turner her daughter, Joyce Norton,1744 and a young lady, a daughter of Coll. Cockes, my uncle Wight, his wife and Mrs. Anne Wight. This being my feast, in lieu of what I should have had a few days ago for my cutting of the stone, for which the Lord make me truly thankful. Very merry at, before, and after dinner, and the more for that my dinner was great, and most neatly dressed by our own only maid. We had a fricasee of rabbits and chickens, a leg of mutton boiled, three carps in a dish, a great dish of a side of lamb, a dish of roasted pigeons, a dish of four lobsters, three tarts, a lamprey pie (a most rare pie), a dish of anchovies, good wine of several sorts, and all things mighty noble and to my great content. After dinner to Hide Park; my aunt, Mrs. Wight and I in one coach, and all the rest of the women in Mrs. Turner’s; Roger being gone in haste to the Parliament about the carrying this business of the Papists, in which it seems there is great contest on both sides, and my uncle and father staying together behind. At the Park was the King, and in another coach my Lady Castlemaine, they greeting one another at every tour.1745 Here about an hour, and so leaving all by the way we home and found the house as clean as if nothing had been done there today from top to bottom, which made us give the cook 12d. a piece, each of us. So to my office about writing letters by the post, one to my brother John at Brampton telling him (hoping to work a good effect by it upon my mother) how melancholy my father is, and bidding him use all means to get my mother to live peaceably and quietly, which I am sure she neither do nor I fear can ever do, but frightening her with his coming down no more, and the danger of her condition if he should die I trust may do good. So home and to bed.
. Up and spent the morning, till the Barber came, in reading in my chamber part of Osborne’s Advice to His Son (which I shall not never enough admire for sense and language), and being by and by trimmed, to Church, myself, wife, Ashwell, etc. Home to dinner, it raining, while that was prepared to my office to read over my vows with great affection and to very good purpose. So to dinner, and very well pleased with it. Then to church again, where a simple bawling young Scot preached. So home to my office alone till dark, reading some papers of my old navy precedents, and so home to supper, and, after some pleasant talk, my wife, Ashwell, and I to bed.
. Up very betimes and to my office, and there made an end of reading my book that I have of Mr. Barlow’s of the Journal of the Commissioners of the Navy, who begun to act in the year 1628 and continued six years, wherein is fine observations and precedents out of which I do purpose to make a good collection. By and by, much against my will, being twice sent for, to Sir G. Carteret’s to pass his accounts there, upon which Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, and myself all the morning, and again after dinner to it, being vexed at my heart to see a thing of that importance done so slightly and with that neglect for which God pardon us, and I would I could mend it. Thence leaving them I made an excuse and away home, and took my wife by coach and left her at Madam Clerk’s, to make a visit there, and I to the Committee of Tangier, where I found, to my great joy, my Lord Sandwich, the first time I have seen him abroad these some months, and by and by he rose and took leave, being, it seems, this night to go to Kensington or Chelsey, where he hath taken a lodging for a while to take the air. We stayed, and after business done I got Mr. Coventry into the Matted Gallery and told him my whole mind concerning matters of our office, all my discontent to see things of so great trust carried so neglectfully, and what pitiful service the Controller and Surveyor make of their duties, and I disburdened my mind wholly to him and he to me his own, many things, telling me that he is much discouraged by seeing things not to grow better and better as he did well hope they would have done. Upon the whole, after a full hour’s private discourse, telling one another our minds, we with great content parted, and with very great satisfaction for my [having] thus cleared my conscience, went to Dr. Clerk’s and thence fetched my wife, and by coach home. To my office a little to set things in order, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes, and angry with Will that he made no more haste to rise after I called him. So to my office, and all the morning there. At noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, where I found my wife had been with Ashwell to La Roche’s to have her tooth drawn, which it seems aches much, but my wife could not get her to be contented to have it drawn after the first twich, but would let it alone, and so they came home with it undone, which made my wife and me good sport. After dinner to the office, where Sir J. Minnes did make a great complaint to me alone, how my clerk Mr. Hater had entered in one of the Sea books a ticket to have been signed by him before it had been examined, which makes the old fool mad almost, though there was upon enquiry the greatest reason in the world for it. Which though it vexes me, yet it is most to see from day to day what a coxcomb he is, and that so great a trust should lie in the hands of such a fool. We sat all the afternoon, and I late at my office, it being post night, and so home to supper, my father being come again to my house, and after supper to bed, and after some talk to sleep.
. Up betimes and to my office, and by and by, about 8 o’clock, to the Temple to Commissioner Pett lately come to town and discoursed about the affairs of our office, how ill they go through the corruption and folly of Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes. Thence by water to Whitehall, to chapel; where preached Dr. Pierce, the famous man that preached the sermon so much cried up, before the King against the Papists. His matter was the Devil tempting our Saviour, being carried into the Wilderness by the spirit. And he hath as much of natural eloquence as most men that ever I heard in my life, mixed with so much learning. After sermon I went up and saw the ceremony of the Bishop of Peterborough’s paying homage upon the knee to the King, while Sir H. Bennet, Secretary, read the King’s grant of the Bishopric of Lincoln, to which he is translated. His name is Dr. Lany.1746 Here I also saw the Duke of Monmouth, with his Order of the Garter, the first time I ever saw it. I am told that the University of Cambridge did treat him a little while since with all the honour possible, with a comedy at Trinity College, and banquet; and made him Master of Arts there. All which, they say, the King took very well. Dr. Raynbow,1747 Master of Magdalen, being now Vice-Chancellor. Home by water to dinner, and with my father, wife, and Ashwell, after dinner, by water towards Woolwich, and in our way I bethought myself that we had left our poor little dog that followed us out of doors at the waterside, and God knows whether he be not lost, which did not only strike my wife into a great passion but I must confess myself also; more than was becoming me. We immediately returned, I taking another boat and with my father went to Woolwich, while they went back to find the dog. I took my father on board the King’s pleasure boat and down to Woolwich, and walked to Greenwich thence and turning into the park to show my father the steps up the hill, we found my wife, her woman, and dog attending us, which made us all merry again, and so took boats, they to Deptford and so by land to Halfway house, I into the King’s yard and overlook them there, and eat and drank with them, and saw a company of seamen play drolly at our pence, and so home by water. I a little at the office, and so home to supper and to bed, after having Ashwell play my father and me a lesson upon her Triangle.
. Up betimes and to my office, and anon we met upon finishing the Treasurer’s accounts. At noon dined at home and am vexed to hear my wife tell me how our maid Mary do endeavour to corrupt our cook-maid, which did please me very well, but I am resolved to rid the house of her as soon as I can. To the office and sat all the afternoon till 9 at night, and an hour after home to supper and bed. My father lying at Tom’s tonight, he dining with my uncle Fenner and his sons and a great many more of the gang at his own cost today. To bed vexed also to think of Sir J. Minnes finding fault with Mr. Hater for what he had done the other day, though there be no hurt in the thing at all but only the old fool’s jealousy, made worse by Sir W. Batten.
. Up very betimes and to my office, where most hard at business alone all the morning. At noon to the Exchange, where I hear that after great expectation from Ireland, and long stop of letters, there is good news come, that all is quiet after our great noise of troubles there, though some stir hath been as was reported. Off the Exchange with Sir J. Cutler and Mr. Grant to the Royal Oak Tavern, in Lombard Street,1748 where Alexander Broome1749 the poet was, a merry and witty man, I believe, if he be not a little conceited, and here drank a sort of French wine, called Ho Bryan,1750 that hath a good and most particular taste that I never met with. Home to dinner, and then by water abroad to Whitehall, my wife to see Mrs. Ferrers, I to Whitehall and the Park, doing no business. Then to my Lord’s lodgings, met my wife, and walked to the New Exchange. There laid out 10s. upon pendents and painted leather gloves, very pretty and all the mode. So by coach home and to my office till late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where we sat also all the morning till noon, and then home to dinner, my father being there but not very well. After dinner in comes Captain Lambert of the Norwich, this day come from Tangier, whom I am glad to see. There came also with him Captain Wager, and afterwards in came Captain Allen to see me, of the Resolution. All stayed a pretty while, and so away, and I a while to my office, then abroad into the street with my father, and left him to go to see my aunt Wight and uncle, intending to lie at Tom’s tonight, or my cousin Scott’s, where it seems he has hitherto lain and is most kindly used there. So I home and to my office very late making up my Lord’s navy accounts, wherein I find him to stand debtor £1,200. So home to supper and to bed.
. Lay till 8 o’clock, which I have not done a great while, then up and to church, where I found our pew altered by taking some of the hind pew to make ours bigger, because of the number of women, more by Sir J. Minnes company than we used to have. Home to dinner, and after dinner, intending to go to Chelsey to my Lord Sandwich, my wife would needs go with me, though she walked on foot to Whitehall. Which she did and stayed at my Lord’s lodgings while Creed and I took a turn at Whitehall, but no coach to be had, and so I returned to them and sat talking till evening, and then got a coach and to Gray’s Inn walks, where some handsome faces, and so home and there to supper, and a little after 8 o’clock to bed, a thing I have not done God knows when. Coming home tonight, a drunken boy was carrying by our constable to our new pair of stocks to handsel them, being a new pair and very handsome.
. Up by five o’clock and to my office, where hard at work till towards noon, and home and eat a bit, and so going out met with Mr. Mount my old acquaintance, and took him in and drank a glass or two of wine to him and so parted, having not time to talk together, and I with Sir W. Batten to the Stillyard, and there eat a lobster together, and Wyse the King’s fishmonger coming in we were very merry half an hour, and so by water to Whitehall, and by and by being all met we went in to the Duke and there did our business and so away, and anon to the Tangier Committee, where we had very fine discourse from Dr. Walker and Wiseman,1751 civilians, against our erecting a court-merchant at Tangier, and well answered in many things by my Lord Sandwich (whose speaking I never till now observed so much to be very good) and Sir R. Ford. By and by the discourse being ended, we fell to my Lord Rutherford’s dispatch, which do not please him, he being a Scott, and one resolved to scrape every penny that he can get by any way, which the Committee will not agree to. He took offence at something and rose away, without taking leave of the board, which all took ill, though nothing said but only by the Duke of Albemarle, who said that we ought to settle things as they ought to be, and if he will not go upon these terms another man will, no doubt. Here late, quite finishing things against his going, and so rose, and I walked home, being accompanied by Creed to Temple Bar, talking of this afternoon’s passage, and so I called at the Wardrobe in my way home, and there spoke at the Horn tavern with Mr. Moore a word or two, but my business was with Mr. Townsend, who is gone this day to his country house, about sparing Charles Pepys some money of his bills due to him when he can, but missing him lost my labour. So walked home, finding my wife abroad, at my aunt, Wight’s, who coming home by and by, I home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes to my office, where busy till 8 o’clock that Sir W. Batten, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Penn and I down by barge to Woolwich, to see The Royal James launched, where she has been under repair a great while. We stayed in the yard till almost noon, and then to Mr. Falconer’s to a dinner of fish of our own sending, and when it was just ready to come upon the table, word is brought that the King and Duke are come, so they all went away to show themselves, while I stayed and had a little dish or two by myself, resolving to go home, and by the time I had dined they came again, having gone to little purpose, the King, I believe, taking little notice of them. So they to dinner, and I stayed a little with them, and so goodbye. I walked to Greenwich, studying the slide rule for measuring of timber, which is very fine. Thence to Deptford by water, and walked through the yard, and so walked to Redriffe, and so home pretty weary, to my office, where anon they all came home, the ship well launched, and so sat at the office till 9 at night, and I longer doing business at my office, and so home to supper, my father being come, and to bed. Sir G. Carteret tells me tonight that he perceives the Parliament is likely to make a great bustle before they will give the King any money; will call all things into question; and, above all, the expenses of the Navy; and do enquire into the King’s expenses everywhere, and into the truth of the report of people being forced to sell their bills at 15 percent loss in the Navy; and, lastly, that they are in a very angry pettish mood at present, and not likely to be better.
. Up betimes, and after talking with my father awhile, I to my office, and there hard at it till almost noon, and then went down the river with Maynes, the purveyor, to show a ship’s lading of Norway goods, and called at Sir W. Warren’s yard, and so home to dinner. After dinner up with my wife and Ashwell a little to the Triangle, and so I down to Deptford by land about looking out a couple of catches fitted to be speedily set forth in answer to a letter of Mr. Coventry’s to me. Which done, I walked back again, all the way reading of my book of Timber measure, comparing it with my new Sliding Rule brought home this morning with great pleasure. Taking boat again I went to Shishe’s yard,1752 but he being newly gone out towards Deptford I followed him thither again, and there seeing him I went with him and pitched upon a couple, and so by water home, it being late, past 8 at night, the wind cold, and I a little weary. So home to my office, then to supper and bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, met to pass Mr. Pitt’s (anon Sir J. Lawson’s Secretary and Deputy Treasurer) accounts for the voyage last to the Streights, wherein the demands are strangely irregular, and I dare not oppose it alone for making an enemy and do no good, but only bring a review upon my Lord Sandwich, but God knows it troubles my heart to see it, and to see the Comptroller, whose duty it is, to make no more matter of it. At noon home for an hour to dinner, and so to the office public and private till late at night, so home to supper and bed with my father.
. Up by five o’clock as I have long done and to my office all the morning, at noon home to dinner with my father with us. Our dinner, it being Good Friday, was only sugarsopps and fish; the only time that we have had a Lenten dinner all this Lent. This morning Mr. Hunt, the instrument maker, brought me home a Bass Viol to see whether I like it, which I do not very well, besides I am under a doubt whether I had best buy one yet or no, because of spoiling my present mind and love to business. After dinner my father and I walked into the city a little, and parted and to Paul’s Church Yard, to cause the title of my English Mare Clausum1753 to be changed, and the new title, dedicated to the King, to be put to it, because I am ashamed to have the other seen dedicated to the Commonwealth. So home and to my office till night, and so home to talk with my father, and supper and to bed, I have not had yet one quarter of an hour’s leisure to sit down and talk with him since he came to town, nor do I know till the holidays when I shall.
. Up betimes and to my office, where all the morning. At noon to dinner. With us Mr. Creed, who has been deeply engaged at the office this day about the ending of his accounts, wherein he is most unhappy to have to do with a company of fools who after they have signed his accounts and made bills upon them yet dare not boldly assert to the Treasurer that they are satisfied with his accounts. Hereupon all dinner, and walking in the garden the afternoon, he and I talking of the ill management of our office, which God knows is very ill for the King’s advantage. I would I could make it better. In the evening to my office, and at night home to supper and bed.
. Up and this day put on my close-kneed coloured suit, which, with new stockings of the colour, with belt, and new gilt-handled sword, is very handsome. To church alone, and so to dinner, where my father and brother Tom dined with us, and after dinner to church again, my father sitting below in the chancel. After church done, where the young Scotchman preaching I slept all the while, my father and I to see my uncle and aunt Wight, and after a stay of an hour there my father to my brother’s and I home to supper, and after supper fell in discourse of dancing, and I find that Ashwell hath a very fine carriage, which makes my wife almost ashamed of herself to see herself so outdone, but tomorrow she begins to learn to dance for a month or two. So to prayers and to bed. Will being gone, with my leave, to his father’s this day for a day or two, to take physic these holydays.
. Up betimes as I use to do, and in my chamber begun to look over my father’s accounts, which he brought out of the country with him by my desire, whereby I may see what he has received and spent, and I find that he is not anything extravagant, and yet it do so far outdo his estate that he must either think of lessening his charge, or I must be forced to spare money out of my purse to help him through, which I would willing do as far as £20 goes. So to my office the remaining part of the morning till towards noon, and then to Mr. Grant’s. There saw his prints, which he showed me, and indeed are the best collection of any things almost that ever I saw, there being the prints of most of the greatest houses, churches, and antiquities in Italy and France and brave cuts. I had not time to look them over as I ought, and which I will take time hereafter to do, and therefore left them and home to dinner. After dinner, it raining very hard, by coach to Whitehall, where, after Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, Mr. Coventry and I had been with the Duke, we to the Committee of Tangier and did matters there dispatching wholly my Lord Teviott, and so broke up. With Sir G. Carteret and Sir John Minnes by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, thinking to have spoken about getting money for paying the Yards; but we found him with some ladies at cards: and so, it being a bad time to speak, we parted, and Sir J. Minnes and I home, and after walking with my wife in the garden late, to supper and to bed, being somewhat troubled at Ashwell’s desiring and insisting over eagerly upon her going to a ball to meet some of her old companions at a dancing school here in town next Friday, but I am resolved she shall not go. So to bed. This day the little Duke of Monmouth was married at Whitehall, in the King’s chamber; and tonight is a great supper and dancing at his lodgings, near Charing-Cross.1754 I observed his coat at the tail of his coach he gives the arms of England, Scotland, and France, quartered upon some other fields, but what it is that speaks his being a bastard I know not.1755
. Up betimes and to my office, where first I ruled with red ink my English Mare Clausum, which, with the new orthodox title, makes it now very handsome. So to business, and then home to dinner, and after dinner to sit at the office in the afternoon, and thence to my study late, and so home to supper to play a game at cards with my wife, and so to bed. Ashwell plays well at cards, and will teach us to play; I wish it do not lose too much of my time, and put my wife too much upon it.
. Up betimes and to my office very busy all the morning there, entering things into my Book Manuscript, which pleases me very much. So to the ’Change, and so to my uncle Wight’s, by invitation, whither my father, wife, and Ashwell came, where we had but a poor dinner, and not well dressed; besides, the very sight of my aunt’s hands and greasy manner of carving, did almost turn my stomach. After dinner by coach to the King’s Playhouse, where we saw but part of Wit Without Money,1756 which I do not like much, but coming late put me out of tune, and it costing me four half-crowns for myself and company. So, the play done, home, and I to my office a while and so home, where my father (who is so very melancholy) and we played at cards, and so to supper and to bed.
. St. George’s day and Coronacion, the King and Court being at Windsor, at the installing of the King of Denmark by proxy and the Duke of Monmouth. I up betimes, and with my father, having a fire made in my wife’s new closet above, it being a wet and cold day, we sat there all the morning looking over his country accounts ever since his going into the country. I find his spending hitherto has been (without extraordinary charges) at full £100 per annum, which troubles me, and I did let him apprehend it, so as that the poor man wept, though he did make it well appear to me that he could not have saved a farthing of it. I did tell him how things stand with us, and did show my distrust of Pall, both for her good nature and housewifery, which he was sorry for, telling me that indeed she carries herself very well and carefully, which I am glad to hear, though I doubt it was but his doting and not being able to find her miscarriages so well nowadays as he could heretofore have done. We resolve upon sending for Will Stankes up to town to give us a right understanding in all that we have in Brampton, and before my father goes to settle everything so as to resolve how to find a living for my father and to pay debts and legacies, and also to understand truly how Tom’s condition is in the world, that we may know what we are like to expect of his doing ill or well. So to dinner, and after dinner to the office, where some of us met and did a little business, and so to Sir W. Batten’s to see a little picture drawing of his by a Dutchman which is very well done. So to my office and put a few things in order, and so home to spend the evening with my father. At cards till late, and being at supper, my boy being sent for some mustard to a neat’s tongue, the rogue stayed half an hour in the streets, it seems at a bonfire, at which I was very angry, and resolve to beat him tomorrow.
. Up betimes, and with my salt eel1757 went down in the parlor and there got my boy and did beat him till I was fain to take breath two or three times, yet for all I am afeard it will make the boy never the better, he is grown so hardened in his tricks, which I am sorry for, he being capable of making a brave man, and is a boy that I and my wife love very well. So made me ready, and to my office, where all the morning, and at noon home, whither came Captain Holland, who is lately come home from sea, and has been much harassed in law about the ship which he has bought, so that it seems in a despair he endeavoured to cut his own throat, but is recovered it; and it seems whether by that or any other persuasion (his wife’s mother being a great zealot) he is turned almost a Quaker, his discourse being nothing but holy, and that impertinent, that I was weary of him. At last pretending to go to the ’Change we walked thither together, and there I left him and home to dinner, sending my boy by the way to enquire after two dancing masters at our end of the town for my wife to learn, of whose names the boy brought word. After dinner all the afternoon fiddling upon my violin (which I have not done many a day) while Ashwell danced above in my upper best chamber, which is a rare room for music, expecting this afternoon my wife to bring my cousin Scott and Stradwick, but they came not, and so in the evening we by ourselves to Halfway house to walk, but did not go in there, but only a walk and so home again and to supper, my father with us, and had a good lobster intended for part of our entertainment to these people today, and so to cards, and then to bed, being the first day that I have spent so much to my pleasure a great while.
. Up betimes and to my viol and song book a pretty while, and so to my office, and there we sat all the morning. Among other things Sir W. Batten had a mind to cause Butler (our chief witness in the business of Field, whom we did force back from an employment going to sea to come back to attend our lawsuit) to be borne as a mate on the Rainbow in the Downs in compensation for his loss for our sakes. This he orders an order to be drawn by Mr. Turner for, and after Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and Sir W. Penn had signed it, it came to me and I was going to put it up into my book, thinking to consider of it and give them my opinion upon it before I parted with it, but Sir W. Penn told me I must sign it or give it him again, for it should not go without my hand. I told him what I meant to do, whereupon Sir W. Batten was very angry, and in a great heat (which will bring out anything which he has in his mind, and I am glad of it, though it is base in him to have a thing so long in his mind without speaking of it, though I am glad this is the worst, for if he had worse it would out as well as this some time or other) told me that I should not think as I have heretofore done, make them sign orders and not sign them myself. Which what ignorance or worse it implies is easy to judge, when he shall sign to things (and the rest of the board too as appears in this business) for company and not out of their judgment for. After some discourse I did convince them that it was not fit to have it go, and Sir W. Batten first, and then the rest, did willingly cancel all their hands and tear the order, for I told them, Butler being such a rogue as I know him, and we have all signed him to be to the Duke, it will be in his power to publish this to our great reproach, that we should take such a course as this to serve ourselves in wronging the King by putting him into a place he is no wise capable of, and that in an Admiral ship. At noon we rose, Sir W. Batten ashamed and vexed, and so home to dinner, and after dinner walked to the old Exchange and so all along to Westminster Hall, Whitehall, my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, and going by water back to the Temple did pay my debts in several places in order to my examining my accounts tomorrow to my great content. So in the evening home, and after supper (my father at my brother’s) and merrily practising to dance, which my wife hath begun to learn this day of Mr. Pembleton,1758 but I fear will hardly do any great good at it, because she is conceited that she do well already, though I think no such thing. So to bed. At Westminster Hall, this day, I buy a book lately printed and licensed by Dr. Stradling,1759 the Bishop of London’s chaplain, being a book discovering the practices and designs of the papists, and the fears of some of our own fathers of the Protestant church heretofore of the return to Popery as it were prefacing it. The book is a very good book; but forasmuch as it touches one of the Queen-mother’s fathers confessors, the Bishop, which troubles many good men and members of Parliament, hath called it in, which I am sorry for. Another book I bought, being a collection of many expressions of the great Presbyterian Preachers upon public occasions, in the late times, against the King and his party, as some of Mr. Marshall, Case, Calamy, Baxter, etc., which is good reading now, to see what they then did teach, and the people believe, and what they would seem to believe now.1760 Lastly, I did hear that the Queen is much grieved of late at the King’s neglecting her, he having not supped once with her this quarter of a year, and almost every night with my Lady Castlemaine; who hath been with him this St. George’s feast at Windsor, and came home with him last night; and, which is more, they say is removed as to her bed from her own home to a chamber in Whitehall, next to the King’s own; which I am sorry to hear, though I love her much.
. Lay pretty long in bed talking with my wife, and then up and set to the making up of my monthly accounts, but Tom coming, with whom I was angry for botching my camlet coat, to tell me that my father and he would dine with me, and that my father was at our church, I got me ready and had a very good sermon of a country minister upon “How blessed a thing it is for brethren to live together in unity!” So home and all to dinner, and then would have gone by coach to have seen my Lord Sandwich at Chelsey if the man would have taken us, but he denying it we stayed at home, and I all the afternoon upon my accounts, and find myself worth full £700, for which I bless God, it being the most I was ever yet worth in money. In the evening (my father being gone to my brother’s to lie tonight) my wife, Ashwell, and the boy and I, and the dog, over the water and walked to Halfway house, and beyond into the fields, gathering of cowslipps, and so to Halfway house, with some cold lamb we carried with us, and there supped, and had a most pleasant walk back again, Ashwell all along telling us some parts of their mask at Chelsey School, which was very pretty, and I find she hath a most prodigious memory, remembering so much of things acted six or seven years ago. So home, and after reading my vows, being sleepy, without prayers to bed, for which God forgive me!
. Up betimes and to my office, where doing business alone a good while till people came about business to me. Will Griffin tells me this morning that Captain Browne,1761 Sir W. Batten’s brother-in-law, is dead of a blow given him two days ago by a seaman, a servant of his, being drunk, with a stone striking him on the forehead, for which I am sorry, he having a good woman and several small children. At the office all the morning, at noon dined at home with my wife, merry, and after dinner by water to Whitehall; but found the Duke of York gone to St. James’s for this summer; and thence with Mr. Coventry, to whose chamber I went, and Sir W. Penn up to the Duke’s closet. And a good while with him about our Navy business; and so I to Whitehall, and there alone a while with my Lord Sandwich discoursing about his debt to the Navy, wherein he hath given me some things to resolve him in. Thence to my Lord’s lodging, and thither came Creed to me, and he and I walked a great while in the garden, and thence to an alehouse in the market place to drink fine Lambeth ale, and so to Westminster Hall, and after walking there a great while, home by coach, where I found Mary gone from my wife, she being too high for her, though a very good servant, and my boy too will be going in a few days, for he is not for my family, he is grown so out of order and not to be ruled, and do himself, against his brother’s counsel, desire to be gone, which I am sorry for, because I love the boy and would be glad to bring him to good. At home with my wife and Ashwell talking of her going into the country this year, wherein we had like to have fallen out, she thinking that I have a design to have her go, which I have not, and to let her stay here I perceive will not be convenient, for she expects more pleasure than I can give her here, and I fear I have done very ill in letting her begin to learn to dance. The Queen (which I did not know) it seems was at Windsor, at the late St. George’s feast there; and the Duke of Monmouth dancing with her with his hat in his hand, the King came in and kissed him, and made him put on his hat, which everybody took notice of. After being a while at my office home to supper and to bed, my Will being come home again after being at his father’s all the last week taking physic.
. Up betimes and to my office, and there all the morning, only stepped up to see my wife and her dancing master at it, and I think after all she will do pretty well at it. So to dinner, Mr. Hunt dining with us, and so to the office, where we sat late, and then I to my office casting up my Lord’s sea accounts over again, and putting them in order for payment, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and after having at my office settled some accounts for my Lord Sandwich, I went forth, and taking up my father at my brother’s, took coach and towards Chelsey, ’lighting at an alehouse near the Gatehouse at Westminster to drink our morning draught, and so up again and to Chelsey, where we found my Lord all alone at a little table with one joint of meat at dinner; we sat down and very merry talking, and mightily extolling the manner of his retirement, and the goodness of his diet, which indeed is so finely dressed: the mistress of the house, Mrs. Becke, having been a woman of good condition heretofore, a merchant’s wife, and hath all things most excellently dressed; among others, her cakes admirable, and so good that my Lord’s words were, they were fit to present to my Lady Castlemaine. From ordinary discourse my Lord fell to talk of other matters to me, of which chiefly the second part of the fray, which he told me a little while since of, between Mr. Edward Montagu and himself, which is that after that he had since been with him three times and no notice taken at all of any difference between them, and yet since that he hath forborn coming to him almost two months, and do speak not only slightly of my Lord everywhere, but hath complained to my Lord Chancellor of him, and arrogated all that ever my Lord hath done to be only by his direction and persuasion. Whether he hath done the like to the King or no, my Lord knows not; but my Lord hath been with the King since, and finds all things fair; and my Lord Chancellor hath told him of it, but with so much contempt of Mr. Montagu, as my Lord knows himself very secure against anything the fool can do; and notwithstanding all this, so noble is his nature, that he professes himself ready to show kindness and pity to Mr. Montagu on any occasion. My Lord told me of his presenting Sir H. Bennet with a gold cup of £100, which he refuses, with a compliment; but my Lord would have been glad he had taken it, that he might have had some obligations upon him which he thinks possible the other may refuse to prevent it; not that he hath any reason to doubt his kindness. But I perceive great differences there are at Court; and Sir H. Bennet and my Lord Bristol, and their faction, are likely to carry all things before them (which my Lord’s judgment is, will not be for the best), and particularly against the Chancellor, who, he tells me, is irrecoverably lost: but, however, that he will not actually join in anything against the Chancellor, whom he do own to be his most sure friend, and to have been his greatest; and therefore will not openly act in either, but passively carry himself even. The Queen, my Lord tells me, he thinks he hath incurred some displeasure with, for his kindness to his neighbour, my Lady Castlemaine. My Lord tells me he hath no reason to fall for her sake, whose wit, management, nor interest, is not likely to hold up any man, and therefore he thinks it not his obligation to stand for her against his own interest. The Duke and Mr. Coventry my Lord says he is very well with, and fears not but they will show themselves his very good friends, specially at this time, he being able to serve them, and they needing him, which he did not tell me wherein. Talking of the business of Tangier, he tells me that my Lord Tiviott is gone away without the least respect paid to him, nor indeed to any man, but without his commission; and (if it be true what he says) having laid out seven or eight thousand pounds in commodities for the place; and besides having not only disobliged all the Commissioners for Tangier, but also Sir Charles Barkeley the other day, who, speaking in behalf of Colonel Fitz-Gerald, that having been deputy-governor there already, he ought to have expected and had the governorship upon the death or removal of the former governor.1762 And whereas it is said that he and his men are Irish, which is indeed the main thing that hath moved the King and Council to put in Tiviott to prevent the Irish having too great and the whole command there under Fitz-Gerald; he further said that there was never an Englishman fit to command Tangier; my Lord Tiviott answered yes, that there were many more fit than himself or Fitz-Gerald either. So that Fitz-Gerald being so great with the Duke of York, and being already made deputy-governor, independent of my Lord Tiviott, and he being also left here behind him for a while, my Lord Sandwich do think that, putting all these things together, the few friends he hath left, and the ill posture of his affairs, my Lord Tiviott is not a man of the conduct and management that either people take him to be, or is fit for the command of the place. And here, speaking of the Duke of York and Sir Charles Barkeley, my Lord tells me that he do very much admire the good management, and discretion, and nobleness of the Duke, that whatever he may be led by him or Mr. Coventry singly in private, yet he did not observe that in public matters, but he did give as ready hearing and as good acceptance to any reasons offered by any other man against the opinions of them, as he did to them, and would concur in the prosecution of it. Then we came to discourse upon his own sea accounts, and came to a resolution what and how to proceed in them; wherein he resolved, though I offered him a way of evading the greatest part of his debt honestly, by making himself debtor to the Parliament, before the King’s time, which he might justly do, yet he resolved to go openly and nakedly in it, and put himself to the kindness of the King and Duke, which humour, I must confess, and so did tell him (with which he was not a little pleased) had thriven very well with him, being known to be a man of candid and open dealing, without any private tricks or hidden designs as other men commonly have in what they do. From that we had discourse of Sir G. Carteret, who he finds kind to him, but it may be a little envious, and most other men are, and of many others; and upon the whole do find that it is a troublesome thing for a man of any condition at Court to carry himself even, and without contracting enemies or envyers; and that much discretion and dissimulation is necessary to do it. My father stayed a good while at the window and then sat down by himself while my Lord and I were thus an hour together or two after dinner discoursing, and by and by he took his leave, and told me he would stay below for me. Anon I took leave, and coming down found my father unexpectedly in great pain and desiring for God’s sake to get him a bed to lie upon, which I did, and W. Howe and I stayed by him, in so great pain as I never saw, poor wretch, and with that patience, crying only: Terrible, terrible pain, God help me, God help me, with the mournful voice, that made my heart ache. He desired to rest a little alone to see whether it would abate, and W. Howe and I went down and walked in the gardens, which are very fine, and a pretty fountain, with which I was finely wetted, and up to a banquetting house, with a very fine prospect, and so back to my father, who I found in such pain that I could not bear the sight of it without weeping, never thinking that I should be able to get him from thence, but at last, finding it like to continue, I got him to go to the coach, with great pain, and driving hard, he all the while in a most unsufferable torment (meeting in the way with Captain Ferrers going to my Lord, to tell him that my Lady Jemimah is come to town, and that Will Stankes is come with my father’s horses), not staying the coach to speak with anybody, but once, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, we were forced to stay, the jogging and pain making my father vomit, which it never had done before. At last we got home, and all helping him we got him to bed presently, and after half an hour’s lying in his naked bed (it being a rupture [with] which he is troubled, and has been this 20 years, but never in half the pain and with so great swelling as now, and how this came but by drinking of cold small beer and sitting long upon a low stool and then standing long after it he cannot tell). … After which he was at good ease, and so continued, and so fell to sleep, and we went down whither W. Stankes was come with his horses. But it is very pleasant to hear how he rails at the rumbling and ado that is in London over it is in the country, that he cannot endure it. He supped with us, and very merry, and then he to his lodgings at the Inne with the horses, and so we to bed, I to my father who is very well again, and both slept very well.
. Up, and after drinking my morning draught with my father and W. Stankes,1763 I went forth to Sir W. Batten, who is going (to no purpose as he uses to do) to Chatham upon a survey. So to my office, where till towards noon, and then to the Exchange, and back home to dinner, where Mrs. Hunt, my father, and W. Stankes; but, Lord! what a stir Stankes makes with his being crowded in the streets and wearied in walking in London, and would not be wooed by my wife and Ashwell to go to a play, nor to Whitehall, or to see the lions,1764 though he was carried in a coach. I never could have thought there had been upon earth a man so little curious in the world as he is. At the office all the afternoon till 9 at night, so home to cards with my father, wife, and Ashwell, and so to bed.
May 1663
. Up betimes and my father with me, and he and I all the morning and Will Stankes private, in my wife’s closet above, settling our matters concerning our Brampton estate, etc., and I find that there will be, after all debts paid within £100, £50 per annum clear coming towards my father’s maintenance, besides £25 per annum annuities to my Uncle Thomas and Aunt Perkins. Of which, though I was in my mind glad, yet thought it not fit to let my father know it thoroughly, but after he had gone out to visit my uncle Thomas and brought him to dinner with him, and after dinner I got my father, brother Tom, and myself together, I did make the business worse to them, and did promise £20 out of my own purse to make it £50 a year to my father, propounding that Stortlow may be sold to pay £200 for his satisfaction therein and the rest to go towards payment of debts and legacies. The truth is I am fearful lest my father should die before debts are paid, and then the land goes to Tom and the burden of paying all debts will fall upon the rest of the land. Not that I would do my brother any real hurt. I advised my father to good husbandry and to living within the compass of £50 a year, and all in such kind words, as not only made them but myself to weep, and I hope it will have a good effect. That being done, and all things agreed on, we went down, and after a glass of wine we all took horse, and I, upon a horse hired of Mr. Game, saw him out of London, at the end of Bishopsgate Street,1765 and so I turned and rode, with some trouble, through the fields, and then Holborn, etc., towards Hide Park, whither all the world, I think, are going, and in my going, almost thither, met W. Howe coming galloping upon a little crop black nag; it seems one that was taken in some ground of my Lord’s, by some mischance being left by his master, a thief; this horse being found with black cloth ears on, and a false mayne, having none of his own; and I back again with him to the Chequer, at Charing Cross, and there put up my own dull jade, and by his advice saddled a delicate stone-horse of Captain Ferrers’s, and with that rid in state to the Park, where none better mounted than I almost, but being in a throng of horses, seeing the King’s riders showing tricks with their managed horses, which were very strange, my stone-horse was very troublesome, and begun to fight with other horses, to the dangering him and myself, and with much ado I got out, and kept myself out of harm’s way. Here I saw nothing good, neither the King, nor my Lady Castlemaine, nor any great ladies or beauties being there, there being more pleasure a great deal at an ordinary day; or else those few good faces that there were choked up with the many bad ones, there being people of all sorts in coaches there, to some thousands, I think. Going thither in the highway, just by the Park gate, I met a boy in a sculler boat, carried by a dozen people at least, rowing as hard as he could drive, it seems upon some wager. By and by, about seven or eight o’clock, homeward; and changing my horse again, I rode home, coaches going in great crowds to the further end of the town almost. In my way, in Leadenhall Street, there was morris-dancing which I have not seen a great while. So set my horse up at Game’s, paying 5s. for him. And so home to see Sir J. Minnes, who is well again, and after staying talking with him awhile, I took leave and went to hear Mrs. Turner’s daughter, at whose house Sir J. Minnes lies, play on the harpsicon; but, Lord! it was enough to make any man sick to hear her; yet I was forced to commend her highly. So home to supper and to bed, Ashwell playing upon the triangle very well before I went to bed. This day Captain Grove sent me a side of pork, which was the oddest present, sure, that was ever made any man; and the next, I remember I told my wife, I believe would be a pound of candles, or a shoulder of mutton; but the fellow do it in kindness, and is one I am beholden to. So to bed very weary, and a little galled for lack of riding, praying to God for a good journey to my father, of whom I am afeard, he being so lately ill of his pain.
. Being weary last night, I slept till almost seven o’clock, a thing I have not done many a day. So up and to my office (being come to some angry words with my wife about neglecting the keeping of the house clean, I calling her beggar, and she me pricklouse, which vexed me) and there all the morning. So to the Exchange and then home to dinner, and very merry and well pleased with my wife, and so to the office again, where we met extraordinary upon drawing up the debts of the Navy to my Lord Treasurer. So rose and up to Sir W. Penn to drink a glass of bad syder in his new far low dining room, which is very noble, and so home, where Captain Ferrers and his lady are come to see my wife, he being to go the beginning of next week to France to sea and I think to fetch over my young Lord Hinchinbroke. They being gone I to my office to write letters by the post, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up before 5 o’clock and alone at setting my Brampton papers to rights according to my father’s and my computation and resolution the other day to my good content, I finding that there will be clear saved to us £50 per annum, only a debt of it may be £100. So made myself ready and to church, where Sir W. Penn showed me the young lady which young Dawes,1766 that sits in the new corner-pew in the church, hath stole away from Sir Andrew Rickard,1767 her guardian, worth £1,000 per annum present, good land, and some money, and a very well-bred and handsome lady: he, I doubt, but a simple fellow. However, he got this good luck to get her, which methinks I could envy him with all my heart. Home to dinner with my wife, who not being very well did not dress herself but stayed at home all day, and so I to church in the afternoon and so home again, and up to teach Ashwell the grounds of time and other things on the triangle, and made her take out a Psalm very well, she having a good ear and hand. And so a while to my office, and then home to supper and prayers, to bed, my wife and I having a little falling out because I would not leave my discourse below with her and Ashwell to go up and talk with her alone upon something she has to say. She reproached me but I had rather talk with anybody than her, by which I find I think she is jealous of my freedom with Ashwell, which I must avoid giving occasion of.
. Up betimes and to setting my Brampton papers in order and looking over my wardrobe against summer, and laying things in order to send to my brother to alter. By and by took boat intending to have gone down to Woolwich, but seeing I could not get back time enough to dinner, I returned and home. Whither by and by the dancing-master1768 came, whom standing by, seeing him instructing my wife, when he had done with her, he would needs have me try the steps of a coranto, and what with his desire and my wife’s importunity, I did begin, and then was obliged to give him entry-money 10s., and am become his scholler. The truth is, I think it a thing very useful for a gentleman, and sometimes I may have occasion of using it, and though it cost me what I am heartily sorry it should, besides that I must by my oath give half as much more to the poor, yet I am resolved to get it up some other way, and then it will not be above a month or two in a year. So though it be against my stomach yet I will try it a little while; if I see it comes to any great inconvenience or charge I will fling it off. After I had begun with the steps of half a coranto, which I think I shall learn well enough, he went away, and we to dinner, and by and by out by coach, and set my wife down at my Lord Crew’s, going to see my Lady Jem. Montagu, who is lately come to town, and I to St. James’s; where Mr. Coventry, Sir W. Penn and I stayed a good while for the Duke’s coming in, but not coming, we walked to Whitehall; and meeting the King, we followed him into the Park, where Mr. Coventry and he talked of building a new yacht, which the King is resolved to have built out of his privy purse, he having some contrivance of his own. The talk being done, we fell off to Whitehall, leaving the King in the Park, and going back, met the Duke going towards St. James’s to meet us. So he turned back again, and to his closet at Whitehall; and there, my Lord Sandwich present, we did our weekly errand, and so broke up; and I down into the garden with my Lord Sandwich (after we had sat an hour at the Tangier Committee); and after talking largely of his own businesses, we begun to talk how matters are at Court: and though he did not flatly tell me any such thing, yet I do suspect that all is not kind between the King and the Duke, and that the King’s fondness to the little Duke do occasion it; and it may be that there is some fear of his being made heir to the Crown. But this my Lord did not tell me, but is my guess only; and that my Lord Chancellor is without doubt falling past hopes. He being gone to Chelsey by coach I to his lodgings, where my wife stayed for me, and she from thence to see Mrs. Pierce and called me at Whitehall Stairs (where I went before by land to know whether there was any play at Court tonight) and there being none she and I to Mr. Creed to the Exchange, where she bought something, and from thence by water to White Fryars, and wife to see Mrs. Turner, and then came to me at my brother’s, where I did give him order about my summer clothes, and so home by coach, and after supper to bed to my wife, with whom I have not lain since I used to lie with my father till tonight.
. Up betimes and to my office, and there busy all the morning, among other things walked a good while up and down with Sir J. Minnes, he telling many old stories of the Navy, and of the state of the Navy at the beginning of the late troubles, and I am troubled at my heart to think, and shall hereafter cease to wonder, at the bad success of the King’s cause, when such a knave as he (if it be true what he says) had the whole management of the fleet, and the design of putting out of my Lord Warwick,1769 and carrying the fleet to the King, wherein he failed most fatally to the King’s ruin. Dined at home, and after dinner up to try my dance, and so to the office again, where we sat all the afternoon. In the evening Deane of Woolwich went home with me and showed me the use of a little sliding ruler, less than that I bought the other day, which is the same with that, but more portable; however I did not seem to understand or even to have seen anything of it before, but I find him an ingenious fellow, and a good servant in his place to the King. Thence to my office busy writing letters, and then came Sir W. Warren, staying for a letter in his business by the post, and while that was writing he and I talked about merchandise, trade, and getting of money. I made it my business to enquire what way there is for a man bred like me to come to understand anything of trade. He did most discretely answer me in all things, showing me the danger for me to meddle either in ships or merchandise of any sort or common stocks, but what I have to keep at interest, which is a good, quiet, and easy profit, and once in a little while something offers that with ready money you may make use of money to good profit. Wherein I concur much with him, and parted late with great pleasure and content in his discourse, and so home to supper and to bed. It has been this afternoon very hot and this evening also, and about 11 at night going to bed it fell a-thundering and lightening, the greatest flashes enlightening the whole body of the yard, that ever I saw in my life.
. Up betimes and to my office a good while at my new rulers, then to business, and towards noon to the Exchange with Creed, where we met with Sir J. Minnes coming in his coach from Westminster, who tells us, in great heat, that, by God, the Parliament will make mad work; that they will render all men incapable of any military or civil employment that have borne arms in the late troubles against the King, excepting some persons; which, if it be so, as I hope it is not, will give great cause of discontent, and I doubt will have but bad effects. I left them at the Exchange and walked to Paul’s Churchyard to look upon a book or two, and so back, and thence to the Trinity House, and there dined, where, among other discourse worth hearing among the old seamen, they tell us that they have catched often in Greenland in fishing whales with the iron grapnells that had formerly been struck into their bodies covered over with fat; that they have had eleven hogsheads of oil out of the tongue of a whale. Thence after dinner home to my office, and there busy till the evening. Then home and to supper, and while at supper comes Mr. Pembleton, and after supper we up to our dancing room and there danced three or four country dances, and after that a practice of my coranto I began with him the other day, and I begin to think that I shall be able to do something at it in time. Late and merry at it, and so weary to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office awhile, and then by water with my wife, leaving her at the new Exchange, and I to see Dr. Williams, and spoke with him about my business with Tom Trice, and so to my brother’s, who I find very careful nowadays, more than ordinary in his business and like to do well. From thence to Westminster, and there up and down from the Hall to the Lobby, the Parliament sitting. Sir Thomas Crew this day tells me that the Queen, hearing that there was £40,000 per annum brought into her account among the other expenses of the Crown to the Committee of Parliament, she took order to let them know that she hath yet for the payment of her whole family received but £4,000, which is a notable act of spirit, and I believe is true. So by coach to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined with him. He tells me of the order the House of Commons have made for the drawing an Act for the rendering none capable of preferment or employment in the State, but who have been loyal and constant to the King and Church; which will be fatal to a great many, and makes me doubt lest I myself, with all my innocence during the late times, should be brought in, being employed in the Exchequer; but, I hope, God will provide for me. This day the new Theatre Royal1770 begins to act with scenes the Humourous Lieutenant, but I have not time to see it, nor could stay to see my Lady Jemimah lately come to town, and who was here in the house, but dined above with her grandmother. But taking my wife at my brother’s home by coach, and the officers being at Deptford at a Pay we had no office, but I took my wife by water and so spent the evening, and so home with great pleasure to supper, and then to bed.
. Up very early and to my office, there preparing letters to my father of great import in the settling of our affairs, and putting him upon a way [of] good husbandry, I promising to make out of my own purse him up to £50 per annum, till either by my uncle Thomas’s death or the fall of the Wardrobe place he be otherwise provided. That done I by water to the Strand, and there viewed the Queen-Mother’s works at Somersett House,1771 and thence to the new playhouse, but could not get in to see it. So to visit my Lady Jemimah, who is grown much since I saw her; but lacks mightily to be brought into the fashion of the court to set her off: Thence to the Temple, and there sat till one o’clock reading at Playford’s in Dr. Usher’s Body of Divinity1772 his discourse of the Scripture, which is as much, I believe, as is anywhere said by any man, but yet there is room to cavill, if a man would use no faith to the tradition of the Church in which he is born, which I think to be as good an argument as most is brought for many things, and it may be for that among others. Thence to my brother’s, and there took up my wife and Ashwell to the Theatre Royal,1773 being the second day of its being opened. The house is made with extraordinary good contrivance, and yet hath some faults, as the narrowness of the passages in and out of the Pit, and the distance from the stage to the boxes, which I am confident cannot hear; but for all other things it is well, only, above all, the music being below, and most of it sounding under the very stage, there is no hearing of the bases at all, nor very well of the trebles, which sure must be mended.1774 The play was The Humerous Lieutenant,1775 a play that hath little good in it, nor much in the very part which, by the King’s command, Lacy now acts instead of Clun. In the dance, the tall devil’s actions was very pretty. The play being done, we home by water, having been a little shamed that my wife and woman were in such a pickle, all the ladies being finer and better dressed in the pit than they used, I think, to be. To my office to set down this day’s passage, and, though my oath against going to plays do not oblige me against this house, because it was not then in being, yet believing that at the time my meaning was against all public houses, I am resolved to deny myself the liberty of two plays at Court, which are in arreare to me for the months of March and April, which will more than countervail this excess, so that this month of May is the first that I must claim a liberty of going to a Court play according to my oath. So home to supper, and at supper comes Pembleton, and afterwards we all up to dancing till late, and so broke up and to bed, and they say that I am like to make a dancer.
. Up betimes and to my office, whither sooner than ordinary comes Mr. Hater desiring to speak a word to me alone, which I was from the disorder of his countenance amused at, and so the poor man began telling me that by Providence being the last Lord’s day at a meeting of some Friends upon doing of their duties, they were surprised, and he carried to the Counter, but afterwards released; however, hearing that Sir W. Batten do hear of [it,] he thought it good to give me an account of it, lest it might tend to any prejudice to me. I was extraordinary surprised with it, and troubled for him, knowing that now it is out it is impossible for me to conceal it, or keep him in employment under me without danger to myself. I cast about all I could, and did give him the best advice I could, desiring to know if I should promise that he would not for the time to come commit the same, he told me he desired that I would rather forbear to promise that, for he durst not do it, whatever God in His providence shall do with him, and that for my part he did bless God and thank me for all the love and kindness I have showed him hitherto. I could not without tears in my eyes discourse with him further, but at last did pitch upon telling the truth of the whole to Mr. Coventry as soon as I could, and to that end did use means to prevent Sir W. Batten (who came to town last night) from going to that end today, lest he might doe it to Sir G. Carteret or Mr. Coventry before me; which I did prevail and kept him at the office all the morning. At noon dined at home with a heavy heart for the poor man, and after dinner went out to my brother’s, and thence to Westminster, where at Mr. Jervas’s, my old barber, I did try two or three borders and periwig, meaning to wear one; and yet I have no stomach [for it,] but that the pains of keeping my hair clean is so great. He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble that I foresee will be in wearing them also. Thence by water home and to the office, where busy late, and so home to supper and bed, with my mind much troubled about T. Hater.
. Up betimes, and put on a black cloth suit, with white lynings under all, as the fashion is to wear, to appear under the breeches. So being ready walked to St. James’s, where I sat talking with Mr. Coventry, while he made himself ready, about several businesses of the Navy, and afterwards, the Duke being gone out, he and I walked to Whitehall together over the Park, I telling him what had happened to Tom Hater, at which he seems very sorry, but tells me that if it is not made very public, it will not be necessary to put him away at present, but give him good caution for the time to come. However, he will speak to the Duke about it and know his pleasure. Parted with him there, and I walked back to St. James’s, and was there at mass, and was forced in the crowd to kneel down; and mass being done, to the King’s Head ordinary, whither I sent for Mr. Creed and there we dined, where many Parliament-men; and most of their talk was about the news from Scotland, that the Bishop of Galloway was besieged in his house by some woman, and had like to have been outraged, but I know not how he was secured; which is bad news, and looks just as it did in the beginning of the late troubles. From thence they talked of rebellion; and I perceive they make it their great maxime to be sure to master the City of London, whatever comes of it or from it. After that to some other discourse, and, among other things, talking of the way of ordinaries, that it is very convenient, because a man knows what he hath to pay: one did wish that, among many bad, we could learn two good things of France, which were that we would not think it below the gentleman, or person of honour at a tavern, to bargain for his meat before he eats it; and next, to take no servant without certificate from some friend or gentleman of his good behaviour and abilities. Hence with Creed into St. James’s Park, and there walked all the afternoon, and thence on foot home, and after a little while at my office walked in the garden with my wife, and so home to supper, and after prayers to bed. My brother Tom supped with me, and should have brought my aunt Ellen with him; she was not free to go abroad.
. Up betimes, and by water to Woolwich on board the Royal James, to see in what dispatch she is to be carried about to Chatham. So to the yard a little, and thence on foot to Greenwich, where going I was set upon by a great dog, who got hold of my garters, and might have done me hurt; but, Lord, to see in what a maze I was, that, having a sword about me, I never thought of it, or had the heart to make use of it, but might, for want of that courage, have been worried. Took water there and home, and both coming and going did con my lesson on my Ruler to measure timber, which I think I can well undertake now to do. At home there being Pembleton I danced, and I think shall come on to do something in a little time, and after dinner by coach with Sir W. Penn (setting down his daughter at Clerkenwell), to St. James’s, where we attended the Duke of York: and, among other things, Sir G. Carteret and I had a great dispute about the different value of the pieces of eight rated by Mr. Creed at 4s. and 5d., and by Pitts at 4s. and 9d.,1776 which was the greatest husbandry to the King? he persisting that the greatest sum was; which is as ridiculous a piece of ignorance as could be imagined. However, it is to be argued at the Board, and reported to the Duke next week; which I shall do with advantage, I hope. Thence to the Tangier Committee, where we should have concluded in sending Captain Cuttance and the rest to Tangier to deliberate upon the design of the Mole before they begin to work upon it, but there being not a committee (my Lord intending to be there but was taken up at my Lady Castlemayne’s) I parted and went homeward, after a little discourse with Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who tells me that my Lady Castlemaine hath now got lodgings near the King’s chamber at Court; and that the other day Dr. Clerke and he did dissect two bodies, a man and a woman, before the King, with which the King was highly pleased. By water and called upon Tom Trice by appointment with Dr. Williams, but the Dr. did not come, it seems by T. Trice’s desire, not thinking he should be at leisure. However, in general we talked of our business, and I do not find that he will come to any lower terms than £150, which I think I shall not give him but by law, and so we parted, and I called upon Mr. Crumlum, and did give him the 10s. remaining, not laid out of the £5 I promised him for the school, with which he will buy strings, and golden letters upon the books I did give them. I sat with him and his wife a great while talking, and she is [a] pretty woman, never yet with child, and methinks looks as if her mouth watered now and then upon some of her boys. Then upon Tom Pepys, the Turner, desiring his father and his letter to Piggott signifying his consent to the selling of his land for the paying of us his money, and so home, and finding Pembleton there we did dance till it was late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up between four and five, and after dressing myself then to my office to prepare business against the afternoon, where all the morning, and dined at noon at home, where a little angry with my wife for minding nothing now but the dancing-master, having him come twice a day, which is a folly. Again, to my office. We sat till late, our chief business being the reconciling the business of the pieces of eight mentioned yesterday before the Duke of York, wherein I have got the day, and they are all brought over to what I said, of which I am proud. Late writing letters, and so home to supper and to bed. Here I found Creed staying for me, and so after supper I stayed him all night and lay with me, our great discourse being the folly of our two doting knights, of which I am ashamed.
. Lay till 6 o’clock and then up, and after a little talk and mirth, he went away, and I to my office, where busy all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and after dinner Pembleton came and I practised. But, Lord! to see how my wife will not be thought to need telling by me or Ashwell, and yet will plead that she has learnt but a month, which causes many short fallings out between us. So to my office, whither one-eyed Cooper came to see me, and I made him to show me the use of plats, and to understand the lines, and how to find how lands bear, etc., to my great content. Then came Mr. Barrow, storekeeper of Chatham, who tells me many things, how basely Sir W. Batten has carried himself to him, and in all things else like a passionate dotard, to the King’s great wrong. God mend all, for I am sure we are but in an ill condition in the Navy, however the King is served in other places. Home to supper, to cards, and to bed.
. Up betimes and put up some things to send to Brampton. Then abroad to the Temple, and up and down about business, and met Mr. Moore; and with him to an alehouse in Holborn; where in discourse he told me that he fears the King will be tempted to endeavour the setting the Crown upon the little Duke, which may cause troubles; which God forbid, unless it be his due! He told me my Lord do begin to settle to business again, which I am glad of, for he must not sit out, now he has done his own business by getting his estate settled, and that the King did send for him the other day to my Lady Castlemaine’s, to play at cards, where he lost £50; for which I am sorry, though he says my Lord was pleased at it, and said he would be glad at any time to lose £50 for the King to send for him to play, which I do not so well like. Thence home, and after dinner to the office, where we sat till night, and then made up my papers and letters by the post, and so home to dance with Pembleton. This day we received a basket from my sister Pall, made by her of paper, which hath a great deal of labour in it for country innocent work. After supper to bed, and going to bed received a letter from Mr. Coventry desiring my coming to him tomorrow morning, which troubled me to think what the business should be, fearing it must be some bad news in Tom Hater’s business.
. Up betimes and walked to St. James’s, where Mr. Coventry being in bed I walked in the Park, discoursing with the keeper of the Pell Mell,1777 who was sweeping of it; who told me of what the earth is mixed that do floor the Mall, and that over all there is cockleshells powdered, and spread to keep it fast; which, however, in dry weather, turns to dust and deads the ball. Thence to Mr. Coventry; and sitting by his bedside, he did tell me that he sent for me to discourse upon my Lord Sandwich’s allowances for his several pays, and what his thoughts are concerning his demands; which he could not take the freedom to do face to face, it being not so proper as by me: and did give me a most friendly and ingenuous account of all; telling me how unsafe, at this juncture, while every man’s, and his actions particularly, are descanted upon, it is either for him to put the Duke upon doing, or my Lord himself to desire anything extraordinary, ’specially the King having been so bountiful already; which the world takes notice of even to some repinings. All which he did desire me to discourse with my Lord of; which I have undertook to do. We talked also of our office in general, with which he told me that he was nowadays nothing so satisfied as he was wont to be. I confess I told him things are ordered in that way that we must of necessity break in a little time a pieces. After done with him about these things, he told me that for Mr. Hater the Duke’s word was in short that he found he had a good servant, an Anabaptist, and unless he did carry himself more to the scandal of the office, he would bear with his opinion till he heard further, which do please me very much. Thence walked to Westminster, and there up and down in the Hall and the Parliament House all the morning; at noon by coach to my Lord Crew’s, hearing that Lord Sandwich did dine there; where I told him what had passed between Mr. Coventry and myself; with which he was contented, though I could perceive not very well pleased. And I do believe that my Lord do find some other things go against his mind in the House; for in the motion made the other day in the House by my Lord Bruce,1778 that none be capable of employment but such as have been loyal and constant to the King and Church, the General [Monk] and my Lord were mentioned to be excepted; and my Lord Bruce did come since to my Lord, to clear himself that he meant nothing to his prejudice, nor could it have any such effect if he did mean it. After discourse with my Lord; to dinner with him; there dining there my Lord Montagu1779 of Boughton, Mr. William Montagu his brother, the Queen’s Solicitor, etc.,1780 and a fine dinner. Their talk about a ridiculous falling-out two days ago at my Lord of Oxford’s house, at an entertainment of his, there being there my Lord of Albemarle, Lynsey,1781 two of the Porters,1782 my Lord Bellasses, and others, where there were high words and some blows, and pulling off of periwigs; till my Lord Monk took away some of their swords, and sent for some soldiers to guard the house till the fray was ended. To such a degree of madness the nobility of this age is come! After dinner I went up to Sir Thomas Crew, who lies there not very well in his head, being troubled with vapours and fits of dizziness: and there I sat talking with him all the afternoon from one discourse to another, the most was upon the unhappy posture of things at this time; that the King do mind nothing but pleasures, and hates the very sight or thoughts of business; that my Lady Castlemaine rules him, who, he says, hath all the tricks of Aretin1783 that are to be practised to give pleasure. In which he is too able … but what is the unhappiness in that, as the Italian proverb says, “lazzo dritto non vuolt consiglio.” If any of the sober counsellors give him good advice, and move him in anything that is to his good and honour, the other part, which are his counsellers of pleasure, take him when he is with my Lady Castlemaine, and in a humour of delight, and then persuade him that he ought not to hear nor listen to the advice of those old dotards or counsellors that were heretofore his enemies: when, God knows! it is they that nowadays do most study his honour. It seems the present favourites now are my Lord Bristol, Duke of Buckingham, Sir H. Bennet, my Lord Ashley, and Sir Charles Barkeley; who, among them, have cast my Lord Chancellor upon his back, past ever getting up again; there being now little for him to do, and he waits at Court attending to speak to the King as others do: which I pray God may prove of good effects, for it is feared it will be the same with my Lord Treasurer shortly. But strange to hear how my Lord Ashley, by my Lord Bristol’s means (he being brought over to the Catholic party against the Bishops, whom he hates to the death, and publicly rails against them; not that he is become a Catholic, but merely opposes the Bishops; and yet, for aught I hear, the Bishop of London keeps as great with the King as ever) is got into favour, so much that, being a man of great business and yet of pleasure, and drolling too, he, it is thought, will be made Lord Treasurer upon the death or removal of the good old man.1784 My Lord Albemarle, I hear, do bear through and bustle among them, and will not be removed from the King’s good opinion and favour, though none of the Cabinet; but yet he is envied enough. It is made very doubtful whether the King do not intend the making of the Duke of Monmouth legitimate;1785 but surely the Commons of England will never do it, nor the Duke of York suffer it, whose lady, I am told, is very troublesome to him by her jealousy. But it is wonderful that Sir Charles Barkeley should be so great still, not [only] with the King, but Duke also; who did so stiffly swear that he had lain with her.1786 And another one Armour that he rode before her on horseback in Holland I think. … No care is observed to be taken of the main chance, either for maintaining of trade or opposing of factions, which, God knows, are ready to break out, if any of them (which God forbid!) should dare to begin; the King and every man about him minding so much their pleasures or profits. My Lord Hinchingbroke, I am told, hath had a mischance to kill his boy by his birding-piece going off as he was a-fowling. The gun was charged with small shot, and hit the boy in the face and about the temples, and he lived four days. In Scotland, it seems, for all the news-books tell us every week that they are all so quiet, and everything in the Church settled, the old woman had like to have killed, the other day, the Bishop of Galloway, and not half the Churches of the whole kingdom conform. Strange were the effects of the late thunder and lightning about a week since at Northampton, coming with great rain, which caused extraordinary floods in a few hours, bearing away bridges, drowning horses, men, and cattle. Two men passing over a bridge on horseback, the arches before and behind them were borne away, and that left which they were upon: but, however, one of the horses fell over, and was drowned. Stacks of faggots carried as high as a steeple, and other dreadful things; which Sir Thomas Crew showed me letters to him about from Mr. Freemantle and others, that it is very true. The Portugals have choused us,1787 it seems, in the Island of Bombay, in the East Indies; for after a great charge of our fleets being sent thither with full commission from the King of Portugal to receive it, the Governour by some pretence or other will not deliver it to Sir Abraham Shipman, sent from the King, nor to my Lord of Marlborough;1788 which the King takes highly ill, and I fear our Queen will fare the worse for it. The Dutch decay there exceedingly, it being believed that their people will revolt from them there, and they forced to give over their trade. This is talked of among us, but how true I understand not. Sir Thomas showed me his picture and Sir Anthony Vandike’s, in crayon in little, done exceedingly well. Having thus freely talked with him, and of many more things, I took leave, and by coach to St. James’s, and there told Mr. Coventry what I had done with my Lord with great satisfaction, and so well pleased home, where I found it almost night, and my wife and the dancing-master alone above, not dancing but talking. Now so deadly full of jealousy I am that my heart and head did so cast about and fret that I could not do any business possibly, but went out to my office, and anon late home again and ready to chide at everything, and then suddenly to bed and could hardly sleep, yet durst not say anything, but was forced to say that I had bad news from the Duke concerning Tom Hater as an excuse to my wife, who by my folly has too much opportunity given her with the man, who is a pretty neat black man, but married. But it is a deadly folly and plague that I bring upon myself to be so jealous and by giving myself such an occasion more than my wife desired of giving her another month’s dancing. Which however shall be ended as soon as I can possibly. But I am ashamed to think what a course I did take by lying to see whether my wife did wear drawers today as she used to do, and other things to raise my suspicion of her, but I found no true cause of doing it.
. Up with my mind disturbed and with my last night’s doubts upon me, for which I deserve to be beaten if not really served as I am fearful of being, especially since God knows that I do not find honesty enough in my own mind but that upon a small temptation I could be false to her, and therefore ought not to expect more justice from her, but God pardon both my sin and my folly herein. To my office and there sitting all the morning, and at noon dined at home. After dinner comes Pembleton, and I being out of humour would not see him, pretending business, but, Lord! with what jealousy did I walk up and down my chamber listening to hear whether they danced or no, which they did, notwithstanding I afterwards knew and did then believe that Ashwell was with them. So to my office awhile, and, my jealousy still reigning, I went in and, not out of any pleasure but from that only reason, did go up to them to practise, and did make an end of “La Duchesse,” which I think I should, with a little pains, do very well. So broke up and saw him gone. Then Captain Cocke coming to me to speak about my seeming discourtesy to him in the business of his hemp, I went to the office with him, and there discoursed it largely and I think to his satisfaction. Then to my business, writing letters and other things till late at night, and so home to supper and bed. My mind in some better ease resolving to prevent matters for the time to come as much as I can, it being to no purpose to trouble myself for what is past, being occasioned too by my own folly.
. Up and in my chamber all the morning, preparing my great letters to my father, stating to him the perfect condition of our estate.1789 My wife and Ashwell to church, and after dinner they to church again, and I all the afternoon making an end of my morning’s work, which I did about the evening, and then to talk with my wife till after supper, and so to bed having another small falling out and myself vexed with my old fit of jealousy about her dancing-master. But I am a fool for doing it. So to bed by daylight, I having a very great cold, so as I doubt whether I shall be able to speak tomorrow at our attending the Duke, being now so hoarse.
. Up and after taking leave of Sir W. Batten, who is gone this day towards Portsmouth (to little purpose, God knows) upon his survey, I home and spent the morning at dancing; at noon Creed dined with us and Mr. Deane Woolwich, and so after dinner came Mr. Howe, who however had enough for his dinner, and so, having done, by coach to Westminster, she to Mrs. Clerke and I to St. James’s, where the Duke being gone down by water today with the King I went thence to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, where Mr. Howe and I walked a while, and going towards Whitehall through the garden Dr. Clerk and Creed called me across the bowling green, and so I went thither and after a stay went up to Mrs. Clerke who was dressing herself to go abroad with my wife. But, Lord! in what a poor condition her best chamber is, and things about her, for all the outside and show that she makes, but I found her just such a one as Mrs. Pierce, contrary to my expectation, so much that I am sick and sorry to see it. Thence for an hour Creed and I walked to Whitehall, and into the Park, seeing the Queen and Maids of Honour passing through the house going to the Park. But above all, Mrs. Stuart is a fine woman, and they say now a common mistress to the King,1790 as my Lady Castlemaine is; which is a great pity. Thence taking a coach to Mrs. Clerke’s, took her, and my wife, and Ashwell, and a Frenchman, a kinsman of hers, to the Park, where we saw many fine faces, and one exceeding handsome, in a white dress over her head, with many others very beautiful. Staying there till past eight at night, I carried Mrs. Clerke and her Frenchman, who sings well, home, and thence home ourselves, talking much of what we had observed today of the poor household stuff of Mrs. Clerke and mere show and flutter that she makes in the world; and pleasing myself in my own house and manner of living more than ever I did by seeing how much better and more substantially I live than others do. So to supper and bed.
. Up pretty betimes, but yet I observe how my dancing and lying a morning or two longer than ordinary for my cold do make me hard to rise as I used to do, or look after my business as I am wont. To my chamber to make an end of my papers to my father to be sent by the post tonight, and taking copies of them, which was a great work, but I did it this morning, and so to my office, and thence with Sir John Minnes to the Tower; and by Mr. Slingsby, and Mr. Howard,1791 Controller of the Mint, we were shown the method of making this new money, from the beginning to the end, which is so pretty that I did take a note of every part of it and set them down by themselves for my remembrance hereafter. That being done it was dinner time, and so the Controller would have us dine with him and his company, the King giving them a dinner every day. And very merry and good discourse about the business we have been upon, and after dinner went to the Assay Office and there saw the manner of assaying of gold and silver, and how silver melted down with gold do part, just being put into aqua-fortis, the silver turning into water, and the gold lying whole in the very form it was put in, mixed of gold and silver, which is a miracle; and to see no silver at all but turned into water, which they can bring again into itself out of the water. And here I was made thoroughly to understand the business of the fineness and coarseness of metals, and have put down my lessons with my other observations therein. At table among other discourse they told us of two cheats, the best I ever heard. One, of a labourer discovered to convey away the bits of silver cut out pence by swallowing them down into his belly, and so they could not find him out, though, of course, they searched all the labourers; but, having reason to doubt him, they did, by threats and promises, get him to confess, and did find £7 of it in his house at one time. The other of one that got a way of coining money as good and passable and large as the true money is, and yet saved fifty percent to himself, which was by getting moulds made to stamp groats like old groats, which is done so well, and I did beg two of them which I keep for rarities, that there is not better in the world, and is as good, nay, better than those that commonly go, which was the only thing that they could find out to doubt them by, besides the number that the party do go to put off, and then coming to the Comptroller of the Mint, he could not, I say, find out any other thing to raise any doubt upon, but only their being so truly round or near it, though I should never have doubted the thing neither. He was neither hanged nor burned, the cheat was thought so ingenious, and being the first time they could ever trap him in it, and so little hurt to any man in it, the money being as good as commonly goes. Thence to the office till the evening, we sat, and then by water (taking Pembleton with us), over the water to the Halfway House, where we played at ninepins, and there my damned jealousy took fire, he and my wife being of a side and I seeing of him take her by the hand in play, though I now believe he did [it] only in passing and sport. Thence home and being 10 o’clock was forced to land beyond the Custom House, and so walked home and to my office, and having dispatched my great letters by the post to my father, of which I keep copies to show by me and for my future understanding, I went home to supper and bed, being late. The most observables in the making of money which I observed today, is the steps of their doing it.
Before they do anything they assay the bullion, which is done, if it be gold, by taking an equal weight of that and of silver, of each a small weight, which they reckon to be six ounces or half a pound troy; this they wrap up in within lead. If it be silver, they put such a quantity of that alone and wrap it up in lead, and then putting them into little earthen cups made of stuff like tobacco pipes, and put them into a burning hot furnace, where, after a while, the whole body is melted, and at last the lead in both is sunk into the body of the cup, which carries away all the copper or dross with it, and left the pure gold and silver embodied together, of that which hath both been put into the cup together, and the silver alone in these where it was put alone in the leaden case. And to part the silver and the gold in the first experiment, they put the mixed body into a glass of aqua-fortis, which separates them by spitting out the silver into such small parts that you cannot tell what it becomes, but turns into the very water and leaves the gold at the bottom clear of itself, with the silver wholly spit out, and yet the gold in the form that it was doubled together in when it was a mixed body of gold and silver, which is a great mystery; and after all this is done to get the silver together out of the water is as strange. But the nature of the assay is thus: the piece of gold that goes into the furnace twelve ounces, if it comes out again eleven ounces, and the piece of silver which goes in twelve and comes out again eleven and two pennyweight, are just of the alloy of the standard of England. If it comes out, either of them, either the gold above eleven, as very fine will sometimes within very little of what it went in, or the silver above eleven and two pennyweight, as that also will sometimes come out eleven and ten penny weight or more, they are so much above the goodness of the standard, and so they know what proportion of worse gold and silver to put to such a quantity of the bullion to bring it to the exact standard. And on the contrary, [if] it comes out lighter, then such a weight is beneath the standard, and so requires such a proportion of fine metal to be put to the bullion to bring it to the standard, and this is the difference of good and bad, better and worse than the standard, and also the difference of standards, that of Seville being the best and that of Mexico worst, and I think they said none but Seville is better than ours.
They melt it into long plates, which, if the mould do take air, then the plate is not of an equal heaviness in every part of it, as it often falls out.
They draw these plates between rollers to bring them to an even thickness all along and every plate of the same thickness, and it is very strange how the drawing it twice easily between the rollers will make it as hot as fire, yet cannot touch it.
They bring it to another pair of rollers, which they call adjusting it, which bring it to a greater exactness in its thickness than the first could be.
They cut them into round pieces, which they do with the greatest ease, speed, and exactness in the world.
They weigh these, and where they find any to be too heavy they file them, which they call sizing them; or light, they lay them by, which is very seldom, but they are of a most exact weight, but however, in the melting, all parts by some accident not being close alike, now and then a difference will be, and, this filing being done, there shall not be any imaginable difference almost between the weight of forty of these against another forty chosen by chance out of all their heaps.
These round pieces having been cut out of the plates, which in passing the rollers are bent, they are sometimes a little crooked or swelling out or sinking in, and therefore they have a way of clapping 100 or 2 together into an engine, which with a screw presses them so hard that they come out as flat as is possible.
They blanch them.
They mark the letters on the edges, which is kept as the great secret by Blondeau, who was not in the way, and so I did not speak with him today.1792
They mill them, that is, put on the marks on both sides at once with great exactness and speed, and then the money is perfect. The mill is after this manner: one of the dyes, which has one side of the piece cut, is fastened to a thing fixed below, and the other dye (and they tell me a pair of dyes will last the marking of £10,000 before it be worn out, they and all other their tools being made of hardened steel, and the Dutchman who makes them is an admirable artist, and has so much by the pound for every pound that is coined to find a constant supply of dyes) to an engine above, which is moveable by a screw, which is pulled by men; and then a piece being clapped by one sitting below between the two dyes, when they meet the impression is set, and then the man with his finger strikes off the piece and claps another in, and then the other men they pull again and that is marked, and then another and another with great speed. They say that this way is more charge to the King than the old way, but it is neater, freer from clipping or counterfeiting, the putting of the words upon the edges being not to be done (though counterfeited) without an engine of the charge and noise that no counterfeit will be at or venture upon, and it employs as many men as the old and speedier. They now coin between £16 and £24,000 in a week. At dinner they did discourse very finely to us of the probability that there is a vast deal of money hid in the land, from this:—that in King Charles’s time there was near ten millions of money coined, besides what was then in being of King James’s and Queen Elizabeth’s, of which there is a good deal at this day in being. Next, that there was but £750,000 coined of the Harp and Crosse money,1793 and of this there was £500,000 brought in upon its being called in. And from very good arguments they find that there cannot be less of it in Ireland and Scotland than £100,000; so that there is but £150,000 missing; and of that, suppose that there should be not above £650,000 still remaining, either melted down, hid, or lost, or hoarded up in England, there will then be but £100,000 left to be thought to have been transported. Now, if £750,000 in twelve years’ time lost but a £100,000 in danger of being transported, then within thirty-five years’ time will have lost but £3,888,880 and odd pounds; and as there is £650,000 remaining after twelve years’ time in England, so after thirty-five years’ time, which was within this two years, there ought in proportion to have been resting £6,111,120 or thereabouts, beside King James’s and Queen Elizabeth’s money. Now that most of this must be hid is evident, as they reckon, because of the dearth of money immediately upon the calling-in of the State’s money, which was £500,000 that came in; and yet there was not any money to be had in this City, which they say to their own observation and knowledge was so. And therefore, though I can say nothing in it myself, I do not dispute it.
. Up and to my office, and anon home and to see my wife dancing with Pembleton about noon, and I to the Trinity House to dinner and after dinner home, and there met Pembleton, who I perceive has dined with my wife, which she takes no notice of, but whether that proceeds out of design, or fear to displease me I know not, but it put me into a great disorder again, that I could mind nothing but vexing, but however I continued my resolution of going down by water to Woolwich, took my wife and Ashwell; and going out met Mr. Howe come to see me, whose horse we caused to be set up, and took him with us. The tide against us, so I went ashore at Greenwich before, and did my business at the yard about putting things in order as to their proceeding to build the new yacht ordered to be built by Christopher Pett,1794 and so to Woolwich town, where at an alehouse I found them ready to attend my coming, and so took boat again, it being cold, and I sweating, with my walk, which was very pleasant along the green corne and peas, and most of the way sang, he and I, and eat some cold meat we had, and with great pleasure home, and so he took horse again, and Pembleton coming, we danced a country dance or two and so broke up and to bed, my mind restless and like to be so while she learns to dance. God forgive my folly.
. Up, but cannot get up so early as I was wont, nor my mind to business as it should be and used to be before this dancing. However, to my office, where most of the morning talking of Captain Cox of Chatham about his and the whole yard’s difference against Mr. Barrow the storekeeper, wherein I told him my mind clearly, that he would be upheld against the design of any to ruin him, he being we all believed, but Sir W. Batten his mortal enemy, as good a servant as any the King has in the yard. After much good advice and other talk I home and danced with Pembleton, and then the barber trimmed me, and so to dinner, my wife and I having high words about her dancing to that degree that I did enter and make a vow to myself not to oppose her or say anything to dispraise or correct her therein as long as her month lasts, in pain of 2s. 6d. for every time, which, if God pleases, I will observe, for this roguish business has brought us more disquiet than anything [that] has happened a great while. After dinner to my office, where late, and then home; and Pembleton being there again, we fell to dance a country dance or two, and so to supper and bed. But being at supper my wife did say something that caused me to oppose her in, she used the word devil, which vexed me, and among other things I said I would not have her to use that word, upon which she took me up most scornfully, which, before Ashwell and the rest of the world, I know not nowadays how to check, as I would heretofore, for less than that would have made me strike her. So that I fear without great discretion I shall go near to lose too my command over her, and nothing do it more than giving her this occasion of dancing and other pleasures, whereby her mind is taken up from her business and finds other sweets besides pleasing of me, and so makes her that she begins not at all to take pleasure in me or study to please me as heretofore. But if this month of her dancing were but out (as my first was this night, and I paid off Pembleton for myself) I shall hope with a little pains to bring her to her old wont. This day Susan that lived with me lately being out of service, and I doubt a simple wench, my wife do take her for a little time to try her at least till she goes into the country, which I am yet doubtful whether it will be best for me to send her or no, for fear of her running off in her liberty before I have brought her to her right temper again.
. Up pretty betimes, and shall, I hope, come to myself and business again, after a small playing the truant, for I find that my interest and profit do grow daily, for which God be praised and keep me to my duty. To my office, and anon one tells me that Rundall, the house-carpenter of Deptford, hath sent me a fine blackbird, which I went to see. He tells me he was offered 20s. for him as he came along, he do so whistle. So to my office, and busy all the morning, among other things, learning to understand the course of the tides, and I think I do now do it. At noon Mr. Creed comes to me, and he and I to the Exchange, where I had much discourse with several merchants, and so home with him to dinner, and then by water to Greenwich, and calling at the little alehouse at the end of the town to wrap a rag about my little left toe, being new sore with walking, we walked pleasantly to Woolwich, in our way hearing the nightingales sing. So to Woolwich yard, and after doing many things there, among others preparing myself for a dispute against Sir W. Penn in the business of Bowyer’s, wherein he is guilty of some corruption to the King’s wrong, we walked back again without drinking, which I never do because I would not make my coming troublesome to any, nor would become obliged too much to any. In our going back we were overtook by Mr. Steventon, a purser, and uncle to my clerk Will, who told me how he was abused in the passing of his accounts by Sir J. Minnes to the degree that I am ashamed to hear it, and resolve to retrieve the matter if I can though the poor man has given it over. And however am pleased enough to see that others do see his folly and dotage as well as myself, though I believe in my mind the man in general means well. Took boat at Greenwich and to Deptford, where I did the same thing, and found Davis, the storekeeper, a knave, and shuffling in the business of Bewpers, being of the party with Young and Whistler to abuse the King, but I hope I shall be even with them. So walked to Redriffe, drinking at the Halfway house, and so walked and by water to Whitehall, all our way by water coming and going reading a little book said to be writ by a person of Quality concerning English gentry to be preferred before titular honours, but the most silly nonsense, no sense nor grammar, yet in as good words that ever I saw in all my life, but from beginning to end you met not with one entire and regular sentence. At Whitehall Sir G. Carteret was out of the way, and so returned back presently, and home by water and to bed.
. Waked this morning between four and five by my blackbird, which whistles as well as ever I heard any; only it is the beginning of many tunes very well, but there leaves them, and goes no further. So up and to my office, where we sat, and among other things I had a fray with Sir J. Minnes in defence of my Will in a business where the old coxcomb would have put a foot upon him, which was only in Jack Davis and in him a downright piece of knavery in procuring a double ticket and getting the wrong one paid as well as the second was to the true party. But it appeared clear enough to the board that Will was true in it. Home to dinner, and after dinner by water to the Temple, and there took my Lyra Viol1795 book bound up with blank paper for new lessons. Thence to Greatorex’s, and there seeing Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Penn go by coach I went in to them and to Whitehall; where, in the Matted Gallery, Mr. Coventry was, who told us how the Parliament have required of Sir G. Carteret and him an account what money shall be necessary to be settled upon the Navy for the ordinary charge, which they intend to report £200,000 per annum. And how to allot this we met this afternoon, and took their papers for our perusal, and so we parted. Only there was walking in the gallery some of the Barbary company, and there we saw a draught of the arms of the company, which the King is of, and so is called the Royal Company, which is, in a field argent an elephant proper, with a canton on which England and France is quartered, supported by two Moors. The crest an anchor winged, I think it is, and the motto too tedious: Regio floret, patrocinio commercium, commercioque Regnum.1796 Thence back by water to Greatorex’s, and there he showed me his varnish which he had invented, which appears every whit as good, upon a stick which he hath done, as the Indian, though it did not do very well upon my paper ruled with music lines, for it sunk and did not shine. Thence home by water, and after a dance with Pembleton to my office and wrote by the post to Sir W. Batten at Portsmouth to send for him up against next Wednesday, being our triall day against Field at Guildhall, in which God give us good end. So home to supper and to bed.
. Having taken one of Mr. Holliard’s pills last night it brought a stool or two this morning, and so forebore going to church this morning, but stayed at home looking over my papers about Tom Trice’s business, and so at noon dined, and my wife telling me that there was a pretty lady come to church with Peg Penn today, I against my intention had a mind to go to church to see her, and did so, and she is pretty handsome. But over against our gallery I espied Pembleton, and saw him leer upon my wife all the sermon, I taking no notice of him, and my wife upon him, and I observed she made a curtsey to him at coming out without taking notice to me at all of it, which with the consideration of her being desirous these two last Lord’s days to go to church both forenoon and afternoon do really make me suspect something more than ordinary, though I am loth to think the worst, but yet it put and do still keep me at a great loss in my mind, and makes me curse the time that I consented to her dancing, and more my continuing it a second month, which was more than she desired, even after I had seen too much of her carriage with him. But I must have patience and get her into the country, or at least to make an end of her learning to dance as soon as I can. After sermon to Sir W. Penn’s, with Sir J. Minnes to do a little business to answer Mr. Coventry tonight. And so home and with my wife and Ashwell into the garden walking a great while, discoursing what this pretty wench should be by her garb and deportment; with respect to Mrs. Penn she may be her woman, but only that she sat in the pew with her, which I believe he would not let her do. So home, and read to my wife a fable or two in Ogleby’s Aesop, and so to supper, and then to prayers and to bed. My wife this evening discoursing of making clothes for the country, which I seem against, pleading lack of money, but I am glad of it in some respects because of getting her out of the way from this fellow, and my own liberty to look after my business more than of late I have done. So to prayers and to bed. This morning it seems Susan, who I think is distracted, or however is since she went from me taught to drink, and so gets out of doors 2 or 3 times a day without leave to the alehouse, did go before 5 o’clock today, making Griffin rise in his shirt to let her out to the alehouse, she said to warm herself, but her mistress, falling out with her about it, turned her out of doors this morning, and so she is gone like an idle slut. I took a pill also this night.
. Up, and my pill working a little I stayed within most of the morning, and by and by the barber came and Sarah Kite my cousin, poor woman, came to see me and borrow 40s. of me, telling me she will pay it at Michaelmas again to me. I was glad it was no more, being indifferent whether she pays it me or no, but it will be a good excuse to lend her nor give her any more. So I did freely at first word do it, and give her a crown more freely to buy her child something, she being a good-natured and painful wretch, and one that I would do good for as far as I can that I might not be burdened. My wife was not ready, and she coming early did not see her, and I was glad of it. She gone, I up and then hear that my wife and her maid Ashwell had between them spilled the pot … upon the floor and stool and God knows what, and were mighty merry making of it clean. I took no great notice, but merrily. Ashwell did by and by come to me with an errand from her mistress to desire money to buy a country suit for her against she goes as we talked last night, and so I did give her £4, and believe it will cost me the best part of 4 more to fit her out, but with peace and honour I am willing to spare anything so as to be able to keep all ends together, and my power over her undisturbed. So to my office and by and by home, where my wife and her master were dancing, and so I stayed in my chamber till they had done, and sat down myself to try a little upon the Lyra viol, my hand being almost out, but easily brought to again. So by and by to dinner, and then carried my wife and Ashwell to St. James’s, and there they sat in the coach while I went in, and finding nobody there likely to meet with the Duke, but only Sir J. Minnes with my Lord Barkely (who speaks very kindly, and invites me with great compliments to come now and then and eat with him, which I am glad to hear, though I value not the thing, but it implies that my esteem do increase rather than fall), and so I stayed not, but into the coach again, and taking up my wife’s tailor, it raining hard, they set me down, and who should our coachman be but Carleton the Vintner, that should have had Mrs. Sarah, at Westminster, my Lord Chancellor’s, and then to Paternoster Row. I stayed there to speak with my Lord Sandwich, and in my staying, meeting Mr. Lewis Phillips of Brampton, he and afterwards others tell me that news came last night to Court, that the King of France is sick of the spotted fever, and that they are struck in again; and this afternoon my Lord Mandeville1797 is gone from the King to make him a visit; which will be great news, and of great import through Europe. By and by, out comes my Lord Sandwich, and he and I talked a great while about his business, of his accounts for his pay, and among other things he told me that this day a vote hath passed that the King’s grants of land to my Lord Monk and him should be made good; which pleases him very well. He also tells me that things don’t go right in the House with Mr. Coventry; I suppose he means in the business of selling of places; but I am sorry for it. Thence by coach home, where I found Pembleton, and so I up to dance with them till the evening, when there came Mr. Alsopp, the King’s brewer, and Lanyon of Plymouth to see me. Mr. Alsopp tells me of a horse of his that lately, after four days’ pain, voided at his fundament four stones, bigger than that I was cut of, very heavy, and in the middle of each of them either a piece of iron or wood. The King has two of them in his closet, and a third the College of Physicians to keep for rarity, and by the King’s command he causes the turd of the horse to be every day searched to find more. At night to see Sir W. Batten come home this day from Portsmouth. I met with some that say that the King of France is poisoned, but how true that is is not known. So home to supper and to bed pleasant.
. Lay long in bed talking and pleasing myself with my wife. So up and to my office a while and then home, where I found Pembleton, and by many circumstances I am led to conclude that there is something more than ordinary between my wife and him, which do so trouble me that I know not at this very minute that I now write this almost what either I write or am doing, nor how to carry myself to my wife in it, being unwilling to speak of it to her for making of any breach and other inconveniences, nor let it pass for fear of her continuing to offend me and the matter grow worse thereby. So that I am grieved at the very heart, but I am very unwise in being so. There dined with me Mr. Creed and Captain Grove, and before dinner I had much discourse in my chamber with Mr. Deane, the builder of Woolwich, about building of ships. But nothing could get the business out of my head, I fearing that this afternoon by my wife’s sending every [one] abroad and knowing that I must be at the office she has appointed him to come. This is my devilish jealousy, which I pray God may be false, but it makes a very hell in my mind, which the God of heaven remove, or I shall be very unhappy. So to the office, where we sat awhile. By and by my mind being in great trouble I went home to see how things were, and there I found as I doubted Mr. Pembleton with my wife, and nobody else in the house, which made me almost mad, and going up to my chamber after a turn or two I went out again and called somebody on pretence of business and left him in my little room at the door (it was the Dutchman, commander of the King’s pleasure boats, who having been beat by one of his men sadly, was come to the office today to complain) telling him I would come again to him to speak with him about his business. So in great trouble and doubt to the office, and Mr. Coventry nor Sir G. Carteret being there I made a quick end of our business and desired leave to be gone, pretending to go to the Temple, but it was home, and so up to my chamber, and as I think if they had any intention of hurt I did prevent doing anything at that time, but I continued in my chamber vexed and angry till he went away, pretending aloud, that I might hear, that he could not stay, and Mrs. Ashwell not being within they could not dance. And, Lord! to see how my jealousy wrought so far that I went softly up to see whether any of the beds were out of order or no, which I found not, but that did not content me, but I stayed all the evening walking, and though anon my wife came up to me and would have spoke of business to me, yet I construed it to be but impudence, and though my heart full yet I did say nothing, being in a great doubt what to do. So at night, suffered them to go all to bed, and late put myself to bed in great discontent, and so to sleep.
. So I waked by 3 o’clock, my mind being troubled, and so took occasion by making water to wake my wife, and after having lain till past 4 o’clock seemed going to rise, though I did it only to see what she would do, and so going out of the bed she took hold of me and would know what ailed me, and after many kind and some cross words I began to tax her discretion in yesterday’s business, but she quickly told me my own, knowing well enough that it was my old disease of jealousy, which I denied, but to no purpose. After an hour’s discourse, sometimes high and sometimes kind, I found very good reason to think that her freedom with him is very great and more than was convenient, but with no evil intent, and so after awhile I caressed her and parted seeming friends, but she crying in a great discontent. So I up and by water to the Temple, and thence with Commissioner Pett to St. James’s, where an hour with Mr. Coventry talking of Mr. Pett’s proceedings lately in the forest of Sherwood, and thence with Pett to my Lord Ashley, Chancellor of the Exchequer; where we met the auditors about settling the business of the accounts of persons to whom money is due before the King’s time in the Navy, and the clearing of their imprests for what little of their debts they have received. I find my Lord, as he is reported, a very ready, quick, and diligent person. Thence I to Westminster Hall, where Term and Parliament make the Hall full of people; no further news yet of the King of France, whether he be dead or not. Here I met with my cousin Roger Pepys, and walked a good while with him, and among other discourse as a secret he hath committed to nobody but myself, and he tells me that his sister Claxton now resolving to give over the keeping of his house at Impington, he thinks it fit to marry again, and would have me, by the help of my uncle Wight or others, to look him out a widow between thirty and forty years old, without children, and with a fortune, which he will answer in any degree with a jointure fit for her fortune. A woman sober, and no high-flyer, as he calls it. I demanded his estate. He tells me, which he says also he hath not done to any, that his estate is not full £800 per annum, but it is £780 per annum, of which £200 is by the death of his last wife, which he will allot for a jointure for a wife, but the rest, which lies in Cambridgeshire, he is resolved to leave entire for his eldest son. I undertook to do what I can in it, and so I shall. He tells me that the King hath sent to them to hasten to make an end by midsummer, because of his going into the country; so they have set upon four bills to dispatch: the first of which is, he says, too devilish a severe act against conventicles; so beyond all moderation, that he is afeard it will ruin all: telling me that it is matter of the greatest grief to him in the world, that he should be put upon this trust of being a Parliament-man, because he says nothing is done, that he can see, out of any truth and sincerity, but mere envy and design. Thence by water to Chelsey, all the way reading a little book I bought of Improvement of Trade, a pretty book and many things useful in it. So walked to Little Chelsey, where I found my Lord Sandwich with Mr. Becke, the master of the house, and Mr. Creed at dinner, and I sat down with them, and very merry. After dinner (Mr. Gibbons being come in also before dinner done) to music, they played a good Fancy, to which my Lord is fallen again, and says he cannot endure a merry tune, which is a strange turn of his humour, after he has for two or three years flung off the practice of Fancies1798 and played only fiddlers’ tunes. Then into the Great Garden up to the Banqueting House; and there by his glass we drew in the species1799 very pretty. Afterwards to ninepins, where I won a shilling, Creed and I playing against my Lord and Cooke. This day there was great thronging to Banstead Downs, upon a great horse-race and footrace. I am sorry I could not go thither. So home back as I came, to London Bridge, and so home, where I find my wife in a musty humour, and tells me before Ashwell that Pembleton had been there, and she would not have him come in unless I was there, which I was ashamed of; but however, I had rather it should be so than the other way. So to my office, to put things in order there, and by and by comes Pembleton, and word is brought me from my wife thereof that I might come home. So I sent word that I would have her go dance, and I would come presently. So being at a great loss whether I should appear to Pembleton or no, and what would most proclaim my jealousy to him, I at last resolved to go home, and took Tom Hater with me, and stayed a good while in my chamber, and there took occasion to tell him how I hear that Parliament is putting an act out against all sorts of conventicles,1800 and did give him good counsel, not only in his own behalf, but my own, that if he did hear or know anything that could be said to my prejudice, that he would tell me, for in this wicked age (specially Sir W. Batten being so open to my reproaches, and Sir J. Minnes, for the neglect of their duty, and so will think themselves obliged to scandalize me all they can to right themselves if there shall be any inquiry into the matters of the Navy, as I doubt there will) a man ought to be prepared to answer for himself in all things that can be inquired concerning him. After much discourse of this nature to him I sent him away, and then went up, and there we danced country dances, and single, my wife and I; and my wife paid him off for this month also, and so he is cleared. After dancing we took him down to supper, and were very merry, and I made myself so, and kind to him as much as I could, to prevent his discourse, though I perceive to my trouble that he knows all, and may do me the disgrace to publish it as much as he can. Which I take very ill, and if too much provoked shall witness it to her. After supper and he gone we to bed.
. Up this morning, and my wife, I know not for what cause, being against going to Chelsey today, it being a holy day (Ascension Day) and I at leisure, it being the first holy day almost that we have observed ever since we came to the office, we did give Ashwell leave to go by herself, and I out to several places about business. Among others to Dr. Williams, to reckon with him for physic that my wife has had for a year or two, coming to almost £4. Then to the Exchange, where I hear that the King had letters yesterday from France that the King there is in a [way] of living again, which I am glad to hear. At the coffeehouse in Exchange Alley I bought a little book, Counsell to Builders, by Sir Balth. Gerbier.1801 It is dedicated almost to all the men of any great condition in England, so that the Epistles are more than the book itself, and both it and them not worth a turd, that I am ashamed that I bought it. Home and there found Creed, who dined with us, and after dinner by water to the Royal Theatre; but that was so full they told us we could have no room. And so to the Duke’s House; and there saw Hamlet done, giving us fresh reason never to think enough of Betterton. Who should we see come upon the stage but Gosnell, my wife’s maid? but neither spoke, danced, nor sung; which I was sorry for. But she becomes the stage very well. Thence by water home, after we had walked to and fro, backwards and forwards, six or seven times in the Temple walks, disputing whether to go by land or water. By land home, and thence by water to Halfway House, and there eat some supper we carried with us, and so walked home again, it being late we were forced to land at the dock, my wife and they, but I in a humour not willing to daub my shoes went round by the Custom House. So home, and by and by to bed, Creed lying with me in the red chamber all night.
. This day is kept strictly as a holy-day, being the King’s Coronation. We lay long in bed, and it rained very hard, rain and hail, almost all the morning. By and by Creed and I abroad, and called at several churches; and it is a wonder to see, and by that to guess the ill temper of the City at this time, either to religion in general, or to the King, that in some churches there was hardly ten people in the whole church, and those poor people. So to a coffeehouse, and there in discourse hear the King of France is likely to be well again. So home to dinner, and out by water to the Royal Theatre, but they not acting today, then to the Duke’s house, and there saw The Slighted Maid,1802 wherein Gosnell acted Pyramena, a great part, and did it very well, and I believe will do it better and better, and prove a good actor. The play is not very excellent, but is well acted, and in general the actors, in all particulars, are better than at the other house. Thence to the Cocke alehouse, and there having drunk, sent them with Creed to see the German Princess,1803 at the Gatehouse, at Westminster, and I to my brother’s, and thence to my uncle Fenner’s to have seen my aunt James (who has been long in town and goes away tomorrow and I not seen her), but did find none of them within, which I was glad of, and so back to my brother’s to speak with him, and so home, and in my way did take two turns forwards and backwards through the Fleet Ally to see a couple of pretty [strumpets] that stood off the doors there, and God forgive me I could scarce stay myself from going into their houses with them, so apt is my nature to evil after once, as I have these two days, set upon pleasure again. So home and to my office to put down these two days’ journals, then home again and to supper, and then Creed and I to bed with good discourse, only my mind troubled about my spending my time so badly for these seven or eight days; but I must impute it to the disquiet that my mind has been in of late about my wife, and for my going these two days to plays, for which I have paid the due forfeit by money and abating the times of going to plays at Court, which I am now to remember that I have cleared all my times that I am to go to Court plays to the end of this month, and so June is the first time that I am to begin to reckon.
. Up betimes, and Creed and I by water to Fleet Street, and my brother not being ready, he and I walked to the New Exchange, and there drank our morning draught of whay, the first I have done this year; but I perceive the lawyers come all in as they go to the Hall, and I believe it is very good. So to my brother’s, and there I found my aunt James, a poor, religious, well-meaning, good soul, talking of nothing but God Almighty, and that with so much innocence that mightily pleased me. Here was a fellow that said grace so long like a prayer; I believe the fellow is a cunning fellow, and yet I by my brother’s desire did give him a crown, he being in great want, and, it seems, a parson among the fanatics, and a cousin of my poor aunt’s, whose prayers she told me did do me good among the many good souls that did by my father’s desires pray for me when I was cut of the stone, and which God did hear, which I also in complaisance did own; but, God forgive me, my mind was otherwise. I had a couple of lobsters and some wine for her, and so, she going out of town today, and being not willing to come home with me to dinner, I parted and home, where we sat at the office all the morning, and after dinner all the afternoon till night, there at my office getting up the time that I have of late lost by not following my business, but I hope now to settle my mind again very well to my business. So home, and after supper did wash my feet, and so to bed.
. Lay long in bed talking with my wife, and do plainly see that her distaste (which is beginning now in her again) against Ashwell arises from her jealousy of me and her, and my neglect of herself, which indeed is true, and I to blame; but for the time to come I will take care to remedy all. So up and to church, where I think I did see Pembleton, whatever the reason is I did not perceive him to look up towards my wife, nor she much towards him; however, I could hardly keep myself from being troubled that he was there, which is a madness not to be excused now that his coming to my house is past, and I hope all likelyhood of her having occasion to converse with him again. Home to dinner, and after dinner up and read part of the new play of The Five Houres’ Adventures, which though I have seen it twice; yet I never did admire or understand it enough, it being a play of the greatest plot that ever I expect to see, and of great vigour quite through the whole play, from beginning to the end. To church again after dinner (my wife finding herself ill … did not go), and there the Scot preaching I slept most of the sermon. This day Sir W. Batten’s son’s child is christened in the country, whither Sir J. Minnes, and Sir W, Batten, and Sir W. Penn are all gone. I wonder, and take it highly ill that I am not invited by the father, though I know his father and mother, with whom I am never likely to have much kindness, but rather I study the contrary, are the cause of it, and in that respect I am glad of it. Being come from church, I to make up my month’s accounts, and find myself clear worth £726, for which God be praised, but yet I might have been better by £20 almost had I forborne some layings out in dancing and other things upon my wife, and going to plays and other things merely to ease my mind as to the business of the dancing-master, which I bless God is now over and I falling to my quiet of mind and business again, which I have for a fortnight neglected too much. This month the greatest news is, the height and heat that the Parliament is in, in enquiring into the revenue, which displeases the Court, and their backwardness to give the King any money. Their enquiring into the selling of places do trouble a great many among the chief, my Lord Chancellor (against whom particularly it is carried), and Mr. Coventry; for which I am sorry. The King of France was given out to be poisoned and dead; but it proves to be the measles: and he is well, or likely to be soon well again. I find myself growing in the esteem and credit that I have in the office, and I hope falling to my business again will confirm me in it, and the saving of money which God grant! So to supper, prayers, and bed. My whole family lying longer this morning than was fit, and besides Will having neglected to brush my clothes, as he ought to do, till I was ready to go to church, and not then till I bade him, I was very angry, and seeing him make little matter of it, but seeming to make it a matter indifferent whether he did it or no, I did give him a box on the ear, and had it been another day should have done more. This is the second time I ever struck him.
June 1663
. Begun again to rise betimes by 4 o’clock, and made an end of The Adventures of Five Houres, and it is a most excellent play. So to my office, where a while and then about several businesses, in my way to my brother’s, where I dined (being invited) with Mr. Peter and Dean Honiwood,1804 where Tom did give us a very pretty dinner, and we very pleasant, but not very merry, the Dean being but a weak man, though very good. I was forced to rise, being in haste to St. James’s to attend the Duke, and left them to end their dinner; but the Duke having been a-hunting today, and so lately come home and gone to bed, we could not see him, and Mr. Coventry being out of the house too, we walked away to Whitehall and there took coach, and I with Sir J. Minnes to the Strand Maypole;1805 and there ’light out of his coach, and walked to the New Theatre, which, since the King’s players are gone to the Royal one, is this day begun to be employed by the fencers to play prizes at.1806 And here I came and saw the first prize I ever saw in my life: and it was between one Mathews, who did beat at all weapons, and one Westwicke, who was soundly cut several times both in the head and legs, that he was all over blood: and other deadly blows they did give and take in very good earnest, till Westwicke was in a most sad pickle. They fought at eight weapons, three bouts at each weapon. It was very well worth seeing, because I did till this day think that it has only been a cheat; but this being upon a private quarrel, they did it in good earnest; and I felt one of their swords, and found it to be very little, if at all blunter on the edge, than the common swords are. Strange to see what a deal of money is flung to them both upon the stage between every bout. But a woeful rude rabble there was, and such noises, made my head ache all this evening. So, well pleased for once with this sight, I walked home, doing several businesses by the way. In my way calling to see Commissioner Pett, who lies sick at his daughter, a pretty woman, in Gracious Street, but is likely to be abroad again in a day or two. At home I found my wife in bed all this day. … I went to see Sir Wm. Penn, who has a little pain of his gout again, but will do well. So home to supper and to bed. This day I hear at Court of the great plot which was lately discovered in Ireland, made among the Presbyters and others, designing to cry up the Covenant, and to secure Dublin Castle and other places; and they have debauched a good part of the army there, promising them ready money.1807 Some of the Parliament there, they say, are guilty, and some withdrawn upon it; several persons taken, and among others a son of Scott’s, that was executed here for the King’s murder. What reason the King hath, I know not; but it seems he is doubtful of Scotland: and this afternoon, when I was there, the Council was called extraordinary; and they were opening the letters this last post’s coming and going between Scotland and us and other places. Blessed be God, my head and hands are clear, and therefore my sleep safe. The King of France is well again.
. Up and by water to Whitehall and so to St. James’s, to Mr. Coventry; where I had an hour’s private talk with him. Most of it was discourse concerning his own condition, at present being under the censure of the House, being concerned with others in the Bill for selling of offices. He tells me, that though he thinks himself to suffer much in his fame hereby, yet he values nothing more of evil to hang over him for that it is against no statute, as is pretended, nor more than what his predecessors time out of mind have taken; and that so soon as he found himself to be in an errour, he did desire to have his fees set, which was done; and since that he hath not taken a token more. He undertakes to prove, that he did never take a token of any captain to get him employed in his life beforehand, or demanded anything: and for the other accusation, that the Cavaliers are not employed, he looked over the list of them now in the service, and of the twenty-seven that are employed, thirteen have been heretofore always under the King; two neutralls, and the other twelve men of great courage, and such as had either the King’s particular commands, or great recommendation to put them in, and none by himself. Besides that, he says it is not the King’s nor Duke’s opinion that the whole party of the late officers should be rendered desperate. And lastly, he confesses that the more of the Cavaliers are put in, the less of discipline hath followed in the fleet; and that, whenever there comes occasion, it must be the old ones that must do any good, there being only, he says, but Captain Allen good for anything of them all. He tells me, that he cannot guess whom all this should come from; but he suspects Sir G. Carteret, as I also do, at least that he is pleased with it. But he tells me that he will bring Sir G. Carteret to be the first adviser and instructor of him what to make his place of benefit to him; telling him that Smith did make his place worth £5,000 and he believed £7,000 to him the first year; besides something else greater than all this, which he forbore to tell me. It seems one Sir Thomas Tomkins1808 of the House, that makes many mad motions, did bring it into the House, saying that a letter was left at his lodgings, subscribed by one Benson (which is a feigned name, for there is no such man in the Navy), telling him how many places in the Navy have been sold. And by another letter, left in the same manner since, nobody appearing, he writes him that there is one Hughes and another Butler (both rogues, that have for their roguery been turned out of their places), that will swear that Mr. Coventry did sell their places and other things. I offered him my service, and will with all my heart serve him; but he tells me he do not think it convenient to meddle, or to any purpose, but is sensible of my love therein. So I bade him good morrow, he being out of order to speak anything of our office business, and so away to Westminster Hall, where I hear more of the plot from Ireland; which it seems hath been hatching, and known to the Lord Lieutenant a great while, and kept close till within three days that it should have taken effect. The term ended yesterday, and it seems the Courts rose sooner, for want of causes, than it is remembered to have done in the memory of man. Thence up and down about business in several places, as to speak with Mr. Phillips, but missed him, and so to Mr. Beacham, the goldsmith,1809 he being one of the jury tomorrow in Sir W. Batten’s case against Field. I have been telling him our case, and I believe he will do us good service there. So home, and seeing my wife had dined I went, being invited, and dined with Sir W. Batten, Sir J. Minnes, and others, at Sir W. Batten’s, Captain Allen giving them a Foy1810 dinner, he being to go down to lie Admiral in the Downs this summer. I cannot but think it a little strange that having been so civil to him as I have been he should not invite me to dinner, but I believe it was but a sudden motion, and so I heard not of it. After dinner to the office, where all the afternoon till late, and so to see Sir W. Penn, and so home to supper and to bed. Tonight I took occasion with the vintner’s man, who came by my direction to taste again my tierce of claret, to go down to the cellar with him to consult about the drawing of it; and there, to my great vexation, I find that the cellar door hath long been kept unlocked, and above half the wine drunk. I was deadly mad at it, and examined my people round, but nobody would confess it; but I did examine the boy, and afterwards Will, and told him of his sitting up after we were in bed with the maids, but as to that business he denies it, which I can [not] remedy, but I shall endeavour to know how it went. My wife did also this evening tell me a story of Ashwell stealing some new ribbon from her, a yard or two, which I am sorry to hear, and I fear my wife do take a displeasure against her, that they will hardly stay together, which I should be sorry for, because I know not where to pick such another out anywhere.
. Up betimes, and studying of my double horizontal diall against Dean Honiwood comes to me, who dotes mightily upon it, and I think I must give it him. So after talking with Sir W. Batten, who is this morning gone to Guildhall to his trial with Field, I to my office, and there read all the morning in my statute-book, consulting among others the statute against selling of offices, wherein Mr. Coventry is so much concerned; and though he tells me that the statute do not reach him, yet I much fear that it will. At noon, hearing that the trial is done, and Sir W. Batten come to the Sun behind the Exchange I went thither, where he tells me that he had much ado to carry it on his side, but that at last he did, but the jury, by the judge’s favour, did give us but £10 damages and the charges of the suit, which troubles me; but it is well it went not against us, which would have been much worse. So to the Exchange, and thence home to dinner, taking Deane of Woolwich along with me, and he dined alone with my wife being undressed, and he and I spent all the afternoon finely, learning of him the method of drawing the lines of a ship, to my great satisfaction, and which is well worth my spending some time in, as I shall do when my wife is gone into the country. In the evening to the office and did some business, then home, and, God forgive me, did from my wife’s unwillingness to tell me whither she had sent the boy, presently suspect that he was gone to Pembleton’s, and from that occasion grew so discontented that I could hardly speak or sleep all night.
. Up betimes, and my wife and Ashwell and I whiled away the morning up and down while they got themselves ready, and I did so watch to see my wife put on drawers, which poor soul she did, and yet I could not get off my suspicions, she having a mind to go into Fenchurch Street before she went out for good and all with me, which I must needs construe to be to meet Pembleton, when she afterwards told me it was to buy a fan that she had not a mind that I should know of, and I believe it is so. Specially I did by a wile get out of my boy that he did not yesterday go to Pembleton’s or thereabouts, but only was sent all that time for some starch, and I did see him bringing home some, and yet all this cannot make my mind quiet. At last by coach I carried her to Westminster Hall, and they two to Mrs. Bowyer to go from thence to my wife’s father’s and Ashwell to hers, and by and by seeing my wife’s father in the Hall, and being loth that my wife should put me to another trouble and charge by missing him today, I did employ a porter to go from a person unknown to tell him his daughter was come to his lodgings, and I at a distance did observe him, but, Lord! what a company of questions he did ask him, what kind of man I was, and God knows what. So he went home, and after I had stayed in the Hall a good while, where I heard that this day the Archbishop of Canterbury, Juxon,1811 a man well spoken of by all for a good man, is dead; and the Bishop of London1812 is to have his seat. Home by water, where by and by comes Dean Honiwood, and I showed him my double horizontal diall, and promise to give him one, and that shall be it. So, without eating or drinking, he went away to Mr. Turner’s, where Sir J. Minnes do treat my Lord Chancellor and a great deal of guests today with a great dinner, which I thank God I do not pay for; and besides, I doubt it is too late for any man to expect any great service from my Lord Chancellor, for which I am sorry, and pray God a worse do not come in his room. So I to dinner alone, and so to my chamber, and then to the office alone, my head aching and my mind in trouble for my wife, being jealous of her spending the day, though God knows I have no great reason. Yet my mind is troubled. By and by comes Will Howe to see us, and walked with me an hour in the garden, talking of my Lord’s falling to business again, which I am glad of, and his coming to lie at his lodgings at Whitehall again. The match between Sir J. Cutts1813 and my Lady Jemimah,1814 he says, is likely to go on; for which I am glad. In the Hall today Dr. Pierce tells me that the Queen begins to be brisk, and play like other ladies, and is quite another woman from what she was, of which I am glad. It may be, it may make the King like her the better, and forsake his two mistresses, my Lady Castlemaine and Stewart. He gone we sat at the office till night, and then home, where my wife is come, and has been with her father all the afternoon, and so home, and she and I to walk in the garden, giving ear to her discourse of her father’s affairs, and I found all well, so after putting things in order at my office, home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to read a little, and by and by the carver coming, I directed him how to make me a neat head for my viol that is making. About 10 o’clock my wife and I, not without some discontent, abroad by coach, and I set her at her father’s; but their condition is such that she will not let me see where they live, but goes by herself when I am out of sight. Thence to my brother’s, taking care for a passage for my wife the next week in a coach to my father’s, and thence to Paul’s Churchyard, where I found several books ready bound for me; among others, the new Concordance of the Bible,1815 which pleases me much, and is a book I hope to make good use of. Thence, taking the little History of England1816 with me, I went by water to Deptford, where Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten attending the Pay; I dined with them, and there Dr. Britton,1817 parson of the town, a fine man and good company, dined with us, and good discourse. After dinner I left them and walked to Redriffe, and thence to Whitehall, and at my Lord’s lodgings found my wife, and thence carried her to see my Lady Jemimah, but she was not within. So to Mr. Turner’s, and there saw Mr. Edward Pepys’s lady, who my wife concurs with me to be very pretty, as most women we ever saw.1818 So home, and after a walk in the garden a little troubled to see my wife take no more pleasure with Ashwell, but neglect her and leave her at home. Home to supper and to bed.
. Lay in bed till 7 o’clock, yet rose with an opinion that it was not 5, and so continued though I heard the clock strike, till noon, and would not believe that it was so late as it truly was. I was hardly ever so mistaken in my life before. Up and to Sir G. Carteret at his house, and spoke to him about business, but he being in a bad humour I had no mind to stay with him, but walked, drinking my morning draught of whay, by the way, to York House, where the Russia Embassador do lie; and there I saw his people go up and down lousing themselves: they are all in a great hurry, being to be gone the beginning of next week. But that that pleased me best, was the remains of the noble soul of the late Duke of Buckingham appearing in his house, in every place, in the doorcases and the windows. By and by comes Sir John Hebden,1819 the Russia Resident, to me, and he and I in his coach to Whitehall, to Secretary Morrice’s, to see the orders about the Russia hemp that is to be fetched from Archangel for our King, and that being done, to coach again, and he brought me into the City and so I home; and after dinner abroad by water, and met by appointment Mr. Deane in the Temple Church, and he and I over to Mr. Blackbury’s yard, and thence to other places, and after that to a drinking house, in all which places I did so practise and improve my measuring of timber, that I can now do it with great ease and perfection, which do please me mightily. This fellow Deane is a conceited fellow, and one that means the King a great deal of service, more of disservice to other people that go away with the profits which he cannot make; but, however, I learn much of him, and he is, I perceive, of great use to the King in his place, and so I shall give him all the encouragement I can. Home by water, and having wrote a letter for my wife to my Lady Sandwich to copy out to send this night’s post, I to the office, and wrote there myself several things, and so home to supper and bed. My mind being troubled to think into what a temper of neglect I have myself flung my wife into by my letting her learn to dance, that it will require time to cure her of, and I fear her going into the country will but make her worse; but only I do hope in the meantime to spend my time well in my office, with more leisure than while she is here. Hebden, today in the coach, did tell me how he is vexed to see things at Court ordered as they are by nobody that attends to business, but every man himself or his pleasures. He cries up my Lord Ashley to be almost the only man that he sees to look after business; and with that ease and mastery, that he wonders at him. He cries out against the King’s dealing so much with goldsmiths, and suffering himself to have his purse kept and commanded by them. He tells me also with what exact care and order the States of Holland’s1820 stores are kept in their Yards, and everything managed there by their builders with such husbandry as is not imaginable; which I will endeavour to understand further, if I can by any means learn.
. Whit Sunday. Lay long talking with my wife, sometimes angry and ended pleased and hope to bring our matters to a better posture in a little time, which God send. So up and to church, where Mr. Mills preached, but, I know not how, I slept most of the sermon. Thence home, and dined with my wife and Ashwell and after dinner discoursed very pleasantly, and so I to church again in the afternoon, and, the Scot preaching, again slept all the afternoon, and so home, and by and by to Sir W. Batten’s, to talk about business, where my Lady Batten inveighed mightily against the German Princess,1821 and I as high in the defence of her wit and spirit, and glad that she is cleared at the sessions. Thence to Sir W. Penn, who I found ill again of the gout, he tells me that now Mr. Castle and Mrs. Martha Batten1822 do own themselves to be married, and have been this fortnight. Much good may it do him, for I do not envy him his wife. So home, and there my wife and I had an angry word or two upon discourse of our boy, compared with Sir W. Penn’s boy that he has now, whom I say is much prettier than ours and she the contrary. It troubles me to see that every small thing is enough nowadays to bring a difference between us. So to my office and there did a little business, and then home to supper and to bed. Mrs. Turner, who is often at Court, do tell me today that for certain the Queen hath much changed her humour, and is become very pleasant and sociable as any; and they say is with child, or believed to be so.
. Up and to my office a while, and thence by coach with Sir J. Minnes to St. James’s to the Duke, where Mr. Coventry and us two did discourse with the Duke a little about our office business, which saved our coming in the afternoon, and so to rights home again and to dinner. After dinner my wife and I had a little jangling, in which she did give me the lie, which vexed me, so that finding my talking did but make her worse, and that her spirit is lately come to be other than it used to be, and now depends upon her having Ashwell by her, before whom she thinks I shall not say nor do anything of force to her, which vexes me and makes me wish that I had better considered all that I have of late done concerning my bringing my wife to this condition of heat, I went up vexed to my chamber and there fell examining my new concordance, that I have bought, with Newman’s,1823 the best that ever was out before, and I find mine altogether as copious as that and something larger, though the order in some respects not so good, that a man may think a place is missing, when it is only put in another place. Up by and by my wife comes and good friends again, and to walk in the garden and so anon to supper and to bed. My cousin John Angier the son, of Cambridge coming to me late to see me, and I find his business is that he would be sent to sea, but I dissuaded him from it, for I will not have to do with it without his friends’ consent.
. Up and after ordering some things towards my wife’s going into the country, to the office, where I spent the morning upon my measuring rules very pleasantly till noon, and then comes Creed and he and I talked about mathematics, and he tells me of a way found out by Mr. Jonas Moore1824 which he calls duodecimal arithmetic, which is properly applied to measuring, where all is ordered by inches, which are 12 in a foot, which I have a mind to learn. So he with me home to dinner and after dinner walk in the garden, and then we met at the office, where Coventry, Sir J. Minnes, and I, and so in the evening, business done, I went home and spent my time till night with my wife. Presently after my coming home comes Pembleton, whether by appointment or no I know not, or whether by a former promise that he would come once before my wife’s going into the country, but I took no notice of, let them go up and Ashwell with them to dance, which they did, and I stayed below in my chamber, but, Lord! how I listened and laid my ear to the door, and how I was troubled when I heard them stand still and not dance. Anon they made an end and had done, and so I suffered him to go away, and spoke not to him, though troubled in my mind, but showed no discontent to my wife, believing that this is the last time I shall be troubled with him. So my wife and I to walk in the garden, home and to supper and to bed.
. Up and all the morning helping my wife to put up her things towards her going into the country and drawing the wine out of my vessel to send. This morning came my cousin Thomas Pepys to desire me to furnish him with some money, which I could not do till his father has wrote to Piggott his consent to the sale of his lands, so by and by we parted and I to the Exchange a while and so home and to dinner, and thence to the Royal Theatre by water, and landing, met with Captain Ferrers his friend, the little man that used to be with him, and he with us, and sat by us while we saw Love in a Maze. The play is pretty good, but the life of the play is Lacy’s part,1825 the clown, which is most admirable; but for the rest, which are counted such old and excellent actors, in my life I never heard both men and women so ill pronounce their parts, even to my making myself sick therewith. Thence, Creed happening to be with us, we four to the Half-Moon Tavern, I buying some sugar and carrying it with me, which we drank with wine and thence to the whay-house, and drank a great deal of whay, and so by water home, and thence to see Sir W. Penn, who is not in much pain, but his legs swell and so immoveable that he cannot stir them, but as they are lifted by other people and I doubt will have another fit of his late pain. Played a little at cards with him and his daughter, who is grown every day a finer and finer lady, and so home to supper and to bed. When my wife and I came first home we took Ashwell and all the rest below in the cellar with the vintner drawing out my wine, which I blamed Ashwell much for and told her my mind that I would not endure it, nor was it fit for her to make herself equal with the ordinary servants of the house.
. Up and spent most of the morning upon my measuring Ruler and with great pleasure I have found out some things myself of great dispatch, more than my book teaches me, which pleases me mightily. Sent my wife’s things and the wine today by the carrier to my father’s, but stayed my boy from a letter of my father’s, wherein he desires that he may not come to trouble his family as he did the last year. Dined at home and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and at night home and spent the evening with my wife, and she and I did jangle mightily about her cushions that she wrought with worsteds the last year, which are too little for any use, but were good friends by and by again. But one thing I must confess I do observe, which I did not before, which is, that I cannot blame my wife to be now in a worse humour than she used to be, for I am taken up in my talk with Ashwell, who is a very witty girl, that I am not so fond of her as I used and ought to be, which now I do perceive I will remedy, but I would to the Lord I had never taken any, though I cannot have a better than her. To supper and to bed. The consideration that this is the longest day in the year is very unpleasant to me.1826 This afternoon my wife had a visit from my Lady Jeminah and Mr. Ferrers.
. Up and my office, there conning my measuring Ruler, which I shall grow a master of in a very little time. At noon to the Exchange and so home to dinner, and abroad with my wife by water to the Royal Theatre; and there saw The Committee,1827 a merry but indifferent play, only Lacey’s part, an Irish footman, is beyond imagination. Here I saw my Lord Falconbridge,1828 and his Lady, my Lady Mary Cromwell, who looks as well as I have known her, and well clad; but when the House began to fill she put on her vizard,1829 and so kept it on all the play; which of late is become a great fashion among the ladies, which hides their whole face. So to the Exchange, to buy things with my wife; among others, a vizard for herself. And so by water home and to my office to do a little business, and so to see Sir W. Penn, but being going to bed and not well I could not see him. So home and to supper and bed, being mightily troubled all night and next morning with the palate of my mouth being down from some cold I took today sitting sweating in the playhouse, and the wind blowing through the windows upon my head.
. Up and betimes to Thames Street among the tar men, to look the price of tar and so by water to Whitehall thinking to speak with Sir G. Carteret, but he lying in the city all night, and meeting with Mr. Cutler the merchant, I with him in his coach into the city to Sir G. Carteret, but missing him there, he and I walked to find him at Sir Tho. Allen’s in Bread Street, where not finding him he and I walked towards our office, he discoursing well of the business of the Navy, and particularly of the victualling, in which he was once I perceive concerned, and he and I parted and I to the office and there had a difference with Sir W. Batten about Mr. Bowyer’s tar, which I am resolved to cross, though he sent me last night, as a bribe, a barrel of sturgeon, which, it may be, I shall send back, for I will not have the King abused so abominably in the price of what we buy, by Sir W. Batten’s corruption and underhand dealing. So from the office, Mr. Wayth with me, to the Parliament House, and there I spoke and told Sir G. Carteret all, with which he is well pleased, and do recall his willingness yesterday, it seems, to Sir W. Batten, that we should buy a great quantity of tar, being abused by him. Thence with Mr. Wayth after drinking a cup of ale at the Swan, talking of the corruption of the Navy, by water. I landed him at Whitefriars, and I to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, where I found my wife’s brother, and thence after dinner by water to the Royal Theatre, where I resolved to bid farewell, as shall appear by my oaths tomorrow against all plays either at public houses or Court till Christmas be over. Here we saw The Faithful Shepherdess,1830 a most simple thing, and yet much thronged after, and often shown, but it is only for the scenes’ sake, which is very fine indeed and worth seeing; but I am quite out of opinion with any of their actings, but Lacy’s, compared with the other house. Thence to see Mrs. Hunt, which we did and were much made of; and in our way saw my Lady Castlemaine, who, I fear, is not so handsome as I have taken her for, and now she begins to decay something. This is my wife’s opinion also, for which I am sorry. Thence by coach, with a mad coachman, that drove like mad, and down byways, through Bucklersbury home, everybody through the street cursing him, being ready to run over them. So home, and after writing letters by the post, home to supper and bed. Yesterday, upon conference with the King in the Banqueting House, the Parliament did agree with much ado, it being carried but by forty-two voices, that they would supply him with a sum of money; but what and how is not yet known, but expected to be done with great disputes the next week. But if done at all, it is well.
. Lay long in bed. So up and to church. Then to dinner, and Tom dined with me, who I think grows a very thriving man, as he himself tells me. He tells me that his man John has got a wife, and for that he intends to part with him, which I am sorry for, and then that Mr. Armiger comes to be a constant lodger at his house, and he says has money in his purse and will be a good paymaster, but I do much doubt it. He being gone, I up and sending my people to church, my wife and I did even our reckonings, and had a great deal of serious talk, wherein I took occasion to give her hints of the necessity of our saving all we can. I do see great cause every day to curse the time that ever I did give way to the taking of a woman for her, though I could never have had a better, and also the letting of her learn to dance, by both which her mind is so devilishly taken off her business and minding her occasions, and besides has got such an opinion in her of my being jealous, that it is never to be removed, I fear, nor hardly my trouble that attends it; but I must have patience. I did give her 40s. to carry into the country tomorrow with her, whereof 15s. is to go for the coach-hire for her and Ashwell, there being 20s. paid here already in earnest. In the evening our discourse turned to great content and love, and I hope that after a little forgetting our late differences, and being a while absent one from another, we shall come to agree as well as ever. So to Sir W. Penn’s to visit him, and finding him alone, sent for my wife, who is in her riding-suit, to see him, which she hath not done these many months I think. By and by in comes Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, and so we sat talking. Among other things, Sir J. Minnes brought many fine expressions of Chaucer, which he doats on mightily, and without doubt he is a very fine poet.1831 Sir W. Penn continues lame of the gout, that he cannot rise from his chair. So after staying an hour with him, we went home and to supper, and so to prayers and bed.
. Up betimes, and anon my wife rose and did give me her keys, and put other things in order and herself against going this morning into the country. I was forced to go to Thames Street and strike up a bargain for some tar, to prevent being abused therein by Hill, who was with me this morning, and is mightily surprised that I should tell him what I can have the same tar with his for. Thence home, but finding my wife gone, I took coach and after her to her inn, where I am troubled to see her forced to sit in the back of the coach, though pleased to see her company none but women and one parson; she I find is troubled at all, and I seemed to make a promise to get a horse and ride after them; and so, kissing her often, and Ashwell once, I bid them adieu. So home by coach, and thence by water to Deptford to the Trinity House, where I came a little late; but I found them reading their charter, which they did like fools, only reading here and there a bit, whereas they ought to do it all, every word, and then proceeded to the election of a maister, which was Sir W. Batten, without any control, who made a heavy, short speech to them, moving them to give thanks to the late Maister for his pains, which he said was very great, and giving them thanks for their choice of him, wherein he would serve them to the best of his power. Then to the choice of their assistants and wardens, and so rose. I might have received 2s. 6d. as a younger Brother, but I directed one of the servants of the House to receive it and keep it. Thence to church, where Dr. Britton preached a sermon full of words against the Nonconformists, but no great matter in it, nor proper for the day at all. His text was, “With one mind and one mouth give glory to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” That done, by water, I in the barge with the Maister, to the Trinity House at London;1832 where, among others, I found my Lords Sandwich and Craven, and my cousin Roger Pepys, and Sir Wm. Wheeler. Anon we sat down to dinner, which was very great, as they always have. Great variety of talk. Mr. Prin, among many, had a pretty tale of one that brought in a bill in parliament for the empowering him to dispose his land to such children as he should have that should bear the name of his wife. It was in Queen Elizabeth’s time. One replied that there are many species of creatures where the male gives the denomination to both sexes, as swan and woodcock, but not above one where the female do, and that is a goose. Both at and after dinner we had great discourses of the nature and power of spirits, and whether they can animate dead bodies; in all which, as of the general appearance of spirits, my Lord Sandwich is very scepticall. He says the greatest warrants that ever he had to believe any, is the present appearing of the Devil1833 in Wiltshire, much of late talked of, who beats a drum up and down. There are books of it, and, they say, very true; but my Lord observes, that though he do answer to any tune that you will play to him upon another drum, yet one tune he tried to play and could not; which makes him suspect the whole; and I think it is a good argument. Sometimes they talked of handsome women, and Sir J. Minnes saying that there was no beauty like what he sees in the country-markets, and specially at Bury, in which I will agree with him that there is a prettiest women I ever saw. My Lord replied thus: “Sir John, what do you think of your neighbour’s wife?” looking upon me. “Do you not think that he hath a great beauty to his wife? Upon my word he hath.” Which I was not a little proud of. Thence by barge with my Lord to Blackfriars, where we landed and I thence walked home, where vexed to find my boy (whom I boxed at his coming for it) and Will abroad, though he was but upon Tower Hill a very little while. My head aching with the healths I was forced to drink today I sent for the barber, and he having done, I up to my wife’s closet, and there played on my violin a good while, and without supper anon to bed, sad for want of my wife, whom I love with all my heart, though of late she has given me some troubled thoughts.
. Up, but not so early as I intend now, and to my office, where doing business all the morning. At noon by desire I dined with Sir W. Batten, who tells me that the House have voted the supply, intended for the King, shall be by subsidy. After dinner with Sir J. Minnes to see some pictures at Brewer’s, said to be of good hands, but I do not like them. So I to the office and thence to Stacy’s, his Tar merchant, whose servant with whom I agreed yesterday for some tar do by combination with Bowyer and Hill fall from our agreement, which vexes us all at the office, even Sir W. Batten, who was so earnest for it. So to the office, where we sat all the afternoon till night, and then to Sir W. Penn, who continues ill, and so to bed about 10 o’clock.
. Up before 4 o’clock, which is the hour I intend now to rise at, and to my office a while, and with great pleasure I fell to my business again. Anon went with money to my tar merchant to pay for the tar, which he refuses to sell me; but now the master is come home, and so he speaks very civilly, and I believe we shall have it with peace. I brought back my money to my office, and thence to Whitehall, and in the garden spoke to my Lord Sandwich, who is in his gold-buttoned suit, as the mode is, and looks nobly. Captain Ferrers, I see, is come home from France. I only spoke one word to him, my Lord being there. He tells me the young gentlemen are well there; so my Lord went to my Lord Albemarle’s to dinner, and I by water home and dined alone, and at the office (after half an hour’s violin practice after dinner) till late at night, and so home and to bed. This day I sent my cousin Edward Pepys his Lady, at my cousin Turner’s, a piece of venison given me yesterday, and Madam Turner I sent for a dozen bottles of hers, to fill with wine for her. This day I met with Pierce the surgeon, who tells me that the King has made peace between Mr. Edward Montagu and his father Lord Montagu, and that all is well again; at which; for the family’s sake, I am very glad, but do not think it will hold long.
. Up by four o’clock and to my office, where all the morning writing out in my Navy collections the ordinary estimate of the Navy, and did it neatly. Then dined at home alone, my mind pleased with business, but sad for the absence of my wife. After dinner half an hour at my violin, and then all the afternoon sitting at the office late, and so home and to bed. This morning Mr. Cutler came and sat in my closet half an hour with me, his discourse very excellent, being a wise man, and I do perceive by him as well as many others that my diligence is taken notice of in the world, for which I bless God and hope to continue doing so. Before I went into my house this night I called at Sir W. Batten’s, where finding some great ladies at table at supper with him and his lady, I retreated and went home, though they called to me again and again, and afterwards sent for me. So I went, and who should it be but Sir Fr. Clerke1834 and his lady and another proper lady at supper there, and great cheer, where I stayed till 11 o’clock at night, and so home and to bed.
. Lay till 6 o’clock, and then up and to my office, where all the morning, and at noon to the Exchange, and coming home met Mr. Creed, and took him back, and he dined with me, and by and by came Mr. Moore, whom I supplied with £30, and then abroad with them by water to Lambeth, expecting to have seen the Archbishop lie in state; but it seems he is not laid out yet. And so over to Whitehall, and at the Privy Seal Office examined the books, and found the grant of increase of salary to the principall officers in the year 1639, £300 among the Controller, Surveyor, and Clerk of the Ships. Thence to Wilkinson’s after a good walk in the Park, where we met on horseback Captain Ferrers; who tells us that the King of France is well again, and that he saw him train his Guards, all brave men, at Paris; and that when he goes to his mistress, Madame la Valiere, a pretty little woman, now with child by him, he goes with his guards with him publicly, and his trumpets and kettledrums with him, who stay before the house while he is with her; and yet he says that, for all this, the Queen do not know of it, for that nobody dares to tell her; but that I dare not believe. Thence I to Wilkinson’s, where we had bespoke a dish of peas, where we eat them very merrily, and there being with us the little gentleman, a friend of Captain Ferrers, that was with my wife and I at a play a little while ago, we went thence to the Rhenish wine-house, where we called for a red Rhenish wine called Bleahard, a pretty wine, and not mixed, as they say. Here Mr. Moore showed us the French manner, when a health is drunk, to bow to him that drunk to you, and then apply yourself to him, whose lady’s health is drunk, and then to the person that you drink to, which I never knew before; but it seems it is now the fashion. Thence by water home and to bed, having played out of my chamber window on my pipe before I went to bed, and making Will read a part of a Latin chapter, in which I perceive in a little while he will be pretty ready, if he spends but a little pains in it.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, and dined at home, Mr. Deane, of Woolwich, with me, and he and I all the afternoon down by water, and in a timber yard, measuring of timber, which I now understand thoroughly, and shall be able in a little time to do the King great service. Home in the evening, and after Will’s reading a little in the Latin Testament, to bed.
. Up betimes, and fell to reading my Latin grammar, which I perceive I have great need of, having lately found it by my calling Will to the reading of a chapter in Latin, and I am resolved to go through it. After being trimmed, I by water to Whitehall, and so over the Park, it raining hard, to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, where I spent two hours with him about business of the Navy, and how by his absence things are like to go with us, and with good content from my being with him he carried me by coach and set me down at Whitehall, and thence to right home by water. He showed me a list, which he hath prepared for the Parliament’s view, if the business of his selling of offices should be brought to further hearing, wherein he reckons up, as I remember, 236 offices of ships which have been disposed of without his taking one farthing. This, of his own accord, he opened his cabinet on purpose to show me, meaning, I suppose, that I should discourse abroad of it, and vindicate him therein, which I shall with all my power do. At home, being wet, shifted my band and things, and then to dinner, and after dinner went up and tried a little upon my triangle, which I understand fully, and with a little use I believe could bring myself to do something. So to church, and slept all the sermon, the Scot, to whose voice I am not to be reconciled, preaching. Thence with Sir J. Minnes (who poor man had forgot that he carried me the other day to the painter’s to see some pictures which he has since bought and are brought home) to his lodgings to see some base things he calls them of great masters of painting. So I said nothing that he had shown me them already, but commended them, and I think they are indeed good enough. Thence to see Sir W. Penn, who continues ill of the gout still. Here we stayed a good while, and then I to my office, and read my vows seriously and with content, and so home to supper, to prayers, and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, reading over all our letters of the office that we have wrote since I came into the Navy, whereby to bring the whole series of matters into my memory, and to enter in my manuscript some of them that are needful and of great influence. By and by with Sir W. Batten by coach to Westminster, where all along I find the shops evening with the sides of the houses, even in the broadest streets; which will make the City very much better than it was. I walked in the Hall from one man to another. Hear that the House is still divided about the manner of levying the subsidies which they intend to give the King, both as to the manner, the time, and the number. It seems the House do consent to send to the King to desire that he would be graciously pleased to let them know who it was that did inform him of what words Sir Richard Temple1835 should say, which were to this purpose: “That if the King would side with him, or be guided by him and his party, that he should not lack money:” but without knowing who told it, they do not think fit to call him to any account for it. Thence with Creed and bought a lobster, and then to an alehouse, where the maid of the house is a confident merry lass, and if modest is very pleasant to the customers that come thither. Here we eat it, and thence to walk in the Park a good while. The Duke being gone a-hunting, and by and by came in and shifted himself; he having in his hunting, rather than go about, ’light and led his horse through a river up to his breast, and came so home: and when we were come, which was by and by, we went on to him, and being ready he retired with us, and we had a long discourse with him. But Mr. Creed’s accounts stick still through the perverse ignorance of Sir G. Carteret, which I cannot safely control as I would. Thence to the Park again, and there walked up and down an hour or two till night with Creed, talking, who is so knowing, and a man of that reason, that I cannot but love his company, though I do not love the man, because he is too wise to be made a friend of, and acts all by interest and policy, but is a man fit to learn of. So to Whitehall, and by water to the Temple, and calling at my brother’s and several places, but to no purpose, I came home, and meeting Strutt, the purser, he tells me for a secret that he was told by Field that he had a judgment against me in the Exchequer for £400. So I went to Sir W. Batten, and taking Mr. Batten, his son the counsellor, with me, by coach, I went to Clerke, our Solicitor, who tells me there can be no such thing, and after conferring with them two together, who are resolved to look well after the business, I returned home and to my office, setting down this day’s passages, and having a letter that all is well in the country I went home to supper, and then a Latin chapter of Will and to bed.
. Up by four o’clock, and so to my office; but before I went out, calling, as I have of late done, for my boy’s copybook, I found that he had not done his task; so I beat him, and then went up to fetch my rope’s end, but before I got down the boy was gone. I searched the cellar with a candle, and from top to bottom could not find him high nor low. So to the office; and after an hour or two, by water to the Temple, to my cousin Roger; who, I perceive, is a deadly high man in the Parliament business, and against the Court, showing me how they have computed that the King hath spent, at least hath received, about four millions of money since he came in: and in Sir J. Winter’s case, in which I spoke to him, he is so high that he says he deserves to be hanged, and all the high words he could give, which I was sorry to see, though I am confident he means well. Thence by water home, and to the ’Change; and by and by comes the King and the Queen by in great state, and the streets full of people. I stood in Mr. ⸻’s balcone. They dine all at my Lord Mayor’s; but what he do for victuals, or room for them, I know not. So home to dinner alone, and there I found that my boy had got out of doors, and came in for his hat and band, and so is gone away to his brother; but I do resolve even to let him go away for good and all. So I by and by to the office, and there had a great fray with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, who, like an old dotard, is led by the nose by him. It was in Captain Cocke’s business of hemp, wherein the King is absolutely abused; but I was for peace sake contented to be quiet and to sign to his bill, but in my manner so as to justify myself, and so all was well; but to see what a knave Sir W. Batten is makes my heart ache. So late at my office, and then home to supper and to bed, my man Will not being well.
. Up before 4 o’clock, and so to my lute an hour or more, and then by water, drinking my morning draught alone at an alehouse in Thames Street, to the Temple, and thence after a little discourse with my cousin Roger about some business, away by water to St. James’s, and there an hour’s private discourse with Mr. Coventry, where he told me one thing to my great joy, that in the business of Captain Cocke’s hemp, disputed before him the other day, Mr. Coventry absent, the Duke did himself tell him since, that Mr. Pepys and he did stand up and carry it against the rest that were there, Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Batten, which do please me much to see that the Duke do take notice of me. We did talk highly of Sir W. Batten’s corruption, which Mr. Coventry did very kindly say that it might be only his heaviness and unaptness for business, that he do things without advice and rashly, and to gratify people that do eat and drink and play with him, and that now and then he observes that he signs bills only in anger and fury to be rid of men. Speaking of Sir G. Carteret, of whom I perceive he speaks but slightly, and diminishing of him in his services for the King in Jersey; that he was well rewarded, and had good lands and rents, and other profits from the King, all the time he was there; and that it was always his humour to have things done his way. He brought an example how he would not let the Castle there be victualled for more than a month, that so he might keep it at his beck, though the people of the town did offer to supply it more often themselves, which, when one did propose to the King, Sir George Carteret being by, says Sir George, “Let me know who they are that would do it, I would with all my heart pay them.” “Ah, by God,” says the Commander that spoke of it, “that is it that they are afeard of, that you would hug them,” meaning that he would not endure them. Another thing he told me, how the Duke of York did give Sir G. Carteret and the Island his profits as Admiral, and other things, toward the building of a pier there. But it was never laid out, nor like to be. So it falling out that a lady being brought to bed, the Duke was to be desired to be one of the godfathers; and it being objected that that would not be proper, there being no peer of the land to be joined with him, the lady replied, “Why, let him choose; and if he will not be a godfather without a peer, then let him even stay till he hath made a pier of his own.”1836 He tells me, too, that he hath lately been observed to tack about at Court, and to endeavour to strike in with the persons that are against the Chancellor; but this he says of him, that he do not say nor do anything to the prejudice of the Chancellor. But he told me that the Chancellor was rising again, and that of late Sir G. Carteret’s business and employment hath not been so full as it used to be while the Chancellor stood up. From that we discoursed of the evil of putting out men of experience in business as the Chancellor, and from that to speak of the condition of the King’s party at present, who, as the Papists, though otherwise fine persons, yet being by law kept for these fourscore years out of employment, they are now wholly uncapable of business; and so the Cavaliers for twenty years, who, says he, for the most part have either given themselves over to look after country and family business, and those the best of them, and the rest to debauchery, etc.; and that was it that hath made him high against the late Bill brought into the House for the making all men incapable of employment that had served against the King. Why, says he, in the sea-service, it is impossible to do anything without them, there being not more than three men of the whole King’s side that are fit to command almost; and these were Captain Allen, Smith, and Beech;1837 and it may be Holmes, and Utber, and Batts might do something.1838 I desired him to tell me if he thought that I did speak anything that I do against Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes out of ill will or design. He told me quite the contrary, and that there was reason enough. After a good deal of good and fine discourse, I took leave, and so to my Lord Sandwich’s house, where I met my Lord, and there did discourse of our office businesses, and how the Duke do show me kindness, though I have endeavoured to displease more or less of my fellow officers, all but Mr. Coventry and Pett; but it matters not. Yes, says my Lord, Sir J. Minnes, who is great with the Chancellor; I told him the Chancellor I have thought was declining, and however that the esteem he has among them is nothing but for a jester or a ballad maker; at which my Lord laughs, and asks me whether I believe he ever could do that well. Thence with Mr. Creed up and down to an ordinary, and, the King’s Head being full, went to the other over against it, a pretty man that keeps it, and good and much meat, better than the other, but the company and room so small that he must break, and there wants the pleasure that the other house has in its company. Here however dined an old courtier that is now so, who did bring many examples and arguments to prove that seldom any man that brings anything to Court gets anything, but rather the contrary; for knowing that they have wherewith to live, will not enslave themselves to the attendance, and flattery, and fawning condition of a courtier, whereas another that brings nothing, and will be contented to cog, and lie, and flatter every man and woman that has any interest with the persons that are great in favour, and can cheat the King, as nothing is to be got without offending God and the King, there he for the most part, and he alone, saves anything. Thence to St. James Park, and there walked two or three hours talking of the difference between Sir G. Carteret and Mr. Creed about his accounts, and how to obviate him, but I find Creed a deadly cunning fellow and one that never do anything openly, but has intrigues in all he do or says. Thence by water home to see all well, and thence down to Greenwich, and there walked into a pretty common garden and there played with him at nine pins for some drink, and to make the fellows drink that set up the pins, and so home again being very cold, and taking a very great cold, being today the first time in my tabby doublet this year. Home, and after a small supper Creed and I to bed. This day I observed the house, which I took to be the new tennis-court, newly built next my Lord’s lodgings, to be fallen down by the badness of the foundation or slight working, which my cousin Roger and his discontented party cry out upon, as an example how the King’s work is done, which I am sorry to see him and others so apt to think ill of things. It hath beaten down a good deal of my Lord’s lodgings, and had like to have killed Mrs. Sarah, she having but newly gone out of it.
. Up both of us pretty early and to my chamber, where he and I did draw up a letter to Sir G. Carteret in excuse and preparation for Creed against we meet before the Duke upon his accounts, which I drew up and it proved very well, but I am pleased to see with what secret cunning and variety of artifice this Creed has carried on his business even unknown to me, which he is now forced by an accident to communicate to me. So that taking up all the papers of moment which lead to the clearing of his accounts unobserved out of the Controller’s hand, which he now makes great use of; knowing that the Controller has not wherewith to betray him. About this all the morning, only Mr. Bland came to me about some business of his, and told me the news, which holds to be true, that the Portuguese did let in the Spaniard by a plot, and they being in the midst of the country and we believing that they would have taken the whole country, they did all rise and kill the whole body, near 8,000 men, and Don John of Austria having two horses killed under him, was forced with one man to flee away. Sir George Carteret at the office (after dinner, and Creed being gone, for both now and yesterday I was afraid to have him seen by Sir G. Carteret with me, for fear that he should increase his doubt that I am of a plot with Creed in the business of his accounts) did tell us that upon Tuesday last, being with my Lord Treasurer, he showed him a letter from Portugal speaking of the advance of the Spaniards into their country, and yet that the Portuguese were never more courageous than now; for by an old prophecy, from France, sent thither some years, though not many since, from the French King, it is foretold that the Spaniards should come into their country, and in such a valley they should be all killed, and then their country should be wholly delivered from the Spaniards. This was on Tuesday last, and yesterday came the very first news that in this very valley they had thus routed and killed the Spaniards, which is very strange but true. So late at the office, and then home to supper and to bed. This noon I received a letter from the country from my wife, wherein she seems much pleased with the country; God continue that she may have pleasure while she is there. She, by my Lady’s advice, desires a new petticoat of the new silk striped stuff, very pretty. So I went to Paternoster Row1839 presently, and bought her one, with Mr. Creed’s help, a very fine rich one, the best I did see there, and much better than she desires or expects, and sent it by Creed to Unthanke to be made against tomorrow to send by the carrier, thinking it had been but Wednesday today, but I found myself mistaken, and also the tailor being out of the way, it could not be done, but the stuff was sent me back at night by Creed to dispose of some other way to make, but now I shall keep it to next week.
. Up betimes, and Mr. Moore coming to see me, he and I discoursed of going to Oxford this Commencement, Mr. Nathaniel Crew1840 being Proctor and Mr. Childe commencing Doctor of Music this year, which I have a great mind to do, and, if I can, will order my matters so that I may do it. By and by, he and I to the Temple, it raining hard, my cousin Roger being got out, he and I walked a good while among the Temple trees discoursing of my getting my Lord to let me have security upon his estate for £100 per ann. for two lives, my own and my wife, for my money. But upon second thoughts Mr. Moore tells me it is very likely my Lord will think that I beg something, and may take it ill, and so we resolved not to move it there, but to look for it somewhere else. Here it raining hard he and I walked into the King’s Bench Court, where I never was before, and there stayed an hour almost, till it had done raining, which is a sad season, that it is said there hath not been one fair day these three months, and I think it is true, and then by water to Westminster, and at the Parliament House I spoke with Roger Pepys. The House is upon the King’s answer to their message about Temple,1841 which is, that my Lord of Bristoll did tell him that Temple did say those words; so the House are resolved upon sending some of their members to him to know the truth, and to demand satisfaction if it be not true. So by water home, and after a little while getting me ready, Sir W. Batten, Sir J. Minnes, my Lady Batten, and I by coach to Bednall Green, to Sir W. Rider’s to dinner, where a fine place, good lady mother, and their daughter, Mrs. Middleton, a fine woman. A noble dinner, and a fine merry walk with the ladies alone after dinner in the garden, which is very pleasant; the greatest quantity of strawberries I ever saw, and good, and a collation of great mirth, Sir J. Minnes reading a book of scolding very prettily. This very house1842 was built by the Blind Beggar of Bednall Green, so much talked of and sang in ballads; but they say it was only some of the outhouses of it. We drank great store of wine, and a beer glass at last which made me almost sick. At table, discoursing of thunder and lightning, they told many stories of their own knowledge at table of their masts being shivered from top to bottom, and sometimes only within and the outside whole, but among the rest Sir W. Rider did tell a story of his own knowledge, that a Genoese gally in Leghorn Roads was struck by thunder, so as the mast was broke a-pieces, and the shackle upon one of the slaves was melted clear off of his leg without hurting his leg. Sir William went on board the vessel, and would have contributed towards the release of the slave whom Heaven had thus set free, but he could not compass it, and so he was brought to his fetters again. In the evening home, and a little to my Triangle, and so to bed.
. Up by 4 o’clock and a little to my office. Then comes by agreement Sir W. Warren, and he and I from ship to ship to see deals of all sorts, whereby I have increased my knowledge and with great pleasure. Then to his yard and house, where I stayed two hours or more discoursing of the expense of the navy and the corruption of Sir W. Batten and his man Wood that he brings or would bring to sell all that is to be sold by the Navy. Then home to the office, where we sat a little, and at noon home to dinner, alone, and thence, it raining hard, by water to the Temple, and so to Lincoln’s Inn, and there walked up and down to see the new garden which they are making, and will be very pretty, and so to walk under the Chapel by agreement, whither Mr. Clerke our Solicitor came to me, and he fetched Mr. Long, our Attorney in the Exchequer in the business against Field, and I directed him to come to the best and speediest composition he could, which he will do. So home on foot, calling upon my brother’s and elsewhere upon business, and so home to my office, and there wrote letters to my father and wife, and so home to bed, taking three pills overnight.
. Early in the morning my last night’s physic worked and did give me a good stool, and then I rose and had three or four stools, and walked up and down my chamber. Then up, my maid rose and made me a posset, and by and by comes Mr. Creed, and he and I spent all the morning discoursing against tomorrow before the Duke the business of his pieces of eight, in which the Treasurer makes so many queries. At noon, my physic having done working, I went down to dinner, and then he and I up again and spent most of the afternoon reading in Cicero and other books of good discourse, and then he went away, and then came my brother Tom to see me, telling me how the Joyces do make themselves fine clothes against Mary is brought to bed. He being gone I went to cast up my monthly accounts, and to my great trouble I find myself £7 worse than I was the last month, but I confess it is by my reckoning beforehand a great many things, yet however I am troubled to see that I can hardly promise myself to lay up much from month’s end to month’s end, about £4 or £5 at most, one month with another, without some extraordinary gettings, but I must and I hope I shall continue to have a care of my own expenses. So to the reading my vows seriously and then to supper. This evening there came my boy’s brother to see for him, and tells me he knows not where he is, himself being out of town this week and is very sorry that he is gone, and so am I, but he shall come no more. So to prayers, and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, and by and by to the Temple, and there appointed to meet in the evening about my business, and thence I walked home, and up and down the streets is cried mightily the great victory got by the Portugals against the Spaniards, where 10,000 slain, 3 or 4,000 taken prisoners, with all the artillery, baggage, money, etc., and Don John of Austria1843 forced to flee with a man or two with him, which is very great news. Thence home and at my office all the morning, and then by water to St. James’s, but no meeting today being holy day, but met Mr. Creed in the Park, and after a walk or two, discoursing his business, took leave of him in Westminster Hall, whither we walked, and then came again to the Hall and fell to talk with Mrs. Lane, and after great talk that she never went abroad with any man as she used heretofore to do, I with one word got her to go with me and to meet me at the further Rhenish wine-house,1844 where I did give her a Lobster and do so touse her and feel her all over, making her believe how fair and good a skin she has, and indeed she has a very white thigh and leg, but monstrous fat. When weary I did give over and somebody, having seen some of our dalliance, called aloud in the street, “Sir! why do you kiss the gentlewoman so?” and flung a stone at the window, which vexed me, but I believe they could not see my touzing her, and so we broke up and I went out the back way, without being observed I think, and so she towards the Hall and I to Whitehall, where taking water I to the Temple with my cousin Roger and Mr. Goldsborough to Gray’s Inn to his counsel, one Mr. Rawworth, a very fine man, where it being the question whether I as executor should give a warrant to Goldsborough in my reconveying her estate back again, the mortgage being performed against all acts of the testator, but only my own, my cousin said he never heard it asked before; and the other that it was always asked, and he never heard it denied, or scrupled before, so great a distance was there in their opinions, enough to make a man forswear ever having to do with the law; so they agreed to refer it to Serjeant Maynard.1845 So we broke up, and I by water home from the Temple, and there to Sir W. Batten and eat with him, he and his lady and Sir J. Minnes having been below today upon the East India men that are come in, but never tell me so, but that they have been at Woolwich and Deptford, and done great deal of business. God help them. So home and up to my lute long, and then, after a little Latin chapter with Will, to bed. But I have used of late, since my wife went, to make a bad use of my fancy with whatever woman I have a mind to, which I am ashamed of, and shall endeavour to do so no more. So to sleep.
. Up betimes yesterday and today, the sun rising very bright and glorious; and yet yesterday, as it hath been these two months and more, was a foul day the most part of the day. By and by by water to Whitehall, and there to my Lord’s lodgings by appointment, whither Mr. Creed comes to me, having been at Chelsey this morning to fetch my Lord to St. James’s. So he and I to the Park, where we understand that the King and Duke are gone out betimes this morning on board the East India ships lately come in, and so our meeting appointed is lost. But he and I walked at the further end of the Park, not to be observed, whither by and by comes my Lord Sandwich, and he and we walked two hours and more in the Park and then in Whitehall Gallery, and lastly in Whitehall Garden, discoursing of Mr. Creed’s accounts, and how to answer the Treasurer’s objections. I find that the business is £500 deep, the advantage of Creed, and why my Lord and I should be concerned to promote his profit with so much dishonour and trouble to us I know not, but however we shall do what we can, though he deserves it not, for there is nothing even to his own advantage that can be got out of him, but by mere force. So full of policy he is in the smallest matters, that I perceive him to be made up of nothing but design. I left him here, being in my mind vexed at the trouble that this business gets me, and the distance that it makes between Sir G. Carteret and myself, which I ought to avoyd. Thence by water home and to dinner, and afterwards to the office, and there sat till evening, and then I by water to Deptford to see Sir W. Penn, who lies ill at Captain Rooth’s, but in a way to be well again this weather, this day being the only fair day we have had these two or three months. Among other discourse I did tell him plainly some of my thoughts concerning Sir W. Batten and the office in general, upon design for him to understand that I do mind things and will not balk to take notice of them, that when he comes to be well again he may know how to look upon me. Thence homeward walked, and in my way met Creed coming to meet me, and then turned back and walk a while, and so to boat and home by water, I being not very forward to talk of his business, and he by design the same, to see how I would speak of it, but I did not, but in general terms, and so after supper with general discourse to bed and sleep. Thus, by God’s blessing, ends this book of two years; I being in all points in good health and a good way to thrive and do well. Some money I do and can lay up, but not much, being worth now above £700, besides goods of all sorts. My wife in the country with Ashwell, her woman, with my father; myself at home with W. Hewer and my cook-maid Hannah, my boy Wayneman being lately run away from me. In my office, my repute and understanding good, especially with the Duke and Mr. Coventry; only the rest of the officers do rather envy than love me, I standing in most of their lights, specially Sir W. Batten, whose cheats I do daily oppose to his great trouble, though he appears mighty kind and willing to keep friendship with me, while Sir J. Minnes, like a dotard, is led by the nose by him. My wife and I, by my late jealousy, for which I am truly to be blamed, have not the kindness between us which we used and ought to have, and I fear will be lost hereafter if I do not take course to oblige her and yet preserve my authority. Public matters are in an ill condition; Parliament sitting and raising four subsidies for the King, which is but a little, considering his wants; and yet that parted withal with great hardness. They being offended to see so much money go, and no debts of the public’s paid, but all swallowed by a luxurious Court: which the King it is believed and hoped will retrench in a little time, when he comes to see the utmost of the revenue which shall be settled on him: he expecting to have his £1,200,000 made good to him, which is not yet done by above £150,000, as he himself reports to the House. My differences with my uncle Thomas at a good quiet, blessed be God! and other matters. The town full of the great overthrow lately given to the Spaniards by the Portugals, they being advanced into the very middle of Portugal. The weather wet for two or three months together beyond belief, almost not one fair day coming between till this day, which has been a very pleasant [day] and the first pleasant [day] this summer. The charge of the Navy intended to be limited to £200,000 per annum, the ordinary charge of it, and that to be settled upon the Customs. The King yet greatly taken up with Madam Castlemaine and Mrs. Stewart, which God of Heaven put an end to! Myself very studious to learn what I can of all things necessary for my place as an officer of the Navy, reading lately what concerns measuring of timber and knowledge of the tides. I have of late spent much time with Creed, being led to it by his business of his accounts, but I find him a fellow of those designs and tricks, that there is no degree of true friendship to be made with him, and therefore I must cast him off, though he be a very understanding man, and one that much may be learned of as to cunning and judging of other men. Besides, too, I do perceive more and more that my time of pleasure and idleness of any sort must be flung off to attend to getting of some money and the keeping of my family in order, which I fear by my wife’s liberty may be otherwise lost.
July 1663
. This morning it rained so hard (though it was fair yesterday, and we thereupon in hopes of having some fair weather, which we have wanted these three months) that it wakened Creed, who lay with me last night, and me, and so we up and fell to discourse of the business of his accounts now under dispute, in which I have taken much trouble upon myself and raised a distance between Sir G. Carteret and myself, which troubles me, but I hope we have this morning light on an expedient that will right all, that will answer their queries, and yet save Creed the £500 which he did propose to make of the exchange abroad of the pieces of eight which he disbursed. Being ready, he and I by water to Whitehall, where I left him before we came into the Court, for fear I should be seen by Sir G. Carteret with him, which of late I have been forced to avoid to remove suspicion. I to St. James’s, and there discoursed a while with Mr. Coventry, between whom and myself there is very good understanding and friendship, and so to Westminster Hall, and being in the Parliament lobby, I there saw my Lord of Bristoll1846 come to the Commons House to give his answer to their question, about some words he should tell the King that were spoke by Sir Richard Temple, a member of their House. A chair was set at the bar of the House for him, which he used but little, but made an harangue of half an hour bareheaded, the House covered. His speech being done, he came out and withdrew into a little room till the House had concluded of an answer to his speech; which they staying long upon, I went away. And by and by out comes Sir W. Batten; and he told me that his Lordship had made a long and a comedian-like speech, and delivered with such action as was not becoming his Lordship. He confesses he did tell the King such a thing of Sir Richard Temple, but that upon his honour they were not spoke by Sir Richard, he having taken a liberty of enlarging to the King upon the discourse which had been between Sir Richard and himself lately; and so took upon himself the whole blame, and desired their pardon, it being not to do any wrong to their fellow-member, but out of zeal to the King. He told them, among many other things, that as to his religion he was a Roman Catholic, but such a one as thought no man to have right to the Crown of England but the Prince that hath it; and such a one as, if the King should desire his counsel as to his own, he would not advise him to another religion than the old true reformed religion of this country, it being the properest of this kingdom as it now stands; and concluded with a submission to what the House shall do with him, saying, that whatever they shall do, says he, “thanks be to God, this head, this heart, and this sword (pointing to them all), will find me a being in any place in Europe.” The House hath hereupon voted clearly Sir Richard Temple to be free from the imputation of saying those words; but when Sir William Batten came out, had not concluded what to say to my Lord, it being argued that to own any satisfaction as to my Lord from his speech, would be to lay some fault upon the King for the message he should upon no better accounts send to the impeaching of one of their members. Walking out, I hear that the House of Lords are offended that my Lord Digby should come to this House and make a speech there without leave first asked of the House of Lords. I hear also of another difficulty now upon him; that my Lord of Sunderland1847 (whom I do not know) was so near to the marriage of his daughter as that the wedding-clothes were made, and portion and everything agreed on and ready; and the other day he goes away nobody yet knows whither, sending her the next morning a release of his right or claim to her, and advice to his friends not to enquire into the reason of this doing, for he hath enough for it; but that he gives them liberty to say and think what they will of him, so they do not demand the reason of his leaving her, being resolved never to have her, but the reason desires and resolves not to give.1848 Thence by water with Sir W. Batten to Trinity House, there to dine with him, which we did; and after dinner we fell talking, Sir J. Minnes, Mr. Batten and I; Mr. Batten telling us of a late triall of Sir Charles Sydly1849 the other day, before my Lord Chief Justice Foster1850 and the whole bench, for his debauchery a little while since at Oxford Kate’s,1851 coming in open day into the Balcone and showed his nakedness, … and abusing of scripture and as it were from thence preaching a mountebank sermon from the pulpit, saying that there he had to sell such a powder as should make all the [women] in town run after him, 1,000 people standing underneath to see and hear him, and that being done he took a glass of wine … and then drank it off, and then took another and drank the King’s health. It seems my Lord and the rest of the judges did all of them round give him a most high reproof; my Lord Chief justice saying, that it was for him, and such wicked wretches as he was, that God’s anger and judgments hung over us, calling him sirrah many times. It’s said they have bound him to his good behaviour (there being no law against him for it) in £5,000. It being told that my Lord Buckhurst was there, my Lord asked whether it was that Buckhurst that was lately tried for robbery;1852 and when answered Yes, he asked whether he had so soon forgot his deliverance at that time, and that it would have more become him to have been at his prayers begging God’s forgiveness, than now running into such courses again. … Thence home, and my clerks being gone by my leave to see the East India ships that are lately come home, I stayed all alone within my office all the afternoon. This day I hear at dinner that Don John of Austria, since his flight out of Portugal, is dead of his wounds:1853 so there is a great man gone, and a great dispute like to be ended for the crown of Spain, if the King should have died before him. I received this morning a letter from my wife, brought by John Gower to town, wherein I find a sad falling out between my wife and my father and sister and Ashwell upon my writing to my father to advise Pall not to keep Ashwell from her mistress, or making any difference between them. Which Pall telling to Ashwell, and she speaking some words that her mistress heard, caused great difference among them; all which I am sorry from my heart to hear of, and I fear will breed ill blood not to be laid again. So that I fear my wife and I may have some falling out about it, or at least my father and I, but I shall endeavour to salve up all as well as I can, or send for her out of the country before the time intended, which I would be loth to do. In the evening by water to my coz. Roger Pepys’ chamber, where he was not come, but I found Dr. John newly come to town, and is well again after his sickness; but, Lord! what a simple man he is as to any public matter of state, and talks so sillily to his brother Dr. Tom. What the matter is I know not, but he has taken (as my father told me a good while since) such displeasure that he hardly would touch his hat to me, and I as little to him. By and by comes Roger, and he told us the whole passage of my Lord Digby today, much as I have said here above; only that he did say that he would draw his sword against the Pope himself, if he should offer anything against his Majesty, and the good of these nations; and that he never was the man that did either look for a Cardinal’s cap for himself, or anybody else, meaning Abbot Montagu;1854 and the House upon the whole did vote Sir Richard Temple innocent; and that my Lord Digby hath cleared the honour of his Majesty, and Sir Richard Temple’s, and given perfect satisfaction of his own respects to the House. Thence to my brother’s, and being vexed with his not minding my father’s business here in getting his Landscape done, I went away in an anger, and walked home, and so up to my lute and then to bed.
. Up betimes to my office, and there all the morning doing business, at noon to the ’Change, and there met with several people, among others Captain Cox, and with him to a Coffee [House], and drank with him and some other merchants. Good discourse. Thence home and to dinner, and, after a little alone at my viol, to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and so rose at the evening, and then home to supper and to bed, after a little music. My mind troubled me with the thoughts of the difference between my wife and my father in the country. Walking in the garden this evening with Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes, Sir G. Carteret told us with great contempt how like a stage-player my Lord Digby spoke yesterday, pointing to his head as my Lord did, and saying, “First, for his head,” says Sir G. Carteret, “I know what a calf’s head would have done better by half: for his heart and his sword, I have nothing to say to them.” He told us that for certain his head cost the late King his, for it was he that broke off the treaty at Uxbridge. He told us also how great a man he was raised from a private gentleman1855 in France by Monsieur Grandmont,1856 and afterwards by the Cardinall1857 who raised him to be a Lieutenant-general, and then higher; and entrusted by the Cardinall, when he was banished out of France, with great matters, and recommended by him to the Queen1858 as a man to be trusted and ruled by: yet when he came to have some power over the Queen, he begun to dissuade her from her opinion of the Cardinal; which she said nothing to till the Cardinal was returned, and then she told him of it; who told my Lord Digby, “Eh bien, Monsieur, vous estes un fort bon amy donc:” but presently put him out of all; and then he was, from a certainty of coming in two or three years’ time to be Mareschall of France (to which all strangers, even Protestants,1859 and those as often as French themselves, are capable of coming, though it be one of the greatest places in France), he was driven to go out of France into Flanders; but there was not trusted, nor received any kindness from the Prince of Conde, as one to whom also he had been false, as he had been to the Cardinal and Grandmont. In fine, he told us how he is a man of excellent parts, but of no great faith nor judgment, and one very easy to get up to great height of preferment, but never able to hold it. So home and to my music; and then comes Mr. Creed to me giving me an account of his accounts, how he has now settled them fit for perusal the most strict, at which I am glad. So he and I to bed together.
. Up and he home, and I with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten by coach to Westminster, to St. James’s, thinking to meet Sir G. Carteret, and to attend the Duke, but he not coming we broke up, and so to Westminster Hall, and there meeting with Mr. Moore he tells me great news that my Lady Castlemaine is fallen from Court, and this morning retired. He gives me no account of the reason of it, but that it is so: for which I am sorry: and yet if the King do it to leave off not only her but all other mistresses, I should be heartily glad of it, that he may fall to look after business. I hear my Lord Digby is condemned at Court for his speech, and that my Lord Chancellor grows great again. Thence with Mr. Creed, whom I called at his chamber, over the water to Lambeth; but could not, it being morning, get to see the Archbishop’s hearse: so he and I walked over the fields to Southwark, and there parted, and I spent half an hour in Mary Overy’s Church,1860 where are fine monuments of great antiquity, I believe, and has been a fine church. Thence to the ’Change, and meeting Sir J. Minnes there, he and I walked to look upon Backwell’s design of making another alley from his shop through over against the Exchange door,1861 which will be very noble and quite put down the other two. So home to dinner and then to the office, and entered in my manuscript book the Victualler’s contract, and then over the water and walked to see Sir W. Penn, and sat with him a while, and so home late, and to my viol. So up comes Creed again to me and stays all night, tomorrow morning being a hearing before the Duke. So to bed full of discourse of his business.
. Up by 4 o’clock and sent him to get matters ready, and I to my office looking over papers and mending my manuscript by scraping out the blots and other things, which is now a very fine book. So to St. James’s by water with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, I giving occasion to a wager about the tide, that it did flow through bridge, by which Sir W. Batten won 5s. of Sir J. Minnes. At St. James’s we stayed while the Duke made himself ready. Among other things Sir Allen Apsley1862 showed the Duke the Lisbon Gazette in Spanish, where the late victory is set down particularly, and to the great honour of the English beyond measure. They have since taken back Evora,1863 which was lost to the Spaniards, the English making the assault, and lost not more than three men. Here I learnt that the English foot are highly esteemed all over the world, but the horse not so much, which yet we count among ourselves the best; but they abroad have had no great knowledge of our horse, it seems. The Duke being ready, we retired with him, and there fell upon Mr. Creed’s business, where the Treasurer did, like a mad coxcomb, without reason or method run over a great many things against the account, and so did Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, which the Duke himself and Mr. Coventry and my Lord Barkely and myself did remove, and Creed being called in did answer all with great method and excellently to the purpose (myself I am a little conscious did not speak so well as I purposed and do think I used to do, that is, not so intelligibly and persuasively, as I well hoped I should), not that what I said was not well taken, and did carry the business with what was urged and answered by Creed and Mr. Coventry, till the Duke himself did declare that he was satisfied, and my Lord Barkely offered to lay £100 that the King would receive no wrong in the account, and the two last knights held their tongues, or at least by not understanding it did say what made for Mr. Creed, and so Sir G. Carteret was left alone, but yet persisted to say that the account was not good, but full of corruption and foul dealing. And so we broke up to his shame, but I do fear to the loss of his friendship to me a good while, which I am heartily troubled for. Thence with Creed to the King’s Head ordinary; but, coming late, dined at the second table very well for 12d.; and a pretty gentleman in our company, who confirms my Lady Castlemaine’s being gone from Court, but knows not the reason; he told us of one wipe the Queen a little while ago did give her, when she came in and found the Queen under the dresser’s hands, and had been so long: “I wonder your Majesty,” says she, “can have the patience to sit so long a-dressing?”—“I have so much reason to use patience,” says the Queen, “that I can very well bear with it.” He thinks that it may be the Queen hath commanded her to retire, though that is not likely. Thence with Creed to hire a coach to carry us to Hide Park, today there being a general muster of the King’s Guards, horse and foot: but they demand so high, that I, spying Mr. Cutler the merchant, did take notice of him, and he going into his coach, and telling me that he was going to show a couple of Swedish strangers the muster, I asked and went along with him; where a goodly sight to see so many fine horses and officers, and the King, Duke, and others come by a-horseback, and the two Queens in the Queen-Mother’s coach, my Lady Castlemaine not being there. And after long being there, I ’light, and walked to the place where the King, Duke, etc., did stand to see the horse and foot march by and discharge their guns, to show a French Marquisse (for whom this muster was caused) the goodness of our firemen; which indeed was very good, though not without a slip now and then; and one broadside close to our coach we had going out of the Park, even to the nearness as to be ready to burn our hairs. Yet methought all these gay men are not the soldiers that must do the King’s business, it being such as these that lost the old King all he had, and were beat by the most ordinary fellows that could be. Thence with much ado out of the Park, and I ’lighted and through St. James’s down the waterside over, to Lambeth, to see the Archbishop’s corpse (who is to be carried away to Oxford on Monday), but came too late, and so walked over the fields and bridge home (calling by the way at old George’s), but find that he is dead, and there wrote several letters, and so home to supper and to bed. This day in the Duke’s chamber there being a Roman story in the hangings, and upon the standards written these four letters—S. P. Q. R., Sir G. Carteret came to me to know what the meaning of those four letters were; which ignorance is not to be borne in a Privy Counsellor, methinks, that a schoolboy should be whipt for not knowing.
. Lady Batten had sent twice to invite me to go with them to Walthamstow today, Mrs. Martha1864 being married already this morning to Mr. Castle, at this parish church. I could not rise soon enough to go with them, but got myself ready, and so to Games’s, where I got a horse and rode thither very pleasantly, only coming to make water I found a stopping, which makes me fearful of my old pain. Being come thither, I was well received, and had two pair of gloves, as the rest, and walked up and down with my Lady in the garden, she mighty kind to me, and I have the way to please her. A good dinner and merry, but methinks none of the kindness nor bridall respect between the bridegroom and bride, that was between my wife and I, but as persons that marry purely for convenience. After dinner to church by coach, and there my Lady, Mrs. Turner, Mrs. Lemon,1865 and I only, we, in spite to one another, kept one another awake; and sometimes I read in my book of Latin plays, which I took in my pocket, thinking to have walked it. An old doting parson preached. So home again, and by and by up and homewards, calling in our way (Sir J. Minnes and I only) at Mr. Batten’s (who with his lady and child went in another coach by us), which is a very pretty house, and himself in all things within and without very ingenious, and I find a very fine study and good books. So set out, Sir J. Minnes and I in his coach together, talking all the way of chymistry, wherein he do know something, at least, seems so to me, that cannot correct him, Mr. Batten’s man riding my horse, and so home and to my office a while to read my vows, then home to prayers and to bed.
. Up pretty early and to my office all the morning, writing out a list of the King’s ships in my Navy collections with great pleasure. At noon Creed comes to me, who tells me how well he has sped with Sir G. Carteret after all our trouble, that he had his tallies up and all the kind words possible from him, which I believe is out of an apprehension what a fool he has made of himself hitherto in making so great a stop therein. But I find, and so my Lord Sandwich may, that Sir G. Carteret had a design to do him a disgrace, if he could possibly, otherwise he would never have carried the business so far after that manner, but would first have consulted my Lord and given him advice what to do therein for his own honour, which he thought endangered. Creed dined with me and then walked a while, and so away, and I to my office at my morning’s work till dark night, and so with good content home. To supper, a little music, and then to bed.
. Up by 4 o’clock and to my office, and there continued all the morning upon my Navy book to my great content. At noon down by barge with Sir J. Minnes (who is going to Chatham) to Woolwich, in our way eating of some venison pasty in the barge, I having neither eat nor drank today, which fills me full of wind. Here also in Mr. Pett’s garden I eat some and the first cherries I have eat this year, off the tree where the King himself had been gathering some this morning. Thence walked alone, only part of the way Deane walked with me, complaining of many abuses in the Yard, to Greenwich, and so by water to Deptford, where I found Mr. Coventry, and with him up and down all the stores, to the great trouble of the officers, and by his help I am resolved to fall hard to work again, as I used to do. So thence he and I by water talking of many things, and I see he puts his trust most upon me in the Navy, and talks, as there is reason, slightly of the two old knights, and I should be glad by any drudgery to see the King’s stores and service looked to as they ought, but I fear I shall never understand half the miscarriages and tricks that the King suffers by. He tells me what Mr. Pett did today, that my Lord Bristoll told the King that he will impeach the Chancellor of High Treason: but I find that my Lord Bristoll hath undone himself already in everybody’s opinion, and now he endeavours to raise dust to put out other men’s eyes, as well as his own; but I hope it will not take, in consideration merely that it is hard for a Prince to spare an experienced old officer, be he never so corrupt; though I hope this man is not so, as some report him to be. He tells me that Don John is yet alive, and not killed, as was said, in the great victory against the Spaniards in Portugal of late. So home, and late at my office. Thence home and to my music. This night Mr. Turner’s house being to be emptied out of my cellar, and therefore I think to sit up a little longer than ordinary. This afternoon, coming from the waterside with Mr. Coventry, I spied my boy upon Tower Hill playing with the rest of the boys; so I sent W. Griffin to take him, and he did bring him to me, and so I said nothing to him, but caused him to be stripped (for he was run away with his best suit), and so putting on his other, I sent him going, without saying one word hard to him, though I am troubled for the rogue, though he do not deserve it. Being come home I find my stomach not well for want of eating today my dinner as I should do, and so am become full of wind. I called late for some victuals, and so to bed, leaving the men below in the cellar emptying the vats up through Mr. Turner’s own house, and so with more content to bed late.
. Being weary, and going to bed late last night, I slept till 7 o’clock, it raining mighty hard, and so did every minute of the day after sadly. But I know not what will become of the corn this year, we having had but two fair days these many months. Up and to my office, where all the morning busy, and then at noon home to dinner alone upon a good dish of eeles, given me by Michell, the Bewpers’ man, and then to my viol a little, and then down into the cellar and up and down with Mr. Turner to see where his vault may be made bigger, or another made him, which I think may well be. And so to my office, where very busy all day setting things in order my contract books and preparing things against the next sitting. In the evening I received letters out of the country, among others from my wife, who methinks writes so coldly that I am much troubled at it, and I fear shall have much ado to bring her to her old good temper. So home to supper and music, which is all the pleasure I have of late given myself, or is fit I should, others spending too much time and money. Going in I stepped to Sir W. Batten, and there stayed and talked with him (my Lady being in the country), and sent for some lobsters, and Mrs. Turner came in, and did bring us an umble pie hot out of her oven, extraordinary good, and afterwards some spirits of her making, in which she has great judgment, very good, and so home, merry with this night’s refreshment.
. Up. Making water this morning, which I do every morning as soon as I am awake, with greater plenty and freedom than I used to do, which I think I may impute to last night’s drinking of elder spirits. Abroad, it raining, to Blackfriars, and there went into a little alehouse and stayed while I sent to the Wardrobe, but Mr. Moore was gone out. Here I kissed three or four times the maid of the house, who is a pretty girl, but very modest, and, God forgive me, had a mind to something more. Thence to my lawyer’s; up and down to the Six Clerks’ Office, where I found my bill against Tom Trice dismissed, which troubles me, it being through my neglect, and will put me to charges. So to Mr. Phillips, and discoursed with him about finding me out somebody that will let me have for money an annuity of about £100 per annum for two lives. So home, and there put up my riding things against the evening, in case Mr. Moore should continue his mind to go to Oxford, which I have little mind to do, the weather continuing so bad and the waters high. Dined at home, and Mr. Moore in the afternoon comes to me and concluded not to go. Sir W. Batten and I sat a little this afternoon at the office, and thence I by water to Deptford, and there mustered the Yard, purposely, God forgive me, to find out Bagwell, a carpenter, whose wife is a pretty woman, that I might have some occasion of knowing him and forcing her to come to the office again, which I did so luckily that going thence he and his wife did of themselves meet me in the way to thank me for my old kindness, but I spoke little to her, but shall give occasion for her coming to me. Her husband went along with me to show me Sir W. Penn’s lodging, which I knew before, but only to have a time of speaking to him and sounding him. So left and I went in to Sir W. Penn, who continues ill, and worse, I think, than before. He tells me my Lady Castlemaine was at Court, for all this talk this week, which I am glad to hear; but it seems the King is stranger than ordinary to her. Thence walked home as I used to do, and to bed presently, having taken great cold in my feet by walking in the dirt this day in thin shoes or some other way, so that I begun to be in pain, and with warm clothes made myself better by morning, but yet in pain.
. Up late and by water to Westminster Hall, where I met Pierce the chirurgeon, who tells me that for certain the King is grown colder to my Lady Castlemaine than ordinary, and that he believes he begins to love the Queen, and do make much of her, more than he used to do. Up to the Lobby, and there sent out for Mr. Coventry and Sir W. Batten, and told them if they thought convenient I would go to Chatham today, Sir John Minnes being already there at a Pay, and I would do such and such business there, which they thought well of, and so I went home and prepared myself to go after, dinner with Sir W. Batten. Sir W. Batten and Mr. Coventry tell me that my Lord Bristoll hath this day impeached my Lord Chancellor in the House of Lords of High Treason. The chief of the articles are these: 1st. That he should be the occasion of the peace made with Holland lately upon such disadvantageous terms, and that he was bribed to it. 2nd. That Dunkirke was also sold by his advice chiefly, so much to the damage of England. 3rd. That he had £6,000 given him for the drawing-up or promoting of the Irish declaration lately, concerning the division of the lands there. 4th. He did carry on the design of the Portugal match, so much to the prejudice of the Crown of England, notwithstanding that he knew the Queen is not capable of bearing children. 5th. That the Duke’s marrying of his daughter was a practice of his, thereby to raise his family; and that it was done by indirect courses. 6th. That the breaking-off of the match with Parma, in which he was employed at the very time when the match with Portugal was made up here, which he took as a great slur to him, and so it was; and that, indeed, is the chief occasion of all this feud. 7th. That he hath endeavoured to bring in Popery, and wrote to the Pope for a cap for a subject of the King of England’s (my Lord Aubigny);1866 and some say that he lays it to the Chancellor, that a good Protestant Secretary (Sir Edward Nicholas) was laid aside, and a Papist, Sir H. Bennet, put in his room: which is very strange, when the last of these two is his own creature, and such an enemy accounted to the Chancellor, that they never did nor do agree; and all the world did judge the Chancellor to be falling from the time that Sir H. Bennet was brought in. Besides my Lord Bristoll being a Catholic himself, all this is very strange. These are the main of the Articles. Upon which my Lord Chancellor desired that the noble Lord that brought in these Articles, would sign to them with his hand; which my Lord Bristoll did presently. Then the House did order that the judges should, against Monday next, bring in their opinion, Whether these articles are treason, or no? and next, they would know, Whether they were brought in regularly or no, without leave of the Lords’ House? After dinner I took boat (H. Russell) and down to Gravesend in good time, and thence with a guide post to Chatham, where I found Sir J. Minnes and Mr. Wayth walking in the garden, whom I told all this day’s news, which I left the town full of, and it is great news, and will certainly be in the consequence of it. By and by to supper, and after long discourse, Sir J. Minnes and I, he saw me to my chamber, which not pleasing me, I sent word so to Mrs. Bradford, that I should be crowded into such a hole, while the clerks and boarders of her own take up the best rooms. However I lay there and slept well.
. Up early and to the Dock, and with the Storekeeper and other officers all the morning from one office to another. At noon to the Hill-house in Commissioner Pett’s coach, and after seeing the guard-ships, to dinner, and after dining done to the Dock by coach, it raining hard, to see The Prince launched, which hath lain in the Dock in repairing these three years. I went into her and was launched in her. Thence by boat ashore, it raining, and I went to Mr. Barrow’s, where Sir J. Minnes and Commissioner Pett; we stayed long eating sweetmeats and drinking, and looking over some antiquities of Mr. Barrow’s, among others an old manuscript Almanac, that I believe was made for some monastery, in parchment, which I could spend much time upon to understand. Here was a pretty young lady, a niece of Barrow’s, which I took much pleasure to look on. Thence by barge to St. Mary Creek; where Commissioner Pett (doubtful of the growing greatness of Portsmouth by the finding of those creeks there), do design a wet dock at no great charge, and yet no little one; he thinks towards £10,000. And the place, indeed, is likely to be a very fit place, when the King hath money to do it with. Thence, it raining as hard as it could pour down, home to the Hillhouse, and anon to supper, and after supper, Sir J. Minnes and I had great discourse with Captain Cox and Mr. Hempson about business of the yard, and particularly of pursers’ accounts with Hempson, who is a cunning knave in that point. So late to bed and, Mr. Wayth being gone, I lay above in the Treasurer’s bed and slept well. About one or two in the morning the curtains of my bed being drawn waked me, and I saw a man stand there by the inside of my bed calling me French dog 20 times, one after another, and I starting, as if I would get out of the bed, he fell a-laughing as hard as he could drive, still calling me French dog, and laid his hand on my shoulder. At last, whether I said anything or no I cannot tell, but I perceived the man, after he had looked wistly upon me, and found that I did not answer him to the names that he called me by, which was Salmon, Sir Carteret’s clerk, and Robt. Maddox, another of the clerks, he put off his hat on a sudden, and forebore laughing, and asked who I was, saying, “Are you Mr. Pepys?” I told him yes, and now being come a little better to myself, I found him to be Tom Willson, Sir W. Batten’s clerk, and fearing he might be in some melancholy fit, I was at a loss what to do or say. At last I asked him what he meant. He desired my pardon for that he was mistaken, for he thought verily, not knowing of my coming to lie there, that it had been Salmon, the Frenchman, with whom he intended to have made some sport. So I made nothing of it, but bade him good night, and I, after a little pause, to sleep again, being well pleased that it ended no worse, and being a little the better pleased with it, because it was the Surveyor’s clerk, which will make sport when I come to tell Sir W. Batten of it, it being a report that old Edgeborough,1867 the former Surveyor, who died here, do now and then walk.
. Up, and meeting Tom Willson he asked my pardon again, which I easily did give him, telling him only that it was well I was not a woman with child, for it might have made me miscarry. With Sir J. Minnes to church, where an indifferent good sermon. Here I saw Mrs. Becky Allen, who hath been married, and is this day churched, after her bearing a child. She is grown tall, but looks very white and thin, and I can find no occasion while I am here to come to have her company, which I desire and expected in my coming, but only coming out of the church I kissed her and her sister and mother-in-law. So to dinner, Sir J. Minnes, Commissioner Pett, and I, etc., and after dinner walked in the garden, it being a very fine day, the best we have had this great while, if not this whole summer. To church again, and after that walked through the Rope-ground to the Dock, and there over and over the Dock and grounds about it, and storehouses, etc., with the officers of the Yard, and then to Commissioner Pett’s and had a good sullybub and other good things, and merry. Commissioner Pett showed me alone his bodies as a secret, which I found afterwards by discourse with Sir J. Minnes that he had shown them him, wherein he seems to suppose great mystery in the nature of Lines to be hid, but I do not understand it at all. Thence walked to the Hill-house, being myself much dissatisfied, and more than I thought I should have been with Commissioner Pett, being, by what I saw since I came hither, convinced that he is not able to exercise the command in the Yard over the officers that he ought to do, or somebody else, if ever the service be well looked after there. Sat up and with Sir J. Minnes talking, and he speaking his mind in slighting of the Commissioner, for which I wish there was not so much reason. For I do see he is but a man of words, though indeed he is the ablest man that we have to do service if he would or durst. Sir J. Minnes being gone to bed, I took Mr. Whitfield, one of the clerks, and walked to the Dock about eleven at night, and there got a boat and a crew, and rowed down to the guard-ships, it being a most pleasant moonshine evening that ever I saw almost. The guard-ships were very ready to hail us, being no doubt commanded thereto by their Captain, who remembers how I surprised them the last time I was here. However, I found him ashore, but the ship in pretty good order, and the arms well fixed, charged, and primed. Thence to the Sovereign, where I found no officers aboard, no arms fixed, nor any powder to prime their few guns, which were charged, without bullet though. So to the London, where neither officers nor anybody awake; I boarded her, and might have done what I would, and at last could find but three little boys; and so spent the whole night in visiting all the ships, in which I found, for the most part, neither an officer aboard, nor any men so much as awake, which I was grieved to find, specially so soon after a great Larum, as Commissioner Pett brought us word that he [had] provided against, and put all in a posture of defence but a week ago, all which I am resolved to represent to the Duke.
. So, it being high day, I put in to shore and to bed for two hours just, and so up again, and with the Storekeeper and Clerk of the Rope-yard up and down the Dock and Rope-house, and by and by mustered the Yard, and instructed the Clerks of the Cheque in my new way of Callbook, and that and other things done, to the Hill-house, and there we eat something, and so by barge to Rochester, and there took coach hired for our passage to London, and Mrs. Allen, the clerk of the Rope-yard’s wife with us, desiring her passage, and it being a most pleasant and warm day, we got by four o’clock home. In our way she telling us in what condition Becky Allen1868 is married against all expectation a fellow that proves to be a coxcomb and worth little if anything at all, and yet are entered into a way of living above their condition that will ruin them presently, for which, for the lady’s sake, I am much troubled. Home I found all well there, and after dressing myself, I walked to the Temple; and there, from my cousin Roger, hear that the judges have this day brought in their answer to the Lords, That the articles against my Lord Chancellor are not Treason; and tomorrow they are to bring in their arguments to the House for the same. This day also the King did send by my Lord Chamberlain to the Lords, to tell them from him, that the most of the articles against my Lord Chancellor he himself knows to be false. Thence by water to Whitehall, and so walked to St. James’s, but missed Mr. Coventry. I met the Queen-Mother walking in the Pell Mell, led by my Lord St. Alban’s. And finding many coaches at the Gate, I found upon enquiry that the Duchess is brought to bed of a boy;1869 and hearing that the King and Queen are rode abroad with the Ladies of Honour to the Park, and seeing a great crowd of gallants staying here to see their return, I also stayed walking up and down, and among others spying a man like Mr. Pembleton (though I have little reason to think it should be he, speaking and discoursing long with my Lord D’Aubigne), yet how my blood did rise in my face, and I fell into a sweat from my old jealousy and hate, which I pray God remove from me. By and by the King and Queen, who looked in this dress (a white laced waistcoat and a crimson short pettycoat, and her hair dressed à la negligence) mighty pretty; and the King rode hand in hand with her. Here was also my Lady Castlemaine rode among the rest of the ladies; but the King took, methought, no notice of her; nor when they ’light did anybody press (as she seemed to expect, and stayed for it) to take her down, but was taken down by her own gentleman. She looked mighty out of humour, and had a yellow plume in her hat (which all took notice of), and yet is very handsome, but very melancholy: nor did anybody speak to her, or she so much as smile or speak to anybody. I followed them up into Whitehall, and into the Queen’s presence, where all the ladies walked, talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and changing and trying one another’s by one another’s heads, and laughing. But it was the finest sight to me, considering their great beauties and dress, that ever I did see in all my life. But, above all, Mrs. Stewart in this dress, with her hat cocked and a red plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and excellent taille, is now the greatest beauty I ever saw, I think, in my life; and, if ever woman can, do exceed my Lady Castlemaine, at least in this dress nor do I wonder if the King changes, which I verily believe is the reason of his coldness to my Lady Castlemaine. Here late, with much ado I left to look upon them, and went away, and by water, in a boat with other strange company, there being no other to be had, and out of him into a sculler half to the bridge, and so home and to Sir W. Batten, where I stayed telling him and Sir J. Minnes and Mrs. Turner, with great mirth, my being frighted at Chatham by young Edgeborough, and so home to supper and to bed, before I sleep fancying myself to sport with Mrs. Stewart with great pleasure.
. Up a little late, last night recovering my sleepiness for the night before, which was lost, and so to my office to put papers and things to right, and making up my journal from Wednesday last to this day. All the morning at my office doing of business; at noon Mr. Hunt came to me, and he and I to the Exchange, and a Coffee House, and drank there, and thence to my house to dinner, whither my uncle Thomas came, and he tells me that he is going down to Wisbech, there to try what he can recover of my uncle Day’s estate, and seems to have good arguments for what he do go about, in which I wish him good speed. I made him almost foxed, the poor man having but a bad head, and not used I believe nowadays to drink much wine. So after dinner, they being gone, I to my office, and so home to bed. This day I hear the judges, according to order yesterday, did bring into the Lords’ House their reasons of their judgment in the business between my Lord Bristoll and the Chancellor; and the Lords do concur with the Judges that the articles are not treason, nor regularly brought into the House, and so voted that a Committee should be chosen to examine them; but nothing to be done therein till the next sitting of this Parliament (which is like to be adjourned in a day or two), and in the meantime the two Lords to, remain without prejudice done to either of them.
. Up and all the morning at the office, among other things with Cooper the Purveyor, whose dullness in his proceeding in his work I was vexed at, and find that though he understands it may be as much as other men that profess skill in timber, yet I perceive that many things, they do by rote, and very dully. Thence home to dinner, whither Captain Grove came and dined with me, he going into the country today; among other discourse he told me of discourse very much to my honour, both as to my care and ability, happening at the Duke of Albemarle’s table the other day, both from the Duke, and the Duchess themselves; and how I paid so much a year to him whose place it was of right, and that Mr. Coventry did report thus of me; which was greatly to my content, knowing how against their minds I was brought into the Navy. Thence by water to Westminster, and there spent a good deal of time walking in the Hall, which is going to be repaired, and, God forgive me, had a mind to have got Mrs. Lane abroad, or fallen in with any woman else (in that hot humour). But it so happened she could not go out, nor I meet with anybody else, and so I walked homeward, and in my way did many and great businesses of my own at the Temple among my lawyers and others to my great content, thanking God that I did not fall into any company to occasion spending time and money. To supper, and then to a little viol and to bed, sporting in my fancy with the Queen.
. Up and dispatched things into the country and to my father’s, and two kegs of Sturgeon and a dozen bottles of wine to Cambridge for my cousin Roger Pepys, which I give him. By and by down by water on several Dealel ships, and stood upon a stage in one place seeing caulkers sheathing of a ship. Then at Wapping to my carver’s about my Viol head. So home, and thence to my Viol maker’s in Bishopsgate Street; his name is Wise, who is a pretty fellow at it. Thence to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, and then to my office, where a full board, and busy all the afternoon, and among other things made a great contract with Sir W. Warren for 40,000 deals Swinsound, at £3 17s. 0d. per hundred. In the morning before I went on the water I was at Thames Street about some pitch, and there meeting Anthony Joyce, I took him and Mr. Stacy, the Tar merchant, to the tavern, where Stacy told me many old stories of my Lady Batten’s former poor condition, and how her former husband broke, and how she came to her state. At night, after office done, I went to Sir W. Batten’s, where my Lady and I [had] some high words about emptying our house of office, where I did tell her my mind, and at last agreed that it should be done through my office, and so all well. So home to bed.
. Up, and after doing some business at my office, Creed came to me, and I took him to my viol maker’s, and there I heard the famous Mr. Stefkins1870 play admirably well, and yet I found it as it is always, I over expected. I took him to the tavern and found him a temperate sober man, at least he seems so to me. I commit the direction of my viol to him. Thence to the ’Change, and so home, Creed and I to dinner, and after dinner Sir W. Warren came to me, and he and I in my closet about his last night’s contract, and from thence to discourse of measuring of timber, wherein I made him see that I could understand the matter well, and did both learn of and teach him something. Creed being gone through my staying talking to him so long, I went alone by water down to Redriffe, and so to sit and talk with Sir W. Penn, where I did speak very plainly concerning my thoughts of Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes. So as it may cost me some trouble if he should tell them again, but he said as much or more to me concerning them both, which I may remember if ever it should come forth, and nothing but what is true and my real opinion of them, that they neither do understand to this day Creed’s accounts, nor do deserve to be employed in their places without better care, but that the King had better give them greater salaries to stand still and do nothing. Thence coming home I was saluted by Bagwell and his wife (the woman I have a kindness for), and they would have me into their little house, which I was willing enough to, and did salute his wife. They had got wine for me, and I perceive live prettily, and I believe the woman a virtuous modest woman. Her husband walked through to Redriffe with me, telling me things that I asked of in the yard, and so by water home, it being likely to rain again tonight, which God forbid. To supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, and Sir J. Minnes and I did a little, and but a little business at the office. So I eat a bit of victuals at home, and so abroad to several places, as my bookseller’s, and then to Thomson the instrument maker’s to bespeak a ruler for my pocket for timber, etc., which I believe he will do to my mind. So to the Temple, Wardrobe, and lastly to Westminster Hall, where I expected some bands made me by Mrs. Lane, and while she went to the starchers for them, I stayed at Mrs. Howlett’s, who with her husband were abroad, and only their daughter (which I call my wife) was in the shop, and I took occasion to buy a pair of gloves to talk to her, and I find her a pretty spoken girl, and will prove a mighty handsome wench. I could love her very well. By and by Mrs. Lane comes, and my bands not being done she and I posted and met at the Crown in the Palace Yard, where we eat a chicken I sent for, and drank, and were mighty merry, and I had my full liberty of towzing her and doing what I would, but the last thing of all. … Of which I am heartily ashamed, but I do resolve never to do more so. But, Lord! to see what a mind she has to a husband, and how she showed me her hands to tell her her fortune, and everything that she asked ended always whom and when she was to marry. And I pleased her so well, saying as I know she would have me, and then she would say that she had been with all the artists in town, and they always told her the same things, as that she should live long, and rich, and have a good husband, but few children, and a great fit of sickness, and 20 other things, which she says she has always been told by others. Here I stayed late before my bands were done, and then they came, and so I by water to the Temple, and thence walked home, all in a sweat with my tumbling of her and walking, and so a little supper and to bed, fearful of having taken cold.
. Lay very long in pleasant dreams till Church time, and so up, and it being foul weather so that I cannot walk as I intended to meet my Cousin Roger at Thomas Pepys’s house (whither he rode last night), to Hatcham, I went to church, where a sober Doctor made a good sermon. So home to dinner alone, and then to read a little, and so to church again, where the Scot made an ordinary sermon, and so home to my office, and there read over my vows and increased them by a vow against all strong drink till November next of any sort or quantity, by which I shall try how I can forbear it. God send it may not prejudice my health, and then I care not. Then I fell to read over a silly play writ by a person of honour (which is, I find, as much as to say a coxcomb), called Love à la Mode,1871 and that being ended, home, and played on my lute and sung psalms till bedtime, then to prayers and to bed.
. Up and to my office, and then walked to Woolwich, reading Bacon’s Faber Fortunæ,1872 which the oftener I read the more I admire. There found Captain Cocke, and up and down to many places to look after matters, and so walked back again with him to his house, and there dined very finely. With much ado obtained an excuse from drinking of wine, and did only taste a drop of Sack which he had for his lady, who is, he fears, a little consumptive, and her beauty begins to want its colour. It was Malago Sack, which, he says, is certainly 30 years old, and I tasted a drop of it, and it was excellent wine, like a spirit rather than wine. Thence by water to the office, and taking some papers by water to Whitehall and St. James’s, but there being no meeting with the Duke today, I returned by water and down to Greenwich, to look after some blocks that I saw a load carried off by a cart from Woolwich, the King’s Yard. But I could not find them, and so returned, and being heartily weary I made haste to bed, and being in bed made Will read and construe three or four Latin verses in the Bible, and chide him for forgetting his grammar. So to sleep, and sleep ill all the night, being so weary, and feverish with it.
. And so lay long in the morning, till I heard people knock at my door, and I took it to be about 8 o’clock (but afterwards found myself a little mistaken), and so I rose and ranted at Will and the maid, and swore I could find my heart to kick them down stairs, which the maid mumbled at mightily. It was my brother, who stayed and talked with me, his chief business being about his going about to build his house new at the top, which will be a great charge for him, and above his judgment. By and by comes Mr. Deane, of Woolwich, with his draught of a ship, and the bend and main lines in the body of a ship very finely, and which do please me mightily, and so am resolved to study hard, and learn of him to understand a body, and I find him a very pretty fellow in it, and rational, but a little conceited, but that’s no matter to me. At noon, by my Lady Batten’s desire, I went over the water to Mr. Castle’s, who brings his wife home to his own house today, where I found a great many good old women, and my Lady, Sir W. Batten, and Sir J. Minnes. A good, handsome, plain dinner, and then walked in the garden; which is pleasant enough, more than I expected there, and so Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and I by water to the office, and there sat, and then I by water to the Temple about my law business, and back again home and wrote letters to my father and wife about my desire that they should observe the feast at Brampton, and have my Lady and the family, and so home to supper and bed, my head aching all the day from my last night’s bad rest, and yesterday’s distempering myself with over walking, and today knocking my head against a low door in Mr. Castle’s house. This day the Parliament kept a fast for the present unseasonable weather.
. Up, and by and by comes my uncle Thomas, to whom I paid £10 for his last half year’s annuity, and did get his and his son’s hand and seal for the confirming to us Piggott’s mortgage, which was forgot to be expressed in our late agreement with him, though intended, and therefore they might have cavilled at it, if they would. Thence abroad calling at several places upon some errands, among others to my brother Tom’s barber and had my hair cut, while his boy played on the violin, a plain boy, but has a very good genius, and understands the book very well, but to see what a shift he made for a string of red silk was very pleasant. Thence to my Lord Crew’s. My Lord not being come home, I met and stayed below with Captain Ferrers, who was come to wait upon my Lady Jemimah to St. James’s, she being one of the four ladies that hold up the mantle at the christening this afternoon of the Duke’s child (a boy). In discourse of the ladies at Court, Captain Ferrers tells me that my Lady Castlemaine is now as great again as ever she was; and that her going away was only a fit of her own upon some slighting words of the King, so that she called for her coach at a quarter of an hour’s warning, and went to Richmond; and the King the next morning, under pretence of going a-hunting, went to see her and make friends, and never was a-hunting at all. After which she came back to Court, and commands the King as much as ever, and hath and doth what she will. No longer ago than last night, there was a private entertainment made for the King and Queen at the Duke of Buckingham’s, and she was not invited: but being at my Lady Suffolk’s,1873 her aunt’s (where my Lady Jemimah and Lord Sandwich dined) yesterday, she was heard to say, “Well; much good may it do them, and for all that I will be as merry as they:” and so she went home and caused a great supper to be prepared. And after the King had been with the Queen at Wallingford House,1874 he came to my Lady Castlemaine’s, and was there all night, and my Lord Sandwich with him, which was the reason my Lord lay in town all night, which he has not done a great while before. He tells me he believes that, as soon as the King can get a husband for Mrs. Stewart however, my Lady Castlemaine’s nose will be out of joint; for that she comes to be in great esteem, and is more handsome than she. I found by his words that my Lord Sandwich finds some pleasure in the country where he now is, whether he means one of the daughters of the house or no I know not, but hope the contrary, that he thinks he is very well pleased with staying there, but yet upon breaking up of the Parliament, which the King by a message today says shall be on Monday next, he resolves to go. Ned Pickering, the coxcomb, notwithstanding all his hopes of my Lord’s assistance, wherein I am sorry to hear my Lord has much concerned himself, is defeated of the place he expected under the Queen. He came hither by and by and brought some jewels for my Lady Jem. to put on, with which and her other clothes she looks passing well. I stayed and dined with my Lord Crew, who whether he was not so well pleased with me as he used to be, or that his head was full of business, as I believe it was, he hardly spoke one word to me all dinner time, we dining alone, only young Jack Crew, Sir Thomas’s son, with us. After dinner I bade him farewell. Sir Thomas I hear has gone this morning ill to bed, so I had no mind to see him. Thence homewards, and in the way first called at Wotton’s, the shoemaker’s, who tells me the reason of Harris’s1875 going from Sir Wm. Davenant’s house, that he grew very proud and demanded £20 for himself extraordinary, more than Betterton or anybody else, upon every new play, and £10 upon every revive; which with other things Sir W. Davenant would not give him, and so he swore he would never act there more, in expectation of being received in the other House; but the King will not suffer it, upon Sir W. Davenant’s desire that he would not, for then he might shut up house, and that is true. He tells me that his going is at present a great loss to the House, and that he fears he hath a stipend from the other House privately. He tells the that the fellow grew very proud of late, the King and everybody else crying him up so high, and that above Betterton, he being a more ayery man, as he is indeed. But yet Betterton, he says, they all say do act: some parts that none but himself can do. Thence to my bookseller’s, and found my Waggoners done. The very binding cost me 14s., but they are well done, and so with a porter home with them, and so by water to Ratcliff, and there went to speak with Cumberford the plat-maker, and there saw his manner of working, which is very fine and laborious. So down to Deptford, reading Ben Jonson’s Devil Is an Asse,1876 and so to see Sir W. Penn, who I find walking out of doors a little, but could not stand long; but in doors and I with him, and stayed a great while talking, I taking a liberty to tell him my thoughts in things of the office; that when he comes abroad again, he may know what to think of me, and to value me as he ought. Walked home as I used to do, and being weary, and after some discourse with Mr. Barrow, who came to see and take his leave of me, he being tomorrow to set out toward the Isle of Man, I went to bed. This day I hear that the Moores have made some attacks upon the outworks of Tangier; but my Lord Tiviott; with the loss of about 200 men, did beat them off, and killed many of them. Tomorrow the King and Queen for certain go down to Tunbridge. But the King comes hack again against Monday to raise the Parliament.
. Up and to my office, and thence by information from Mr. Ackworth I went down to Woolwich, and mustered the three East India ships that lie there, believing that there is great-juggling between the Pursers and Clerks of the Cheque in cheating the King of the wages and victuals of men that do not give attendance, and I found very few on board. So to the yard, and there mustered the yard, and found many faults, and discharged several fellows that were absent from their business. I stayed also at Mr. Ackworth’s desire at dinner with him and his wife, and there was a simple fellow, a gentleman I believe of the Court, their kinsmen, that threatened me I could have little discourse or begin, acquaintance with Ackworth’s wife, and so after dinner away, with all haste home, and there found Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten at the office, and by Sir W. Batten’s testimony and Sir G. Carteret’s concurrence was forced to consent to a business of Captain Cocke’s timber, as bad as anything we have lately disputed about, and all through Mr. Coventry’s not being with us. So up and to supper with Sir W. Batten upon a soused mullet, very good meat, and so home and to bed.
. Up pretty early (though of late I have been faulty by an hour or two every morning of what I should do) and by water to the Temple, and there took leave of my cousin Roger Pepys, who goes out of town today. So to Westminster Hall, and there at Mrs. Michell’s shop sent for beer and sugar and drink, and made great cheer with it among her and Mrs. Howlett, her neighbour, and their daughters, especially Mrs. Howlett’s daughter, Betty, which is a pretty girl, and one I have long called wife, being, I formerly thought, like my own wife. After this good neighbourhood, which I do to give them occasion of speaking well and commending me in some company that now and then I know comes to their shop, I went to the Six clerks’ office,1877 and there had a writ for Tom Trice, and paid 20s. for it to Wilkinson, and so up and down to many places, among others to the viol maker’s, and there saw the head, which now pleases me mightily, and so home, and being sent for presently to Mr. Bland’s, where Mr. Povy and Gauden and I were invited to dinner, which we had very finely and great plenty, but for drink, though many and good, I drank nothing but small beer and water, which I drank so much that I wish it may not do me hurt. They had a kinswoman, they call daughter, in the house, a short, ugly, red-haired slut, that plays upon the virginalls, and sings, but after such a country manner I was weary of it, but yet could not but commend it. So by and by after dinner comes Monsr. Gotier, who is beginning to teach her, but, Lord! what a droll fellow it is to make her hold open her mouth, and telling this and that so drolly would make a man burst, but himself I perceive sings very well. Anon we sat down again to a collacon of cheesecakes, tarts, custards, and suchlike, very handsome, and so up and away home, where I at the office a while, till disturbed by Mr. Hill, of Cambridge, with whom I walked in the garden a while, and thence home and then in my dining room walked, talking of several matters of state till 11 at night, giving him a glass of wine. I was not unwilling to hear him talk, though he is full of words, yet a man of large conversation, especially among the Presbyters and Independents; he tells me that certainly, let the Bishops alone, and they will ruin themselves, and he is confident that the King’s declaration about two years since will be the foundation of the settlement of the Church some time or other, for the King will find it hard to banish all those that will appear Nonconformists upon this Act that is coming out against them. He being gone, I to bed.
. Up and to my office setting papers in order for these two or three days, in which I have been hindered a little, and then having intended this day to go to Banstead Downs to see a famous race, I sent Will to get himself ready to go with me, and I also by and by home and put on my riding suit, and being ready came to the office to Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, and did a little of course at the office this morning, and so by boat to Whitehall, where I hear that the race is put off, because the Lords do sit in Parliament today.1878 However, having appointed Mr. Creed to come to me to Fox Hall,1879 I went over thither, and after some debate, Creed and I resolved to go to Clapham, to Mr. Gauden’s,1880 who had sent his coach to their place for me because I was to have my horse of him to go to the race. So I went thither by coach and my Will by horse with me; Mr. Creed he went over back again to Westminster to fetch his horse. When I came to Mr. Gauden’s one first thing was to show me his house, which is almost built, wherein he and his family live. I find it very regular and finely contrived, and the gardens and offices about it as convenient and as full of good variety as ever I saw in my life. It is true he hath been censured for laying out so much money; but he tells me that he built it for his brother, who is since dead (the Bishop),1881 who when he should come to be Bishop of Winchester, which he was promised (to which bishoprick at present there is no house), he did intend to dwell here.1882 Besides, with the good husbandry in making his bricks and other things I do not think it costs him so much money as people think and discourse. By and by to dinner, and in comes Mr. Creed. I saluted Mr. Gauden’s lady, and the young ladies, he having many pretty children, and his sister, the Bishop’s widow; who was, it seems, Sir W. Russel’s1883 daughter, the Treasurer of the Navy; who by her discourse at dinner I find to be very well-bred, and a woman of excellent discourse, even so much as to have my attention all dinner with much more pleasure than I did give to Mr. Creed, whose discourse was mighty merry in inveighing at Mr. Gauden’s victuals that they had at sea the last voyage that he prosecuted, till methought the woman began to take it seriously. After dinner by Mr. Gauden’s motion we got Mrs. Gauden and her sister to sing to a viol, on which Mr. Gauden’s eldest son (a pretty man, but a simple one methinks) played but very poorly, and the music bad, but yet I commended it. Only I do find that the ladies have been taught to sing and do sing well now, but that the viol puts them out. I took the viol and played some things from one of their books, Lyra Lessons, which they seemed to like well. Thus we pass an hour or two after dinner and towards the evening we bade them Adieu! and took horse; being resolved that, instead of the race which fails us, we would go to Epsum. So we set out, and being gone a little way I sent home Will to look to the house, and Creed and I rode forward; the road being full of citizens going and coming toward Epsum, where, when we came, we could hear of no lodging, the town so full; but which was better, I went towards Ashted,1884 my old place of pleasure; and there by direction of one goodman Arthur, whom we met on the way, we went to Farmer Page’s, at which direction he and I made good sport, and there we got a lodging in a little hole we could not stand upright in, but rather than go further to look we stayed there, and while supper was getting ready I took him to walk up and down behind my cousin Pepys’s house that was, which I find comes little short of what I took it to be when I was a little boy, as things use commonly to appear greater than then when one comes to be a man and knows more, and so up and down in the closes, which I know so well methinks, and account it good fortune that I lie here that I may have opportunity to renew my old walks. It seems there is one Mr. Rouse, they call him the Queen’s Tailor, that lives there now. So to our lodging to supper, and among other meats had a brave dish of cream, the best I ever eat in my life, and with which we pleased ourselves much, and by and by to bed, where, with much ado yet good sport, we made shift to lie, but with little ease, and a little spaniel by us, which has followed us all the way, a pretty dog, and we believe that follows my horse, and do belong to Mrs. Gauden, which we, therefore, are very careful of.
. Up and to the Wells,1885 where great store of citizens, which was the greatest part of the company, though there were some others of better quality. I met many that I knew, and we drank each of us two pots and so walked away, it being very pleasant to see how everybody turns up his tail, here one and there another, in a bush, and the women in their quarters the like. Thence I walked with Creed to Mr. Minnes’s house, which has now a very good way made to it, and thence to Durdans and walked round it and within the Court Yard and to the Bowling-green, where I have seen so much mirth in my time; but now no family in it (my Lord Barkeley, whose it is, being with his family at London), and so up and down by Minnes’s wood, with great pleasure viewing my old walks, and where Mrs. Hely and I did use to walk and talk, with whom I had the first sentiments of love and pleasure in woman’s company, discourse, and taking her by the hand, she being a pretty woman. So I led him to Ashted Church (by the place where Peter, my cousin’s man, went blindfold and found a certain place we chose for him upon a wager), where we had a dull Doctor, one Downe, worse than I think even parson King was, of whom we made so much scorn, and after sermon home, and stayed while our dinner, a couple of large chickens, were dressed, and a good mess of cream, which anon we had with good content, and after dinner (we taking no notice of other lodgers in the house, though there was one that I knew, and knew and spoke to me, one Mr. Rider, a merchant), he and I to walk, and I led him to the pretty little wood behind my cousin’s house, into which we got at last by clambering, and our little dog with us, but when we were among the hazel trees and bushes, Lord! what a course did we run for an hour together, losing ourselves, and indeed I despaired I should ever come to any path, but still from thicket to thicket, a thing I could hardly have believed a man could have been lost so long in so small a room. At last I found out a delicate walk in the middle that goes quite through the wood, and then went out of the wood, and holloed Mr. Creed, and made him hunt me from place to place, and at last went in and called him into my fine walk, the little dog still hunting with us through the wood. In this walk being all bewildered and weary and sweating, Creed he lay down upon the ground, which I did a little, but I durst not long, but walked from him in the fine green walk, which is half a mile long, there reading my vows as I used to on Sundays. And after that was done, and going and lying by Creed an hour, he and I rose and went to our lodging and paid our reckoning, and so mounted, whether to go toward London home or to find a new lodging, and so rode through Epsum, the whole town over, seeing the various companies that were there walking; which was very pleasant to see how they are there without knowing almost what to do, but only in the morning to drink waters. But, Lord! to see how many I met there of citizens, that I could not have thought to have seen there, or that they had ever had it in their heads or purses to go down thither. We rode out of the town through Yowell1886 beyond Nonesuch House1887 a mile, and there our little dog, as he used to do, fell a-running after a flock of sheep feeding on the common, till he was out of sight, and then endeavoured to come back again, and went to the last gate that he parted with us at, and there the poor thing mistakes our scent, instead of coming forward he hunts us backward, and runs as hard as he could drive back towards Nonesuch, Creed and I after him, and being by many told of his going that way and the haste he made, we rode still and passed him through Yowell, and there we lost any further information of him. However, we went as far as Epsum almost, hearing nothing of him, we went back to Yowell, and there was told that he did pass through the town. We rode back to Nonesuch to see whether he might be gone back again, but hearing nothing we with great trouble and discontent for the loss of our dog came back once more to Yowell, and there set up our horses and selves for all night, employing people to look for the dog in the town, but can hear nothing of him. However, we gave order for supper, and while that was dressing walked out through Nonesuch Park to the house, and there viewed as much as we could of the outside, and looked through the great gates, and found a noble court; and altogether believe it to have been a very noble house, and a delicate park about it, where just now there was a doe killed, for the King to carry up to Court. So walked back again, and by and by our supper being ready, a good leg of mutton boiled, we supped and to bed, upon two beds in the same room, wherein we slept most excellently all night.
. Up in the morning about 7 o’clock, and after a little study, resolved of riding to the Wells to look for our dog, which we did, but could hear nothing; but it being much a warmer day than yesterday there was great store of gallant company, more than then, to my greater pleasure. There was at a distance, under one of the trees on the common, a company got together that sung. I, at the distance, and so all the rest being a quarter of a mile off, took them for the Waytes, so I rode up to them, and found them only voices, some citizens met by chance, that sung four or five parts excellently. I have not been more pleased with a snapp of music, considering the circumstances of the time and place, in all my life anything so pleasant. We drank each of us, three cups, and so, after riding up to the horsemen upon the hill, where they were making of matches to run, we went away and to Yowell, where we found our breakfast, the remains of our supper last night hashed, and by and by, after the smith had set on two new shoes to Creed’s horse, we mounted, and with little discourse, I being intent upon getting home in time, we rode hard home, observing Mr. Gauden’s house, but not calling there (it being too late for me to stay, and wanting their dog too). The house stands very finely, and has a graceful view to the highway. Set up our horses at Fox Hall, and I by water (observing the King’s barge attending his going to the House this day) home, it being about one o’clock. So got myself ready and shifting myself, and so by water to Westminster, and there came most luckily to the Lords’ House as the House of Commons were going into the Lord’s House, and there I crowded in along with the Speaker, and got to stand close behind him, where he made his speech to the King (who sat with his crown on and robes, and so all the Lords in their robes, a fine sight); wherein he told his Majesty what they have done this Parliament, and now offered for his royal consent. The greatest matters were a bill for the Lord’s day (which it seems the Lords have lost, and so cannot be passed, at which the Commons are displeased); the bills against Conventicles and Papists (but it seems the Lords have not passed them), and giving his Majesty four entire subsidies; which last, with about twenty smaller Acts, were passed with this form: The Clerk of the House reads the title of the bill, and then looks at the end and there finds (writ by the King I suppose) “Le Roy le veult,” and that he reads. And to others he reads, “Soit fait comme vous desirez.” And to the Subsidies, as well that for the Commons, I mean the layety, as for the Clergy, the King writes, “Le Roy remerciant les Seigneurs, etc., Prelats, etc., accepte leur benevolences.” The Speaker’s1888 speech was far from any oratory, but was as plain (though good matter) as anything could be, and void of elocution. After the bills passed, the King, sitting on his throne, with his speech writ in a paper which he held in his lap, and scarce looked off of it, I thought, all the time he made his speech to them, giving them thanks for their subsidies, of which, had he not need, he would not have asked or received them; and that need, not from any extravagancies of his, he was sure, in anything, but the disorders of the times compelling him to be at greater charge than he hoped for the future, by their care in their country, he should be: and that for his family expenses and others, he would labour however to retrench in many things convenient, and would have all others to do so too. He desired that nothing of old faults should be remembered, or severity for the same used to any in the country, it being his desire to have all forgot as well as forgiven. But, however, to use all care in suppressing any tumults, etc.; assuring them that the restless spirits of his and their adversaries have great expectations of something to be done this summer. And promised that though the Acts about Conventicles and Papists were not ripe for passing this Session, yet he would take care himself that neither of them should in this intervall be encouraged to the endangering of the peace; and that at their next meeting he would himself prepare two bills for them concerning them. So he concluded, that for the better proceeding of justice he did think fit to make this a Session, and to prorogue them to the 16th of March next. His speech was very plain, nothing at all of spirit in it, nor spoke with any; but rather on the contrary imperfectly, repeating many times his words though he read all which I was sorry to see, it having not been hard for him to have got all the speech without book. So they all went away, the King out of the House at the upper end, he being by and by to go to Tunbridge to the Queen; and I in the Painted Chamber spoke with my Lord Sandwich while he was putting off his robes, who tells me he will now hasten down into the country, as soon as he can get some money settled on the Wardrobe. Here meeting Creed, he and I down to the Hall, and I having at Michell’s shop wrote a little letter to Mr. Gauden, to go with his horse, and excusing my not taking leave or so much as asking after the old lady the widow when we came away the other day from them, he and I over the water to Fox Hall, and there sent away the horse with my letter, and then to the new Spring Garden, walking up and down, but things being dear and little attendance to be had we went away, leaving much brave company there, and so to a less house hard by, where we liked very well their Codlin tarts, having not time, as we intended, to stay the getting ready of a dish of peas. And there came to us an idle boy to show us some tumbling tricks, which he did very well, and the greatest bending of his body that ever I observed in my life. Thence by water to Whitehall, and walked over the Park to St. James’s; but missed Mr. Coventry, he not being within; and so out again, and there the Duke was coming along the Pell-Mell. It being a little darkish, I stayed not to take notice of him, but we went directly back again. And in our walk over the Park, one of the Duke’s footmen came running behind us, and came looking just in our faces to see who we were, and went back again. What his meaning is I know not, but was fearful that I might not go far enough with my hat off, though methinks that should not be it, besides, there were others covered nearer than myself was, but only it was my fear. So to Whitehall and by water to the Bridge, and so home to bed, weary and well pleased with my journey in all respects. Only it cost me about 20s., but it was for my health, and I hope will prove so, only I do find by my riding a little swelling to rise just by my anus. I had the same the last time I rode, and then it fell again, and now it is up again about the bigness of the bag of a silkworm, makes me fearful of a rupture. But I will speak to Mr. Hollyard about it, and I am glad to find it now, that I may prevent it before it goes too far.
. Up after sleeping very well, and so to my office setting down the Journal of this last three days, and so settled to business again, I hope with greater cheerfulness and success by this refreshment. At the office all the morning, and at noon to Wise’s about my viol that is a-doing, and so home to dinner and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon till night, and I late at it till after the office was risen. Late came my Jane and her brother Will to entreat for my taking of the boy again, but I will not hear her, though I would yet be glad to do anything for her sake to the boy, but receive him again I will not, nor give him anything. She would have me send him to sea; which if I could I would do, but there is no ship going out. The poor girl cried all the time she was with me, and would not go from me, staying about two hours with me till 10 or 11 o’clock, expecting that she might obtain something of me, but receive him I will not. So the poor girl was fain to go away crying and saying little. So from thence home, where my house of office was emptying, and I find they will do it with much more cleanness than I expected. I went up and down among them a good while, but knowing that Mr. Coventry was to call me in the morning, I went to bed and left them to look after the people. So to bed.
. Up about 6 o’clock, and found the people to have just done, and Hannah not gone to bed yet, but was making clean of the yard and kitchen. Will newly gone to bed. So I to my office, and having given some order to Tom Hater, to whom I gave leave for his recreation to go down to Portsmouth this Pay, I went down to Wapping to Sir W. Warren, and there stayed an hour or two discoursing of some of his goods and then things in general relating to this office, etc., and so home, and there going to Sir William Batten (having no stomach to dine at home, it being yet hardly clean of last night’s [mess]) and there I dined with my Lady and her daughter and son Castle,1889 and mighty kind she is and I kind to her, but, Lord! how freely and plainly she rails against Commissioner Pett, calling him rogue, and wondering that the King keeps such a fellow in the Navy. Thence by and by walked to see Sir W. Penn at Deptford, reading by the way a most ridiculous play, a new one, called The Politician Cheated.1890 After a little sitting with him I walked to the yard a little and so home again, my Will with me, whom I bade to stay in the yard for me, and so to bed. This morning my brother Tom was with me, and we had some discourse again concerning his country mistress, but I believe the most that is fit for us to condescend to, will not content her friends.
. Up and to the office to get business ready for our sitting, this being the first day of altering it from afternoon during the Parliament sitting to the forenoon again. By and by Mr. Coventry only came (Sir John Minnes and Sir William Batten being gone this morning to Portsmouth to pay some ships and the yard there), and after doing a little business he and I down to Woolwich, and there up and down the yard, and by and by came Sir G. Carteret and we all looked into matters, and then by water back to Deptford, where we dined with him at his house, a very good dinner and mightily tempted with wines of all sorts and brave French Syder, but I drunk none. But that which is a great wonder I find his little daughter Betty,1891 that was in hanging sleeves but a month or two ago, and is a very little young child; married, and to whom, but to young Scott,1892 son to Madam Catharine Scott,1893 that was so long in law, and at whose triall I was with her husband; he pleading that it was unlawfuly got and would not own it, she, it seems, being brought to bed of it, if not got by somebody else at Oxford, but it seems a little before his death he did own the child, and hath left him his estate, not long since. So Sir G. Carteret hath struck up of a sudden a match with him for his little daughter. He hath about £2,000 per annum; and it seems Sir G. Carteret hath by this means overreached Sir H. Bennet, who did endeavour to get this gentleman for a sister of his, but Sir G. Carteret I say has overreached him. By this means Sir G. Carteret hath married two daughters this year both very well.1894 After dinner into Deptford yard, but our bellies being full we could do no great business, and so parted, and Mr. Coventry and I to Whitehall by water, where we also parted, and I to several places about business, and so calling for my five books of the Variorum print bound according to my common binding instead of the other which is more gaudy I went home. The town talk this day is of nothing but the great footrace run this day on Banstead Downs, between Lee, the Duke of Richmond’s footman, and a tyler, a famous runner. And Lee hath beat him; though the King and Duke of York and all men almost did bet three or four to one upon the tyler’s head.
. Up early to my accounts this month, and I find myself worth clear £730, the most I ever had yet, which contents me though I increase but very little. Thence to my office doing business, and at noon to my viol maker’s, who has begun it and has a good appearance, and so to the Exchange, where I met Dr. Pierce, who tells me of his good luck to get to be groom of the Privy-Chamber to the Queen, and without my Lord Sandwich’s help; but only by his good fortune, meeting a man that hath let him have his right for a small matter, about £60, for which he can every day have £400. But he tells me my Lord hath lost much honour in standing so long and so much for that coxcomb Pickering, and at last not carrying it for him; but hath his name struck out by the King and Queen themselves after he had been in ever since the Queen’s coming. But he tells me he believes that either Sir H. Bennet, my Lady Castlemaine, or Sir Charles Barkeley had received some money for the place, and so the King could not disappoint them, but was forced to put out this fool rather than a better man. And I am sorry to hear what he tells me that Sir Charles Barkeley hath still such power over the King, as to be able to fetch him from the Council-table to my Lady Castlemaine when he pleases. He tells me also, as a friend, the great injury that he thinks I do myself by being so severe in the Yards, and contracting the ill-will of the whole Navy for those offices, singly upon myself. Now I discharge a good conscience therein, and I tell him that no man can (nor do he say any say it) charge me with doing wrong; but rather do as many good offices as any man. They think, he says, that I have a mind to get a good name with the King and Duke, who he tells me do not consider any such thing; but I shall have as good thanks to let all alone, and do as the rest. But I believe the contrary; and yet I told him I never go to the Duke alone, as others do, to talk of my own services. However, I will make use of his council, and take some course to prevent having the single ill-will of the office. Before I went to the office I went to the Coffee House, where Sir J. Cutler and Mr. Grant were, and there Mr. Grant showed me letters of Sir William Petty’s, wherein he says, that his vessel which he hath built upon two keeles1895 (a modell whereof, built for the King, he showed me) hath this month won a wager of £50 in sailing between Dublin and Holyhead with the packet-boat, the best ship or vessel the King hath there; and he offers to lay with any vessel in the world. It is about thirty ton in burden, and carries thirty men, with good accommodation (as much more as any ship of her burden), and so any vessel of this figure shall carry more men, with better accommodation by half, than any other ship. This carries also ten guns, of about five tons weight. In their coming back from Holyhead they started together, and this vessel came to Dublin by five at night, and the packet-boat not before eight the next morning; and when they came they did believe that, this vessel had been drowned, or at least behind, not thinking she could have lived in that sea. Strange things are told of this vessel, and he concludes his letter with this position, “I only affirm that the perfection of sailing lies in my principle, finde it out who can.” Thence home, in my way meeting Mr. Rawlinson, who tells me that my uncle Wight is off of his Hampshire purchase and likes less of the Wights, and would have me to be kind and study to please him, which I am resolved to do. Being at home he sent for me to dinner to meet Mr. Moore, so I went thither and dined well, but it was strange for me to refuse, and yet I did without any reluctancy to drink wine in a tavern, where nothing else almost was drunk, and that excellent good. Thence with Mr. Moore to the Wardrobe, and there sat while my Lord was private with Mr. Townsend about his accounts an hour or two, we reading of a merry book against the Presbyters called Cabbala,1896 extraordinary witty. Thence walked home and to my office, setting papers of all sorts and writing letters and putting myself into a condition to go to Chatham with Mr. Coventry tomorrow. So, at almost 12 o’clock, and my eyes tired with seeing to write, I went home and to bed. Ending the month with pretty good content of mind, my wife in the country and myself in good esteem, and likely by pains to become considerable, I think, with God’s blessing upon my diligence.
August 1663
. Up betimes and got me ready, and so to the office and put things in order for my going. By and by comes Sir G. Carteret, and he and I did some business, and then Mr. Coventry sending for me, he staying in the boat, I got myself presently ready and down to him, he and I by water to Gravesend (his man Lambert with us), and there eat a bit and so mounted, I upon one of his horses which met him there, a brave proud horse, all the way talking of businesses of the office and other matters to good purpose. Being come to Chatham, we put on our boots and so walked to the yard, where we met Commissioner Pett, and there walked up and down looking and inquiring into many businesses, and in the evening went to the Commissioner’s and there in his upper Arbor sat and talked, and there pressed upon the Commissioner to take upon him a power to correct and suspend officers that do not their duty and other things, which he unwillingly answered he would if we would own him in it. Being gone thence Mr. Coventry and I did discourse about him, and conclude that he is not able to do the same in that yard that he might and can and it maybe will do in another, what with his old faults and the relations that he has to most people that act there. After an hour or two’s discourse at the Hill-house before going to bed, I see him to his and he me to my chamber, he lying in the Treasurer’s and I in the Controller’s chambers.
. Up and after the barber had done he and I walked to the Docke, and so on board the Mathias,1897 where Commissioner Pett and he and I and a good many of the officers and others of the yard did hear an excellent sermon of Mr. Hudson’s upon “All is yours and you are God’s,” a most ready, learned, and good sermon, such as I have not heard a good while, nor ever thought he could have preached. We took him with us to the Hill-house, and there we dined, and an officer or two with us. So after dinner the company withdrew, and we three to private discourse and laid the matters of the yard home again to the Commissioner, and discoursed largely of several matters. Then to the parish church, and there heard a poor sermon with a great deal of false Greek in it, upon these words, “Ye are my friends, if ye do these things which I command you.” Thence to the Docke and by water to view St. Mary Creeke, but do not find it so proper for a wet docks as we would have it, it being uneven ground and hard in the bottom and no great depth of water in many places. Returned and walked from the Docke home, Mr. Coventry and I very much troubled to see how backward Commissioner Pett is to tell any of the faults of the officers, and to see nothing in better condition here for his being here than they are in other yards where there is none. After some discourse to bed. But I sat up an hour after Mr. Coventry was gone to read my vows, it raining a wonderful hard shower about 11 at night for an hour together. So to bed.
. Up both of us very betimes and to the Yard, and see the men called over and choose some to be discharged. Then to the Ropehouses and viewed them all and made an experiment which was the stronger, English or Riga hemp, the latter proved the stronger, but the other is very good, and much better we believe than any but Riga. We did many other things this morning, and I caused the Timber measurer to measure some timber, where I found much fault and with reason, which we took public notice of, and did give them admonition for the time to come. At noon Mr. Pett did give us a very great dinner, too big in all conscience, so that most of it was left untouched. Here was Colonel Newman and several other gentlemen of the country and officers of the yard. After dinner they withdrew and Commissioner Pett, Mr. Coventry and I sat close to our business all the noon in his parlor, and there run through much business and answered several people. And then in the evening walked in the garden, where we conjured him to look after the yard, and for the time to come that he would take the whole faults and ill management of the yard upon himself, he having full power and our concurrence to suspend or do anything else that he thinks fit to keep people and officers to their duty. He having made good promises, though I fear his performance, we parted (though I spoke so freely that he could have been angry) good friends, and in some hopes that matters will be better for the time to come. So walked to the Hillhouse (which we did view and the yard about it, and do think to put it off as soon as we can conveniently) and there made ourselves ready and mounted and rode to Gravesend (my riding coat not being to be found I fear it is stole) on our way being overtaken by Captain Browne that serves the office of the Ordnance at Chatham. All the way, though he was a rogue and served the late times all along, yet he kept us in discourse of the many services that he did for many of the King’s party, lords and Dukes, and among others he recovered a dog that was stolen from Mr. Cary (head-keeper of the buck-hounds to the King) and preserved several horses of the Duke of Richmond’s, and his best horse he was forst to put out his eyes and keep him for a stallion to preserve him from being carried away. But he gone at last upon my enquiry to tell us how (he having been here too for survey of the Ropeyard) the day’s work of the Rope-makers become settled, which pleased me very well. Being come to our Inn Mr. Coventry and I sat, and talked till 9 or 10 a-clock and then to bed.
. We were called up about four a-clock, and being ready went and took a Gravesend boat, and to London by nine a-clock. By the way talking of several businesses of the navy. So to the office, where Sir Wm. Penn (the first time that he has been with us a great while, he having been long sick) met us, and there we sat all the morning. My brother John I find come to town to my house, as I sent for him, on Saturday last; so at noon home and dined with him, and after dinner and the barber been with me I walked out with him to my viol maker’s and other places and then left him, and I by water to Blackbury’s, and there talked with him about some masts (and by the way he tells me that Paul’s1898 is now going to be repaired in good earnest), and so with him to his garden close by his house, where I eat some peaches and apricots; a very pretty place. So over the water to Westminster hall, and not finding Mrs. Lane, with whom I purposed to be merry, I went to Jervas’s and took him and his wife over the water to their mother Palmer’s (the woman that speaks in the belly, and with whom I have two or three years ago made good sport with Mr. Mallard), thinking because I had heard that she is a woman of that sort that I might there have lit upon some lady of pleasure (for which God forgive me), but blest be God there was none, nor anything that pleased me, but a poor little house that she has set out as fine as she can, and for her singing which she pretends to is only some old body songs and those sung abominably, only she pretends to be able to sing both bass and treble, which she do something like, but not what I thought formerly and expected now; nor do her speaking in her belly take me now as it did then, but it may be that is because I know it and see her mouth when she speaks, which should not be. After I had spent a shilling there in wine I took boat with Jervas and his wife and set them at Westminster, and it being late forbore Mrs. Lane and went by water to the Old Swan by a boat, where I had good sport with one of the young men about his travells as far as Voxhall, in mockery, which yet the fellow answered me most prettily and traveller-like unto my very good mirth. So home, and with my brother eat a bit of bread and cheese, and so to bed, he with me. This day I received a letter from my wife, which troubles me mightily, wherein she tells me how Ashwell did give her the lie to her teeth, and that thereupon my wife giving her a box on the ear, the other struck her again, and a deal of stir which troubles me, and that my Lady has been told by my father or mother something of my wife’s carriage, which altogether vexes me, and I fear I shall find a trouble of my wife when she comes home to get down her head again, but if Ashwell goes I am resolved to have no more, but to live poorly and low again for a good while, and save money and keep my wife within bounds if I can, or else I shall bid Adieu to all content in the world. So to bed, my mind somewhat disturbed at this, but yet I shall take care, by prudence, to avoid the ill consequences which I fear, things not being gone too far yet, and this height that my wife is come to being occasioned from my own folly in giving her too much head heretofore for the year past.
. All the morning at the office, whither Deane of Woolwich came to me and discoursed of the body of ships, which I am now going about to understand, and then I took him to the coffeehouse, where he was very earnest against Mr. Grant’s report in favour of Sir W. Petty’s vessel,1899 even to some passion on both sides almost. So to the Exchange, and thence home to dinner with my brother, and in the afternoon to Westminster hall, and there found Mrs. Lane, and by and by by agreement we met at the Parliament stairs (in my way down to the boat who should meet us but my lady Jemimah, who saw me lead her but said nothing to me of her, though I ought to speak to her to see whether she would take notice of it or no) and off to Stangate and so to the King’s Head at Lambeth marsh, and had variety of meats and drinks, but I did so touse her and handled her, but could get nothing more from her though I was very near it; but as wanton and bucksome as she is she dares not adventure upon the business, in which I very much commend and like her. Stayed pretty late, and so over with her by water, and being in a great sweat with my tousing of her durst not go home by water, but took coach, and at home my brother and I fell upon Des Cartes, and I perceive he has studied him well, and I cannot find but he has minded his book, and do love it. This evening came a letter about business from Mr. Coventry, and with it a silver pen he promised me to carry inke in, which is very necessary. So to prayers and to bed.
. Up and was angry with my maid Hannah for keeping the house no better, it being more dirty nowadays than ever it was while my whole family was together. So to my office, whither Mr. Coventry came and Sir William Penn, and we sat all the morning. This day Mr. Coventry borrowed of me my manuscript of the Navy. At noon I to the ’Change, and meeting with Sir W. Warren, to a coffeehouse, and there finished a contract with him for the office, and so parted, and I to my cousin Mary Joyce’s1900 at a gossiping, where much company and good cheer. There was the King’s Falconer, that lives by Paul’s, and his wife, an ugly pusse, but brought him money. He speaking of the strength of hawkes, which will strike a fowle to the ground with that force that shall make the fowle rebound a great way from ground, which no force of man or art can do, but it was very pleasant to hear what reasons he and another, one Ballard, a rich man of the same Company of Leathersellers of which the Joyces are, did give for this. Ballard’s wife, a pretty and a very well-bred woman, I took occasion to kiss several times, and she to carve, drink, and show me great respect. After dinner to talk and laugh. I drank no wine, but sent for some water; the beer not being good. A fiddler was sent for, and there one Mrs. Lurkin, a neighbour, a good, and merry poor woman, but a very tall woman, did dance and show such tricks that made us all merry, but above all a daughter of Mr. Brumfield’s, black, but well-shaped and modest, did dance very well, which pleased me mightily. I begun the Duchess with her, but could not do it; but, however, I came off well enough, and made mighty much of her, kissing and leading her home, with her cousin Anthony and Kate Joyce (Kate being very handsome and well, that is, handsomely dressed today, and I grew mighty kind and familiar with her, and kissed her soundly, which she takes very well) to their house, and there I left them, having in our way, though nine o’clock at night, carried them into a puppet play in Lincolnes Inn Fields, where there was the story of Holofernes, and other clockwork, well done. There was at this house today Mr. Lawrence, who did give the name, it seems, to my cousin Joyce’s child, Samuel, who is a very civil gentleman, and his wife a pretty woman, who, with Kate Joyce, were stewards of the feast today, and a double share cost for a man and a woman came to 16s., which I also would pay, though they would not by any means have had me do so. I walked home very well contented with this afternoon’s work, I thinking it convenient to keep in with the Joyces against a bad day, if I should have occasion to make use of them. So I walked home, and after a letter to my wife by the post and my father, I home to supper, and after a little talk with my brother to bed.
. Up and to my office a little, and then to Brown’s for my measuring rule, which is made, and is certainly the best and the most commodious for carrying in one’s pocket, and most useful that ever was made, and myself have the honour of being as it were the inventor of this form of it. Here I stayed discoursing an hour with him and then home, and thither came Sir Fairbrother to me, and we walked a while together in the garden and then abroad into the cittie, and then we parted for a while and I to my Viol, which I find done and once varnished, and it will please me very well when it is quite varnished. Thence home and to study my new rule till my head ached cruelly. So by and by to dinner and the Doctor and Mr. Creed came to me. The Doctor’s discourse, which (though he be a very good-natured man) is but simple, was some sport to me and Creed, though my head aching I took no great pleasure in it. We parted after dinner, and I walked to Deptford and there found Sir W. Penn, and I fell to measuring of some planks that was serving into the yard, which the people took notice of, and the measurer himself was amused at, for I did it much more ready than he, and I believe Sir W. Penn would be glad I could have done less or he more. By and by he went away and I stayed walking up and down, discoursing with the officers of the yard of several things, and so walked back again, and on my way young Bagwell and his wife waylayd me to desire my favour about getting him a better ship, which I shall pretend to be willing to do for them, but my mind is to know his wife a little better. They being parted I went with Cadbury the mast maker to view a parcel of good masts which I think it were good to buy, and resolve to speak to the board about it. So home, and my brother John and I up and I to my music, and then to discourse with him, and I find him not so thorough a philosopher, at least in Aristotle, as I took him for, he not being able to tell me the definition of final nor which of the 4 Qualities belonged to each of the 4 Elements. So to prayers, and to bed, among other things being much satisfied with my new rule.
. Up and to my office, whither I search for Brown the mathematical instrument maker, who now brought me a ruler for measuring timber and other things so well done and in all things to my mind that I do set up my trust upon it that I cannot have a better, nor any man else have so good for this purpose, this being of my own ordering. By and by we sat all the morning dispatching of business, and then at noon rose, and I with Mr. Coventry down to the waterside, talking, wherein I see so much goodness and endeavours of doing the King service, that I do more and more admire him. It being the greatest trouble to me, he says, in the world to see not only in the Navy, but in the greatest matters of State, where he can lay his finger upon the soare (meaning this man’s faults, and this man’s office the fault lies in), and yet dare or can not remedy matters. Thence to the Exchange about several businesses, and so home to dinner, and in the afternoon took my brother John and Will down to Woolwich by water, and after being there a good while, and eating of fruit in Sheldon’s garden, we began our walk back again, I asking many things in physics of my brother John, to which he gives me so bad or no answer at all, as in the regions of the air he told me that he knew of no such thing, for he never read Aristotle’s philosophy and Des Cartes owns no such thing, which vexed me to hear him say. But I shall call him to task, and see what it is that he has studied since his going to the University. It was late before we could get from Greenwich to London by water, the tide being against us and almost past, so that to save time and to be clear of anchors I landed at Wapping, and so walked home weary enough, walking over the stones. This night Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes returned [from] Portsmouth, but I did not go see them.
. Up, and leaving my brother John to go somewhere else, I to church, and heard Mr. Mills (who is lately returned out of the country, and it seems was fetched in by many of the parishioners, with great state) preach upon the authority of the ministers, upon these words, “We are therefore embassadors of Christ.” Wherein, among other high expressions, he said, that such a learned man used to say, that if a minister of the word and an angell should meet him together, he would salute the minister first; which methought was a little too high. This day I begun to make use of the silver pen (Mr. Coventry did give me) in writing of this sermon, taking only the heads of it in Latin, which I shall, I think, continue to do. So home and at my office reading my vowes, and so to Sir W. Batten to dinner, being invited and sent for, and being willing to hear how they left things at Portsmouth, which I found but ill enough, and are mightily for a Commissioner to be at seat there to keep the yard in order. Thence in the afternoon with my Lady Batten, leading her through the streets by the hand to St. Dunstan’s Church, hard by us (where by Mrs. Russell’s means we were set well), and heard an excellent sermon of one Mr. Gifford,1901 the parson there, upon “Remember Lot’s wife.” So from thence walked back to Mrs. Russell’s, and there drank and sat talking a great while. Among other things talked of young Dawes that married the great fortune, who it seems has a Baronet’s patent given him, and is now Sir Thos. Dawes,1902 and a very fine bred man they say he is. Thence home, and my brother being abroad I walked to my uncle Wight’s and there stayed, though with little pleasure, and supped, there being the husband of Mrs. Anne Wight, who it seems is lately married to one Mr. Bentley,1903 a Norwich factor. Home, and stayed up a good while examining Will in his Latin below, and my brother along with him in his Greeke, and so to prayers and to bed. This afternoon I was amused at the tune set to the Psalm by the Clerke of the parish, and thought at first that he was out, but I find him to be a good songster, and the parish could sing it very well, and was a good tune. But I wonder that there should be a tune in the Psalms that I never heard of.
. Up, though not so early this summer as I did all the last, for which I am sorry, and though late am resolved to get up betimes before the season of rising be quite past. To my office to fit myself to wait on the Duke this day. By and by by water to Whitehall, and so to St. James’s, and anon called into the Duke’s chamber, and being dressed we were all as usual taken in with him and discoursed of our matters, and that being done, he walked, and I in the company with him, to Whitehall, and there he took barge for Woolwich, and, I up to the Committee of Tangier, where my Lord Sandwich, my Lord Peterborough (whom I have not seen before since his coming back), Sir W. Compton, and Mr. Povy. Our discourse about supplying my Lord Teviott with money, wherein I am sorry to see, though they do not care for him, yet they are willing to let him for civility and compliment only have money almost without expecting any account of it; but by this means, he being such a cunning fellow as he is, the King is like to pay dear for our courtiers’ ceremony. Thence by coach with my Lords Peterborough and Sandwich to my Lord Peterborough’s house; and there, after an hour’s looking over some fine books of the Italian buildings, with fine cuts; and also my Lord Peterborough’s bowes and arrows, of which he is a great lover, we sat down to dinner, my Lady1904 coming down to dinner also, and there being Mr. Williamson,1905 that belongs to Sir H. Bennet, whom I find a pretty understanding and accomplished man, but a little conceited. After dinner I took leave and went to Greatorex’s, whom I found in his garden, and set him to work upon my ruler, to engrave an almanac and other things upon the brasses of it, which a little before night he did, but the latter part he slubbered over, that I must get him to do it over better, or else I shall not fancy my rule, which is such a folly that I am come to now, that whereas before my delight was in multitude of books, and spending money in that and buying alway of other things, now that I am become a better husband, and have left off buying, now my delight is in the neatness of everything, and so cannot be pleased with anything unless it be very neat, which is a strange folly. Hither came W. Howe about business, and he and I had a great deal of discourse about my Lord Sandwich, and I find by him that my Lord do dote upon one of the daughters of Mrs. [Becke] where he lies, so that he spends his time and money upon her. He tells me she is a woman of a very bad fame and very impudent, and has told my Lord so, yet for all that my Lord do spend all his evenings with her, though he be at court in the day time, and that the world do take notice of it, and that Pickering is only there as a blind, that the world may think that my Lord spends his time with him when he do worse, and that hence it is that my Lord has no more mind to go into the country than he has. In fine, I perceive my Lord is dabbling with this wench, for which I am sorry, though I do not wonder at it, being a man amorous enough, and now begins to allow himself the liberty that he says everybody else at Court takes. Here I am told that my Lord Bristoll is either fled or concealed himself; having been sent for to the King, it is believed to be sent to the Tower, but he is gone out of the way. Yesterday, I am told also, that Sir J. Lenthall,1906 in Southwarke, did apprehend about one hundred Quakers, and other such people, and hath sent some of them to the gaole at Kingston, it being now the time of the Assizes. Hence home and examined a piece of Latin of Will’s with my brother, and so to prayers and to bed. This evening I had a letter from my father that says that my wife will come to town this week, at which I wonder that she should come to town without my knowing more of it. But I find they have lived very ill together since she went, and I must use all the brains I have to bring her to any good when she do come home, which I fear will be hard to do, and do much disgust me the thoughts of it.
. Up and to my office, whither, by and by, my brother Tom came, and I did soundly rattle him for his neglecting to see and please the Joyces as he has of late done. I confess I do fear that he do not understand his business, nor will do any good in his trade, though he tells me that he do please everybody and that he gets money, but I shall not believe it till I see a state of his accounts, which I have ordered him to bring me before he sees me any more. We met and sat at the office all the morning, and at noon I to the ’Change, where I met Dr. Pierce, who tells me that the King comes to town this day, from Tunbridge, to stay a day or two, and then fetch the Queen from thence, who he says is grown a very debonnaire lady, and now hugs him, and meets him gallopping upon the road, and all the actions of a fond and pleasant lady that can be, that he believes has a chat now and then of Mrs. Stewart, but that there is no great danger of her, she being only an innocent, young, raw girl; but my Lady Castlemaine, who rules the King in matters of state, and do what she list with him, he believes is now falling quite out of favour. After the Queen is come back she goes to the Bath; and so to Oxford, where great entertainments are making for her. This day I am told that my Lord Bristoll hath warrants issued out against him, to have carried him to the Tower;1907 but he is fled away, or hid himself. So much the Chancellor hath got the better of him. Upon the ’Change my brother, and Will bring me word that Madam Turner would come and dine with me today, so I hasted home and found her and Mrs. Morrice there (The. Joyce being gone into the country), which is the reason of the mother rambling. I got a dinner for them, and after dinner my uncle Thomas and aunt Bell came and saw me, and I made them almost foxed with wine till they were very kind (but I did not carry them up to my ladies). So they went away, and so my two ladies and I in Mrs. Turner’s coach to Mr. Povy’s, who being not within, we went in and there showed Mrs. Turner his perspective and volary,1908 and the fine things that he is building of now, which is a most neat thing. Thence to the Temple and by water to Westminster; and there Morrice and I went to Sir R. Long’s to have fetched a niece of his, but she was not within, and so we went to boat again and then down to the bridge, and there tried to find a sister of Mrs. Morrice’s, but she was not within neither, and so we went through bridge, and I carried them on board the King’s pleasure-boat, all the way reading in a book of Receipts of making fine meats and sweetmeats, among others to make my own sweet water, which made us good sport. So I landed them at Greenwich, and there to a garden, and gave them fruit and wine, and so to boat again, and finally, in the cool of the evening, to Lion Key,1909 the tide against us, and so landed and walked to the Bridge, and there took a coach by chance passing by, and so I saw them home, and there eat some cold venison with them, and drunk and bade them good night, having been mighty merry with them, and I think it is not amiss to preserve, though it cost me a little, such a friend as Mrs. Turner. So home and to bed, my head running upon what to do tomorrow to fit things against my wife’s coming, as to buy a bedstead, because my brother John is here, and I have now no more beds than are used.
. A little to my office, to put down my yesterday’s journal, and so abroad to buy a bedstead and do other things. So home again, and having put up the bedstead and done other things in order to my wife’s coming, I went out to several places and to Mrs. Turner’s, she inviting me last night, and there dined; with her and Madam Morrice and a stranger we were very merry and had a fine dinner, and thence I took leave and to Whitehall, where my Lords Sandwich, Peterborough, and others made a Tangier Committee; spent the afternoon in reading and ordering with a great deal of alteration, and yet methinks never a whit the better, of a letter drawn by Creed to my Lord Rutherford. The Lords being against anything that looked to be rough, though it was in matter of money and accounts, wherein their courtship may cost the King dear. Only I do see by them, that speaking in matters distasteful to him that we write to, it is best to do it in the plainest way and without ambages or reasoning, but only say matters of fact, and leave the party to collect your meaning. Thence by water to my brother’s, and there I hear my wife is come and gone home, and my father is come to town also, at which I wondered. But I discern it is to give my brother advice about his business, and it may be to pacify me about the differences that have been between my wife and him and my mother at her late being with them. Though by and by he coming to Mr. Holden’s (where I was buying a hat) he took no notice to me of anything. I talked to him a little while and left him to lie at the end of the town, and I home, where methought I found my wife strange, not knowing, I believe, in what temper she could expect me to be in, but I fell to kind words, and so we were very kind, only she could not forbear telling me how she had been used by them and her maid, Ashwell, in the country, but I find it will be best not to examine it, for I doubt she’s in fault too, and therefore I seek to put it off from my hearing, and so to bed and there entertained her with great content, and so to sleep.
. Lay long in bed with my wife talking of family matters, and so up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and then home to dinner, and after dinner my wife and I to talk again about getting of a couple of good maids and to part with Ashwell, which troubles me for her father’s sake, though I shall be glad to have the charge taken away of keeping a woman. Thence a little to the office, and so abroad with my wife by water to Whitehall, and there at my Lord’s lodgings met my Lady Jemimah, with whom we stayed a good while. Thence to Mrs. Hunt’s, where I left my wife, and I to walk a little in St. James’s Park, while Mrs. Harper might come home, with whom we came to speak about her kinswoman Jane Gentleman to come and live with us as a chamber maid, and there met with Mr. Hoole1910 my old acquaintance of Magdalen, and walked with him an hour in the Park, discoursing chiefly of Sir Samuel Morland, whose lady1911 is gone into France. It seems he buys ground and a farm in the country, and lays out money upon building, and God knows what! so that most of the money he sold his pension of £500 per annum for, to Sir Arthur Slingsby,1912 is believed is gone. It seems he hath very great promises from the King, and Hoole hath seen some of the King’s letters, under his own hand, to Morland, promising him great things (and among others, the order of the Garter,1913 as Sir Samuel says); but his lady thought it below her to ask anything at the King’s first coming, believing the King would do it of himself, when as Hoole do really think if he had asked to be Secretary of State at the King’s first coming, he might have had it. And the other day at her going into France, she did speak largely to the King herself, how her husband hath failed of what his Majesty had promised, and she was sure intended him; and the King did promise still, as he is a King and a gentleman, to be as good as his word in a little time, to a tittle: but I never believe it. Here in the Park I met with Mr. Coventry, where he sent for a letter he had newly writ to me, wherein he had enclosed one from Commissioner Pett complaining of his being defeated in his attempt to suspend two pursers, wherein the manner of his doing it, and complaint of our seeing him (contrary to our promises the other day), deserted, did make us laugh mightily, and was good sport to think how awkwardly he goes about a thing that he has no courage of his own nor mind to do. Mr. Coventry answered it very handsomely, but I perceive Pett has left off his corresponding with me any more. Thence to fetch my wife from Mrs. Hunt’s, where now he was come in, and we eat and drunk, and so away (their child being at home, a very lively, but not pretty at all), by water to Mrs. Turner’s, and there made a short visit, and so home by coach, and after supper to prayers and to bed, and before going to bed Ashwell began to make her complaint, and by her I do perceive that she has received most base usage from my wife, which my wife sillily denies, but it is impossible the wench could invent words and matter so particularly, against which my wife has nothing to say but flatly to deny, which I am sorry to see, and blows to have past, and high words even at Hinchinbrooke House among my Lady’s people, of which I am mightily ashamed. I said nothing to either of them, but let them talk till she was gone and left us abed, and then I told my wife my mind with great sobriety of grief, and so to sleep.
. Awake, and to chide my wife again, and I find that my wife has got too great head to be brought down soon, nor is it possible with any convenience to keep Ashwell longer, my wife is so set and convinced, as she was in Sarah, to make her appear a Lyer in every small thing that we shall have no peace while she stays. So I up and to my office doing several businesses in my study, and so home to dinner. The time having outslipt me and my stomach, it being past two a-clock, and yet before we could sit down to dinner Mrs. Harper and her cousin Jane came, and we treated and discoursed long about her coming to my wife for a chamber maid, and I think she will do well. So they went away expecting notice when she shall come, and so we sat down to dinner at four a-clock almost, and then I walked forth to my brother’s, where I found my father very discontented, and has no mind to come to my house, and would have begun some of the differences between my wife and him, but I desired to hear none of them, and am sorry at my folly in forcing it and theirs in not telling me of it at the beginning, and therefore am resolved to make the best of a bad market, and to bring my wife to herself again as soon and as well as I can. So we parted very kindly, and he will dine with me tomorrow or next day. Thence walked home, doing several errands by the way, and at home took my wife to visit Sir W. Penn, who is still lame, and after an hour with him went home and supped, and with great content to bed.
. Lay pretty long in bed, being a little troubled with some pain got by wind and cold, and so up with good peace of mind, hoping that my wife will mind her house and servants, and so to the office, and being too soon to sit walked to my viol, which is well nigh done, and I believe I may have it home to my mind next week. So back to my office, and there we sat all the morning, I till 2 o’clock before I could go to dinner again. After dinner walked forth to my instrument maker, and there had my rule he made me lay now so perfected, that I think in all points I have never need or desire a better, or think that any man yet had one so good in all the several points of it for my use. So by water down to Deptford, taking into my boat with me Mr. Palmer, one whom I knew and his wife when I was first married, being an acquaintance of my wife’s and her friends lodging at Charing Cross during our differences. He joyed me in my condition, and himself it seems is forced to follow the law in a common ordinary way, but seems to do well, and is a sober man, enough by his discourse. He landed with me at Deptford, where he saw by the officers’ respect to me a piece of my command, and took notice of it, though God knows I hope I shall not be elated with that, but rather desire to be known for serving the King well, and doing my duty. He gone I walked up and down the yard a while discoursing with the officers, and so by water home meditating on my new Rule with great pleasure. So to my office, and there by candle light doing business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and with my wife to church, and finding her desirous to go to church, I did suspect her meeting of Pembleton, but he was not there, and so I thought my jealousy in vain, and treat the sermon with great quiet. And home to dinner very pleasant, only some angry, notwithstanding my wife could not forbear to give Ashwell, and after dinner to church again, and there, looking up and down, I found Pembleton to stand in the isle against us, he coming too late to get a pew. Which, Lord! into what a sweat did it put me! I do not think my wife did see him, which did a little satisfy me. But it makes me mad to see of what a jealous temper I am and cannot help it, though let him do what he can I do not see, as I am going to reduce my family, what hurt he can do me, there being no more occasion now for my wife to learn of him. Here preached a confident young coxcomb. So home, and I stayed a while with Sir J. Minnes, at Mrs. Turner’s, hearing his parrat talk, laugh, and crow, which it do to admiration. So home and with my wife to see Sir W. Penn, and thence to my uncle Wight, and took him at supper and sat down, where methinks my uncle is more kind than he used to be both to me now, and my father tell me to him also, which I am glad at. After supper home, it being extraordinary dark, and by chance a lantern came by, and so we hired it to light us home, otherwise were we no sooner within doors but a great shower fell that had doused us cruelly if we had not been within, it being as dark as pitch. So to prayers and to bed.
. Up, and then fell into discourse, my wife and I to Ashwell, and much against my will I am fain to express a willingness to Ashwell that she should go from us, and yet in my mind I am glad of it, to ease me of the charge. So she is to go to her father this day. And leaving my wife and her talking highly, I went away by coach with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten to St. James’s, and there attended of course the Duke. And so to Whitehall, where I met Mr. Moore, and he tells me with great sorrow of my lord’s being debauched he fears by this woman at Chelsey, which I am troubled at, and resolve to speak to him of it if I can seasonably. Thence home, where I dined, and after dinner comes our old maid Susan to look for a gorget that she says she has lost by leaving it here, and by many circumstances it being clear to me that Hannah, our present cook-maid, not only has it, but had it on upon her necke when Susan came in, and shifted it off presently upon her coming in, I did charge her so home with it (having a mind to have her gone from us), that in a huff she told us she would be gone tonight if I would pay her her wages, which I was glad and my wife of, and so fetched her her wages, and though I am doubtful that she may convey some things away with her clothes, my wife searching them, yet we are glad of her being so gone, and so she went away in a quarter of an hour’s time. Being much amused at this to have never a maid but Ashwell, that we do not intend to keep, nor a boy, and my wife and I being left for an hour, till my brother came in, alone in the house, I grew very melancholy, and so my brother being come in I went forth to Mrs. Holden’s, to whom I formerly spoke about a girl to come to me instead of a boy, and the like I did to Mrs. Standing and also to my brother Tom, whom I found at an alehouse in Popinjay Alley1914 drinking, and I standing with him at the gate of the alley, Ashwell came by, and so I left Tom and went almost home with her, talking of her going away. I find that she is willing to go, and told her (though behind my back my wife has told her that it was more my desire than hers that she should go, which was not well), that seeing my wife and she could not agree I did choose rather (was she my sister) have her gone, it would be better for us and for her too. To which she willing agreed, and will not tell me anything but that she do believe that my wife would have somebody there that might not be so liable to give me information of things as she takes her to be. But, however, I must later to prevent all that. I parted with her near home, agreeing to take no notice of my coming along with her, and so by and by came home after her. Where I find a sad distracted house, which troubles me. However, to supper and prayers and to bed. And while we were getting to bed my wife began to discourse to her, and plainly asked whether she had got a place or no. And the other answered that she could go if we would to one of our own office, to which we agreed if she would. She thereupon said no; she would not go to any but where she might teach children, because of keeping herself in use of what things she had earnt, which she do not here nor will there, but only dressing. By which I perceive the wench is cunning, but one very fit for such a place, and accomplished to be woman to any lady in the land. So quietly to sleep, it being a cold night. But till my house is settled, I do not see that I can mind my business of the office, which grieves me to the heart. But I hope all will over in a little time, and I hope to the best. This day at Mrs. Holden’s I found my new low crowned beaver according to the present fashion made, and will be sent home tomorrow.
. Up and to my office, where we sat all the morning. And at noon home, and my father came and dined with me, Susan being come and helped my wife to dress dinner. After dinner my father and I talked about our country-matters, and in fine I find that he thinks £50 per ann. will go near to keep them all, which I am glad of. He having taken his leave of me and my wife without any mention of the differences between them and my wife in the country, I went forth to several places about businesses, and so home again, and after prayers to bed.
. Up betimes, and my wife up and about the house, Susan beginning to have her drunken tricks, and put us in mind of her old faults and folly and distractedness, which we had forgot, so that I became mightily troubled with her. This morning came my joiners to new lay the floors, and begun with the dining room. I out and see my viol again, and it is very well, and to Mr. Hollyard, and took some pills of him and a note under his hand to drink wine with my beere, without which I was obliged, by my private vowe, to drink none a good while, and have strictly observed it, and by my drinking of small beere and not eating, I am so mightily troubled with wind, that I know not what to do almost. Thence to Whitehall, and there met Mr. Moore, and fell a-talking about my Lord’s folly at Chelsey, and it was our discourse by water to London and to the great coffee house against the Exchange, where we sat a good while talking; and I find that my lord is wholly given up to this wench, who it seems has been reputed a common strumpet. I have little encouragement from Mr. Moore to meddle with it to tell my Lord, for fear it may do him no good, but me hurt. Thence homewards, taking leave of him, and met Tom Marsh, my old acquaintance at Westminster, who talks mightily of the honour of his place, being Clerke Assistant to the Clerke of the House of Commons, and I take him to be a coxcombe, and so did give him half a pint of wine, but drink none myself, and so got shut of him. So home, and there found my wife almost mad with Susan’s tricks, so as she is forced to let her go and leave the house all in dirt and the clothes all wet, and gets Goody Taylour to do the business for her till another comes. Here came Will Howe, and he and I alone in my chamber talking of my Lord, who drives me out of love to my Lord to tell my Lord of the matter we discoursed of, which tend so much to the ruin of his state, and so I resolved to take a good heart and do whatever comes of it. He gone, we sat down and eat a bit of dinner fetched from the cook’s, and so up again and to my joiners, who will make my floors very handsome. By and by comes in Pembleton, which begun to make me sweat, but I did give him so little countenance, and declared at one word against dancing any more, and bid him a short (God be with you) myself, and so he took as short a leave of my wife and so went away, and I think without any time of receiving any great satisfaction from my wife or invitation to come again. To my office till it was dark doing business, and so home by candle light to make up my accounts for my Lord and Mr. Moore. By and by comes Mr. Moore to me, and stayed a good while with me making up his accounts and mine, and we did not come to any end therein for want of his papers, and so put it off to another time. He supped with me in all my dirt and disorder, and so went away and we to bed. I discoursed with him a great while about my speaking to my Lord of his business, and I apprehend from him that it is likely to prove perhaps of bad effect to me and no good to him, and therefore I shall even let it alone and let God do his will, at least till my Lord is in the country, and then we shall see whether he resolves to come to Chelsey again or no, and so order the stopping of him therein if we can.
. Up betimes and to my office (having first been angry with my brother John, and in the heat of my sudden passion called him Asse and coxcomb, for which I am sorry, it being but for leaving the key of his chamber with a spring lock within side of his door), and there we sat all the morning, and at noon dined at home, and there found a little girl, which she told my wife her name was Jinny, by which name we shall call her. I think a good likely girl, and a parish child of St. Bride’s, of honest parentage, and recommended by the churchwarden. After dinner among my joiners laying my floors, which please me well, and so to my office, and we sat this afternoon upon an extraordinary business of victualling. In the evening came Commissioner Pett, who fell foule on mee for my carriage to him at Chatham, wherein, after protestation of my love and good meaning to him, he was quiet; but I doubt he will not be able to do the service there that any other man of his ability would. Home in the evening my viol (and lute new strung being brought home too), and I would have paid Mr. Hunt for it, but he did not come along with it himself, which I expected and was angry for it, so much is it against my nature to owe anything to anybody. This evening the girl that was brought to me today for so good a one, being cleansed of lice this day by my wife, and good, new clothes put on her back, she run away from Goody Taylour that was showing her the way to the bakehouse, and we heard no more of her. So to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and among my joiners, and to my office, where the joiners are also laying mouldings in the inside of my closet. Then abroad and by water to Whitehall, and there got Sir G. Carteret to sign me my last quarter’s bills for my wages, and meeting with Mr. Creed he told me how my Lord Teviott hath received another attack from Guyland at Tangier with 10,000 men, and at last, as is said, is come, after a personal treaty with him, to a good understanding and peace with him. Thence to my brother’s, and there told him how my girl has served us which he sent me, and directed him to get my clothes again, and get the girl whipped. So to other places by the way about small businesses, and so home, and after looking over all my workmen, I went by water and land to Deptford, and there found by appointment Sir W. Batten, but he was got to Mr. Waith’s to dinner, where I dined with him, a good dinner and good discourse, and his wife, I believe, a good woman. We fell in discourse of Captain Cocke, and how his lady has lost all her fine linen almost, but besides that they say she gives out she had £3,000 worth of linen, which we all laugh at, and Sir W. Batten (who I perceive is not so fond of the Captain as he used to be, and less of her, from her slight receiving of him and his lady it seems once) told me how he should say that he see he must spend £700 per ann. get it how he could, which was a high speech, and by all men’s discover, his estate not good enough to spend so much. After dinner altered our design to go to Woolwich, and put it off to tomorrow morning, and so went all to Greenwich (Mrs. Waith excepted, who went thither, but not to the same house with us, but to her father’s, that lives there), to the music-house, where we had paltry music, till the master organist came, whom by discourse I afterwards knew, having employed him for my Lord Sandwich, to prick out something (his name Arundell), and he did give me a fine voluntary or two, and so home by water, and at home I find my girl that run away brought by a bedel of St. Bride’s Parish, and stripped her and sent her away, and a newe one come, of Griffin’s helping to, which I think will prove a pretty girl. Her name, Susan, and so to supper after having this evening paid Mr. Hunt £3 for my viol (besides the carving which I paid this day 10s. for to the carver), and he tells me that I may, without flattery, say, I have as good a Theorbo viol and violin as is in England. So to bed.
. Up by four o’clock to go with Sir W. Batten to Woolwich and Sir J. Minnes, which we did, though not before 6 or 7 by their laying abed. Our business was to survey the new wharf building there, in order to the giving more to him that do it (Mr. Randall) than contracted for, but I see no reason for it, though it be well done, yet no better than contracted to be. Here we eat and drank at the Clerke of the Cheques, and in taking water at the Tower gate, we drank a cup of strong water, which I did out of pure conscience to my health, and I think is not excepted by my oaths, but it is a thing I shall not do again, hoping to have no such occasion. After breakfast Mr. Castle and I walked to Greenwich, and in our way met some gypsies, who would needs tell me my fortune, and I suffered one of them, who told me many things common as others do, but bade me beware of a John and a Thomas, for they did seek to do me hurt, and that somebody should be with me this day sennight to borrow money of me, but I should lend him none. She got ninepence of me. And so I left them and to Greenwich and so to Deptford, where the two knights were come, and thence home by water, where I find my closet done at my office to my mind and work gone well on at home; and Ashwell gone abroad to her father, my wife having spoken plainly to her. After dinner to my office, getting my closet made clean and setting some papers in order, and so in the evening home and to bed. This day Sir W. Batten tells me that Mr. Newburne (of whom the nickname came up among us forarse Tom Newburne) is dead of eating cowcumbers,1915 of which, the other day, I heard another, I think Sir Nicholas Crisp’s son.
. Up and to church without my wife, she being all dirty, as my house is. God forgive me, I looked about to see if I could spy Pembleton, but I could not, which did please me not a little. Home to dinner, and then to walk up and down in my house with my wife, discoursing of our family matters, and I hope, after all my troubles of mind and jealousy, we shall live happily still. To church again, and so home to my wife; and with her read Iter Boreale,1916 a poem, made just at the King’s coming home; but I never read it before, and now like it pretty well, but not so as it was cried up. So to supper. No pleasure or discourse with Ashwell, with whom for her neglect and unconcernment to do anything in this time of dirt and trouble in the house, but gadding abroad as she has been all this afternoon, I know not whither. After supper to prayers and to bed, having been, by a sudden letter coming to me from Mr. Coventry, been with Sir W. Penn, to discourse with him about sending 500 soldiers into Ireland. I doubt matters do not go very right there.
. Up very early, and my joiners came to work. I to Mr. Moore; from him came back home again, and drew up an account to my Lord, and that being done met him at my Lord Sandwich’s, where I was a good while alone with my Lord; and I perceive he confides in me and loves me as he uses to do, and tells me his condition, which is now very well all I fear is that he will not live within compass, for I am told this morning of strange dotages of his upon the slut at Chelsea, even in the presence of his daughter, my Lady Jem, and Mrs. Ferrets, who took notice of it. There come to him this morning his prints of the river Tagus and the City of Lisbon,1917 which he measured with his own hand, and printed by command of the King. My Lord pleases himself with it, but methinks it ought to have been better done than by jobing. Besides I put him upon having some took off upon white sattin, which he ordered presently. I offered my Lord my accounts, and did give him up his old bond for £500 and took a new one of him for £700, which I am by lending him more money to make up: and I am glad of it. My Lord would have had me dine with him, but I had a mind to go home to my workmen, and so took a kind goodbye of him, and so with Creed to St. James’s, and, missing Mr. Coventry, walked to the New Exchange, and there drank some whey, and so I by water home, and found my closet at my office made very clean and neat to my mind mightily, and home to dinner, and then to my office to brush my books, and put them and my papers in order again, and all the afternoon till late at night doing business there, and so home to supper, and then to work in my chamber, making matters of this day’s accounts clear in my books, they being a little extraordinary, and so being very late I put myself to bed, the rest being long ago gone.
. Up very early and removed the things out of my chamber into the dining room, it being to be new floored this day. So the workmen being come and falling to work there, I to the office, and thence down to Lymehouse to Phin. Pett’s about masts, and so back to the office, where we sat; and being rose, and Mr. Coventry being gone, taking his leave, for that he is to go to the Bath with the Duke tomorrow, I to the ’Change and there spoke with several persons, and lastly with Sir W. Warren, and with him to a Coffee House, and there sat two hours talking of office business and Mr. Wood’s knavery, which I verily believe, and lastly he tells me that he hears that Captain Cocke is like to become a principal officer, either a Controller or a Surveyor, at which I am not sorry so either of the other may be gone, and I think it probable enough that it may be so. So home at 2 o’clock, and there I found Ashwell gone, and her wages come to 50s., and my wife, by a mistake from me, did give her 20s. more; but I am glad that she is gone and the charge saved. After dinner among my joiners, and with them till dark night, and this night they made an end of all; and so having paid them 40s. for their six days’ work, I am glad they have ended and are gone, for I am weary and my wife too of this dirt. My wife growing peevish at night, being weary, and I a little vexed to see that she do not retain things in her memory that belong to the house as she ought and I myself do, I went out in a little seeming discontent to the office, and after being there a while, home to supper and to bed. Tomorrow they say the King and the Duke set out for the Bath. This noon going to the Exchange, I met a fine fellow with trumpets before him in Leadenhall-street, and upon enquiry I find that he is the clerk of the City Market; and three or four men carried each of them an arrow of a pound weight in their hands. It seems this Lord Mayor1918 begins again an old custome, that upon the three first days of Bartholomew Fair, the first, there is a match of wrestling, which was done, and the Lord Mayor there and Aldermen in Moorefields yesterday: today, shooting: and tomorrow, hunting. And this officer of course is to perform this ceremony of riding through the city, I think to proclaim or challenge any to shoot. It seems that the people of the fair cry out upon it as a great hindrance to them.
. Up, and after doing something in order to the putting of my house in order now the joinery is done, I went by water to Whitehall, where the Court full of wagons and horses, the King and Court going this day out towards the Bath,1919 and I to St. James’s, where I spent an hour or more talking of many things to my great content with Mr. Coventry in his chamber, he being ready to set forth too with the Duke today, and so left him, and I meeting Mr. Gauden, with him to our offices and in Sir W. Penn’s chamber did discourse by a meeting on purpose with Mr. Waith about the victualling business and came to some issue in it. So home to dinner, and Mr. Moore came and dined with me, and after dinner I paid him some money which evened all reckonings between him and me to this day, and for my Lord also I paid him some money, so that now my Lord owes me, for which I have his bond, just £700. After long discourse with him of the fitness of his giving me a receipt for this money, which I for my security think necessary and he otherwise do not think so, at last, after being a little angry, and I resolving not to let go my money without it, he did give me one. Thence I took him, and he and I took a pleasant walk to Deptford and back again, I doing much business there. He went home and I home also, indoors to supper, being very glad to see my house begin to look like itself again, hoping after this is over not to be in any dirt a great while again, but it is very handsome, and will be more when the floors come to be of one colour. So weary to bed. Pleased this day to see Captain Hickes come to me with a list of all the officers of Deptford Yard, wherein he, being a high old Cavalier, do give me an account of every one of them to their reproach in all respects, and discovers many of their knaveries; and tells me, and so I thank God I hear everywhere, that my name is up for a good husband for the King, and a good man, for which I bless God; and that he did this by particular direction of Mr. Coventry.
. Up, after much pleasant talk with my wife and a little that vexes me, for I see that she is confirmed in it that all that I do is by design, and that my very keeping of the house in dirt, and the doing of this and anything else in the house, is but to find her employment to keep her within and from minding of her pleasure, in which, though I am sorry to see she minds it, is true enough in a great degree. To my office, and there we sat and despatched much business. Home and dined with my wife well, and then up and made clean my closet of books, and had my chamber a third time made very clean, so that it is now in a very fine condition. Thence down to see some good plank in the river with Sir W. Batten and back again, it being a very cold day and a cold wind. Home again, and after seeing Sir W. Penn, to my office, and there till late doing of business, being mightily encouraged by everybody that I meet withal upon the ’Change and everywhere else, that I am taken notice of for a man that do the King’s business wholly and well. For which the Lord be praised, for I know no honour I desire more. Home to supper, where I find my house very clean from top to bottom again to my great content. I found a feacho (as he calls it) of fine sugar and a case of orange-flower water come from Mr. Cocke, of Lisbon, the fruits of my last year’s service to him, which I did in great justice to the man, a perfect stranger. He sends it me desiring that I would not let Sir J. Minnes know it, from whom he expected to have found the service done that he had from me, from whom he could expect nothing, and the other failed him, and would have done I am sure to this day had not I brought it to some end. After supper to bed.
. At the office betimes (it being cold all night and this morning, and a very great frost they say abroad, which is much, having had no summer at all almost), where we sat, and in the afternoon also about settling the establishment of the number of men borne on ships, etc., till the evening, and after that in my closet till late, and quite tired with business, home to supper and to bed.
. Abroad with my wife by water to Westminster, and there left her at my Lord’s lodgings, and I to Jervas the barber’s, and there was trimmed, and did deliver back a periwig, which he brought by my desire the other day to show me, having some thoughts, though no great desire or resolution yet to wear one, and so I put it off for a while. Thence to my wife, and calling at both the Exchanges, buying stockings for her and myself, and also at Leadenhall, where she and I, it being candlelight, bought meat for tomorrow, having never a maid to do it, and I myself bought, while my wife was gone to another shop, a leg of beef, a good one, for six pence, and my wife says is worth my money. So walked home with a woman carrying our things. I am mightily displeased at a letter Tom sent me last night, to borrow £20 more of me, and yet gives me no account, as I have long desired, how matters stand with him in the world. I am troubled also to see how, contrary to my expectation, my brother John neither is the scholler nor minds his studies as I thought would have done, but loiters away his time, so that I must send him soon to Cambridge again.
. Up and to my office all the morning, where Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes did pay the short allowance money to the East India companies, and by the assistance of the City Marshall and his men, did lay hold of two or three of the chief of the companies that were in the mutiny the other day, and sent them to prison. This noon came Jane Gentleman to serve my wife as her chamber maid. I wish she may prove well. So ends this month, with my mind pretty well in quiet, and in good disposition of health since my drinking at home of a little wine with my beer; but nowhere else do I drink any wine at all. The King and Queen and the Court at the Bath, my Lord Sandwich in the country newly gone.
September 1663
. Up pretty betimes, and after a little at my viol to my office, where we sat all the morning, and I got my bill among others for my carved work (which I expected to have paid for myself) signed at the table, and hope to get the money back again, though if the rest had not got it paid by the King, I never intended nor did desire to have him pay for my vanity. In the evening my brother John coming to me to complain that my wife seems to be discontented at his being here, and shows him great disrespect; so I took and walked with him in the garden, and discoursed long with him about my affairs, and how imprudent it is for my father and mother and him to take exceptions without great cause at my wife, considering how much it concerns them to keep her their friend and for my peace; not that I would ever be led by her to forget or desert them in the main, but yet she deserves to be pleased and complied with a little, considering the manner of life that I keep her to, and how convenient it were for me to have Brampton for her to be sent to when I have a mind or occasion to go abroad to Portsmouth or elsewhere. So directed him how to behave himself to her, and gave him other counsel; and so to my office, where late.
. Up betimes and to my office, and thence with Sir J. Minnes by coach to Whitehall, where met us Sir W. Batten, and there stayed by the Council Chamber till the Lords called us in, being appointed four days ago to attend them with an account of the riot among the seamen the other day, when Sir J. Minnes did as like a coxcomb as ever I saw any man speak in my life, and so we were dismissed, they making nothing almost of the matter. We stayed long without, till by and by my Lord Mayor comes, who also was commanded to be there, and he having, we not being within with him, an admonition from the Lords to take better care of preserving the peace, we joined with him, and the Lords having commanded Sir J. Minnes to prosecute the fellows for the riot, we rode along with my Lord Mayor in his coach to the Sessions House in the Old Bailey, where the Sessions are now sitting. Here I heard two or three ordinary trials, among others one (which, they say, is very common nowadays, and therefore in my now taking of maids I resolve to look to have somebody to answer for them) a woman that went and was indicted by four names for entering herself a cook-maid to a gentleman that prosecuted her there, and after 3 days run away with a silver tankard, a porringer of silver, and a couple of spoons, and being now found is found guilty, and likely will be hanged. By and by up to dinner with my Lord Mayor and the Aldermen, and a very great dinner and most excellent venison, but it almost made me sick by not daring to drink wine. After dinner into a withdrawing room; and there we talked, among other things, of the Lord Mayor’s sword.1920 They tell me this sword, they believe, is at least a hundred or two hundred years old; and another that he hath, which is called the Black Sword, which the Lord Mayor wears when he mournes, but properly is their Lenten sword to wear upon Good Friday and other Lent days, is older than that. Thence I, leaving Sir J. Minnes to look after his indictment drawing up, I home by water, and there found my wife mightily pleased with a present of shells, fine shells given her by Captain Hickes, and so she and I up and look them over, and indeed they are very pleasant ones. By and by in comes Mr. Lewellin,1921 lately come from Ireland, to see me, and he tells me how the English interest falls mightily there, the Irish party being too great, so that most of the old rebells are found innocent, and their lands, which were forfeited and bought or given to the English, are restored to them; which gives great discontent there among the English. He being gone, I to my office, where late, putting things in order, and so home to supper and to bed. Going through the City, my Lord Mayor told me how the piller1922 set up by Exeter House is only to show where the pipes of water run to the City; and observed that this City is as well watered as any city in the world, and that the bringing the water to the City hath cost it first and last above £300,000; but by the new building, and the building of St. James’s by my Lord St. Albans,1923 which is now about (and which the City stomach I perceive highly, but dare not oppose it), were it now to be done, it would not be done for a million of money.
. Up betimes, and for an hour at my viol before my people rise. Then up and to the office a while, and then to Sir W. Batten, who is going this day for pleasure down to the Downs. I eat a breakfast with them, and at my Lady’s desire with them by coach to Greenwich, where I went aboard with them on the Charlotte yacht. The wind very fresh, and I believe they will be all sicke enough, besides that she is mighty troublesome on the water. Methinks she makes over much of her husband’s ward, young Mr. Griffin, as if she expected some service from him when he comes to it, being a pretty young boy. I left them under sail, and I to Deptford, and, after a word or two with Sir J. Minnes, walked to Redriffe and so home. In my way, it coming into my head, overtaking of a beggar or two on the way that looked like Gypsies, what the Gypsies 8 or 9 days ago had foretold, that somebody that day sennight should be with me to borrow money, but I should lend none; and looking, when I came to my office, upon my journal, that my brother John had brought a letter that day from my brother Tom to borrow £20 more of me, which had vexed me so that I had sent the letter to my father into the country, to acquaint him of it, and how little he is beforehand that he is still forced to borrow. But it pleased me mightily to see how, contrary to my expectations, having so lately lent him £20, and belief that he had money by him to spare, and that after some days not thinking of it, I should look back and find what the Gypsy had told me to be so true. After dinner at home to my office, and there till late doing business, being very well pleased with Mr. Cutler’s coming to me about some business, and among other things tells me that they value me as a man of business, which he accounts the best virtuoso, and I know his thinking me so, and speaking where he comes, may be of good use to me. Home to supper, and to bed.
. Up betimes, and an hour at my viol, and then abroad by water to Whitehall and Westminster Hall, and there bought the first news-books of L’Estrange’s1924 writing, he beginning this week; and makes, methinks, but a simple beginning. Then to speak to Mrs. Lane, who seems desirous to have me come to see her and to have her company as I had a little while ago, which methinks if she were very modest, considering how I tumbled her and tost her, she should not. Thence to Mrs. Harper, and sent for Creed, and there Mrs. Harper sent for a maid for me to come to live with my wife. I like the maid’s looks well enough, and I believe may do well, she looking very modestly and speaking so too. I directed her to speak with my wife, and so Creed and I away to Mr. Povy’s, and he not being at home, walked to Lincoln’s Inn walks,1925 which they are making very fine, and about one o’clock went back to Povy’s; and by and by in comes he, and so we sat and down to dinner, and his lady, whom I never saw before (a handsome old woman that brought him money that makes him do as he does), and so we had plenty of meat and drink, though I drunk no wine, though mightily urged to it, and in the exact manner that I never saw in my life anywhere, and he the most full and satisfied in it that man can be in this world with anything. After dinner done, to see his new cellars, which he has made so fine with so noble an arch and such contrivances for his barrels and bottles, and in a room next to it such a grotto and fountain, which in summer will be so pleasant as nothing in the world can be almost. But to see how he himself do pride himself too much in it, and command and expect to have all admiration, though indeed everything do highly deserve it, is a little troublesome. Thence Creed and I away, and by his importunity away by coach to Bartholomew Fair, where I have no mind to go without my wife, and therefore rode through the fair without ’lighting, and away home, leaving him there; and at home made my wife get herself presently ready, and so carried her by coach to the fair, and showed her the monkeys dancing on the ropes, which was strange, but such dirty sport that I was not pleased with it. There was also a horse with hoofs like rams hornes, a goose with four feet, and a cock with three. Thence to another place, and saw some German Clock works, the Salutation of the Virgin Mary, and several Scriptural stories; but above all there was at last represented the sea, with Neptune, Venus, mermaids, and Ayrid1926 on a dolphin, the sea rocking, so well done, that had it been in a gaudy manner and place, and at a little distance, it had been admirable. Thence home by coach with my wife, and I awhile to the office, and so to supper and to bed. This day I read a Proclamation1927 for calling in and commanding everybody to apprehend my Lord Bristoll.
. Up betimes and to my viol awhile, and so to the office, and there sat, and busy all the morning. So at noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, where I met Creed, who dined with me, and after dinner mightily importuned by Captain Hicks, who came to tell my wife the names and story of all the shells, which was a pretty present he made her the other day. He being gone, Creed, my wife, and I to Cornhill, and after many trials bought my wife a chintz, that is, a painted Indian calico, for to line her new study, which is very pretty. So home with her, and then I away (Creed being gone) to Captain Minors upon Tower Hill, and there, abating only some impertinence of his, I did inform myself well in things relating to the East Indies; both of the country and the disappointment the King met with the last voyage, by the knavery of the Portugal Viceroy, and the inconsiderableness of the place of Bombaim,1928 if we had had it. But, above all things, it seems strange to me that matters should not be understood before they went out; and also that such a thing as this, which was expected to be one of the best parts of the Queen’s portion, should not be better understood; it being, if we had it, but a poor place, and not really so as was described to our King in the draught of it, but a poor little island; whereas they made the King and Lord Chancellor, and other learned men about the King, believe that that, and other islands which are near it, were all one piece; and so the draught was drawn and presented to the King, and believed by the King and expected to prove so when our men came thither; but it is quite otherwise. Thence to my office, and after several letters writ, home to supper and to bed, and took a pill. I hear this day that Sir W. Batten was fain to put ashore at Queenborough with my Lady, who has been so sick she swears never to go to sea again. But it happens well that Holmes is come home into the Downs, where he will meet my Lady, and it may be do her more good than she looked for. He brings news of the peace between Tangier and the Moors, but the particulars I know not. He is come but yesterday.
. My pill I took last night worked very well, and I lay long in bed and sweat to get away the itching all about my body from head to foot, which is beginning again as it did the last winter, and I find after I am up that it is abated. I stayed at home all day and my wife also, whom, God forgive me, I stayed along with me for fear of her seeing of Pembleton. But she and I entertained one another all day long with great pleasure, contriving about my wife’s closet and the bedchamber, whither we intend to go up she and I today. We dined alone and supped also at night, my brother John with us, and so to prayers and to bed.
. Up pretty betimes, and awhile to my viol, and then abroad to several places, to buy things for the furnishing my house and my wife’s closet, and then met my uncle Thomas, by appointment, and he and I to the Prerogative Office in Paternoster Row,1929 and there searched and found my uncle Day’s will, end read it over and advised upon it, and his wife’s after him, and though my aunt Perkins testimony is very good, yet I fear the estate being great, and the rest that are able to inform us in the matter are all possessed of more or less of the estate, it will be hard for us ever to do anything, nor will I adventure anything till I see what part will be given to us by my uncle Thomas of all that is gained. But I had another end of putting my uncle into some doubt, that so I might keep him yet from going into the country that he may be there against the Court at his own charge, and so I left him and his son at a loss what to do till I see them again. And so I to my Lord Crew’s, thinking to have dined there, but it was too late, and so back and called at my brother’s and Mr. Holden’s about several businesses, and went all alone to the Black Spread Eagle in Bride Lane, and there had a chopp of veale and some bread, cheese, and beer, cost me a shilling to my dinner, and so through Fleet Ally, God forgive me, out of an itch to look upon the sluts there, against which when I saw them my stomach turned, and so to Bartholomew Fair, where I met with Mr. Pickering, and he and I to see the monkeys at the Dutch house, which is far beyond the other that my wife and I saw the other day; and thence to see the dancing on the ropes, which was very poor and tedious. But he and I fell in discourse about my Lord Sandwich. He tells me how he is sorry for my Lord at his being at Chelsey, and that his but seeming so to my Lord without speaking one word, had put him clear out of my Lord’s favour, so as that he was fain to leave him before he went into the country, for that he was put to eat with his servants; but I could not fish from him, though I knew it, what was the matter; but am very sorry to see that my Lord hath thus much forgot his honour, but am resolved not to meddle with it. The play being done, I stole from him and hied home, buying several things at the ironmonger’s—dogs, tongs, and shovels—for my wife’s closet and the rest of my house, and so home, and thence to my office awhile, and so home to supper and to bed. By my letters from Tangier today I hear that it grows very strong by land, and the Mole goes on. They have lately killed two hundred of the Moores, and lost about forty or fifty. I am mightily afeard of laying out too much money in goods upon my house, but it is not money flung away, though I reckon nothing money but when it is in the bank, till I have a good sum beforehand in the world.
. Up and to my viol a while, and then to my office on Phillips having brought me a draught of the Katherine yacht, prettily well done for the common way of doing it. At the office all the morning making up our last half year’s account to my Lord Treasurer, which comes to £160,000 or there abouts, the proper expense of this half year, only with an addition of £13,000 for the third due of the last account to the Treasurer for his disbursements, and £1,100 for this half year’s; so that in three years and a half his thirds come to £14,100. Dined at home with my wife. It being washing day, we had a good pie baked of a leg of mutton; and then to my office, and then abroad, and among other places to Moxon’s, and there bought a pair of globes cost me £3 10s., with which I am well pleased, I buying them principally for my wife, who has a mind to understand them, and I shall take pleasure to teach her. But here I saw his great window in his dining room, where there is the two Terrestrial Hemispheres, so painted as I never saw in my life, and nobly done and to good purpose, done by his own hand. Thence home to my office, and there at business late, and then to supper home and to bed, my people sitting up longer than ordinary before they had done their washing.
. Up by break of day, and then to my vials a while, and so to Sir W. Warren’s by agreement, and after talking and eating something with him, he and I down by water to Woolwich, and there I did several businesses, and had good discourse, and thence walked to Greenwich; in my way a little boy overtook us with a fine cup turned out of Lignum Vitæ, which the poor child confessed was made in the King’s yard by his father, a turner there, and that he do often do it, and that I might have one, and God knows what, which I shall examine. Thence to Sir W. Warren’s again, and there drew up a contract for masts which he is to sell us, and so home to dinner, finding my poor wife busy. I, after dinner, to the office, and then to Whitehall, to Sir G. Carteret’s, but did not speak with him, and so to Westminster Hall, God forgive me, thinking to meet Mrs. Lane, but she was not there, but here I met with Ned Pickering, with whom I walked 3 or 4 hours till evening, he telling me the whole business of my Lord’s folly with this Mrs. Becke, at Chelsey, of all which I am ashamed to see my Lord so grossly play the beast and fool, to the flinging off of all honour, friends, servants, and every thing and person that is good, and only will have his private lust undisturbed with this common … his sitting up night after night alone, suffering nobody to come to them, and all the day too, casting off Pickering, basely reproaching him with his small estate, which yet is a good one, and other poor courses to obtain privacy beneath his honour, and with his carrying her abroad and playing on his lute under her window, and forty other poor sordid things, which I am grieved to hear; but believe it to no purpose for me to meddle with it, but let him go on till God Almighty and his own conscience and thoughts of his lady and family do it. So after long discourse, to my full satisfaction but great trouble, I home by water and at my office late, and so to supper to my poor wife, and so to bed, being troubled to think that I shall be forced to go to Brampton the next Court, next week.
. Up betimes and to my office, and there sat all the morning making a great contract with Sir W. Warren for £3,000 worth of masts; but, good God! to see what a man might do, were I a knave, the whole business from beginning to end being done by me out of the office, and signed to by them upon the once reading of it to them, without the least care or consultation either of quality, price, number, or need of them, only in general that it was good to have a store. But I hope my pains was such, as the King has the best bargain of masts has been bought these 27 years in this office. Dined at home and then to my office again, many people about business with me, and then stepped a little abroad about business to the Wardrobe, but missed Mr. Moore, and elsewhere, and in my way met Mr. Moore, who tells me of the good peace that is made at Tangier with the Moores, but to continue but from six months to six months, and that the Mole is laid out, and likely to be done with great ease and success, we to have a quantity of ground for our cattle about the town to our use. To my office late, and then home to supper, after writing letters, and to bed. This day our cook-maid (we having no luck in maids nowadays), which was likely to prove a good servant, though none of the best cooks, fell sick and is gone to her friends, having been with us but 4 days.
. This morning, about two or three o’clock, knocked up in our back yard, and rising to the window, being moonshine, I found it was the constable and his watch, who had found our back yard door open, and so came in to see what the matter was. So I desired them to shut the door, and bid them good night, and so to bed again, and at 6 o’clock up and a while to my viol, and then to the office, where all the morning upon the victualler’s accounts, and then with him to dinner at the Dolphin, where I eat well but drank no wine neither; which keeps me in such good order that I am mightily pleased with myself for it. Hither Mr. Moore came to me, and he and I home and advised about business, and so after an hour’s examining the state of the Navy debts lately cast up, I took coach to Sir Philip Warwick’s, but finding Sir G. Carteret there I did not go in, but directly home, again, it raining hard, having first of all been with Creed and Mrs. Harper about a cook-maid, and am like to have one from Creed’s lodging. In my way home visited my Lord Crew and Sir Thomas, thinking they might have enquired by the by of me touching my Lord’s matters at Chelsey, but they said nothing, and so after some slight common talk I bid them good night. At home to my office, and after a while doing business home to supper and bed.
. Up betimes, and by water to Whitehall; and thence to Sir Philip Warwick,1930 and there had half an hour’s private discourse with him; and did give him some good satisfaction in our Navy matters, and he also me, as to the money paid and due to the Navy; so as he makes me assured by particulars, that Sir G. Carteret is paid within £80,000 every farthing that we to this day, nay to Michaelmas day next have demanded; and that, I am sure, is above £50,000 more than truly our expenses have been, whatever is become of the money. Home with great content that I have thus begun an acquaintance with him, who is a great man, and a man of as much business as any man in England; which I will endeavour to deserve and keep. Thence by water to my office, in here all the morning, and so to the ’Change at noon, and there by appointment met and bring home my uncle Thomas, who resolves to go with me to Brampton on Monday next. I wish he may hold his mind. I do not tell him, and yet he believes that there is a Court to be that he is to do some business for us there. The truth is I do find him a much more cunning fellow than I ever took him for, nay in his very drink he has his wits about him. I took him home to dinner, and after dinner he began, after a glass of wine or two, to exclaim against Sir G. Carteret and his family in Jersey, bidding me to have a care of him, and how high, proud, false, and politic a fellow he is, and how low he has been under his command in the island. After dinner, and long discourse, he went away to meet on Monday morning, and I to my office, and thence by water to Whitehall and Westminster Hall about several businesses, and so home, and to my office writing a laborious letter about our last account to my Lord Treasurer, which took me to one o’clock in the morning,
. So that Griffin was fain to carry it to Westminster to go by express, and my other letters of import to my father and elsewhere could not go at all. To bed between one and two and slept till 8, and lay talking till 9 with great pleasure with my wife. So up and put my clothes in order against tomorrow’s journey, and then at noon at dinner, and all the afternoon almost playing and discoursing with my wife with great content, and then to my office there to put papers in order against my going. And by and by comes my uncle Wight to bid us to dinner tomorrow to a haunch of venison I sent them yesterday, given me by Mr. Povy, but I cannot go, but my wife will. Then into the garden to read my weekly vows, and then home, where at supper saying to my wife, in ordinary fondness, “Well! shall you and I never travel together again?” she took me up and offered and desired to go along with me. I thinking by that means to have her safe from harm’s way at home here, was willing enough to feign, and after some difficulties made did send about for a horse and other things, and so I think she will go. So, in a hurry getting myself and her things ready, to bed.
. Up betimes, and my wife’s mind and mine holding for her going, so she to get her ready, and I abroad to do the like for myself, and so home, and after setting everything at my office and at home in order, by coach to Bishop’s Gate, it being a very promising fair day. There at the Dolphin we met my uncle Thomas and his son-in-law, which seems a very sober man, and Mr. Moore. So Mr. Moore and my wife set out before, and my uncle and I stayed for his son Thomas, who, by a sudden resolution, is preparing to go with us, which makes me fear something of mischief which they design to do us. He staying a great while, the old man and I before, and about eight miles off, his son comes after us, and about six miles further we overtake Mr. Moore and my wife, which makes me mightily consider what a great deal of ground is lost in a little time, when it is to be got up again by another, that is to go his own ground and the other’s too; and so after a little bait (I paying all the reckonings the whole journey) at Ware, to Buntingford, where my wife, by drinking some cold beer, being hot herself, presently after ’lighting, begins to be sick, and became so pale, and I alone with her in a great chamber there, that I thought she would have died, and so in great horror, and having a great trial of my true love and passion for her, called the maids and mistress of the house, and so with some strong water, and after a little vomit, she came to be pretty well again; and so to bed, and I having put her to bed with great content, I called in my company, and supped in the chamber by her, and being very merry in talk, supped and then parted, and I to bed and lay very well. This day my cousin Thomas dropped his hanger, and it was lost.
. Up pretty betimes and rode as far as Godmanchester, Mr. Moore having two falls, once in water and another in dirt, and there ’light and eat and drunk, being all of us very weary, but especially my uncle and wife. Thence to Brampton to my father’s, and there found all well, but not sensible how they ought to treat my uncle and his son, at least till the Court be over, which vexed me, but on my counsel they carried it fair to them; and so my father, cousin Thomas, and I up to Hinchingbroke, where I find my Lord and his company gone to Boughton, which vexed me; but there I find my Lady and the young ladies, and there I alone with my Lady two hours, she carrying me through every part of the house and gardens, which are, and will be, mighty noble indeed. Here I saw Mrs. Betty Pickering,1931 who is a very well-bred and comely lady, but very fat. Thence, without so much as drinking, home with my father and cousin, who stayed for me, and to a good supper; after I had had an hour’s talk with my father abroad in the fields, wherein he begun to talk very highly of my promises to him of giving him the profits of Sturtlow, as if it were nothing that I give him out of my purse, and that he would have me to give this also from myself to my brothers and sister; I mean Brampton and all, I think: I confess I was angry to hear him talk in that manner, and took him up roundly in it, and advised him if he could not live upon £50 per ann., which was another part of his discourse, that he would think to come and live at Tom’s again, where £50 per ann. will be a good addition to Tom’s trade, and I think that must be done when all is done. But my father spoke nothing more of it all the time I was in the country, though at the time he seemed to like it well enough. I also spoke with Piggott too this evening before I went in to supper, and doubt that I shall meet with some knots in my business tomorrow before I can do it at the Court, but I shall do my best. After supper my uncle and his son to Stankes’s to bed, which troubles me, all our father’s beds being lent to Hinchingbroke, and so my wife and I to bed, she very weary.
. Up betimes, and with my wife to Hinchingbroke to see my Lady, she being to go to my Lord this morning, and there I left her, and so back to the Court, and heard Sir R. Bernard’s charges to the Courts Baron and Leete, which took up till noon, and were worth hearing, and after putting my business into some way, went home to my father’s to dinner, and after dinner to the Court, where Sir Robert and his son came again by and by, and then to our business, and my father and I having given bond to him for the £21 Piggott owed him, my uncle Thomas did quietly admit himself and surrender to us the lands first mortgaged for our whole debt, and Sir Robert added to it what makes it up £209, to be paid in six months. But when I came to give him an account of more lands to be surrendered to us, wherein Piggott’s wife was concerned, and she there to give her consent, Sir Robert would not hear of it, but began to talk very high that we were very cruel, and we had caution enough for our money, and he could not in conscience let the woman do it, and reproached my uncle, both he and his son, with taking use upon use for this money. To all which I did give him such answers and spoke so well, and kept him so to it, that all the Court was silent to hear us, and by report since do confess they did never hear the like in the place. But he by a wile had got our bond, and I was content to have as much as I could though I could not get all, and so took Piggott’s surrender of them without his wife, and by Sir Robert’s own consent did tell the Court that if the money were not paid in the time, and the security prove not sufficient, I would conclude myself wronged by Sir Robert, which he granted I should do. This kept us till night, but am heartily glad it ended so well on my uncle’s part, he doing that and Prior’s little house very willingly. So the Court broke up, and my father and Mr. Shepley and I to Gorrum’s to drink, and then I left them, and to the Bull, where my uncle was to hear what he and the people said of our business, and here nothing but what liked me very well. So by and by home and to supper, and with my mind in pretty good quiet, to bed.
. Up, and my father being gone to bed ill last night and continuing so this morning, I was forced to come to a new consideration, whether it was fit for to let my uncle and his son go to Wisbeach about my uncle Day’s estate alone or no, and concluded it unfit; and so resolved to go with them myself, leaving my wife there, I begun a journey with them, and with much ado, through the fens, along dikes, where sometimes we were ready to have our horses sink to the belly, we got by night, with great deal of stir and hard riding, to Parson’s Drove,1932 a heathen place, where I found my uncle and aunt Perkins, and their daughters, poor wretches! in a sad, poor thatched cottage, like a poor barn, or stable, peeling of hemp, in which I did give myself good content to see their manner of preparing of hemp; and in a poor condition of habit took them to our miserable inn, and there, after long stay, and hearing of Frank, their son, the miller, play, upon his treble, as he calls it, with which he earns part of his living, and singing of a country bawdy song, we sat down to supper; the whole crew, and Frank’s wife and child, a sad company, of which I was ashamed, supped with us. And after supper I, talking with my aunt about her report concerning my uncle Day’s will and surrender, I found her in such different reports from what she writes and says to the people, and short of what I expected, that I fear little will be done of good in it. By and by news is brought to us that one of our horses is stole out of the stable, which proves my uncle’s, at which I am inwardly glad—I mean, that it was not mine; and at this we were at a great loss; and they doubting a person that lay at next door, a Londoner, some lawyer’s clerk, we caused him to be secured in his bed, and other care to be taken to seize the horse; and so about twelve at night or more, to bed in a sad, cold, nasty chamber, only the maid was indifferent handsome, and so I had a kiss or two of her, and I to bed, and a little after I was asleep they waked me to tell me that the horse was found, which was good news, and so to sleep till the morning, but was bit cruelly, and nobody else of our company, which I wonder at, by the gnatts.
. Up, and got our people together as soon as we could; and after eating a dish of cold cream, which was my supper last night too, we took leave of our beggarly company, though they seem good people, too; and over most sad Fenns, all the way observing the sad life which the people of the place which if they be born there, they do call the Breedlings1933 of the place, do live, sometimes rowing from one spot to another, and then wading, to Wisbeach,1934 a pretty town, and a fine church and library, where sundry very old abbey manuscripts; and a fine house, built on the church ground by Secretary Thurlow, and a fine gallery built for him in the church, but now all in the Bishop of Ely’s hands. After visiting the church, etc., we went out of the town, by the help of a stranger, to find out one Blinkhorne, a miller, of whom we might inquire something of old Day’s disposal of his estate, and in whose hands it now is; and by great chance we met him, and brought him to our inn to dinner; and instead of being informed in his estate by this fellow, we find that he is the next heir to the estate, which was matter, of great sport to my cousin Thomas and me, to see such a fellow prevent us in our hopes, he being Day’s brother’s daughter’s son, whereas we are but his sister’s sons and grandsons; so that, after all, we were fain to propose our matter to him, and to get him to give us leave to look after the business, and so he to have one-third part, and we two to have the other two-third parts, of what should be recovered of the estate, which he consented to; and after some discourse and paying the reckoning, we mounted again, and rode, being very merry at our defeat, to Chatteris, my uncle very weary, and after supper, and my telling of three stories, to their good liking, of spirits, we all three in a chamber went to bed.
. Up pretty betimes, and after eating something, we set out and I (being willing thereto) went by a mistake with them to St. Ives, and there, it being known that it was their nearer way to London, I took leave of them there, they going straight to London and I to Brampton, where I find my father ill in bed still, and Madam Norbery (whom and her fair daughter and sister I was ashamed to kiss, but did, my lip being sore with riding in the wind and bit with the gnatts), lately come to town, come to see my father and mother, and they after a little stay being gone, I told my father my success. And after dinner my wife and I took horse, and rode with marvellous, and the first and only hour of, pleasure, that ever I had in this estate since I had to do with it, to Brampton woods; and through the wood rode, and gathered nuts in my way, and then at Graffam to an old woman’s house to drink, where my wife used to go; and being in all circumstances highly pleased, and in my wife’s riding and good company at this time, I rode, and she showed me the river behind my father’s house, which is very pleasant, and so saw her home, and I straight to Huntingdon, and there met Mr. Shepley and to the Crown (having sent home my horse by Stankes), and there a barber came and trimmed me, and thence walked to Hinchingbroke, where my Lord and ladies all are just alighted. And so I in among them, and my Lord glad to see me, and the whole company. Here I stayed and supped with them, and after a good stay talking, but yet observing my Lord not to be so mightily engulphed in his pleasure in the country as I expected and hoped, I took leave of them, and after a walk in the courtyard in the dark with Mr. Howe, who tells me that my Lord do not enjoy himself and please himself as he used to do, but will hasten up to London, and that he is resolved to go to Chelsey again, which we are heartily grieved for and studious how to prevent if it be possible, I took horse, there being one appointed for me, and a groom to attend me, and so home, where my wife: stayed up and sister for me, and so to bed, troubled for what I hear of my Lord.
. Up, and finding my father somewhat better, walked to Huntingdon church, where in my Lord’s pew, with the young ladies, by my Lord’s own showing me the place, I stayed the sermon, and so to Hinchingbroke, walking with Mr. Shepley and Dr. King, whom they account a witty man here, as well as a good physician, and there my Lord took me with the rest of the company, and singly demanded my opinion in the walks in his garden, about the bringing of the crooked wall on the mount to a shape; and so to dinner, there being Collonel Williams and much other company, and a noble dinner. But having before got my Lord’s warrant for travelling today, there being a proclamation read yesterday against it at Huntingdon, at which I am very glad, I took leave, leaving them at dinner, and walked alone to my father’s, and there, after a word or two to my father and mother, my wife and I mounted, and, with my father’s boy, upon a horse I borrowed of Captain Ferrers, we rode to Bigglesworth1935 by the help of a couple of countrymen, that led us through the very long and dangerous waters, because of the ditches on each side, though it begun to be very dark, and there we had a good breast of mutton roasted for us, and supped, and to bed.
. Up very betimes by break of day, and got my wife up, whom the thought of this day’s long journey do discourage; and after eating something, and changing of a piece of gold to pay the reckoning, we mounted, and through Baldwicke,1936 where a fair is kept today, and a great one for cheese and other such commodities, and so to Hatfield, it being most curious weather from the time we set out to our getting home, and here we dined, and my wife being very weary, and believing that it would be hard to get her home tonight, and a great charge to keep her longer abroad, I took the opportunity of an empty coach that was to go to London, and left her to come in it to London, for half-a-crown, and so I and the boy home as fast as we could drive, and it was even night before we got home. So that I account it very good fortune that we took this course, being myself very weary, much more would my wife have been. At home found all very well and my house in good order. To see Sir W. Penn, who is pretty well, and Sir J. Minnes, who is a little lame on one foot, and the rest gone to Chatham, viz.: Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Batten, who has in my absence inveighed against my contract the other day for Warren’s masts, in which he is a knave, and I shall find matter of tryumph, but it vexes me a little. So home, and by and by comes my wife by coach well home, and having got a good fowl ready for supper against her coming, we eat heartily, and so with great content and ease to our own bed, there nothing appearing so to our content as to be at our own home, after being abroad awhile.
. I up, well refreshed after my journey, and to my office and there set some things in order, and then Sir W. Penn and I met and held an office, and at noon to dinner, and so by water with my wife to Westminster, she to see her father and mother, and we met again at my Lord’s lodgings, and thence by water home again, where at the door we met Sir W. Penn and his daughter coming to visit us, and after their visit I to my office, and after some discourse to my great satisfaction with Sir W. Warren about our bargain of masts, I wrote my letters by the post, and so home to supper and to bed. This day my wife showed me bills printed, wherein her father, with Sir John Collidon1937 and Sir Edward Ford,1938 have got a patent for curing of smoky chimneys.1939 I wish they may do good thereof, but fear it will prove but a poor project. This day the King and Queen are to come to Oxford. I hear my Lady Castlemaine is for certain gone to Oxford to meet him, having lain within here at home this week or two, supposed to have miscarried; but for certain is as great in favour as heretofore;1940 at least Mrs. Sarah at my Lord’s, who hears all from their own family, do say so. Every day brings news of the Turke’s advance into Germany, to the awaking of all the Christian Princes thereabouts, and possessing himself of Hungary. My present care is fitting my wife’s closet and my house, and making her a velvet coat, and me a new black cloth suit, and coat and cloake, and evening my reckoning as well as I can against Michaelmas Day, hoping for all that to have my balance as great or greater than ever I had yet.
. Up betimes and to my office, where setting down my journal while I was in the country to this day, and at noon by water to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined with him and Sir Thomas, thinking to have them inquire something about my Lord’s lodgings at Chelsey, or anything of that sort, but they did not, nor seem to take the least notice of it, which is their discretion, though it might be better for my Lord and them too if they did, that so we might advise together for the best, which cannot be while we seem ignorant one to another, and it is not fit for me to begin the discourse. Thence walked to several places about business and to Westminster Hall, thinking to meet Mrs. Lane, which is my great vanity upon me at present, but I must correct it. She was not in the way. So by water home and to my office, whither by and by came my brother John, who is to go to Cambridge tomorrow, and I did give him a most severe reprimand for his bad account he gives me of his studies. This I did with great passion and sharp words, which I was sorry to be forced to say, but that I think it for his good, forswearing doing anything for him, and that which I have yet, and now do give him, is against my heart, and will also be hereafter, till I do see him give me a better account of his studies. I was sorry to see him give me no answer, but, for aught I see, to hear me without great resentment, and such as I should have had: in his condition. But I have done my duty, let him do his, for I am resolved to be as good as my word. After two hours walking in the garden, till after it was dark, I ended with him and to my office, and there set some papers in order, and so to supper, and my poor wife, who is mighty busy at home; fitting her closet. So to bed.
. Up betimes, and after taking leave of my brother, John, who went from me to my father’s this day, I went forth by water to Sir Philip Warwick’s, where I was with him a pretty while; and in discourse he tells me, and made it appear to me, that the King cannot be in debt to the Navy at this time £5,000; and it is my opinion that Sir G. Carteret do owe the King money, and yet the whole Navy debt paid. Thence I parted, being doubtful of myself that I have not spoke with the gravity and weight that I ought to do in so great a business. But I rather hope it is my doubtfulness of myself, and the haste which he was in, some very great personages waiting for him without, while he was with me, that made him willing to be gone. To the office by water, where we sat doing little, now Mr. Coventry is not here, but only vex myself to see what a sort of coxcombs we are when he is not here to undertake such a business as we do. In the afternoon telling my wife that I go to Deptford, I went, by water to Westminster Hall, and there finding Mrs. Lane, took her over to Lambeth, where we were lately, and there, did what I would with her, but only the main thing, which she would not consent to, for which God be praised. … But, trust in the Lord, I shall never do so again while I live. After being tired with her company I landed her at Whitehall, and so home and at my office writing letters till 12 at night almost, and then home to supper and bed, and there found my poor wife hard at work, which grieved my heart to see that I should abuse so good a wretch, and that is just with God to make her bad with me for my wronging of her, but I do resolve never to do the like again. So to bed.
. Lay pretty long in bed, and so to my office all the morning till by and by called out by Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, with them by water to Deptford, where it of a sudden did lighten, thunder, and rain so as we could do nothing but stay in Davis’s house, and by and by Sir J. Minnes and I home again by water, and I home to dinner, and after dinner to the office, and there till night all alone, even of my clerks being there, doing of business, and so home and to bed.
. Up and to my office, and there we sat till noon, and then I to the Exchange, but did little there, but meeting Mr. Rawlinson he would needs have me home to dinner, and Mr. Deane of Woolwich being with me I took him with me, and there we dined very well at his own dinner, only no invitation, but here I sat with little pleasure, considering my wife at home alone, and so I made what haste home I could, and was forced to sit down again at dinner with her, being unwilling to neglect her by being known to dine abroad. My doing so being only to keep Deane from dining at home with me, being doubtful what I have to eat. So to the office, and there till late at night, and so home to supper and bed, being mightily pleased to find my wife so mindful of her house.
. Lay chatting with my wife a good while, then up and got me ready and to church, without my man William, whom I have not seen today, nor care, but would be glad to have him put himself far enough out of my favour that he may not wonder to have me put him away. So home to dinner, being a little troubled to see Pembleton out again, but I do not discern in my wife the least memory of him. Dined, and so to my office a little, and then to church again, where a drowsy sermon, and so home to spend the evening with my poor wife, consulting about her closet, clothes, and other things. At night to supper, though with little comfort, I finding myself both head and breast in great pain, and what troubles me most my right ear is almost deaf. It is a cold, which God Almighty in justice did give me while I sat lewdly sporting with Mrs. Lane the other day with the broken window in my neck. I went to bed with a posset, being very melancholy in consideration of the loss of my hearing.
. Up, though with pain in my head, stomach, and ear, and that deaf so as in my way by coach to Whitehall with Sir J. Minnes I called at Mr. Holliard’s, who did give me some pills, and tells me I shall have my hearing again and be well. So to Whitehall, where Sir J. Minnes and I did spend an hour in the Gallery, looking upon the pictures, in which he hath some judgment. And by and by the Commissioners for Tangier met: and there my Lord Teviott, together with Captain Cuttance, Captain Evans, and Jonas Moore, sent to that purpose, did bring us a brave draught of the Mole to be built there; and report that it is likely to be the most considerable place the King of England hath in the world; and so I am apt to think it will. After discourse of this, and of supplying the garrison with some more horse, we rose; and Sir J. Minnes and I home again, finding the street about our house full, Sir R. Ford1941 beginning his shrievalty today and, what with his and our houses being new painted, the street begins to look a great deal better than it did, and more graceful. Home and eat one bit of meat, and then by water with him and Sir W. Batten to a sale of old provisions at Deptford, which we did at Captain Boddily’s house, to the value of £600 or £700, but I am not satisfied with the method used in this thing. Then home again by water, and after a little at my office, and visit Sir W. Penn, who is not very well again, with his late pain, home to supper, being hungry, and my ear and cold not so bad I think as it was. So to bed, taking one of my pills. News that the King comes to town for certain on Thursday next from his progress.
. Took two pills more in the morning and they worked all day, and I kept the house. About noon dined, and then to carry several heavy things with my wife up and down stairs, in order to our going to lie above, and Will to come down to the Wardrobe, and that put me into a violent sweat, so I had a fire made, and then, being dry again, she and I to put up some paper pictures in the red chamber, where we go to lie very pretty, and the map of Paris. Then in the evening, towards night, it fell to thunder, lighten, and rain so violently that my house was all afloat, and I in all the rain up to the gutters, and there dabbled in the rain and wet half an hour, enough to have killed a man. That done downstairs to dry myself again, and by and by come Mr. Sympson to set up my wife’s chimneypiece in her closet, which pleases me, and so that being done, I to supper and to bed, shifting myself from top to toe, and doubtful of my doing myself hurt.
. Rose very well, and my hearing pretty well again, and so to my office, by and by Mr. Holliard come, and at my house he searched my ear, and I hope all will be well, though I do not yet hear so well as I used to do with my right ear. So to my office till noon, and then home to dinner, and in the afternoon by water to Whitehall, to the Tangier Committee; where my Lord Tiviott about his accounts; which grieves me to see that his accounts being to be examined by us, there are none of the great men at the Board that in compliment will except against anything in his accounts, and so none of the little persons dare do it: so the King is abused. Thence home again by water with Sir W. Rider, and so to my office, and there I sat late making up my month’s accounts, and, blessed be God, do find myself £760 creditor, notwithstanding that for clothes for myself and wife, and layings out on her closet, I have spent this month £47. So home, where I found our new cook-maid Elizabeth, whom my wife never saw at all, nor I but once at a distance before, but recommended well by Mr. Creed, and I hope will prove well. So to supper, prayers, and bed. This evening Mr. Coventry is come to St. James’s, but I did not go see him, and tomorrow the King, Queen, Duke and his Lady, and the whole Court comes to town from their progress. Myself and family well, only my father sicke in the country. All the common talk for news is the Turke’s advance in Hungary, etc.
October 1663
. Up and betimes to my office, and then to sit, where Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, Sir J. Minnes, Mr. Coventry and myself, a fuller board than by the King’s progress and the late pays and my absence has been a great while. Sat late, and then home to dinner. After dinner I by water to Deptford about a little business, and so back again, buying a couple of good eeles by the way, and after writing by the post, home to see the painter at work, late, in my wife’s closet, and so to supper and to bed, having been very merry with the painter, late, while he was doing his work. This day the King and Court returned from their progress.
. Up betimes and by water to St. James’s, and there visited Mr. Coventry as a compliment after his new coming to town, but had no great talk with him, he being full of business. So back by foot through London, doing several errands, and at the ’Change met with Mr. Cutler, and he and I to a coffeehouse, and there discoursed, and he do assure me that there is great likelyhood of a war with Holland, but I hope we shall be in good condition before it comes to break out. I like his company, and will make much of his acquaintance. So home to dinner with my wife, who is over head and ears in getting her house up, and so to the office, and with Mr. Lewes, late, upon some of the old victuallers’ accounts, and so home to supper and to bed, up to our red chamber, where we purpose always to lie. This day I received a letter from Mr. Barlow, with a Terella,1942 which I had hoped he had sent me, but to my trouble I find it is to present from him to my Lord Sandwich, but I will make a little use of it first, and then give it him.
. Up, being well pleased with my new lodging and the convenience of having our maids and none else about us, Will lying below. So to the office, and there we sat full of business all the morning. At noon I home to dinner, and then abroad to buy a bell to hang by our chamber door to call the maids. Then to the office, and met Mr. Blackburne, who came to know the reason of his kinsman (my Will) his being observed by his friends of late to droop much. I told him my great displeasure against him and the reasons of it, to his great trouble yet satisfaction, for my care over him, and how everything I said was for the good of the fellow, and he will take time to examine the fellow about all, and to desire my pleasure concerning him, which I told him was either that he should became a better servant or that we would not have him under my roof to be a trouble. He tells me in a few days he will come to me again and we shall agree what to do therein. I home and told my wife all, and am troubled to see that my servants and others should be the greatest trouble I have in the world, more than for myself. We then to set up our bell with a smith very well, and then I late at the office. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church, my house being miserably overflooded with rain last night, which makes me almost mad. At home to dinner with my wife, and so to talk, and to church again, and so home, and all the evening most pleasantly passed the time in good discourse of our fortune and family till supper, and so to bed, in some pain below, through cold got.
. Up with pain, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to the Temple, and then I to my brother’s, and up and down on business, and so to the New Exchange, and there met Creed, and he and I walked two or three hours, talking of many businesses, especially about Tangier, and my Lord Tiviot’s bringing in of high accounts, and yet if they were higher are like to pass without exception, and then of my Lord Sandwich sending a messenger to know whether the King intends to come to Newmarket, as is talked, that he may be ready to entertain him at Hinchingbroke. Thence home and dined, and my wife all day putting up her hangings in her closet, which she do very prettily herself with her own hand, to my great content. So I to the office till night, about several businesses, and then went and sat an hour or two with Sir W. Penn, talking very largely of Sir J. Minnes’s simplicity and unsteadiness, and of Sir W. Batten’s suspicious dealings, wherein I was open, and he sufficiently, so that I do not care for his telling of tales, for he said as much, but whether that were so or no I said nothing but what is my certain knowledge and belief concerning him. Thence home to bed in great pain.
. Slept pretty well, and my wife waked to ring the bell to call up our maids to the washing about 4 o’clock, and I was and she angry that our bell did not wake them sooner, but I will get a bigger bell. So we to sleep again till 8 o’clock, and then I up in some ease to the office, where we had a full board, where we examined Cocke’s second account, when Mr. Turner had drawn a bill directly to be paid the balance thereof, as Mr. Cocke demanded, and Sir J. Minnes did boldly assert the truth of it, and that he had examined it, when there is no such thing, but many vouchers, upon examination, missing, and we saw reason to strike off several of his demands, and to bring down his 5 percent commission to 3 percent. So we shall save the King some money, which both the Comptroller and his clerke had absolutely given away. There was also two occasions more of difference at the table; the one being to make out a bill to Captain Smith for his salary abroad as commander-in-chief in the Streights. Sir J. Minnes did demand an increase of salary for his being Vice-Admiral in the Downs, he having received but 40s. without an increase, when Sir J. Lawson, in the same voyage, had £3, and others have also had increase, only he, because he was an officer of the board, was worse used than anybody else, and particularly told Sir W. Batten that he was the opposer formerly of his having an increase, which I did wonder to hear him so boldly lay it to him. So we hushed up the dispute, and offered, if he would, to examine precedents, and report them, if there was anything to his advantage to be found, to the Duke. The next was, Mr. Chr. Pett and Deane were summoned to give an account of some knees1943 which Pett reported bad, that were to be served in by Sir W. Warren, we having contracted that none should be served but such as were to be approved of by our officers. So that if they were bad they were to be blamed for receiving them. Thence we fell to talk of Warren’s other goods, which Pett had said were generally bad, and falling to this contract again, I did say it was the most cautious and as good a contract as had been made here, and the only [one] that had been in such terms. Sir J. Minnes told me angrily that Winter’s timber, bought for 33s. per load, was as good and in the same terms. I told him that it was not so, but that he and Sir W. Batten were both abused, and I would prove it was as dear a bargain as had been made this half year, which occasioned high words between them and me, but I am able to prove it and will. That also was so ended, and so to other business. At noon Lewellin coming to me I took him and Deane, and there met my uncle Thomas, and we dined together, but was vexed that, it being washing-day, we had no meat dressed, but sent to the Cook’s, and my people had so little wit to send in our meat from abroad in that Cook’s dishes, which were marked with the name of the Cook upon them, by which, if they observed anything, they might know it was not my own dinner. After dinner we broke up, and I by coach, setting down Luellin in Cheapside. So to Whitehall, where at the Committee of Tangier, but, Lord! how I was troubled to see my Lord Tiviott’s accounts of £10,000 paid in that manner, and wish 1,000 times I had not been there. Thence rose with Sir G. Carteret and to his lodgings, and there discoursed of our frays at the table today, and particularly of that of the contract, and the contract of masts the other day, declaring my fair dealing, and so needing not any man’s good report of it, or word for it, and that I would make it so appear to him, if he desired it, which he did, and I will do it. Thence home by water in great pain, and at my office a while, and thence a little to Sir W. Penn, and so home to bed, and finding myself beginning to be troubled with wind as I used to be, and in pain in making water, I took a couple of pills that I had by me of Mr. Hollyard’s.
. They wrought in the morning, and I did keep my bed, and my pain continued on me mightily that I kept within all day in great pain, and could break no wind nor have any stool after my physic had done working. So in the evening I took coach and to Mr. Holliard’s, but he was not at home, and so home again, and whether the coach did me good or no I know not. … So to bed and lay in good ease all night, and … pretty well to the morning. …1944
. So, keeping myself warm, to the office, and at noon home to dinner, my pain coming again by breaking no wind nor having any stool. So to Mr. Holliard, and by his direction, he assuring me that it is nothing of the stone, but only my constitution being costive, and that, and cold from without, breeding and keeping the wind, I took some powder that he did give me in white wine, and sat late up, till past eleven at night, with my wife in my chamber till it had done working, which was so weakly that I could hardly tell whether it did work or no. My maids being at this time in great dirt towards getting of all my house clean, and weary and having a great deal of work to do therein tomorrow and next day, were gone to bed before my wife and I, who also do lie in our room more like beasts than Christians, but that is only in order to having of the house shortly in a cleaner, or rather very clean condition. Some ease I had so long as this did keep my body loose, and I slept well.
. And did keep my bed most of this morning, my body I find being still bound and little wind, and so my pain returned again, though not so bad, but keeping my body with warm clothes very hot I made shift to endure it, and at noon sent word to Mr. Hollyard of my condition, that I could neither have a natural stool nor break wind, and by that means still in pain and frequent offering to make water. So he sent me two bottles of drink and some syrup, one bottle to take now and the other tomorrow morning. So in the evening, after Commissioner Pett, who came to visit me, and was going to Chatham, but methinks do talk to me in quite another manner, doubtfully and shyly, and like a stranger, to what he did heretofore. After I saw he was gone I did drink one of them, but it was a most loathsome draught, and did keep myself warm after it, and had that afternoon still a stool or two, but in no plenty, nor any wind almost carried away, and so to bed. In no great pain, but do not think myself likely to be well till I have a freedom of stool and wind. Most of this day and afternoon my wife and I did spend together in setting things now up and in order in her closet, which indeed is, and will be, when I can get her some more things to put in it, a very pleasant place, and is at present very pretty, and such as she, I hope, will find great content in. So to bed.
. Up, and not in any good ease yet, but had pain in making water, and some course. I see I must take besides keeping myself warm to make myself break wind and go freely to stool before I can be well, neither of which I can do yet, though I have drank the other bottle of Mr. Hollyard’s against my stomach this morning. I did, however, make shift to go to the office, where we sat, and there Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten did advise me to take some juniper water, and Sir W. Batten sent to his Lady for some for me, strong water made of juniper. Whether that or anything else of my draught this morning did it I cannot tell, but I had a couple of stools forced after it … but whether I shall grow better upon it I cannot tell. Dined at home at noon, my wife and house in the dirtiest pickle that ever she and it was in almost, but in order, I hope, this night to be very clean. To the office all the afternoon upon victualling business, and late at it, so after I wrote by the post to my father, I home. This evening Mr. Hollyard sends me an electuary to take (a walnut quantity of it) going to bed, which I did. ’Tis true I slept well, and rose in a little ease in the morning.
. And was mightily pleased to see my house clean and in good condition, but something coming into my wife’s head, and mine, to be done more about bringing the green bed into our chamber, which is handsomer than the red one, though not of the colour of our hangings, my wife forebore to make herself clean today, but continued in a sluttish condition till tomorrow. I after the old passe, all the day within doors, … the effect of my electuary last night, and the greatest of my pain I find to come by my straining. … For all this I eat with a very good stomach, and as much as I use to do, and so I did this noon, and stayed at home discoursing and doing things in my chamber, altering chairs in my chamber, and set them above in the red room, they being Turkey work, and so put their green covers upon those that were above, not so handsome. At night fell to reading in the Church History of Fuller’s, and particularly Cranmer’s letter to Queen Elizabeth,1945 which pleases me mightily for his zeal, obedience, and boldness in a cause of religion. After supper to bed as I use to be, in pain. …
. Up (though slept well) and made some water in the morning [as] I used to do, and a little pain returned to me, and some fears, but being forced to go to the Duke at St. James’s, I took coach and in my way called upon Mr. Hollyard and had his advice to take a glyster. At St. James’s we attended the Duke all of us. And there, after my discourse, Mr. Coventry of his own accord begun to tell the Duke how he found that discourse abroad did run to his prejudice about the fees that he took, and how he sold places and other things; wherein he desired to appeal to his Highness, whether he did anything more than what his predecessors did, and appealed to us all. So Sir G. Carteret did answer that some fees were heretofore taken, but what he knows not; only that selling of places never was nor ought to be countenanced. So Mr. Coventry very hotly answered to Sir G. Carteret, and appealed to himself whether he was not one of the first that put him upon looking after this taking of fees, and that he told him that Mr. Smith1946 should say that he made £5,000 the first year, and he believed he made £7,000. This Sir G. Carteret denied, and said, that if he did say so he told a lie, for he could not, nor did know, that ever he did make that profit of his place; but that he believes he might say £2,500 the first year. Mr. Coventry instanced in another thing, particularly wherein Sir G. Carteret did advise with him about the selling of the Auditor’s place of the stores, when in the beginning there was an intention of creating such an office. This he confessed, but with some lessening of the tale Mr. Coventry told, it being only for a respect to my Lord FitzHarding.1947 In fine, Mr. Coventry did put into the Duke’s hand a list of above 250 places that he did give without receiving one farthing, so much as his ordinary fees for them, upon his life and oath; and that since the Duke’s establishment of fees he had never received one token more of any man; and that in his whole life he never conditioned or discoursed of any consideration from any commanders since he came to the Navy. And afterwards, my Lord Barkeley merrily discoursing that he wished his profit greater than it was, and that he did believe that he had got £50,000 since he came in, Mr. Coventry did openly declare that his Lordship, or any of us, should have not only all he had got, but all that he had in the world (and yet he did not come a beggar into the Navy, nor would yet be thought to speak in any contempt of his Royal Highness’s bounty), and should have a year to consider of it too, for £25,000. The Duke’s answer was, that he wished we all had made more profit than he had of our places, and that we had all of us got as much as one man below stairs in the Court, which he presently named, and it was Sir George Lane.1948 This being ended, and the list left in the Duke’s hand, we parted, and I with Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir W. Batten by coach to the Exchange, and there a while, and so home, and whether it be the jogging, or by having my mind more employed (which I believe is a great matter) I know not, but. … I begin to be suddenly well, at least better than I was. So home and to dinner, and thence by coach to the Old Exchange, and there cheapened some laces for my wife, and then to Mr. ⸻, the great laceman in Cheapside, and bought one cost me £4, more by 20s. than I intended, but when I came to see them I was resolved to buy one worth wearing with credit, and so to the New Exchange, and there put it to making, and so to my Lord’s lodgings and left my wife, and so I to the Committee of Tangier, and then late home with my wife again by coach, beginning to be very well, and yet when I came home … the little straining which I thought was no strain at all at the present did by and by bring me some pain for a good while. Anon, about 8 o’clock, my wife did give me a clyster which Mr. Hollyard directed, viz., a pint of strong ale, 4 oz. of sugar, and 2 oz. of butter. It lay while I lay upon the bed above an hour, if not two, and then thinking it quite lost I rose, and by and by it began with my walking to work, and gave me three or four most excellent stools and carried away wind, put me in excellent ease, and taking my usual walnut quantity of electuary at my going into bed I had about two stools in the night. …
. And so rose in the morning in perfect good ease … continued all the morning well, and in the afternoon had a natural easily and dry stoole, the first I have had these five days or six, for which God be praised, and so am likely to continue well, observing for the time to come when any of this pain comes again:
To begin to keep myself as warm as I can.
Strain as little as ever I can backwards, remembering that my pain will come by and by, though in the very straining I do not feel it.
Either by physic forward or by clyster backward or both ways to get an easy and plentiful going to stool and breaking of wind.
To begin to suspect my health immediately when I begin to become costive and bound, and by all means to keep my body loose, and that to obtain presently after I find myself going the contrary.
This morning at the office, and at noon with Creed to the Exchange, where much business, but, Lord! how my heart, though I know not reason for it, began to doubt myself, after I saw Stint, Field’s one-eyed solicitor, though I know not anything that they are doing, or that they endeavour anything further against us in the business till the terme. Home, and Creed with me to dinner, and after dinner John Cole, my old friend, came to see and speak with me about a friend. I find him ingenious, but more and more discern his city pedantry; but however, I will endeavour to have his company now and then, for that he knows much of the temper of the City, and is able to acquaint therein as much as most young men, being of large acquaintance, and himself, I think, somewhat unsatisfied with the present state of things at Court and in the Church. Then to the office, and there busy till late, and so home to my wife, with some ease and pleasure that I hope to be able to follow my business again, which by God’s leave I am resolved to return to with more and more eagerness. I find at Court, that either the King is doubtful of some disturbance, or else would seem so (and I have reason to hope it is no worse), by his commanding all commanders of castles, etc., to repair to their charges; and mustering the Guards the other day himself, where he found reason to dislike their condition to my Lord Gerard, finding so many absent men, or dead pays.1949 My Lady Castlemaine, I hear, is in as great favour as ever, and the King supped with her the very first night he came from Bath: and last night and the night before supped with her; when there being a chine of beef to roast, and the tide rising into their kitchen that it could not be roasted there, and the cook telling her of it, she answered, “Zounds! she must set the house on fire but it should be roasted!” So it was carried to Mrs. Sarah’s husband’s,1950 and there it was roasted. So home to supper and to bed, being mightily pleased with all my house and my red chamber, where my wife and I intend constantly to lie, and the having of our dressing room and maids close by us without any interfering or trouble.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, and part of it Sir J. Minnes spent, as he do everything else, like a fool, reading the Anatomy of the body to me, but so sillily as to the making of me understand anything that I was weary of him, and so I toward the ’Change and met with Mr. Grant, and he and I to the Coffeehouse, where I understand by him that Sir W. Petty and his vessel are coming, and the King intends to go to Portsmouth to meet it. Thence home and after dinner my wife and I, by Mr. Rawlinson’s conduct, to the Jewish Synagogue: where the men and boys in their veils, and the women behind a lattice out of sight; and some things stand up, which I believe is their Law, in a press to which all coming in do bow; and at the putting on their veils do say something, to which others that hear him do cry Amen, and the party do kiss his veil. Their service all in a singing way, and in Hebrew. And anon their Laws that they take out of the press are carried by several men, four or five several burdens in all, and they do relieve one another; and whether it is that everyone desires to have the carrying of it, I cannot tell, thus they carried it round about the room while such a service is singing. And in the end they had a prayer for the King, which they pronounced his name in Portugal; but the prayer, like the rest, in Hebrew. But, Lord! to see the disorder, laughing, sporting, and no attention, but confusion in all their service, more like brutes than people knowing the true God, would make a man forswear ever seeing them more and indeed I never did see so much, or could have imagined there had been any religion in the whole world so absurdly performed as this. Away thence with my mind strongly disturbed with them, by coach and set down my wife in Westminster Hall, and I to Whitehall, and there the Tangier Committee met, but the Duke and the Africa Committee meeting in our room, Sir G. Carteret; Sir W. Compton, Mr. Coventry, Sir W. Rider, Cuttance and myself met in another room, with chairs set in form but no table, and there we had very fine discourses of the business of the fitness to keep Sally, and also of the terms of our King’s paying the Portuguese that deserted their house at Tangier, which did much please me, and so to fetch my wife, and so to the New Exchange about her things, and called at Thomas Pepys the turner’s and bought something there, and so home to supper and to bed, after I had been a good while with Sir W. Penn, railing and speaking freely our minds against Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, but no more than the folly of one and the knavery of the other do deserve.
. Up, I bless God being now in pretty good condition, but cannot come to make natural stools yet. … So up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon dined at home, my head full of business, and after stepping abroad to buy a thing or two, compasses and snuffers for my wife, I returned to my office and there mighty busy till it was late, and so home well contented with the business that I had done this afternoon, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning doing business, and at noon home to dinner, and then up to remove my chest and clothes upstairs to my new wardrobe, that I may have all my things above where I lie, and so by coach abroad with my wife, leaving her at my Lord’s till I went to the Tangier Committee, where very good discourse concerning the Articles of peace to be continued with Guyland, and thence took up my wife, and with her to her tailor’s, and then to the Exchange and to several places, and so home and to my office, where doing some business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, and there we sat a very full board all the morning upon some accounts of Mr. Gauden’s. Here happened something concerning my Will which Sir W. Batten would fain charge upon him, and I heard him mutter something against him of complaint for his often receiving people’s money to Sir G. Carteret, which displeased me much, but I will be even with him. Thence to the Dolphin Tavern, and there Mr. Gauden did give us a great dinner. Here we had some discourse of the Queen’s being very sick, if not dead, the Duke and Duchess of York being sent for betimes this morning to come to Whitehall to her.1951 So to my office and there late doing business, and so home to supper, my house being got mighty clean to my great content from top to toe, and so to bed, myself beginning to be in good condition of health also, but only my laying out so much money upon clothes for myself and wife and her closet troubles me.
. Up, and troubled at a distaste my wife took at a small thing that Jane did, and to see that she should be so vexed that I took part with Jane, wherein I had reason; but by and by well again, and so my wife in her best gown and new poynt that I bought her the other day, to church with me, where she has not been these many weeks, and her maid Jane with her. I was troubled to see Pembleton there, but I thought it prudence to take notice myself first of it and show my wife him, and so by little and little considering that it mattered not much his being there I grew less concerned and so mattered it not much, and the less when, anon, my wife showed me his wife, a pretty little woman, and well dressed, with a good jewel at her breast. The parson, Mr. Mills, I perceive, did not know whether to pray for the Queen or no, and so said nothing about her; which makes me fear she is dead. But enquiring of Sir J. Minnes, he told me that he heard she was better last night. So home to dinner, and Tom came and dined with me, and so, anon, to church again, and there a simple coxcomb preached worse than the Scot, and no Pembleton nor his wife there, which pleased me not a little, and then home and spent most of the evening at Sir W. Penn’s in complaisance, seeing him though he deserves no respect from me. This evening came my uncle Wight to speak with me about my uncle Thomas’s business, and Mr. Moore came, 4 or 5 days out of the country and not come to see me before, though I desired by two or three messengers that he would come to me as soon as he came to town. Which do trouble me to think he should so soon forget my kindness to him, which I am afraid he do. After walking a good while in the garden with these, I went up again to Sir W. Penn, and took my wife home, and after supper to prayers, and read very seriously my vowes, which I am fearful of forgetting by my late great expenses, but I hope in God I do not, and so to bed.
. Waked with a very high wind, and said to my wife, “I pray God I hear not of the death of any great person, this wind is so high!” fearing that the Queen might be dead. So up; and going by coach with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to St. James’s, they tell me that Sir W. Compton, who it is true had been a little sickly for a week or fortnight, but was very well upon Friday at night last at the Tangier Committee with us, was dead—died yesterday: at which I was most exceedingly surprised, he being, and so all the world saying that he was, one of the worthyest men and best officers of State now in England; and so in my conscience he was: of the best temper, valour, abilities of mind, integrity, birth, fine person, and diligence of any one man he hath left behind him in the three kingdoms; and yet not forty years old, or if so, that is all.1952 I find the sober men of the Court troubled for him; and yet not so as to hinder or lessen their mirth, talking, laughing, and eating, drinking, and doing everything else, just as if there was no such thing, which is as good an instance for me hereafter to judge of death, both as to the unavoidableness, suddenness, and little effect of it upon the spirits of others, let a man be never so high, or rich, or good; but that all die alike, no more matter being made of the death of one than another, and that even to die well, the praise of it is not considerable in the world, compared to the many in the world that know not nor make anything of it, nor perhaps to them (unless to one that like this poor gentleman, who is one of a thousand, there nobody speaking ill of him) that will speak ill of a man. Coming to St. James’s, I hear that the Queen did sleep five hours pretty well tonight, and that she waked and gargled her mouth, and to sleep again; but that her pulse beats fast, beating twenty to the King’s or my Lady Suffolk’s eleven; but not so strong as it was. It seems she was so ill as to be shaved and pidgeons put to her feet, and to have the extreme unction given her by the priests, who were so long about it that the doctors were angry.1953 The King, they all say; is most fondly disconsolate for her, and weeps by her, which makes her weep;1954 which one this day told me he reckons a good sign, for that it carries away some rheume from the head. This morning Captain Allen tells me how the famous Ned Mullins, by a slight fall, broke his leg at the ankle, which festered; and he had his leg cut off on Saturday, but so ill done, notwithstanding all the great chirurgeons about the town at the doing of it, that they fear he will not live with it, which is very strange, besides the torment he was put to with it. After being a little with the Duke, and being invited to dinner to my Lord Barkeley’s, and so, not knowing how to spend our time till noon, Sir W. Batten and I took coach, and to the Coffeehouse in Cornhill;1955 where much talk about the Turk’s proceedings, and that the plague is got to Amsterdam, brought by a ship from Argier; and it is also carried to Hambrough. The Duke says the King purposes to forbid any of their ships coming into the river. The Duke also told us of several Christian commanders (French) gone over to the Turks to serve them; and upon inquiry I find that the King of France do by this aspire to the Empire, and so to get the Crown of Spain also upon the death of the King, which is very probable, it seems. Back to St. James’s, and there dined with my Lord Barkeley and his lady, where Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Batten, and myself, with two gentlemen more; my Lady, and one of the ladies of honour to the Duchess (no handsome woman, but a most excellent hand). A fine French dinner, and so we after dinner broke up and to Creed’s new lodgings in Axe-yard, which I like very well and so with him to Whitehall and walked up and down in the galleries with good discourse, and anon Mr. Coventry and Povy, sad for the loss of one of our number we sat down as a Committee for Tangier and did some business and so broke up, and I down with Mr. Coventry and in his chamber discoursing of business of the office and Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten’s carriage, when he most ingeniously tells me how they have carried themselves to him in forbearing to speak the other day to the Duke what they know they have so largely at other times said to him, and I told him what I am put to about the bargain for masts. I perceive he thinks of it all and will remember it. Thence took up my wife at Mrs. Harper’s where she and Jane were, and so called at the New Exchange for some things for her, and then at Tom’s went up and saw his house now it is finished, and indeed it is very handsome, but he not within and so home and to my office; and then to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat; and at noon Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, and I to dinner to my Lord Mayor’s, being invited, where was the Farmers of the Customes, my Lord Chancellor’s three sons, and other great and much company, and a very great noble dinner, as this Mayor1956 is good for nothing else. No extraordinary discourse of anything, every man being intent upon his dinner, and myself willing to have drunk some wine to have warmed my belly, but I did for my oath’s sake willingly refrain it, but am so well pleased and satisfied afterwards thereby, for it do keep me always in so good a frame of mind that I hope I shall not ever leave this practice. Thence home, and took my wife by coach to Whitehall, and she set down at my Lord’s lodgings, I to a Committee of Tangier, and thence with her homeward, calling at several places by the way. Among others at Paul’s Churchyard, and while I was in Kirton’s shop, a fellow came to offer kindness or force to my wife in the coach, but she refusing, he went away, after the coachman had struck him, and he the coachman. So I being called, went thither, and the fellow coming out again of a shop, I did give him a good cuff or two on the chops, and seeing him not oppose me, I did give him another; at last found him drunk, of which I was glad, and so left him, and home, and so to my office awhile, and so home to supper and to bed. This evening, at my Lord’s lodgings, Mrs. Sarah talking with my wife and I how the Queen do, and how the King tends her being so ill. She tells us that the Queen’s sickness is the spotted fever; that she was as full of the spots as a leopard which is very strange that it should be no more known; but perhaps it is not so. And that the King do seem to take it much to heart, for that he hath wept before her;1957 but, for all that; that he hath not missed one night since she was sick, of supping with my Lady Castlemaine; which I believe is true, for she [Sarah] says that her husband hath dressed the suppers every night; and I confess I saw him myself coming through the street dressing of a great supper tonight, which Sarah says is also for the King and her; which is a very strange thing.
. Up, and by and by comes my brother Tom to me, though late (which do vex me to the blood that I could never get him to come time enough to me, though I have spoke a hundred times; but he is very sluggish, and too negligent ever to do well at his trade I doubt), and having lately considered with my wife very much of the inconvenience of my going in no better plight, we did resolve of putting me into a better garb, and, among other things, to have a good velvet cloake; that is, of cloth lined with velvet and other things modish, and a perruque, and so I sent him and her out to buy me velvet, and I to the Exchange, and so to Trinity House, and there dined with Sir W. Batten, having some business to speak with him, and Sir W. Rider. Thence, having my belly full, away on foot to my brother’s, all along Thames Street, and my belly being full of small beer, I did all alone, for health’s sake, drink half a pint of Rhenish wine at the Still-yard, mixed with beer. From my brother’s with my wife to the Exchange, to buy things for her and myself, I being in a humour of laying out money, but not prodigally, but only in clothes, which I every day see that I suffer for want of, I so home, and after a little at my office, home to supper and to bed. Memorandum: This morning one Mr. Commander, a scrivener, came to me from Mr. Moore with a deed of which. Mr. Moore had told me, that my Lord had made use of my name, and that I was desired by my Lord to sign it. Remembering this very well, though understanding little of the particulars, I read it over, and found it concern Sir Robt. Bernard and Duckinford, their interest in the manor of Brampton. So I did sign it, declaring to Mr. Commander that I am only concerned in having my name at my Lord Sandwich’s desire used therein, and so I sealed it up after I had signed and sealed the deed, and desired him to give it so sealed to Mr. Moore. I did also call at the Wardrobe this afternoon to have told Mr. Moore of it, but he was not within, but knowing Mr. Commander to have the esteem of a good and honest man with my Lord Crew, I did not doubt to entrust him with the deed after I had signed it. This evening after I came home I begun to enter my wife in arithmetic, in order to her studying of the globes, and she takes it very well, and, I hope, with great pleasure, I shall bring her to understand many fine things.
. Up to the office, where we sat till noon and then I home to dinner, and after dinner with my wife to her study and there read some more arithmetic, which she takes with great ease and pleasure. This morning, hearing that the Queen grows worse again, I sent to stop the making of my velvet cloake, till I see whether she lives or dies. So a little abroad about several businesses, and then home and to my office till night, and then home to supper, teach my wife, and so to bed.
. Up, and this morning comes Mr. Clerke, and tells me that the Injunction against Trice is dismissed again, which troubles me much. So I am to look after it in the afternoon. There comes also by appointment my uncle Thomas, to receive the first payment of his daughter’s money. But showing of me the original of the deed by which his daughter gives her right to her legacy to him, and the copy of it attested by the Scrivener, for me to keep by me, I did find some difference, and thereupon did look more into it, and at last did find the whole thing a forgery; yet he maintained it again and again, upon oath, that it had been signed and sealed by my cousin Mary ever since before her marriage. So I told him to his teeth he did like a knave, and so he did, and went with him to the Scrivener at Bedlam, and there found how it came to pass, viz., that he had lost, or pretends to have lost, the true original, and that so he was forced to take this course; but a knave, at least a man that values not what he swears to, I perceive he is. But however I am now better able to see myself fully secured before I part with the money, for I find that his son Charles has right to this legacy till the first £100 of his daughter’s portion be paid, he being bond for it. So I put him upon getting both his sons to be bound for my security, and so left him and so home, and then abroad to my brother’s, but found him abroad at the young couple that was married yesterday, and he one of the Br[ide’s] men, a kinswoman (Brumfield)1958 of the Joyces married to an upholster. Thence walked to the King’s Head at Charing Cross and there dined, and hear that the Queen slept pretty well last night, but her fever continues upon her still. It seems she hath never a Portuguese doctor here. Thence by appointment to the Six Clerks’ office to meet Mr. Clerke, which I did and there waited all the afternoon for Wilkinson my attorney, but he came not, and so vexed and weary we parted, and I endeavoured but in vain to have found Dr. Williams, of whom I shall have use in Trice’s business, but I could not find him. So weary walked home; in my way bought a large kitchen knife and half dozen oyster knives. Thence to Mr. Holliard, who tells me that Mullins is dead of his leg cut off the other day, but most basely done. He tells me that there is no doubt but that all my slime do come away in my water, and therefore no fear of the stone; but that my water being so slimy is a good sign. He would have me now and then to take a clyster, the same I did the other day, though I feel no pain, only to keep me loose, and instead of butter, which he would have to be salt butter, he would have me sometimes use two or three ounces of honey, at other times two or three ounces of Linseed oil. Thence to Mr. Rawlinson’s and saw some of my new bottles made, with my crest upon them, filled with wine, about five or six dozen. So home and to my office a little, and thence home to prepare myself against T. Trice, and also to draw a bond fit for my uncle and his sons to enter into before I pay them the money. That done to bed.
. Up and to my office, where busy all the morning about Mr. Gauden’s account, and at noon to dinner with him at the Dolphin, where mighty merry by pleasant stories of Mr. Coventry’s and Sir J. Minnes’s, which I have put down some of in my book of tales. Just as I was going out my uncle Thomas came to the with a draught of a bond for him and his sons to sign to me about the payment of the £20 legacy, which I agreed to, but he would fain have had from me the copy of the deed, which he had forged and did bring me yesterday, but I would not give him it. Says [he] I perceive then you will keep it to defame me with, and desired me not to speak of it, for he did it innocently. Now I confess I do not find any great hurt in the thing, but only to keep from me a sight of the true original deed, wherein perhaps there was something else that may touch this business of the legacy which he would keep from me, or it may be, it is really lost as he says it is. But then he need not have used such a slight, but confess it without danger. Thence by coach with Mr. Coventry to the Temple, and thence I to the Six Clerks’ office, and discoursed with my Attorney and Solicitor, and he and I to Mr. Turner, who puts me in great fear that I shall not get retayned again against Tom Trice; which troubles me. Thence, it being night, homewards, and called at Wotton’s and tried some shoes, but he had none to fit me. He tells me that by the Duke of York’s persuasion Harris is come again to Sir W. Davenant upon his terms that he demanded, which will make him very high and proud. Thence to another shop, and there bought me a pair of shoes, and so walked home and to my office, and dispatch letters by the post, and so home to supper and to bed, where to my trouble I find my wife begin to talk of her being alone all day, which is nothing but her lack of something to do, for while she was busy she never, or seldom, complained. … The Queen is in a good way of recovery; and Sir Francis Pridgeon1959 hath got great honour by it, it being all imputed to his cordiall, which in her despair did give her rest and brought her to some hopes of recovery. It seems that, after the much talk of troubles and a plot, something is found in the North that a party was to rise, and some persons that were to command it are found, as I find in a letter that Mr. Coventry read today about it from those parts.1960
. Up, and my wife and I to church, where it is strange to see how the use and seeing Pembleton come with his wife thither to church, I begin now to make too great matter of it, which before was so terrible to me. Dined at home, my wife and I alone, a good dinner, and so in the afternoon to church again, where the Scot preached, and I slept most of the afternoon. So home, and my wife and I together all the evening discoursing, and then after reading my vowes to myself, and my wife with her maids (who are mighty busy to get it dispatched because of their mistress’s promise, that when it is done they shall have leave all to go see their friends at Westminster, whither my wife will carry them) preparing for their washing tomorrow, we hastened to supper and to bed.
. Waked about one o’clock in the morning. … My wife being waked rung her bell, and the maids rose and went to washing, we to sleep again till 7 o’clock, and then up, and I abroad to look out Dr. Williams, but being gone out I went to Westminster, and there seeing my Lord Sandwich’s footman knew he was come to town, and so I went in and saw him, and received a kind salute from him, but hear that my father is very ill still. Thence to Westminster Hall with Creed, and spent the morning walking there, where, it being Terme time, I met several persons, and talked with them, among others Dr. Pierce, who tells me that the Queen is in a way to be pretty well again, but that her delirium in her head continues still; that she talks idle, not by fits, but always, which in some lasts a week after so high a fever, in some more, and in some forever; that this morning she talked mightily that she was brought to bed, and that she wondered that she should be delivered without pain and without spewing or being sicke, and that she was troubled that her boy was but an ugly boy. But the King being by, said, “No, it is a very pretty boy.”—“Nay,” says she, “if it be like you it is a fine boy indeed, and I would be very well pleased with it.” The other day she talked mightily of Sir H. Wood’s lady’s great belly, and said if she should miscarry he would never get another, and that she never saw such a man as this Sir H. Wood in her life, and seeing of Dr. Pridgeon, she said, “Nay, Doctor, you need not scratch your head, there is hair little enough already in the place.” But methinks it was not handsome for the weaknesses of Princes to be talked of thus. Thence Creed and I to the King’s Head ordinary, where much and very good company, among others one very talking man, but a scholler, that would needs put in his discourse and philosophy upon every occasion, and though he did well enough, yet his readiness to speak spoilt all. Here they say that the Turkes go on apace, and that my Lord Castlehaven1961 is going to raise 10,000 men here for to go against him; that the King of France do offer to assist the Empire upon condition that he may be their Generalissimo, and the Dolphin chosen King of the Romans: and it is said that the King of France do occasion this difference among the Christian Princes of the Empire, which gives the Turke such advantages. They say also that the King of Spain is making all imaginable force against Portugal again. Thence Creed and I to one or two periwig shops about the Temple, having been very much displeased with one that we saw, a head of greasy and old woman’s haire, at Jervas’s in the morning; and there I think I shall fit myself of one very handsomely made. Thence by coach, my mind being troubled for not meeting with Dr. Williams, to St. Catharine’s to look at a Dutch ship or two for some good handsome maps, but met none, and so back to Cornhill to Moxon’s, but it being dark we stayed not to see any, then to coach again, and presently spying Sir W. Batten; I ’light and took him in and to the Globe in Fleet Street, by appointment, where by and by he and I with our solicitor to Sir E. Turner about Field’s business, and back to the Globe, and thither I sent for Dr. Williams, and he is willing to swear in my behalf against T. Trice, viz., that at T. Trice’s desire we have met to treat about our business. Thence (I drinking no wine) after an hour’s stay Sir W. Batten and another, and he drinking, we home by coach, and so to my office and set down my Journal, and then home to supper and to bed, my washing being in a good condition over. I did give Dr. Williams 20s. tonight, but it was after he had answered me well to what I had to ask him about this business, and it was only what I had long ago in my petty bag book allotted for him besides the bill of near £4 which I paid him a good while since by my brother Tom for physic for my wife, without any consideration to this business that he is to do for me, as God shall save me. Among the rest, talking of the Emperor at table today one young gentleman, a pretty man, and it seems a Parliament man, did say that he was a sot;1962 for he minded nothing of the Government, but was led by the Jesuites. Several at table took him up, some for saying that he was a sot in being led by the Jesuites, [who] are the best counsel he can take. Another commander, a Scott[ish] Colonel, who I believe had several under him, that he was a man that had thus long kept out the Turke till now, and did many other great things, and lastly Mr. Progers,1963 one of our courtiers, who told him that it was not a thing to be said of any Sovereign Prince, be his weaknesses what they will, to be called a sot, which methinks was very prettily said.
. Up, and my uncle Thomas and his scrivener bringing me a bond and affidavit to my mind, I paid him his £20 for his daughter’s legacy, and £5 more for a Quarter’s annuity, in the manner expressed in each acquittance, to which I must be referred on any future occasion, and to the bond and affidavit. Thence to the office and there sat till noon, and then home to dinner, and after dinner (it being a foul house today among my maids, making up their clothes) abroad with my Will with me by coach to Dr. Williams, and with him to the Six Clerks’s office, and there, by advice of his acquaintance, I find that my case, through my neglect and the neglect of my lawyers, is come to be very bad, so as that it will be very hard to get my bill retayned again. However, I got him to sign and swear an affidavit that there was treaties between T. Trice and me with as much advantage as I could for me, but I will say that for him he was most exact as ever I saw man in my life, word by word what it was that he swore to, and though, God forgive me, I could have been almost naturally willing to have let him ignorantly have sworn to something that was not of itself very certain, either or no, yet out of his own conscience and care he altered the words himself so as to make them very safe for him to swear. This I carrying to my clerk Wilkinson, and telling him how I heard matters to stand, he, like a conceited fellow, made nothing of it but advised me to offer Trice’s clerks the cost of the dismission, viz., 46s. 8d., which I did, but they would not take it without his client. Immediately thereupon we parted, and met T. Trice coming into the room, and he came to me and served me with a subpœnâ for these very costs, so I paid it him, but Lord! to see his resolution, and indeed discretion, in the wording of his receipt, he would have it most express to my greatest disadvantage that could be, yet so as I could not deny to give it him. That being paid, my clerke, and then his began to ask why we could not think, being friends, of referring it, or stating it, first ourselves, and then put it to some good lawyer to judge in it. From one word to more we were resolved to try, and to that end to step to the Pope’s Head Tavern, and there he and his Clerke and Attorney and I and my Clerke, and sent for Mr. Smallwood, and by and by comes Mr. Clerke, my Solicitor, and after I had privately discoursed with my men and seen how doubtfully they talked, and what future certain charge and trouble it would be, with a doubtful victory, I resolved to condescend very low, and after some talk all together Trice and I retired, and he came to £150 the lowest, and I bid him £80. So broke off and then went to our company, and they putting us to a second private discourse, at last I was contented to give him £100, he to spend 40s. of it among this good company that was with us. So we went to our company, both seeming well pleased that we were come to an end, and indeed I am in the respects above said, though it be a great sum for us to part with. I am to pay him by giving him leave to buy about £40 worth of Piggott’s land and to strike off so much of Piggott’s debt, and the other to give him bond to pay him in 12 months after without interest, only giving him a power to buy more land of Piggott and paying him that way as he did for the other, which I am well enough contented with, or at least to take the land at that price and give him the money. This last I did not tell him, but I shall order it so. Having agreed upon tomorrow come sennight for the spending of the 40s. at Mr. Rawlinson’s, we parted, and I set T. Trice down in Paul’s Churchyard and I by coach home and to my office, and there set down this day’s passages, and so home to supper and to bed. Mr. Coventry tells me today that the Queen had a very good night last night; but yet it is strange that still she raves and talks of little more than of her having of children, and fancies now that she hath three children, and that the girl is very like the King. And this morning about five o’clock waked (the physician feeling her pulse, thinking to be better able to judge, she being still and asleep, waked her) and the first word she said was, “How do the children?”
. Up and at my office all the morning, and at noon Mr. Creed came to me and dined with me, and after dinner Murford came to me and he and I discoursed wholly upon his breach of contract with us. After that Mr. Creed and I abroad, I doing several errands, and with him at last to the great coffeehouse, and there after some common discourse we parted and I home, paying what I owed at the Mitre in my way, and at home Sympson the joiner coming he set up my press for my cloaks and other small things, and so to my office a little, and to supper, and to bed. This morning Mr. Blackburne came to me, and telling me what complaints Will made of the usage he had from my wife and other discouragements, and, I seeing him, instead of advising, rather favouring his kinsman, I told him freely my mind, but friendlily, and so we have concluded to have him have a lodging elsewhere, and that I will spare him £15 of his salary, and if I do not need to keep another £20.
. Up, it being my Lord Mayor’s day, Sir Anthony Bateman.1964 This morning was brought home my new velvet cloake, that is, lined with velvet, a good cloth the outside, the first that ever I had in my life, and I pray God it may not be too soon now that I begin to wear it. I had it this day brought, thinking to have worn it to dinner, but I thought it would be better to go without it because of the crowde, and so I did not wear it. We met a little at the office, and then home again and got me ready to go forth, my wife being gone forth by my consent before to see her father and mother, and taken her cook-maid and little girl to Westminster with her for them to see their friends. This morning in dressing myself and wanting a band,1965 I found all my bands that were newly made clean so ill smoothed that I crumpled them, and flung them all on the ground, and was angry with Jane, which made the poor girl mighty sad, so that I were troubled for it afterwards. At noon I went forth, and by coach to Guild Hall (by the way calling at Mr. Rawlinson’s), and there was admitted, and meeting with Mr. Proby (Sir R. Ford’s son), and Lieutenant-Colonel Baron, a City commander, we went up and down to see the tables; where under every salt there was a bill of fare, and at the end of the table the persons proper for the table. Many were the tables, but none in the Hall but the Mayor’s and the Lords of the Privy Council that had napkins1966 or knives, which was very strange. We went into the Buttry, and there stayed and talked, and then into the Hall again: and there wine was offered and they drunk, I only drinking some hypocras, which do not break my vowe, it being, to the best of my present judgement, only a mixed compound drink, and not any wine.1967 If I am mistaken, God forgive me! but I hope and do think I am not. By and by met with Creed; and we, with the others, went within the several Courts, and there saw the tables prepared for the Ladies and Judges and Bishops: all great sign of a great dinner to come. By and by about one o’clock, before the Lord Mayor came, come into the Hall, from the room where they were first led into, the Lord Chancellor (Archbishop before him), with the Lords of the Council, and other Bishops, and they to dinner. Anon comes the Lord Mayor, who went up to the lords, and then to the other tables to bid welcome; and so all to dinner. I sat near Proby, Baron, and Creed at the Merchant Strangers’ table; where ten good dishes to a mess, with plenty of wine of all sorts, of which I drunk none; but it was very unpleasing that we had no napkins nor change of trenchers, and drunk out of earthen pitchers and wooden dishes.1968 It happened that after the lords had half dined, came the French Embassador, up to the lords’ table, where he was to have sat; but finding the table set, he would not sit down nor dine with the Lord Mayor, who was not yet come, nor have a table to himself, which was offered; but in a discontent went away again.1969 After I had dined, I and Creed rose and went up and down the house, and up to the lady’s room, and there stayed gazing upon them. But though there were many and fine, both young and old, yet I could not discern one handsome face there; which was very strange, nor did I find the lady that young Dawes married so pretty as I took her for, I having here an opportunity of looking much upon her very near. I expected music, but there was none but only trumpets and drums, which displeased me. The dinner, it seems, is made by the Mayor and two Sheriffs for the time being, the Lord Mayor paying one half, and they the other. And the whole, Proby says, is reckoned to come to about 7 or £800 at most. Being wearied with looking upon a company of ugly women, Creed and I went away, and took coach and through Cheapside, and there saw the pageants,1970 which were very silly, and thence to the Temple, where meeting Greatorex, he and we to Hercules Pillars, there to show me the manner of his going about of draining of fenns,1971 which I desired much to know, but it did not appear very satisfactory to me, as he discoursed it, and I doubt he will faile in it. Thence I by coach home, and there found my wife come home, and by and by came my brother Tom, with whom I was very angry for not sending me a bill with my things, so as that I think never to have more work done by him if ever he serves me so again, and so I told him. The consideration of laying out £32 12s. this very month in his very work troubles me also, and one thing more, that is to say, that Will having been at home all the day, I doubt is the occasion that Jane has spoken to her mistress tonight that she sees she cannot please us and will look out to provide herself elsewhere, which do trouble both of us, and we wonder also at her, but yet when the rogue is gone I do not fear but the wench will do well. To the office a little, to set down my Journal, and so home late to supper and to bed. The Queen mends apace, they say; but yet talks idle still.
. Lay long in bed with my wife, and then up and a while at my office, and so to the ’Change, and so [home] again, and there I found my wife in a great passion with her maids. I upstairs to set some things in order in our chamber and wardrobe, and so to dinner upon a good dish of stewed beef, then up again about my business. Then by coach with my wife to the New Exchange, and there bought and paid for several things, and then back, calling at my periwig-makers, and there showed my wife the periwig made for me, and she likes it very well, and so to my brother’s, and to buy a pair of bodice for her, and so home, and to my office late, and then home to my wife, purposing to go on to a new lesson in arithmetic with her. So to supper and to bed. The Queen mends apace, but her head still light. My mind very heavy thinking of my great layings out lately, and what they must still be for clothes, but I hope it is in order to getting of something the more by it, for I perceive how I have hitherto suffered for lack of going as becomes my place. After a little discourse with my wife upon arithmetic, to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where Creed came and dined with me, and after dinner he and I upstairs, and I showed him my velvet cloake and other things of clothes, that I have lately bought, which he likes very well, and I took his opinion as to some things of clothes, which I purpose to wear, being resolved to go a little handsomer than I have hitherto. Thence to the office; where busy till night, and then to prepare my monthly account, about which I stayed till 10 or 11 o’clock at night, and to my great sorrow find myself £43 worse than I was the last month, which was then £760, and now it is but £717. But it hath chiefly arisen from my layings-out in clothes for myself and wife; viz., for her about £12, and for myself £55, or thereabouts; having made myself a velvet cloake, two new cloth suits, black, plain both; a new shag1972 gown, trimmed with gold buttons and twist, with a new hat, and, silk tops for my legs, and many other things, being resolved henceforward to go like myself. And also two periwigs, one whereof costs me £3, and the other 40s.—I have worn neither yet, but will begin next week, God willing. So that I hope I shall not need now to lay out more money a great while, I having laid out in clothes for myself and wife, and for her closet and other things without, these two months, this and the last, besides household expenses of victuals, etc., above £110. But I hope I shall with more comfort labour to get more, and with better success than when, for want of clothes, I was forced to sneake like a beggar. Having done this I went home, and after supper to bed, my mind being eased in knowing my condition, though troubled to think that I have been forced to spend so much.
Thus I end this month worth £717, or thereabouts, with a good deal of good goods more than I had, and a great deal of new and good clothes. My greatest trouble and my wife’s is our family, mighty out of order by this fellow Will’s corrupting the maids by his idle talk and carriage, which we are going to remove by hastening him out of the house, which his uncle Blackburne is upon doing, and I am to give him £20 per annum toward his maintenance. The Queen continues lightheaded, but in hopes to recover. The plague is much in Amsterdam, and we in fears of it here, which God defend.1973 The Turke goes on mightily in the Emperor’s dominions, and the Princes cannot agree among themselves how to go against him. Myself in pretty good health now, after being ill this month for a week together, but cannot yet come to … well, being so costive, but for this month almost I have not had a good natural stool, but to this hour am forced to take physic every night, which brings me neither but one stool, and that in the morning as soon as I am up, all the rest of the day very costive. My father has been very ill in the country, but I hope better again now. I am lately come to a conclusion with Tom Trice to pay him £100, which is a great deal of money, but I hope it will save a great deal more. But thus everything lessens, which I have and am like to have, and therefore I must look about me to get something more than just my salary, or else I may resolve to live well and die a beggar.
November 1663
. This morning my brother’s man brought me a new black baize waistecoate, faced with silke, which I put on from this day, laying by half-shirts for this winter. He brought me also my new gown of purple shag, trimmed with gold, very handsome; he also brought me as a gift from my brother, a velvet hat, very fine to ride in, and the fashion, which pleases me very well, to which end, I believe, he sent it me, for he knows I had lately been angry with him. Up and to church with my wife, and at noon dined at home alone, a good calves head boiled and dumplings, an excellent dinner methought it was. Then to church again, whither Sir W. Penn came, the first time he has been at church these several months, he having been sicke all the while. Home and to my office, where I taught my wife some part of subtraction, and then fell myself to set some papers of my last night’s accounts in order, and so to supper home, and after supper another bout at arithmetic with my wife, and then to my office again and made an end of my papers, and so home to prayers, and then to read my vowes, and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Whitehall, and there in the long Matted Gallery I find Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir W. Batten; and by and by comes the King to walk there with three or four with him; and soon as he saw us, says he, “Here is the Navy Office,” and there walked twenty turns the length of the gallery, talking, methought, but ordinary talk. By and by came the Duke, and he walked, and at last they went into the Duke’s lodgings. The King stayed so long that we could not discourse with the Duke, and so we parted. I heard the Duke say that he was going to wear a periwig; and they say the King also will. I never till this day observed that the King is mighty gray. Thence, meeting with Creed, walked with him to Westminster Hall, and thence by coach took up Mrs. Hunt, and carried her towards my house, and we ’light at the ’Change, and sent her to my house, Creed and I to the Coffeehouse, and then to the ’Change, and so home, and carried a barrel of oysters with us, and so to dinner, and after a good dinner left Mrs. Hunt and my wife making marmalade of quinces, and Creed and I to the periwig makers, but it being dark concluded of nothing, and so Creed went away, and I with Sir W. Penn, who spied me in the street, in his coach home. There found them busy still, and I up to my viol. Anon, the comfiture being well done, my wife and I took Mrs. Hunt at almost 9 at night by coach and carried Mrs. Hunt home, and did give her a box of sugar and a haunch of venison given me by my Lady the other day. We did not ’light, but saw her within doors, and straight home, where after supper there happening some discourse where my wife thought she had taken Jane in a lie, she told me of it mighty triumphantly, but I, not seeing reason to conclude it a lie, was vexed, and my wife and I to very high words, wherein I up to my chamber, and she by and by followed me up, and to very bad words from her to me, calling me perfidious and man of no conscience, whatever I pretend to, and I know not what, which troubled me mightily, and though I would allow something to her passion, yet I see again and again that she spoke but somewhat of what she had in her heart. But I tempered myself very well, so as that though we went to bed with discontent she yielded to me and began to be fond, so that being willing myself to peace, we did before we sleep become very good friends, it being past 12 o’clock, and so with good hearts and joy to rest.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, and at noon to the Coffeehouse, and there heard a long and most passionate discourse between two doctors of physic, of which one was Dr. Allen,1974 whom I knew at Cambridge, and a couple of apothecaries; these maintaining chymistry against them Galenicall physic; and the truth is, one of the apothecaries whom they charged most, did speak very prettily, that is, his language and sense good, though perhaps he might not be so knowing a physician as to offer to contest with them. At last they came to some cooler terms, and broke up. I home, and there Mr. Moore coming by my appointment dined with me, and after dinner came Mr. Goldsborough, and we discoursed about the business of his mother, but could come to no agreement in it but parted dissatisfied. By and by comes Chapman, the periwig-maker, and upon my liking it, without more ado I went up, and there he cut off my haire, which went a little to my heart at present to part with it; but, it being over, and my periwig on, I paid him £3 for it; and away went he with my own haire to make up another of, and I by and by, after I had caused all my maids to look upon it; and they conclude it do become me; though Jane was mightily troubled for my parting of my own haire, and so was Besse, I went abroad to the Coffeehouse, and coming back went to Sir W. Penn and there sat with him and Captain Cocke till late at night, Cocke talking of some of the Roman history very well, he having a good memory. Sir W. Penn observed mightily, and discoursed much upon my cutting off my haire, as he do of everything that concerns me, but it is over, and so I perceive after a day or two it will be no great matter.
. Up and to my office, showing myself to Sir W. Batten, and Sir J. Minnes, and no great matter made of my periwig, as I was afeard there would be. Among other things there came to me Shales1975 of Portsmouth, by my order, and I began to discourse with him about the arrears of stores belonging to the Victualling Office there, and by his discourse I am in some hopes that if I can get a grant from the King of such a part of all I discover I may chance to find a way to get something by the by, which do greatly please me the very thoughts of. Home to dinner, and very pleasant with my wife, who is this day also herself making of marmalade of quince, which she now do very well herself. I left her at it and by coach I to the New Exchange and several places to buy and bring home things, among others a case I bought of the trunk maker’s for my periwig, and so home and to my office late, and among other things wrote a letter to Will’s uncle to hasten his removal from me, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning Captain Cocke did give me a good account of the Guinea trade. The Queen is in a great way to recovery. This noon came John Angier to me in a pickle, I was sad to see him, desiring my good word for him to go a trooper to Tangier, but I did schoole him and sent him away with good advice, but no present encouragement. Presently after I had a letter from his poor father at Cambridge, who is broke, it seems, and desires me to get him a protection, or a place of employment; but, poor man, I doubt I can help him, but will endeavour it.
. Lay long in bed, then up, called by Captain Cocke about business of a contract of his for some Tar, and so to the office, and then to Sir W. Penn and there talked, and he being gone came Sir W. Warren and discoursed about our business with Field, and at noon by agreement to the Miter to dinner upon T. Trice’s 40s., to be spent upon our late agreement. Here was a very poor dinner and great company. All our lawyers on both sides, and several friends of his and some of mine brought by him, viz., Mr. Moore, uncle Wight, Dr. Williams, and my cousin Angier, that lives here in town, who after dinner carried me aside and showed me a letter from his poor brother at Cambridge to me of the same contents with that yesterday to me desiring help from me. Here I was among a sorry company without any content or pleasure, and at the last the reckoning coming to above 40s. by 15s., he would have me pay the 10s. and he would pay the 5s., which was so poor that I was ashamed of it, and did it only to save contending with him. There, after agreeing a day for him and I to meet and seal our agreement, I parted and home, and at the office by agreement came Mr. Shales, and there he and I discourse till late the business of his helping me in the discovery of some arrears of provisions and stores due to the stores at Portsmouth, out of which I may chance to get some money, and save the King some too, and therefore I shall endeavour to do the fellow some right in other things here to his advantage between Mr. Gauden and him. He gone my wife and I to her arithmetic, in which she pleases me well, and so to the office, there set down my Journal, and so home to supper and to bed. A little troubled to see how my family is out of order by Will’s being there, and also to hear that Jane do not please my wife as I expected and would have wished.
. This morning waking, my wife was mighty-earnest with me to persuade me that she should prove with child since last night, which, if it be, let it come, and welcome. Up to my office, whither Commissioner Pett came, newly come out of the country, and he and I walked together in the garden talking of business a great while, and I perceive that by our countenancing of him he do begin to pluck up his head, and will do good things I hope in the yard. Thence, he being gone, to my office and there dispatched many people, and at noon to the ’Change to the coffeehouse, and among other things heard Sir John Cutler say, that of his own experience in time of thunder, so many barrels of beer as have a piece of iron laid upon them will not be soured, and the others will. Thence to the ’Change, and there discoursed with many people, and I hope to settle again to my business and revive my report of following of business, which by my being taken off for a while by sickness and laying out of money has slackened for a little while. Home, and there found Mrs. Hunt, who dined very merry, good woman, with us. After dinner came in Captain Grove, and he and I alone to talk of many things, and among many others of the Fishery, in which he gives me such hopes that being at this time full of projects how to get a little honestly, of which some of them I trust in God will take, I resolved this afternoon to go and consult my Lord Sandwich about it, and so, being to carry home Mrs. Hunt, I took her and my wife by coach and set them at Axe Yard, and I to my Lord’s and thither sent for Creed and discoursed with him about it, and he and I to Whitehall, where Sir G. Carteret and my Lord met me very fortunately, and wondered first to see me in my perruque, and I am glad it is over, and then, Sir G. Carteret being gone, I took my Lord aside, who do give me the best advice he can, and telling me how there are some projectors, by name Sir Edward Ford, who would have the making of farthings,1976 and out of that give so much to the King for the maintenance of the Fishery; but my Lord do not like that, but would have it go as they offered the last year, and so upon my desire he promises me when it is seasonable to bring me into the commission with others, if any of them take, and I perceive he and Mr. Coventry are resolved to follow it hard. Thence, after walking a good while in the Long gallery, home to my Lord’s lodging, my Lord telling me how my father did desire him to speak to me about my giving of my sister something, which do vex me to see that he should trouble my Lord in it, but however it is a good occasion for me to tell my Lord my condition, and so I was glad of it. After that we begun to talk of the Court, and he tells me how Mr. Edward Montagu begins to show respect to him again after his endeavouring to bespatter him all was, possible; but he is resolved never to admit him into his friendship again. He tells me how he and Sir H. Bennet, the Duke of Buckingham and his Duchess,1977 was of a committee with somebody else for the getting of Mrs. Stewart for the King; but that she proves a cunning slut, and is advised at Somerset House by the Queen-Mother, and by her mother,1978 and so all the plot is spoiled and the whole committee broke. Mr. Montagu and the Duke of Buckingham fallen a-pieces, the Duchess going to a nunnery; and so Montagu begins to enter friendship with my Lord, and to attend the Chancellor whom he had deserted. My Lord tells me that Mr. Montagu, among other things, did endeavour to represent him to the Chancellor’s sons as one that did desert their father in the business of my Lord of Bristoll; which is most false, being the only man that hath several times dined with him when no soul hath come to him, and went with him that very day home when the Earl impeached him in the Parliament House, and hath refused ever to pay a visit to my Lord of Bristoll, not so much as in return to a visit of his. So that the Chancellor and my Lord are well known and trusted one by another. But yet my Lord blames the Chancellor for desiring to have it put off to the next Session of Parliament, contrary to my Lord Treasurer’s advice, to whom he swore he would not do it: and, perhaps, my Lord Chancellor, for aught I see by my Lord’s discourse, may suffer by it when the Parliament comes to sit. My Lord tells me that he observes the Duke of York do follow and understand business very well, and is mightily improved thereby. Here Mr. Pagett coming in I left my Lord and him, and thence I called my wife and her maid Jane and by coach home and to my office, where late writing some things against tomorrow, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning Mr. Blackburne came to me to let me know that he had got a lodging very commodious for his kinsman, and so he is ready at my pleasure to go when I would bid him, and so I told him that I would in a day or two send to speak with him and he and I would talk and advise Will what to do, of which I am very glad.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and Sir W. Penn and I had a word or two, where by opposing him in not being willing to excuse a mulct put upon the purser of the James, absent from duty, he says, by his business and order, he was mighty angry, and went out of the office like an asse discontented. At which I am never a whit sorry; I would not have [him] think that I dare not oppose him, where I see reason and cause for it. Home to dinner, and then by coach abroad about several businesses to several places, among others to Westminster Hall, where, seeing Howlett’s daughter going out of the other end of the Hall, I followed her if I would to have offered talk to her and dallied with her a little, but I could not overtake her. Then calling at Unthank’s for something of my wife’s not done, a pretty little gentlewoman, a lodger there, came out to tell me that it was not yet done, which though it vexed me yet I took opportunity of taking her by the hand with the boot, and so found matter to talk a little the longer to her, but I was ready to laugh at myself to see how my anger would not operate, my disappointment coming to me by such a messenger. Thence to Doctors’ Commons and there consulted Dr. Turner about some differences we have with the officers of the East India ships about goods brought by them without paying freight, which we demand of them. So home to my office, and there late writing letters, and so home to supper and to bed, having got a scurvy cold by lying cold in my head the last night. This day Captain Taylor1979 brought me a piece of plate, a little small state dish, he expecting that I should get him some allowance for demorage1980 of his ship William, kept long at Tangier, which I shall and may justly do.
. Up, and it being late, to church without my wife, and there I saw Pembleton come into the church and bring his wife with him, a good comely plain woman, and by and by my wife came after me all alone, which I was a little vexed at. I found that my coming in a periwig did not prove so strange to the world as I was afear’d it would, for I thought that all the church would presently have cast their eyes all upon me, but I found no such thing. Here an ordinary lazy sermon of Mr. Mill’s, and then home to dinner, and there Tom came and dined with us; and after dinner to talk about a new black cloth suit that I have a making, and so at church time to church again, where the Scott preached, and I slept most of the time. Thence home, and I spent most of the evening upon Fuller’s Church History and Barckly’s Argeny,1981 and so after supper to prayers and to bed, a little fearing my pain coming back again, myself continuing as costive as ever, and my physic ended, but I had sent a porter today for more and it was brought me before I went to bed, and so with pretty good content to bed.
. Up and found myself very well, and so by coach to Whitehall and there met all my fellow officers, and so to the Duke, where, when we came into his closet, he told us that Mr. Pepys was so altered with his new periwig that he did not know him. So to our discourse, and among and above other things we were taken up in talking upon Sir J. Lawson’s coming home, he being come to Portsmouth; and Captain Berkely1982 is come to town with a letter from the Duana of Algier to the King, wherein they do demand again the searching of our ships and taking out of strangers, and their goods; and that what English ships are taken without the Duke’s pass they will detain (though it be flat contrary to the words of the peace) as prizes, till they do hear from our King, which they advise him may be speedy. And this they did the very next day after they had received with great joy the Grand Seignor’s confirmation of the Peace from Constantinople by Captain Berkely; so that there is no command nor certainty to be had of these people. The King is resolved to send his will by a fleet of ships; and it is thought best and speediest to send these very ships that are now come home, five sail of good ships, back again after cleaning, victualling, and paying them. But it is a pleasant thing to think how their Basha, Shavan Aga, did tear his hair to see the soldiers order things thus; for (just like his late predecessor) when they see the evil of war with England, then for certain they complain to the Grand Seignor of him, and cut his head off: this he is sure of, and knows as certain. Thence to Westminster Hall, where I met with Mr. Pierce, chirurgeon; and among other things he asked me seriously whether I knew anything of my Lord’s being out of favour with the King; and told me, that for certain the King do take mighty notice of my Lord’s living obscurely in a corner not like himself, and becoming the honour that he is come to. I was sorry to hear, and the truth is, from my Lord’s discourse among his people (which I am told) of the uncertainty of princes’ favours, and his melancholy keeping from Court, I am doubtful of some such thing; but I seemed wholly strange to him in it, but will make my use of it. He told me also how loose the Court is, nobody looking after business, but every man his lust and gain; and how the King is now become besotted upon Mrs. Stewart, that he gets into corners, and will be with her half an houre together kissing her to the observation of all the world; and she now stays by herself and expects it, as my Lady Castlemaine did use to do; to whom the King, he says, is still kind, so as now and then he goes to have a chat with her as he believes; but with no such fondness as he used to do. But yet it is thought that this new wench is so subtle, that she lets him not do anything than is safe to her, but yet his doting is so great that, Pierce tells me, it is verily thought if the Queen had died, he would have married her. The Duke of Monmouth is to have part of the Cockpit new built for lodgings for him, and they say to be made Captain of the Guards in the room of my Lord Gerard. Having thus talked with him, there comes into the Hall Creed and Ned Pickering, and after a turne or two with them, it being noon, I walked with them two to the King’s Head ordinary, and there we dined; little discourse but what was common, only that the Duke of York is a very desperate huntsman, but I was ashamed of Pickering, who could not forbear having up my Lord Sandwich now and then in the most paltry matters abominable. Thence I took leave of them, and so having taken up something at my wife’s tailor’s, I home by coach and there to my office, whither Shales came and I had much discourse with him about the business of the victualling, and thence in the evening to the Coffeehouse, and there sat till by and by, by appointment Will brought me word that his uncle Blackburne was ready to speak with me. So I went down to him, and he and I to a tavern hard by, and there I begun to speak to Will friendlily, advising him how to carry himself now he is going from under my roof, without any reflections upon the occasion from whence his removal arose. This his uncle seconded, and after laying down to him his duty to me, and what I expect of him, in a discourse of about a quarter of an houre or more, we agreed upon his going this week, towards the latter (end) of the week, and so dismissed him, and Mr. Blackburne and I fell to talk of many things, wherein I did speak so freely to him in many things agreeing with his sense that he was very open to me: first, in that of religion, he makes it great matter of prudence for the King and Council to suffer liberty of conscience; and imputes the losse of Hungary to the Turke from the Emperor’s denying them this liberty of their religion. He says that many pious ministers of the word of God, some thousands of them, do now beg their bread: and told me how highly the present clergy carry themselves everywhere, so as that they are hated and laughed at by everybody; among other things, for their excommunications, which they send upon the least occasions almost that can be. And I am convinced in my judgement, not only from his discourse, but my thoughts in general, that the present clergy will never heartily go down with the generality of the commons of England; they have been so used to liberty and freedom, and they are so acquainted with the pride and debauchery of the present clergy. He did give me many stories of the affronts which the clergy receive in all places of England from the gentry and ordinary persons of the parish. He do tell me what the City thinks of General Monk, as of a most perfidious man that hath betrayed everybody, and the King also; who, as he thinks, and his party, and so I have heard other good friends of the King say, it might have been better for the King to have had his hands a little bound for the present, than be forced to bring such a crew of poor people about him, and be liable to satisfy the demands of every one of them. He told me that to his knowledge (being present at every meeting at the Treaty at the Isle of Wight), that the old King did confess himself overruled and convinced in his judgement against the Bishops, and would have suffered and did agree to exclude the service out of the churches, nay his own chapel; and that he did always say, that this he did not by force, for that he would never abate one inch by any violence; but what he did was out of his reason and judgement. He tells me that the King by name, with all his dignities, is prayed for by them that they call Fanatics, as heartily and powerfully as in any of the other churches that are thought better: and that, let the King think what he will, it is them that must help him in the day of war. For as they are the most, so generally they are the most substantial sort of people, and the soberest; and did desire me to observe it to my Lord Sandwich, among other things, that of all the old army now you cannot see a man begging about the street; but what? You shall have this captain turned a shoemaker; the lieutenant, a baker; this a brewer; that a haberdasher; this common soldier, a porter; and every man in his apron and frock, etc., as if they never had done anything else: whereas the others go with their belts and swords, swearing and cursing, and stealing; running into people’s houses, by force oftentimes, to carry away something; and this is the difference between the temper of one and the other; and concludes (and I think with some reason) that the spirits of the old parliament soldiers are so quiet and contented with God’s providences, that the King is safer from any evil meant him by them one thousand times more than from his own discontented Cavalier. And then to the public management of business: it is done, as he observes, so loosely and so carelessly, that the kingdom can never be happy with it, every man looking after himself, and his own lust and luxury; among other things he instanced in the business of money, he do believe that half of what money the Parliament gives the King is not so much as gathered. And to the purpose he told me how the Bellamys (who had some of the Northern counties assigned them for their debt for the petty warrant victualling) have often complained to him that they cannot get it collected, for that nobody minds, or, if they do, they won’t pay it in. Whereas (which is a very remarkable thing) he hath been told by some of the Treasurers at War here of late, to whom the most of the £120,000 monthly was paid, that for most months the payments were gathered so duly, that they seldom had so much or more than 40s., or the like, short in the whole collection; whereas now the very Commissioners for Assessments and other public payments are such persons, and those that they choose in the country so like themselves, that from top to bottom there is not a man careful of anything, or if he be, he is not solvent; that what between the beggar and the knave, the King is abused the best part of all his revenue. From thence we began to talk of the Navy, and particularly of Sir W. Penn, of whose rise to be a general I had a mind to be informed. He told me he was always a conceited man, and one that would put the best side outward, but that it was his pretence of sanctity that brought him into play. Lawson, and Portman, and the Fifth-monarchy men, among whom he was a great brother, importuned that he might be general; and it was pleasant to see how Blackburne himself did act it, how when the Commissioners of the Admiralty would enquire of the captains and admirals of such and such men, how they would with a sigh and casting up the eyes say, “Such a man fears the Lord,” or, “I hope such a man hath the Spirit of God,” and such things as that. But he tells me that there was a cruel articling against Penn after one fight, for cowardice, in putting himself within a coil of cables, of which he had much ado to acquit himself: and by great friends did it, not without remains of guilt, but that his brethren had a mind to pass it by, and Sir H. Vane did advise him to search his heart, and see whether this fault or a greater sin was not the occasion of this so great trial. And he tells me, that what Penn gives out about Cromwell’s sending and entreating him to go to Jamaica, is very false; he knows the contrary: besides, the Protector never was a man that needed to send for any man, specially such a one as he, twice. He tells me that the business of Jamaica did miscarry absolutely by his pride, and that when he was in the Tower he would cry like a child. This he says of his own personal knowledge, and lastly tells me that just upon the turne, when Monk was come from the North to the City, and did begin to think of bringing in the King, Penn was then turned Quaker.1983 This he is most certain of. He tells me that Lawson was never counted anything but only a seaman, and a stout man, but a false man, and that now he appears the greatest hypocrite in the world. And Penn the same. He tells me that it is much talked of, that the King intends to legitimate the Duke of Monmouth; and that he has not, nor his friends of his persuasion, have any hopes of getting their consciences at liberty but by God Almighty’s turning of the King’s heart, which they expect, and are resolved to live and die in quiet hopes of it; but never to repine, or act anything more than by prayers towards it. And that not only himself but all of them have, and are willing at any time to take the oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy. Thus far, and upon many more things, we had discoursed when some persons in a room hard by began to sing in three parts very finely and to play upon a flageolet so pleasantly that my discourse afterwards was but troublesome, and I could not attend it, and so, anon, considering of a sudden the time of night, we found it 11 o’clock, which I thought it had not been by two hours, but we were close in talk, and so we rose, he having drunk some wine and I some beer and sugar, and so by a fair moonshine home and to bed, my wife troubled with tooth ache. Mr. Blackburne observed further to me, some certain notice that he had of the present plot so much talked of; that he was told by Mr. Rushworth,1984 how one Captain Oates,1985 a great discoverer, did employ several to bring and seduce others into a plot, and that one of his agents met with one that would not listen to him, nor conceal what he had offered him, but so detected the trapan. This, he says, is most true. He also, among other instances how the King is served, did much insist upon the cowardice and corruption of the King’s guards and militia, which to be sure will fail the King, as they have done already, when there will be occasion for them.
. Up and to the office, where we sat till noon, and then to the Exchange, where spoke with several and had my head casting about how to get a penny and I hope I shall, and then home, and there Mr. Moore by appointment dined with me, and after dinner all the afternoon till night drawing a bond and release against tomorrow for T. Trice, and I to come to a conclusion in which I proceed with great fear and jealousy, knowing him to be a rogue and one that I fear has at this time got too great a hank1986 over me by the neglect of my lawyers. But among other things I am come to an end with Mr. Moore for a £32, a good while lying in my hand of my Lord Privy Seal’s which he for the odd £7 do give me a bond to secure me against, and so I got £25 clear. Then, he being gone, to the office and there late setting down yesterday’s remarkable discourses, and so home and to supper, late, and to bed. The Queen, I hear, is now very well again, and that she hath bespoke herself a new gown.
. Up and to my office all the morning, and at noon to the Coffeehouse, where with Dr. Allen some good discourse about physic and chymistry. And among other things, I telling him what Dribble1987 the German Doctor do offer of an instrument to sink ships; he tells me that which is more strange, that something made of gold, which they call in chymistry Aurum fulminans, a grain, I think he said, of it put into a silver spoon and fired, will give a blow like a musket, and strike a hole through the spoon downward, without the least force upward; and this he can make a cheaper experiment of, he says, with iron prepared. Thence to the ’Change, and being put off a meeting with T. Trice, he not coming, I home to dinner, and after dinner by coach with my wife to my periwig maker’s for my second periwig, but it is not done, and so, calling at a place or two, home, and there to my office, and there taught my wife a new lesson in arithmetic and so sent her home, and I to several businesses; and so home to supper and to bed, being mightily troubled with a cold in my stomach and head, with a great pain by coughing.
. Lay long in bed, indeed too long, divers people and the officers staying for me. My cousin Thomas Pepys the executor being below, and I went to him and stated reckonings about our debt, for his payments of money to my uncle Thomas heretofore by the Captain’s orders. I did not pay him but will soon do it if I can. To the office and there all the morning, where Sir W. Penn, like a coxcomb, was so ready to cross me in a motion I made unawares for the entering a man at Chatham into the works, wherein I was vexed to see his spleene, but glad to understand it, and that it was in no greater a matter, I being not at all concerned here. To the ’Change and did several businesses there and so home with Mr. Moore to dinner, my wife having dined, with Mr. Hollyard with her today, he being come to advise her about her hollow sore place. After dinner Mr. Moore and I discoursing of my Lord’s negligence in attendance at Court, and the discourse the world makes of it, with the too great reason that I believe there is for it; I resolved and took coach to his lodgings, thinking to speak with my Lord about it without more ado. Here I met Mr. Howe, and he and I largely about it, and he very soberly acquainted me how things are with my Lord, that my Lord do not do anything like himself, but follows his folly, and spends his time either at cards at Court with the ladies, when he is there at all, or else at Chelsy with the slut to his great disgrace, and indeed I do see and believe that my Lord do apprehend that he do grow less too at Court. Anon my Lord do come in, and I begun to fall in discourse with him, but my heart did misgive me that my Lord would not take it well, and then found him not in a humour to talk, and so after a few ordinary words, my Lord not talking in the manner as he uses to do; I took leave, and spent some time with W. Howe again, and told him how I could not do what I had so great a mind and resolution to do, but that I thought it would be as well to do it in writing, which he approves of, and so I took leave of him, and by coach home, my mind being full of it, and in pain concerning it. So to my office busy very late, the nights running on faster than one thinks, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, busy all the morning with Commissioner Pett; at noon I to the Exchange, and meeting Shales, he and I to the Coffeehouse and there talked of our victualling matters, which I fear will come to little. However I will go on and carry it as far as I can. So home to dinner where I expected Commissioner Pett, and had a good dinner, but he came not. After dinner came my periwig-maker, and brings me a second periwig, made of my own haire, which comes to 21s. 6d. more than the worth of my own haire, so that they both come to £4 1s. 6d., which he sayth will serve me two years, but I fear it. He being gone, I to my office, and put on my new shag purple gown, with gold buttons and loop lace, I being a little fearful of taking cold and of pain coming upon me. Here I stayed making an end of a troublesome letter, but to my advantage, against Sir W. Batten, giving Sir G. Carteret an account of our late great contract with Sir W. Warren for masts, wherein I am sure I did the King £600 service. That done home to my wife to take a clyster, which I did, and it wrought very well and brought a great deal of wind, which I perceive is all that do trouble me. After that, about 9 or 10 o’clock, to supper in my wife’s chamber, and then about 12 to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat, and after we had almost done, Sir W. Batten desired to have the room cleared, and there he did acquaint the board how he was obliged to answer to something lately said which did reflect upon the Comptroller and him, and to that purpose told how the bargain for Winter’s timber did not prove so bad as I had reported to the board it would. After he had done I cleared the matter that I did not mention the business as a thing designed by me against them, but was led to it by Sir J. Minnes, and that I said nothing but what I was told by Mayers the surveyor as much as by Deane upon whom they laid all the fault, which I must confess did and do still trouble me, for they report him to be a fellow not fit to be employed, when in my conscience he deserves better than any officer in the yard. I thought it not convenient to vindicate him much now, but time will serve when I will do it, and I am bound to do it. I offered to proceed to examine and prove what I said if they please, but Mr. Coventry most discreetly advised not, it being to no purpose, and that he did believe that what I said did not by my manner of speaking it proceed from any design of reproaching them, and so it ended. But my great trouble is for poor Deane. At noon home and dined with my wife, and after dinner Will told me if I pleased he was ready to remove his things, and so before my wife I did give him good counsel, and that his going should not abate my kindness for him, if he carried himself well, and so bid “God bless him,” and left him to remove his things, the poor lad weeping, but I am apt to think matters will be the better both for him and us. So to the office and there late busy. In the evening Mr. Moore came to tell me that he had no opportunity of speaking his mind to my Lord yesterday, and so I am resolved to write to him very suddenly. So after my business done I home, I having stayed till 12 o’clock at night almost, making an end of a letter to Sir G. Carteret about the late contract for masts, wherein I have done myself right, and no wrong to Sir W. Batten. This night I think is the first that I have lain without ever a man in my house besides myself, since I came to keep any. Will being this night gone to his lodging, and by the way I hear today that my boy Waynman has behaved himself so with Mr. Davis that they have got him put into a Barbados ship to be sent away, and though he sends to me to get a release for him I will not out of love to the boy, for I doubt to keep him here were to bring him to the gallows.
. Lay very long in bed with my wife and then up and to my office there to copy fair my letter to Sir G. Carteret, which I did, and by and by most opportunely a footman of his came to me about other business, and so I sent it him by his own servant. I wish good luck with it. At noon home to dinner, my wife not being up, she lying to expect Mr. Holyard the surgeon. So I dined by myself, and in the afternoon to my office again, and there drew up a letter to my Lord, stating to him what the world talks concerning him, and leaving it to him and myself to be thought of by him as he pleases, but I have done but my duty in it. I wait Mr. Moore’s coming for his advice about sending it. So home to supper to my wife, myself finding myself by cold got last night beginning to have some pain, which grieves me much in my mind to see to what a weakness I am come. This day being our Queen’s birthday, the guns of the Tower went all off; and in the evening the Lord Mayor sent from church to church to order the constables to cause bonfires to be made in every street, which methinks is a poor thing to be forced to be commanded. After a good supper with my wife, and hearing of the maids read in the Bible, we to prayers, and to bed.
. Up, and being ready then abroad by coach to Whitehall, and there with the Duke, where Mr. Coventry did a second time go to vindicate himself against reports and prove by many testimonies that he brought, that he did nothing but what had been done by the Lord Admiral’s secretaries heretofore, though he do not approve of it, nor since he had any rule from the Duke hath he exceeded what he is there directed to take, and the thing I think is very clear that they always did take and that now he do take less than ever they did heretofore. Thence away, and Sir G. Carteret did call me to him and discourse with me about my letter yesterday, and did seem to take it unkindly that I should doubt of his satisfaction in the bargain of masts, and did promise me that hereafter whatever he do hear to my prejudice he would tell me before he would believe it, and that this was only Sir W. Batten’s report in this business, which he says he did ever approve of, in which I know he lies. Thence to my Lord’s lodgings thinking to find Mr. Moore, in order to the sending away my letter of reproof to my Lord, but I do not find him, but contrary do find my Lord come to Court, which I am glad to hear and should be more glad to hear that he do follow his business that I may not have occasion to venture upon his good nature by such a provocation as my letter will be to him. So by coach home, to the Exchange, where I talked about several businesses with several people, and so home to dinner with my wife, and then in the afternoon to my office, and there late, and in the evening Mr. Hollyard came, and he and I about our great work to look upon my wife’s malady, which he did, and it seems her great conflux of humours, heretofore that did use to swell there, did in breaking leave a hollow which has since gone in further and further; till now it is near three inches deep, but as God will have it do not run into the bodyward, but keeps to the outside of the skin, and so he must be forced to cut it open all along, and which my heart I doubt will not serve for me to see done, and yet she will not have anybody else to see it done, no, not her own maids, and so I must do it, poor wretch, for her. Tomorrow night he is to do it. He being gone, I to my office again a little while, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and while I am dressing myself, Mr. Deane of Woolwich came to me, and I did tell him what had happened to him last Saturday in the office, but did encourage him to make no matter of it, for that I did not fear but he would in a little time be master of his enemies as much as they think to master him, and so he did tell me many instances of the abominable dealings of Mr. Pett of Woolwich towards him. So we broke up, and I to the office, where we sat all the forenoon doing several businesses, and at noon I to the ’Change where Mr. Moore came to me, and by and by Tom Trice and my uncle Wight, and so we out to a tavern (the New Exchange tavern over against the ’Change where I never was before, and I found my old playfellow Ben Stanley master of it), and thence to a scrivener to draw up a bond, and to another tavern (the King’s Head) we went, and calling on my cousin Angier at the India House there we eat a bit of pork from a cook’s together, and after dinner did seal the bond, and I did take up the old bond of my uncle’s to my aunt, and here T. Trice before them do own all matters in difference between us is clear as to this business, and that he will in six days give me it under the hand of his attorney that there is no judgment against the bond that may give me any future trouble, and also a copy of their letters of his Administration to Godfrey, as much of it as concerns me to have. All this being done towards night we broke up, and so I home and with Mr. Moore to my office, and there I read to him the letter I have wrote to send to my Lord to give him an account how the world, both city and court, do talk of him and his living as he do there in such a poor and bad house so much to his disgrace. Which Mr. Moore do conclude so well drawn: that he would not have me by any means to neglect sending it, assuring me in the best of his judgment that it cannot but endear me to my Lord instead of what I fear of getting his offence, and did offer to take the same words and send them as from, him with his hand to him, which I am not unwilling should come (if they are at all fit to go) from anybody but myself, and so, he being gone, I did take a copy of it to keep by me in shorthand, and sealed them up to send tomorrow by my Will. So home, Mr. Hollyard being come to my wife, and there she being in bed, he and I alone to look again upon her … and there he do find that, though it would not be much pain, yet she is so fearful, and the thing will be somewhat painful in the tending, which I shall not be able to look after, but must require a nurse and people about her; so that upon second thoughts he believes that a fomentation will do as well, and though it will be troublesome yet no pain, and what her maid will be able to do without knowing directly what it is for, but only that it may be for the piles. For though it be nothing but what is fiery honest, yet my wife is loth to give occasion of discourse concerning it. By this my mind and my wife’s is much eased, for I confess I should have been troubled to have had my wife cut before my face, I could not have borne to have seen it. I had great discourse with him about my disease. He tells me again that I must eat in a morning some loosening gruel, and at night roasted apples, that I must drink now and then ale with my wine, and eat bread and butter and honey, and rye bread if I can endure it, it being loosening. I must also take once a week a clyster of his last prescription, only honey now and then instead of butter, which things I am now resolved to apply myself to. He being gone I to my office again to a little business, and then home to supper and to bed, being in, a little pain by drinking of cold small beer today and being in a cold room at the Tavern I believe.
. Up, and after being ready, and done a little business at the office, I and Mr. Hater by water to Redriffe, and so walked to Deptford, where I have not been a very great, while, and there paid off the Milford1988 in very good order, and all respect showed me in the office as much as there used to be to any of the rest or the whole board. That done at noon I took Captain Terne, and there coming in by chance Captain Berkeley, him also to dinner with me to the Globe. Captain Berkeley, who was lately come from Algier, did give us a good account of the place, and how the Basha there do live like a prisoner, being at the mercy of the soldiers and officers, so that there is nothing but a great confusion there. After dinner came Sir W. Batten, and I left him to pay off another ship, and I walked home again reading of a little book of new poems of Cowley’s, given me by his brother.1989 Abraham do lie, it seems, very sicke, still, but like to recover. At my office till late, and then came Mr. Hollyard so full of discourse and Latin that I think he hath got a cup, but I do not know; but full of talk he is in defence of Calvin and Luther. He begun this night the fomentation to my wife, and I hope it will do well with her. He gone, I to the office again a little, and so to bed. This morning I sent Will with my great letter of reproof to my Lord Sandwich, who did give it into his own hand. I pray God give a blessing to it, but confess I am afeard what the consequence may be to me of good or bad, which is according to the ingenuity that he do receive it with. However, I am satisfied that it will do him good, and that he needs it:
My Lord,
I do verily hope that neither the manner nor matter of this advice will be condemned by your Lordship, when for my defence in the first I shall allege my double attempt, since your return from Hinchinbroke, of doing it personally, in both of which your Lordship’s occasions, no doubtfulness of mine, prevented me, and that being now fearful of a sudden summons to Portsmouth, for the discharge of some ships there, I judge it very unbecoming the duty which every bit of bread I eat tells me I owe to your Lordship to expose the safety of your honour to the uncertainty of my return. For the matter, my Lord, it is such as could I in any measure think safe to conceal from, or likely to be discovered to you by any other hand, I should not have dared so far to own what from my heart I believe is false, as to make myself but the relater of other’s discourse; but, sir, your Lordship’s honour being such as I ought to value it to be, and finding both in city and court that discourses pass to your prejudice, too generally for mine or any man’s controllings but your Lordship’s, I shall, my Lord, without the least greatening or lessening the matter, do my duty in laying it shortly before you.
People of all conditions, my Lord, raise matter of wonder from your Lordship’s so little appearance at Court: some concluding thence their disfavour thereby, to which purpose I have had questions asked me, and endeavouring to put off such insinuations by asserting the contrary, they have replied, that your Lordship’s living so beneath your quality, out of the way, and declining of Court attendance, hath been more than once discoursed about the King. Others, my Lord, when the chief ministers of State, and those most active of the Council have been reckoned up, wherein your Lordship never used to want an eminent place, have said, touching your Lordship, that now your turn was served, and the King had given you a good estate, you left him to stand or fall as he would, and, particularly in that of the Navy, have enlarged upon your letting fall all service there.
Another sort, and those the most, insist upon the bad report of the house wherein your Lordship, now observed in perfect health again, continues to sojourne, and by name have charged one of the daughters for a common courtesan, alleging both places and persons where and with whom she hath been too well known, and how much her wantonness occasions, though unjustly, scandal to your Lordship, and that as well to gratifying of some enemies as to the wounding of more friends I am not able to tell.
Lastly, my Lord, I find a general coldness in all persons towards your Lordship, such as, from my first dependence on you, I never yet knew, wherein I shall not offer to interpose any thoughts or advice of mine, well knowing your Lordship needs not any. But with a most faithful assurance that no person nor papers under Heaven is privy to what I here write,1990 besides myself and this, which I shall be careful to have put into your own hands, I rest confident of your Lordship’s just construction of my dutiful intents herein, and in all humility take leave, may it please your Lordship,
The foregoing letter was sealed up, and enclosed in this that follows
My Lord,
If this finds your Lordship either not alone, or not at leisure, I beg the suspending your opening of the enclosed till you shall have both, the matter very well bearing such a delay, and in all humility remain, may it please your Lordship,
. Up, and to the office, where (Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten being gone this morning to Portsmouth) the rest of us met, and rode at noon. So I to the ’Change, where little business, and so home to dinner, and being at dinner Mr. Creed in and dined with us, and after dinner Mr. Gentleman, my Jane’s father,1991 to see us and her. And after a little stay with them, I was sent for by Sir G. Carteret by agreement, and so left them, and to him and with him by coach to my Lord Treasurer,1992 to discourse with him about Mr. Gauden’s having of money, and to offer to him whether it would not be necessary, Mr. Gauden’s credit being so low as it is, to take security of him if he demands any great sum, such as £20,000, which now ought to be paid him upon his next year’s declaration. Which is a sad thing, that being reduced to this by us, we should be the first to doubt his credit; but so it is. However, it will be managed with great tenderness to him. My Lord Treasurer we found in his bedchamber, being laid up of the gout. I find him a very ready man, and certainly a brave servant to the King: he spoke so quick and sensibly of the King’s charge. Nothing displeased me in him but his long nails, which he lets grow upon a pretty thick white short hand, that it troubled me to see them. Thence with Sir G. Carteret by coach, and he set me down at the New Exchange. In our way he told me there is no such thing likely yet as a Dutch war, neither they nor we being in condition for it, though it will come certainly to that in some time, our interests lying the same way, that is to say, in trade. But not yet. Thence to the Temple, and there visited my cousin Roger Pepys and his brother Dr. John, a couple, methinks, of very ordinary men, and thence to speak [with] Mr. Moore, and met him by the way, who tells me, to my great content, that he believes my letter to my Lord Sandwich hath wrought well upon him, and that he will look after himself and his business upon it, for he begins already to do so. But I dare not conclude anything till I see him, which shall be tomorrow morning, that I may be out of my pain to know how he takes it of me. He and I to the Coffeehouse, and there drank and talked a little, and so I home, and after a little at my office home to supper and to bed, not knowing how to avoid hopes from Mr. Moore’s words tonight, and yet I am fearful of the worst.
. Up, and as soon as I could to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, but he was gone out before, and so I am defeated of my expectation of being eased one way or other in the business of my Lord. But I went up to Mr. Howe, who I saw this day the first time in a periwig, which becomes him very well, and discoursed with him. He tells me that my Lord is of a sudden much changed, and he do believe that he do take my letter well. However, we do both bless God that it hath so good an effect upon him. Thence I home again, calling at the Wardrobe, where I found my Lord, but so busy with Mr. Townsend making up accounts there that I was unwilling to trouble him, and so went away. By and by to the Exchange, and there met by agreement Mr. Howe, and took him with a barrel of oysters home to dinner, where we were very merry, and indeed I observe him to be a very hopeful young man, but only a little conceited. After dinner I took him and my wife, and setting her in Covent Garden at her mother’s, he and I to my Lord’s, and thence I with Mr. Moore to Whitehall, there the King and Council being close, and I thinking it an improper place to meet my Lord first upon the business; I took coach, and calling my wife went home, setting Mr. Moore down by the way, and having been late at the office alone looking over some plates of the Northern seas, the White seas, and Archangell river, I went home, and, after supper, to bed. My wife tells me that she and her brother have had a great falling out tonight, he taking upon him to challenge great obligation upon her, and taxing her for not being so as she ought to be to her friends, and that she can do more with me than she pretends, and I know not what, but God be thanked she cannot. A great talk there is today of a crush between some of the Fanatics up in arms, and the King’s men in the North; but whether true I know not yet.1993
. At the office all the morning and at noon I receive a letter from Mr. Creed, with a token, viz., a very noble parti-coloured Indian gown for my wife. The letter is oddly writ, over-prizing his present, and little owning any past service of mine, but that this was his genuine respects, and I know not what: I confess I had expectations of a better account from him of my service about his accounts, and so give his boy 12d., and sent it back again, and after having been at the pay of a ship this afternoon at the Treasury, I went by coach to Ludgate, and, by pricing several there, I guess this gown may be worth about £12 or £15. But, however, I expect at least £50 of him. So in the evening I wrote him a letter telling him clearly my mind, a copy of which I keep and of his letter and so I resolve to have no more such correspondence as I used to have but will have satisfaction of him as I do expect. So to write my letters, and after all done I went home to supper and to bed, my mind being pretty well at ease from my letter to Creed, and more for my receipt this afternoon of £17 at the Treasury, for the £17 paid a year since to the carver for his work at my house, which I did intend to have paid myself, but, finding others to do it, I thought it not amisse to get it too, but I am afeard that we may hear of it to our greater prejudices hereafter.
. Up pretty early, and having last night bespoke a coach, which failed me this morning, I walked as far as the Temple, and there took coach, and to my Lord’s lodgings, whom I found ready to go to chapel; but I coming, he begun, with a very serious countenance, to tell me that he had received my late letter, wherein first he took notice of my care of him and his honour, and did give me thanks for that part of it where I say that from my heart I believe the contrary of what I do there relate to be the discourse of others; but since I intended it not a reproach, but matter of information, and for him to make a judgment of it for his practice, it was necessary for me to tell him the persons of whom I have gathered the several particulars which I there insist on. I would have made excuses in it; but, seeing him so earnest in it, I found myself forced to it, and so did tell him Mr. Pierce; the chirurgeon, in that of his Lordship’s living being discoursed of at Court; a maid servant that I kept, that lived at Chelsy school; and also Mr. Pickering, about the report touching the young woman; and also Mr. Hunt, in Axe Yard, near whom she lodged. I told him the whole city do discourse concerning his neglect of business; and so I many times asserting my dutiful intention in all this, and he owning his accepting of it as such. That that troubled me most in particular is, that he did there assert the civility of the people of the house, and the young gentlewoman, for whose reproach he was sorry. His saying that he was resolved how to live, and that though he was taking a house, meaning to live in another manner, yet it was not to please any people, or to stop report, but to please himself, though this I do believe he might say that he might not seem to me to be so much wrought upon by what I have writ; and lastly, and most of all, when I spoke of the tenderness that I have used in declaring this to him, there being nobody privy to it, he told me that I must give him leave to except one.1994 I told him that possibly somebody might know of some thoughts of mine, I having borrowed some intelligence in this matter from them, but nobody could say they knew of the thing itself what I writ. This, I confess, however, do trouble me, for that he seemed to speak it as a quick retort, and it must sure be Will. Howe, who did not see anything of what I writ, though I told him indeed that I would write; but in this, I think, there is no great hurt. I find him, though he cannot but own his opinion of my good intentions, and so, he did again and again profess it, that he is troubled in his mind at it; and I confess, I think I may have done myself an injury for his good, which, were it to do again, and that I believed he would take it no better, I think I should sit quietly without taking any notice of it, for I doubt there is no medium between his taking it very well or very ill. I could not forbear weeping before him at the latter end, which, since, I am ashamed of, though I cannot see what he can take it to proceed from but my tenderness and good will to him. After this discourse was ended, he began to talk very, cheerfully of other things, and I walked with him to Whitehall, and we discoursed of the pictures in the gallery, which, it may be, he might do out of policy, that the boy might not see any, strangeness in him; but I rather think that his mind was somewhat eased, and hope that he will be to me as he was before. But, however, I doubt not when he sees that I follow my business, and become an honour to him, and not to be like to need him, or to be a burden to him, and rather able to serve him than to need him, and if he do continue to follow business, and so come to his right witts again, I do not doubt but he will then consider my faithfulness to him, and esteem me as he ought. At chapel I had room in the Privy Seale pew with other gentlemen, and there heard Dr. Killigrew1995 preach, but my mind was so, I know not whether troubled, or only full of thoughts of what had passed between my Lord and me that I could not mind it, nor can at this hour remember three words. The anthem was good after sermon, being the fifty-first psalm, made for five voices by one of Captain Cooke’s boys, a pretty boy.1996 And they say there are four or five of them that can do as much. And here I first perceived that the King is a little musicall, and kept good time with his hand all along the anthem. Up into the gallery after sermon and there I met Creed. We saluted one another and spoke but not one word of what had passed yesterday between us, but told me he was forced to such a place to dinner and so we parted. Here I met Mr. Povy, who tells me how Tangier had like to have been betrayed, and that one of the King’s officers is come, to whom 8,000 pieces of eight were offered for his part. Hence I to the King’s Head ordinary, and there dined, good and much company, and a good dinner: most of their discourse was about hunting, in a dialect I understand very little. Thence by coach to our own church, and there my mind being yet unsettled I could mind nothing, and after sermon home and there told my wife what had passed, and thence to my office, where doing business only to keep my mind employed till late; and so home to supper, to prayers, and to bed.
. Up and to Alderman Backwell’s, where Sir W. Rider, by appointment, met us to consult about the insuring of our hemp ship from Archangell, in which we are all much concerned, by my Lord Treasurer’s command. That being put in a way I went to Mr. Beacham, one of our jury, to confer with him about our business with Field at our trial tomorrow, and thence to St. Paul’s Churchyarde, and there bespoke Rushworth’s Collections, and Scobell’s Acts of the Long Parliament,1997 etc., which I will make the King pay for as to the office; and so I do not break my vow at all. Back to the Coffeehouse, and then to the ’Change, where Sir W. Rider and I did bid 15 percent, and nobody will take it under 20 percent, and the lowest was 15 percent premium, and 15 more to be abated in case of losse, which we did not think fit without order to give, and so we parted, and I home to a speedy, though too good a dinner to eat alone, viz., a good goose and a rare piece of roast beef. Thence to the Temple, but being there too soon and meeting Mr. Moore I took him up and to my Lord Treasurer’s, and thence to Sir Ph. Warwick’s, where I found him and did desire his advice, who left me to do what I thought fit in this business of the insurance, and so back again to the Temple all the way telling Mr. Moore what had passed between my Lord and me yesterday, and indeed my fears do grow that my Lord will not reform as I hoped he would nor have the ingenuity to take my advice as he ought kindly. But however I am satisfied that the one person whom he said he would take leave to except is not Mr. Moore, and so W. Howe I am sure could tell him nothing of my letter that ever he saw it. Here Mr. Moore and I parted, and I up to the Speaker’s chamber, and there met Mr. Coventry by appointment to discourse about Field’s business, and thence we parting I homewards and called at the Coffeehouse, and there by great accident hear that a letter is come that our ship is safe come to Newcastle. With this news I went like an asse presently to Alderman Backewell and, told him of it, and he and I went to the African House in Broad Street to have spoke with Sir W. Rider to tell him of it, but missed him. Now what an opportunity had I to have concealed this and seemed to have made an insurance and got £100 with the least trouble and danger in the whole world. This troubles me to think I should be so oversoon. So back again with Alderman Backewell talking of the new money, which he says will never be counterfeited, he believes; but it is deadly inconvenient for telling, it is so thick, and the edges are made to turn up. I found him as full of business, and, to speak the truth, he is a very painful man, and ever was, and nowadays is well paid for it. So home and to my office, doing business late in order to the getting a little money, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, where everybody joyed me in our hemp ship’s coming safe, and it seems one man, Middleburgh, did give 20 percent in gold last night, three or four minutes before the news came of her being safe. Thence with Mr. Deane home and dined, and after dinner and a good deal of discourse of the business of Woolwich Yard, we opened his draught of a ship which he has made for me, and indeed it is a most excellent one and that that I hope will be of good use to me as soon as I get a little time, and much indebted I am to the poor man. Toward night I by coach to Whitehall to the Tangier committee, and there spoke with my Lord and he seems mighty kind to me, but I will try him tomorrow by a visit to see whether he holds it or no. Then home by coach again and to my office, where late with Captain Miners about the East India business. So home to supper and to bed, being troubled to find myself so bound as I am, notwithstanding all the physic that I take. This day our trial was with Field, and I hear that they have given him £29 damage more, which is a strange thing, but yet not so much as formerly, nor as I was afeard of.
. Up and to Sir G. Carteret’s house, and with him by coach to Whitehall. He uses me mighty well to my great joy, and in our discourse took occasion to tell me that as I did desire of him the other day so he desires of me the same favour that we may tell one another at any time anything that passes among us at the office or elsewhere wherein we are either dissatisfied one with another, and that I should find him in all things as kind and ready to serve me as my own brother. This methinks was very sudden and extraordinary and do please me mightily, and I am resolved by no means ever to lose him again if I can. He told me that he did still observe my care for the King’s service in my office. He set me down in Fleet Street and thence I by another coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there I did present him Mr. Barlow’s “Terella,” with which he was very much pleased, and he did show me great kindness, and by other discourse I have reason to think that he is not at all, as I feared he would be, discontented against me more than the trouble of the thing will work upon him. I left him in good humour, and I to Whitehall, to the Duke of York and Mr. Coventry, and there advised about insuring the hemp ship at 12 percent, notwithstanding her being come to Newcastle, and I do hope that in all my three places which are now my hopes and supports I may not now fear anything, but with care, which through the Lord’s blessing I will never more neglect, I don’t doubt but to keep myself up with them all. For in the Duke, and Mr. Coventry, my Lord Sandwich and Sir G. Carteret I place my greatest hopes, and it pleased me yesterday that Mr. Coventry in the coach (he carrying me to the Exchange at noon from the office) did, speaking of Sir W. Batten, say that though there was a difference between them, yet he would embrace any good motion of Sir W. Batten to the King’s advantage as well as of Mr. Pepys’ or any friend he had. And when I talked that I would go about doing something of the Controller’s work when I had time, and that I thought the Controller would not take it ill, he wittily replied that there was nothing in the world so hateful as a dog in the manger. Back by coach to the Exchange, there spoke with Sir W. Rider about insuring, and spoke with several other persons about business, and shall become pretty well known quickly. Thence home to dinner with my poor wife, and with great joy to my office, and there all the afternoon about business, and among others Mr. Bland came to me and had good discourse, and he has chose me a referee for him in a business, and anon in the evening comes Sir W. Warren, and he and I had admirable discourse. He advised me in things I desired about, bummary1998 and other ways of putting out money as in parts of ships, how dangerous they are, and lastly fell to talk of the Dutch management of the Navy, and I think will help me to some accounts of things of the Dutch Admiralty, which I am mighty desirous to know. He seemed to have been mighty privy with my Lord Albemarle in things before this great turn, and to the King’s dallying with him and others for some years before, but I doubt all was not very true. However, his discourse is very useful in general, though he would seem a little more than ordinary in this. Late at night home to supper and to bed, my mind in good ease all but my health, of which I am not a little doubtful.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I to the ’Change, and there met with Mr. Cutler the merchant, who would needs have me home to his house by the Dutch Church,1999 and there in an old but good house, with his wife and mother, a couple of plain old women, I dined a good plain dinner, and his discourse after dinner with me upon matters of the navy victualling very good and worth my hearing, and so home to my office in the afternoon with my mind full of business, and there at it late, and so home to supper to my poor wife, and to bed, myself being in a little pain … by a stroke … in pulling up my breeches yesterday over eagerly, but I will lay nothing to it till I see whether it will cease of itself or no. The plague, it seems, grows more and more at Amsterdam; and we are going upon making of all ships coming from thence and Hambrough, or any other infected places, to perform their Quarantine (for thirty days as Sir Rd. Browne expressed it in the order of the Council, contrary to the import of the word, though in the general acceptation it signifies now the thing, not the time spent in doing it) in Holehaven,2000 a thing never done by us before.
. Up and to my office, where busy with great delight all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, and so home to dinner with my poor wife, and with great content to my office again, and there hard at work upon stating the account of the freights due to the King from the East India Company till late at night, and so home to supper and to bed. My wife mightily pleased with my late discourse of getting a trip over to Calais, or some other port of France, the next summer, in one of the yachts, and I believe I shall do it, and it makes good sport that my maid Jane dares not go, and Besse is wild to go, and is mad for joy, but yet will be willing to stay if Jane hath a mind, which is the best temper in this and all other things that ever I knew in my life.
. Up and at the office sat all the morning, and at noon by Mr. Coventry’s coach to the ’Change, and after a little while there where I met with Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, who tells me for good news that my Lord Sandwich is resolved to go no more to Chelsy, and told me he believed that I had been giving my Lord some counsel, which I neither denied nor affirmed, but seemed glad with him that he went thither no more, and so I home to dinner, and thence abroad to Paul’s Church Yard, and there looked upon the second part of Hudibras, which I buy not, but borrow to read, to see if it be as good as the first, which the world cry so mightily up, though it hath not a good liking in me, though I had tried by twice or three times reading to bring myself to think it witty. Back again home and to my office, and there late doing business and so home to supper and to bed. I have been told two or three times, but today for certain I am told how in Holland publicly they have pictured our King with reproach. One way is with his pockets turned the wrong side outward, hanging out empty; another with two courtiers picking of his pockets; and a third, leading of two ladies, while others abuse him; which amounts to great contempt.
. This morning I put on my best black cloth suit, trimmed with scarlet ribbon, very neat, with my cloake lined with velvet, and a new beaver, which altogether is very noble, with my black silk knit canons2001 I bought a month ago. I to church alone, my wife not going, and there I found my Lady Batten in a velvet gown, which vexed me that she should be in it before my wife, or that I am able to put her into one, but what cannot be, cannot be. However, when I came home I told my wife of it, and to see my weakness, I could on the sudden have found my heart to have offered her one, but second thoughts put it by, and indeed it would undo me to think of doing as Sir W. Batten and his Lady do, who has a good estate besides his office. A good dinner we had of bœuf à la mode, but not roasted so well as my wife used to do it. So after dinner I to the French Church, but that being too far begun I came back to St. Dunstan’s by six and heard a good sermon, and so home and to my office all, the evening making up my accounts of this month, and blessed be God I have got up my crumb again to £770, the most that ever I had yet, and good clothes a great many besides, which is a great mercy of God to me. So home to supper and to bed.
. Was called up by a messenger from Sir W. Penn to go with him by coach to Whitehall. So I got up and went with him, and by the way he began to observe to me some unkind dealing of mine to him a weeke or two since at the table, like a coxcomb, when I answered him pretty freely that I would not think myself to owe any man the service to do this or that because they would have it so (it was about taking of a mulct upon a purser for not keeping guard at Chatham when I was there), so he talked and I talked and let fall the discourse without giving or receiving any great satisfaction, and so to other discourse, but I shall know him still for a false knave. At Whitehall we met the Duke in the Matted Gallery, and there he discoursed with us; and by and by my Lord Sandwich came and stood by, and talked; but it being St. Andrew’s, and a collar-day, he went to the Chapel, and we parted. From him and Sir W. Penn and I back again and ’light at the ’Change, and to the Coffeehouse, where I heard the best story of a cheate intended by a Master of a ship, who had borrowed twice his money upon the bottomary, and as much more insured upon his ship and goods as they were worth, and then would have cast her away upon the coast of France, and there left her, refusing any pilot which was offered him; and so the Governor of the place took her and sent her over hither to find an owner, and so the ship is come safe, and goods and all; they all worth £500, and he had one way or other taken £3,000. The cause is to be tried tomorrow at Guildhall, where I intend to be. Thence home to dinner, and then with my wife to her arithmetic. In the evening came W. Howe to see me, who tells me that my Lord hath been angry three or four days with him, would not speak to him; at last did, and charged him with having spoken to me about what he had observed concerning his Lordship, which W. Howe denying stoutly, he was well at ease; and continues very quiet, and is removing from Chelsy as fast as he can, but, methinks, both by my Lord’s looks upon me today, or it may be it is only my doubtfulness, and by W. Howe’s discourse, my Lord is not very well pleased, nor, it may be, will be a good while, which vexes me; but I hope all will over in time, or else I am but ill rewarded for my good service. Anon he and I to the Temple and there parted, and I to my cousin Roger Pepys, whom I met going to his chamber; he was in haste, and to go out of town tomorrow. He tells me of a letter from my father which he will keep to read to me at his coming to town again. I perceive it is about my father’s jealousies concerning my wife’s doing ill offices with me against him only from the differences they had when she was there, which he very unwisely continues to have and troubles himself and friends about to speak to me in, as my Lord Sandwich, Mr. Moore, and my cousin Roger, which vexes me, but I must impute it to his age and care for my mother and Pall and so let it go. After little discourse with him I took coach and home, calling upon my bookseller’s for two books, Rushworth’s and Scobell’s Collections. I shall make the King pay for them. The first I spent some time at the office to read and it is an excellent book. So home and spent the evening with my wife in arithmetic, and so to supper and to bed. I end this month with my mind in good condition for anything else, but my unhappy adventuring to disoblige my Lord by doing him service in representing to him the discourse of the world concerning him and his affairs.
December 1663
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon I home to dinner with my poor wife, with whom nowadays I enjoy great pleasure in her company and learning of Arithmetic. After dinner I to Guild Hall to hear a trial at King’s Bench, before Lord Chief Justice Hide, about the insurance of a ship, the same I mention in my yesterday’s journal, where everything was proved how money was so taken up upon bottomary and insurance, and the ship left by the master and seamen upon rocks, where, when the sea fell at the ebb, she must perish. The master was offered help, and he did give the pilots 20 sols to drink to bid them go about their business, saying that the rocks were old, but his ship was new, and that she was repaired for £6 and less all the damage that she received, and is now brought by one, sent for on purpose by the insurers, into the Thames, with her cargo, vessels of tallow daubed over with butter, instead of all butter, the whole not worth above £500, ship and all, and they had took up, as appeared, above £2,400. He had given his men money to content them; and yet, for all this, he did bring some of them to swear that it was very stormy weather, and [they] did all they could to save her, and that she was seven feete deep water in hold, and were fain to cut her main and foremast, that the master was the last man that went out, and they were fain to force [him] out when she was ready to sink; and her rudder broke off, and she was drawn into the harbour after they were gone, as wrecke all broken, and goods lost: that she could not be carried out again without new building, and many other things so contrary as is not imaginable more. There was all the great counsel in the kingdom in the cause; but after one witness or two for the plaintiff, it was cried down as a most notorious cheate; and so the jury, without going out, found it for the plaintiff. But it was pleasant to see what mad sort of testimonies the seamen did give, and could not be got to speak in order: and then their terms such as the judge could not understand; and to hear how sillily the Counsel and judge would speak as to the terms necessary in the matter, would make one laugh: and above all, a Frenchman that was forced to speak in French, and took an English oathe he did not understand, and had an interpreter sworn to tell us what he said, which was the best testimony of all. So home well satisfied with this afternoon’s work, purposing to spend an afternoon or two every term so, and so to my office a while and then home to supper, arithmetic with my wife, and to bed. I heard other causes, and saw the course of pleading by being at this trial, and heard and learnt two things: one is that every man has a right of passage in, but not a title to, any highway. The next, that the judge would not suffer Mr. Crow, who hath fined for Alderman, to be called so, but only Mister, and did eight or nine times fret at it, and stop every man that called him so.
. My wife troubled all last night with the toothache and this morning. I up and to my office, where busy, and so home to dinner with my wife, who is better of her tooth than she was, and in the afternoon by agreement called on by Mr. Bland, and with him to the Ship a neighbour tavern and there met his antagonist Mr. Custos and his referee Mr. Clarke a merchant also, and begun the dispute about the freight of a ship hired by Mr. Bland to carry provisions to Tangier, and the freight is now demanded, whereas he says that the goods were some spoiled, some not delivered, and upon the whole demands £1,300 of the other, and their minds are both so high, their demands so distant, and their words so many and hot against one another that I fear we shall bring it to nothing. But however I am glad to see myself so capable of understanding the business as I find I do, and shall endeavour to do Mr. Bland all the just service I can therein. Here we were in a bad room, which vexed me most, but we meet at another house next. So at noon I home and to my office till 9 o’clock, and so home to my wife to keep her company, arithmetic, then to supper, and to bed, she being well of her tooth again.
. Up and to the office, where all the forenoon, and then (by Mr. Coventry’s coach) to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, very pleasant with my poor wife. Somebody from Portsmouth, I know not who, has this day sent me a Runlett of Tent. So to my office all the afternoon, where much business till late at night, and so home to my wife, and then to supper and to bed. This day Sir G. Carteret did tell us at the table, that the Navy (excepting what is due to the Yards upon the quarter now going on, and what few bills he hath not heard of) is quite out of debt; which is extraordinary good news, and upon the ’Change to hear how our credit goes as good as any merchant’s upon the ’Change is a joyful thing to consider, which God continue! I am sure the King will have the benefit of it, as well as we some peace and credit.
. Up pretty betimes, that is about 7 o’clock, it being now dark then, and so got me ready, with my clothes, breeches and warm stockings, and by water with Henry Russell, cold and wet and windy to Woolwich, to a hemp ship there, and stayed looking upon it and giving direction as to the getting it ashore, and so back again very cold, and at home without going on shore anywhere about 12 o’clock, being fearful of taking cold, and so dined at home and shifted myself, and so all the afternoon at my office till night, and then home to keep my poor wife company, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and then with the whole board, viz., Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and myself along with Captain Allen home to dinner, where he lives hard by in Mark Lane, where we had a very good plain dinner and good welcome, in a pretty little house but so smoky that it was troublesome to us all till they put out the fire, and made one of charcoale. I was much pleased with this dinner for the many excellent stories told by Mr. Coventry, which I have put down in my book of tales and so shall not mention them here. We stayed till night, and then Mr. Coventry away, and by and by I home to my office till 9 or 10 at night, and so home to supper and to bed after some talk and Arithmetic with my poor wife, with whom nowadays I live with great content, out of all trouble of mind by jealousy (for which God forgive me), or any other distraction more than my fear of my Lord Sandwich’s displeasure.
. Lay long in bed, and then up and to church alone, which is the greatest trouble that I have by not having a man or, boy to wait on me, and so home to dinner, my wife, it being a cold day, and it begun to snow (the first snow we have seen this year) kept her bed till after dinner, and I below by myself looking over my arithmetic books and timber rule. So my wife rose anon, and she and I all the afternoon at arithmetic, and she is come to do Addition, Subtraction, and Multiplicacion very well, and so I purpose not to trouble her yet with Division, but to begin with the Globes to her now. At night came Captain Grove to discourse with me about Field’s business and of other matters, and so, he being gone, I to my office, and spent an houre or two reading Rushworth, and so to supper home, and to prayers and bed, finding myself by cold to have some pain begin with me, which God defend should increase.
. Up betimes, and, it being a frosty morning, walked on foot to Whitehall, but not without some fear of my pain coming. At Whitehall I hear and find that there was the last night the greatest tide that ever was remembered in England to have been in this river: all Whitehall having been drowned, of which there was great discourse.2002 Anon we all met, and up with the Duke and did our business, and by and by my Lord of Sandwich came in, but whether it be my doubt or no I cannot tell, but I do not find that he made any sign of kindness or respect to me, which troubles me more than anything in the world. After done there Sir W. Batten and Captain Allen and I by coach to the Temple, where I ’light, they going home, and indeed it being my trouble of mind to try whether I could meet with my Lord Sandwich and try him to see how he will receive me. I took coach and back again to Whitehall, but there could not find him. But here I met Dr. Clerke, and did tell him my story of my health; how my pain comes to me nowadays. He did write something for me which I shall take when there is occasion. I then fell to other discourse of Dr. Knapp,2003 who tells me he is the King’s physician, and is become a solicitor for places for people, and I am mightily troubled with him. He tells me he is the most impudent fellow in the world, that gives himself out to be the King’s physician, but it is not so, but is cast out of the Court. From thence I may learn what impudence there is in the world, and how a man may be deceived in persons. Anon the King and Duke and Duchess came to dinner in the Vane-roome, where I never saw them before; but it seems since the tables are done, he dines there all together. The Queen is pretty well, and goes out of her chamber to her little chapel in the house. The King of France, they say, is hiring of sixty sail of ships of the Dutch, but it is not said for what design. By and by, not hoping to see my Lord, I went to the King’s Head ordinary, where a good dinner but no discourse almost, and after dinner by coach, home, and found my wife this cold day not yet out of bed, and after a little good talk with her to my office, and there spent my time till late. Sir W. Warren two or three hours with me talking of trade, and other very good discourse, which did please me very well, and so, after reading in Rushworth, home to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and then up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and among other things my Lord Barkely called in question his clerk Mr. Davy for something which Sir W. Batten and I did tell him yesterday, but I endeavoured to make the least of it, and so all was put up. At noon to the ’Change, and among other businesses did discourse with Captain Taylor, and I think I shall safely get £20 by his ship’s freight at present, besides what it may be I may get hereafter. So home to dinner, and thence by coach to Whitehall, where a great while walked with my Lord Tiviott, whom I find a most careful, thoughtful, and cunning man, as I also ever took him to be. He is this day bringing in an account where he makes the King debtor to him £10,000 already on the garrison of Tangier account; but yet demands not ready money to pay it, but offers such ways of paying it out of the sale of old decayed provisions as will enrich him finely. Anon came my Lord Sandwich, and then we fell to our business at the Committee about my Lord Tiviott’s accounts, wherein I took occasion to speak now and then, so as my Lord Sandwich did well seem to like of it, and after we were up did bid me good night in a tone that, methinks, he is not so displeased with me as I did doubt he is; however, I will take a course to know whether he be or no. The Committee done, I took coach and home to my office, and there late, and so to supper at home, and to bed, being doubtful of my pain through the very cold weather which we have, but I will take all the care I can to prevent it.
. Lay very long in bed for fear of my pain, and then rose and went to stool (after my wife’s way, who by all means would have me sit long and upright) very well, and being ready to the office. From thence I was called by and by to my wife, she not being well. So to her, and found her in great pain. … So by and by to my office again, and then abroad to look out a cradle to burn charcoal in at my office, and I found one to my mind in Newgate Market, and so meeting Hoby’s man in the street, I spoke to him to serve it in to the office for the King. So home to dinner, and after talk with my wife, she in bed and pain all day, I to my office most of the evening, and then home to my wife. This day Mrs. Russell did give my wife a very fine St. George, in alabaster, which will set out my wife’s closet mightily. This evening at the office, after I had wrote my day’s passages, there came to me my cousin Angier of Cambridge, poor man, making his moan, and obtained of me that I would send his son to sea as a Reformado,2004 which I will take care to do. But to see how apt every man is to forget friendship in time of adversity. How glad was I when he was gone, for fear he should ask me to be bond for him, or to borrow money of me.
. Up, pretty well, the weather being become pretty warm again, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I confess having received so lately a token from Mrs. Russell, I did find myself concerned for our not buying some tallow of her (which she bought on purpose yesterday most unadvisedly to her great losse upon confidence of putting it off to us). So hard it is for a man not to be warped against his duty and master’s interest that receives any bribe or present, though not as a bribe, from anybody else. But she must be contented, and I to do her a good turn when I can without wrong to the King’s service. Then home to dinner (and did drink a glass of wine and beer, the more for joy that this is the shortest day in the year2005 which is a pleasant consideration) with my wife. She in bed but pretty well, and having a messenger from my brother, that he is not well nor stirs out of doors, I went forth to see him, and found him below, he has not been well, but is not ill. I found him taking order for the distribution of Mrs. Ramsey’s coals, a thing my father for many years did, and now he after him, which I was glad to see, as also to hear that Mr. Wheatly begins to look after him. I hope it is about his daughter. Thence to St. Paul’s Church Yard, to my bookseller’s, and having gained this day in the office by my stationer’s bill to the King about 40s. or £3, I did here sit two or three hours calling for twenty books to lay this money out upon, and found myself at a great losse where to choose, and do see how my nature would gladly return to laying out money in this trade. I could not tell whether to lay out my money for books of pleasure, as plays, which my nature was most earnest in; but at last, after seeing Chaucer, Dugdale’s History of Paul’s, Stow’s London, Gesner, History of Trent,2006 besides Shakespeare, Jonson, and Beaumont’s plays, I at last chose Dr. Fuller’s Worthys, the Cabbala or Collections of Letters of State,2007 and a little book, Delices de Hollande, with another little book or two, all of good use or serious pleasure: and Hudibras, both parts, the book now in greatest fashion for drollery, though I cannot, I confess, see enough where the wit lies. My mind being thus settled, I went by linke home, and so to my office, and to read in Rushworth; and so home to supper and to bed. Calling at Wotton’s, my shoemaker’s, today, he tells me that Sir H. Wright is dying; and that Harris is come to the Duke’s house again; and of a rare play to be acted this week of Sir William Davenant’s: the story of Henry the Eighth with all his wives.2008
. Up and abroad toward the Wardrobe, and going out Mr. Clerke met me to tell me that Field has a writ against me in this last business of £30 10s., and that he believes he will get an execution against me this morning, and though he told me it could not be well before noon, and that he would stop it at the Sheriff’s, yet it is hard to believe with what fear I did walk and how I did doubt at every man I saw and do start at the hearing of one man cough behind my neck. I to the Wardrobe and there missed Mr. Moore. So to Mr. Holden’s and evened all reckonings there for hats, and then walked to Paul’s Churchyard and after a little at my bookseller’s and bought at a shop Cardinall Mazarin’s Will in French. I to the Coffeehouse and there among others had good discourse with an Iron Merchant, who tells me the great evil of discouraging our natural manufacture of England in that commodity by suffering the Swede to bring in three times more than ever they did and our own Ironworks be lost, as almost half of them, he says, are already. Then I went and sat by Mr. Harrington, and some East country merchants, and talking of the country about Quinsborough,2009 and thereabouts, he told us himself that for fish, none there, the poorest body, will buy a dead fish, but must be alive, unless it be in winter; and then they told us the manner of putting their nets into the water. Through holes made in the thick ice, they will spread a net of half a mile long; and he hath known a hundred and thirty and a hundred and seventy barrels of fish taken at one draught. And then the people come with sledges upon the ice, with snow at the bottome, and lay the fish in and cover them with snow, and so carry them to market. And he hath seen when the said fish have been frozen in the sledge, so as that he hath taken a fish and broke a-pieces, so hard it hath been; and yet the same fishes taken out of the snow, and brought into a hot room, will be alive and leap up and down. Swallows are often brought up in their nets out of the mud from under water, hanging together to some twig or other, dead in ropes, and brought to the fire will come to life. Fowl killed in December (Alderman Barker said) he did buy, and putting into the box under his sledge, did forget to take them out to eate till Aprill next, and they then were found there, and were through the frost as sweet and fresh and eat as well as at first killed. Young beares are there; their flesh sold in market as ordinarily as beef here, and is excellent sweet meat. They tell us that beares there do never hurt anybody, but fly away from you, unless you pursue and set upon them; but wolves do much mischief. Mr. Harrington told us how they do to get so much honey as they send abroad. They make hollow a great fir-tree, leaving only a small slit down straight in one place, and this they close up again, only leave a little hole, and there the bees go in and fill the bodies of those trees as full of wax and honey as they can hold; and the inhabitants at times go and open the slit, and take what they please without killing the bees, and so let them live there still and make more. Fir trees are always planted close together, because of keeping one another from the violence of the windes; and when a fell is made, they leave here and there a grown tree to preserve the young ones coming up. The great entertainment and sport of the Duke of Corland, and the princes thereabouts, is hunting; which is not with dogs as we, but he appoints such a day, and summons all the country-people as to a campagnia; and by several companies gives everyone their circuit, and they agree upon a place where the toil is to be set; and so making fires every company as they go, they drive all the wild beasts, whether bears, wolves, foxes, swine, and stags, and roes, into the toil; and there the great men have their stands in such and such places, and shoot at what they have a mind to, and that is their hunting. They are not very populous there, by reason that people marry women seldom till they are towards or above thirty; and men thirty or forty years old, or more oftentimes. Against a public hunting the Duke sends that no wolves be killed by the people; and whatever harm they do, the Duke makes it good to the person that suffers it: as Mr. Harrington instanced in a house where he lodged, where a wolfe broke into a hog-stye, and bit three or four great pieces off the back of the hog, before the house could come to help it (it calling, and that did give notice to the people of the house); and the man of the house told him that there were three or four wolves thereabouts that did them great hurt; but it was no matter, for the Duke was to make it good to him, otherwise he would kill them. Hence home and upstairs, my wife keeping her bed, and had a very good dinner, and after dinner to my office, and there till late busy. Among other things Captain Taylor came to me about his bill for freight, and besides that I found him contented that I have the £30 I got, he do offer me to give me £6 to take the getting of the bill paid upon me, which I am ready to do, but I am loath to have it said that I ever did it. However, I will do him the service to get it paid if I can and stand to his courtesy what he will give me. Late to supper home, and to my great joy I have by my wife’s good advice almost brought myself by going often and leisurely to the stool that I am come almost to have my natural course of stool as well as ever, which I pray God continue to me.
. Up and to the office where all the morning, and among other things got Sir G. Carteret to put his letters to Captain Taylor’s bill by which I am in hopes to get £5, which joys my heart. We had this morning a great dispute between Mr. Gauden, Victualler of the Navy, and Sir J. Lawson, and the rest of the Commanders going against Argier, about their fish and keeping of Lent; which Mr. Gauden so much insists upon to have it observed, as being the only thing that makes up the loss of his dear bargain all the rest of the year. At noon went home and there I found that one Abrahall, who strikes in for the serving of the King with Ship chandlery ware, has sent my wife a Japan gown, which pleases her very well and me also, it coming very opportune, but I know not how to carry myself to him, I being already obliged so far to Mrs. Russell, so that I am in both their pays. To the Exchange, where I had sent Luellin word I would come to him, and thence brought him home to dinner with me. He tells me that W. Symon’s wife is dead, for which I am sorry, she being a good woman, and tells me an odde story of her saying before her death, being in good sense, that there stood her uncle Scobell. Then he began to tell me that Mr. Deering had been with him to desire him to speak to me that if I would get him off with these goods upon his hands, he would give me 50 pieces, and further that if I would stand his friend to help him to the benefit of his patent as the King’s merchant, he could spare me £200 per annum out of his profits. I was glad to hear both of these, but answered him no further than that as I would not by anything be bribed to be unjust in my dealings,2010 so I was not so squeamish as not to take people’s acknowledgment where I had the good fortune by my pains to do them good and just offices, and so I would not come to be at any agreement with him, but I would labour to do him this service and to expect his consideration thereof afterwards as he thought fit. So I expect to hear more of it. I did make very much of Luellin in hopes to have some good by this business, and in the evening received some money from Mr. Moore, and so went and settled accounts in my books between him and me, and I do hope at Christmas not only to find myself as rich or more than ever I was yet, but also my accounts in less compass, fewer reckonings either of debts or moneys due to me, than ever I have been for some years, and indeed do so, the goodness of God bringing me from better to a better expectation and hopes of doing well. This day I heard my Lord Barkeley tell Sir G. Carteret that he hath letters from France that the King hath unduked twelve Dukes, only to show his power and to crush his nobility, who he said he did see had heretofore laboured to cross him. And this my Lord Barkeley did mightily magnify, as a sign of a brave and vigorous mind, that what he saw fit to be done he dares do. At night, after business done at my office, home to supper and to bed. I have forgot to set down a very remarkable passage that, Lewellen being gone, and I going into the office, and it begun to be dark, I found nobody there, my clerks being at the burial of a child of W. Griffin’s, and so I spent a little time till they came, walking in the garden, and in the meantime, while I was walking Mrs. Penn’s pretty maid came by my side, and went into the office, but finding nobody there I went in to her, being glad of the occasion. She told me as she was going out again that there was nobody there, and that she came for a sheet of paper. So I told her I would supply her, and left her in the office and went into my office and opened my garden door, thinking to have got her in, and there to have caressed her, and seeming looking for paper, I told her this way was as near a way for her, but she told me she had left the door open and so did not come to me. So I carried her some paper and kissed her, leading her by the hand to the garden door and there let her go. But, Lord! to see how much I was put out of order by this surprisal, and how much I could have subjected my mind to have treated and been found with this wench, and how afterwards I was troubled to think what if she should tell this and whether I had spoke or done anything that might be unfit for her to tell. But I think there was nothing more passed than just what I here write.
. Up and made me ready for Church, but my wife and I had a difference about her old folly that she would fasten lies upon her maids, and now upon Jane, which I did not see enough to confirm me in it, and so would not consent to her. To church, where after sermon home, and to my office, before dinner, reading my vowes, and so home to dinner, where Tom came to me and he and I dined together, my wife not rising all day, and after dinner I made even accounts with him, and spent all the afternoon in my chamber talking of many things with him, and about Wheately’s daughter for a wife for him, and then about the Joyces and their father Fenner, how they are sometimes all honey one with another and then all turd, and a strange rude life there is among them. In the evening, he gone, I to my office to read Rushworth upon the charge and answer of the Duke of Buckingham, which is very fine, and then to do a little business against tomorrow, and so home to supper to my wife, and then to bed.
. Up by candlelight, which I do not use to do, though it be very late, that is to say almost 8 o’clock, and out by coach to Whitehall, where we all met and to the Duke, where I heard a large discourse between one that goes over an agent from the King to Legorne and thereabouts, to remove the inconveniences his ships are put to by denial of pratique; which is a thing that is nowadays made use of only as a cheat, for a man may buy a bill of health for a piece of eight, and my enemy may agree with the Intendent of the Sante for ten pieces of eight or so; that he shall not give me a bill of health, and so spoil me in my design, whatever it be. This the King will not endure, and so resolves either to have it removed, or to keep all ships from coming in, or going out there, so long as his ships are stayed for want hereof. Then, my Lord Sandwich being there, we all went into the Duke’s closet and did our business. But among other things, Lord! what an account did Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten make of the pulling down and burning of the head of the Charles, where Cromwell was placed with people under his horse, and Peter, as the Duke called him, is praying to him;2011 and Sir J. Minnes would needs infer the temper of the people from their joy at the doing of this and their building a gibbet for the hanging of his head up, when God knows, it is even the flinging away of £100 out of the King’s purse, to the building of another, which it seems must be a Neptune. Thence I through Whitehall only to see what was doing, but meeting none that I knew I went through the garden to my Lord Sandwich’s lodging, where I found my Lord got before me (which I did not intend or expect) and was there trying some music, which he intends for an anthem of three parts, I know not whether for the King’s chapel or no, but he seems mighty intent upon it. But it did trouble me to hear him swear before God and other oathes, as he did now and then without any occasion, which methinks did so ill become him, and I hope will be a caution for me, it being so ill a thing in him. The music being done, without showing me any good or ill countenance, he did give me his hat and so adieu, and went down to his coach without saying anything to me. He being gone I and Mr. Howe talked a good while. He tells me that my Lord, it is true, for a while after my letter, was displeased, and did show many slightings of me when he had occasion of mentioning me to his Lordship, but that now my Lord is in good temper and he do believe will show me as much respect as ever, and would have me not to refrain to come to him. This news I confess did much trouble me, but when I did hear how he is come to himself, and hath wholly left Chelsy, and the slut, and that I see he do follow his business, and becomes in better repute than before, I am rejoiced to see it, though it do cost me some disfavour for a time, for if not his good nature and ingenuity, yet I believe his memory will not bear it always in his mind. But it is my comfort that this is the thing that after so many years good service that has made him my enemy. Thence to the King’s Head ordinary, and there dined among a company of fine gentlemen; some of them discoursed of the King of France’s greatness, and how he is come to make the Princes of the Blood to take place of all foreign Embassadors, which it seems is granted by them of Venice and other States, and expected from my Lord Hollis,2012 our King’s Embassador there; and that either upon that score or something else he hath not had his entry yet in Paris, but hath received several affronts, and among others his harness cut, and his gentlemen of his horse killed, which will breed bad blood if true. They say also that the King of France hath hired threescore ships of Holland, and forty of the Swede, but nobody knows what to do; but some great designs he hath on foot against the next year. Thence by coach home and to my office, where I spent all the evening till night with Captain Taylor discoursing about keeping of masts, and when he was gone, with Sir W. Warren, who did give me excellent discourse about the same thing, which I have committed to paper, and then fell to other talk of his being at Chatham lately and there discoursing of his masts. Commissioner Pett did let fall several scurvy words concerning my pretending to know masts as well as anybody, which I know proceeds ever since I told him I could measure a piece of timber as well as anybody employed by the King. But, however, I shall remember him for a black sheep again a good while, with all his fair words to me, and perhaps may let him know that my ignorance does the King as much good as all his knowledge, which would do more it is true if it were well used. Then we fell to talk of Sir J. Minnes’s and Sir W. Batten’s burning of Oliver’s head, while he was there; which was done with so much insulting and folly as I never heard of, and had the Trained Band of Rochester to come to the solemnity, which when all comes to all, Commissioner Pett says it never was made for him; but it troubles me the King should suffer £100 losse in his purse, to make a new one after it was forgot whose it was, or any words spoke of it. He being gone I mightily pleased with his discourse, by which I always learn something, I to read a little in Rushworth, and so home to supper to my wife, it having been washing day, and so to bed, my mind I confess a little troubled for my Lord Sandwich’s displeasure. But God will give me patience to bear since it rises from so good an occasion.
. Before I was up, my brother’s man came to tell me that my cousin, Edward Pepys, was dead, died at Mrs. Turner’s, for which my wife and I are very sorry, and the more for that his wife was the only handsome woman of our name.2013 So up and to the office, where the greatest business was Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten against me for Sir W. Warren’s contract for masts, to which I may go to my memorandum book to see what past, but came off with conquest, and my Lord Barkely and Mr. Coventry well convinced that we are well used. So home to dinner, and thither came to me Mr. Mount and Mr. Luellin, I think almost foxed, and there dined with me and very merry as I could be, my mind being troubled to see things so ordered at the Board, though with no disparagement to me at all. At dinner comes a messenger from the Counter with an execution against me for the £30 10s., given the last verdict to Field. The man’s name is Thomas, of the Poultry Counter. I sent Griffin with him to the Dolphin, where Sir W. Batten was at dinner, and he being satisfied that I should pay the money, I did cause the money to be paid him, and Griffin to tell it out to him in the office. He offered to go along with me to Sir R. Ford, but I thought it not necessary, but let him go with it, he also telling me that there is never any receipt for it given, but I have good witness of the payment of it. They being gone, Luellin having again told me by myself that Deering is content to give me £50 if I can sell his deals for him to the King, not that I did ever offer to take it, or bid Luellin bargain for me with him, but did tacitly seem to be willing to do him what service I could in it, and expect his thanks, what he thought good. Thence to Whitehall by coach, by the way overtaking Mr. Moore, and took him into the coach to me, and there he could tell me nothing of my Lord, how he stands as to his thoughts or respect to me, but concludes that though at present he may be angry yet he will come to be pleased again with me no doubt, and says that he do mind his business well, and keeps at Court. So to Whitehall, and there by order found some of the Commissioners of Tangier met, and my Lord Sandwich among the rest, to whom I bowed, but he showed me very little if any countenance at all, which troubles me mightily. Having soon done there, I took up Mr. Moore again and set him down at Pauls, by the way he proposed to me of a way of profit which perhaps may shortly be made by money by fines upon houses at the Wardrobe, but how I did not understand but left it to another discourse. So homeward, calling upon Mr. Fen, by Sir G. Carteret’s desire, and did there show him the bill of Captain Taylor’s whereby I hope to get something justly. Home and to my office, and there very late with Sir W. Warren upon very serious discourse, telling him how matters passed today, and in the close he and I did fall to talk very openly of the business of this office, and (if I was not a little too open to tell him my interest, which is my fault) he did give me most admirable advice, and such as do speak him a most able and worthy man, and understanding seven times more than ever I thought to be in him. He did particularly run over every one of the officers and commanders, and showed me how I had reason to mistrust every one of them, either for their falseness or their over-great power, being too high to fasten a real friendship in, and did give me a common but a most excellent saying to observe in all my life. He did give it in rhyme, but the sense was this, that a man should treat every friend in his discourse and opening his mind to him as of one that may hereafter be his foe. He did also advise me how I should take occasion to make known to the world my case, and the pains that I take in my business, and above all to be sure to get a thorough knowledge in my employment, and to that add all the interest at Court that I can, which I hope I shall do. He stayed talking with me till almost 12 at night, and so good night, being sorry to part with him, and more sorry that he should have as far as Wapping to walk tonight. So I to my Journal and so home, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with my head and heart full of my business, I to my office, and there all the morning, where among other things to my great content Captain Taylor brought me £40, the greater part of which I shall gain to myself after much care and pains out of his bill of freight, as I have at large set down in my book of Memorandums. At noon to the ’Change and there met with Mr. Wood by design, and got out of him to my advantage a condition which I shall make good use of against Sir W. Batten (vide my book of Memorandums touching the contract of masts of Sir W. Warren about which I have had so much trouble). So home to dinner and then to the Star Tavern hard by to our arbitration of Mr. Bland’s business, and at it a great while, but I found no order like to be kept in our inquiry, and Mr. Clerke, the other arbitrator, one so far from being fit (though able as to his trade of a merchant) to inquire and to take pains in searching out the truth on both sides, that we parted without doing anything, nor do I believe we shall at all ever attain to anything in it. Then home and till 12 at night making up my accounts with great account of this day’s receipt of Captain Taylor’s money and some money reimbursed me which I have laid out on Field’s business. So home with my mind in pretty good quiet, and to Supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to my poor wife and dined, and then by coach abroad to Mrs. Turner’s where I have not been for many a day, and there I found her and her sister Dike very sad for the death of their brother.2014 After a little common expression of sorrow, Mrs. Turner told me that the trouble she would put me to was, to consult about getting an achievement prepared, scutcheons were done already, to set over the door. So I did go out to Mr. Smith’s, where my brother tells me the scutcheons are made, but he not being within, I went to the Temple, and there spent my time in a Bookseller’s shop, reading in a book of some Embassages into Moscovia, etc., where was very good reading, and then to Mrs. Turner’s, and thither came Smith to me, with whom I did agree for £4 to make a handsome one, ell square within the frame. After he was gone I sat an houre talking of the suddenness of his death within 7 days, and how by little and little death came upon him, neither he nor they thinking it would come to that. He died after a day’s raving, through lightness in his head for want of sleep. His lady did not know of his sickness, nor do they hear yet how she takes it. Hence home, taking some books by the way in Paul’s Churchyard by coach to my office, where late doing business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after being ready and done several businesses with people, I took water (taking a dram of the bottle at the waterside) with a gally, the first that ever I had yet, and down to Woolwich, calling at Ham Creeke, where I met Mr. Deane, and had a great deal of talk with him about business, and so to the Ropeyarde and Docke, discoursing several things, and so back again and did the like at Deptford, and I find that it is absolutely necessary for me to do thus once a weeke at least all the yeare round, which will do me great good, and so home with great ease and content, especially out of the content which I met with in a book I bought yesterday, being a discourse of the state of Rome under the present Pope, Alexander the 7th, it being a very excellent piece. After eating something at home, then to my office, where till night about business to dispatch. Among other people came Mr. Primate, the leather seller, in Fleet Street, to see me, he says, coming this way; and he tells me that he is upon a proposal to the King, whereby, by a law already in being, he will supply the King, without wrong to any man, or charge to the people in general, so much as it is now, above £200,000 per annum, and God knows what, and that the King do like the proposal, and hath directed that the Duke of Monmouth, with their consent, be made privy, and go along with him and his fellow proposer in the business, God knows what it is; for I neither can guess nor believe there is any such thing in his head. At night made an end of the discourse I read this morning, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I laboured hard at Deering’s business of his deals more than I would if I did not think to get something, though I do really believe that I did what is to the King’s advantage in it, and yet, God knows, the expectation of profit will have its force and make a man the more earnest. Dined at home, and then with Mr. Bland to another meeting upon his arbitration, and seeing we were likely to do no good I even put them upon it, and they chose Sir W. Rider alone to end the matter, and so I am rid of it. Thence by coach to my shoemaker’s and paid all there, and gave something to the boys’ box against Christmas. To Mrs. Turner’s, whom I find busy with Sir W. Turner,2015 about advising upon going down to Norfolke with the corpse, and I find him in talk a sober, considering man. So home to my office late, and then home to supper and to bed. My head full of business, but pretty good content.
. Up and alone to church, where a common sermon of Mr. Mills, and so home to dinner in our parlor, my wife being clean, and the first time we have dined here a great while together, and in the afternoon went to church with me also, and there begun to take her place above Mrs. Penn, which heretofore out of a humour she was wont to give her as an affront to my Lady Batten. After a dull sermon of the Scotchman, home, and there I found my brother Tom and my two cousins Scotts, he and she, the first time they were ever here. And by and by in comes my uncle Wight and Mr. Norbury, and they sat with us a while drinking of wine, of which I did give them plenty. But the two would not stay supper, but the other two did. And we were as merry as I could be with people that I do wish well to, but know not what discourse either to give them or find from them. We showed them our house from top to bottom, and had a good Turkey roasted for our supper, and store of wine, and after supper sent them home on foot, and so we to prayers and to bed.
. Up betimes, my wife having a mind to have gone abroad with me, but I had not because of troubling me, and so left her, though against my will, to go and see her father and mother by herself, and I straight to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there I had a pretty kind salute from my Lord, and went on to the Duke’s, where my fellow officers by and by came, and so in with him to his closet, and did our business, and so broke up, and I with Sir W. Batten by coach to Salisbury Court, and there spoke with Clerk our Solicitor about Field’s business, and so parted, and I to Mrs. Turner’s, and there saw the achievement pretty well set up, and it is well done. Thence I on foot to Charing Crosse to the ordinary, and there dined, meeting Mr. Gauden and Creed. Here variety of talk but to no great purpose. After dinner won a wager of a pair of gloves of a crown of Mr. Gauden upon some words in his contract for victualling. There parted in the street with them, and I to my Lord’s, but he not being within, took coach, and, being directed by sight of bills upon the walls, I did go to Shoe Lane2016 to see a cocke-fighting at a new pit there, a sport I was never at in my life; but, Lord! to see the strange variety of people, from Parliament-man (by name Wildes, that was Deputy Governor of the Tower when Robinson was Lord Mayor) to the poorest ’prentices, bakers, brewers, butchers, draymen, and whatnot; and all these fellows one with another in swearing, cursing, and betting. I soon had enough of it, and yet I would not but have seen it once, it being strange to observe the nature of these poor creatures, how they will fight till they drop down dead upon the table, and strike after they are ready to give up the ghost, not offering to run away when they are weary or wounded past doing further, whereas where a dunghill brood comes he will, after a sharp stroke that pricks him, run off the stage, and then they wring off his neck without more ado, whereas the other they preserve, though their eyes be both out, for breed only of a true cock of the game. Sometimes a cock that has had ten to one against him will by chance give an unlucky blow, will strike the other starke dead in a moment, that he never stirs more; but the common rule is, that though a cock neither runs nor dies, yet if any man will bet £10 to a crown, and nobody take the bet, the game is given over, and not sooner. One thing more it is strange to see how people of this poor rank, that look as if they had not bread to put in their mouths, shall bet three or four pounds at one bet, and lose it, and yet bet as much the next battle (so they call every match of two cocks), so that one of them will lose £10 or £20 at a meeting. Thence, having enough of it, by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, where I find him within with Captain Cooke and his boys, Dr. Childe, Mr. Madge,2017 and Mallard, playing and singing over my Lord’s anthem which he hath made to sing in the King’s Chapel: my Lord saluted me kindly and took me into the withdrawing-room, to hear it at a distance, and indeed it sounds very finely, and is a good thing, I believe, to be made by him, and they all commend it. And after that was done Captain Cooke and his two boys did sing some Italian songs, which I must in a word say I think was fully the best music that I ever yet heard in all my life, and it was to me a very great pleasure to hear them. After all music ended, my Lord going to Whitehall, I went along with him, and made a desire for to have his coach to go along with my cousin Edward Pepys’s hearse through the City on Wednesday next, which he granted me presently, though he cannot yet come to speak to me in the familiar stile that he did use to do, nor can I expect it. But I was the willinger of this occasion to see whether he would deny me or no, which he would I believe had he been at open defiance against me. Being not a little pleased with all this, though I yet see my Lord is not right yet, I thanked his Lordship and parted with him in Whitehall. I back to my Lord’s, and there took up W. Howe in a coach, and carried him as far as the Half Moone, and there set him down. By the way, talking of my Lord, who is come another and a better man than he was lately, and God be praised for it, and he says that I shall find my Lord as he used to be to me, of which I have good hopes, but I shall beware of him, I mean W. Howe, how I trust him, for I perceive he is not so discreet as I took him for, for he has told Captain Ferrers (as Mr. Moore tells me) of my letter to my Lord, which troubles me, for fear my Lord should think that I might have told him. So called with my coach at my wife’s brother’s lodging, but she was gone newly in a coach homewards, and so I drove hard and overtook her at Temple Bar, and there paid off mine, and went home with her in her coach. She tells me how there is a sad house among her friends. Her brother’s wife proves very unquiet, and so her mother is gone back to be with her husband and leave the young couple to themselves, and great trouble, and I fear great want, will be among them, I pray keep me from being troubled with them. At home to put on my gown and to my office, and there set down this day’s Journal, and by and by comes Mrs. Owen, Captain Allen’s daughter, and causes me to stay while the papers relating to her husband’s place, bought of his father, be copied out because of her going by this morning’s tide home to Chatham.2018 Which vexes me, but there is no help for it. I home to supper while a young [man] that she brought with her did copy out the things, and then I to the office again and dispatched her, and so home to bed.
. Up and there comes my she cousin Angier, of Cambridge, to me to speak about her son. But though I love them, and have reason so to do, yet, Lord! to consider how cold I am to speak to her, for fear of giving her too much hopes of expecting either money or anything else from me besides my care of her son. I let her go without drinking, though that was against my will, being forced to hasten to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I to Sir R. Ford’s, where Sir R. Browne (a dull but it seems upon action a hot man), and he and I met upon setting a price upon the freight of a barge sent to France to the Duchess of Orleans. And here by discourse I find them greatly crying out against the choice of Sir J. Cutler to be Treasurer for Paul’s upon condition that he give £1,500 towards it, and it seems he did give it upon condition that he might be Treasurer for the work, which they say will be worth three times as much money, and talk as if his being chosen to the office will make people backward to give, but I think him as likely a man as either of them, or better. The business being done we parted, Sir R. Ford never inviting me to dine with him at all, and I was not sorry for it. Home and dined. I had a letter from W. Howe that my Lord hath ordered his coach and six horses for me tomorrow, which pleases me mightily to think that my Lord should do so much, hoping thereby that his anger is a little over. After dinner abroad with my wife by coach to Westminster, and set her at Mrs. Hunt’s while I about my business, having in our way met with Captain Ferrers luckily to speak to him about my coach, who was going in all haste thither, and I perceive the King and Duke and all the Court was going to the Duke’s playhouse to see Henry VIII acted, which is said to be an admirable play. But, Lord! to see how near I was to have broken my oathe, or run the hazard of 20s. losse, so much my nature was hot to have gone thither; but I did not go, but having spoke with W. Howe and known how my Lord did do this kindly as I would have it, I did go to Westminster Hall, and there met Hawley, and walked a great while with him. Among other discourse encouraging him to pursue his love to Mrs. Lane, while God knows I had a roguish meaning in it. Thence calling my wife home by coach, calling at several places, and to my office, where late, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I hear for certain that my Lady Castlemaine is turned Papist, which the Queen for all do not much like, thinking that she do it not for conscience sake.2019 I heard today of a great fray lately between Sir H. Finch’s coachman, who struck with his whip a coachman of the King’s to the losse of one of his eyes; at which the people of the Exchange seeming to laugh and make sport with some words of contempt to him, my Lord Chamberlin did come from the King to shut up the ’Change, and by the help of a justice, did it; but upon petition to the King it was opened again.2020
. Up betimes and my wife; and being in as mourning a dress as we could, at present, without cost, put ourselves into, we by Sir W. Penn’s coach to Mrs. Turner’s, at Salisbury Court, where I find my Lord’s coach and six horses. We stayed till almost eleven o’clock, and much company came, and anon, the corpse being put into the hearse, and the scutcheons set upon it, we all took coach, and I and my wife and Auditor Beale in my Lord Sandwich’s coach, and went next to Mrs. Turner’s mourning coach, and so through all the City and Shoreditch, I believe about twenty coaches, and four or five with six and four horses. Being come thither, I made up to the mourners, and bidding them a good journey, I took leave and back again, and setting my wife into a hackney out of Bishopsgate Street, I sent her home, and I to the ’Change and Auditor Beale about his business. Did much business at the ’Change, and so home to dinner, and then to my office, and there late doing business also to my great content to see God bless me in my place and opening honest ways, I hope to get a little money to lay up and yet to live handsomely. So to supper and to bed. My wife having strange fits of the toothache, some times on this, and by and by on that side of her tooth, which is not common.
. Up betimes; and though it was a most foggy morning, and cold, yet with a gally down to Eriffe,2021 several times being at a loss whither we went. There I mustered two ships of the King’s, lent by him to the Guinea Company, which are manned better than ours at far less wages. Thence on board two of the King’s, one of them the Leopard, Captain Beech, who I find an able and serious man. He received me civilly, and his wife was there, a very well bred and knowing woman, born at Antwerp, but speaks as good English as myself, and an ingenious woman. Here was also Sir G. Carteret’s son, who I find a pretty, but very talking man, but good humour. Thence back again, entertaining myself upon my sliding rule with great content, and called at Woolwich, where Mr. Chr. Pett having an opportunity of being alone did tell me his mind about several things he thought I was offended with him in, and told me of my kindness to his assistant. I did give him such an answer as I thought was fit and left him well satisfied, he offering to do me all the service, either by draughts or modells that I should desire. Thence straight home, being very cold, but yet well, I thank God, and at home found my wife making mince pies, and by and by comes in Captain Ferrers to see us, and, among other talk, tells us of the goodness of the new play of Henry VIII, which makes me think [it] long till my time is out; but I hope before I go I shall set myself such a stint as I may not forget myself as I have hitherto done till I was forced for these months last past wholly to forbid myself the seeing of one. He gone I to my office and there late writing and reading, and so home to bed.
. Lay long talking pleasantly with my wife, but among other things she begun, I know not whether by design or chance, to enquire what she should do if I should by any accident die, to which I did give her some slight answer; but shall make good use of it to bring myself to some settlement for her sake, by making a will as soon as I can. Up and to church, where Mr. Mills made an ordinary sermon, and so home and dined with great pleasure with my wife, and all the afternoon first looking out at window and seeing the boys playing at many several sports in our back yard by Sir W. Penn’s, which reminded me of my own former times, and then I began to read to my wife upon the globes with great pleasure and to good purpose, for it will be pleasant to her and to me to have her understand these things. In the evening at the office, where I stayed late reading Rushworth, which is a most excellent collection of the beginning of the late quarrels in this kingdom, and so home to supper and to bed, with good content of mind.
. Up and walked forth first to the Minories to Brown’s, and there with great pleasure saw and bespoke several instruments, and so to Cornhill to Mr. Cades, and there went up into his warehouse to look for a map or two, and there finding great plenty of good pictures, God forgive me! how my mind run upon them, and bought a little one for my wife’s closet presently, and concluded presently of buying £10 worth, upon condition he would give me the buying of them. Now it is true I did still within me resolve to make the King one way or other pay for them, though I saved it to him another way, yet I find myself too forward to fix upon the expense, and came away with a resolution of buying them, but do hope that I shall not upon second thoughts do it without a way made out before I buy them to myself how to do [it] without charge to my main stock. Thence to the Coffeehouse, and sat long in good discourse with some gentlemen concerning the Roman Empire. So home and found Mr. Hollyard there, and he stayed and dined with us, we having a pheasant to dinner. He gone, I all the afternoon with my wife to cards, and, God forgive me! to see how the very discourse of plays, which I shall be at liberty to see after New Year’s Day next, do set my mind upon them, but I must be forced to stint myself very strictly before I begin, or else I fear I shall spoil all. In the evening came my aunt Wight’s kinswoman to see how my wife do, with a compliment from my aunt, which I take kindly as it is unusual for her to do it, but I do perceive my uncle is very kind to me of late. So to my office writing letters, and then to read and make an end of Rushworth, which I did, and do say that it is a book the most worth reading for a man of my condition or any man that hopes to come to any public condition in the world that I do know. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church alone and so home to dinner with my wife very pleasant and pleased with one another’s company, and in our general enjoyment one of another, better we think than most other couples do. So after dinner to the French church, but came too late, and so back to our own church, where I slept all the sermon the Scott preaching, and so home, and in the evening Sir J. Minnes and I met at Sir W. Penn’s about ordering some business of the Navy, and so I home to supper, discourse, prayers, and bed.
. Up and by coach to my Lord’s lodgings, but he was gone abroad, so I lost my pains, but, however, walking through Whitehall I heard the King was gone to play at Tennis, so I down to the new Tennis Court; and saw him and Sir Arthur Slingsby play against my Lord of Suffolk and my Lord Chesterfield. The King beat three, and lost two sets, they all, and he particularly playing well, I thought. Thence went and spoke with the Duke of Albemarle about his wound at Newhall, but I find him a heavy dull man, methinks, by his answers to me.2022 Thence to the King’s Head ordinary and there dined, and found Creed there, but we met and dined and parted without anything more than “How do you?” After dinner straight on foot to Mr. Hollyard’s, and there paid him £3 in full for his physic and work to my wife … but whether it is cured forever or no I cannot tell, but he says it will never come to anything, though it may be it may ooze now and then a little. So home and found my wife gone out with Will (whom she sent for as she do now a days upon occasion) to have a tooth drawn, she having it seems been in great pain all day, and at night came home with it drawn, and pretty well. This evening I had a stove brought me to the office to try, but it being an old one it smokes as much as if there was nothing but a hearth as I had before, but it may be great new ones do not, and therefore I must enquire further. So at night home to supper and to bed. The Duchess of York is fallen sicke of the measles.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning sitting, at noon to the ’Change, and there I found and brought home Mr. Pierse the surgeon to dinner. Where I found also Mr. Luellin and Mount, and merry at dinner, but their discourse so free … that I was weary of them. But after dinner Luellin took me up to my chamber to give me £50 for the service I did him, though not so great as he expected and I intended. But I told him that I would not sell my liberty to any man. If he would give me anything by another’s hand I would endeavour to deserve it, but I will never give him himself thanks for it, not acknowledging the receiving of any, which he told me was reasonable. I did also tell him that neither this nor anything should make me to do anything that should not be for the King’s service besides. So we parted and left them three at home with my wife going to cards, and I to my office and there stayed late. Sir W. Penn came like a cunning rogue to sit and talk with me about office business and freely about the Comptroller’s business of the office, to which I did give him free answers and let him make the best of them. But I know him to be a knave, and do say nothing that I fear to have said again. Anon came Sir W. Warren, and after talking of his business of the masts and helping me to understand some foul dealing in the business of Woods we fell to other talk, and particularly to speak of some means how to part this great familiarity between Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, and it is easy to do by any good friend of Sir J. Minnes to whom it will be a good service, and he thinks that Sir J. Denham will be a proper man for it, and so do I. So after other discourse we parted, and I home and to bed.
. Up betimes and by coach to my Lord Sandwich, who I met going out, and he did aske me how his cousin, my wife; did, the first time he hath done so since his being offended, and, in my conscience, he would be glad to be free with me again, but he knows not how to begin. So he went out, and I through the garden to Mr. Coventry, where I saw Mr. Ch. Pett bringing him a modell, and indeed it is a pretty one, for a New Year’s gift; but I think the work not better done than mine. With him by coach to London, with good and friendly discourse of business and against Sir W. Batten and his foul dealings. So leaving him at the Guinea House2023 I to the Coffee House, whither came Mr. Grant and Sir W. Petty, with whom I talked, and so did many, almost all the house there, about his new vessel, wherein he did give me such satisfaction in every point that I am almost confident she will prove an admirable invention. So home to dinner, and after being upon the ’Change awhile I dined with my wife, who took physic today, and so to my office, and there all the afternoon till late at night about office business, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and among other things Sir W. Warren came about some contract, and there did at the open table, Sir W. Batten not being there; openly defy him, and insisted how Sir W. Batten did endeavour to oppose him in everything that he offered. Sir W. Penn took him up for it, like a counterfeit rogue, though I know he was as much pleased to hear him talk so as any man there. But upon his speaking no more was said but to the business. At noon we broke up and I to the ’Change awhile, and so home again to dinner, my head aching mightily with being overcharged with business. We had to dinner, my wife and I, a fine turkey and a mince pie, and dined in state, poor wretch, she and I, and have thus kept our Christmas together all alone almost, having not once been out, but tomorrow my vowes are all out as to plays and wine, but I hope I shall not be long before I come to new ones, so much good, and God’s blessing, I find to have attended them. Thence to the office and did several businesses and answered several people, but my head aching and it being my great night of accounts, I went forth, took coach, and to my brother’s, but he was not within, and so I back again and sat an hour or two at the Coffee [house], hearing some simple discourse about Quakers being charmed by a string about their wrists, and so home, and after a little while at my office, I home and supped, and so had a good fire in my chamber and there sat till 4 o’clock in the morning making up my accounts and writing this last Journal of the year. And first I bless God I do, after a large expense, even this month, by reason of Christmas, and some payments to my father, and other things extraordinary, find that I am worth in money, besides all my household stuff, or anything of Brampton, above £800, whereof in my Lord Sandwich’s hand, £700, and the rest in my hand. So that there is not above £5 of all my estate in money at this minute out of my hands and my Lord’s. For which the good God be pleased to give me a thankful heart and a mind careful to preserve this and increase it. I do live at my lodgings in the Navy Office, my family being, besides my wife and I, Jane Gentleman, Besse, our excellent, good-natured cook-maid, and Susan, a little girl, having neither man nor boy, nor like to have again a good while, living now in most perfect content and quiet, and very frugally also; my health pretty good, but only that I have been much troubled with a costiveness which I am labouring to get away, and have hopes of doing it. At the office I am well, though envied to the devil by Sir William Batten, who hates me to death, but cannot hurt me. The rest either love me, or at least do not show otherwise, though I know Sir W. Penn to be a false knave touching me, though he seems fair. My father and mother well in the country; and at this time the young ladies of Hinchingbroke with them, their house having the smallpox in it. The Queen after a long and sore sickness is become well again; and the King minds his mistress a little too much, if it pleased God! but I hope all things will go well, and in the Navy particularly, wherein I shall do my duty whatever comes of it. The great talk is the designs of the King of France, whether against the Pope or King of Spain nobody knows; but a great and a most promising Prince he is, and all the Princes of Europe have their eye upon him. My wife’s brother come to great unhappiness by the ill-disposition, my wife says, of his wife, and her poverty, which she now professes, after all her husband’s pretence of a great fortune, but I see none of them, at least they come not to trouble me. At present I am concerned for my cousin Angier, of Cambridge, lately broke in his trade, and this day am sending his son John, a very rogue, to sea. My brother Tom I know not what to think of, for I cannot hear whether he minds his business or not; and my brother John at Cambridge, with as little hopes of doing good there, for when he was here he did give me great cause of dissatisfaction with his manner of life. Pall with my father, and God knows what she do there, or what will become of her, for I have not anything yet to spare her, and she grows now old, and must be disposed of one way or other. The Duchess of York, at this time, sicke of the measles, but is growing well again. The Turke very far entered into Germany, and all that part of the world at a losse what to expect from his proceedings. Myself, blessed be God! in a good way, and design and resolution of sticking to my business to get a little money with doing the best service I can to the King also; which God continue! So ends the old year.
January 1663–64
. Went to bed between 4 and 5 in the morning with my mind in good temper of satisfaction and slept till about 8, that many people came to speak with me. Among others one came with the best New Year’s gift that ever I had, namely from Mr. Deering, with a bill of exchange drawn upon himself for the payment of £50 to Mr. Luellin. It being for my use with a letter of compliment. I am not resolved what or how to do in this business, but I conclude it is an extraordinary good new year’s gift, though I do not take the whole, or if I do then give some of it to Luellin. By and by comes Captain Allen and his son Jowles2024 and his wife, who continues pretty still. They would have had me set my hand to a certificate for his loyalty, and I know not what his ability for any employment. But I did not think it fit, but did give them a pleasing denial, and after sitting with me an hour they went away. Several others came to me about business, and then being to dine at my uncle Wight’s I went to the Coffeehouse, sending my wife by Will, and there stayed talking an hour with Coll. Middleton, and others, and among other things about a very rich widow, young and handsome, of one Sir Nicholas Gold’s,2025 a merchant, lately fallen, and of great courtiers that already look after her: her husband not dead a week yet. She is reckoned worth £80,000. Thence to my uncle Wight’s, where Dr. of ⸻, among others, dined, and his wife, a seeming proud conceited woman, I know not what to make of her, but the Dr.’s discourse did please me very well about the disease of the stone, above all things extolling Turpentine, which he told me how it may be taken in pills with great ease. There was brought to table a hot pie made of a swan I sent them yesterday, given me by Mr. Howe, but we did not eat any of it. But my wife and I rose from table, pretending business, and went to the Duke’s house, the first play I have been at these six months, according to my last vowe, and here saw the so much cried-up play of Henry the Eighth; which, though I went with resolution to like it, is so simple a thing made up of a great many patches, that, besides the shows and processions in it, there is nothing in the world good or well done. Thence mightily dissatisfied back at night to my uncle Wight’s, and supped with them, but against my stomach out of the offence the sight of my aunt’s hands gives me, and ending supper with a mighty laugh, the greatest I have had these many months, at my uncle’s being out in his grace after meat, we rose and broke up, and my wife and I home and to bed, being sleepy since last night.
. Up and to the office, and there sitting all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, in my going met with Luellin and told him how I had received a letter and bill for £50 from Mr. Deering, and delivered it to him, which he told me he would receive for me. To which I consented, though professed not to desire it if he do not consider himself sufficiently able by the service I have done, and that it is rather my desire to have nothing till he be further sensible of my service. From the ’Change I brought him home and dined with us, and after dinner I took my wife out, for I do find that I am not able to conquer myself as to going to plays till I come to some new vowe concerning it, and that I am now come, that is to say, that I will not see above one in a month at any of the public theatres till the sum of 50s. be spent, and then none before New Year’s Day next, unless that I do become worth £1,000 sooner than then, and then am free to come to some other terms, and so leaving him in Lombard Street I took her to the King’s house, and there met Mr. Nicholson, my old colleague, and saw The Usurper,2026 which is no good play, though better than what I saw yesterday. However, we rose unsatisfied, and took coach and home, and I to the office late writing letters, and so to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and then rose and with a fire in my chamber stayed within all day, looking over and settling my accounts in good order, by examining all my books, and the kitchen books, and I find that though the proper profit of my last year was but £305, yet I did by other gain make it up £444, which in every part of it was unforeseen of me, and therefore it was a strange oversight for lack of examining my expenses that I should spend £690 this year, but for the time to come I have so distinctly settled all my accounts in writing and the particulars of all my several layings out, that I do hope I shall hereafter make a better judgment of my spendings than ever. I dined with my wife in her chamber, she in bed, and then down again and till 11 at night, and broke up and to bed with great content, but could not make an end of writing over my vows as I purposed, but I am agreed in everything how to order myself for the year to come, which I trust in God will be much for my good. So up to prayers and to bed. This evening Sir W. Penn came to invite me against next Wednesday, being Twelfth day, to his usual feast, his wedding day.
. Up betimes, and my wife being ready, and her maid Besse and the girl, I carried them by coach and set them all down in Covent Garden and there left them, and I to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, but he not being up, I to the Duke’s chamber, and there by and by to his closet, where since his lady was ill, a little red bed of velvet is brought for him to lie alone, which is a very pretty one. After doing business here, I to my Lord’s again, and there spoke with him, and he seems now almost friends again as he used to be. Here meeting Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, he told me among other Court news, how the Queen is very well again, and the King lay with her on Saturday night last; and that she speaks now very pretty English, and makes her sense out now and then with pretty phrases: as among others this is mightily cried up; that, meaning to say that she did not like such a horse so well as the rest, he being too prancing and full of tricks, she said he did make too much vanity. Thence to the Tennis Court, after I had spent a little time in Westminster Hall, thinking to have met with Mrs. Lane, but I could not and am glad of it, and there saw the King play at Tennis and others: but to see how the King’s play was extolled without any cause at all, was a loathsome sight, though sometimes, indeed, he did play very well and deserved to be commended; but such open flattery is beastly. Afterwards to St. James’s Park, being unwilling to go to spend money at the ordinary, and there spent an hour or two, it being a pleasant day, seeing people play at Pell Mell; where it pleased me mightily to hear a gallant, lately come from France, swear at one of his companions for suffering his man (a spruce blade) to be so saucy as to strike a ball while his master was playing on the Mall.2027 Thence took coach at Whitehall and took up my wife, who is mighty sad to think of her father, who is going into Germany against the Turkes; but what will become of her brother I know not. He is so idle, and out of all capacity, I think, to earn his bread. Home and at my office till 12 at night making my solemn vowes for the next year, which I trust in the Lord I shall keep, but I fear I have a little too severely bound myself in some things and in too many, for I fear I may forget some. But however, I know the worst, and shall by the blessing of God observe to perform or pay my forfeits punctually. So home and to bed with my mind at rest.
. Up and to our office, where we sat all the morning, where my head being willing to take in all business whatever, I am afraid I shall over clog myself with it. But however, it is my desire to do my duty and shall the willinger bear it. At noon home and to the ’Change, where I met with Luellin, who went off with me and parted to meet again at the Coffeehouse, but missed. So home and found him there, and Mr. Barrow came to speak with me, so they both dined with me alone, my wife not being ready, and after dinner I up in my chamber with Barrow to discourse about matters of the yard with him, and his design of leaving the place, which I am sorry for, and will prevent if I can. He being gone then Luellin did give me the £50 from Mr. Deering, which he do give me for my pains in his business and what I may hereafter take for him, though there is not the least word or deed I have yet been guilty of in his behalf but what I am sure has been to the King’s advantage and the profit of the service, nor ever will. And for this money I never did condition with him or expected a farthing at the time when I did do him the service, nor have given any receipt for it, it being brought me by Luellin, nor do purpose to give him any thanks for it, but will wherein I can faithfully endeavour to see him have the privilege of his Patent as the King’s merchant. I did give Luellin two pieces in gold for a pair of gloves for his kindness herein. Then he being gone, I to my office, where busy till late at night, that through my room being over confounded in business I could stay there no longer, but went home, and after a little supper to bed.
. Up and to my office, where very busy all the morning, being indeed over loaded with it through my own desire of doing all I can. At noon to the ’Change, but did little, and so home to dinner with my poor wife, and after dinner read a lecture to her in Geography, which she takes very prettily and with great pleasure to her and me to teach her, and so to the office again, where as busy as ever in my life, one thing after another, and answering people’s business, particularly drawing up things about Mr. Wood’s masts, which I expect to have a quarrel about with Sir W. Batten before it be ended, but I care not. At night home to my wife, to supper, discourse, prayers, and to bed. This morning I began a practice which I find by the ease I do it with that I shall continue, it saving me money and time; that is, to trim myself with a razor: which pleases me mightily.
. Up, putting on my best clothes and to the office, where all the morning we sat busy, among other things upon Mr. Wood’s performance of his contract for masts, wherein I was mightily concerned, but I think was found all along in the right, and shall have my desire in it to the King’s advantage. At noon, all of us to dinner to Sir W. Penn’s, where a very handsome dinner, Sir J. Lawson among others, and his lady and his daughter, a very pretty lady and of good deportment, with looking upon whom I was greatly pleased, the rest of the company of the women were all of our own house, of no satisfaction or pleasure at all. My wife was not there, being not well enough, nor had any great mind. But to see how Sir W. Penn imitates me in everything, even in his having his chimney piece in his dining room the same with that in my wife’s closet, and in everything else I perceive wherein he can. But to see again how he was out in one compliment: he lets alone drinking any of the ladies’ healths that were there, my Lady Batten and Lawson, till he had begun with my Lady Carteret, who was absent, and that was well enough, and then Mr. Coventry’s mistress, at which he was ashamed, and would not have had him have drunk it, at least before the ladies present, but his policy, as he thought, was such that he would do it. After dinner by coach with Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes by appointment to Auditor Beale’s in Salisbury Court, and there we did with great content look over some old ledgers to see in what manner they were kept, and indeed it was in an extraordinary good method, and such as (at least out of design to keep them employed) I do persuade Sir J. Minnes to go upon, which will at least do as much good it may be to keep them for want of something to do from envying those that do something. Thence calling to see whether Mrs. Turner was returned, which she is, and I spoke one word only to her, and away again by coach home and to my office, where late, and then home to supper and bed.
. Up and all the morning at my office and with Sir J. Minnes, directing him and Mr. Turner about keeping of their books according to yesterday’s work, wherein I shall make them work enough. At noon to the ’Change, and there long, and from thence by appointment took Luellin, Mount, and W. Symons, and Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, home to dinner with me and were merry. But, Lord! to hear how W. Symons do commend and look sadly and then talk bawdily and merrily, though his wife was dead but the other day, would make a dog laugh. After dinner I did go in further part of kindness to Luellin for his kindness about Deering’s £50 which he procured me the other day of him. We spent all the afternoon together and then they to cards with my wife, who this day put on her Indian blue gown which is very pretty, where I left them for an hour, and to my office, and then to them again, and by and by they went away at night, and so I again to my office to perfect a letter to Mr. Coventry about Department Treasurers, wherein I please myself and hope to give him content and do the King service therein. So having done, I home and to teach my wife a new lesson in the globes, and to supper, and to bed. We had great pleasure this afternoon; among other things, to talk of our old passages together in Cromwell’s time; and how W. Symons did make me laugh and wonder today when he told me how he had made shift to keep in, in good esteem and employment, through eight governments in one year (the year 1659, which were indeed, and he did name them all), and then failed unhappy in the ninth, viz. that of the King’s coming in. He made good to me the story which Luellin did tell me the other day, of his wife upon her deathbed; how she dreamt of her uncle Scobell, and did foretell, from some discourse she had with him, that she should die four days thence, and not sooner, and did all along say so, and did so. Upon the ’Change a great talk there was of one Mr. Tryan, an old man, a merchant in Lyme Street, robbed last night (his man and maid being gone out after he was abed), and gagged and robbed of £1,050 in money and about £4,000 in jewels, which he had in his house as security for money. It is believed by many circumstances that his man is guilty of confederacy, by their ready going to his secret till in his desk, wherein the key of his cash-chest lay.
. Up (my underlip being mightily swelled, I know not how but by overrubbing it, it itching) and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I home to dinner, and by discourse with my wife thought upon inviting my Lord Sandwich to a dinner shortly. It will cost me at least ten or twelve pounds; but, however, some arguments of prudence I have, which however I shall think again upon before I proceed to that expense. After dinner by coach I carried my wife and Jane to Westminster, leaving her at Mr. Hunt’s, and I to Westminster Hall, and there visited Mrs. Lane, and by appointment went out and met her at the Trumpet, Mrs. Hare’s, but the room being damp we went to the Bell tavern, and there I had her company, but could not do as I used to do (yet nothing but what was honest). … So I to talk about her having Hawley, she told me flatly no, she could not love him. I took occasion to enquire of Howlett’s daughter, with whom I have a mind to meet a little to see what mettle the young wench is made of, being very pretty, but she tells me she is already betrothed to Mrs. Michell’s son, and she in discourse tells me more, that Mrs. Michell herself had a daughter before marriage, which is now near thirty years old, a thing I could not have believed. Thence leading her to the Hall, I took coach and called my wife and her maid, and so to the New Exchange, where we bought several things of our pretty Mrs. Dorothy Stacy, a pretty woman, and has the modestest look that ever I saw in my life and manner of speech. Thence called at Tom’s and saw him pretty well again, but has not been currant. So homeward, and called at Ludgate, at Ashwell’s uncle’s, but she was not within, to have spoke to her to have come to dress my wife at the time my Lord dines here. So straight home, calling for Walsingham’s Manuals2028 at my bookseller’s to read but not to buy, recommended for a pretty book by Sir W. Warren, whose warrant however I do not much take till I do read it. So home to supper and to bed, my wife not being very well since she came home, being troubled with a fainting fit, which she never yet had before since she was my wife.
. Lay in bed with my wife till 10 or 11 o’clock, having been very sleepy all night. So up, and my brother Tom being come to see me, we to dinner, he telling me how Mrs. Turner found herself discontented with her late bad journey, and not well taken by them in the country, they not desiring her coming down, nor the burials of Mr. Edward Pepys’s corpse there.2029 After dinner I to the office, where all the afternoon, and at night my wife and I to my uncle Wight’s, and there eat some of their swan pie, which was good, and I invited them to my house to eat a roasted swan on Tuesday next, which after I was come home did make a quarrels between my wife and I, because she had appointed a wish tomorrow. But, however, we were friends again quickly. So to bed. All our discourse tonight was Mr. Tryan’s late being robbed; and that Colonel Turner (a mad, swearing, confident fellow, well known by all, and by me), one much indebted to this man for his very livelihood, was the man that either did or plotted it; and the money and things are found in his hand, and he and his wife now in Newgate for it; of which we are all glad, so very a known rogue he was.
. Waked this morning by 4 o’clock by my wife to call the maids to their wash, and what through my sleeping so long last night and vexation for the lazy sluts lying so long again and their great wash, neither my wife nor I could sleep one winke after that time till day, and then I rose and by coach (taking Captain Grove with me and three bottles of Tent, which I sent to Mrs. Lane by my promise on Saturday night last) to Whitehall, and there with the rest of our company to the Duke and did our business, and thence to the Tennis Court till noon, and there saw several great matches played, and so by invitation to St. James’s; where, at Mr. Coventry’s chamber, I dined with my Lord Barkeley, Sir G. Carteret, Sir Edward Turner,2030 Sir Ellis Layton,2031 and one Mr. Seymour, a fine gentleman; were admirable good discourse of all sorts, pleasant and serious. Thence after dinner to Whitehall, where the Duke being busy at the Guinea business, the Duke of Albemarle, Sir W. Rider, Povy, Sir J. Lawson and I to the Duke of Albemarle’s lodgings, and there did some business, and so to the Court again, and I to the Duke of York’s lodgings, where the Guinea company are choosing their assistants for the next year by ballotting. Thence by coach with Sir J. Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, he set me down at Cornhill, but, Lord! the simple discourse that all the way we had, he magnifying his great undertakings and cares that have been upon him for these last two years, and how he commanded the city to the content of all parties, when the loggerhead knows nothing almost that is sense. Thence to the Coffeehouse, whither comes Sir W. Petty and Captain Grant, and we fell in talk (besides a young gentleman, I suppose a merchant, his name Mr. Hill, that has travelled and I perceive is a master in most sorts of music and other things) of music; the universal character; art of memory; Granger’s counterfeiting of hands and other most excellent discourses to my great content, having not been in so good company a great while, and had I time I should covet the acquaintance of that Mr. Hill. This morning I stood by the King arguing with a pretty Quaker woman, that delivered to him a desire of hers in writing. The King showed her Sir J. Minnes, as a man the fittest for her quaking religion, saying that his beard was the stiffest thing about him, and again merrily said, looking upon the length of her paper, that if all she desired was of that length she might lose her desires; she modestly saying nothing till he begun seriously to discourse with her, arguing the truth of his spirit against hers; she replying still with these words, “O King!” and thou’d him all along. The general talk of the town still is of Colonel Turner, about the robbery; who, it is thought, will be hanged. I heard the Duke of York tell tonight, how letters are come that fifteen are condemned for the late plot by the judges at York; and, among others, Captain Oates, against whom it was proved that he drew his sword at his going out, and flinging away the scabbard, said that he would either return victor or be hanged. So home, where I found the house full of the washing and my wife mighty angry about Will’s being here today talking with her maids, which she overheard, idling of their time, and he telling what a good maid my old Jane was, and that she would never have her like again. At which I was angry, and after directing her to beat at least the little girl, I went to the office and there reproved Will, who told me that he went thither by my wife’s order, she having commanded him to come thither on Monday morning. Now God forgive me! how apt I am to be jealous of her as to this fellow, and that she must needs take this time, when she knows I must be gone out to the Duke, though methinks had she that mind she would never think it discretion to tell me this story of him, to let me know that he was there, much less to make me offended with him, to forbid him coming again. But this cursed humour I cannot cool in myself by all the reason I have, which God forgive me for, and convince me of the folly of it, and the disquiet it brings me. So home, where, God be thanked, when I came to speak to my wife my trouble of mind soon vanished, and to bed. The house foul with the washing and quite out of order against tomorrow’s dinner.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change awhile, and so home, getting things against dinner ready, and anon comes my uncle Wight and my aunt, with their cousins Mary and Robert, and by chance my uncle Thomas Pepys. We had a good dinner, the chief dish a swan roasted, and that excellent meate. At dinner and all day very merry. After dinner to cards, where till evening, then to the office a little, and to cards again with them, and lost half-a-crown. They being gone, my wife did tell me how my uncle did this day accost her alone, and spoke of his hoping she was with child, and kissing her earnestly told her he should be very glad of it, and from all circumstances methinks he do seem to have some intention of good to us, which I shall endeavour to continue more than ever I did yet. So to my office till late, and then home to bed, after being at prayers, which is the first time after my late vowe to say prayers in my family twice in every week.
. Up and to my office a little, and then abroad to many several places about business, among others to the geometrical instrument makers, and through Bedlam (calling by the way at an old bookseller’s and there fell into looking over Spanish books and pitched upon some, till I thought of my oathe when I was going to agree for them, and so with much ado got myself out of the shop glad at my heart and so away) to the African House to look upon their book of contracts for several commodities for my information in the prices we give in the Navy. So to the Coffee [house] where extraordinary good discourse of Dr. Whistler’s2032 upon my question concerning the keeping of masts, he arguing against keeping them dry, by showing the nature of corruption in bodies and the several ways thereof. So to the ’Change, and thence with Sir W. Rider to the Trinity House to dinner, and then home and to my office till night, and then with Mr. Bland to Sir T. Viner’s about pieces of eight for Sir J. Lawson, and so back to my office, and there late upon business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon all of us, viz., Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Batten at one end, and Mr. Coventry, Sir J. Minnes and I (in the middle at the other end, being taught how to sit there all three by my sitting so much the backwarder) at the other end, to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there dined well. Here I saw Mr. Scott, the bastard that married his youngest daughter.2033 Much pleasant talk at table, and then up and to the office, where we sat long upon our design of dividing the Controller’s work into some of the rest of our hands for the better doing of it, but he would not yield to it, though the simple man knows in his heart that he do not do one part of it. So he taking upon him to do it all we rose, I vexed at the heart to see the King’s service run after this manner, but it cannot be helped. Thence to the Old James to the reference about Mr. Bland’s business. Sir W. Rider being now added to us, and I believe we shall soon come to some determination in it. So home and to my office, did business, and then up to Sir W. Penn and did express my trouble about this day’s business, he not being there, and plainly told him what I thought of it, and though I know him a false fellow yet I adventured, as I have done often, to tell him clearly my opinion of Sir W. Batten and his design in this business, which is very bad. Hence home, and after a lecture to my wife in her globes, to prayers and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, and among other things Mr. Turner with me, and I did tell him my mind about the Controller his master and all the office, and my mind touching himself too, as he did carry himself either well or ill to me and my clerks, which I doubt not but it will operate well. Thence to the ’Change, and there met my uncle Wight, who was very kind to me, and would have had me home with him, and so kind that I begin to wonder and think something of it of good to me. Thence home to dinner, and after dinner with Mr. Hater by water, and walked thither and back again from Deptford, where I did do something checking the iron business, but my chief business was my discourse with Mr. Hater about what had passed last night and today about the office business, and my resolution to do him all the good I can therein. So home, and my wife tells me that my uncle Wight hath been with her, and played at cards with her, and is mighty inquisitive to know whether she is with child or no, which makes me wonder what his meaning is, and after all my thoughts, I cannot think, unless it be in order to the making his will, that he might know how to do by me, and I would to God my wife had told him that she was.
. Up, and having paid some money in the morning to my uncle Thomas on his yearly annuity, to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon I to the ’Change about some pieces of eight for Sir J. Lawson. There I hear that Colonel Turner is found guilty of felony at the Sessions in Mr. Tryan’s business, which will save his life. So home and met there J. Hasper come to see his kinswoman our Jane. I made much of him and made him dine with us, he talking after the old simple manner that he used to do. He being gone, I by water to Westminster Hall, and there did see Mrs. Lane. … So by coach home and to my office, where Browne of the Minories brought me an Instrument made of a Spyral line very pretty for all questions in Arithmetic almost, but it must be some use that must make me perfect in it. So home to supper and to bed, with my mind un peu troubled pour ce que fait today, but I hope it will be la dernier de toute ma vie.2034
. Up, and I and my wife to church, where Pembleton appeared, which, God forgive me, did vex me, but I made nothing of it. So home to dinner, and betimes my wife and I to the French church and there heard a good sermon, the first time my wife and I were there ever together. We sat by three sisters, all pretty women. It was pleasant to hear the reader give notice to them, that the children to be catechized next Sunday were them of Hounsditch and Blanche Chapiton.2035 Thence home, and there found Ashwell come to see my wife (we having called at her lodging the other day to speak with her about dressing my wife when my Lord Sandwich dines here), and is as merry as ever, and speaks as disconcerned for any difference between us on her going away as ever. She being gone, my wife and I to see Sir W. Penn and there supped with him much against my stomach, for the dishes were so deadly foule that I could not endure to look upon them. So after supper home to prayers and to bed.
. Up, being troubled to find my wife so ready to have me go out of doors. God forgive me for my jealousy! but I cannot forbear, though God knows I have no reason to do so, or to expect her being so true to me as I would have her. I abroad to Whitehall, where the Court all in mourning for the Duchess of Savoy. We did our business with the Duke, and so I to W. Howe at my Lord’s lodgings, not seeing my Lord, he being abroad, and there I advised with W. Howe about my having my Lord to dinner at my house, who likes it well, though it troubles me that I should come to need the advice of such a boy, but for the present it is necessary. Here I found Mr. Mallard, and had from him a common tune set by my desire to the Lyra Viol, which goes most admirably. Thence home by coach to the ’Change, after having been at the Coffeehouse, where I hear Turner2036 is found guilty of felony and burglary; and strange stories of his confidence at the barr, but yet great indiscretion in his arguing. All desirous of his being hanged. So home and found that Will had been with my wife. But, Lord! why should I think any evil of that; and yet I cannot forbear it. But upon enquiry, though I found no reason of doubtfulness, yet I could not bring my nature to any quiet or content in my wife all day and night, nor though I went with her to divert myself at my uncle Wight’s, and there we played at cards till 12 at night and went home in a great shower of rain, it having not rained a great while before. Here was one Mr. Benson, a Dutchman, played and supped with us, that pretends to sing well, and I expected great matters but found nothing to be pleased with at all. So home and to bed, yet troubled in my mind.
. Up, without any kindness to my wife, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I to the ’Change, and thence to Mr. Cutler’s with Sir W. Rider to dinner, and after dinner with him to the Old James upon our reference of Mr. Bland’s, and, having sat there upon the business half an hour, broke up, and I home and there found Madame Turner and her sister Dike come to see us, and stayed chatting till night, and so away, and I to my office till very late, and my eyes began to fail me, and be in pain which I never felt to nowadays, which I impute to sitting up late writing and reading by candlelight. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, and after long staying till his coming down (he not sending for me up, but it may be he did not know I was there), he came down, and I walked with him to the Tennis Court, and there left him, seeing the King play. At his lodgings this morning there came to him Mr. W. Montague’s fine lady, which occasioned my Lord’s calling me to her about some business for a friend of hers preferred to be a midshipman at sea. My Lord recommended the whole matter to me. She is a fine confident lady, I think, but not so pretty as I once thought her. My Lord did also seal a lease for the house he is now taking in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which stands him in £250 per annum rent. Thence by water to my brother’s, whom I find not well in bed, sicke, they think, of a consumption, and I fear he is not well, but do not complain, nor desire to take anything. From him I visited Mr. Honiwood, who is lame, and to thank him for his visit to me the other day, but we were both abroad. So to Mr. Commander’s in Warwicke Lane, to speak to him about drawing up my will, which he will meet me about in a day or two. So to the ’Change and walked home, thence with Sir Richard Ford, who told me that Turner is to be hanged tomorrow, and with what impudence he hath carried out his trial; but that last night, when he brought him news of his death, he began to be sober and shed some tears, and he hopes will die a penitent; he having already confessed all the thing, but says it was partly done for a joke, and partly to get an occasion of obliging the old man by his care in getting him his things again, he having some hopes of being the better by him in his estate at his death. Home to dinner, and after dinner my wife and I by water, which we have not done together many a day, that is not since last summer, but the weather is now very warm, and left her at Axe Yard, and I to Whitehall, and meeting Mr. Pierce walked with him an hour in the Matted Gallery; among other things he tells me that my Lady Castlemaine is not at all set by by the King, but that he do dote upon Mrs. Stewart only; and that to the leaving of all business in the world, and to the open slighting of the Queen; that he values not who sees him or stands by him while he dallies with her openly; and then privately in her chamber below, where the very sentries observe his going in and out; and that so commonly, that the Duke or any of the nobles, when they would ask where the King is, they will ordinarily say, “Is the King above, or below?” meaning with Mrs. Stewart: that the King do not openly disown my Lady Castlemaine, but that she comes to Court; but that my Lord FitzHarding and the Hambletons,2037 and sometimes my Lord Sandwich, they say, have their snaps at her. But he says my Lord Sandwich will lead her from her lodgings in the darkest and obscurest manner, and leave her at the entrance into the Queen’s lodgings, that he might be the least observed; that the Duke of Monmouth the King do still dote on beyond measure, insomuch that the King only, the Duke of York, and Prince Rupert, and the Duke of Monmouth, do now wear deep mourning, that is, long cloaks, for the Duchess of Savoy; so that he mourns as a Prince of the Blood, while the Duke of York do no more, and all the nobles of the land not so much; which gives great offence, and he says the Duke of York do consider. But that the Duke of York do give himself up to business, and is like to prove a noble Prince; and so indeed I do from my heart think he will. He says that it is believed, as well as hoped, that care is taken to lay up a hidden treasure of money by the King against a bad day, pray God it be so! but I should be more glad that the King himself would look after business, which it seems he do not in the least. By and by came by Mr. Coventry, and so we broke off; and he and I took a turn or two and so parted, and then my Lord Sandwich came upon me, to speak with whom my business of coming again tonight to this ende of the town chiefly was, in order to the seeing in what manner he received me, in order to my inviting him to dinner to my house, but as well in the morning as now, though I did wait upon him home and there offered occasion of talk with him, yet he treated me, though with respect, yet as a stranger, without any of the intimacy or friendship which he used to do, and which I fear he will never, through his consciousness of his faults, ever do again. Which I must confess do trouble me above anything in the world almost, though I neither do need at present nor fear to need to be so troubled, nay, and more, though I do not think that he would deny me any friendship now if I did need it, but only that he has not the face to be free with me, but do look upon me as a remembrancer of his former vanity, and an espy upon his present practices, for I perceive that Pickering today is great with him again, and that he has done a great courtesy for Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, to a good value, though both these and none but these did I mention by name to my Lord in the business which has caused all this difference between my Lord and me. However, I am resolved to forbear my laying out my money upon a dinner till I see him in a better posture, and by grave and humble, though high deportment, to make him think I do not want him, and that will make him the readier to admit me to his friendship again, I believe the soonest of anything but downright impudence, and thrusting myself, as others do, upon him, which yet I cannot do, not [nor] will not endeavour. So home, calling with my wife to see my brother again, who was up, and walks up and down the house pretty well, but I do think he is in a consumption. Home, troubled in mind for these passages with my Lord, but am resolved to better my case in my business to make my stand upon my own legs the better and to lay up as well as to get money, and among other ways I will have a good fleece out of Creed’s coat ere it be long, or I will have a fall. So to my office and did some business, and then home to supper and to bed, after I had by candlelight shaved myself and cut off all my beard clear, which will make my worke a great deal the less in shaving.
. Up, and after sending my wife to my aunt Wight’s to get a place to see Turner hanged, I to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon going to the ’Change; and seeing people flock in the City, I enquired, and found that Turner was not yet hanged. And so I went among them to Leadenhall Street, at the end of Lyme Street, near where the robbery was done; and to St. Mary Axe, where he lived. And there I got for a shilling to stand upon the wheel of a cart, in great pain, above an houre before the execution was done; he delaying the time by long discourses and prayers one after another, in hopes of a reprieve; but none came, and at last was flung off the ladder in his cloake. A comely-looked man he was, and kept his countenance to the end: I was sorry to see him. It was believed there were at least 12 or 14,000 people in the street. So I home all in a sweat, and dined by myself, and after dinner to the Old James, and there found Sir W. Rider and Mr. Cutler at dinner, and made a second dinner with them, and anon came Mr. Bland and Custos, and Clerke, and so we fell to the business of reference, and upon a letter from Mr. Povy to Sir W. Rider and I telling us that the King is concerned in it, we took occasion to fling off the business from off our shoulders and would have nothing to do with it, unless we had power from the King or Commissioners of Tangier, and I think it will be best for us to continue of that mind, and to have no hand, it being likely to go against the King. Thence to the Coffeehouse, and heard the full of Turner’s discourse on the cart,2038 which was chiefly to clear himself of all things laid to his charge but this fault, for which he now suffers, which he confesses. He deplored the condition of his family, but his chief design was to lengthen time, believing still a reprieve would come, though the sheriff advised him to expect no such thing, for the King was resolved to grant none. After that I had good discourse with a pretty young merchant with mighty content. So to my office and did a little business, and then to my aunt Wight’s to fetch my wife home, where Dr. Burnett did tell me how poorly the sheriffs did endeavour to get one jewel returned by Turner, after he was convicted, as a due to them, and not to give it to Mr. Tryan, the true owner, but ruled against them, to their great dishonour. Though they plead it might be another jewel for ought they know and not Tryan’s. After supper home, and my wife tells me mighty stories of my uncle’s fond and kind discourses to her today, which makes me confident that he has thoughts of kindness for us, he repeating his desire for her to be with child, for it cannot enter into my head that he should have any unworthy thoughts concerning her. After doing some business at my office, I home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up, and it being a brave morning, with a gally to Woolwich, and there both at the Ropeyarde and the other yarde did much business, and thence to Greenwich to see Mr. Pett and others value the carved work of the Henrietta (God knows in an ill manner for the King), and so to Deptford, and there viewed Sir W. Petty’s vessel; which hath an odd appearance, but not such as people do make of it, for I am of the opinion that he would never have discoursed so much of it, if it were not better than other vessels, and so I believe that he was abused the other day, as he is now, by tongues that I am sure speak before they know anything good or bad of her. I am sorry to find his ingenuity discouraged so. So home, reading all the way a good book, and so home to dinner, and after dinner a lesson on the globes to my wife, and so to my office till 10 or 11 o’clock at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Mr. Hawly came to see us and dined with us, and after we had dined came Mr. Mallard, and after he had eat something, I brought down my viol which he played on, the first maister that ever touched her yet, and she proves very well and will be, I think, an admirable instrument. He played some very fine things of his own, but I was afeard to enter too far in their commendation for fear he should offer to copy them for me out, and so I be forced to give or lend him something. So to the office in the evening, whither Mr. Commander came to me, and we discoursed about my will, which I am resolved to perfect the next week by the grace of God. He being gone, I to write letters and other business late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and then up, and being desirous to perform my vowes that I lately made, among others, to be performed this month, I did go to my office, and there fell on entering, out of a bye-book, part of my second journal-book, which hath lain these two years and more unentered. Upon this work till dinner, and after dinner to it again till night, and then home to supper, and after supper to read a lecture to my wife upon the globes, and so to prayers and to bed. This evening also I drew up a rough draught of my last will to my mind.
. Up and by coach to Whitehall to my Lord’s lodgings, and seeing that knowing that I was in the house, my Lord did not nevertheless send for me up, I did go to the Duke’s lodgings, and there stayed while he was making ready, in which time my Lord Sandwich came, and so all into his closet and did our common business, and so broke up, and I homeward by coach with Sir W. Batten, and stayed at Warwicke Lane and there called upon Mr. Commander and did give him my last will and testament to write over in form, and so to the ’Change, where I did several businesses. So home to dinner, and after I had dined Luellin came and we set him something to eat, and I left him there with my wife, and to the office upon a particular meeting of the East India Company, where I think I did the King good service against the Company in the business of their sending our ships home empty from the Indies contrary to their contract, and yet, God forgive me! I found that I could be willing to receive a bribe if it were offered me to conceal my arguments that I found against them, in consideration that none of my fellow officers, whose duty it is more than mine, had ever studied the case, or at this hour do understand it, and myself alone must do it. That being done Mr. Povy and Bland came to speak with me about their business of the reference, wherein I shall have some more trouble, but cannot help it, besides I hope to make some good use of Mr. Povy to my advantage. So home after business done at my office, to supper, and then to the globes with my wife, and so to bed. Troubled a little in mind that my Lord Sandwich should continue this strangeness to me that methinks he shows me now a days more than while the thing was fresh.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, after being at the Coffeehouse, where I sat by Tom Killigrew, who told us of a fire last night in my Lady Castlemaine’s lodging, where she bid £40 for one to adventure the fetching of a cabinet out, which at last was got to be done; and the fire at last quenched without doing much wrong. To ’Change and there did much business, so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon. And so at night my aunt Wight and Mrs. Buggin came to sit with my wife, and I in to them all the evening, my uncle coming afterward, and after him Mr. Benson the Dutchman, a frank, merry man. We were very merry and played at cards till late and so broke up and to bed in good hopes that this my friendship with my uncle and aunt will end well.
. Up and to the office, and at noon to the Coffeehouse, where I sat with Sir G. Ascue2039 and Sir William Petty, who in discourse is, methinks, one of the most rational men that ever I heard speak with a tongue, having all his notions the most distinct and clear, and, among other things (saying, that in all his life these three books were the most esteemed and generally cried up for wit in the world Religio Medici, Osborne’s Advice to a Son,2040 and Hudibras), did say that in these—in the two first principally—the wit lies, and confirming some pretty sayings, which are generally like paradoxes, by some argument smartly and pleasantly urged, which takes with people who do not trouble themselves to examine the force of an argument, which pleases them in the delivery, upon a subject which they like; whereas, as by many particular instances of mine, and others, out of Osborne, he did really find fault and weaken the strength of many of Osborne’s arguments, so as that in downright disputation they would not bear weight; at least, so far, but that they might be weakened, and better found in their rooms to confirm what is there said. He showed finely whence it happens that good writers are not admired by the present age; because there are but few in any age that do mind anything that is abstruse and curious; and so longer before anybody do put the true praise, and set it on foot in the world, the generality of mankind pleasing themselves in the easy delights of the world, as eating, drinking, dancing, hunting, fencing, which we see the meanest men do the best, those that profess it. A gentleman never dances so well as the dancing master, and an ordinary fiddler makes better music for a shilling than a gentleman will do after spending forty, and so in all the delights of the world almost. Thence to the ’Change, and after doing much business, home, taking Commissioner Pett with me, and all alone dined together. He told me many stories of the yard, but I do know him so well, and had his character given me this morning by Hempson, as well as my own too of him before, that I shall know how to value anything he says either of friendship or other business. He was mighty serious with me in discourse about the consequence of Sir W. Petty’s boat, as the most dangerous thing in the world, if it should be practised by endangering our losse of the command of the seas and our trade, while the Turkes and others shall get the use of them, which, without doubt, by bearing more sail will go faster than any other ships, and, not being of burden, our merchants cannot have the use of them and so will be at the mercy of their enemies. So that I perceive he is afeard that the honour of his trade will down, though (which is a truth) he pretends this consideration to hinder the growth of this invention. He being gone my wife and I took coach and to Covent Garden, to buy a mask at the French House, Madame Charett’s,2041 for my wife; in the way observing the street full of coaches at the new play, The Indian Queen;2042 which for show, they say, exceeds Henry the Eighth. Thence back to Mrs. Turner’s and sat a while with them talking of plays and I know not what, and so called to see Tom, but not at home, though they say he is in a deep consumption, and Mrs. Turner and Dike and they say he will not live two months to an end. So home and to the office, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning sitting, and at noon upon several things to the ’Change, and thence to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner of my own accord, and after dinner with Mr. Wayth down to Deptford doing several businesses, and by land back again, it being very cold, the boat meeting me after my staying a while for him at an alehouse by Redriffe stairs. So home, and took Will coming out of my doors, at which I was a little moved, and told my wife of her keeping him from the office (though God knows my base jealous head was the cause of it), which she seemed troubled at, and that it was only to discourse with her about finding a place for her brother. So I to my office late, Mr. Commander coming to read over my will in order to the engrossing it, and so he being gone I to other business, among others chiefly upon preparing matters against Creed for my profit, and so home to supper and bed, being mightily troubled with my left eye all this evening from some dirt that is got into it.
. Up, and after shaving myself (wherein twice now, one after another, I have cut myself much, but I think it is from the bluntness of the razor) there came Mr. Deane to me and stayed with me a while talking about masts, wherein he prepared me in several things against Mr. Wood, and also about Sir W. Petty’s boat, which he says must needs prove a folly, though I do not think so unless it be that the King will not have it encouraged. At noon, by appointment, comes Mr. Hartlibb and his wife, and a little before them Messrs. Langley and Bostocke (old acquaintances of mine at Westminster, clerks), and after showing them my house and drinking they set out by water, my wife and I with them down to Wapping on board the Crown, a merchantman, Captain Floyd, a civil person. Here was Vice-Admiral Goodson, whom the more I know the more I value for a serious man and staunch. Here was Whistler the flagmaker, which vexed me, but it mattered not. Here was other sorry company and the discourse poor, so that we had no pleasure there at all, but only to see and bless God to find the difference that is now between our condition and that heretofore, when we were not only much below Hartlibb in all respects, but even these two fellows above named, of whom I am now quite ashamed that ever my education should lead me to such low company, but it is God’s goodness only, for which let him be praised. After dinner I broke up and with my wife home, and thence to the Fleece2043 in Cornhill, by appointment, to meet my Lord Marlborough, a serious and worthy gentleman, who, after doing our business, about the company, he and they began to talk of the state of the Dutch in India, which is like to be in a little time without any controll; for we are lost there, and the Portuguese as bad. Thence to the Coffeehouse, where good discourse, specially of Lt.-Coll. Baron touching the manners of the Turkes’ Government, among whom he lived long. So to my uncle Wight’s, where late playing at cards, and so home.
. Up, and a sorry sermon of a young fellow I knew at Cambridge; but the day kept solemnly for the King’s murder, and all day within doors making up my Brampton papers, and in the evening Mr. Commander came and we made perfect and signed and sealed my last will and testament, which is so to my mind, and I hope to the liking of God Almighty, that I take great joy in myself that it is done, and by that means my mind in a good condition of quiet. At night to supper and to bed. This evening, being in a humour of making all things even and clear in the world, I tore some old papers; among others, a romance which (under the title of Love a Cheate) I begun ten years ago at Cambridge; and at this time reading it over tonight I liked it very well, and wondered a little at myself at my vein at that time when I wrote it, doubting that I cannot do so well now if I would try.
. Up, and in my chamber all day long (but a little at dinner) settling all my Brampton accounts to this day in very good order, I having obliged myself by oathe to do that and some other things within this month, and did also perfectly prepare a state of my estate and annexed it to my last will and testament, which now is perfect, and, lastly, I did make up my monthly accounts, and find that I have gained above £50 this month clear, and so am worth £858 clear, which is the greatest sum I ever yet was master of, and also read over my usual vowes, as I do every Lord’s day, but with greater seriousness than ordinary, and I do hope that every day I shall see more and more the pleasure of looking after my business and laying up of money, and blessed be God for what I have already been enabled by his grace to do. So to supper and to bed with my mind in mighty great ease and content, but my head very full of thoughts and business to dispatch this next month also, and among others to provide for answering to the Exchequer for my uncle’s being General-Receiver in the year 1647, which I am at present wholly unable to do, but I must find time to look over all his papers.
February 1663–64
. Up (my maids rising early this morning to washing), and being ready I found Mr. Strutt the purser below with 12 bottles of sacke, and tells me (which from Sir W. Batten I had heard before) how young Jack Davis has railed against Sir W. Batten for his endeavouring to turn him out of his place, at which for the fellow’s sake, because it will likely prove his ruin, I am sorry, though I do believe he is a very arch rogue. I took Strutt by coach with me to Whitehall, where I set him down, and I to my Lord’s, but found him gone out betimes to the Wardrobe, which I am glad to see that he so attends his business, though it troubles me that my counsel to my prejudice must be the cause of it. They tell me that he goes into the country next week, and that the young ladies come up this week before the old lady. Here I hear how two men last night, justling for the wall about the New Exchange, did kill one another, each thrusting the other through; one of them of the King’s Chapel, one Cave, and the other a retayner of my Lord General Middleton’s.2044 Thence to Whitehall; where, in the Duke’s chamber, the King came and stayed an hour or two laughing at Sir W. Petty, who was there about his boat; and at Gresham College in general; at which poor Petty was, I perceive, at some loss; but did argue discreetly, and bear the unreasonable follies of the King’s objections and other bystanders with great discretion; and offered to take oddes against the King’s best boates; but the King would not lay, but cried him down with words only. Gresham College he mightily laughed at, for spending time only in weighing of air, and doing nothing else since they sat.2045 Thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with diverse people, it being terme time. Among others I spoke with Mrs. Lane, of whom I doubted to hear something of the effects of our last meeting about a fortnight or three weeks ago, but to my content did not. Here I met with Mr. Pierce, who tells me of several passages at Court, among others how the King, coming the other day to his Theatre to see The Indian Queen (which he commends for a very fine thing), my Lady Castlemaine was in the next box before he came; and leaning over other ladies awhile to whisper to the King, she rose out of the box and went into the King’s, and set herself on the King’s right hand, between the King and the Duke of York; which, he swears, put the King himself, as well as everybody else, out of countenance; and believes that she did it only to show the world that she is not out of favour yet, as was believed. Thence with Alderman Maynell2046 by his coach to the ’Change, and there with several people busy, and so home to dinner, and took my wife out immediately to the King’s Theatre, it being a new month, and once a month I may go, and there saw The Indian Queen acted; which indeed is a most pleasant show, and beyond my expectation; the play good, but spoiled with the ryme, which breaks the sense. But above my expectation most, the eldest Marshall2047 did do her part most excellently well as I ever heard woman in my life; but her voice not so sweet as Ianthe’s;2048 but, however, we came home mightily contented. Here we met Mr. Pickering and his mistress, Mrs. Doll Wilde;2049 he tells me that the business runs high between the Chancellor and my Lord Bristoll against the Parliament; and that my Lord Lauderdale and Cooper2050 open high against the Chancellor; which I am sorry for. In my way home I ’light and to the Coffeehouse, where I heard Lt.-Coll. Baron tell very good stories of his travels over the high hills in Asia above the clouds, how clear the heaven is above them, how thick like a mist the way is through the cloud that wets like a sponge one’s clothes, the ground above the clouds all dry and parched, nothing in the world growing, it being only a dry earth, yet not so hot above as below the clouds. The stars at night most delicate bright and a fine clear blue sky, but cannot see the earth at any time through the clouds, but the clouds look like a world below you. Thence home and to supper, being hungry, and so to the office, did business, specially about Creed, for whom I am now pretty well fitted, and so home to bed. This day in Westminster Hall W. Bowyer told me that his father is dead lately, and died by being drowned in the river, coming over in the night; but he says he had not been drinking. He was taken with his stick in his hand and cloake over his shoulder, as ruddy as before he died. His horse was taken overnight in the water, hampered in the bridle, but they were so silly as not to look for his master till the next morning, that he was found drowned.
. Up and to the office, where, though Candlemas day, Mr. Coventry and Sir W. Penn and I all the morning, the others being at a survey at Deptford. At noon by coach to the ’Change with Mr. Coventry, thence to the Coffeehouse with Captain Cocke, who discoursed well of the good effects in some kind of a Dutch war and conquest (which I did not consider before, but the contrary) that is, that the trade of the world is too little for us two, therefore one must down: 2ndly, that though our merchants will not be the better husbands by all this, yet our wool will bear a better price by vaunting of our cloths, and by that our tenants will be better able to pay rents, and our lands will be more worth, and all our own manufactures, which now the Dutch outvie us in; that he thinks the Dutch are not in so good a condition as heretofore because of want of men always, and now from the warrs against the Turke more than ever. Then to the ’Change again, and thence off to the Sun Tavern with Sir W. Warren, and with him discoursed long, and had good advice, and hints from him, and among other things he did give me a pair of gloves for my wife wrapped up in paper, which I would not open, feeling it hard; but did tell him that my wife should thank him, and so went on in discourse. When I came home, Lord! in what pain I was to get my wife out of the room without bidding her go, that I might see what these gloves were; and, by and by, she being gone, it proves a pair of white gloves for her and forty pieces in good gold, which did so cheer my heart, that I could eat no victuals almost for dinner for joy to think how God do bless us every day more and more, and more yet I hope he will upon the increase of my duty and endeavours. I was at great losse what to do, whether tell my wife of it or no, which I could hardly forbear, but yet I did and will think of it first before I do, for fear of making her think me to be in a better condition, or in a better way of getting money, than yet I am. After dinner to the office, where doing infinite of business till past 10 at night to the comfort of my mind, and so home with joy to supper and to bed. This evening Mr. Hempson came and told me how Sir W, Batten his master will not hear of continuing him in his employment as Clerk of the Survey at Chatham, from whence of a sudden he has removed him without any new or extraordinary cause, and I believe (as he himself do in part write, and J. Norman do confess) for nothing but for that he was twice with me the other day and did not wait upon him. So much he fears me and all that have to do with me. Of this more in the Mem. Book of my office upon this day, there I shall find it.
. Up, and after a long discourse with my cousin Thomas Pepys, the executor, I with my wife by coach to Holborn, where I ’light, and she to her father’s, I to the Temple and several places, and so to the ’Change, where much business, and then home to dinner alone; and so to the Mitre Tavern by appointment (and there met by chance with W. Howe come to buy wine for my Lord against his going down to Hinchingbroke, and I private with him a great while discoursing of my Lord’s strangeness to me; but he answers that I have no reason to think any such thing, but that my Lord is only in general a more reserved man than he was before) to meet Sir W. Rider and Mr. Clerke, and there after much ado made an end, giving Mr. Custos £202 against Mr. Bland, which I endeavoured to bring down but could not, and think it is well enough ended for Mr. Bland for all that. Thence by coach to fetch my wife from her brother’s, and found her gone home. Called at Sir Robert Bernard’s about surrendering my estate in reversion to the use of my life, which will be done, and at Roger Pepys, who was gone to bed in pain of a boyle that he could not sit or stand. So home, where my wife is full of sad stories of her good-natured father and roguish brother, who is going for Holland and his wife, to be a soldier. And so after a little at the office to bed. This night late coming in my coach, coming up Ludgate Hill, I saw two gallants and their footmen taking a pretty wench, which I have much eyed, lately set up shop upon the hill, a seller of riband and gloves. They seek to drag her by some force, but the wench went, and I believe had her turn served, but, God forgive me! what thoughts and wishes I had of being in their place. In Covent Garden tonight, going to fetch home my wife, I stopped at the great Coffeehouse2051 there, where I never was before; where Dryden the poet (I knew at Cambridge), and all the wits of the town, and Harris the player, and Mr. Hoole of our College. And had I had time then, or could at other times, it will be good coming thither, for there, I perceive, is very witty and pleasant discourse. But I could not tarry, and as it was late, they were all ready to go away.
. Up and to the office, where after a while sitting, I left the board upon pretence of serious business, and by coach to Paul’s School, where I heard some good speeches of the boys that were to be elected this year. Thence by and by with Mr. Pullen and Barnes (a great Nonconformist) with several others of my old acquaintance to the Nag’s Head Tavern, and there did give them a bottle of sacke, and away again and I to the School, and up to hear the upper form examined; and there was kept by very many of the Mercers, Clutterbucke,2052 a Barker, Harrington, and others; and with great respect used by them all, and had a noble dinner. Here they tell me, that in Dr. Colett’s2053 will he says that he would have a Master found for the School that hath good skill in Latin, and (if it could be) one that had some knowledge of the Greeke; so little was Greeke known here at that time. Dr. Wilkins2054 and one Mr. Smallwood, Posers. After great pleasure there, and specially to Mr. Crumlum, so often to tell of my being a benefactor to the School, I to my bookseller’s and there spent an hour looking over Theatrum Urbium and Flandria illustrata, with excellent cuts, with great content. So homeward, and called at my little milliner’s, where I chatted with her, her husband out of the way, and a mad merry slut she is. So home to the office, and by and by comes my wife home from the burial of Captain Grove’s wife at Wapping (she telling me a story how her maid Jane going into the boat did fall down and show her arse in the boat), and alone comes my uncle Wight and Mr. Maes with the state of their case, which he told me very discreetly, and I believe is a very hard one, and so after drinking a bottle of ale or two they gone, and I a little more to the office, and so home to prayers and to bed. This evening I made an end of my letter to Creed about his pieces of eight, and sent it away to him. I pray God give good end to it to bring me some money, and that duly as from him.
. Up, and down by water, a brave morning, to Woolwich, and there spent an houre or two to good purpose, and so walked to Greenwich and thence to Deptford, where I found (with Sir W. Batten upon a survey) Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Penn, and my Lady Batten come down and going to dinner. I dined with them, and so after dinner by water home, all the way going and coming reading Faber Fortunæ,2055 which I can never read too often. At home a while with my wife, and so to my office, where till 8 o’clock, and then home to look over some Brampton papers, and my uncle’s accounts as General-Receiver of the County for 1647 of our monthly assessment, which, contrary to my expectation, I found in such good order and so thoroughly that I did not expect, nor could have thought, and that being done, having seen discharges for every farthing of money he received, I went to bed late with great quiet.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and so at noon to the ’Change, where I met Mr. Coventry, the first time I ever saw him there, and after a little talk with him and other merchants, I up and down about several businesses, and so home, whither came one Father Fogourdy, an Irish priest, of my wife’s and her mother’s acquaintance in France, a sober, discreet person, but one that I would not have converse with my wife for fear of meddling with her religion, but I like the man well. Thence with my wife abroad, and left her at Tom’s, while I abroad about several businesses and so back to her, myself being vexed to find at my first coming Tom abroad, and all his books, papers, and bills loose upon the open table in the parlour, and he abroad, which I ranted at him for when he came in. Then by coach home, calling at my cousin Scott’s, who (she) lies dying, they say, upon a miscarriage. My wife could not be admitted to see her, nor anybody. At home to the office late writing letters, and then home to supper and to bed. Father Fogourdy confirms to me the news that for certain there is peace between the Pope and King of France.
. Up and to church, and thence home, my wife being ill … kept her bed all day, and I up and dined by her bedside, and then all the afternoon till late at night writing some letters of business to my father stating of matters to him in general of great import, and other letters to ease my mind in the week days that I have not time to think of, and so up to my wife, and with great mirth read Sir W. Davenant’s two speeches in dispraise of London and Paris, by way of reproach one to another,2056 and so to prayers and to bed.
. Up, and by coach called upon Mr. Phillips, and after a little talk with him away to my Lord Sandwich’s, but he being gone abroad, I stayed a little and talked with Mr. Howe, and so to Westminster in term time, and there met Mr. Pierce, who told me largely how the King still do dote upon his women, even beyond all shame; and that the good Queen will of herself stop before she goes sometimes into her dressing-room, till she knows whether the King be there, for fear he should be, as she hath sometimes taken him, with Mrs. Stewart; and that some of the best parts of the Queen’s jointure are, contrary to faith, and against the opinion of my Lord Treasurer and his Council, bestowed or rented, I know not how, to my Lord FitzHarding and Mrs. Stewart, and others of that crew that the King do dote infinitely upon the Duke of Monmouth, apparently as one that he intends to have succeed him. God knows what will be the end of it! After he was gone I went and talked with Mrs. Lane about persuading her to Hawly, and think she will come on, which I wish were done, and so to Mr. Howlett and his wife, and talked about the same, and they are mightily for it, and I bid them promote it, for I think it will be for both their goods and my content. But I was much pleased to look upon their pretty daughter, which is grown a pretty maid, and will make a fine modest woman. Thence to the ’Change by coach, and after some business done, home to dinner, and thence to Guildhall, thinking to have heard some pleading, but there were no Courts, and so to Cade’s, the stationer, and there did look upon some pictures which he promised to give me the buying of, but I found he would have played the Jacke with me, but at last he did proffer me what I expected, and I have laid aside £10 or £12 worth, and will think of it, but I am loth to lay out so much money upon them. So home a little vexed in my mind to think how today I was forced to compliment W. Howe and admit myself to an equality with Mr. Moore, which is come to challenge in his discourse with me, but I will admit it no more, but let me stand or fall, I will show myself as strange to them as my Lord do himself to me. After at the office till 9 o’clock, I home in fear of some pain by taking cold, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where sat all the morning. At noon by coach with Mr. Coventry to the ’Change, where busy with several people. Great talk of the Dutch proclaiming themselves in India, Lords of the Southern Seas, and deny traffick there to all ships but their own, upon pain of confiscation; which makes our merchants mad. Great doubt of two ships of ours, the Greyhound and another, very rich, coming from the Streights, for fear of the Turkes. Matters are made up between the Pope and the King of France; so that now all the doubt is, what the French will do with their armies. Thence home, and there found Captain Grove in mourning for his wife, and Hawly, and they dined with me. After dinner, and Grove gone, Hawly and I talked of his mistress, Mrs. Lane, and I seriously advising him and inquiring his condition, and do believe that I shall bring them together. By and by comes Mr. Moore, with whom much good discourse of my Lord, and among other things told me that my Lord is mightily altered, that is, grown very high and stately, and do not admit of any to come into his chamber to him, as heretofore, and that I must not think much of his strangeness to me, for it was the same he do to everybody, and that he would not have me be solicitous in the matter, but keep off and give him now and then a visit and no more, for he says he himself do not go to him now a days but when he sends for him, nor then do not stay for him if he be not there at the hour appointed, for, says he, I do find that I can stand upon my own legs and I will not by any over submission make myself cheap to anybody and contemptible, which was the doctrine of the world that I lacked most, and shall follow it. I discoursed with him about my money that my Lord hath, and the £1,000 that I stand bound with him in, to my cousin Thomas Pepys, in both which I will get myself at liberty as soon as I can; for I do not like his being angry and in debt both together to me; and besides, I do not perceive he looks after paying his debts, but runs farther and farther in. He being gone, my wife and I did walk an houre or two above in our chamber, seriously talking of businesses. I told her my Lord owed me £700, and showed her the bond, and how I intended to carry myself to my Lord. She and I did cast about how to get Captain Grove for my sister, in which we are mighty earnest at present, and I think it would be a good match, and will endeavour it. So to my office a while, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to my Lord Sandwich, to his new house, a fine house, but deadly dear, in Lincoln’s Inne Fields, where I found and spoke a little to him. He is high and strange still, but did ask me how my wife did, and at parting remembered him to his cousin, which I thought was pretty well, being willing to flatter myself that in time he will be well again. Thence home straight and busy all the forenoon, and at noon with Mr. Bland to Mr. Povy’s, but he being at dinner and full of company we retreated and went into Fleet Street to a friend of his, and after a long stay, he telling me the long and most perplexed story of Coronell and Bushell’s business of sugars, wherein Park and Green and Mr. Bland and 40 more have been so concerned about the King of Portugal’s duties, wherein every party has laboured to cheat another, a most pleasant and profitable story to hear, and in the close made me understand Mr. Maes’ business better than I did before. By and by dinner came, and after dinner and good discourse that and such as I was willing for improvement sake to hear, I went away too to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where I took occasion to demand of Creed whether he had received my letter, and he told me yes, and that he would answer it, which makes me much wonder what he means to do with me, but I will be even with him before I have done, let him make as light of it as he will. Thence to the Temple, where my cousin Roger Pepys did show me a letter my Father wrote to him last Terme to show me, proposing such things about Sturtlow and a portion for Pall, and I know not what, that vexes me to see him plotting how to put me to trouble and charge, and not thinking to pay our debts and legacies, but I will write him a letter will persuade him to be wiser. So home, and finding my wife abroad (after her coming home from being with my aunt Wight today to buy Lent provisions) gone with Will to my brother’s, I followed them by coach, but found them not, for they were newly gone home from thence, which troubled me. I to Sir Robert Bernard’s chamber, and there did surrender my reversion in Brampton lands to the use of my will, which I was glad to have done, my will being now good in all parts. Thence homewards, calling a little at the Coffeehouse, where a little merry discourse, and so home, where I found my wife, who says she went to her father’s to be satisfied about her brother, who I found at my house with her. He is going this next tide with his wife into Holland to seek his fortune. He had taken his leave of us this morning. I did give my wife 10s. to give him, and a coat that I had by me, a close-bodied light-coloured cloth coat, with a gold edging in each seam, that was the lace of my wife’s best pettycoat that she had when I married her. I stayed not there, but to my office, where Stanes the glazier was with me till 10 at night making up his contract, and, poor man, I made him almost mad through a mistake of mine, but did afterwards reconcile all, for I would not have the man that labours to serve the King so cheap above others suffer too much. He gone I did a little business more, and so home to supper and to bed, being now pretty well again, the weather being warm. My pain do leave me without coming to any great excess, but my cold that I had got I suppose was not very great, it being only the leaving of my wastecoat unbuttoned one morning.
. Up, after much pleasant discourse with my wife, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and did much business, and some much to my content by prevailing against Sir W. Batten for the King’s profit. At noon home to dinner, my wife and I hand to fist to a very fine pig. This noon Mr. Falconer came and visited my wife, and brought her a present, a silver state-cup and cover, value about £3 or £4, for the courtesy I did him the other day. He did not stay dinner with me. I am almost sorry for this present, because I would have reserved him for a place to go in summer a-visiting at Woolwich with my wife.
. Up, and ready, did find below Mr. Creed’s boy with a letter from his master for me. So I fell to reading it, and it is by way of stating the case between S. Pepys and J. Creed most excellently writ, both showing his stoutness and yet willingness to peace, reproaching me yet flattering me again, and in a word in as good a manner as I think the world could have wrote, and indeed put me to a greater stand than ever I thought I could have been in this matter. All the morning thinking how to behave myself in the business, and at noon to the Coffeehouse; thence by his appointment met him upon the ’Change, and with him back to the Coffeehouse, where with great seriousness and strangeness on both sides he said his part and I mine, he sometimes owning my favour and assistance, yet endeavouring to lessen it, as that the success of his business was not wholly or very much to be imputed to that assistance: I to allege the contrary, and plainly to tell him that from the beginning I never had it in my mind to do him all that kindness for nothing, but he gaining 5 or £600, I did expect a share of it, at least a real and not a complimentary acknowledgment of it. In fine I said nothing all the while that I need fear he can do me more hurt with them than before I spoke them. The most I told him was after we were come to a peace, which he asked me whether he should answer the Board’s letter or no. I told him he might forbear it a while and no more. Then he asked how the letter could be signed by them without their much enquiry. I told him it was as I worded it and nothing at all else of any moment, whether my words be ever hereafter spoken of again or no. So that I have the same neither better nor worse force over him that I had before, if he should not do his part. And the peace between us was this: Says he after all, well, says he, I know you will expect, since there must be some condescension, that it do become me to begin it, and therefore, says he, I do propose (just like the interstice between the death of the old and the coming in of the present king, all the time is swallowed up as if it had never been) so our breach of friendship may be as if it had never been, that I should lay aside all misapprehensions of him or his first letter, and that he would reckon himself obliged to show the same ingenuous acknowledgment of my love and service to him as at the beginning he ought to have done, before by my first letter I did (as he well observed) put him out of a capacity of doing it, without seeming to do it servilely, and so it rests, and I shall expect how he will deal with me. After that I began to be free, and both of us to discourse of other things, and he went home with me and dined with me and my wife and very pleasant, having a good dinner and the opening of my lampry (cutting a notch on one side), which proved very good. After dinner he and I to Deptford, walking all the way, where we met Sir W. Petty and I took him back, and I got him to go with me to his vessel and discourse it over to me, which he did very well, and then walked back together to the waterside at Redriffe, with good discourse all the way. So Creed and I by boat to my house, and thence to coach with my wife and called at Alderman Backewell’s and there changed Mr. Falconer’s state-cup, that he did give us the other day, for a fair tankard. The cup weighed with the fashion £5 16s., and another little cup that Joyce Norton did give us 17s., both £6 13s.; for which we had the tankard, which came to £6 10s., at 5s. 7d. per oz., and 3s. in money, and with great content away thence to my brother’s, Creed going away there, and my brother bringing me the old silk standard that I lodged there long ago, and then back again home, and thence, hearing that my uncle Wight had been at my house, I went to him to the Miter, and there with him and Maes, Norbury, and Mr. Rawlinson till late eating some pot venison (where the Crown earthen pot pleased me mightily), and then homewards and met Mr. Barrow, so back with him to the Miter and sat talking about his business of his discontent in the yard, wherein sometimes he was very foolish and pettish, till 12 at night, and so went away, and I home and up to my wife abed, with my mind ill at ease whether I should think that I had by this made myself a bad end by missing the certainty of £100 which I proposed to myself so much, or a good one by easing myself of the uncertain good effect but the certain trouble and reflection which must have fallen on me if we had proceeded to a public dispute, ended besides embarking myself against my Lord, who (which I had forgot) had given him his hand for the value of the pieces of eight at his rates which were all false, which by the way I shall take heed to the giving of my Lord notice of it hereafter whenever he goes out again.
. Up, and after I had told my wife in the morning in bed the passages yesterday with Creed my head and heart was mightily lighter than they were before, and so up and to the office, and thence, after sitting, at 11 o’clock with Mr. Coventry to the African House, and there with Sir W. Ryder by agreement we looked over part of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, these being by Creed and Vernaty. Anon down to dinner to a table which Mr. Coventry keeps here, out of his £300 per annum as one of the Assistants to the Royal Company, a very pretty dinner, and good company, and excellent discourse, and so up again to our work for an hour till the Company came to having a meeting of their own, and so we broke up and Creed and I took coach and to Reeves, the perspective glass maker, and there did indeed see very excellent microscopes, which did discover a louse or mite or sand most perfectly and largely. Being sated with that we went away (yet with a good will were it not for my obligation to have bought one) and walked to the New Exchange, and after a turn or two and talked I took coach and home, and so to my office, after I had been with my wife and saw her day’s work in ripping the silke standard, which we brought home last night, and it will serve to line a bed, or for twenty uses, to our great content. And there wrote fair my angry letter to my father upon that that he wrote to my cousin Roger Pepys, which I hope will make him the more careful to trust to my advice for the time to come without so many needless complaints and jealousies, which are troublesome to me because without reason.
. Up and to church alone, where a lazy sermon of Mr. Mills, upon a text to introduce catechizing in his parish, which I perceive he intends to begin. So home and very pleasant with my wife at dinner. All the afternoon at my office alone doing business, and then in the evening after a walk with my wife in the garden, she and I to my uncle Wight’s to supper, where Mr. Norbury, but my uncle out of tune, and after supper he seemed displeased mightily at my aunt’s desiring [to] put off a copper kettle, which it seems with great study he had provided to boil meat in, and now she is put in the head that it is not wholesome, which vexed him, but we were very merry about it, and by and by home, and after prayers to bed.
. Up, and carrying my wife to my Lord’s lodgings left her, and I to Whitehall, to the Duke; where he first put on a periwig today; but methought his hair cut short in order thereto did look very prettily of itself, before he put on his periwig.2057 Thence to his closet and there did our business, and thence Mr. Coventry and I down to his chamber and spent a little time, and so parted, and I took my wife homeward, I stopping at the Coffeehouse, and thence a while to the ’Change, where great news of the arrivall of two rich ships, the Greyhound and another, which they were mightily afeard of, and great insurance given, and so home to dinner, and after an houre with my wife at her globes, I to the office, where very busy till 11 at night, and so home to supper and to bed. This afternoon Sir Thomas Chamberlin2058 came to the office to me, and showed me several letters from the East Indies, showing the height that the Dutch are come to there, showing scorn to all the English, even in our only Factory there of Surat, beating several men, and hanging the English Standard St. George under the Dutch flag in scorn;2059 saying, that whatever their masters do or say at home, they will do what they list, and will be masters of all the world there; and have so proclaimed themselves Sovereign of all the South Seas; which certainly our King cannot endure, if the Parliament will give him money. But I doubt and yet do hope they will not yet, till we are more ready for it.
. Up and to the office, where very busy all the morning, and most with Mr. Wood, I vexing him about his masts. At noon to the ’Change a little and thence brought Mr. Barrow to dinner with me, where I had a haunch of venison roasted, given me yesterday, and so had a pretty dinner, full of discourse of his business, wherein the poor man is mightily troubled, and I pity him in it, but hope to get him some ease. He being gone I to the office, where very busy till night, that my uncle Wight and Mr. Maes came to me, and after discourse about Maes’ business to supper very merry, but my mind upon my business, and so they being gone I to my Viol a little, which I have not done some months, I think, before, and then a little to my office, at 11 at night, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and with my wife, setting her down by her father’s in Long Acre, in so ill looked a place, among all the whore houses, that I was troubled at it, to see her go thither. Thence I to Whitehall and there walked up and down talking with Mr. Pierce, who tells me of the King’s giving of my Lord FitzHarding two leases which belong indeed to the Queen, worth £20,000 to him; and how people do talk of it, and other things of that nature which I am sorry to hear. He and I walked round the Park with great pleasure, and back again, and finding no time to speak with my Lord of Albemarle, I walked to the ’Change and there met my wife at our pretty Doll’s, and so took her home, and Creed also whom I met there, and sent her hose, while Creed and I stayed on the ’Change, and by and by home and dined, where I found an excellent mastiffe, his name Towser, sent me by a chirurgeon. After dinner I took my wife again by coach (leaving Creed by the way going to Gresham College, of which he is now become one of the virtuosos)2060 and to Whitehall, where I delivered a paper about Tangier to my Lord Duke of Albemarle in the council chamber, and so to Mrs. Hunt’s to call my wife, and so by coach straight home, and at my office till 3 o’clock in the morning, having spent much time this evening in discourse with Mr. Cutler, who tells me how the Dutch deal with us abroad and do not value us anywhere, and how he and Sir W. Rider have found reason to lay aside Captain Cocke in their company, he having played some indiscreet and unfair tricks with them, and has lost himself everywhere by his imposing upon all the world with the conceit he has of his own wit, and so has, he tells me, Sir R. Ford also, both of whom are very witty men. He being gone Sir W. Rider came and stayed with me till about 12 at night, having found ourselves work till that time, about understanding the measuring of Mr. Wood’s masts, which though I did so well before as to be thought to deal very hardly against Wood, yet I am ashamed I understand it no better, and do hope yet, whatever be thought of me, to save the King some more money, and out of an impatience to breake up with my head full of confused confounded notions, but nothing brought to a clear comprehension, I was resolved to sit up and did till now it is ready to strike 4 o’clock, all alone, cold, and my candle not enough left to light me to my own house, and so, with my business however brought to some good understanding, and set it down pretty clear, I went home to bed with my mind at good quiet, and the girl sitting up for me (the rest all abed). I eat and drank a little, and to bed, weary, sleepy, cold, and my head aching.
. Called up to the office and much against my will I rose, my head aching mightily, and to the office, where I did argue to good purpose for the King, which I have been fitting myself for the last night against Mr. Wood about his masts, but brought it to no issue. Very full of business till noon, and then with Mr. Coventry to the African House, and there fell to my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, and by and by to dinner, where excellent discourse, Sir G. Carteret and others of the African Company with us, and then up to the accounts again, which were by and by done, and then I straight home, my head in great pain, and drowsy, so after doing a little business at the office I wrote to my father about sending him the mastiff was given me yesterday. I home and by daylight to bed about 6 o’clock and fell to sleep, wakened about 12 when my wife came to bed, and then to sleep again and so till morning, and then:
. Up in good order in my head again and shaved myself, and then to the office, whither Mr. Cutler came, and walked and talked with me a great while; and then to the ’Change together; and it being early, did tell me several excellent examples of men raised upon the ’Change by their great diligence and saving; as also his own fortune, and how credit grew upon him; that when he was not really worth £1,100, he had credit for £100,000 of Sir W. Rider how he rose; and others. By and by joined with us Sir John Bankes;2061 who told us several passages of the East India Company; and how in his very case, when there was due to him and Alderman Mico £64,000 from the Dutch for injury done to them in the East Indies, Oliver presently after the peace, they delaying to pay them the money, sent them word, that if they did not pay them by such a day, he would grant letters of mark to those merchants against them; by which they were so fearful of him, they did presently pay the money every farthing. By and by, the ’Change filling, I did many businesses, and about 2 o’clock went off with my uncle Wight to his house, thence by appointment we took our wives (they by coach with Mr. Mawes) and we on foot to Mr. Jaggard, a salter, in Thames Street, for whom I did a courtesy among the poor victuallers, his wife, whom long ago I had seen, being daughter to old Day, my uncle Wight’s master, is a very plain woman, but pretty children they have. They live methought at first in but a plain way, but afterward I saw their dinner, all fish, brought in very neatly, but the company being but bad I had no great pleasure in it. After dinner I to the office, where we should have met upon business extraordinary, but business not coming we broke up, and I thither again and took my wife; and taking a coach, went to visit my Ladies Jemimah and Paulina Montagu, and Mrs. Elizabeth Pickering, whom we find at their father’s new house2062 in Lincolne’s Inn Fields; but the house all in dirt. They received us well enough; but I did not endeavour to carry myself over familiarly with them; and so after a little stay, there coming in presently after us my Lady Aberguenny2063 and other ladies, we back again by coach, and visited, my wife did, my she cousin Scott, who is very ill still, and thence to Jaggard’s again, where a very good supper and great store of plate; and above all after supper Mrs. Jaggard did at my entreaty play on the Viol, but so well as I did not think any woman in England could and but few Maisters, I must confess it did mightily surprise me, though I knew heretofore that she could play, but little thought so well. After her I set Maes to singing, but he did it so like a coxcomb that I was sick of him. About 11 at night I carried my aunt home by coach, and then home myself, having set my wife down at home by the way. My aunt tells me they are counted very rich people, worth at least 10 or £12,000, and their country house all the yeare long and all things liveable, which mightily surprises me to think for how poore a man I took him when I did him the courtesy at our office. So after prayers to bed, pleased at nothing all the day but Mrs. Jaggard playing on the Viol, and that was enough to make me bear with all the rest that did not content me.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change with Mr. Coventry and thence home to dinner, after dinner by a gally down to Woolwich, where with Mr. Falconer, and then at the other yard doing some business to my content, and so walked to Greenwich, it being a very fine evening and brought right home with me by water, and so to my office, where late doing business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. (Lord’s day). Up, and having many businesses at the office today I spent all the morning there drawing up a letter to Mr. Coventry about preserving of masts, being collections of my own, and at noon home to dinner, whither my brother Tom comes, and after dinner I took him up and read my letter lately of discontent to my father, and he is seemingly pleased at it, and cries out of my sister’s ill nature and lazy life there. He being gone I to my office again, and there made an end of my morning’s work, and then, after reading my vows of course, home and back again with Mr. Maes and walked with him talking of his business in the garden, and he being gone my wife and I walked a turn or two also, and then my uncle Wight fetching of us, she and I to his house to supper, and by the way calling on Sir G. Carteret to desire his consent to my bringing Maes to him, which he agreed to. So I to my uncle’s, but stayed a great while vexed both of us for Maes not coming in, and soon he came, and I with him from supper to Sir G. Carteret, and there did largely discourse of the business, and I believe he may expect as much favour as he can do him, though I fear that will not be much. So back, and after sitting there a good while, we home, and going my wife told me how my uncle when he had her alone did tell her that he did love her as well as ever he did, though he did not find it convenient to show it publicly for reasons on both sides, seeming to mean as well to prevent my jealousy as his wife’s, but I am apt to think that he do mean us well, and to give us something if he should die without children. So home to prayers and to bed. My wife called up the people to washing by four o’clock in the morning; and our little girl Susan is a most admirable Slut and pleases us mightily, doing more service than both the others and deserves wages better.
. Up and shaved myself, and then my wife and I by coach out, and I set her down by her father’s, being vexed in my mind and angry with her for the ill-favoured place, among or near the whore houses, that she is forced to come to him. So left her there, and I to Sir Th. Warwick’s but did not speak with him. Thence to take a turn in St. James’s Park, and meeting with Anth. Joyce walked with him a turn in the Pell Mell and so parted, he St. James’s ward and I out to Whitehall Ward, and so to a picture-sellers by the Half Moone in the street over against the Exchange, and there looked over the maps of several cities and did buy two books of cities stitched together cost me 9s. 6d., and when I came home thought of my vowe, and paid 5s. into my poor box for it, hoping in God that I shall forfeit no more in that kind. Thence, meeting Mr. Moore, and to the Exchange and there found my wife at pretty Doll’s, and thence by coach set her at my uncle Wight’s, to go with my aunt to market once more against Lent, and I to the Coffeehouse, and thence to the ’Change, my chief business being to enquire about the manner of other countries keeping of their masts wet or dry, and got good advice about it, and so home, and alone ate a bad, cold dinner, my people being at their washing all day, and so to the office and all the afternoon upon my letter to Mr. Coventry about keeping of masts, and ended it very well at night and wrote it fair over. This evening came Mr. Alsopp the King’s brewer, with whom I spent an houre talking and bewailing the posture of things at present; the King led away by half-a-dozen men, that none of his serious servants and friends can come at him. These are Lauderdale, Buckingham, Hamilton, FitzHarding (to whom he hath, it seems, given £2,000 per annum in the best part of the King’s estate); and that that the old Duke of Buckingham could never get of the King. Progers is another, and Sir H. Bennett. He loves not the Queen at all, but is rather sullen to her; and she, by all reports, incapable of children. He is so fond of the Duke of Monmouth, that everybody admires it; and he says the Duke hath said, that he would be the death of any man that says the King was not married to his mother: though Alsopp says, it is well known that she was a common whore before the King lay with her. But it seems, he says, that the King is mighty kind to these his bastard children; and at this day will go at midnight to my Lady Castlemaine’s nurses, and take the child and dance it in his arms: that he is not likely to have his tables up again in his house2064 for the crew that are about him will not have him come to common view again, but keep him obscurely among themselves. He hath this night, it seems, ordered that the Hall (which there is a ball to be in tonight before the King) be guarded, as the Queen-Mother’s is, by his Horse Guards; whereas heretofore they were by the Lord Chamberlain or Steward, and their people. But it is feared they will reduce all to the soldiery, and all other places taken away; and what is worst of all, that he will alter the present militia, and bring all to a flying army. That my Lord Lauderdale, being Middleton’s enemy,2065 and one that scorns the Chancellor even to open affronts before the King, hath got the whole power of Scotland into his hand; whereas the other day he was in a fair way to have had his whole estate, and honour, and life, voted away from him. That the King hath done himself all imaginable wrong in the business of my Lord Antrim,2066 in Ireland; who, though he was the head of rebels, yet he by his letter owns to have acted by his father’s and mother’s, and his commissions; but it seems the truth is, he hath obliged himself, upon the clearing of his estate, to settle it upon a daughter of the Queen-Mother’s (by my Lord Germin,2067 I suppose) in marriage, be it to whom the Queen pleases; which is a sad story. It seems a daughter of the Duke of Lenox’s was, by force, going to be married the other day at Somerset House, to Harry Germin; but she got away and run to the King, and he says he will protect her. She is, it seems, very near akin to the King. Such mad doings there are every day among them! The rape upon a woman at Turnstile the other day, her husband being bound in his shirt, they both being in bed together, it being night, by two Frenchmen, who did not only lie with her but abused her with a linke, is hushed up for £300, being the Queen Mother’s servants. There was a French book in verse, the other day, translated and presented to the Duke of Monmouth in such a high stile, that the Duke of York, he tells me, was mightily offended at it.2068 The Duke of Monmouth’s mother’s brother hath a place at Court; and being a Welchman2069 (I think he told me) will talk very broad of the King’s being married to his sister. The King did the other day, at the Council, commit my Lord Digby’s2070 chaplain, and steward, and another servant, who went upon the process begun there against their lord, to swear that they saw him at church, and receive the Sacrament as a Protestant, (which, the judges said, was sufficient to prove him such in the eye of the law);2071 the King, I say, did commit them all to the Gatehouse, notwithstanding their pleading their dependence upon him, and the faith they owed him as their lord, whose bread they eat. And that the King should say, that he would soon see whether he was King, or Digby. That the Queen-Mother hath outrun herself in her expenses, and is now come to pay very ill, or run in debt; the money being spent that she received for leases. He believes there is not any money laid up in bank, as I told him some did hope; but he says, from the best informers he can assure me there is no such thing, nor anybody that should look after such a thing; and that there is not now above £80,000 of the Dunkirke money left in stock. That Oliver in the year when he spent £1,400,000 in the Navy, did spend in the whole expense of the kingdom £2,600,000. That all the Court are mad for a Dutch war; but both he and I did concur, that it was a thing rather to be dreaded than hoped for; unless by the French King’s falling upon Flanders, they and the Dutch should be divided. That our Embassador2072 had, it is true, an audience; but in the most dishonourable way that could be; for the Princes of the Blood (though invited by our Embassador, which was the greatest absurdity that ever Embassador committed these 400 years) were not there; and so were not said to give place to our King’s Embassador. And that our King did openly say, the other day in the Privy Chamber, that he would not be hectored out of his right and preeminencies by the King of France, as great as he was. That the Pope is glad to yield to a peace with the French (as the news-book says), upon the basest terms that ever was. That the talk which these people about our King, that I named before, have, is to tell him how neither privilege of Parliament nor City is anything; but his will is all, and ought to be so: and their discourse, it seems, when they are alone, is so base and sordid, that it makes the ears of the very gentlemen of the backstairs (I think he called them) to tingle to hear it spoke in the King’s hearing; and that must be very bad indeed. That my Lord Digby did send to Lisbon a couple of priests, to search out what they could against the Chancellor concerning the match, as to the point of his knowing beforehand that the Queen was not capable of bearing children; and that something was given her to make her so. But as private as they were, when they came thither they were clapped up prisoners. That my Lord Digby endeavours what he can to bring the business into the House of Commons, hoping there to master the Chancellor, there being many enemies of his there; but I hope the contrary. That whereas the late King did mortgage Clarendon2073 to somebody for £20,000, and this to have given it to the Duke of Albemarle, and he sold it to my Lord Chancellor, whose title of Earldome is fetched from thence; the King hath this day sent his order to the Privy Seale for the payment of this £20,000 to my Lord Chancellor, to clear the mortgage.2074 Ireland in a very distracted condition about the hard usage which the Protestants meet with, and the too good which the Catholics. And from altogether, God knows my heart, I expect nothing but ruin can follow, unless things are better ordered in a little time. He being gone my wife came and told me how kind my uncle Wight had been to her today, and that though she says that all his kindness comes from respect to her she discovers nothing but great civility from him, yet but what she says he otherwise will tell me, but today he told her plainly that had she a child it should be his heir, and that should I or she want he would be a good friend to us, and did give my wife instructions to consent to all his wife says at any time, she being a pettish woman, which argues a design I think he has of keeping us in with his wife in order to our good sure, and he declaring her jealous of him that so he dares not come to see my wife as otherwise he would do and will endeavour to do. It looks strange putting all together, but yet I am in hopes he means well. My aunt also is mighty open to my wife and tells her mighty plain how her husband did intend to double her portion to her at his death as a jointure. That he will give presently £100 to her niece Mary and a good legacy at his death, and it seems did as much to the other sister, which vexed [me] to think that he should bestow so much upon his wife’s friends daily as he do, but it cannot be helped for the time past, and I will endeavour to remedy it for the time to come. After all this discourse with my wife at my office alone, she home to see how the wash goes on and I to make an end of my work, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, it being Shrove Tuesday, and at the office sat all the morning, at noon to the ’Change and there met with Sir W. Rider, and of a sudden knowing what I had at home, brought him and Mr. Cutler and Mr. Cooke, clerk to Mr. Secretary Morrice, a sober and pleasant man, and one that I knew heretofore, when he was my Lord’s secretary at Dunkirke. I made much of them and had a pretty dinner for a sudden. We talked very pleasantly, and they many good discourses of their travels abroad. After dinner they gone, I to my office, where doing many businesses very late, but to my good content to see how I grow in estimation every day more and more, and have things given more oftener than I used to have formerly, as to have a case of very pretty knives with agate shafts by Mrs. Russell. So home and to bed. This day, by the blessing of God, I have lived thirty-one years in the world; and, by the grace of God, I find myself not only in good health in everything, and particularly as to the stone, but only pain upon taking cold, and also in a fair way of coming to a better esteem and estate in the world, than ever I expected. But I pray God give me a heart to fear a fall, and to prepare for it!
. Up and by water, it being a very fine morning, to Whitehall, and there to speak with Sir Ph. Warwicke, but he was gone out to chapel, so I spent much of the morning walking in the Park, and going to the Queen’s chapel, where I stayed and saw their masse, till a man came and bid me go out or kneel down: so I did go out. And thence to Somerset House; and there into the chapel, where Monsieur d’Espagne2075 used to preach. But now it is made very fine, and was ten times more crouded than the Queen’s chapel at St. James’s; which I wonder at. Thence down to the garden of Somerset House, and up and down the new building, which in every respect will be mighty magnificent and costly. I stayed a great while talking with a man in the garden that was sawing of a piece of marble, and did give him 6d. to drink. He told me much of the nature and labour of the worke, how he could not saw above 4 inches of the stone in a day, and of a greater not above one or two, and after it is sawed, then it is rubbed with coarse and then with finer and finer sand till they come to putty, and so polish it as smooth as glass. Their saws have no teeth, but it is the sand only which the saw rubs up and down that do the thing. Thence by water to the Coffeehouse, and there sat with Alderman Barker talking of hemp and the trade, and thence to the ’Change a little, and so home and dined with my wife, and then to the office till the evening, and then walked a while merrily with my wife in the garden, and so she gone, I to work again till late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat, and thence with Mr. Coventry by coach to the glasshouse and there dined, and both before and after did my Lord Peterborough’s accounts. Thence home to the office, and there did business till called by Creed, and with him by coach (setting my wife at my brother’s) to my Lord’s, and saw the young ladies, and talked a little with them, and thence to Whitehall, a while talking but doing no business, but resolved of going to meet my Lord tomorrow, having got a horse of Mr. Coventry today. So home, taking up my wife, and after doing something at my office home, God forgive me, disturbed in my mind out of my jealousy of my wife tomorrow when I am out of town, which is a hell to my mind, and yet without all reason. God forgive me for it, and mend me. So home, and getting my things ready for me, weary to bed.
. Up, and after dressing myself handsomely for riding, I out, and by water to Westminster, to Mr. Creed’s chamber, and after drinking some chocolate, and playing on the viol, Mr. Mallard being there, upon Creed’s new viol, which proves, methinks, much worse than mine, and, looking upon his new contrivance of a desk and shelves for books, we set out from an inne hard by, whither Mr. Coventry’s horse was carried, and round about the bush through bad ways to Highgate. Good discourse in the way had between us, and it being all day a most admirable pleasant day, we, upon consultation, had stopped at the Cocke, a mile on this side Barnett, being unwilling to put ourselves to the charge or doubtful acceptance of any provision against my Lord’s coming by, and there got something and dined, setting a boy to look towards Barnett Hill, against their coming; and after two or three false alarms, they come, and we met the coach very gracefully, and I had a kind receipt from both Lord and Lady as I could wish, and some kind discourse, and then rode by the coach a good way, and so fell to discoursing with several of the people, there being a dozen attending the coach, and another for the maids and parson. Among others talking with W. Howe, he told me how my Lord in his hearing the other day did largely tell my Lord Peterborough and Povy (who went with them down to Hinchinbrooke) how and when he discarded Creed, and took me to him, and that since the Duke of York has several times thanked him for me, which did not a little please me, and anon I desiring Mr. Howe to tell me upon [what] occasion this discourse happened, he desired me to say nothing of it now, for he would not have my Lord to take notice of our being together, but he would tell me another time, which put me into some trouble to think what he meant by it. But when we came to my Lord’s house, I went in; and whether it was my Lord’s neglect, or general indifference, I know not, but he made me no kind of compliment there; and, methinks, the young ladies look somewhat highly upon me. So I went away without bidding adieu to anybody, being desirous not to be thought too servile. But I do hope and believe that my Lord do yet value me as high as ever, though he dare not admit me to the freedom he once did, and that my Lady is still the same woman. So rode home and there found my uncle Wight. ’Tis an odd thing as my wife tells me his caressing her and coming on purpose to give her visits, but I do not trouble myself for him at all, but hope the best and very good effects of it. He being gone I eat something and my wife. I told all this day’s passages, and she to give me very good and rational advice how to behave myself to my Lord and his family, by slighting everybody but my Lord and Lady, and not to seem to have the least society or fellowship with them, which I am resolved to do, knowing that it is my high carriage that must do me good there, and to appear in good clothes and garbe. To the office, and being weary, early home to bed.
. Up, but weary, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. Before I went to the office there came Bagwell’s wife to me to speak for her husband. I liked the woman very well and stroked her under the chin, but could not find in my heart to offer anything uncivil to her, she being, I believe, a very modest woman. At noon with Mr. Coventry to the African house, and to my Lord Peterborough’s business again, and then to dinner, where, before dinner, we had the best oysters I have seen this year, and I think as good in all respects as ever I eat in my life. I eat a great many. Great, good company at dinner, among others Sir Martin Noell, who told us the dispute between him, as farmer of the Additional Duty, and the East India Company, whether calicos be linen or no; which he says it is, having been ever esteemed so: they say it is made of cotton woole, and grows upon trees, not like flax or hemp. But it was carried against the Company, though they stand out against the verdict. Thence home and to the office, where late, and so home to supper and to bed, and had a very pleasing and condescending answer from my poor father today in answer to my angry discontentful letter to him the other day, which pleases me mightily.
. Up and walked to Paul’s; and by chance it was an extraordinary day for the Readers of the Inns of Court and all the Students to come to church, it being an old ceremony not used these twenty-five years, upon the first Sunday in Lent. Abundance there was of Students, more than there was room to seat but upon forms, and the Church mighty full. One Hawkins preached, an Oxford man. A good sermon upon these words: “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable.” Both before and after sermon I was most impatiently troubled at the Choir, the worst that ever I heard. But what was extraordinary, the Bishop of London,2076 who sat there in a pew, made a purpose for him by the pulpit, do give the last blessing to the congregation; which was, he being a comely old man, a very decent thing, methought. The Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir J. Robinson, would needs have me by coach home with him, and sending word home to my house I did go and dine with him, his ordinary table being very good, and his lady a very high-carriaged but comely big woman;2077 I was mightily pleased with her. His officers of his regiment dined with him. No discourse at table to any purpose, only after dinner my Lady would needs see a boy which was represented to her to be an innocent country boy brought up to town a day or two ago, and left here to the wide world, and he losing his way fell into the Tower, which my Lady believes, and takes pity on him, and will keep him; but though a little boy and but young, yet he tells his tale so readily and answers all questions so wittily, that for certain he is an arch rogue, and bred in this town; but my Lady will not believe it, but ordered victuals to be given him, and I think will keep him as a footboy for their eldest son. After dinner to chapel in the Tower with the Lieutenant, with the keyes carried before us, and the Warders and Gentleman-porter going before us. And I sat with the Lieutenant in his pew, in great state, but slept all the sermon. None, it seems, of the prisoners in the Tower that are there now, though they may, will come to prayers there. Church being done, I back to Sir John’s house and there left him and home, and by and by to Sir W. Penn, and stayed a while talking with him about Sir J. Minnes his folly in his office, of which I am sicke and weary to speak of it, and how the King is abused in it, though Penn, I know, offers the discourse only like a rogue to get it out of me, but I am very free to tell my mind to him, in that case being not unwilling he should tell him again if he will or anybody else. Thence home, and walked in the garden by brave moonshine with my wife above two hours, till past 8 o’clock, then to supper, and after prayers to bed.
. Up and by coach with Sir W. Penn to Charing Cross, and there I ’light, and to Sir Phillip Warwick to visit him and discourse with him about navy business, which I did at large and he most largely with me, not only about the navy but about the general Revenue of England, above two hours, I think, many staying all the while without, but he seemed to take pains to let me either understand the affairs of the Revenue or else to be a witness of his pains and care in stating it. He showed me indeed many excellent collections of the State of the Revenue in former Kings and the late times, and the present. He showed me how the very Assessments between 1643 and 1659, which were taxes (besides Excise, Customes, Sequestrations, Decimations, King and Queen’s and Church Lands, or anything else but just the Assessments), come to above fifteen millions. He showed me a discourse of his concerning the Revenues of this and foreign States. How that of Spain was great, but divided with his kingdoms, and so came to little. How that of France did, and do much exceed ours before for quantity; and that it is at the will of the Prince to tax what he will upon his people; which is not here. That the Hollanders have the best manner of tax, which is only upon the expense of provisions, by an excise; and do conclude that no other tax is proper for England but a pound-rate, or excise upon the expense of provisions. He showed me every particular sort of payment away of money, since the King’s coming in, to this day; and told me, from one to one, how little he hath received of profit from most of them; and I believe him truly. That the £1,200,000 which the Parliament with so much ado did first vote to give the King, and since hath been reexamined by several committees of the present Parliament, is yet above £300,000 short of making up really to the King the £1,200,000, as by particulars he showed me.2078 And in my Lord Treasurer’s excellent letter to the King upon this subject, he tells the King how it was the spending more than the revenue that did give the first occasion of his father’s ruin, and did since to the rebels; who, he says, just like Henry the Eighth, had great and sudden increase of wealth, but yet, by overspending, both died poor; and further tells the King how much of this £1,200,000 depends upon the life of the Prince, and so must be renewed by Parliament again to his successor; which is seldom done without parting with some of the prerogatives of the Crown; or if denied and he persists to take it of the people, it gives occasion to a civil war, which may, as it did in the late business of tonnage and poundage, prove fatal to the Crown. He showed me how many ways the Lord Treasurer did take before he moved the King to farme the Customes in the manner he do, and the reasons that moved him to do it. He showed the a very excellent argument to prove, that our importing less than we export, do not impoverish the kingdom, according to the received opinion: which, though it be a paradox, and that I do not remember the argument, yet methought there was a great deal in what he said. And upon the whole I find him a most exact and methodicall man, and of great industry: and very glad that he thought fit to show me all this; though I cannot easily guess the reason why he should do it to me, unless from the plainness that he sees I use to him in telling him how much the King may suffer for our want of understanding the case of our Treasury. Thence to Whitehall (where my Lord Sandwich was, and gave me a good countenance, I thought), and before the Duke did our usual business, and so I about several businesses in the house, and then out to the Mewes with Sir W. Penn. But in my way first did meet with W. Howe, who did of himself advise me to appear more free with my Lord and to come to him, for my own strangeness he tells me he thinks do make my Lord the worse. At the Mewes Sir W. Penn and Mr. Baxter did show me several good horses, but Penn, which Sir W. Penn did give the Duke of York, was given away by the Duke the other day to a Frenchman, which Baxter is cruelly vexed at, saying that he was the best horse that he expects a great while to have to do with. Thence I to the ’Change, and thence to a Coffeehouse with Sir W. Warren, and did talk much about his and Wood’s business, and thence homewards, and in my way did stay to look upon a fire in an Inneyard in Lombard Street. But, Lord! how the mercers and merchants who had warehouses there did carry away their cloths and silks. But at last it was quenched, and I home to dinner, and after dinner carried my wife and set her and her two maids in Fleet Street to buy things, and I to Whitehall to little purpose, and so to Westminster Hall, and there talked with Mrs. Lane and Howlett, but the match with Hawly I perceive will not take, and so I am resolved wholly to avoid occasion of further ill with her. Thence by water to Salsbury Court, and found my wife, by agreement, at Mrs. Turner’s, and after a little stay and chat set her and young Armiger down in Cheapside, and so my wife and I home. Got home before our maids, who by and by came with a great cry and fright that they had like to have been killed by a coach; but, Lord! to see how Jane did tell the story like a foole and a dissembling fanatic, like her grandmother, but so like a changeling, would make a man laugh to death almost, and yet be vexed to hear her. By and by to the office to make up my monthly accounts, which I make up tonight, and to my great content find myself worth eight hundred and ninety and odd pounds, the greatest sum I ever yet knew, and so with a heart at great case to bed.
March 1663–64
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, and after much business and meeting my uncle Wight, who told me how Mr. Maes had like to have been trapanned yesterday, but was forced to run for it; so with Creed and Mr. Hunt home to dinner, and after a good and pleasant dinner, Mr. Hunt parted, and I took Mr. Creed and my wife and down to Deptford, it being most pleasant weather, and there till night discoursing with the officers there about several things, and so walked home by moonshine, it being mighty pleasant, and so home, and I to my office, where late about getting myself a thorough understanding in the business of masts, and so home to bed, my left eye being mightily troubled with rheum.
. Up, my eye mightily out of order with the rheum that is fallen down into it, however, I by coach endeavoured to have waited on my Lord Sandwich, but meeting him in Chancery Lane going towards the City I stopped and so fairly walked home again, calling at St. Paul’s Churchyarde, and there looked upon a pretty burlesque poem, called Scarronides, or Virgile Travesty;2079 extraordinary good. At home to the office till dinner, and after dinner my wife cut my hair short, which is grown pretty long again, and then to the office, and there till 9 at night doing business. This afternoon we had a good present of tongues and bacon from Mr. Shales, of Portsmouth. So at night home to supper, and, being troubled with my eye, to bed. This morning Mr. Burgby, one of the writing clerks belonging to the Council, was with me about business, a knowing man, he complains how most of the Lords of the Council do look after themselves and their own ends, and none the public, unless Sir Edward Nicholas. Sir G. Carteret is diligent, but all for his own ends and profit. My Lord Privy Scale, a destroyer of everybody’s business, and do no good at all to the public. The Archbishop of Canterbury2080 speaks very little, nor do much, being now come to the highest pitch that he can expect. He tells me, he believes that things will go very high against the Chancellor by Digby, and that bad things will be proved. Talks much of his neglecting the King; and making the King to trot every day to him, when he is well enough to go to visit his cousin Chief-Justice Hide, but not to the Council or King. He commends my Lord of Ormond mightily in Ireland; but cries out cruelly of Sir G. Lane for his corruption;2081 and that he hath done my Lord great dishonour by selling of places here, which are now all taken away, and the poor wretches ready to starve. That nobody almost understands or judges of business better than the King, if he would not be guilty of his father’s fault to be doubtful of himself, and easily be removed from his own opinion. That my Lord Lauderdale is never from the King’s care nor council, and that he is a most cunning fellow. Upon the whole, that he finds things go very bad everywhere; and even in the Council nobody minds the public.
. Up pretty early and so to the office, where we sat all the morning making a very great contract with Sir W. Warren for provisions for the yeare coming, and so home to dinner, and there was W. Howe come to dine with me, and before dinner he and I walked in the garden, and we did discourse together, he assuring me of what he told me the other day of my Lord’s speaking so highly in my commendation to my Lord Peterborough and Povy, which speaks my Lord having yet a good opinion of me, and also how well my Lord and Lady both are pleased with their children’s being at my father’s, and when the bigger ladies were there a little while ago, at which I am very glad. After dinner he went away, I having discoursed with him about his own proceedings in his studies, and I observe him to be very considerate and to mind his book in order to preferring himself by my Lord’s favour to something, and I hope to the outing of Creed in his Secretaryship. For he tells me that he is confident my Lord do not love him nor will trust him in any secret matter, he is so cunning and crafty in all he do. So my wife and I out of doors thinking to have gone to have seen a play, but when we came to take coach, they tell us there are none this week, being the first of Lent. But, Lord! to see how impatient I found myself within to see a play, I being at liberty once a month to see one, and I think it is the best method I could have taken. But to my office, did very much business with several people till night, and so home, being unwilling to stay late because of my eye which is not yet well of the rheum that is fallen down into it, but to supper and to bed.
. Up, my eye being pretty well, and then by coach to my Lord Sandwich, with whom I spoke, walking a good while with him in his garden, which and the house is very fine, talking of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, wherein he is concerned both for the foolery as also inconvenience which may happen upon my Lord Peterborough’s ill-stating of his matters, so as to have his gaine discovered unnecessarily. We did talk long and freely that I hope the worst is past and all will be well. There were several people by trying a new-fashion gun2082 brought my Lord this morning, to shoot off often, one after another, without trouble or danger, very pretty. Thence to the Temple, and there taking White’s boat down to Woolwich, taking Mr. Shish at Deptford in my way, with whom I had some good discourse of the Navy business. At Woolwich discoursed with him and Mr. Pett about iron worke and other businesses, and then walked home, and at Greenwich did observe the foundation laying of a very great house for the King, which will cost a great deal of money.2083 So home to dinner, and my uncle Wight coming in he along with my wife and I by coach, and setting him down by the way going to Mr. Maes we two to my Lord Sandwich’s to visit my Lady, with whom I left my wife discoursing, and I to Whitehall, and there being met by the Duke of York, he called me to him and discoursed a pretty while with me about the new ship’s dispatch building at Woolwich, and talking of the charge did say that he finds always the best the most cheape, instancing in French guns, which in France you may buy for 4 pistoles, as good to look to as others of 16, but not the service. I never had so much discourse with the Duke before, and till now did ever fear to meet him. He found me and Mr. Prin together talking of the Chest money,2084 which we are to blame not to look after. Thence to my Lord’s, and took up my wife, whom my Lady hath received with her old good nature and kindness, and so homewards, and she home, I ’lighting by the way, and upon the ’Change met my uncle Wight and told him my discourse this afternoon with Sir G. Carteret in Maes’ business, but much to his discomfort, and after a dish of coffee home, and at my office a good while with Sir W. Warren talking with great pleasure of many businesses, and then home to supper, my wife and I had a good fowle to supper, and then I to the office again and so home, my mind in great ease to think of our coming to so good a respect with my Lord again, and my Lady, and that my Lady do so much cry up my father’s usage of her children, and the goodness of the air there, found in the young ladies’ faces at their return thence, as she says, as also my being put into the commission of the Fishery,2085 for which I must give my Lord thanks, and so home to bed, having a great cold in my head and throat tonight from my late cutting my hair so close to my head, but I hope it will be soon gone again.
. Up and to the office, where, though I had a great cold, I was forced to speak much upon a public meeting of the East India Company, at our office; where our own company was full, and there was also my Lord George Barkeley,2086 in behalfe of the company of merchants (I suppose he is on that company), who, hearing my name, took notice of me, and condoled my cousin Edward Pepys’s death, not knowing whose son I was, nor did demand it of me. We broke up without coming to any conclusion, for want of my Lord Marlborough. We broke up and I to the ’Change, where with several people and my uncle Wight to drink a dish of coffee, and so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon, my eye and my throat being very bad, and my cold increasing so as I could not speak almost at all at night. So at night home to supper, that is a posset, and to bed.
. Up, and my cold continuing in great extremity I could not go out to church, but sat all day (a little time at dinner excepted) in my closet at the office till night drawing up a second letter to Mr. Coventry about the measure of masts to my great satisfaction, and so in the evening home, and my uncle and aunt Wight came to us and supped with us, where pretty merry, but that my cold put me out of humour. At night with my cold, and my eye also sore still, to bed.
. Up betimes, and the Duke being gone abroad today, as we heard by a messenger, I spent the morning at my office writing fair my yesterday’s work till almost 2 o’clock (only Sir G. Carteret coming I went down a little way by water towards Deptford, but having more mind to have my business done I pretended business at the ’Change, and so went into another boat), and then, eating a bit, my wife and I by coach to the Duke’s house, where we saw The Unfortunate Lovers;2087 but I know not whether I am grown more curious than I was or no, but I was not much pleased with it, though I know not where to lay the fault, unless it was that the house was very empty, by reason of a new play at the other house. Yet here was my Lady Castlemayne in a box, and it was pleasant to hear an ordinary lady hard by us, that it seems did not know her before, say, being told who she was, that “she was well enough.” Thence home, and I ended and sent away my letter to Mr. Coventry (having first read it and had the opinion of Sir W. Warren in the case), and so home to supper and to bed, my cold being pretty well gone, but my eye remaining still soare and rhumey, which I wonder at, my right eye ayling nothing.
. Up with some little discontent with my wife upon her saying that she had got and used some puppy-dog water, being put upon it by a desire of my aunt Wight to get some for her, who hath a mind, unknown to her husband, to get some for her ugly face. I to the office, where we sat all the morning, doing not much business through the multitude of counsellors, one hindering another. It was Mr. Coventry’s own saying to me in his coach going to the ’Change, but I wonder that he did give me no thanks for my letter last night, but I believe he did only forget it. Thence home, whither Luellin came and dined with me, but we made no long stay at dinner; for Heraclius2088 being acted, which my wife and I have a mighty mind to see, we do resolve, though not exactly agreeing with the letter of my vowe, yet altogether with the sense, to see another this month, by going hither instead of that at Court, there having been none conveniently since I made my vowe for us to see there, nor like to be this Lent, and besides we did walk home on purpose to make this going as cheap as that would have been, to have seen one at Court, and my conscience knows that it is only the saving of money and the time also that I intend by my oaths, and this has cost no more of either, so that my conscience before God do after good consultation and resolution of paying my forfeit, did my conscience accuse me of breaking my vowe, I do not find myself in the least apprehensive that I have done any violence to my oaths. The play hath one very good passage well managed in it, about two persons pretending, and yet denying themselves, to be son to the tyrant Phocas, and yet heire of Mauritius to the crown. The garments like Romans very well. The little girl2089 is come to act very prettily, and spoke the epilogue most admirably. But at the beginning, at the drawing up of the curtain, there was the finest scene of the Emperor and his people about him, standing in their fixed and different pastures in their Roman habits, above all that ever I yet saw at any of the theatres. Walked home, calling to see my brother Tom, who is in bed, and I doubt very ill of a consumption. To the office awhile, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up pretty betimes to my office, where all day long, but a little at home at dinner, at my office finishing all things about Mr. Wood’s contract for masts, wherein I am sure I shall save the King £400 before I have done. At night home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning doing business, and at noon to the ’Change and there very busy, and so home to dinner with my wife, to a good hog’s harslet,2090 a piece of meat I love, but have not eat of I think these seven years, and after dinner abroad by coach set her at Mrs. Hunt’s and I to Whitehall, and at the Privy Seale I enquired, and found the Bill come for the Corporation of the Royal Fishery; whereof the Duke of York is made present Governor, and several other very great persons, to the number of thirty-two, made his assistants for their lives: whereof, by my Lord Sandwich’s favour, I am one; and take it not only as a matter of honour, but that, that may come to be of profit to me, and so with great content went and called my wife, and so home and to the office, where busy late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, who not being up I stayed talking with Mr. Moore till my Lord was ready and come down, and went directly out without calling for me or seeing anybody. I know not whether he knew I was there, but I am apt to think not, because if he would have given me that slighting yet he would not have done it to others that were there. So I went back again doing nothing but discoursing with Mr. Moore, who I find by discourse to be grown rich, and indeed not to use me at all with the respect he used to do, but as his equal. He made me known to their Chaplain, who is a worthy, able man. Thence home, and by and by to the Coffeehouse, and thence to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, and after a little chat with my wife to the office, where all the afternoon till very late at the office busy, and so home to supper and to bed, hoping in God that my diligence, as it is really very useful for the King, so it will end in profit to myself. In the meantime I have good content in mind to see myself improve every day in knowledge and being known.
. Lay long pleasantly entertaining myself with my wife, and then up and to the office, where busy till noon, vexed to see how Sir J. Minnes deserves rather to be pitied for his dotage and folly than employed at a great salary to ruin the King’s business. At noon to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and then down to Deptford, where busy a while, and then walking home it fell hard a raining. So at Halfway house put in, and there meeting Mr. Stacy2091 with some company of pretty women, I took him aside to a room by ourselves, and there talked with him about the several sorts of tarrs, and so by and by parted, and I walked home and there late at the office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed talking with my wife, and then up in great doubt whether I should not go see Mr. Coventry or no, who hath not been well these two or three days, but it being foul weather I stayed within, and so to my office, and there all the morning reading some Common Law, to which I will allot a little time now and then, for I much want it. At noon home to dinner, and then after some discourse with my wife, to the office again, and by and by Sir W. Penn came to me after sermon and walked with me in the garden and then one comes to tell me that Anthony and Will Joyce were come to see me, so I in to them and made mighty much of them, and very pleasant we were, and most of their business I find to be to advise about getting some woman to attend my brother Tom, whom they say is very ill and seems much to want one. To which I agreed, and desired them to get their wives to enquire out one. By and by they bid me good night, but immediately as they were gone out of doors comes Mrs. Turner’s boy with a note to me to tell me that my brother Tom was so ill as they feared he would not long live, and that it would be fit I should come and see him. So I sent for them back, and they came, and Will Joyce desiring to speak with me alone I took him up, and there he did plainly tell me to my great astonishment that my brother is deadly ill, and that their chief business of coming was to tell me so, and what is worst that his disease is the pox, which he hath heretofore got, and hath not been cured, but is come to this, and that this is certain, though a secret told his father Fenner by the Doctor which he helped my brother to. This troubled me mightily, but however I thought fit to go see him for speech of people’s sake, and so walked along with them, and in our way called on my uncle Fenner (where I have not been these 12 months and more) and advised with him, and then to my brother, who lies in bed talking idle. He could only say that he knew me, and then fell to other discourse, and his face like a dying man, which Mrs. Turner, who was here, and others conclude he is. The company being gone, I took the maid, which seems a very grave and serious woman, and in W. Joyce’s company did inquire how things are with her master. She told me many things very discreetly, and said she had all his papers and books, and key of his cutting house, and showed me a bag which I and Wm. Joyce told, coming to £5 14s. 0d., which we left with her again, after giving her good counsel, and the boys, and seeing a nurse there of Mrs. Holden’s choosing, I left them, and so walked home greatly troubled to think of my brother’s condition, and the trouble that would arise to me by his death or continuing sick. So at home, my mind troubled, to bed.
. Up, and walked to my brother’s, where I find he hath continued talking idly all night, and now knows me not; which troubles me mightily. So I walked down and discoursed a great while alone with the maid, who tells me many passages of her master’s practices, and how she concludes that he has run behind hand a great while and owes money, and has been dunned by several people, among others by one Cave, both husband and wife, but whether it was for2092 money or something worse she knows not, but there is one Cranburne, I think she called him, in Fleet Lane with whom he hath many times been mighty private, but what their dealings have been she knows not, but believes these were naught, and then his sitting up two Saturday nights one after another when all were abed doing something to himself, which she now suspects what it was, but did not before, but tells me that he hath been a very bad husband as to spending his time, and hath often told him of it, so that upon the whole I do find he is, whether he lives or dies, a ruined man, and what trouble will befall me by it I know not. Thence to Whitehall; and in the Duke’s chamber, while he was dressing, two persons of quality that were there did tell his Royal Highness how the other night, in Holborne, about midnight, being at cards, a linkboy come by and run into the house, and told the people the house was a-falling. Upon this the whole family was frighted, concluding that the boy had said that the house was afire: so they deft their cards above, and one would have got out of the balcone, but it was not open; the other went up to fetch down his children, that were in bed; so all got clear out of the house. And no sooner so, but the house fell down indeed, from top to bottom.2093 It seems my Lord Southampton’s canaille2094 did come too near their foundation, and so weakened the house, and down it came; which, in every respect, is a most extraordinary passage. By and by into his closet and did our business with him. But I did not speed as I expected in a business about the manner of buying hemp for this year, which troubled me, but it proceeds only from my pride, that I must needs expect everything to be ordered just as I apprehend, though it was not I think from my errour, but their not being willing to hear and consider all that I had to propose. Being broke up I followed my Lord Sandwich and thanked him for his putting me into the Fishery, which I perceive he expected, and cried “Oh!” says he, “in the Fishery you mean. I told you I would remember you in it,” but offered no other discourse. But demanding whether he had any commands for me, methought he cried “No!” as if he had no more mind to discourse with me, which still troubles me and hath done all the day, though I think I am a fool for it, in not pursuing my resolution of going handsome in clothes and looking high, for that must do it when all is done with my Lord. Thence by coach with Sir W. Batten to the city, and his son Castle, who talks mighty highly against Captain Tayler, calling him knave, and I find that the old Boating father is led and talks just as the son do, or the son as the father would have him. ’Light and to Mr. Moxon’s, and there saw our office globes in doing, which will be very handsome but cost money. So to the Coffeehouse, and there very fine discourse with Mr. Hill the merchant, a pretty, gentile, young, and sober man. So to the ’Change, and thence home, where my wife and I fell out about my not being willing to have her have her gown laced, but would lay out the same money and more on a plain new one. At this she flounced away in a manner I never saw her, nor which I could ever endure. So I away to the office, though she had dressed herself to go see my Lady Sandwich. She by and by in a rage follows me, and coming to me tells me in spiteful manner like a vixen and with a look full of rancour that she would go buy a new one and lace it and make me pay for it, and then let me burn it if I would after she had done it, and so went away in a fury. This vexed me cruelly, but being very busy I had, not hand to give myself up to consult what to do in it, but anon, I suppose after she saw that I did not follow her, she came again to the office, where I made her stay, being busy with another, half an houre, and her stomach2095 coming down we were presently friends, and so after my business being over at the office we out and by coach to my Lady Sandwich’s, with whom I left my wife, and I to Whitehall, where I met Mr. Delsety, and after an hour’s discourse with him met with nobody to do other business with, but back again to my Lady, and after half an hour’s discourse with her to my brother’s, who I find in the same or worse condition. The doctors give him over and so do all that see him. He talks no sense two words together now; and I confess it made me weepe to see that he should not be able, when I asked him, to say who I was. I went to Mrs. Turner’s, and by her discourse with my brother’s Doctor, Mr. Powell, I find that she is full now of the disease which my brother is troubled with, and talks of it mightily, which I am sorry for, there being other company, but methinks it should be for her honour to forbear talking of it, the shame of this very thing I confess troubles me as much as anything. Back to my brother’s and took my wife, and carried her to my uncle Fenner’s and there had much private discourse with him. He tells me of the Doctor’s thoughts of my brother’s little hopes of recovery, and from that to tell me his thoughts long of my brother’s bad husbandry, and from that to say that he believes he owes a great deal of money, as to my cousin Scott I know not how much, and Dr. Thos. Pepys £30, but that the Doctor confesses that he is paid £20 of it, and what with that and what he owes my father and me I doubt he is in a very sad condition, that if he lives he will not be able to show his head, which will be a very great shame to me. After this I went in to my aunt and my wife and Anthony Joyce and his wife, who were by chance there, and drank and so home, my mind and head troubled, but I hope it will [be] over in a little time one way or other. After doing a little at my office of business I home to supper and to bed. From notice that my uncle Fenner did give my father the last week of my brother’s condition, my mother is coming up to town, which also do trouble me. The business between my Lords Chancellor and Bristoll, they say, is hushed up; and the latter gone or going, by the King’s licence, to France.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon comes Madam Turner and her daughter The., her chief errand to tell me that she had got Dr. Wiverly, her Doctor, to search my brother’s mouth, where Mr. Powell says there is an ulcer, from thence he concludes that he hath had the pox. But the Doctor swears that there is not, nor ever was any, and my brother being very sensible, which I was glad to hear, he did talk with him about it, and he did wholly disclaim that ever he had the disease, or that ever he said to Powell that he had it. All which did put me into great comfort as to the reproach which was spread against him. So I sent for a barrel of oysters, and they dined, and we were very merry, I being willing to be so upon this news. After dinner we took coach and to my brother’s, where contrary to my expectation he continues as bad or worse, talking idle, and now not at all knowing any of us as before. Here we stayed a great while, I going up and down the house looking after things. In the evening Dr. Wiverley came again, and I sent for Mr. Powell (the Doctor and I having first by ourselves searched my brother again at his privities, where he was as clear as ever he was born, and in the Doctor’s opinion had been ever so), and we three alone discoursed the business, where the coxcomb did give us his simple reasons for what he had said, which the Doctor fully confuted, and left the fellow only saying that he should cease to report any such thing, and that what he had said was the best of his judgment from my brother’s words and a ulcer, as he supposed, in his mouth. I threatened him that I would have satisfaction if I heard any more such discourse, and so good night to them two, giving the Doctor a piece for his fee, but the other nothing. I to my brother again, where Madam Turner and her company, and Mrs. Croxton, my wife, and Mrs. Holding. About 8 o’clock my brother began to fetch his spittle with more pain, and to speak as much but not so distinctly, till at last the phlegm getting the mastery of him, and he beginning as we thought to rattle, I had no mind to see him die, as we thought he presently would, and so withdrew and led Mrs. Turner home, but before I came back, which was in half a quarter of an hour, my brother was dead. I went up and found the nurse holding his eyes shut, and he poor wretch lying with his chops fallen, a most sad sight, and that which put me into a present very great transport of grief and cries, and indeed it was a most sad sight to see the poor wretch lie now still and dead, and pale like a stone. I stayed till he was almost cold, while Mrs. Croxton, Holden, and the rest did strip and lay him out, they observing his corpse, as they told me afterwards, to be as clear as any they ever saw, and so this was the end of my poor brother, continuing talking idle and his lips working even to his last that his phlegm hindered his breathing, and at last his breath broke out bringing a flood of phlegm and stuff out with it, and so he died. This evening he talked among other talk a great deal of French very plain and good, as, among others: quand un homme boit quand il n’a poynt d’inclination a boire il ne luy fait jamais de bien. I once begun to tell him something of his condition, and asked him whither he thought he should go. He in distracted manner answered me—“Why, whither should I go? there are but two ways: If I go, to the bad way I must give God thanks for it, and if I go the other way I must give God the more thanks for it; and I hope I have not been so undutiful and unthankful in my life but I hope I shall go that way.” This was all the sense, good or bad, that I could get of him this day. I left my wife to see him laid out, and I by coach home carrying my brother’s papers, all I could find, with me, and having wrote a letter to, my father telling him what hath been said I returned by coach, it being very late, and dark, to my brother’s, but all being gone, the corpse laid out, and my wife at Mrs. Turner’s, I thither, and there after an hour’s talk, we up to bed, my wife and I in the little blue chamber, and I lay close to my wife, being full of disorder and grief for my brother that I could not sleep nor wake with satisfaction, at last I slept till 5 or 6 o’clock.
. And then I rose and up, leaving my wife in bed, and to my brother’s, where I set them on cleaning the house, and my wife coming anon to look after things, I up and down to my cousin Stradwicke’s and uncle Fenner’s about discoursing for the funeral, which I am resolved to put off till Friday next. Thence home and trimmed myself, and then to the ’Change, and told my uncle Wight of my brother’s death, and so by coach to my cousin Turner’s and there dined very well, but my wife … in great pain we were forced to rise in some disorder, and in Mrs. Turner’s coach carried her home and put her to bed. Then back again with my cousin Norton2096 to Mrs. Turner’s, and there stayed a while talking with Dr. Pepys, the puppy, whom I had no patience to hear. So I left them and to my brother’s to look after things, and saw the coffin brought; and by and by Mrs. Holden came and saw him nailed up. Then came W. Joyce to me half drunk, and much ado I had to tell him the story of my brother’s being found clear of what was said, but he would interrupt me by some idle discourse or other, of his crying what a good man, and a good speaker my brother was, and God knows what. At last weary of him I got him away, and I to Mrs. Turner’s, and there, though my heart is still heavy to think of my poor brother, yet I could give way to my fancy to hear Mrs. The. play upon the Harpsicon, though the music did not please me neither. Thence to my brother’s and found them with my maid Elizabeth taking an inventory of the goods of the house, which I was well pleased at, and am much beholden to Mr. Honeywood’s man in doing of it. His name is Herbert, one that says he knew me when he lived with Sir Samuel Morland, but I have forgot him. So I left them at it, and by coach home and to my office, there to do a little business, but God knows my heart and head is so full of my brother’s death, and the consequences of it, that I can do very little or understand it. So home to supper, and after looking over some business in my chamber I to bed to my wife, who continues in bed in some pain still. This day I have a great barrel of oysters given me by Mr. Barrow, as big as 16 of others, and I took it in the coach with me to Mrs. Turner’s, and give them to her. This day the Parliament met again, after a long prorogation, but what they have done I have not been in the way to hear.
. Up and to my brother’s, where all the morning doing business against tomorrow, and so to my cousin Stradwicke’s about the same business, and to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, where my wife in bed sick still, but not so bad as yesterday. I dined by her, and so to the office, where we sat this afternoon, having changed this day our sittings from morning to afternoons, because of the Parliament which returned yesterday; but was adjourned till Monday next,2097 upon pretence that many of the members were said to be upon the road; and also the King had other affairs, and so desired them to adjourn till then. But the truth is, the King is offended at my Lord of Bristol, as they say, whom he hath found to have been all this while (pretending a desire of leave to go into France, and to have all the difference between him and the Chancellor made up), endeavouring to make factions in both Houses to the Chancellor. So the King did this to keep the Houses from meeting; and in the meanwhile sent a guard and a herald last night to have taken him at Wimbleton,2098 where he was in the morning, but could not find him: at which the King was and is still mightily concerned, and runs up and down to and from the Chancellor’s like a boy: and it seems would make Digby’s articles against the Chancellor to be treasonable reflections against his Majesty. So that the King is very high, as they say; and God knows what will follow upon it! After office I to my brother’s again, and thence to Madam Turner’s, in both places preparing things against tomorrow; and this night I have altered my resolution of burying him in the church yarde among my young brothers and sisters, and bury him in the church, in the middle aisle, as near as I can to my mother’s pew. This costs me 20s. more. This being all, home by coach, bringing my brother’s silver tankard for safety along with me, and so to supper, after writing to my father, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and walked to my brother’s, where a great while putting things in order against anon; then to Madam Turner’s and eat a breakfast there, and so to Wotton, my shoemaker, and there got a pair of shoes blacked on the soles against anon for me; so to my brother’s and to church, and with the grave-maker chose a place for my brother to lie in, just under my mother’s pew. But to see how a man’s tombes are at the mercy of such a fellow, that for sixpence he would (as his own words were), “I will jostle them together but I will make room for him;” speaking of the fullness of the middle aisle, where he was to lie; and that he would, for my father’s sake, do my brother that is dead all the civility he can; which was to disturb other corpse that are not quite rotten, to make room for him; and methought his manner of speaking it was very remarkable; as of a thing that now was in his power to do a man a courtesy or not. At noon my wife, though in pain, comes, but I being forced to go home, she went back with me, where I dressed myself, and so did Besse; and so to my brother’s again: whither, though invited, as the custom is, at one or two o’clock, they came not till four or five. But at last one after another they come, many more than I bid: and my reckoning that I bid was one hundred and twenty; but I believe there was nearer one hundred and fifty. Their service was six biscuits apiece, and what they pleased of burnt claret. My cousin Joyce Norton kept the wine and cakes above; and did give out to them that served, who had white gloves given them. But above all, I am beholden to Mrs. Holden, who was most kind, and did take mighty pains not only in getting the house and everything else ready, but this day in going up and down to see, the house filled and served, in order to mine, and their great content, I think; the men sitting by themselves in some rooms, and women by themselves in others, very close, but yet room enough. Anon to church,2099 walking out into the street to the Conduit, and so across the street, and had a very good company along with the corpse. And being come to the grave as above, Dr. Pierson, the minister of the parish, did read the service for buriall: and so I saw my poor brother laid into the grave; and so all broke up; and I and my wife and Madam Turner and her family to my brother’s, and by and by fell to a barrell of oysters, cake, and cheese, of Mr. Honiwood’s, with him, in his chamber and below, being too merry for so late a sad work. But, Lord! to see how the world makes nothing of the memory of a man, an houre after he is dead! And, indeed, I must blame myself; for though at the sight of him dead and dying, I had real grief for a while, while he was in my sight, yet presently after, and ever since, I have had very little grief indeed for him. By and by, it beginning to be late, I put things in some order in the house, and so took my wife and Besse (who hath done me very good service in cleaning and getting ready everything and serving the wine and things today, and is indeed a most excellent good-natured and faithful wench, and I love her mightily), by coach home, and so after being at the office to set down the day’s work home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon my wife and I alone, having a good hen, with eggs, to dinner, with great content. Then by coach to my brother’s, where I spent the afternoon in paying some of the charges of the buriall, and in looking over his papers, among which I find several letters of my brother John’s to him speaking very foule words of me and my deportment to him here, and very crafty designs about Sturtlow land and God knows what, which I am very glad to know, and shall make him repent them. Anon my father and my brother John came to town by coach. I sat till night with him, giving him an account of things. He, poor man, very sad and sickly. I in great pain by a simple compressing of my cods today by putting one leg over another as I have formerly done, which made me hasten home, and after a little at the office in great disorder home to bed.
. Kept my bed all the morning, having laid a poultice to my cods last night to take down the tumour there which I got yesterday, which it did do, being applied pretty warm, and soon after the beginning of the swelling, and the pain was gone also. We lay talking all the while, among other things of religion, wherein I am sorry so often to hear my wife talk of her being and resolving to die a Catholic,2100 and indeed a small matter, I believe, would absolutely turn her, which I am sorry for. Up at noon to dinner, and then to my chamber with a fire till late at night looking over my brother Thomas’s papers, sorting of them, among which I find many base letters of my brother John’s to him against me, and carrying on plots against me to promote Tom’s having of his Banbury2101 Mistress, in base slighting terms, and in worse of my sister Pall, such as I shall take a convenient time to make my father know, and him also to his sorrow. So after supper to bed, our people rising to wash tomorrow.
. Up, and it snowing this morning a little, which from the mildness of the winter and the weather beginning to be hot and the summer to come on apace, is a little strange to us. I did not go abroad for fear of my tumour, for fear it shall rise again, but stayed within, and by and by my father came, poor man, to me, and my brother John. After much talk and taking them up to my chamber, I did there after some discourse bring in any business of anger with John, and did before my father read all his roguish letters, which troubled my father mightily, especially to hear me say what I did, against my allowing anything for the time to come to him out of my own purse, and other words very severe, while he, like a simple rogue, made very silly and churlish answers to me, not like a man of any goodness or wit, at which I was as much disturbed as the other, and will be as good as my word in making him to his cost know that I will remember his carriage to me in this particular the longest day I live. It troubled me to see my poor father so troubled, whose good nature did make him, poor wretch, to yield, I believe, to comply with my brother Tom and him in part of their designs, but without any ill intent to me, or doubt of me or my good intentions to him or them, though it do trouble me a little that he should in any manner do it. They dined with me, and after dinner abroad with my wife to buy some things for her, and I to the office, where we sat till night, and then, after doing some business at my closet, I home and to supper and to bed. This day the Houses of Parliament met; and the King met them, with the Queen with him. And he made a speech to them:2102 among other things, discoursing largely of the plots abroad against him and the peace of the kingdom; and, among other things, that the dissatisfied party had great hopes upon the effect of the Act for a Triennial Parliament granted by his father, which he desired them to peruse, and, I think, repeal. So the Houses did retire to their own House, and did order the Act to be read tomorrow before them; and I suppose it will be repealed, though I believe much against the will of a good many that sit there.
. Up, and spent the whole morning and afternoon at my office, only in the evening, my wife being at my aunt Wight’s, I went thither, calling at my own house, going out found the parlour curtains drawn, and inquiring the reason of it, they told me that their mistress had got Mrs. Buggin’s fine little dog and our little bitch, which is proud at this time, and I am apt to think that she was helping him to line her, for going afterwards to my uncle Wight’s, and supping there with her, where very merry with Mr. Woolly’s drollery, and going home I found the little dog so little that of himself he could not reach our bitch, which I am sorry for, for it is the finest dog that ever I saw in my life, as if he were painted the colours are so finely mixed and shaded. God forgive me, it went against me to have my wife and servants look upon them while they endeavoured to do something. …
. Up, and going out saw Mrs. Buggin’s dog, which proves as I thought last night so pretty that I took him and the bitch into my closet below, and by holding down the bitch helped him to line her, which he did very stoutly, so as I hope it will take, for it is the prettiest dog that ever I saw. So to the office, where very busy all the morning, and so to the ’Change, and off hence with Sir W. Rider to the Trinity House, and there dined very well: and good discourse among the old men of Islands now and then rising and falling again in the Sea, and that there is many dangers of grounds and rocks that come just up to the edge almost of the sea, that is never discovered and ships perish without the world’s knowing the reason of it. Among other things, they observed, that there are but two seamen in the Parliament house, viz., Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn, and not above twenty or thirty merchants; which is a strange thing in an island, and no wonder that things of trade go no better nor are better understood. Thence home, and all the afternoon at the office, only for an hour in the evening my Lady Jemimah, Paulina, and Madam Pickering come to see us, but my wife would not be seen, being unready.2103 Very merry with them; they mightily talking of their thrifty living for a fortnight before their mother came to town, and other such simple talk, and of their merry life at Brampton, at my father’s, this winter. So they being gone, to the office again till late, and so home and to supper and to bed.
. Called up by my father, poor man, coming to advise with me about Tom’s house and other matters, and he being gone I down by water to Greenwich, it being very foggy, and I walked very finely to Woolwich, and there did very much business at both yards, and thence walked back, Captain Grove with me talking, and so to Deptford and did the like there, and then walked to Redriffe (calling and eating a bit of collops and eggs at Halfway house), and so home to the office, where we sat late, and home weary to supper and to bed.
. Up and by water to Whitehall, and there to chapel; where it was most infinite full to hear Dr. Critton.2104 Being not known, some great persons in the pew I pretended to, and went in, did question my coming in. I told them my pretence; so they turned to the orders of the chapel, which hung behind upon the wall, and read it; and were satisfied; but they did not demand whether I was in waiting or no; and so I was in some fear lest he that was in waiting might come and betray me. The Doctor preached upon the thirty-first of Jeremy, and the twenty-first and twenty-second verses, about a woman compassing a man; meaning the Virgin conceiving and bearing our Saviour. It was the worst sermon I ever heard him make, I must confess; and yet it was good, and in two places very bitter, advising the King to do as the Emperor Severus did, to hang up a Presbyter John (a short coat and a long gown interchangeably) in all the Courts of England. But the story of Severus was pretty, that he hanged up forty senators before the Senate house, and then made a speech presently to the Senate in praise of his own lenity; and then decreed that never any senator after that time should suffer in the same manner without consent of the Senate: which he compared to the proceeding of the Long Parliament against my Lord Strafford. He said the greatest part of the lay magistrates in England were Puritans, and would not do justice; and the Bishops, their powers were so taken away and lessened, that they could not exercise the power they ought. He told the King and the ladies plainly, speaking of death and of the skulls and bones of dead men and women,2105 how there is no difference; that nobody could tell that of the great Marius or Alexander from a pyoneer; nor, for all the pains the ladies take with their faces, he that should look in a charnels-house could not distinguish which was Cleopatra’s, or fair Rosamond’s, or Jane Shoare’s. Thence by water home. After dinner to the office, thence with my wife to see my father and discourse how he finds Tom’s matters, which he do very ill, and that he finds him to have been so negligent, that he used to trust his servants with cutting out of clothes, never hardly cutting out anything himself; and, by the abstract of his accounts, we find him to owe above £290, and to be coming to him under £200. Thence home with my wife, it being very dirty on foot, and bought some fowl in Gracious Street2106 and some oysters against our feast tomorrow. So home, and after at the office a while, home to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes and to my office, and there read over some papers against a meeting by and by at this office of Mr. Povy, Sir W. Rider, Creed, and Vernaty,2107 and Mr. Gauden about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts for Tangier, wherein we proceeded a good way; but, Lord! to see how ridiculous Mr. Povy is in all he says or do; like a man not more fit for to be in such employments as he is, and particularly that of Treasurer (paying many and very great sums without the least written order) as he is to be King of England, and seems but this day, after much discourse of mine, to be sensible of that part of his folly, besides a great deal more in other things. This morning in discourse Sir W. Rider [said], that he hath kept a journals of his life for almost these forty years, even to this day and still do, which pleases me mightily. That being done Sir J. Minnes and I sat all the morning, and then I to the ’Change, and there got away by pretence of business with my uncle Wight to put off Creed, whom I had invited to dinner, and so home, and there found Madam Turner, her daughter The., Joyce Norton, my father and Mr. Honywood, and by and by come my uncle Wight and aunt. This being my solemn feast for my cutting of the stone,2108 it being now, blessed be God! this day six years since the time; and I bless God I do in all respects find myself free from that disease or any signs of it, more than that upon the least cold I continue to have pain in making water, by gathering of wind and growing costive, till which be removed I am at no ease, but without that I am very well. One evil more I have, which is that upon the least squeeze almost my cods begin to swell and come to great pain, which is very strange and troublesome to me, though upon the speedy applying of a poultice it goes down again, and in two days I am well again. Dinner not being presently ready I spent some time myself and showed them a map of Tangier2109 left this morning at my house by Creed, cut by our order, the Commissioners, and drawn by Jonas Moore, which is very pleasant, and I purpose to have it finely set out and hung up. Mrs. Hunt coming to see my wife by chance dined here with us. After dinner Sir W. Batten sent to speak with me, and told me that he had proffered our bill today in the House, and that it was read without any dissenters, and he fears not but will pass very well, which I shall be glad of. He told me also how Sir [Richard] Temple hath spoke very discontentful words in the House about the Tryennial Bill;2110 but it hath been read the second time today, and committed; and, he believes, will go on without more ado, though there are many in the House are displeased at it, though they dare not say much. But above all expectation, Mr. Prin is the man against it, comparing it to the idol whose head was of gold, and his body and legs and feet of different metal. So this Bill had several degrees of calling of Parliaments, in case the King, and then the Council, and then the Lord Chancellor, and then the Sheriffes, should fail to do it. He tells me also, how, upon occasion of some ’prentices being put in the pillory today for beating of their masters,2111 or some suchlike thing, in Cheapside, a company of ’prentices came and rescued them, and pulled down the pillory; and they being set up again, did the like again. So that the Lord Mayor and Major General Browne was fain to come and stay there, to keep the peace; and drums, all up and down the city, was beat to raise the trained bands, for to quiet the town, and by and by, going out with my uncle and aunt Wight by coach with my wife through Cheapside (the rest of the company after much content and mirth being broke up), we saw a trained band stand in Cheapside upon their guard. We went, much against my uncle’s will, as far almost as Hyde Park, he and my aunt falling out all the way about it, which vexed me, but by this I understand my uncle more than ever I did, for he was mighty soon angry, and wished a pox take her, which I was sorry to hear. The weather I confess turning on a sudden to rain did make it very unpleasant, but yet there was no occasion in the world for his being so angry, but she bore herself very discreetly, and I must confess she proves to me much another woman than I thought her, but all was peace again presently, and so it raining very fast, we met many brave coaches coming from the Park and so we turned and set them down at home, and so we home ourselves, and ended the day with great content to think how it hath pleased the Lord in six years time to raise me from a condition of constant and dangerous and most painful sickness and low condition and poverty to a state of constant health almost, great honour and plenty, for which the Lord God of heaven make me truly thankful. My wife found her gown come home laced, which is indeed very handsome, but will cost me a great deal of money, more than ever I intended, but it is but for once. So to the office and did business, and then home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed wrangling with my wife about the charge she puts me to at this time for clothes more than I intended, and very angry we were, but quickly friends again. And so rising and ready I to my office, and there fell upon business, and then to dinner, and then to my office again to my business, and by and by in the afternoon walked forth towards my father’s, but it being church time, walked to St. James’s,2112 to try if I could see the belle Butler, but could not; only saw her sister, who indeed is pretty, with a fine Roman nose. Thence walked through the ducking-pond fields; but they are so altered since my father used to carry us to Islington,2113 to the old man’s, at the King’s Head, to eat cakes and ale (his name was Pitts) that I did not know which was the ducking-pond nor where I was. So through F[l]ee[t] lane to my father’s, and there met Mr. Moore, and discoursed with him and my father about who should administer for my brother Tom, and I find we shall have trouble in it, but I will clear my hands of it, and what vexed me, my father seemed troubled that I should seem to rely so wholly upon the advice of Mr. Moore, and take nobody else, but I satisfied him, and so home; and in Cheapside, both coming and going, it was full of apprentices, who have been here all this day, and have done violence, I think, to the master of the boys that were put in the pillory yesterday. But, Lord! to see how the train-bands are raised upon this: the drums beating everywhere as if an enemy were upon them; so much is this city subject to be put into a disarray upon very small occasions. But it was pleasant to hear the boys, and particularly one little one, that I demanded the business. He told me that that had never been done in the city since it was a city, two prentices put in the pillory, and that it ought not to be so. So I walked home, and then it being fine moonshine with my wife an houre in the garden, talking of her clothes against Easter and about her maids, Jane being to be gone, and the great dispute whether Besse, whom we both love, should be raised to be chamber-maid or no. We have both a mind to it, but know not whether we should venture the making her proud and so make a bad chamber-maid of a very good natured and sufficient cook-maid. So to my office a little, and then to supper, prayers and to bed.
. This is the first morning that I have begun, and I hope shall continue to rise betimes in the morning, and so up and to my office, and thence about 7 o’clock to T. Trice, and advised with him about our administering to my brother Tom, and I went to my father and told him what to do; which was to administer and to let my cousin Scott have a letter of Attorney to follow the business here in his absence for him, who by that means will have the power of paying himself (which we cannot however hinder) and do us a kindness we think too. But, Lord! what a shame, methinks, to me, that, in this condition, and at this age, I should know no better the laws of my own country! Thence to Westminster Hall, and spent till noon, it being Parliament time, and at noon walked with Creed into St. James’s Park, talking of many things, particularly of the poor parts and great unfitness for business of Mr. Povy, and yet what a show he makes in the world. Mr. Coventry not being come to his chamber, I walked through the house with him for an hour in St. James’s2114 fields talking of the same subject, and then parted, and back and with great impatience, sometimes reading, sometimes walking, sometimes thinking that Mr. Coventry, though he invited us to dinner with him, was gone with the rest of the office without a dinner. At last, at past 4 o’clock I heard that the Parliament was not up yet, and so walked to Westminster Hall, and there found it so, and meeting with Sir J. Minnes, and being very hungry, went over with him to the Leg, and before we had cut a bit, the House rises, however we eat a bit and away to St. James’s and there eat a second part of our dinner with Mr. Coventry and his brother Harry,2115 Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn. The great matter today in the House hath been, that Mr. Vaughan,2116 the great speaker, is this day come to town, and hath declared himself in a speech of an houre and a half, with great reason and eloquence, against the repealing of the Bill for Triennial Parliaments; but with no success: but the House have carried it that there shall be such Parliaments, but without any coercive power upon the King, if he will bring this Act. But, Lord! to see how the best things are not done without some design; for I perceive all these gentlemen that I was with today were against it (though there was reason enough on their side); yet purely, I could perceive, because it was the King’s mind to have it; and should he demand anything else, I believe they would give it him. But this the discontented Presbyters, and the faction of the House will be highly displeased with; but it was carried clearly against them in the House. We had excellent good table-talk, some of which I have entered in my book of stories. So with them by coach home, and there find (bye my wife), that Father Fogourdy hath been with her today, and she is mightily for our going to hear a famous Reulé preach at the French Embassador’s house: I pray God he do not tempt her in any matters of religion, which troubles me; and also, she had messages from her mother today, who sent for her old morning-gown, which was almost past wearing; and I used to call it her kingdom,2117 from the ease and content she used to have in the wearing of it. I am glad I do not hear of her begging anything of more value, but I do not like that these messages should now come all upon Monday morning, when my wife expects of course I should be abroad at the Duke’s. To the office, where Mr. Norman2118 came and showed me a design of his for the storekeeper’s books, for the keeping of them regular in order to a balance, which I am mightily satisfied to see, and shall love the fellow the better, as he is in all things sober, so particularly for his endeavour to do something in this thing so much wanted. So late home to supper and to bed, weary with walking so long to no purpose in the Park today.
. Was called up this morning by a messenger from Sir G. Carteret to come to him to Sir W. Batten’s, and so I rose and thither to him, and with him and Sir J. Minnes to Sir G. Carteret’s to examine his accounts, and there we sat at it all the morning. About noon Sir W. Batten came from the House of Parliament and told us our Bill for our office was read the second time today, with great applause, and is committed. By and by to dinner, where good cheere, and Sir G. Carteret in his humour a very good man, and the most kind father and pleased father in his children that ever I saw. Here is now hung up a picture of my Lady Carteret, drawn by Lilly, a very fine picture, but yet not so good as I have seen of his doing. After dinner to the business again without any intermission till almost night, and then home, and took coach to my father to see and discourse with him, and so home again and to my office, where late, and then home to bed.
. Up very betimes to my office, and thence at 7 o’clock to Sir G. Carteret, and there with Sir J. Minnes made an end of his accounts, but stayed not dinner, my Lady having made us drink our morning draught there of several wines, but I drank nothing but some of her coffee, which was poorly made, with a little sugar in it. Thence to the ’Change a great while, and had good discourse with Captain Cocke at the Coffeehouse about a Dutch war, and it seems the King’s design is by getting underhand the merchants to bring in their complaints to the Parliament, to make them in honour begin a war, which he cannot in honour declare first, for fear they should not second him with money. Thence homewards, staying a pretty while with my little she milliner at the end of Birchin Lane, talking and buying gloves of her, and then home to dinner, and in the afternoon had a meeting upon the Chest business, but I fear unless I have time to look after it nothing will be done, and that I fear I shall not. In the evening comes Sir W. Batten, who tells us that the Committee have approved of our bill with very few amendments in words, not in matter. So to my office, where late with Sir W. Warren, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and to my office, where by and by comes Povy, Sir W. Rider, Mr. Bland, Creed, and Vernatty, about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, which we now went through, but with great difficulty, and many high words between Mr. Povy and I; for I could not endure to see so many things extraordinary put in, against truthe and reason. He was very angry, but I endeavoured all I could to profess my satisfaction in my Lord’s part of the accounts, but not in those foolish idle things, they say I said, that others had put in. Anon we rose and parted, both of us angry, but I contented, because I knew all of them must know I was in the right. Then with Creed to Deptford, where I did a great deal of business enquiring into the business of canvas and other things with great content, and so walked back again, good discourse between Creed and I by the way, but most upon the folly of Povy, and at home found Luellin, and so we to dinner, and thence I to the office, where we sat all the afternoon late, and being up and my head mightily crowded with business, I took my wife by coach to see my father. I left her at his house and went to him to an alehouse hard by, where my cousin Scott was, and my father’s new tenant, Langford, a tailor, to whom I have promised my custom, and he seems a very modest, careful young man. Thence my wife coming with the coach to the alley end I home, and after supper to the making up my monthly accounts, and to my great content find myself worth above £900, the greatest sum I ever yet had. Having done my accounts, late to bed. My head of late mighty full of business, and with good content to myself in it, though sometimes it troubles me that nobody else but I should bend themselves to serve the King with that diligence, whereby much of my pains proves ineffectual.
April 1664
. Up and to my office, where busy till noon, and then to the ’Change, where I found all the merchants concerned with the presenting their complaints to the Committee of Parliament appointed to receive them this afternoon against the Dutch. So home to dinner, and thence by coach, setting my wife down at the New Exchange, I to Whitehall; and coming too soon for the Tangier Committee walked to Mr. Blagrave for a song. I left long ago there, and here I spoke with his kinswoman, he not being within, but did not hear her sing, being not enough acquainted with her, but would be glad to have her, to come and be at my house a week now and then. Back to Whitehall, and in the Gallery met the Duke of York (I also saw the Queen going to the Park, and her Maids of Honour: she herself looks ill, and methinks Mrs. Stewart is grown fatter, and not so fair as she was); and he called me to him, and discoursed a good while with me; and after he was gone, twice or thrice stayed and called me again to him, the whole length of the house: and at last talked of the Dutch; and I perceive do much wish that the Parliament will find reason to fall out with them. He gone, I by and by found that the Committee of Tangier met at the Duke of Albemarle’s, and so I have lost my labour. So with Creed to the ’Change, and there took up my wife and left him, and we two home, and I to walk in the garden with W. Howe, whom we took up, he having been to see us, he tells me how Creed has been questioned before the Council about a letter that has been met with, wherein he is mentioned by some fanatics as a serviceable friend to them, but he says he acquitted himself well in it, but, however, something sticks against him, he says, with my Lord, at which I am not very sorry, for I believe he is a false fellow. I walked with him to Paul’s, he telling me how my Lord is little at home, minds his carding and little else, takes little notice of anybody; but that he do not think he is displeased, as I fear, with me, but is strange to all, which makes me the less troubled. So walked back home, and late at the office. So home and to bed. This day Mrs. Turner did lend me, as a rarity, a manuscript of one Mr. Wells, writ long ago, teaching the method of building a ship, which pleases me mightily. I was at it tonight, but durst not stay long at it, I being come to have a great pain and water in my eyes after candlelight.
. Up and to my office, and afterwards sat, where great contest with Sir W. Batten and Mr. Wood, and that doting fool Sir J. Minnes, that says whatever Sir W. Batten says, though never minding whether to the King’s profit or not. At noon to the Coffeehouse, where excellent discourse with Sir W. Petty, who proposed it as a thing that is truly questionable, whether there really be any difference between waking and dreaming, that it is hard not only to tell how we know when we do a thing really or in a dream, but also to know what the difference [is] between one and the other. Thence to the ’Change, but having at this discourse long afterwards with Sir Thomas Chamberlin,2119 who tells me what I heard from others, that the complaints of most Companies were yesterday presented to the Committee of Parliament against the Dutch, excepting that of the East India, which he tells me was because they would not be said to be the first and only cause of a war with Holland, and that it is very probable, as well as most necessary, that we fall out with that people. I went to the ’Change, and there found most people gone, and so home to dinner, and thence to Sir W. Warren’s, and with him past the whole afternoon, first looking over two ships2120 of Captain Taylor’s and Phin. Pett’s now in building, and am resolved to learn something of the art, for I find it is not hard and very useful, and thence to Woolwich, and after seeing Mr. Falconer, who is very ill, I to the yard, and there heard Mr. Pett tell me several things of Sir W. Batten’s ill managements, and so with Sir W. Warren walked to Greenwich, having good discourse, and thence by water, it being now moonshine and 9 or 10 o’clock at night, and landed at Wapping, and by him and his man safely brought to my door, and so he home, having spent the day with him very well. So home and eat something, and then to my office a while, and so home to prayers and to bed.
. Being weary last night lay long, and called up by W. Joyce. So I rose, and his business was to ask advice of me, he being summonsed to the House of Lords tomorrow, for endeavouring to arrest my Lady Peters2121 for a debt. I did give him advice, and will assist him. He stayed all the morning, but would not dine with me. So to my office and did business. At noon home to dinner, and being set with my wife in the kitchen my father comes and sat down there and dined with us. After dinner gives me an account of what he had done in his business of his house and goods, which is almost finished, and he the next week expects to be going down to Brampton again, which I am glad of because I fear the children of my Lord that are there for fear of any discontent. He being gone I to my office, and there very busy setting papers in order till late at night, only in the afternoon my wife sent for me home, to see her new laced gown, that is her gown that is new laced; and indeed it becomes her very nobly, and is well made. I am much pleased with it. At night to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up, and walked to my Lord Sandwich’s; and there spoke with him about W. Joyce, who told me he would do what was fit in so tender a point. I can yet discern a coldness in him to admit me to any discourse with him. Thence to Westminster, to the Painted Chamber, and there met the two Joyces. Will in a very melancholy taking. After a little discourse I to the Lords’ House before they sat; and stood within it a good while, while the Duke of York came to me and spoke to me a good while about the new ship2122 at Woolwich. Afterwards I spoke with my Lord Barkeley and my Lord Peterborough about it.2123 And so stayed without a good while, and saw my Lady Peters, an impudent jade, soliciting all the Lords on her behalf. And at last W. Joyce was called in; and by the consequences, and what my Lord Peterborough told me, I find that he did speak all he said to his disadvantage, and so was committed to the Black Rod: which is very hard, he doing what he did by the advice of my Lord Peters’ own steward. But the Sergeant of the Black Rod did direct one of his messengers to take him in custody, and so he was peaceably conducted to the Swan with two Necks, in Tuttle Street, to a handsome dining room; and there was most civilly used, my uncle Fenner, and his brother Anthony, and some other friends being with him. But who would have thought that the fellow that I should have sworn could have spoken before all the world should in this be so daunted, as not to know what he said, and now to cry like a child. I protest, it is very strange to observe. I left them providing for his stay there tonight and getting a petition against tomorrow, and so away to Westminster Hall, and meeting Mr. Coventry, he took me to his chamber, with Sir William Hickeman,2124 a member of their House, and a very civil gentleman. Here we dined very plentifully, and thence to Whitehall to the Duke’s, where we all met, and after some discourse of the condition of the Fleet, in order to a Dutch war, for that, I perceive, the Duke hath a mind it should come to, we away to the office, where we sat, and I took care to rise betimes, and so by water to Halfway House, talking all the way good discourse with Mr. Wayth, and there found my wife, who was gone with her maid Besse to have a walk. But, Lord! how my jealous mind did make me suspect that she might have some appointment to meet somebody. But I found the poor souls coming away thence, so I took them back, and eat and drank, and then home, and after at the office a while, I home to supper and to bed. It was a sad sight, me thought, today to see my Lord Peters coming out of the House fall out with his lady (from whom he is parted) about this business; saying that she disgraced him. But she hath been a handsome woman, and is, it seems, not only a lewd woman, but very high-spirited.
. Up very betimes, and walked to my cousin Anthony Joyce’s, and thence with him to his brother Will, in Tuttle Street, where I find him pretty cheery over [what] he was yesterday (like a coxcomb), his wife being come to him, and having had his boy with him last night. Here I stayed an hour or two and wrote over a fresh petition, that which was drawn by their solicitor not pleasing me, and thence to the Painted chamber, and by and by away by coach to my Lord Peterborough’s, and there delivered the petition into his hand, which he promised most readily to deliver to the House today. Thence back, and there spoke to several Lords, and so did his solicitor (one that W. Joyce hath promised £5 to if he be released). Lord Peterborough presented a petition to the House from W. Joyce: and a great dispute, we hear, there was in the House for and against it. At last it was carried that he should be bailed till the House meets again after Easter, he giving bond for his appearance. This was not so good as we hoped, but as good as we could well expect. Anon comes the King and passed the Bill for repealing the Triennial Act,2125 and another about Writs of Errour. I crowded in and heard the King’s speech to them; but he speaks the worst that ever I heard man in my life worse than if he read it all, and he had it in writing in his hand. Thence, after the House was up, and I inquired what the order of the House was, I to W. Joyce,2126 with his brother, and told them all. Here was Kate come, and is a comely fat woman. I would not stay dinner, thinking to go home to dinner, and did go by water as far as the bridge, but thinking that they would take it kindly my being there, to be bailed for him if there was need, I returned, but finding them gone out to look after it, only Will and his wife and sister left and some friends that came to visit him, I to Westminster Hall, and by and by by agreement to Mrs. Lane’s lodging, whither I sent for a lobster, and with Mr. Swayne and his wife eat it, and argued before them mightily for Hawly, but all would not do, although I made her angry by calling her old, and making her know what herself is. Her body was out of temper for any dalliance, and so after staying there 3 or 4 hours, but yet taking care to have my oath safe of not staying a quarter of an hour together with her, I went to W. Joyce, where I find the order come, and bail (his father and brother) given; and he paying his fees, which come to above £2, besides £5 he is to give one man, and his charges of eating and drinking here, and 10s. a-day as many days as he stands under bail: which, I hope, will teach him hereafter to hold his tongue better than he used to do. Thence with Anth. Joyce’s wife alone home talking of Will’s folly, and having set her down, home myself, where I find my wife dressed as if she had been abroad, but I think she was not, but she answering me some way that I did not like I pulled her by the nose, indeed to offend her, though afterwards to appease her I denied it, but only it was done in haste. The poor wretch took it mighty ill, and I believe besides wringing her nose she did feel pain, and so cried a great while, but by and by I made her friends, and so after supper to my office a while, and then home to bed. This day great numbers of merchants came to a Grand Committee of the House to bring in their claims against the Dutch. I pray God guide the issue to our good!
. Up and to my office, whither by and by came John Noble, my father’s old servant, to speake with me. I smelling the business, took him home; and there, all alone, he told me how he had been serviceable to my brother Tom, in the business of his getting his servant, an ugly jade, Margaret, with child. She was brought to bed in St. Sepulchre’s parish of two children; one is dead, the other is alive; her name Elizabeth, and goes by the name of Taylor, daughter to John Taylor. It seems Tom did a great while trust one Crawly with the business, who daily got money of him; and at last, finding himself abused, he broke the matter to J. Noble, upon a vowe of secrecy. Tom’s first plot was to go on the other side the water and give a beggar woman something to take the child. They did once go, but did nothing, J. Noble saying that seven years hence the mother might come to demand the child and force him to produce it, or to be suspected of murder. Then I think it was that they consulted, and got one Cave, a poor pensioner in St. Bride’s parish to take it, giving him £5, he thereby promising to keepe it forever without more charge to them. The parish hereupon indite the man Cave for bringing this child upon the parish, and by Sir Richard Browne he is sent to the Counter. Cave thence writes to Tom to get him out. Tom answers him in a letter of his own hand, which J. Noble showed me, but not signed by him, wherein he speaks of freeing him and getting security for him, but nothing as to the business of the child, or anything like it: so that forasmuch as I could guess, there is nothing therein to my brother’s prejudice as to the main point, and therefore I did not labour to tear or take away the paper. Cave being released, demands £5 more to secure my brother forever against the child; and he was forced to give it him and took bond of Cave in £100, made at a scrivener’s, one Hudson, I think, in the Old Bailey, to secure John Taylor, and his assigns, etc. (in consideration of £10 paid him), from all trouble, or charge of meat, drink, clothes, and breeding of Elizabeth Taylor; and it seems, in the doing of it, J. Noble was looked upon as the assignee of this John Taylor. Noble says that he furnished Tom with this money, and is also bound by another bond to pay him 20s. more this next Easter Monday; but nothing for either sum appears under Tom’s hand. I told him how I am like to lose a great sum by his death, and would not pay any more myself, but I would speake to my father about it against the afternoon. So away he went, and I all the morning in my office busy, and at noon home to dinner mightily oppressed with wind, and after dinner took coach and to Paternoster Row, and there bought a pretty silke for a petticoat for my wife, and thence set her down at the New Exchange, and I leaving the coat at Unthanke’s, went to Whitehall, but the Council meeting at Worcester House I went thither, and there delivered to the Duke of Albemarle a paper touching some Tangier business, and thence to the ’Change for my wife, and walked to my father’s, who was packing up some things for the country. I took him up and told him this business of Tom, at which the poor wretch was much troubled, and desired me that I would speak with J. Noble, and do what I could and thought fit in it without concerning him in it. So I went to Noble, and saw the bond that Cave did give and also Tom’s letter that I mentioned above, and upon the whole I think some shame may come, but that it will be hard from anything I see there to prove the child to be his. Thence to my father and told what I had done, and how I had quieted Noble by telling him that, though we are resolved to part with no more money out of our own purses, yet if he can make it appear a true debt that it may be justifiable for us to pay it, we will do our part to get it paid, and said that I would have it paid before my own debt. So my father and I both a little satisfied, though vexed to think what a rogue my brother was in all respects. I took my wife by coach home, and to my office, where late with Sir W. Warren, and so home to supper and to bed. I heard today that the Dutch have begun with us by granting letters of marque against us; but I believe it not.
. Up and to my office, where busy, and by and by comes Sir W. Warren and old Mr. Bond in order to the resolving me some questions about masts and their proportions, but he could say little to me to my satisfaction, and so I held him not long but parted. So to my office busy till noon and then to the ’Change, where high talk of the Dutch’s protest against our Royal Company in Guinea,2127 and their granting letters of marque against us there, and everybody expects a war, but I hope it will not yet be so, nor that this is true. Thence to dinner, where my wife got me a pleasant French fricassee of veal for dinner, and thence to the office, where vexed to see how Sir W. Batten ordered things this afternoon (vide my office book, for about this time I have begun, my notions and informations increasing now greatly every day, to enter all occurrences extraordinary in my office in a book by themselves), and so in the evening after long discourse and eased my mind by discourse with Sir W. Warren, I to my business late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, and anon, it begunn to be fair after a great shower this morning, Sir W. Batten and I by water (calling his son Castle by the way, between whom and I no notice at all of his letter the other day to me) to Deptford, and after a turn in the yard, I went with him to the Almes’-house to see the new building which he, with some ambition, is building of there, during his being Master of Trinity House; and a good worke it is, but to see how simply he answered somebody concerning setting up the arms of the corporation upon the door, that and anything else he did not deny it, but said he would leave that to the master that comes after him. There I left him and to the King’s yard again, and there made good inquiry into the business of the poop lanterns, wherein I found occasion to correct myself mightily for what I have done in the contract with the platerer, and am resolved, though I know not how, to make them to alter it, though they signed it last night, and so I took Stanes2128 home with me by boat and discoursed it, and he will come to reason when I can make him to understand it. No sooner landed but it fell a mighty storm of rain and hail, so I put into a cane shop and bought one to walk with, cost me 4s. 6d., all of one joint. So home to dinner, and had an excellent Good Friday dinner of pease porridge and apple pie. So to the office all the afternoon preparing a new book for my contracts, and this afternoon come home the office globes done to my great content. In the evening a little to visit Sir W. Penn, who hath a feeling this day or two of his old pain. Then to walk in the garden with my wife, and so to my office a while, and then home to the only Lenten supper I have had of wiggs2129 and ale, and so to bed. This morning betimes came to my office to me boatswain Smith of Woolwich, telling me a notable piece of knavery of the officers of the yard and Mr. Gold in behalf of a contract made for some old ropes by Mr. Wood, and I believe I shall find Sir W. Batten of the plot (vide my office daybook).2130
. The last night, whether it was from cold I got today upon the water I know not, or whether it was from my mind being over concerned with Stanes’s business of the platery of the navy, for my minds was mighty troubled with the business all night long, I did wake about one o’clock in the morning, a thing I most rarely do, and pissed a little with great pain, continued sleepy, but in a high fever all night, fiery hot, and in some pain. Towards morning I slept a little and waking found myself better, but … with some pain, and rose I confess with my clothes sweating, and it was somewhat cold too, which I believe might do me more hurt, for I continued cold and apt to shake all the morning, but that some trouble with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten kept me warm. At noon home to dinner upon tripes, and so though not well abroad with my wife by coach to her Tailor’s and the New Exchange, and thence to my father’s and spoke one word with him, and thence home, where I found myself sick in my stomach and vomited, which I do not use to do. Then I drank a glass or two of Hypocras, and to the office to dispatch some business, necessary, and so home and to bed, and by the help of Mithrydate2131 slept very well.
. Lay long in bed, and then up and my wife dressed herself, it being Easter day, but I not being so well as to go out, she, though much against her will, stayed at home with me; for she had put on her new best gowns, which indeed is very fine now with the lace; and this morning her tailor brought home her other new laced silks gowns with a smaller lace, and new petticoats, I bought the other day both very pretty. We spent the day in pleasant talks and company one with another, reading in Dr. Fuller’s book2132 what he says of the family of the Cliffords and Kingsmills, and at night being myself better than I was by taking a glyster, which did carry away a great deal of wind, I after supper at night went to bed and slept well.
. Lay long talking with my wife, then up and to my chamber preparing papers against my father comes to lie here for discourse about country business. Dined well with my wife at home, being myself not yet thorough well, making water with some pain, but better than I was, and all my fear of an ague gone away. In the afternoon my father came to see us, and he gone I up to my morning’s work again, and so in the evening a little to the office and to see Sir W. Batten, who is ill again, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after my wife had dressed herself very fine in her new laced gown, and very handsome indeed, W. Howe also coming to see us, I carried her by coach to my uncle Wight’s and set her down there, and W. Howe and I to the Coffeehouse, where we sat talking about getting of him some place under my Lord of advantage if he should go to sea, and I would be glad to get him secretary and to out Creed if I can, for he is a crafty and false rogue. Thence a little to the ’Change, and thence took him to my uncle Wight’s, where dined my father, poor melancholy man, that used to be as full of life as anybody, and also my aunt’s brother, Mr. Sutton, a merchant in Flanders, a very sober, fine man, and Mr. Cole and his lady; but, Lord! how I used to adore that man’s talk, and now methinks he is but an ordinary man, his son a pretty boy indeed, but his nose unhappily awry. Other good company and an indifferent, and but indifferent dinner for so much company, and after dinner got a coach, very dear, it being Easter time and very foul weather, to my Lord’s, and there visited my Lady, and leaving my wife there I and W. Howe to Mr. Pagett’s, and there heard some music not very good, but only one Dr. Walgrave, an Englishman bred at Rome, who plays the best upon the lute that I ever heard man. Here I also met Mr. Hill2133 the little merchant, and after all was done we sung. I did well enough a Psalm or two of Lawes; he I perceive has good skill and sings well, and a friend of his sings a good base. Thence late walked with them two as far as my Lord’s, thinking to take up my wife and carry them home, but there being no coach to be got away they went, and I stayed a great while, it being very late, about 10 o’clock, before a coach could be got. I found my Lord and ladies and my wife at supper. My Lord seems very kind. But I am apt to think still the worst, and that it is only in show, my wife and Lady being there. So home, and find my father come to lie at our house; and so supped, and saw him, poor man, to bed, my heart never being fuller of love to him, nor admiration of his prudence and pains heretofore in the world than now, to see how Tom hath carried himself in his trade; and how the poor man hath his thoughts going to provide for his younger children and my mother. But I hope they shall never want. So myself and wife to bed.
. Though late, past 12, before we went to bed, yet I heard my poor father up, and so I rang up my people, and I rose and got something to eat and drink for him, and so abroad, it being a mighty foul day, by coach, setting my father down in Fleet Street and I to St. James’s, where I found Mr. Coventry (the Duke being now come thither for the summer) with a goldsmith, sorting out his old plate to change for new; but, Lord! what a deal he hath! I stayed and had two or three hours discourse with him, talking about the disorders of our office, and I largely to tell him how things are carried by Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to my great grief. He seems much concerned also, and for all the King’s matters that are done after the same rate everywhere else, and even the Duke’s household matters too, generally with corruption, but most indeed with neglect and indifferency. I spoke very loud and clear to him my thoughts of Sir J. Minnes and the other, and trust him with the using of them. Then to talk of our business with the Dutch; he tells me fully that he believes it will not come to a war; for first, he showed me a letter from Sir George Downing, his own hand, where he assures him that the Dutch themselves do not desire, but above all things fear it, and that they neither have given letters of marque against our ships in Guinea, nor do De Ruyter2134 stay at home with his fleet with an eye to any such thing, but for want of a wind, and is now come out and is going to the Streights. He tells me also that the most he expects is that upon the merchants’ complaints, the Parliament will represent them to the King, desiring his securing of his subjects against them, and though perhaps they may not directly see fit, yet even this will be enough to let the Dutch know that the Parliament do not oppose the King, and by that means take away their hopes, which was that the King of England could not get money or do anything towards a war with them, and so thought themselves free from making any restitution, which by this they will be deceived in. He tells me also that the Dutch states are in no good condition themselves, differing one with another, and that for certain none but the states of Holland and Zealand will contribute towards a war, the others reckoning themselves, being inland, not concerned in the profits of war or peace. But it is pretty to see what he says, that those here that are forward for a war at Court, they are reported in the world to be only designers of getting money into the King’s hands, they that elsewhere are for it have a design to trouble the kingdom and to give the Fanatics an opportunity of doing hurt, and lastly those that are against it (as he himself for one is very cold therein) are said to be bribed by the Dutch. After all this discourse he carried me in his coach, it raining still, to Charing Cross, and there put me into another, and I calling my father and brother carried them to my house to dinner, my wife keeping bed all day. … All the afternoon at the office with W. Boddam2135 looking over his particulars about the Chest of Chatham, which shows enough what a knave Commissioner Pett hath been all along, and how Sir W. Batten hath gone on in getting good allowance to himself and others out of the poors’ money. Time will show all. So in the evening to see Sir W. Penn, and then home to my father to keep him company, he being to go out of town, and up late with him and my brother John till past 12 at night to make up papers of Tom’s accounts fit to leave with my cousin Scott. At last we did make an end of them, and so after supper all to bed.
. Up betimes, and after my father’s eating something, I walked out with him as far as Milk Street, he turning down to Cripplegate to take coach; and at the end of the street I took leave, being much afeard I shall not see him here any more, he do decay so much every day, and so I walked on, there being never a coach to be had till I came to Charing Cross, and there Col. Froud took me up and carried me to St. James’s, where with Mr. Coventry and Povy, etc., about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, but, Lord! to see still what a puppy that Povy is with all his show is very strange. Thence to Whitehall and W. C[oventry] and I and Sir W. Rider resolved upon a day to meet and make an end of all the business. Thence walked with Creed to the Coffeehouse in Covent Garden, where no company, but he told me many fine experiments at Gresham College,2136 and some demonstration that the heat and cold of the weather do rarify and condense the very body of glasse, as in a bolt head2137 with cold water in it put into hot water, shall first by rarifying the glasse make the water sink, and then when the heat comes to the water makes that rise again, and then put into cold water makes the water by condensing the glass to rise, and then when the cold comes to the water makes it sink, which is very pretty and true, he saw it tried. Thence by coach home, and dined above with my wife by her bedside, she keeping her bed. … So to the office, where a great conflict with Wood and Castle about their New England masts.2138 So in the evening my mind a little vexed, but yet without reason, for I shall prevail, I hope, for the King’s profit, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and all the morning with Captain Taylor at my house talking about things of the Navy, and among other things I showed him my letters to Mr. Coventry, wherein he acknowledges that nobody to this day did ever understand so much as I have done, and I believe him, for I perceive he did very much listen to every article as things new to him, and is contented to abide by my opinion therein in his great contest with us about his and Mr. Wood’s masts. At noon to the ’Change, where I met with Mr. Hill, the little merchant, with whom, I perceive, I shall contract a musical acquaintance; but I will make it as little troublesome as I can. Home and dined, and then with my wife by coach to the Duke’s house, and there saw The German Princess2139 acted, by the woman herself; but never was anything so well done in earnest, worse performed in jest upon the stage; and indeed the whole play, abating the drollery of him that acts her husband, is very simple, unless here and there a witty sprinkle or two. We met and sat by Dr. Clerke. Thence homewards, calling at Madam Turner’s, and thence set my wife down at my aunt Wight’s and I to my office till late, and then at 10 at night fetched her home, and so again to my office a little, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning upon the dispute of Mr. Wood’s masts, and at noon with Mr. Coventry to the African House; and after a good and pleasant dinner, up with him, Sir W. Rider, the simple Povy, of all the most ridiculous foole that ever I knew to attend to business, and Creed and Vernatty, about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts; but the more we look into them, the more we see of them that makes dispute, which made us break off, and so I home, and there found my wife and Besse gone over the water to Halfway house, and after them, thinking to have gone to Woolwich, but it was too late, so eat a cake and home, and thence by coach to have spoke with Tom Trice about a letter I met with this afternoon from my cousin Scott, wherein he seems to deny proceeding as my father’s attorney in administering for him in my brother Tom’s estate, but I find him gone out of town, and so returned vexed home and to the office, where late writing a letter to him, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and I put on my best cloth black suit and my velvet cloake, and with my wife in her best laced suit to church, where we have not been these nine or ten weeks. The truth is, my jealousy hath hindered it, for fear she should see Pembleton. He was here today, but I think sat so as he could not see her, which did please me, God help me! mightily, though I know well enough that in reason this is nothing but my ridiculous folly. Home to dinner, and in the afternoon, after long consulting whether to go to Woolwich or no to see Mr. Falconer, but indeed to prevent my wife going to church, I did however go to church with her, where a young simple fellow did preach: I slept soundly all the sermon, and thence to Sir W. Penn’s, my wife and I, there she talking with him and his daughter, and thence with my wife walked to my uncle Wight’s and there supped, where very merry, but I vexed to see what charges the vanity of my aunt puts her husband to among her friends and nothing at all among ours. Home and to bed. Our parson, Mr. Mills, his own mistake in reading of the service was very remarkable, that instead of saying, “We beseech thee to preserve to our use the kindly fruits of the earth,” he cries, “Preserve to our use our gracious Queen Katherine.”
. Up and by coach to Westminster, and there solicited W. Joyce’s business again; and did speake to the Duke of York about it, who did understand it very well. I afterwards did without the House fall in company with my Lady Peters, and endeavoured to mollify her; but she told me she would not, to redeem her from hell, do anything to release him; but would be revenged while she lived, if she lived the age of Methusalem. I made many friends, and so did others. At last it was ordered by the Lords that it should be referred to the Committee of Privileges to consider. So I, after discoursing with the Joyces, away by coach to the ’Change; and there, among other things, do hear that a Jew hath put in a policy of four percent to any man, to insure him against a Dutch war for four months; I could find in my heart to take him at this offer, but however will advise first, and to that end took coach to St. James’s, but Mr. Coventry was gone forth, and I thence to Westminster Hall, where Mrs. Lane was gone forth, and so I missed of my intent to be with her this afternoon, and therefore meeting Mr. Blagrave, went home with him, and there he and his kinswoman sang, but I was not pleased with it, they singing methought very ill, or else I am grown worse to please than heretofore. Thence to the Hall again, and after meeting with several persons, and talking there, I to Mrs. Hunt’s (where I knew my wife and my aunt Wight were about business), and they being gone to walk in the park I went after them with Mrs. Hunt, who stayed at home for me, and finding them did by coach, which I had agreed to wait for me, go with them all and Mrs. Hunt and a kinswoman of theirs, Mrs. Steward, to Hide Park, where I have not been since last year; where I saw the King with his periwig, but not altered at all; and my Lady Castlemayne in a coach by herself, in yellow satin and a pinner on; and many brave persons. And myself being in a hackney and full of people, was ashamed to be seen by the world, many of them knowing me. Thence in the evening home, setting my aunt at home, and thence we sent for a joint of meat to supper, and thence to the office at 11 o’clock at night, and so home to bed.
. Up and to St. James’s, where long with Mr. Coventry, Povy, etc., in their Tangier accounts, but such the folly of that coxcomb Povy that we could do little in it, and so parted for the time, and I to walk with Creed and Vernaty in the Physic Garden in St. James’s Park; where I first saw orange-trees,2140 and other fine trees. So to Westminster Hall, and thence by water to the Temple, and so walked to the ’Change, and there find the ’Change full of news from Guinea, some say the Dutch have sunk our ships and taken our fort, and others say we have done the same to them. But I find by our merchants that something is done, but is yet a secret among them. So home to dinner, and then to the office, and at night with Captain Tayler consulting how to get a little money by letting him the Elias2141 to fetch masts from New England. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by coach to Westminster, and there solicited W. Joyce’s business all the morning, and meeting in the Hall with Mr. Coventry, he told me how the Committee for Trade2142 have received now all the complaints of the merchants against the Dutch, and were resolved to report very highly the wrongs they have done us (when, God knows! it is only our own negligence and laziness that hath done us the wrong) and this to be made to the House tomorrow. I went also out of the Hall with Mrs. Lane to the Swan at Mrs. Herbert’s in the Palace Yard to try a couple of bands, and did (though I had a mind to be playing the fool with her) purposely stay but a little while, and kept the door open, and called the master and mistress of the house one after another to drink and talk with me, and showed them both my old and new bands. So that as I did nothing so they are able to bear witness that I had no opportunity there to do anything. Thence by coach with Sir W. Penn home, calling at the Temple for Lawes’s Psalms, which I did not so much (by being against my oath) buy as only lay down money till others be bound better for me, and by that time I hope to get money of the Treasurer of the Navy by bills, which, according to my oath, shall make me able to do it. At home dined, and all the afternoon at a Committee of the Chest, and at night comes my aunt and uncle Wight and Nan Ferrers and supped merrily with me, my uncle coming in an hour after them almost foxed. Great pleasure by discourse with them, and so, they gone, late to bed.
. Up pretty betimes and to my office, and thither came by and by Mr. Vernaty and stayed two hours with me, but Mr. Gauden did not come, and so he went away to meet again anon. Then comes Mr. Creed, and, after some discourse, he and I and my wife by coach to Westminster (leaving her at Unthanke’s, her tailor’s) Hall, and there at the Lords’ House heard that it is ordered, that, upon submission upon the knee both to the House and my Lady Peters, W. Joyce shall be released. I forthwith made him submit, and aske pardon upon his knees; which he did before several Lords. But my Lady would not hear it; but swore she would post the Lords, that the world might know what pitiful Lords the King hath; and that revenge was sweeter to her than milk; and that she would never be satisfied unless he stood in a pillory, and demand pardon there. But I perceive the Lords are ashamed of her, and so I away calling with my wife at a place or two to inquire after a couple of maids recommended to us, but we found both of them bad. So set my wife at my uncle Wight’s and I home, and presently to the ’Change, where I did some business, and thence to my uncle’s and there dined very well, and so to the office, we sat all the afternoon, but no sooner sat but news comes my Lady Sandwich was come to see us, so I went out, and running up (her friend however before me) I perceive by my dear Lady blushing that in my dining room she was doing something upon the pot, which I also was ashamed of, and so fell to some discourse, but without pleasure through very pity to my Lady. She tells me, and I find true since, that the House this day have voted that the King be desired to demand right for the wrong done us by the Dutch,2143 and that they will stand by him with their lives and fortunes: which is a very high vote, and more than I expected. What the issue will be, God knows! My Lady, my wife not being at home, did not stay, but, poor, good woman, went away, I being mightily taken with her dear visit, and so to the office, where all the afternoon till late, and so to my office, and then to supper and to bed, thinking to rise betimes tomorrow.
. Having directed it last night, I was called up this morning before four o’clock. It was full light enough to dress myself, and so by water against tide, it being a little coole, to Greenwich; and thence, only that it was somewhat foggy till the sun got to some height, walked with great pleasure to Woolwich, in my way staying several times to listen to the nightingales. I did much business both at the Ropeyarde and the other, and on floate I discovered a plain cheat which in time I shall publish of Mr. Ackworth’s. Thence, having visited Mr. Falconer2144 also, who lies still sick, but hopes to be better, I walked to Greenwich, Mr. Deane with me. Much good discourse, and I think him a very just man, only a little conceited, but yet very able in his way, and so he by water also with me also to town. I home, and immediately dressing myself, by coach with my wife to my Lord Sandwich’s, but they having dined we would not ’light but went to Mrs. Turner’s, and there got something to eat, and thence after reading part of a good play, Mrs. The., my wife and I, in their coach to Hide Park, where great plenty of gallants, and pleasant it was, only for the dust. Here I saw Mrs. Bendy, my Lady Spillman’s faire daughter that was, who continues yet very handsome. Many others I saw with great content, and so back again to Mrs. Turner’s, and then took a coach and home. I did also carry them into St. James’s Park and showed them the garden. To my office awhile while supper was making ready, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after doing something at my office, and, it being a holiday, no sitting likely to be, I down by water to Sir W. Warren’s, who hath been ill, and there talked long with him good discourse, especially about Sir W. Batten’s knavery and his son Castle’s ill language of me behind my back, saying that I favour my fellow traytours, but I shall be even with him. So home and to the ’Change, where I met with Mr. Coventry, who himself is now full of talk of a Dutch war; for it seems the Lords have concurred in the Commons’ vote about it; and so the next week it will be presented to the King, insomuch that he do desire we would look about to see what stores we lack, and buy what we can. Home to dinner, where I and my wife much troubled about my money that is in my Lord Sandwich’s hand, for fear of his going to sea and be killed; but I will get what of it out I can. All the afternoon, not being well, at my office, and there doing much business, my thoughts still running upon a war and my money. At night home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning in my chamber setting some of my private papers in order, for I perceive that now public business takes up so much of my time that I must get time a-Sundays or a-nights to look after my own matters. Dined and spent all the afternoon talking with my wife, at night a little to the office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn by coach to St. James’s and there up to the Duke, and after he was ready to his closet, where most of our talk about a Dutch war, and discoursing of things indeed now for it. The Duke, which gives me great good hopes, do talk of setting up a good discipline in the fleet. In the Duke’s chamber there is a bird, given him by Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, comes from the East Indies, black the greatest part, with the finest collar of white about the neck;2145 but talks many things and neighs like the horse, and other things, the best almost that ever I heard bird in my life. Thence down with Mr. Coventry and Sir W. Rider, who was there (going along with us from the East Indya house today) to discourse of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, and then walked over the Park, and in Mr. Cutler’s coach with him and Rider as far as the Strand, and thence I walked to my Lord Sandwich’s, where by agreement I met my wife, and there dined with the young ladies; my Lady, being not well, kept her chamber. Much simple discourse at table among the young ladies. After dinner walked in the garden, talking with Mr. Moore about my Lord’s business. He told me my Lord runs in debt every day more and more, and takes little care how to come out of it. He counted to me how my Lord pays use now for above £9,000, which is a sad thing, especially considering the probability of his going to sea, in great danger of his life, and his children, many of them, to provide for. Thence, the young ladies going out to visit, I took my wife by coach out through the city, discoursing how to spend the afternoon; and conquered, with much ado, a desire of going to a play; but took her out at White Chapel, and to Bednal Green; so to Hackney, where I have not been many a year, since a little child I boarded there. Thence to Kingsland, by my nurse’s house, Goody Lawrence, where my brother Tom and I was kept when young. Then to Newington Green, and saw the outside of Mrs. Herbert’s house, where she lived, and my Aunt Ellen with her; but, Lord! how in every point I find myself to overvalue things when a child. Thence to Islington, and so to St. John’s to the Red Bull,2146 and there saw the latter part of a rude prize fought, but with good pleasure enough; and thence back to Islington, and at the King’s Head, where Pitts lived, we ’light and eat and drunk for remembrance of the old house sake, and so through Kingsland again, and so to Bishopsgate, and so home with great pleasure. The country mighty pleasant, and we with great content home, and after supper to bed, only a little troubled at the young ladies leaving my wife so today, and from some passages fearing my Lady might be offended. But I hope the best.
. Up, and to my Lord Sandwich’s, and coming a little too early, I went and saw W. Joyce, and by and by comes in Anthony, they both owning a great deal of kindness received from me in their late business, and indeed I did what I could, and yet less I could not do. It has cost the poor man above £40; besides, he is likely to lose his debt. Thence to my Lord’s, and by and by he comes down, and with him (Creed with us) I rode in his coach to St. James’s, talking about W. Joyce’s business mighty merry, and my Lady Peters, he says, is a drunken jade, he himself having seen her drunk in the lobby of their House. I went up with him to the Duke, where methought the Duke did not show him any so great fondness as he was wont; and methought my Lord was not pleased that I should see the Duke made no more of him, not that I know anything of any unkindness, but I think verily he is not as he was with him in his esteem. By and by the Duke went out and we with him through the Park, and there I left him going into Whitehall, and Creed and I walked round the Park, a pleasant walk, observing the birds, which is very pleasant; and so walked to the New Exchange, and there had a most delicate dish of curds and creame, and discourse with the good woman of the house, a discreet well-bred woman, and a place with great delight I shall make it now and then to go thither. Thence up, and after a turn or two in the ’Change, home to the Old Exchange by coach, where great news and true, I saw by written letters, of strange fires seen at Amsterdam in the air, and not only there, but in other places thereabout. The talk of a Dutch war is not so hot, but yet I fear it will come to it at last. So home and to the office, where we sat late. My wife gone this afternoon to the buriall of my she-cousin Scott,2147 a good woman; and it is a sad consideration how the Pepys’s decay, and nobody almost that I know in a present way of increasing them. At night late at my office, and so home to my wife to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning very busy with multitude of clients, till my head began to be overloaded. Towards noon I took coach and to the Parliament house door, and there stayed the rising of the House, and with Sir G. Carteret and Mr. Coventry discoursed of some tar that I have been endeavouring to buy, for the market begins apace to rise upon us, and I would be glad first to serve the King well, and next if I could I find myself now begin to cast how to get a penny myself. Home by coach with Alderman Backewell in his coach, whose opinion is that the Dutch will not give over the business without putting us to some trouble to set out a fleet; and then, if they see we go on well, will seek to salve up the matter. Upon the ’Change busy. Thence home to dinner, and thence to the office till my head was ready to burst with business, and so with my wife by coach, I sent her to my Lady Sandwich and myself to my cousin Roger Pepys’s chamber, and there he did advise me about our Exchequer business, and also about my brother John, he is put by my father upon interceding for him, but I will not yet seem the least to pardon him nor can I in my heart. However, he and I did talk how to get him a mandamus for a fellowship, which I will endeavour. Thence to my Lady’s, and in my way met Mr. Sanchy, of Cambridge, whom I have not met a great while. He seems a simple fellow, and tells me their master, Dr. Rainbow,2148 is newly made Bishop of Carlisle. To my Lady’s, and she not being well did not see her, but straight home with my wife, and late to my office, concluding in the business of Wood’s masts, which I have now done and I believe taken more pains in it than ever any Principall officer in this world ever did in anything to no profit to this day. So, weary, sleepy, and hungry, home and to bed. This day the Houses attended the King, and delivered their votes to him upon the business of the Dutch; and he thanks them, and promises an answer in writing.
. Up and close at my office all the morning. To the ’Change busy at noon, and so home to dinner, and then in the afternoon at the office till night, and so late home quite tired with business, and without joy in myself otherwise than that I am by God’s grace enabled to go through it and one day, hope to have benefit by it. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and with Sir W. Rider and Cutler to Whitehall. Rider and I to St. James’s, and there with Mr. Coventry did proceed strictly upon some fooleries of Mr. Povy’s in my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, which will touch him home, and I am glad of it, for he is the most troublesome impertinent man that ever I met with. Thence to the ’Change, and there, after some business, home to dinner, where Luellin and Mount came to me and dined, and after dinner my wife and I by coach to see my Lady Sandwich, where we find all the children and my Lord removed, and the house so melancholy that I thought my Lady had been dead, knowing that she was not well; but it seems she hath the measles, and I fear the small pox, poor lady. It grieves me mightily; for it will be a sad houre to the family should she miscarry. Thence straight home and to the office, and in the evening comes Mr. Hill the merchant and another with him that sings well, and we sung some things, and good music it seemed to me, only my mind too full of business to have much pleasure in it. But I will have more of it. They gone, and I having paid Mr. Moxon2149 for the work he has done for the office upon the King’s globes, I to my office, where very late busy upon Captain Tayler’s bills for his masts, which I think will never off my hand. Home to supper and to bed.
. Up and all the morning at the office. At noon to the ’Change, where, after business done, Sir W. Rider and Cutler took me to the Old James and there did give me a good dish of mackerell, the first I have seen this year, very good, and good discourse. After dinner we fell to business about their contract for tar, in which and in another business of Sir W. Rider’s, canvas, wherein I got him to contract with me, I held them to some terms against their wills, to the King’s advantage, which I believe they will take notice of to my credit. Thence home, and by water by a gally down to Woolwich, and there a good while with Mr. Pett upon the new ship discoursing and learning of him. Thence with Mr. Deane to see Mr. Falconer, and there find him in a way to be well. So to the water (after much discourse with great content with Mr. Deane) and home late, and so to the office, wrote to my father among other things my continued displeasure against my brother John, so that I will give him nothing more out of my own purse, which will trouble the poor man, but however it is fit that I should take notice of my brother’s ill carriage to me. Then home and till 12 at night about my month’s accounts, wherein I have just kept within compass, this having been a spending month. So my people being all abed I put myself to bed very sleepy. All the news now is what will become of the Dutch business, whether war or peace. We all seem to desire it, as thinking ourselves to have advantages at present over them; for my part I dread it. The Parliament promises to assist the King with lives and fortunes, and he receives it with thanks and promises to demand satisfaction of the Dutch. My poor Lady Sandwich is fallen sick three days since of the measles. My Lord Digby’s business is hushed up, and nothing made of it; he is gone, and the discourse quite ended. Never more quiet in my family all the days of my life than now, there being only my wife and I and Besse and the little girl Susan, the best wenches to our content that we can ever expect.
May 1664
. Lay long in bed. Went not to church, but stayed at home to examine my last night’s accounts, which I find right, and that I am £908 creditor in the world, the same I was last month. Dined, and after dinner down by water with my wife and Besse with great pleasure as low as Greenwich and so back, playing as it were leisurely upon the water to Deptford, where I landed and sent my wife up higher to land below Halfway house. I to the King’s yard and there spoke about several businesses with the officers, and so with Mr. Wayth consulting about canvas, to Halfway house where my wife was, and after eating there we broke and walked home before quite dark. So to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Lay pretty long in bed. So up and by water to St. James’s, and there attended the Duke with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, and having done our work with him walked to Westminster Hall, and after walking there and talking of business met Mr. Rawlinson and by coach to the ’Change, where I did some business, and home to dinner, and presently by coach to the King’s Playhouse to see The Labyrinth,2150 but, coming too soon, walked to my Lord’s to hear how my Lady do, who is pretty well; at least past all fear. There by Captain Ferrers meeting with an opportunity of my Lord’s coach, to carry us to the Park anon, we directed it to come to the playhouse door; and so we walked, my wife and I and Mademoiselle. I paid for her going in, and there saw The Labyrinth, the poorest play, methinks, that ever I saw, there being nothing in it but the odd accidents that fell out, by a lady’s being bred up in man’s apparel, and a man in a woman’s. Here was Mrs. Stewart, who is indeed very pretty, but not like my Lady Castlemayne, for all that. Thence in the coach to the Park, where no pleasure; there being much dust, little company, and one of our horses almost spoiled by falling down, and getting his leg over the pole; but all mended presently, and after riding up and down, home. Set Mademoiselle at home; and we home, and to my office, whither comes Mr. Bland, and pays me the debt he acknowledged he owed me for my service in his business of the Tangier Merchant,2151 twenty pieces of new gold, a pleasant sight. It cheered my heart; and he being gone, I home to supper, and showed them my wife; and she, poor wretch, would fain have kept them to look on, without any other design but a simple love to them; but I thought it not convenient, and so took them into my own hand. So, after supper, to bed.
. Up, and being ready, went by agreement to Mr. Bland’s and there drank my morning draught in good chocolate, and slabbering my band sent home for another, and so he and I by water to Whitehall, and walked to St. James’s, where met Creed and Vernatty, and by and by Sir W. Rider, and so to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, and there upon my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, where I endeavoured to show the folly and punish it as much as I could of Mr. Povy; for, of all the men in the world, I never knew any man of his degree so great a coxcomb in such employments. I see I have lost him forever, but I value it not; for he is a coxcomb, and, I doubt, not over honest, by some things which I see; and yet, for all his folly, he hath the good lucke, now and then, to speak his follies in as good words, and with as good a show, as if it were reason, and to the purpose, which is really one of the wonders of my life. Thence walked to Westminster Hall; and there, in the Lords’ House, did in a great crowd, from ten o’clock till almost three, hear the cause of Mr. Roberts,2152 my Lord Privy Seal’s son, against Win, who by false ways did get the father of Mr. Roberts’s wife (Mr. Bodvill) to give him the estate and disinherit his daughter. The cause was managed for my Lord Privy Seal by Finch the Solicitor [General]; but I do really think that he is truly a man of as great eloquence as ever I heard, or ever hope to hear in all my life. Thence, after long staying to speak with my Lord Sandwich, at last he coming out to me and speaking with me about business of my Lord Peterborough, I by coach home to the office, where all the afternoon, only stepped home to eat one bit and to the office again, having eaten nothing before today. My wife abroad with my aunt Wight and Norbury. I in the evening to my uncle Wight’s, and not finding them come home, they being gone to the Park and the Mulberry garden, I went to the ’Change, and there meeting with Mr. Hempson,2153 whom Sir W. Batten has lately turned out of his place, merely because of his coming to me when he came to town before he went to him, and there he told me many rogueries of Sir W. Batten, how he knows and is able to prove that Captain Cox of Chatham did give him £10 in gold to get him to certify for him at the King’s coming in, and that Tom Newborne did make [the] poor men give him £3 to get Sir W. Batten to cause them to be entered in the yard, and that Sir W. Batten had oftentimes said: “by God, Tom, you shall get something and I will have some on’t.” His present clerk that is come in Norman’s2154 room has given him something for his place; that they live high and (as Sir Francis Clerk’s lady told his wife) do lack money as well as other people, and have bribes of a piece of sattin and cabinets and other things from people that deal with him, and that hardly anybody goes to see or hath anything done by Sir W. Batten but it comes with a bribe, and that this is publicly true that his wife was a whore, and that he had libels flung within his doors for a cuckold as soon as he was married; that he received £100 in money and in other things to the value of £50 more of Hempson, and that he intends to give him back but £50; that he hath abused the Chest and hath now some £1,000 by him of it. I met also upon the ’Change with Mr. Cutler, and he told me how for certain Lawson hath proclaimed war again with Argier, though they had at his first coming given back the ships which they had taken, and all their men; though they refused afterwards to make him restitution for the goods which they had taken out of them. Thence to my uncle Wight’s, and he not being at home I went with Mr. Norbury near hand to the Fleece, a mum house2155 in Leadenhall, and there drunk mum and by and by broke up, it being about 11 o’clock at night, and so leaving them also at home, went home myself and to bed.
. Up, and my new Taylor, Langford, comes and takes measure of me for a new black cloth suit and cloake, and I think he will prove a very careful fellow and will please me well. Thence to attend my Lord Peterborough in bed and give him an account of yesterday’s proceeding with Povy. I perceive I labour in a business will bring me little pleasure; but no matter, I shall do the King some service. To my Lord’s lodgings, where during my Lady’s sickness he is, there spoke with him about the same business. Back and by water to my cousin Scott’s. There condoled with him the loss of my cousin, his wife, and talked about his matters, as attorney to my father, in his administering to my brother Tom. He tells me we are like to receive some shame about the business of his bastarde with Jack Noble; but no matter, so it cost us no money. Thence to the Coffeehouse and to the ’Change a while. News uncertain how the Dutch proceed. Some say for, some against a war. The plague increases at Amsterdam. So home to dinner, and after dinner to my office, where very late, till my eyes (which begin to fail me nowadays by candlelight) begin to trouble me. Only in the afternoon comes Mr. Peter Honiwood to see me and gives me 20s., his and his friends’ pence for my brother John, which, God forgive my pride, methinks I think myself too high to take of him; but it is an ungrateful pitch of pride in me, which God forgive. Home at night to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes to my office, busy, and so abroad to change some plate for my father to send today by the carrier to Brampton, but I observe and do fear it may be to my wrong that I change spoons of my uncle Robert’s into new and set a P upon them that thereby I cannot claim them hereafter, as it was my brother Tom’s practice. However, the matter of this is not great, and so I did it. So to the ’Change, and meeting Sir W. Warren, with him to a tavern, and there talked, as we used to do, of the evils the King suffers in our ordering of business in the Navy, as Sir W. Batten now forces us by his knavery. So home to dinner, and to the office, where all the afternoon, and thence betimes home, my eyes beginning every day to grow less and less able to bear with long reading or writing, though it be by daylight; which I never observed till now. So home to my wife, and after supper to bed.
. This morning up and to my office, where Sympson my joiner came to work upon altering my closet, which I alter by setting the door in another place, and several other things to my great content. Busy at it all day, only in the afternoon home, and there, my books at the office being out of order, wrote letters and other businesses. So at night with my head full of the business of my closet home to bed, and strange it is to think how building do fill my mind and put out all other things out of my thoughts.
. Betimes at my office with the joiners, and giving order for other things about it. By and by we sat all the morning. At noon to dinner, and after dinner comes Deane of Woolwich, and I spent, as I had appointed, all the afternoon with him about instructions which he gives me to understand the building of a ship, and I think I shall soon understand it. In the evening a little to my office to see how the work goes forward there, and then home and spent the evening also with Mr. Deane, and had a good supper, and then to bed, he lying at my house.
. This day my new tailor, Mr. Langford, brought me home a new black cloth suit and cloake lined with silk moire, and he being gone, who pleases me very well with his work and I hope will use me pretty well, then Deane and I to my chamber, and there we repeated my yesterday’s lesson about ships all the morning, and I hope I shall soon understand it. At noon to dinner, and strange how in discourse he cries up chymistry from some talk he has had with an acquaintance of his, a chymist, when, poor man, he understands not one word of it. But I discern very well that it is only his good nature, but in this of building ships he hath taken great pains, more than most builders I believe have. After dinner he went away, and my wife and I to church, and after church to Sir W. Penn, and there sat and talked with him, and the perfidious rogue seems, as he do always, mightily civil to us, though I know he hates and envies us. So home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up and to my office all the morning, and there saw several things done in my work to my great content, and at noon home to dinner, and after dinner in Sir W. Penn’s coach he set my wife and I down at the New Exchange, and after buying some things we walked to my Lady Sandwich’s, who, good lady, is now, thanks be to God! so well as to sit up, and sent to us, if we were not afeard, to come up to her. So we did; but she was mightily against my wife’s coming so near her; though, poor wretch! she is as well as ever she was, as to the measles, and nothing can I see upon her face. There we sat talking with her above three hours, till six o’clock, of several things with great pleasure and so away, and home by coach, buying several things for my wife in our way, and so after looking what had been done in my office today, with good content home to supper and to bed. But, strange, how I cannot get anything to take place in my mind while my work lasts at my office. This day my wife and I in our way to Paternoster Row to buy things called upon Mr. Hollyard to advise upon her drying up her issue in her leg, which inclines of itself to dry up, and he admits of it that it should be dried up.
. Up and at my office looking after my workmen all the morning, and after the office was done did the same at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and all day, both forenoon and afternoon, at my office to see it finished by the joiners and washed and everything in order, and indeed now my closet is very convenient and pleasant for me. My uncle Wight came to me to my office this afternoon to speak with me about Mr. Maes’s business again, and from me went to my house to see my wife, and strange to think that my wife should by and by send for me after he was gone to tell me that he should begin discourse of her want of children and his also, and how he thought it would be best for him and her to have one between them, and he would give her £500 either in money or jewels beforehand, and make the child his heir. He commended her body, and discoursed that for all he knew the thing was lawful. She says she did give him a very warm answer, such as he did not excuse himself by saying that he said this in jest, but told her that since he saw what her mind was he would say no more to her of it, and desired her to make no words of it. It seemed he did say all this in a kind of counterfeit laugh, but by all words that passed, which I cannot now so well set down, it is plain to me that he was in good earnest, and that I fear all his kindness is but only his lust to her. What to think of it of a sudden I know not, but I think not to take notice yet of it to him till I have thought better of it. So with my mind and head a little troubled I received a letter from Mr. Coventry about a mast for the Duke’s yacht,2156 which with other business makes me resolve to go betimes to Woolwich tomorrow. So to supper and to bed.
. Up by 4 o’clock and by water to Woolwich, where did some business and walked to Greenwich, good discourse with Mr. Deane best part of the way; there met by appointment Commissioner Pett, and with him to Deptford, where did also some business, and so home to my office, and at noon Mrs. Hunt and her cousin’s child and maid came and dined with me. My wife sick … in bed. I was troubled with it, but, however, could not help it, but attended them till after dinner, and then to the office and there sat all the afternoon, and by a letter to me this afternoon from Mr. Coventry I saw the first appearance of a war with Holland. So home; and betimes to bed because of rising tomorrow.
. Up before three o’clock, and a little after upon the water, it being very light as at noon, and a bright sunrising; but by and by a rainbow appeared, the first that ever in a morning I saw, and then it fell a-raining a little, but held up again, and I to Woolwich, where before all the men came to work I with Mr. Deane spent two hours upon the new ship, informing myself in the names and natures of many parts of her to my great content, and so back again, without doing anything else, and after shifting myself away to Westminster, looking after Mr. Maes’s business and others. In the Painted Chamber I heard a fine conference between some of the two Houses upon the Bill for Conventicles. The Lords would be freed from having their houses searched by any but the Lord Lieutenant of the County; and upon being found guilty, to be tried only by their peers; and thirdly, would have it added, that whereas the Bill says, “That that, among other things, shall be a conventicle wherein any such meeting is found doing anything contrary to the Liturgy of the Church of England,” they would have it added, “or practice.” The Commons to the Lords said, that they knew not what might hereafter be found out which might be called the practice of the Church of England; for there are many things may be said to be the practice of the Church, which were never established by any law, either common, statute, or canon; as singing of psalms, binding up prayers at the end of the Bible, and praying extempore before and after sermon: and though these are things indifferent, yet things for aught they at present know may be started, which may be said to be the practice of the Church which would not be fit to allow. For the Lords’ priviledges, Mr. Walter told them how tender their predecessors had been of the priviledges of the Lords; but, however, where the peace of the kingdom stands in competition with them, they apprehend those priviledges must give place. He told them that he thought, if they should own all to be the priviledges of the Lords which might be demanded, they should be led like the man (who granted leave to his neighbour to pull off his horse’s tail, meaning that he could not do it at once) that hair by hair had his horse’s tail pulled off indeed: so the Commons, by granting one thing after another, might be so served by the Lords. Mr. Vaughan,2157 whom I could not to my grief perfectly hear, did say, if that they should be obliged in this manner to exempt the Lords from everything, it would in time come to pass that whatever (be [it] never so great) should be voted by the Commons as a thing penall for a commoner, the contrary should be thought a priviledge to the Lords: that also in this business, the work of a conventicle being but the work of an hour, the cause of a search would be over before a Lord Lieutenant, who may be many miles off, can be sent for; and that all this dispute is but about £100; for it is said in the Act, that it shall be banishment or payment of £100. I thereupon heard the Duke of Lenox say, that there might be Lords who could not always be ready to lose £100, or some such thing. They broke up without coming to any end in it. There was also in the Commons’ House a great quarrel about Mr. Prin,2158 and it was believed that he should have been sent to the Tower, for adding something to a Bill (after it was ordered to be engrossed) of his own head—a Bill for measures for wine and other things of that sort, and a Bill of his own bringing in; but it appeared he could not mean any hurt in it. But, however, the King was fain to write in his behalf, and all was passed over. But it is worth my remembrance, that I saw old Ryly the Herald,2159 and his son; and spoke to his son, who told me in very bad words concerning Mr. Prin, that the King had given him an office of keeping the Records; but that he never comes thither, nor had been there these six months: so that I perceive they expect to get his employment from him. Thus everybody is liable to be envied and supplanted. At noon over to the Leg, where Sir G. Ascue, Sir Robt. Parkhurst and Sir W. Penn dined. A good dinner and merry. Thence to Whitehall walking up and down a great while, but the Council not meeting soon enough I went homeward, calling upon my cousin Roger Pepys, with whom I talked and heard so much from him of his desire that I would see my brother’s debts paid, and things still of that nature tending to my parting with what I get with pain to serve others’ expenses that I was cruelly vexed. Thence to Sir R. Bernard, and there heard something of Pigott’s delay of paying our money, that that also vexed me mightily. So home and there met with a letter from my cousin Scott, which tells me that he is resolved to meddle no more with our business, of administering for my father, which altogether makes me almost distracted to think of the trouble that I am like to meet with by other folks’ business more than ever I hope to have by my own. So with great trouble of mind to bed.
. Up, full of pain, I believe by cold got yesterday. So to the office, where we sat, and after office home to dinner, being in extraordinary pain. After dinner my pain increasing I was forced to go to bed, and by and by my pain rose to be as great for an hour or two as ever I remember it was in any fit of the stone, both in the lower part of my belly and in my back also. No wind could I break. I took a glyster, but it brought away but a little, and my height of pain followed it. At last after two hours lying thus in most extraordinary anguish, crying and roaring, I know not what, whether it was my great sweating that may do it, but upon getting by chance, among my other tumblings, upon my knees, in bed, my pain began to grow less and less, till in an hour after I was in very little pain, but could break no wind, nor make any water, and so continued, and slept well all night.
. Rose, and as I had intended without reference to this pain, took physic, and it wrought well with me, my wife lying from me tonight, the first time she did in the same house ever since we were married, I think (unless while my father was in town, that he lay with me). She took physic also today, and both of our physics wrought well, so we passed our time today, our physic having done working, with some pleasure talking, but I was not well, for I could make no water yet, but a drop or two with great pain, nor break any wind. In the evening came Mr. Vernatty to see me and discourse about my Lord Peterborough’s business, and also my uncle Wight and Norbury, but I took no notice nor showed any different countenance to my uncle Wight, or he to me, for all that he carried himself so basely to my wife the last week, but will take time to make my use of it. So, being exceeding hot, to bed, and slept well.
. Forced to rise because of going to the Duke to St. James’s, where we did our usual business, and thence by invitation to Mr. Pierce’s the chirurgeon, where I saw his wife, whom I had not seen in many months before. She holds her complexion still, but in everything else, even in this her new house and the best rooms in it, and her closet which her husband with some vainglory took me to show me, she continues the veriest slattern that ever I knew in my life. By and by we to see an experiment of killing a dog by letting opium into his hind leg.2160 He and Dr. Clerke did fail mightily in hitting the vein, and in effect did not do the business after many trials; but with the little they got in, the dog did presently fall asleep, and so lay till we cut him up, and a little dog also, which they put it down his throate; he also staggered first, and then fell asleep, and so continued. Whether he recovered or no, after I was gone, I know not, but it is a strange and sudden effect. Thence walked to Westminster Hall, where the King was expected to come to prorogue the House, but it seems, afterwards I hear, he did not come. I promised to go again to Mr. Pierce’s, but my pain grew so great, besides a bruise I got today in my right testicle, which now vexes me as much as the other, that I was mighty melancholy, and so by coach home and there took another glyster, but find little good by it, but by sitting still my pain of my bruise went away, and so after supper to bed, my wife and I having talked and concluded upon sending my father an offer of having Pall come to us to be with us for her preferment, if by any means I can get her a husband here,2161 which, though it be some trouble to us, yet it will be better than to have her stay there till nobody will have her and then be flung upon my hands.
. Slept well all night and lay long, then rose and wrote my letter to my father about Pall, as we had resolved last night. So to dinner and then to the office, finding myself better than I was, and making a little water, but not yet breaking any great store of wind, which I wonder at, for I cannot be well till I do do it. After office home and to supper and with good ease to bed, and endeavoured to tie my hands that I might not lay them out of bed, by which I believe I have got cold, but I could not endure it.
. Up and within all the morning, being willing to keep as much as I could within doors, but receiving a very wakening letter from Mr. Coventry about fitting of ships, which speaks something like to be done, I went forth to the office, there to take order in things, and after dinner to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, but did little. So home again and to Sir W. Penn, who, among other things of haste in this new order for ships, is ordered to be gone presently to Portsmouth to look after the work there. I stayed to discourse with him, and so home to supper, where upon a fine couple of pigeons, a good supper; and here I met a pretty cabinet sent me by Mr. Shales,2162 which I give my wife, the first of that sort of goods I ever had yet, and very conveniently it comes for her closet. I stayed up late finding out the private boxes, but could not do some of them, and so to bed, afraid that I have been too bold today in venturing in the cold. This day I begun to drink butter-milke and whey, and I hope to find great good by it.
. Up, and it being very rayny weather, which makes it cooler than it was, by coach to Charing Cross with Sir W. Penn, who is going to Portsmouth this day, and left him going to St. James’s to take leave of the Duke, and I to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier; where God forgive how our Report of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts was read over and agreed to by the Lords, without one of them understanding it! And had it been what it would, it had gone: and, besides, not one thing touching the King’s profit in it minded or hit upon. Thence by coach home again, and all the morning at the office, sat, and all the afternoon till 9 at night, being fallen again to business, and I hope my health will give me leave to follow it. So home to supper and to bed, finding myself pretty well. A pretty good stool, which I impute to my whey today, and broke wind also.
. Up and to my office, whither by and by comes Mr. Cholmely, and staying till the rest of the company come he told me how Mr. Edward Montagu is turned out of the Court, not [to] return again. His fault, I perceive, was his pride, and most of all his affecting to seem great with the Queen:2163 and it seems indeed had more of her ear than anybody else, and would be with her talking alone two or three hours together; insomuch that the Lords about the King, when he would be jesting with them about their wives, would tell the King that he must have a care of his wife too, for she hath now the gallant: and they say the King himself did once ask Montagu how his mistress (meaning the Queen) did. He grew so proud, and despised everybody, besides suffering nobody, he or she, to get or do anything about the Queen, that they all laboured to do him a good turn. They also say that he did give some affront to the Duke of Monmouth, which the King himself did speak to him of. But strange it is that this man should, from the greatest negligence in the world, come to be the miracle of attendance, so as to take all offices from everybody, either men or women, about the Queen. Insomuch that he was observed as a miracle, but that which is the worst, that which in a wise manner performed [would] turn to his greatest advantage, was by being so observed employed to his greatest wrong, the world concluding that there must be something more than ordinary to cause him to do this. So he is gone, nobody pitying but laughing at him; and he pretends only that he is gone to his father, that is sick in the country. By and by comes Povy, Creed, and Vernatty, and so to their accounts, wherein more trouble and vexation with Povy. That being done, I sent them going and myself fell to business till dinner. So home to dinner very pleasant. In the afternoon to my office, where busy again, and by and by came a letter from my father so full of trouble for discontents there between my mother and servants, and such troubles to my father from hence from Cave that hath my brother’s bastard that I know not what in the world to do, but with great trouble, it growing night, spent some time walking, and putting care as much as I could out of my head, with my wife in the garden, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, called by Mr. Cholmely, and walked with him in the garden till others came to another Committee of Tangier, as we did meet as we did use to do, to see more of Povy’s folly, and so broke up, and at the office sat all the morning, Mr. Coventry with us, and very hot we are getting out some ships. At noon to the ’Change, and there did some business, and thence home to dinner, and so abroad with my wife by coach to the New Exchange, and there laid out almost 40s. upon her, and so called to see my Lady Sandwich, whom we found in her dining room, which joyed us mightily; but she looks very thin, poor woman, being mightily broke. She told us that Mr. Montagu is to return to Court, as she hears, which I wonder at, and do hardly believe. So home and to my office, where late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by water to Whitehall to my Lord’s lodgings, and with him walked to Whitehall without any great discourse, nor do I find that he do mind business at all. Here the Duke of York called me to him, to ask me whether I did intend to go with him to Chatham or no. I told him if he commanded, but I did believe there would be business here for me, and so he told me then it would be better to stay, which I suppose he will take better than if I had been forward to go. Thence, after staying and seeing the throng of people to attend the King to Chapel (but, Lord! what a company of sad, idle people they are) I walked to St. James’s with Colonel Remes,2164 where stayed a good while and then walked to Whitehall with Mr. Coventry, talking about business. So meeting Creed, took him with me home and to dinner, a good dinner, and thence by water to Woolwich, where mighty kindly received by Mrs. Falconer and her husband, who is now pretty well again, this being the first time I ever carried my wife thither. I walked to the Docke, where I met Mrs. Ackworth alone at home, and God forgive me! what thoughts I had, but I had not the courage to stay, but went to Mr. Pett’s and walked up and down the yard with him and Deane talking about the dispatch of the ships now in haste, and by and by Creed and my wife and a friend of Mr. Falconer’s came with the boat and called me, and so by water to Deptford, where I landed, and after talking with others walked to Halfway house with Mr. Wayth talking about the business of his supplying us with canvas, and he told me in discourse several instances of Sir W. Batten’s cheats. So to Halfway house, whither my wife and them were gone before, and after drinking there we walked, and by water home, sending Creed and the other with the boat home. Then wrote a letter to Mr. Coventry, and so a good supper of peas, the first I eat this year, and so to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and myself met and did business, we being in a mighty hurry. The King is gone down with the Duke and a great crew this morning by break of day to Chatham. Towards noon I and my wife by water to Woolwich, leaving my wife at Mr. Falconer’s, and Mr. Hater and I with some officers of the yard on board to see several ships how ready they are. Then to Mr. Falconer’s to a good dinner, having myself carried them a vessel of sturgeon and a Lamprey pie, and then to the Yarde again, and among other things did at Mr. Ackworth’s obtain a demonstration of his being a knave; but I did not discover it, till it be a little more seasonable. So back to the Ropeyard and took my wife and Mr. Hater back, it raining mighty hard of a sudden, but we with the tilt2165 kept ourselves dry. So to Deptford, did some business there; but, Lord! to see how in both places the King’s business, if ever it should come to a war, is likely to be done, there not being a man that looks or speaks like a man that will take pains, or use any forecast to serve the King, at which I am heartily troubled. So home, it raining terribly, but we still dry, and at the office late discoursing with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, who like a couple of sots receive all I say but to little purpose. So late home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Sir J. Minnes and I sat all the morning, and after dinner thither again, and all the afternoon hard at the office till night, and so tired home to supper and to bed. This day I heard that my uncle Fenner is dead, which makes me a little sad, to see with what speed a great many of my friends are gone, and more, I fear, for my father’s sake, are going.
. Took physic betimes and to sleep, then up, it working all the morning. At noon dined, and in the afternoon in my chamber spending two or three hours to look over some unpleasant letters and things of trouble to answer my father in, about Tom’s business and others, that vexed me, but I did go through it and by that means eased my mind very much. This afternoon also came Tom and Charles Pepys2166 by my sending for, and received of me £40 in part towards their £70 legacy of my uncle’s. Spent the evening talking with my wife, and so to bed.
. Up to the office, where we sat, and I had some high words with Sir W. Batten about canvas, wherein I opposed him and all his experience, about seams in the middle, and the profit of having many breadths and narrow, which I opposed to good purpose, to the rejecting of the whole business. At noon home to dinner, and thence took my wife by coach, and she to my Lady Sandwich to see her. I to Tom Trice, to discourse about my father’s giving over his administration to my brother, and thence to Sir R. Bernard, and there received £19 in money, and took up my father’s bond of £21, that is £40, in part of Piggot’s £209 due to us, which £40 he pays for 7 roods of meadow in Portholme. Thence to my wife, and carried her to the Old Bailey, and there we were led to the Quest House,2167 by the church, where all the kindred were by themselves at the buriall of my uncle Fenner; but, Lord! what a pitiful rout of people there was of them, but very good service and great company the whole was. And so anon to church, and a good sermon, and so home, having for ease put my £19 into W. Joyce’s hand, where I left it. So to supper and to bed, being in a little pain from some cold got last night lying without anything upon my feet.
. Up, not without some pain by cold, which makes me mighty melancholy, to think of the ill state of my health. To the office, where busy till my brains ready to drop with variety of business, and vexed for all that to see the service like to suffer by other people’s neglect. Vexed also at a letter from my father with two troublesome ones enclosed from Cave and Noble, so that I know not what to do therein. At home to dinner at noon. But to comfort my heart, Captain Taylor this day brought me £20 he promised me for my assistance to him about his masts. After dinner to the office again, and thence with Mr. Wayth to St. Catherine’s to see some variety of canvas’s, which indeed was worth my seeing, but only I was in some pain, and so took not the delight I should otherwise have done. So home to the office, and there busy till late at night, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning my tailor brought me a very tall maid to be my cook-maid; she asked £5, but my wife offered her but £3 10s.—whether she will take it or no I know not till tomorrow, but I am afeard she will be over high for us, she having last been a chamber maid, and holds up her head, as my little girl Su observed.
. Up pretty well as to pain and wind, and to the office, where we sat close and did much business. At noon I to the ’Change, and thence to Mr. Cutler’s, where I heard Sir W. Rider was, where I found them at dinner and dined with them, he having yesterday and today a fit of a pain like the gout, the first time he ever had it. A good dinner. Good discourse, Sir W. Rider especially much fearing the issue of a Dutch war, wherein I very highly commend him. Thence home, and at the office a while, and then with Mr. Deane to a second lesson upon my Shipwrightry, wherein I go on with great pleasure. He being gone I to the office late, and so home to supper and to bed. But, Lord! to see how my very going to the ’Change, and being without my gown, presently brought me wind and pain, till I came home and was well again; but I am come to such a pass that I shall not know what to do with myself, but I am apt to think that it is only my legs that I take cold in from my having so long worn a gown constantly.
. King’s Birth and Restauration day). Up, and having received a letter last night desiring it from Mr. Coventry, I walked to St. James’s, and there he and I did long discourse together of the business of the office, and the war with the Dutch; and he seemed to argue mightily with the little reason that there is for all this. For first, as to the wrong we pretend they have done us: that of the East Indies, for their not delivering of Poleron,2168 it is not yet known whether they have failed or no; that of their hindering the Leopard cannot amount to above £3,000 if true; that of the Guinea Company, all they had done us did not amount to above £200 or £300 he told me truly; and that now, from what Holmes, without any commission, hath done in taking an island and two forts, hath set us much in debt to them; and he believes that Holmes will have been so puffed up with this, that he by this time hath been enforced with more strength than he had then, hath, I say, done a great deal more wrong to them. He do, as to the effect of the war, tell me clearly that it is not any skill of the Dutch that can hinder our trade if we will, we having so many advantages over them, of winds, good ports, and men; but it is our pride, and the laziness of the merchant. He seems to think that there may be some negotiation which may hinder a war this year, but that he speaks doubtfully as unwilling I perceive to be thought to discourse any such thing. The main thing he desired to speake with me about was, to know whether I do understand my Lord Sandwich’s intentions as to going to sea with this fleet; saying, that the Duke, if he desires it, is most willing to it; but thinking that twelve ships is not a fleet fit for my Lord to be troubled to go out with, he is not willing to offer it to him till he hath some intimations of his mind to go, or not. He spoke this with very great respect as to my Lord, though methinks it is strange they should not understand one another better at this time than to need another’s mediation. Thence walked over the Park to Whitehall, Mr. Povy with me, and was taken in a very great shower in the middle of the Park that we were very wet. So up into the house and with him to the King’s closet, whither by and by the King came, my Lord Sandwich carrying the sword. A Bishop preached, but he speaking too low for me to hear behind the King’s closet, I went forth and walked and discoursed with Colonel Reames, who seems a very willing man to be informed in his business of canvas, which he is undertaking to strike in with us to serve the Navy. By and by my Lord Sandwich came forth, and called me to him: and we fell into discourse a great while about his business, wherein he seems to be very open with me, and to receive my opinion as he used to do; and I hope I shall become necessary to him again. He desired me to think of the fitness, or not, for him to offer himself to go to sea; and to give him my thoughts in a day or two. Thence after sermon among the ladies on the Queen’s side; where I saw Mrs. Stewart, very fine and pretty, but far beneath my Lady Castlemayne. Thence with Mr. Povy2169 home to dinner; where extraordinary cheer. And after dinner up and down to see his house. And in a word, methinks, for his perspective upon his wall in his garden, and the springs rising up with the perspective in the little closet; his room floored above with woods of several colours, like but above the best cabinetwork I ever saw; his grotto and vault, with his bottles of wine, and a well therein to keep them cool; his furniture of all sorts; his bath at the top of his house, good pictures, and his manner of eating and drinking; do surpass all that ever I did see of one man in all my life. Thence walked home and found my uncle Wight and Mr. Rawlinson, who supped with me. They being gone, I to bed, being in some pain from my being so much abroad today, which is a most strange thing that in such warm weather the least air should get cold and wind in me. I confess it makes me mighty sad and out of all content in the world.
. Lay long, the bells ringing, it being holiday, and then up and all the day long in my study at home studying of shipmaking with great content till the evening, and then came Mr. Howe and sat and then supped with me. He is a little conceited, but will make a discreet man. He being gone, a little to my office, and then home to bed, being in much pain from yesterday’s being abroad, which is a consideration of mighty sorrow to me.
. Up, and called upon Mr. Hollyard, with whom I advised and shall fall upon some course of doing something for my disease of the wind, which grows upon me every day more and more. Thence to my Lord Sandwich’s, and while he was dressing I below discoursed with Captain Cooke, and I think if I do find it fit to keep a boy at all I had as good be supplied from him with one as anybody. By and by up to my Lord, and to discourse about his going to sea, and the message I had from Mr. Coventry to him. He wonders, as he well may, that this course should be taken, and he every day with the Duke, who, nevertheless, seems most friendly to him, who hath not yet spoke one word to my Lord of his desire to have him go to sea. My Lord do tell me clearly that were it not that he, as all other men that were of the Parliament side, are obnoxious to reproach, and so is forced to bear what otherwise he would not, he would never suffer everything to be done in the Navy, and he never be consulted; and it seems, in the naming of all these commanders for this fleet, he hath never been asked one question. But we concluded it wholly inconsistent with his honour not to go with this fleet, nor with the reputation which the world hath of his interest at Court; and so he did give me commission to tell Mr. Coventry that he is most willing to receive any commands from the Duke in this fleet, were it less than it is, and that particularly in this service. With this message I parted, and by coach to the office, where I found Mr. Coventry, and told him this. Methinks, I confess, he did not seem so pleased with it as I expected, or at least could have wished, and asked me whether I had told my Lord that the Duke do not expect his going, which I told him I had. But now whether he means really that the Duke, as he told me the other day, do think the Fleet too small for him to take or that he would not have him go, I swear I cannot tell. But methinks other ways might have been used to put him by without going in this manner about it, and so I hope it is out of kindness indeed. Dined at home, and so to the office, where a great while alone in my office, nobody near, with Bagwell’s wife of Deptford, but the woman seems so modest that I durst not offer any courtship to her, though I had it in my mind when I brought her in to me. But I am resolved to do her husband a courtesy, for I think he is a man that deserves very well. So abroad with my wife by coach to St. James’s, to one Lady Poultny’s,2170 where I found my Lord, I doubt, at some vain pleasure or other. I did give him a short account of what I had done with Mr. Coventry, and so left him, and to my wife again in the coach, and with her to the Park, but the Queen being gone by the Park to Kensington, we stayed not but straight home and to supper (the first time I have done so this summer), and so to my office doing business, and then to my monthly accounts, where to my great comfort I find myself better than I was still the last month, and now come to £930. I was told today, that upon Sunday night last, being the King’s birthday, the King was at my Lady Castlemayne’s lodgings (over the hither-gate2171 at Lambert’s lodgings) dancing with fiddlers all night almost; and all the world coming by taking notice of it, which I am sorry to hear. The discourse of the town is only whether a war with Holland or no, and we are preparing for it all we can, which is but little. Myself subject more than ordinary to pain by winde, which makes me very sad, together with the trouble which at present lies upon me in my father’s behalf, rising from the death of my brother, which are many and great. Would to God they were over!
June 1664
. Up, having lain long, going to bed very late after the ending of my accounts. Being up Mr. Hollyard came to me, and to my great sorrow, after his great assuring me that I could not possibly have the stone again, he tells me that he do verily fear that I have it again, and has brought me something to dissolve it, which do make me very much troubled, and pray to God to ease me. He gone, I down by water to Woolwich and Deptford to look after the dispatch of the ships, all the way reading Mr. Spencer’s Book of Prodigies,2172 which is most ingeniously writ, both for matter and style. Home at noon, and my little girl got me my dinner, and I presently out by water and landed at Somerset stairs, and thence through Covent Garden, where I met with Mr. Southwell2173 (Sir W. Penn’s friend), who tells me the very sad news of my Lord Tiviott’s and nineteen more commission officers being killed at Tangier by the Moores,2174 by an ambush of the enemy upon them, while they were surveying their lines; which is very sad, and, he says, afflicts the King much. Thence to W. Joyce’s, where by appointment I met my wife (but neither of them at home), and she and I to the King’s house, and saw The Silent Woman; but methought not so well done or so good a play as I formerly thought it to be, or else I am nowadays out of humour. Before the play was done, it fell such a storm of hayle, that we in the middle of the pit were fain to rise;2175 and all the house in a disorder, and so my wife and I out and got into a little alehouse, and stayed there an hour after the play was done before we could get a coach, which at last we did (and by chance took up Joyce Norton and Mrs. Bowles, and set them at home), and so home ourselves, and I, after a little to my office, so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and then to the ’Change, where after some stay by coach with Sir J. Minnes and Mr. Coventry to St. James’s, and there dined with Mr. Coventry very finely, and so over the Park to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier about providing provisions, money, and men for Tangier. At it all the afternoon, but it is strange to see how poorly and brokenly things are done of the greatest consequence, and how soon the memory of this great man is gone, or, at least, out of mind by the thoughts of who goes next, which is not yet known. My Lord of Oxford, Muskerry, and several others are discoursed of. It seems my Lord Tiviott’s design was to go a mile and half out of the town, to cut down a wood in which the enemy did use to lie in ambush. He had sent several spies; but all brought word that the way was clear, and so might be for anybody’s discovery of an enemy before you are upon them. There they were all snapt, he and all his officers, and about 200 men, as they say; there being left now in the garrison but four captains. This happened the 3rd of May last, being not before that day twelvemonth of his entering into his government there: but at his going out in the morning he said to some of his officers, “Gentlemen, let us look to ourselves, for it was this day three years that so many brave Englishmen were knocked on the head by the Moores, when Fines2176 made his sally out.” Here till almost night, and then home with Sir J. Minnes by coach, and so to my office a while, and home to supper and bed, being now in constant pain in my back, but whether it be only wind or what it is the Lord knows, but I fear the worst.
. Up, still in a constant pain in my back, which much afflicts me with fear of the consequence of it. All the morning at the office, we sat at the office extraordinary upon the business of our stores, but, Lord! what a pitiful account the Surveyor makes of it grieves my heart. This morning before I came out I made a bargain with Captain Taylor for a ship for the Commissioners for Tangier, wherein I hope to get £40 or £50. To the ’Change, and thence home and dined, and then by coach to Whitehall, sending my wife to Mrs. Hunt’s. At the Committee for Tangier all the afternoon, where a sad consideration to see things of so great weight managed in so confused a manner as it is, so as I would not have the buying of an acre of land bought by the Duke of York and Mr. Coventry, for ought I see, being the only two that do anything like men; Prince Rupert do nothing but swear and laugh a little, with an oathe or two, and that’s all he do. Thence called my wife and home, and I late at my office, and so home to supper and to bed, pleased at my hopes of gains by today’s work, but very sad to think of the state of my health.
. Up and to St. James’s by coach, after a good deal of talk before I went forth with J. Noble, who tells me that he will secure us against Cave, that though he knows, and can prove it, yet nobody else can prove it, to be Tom’s child; that the bond was made by one Hudson, a scrivener, next to the Fountaine tavern, in the Old Bailey; that the children were born, and christened, and entered in the parish-book of St. Sepulchre’s, by the name of Anne and Elizabeth Taylor and he will give us security against Cave if we pay him the money. And then up to the Duke, and was with him giving him an account how matters go, and of the necessity there is of a power to press seamen, without which we cannot really raise men for this fleet of twelve sail, besides that it will assert the King’s power of pressing, which at present is somewhat doubted, and will make the Dutch believe that we are in earnest. Thence by water to the office, where we sat till almost two o’clock. This morning Captain Ferrer came to the office to tell me that my Lord hath given him a promise of Young’s place in the Wardrobe, and hearing that I pretend a promise to it he comes to ask my consent, which I denied him, and told him my Lord may do what he pleases with his promise to me, but my father’s condition is not so as that I should let it go if my Lord will stand to his word, and so I sent him going, myself being troubled a little at it. After office I with Mr. Coventry by water to St. James’s and dined with him, and had excellent discourse from him. So to the Committee for Tangier all afternoon, where still the same confused doings, and my Lord FitzHarding now added to the Committee; which will signify much. It grieves me to see how brokenly things are ordered. So by coach home, and at my office late, and so to supper and to bed, my body by plenty of breaking of wind being just now pretty well again, having had a constant aching in my back these 5 or 6 days. Mr. Coventry discoursing this noon about Sir W. Batten (what a sad fellow he is!) told me how the King told him the other day how Sir W. Batten, being in the ship with him and Prince Rupert when they expected to fight with Warwick,2177 did walk up and down sweating with a napkin under his throat to dry up his sweat; and that Prince Rupert being a most jealous man, and particularly of Batten, do walk up and down swearing bloodily to the King, that Batten had a mind to betray them today, and that the napkin was a signal; “but, by God,” says he, “if things go ill, the first thing I will do is to shoot him.” He discoursed largely and bravely to me concerning the different sort of valours, the active and passive valour. For the latter, he brought as an instance General Blake,2178 who, in the defending of Taunton and Lime for the Parliament, did through his stubborn sort of valour defend it the most opiniastrément2179 that ever any man did anything; and yet never was the man that ever made any attack by land or sea, but rather avoided it on all, even fair occasions. On the other side, Prince Rupert, the boldest attacker in the world for personal courage; and yet, in the defending of Bristol, no man ever did anything worse, he wanting the patience and seasoned head to consult and advise for defence, and to bear with the evils of a siege. The like he says is said of my Lord Tiviott, who was the boldest adventurer of his person in the world, and from a mean man in few years was come to this greatness of command and repute only by the death of all his officers, he many times having the luck of being the only survivor of them all, by venturing upon services for the King of France that nobody else would; and yet no man upon a defence, he being all fury and no judgment in a fight. He tells me above all of the Duke of York, that he is more himself and more of judgement is at hand in him in the middle of a desperate service, than at other times, as appeared in the business of Dunkirke, wherein no man ever did braver things, or was in hotter service in the close of that day, being surrounded with enemies; and then, contrary to the advice of all about him, his counsel carried himself and the rest through them safe, by advising that he might make his passage with but a dozen with him; “For,” says he, “the enemy cannot move after me so fast with a great body, and with a small one we shall be enough to deal with them;” and though he is a man naturally martiall to the highest degree, yet a man that never in his life talks one word of himself or service of his own, but only that he saw such or such a thing, and lays it down for a maxime that a Hector can have no courage. He told me also, as a great instance of some men, that the Prince of Condo’s excellence is, that there not being a more furious man in the world, danger in fight never disturbs him more than just to make him civil, and to command in words of great obligation to his officers and men; but without any the least disturbance in his judgment or spirit.
. About one in the morning I was knocked up by my maids to come to my wife who is very ill. I rose, and from some cold she got today, or from something else, she is taken with great gripings, a looseness, and vomiting. I lay a while by her upon the bed, she being in great pain, poor wretch, but that being a little over I to bed again, and lay, and then up and to my office all the morning, setting matters to rights in some accounts and papers, and then to dinner, whither Mr. Shepley, late come to town, came to me, and after dinner and some pleasant discourse he went his way, being to go out of town to Huntington again tomorrow. So all the afternoon with my wife discoursing and talking, and in the evening to my office doing business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and found my wife very ill again, which troubles me, but I was forced to go forth. So by water with Mr. Gauden and others to see a ship hired by me for the Commissioners of Tangier, and to give order therein. So back to the office, and by coach with Mr. Gauden to Whitehall, and there to my Lord Sandwich, and here I met Mr. Townsend very opportunely and Captain Ferrer, and after some discourse we did accommodate the business of the Wardrobe place, that he shall have the reversion if he will take it out by giving a covenant that if Mr. Young2180 dyes before my father my father shall have the benefit of it for his life. So home, and thence by water to Deptford, and there found our Trinity Brethren come from their election to church, where Dr. Britton2181 made, methought, an indifferent sermon touching the decency that we ought to observe in God’s house, the church, but yet to see how ridiculously some men will carry themselves. Sir W. Batten did at open table anon in the name of the whole Society desire him to print his sermon, as if the Doctor could think that they were fit judges of a good sermon. Then by barge with Sir W. Batten to Trinity House. It seems they have with much ado carried it for Sir G. Carteret against Captain Harrison,2182 poor man, who by succession ought to have been it, and most hands were for him, but only they were forced to fright the younger Brethren by requiring them to set their hands (which is an ill course) and then Sir G. Carteret carryed it. Here was at dinner my Lord Sandwich, Mr. Coventry, my Lord Craven, and others. A great dinner, and good company. Mr. Prin2183 also, who would not drink any health, no, not the King’s, but sat down with his hat on all the while; but nobody took notice of it to him at all; but in discourse with the Doctor he did declare himself that he ever was, and has expressed himself in all his books for mixt communion against the Presbyterian examination. Thence after dinner by water, my Lord Sandwich and all us Tangier men, where at the Committee busy till night with great confusion, and then by coach home, with this content, however, that I find myself every day become more and more known, and shall one day hope to have benefit by it. I found my wife a little better. A little to my office, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office (having by my going by water without anything upon my legs yesterday got some pain upon me again), where all the morning. At noon a little to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, my wife being ill still in bed. Thence to the office, where busy all the afternoon till 9 at night, and so home to my wife, to supper, and to bed.
. All day before dinner with Creed, talking of many things, among others, of my Lord’s going so often to Chelsy, and he, without my speaking much, do tell me that his daughters do perceive all, and do hate the place, and the young woman there, Mrs. Betty Becke; for my Lord, who sent them thither only for a disguise for his going thither, will come under pretence to see them, and pack them out of doors to the Park, and stay behind with her; but now the young ladies are gone to their mother to Kensington. To dinner, and after dinner till 10 at night in my study writing of my old broken office notes in shorthand all in one book, till my eyes did ache ready to drop out. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and at my office all the morning. At noon dined at home, Mr. Hunt and his kinswoman (wife in the country), after dinner I to the office, where we sat all the afternoon. Then at night by coach to attend the Duke of Albemarle about the Tangier ship. Coming back my wife spied me going home by coach from Mr. Hunt’s, with whom she hath gained much in discourse today concerning W. Howe’s discourse of me to him. That he was the man that got me to be secretary to my Lord; and all that I have thereby, and that for all this I never did give him 6d. in my life. Which makes me wonder that this rogue dare talk after this manner, and I think all the world is grown false. But I hope I shall make good use of it. So home to supper and to bed, my eyes aching mightily since last night.
. Up and by water to Whitehall, and there to a Committee of Tangier, and had occasion to see how my Lord Ashworth2184 deports himself, which is very fine indeed, and it joys my heart to see that there is anybody looks so near into the King’s business as I perceive he do in this business of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts. Thence into the Park, and met and walked with Captain Sylas Taylor, my old acquaintance while I was of the Exchequer, and Dr. Whore, talking of music, and particularly of Mr. Berckenshaw’s2185 way, which Taylor magnifies mightily, and perhaps but what it deserves, but not so easily to be understood as he and others make of it. Thence home by water, and after dinner abroad to buy several things, as a map, and powder, and other small things, and so home to my office, and in the evening with Captain Taylor by water to our Tangier ship, and so home, well pleased, having received £26 profit today of my bargain for this ship, which comforts me mightily, though I confess my heart, what with my being out of order as to my health, and the fear I have of the money my Lord oweth me and I stand indebted to him in, is much cast down of late. In the evening home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, where some discourse arose from Sir G. Carteret and Mr. Coventry, which gives me occasion to think that something like a war is expected now indeed, though upon the ’Change afterwards I hear too that an Embassador is landed from Holland, and one from their East India Company,2186 to treat with ours about the wrongs we pretend to. Mr. Creed dined with me, and thence after dinner by coach with my wife only to take the air, it being very warm and pleasant, to Bowe and Old Ford; and thence to Hackney. There ’light, and played at shuffleboard, eat cream and good cherries; and so with good refreshment home. Then to my office vexed with Captain Taylor about the delay of carrying down the ship hired by me for Tangier, and late about that and other things at the office. So home to supper and to bed.
. All the morning in my chamber consulting my lesson of ship building, and at noon Mr. Creed by appointment came and dined with us, and sat talking all the afternoon till, about church time, my wife and I began our great dispute about going to Griffin’s child’s christening, where I was to have been godfather, but Sir J. Minnes refusing, he wanted an equal for me and my Lady Batten, and so sought for other. Then the question was whether my wife should go, and she having dressed herself on purpose, was very angry, and began to talk openly of my keeping her within doors before Creed, which vexed me to the guts, but I had the discretion to keep myself without passion, and so resolved at last not to go, but to go down by water, which we did by H. Russell2187 to the Halfway house, and there eat and drank, and upon a very small occasion had a difference again broke out, where without any the least cause she had the cunning to cry a great while, and talk and blubber, which made me mighty angry in mind, but said nothing to provoke her because Creed was there, but walked home, being troubled in my mind also about the knavery and neglect of Captain Fudge and Taylor, who were to have had their ship for Tangier ready by Thursday last, and now the men by a mistake are come on board, and not any master or man or boy of the ship’s company on board with them when we came by her side this afternoon, and also received a letter from Mr. Coventry this day in complaint of it. We came home, and after supper Creed went home, and I to bed. My wife made great means to be friends, coming to my bedside and doing all things to please me, and at last I could not hold out, but seemed pleased, and so parted, and I with much ado to sleep, but was easily wakened by extraordinary great rain, and my mind troubled the more to think what the soldiers would do on board tonight in all this weather.
. So up at 5 o’clock, and with Captain Taylor on board her at Deptford, and found all out of order, only the soldiers civil, and Sir Arthur Bassett a civil person. I rated at Captain Taylor, whom, contrary to my expectation, I found a lying and a very stupid blundering fellow, good for nothing, and yet we talk of him in the Navy as if he had been an excellent officer, but I find him a lying knave, and of no judgment or dispatch at all. After finding the condition of the ship, no master, not above four men, and many ship’s provisions, sails, and other things wanting, I went back and called upon Fudge, whom I found like a lying rogue unready to go on board, but I did so jeer him that I made him get everything ready, and left Taylor and H. Russell to quicken him, and so away and I by water on to Whitehall, where I met his Royal Highness at a Tangier Committee about this very thing, and did there satisfy him how things are, at which all was pacified without any trouble, and I hope may end well, but I confess I am at a real trouble for fear the rogue should not do his work, and I come to shame and losse of the money I did hope justly to have got by it. Thence walked with Mr. Coventry to St. James’s, and there spent by his desire the whole morning reading of some old Navy books given him of old Sir John Cooke’s2188 by the Archbishop of Canterbury that now is; wherein the order that was observed in the Navy then, above what it is now, is very observable, and fine things we did observe in our reading. Anon to dinner, after dinner to discourse of the business of the Dutch war, wherein he tells me the Dutch do in every particular, which are but few and small things that we can demand of them, whatever cry we unjustly make, do seem to offer at an accommodation, for they do own that it is not for their profit to have war with England. We did also talk of a History of the Navy of England, how fit it were to be writ; and he did say that it hath been in his mind to propose to me the writing of the History of the late Dutch war, which I am glad to hear, it being a thing I much desire, and sorts mightily with my genius; and, if well done, may recommend me much. So he says he will get me an order for making of searches to all records, etc., in order thereto, and I shall take great delight in doing of it. Thence by water down to the Tower, and thither sent for Mr. Creed to my house, where he promised to be, and he and I down to the ship, and find all things in pretty good order, and I hope will end to my mind. Thence having a gally down to Greenwich, and there saw the King’s works, which are great, a-doing there, and so to the Cherry Garden,2189 and so carried some cherries home, and after supper to bed, my wife lying with me, which from my not being thoroughly well, nor she, we have not done above once these two or three weeks.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and had great conflict about the flags again, and am vexed methought to see my Lord Berkely not satisfied with what I said, but however I stop the King’s being abused by the flag makers for the present. I do not know how it may end, but I will do my best to preserve it. So home to dinner, and after dinner by coach to Kensington. In the way overtaking Mr. Laxton, the apothecary, with his wife and daughters, very fine young lasses, in a coach; and so both of us to my Lady Sandwich, who hath lain this fortnight here at Deane Hodges’s.2190 Much company came hither today, my Lady Carteret, etc., Sir William Wheeler and his lady, and, above all, Mr. Becke, of Chelsy, and wife and daughter, my Lord’s mistress, and one that hath not one good feature in her face, and yet is a fine lady, of a fine taille,2191 and very well carriaged, and mighty discreet. I took all the occasion I could to discourse with the young ladies in her company to give occasion to her to talk, which now and then she did, and that mighty finely, and is, I perceive, a woman of such an air, as I wonder the less at my Lord’s favour to her, and I dare warrant him she hath brains enough to entangle him. Two or three houres we were in her company, going into Sir H. Finche’s2192 garden, and seeing the fountain, and singing there with the ladies, and a mighty fine cool place it is, with a great laver2193 of water in the middle and the bravest place for music I ever heard. After much mirthe, discoursing to the ladies in defence of the city against the country or court, and giving them occasion to invite themselves tomorrow to me to dinner, to my venison pasty, I got their mother’s leave, and so good night, very well pleased with my day’s work, and, above all, that I have seen my Lord’s mistress. So home to supper, and a little at my office, and to bed.
. Up and by appointment with Captain Witham2194 (the Captain that brought the news of the disaster at Tangier, where my Lord Tiviott was slain) and Mr. Tooker to Beares Quay,2195 and there saw and more afterward at the several granaries several parcels of oates, and strange it is to hear how it will heat itself if laid up green and not often turned. We came not to any agreement, but did cheapen several parcels, and thence away, promising to send again to them. So to the Victualling office, and then home. And in our garden I got Captain Witham to tell me the whole story of my Lord Tiviott’s misfortune; for he was upon the guard with his horse neare the town, when at a distance he saw the enemy appear upon a hill, a mile and a half off, and made up to them, and with much ado escaped himself; but what became of my Lord he neither knows nor thinks that anybody but the enemy can tell. Our losse was about four hundred. But he tells me that the greater wonder is that my Lord Tiviott met no sooner with such a disaster; for every day he did commit himself to more probable danger than this, for now he had the assurance of all his scouts that there was no enemy thereabouts; whereas he used every day to go out with two or three with him, to make his discoveries, in greater danger, and yet the man that could not endure to have anybody else to go a step out of order to endanger himself. He concludes him to be the man of the hardest fate to lose so much honour at one blow that ever was. His relation being done he parted; and so I home to look after things for dinner. And anon at noon comes Mr. Creed by chance, and by and by the three young ladies:2196 and very merry we were with our pasty, very well baked; and a good dish of roasted chickens; peas, lobsters, strawberries. And after dinner to cards: and about five o’clock, by water down to Greenwich; and up to the top of the hill, and there played upon the ground at cards. And so to the Cherry Garden, and then by water singing finely to the Bridge, and there landed; and so took boat again, and to Somersett House. And by this time, the tide being against us, it was past ten of the clock; and such a troublesome passage, in regard of my Lady Paulina’s fearfullness, that in all my life I never did see any poor wretch in that condition. Being come hither, there waited for them their coach; but it being so late, I doubted what to do how to get them home. After half an hour’s stay in the street, I sent my wife home by coach with Mr. Creed’s boy; and myself and Creed in the coach home with them. But, Lord! the fear that my Lady Paulina was in every step of the way; and indeed at this time of the night it was no safe thing to go that road; so that I was even afeard myself, though I appeared otherwise.2197 We came safe, however, to their house, where all were abed; we knocked them up, my Lady and all the family being in bed. So put them into doors; and leaving them with the maids, bade them good night, and then into the town,2198 Creed and I, it being about twelve o’clock and past; and to several houses, inns, but could get no lodging, all being in bed. At the last house, at last, we found some people drinking and roaring; and there got in, and after drinking, got an ill bed, where …
… I lay in my drawers and stockings and waistcoat till five of the clock, and so up; and being well pleased with our frolic, walked to Knightsbridge, and there eat a mess of creame, and so to St. James’s, and there walked a little, and so I to Whitehall, and took coach, and found my wife well got home last night, and now in bed. So I to the office, where all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, so home and to my office, where Mr. Ackworth came to me (though he knows himself and I know him to be a very knave), yet he came to me to discover the knavery of other people like the most honest man in the world. However, good use I shall make of his discourse, for in this he is much in the right. He being gone I to the ’Change, Mr. Creed with me, after we had been by water to see a vessel we have hired to carry more soldiers to Tangier, and also visited a rope ground, wherein I learnt several useful things. The talk upon the ’Change is, that De Ruyter2199 is dead, with fifty men of his own ship, of the plague, at Cales: that the Holland Embassador here do endeavour to sweeten us with fair words; and things likely to be peaceable. Home after I had spoke with my cousin Richard Pepys upon the ’Change, about supplying us with bewpers from Norwich, which I should be glad of, if cheap. So home to supper and bed.
. Up, and to my office, where I dispatched much business, and then down by water to Woolwich to make a discovery of a cheate providing for us in the working of some of our own ground Tows into new cordage, to be sold to us for Riga cordage. Thence to Mr. Falconer’s, where I met Sir W. Batten and Lady, and Captain Tinker, and there dined with them, and so to the Dockyarde and to Deptford by water, and there very long informing myself in the business of flags and bewpers and other things, and so home late, being weary, and full of good information today, but I perceive the corruptions of the Navy are of so many kinds that it is endless to look after them, especially while such a one as Sir W. Batten discourages every man that is honest. So home to my office, there very late, and then to supper and to bed mightily troubled in my mind to hear how Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes do labour all they can to abuse or enable others to abuse the King.
. From morning till 11 at night (only a little at dinner at home) at my office very busy, setting many businesses in order to my great trouble, but great content in the end. So home to supper and to bed. Strange to see how pert Sir W. Penn is today newly come from Portsmouth with his head full of great reports of his service and the state of the ships there. When that is over he will be just as another man again or worse. But I wonder whence Mr. Coventry should take all this care for him, to send for him up only to look after his Irish business with my Lord Ormond and to get the Duke’s leave for him to come with so much officiousness, when I am sure he knows him as well as I do as to his little service he do.
. Up, and all the morning and afternoon (only at dinner at home) at my office doing many businesses for want of time on the week days. In the afternoon the greatest shower of rain of a sudden and the greatest and most continued thunder that ever I heard I think in my life. In the evening home to my wife, and there talked seriously of several of our family concernments, and among others of bringing Pall out of the country to us here to try to put her off, which I am very desirous, and my wife also of. So to supper, prayers, which I have of late too much omitted. So to bed.
. It having been a very cold night last night I had got some cold, and so in pain by wind, and a sure precursor of pain is sudden letting off farts, and when that stops, then my passages stop and my pain begins. Up and did several businesses, and so with my wife by water to Whitehall, she to her father’s, I to the Duke, where we did our usual business. And among other discourse of the Dutch, he was merrily saying how they print that Prince Rupert, Duke of Albemarle, and my Lord Sandwich, are to be Generals; and soon after is to follow them “Vieux Penn;” and so the Duke called him in mirth Old Penn. They have, it seems, lately wrote to the King, to assure him that their setting-out ships were only to defend their fishing-trade, and to stay near home, not to annoy the King’s subjects; and to desire that he would do the like with his ships: which the King laughs at, but yet is troubled they should think him such a child, to suffer them to bring home their fish and East India Company’s ships, and then they will not care a fart for us. Thence to Westminster Hall, it being term time, meeting Mr. Pickering, he tells me how my Lady last week went to see Mrs. Becke, the mother; and by and by the daughter came in, but that my Lady do say herself, as he says, that she knew not for what reason, for she never knew they had a daughter, which I do not believe. She was troubled, and her heart did rise as soon as she appeared, and seems the most ugly woman that ever she saw. This if true were strange, but I believe it is not. Thence to my Lord’s lodgings; and were merry with the young ladies, who make a great story of their appearing before their mother the morning after we carried them, the last week, home so late; and that their mother took it very well, at least without any anger. Here I heard how the rich widow, my Lady Gold, is married to one Neale,2200 after he had received a box on the ear by her brother (who was there a sentinel, in behalf of some courtier) at the door; but made him draw, and wounded him. She called Neale up to her, and sent for a priest, married presently, and went to bed. The brother sent to the Court, and had a serjeant sent for Neale; but Neale sent for him up to be seen in bed, and she owned him for her husband: and so all is past. It seems Sir H. Bennet did look after her. My Lady very pleasant. After dinner came in Sir Thomas Crew and Mr. Sidney2201 lately come from France, who is grown a little, and a pretty youth he is; but not so improved as they did give him out to be, but like a child still. But yet I can perceive he hath good parts and good inclinations. Thence with Creed, who dined here, to Westminster to find out Mr. Hawly, and did, but he did not accept of my offer of his being steward to my Lord at sea. Thence alone to several places about my law businesses, and with good success; at last I to Mr. Townsend at the Wardrobe, and received kind words from him to be true to me against Captain Ferrers his endeavours to get the place from my father as my Lord hath promised him. Here met Will. Howe, and he went forth with me; and by water back to Whitehall to wait on my Lord, who is come back from Hinchinbroke; where he has been about 4 or 5 days. But I was never more vexed to see how an over-officious visit is received, for he received me with as little concernment as in the middle of his discontent, and a fool I am to be of so servile a humour, and vexed with that consideration I took coach home, and could not get it off my mind all night. To supper and to bed, my wife finding fault with Besse for her calling upon Jane that lived with us, and there heard Mrs. Harper and her talk ill of us and not told us of it. With which I was also vexed, and told her soundly of it till she cried, poor wench, and I hope without dissimulation, and yet I cannot tell; however, I was glad to see in what manner she received it, and so to sleep.
. Being weary yesterday with walking I sleep long, and at last up and to the office, where all the morning. At home to dinner, Mr. Deane with me. After dinner I to Whitehall (setting down my wife by the way) to a Committee of Tangier, where the Duke of York, I perceive, do attend the business very well, much better than any man there or most of them, and my [mind] eased of some trouble I lay under for fear of his thinking ill of me from the bad success in the setting forth of these crew men to Tangier. Thence with Mr. Creed, and walked in the Park, and so to the New Exchange, meeting Mr. Moore, and he with us. I showed him no friendly look, but he took no notice to me of the Wardrobe business, which vexes me. I perceive by him my Lord’s business of his family and estate goes very ill, and runs in debt mightily. I would to God I were clear of it, both as to my own money and the bond of £1,000, which I stand debtor for him in, to my cousin Thomas Pepys. Thence by coach home and to my office a little, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up and I found Mr. Creed below, who stayed with me a while, and then I to business all the morning. At noon to the ’Change and Coffeehouse, where great talk of the Dutch preparing of sixty sail of ships. The plague grows mightily among them, both at sea and land.2202 From the ’Change to dinner to Trinity House with Sir W. Rider and Cutler, where a very good dinner. Here Sir G. Ascue dined also, who I perceive desires to make himself known among the seamen. Thence home, there coming to me my Lord Peterborough’s Solicitor with a letter from him to desire present dispatch in his business of freight, and promises me £50, which is good news, and I hope to do his business readily for him. This much rejoiced me. All the afternoon at his business, and late at night comes the Solicitor again, and I with him at 9 o’clock to Mr. Povy’s, and there acquainted him with the business. The money he won’t pay without warrant, but that will be got done in a few days. So home by coach and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and there we sat all the morning. So to the ’Change, and then home to dinner and to my office, where till 10 at night very busy, and so home to supper and to bed. My cousin, Thomas Pepys, was with me yesterday and I took occasion to speak to him about the bond I stand bound for my Lord Sandwich to him in £1,000. I did very plainly, obliging him to secrecy, tell him how the matter stands, yet with all duty to my Lord my resolution to be bound for whatever he desires me for him, yet that I would be glad he had any other security. I perceive by Mr. Moore today that he hath been with my Lord, and my Lord how he takes it I know not, but he is looking after other security and I am mighty glad of it. W. Howe was with me this afternoon, to desire some things to be got ready for my Lord against his going down to his ship, which will be soon; for it seems the King and both the Queenes intend to visit him. The Lord knows how my Lord will get out of this charge; for Mr. Moore tells me today that he is £10,000 in debt and this will, with many other things that daily will grow upon him (while he minds his pleasure as he do), set him further backward. But it was pretty this afternoon to hear W. Howe mince the matter, and say that he do believe that my Lord is in debt £2,000 or £3,000, and then corrected himself and said, No, not so, but I am afraid he is in debt £1,000. I pray God gets me well rid of his Lordship as to his debt, and I care not.
. Up and out with Captain Witham in several places again to look for oats for Tangier, and among other places to the City granaries, where it seems every company have their granary2203 and obliged to keep such a quantity of corne always there or at a time of scarcity to issue so much at so much a bushell: and a fine thing it is to see their stores of all sorts, for piles for the bridge, and for pipes, a thing I never saw before. Thence to the office, and there busy all the morning. At noon to my uncle Wight’s, and there dined, my wife being there all the morning. After dinner to Whitehall; and there met with Mr. Pierce, and he showed me the Queen’s bedchamber, and her closet, where she had nothing but some pretty pious pictures, and books of devotion; and her holy water at her head as she sleeps, with her clock by her bedside, wherein a lamp burns that tells her the time of the night at any time. Thence with him to the Park, and there met the Queen coming from Chapel, with her Maids of Honour, all in silver-lace gowns again: which is new to me, and that which I did not think would have been brought up again. Thence he carried me to the King’s closet: where such variety of pictures, and other things of value and rarity, that I was properly confounded and enjoyed no pleasure in the sight of them; which is the only time in my life that ever I was so at a loss for pleasure, in the greatest plenty of objects to give it me. Thence home, calling in many places and doing abundance of errands to my great content, and at night weary home, where Mr. Creed waited for me, and he and I walked in the garden, where he told me he is now in a hurry fitting himself for sea, and that it remains that he deals as an ingenuous man with me in the business I wot of, which he will do before he goes. But I perceive he will have me do many good turns for him first, both as to his bills coming to him in this office, and also in his absence at the Committee of Tangier, which I promise, and as he acquits himself to me I will willingly do. I would I knew the worst of it, what it is he intends, that so I may either quit my hands of him or continue my kindness still to him.
. We stayed late, and he lay with me all night and rose very merry talking, and excellent company he is, that is the truth of it, and a most cunning man. He being gone I to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon to dinner, and then to my office busy, and by and by home with Mr. Deane to a lesson upon raising a Bend of Timbers,2204 and he being gone I to the office, and there came Captain Taylor, and he and I home, and I have done all very well with him as to the business of the last trouble, so that come what will come my name will be clear of any false dealing with him. So to my office again late, and then to bed.
. Up, and Sir J. Minnes set me down at my Lord Sandwich’s, where I waited till his coming down, when he came, too, could find little to say to me but only a general question or two, and so goodbye. Here his little daughter, my Lady Katharine was brought, who is lately come from my father’s at Brampton, to have her cheek looked after, which is and hath long been sore. But my Lord will rather have it be as it is, with a scarr in her face, than endanger it being worse by tampering.2205 He being gone, I went home, a little troubled to see he minds me no more, and with Creed called at several churches, which, God knows, are supplied with very young men, and the churches very empty; so home and at our own church looked in, and there heard one preach whom Sir W. Penn brought, which he desired us yesterday to hear, that had been his chaplain in Ireland, a very silly fellow. So home and to dinner, and after dinner a frolic took us, we would go this afternoon to the Hope; so my wife dressed herself, and, with good victuals and drink, we took boat presently and the tide with us got down, but it was night, and the tide spent by the time we got to Gravesend; so there we stopped, but went not on shore, only Creed, to get some cherries,2206 and send a letter to the Hope, where the Fleet lies. And so, it being rainy, and thundering mightily, and lightning, we returned. By and by the evening turned mighty clear and moonshine; we got with great pleasure home, about twelve o’clock, which did much please us, Creed telling pretty stories in the boat. He lay with me all night.
. Up, and he and I walked to Paul’s Church yard, and there saw Sir Harry Spillman’s book,2207 and I bespoke it and others, and thence we took coach, and he to my Lord’s and I to St. James’s, where we did our usual business, and thence I home and dined, and then by water to Woolwich, and there spent the afternoon till night under pretence of buying Captain Blackman’s house and grounds, and viewing the ground took notice of Clothiers’ cordage with which he, I believe, thinks to cheat the King. That being done I by water home, it being night first, and there I find our new maid Jane come, a cook-maid. So to bed.
. Up, and this day put on a half shirt first this summer, it being very hot; and yet so ill-tempered I am grown, that I am afeard I shall catch cold, while all the world is ready to melt away. To the office all the morning, at noon to dinner at home, then to my office till the evening, then out about several businesses and then by appointment to the ’Change, and thence with my uncle Wight to the Mum house, and there drinking, he do complain of his wife most cruel as the most troublesome woman in the world, and how she will have her will, saying she brought him a portion and God knows what. By which, with many instances more, I perceive they do live a sad life together. Thence to the Mitre and there comes Dr. Burnett to us and Mr. Maes, but the meeting was chiefly to bring the Doctor and me together, and there I began to have his advice about my disease, and then invited him to my house: and I am resolved to put myself into his hands. Here very late, but I drank nothing, nor will, though he do advise me to take care of cold drinks. So home and to bed.
. Up, and Mr. Shepley came to me, who is lately come to town; among other things I hear by him how the children are sent for away from my father’s, but he says without any great discontent. I am troubled there should be this occasion of difference, and yet I am glad they are gone, lest it should have come to worse. He tells me how my brave dog I did give him, going out betimes one morning to Huntington, was set upon by five other dogs, and worried to pieces, of which I am a little, and he the most sorry I ever saw man for such a thing. Forth with him and walked a good way talking, then parted and I to the Temple, and to my cousin Roger Pepys, and thence by water to Westminster to see Dean Honiwood, whom I had not visited a great while. He is a good-natured, but a very weak man, yet a Dean, and a man in great esteem. Thence walked to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there dined, my Lord there. He was pleasant enough at table with me, but yet without any discourse of business, or any regard to me when dinner was over, but fell to cards, and my Lady and I sat two hours alone, talking of the condition of her family’s being greatly in debt, and many children now coming up to provide for. I did give her my sense very plain of it, which she took well and carried further than myself, to the bemoaning their condition, and remembering how finely things were ordered about six years ago, when I lived there and my Lord at sea every year. Thence home, doing several errands by the way. So to my office, and there till late at night, Mr. Comander coming to me for me to sign and seal the new draft of my will, which I did do, I having altered something upon the death of my brother Tom. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, Mr. Wayth with me, and by and by comes in Mr. Falconer and his wife and dined with us, the first time she was ever here. We had a pretty good dinner, very merry in discourse, sat after dinner an hour or two, then down by water to Deptford and Woolwich about getting of some business done which I was bound to by my oath this month, and though in some things I have not come to the height of my vow of doing all my business in paying all my petty debts and receipt of all my petty monies due to me, yet I bless God I am not conscious of any neglect in me that they are not done, having not minded my pleasure at all, and so being resolved to take no manner of pleasure till it be done, I doubt not God will forgive me for not forfeiting the £10 promised. Walked back from Woolwich to Greenwich all alone, save a man that had a cudgell in his hand, and, though he told me he laboured in the King’s yarde, and many other good arguments that he is an honest man, yet, God forgive me! I did doubt he might knock me on the head behind with his club. But I got safe home. Then to the making up my month’s accounts, and find myself still a gainer and rose to £951, for which God be blessed. I end the month with my mind full of business and some sorrow that I have not exactly performed all my vowes, though my not doing is not my fault, and shall be made good out of my first leisure. Great doubts yet whether the Dutch wary go on or no. The Fleet ready in the Hope, of twelve sail. The King and Queenes go on board, they say, on Saturday next. Young children of my Lord Sandwich gone with their maids from my mother’s, which troubles me, it being, I hear from Mr. Shepley, with great discontent, saying, that though they buy good meate, yet can never have it before it stinks, which I am ashamed of.
July 1664
. Up and within all the morning, first bringing down my Triangle to my chamber below, having a new frame made proper for it to stand on. By and by comes Dr. Burnett, who assures me that I have an ulcer either in the kidneys or bladder, for my water, which he saw yesterday, he is sure the sediment is not slime gathered by heat, but is a direct pusse. He did write me down some direction2208 what to do for it, but not with the satisfaction I expected. I did give him a piece, with good hopes, however, that his advice will be of use to me, though it is strange that Mr. Hollyard should never say one word of this ulcer in all his life to me. He being gone, I to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and so to my office, busy till the evening, and then by agreement came Mr. Hill and Andrews and one Cheswicke, a maister who plays very well upon the Spinette, and we sat singing Psalms till 9 at night, and so broke up with great pleasure, and very good company it is, and I hope I shall now and then have their company. They being gone, I to my office till towards twelve o’clock, and then home and to bed. Upon the ’Change, this day, I saw how uncertain the temper of the people is, that, from our discharging of about 200 that lay idle, having nothing to do, upon some of our ships, which were ordered to be fitted for service, and their works are now done, the town do talk that the King discharges all his men, 200 yesterday and 800 today, and that now he hath got £100,000 in his hand, he values not a Dutch war. But I undeceived a great many, telling them how it is.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and there, which is strange, I could meet with nobody that I could invite home to my venison pasty, but only Mr. Alsopp and Mr. Lanyon, whom I invited last night, and a friend they brought along with them. So home and with our venison pasty we had other good meat and good discourse. After dinner sat close to discourse about our business of the victualling of the garrison of Tangier, taking their prices of all provisions, and I do hope to order it so that they and I also may get something by it, which do much please me, for I hope I may get nobly and honestly with profit to the King. They being gone came Sir W. Warren, and he and I discoursed long about the business of masts, and then in the evening to my office, where late writing letters, and then home to look over some Brampton papers, which I am under an oathe to dispatch before I spend one half houre in any pleasure or go to bed before 12 o’clock, to which, by the grace of God, I will be true. Then to bed. When I came home I found that tomorrow being Sunday I should gain nothing by doing it tonight, and tomorrow I can do it very well and better than tonight. I went to bed before my time, but with a resolution of doing the thing to better purpose tomorrow.
. Up and ready, and all the morning in my chamber looking over and settling some Brampton businesses. At noon to dinner, where the remains of yesterday’s venison and a couple of brave green geese, which we are fain to eat alone, because they will not keepe, which troubled us. After dinner I close to my business, and before the evening did end it with great content, and my mind eased by it. Then up and spent the evening walking with my wife talking, and it thundering and lightning all the evening, and this yeare have had the most of thunder and lightning they say of any in man’s memory, and so it is, it seems, in France and everywhere else. So to prayers and to bed.
. Up, and many people with me about business, and then out to several places, and so at noon to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined and very much made of there by him. He offered me the selling of some land of his in Cambridgeshire, a purchase of about £1,000, and if I can compass it I will. After dinner I walked homeward, still doing business by the way, and at home find my wife this day of her own accord to have lain out 25s. upon a pair of pendantes for her ears, which did vex me and brought both me and her to very high and very foule words from her to me, such as trouble me to think she should have in her mouth, and reflecting upon our old differences, which I hate to have remembered. I vowed to breake them, or that she should go and get what she could for them again. I went with that resolution out of doors; the poor wretch afterwards in a little while did send out to change them for her money again. I followed Besse her messenger at the ’Change, and there did consult and sent her back; I would not have them changed, being satisfied that she yielded. So went home, and friends again as to that business; but the words I could not get out of my mind, and so went to bed at night discontented, and she came to bed to me, but all would not make me friends, but sleep and rise in the morning angry. This day the King and the Queen went to visit my Lord Sandwich and the fleet, going forth in the Hope.2209
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon to the ’Change a little, then with W. Howe home and dined. So after dinner to my office, and there busy till late at night, having had among other things much discourse with young Gregory about the Chest business, wherein Sir W. Batten is so great a knave, and also with Alsop and Lanyon about the Tangier victualling, wherein I hope to get something for myself. Late home to supper and to bed, being full of thoughts of a sudden resolution this day taken upon the ’Change of going down tomorrow to the Hope.
. Up very betimes, and my wife also, and got us ready; and about eight o’clock, having got some bottles of wine and beer and neat’s tongues, we went to our barge at the Tower, where Mr. Pierce and his wife, and a kinswoman and his sister, and Mrs. Clerke and her sister and cousin were to expect us; and so set out for the Hope, all the way down playing at cards and other sports, spending our time pretty merry. Come to the Hope about one and there showed them all the ships, and had a collacion of anchovies, gammon, etc., and after an houre’s stay or more, embarked again for home; and so to cards and other sports till we came to Greenwich, and there Mrs. Clerke and my wife and I on shore to an alehouse, for them to do their business, and so to the barge again, having shown them the King’s pleasure boat; and so home to the Bridge, bringing night home with us; and it rained hard, but we got them on foot to the Beare, and there put them into a boat, and I back to my wife in the barge, and so to the Tower Wharf and home, being very well pleased today with the company, especially Mrs. Pierce, who continues her complexion as well as ever, and hath, at this day, I think, the best complexion that ever I saw on any woman, young or old, or child either, all days of my life. Also Mrs. Clerke’s kinswoman sings very prettily, but is very confident in it; Mrs. Clerke herself witty, but spoils all in being so conceited and making so great a flutter with a few fine clothes and some bad tawdry things worne with them. But the charge of the barge lies heavy upon me, which troubles me, but it is but once, and I may make Pierce do me some courtesy as great. Being come home, I weary to bed with sitting. The reason of Dr. Clerke’s not being here was the King’s being sicke last night and let blood, and so he durst not come away today.
. Up, and this day begun, the first day this year, to put off my linen waistcoat, but it happening to be a cool day I was afraid of taking cold, which troubles me, and is the greatest pain I have in the world to think of my bad temper of my health. At the office all the morning. Dined at home, to my office to prepare some things against a Committee of Tangier this afternoon. So to Whitehall, and there found the Duke and twenty more reading their commission (of which I am, and was also sent to, to come) for the Royal Fishery, which is very large, and a very serious charter it is; but the company generally so ill fitted for so serious a worke that I do much fear it will come to little. That being done, and not being able to do anything for lacke of an oathe for the Governor and Assistants to take, we rose. Then our Committee for the Tangier victualling met and did a little, and so up, and I and Mr. Coventry walked in the garden half an hour, talking of the business of our masts, and thence away and with Creed walked half an hour or more in the Park, and thence to the New Exchange to drink some creame, but missed it and so parted, and I home, calling by the way for my new bookes, viz., Sir H. Spillman’s Whole Glossary, Scapula’s Lexicon, and Shakespeare’s plays, which I have got money out of my stationer’s bills to pay for. So home and to my office a while, and then home and to bed, finding myself pretty well for all my waistecoate being put off today. The king is pretty well today, though let blood the night before yesterday.
. Up and called out by my Lord Peterborough’s gentleman to Mr. Povy’s to discourse about getting of his money, wherein I am concerned in hopes of the £50 my Lord hath promised me, but I dare not reckon myself sure of it till I have it in my main2210 for these Lords are hard to be trusted. Though I well deserve it. I stayed at Povy’s for his coming in, and there looked over his stables and everything, but notwithstanding all the times I have been there I do yet find many fine things to look on. Thence to Whitehall a little, to hear how the King do, he not having been well these three days. I find that he is pretty well again. So to Paul’s Churchyarde about my books, and to the binder’s and directed the doing of my Chaucer,2211 though they were not full neate enough for me, but pretty well it is; and thence to the clasp-maker’s to have it clasped and bossed. So to the ’Change and home to dinner, and so to my office till 5 o’clock, and then came Mr. Hill and Andrews, and we sung an houre or two. Then broke up and Mr. Alsop and his company came and consulted about our Tangier victualling and brought it to a good head. So they parted, and I to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. In the afternoon by coach with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, and there to a Committee for Fishing; but the first thing was swearing to be true to the Company, and we were all sworne; but a great dispute we had, which, methought, is very ominous to the Company; some, that we should swear to be true to the best of our power, and others to the best of our understanding; and carried in the last, though in that we are the least able to serve the Company, because we would not be obliged to attend the business when we can, but when we list. This consideration did displease me, but it was voted and so went. We did nothing else, but broke up till a Committee of Guinea was set and ended, and then met again for Tangier, and there I did my business about my Lord Peterborough’s order and my own for my expenses for the garrison lately. So home, by the way calling for my Chaucer and other books, and that is well done to my mind, which pleased me well. So to my office till late writing letters, and so home to my wife to supper and bed, where we have not lain together because of the heat of the weather a good while, but now against her going into the country.
. Up and by water, towards noon, to Somersett House, and walked to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there dined with my Lady and the children. And after some ordinary discourse with my Lady, after dinner took our leaves and my wife hers, in order to her going to the country tomorrow. But my Lord took not occasion to speak one word of my father or mother about the children at all, which I wonder at, and begin I will not. Here my Lady showed us my Lady Castlemayne’s2212 picture, finely done; given my Lord; and a most beautiful picture it is. Thence with my Lady Jemimah and Mr. Sidney to St. Gyles’s Church, and there heard a long, poore sermon. Thence set them down and in their coach to Kate Joyce’s christening, where much company, good service of sweetmeates; and after an houre’s stay, left them, and in my Lord’s coach—his noble, rich coach—home, and there my wife fell to putting things in order against her going tomorrow, and I to read, and so to bed, where I not well, and so had no pleasure at all with my poor wife.
. But betimes up this morning, and, getting ready, we by coach to Holborne, where, at nine o’clock, they set out, and I and my man Will on horseback, by my wife, to Barnett; a very pleasant day; and there dined with her company, which was very good; a pretty gentlewoman with her, that goes but to Huntington, and a neighbour to us in town. Here we stayed two hours and then parted for all together, and my poor wife I shall soon want I am sure. Thence I and Will to see the Wells, half a mile off,2213 and there I drank three glasses, and went and walked and came back and drunk two more; the woman would have had me drink three more; but I could not, my belly being full, but this wrought very well, and so we rode home, round by Kingsland, Hackney, and Mile End till we were quite weary, and my water working at least 7 or 8 times upon the road, which pleased me well, and so home weary, and not being very well, I betimes to bed, and there fell into a most mighty sweat in the night, about eleven o’clock, and there, knowing what money I have in the house and hearing a noise, I begun to sweat worse and worse, till I melted almost to water. I rung, and could not in half an houre make either of the wenches hear me, and this made me fear the more, lest they might be gaga; and then I begun to think that there was some design in a stone being flung at the window over our stairs this evening, by which the thiefes meant to try what looking there would be after them and know our company. These thoughts and fears I had, and do hence apprehend the fears of all rich men that are covetous and have much money by them. At last Jane rose, and then I understand it was only the dog wants a lodging and so made a noise. So to bed, but hardly slept, at last did, and so till morning,
. And so rose, called up by my Lord Peterborough’s gentleman about getting his Lord’s money today of Mr. Povy, wherein I took such order, that it was paid, and I had my £50 brought me, which comforts my heart. We sat at the office all the morning, then at home. Dined alone; sad for want of company and not being very well, and know not how to eat alone. After dinner down with Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir W. Batten to view, and did like a place by Deptford yard to lay masts in. By and by comes Mr. Coventry, and after a little stay he and I down to Blackwall, he having a mind to see the yarde, which we did, and fine storehouses there are and good docks, but of no great profit to him that oweth them for ought we see.2214 So home by water with him, having good discourse by the way, and so I to the office a while, and late home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, at noon (after having at an alehouse hard by discoursed with one Mr. Tyler, a neighbour, and one Captain Sanders about the discovery of some pursers that have sold their provisions) I to my Lord Sandwich, thinking to have dined there, but they not dining at home, I with Captain Ferrers to Mr. Barwell the King’s Squire Sadler, where about this time twelvemonths I dined before at a good venison pasty. The like we had now, and very good company, Mr. Tresham and others. Thence to Whitehall to the Fishery, and there did little. So by water home, and there met Lanyon, etc., about Tangier matters, and so late to my office, and thence home and to bed. Mr. Moore was with me late to desire me to come to my Lord Sandwich tomorrow morning, which I shall, but I wonder what my business is.
. My mind being doubtful what the business should be, I rose a little after four o’clock, and abroad. Walked to my Lord’s, and nobody up, but the porter rose out of bed to me so I back again to Fleet Street, and there bought a little book of law; and thence, hearing a psalm sung, I went into St. Dunstan’s, and there heard prayers read, which, it seems, is done there every morning at six o’clock; a thing I never did do at a chapel, but the College Chapel, in all my life. Thence to my Lord’s again, and my Lord being up, was sent for up, and he and I alone. He did begin with a most solemn profession of the same confidence in and love for me that he ever had, and then told me what a misfortune was fallen upon me and him: in me, by a displeasure which my Lord Chancellor did show to him last night against me, in the highest and most passionate manner that ever any man did speak, even to the not hearing of anything to be said to him: but he told me, that he did say all that could be said for a man as to my faithfulness and duty to his Lordship, and did me the greatest right imaginable. And what should the business be, but that I should be forward to have the trees in Clarendon Park2215 marked and cut down, which he, it seems, hath bought of my Lord Albemarle; when, God knows! I am the most innocent man in the world in it, and did nothing of myself, nor knew of his concernment therein, but barely obeyed my Lord Treasurer’s warrant for the doing thereof. And said that I did most ungentlemanlike with him, and had justified the rogues in cutting down a tree of his; and that I had sent the veriest Fanatic [Deane] that is in England to mark them, on purpose to nose2216 him. All which, I did assure my Lord, was most properly false, and nothing like it true; and told my Lord the whole passage. My Lord do seem most nearly affected; he is partly, I believe, for me, and partly for himself. So he advised me to wait presently upon my Lord, and clear myself in the most perfect manner I could, with all submission and assurance that I am his creature both in this and all other things; and that I do own that all I have, is derived through my Lord Sandwich from his Lordship. So, full of horror, I went, and found him busy in tryals of law in his great room; and it being Sitting-day, durst not stay, but went to my Lord and told him so: whereupon he directed me to take him after dinner; and so away I home, leaving my Lord mightily concerned for me. I to the office, and there sat busy all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and from the ’Change over with Alsopp and the others to the Pope’s Head tavern, and there stayed a quarter of an hour, and concluded upon this, that in case I got them no more than 3s. per week per man I should have of them but £150 per ann., but to have it without any adventure or charge, but if I got them 3s. 2d., then they would give me £300 in the like manner. So I directed them to draw up their tender in a line or two against the afternoon, and to meet me at Whitehall. So I left them, and I to my Lord Chancellor’s; and there coming out after dinner I accosted him, telling him that I was the unhappy Pepys that had fallen into his high displeasure, and come to desire him to give me leave to make myself better understood to his Lordship, assuring him of my duty and service. He answered me very pleasingly, that he was confident upon the score of my Lord Sandwich’s character of me, but that he had reason to think what he did, and desired me to call upon him some evening: I named tonight, and he accepted of it. So with my heart light I to Whitehall, and there after understanding by a stratagem, and yet appearing wholly desirous not to understand Mr. Gauden’s price when he desired to show it me, I went down and ordered matters in our tender so well that at the meeting by and by I was ready with Mr. Gauden’s and his, both directed him a letter to me to give the board their two tenders, but there being none but the General Monk and Mr. Coventry and Povy and I, I did not think fit to expose them to view now, but put it off till Saturday, and so with good content rose. Thence I to the Half Moone, against the ’Change, to acquaint Lanyon and his friends of our proceedings, and thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, and there heard several tryals, wherein I perceive my Lord is a most able and ready man. After all done, he himself called, “Come, Mr. Pepys, you and I will take a turn in the garden.” So he was led downstairs, having the gout, and there walked with me, I think, above an houre, talking most friendly, yet cunningly. I told him clearly how things were; how ignorant I was of his Lordship’s concernment in it; how I did not do nor say one word singly, but what was done was the act of the whole Board. He told me by name that he was more angry with Sir G. Carteret than with me, and also with the whole body of the Board. But thinking who it was of the Board that knew him least, he did place his fear upon me; but he finds that he is indebted to none of his friends there. I think I did thoroughly appease him, till he thanked me for my desire and pains to satisfy him; and upon my desiring to be directed who I should of his servants advise with about this business, he told me nobody, but would be glad to hear from me himself. He told me he would not direct me in anything, that it might not be said that the Lord Chancellor did labour to abuse the King; or (as I offered) direct the suspending the Report of the Purveyors but I see what he means, and I will make it my worke to do him service in it. But, Lord! to see how he is incensed against poor Deane, as a fanatic rogue, and I know not what: and what he did was done in spite to his Lordship, among all his friends and tenants. He did plainly say that he would not direct me in anything, for he would not put himself into the power of any man to say that he did so-and-so; but plainly told me as if he would be glad I did something. Lord! to see how we poor wretches dare not do the King good service for fear of the greatness of these men. He named Sir G. Carteret, and Sir J. Minnes, and the rest; and that he was as angry with them all as me. But it was pleasant to think that, while he was talking to me, comes into the garden Sir G. Carteret; and my Lord avoided speaking with him, and made him and many others stay expecting him, while I walked up and down above an houre, I think; and would have me walk with my hat on. And yet, after all this, there has been so little ground for this his jealousy of me, that I am sometimes afeard that he do this only in policy to bring me to his side by scaring me; or else, which is worse, to try how faithful I would be to the King; but I rather think the former of the two. I parted with great assurance how I acknowledged all I had to come from his Lordship; which he did not seem to refuse, but with great kindness and respect parted. So I by coach home, calling at my Lord’s, but he not within. At my office late, and so home to eat something, being almost starved for want of eating my dinner today, and so to bed, my head being full of great and many businesses of import to me.
. Up, and to my Lord Sandwich’s; where he sent for me up, and I did give my Lord an account of what had passed with my Lord Chancellor yesterday; with which he was well pleased, and advised me by all means to study in the best manner I could to serve him in this business. After this discourse ended, he begun to tell me that he had now pitched upon his day of going to sea upon Monday next, and that he would now give me an account how matters are with him. He told me that his work now in the world is only to keep up his interest at Court, having little hopes to get more considerably, he saying that he hath now about £8,000 per annum. It is true, he says, he oweth about £10,000; but he hath been at great charges in getting things to this pass in his estate; besides his building and good goods that he hath bought. He says he hath now evened his reckonings at the Wardrobe till Michaelmas last, and hopes to finish it to Ladyday before he goes. He says now there is due, too, £7,000 to him there, if he knew how to get it paid, besides £2,000 that Mr. Montagu do owe him. As to his interest, he says that he hath had all the injury done him that ever man could have by another bosom friend that knows all his secrets, by Mr. Montagu; but he says that the worst of it all is past, and he gone out and hated, his very person by the King, and he believes the more upon the score of his carriage to him; nay, that the Duke of York did say a little while since in his closet, that he did hate him because of his ungrateful carriage to my Lord of Sandwich. He says that he is as great with the Chancellor, or greater, than ever in his life. That with the King he is the like; and told me an instance, that whereas he formerly was of the private council to the King before he was last sicke, and that by the sickness an interruption was made in his attendance upon him; the King did not constantly call him, as he used to do, to his private council, only in businesses of the sea and the like; but of late the King did send a message to him by Sir Harry Bennet, to excuse the King to my Lord that he had not of late sent for him as he used to do to his private council, for it was not out of any distaste, but to avoid giving offence to some others whom he did not name; but my Lord supposes it might be Prince Rupert, or it may be only that the King would rather pass it by an excuse, than be thought unkind: but that now he did desire him to attend him constantly, which of late he hath done, and the King never more kind to him in his life than now. The Duke of York, as much as is possible; and in the business of late, when I was to speak to my Lord about his going to sea, he says that he finds the Duke did it with the greatest ingenuity and love in the world; “and whereas,” says my Lord, “here is a wise man hard by that thinks himself so, and would be thought so, and it may be is in a degree so (naming by and by my Lord Crew), would have had me condition with him that neither Prince Rupert nor anybody should come over his head, and I know not what.” The Duke himself hath caused in his commission, that he be made Admiral of this and what other ships or fleets shall hereafter be put out after these; which is very noble. He tells me in these cases, and that of Mr. Montagu’s, and all others, he finds that bearing of them patiently is his best way, without noise or trouble, and things wear out of themselves and come fair again. But, says he, take it from me, never to trust too much to any man in the world, for you put yourself into his power; and the best seeming friend and real friend as to the present may have or take occasion to fall out with you, and then out comes all. Then he told me of Sir Harry Bennet, though they were always kind, yet now it is become to an acquaintance and familiarity above ordinary, that for these months he hath done no business but with my Lord’s advice in his chamber, and promises all faithful love to him and service upon all occasions. My Lord says, that he hath the advantage of being able by his experience to help and advise him; and he believes that that chiefly do invite Sir Harry to this manner of treating him. “Now,” says my Lord, “the only and the greatest embarras that I have in the world is, how to behave myself to Sir H. Bennet and my Lord Chancellor, in case that there do lie anything under the embers about my Lord Bristoll, which nobody can tell; for then,” says he, “I must appear for one or other, and I will lose all I have in the world rather than desert my Lord Chancellor: so that,” says he, “I know not for my life what to do in that case.” For Sir H. Bennet’s love is come to the height, and his confidence, that he hath given my Lord a character,2217 and will oblige my Lord to correspond with him. “This,” says he, “is the whole condition of my estate and interest; which I tell you, because I know not whether I shall see you again or no.” Then as to the voyage, he thinks it will be of charge to him, and no profit; but that he must not now look after nor think to increase, but study to make good what he hath, that what is due to him from the Wardrobe or elsewhere may be paid, which otherwise would fail, and all a man hath be but small content to him. So we seemed to take leave one of another; my Lord of me, desiring me that I would write to him and give him information upon all occasions in matters that concern him; which, put together with what he preambled with yesterday, makes me think that my Lord do truly esteem me still, and desires to preserve my service to him; which I do bless God for. In the middle of our discourse my Lady Crew came in to bring my Lord word that he hath another son,2218 my Lady being brought to bed just now, I did not think her time had been so nigh, but she’s well brought to bed, for which God be praised! and send my Lord to study the laying up of something the more! Then with Creed to St. James’s, and missing Mr. Coventry, to Whitehall; where, staying for him in one of the galleries, there comes out of the chair-room Mrs. Stewart, in a most lovely form, with her hair all about her ears, having her picture taking there. There was the King and twenty more, I think, standing by all the while, and a lovely creature she in this dress seemed to be. Thence to the ’Change by coach, and so home to dinner and then to my office. In the evening Mr. Hill, Andrews and I to my chamber to sing, which we did very pleasantly, and then to my office again, where very late and so home, with my mind I bless God in good state of ease and body of health, only my head at this juncture very full of business, how to get something. Among others what this rogue Creed will do before he goes to sea, for I would fain be rid of him and see what he means to do, for I will then declare myself his firm friend or enemy.
. Up in the morning, my head mightily confounded with the great deal of business I have upon me to do. But to the office, and there dispatched Mr. Creed’s business pretty well about his bill; but then there comes W. Howe for my Lord’s bill of Imprest for £500 to carry with him this voyage, and so I was at a loss how to carry myself in it, Creed being there, but there being no help I delivered it to them both, and let them contend, when I perceive they did both endeavour to have it, but W. Howe took it, and the other had the discretion to suffer it. But I think I cleared myself to Creed that it past not from any practice of mine. At noon rose and did some necessary business at the ’Change. Thence to Trinity House to a dinner which Sir G. Carteret makes there as Maister this year. Thence to Whitehall to the Tangier Committee, and there, above my expectation, got the business of our contract for the victualling carried for my people, viz., Alsopp, Lanyon, and Yeabsly; and by their promise I do thereby get £300 per annum to myself, which do overjoy me; and the matter is left to me to draw up. Mr. Lewes was in the gallery and is mightily amazed at it, and I believe Mr. Gauden will make some stir about it, for he wrote to Mr. Coventry today about it to argue why he should for the King’s convenience have it, but Mr. Coventry most justly did argue freely for them that served cheapest. Thence walked a while with Mr. Coventry in the gallery, and first find that he is mighty cold in his present opinion of Mr. Peter Pett for his flagging and doing things so lazily there, and he did also surprise me with a question why Deane did not bring in their report of the timber of Clarendon. What he means thereby I know not, but at present put him off; nor do I know how to steer myself: but I must think of it, and advise with my Lord Sandwich. Thence with Creed by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there I got Mr. Moore to give me my Lord’s hand for my receipt of £109 more of my money of Sir G. Carteret, so that then his debt to me will be under £500, I think. This do ease my mind also. Thence carried him and W. Howe into London, and set them down at Sir G. Carteret’s to receive some money, and I home and there busy very late, and so home to supper and to bed, with my mind in pretty good ease, my business being in a pretty good condition everywhere.
. All the morning at my office doing business there, it raining hard. So dined at home alone. After dinner walked to my Lord’s, and there found him and much other guests at table at dinner, and it seems they have christened his young son today—called him James. I got a piece of cake. I got my Lord to signe and seale my business about my selling of Brampton land, which though not so full as I would, yet is as full as I can at present. Walked home again, and there fell to read, and by and by comes my uncle Wight, Dr. Burnett, and another gentleman, and talked and drank, and the Doctor showed me the manner of eating turpentine, which pleases me well, for it is with great ease. So they being gone, I to supper and to bed.
. Up, and walked to my Lord’s, and there took my leave of him, he seeming very friendly to me in as serious a manner as ever in his life, and I believe he is very confident of me. He sets out this morning for Deale. Thence to St. James’s to the Duke, and there did our usual business. He discourses very freely of a war with Holland, to begin about winter, so that I believe we shall come to it. Before we went up to the Duke, Sir G. Carteret and I did talk together in the Park about my Lord Chancellor’s business of the timber; he telling me freely that my Lord Chancellor was never so angry with him in all his life, as he was for this business, in great passion; and that when he saw me there, he knew what it was about. And plots now with me how we may serve my Lord, which I am mightily glad of; and I hope together we may do it. Thence to Westminster to my barber’s, to have my Periwig he lately made me cleansed of its nits, which vexed me cruelly that he should put such a thing into my hands. Here meeting his maid Jane, that has lived with them so long, I talked with her, and sending her of an errand to Dr. Clerk’s, did meet her, and took her into a little alehouse in Brewers Yard,2219 and there did sport with her, without any knowledge of her though, and a very pretty innocent girl she is. Thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, but he being busy I went away to the ’Change, and so home to dinner. By and by comes Creed, and I out with him to Fleet Street, and he to Mr. Povy’s, I to my Lord Chancellor’s, and missing him again walked to Povy’s, and there saw his new perspective in his closet. Povy, to my great surprise and wonder, did here attack me in his own and Mr. Bland’s behalf that I should do for them both for the new contractors for the victualling of the garrison. Which I am ashamed that he should ask of me, nor did I believe that he was a man that did seek benefit in such poor things. Besides that he professed that he did not believe that I would have any hand myself in the contract, and yet here declares that he himself would have profit by it, and himself did move me that Sir W. Rider might join, and Ford with Gauden. I told him I had no interest in them, but I fear they must do something to him, for he told me that those of the Mole did promise to consider him. Thence home and Creed with me, and there he took occasion to own his obligations to me, and did lay down twenty pieces in gold upon my shelf in my closet, which I did not refuse, but wish and expected should have been more. But, however, this is better than nothing, and now I am out of expectation, and shall henceforward know how to deal with him. After discourse of settling his matters here, we went out by coach, and he ’light at the Temple, and there took final leave of me, in order to his following my Lord tomorrow. I to my Lord Chancellor, and discoursed his business with him. I perceive, and he says plainly, that he will not have any man to have it in his power to say that my Lord Chancellor did contrive the wronging the King of his timber; but yet I perceive, he would be glad to have service done him therein; and told me Sir G. Carteret hath told him that he and I would look after his business to see it done in the best manner for him. Of this I was glad, and so away. Thence home, and late with my Tangier men about drawing up their agreement with us, wherein I find much trouble, and after doing as much as we could tonight, broke up and I to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon dined alone at home. After dinner Sir W. Batten and I down by water to Woolwich, where coming to the ropeyarde we are told that Mr. Falconer, who hath been ill of a relapse these two days, is just now dead. We went up to his widow, who is sicke in bed also. The poor woman in great sorrow, and entreats our friendship, which we shall, I think, in everything do for her. I am sure I will. Thence to the Docke, and there in Sheldon’s garden eat some fruit; so to Deptford a little, and thence home, it raining mightily, and being cold I doubted my health after it. At the office till 9 o’clock about Sir W. Warren’s contract for masts, and then at home with Lanyon and Yeabsly till 12 and past about their contract for Tangier, wherein they and I differed, for I would have it drawn to the King’s advantage, as much as might be, which they did not like, but parted good friends; however, when they were gone, I wished that I had forborne any disagreement till I had had their promise to me in writing. They being gone, I to bed.
. Up, and a while to my office, and then home with Mr. Deane till dinner, discoursing upon the business of my Lord Chancellor’s timber in Clarendon Park, and how to make a report therein without offending him; which at last I drew up, and hope it will please him. But I would to God neither I nor he ever had had anything to have done with it! Dined together with a good pig, and then out by coach to Whitehall, to the Committee for Fishing; but nothing done, it being a great day today there upon drawing at the Lottery2220 of Sir Arthur Slingsby. I got in and stood by the two Queenes and the Duchess of York, and just behind my Lady Castlemayne, whom I do heartily adore; and good sport it was to see how most that did give their ten pounds did go away with a pair of globes only for their lot, and one gentlewoman, one Mrs. Fish, with the only blanke. And one I stayed to see drew a suit of hangings valued at £430, and they say are well worth the money, or near it. One other suit there is better than that; but very many lots of three and fourscore pounds. I observed the King and Queenes did get but as poor lots as any else. But the wisest man I met with was Mr. Cholmley, who insured as many as would, from drawing of the one blank for 12d.; in which case there was the whole number of persons to one, which I think was three or four hundred. And so he insured about 200 for 200 shillings, so that he could not have lost if one of them had drawn it, for there was enough to pay the £10; but it happened another drew it, and so he got all the money he took. I left the lottery, and went to a play, only a piece of it, which was the Duke’s house, Worse and Worse;2221 just the same manner of play, and writ, I believe, by the same man as The Adventures of Five Hours;2222 very pleasant it was, and I begin to admire Harris more than ever. Thence to Westminster to see Creed, and he and I took a walk in the Park. He is ill, and not able yet to set out after my Lord, but will do tomorrow. So home, and late at my office, and so home to bed. This evening being moonshine I played a little late upon my flageolet in the garden. But being at Westminster Hall I met with great news that Mrs. Lane is married to one Martin, one that serves Captain Marsh. She is gone abroad with him today, very fine. I must have a bout with her very shortly to see how she finds marriage.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, among other things making a contract with Sir W. Warren2223 for almost 1,000 Gottenburg masts, the biggest that ever was made in the Navy, and wholly of my compassing and a good one I hope it is for the King. Dined at Sir W. Batten’s, where I have not eat these many months. Sir G. Carteret, Mr. Coventry, Sir J. Minnes, and myself there only, and my Lady. A good venison pasty, and very merry, and pleasant I made myself with my Lady, and she as much to me. This morning to the office comes Nicholas Osborne, Mr. Gauden’s clerke, to desire of me what piece of plate I would choose to have a £100, or thereabouts, bestowed upon me in, he having order to lay out so much; and, out of his freedom with me, do of himself come to make this question. I a great while urged my unwillingness to take any, not knowing how I could serve Mr. Gauden, but left it wholly to himself; so at noon I find brought home in fine leather cases, a pair of the noblest flagons that ever I saw all the days of my life; whether I shall keepe them or no I cannot tell; for it is to oblige me to him in the business of the Tangier victualling, wherein I doubt I shall not; but glad I am to see that I shall be sure to get something on one side or other, have it which will: so, with a merry heart, I looked upon them, and locked them up. After dinner to [give] my Lord Chancellor a good account of his business, and he is very well pleased therewith, and carries himself with great discretion to me, without seeming over glad or beholding to me; and yet I know that he do think himself very well served by me. Thence to Westminster and to Mrs. Lane’s lodgings, to give her joy, and there suffered me to deal with her as I hoped to do, and by and by her husband comes, a sorry, simple fellow, and his letter to her which she proudly showed me a simple, nonsensical thing. A man of no discourse, and I fear married her to make a prize of, which he is mistaken in, and a sad wife I believe she will prove to him, for she urged me to appoint a time as soon as he is gone out of town to give her a meeting next week. So by water with a couple of cousins of Mrs. Lane’s, and set them down at Queenhive, and I through Bridge home, and there late at business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where busy all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, and then down by water to Deptford, where coming too soon, I spent an houre in looking round the yarde, and putting Mr. Shish2224 to measure a piece or two of timber, which he did most cruelly wrong, and to the King’s losse 12 or 13s. in a piece of 28 feet in contents. Thence to the Clerke of the Cheques, from whose house Mr. Falconer was buried today; Sir J. Minnes and I the only principal officers that were there. We walked to church with him, and then I left them without staying the sermon and straight home by water, and there find, as I expected, Mr. Hill, and Andrews, and one slovenly and ugly fellow, Seignor Pedro, who sings Italian songs to the theorbo most neatly, and they spent the whole evening in singing the best piece of music counted of all hands in the world, made by Seignor Charissimi,2225 the famous master in Rome. Fine it was, indeed, and too fine for me to judge of. They have spoke to Pedro to meet us every weeke, and I fear it will grow a trouble to me if we once come to bid judges to meet us, especially idle Masters, which do a little displease me to consider. They gone comes Mr. Lanyon, who tells me Mr. Alsopp is now become dangerously ill, and fears his recovery, covery, which shakes my expectation of £630 per annum by the business; and, therefore, bless God for what Mr. Gauden hath sent me, which, from some discourse today with Mr. Osborne, swearing that he knows not anything of this business of the victualling; but, the contrary, that it is not that moves Mr. Gauden to send it me, for he hath had order for it any time these two months. Whether this be true or no, I know not; but I shall hence with the more confidence keepe it. To supper and to the office a little, and to walk in the garden, the moon shining bright, and fine warm fair weather, and so home to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon to the ’Change, where I took occasion to break the business of my Lord Chancellor’s timber to Mr. Coventry in the best manner I could. He professed to me, that, till, Sir G. Carteret did speake of it at the table, after our officers were gone to survey it, he did not know that my Lord Chancellor had anything to do with it; but now he says that he had been told by the Duke that Sir G. Carteret had spoke to him about it, and that he had told the Duke that, were he in my Lord Chancellor’s case, if he were his father, he would rather fling away the gains of two or £3,000, than have it said that the timber, which should have been the King’s, if it had continued the Duke of Albemarle’s, was concealed by us in favour of my Lord Chancellor; for, says he, he is a great man, and all such as he, and he himself particularly, have a great many enemies that would be glad of such an advantage against him. When I told him it was strange that Sir J. Minnes and Sir G. Carteret, that knew my Lord Chancellor’s concernment therein, should not at first inform us, he answered me that for Sir J. Minnes, he is looked upon to be an old good companion, but by nobody at the other end of the town as any man of business, and that my Lord Chancellor, he dares say, never did tell him of it, only Sir G. Carteret, he do believe, must needs know it, for he and Sir J. Shaw are the greatest confidants he hath in the world. So for himself, he said, he would not mince the matter, but was resolved to do what was fit, and stand upon his own legs therein, and that he would speak to the Duke, that he and Sir G. Carteret might be appointed to attend my Lord Chancellor in it. All this disturbs me mightily. I know not what to say to it, nor how to carry myself therein; for a compliance will discommend me to Mr. Coventry, and a discompliance to my Lord Chancellor. But I think to let it alone, or at least meddle in it as little more as I can. From thence walked toward Westminster, and being in an idle and wanton humour, walked through Fleet Alley, and there stood a most pretty wench at one of the doors, so I took a turn or two, but what by sense of honour and conscience I would not go in, but much against my will took coach and away, and away to Westminster Hall, and there ’light of Mrs. Lane, and plotted with her to go over the water. So met at White’s stairs in Chanel Row, and over to the old house at Lambeth Marsh, and there eat and drank, and had my pleasure of her twice, she being the strangest woman in talk of love to her husband sometimes, and sometimes again she do not care for him, and yet willing enough to allow me a liberty of doing what I would with her. So spending 5s. or 6s. upon her, I could do what I would, and after an hour’s stay and more back again and set her ashore there again, and I forward to Fleet Street, and called at Fleet Alley, not knowing how to command myself, and went in and there saw what formerly I have been acquainted with, the wickedness of these houses, and the forcing a man to present expense. The woman indeed is a most lovely woman, but I had no courage to meddle with her for fear of her not being wholesome, and so counterfeiting that I had not money enough, it was pretty to see how cunning she was, would not suffer me to have to do in any manner with her after she saw I had no money, but told me then I would not come again, but she now was sure I would come again, but I hope in God I shall not, for though she be one of the prettiest women I ever saw, yet I fear her abusing me. So desiring God to forgive me for this vanity, I went home, taking some books from my bookseller, and taking his lad home with me, to whom I paid £10 for books I have laid up money for, and laid out within these three weeks, and shall do no more a great while I hope. So to my office writing letters, and then home and to bed, weary of the pleasure I have had today, and ashamed to think of it.
. Up, in some pain all day from yesterday’s passages, having taken cold, I suppose. So stayed within all day reading of two or three good plays. At night to my office a little, and so home, after supper to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten by coach to St. James’s, but there the Duke being gone out we to my Lord Berkeley’s chamber, Mr. Coventry being there, and among other things there met with a printed copy of the King’s commission for the repair of Paul’s,2226 which is very large, and large power for collecting money, and recovering of all people that had bought or sold formerly anything belonging to the Church. And here I find my Lord Mayor of the City set in order before the Archbishop or any nobleman, though all the greatest officers of state are there. But yet I do not hear by my Lord Berkeley, who is one of them, that anything is like to come of it. Thence back again homewards, and Sir W. Batten and I to the Coffeehouse, but no news, only the plague is very hot still, and increases among the Dutch. Home to dinner, and after dinner walked forth, and do what I could I could not keep myself from going through Fleet Lane, but had the sense of safety and honour not to go in, and the rather being a holiday I feared I might meet with some people that might know me. Thence to Charing Cross, and there called at Unthanke’s to see what I owed, but found nothing, and here being a couple of pretty ladies, lodgers in the kitchen, I stayed a little there. Thence to my barber Gervas, who this day buries his child, which it seems was born without a passage behind, so that it never voided anything in the week or fortnight that it has been born. Thence to Mr. Reeves, it coming just now in my head to buy a microscope, but he was not within, so I walked all round that end of the town among the loathsome people and houses, but, God be thanked! had no desire to visit any of them. So home, where I met Mr. Lanyon, who tells me Mr. Alsop is past hopes, which will mightily disappoint me in my hopes there, and yet it may be not. I shall think whether it will be safe for me to venture myself or no, and come in as an adventurer. He gone, Mr. Cole (my old Jack Cole) comes to see and speak with me, and his errand in short to tell me that he is giving over his trade; he can do no good in it, and will turn what he has into money and go to sea, his father being dead and leaving him little, if anything. This I was sorry to hear, he being a man of good parts, but, I fear, debauched. I promised him all the friendship I can do him, which will end in little, though I truly mean it, and so I made him stay with me till 11 at night, talking of old school stories, and very pleasing ones, and truly I find that we did spend our time and thoughts then otherwise than I think boys do now, and I think as well as methinks that the best are now. He supped with me, and so away, and I to bed. And strange to see how we are all divided that were bred so long at school together, and what various fortunes we have run, some good, some bad.
. All the morning at the office, at noon to Anthony Joyce’s, to our gossip’s dinner. I had sent a dozen and a half of bottles of wine thither, and paid my double share besides, which is 18s. Very merry we were, and when the women were merry and rose from table, I above with them, ne’er a man but I, I began discourse of my not getting of children, and prayed them to give me their opinions and advice, and they freely and merrily did give me these ten, among them
Do not hug my wife too hard nor too much;
eat no late suppers;
drink juice of sage;
tent and toast;
wear cool holland drawers;
keep stomach warm and back cool;
upon query whether it was best to do at night or morn, they answered me neither one nor other, but when we had most mind to it;
wife not to go too straight laced;
myself to drink mum and sugar;
Mrs. Ward did give me, to change my place.
The 3rd, 4th, 6th, 7th, and 10th they all did seriously declare, and lay much stress upon them as rules fit to be observed indeed, and especially the last, to lie with our heads where our heels do, or at least to make the bed high at feet and low at head. Very merry all, as much as I could be in such sorry company. Great discourse of the fray yesterday in Moorefields, how the butchers at first did beat the weavers (between whom there hath been ever an old competition for mastery), but at last the weavers rallied and beat them. At first the butchers knocked down all for weavers that had green or blue aprons, till they were fain to pull them off and put them in their breeches. At last the butchers were fain to pull off their sleeves, that they might not be known, and were soundly beaten out of the field, and some deeply wounded and bruised; till at last the weavers went out tryumphing, calling £100 for a butcher. I to Mr. Reeves to see a microscope, he having been with me today morning, and there chose one which I will have. Thence back and took up young Mrs. Harman, a pretty bred and pretty humoured woman whom I could love well, though not handsome, yet for her person and carriage, and black. By the way met her husband going for her, and set them both down at home, and so home to my office a while, and so to supper and bed.
. Up, and after some discourse with Mr. Duke, who is to be Secretary to the Fishery,2227 and is now Secretary to the Committee for Trade, who I find a very ingenious man, I went to Mr. Povy’s, and there heard a little of his empty discourse, and fain he would have Mr. Gauden been the victualler for Tangier, which none but a fool would say to me when he knows he hath made it his request to me to get him something of these men that now do it. Thence to St. James’s, but Mr. Coventry being ill and in bed I did not stay, but to Whitehall a little, walked up and down, and so home to fit papers against this afternoon, and after dinner to the ’Change a little, and then to Whitehall, where anon the Duke of York came, and a Committee we had of Tangier, where I read over my rough draught of the contract for Tangier victualling, and acquainted them with the death of Mr. Alsopp, which Mr. Lanyon had told me this morning, which is a sad consideration to see how uncertain a thing our lives are, and how little to be presumed of in our greatest undertakings. The words of the contract approved of, and I home and there came Mr. Lanyon to me and brought my neighbour, Mr. Andrews, to me, whom he proposes for his partner in the room of Mr. Alsopp, and I like well enough of it. We read over the contract together, and discoursed it well over and so parted, and I am glad to see it once over in this condition again, for Mr. Lanyon and I had some discourse today about my share in it, and I hope if it goes on to have my first hopes of £300 per ann. They gone, I to supper and to bed. This afternoon came my great store of Coals in, being 10 Chaldron, so that I may see how long they will last me.
. At the office all the morning, dined, after ’Change, at home, and then abroad, and seeing The Bondman2228 upon the posts, I consulted my oaths and find I may go safely this time without breaking it; I went thither, notwithstanding my great desire to have gone to Fleet Alley, God forgive me, again. There I saw it acted. It is true, for want of practice, they had many of them forgot their parts a little; but Betterton and my poor Ianthe outdo all the world. There is nothing more taking in the world with me than that play. Thence to Westminster to my barber’s, and strange to think how when I find that Jervas himself did intend to bring home my periwig, and not Jane his maid, I did desire not to have it at all, for I had a mind to have her bring it home. I also went to Mr. Blagrave’s about speaking to him for his kinswoman to come live with my wife, but they are not come to town, and so I home by coach and to my office, and then to supper and to bed. My present posture is thus: my wife in the country and my maid Besse with her and all quiet there. I am endeavouring to find a woman for her to my mind, and above all one that understands music, especially singing. I am the willinger to keepe one because I am in good hopes to get 2 or £300 per annum extraordinary by the business of the victualling of Tangier, and yet Mr. Alsopp, my chief hopes, is dead since my looking after it, and now Mr. Lanyon, I fear, is, falling sicke too. I am pretty well in health, only subject to wind upon any cold, and then immediate and great pains. All our discourse is of a Dutch war and I find it is likely to come to it, for they are very high and desire not to compliment us at all, as far as I hear, but to send a good fleet to Guinea to oppose us there. My Lord Sandwich newly gone to sea, and I, I think, fallen into his very good opinion again, at least he did before his going, and by his letter since, show me all manner of respect and confidence. I am overjoyed in hopes that upon this month’s account I shall find myself worth £1,000, besides the rich present of two silver and gilt flagons which Mr. Gauden did give me the other day. I do now live very prettily at home, being most seriously, quietly, and neatly served by my two maids Jane and the girl Su, with both of whom I am mightily well pleased. My greatest trouble is the settling of Brampton Estate, that I may know what to expect, and how to be able to leave it when I die, so as to be just to my promise to my uncle Thomas and his son. The next thing is this cursed trouble my brother Tom is likely to put us to by his death, forcing us to law with his creditors, among others Dr. Tom Pepys, and that with some shame as trouble, and the last how to know in what manner as to saving or spending my father lives, lest they should run me in debt as one of my uncle’s executors, and I never the wiser nor better for it. But in all this I hope shortly to be at leisure to consider and inform myself well.
. At the office all the morning dispatching of business, at noon to the ’Change after dinner, and thence to Tom Trice about Dr. Pepys’s business, and thence it raining turned into Fleet Alley, and there was with Cocke an hour or so. The jade, whether I would not give her money or not enough; she would not offer to invite to do anything, but on the contrary saying she had no time, which I was glad of, for I had no mind to meddle with her, but had my end to see what a cunning jade she was, to see her impudent tricks and ways of getting money and raising the reckoning by still calling for things, that it come to 6 or 7 shillings presently. So away home, glad I escaped without any inconvenience, and there came Mr. Hill, Andrews and Seignor Pedro, and great store of music we had, but I begin to be weary of having a master with us, for it spoils, methinks, the ingenuity of our practice. After they were gone comes Mr. Bland to me, sat till 11 at night with me, talking of the garrison of Tangier and serving them with pieces of eight. A mind he hath to be employed there, but dares not desire any courtesy of me, and yet would fain engage me to be for him, for I perceive they do all find that I am the busy man to see the King have right done him by inquiring out other bidders. Being quite tired with him, I got him gone, and so to bed.
. All the morning at the office; at noon to the ’Change, where great talk of a rich present brought by an East India ship from some of the Princes of India, worth to the King £70,000 in two precious stones. After dinner to the office, and there all the afternoon making an end of several things against the end of the month, that I may clear all my reckonings tomorrow; also this afternoon, with great content, I finished the contracts for victualling of Tangier with Mr. Lanyon and the rest, and to my comfort got him and Andrews to sign to the giving me £300 per annum, by which, at least, I hope to be a £100 or two the better. Wrote many letters by the post to ease my mind of business and to clear my paper of minutes, as I did lately oblige myself to clear everything against the end of the month. So at night with my mind quiet and contented to bed. This day I sent a side of venison and six bottles of wine to Kate Joyce.
. Up, and to church, where I have not been these many weeks. So home, and thither, inviting him yesterday, comes Mr. Hill, at which I was a little troubled, but made up all very well, carrying him with me to Sir J. Minnes, where I was invited and all our families to a venison pasty. Here good cheer and good discourse. After dinner Mr. Hill and I to my house, and there to music all the afternoon. He being gone, in the evening I to my accounts, and to my great joy and with great thanks to Almighty God, I do find myself most clearly worth £1,014, the first time that ever I was worth £1,000 before, which is the height of all that ever I have for a long time pretended to. But by the blessing of God upon my care I hope to lay up something more in a little time, if this business of the victualling of Tangier goes on as I hope it will. So with praise to God for this state of fortune that I am brought to as to wealth, and my condition being as I have at large set it down two days ago in this book, I home to supper and to bed, desiring God to give me the grace to make good use of what I have and continue my care and diligence to gain more.
August 1664
. Up, my mind very light from my last night’s accounts, and so up and with Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and Sir W. Penn to St. James’s, where among other things having prepared with some industry every man a part this morning and no sooner (for fear they should either consider of it or discourse of it one to another) Mr. Coventry did move the Duke and obtain it that one of the clerkes of the Clerke of the Acts should have an addition of £30 a year, as Mr. Turner hath, which I am glad of, that I may give T. Hater £20 and keep £10 towards a boy’s keeping. Thence Mr. Coventry and I to the Attorney’s chamber at the Temple, but not being there we parted, and I home, and there with great joy told T. Hater what I had done, with which the poor wretch was very glad, though his modesty would not suffer him to say much. So to the Coffeehouse, and there all the house full of the victory General Soushe2229 (who is a Frenchman, a soldier of fortune, commanding part of the German army) hath had against the Turke; killing 4,000 men, and taking most extraordinary spoil. Thence taking up Harman and his wife, carried them to Anthony Joyce’s, where we had my venison in a pasty well done; but, Lord! to see how much they made of it, as if they had never eat any before, and very merry we were, but Will most troublesomely so, and I find he and his wife have a most wretched life one with another, but we took no notice, but were very merry as I could be in such company. But Mrs. Harman is a very pretty-humoured wretch, whom I could love with all my heart, being so good and innocent company. Thence to Westminster to Mr. Blagrave’s, and there, after singing a thing or two over, I spoke to him about a woman for my wife, and he offered me his kinswoman, which I was glad of, but she is not at present well, but however I hope to have her. Thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, and thence with Mr. Coventry, who appointed to meet me there, and with him to the Attorney General, and there with Sir Ph. Warwicke consulted of a new commission to be had through the Broad Seale to enable us to make this contract for Tangier victualling. So home, and there talked long with Will about the young woman of his family which he spoke of for to live with my wife, but though she hath very many good qualities, yet being a neighbour’s child and young and not very staid, I dare not venture of having her, because of her being able to spread any report of our family upon any discontent among the heart of our neighbours. So that my dependence is upon Mr. Blagrave, and so home to supper and to bed. Last night, at 12 o’clock, I was waked with knocking at Sir W. Penn’s door; and what was it but people’s running up and down to bring him word that his brother,2230 who hath been a good while, it seems, sicke, is dead.
. At the office all the morning. At noon dined, and then to the ’Change, and there walked two hours or more with Sir W. Warren, who after much discourse in general of Sir W. Batten’s dealings, he fell to talk how everybody must live by their places, and that he was willing, if I desired it, that I should go shares with him in anything that he deals in. He told me again and again, too, that he confesses himself my debtor too for my service and friendship to him in his present great contract of masts, and that between this and Christmas he shall be in stocke and will pay it me. This I like well, but do not desire to become a merchant, and, therefore, put it off, but desired time to think of it. Thence to the King’s playhouse, and there saw Bartholomew Fair, which do still please me; and is, as it is acted, the best comedy in the world, I believe. I chanced to sit by Tom Killigrew, who tells me that he is setting up a Nursery;2231 that is, is going to build a house in Moorefields, wherein he will have common plays acted. But four operas it shall have in the year, to act six weeks at a time; where we shall have the best scenes and machines, the best music, and everything as magnificent as is in Christendome; and to that end hath sent for voices and painters and other persons from Italy. Thence homeward called upon my Lord Marlborough, and so home and to my office, and then to Sir W. Penn, and with him and our fellow officers and servants of the house and none else to Church to lay his brother in the ground, wherein nothing handsome at all, but that he lays him under the Communion table in the chancel, about nine at night.2232 So home and to bed.
. Up betimes and set some joiners on work to new lay my floor in our wardrobe, which I intend to make a room for music. Thence abroad to Westminster, among other things to Mr. Blagrave’s, and there had his consent for his kinswoman to come to be with my wife for her woman, at which I am well pleased and hope she may do well. Thence to Whitehall to meet with Sir G. Carteret about hiring some ground to make our mast docke at Deptford, but being Council morning failed, but met with Mr. Coventry, and he and I discoursed of the likeliness of a Dutch war, which I think is very likely now, for the Dutch do prepare a fleet to oppose us at Guinea, and he do think we shall, though neither of us have a mind to it, fall into it of a sudden, and yet the plague do increase among them, and is got into their fleet, and Opdam’s own ship, which makes it strange they should be so high. Thence to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and down by water to Woolwich to the rope yard, and there visited Mrs. Falconer, who tells me odd stories of how Sir W. Penn was rewarded by her husband with a gold watch (but seems not certain of what Sir W. Batten told me, of his daughter having a life given her in £80 per ann.) for his helping him to his place, and yet cost him £150 to Mr. Coventry besides. He did much advise it seems Mr. Falconer not to marry again, expressing that he would have him make his daughter his heire, or words to that purpose, and that that makes him, she thinks, so cold in giving her any satisfaction, and that W. Boddam hath publicly said, since he came down thither to be clerke of the ropeyard, that it hath this week cost him £100, and would be glad that it would cost him but half as much more for the place, and that he was better before than now, and that if he had been to have bought it, he would not have given so much for it. Now I am sure that Mr. Coventry hath again and again said that he would take nothing, but would give all his part in it freely to him, that so the widow might have something. What the meaning of this is I know not, but that Sir W. Penn do get something by it. Thence to the Dockeyard, and there saw the new ship in great forwardness. So home and to supper, and then to the office, where late, Mr. Bland and I talking about Tangier business, and so home to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, fitting myself against a great dispute about the East India Company, which spent afterwards with us all the morning. At noon dined with Sir W. Penn, a piece of beef only, and I counterfeited a friendship and mirth which I cannot have with him, yet out with him by his coach, and he did carry me to a play and pay for me at the King’s house, which is The Rivall Ladies,2233 a very innocent and most pretty witty play. I was much pleased with it, and it being given me,2234 I look upon it as no breach to my oathe. Here we hear that Clun,2235 one of their best actors, was, the last night, going out of town (after he had acted The Alchymist, wherein was one of his best parts that he acts) to his country-house, set upon and murdered; one of the rogues taken, an Irish fellow. It seems most cruelly butchered and bound. The house will have a great miss of him. Thence visited my Lady Sandwich, who tells me my Lord FitzHarding2236 is to be made a Marquis. Thence home to my office late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes and set my plaisterer to work about whiting and colouring my music roome, which having with great pleasure seen done, about ten o’clock I dressed myself, and so mounted upon a very pretty mare, sent me by Sir W. Warren, according to his promise yesterday. And so through the City, not a little proud, God knows, to be seen upon so pretty a beast, and to my cousin W. Joyce’s, who presently mounted too, and he and I out of town toward Highgate; in the way, at Kentish-town, showing me the place and manner of Clun’s being killed and laid in a ditch, and yet was not killed by any wounds, having only one in his arm, but bled to death through his struggling. He told me, also, the manner of it, of his going home so late [from] drinking with his whore, and manner of having it found out. Thence forward to Barnett, and there drank, and so by night to Stevenage, it raining a little, but not much, and there to my great trouble, find that my wife was not come, nor any Stamford coach gone down this week, so that she cannot come. So vexed and weary, and not thoroughly out of pain neither in my old parts, I after supper to bed, and after a little sleep, W. Joyce comes in his shirt into my chamber, with a note and a messenger from my wife, that she was come by Yorke coach to Bigglesworth, and would be with us tomorrow morning. So, mightily pleased at her discreete action in this business, I with peace to sleep again till next morning. So up, and …
… here lay Deane Honiwood last night. I met and talked with him this morning, and a simple priest he is, though a good, well-meaning man. W. Joyce and I to a game at bowls on the green there till eight o’clock, and then comes my wife in the coach, and a coach full of women, only one man riding by, gone down last night to meet a sister of his coming to town. So very joyful drank there, not ’lighting, and we mounted and away with them to Welling,2237 and there ’light, and dined very well and merry and glad to see my poor-wife. Here very merry as being weary I could be, and after dinner, out again, and to London. In our way all the way the mightiest merry, at a couple of young gentlemen, come down to meet the same gentlewoman, that ever I was in my life, and so W. Joyce too, to see how one of them was horsed upon a hard-trotting sorrell horse, and both of them soundly weary and galled. But it is not to be set down how merry we were all the way. We ’light in Holborne, and by another coach my wife and maid home, and I by horseback, and found all things well and most mighty neate and clean. So, after welcoming my wife a little, to the office, and so home to supper, and then weary and not very well to bed.
. Lay long caressing my wife and talking, she telling me sad stories of the ill, improvident, disquiet, and sluttish manner that my father and mother and Pall live in the country, which troubles me mightily, and I must seek to remedy it. So up and ready, and my wife also, and then down and I showed my wife, to her great admiration and joy, Mr. Gauden’s present of plate, the two flagons, which indeed are so noble that I hardly can think that they are yet mine. So blessing God for it, we down to dinner mighty pleasant, and so up after dinner for a while, and I then to Whitehall, walked thither, having at home met with a letter of Captain Cooke’s, with which he had sent a boy for me to see, whom he did intend to recommend to me. I therefore went and there met and spoke with him. He gives me great hopes of the boy, which pleases me, and at Chapel I there met Mr. Blagrave, who gives a report of the boy, and he showed me him, and I spoke to him, and the boy seems a good willing boy to come to me, and I hope will do well. I am to speak to Mr. Townsend to hasten his clothes for him, and then he is to come. So I walked homeward and met with Mr. Spong, and he with me as far as the Old Exchange talking of many ingenuous2238 things, music, and at last of glasses, and I find him still the same ingenuous man that ever he was, and do among other fine things tell me that by his microscope of his own making he do discover that the wings of a moth is made just as the feathers of the wing of a bird, and that most plainly and certainly. While we were talking came by several poor creatures carried by, by constables, for being at a conventicle. They go like lambs, without any resistance. I would to God they would either conform, or be more wise, and not be catched! Thence parted with him, mightily pleased with his company, and away homeward, calling at Dan Rawlinson, and supped there with my uncle Wight, and then home and eat again for form sake with her, and then to prayers and to bed.
. Up and abroad with Sir W. Batten, by coach to St. James’s, where by the way he did tell me how Sir J. Minnes would many times arrogate to himself the doing of that that all the Board have equal share in, and more that to himself which he hath had nothing to do in, and particularly the late paper given in by him to the Duke, the translation of a Dutch print concerning the quarrel between us and them, which he did give as his own when it was Sir Richard Ford’s wholly. Also he told me how Sir W. Penn (it falling in our discourse touching Mrs. Falconer) was at first very great for Mr. Coventry to bring him in guests, and that at high rates for places, and very open was he to me therein. After business done with the Duke, I home to the Coffeehouse, and so home to dinner, and after dinner to hang up my fine pictures in my dining room, which makes it very pretty, and so my wife and I abroad to the King’s playhouse, she giving me her time of the last month, she having not seen any then; so my vowe is not broke at all, it costing me no more money than it would have done upon her, had she gone both her times that were due to her. Here we saw Flora’s Figarys.2239 I never saw it before, and by the most ingenuous performance of the young jade Flora, it seemed as pretty a pleasant play as ever I saw in my life. So home to supper, and then to my office late, Mr. Andrews and I to talk about our victualling commission, and then he being gone I to set down my four days past journals and expenses, and so home to bed.
. Up, and to my office, and there we sat all the morning, at noon home, and there by appointment Mr. Blagrave came and dined with me, and brought a friend of his of the Chapel with him. Very merry at dinner, and then up to my chamber and there we sung a Psalm or two of Lawes’s, then he and I a little talk by ourselves of his kinswoman that is to come to live with my wife, who is to come about ten days hence, and I hope will do well. They gone I to my office, and there my head being a little troubled with the little wine I drank, though mixed with beer, but it may be a little more than I used to do, and yet I cannot say so, I went home and spent the afternoon with my wife talking, and then in the evening a little to my office, and so home to supper and to bed. This day comes the news that the Emperour hath beat the Turke;2240 killed the Grand Vizier and several great Bassas, with an army of 80,000 men killed and routed; with some considerable loss of his own side, having lost three generals, and the French forces all cut off almost. Which is thought as good a service to the Emperour as beating the Turke almost, for had they conquered they would have been as troublesome to him.2241
. Up, and, being ready, abroad to do several small businesses, among others to find out one to engrave my tables upon my new sliding rule with silver plates, it being so small that Browne that made it cannot get one to do it. So I find out Cocker,2242 the famous writing-master, and get him to do it, and I set an hour by him to see him design it all; and strange it is to see him with his natural eyes to cut so small at his first designing it, and read it all over, without any missing, when for my life I could not, with my best skill, read one word or letter of it; but it is use. But he says that the best light for his life to do a very small thing by (contrary to Chaucer’s words to the Sun, “that he should lend his light to them that small seals grave”),2243 it should be by an artificial light of a candle, set to advantage, as he could do it. I find the fellow, by his discourse, very ingenuous; and among other things, a great admirer and well read in all our English poets, and undertakes to judge of them all, and that not impertinently. Well pleased with his company and better with his judgement upon my Rule, I left him and home, whither Mr. Deane by agreement came to me and dined with me, and by chance Gunner Batters’s wife. After dinner Deane and I [had] great discourse again about my Lord Chancellor’s timber, out of which I wish I may get well. Thence I to Cocker’s again, and sat by him with good discourse again for an hour or two, and then left him, and by agreement with Captain Silas Taylor (my old acquaintance at the Exchequer) to the Post Office2244 to hear some instrument music of Mr. Berchenshaw’s before my Lord Brunkard2245 and Sir Robert Murray. I must confess, whether it be that I hear it but seldom, or that really voice is better, but so it is that I found no pleasure at all in it, and methought two voices were worth twenty of it. So home to my office a while, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and through pain, to my great grief forced to wear my gown to keep my legs warm. At the office all the morning, and there a high dispute against Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn about the breadth of canvas again, they being for the making of it narrower, I and Mr. Coventry and Sir J. Minnes for the keeping it broader. So home to dinner, and by and by comes Mr. Creed, lately come from the Downs, and dined with me. I show him a good countenance, but love him not for his base ingratitude to me. However, abroad, carried my wife to buy things at the New Exchange, and so to my Lady Sandwich’s, and there merry, talking with her a great while, and so home, whither comes Cocker with my rule, which he hath engraved to admiration, for goodness and smallness of work: it cost me 14s. the doing, and mightily pleased I am with it. By and by, he gone, comes Mr. Moore and stayed talking with me a great while about my Lord’s businesses, which I fear will be in a bad condition for his family if my Lord should miscarry at sea. He gone, I late to my office, and cannot forbear admiring and consulting my new rule, and so home to supper and to bed. This day, for a wager before the King, my Lords of Castlehaven and Arran (a son of my Lord of Ormond’s), they two alone did run down and kill a stoute bucke in St. James’s park.
. Up, and all the morning busy at the office with Sir W. Warren about a great contract for New England masts, where I was very hard with him, even to the making him angry, but I thought it fit to do it as well as just for my own [and] the King’s behalf. At noon to the ’Change a little, and so to dinner and then out by coach, setting my wife and maid down, going to Stevens the silversmith to change some old silver lace and to go buy new silke lace for a petticoat; I to Whitehall and did much business at a Tangier Committee; where, among other things, speaking about propriety of the houses there, and how we ought to let the Portugeses2246 have right done them, as many of them as continue, or did sell the houses while they were in possession, and something further in their favour, the Duke in an anger I never observed in him before, did cry, says he, “All the world rides us, and I think we shall never ride anybody.” Thence home, and, though late, yet Pedro being there, he sang a song and parted. I did give him 5s., but find it burdensome and so will break up the meeting. At night is brought home our poor Fancy, which to my great grief continues lame still, so that I wish she had not been brought ever home again, for it troubles me to see her.
. Up, and before I went to the office comes my Taylor with a coat I have made to wear within doors, purposely to come no lower than my knees, for by my wearing a gown within doors comes all my tenderness about my legs. There comes also Mr. Reeve, with a microscope and scotoscope.2247 For the first I did give him £5 10s., a great price, but a most curious bauble it is, and he says, as good, nay, the best he knows in England, and he makes the best in the world. The other he gives me, and is of value; and a curious curiosity it is to look objects in a dark room with. Mightly pleased with this I to the office, where all the morning. There offered by Sir W. Penn his coach to go to Epsum and carry my wife, I stepped out and bade my wife make her ready, but being not very well and other things advising me to the contrary, I did forbear going, and so Mr. Creed dining with me I got him to give my wife and me a play this afternoon, lending him money to do it, which is a fallacy that I have found now once, to avoid my vowe with, but never to be more practised I swear, and to the new play, at the Duke’s house, of Henry the Fifth;2248 a most noble play, writ by my Lord Orrery; wherein Betterton, Harris, and Ianthe’s parts are most incomparably wrote and done, and the whole play the most full of height and raptures of wit and sense, that ever I heard; having but one incongruity, or what did not please me in it, that is, that King Harry promises to plead for Tudor to their Mistress, Princess Katherine of France, more than when it comes to it he seems to do; and Tudor refused by her with some kind of indignity, not with a difficulty and honour that it ought to have been done in to him. Thence home and to my office, wrote by the post, and then to read a little in Dr. Power’s book of discovery2249 by the Microscope to enable me a little how to use and what to expect from my glasse. So to supper and to bed.
. After long lying discoursing with my wife, I up, and comes Mr. Holliard to see me, who concurs with me that my pain is nothing but cold in my legs breeding wind, and got only by my using to wear a gown, and that I am not at all troubled with any ulcer, but my thickness of water comes from my overheat in my back. He gone, comes Mr. Herbert, Mr. Honiwood’s man, and dined with me, a very honest, plain, well-meaning man, I think him to be; and by his discourse and manner of life, the true embleme of an old ordinary serving-man. After dinner up to my chamber and made an end of Dr. Power’s booke of the Microscope, very fine and to my content, and then my wife and I with great pleasure, but with great difficulty before we could come to find the manner of seeing anything by my microscope. At last did with good content, though not so much as I expect when I come to understand it better. By and by comes W. Joyce, in his silke suit, and cloake lined with velvet: stayed talking with me, and I very merry at it. He supped with me; but a cunning, crafty fellow he is, and dangerous to displease, for his tongue spares nobody. After supper I up to read a little, and then to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to St. James’s, and there did our business with the Duke, who tells us more and more signs of a Dutch war, and how we must presently set out a fleet for Guinea, for the Dutch are doing so, and there I believe the war will begin. Thence home with him again, in our way he talking of his cures abroad, while he was with the King as a doctor, and above all men the pox. And among others, Sir J. Denham he told me he had cured, after it was come to an ulcer all over his face, to a miracle. To the Coffeehouse I, and so to the ’Change a little, and then home to dinner with Creed, whom I met at the Coffeehouse, and after dinner by coach set him down at the Temple, and I and my wife to Mr. Blagrave’s. They being none of them at home, I to the Hall, leaving her there, and thence to the Trumpet, whither came Mrs. Lane, and there begins a sad story how her husband, as I feared, proves not worth a farthing, and that she is with child and undone, if I do not get him a place. I had my pleasure here of her, and she, like an impudent jade, depends upon my kindness to her husband, but I will have no more to do with her, let her brew as she has baked, seeing she would not take my counsel about Hawly. After drinking we parted, and I to Blagrave’s, and there discoursed with Mrs. Blagrave about her kinswoman, who it seems is sickly even to franticness sometimes, and among other things chiefly from love and melancholy upon the death of her servant2250 insomuch that she telling us all most simply and innocently I fear she will not be able to come to us with any pleasure, which I am sorry for, for I think she would have pleased us very well. In comes he, and so to sing a song and his niece with us, but she sings very meanly. So through the Hall and thence by coach home, calling by the way at Charing Crosse, and there saw the great Dutchman that is come over, under whose arm I went with my hat on, and could not reach higher than his eye-browes with the tip of my fingers, reaching as high as I could. He is a comely and well-made man, and his wife a very little, but pretty comely Dutch woman. It is true, he wears pretty high-heeled shoes, but not very high, and do generally wear a turbant, which makes him show yet taller than really he is, though he is very tall, as I have said before. Home to my office, and then to supper, and then to my office again late, and so home to bed, my wife and I troubled that we do not speed better in this business of her woman.
. Wakened about two o’clock this morning with the noise of thunder, which lasted for an houre, with such continued lightnings, not flashes, but flames, that all the sky and air was light; and that for a great while, not a minute’s space between new flames all the time; such a thing as I never did see, nor could have believed had ever been in nature. And being put into a great sweat with it, could not sleep till all was over. And that accompanied with such a storm of rain as I never heard in my life. I expected to find my house in the morning overflowed with the rain breaking in, and that much hurt must needs have been done in the city with this lightning; but I find not one drop of rain in my house, nor any news of hurt done. But it seems it has been here and all up and down the country hereabouts the like tempest, Sir W. Batten saying much of the greatness thereof at Epsum. Up and all the morning at the office. At noon busy at the ’Change about one business or other, and thence home to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon very busy, and so to supper anon, and then to my office again a while, collecting observations out of Dr. Power’s booke of Microscopes, and so home to bed, very stormy weather tonight for winde. This day we had news that my Lady Penn is landed and coming hither, so that I hope the family will be in better order and more neate than it hath been.
. Up, and going to Sir W. Batten to speak to him about business, he did give me three bottles of his Epsum water, which I drank and it wrought well with me, and did give me many good stools, and I found myself mightily cooled with them and refreshed. Thence I to Mr. Honiwood and my father’s old house, but he was gone out, and there I stayed talking with his man Herbert, who tells me how Langford and his wife are very foul-mouthed people, and will speak very ill of my father, calling him old rogue in reference to the hard penniworths he sold him of his goods when the rogue need not have bought any of them. So that I am resolved he shall get no more money by me, but it vexes me to think that my father should be said to go away in debt himself, but that I will cause to be remedied whatever comes of it. Thence to my Lord Crew, and there with him a little while. Before dinner talked of the Dutch war, and find that he do much doubt that we shall fall into it without the money or consent of Parliament, that is expected or the reason of it that is fit to have for every war. Dined with him, and after dinner talked with Sir Thomas Crew, who told me how Mr. Edward Montagu is forever blown up, and now quite out with his father again;2251 to whom he pretended that his going down was, not that he was cast out of the Court, but that he had leave to be absent a month; but now he finds the truth. Thence to my Lady Sandwich, where by agreement my wife dined, and after talking with her I carried my wife to Mr. Pierce’s and left her there, and so to Captain Cooke’s, but he was not at home, but I there spoke with my boy Tom Edwards, and directed him to go to Mr. Townsend (with whom I was in the morning) to have measure taken of his clothes to be made him there out of the Wardrobe, which will be so done, and then I think he will come to me. Thence to Whitehall, and after long staying there was no Committee of the Fishery as was expected. Here I walked long with Mr. Pierce, who tells me the King do still sup every night with my Lady Castlemayne, who he believes has lately slunk a great belly away, for from very big she is come to be down again. Thence to Mrs. Pierce’s, and with her and my wife to see Mrs. Clarke, where with him and her very merry discoursing of the late play of Henry the 5th, which they conclude the best that ever was made, but confess with me that Tudor’s being dismissed in the manner he is is a great blemish to the play. I am mightily pleased with the Doctor, for he is the only man I know that I could learn to pronounce by, which he do the best that ever I heard any man. Thence home and to the office late, and so to supper and to bed. My Lady Penn came hither first tonight to Sir W. Penn’s lodgings.
. Lay too long in bed, till 8 o’clock, then up and Mr. Reeve came and brought an anchor and a very fair loadstone. He would have had me bought it, and a good stone it is, but when he saw that I would not buy it he said he [would] leave it for me to sell for him. By and by he comes to tell me that he had present occasion for £6 to make up a sum, and that he would pay me in a day or two, but I had the unusual wit to deny him, and so by and by we parted, and I to the office, where busy all the morning sitting. Dined alone at home, my wife going today to dine with Mrs. Pierce, and thence with her and Mrs. Clerke to see a new play, The Court Secret.2252 I busy all the afternoon, toward evening to Westminster, and there in the Hall a while, and then to my barber, willing to have any opportunity to speak to Jane, but wanted it. So to Mrs. Pierce’s, who was come home, and she and Mrs. Clerke busy at cards, so my wife being gone home, I home, calling by the way at the Wardrobe and met Mr. Townsend, Mr. Moore and others at the Tavern thereby, and thither I to them and spoke with Mr. Townsend about my boy’s clothes, which he says shall be soon done, and then I hope I shall be settled when I have one in the house that is musicall. So home and to supper, and then a little to my office, and then home to bed. My wife says the play she saw is the worst that ever she saw in her life.
. Up and to the office, where Mr. Coventry and Sir W. Penn and I sat all the morning hiring of ships to go to Guinea, where we believe the war with Holland will first break out. At noon dined at home, and after dinner my wife and I to Sir W. Penn’s, to see his Lady,2253 the first time, who is a well-looked, fat, short, old Dutchwoman, but one that hath been heretofore pretty handsome, and is now very discreet, and, I believe, hath more wit than her husband. Here we stayed talking a good while, and very well pleased I was with the old woman at first visit. So away home, and I to my office, my wife to go see my aunt Wight, newly come to town. Creed came to me, and he and I out, among other things, to look out a man to make a case, for to keep my stone, that I was cut of, in, and he to buy Daniel’s history,2254 which he did, but I missed of my end. So parted upon Ludgate Hill, and I home and to the office, where busy till supper, and home to supper to a good dish of fritters, which I bespoke, and were done much to my mind. Then to the office a while again, and so home to bed. The news of the Emperour’s victory over the Turkes is by some doubted, but by most confessed to be very small (though great) of what was talked, which was 80,000 men to be killed and taken of the Turke’s side.
. Up and to the office a while, but this day the Parliament meeting only to be adjourned to November (which was done, accordingly), we did not meet, and so I forth to bespeak a case to be made to keep my stone in, which will cost me 25s. Thence I walked to Cheapside, there to see the effect of a fire there this morning, since four o’clock; which I find in the house of Mr. Bois, that married Dr. Fuller’s niece, who are both out of town, leaving only a maid and man in town. It begun in their house, and hath burned much and many houses backward, though none forward; and that in the great uniform pile of buildings in the middle of Cheapside. I am very sorry for them, for the Doctor’s sake. Thence to the ’Change, and so home to dinner. And thence to Sir W. Batten’s, whither Sir Richard Ford came, the Sheriffe, who hath been at this fire all the while; and he tells me, upon my question, that he and the Mayor2255 were there, as it is their duties to be, not only to keep the peace, but they have power of commanding the pulling down of any house or houses, to defend the whole City. By and by comes in the Common Cryer of the City to speak with him; and when he was gone, says he, “You may see by this man the constitution of the Magistracy of this City; that this fellow’s place, I dare give him (if he will be true to me) £1,000 for his profits every year, and expect to get £500 more to myself thereby. When,” says he, “I in myself am forced to spend many times as much.” By and by came Mr. Coventry, and so we met at the office, to hire ships for Guinea, and that done broke up. I to Sir W. Batten’s, there to discourse with Mrs. Falconer, who hath been with Sir W. Penn this evening, after Mr. Coventry had promised her half what W. Bodham had given him for his place, but Sir W. Penn, though he knows that, and that Mr. Bodham hath said that his place hath cost him £100 and would £100 more, yet is he so high against the poor woman that he will not hear to give her a farthing, but it seems do listen after a lease where he expects Mr. Falconer hath put in his daughter’s life, and he is afraid that that is not done, and did tell Mrs. Falconer that he would see it and know what is done therein in spite of her, when, poor wretch, she neither do nor can hinder him the knowing it. Mr. Coventry knows of this business of the lease, and I believe do think of it as well as I. But the poor woman is gone home without any hope, but only Mr. Coventry’s own nobleness. So I to my office and wrote many letters, and so to supper and to bed.
. Waked about 4 o’clock with my wife, having a looseness, and peoples coming in the yard to the pump to draw water several times, so that fear of this day’s fire made me fearful, and called Besse and sent her down to see, and it was Griffin’s maid for water to wash her house. So to sleep again, and then lay talking till 9 o’clock. So up and drunk three bottles of Epsum water, which wrought well with me. I all the morning and most of the afternoon after dinner putting papers to rights in my chamber, and the like in the evening till night at my office, and renewing and writing fair over my vowes. So home to supper, prayers, and to bed. Mr. Coventry told us the Duke was gone ill of a fit of an ague to bed; so we sent this morning to see how he do.2256
. Up and abroad, doing very many errands to my great content which lay as burdens upon my mind and memory. Home to dinner, and so to Whitehall, setting down my wife at her father’s, and I to the Tangier Committee, where several businesses I did to my mind, and with hopes thereby to get something. So to Westminster Hall, where by appointment I had made I met with Dr. Tom Pepys, but avoided all discourse of difference with him, though much against my will, and he like a doting coxcomb as he is, said he could not but demand his money, and that he would have his right, and that let all anger be forgot, and such sorry stuff, nothing to my mind, but only I obtained this satisfaction, that he told me about Sturbridge2257 last was 12 months or 2 years he was at Brampton, and there my father did tell him that what he had done for my brother in giving him his goods and setting him up as he had done was upon condition that he should give my brother John £20 per ann., which he charged upon my father, he tells me in answer, as a great deal of hard measure that he should expect that with him that had a brother so able as I am to do that for him. This is all that he says he can say as to my father’s acknowledging that he had given Tom his goods. He says his brother Roger will take his oath that my father hath given him thanks for his counsel for his giving of Tom his goods and setting him up in the manner that he hath done, but the former part of this he did not speak fully so bad nor as certain what he could say. So we walked together to my cousin Joyce’s, where my wife stayed for me, and then I home and her by coach, and so to my office, then to supper and to bed.
. Lay long talking with my wife, and angry awhile about her desiring to have a French maid all of a sudden, which I took to arise from yesterday’s being with her mother. But that went over and friends again, and so she be well qualitied, I care not much whether she be French or no, so a Protestant. Thence to the office, and at noon to the ’Change, where very busy getting ships for Guinea and for Tangier. So home to dinner, and then abroad all the afternoon doing several errands, to comply with my oath of ending many businesses before Bartholomew’s day, which is two days hence. Among others I went into New Bridewell, in my way to Mr. Cole, and there I saw the new model, and it is very handsome. Several at work, among others, one pretty whore brought in last night, which works very lazily. I did give them 6d. to drink, and so away. To Graye’s Inn, but missed Mr. Cole, and so homeward called at Harman’s, and there bespoke some chairs for a room, and so home, and busy late, and then to supper and to bed. The Dutch East India Fleet are now come home safe, which we are sorry for. Our Fleets on both sides are hastening out to Guinea.
. Up by six o’clock, and to my office with Tom Hater dispatching business in haste. At nine o’clock to Whitehall about Mr. Maes’s business at the Council, which stands in an ill condition still. Thence to Graye’s Inn, but missed of Mr. Cole the lawyer, and so walked home, calling among the joiners in Wood Street to buy a table and bade in many places, but did not buy it till I come home to see the place where it is to stand, to judge how big it must be. So after ’Change home and a good dinner, and then to Whitehall to a Committee of the Fishery, where my Lord Craven and Mr. Gray mightily against Mr. Creed’s being joined in the warrant for Secretary with Mr. Duke. However I did get it put off till the Duke of York was there, and so broke up doing nothing. So walked home, first to the Wardrobe, and there saw one suit of clothes made for my boy and linen set out, and I think to have him the latter end of this week, and so home, Mr. Creed walking the greatest part of the way with me advising what to do in his case about his being Secretary to us in conjunction with Duke, which I did give him the best I could, and so home and to my office, where very much business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office after I had spoke to my tailor, Langford (who came to me about some work), desiring to know whether he knew of any debts that my father did owe of his own in the City. He tells me, “No, not any.” I did on purpose try him because of what words he and his wife have said of him (as Herbert told me the other day), and further did desire him, that if he knew of any or could hear of any that he should bid them come to me, and I would pay them, for I would not that because he do not pay my brother’s debts that therefore he should be thought to deny the payment of his own. All the morning at the office busy. At noon to the ’Change, among other things busy to get a little by the hire of a ship for Tangier. So home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr. Cooke to see me; it is true he was kind to me at sea in carrying messages to and fro to my wife from sea, but I did do him kindnesses too, and therefore I matter not much to compliment or make any regard of his thinking me to slight him as I do for his folly about my brother Tom’s mistress. After dinner and some talk with him, I to my office; there busy, till by and by Jacke Noble came to me to tell me that he had Cave in prison, and that he would give me and my father good security that neither we nor any of our family should be troubled with the child; for he could prove that he was fully satisfied for him; and that if the worst came to the worst, the parish must keep it; that Cave did bring the child to his house, but they got it carried back again, and that thereupon he put him in prison. When he saw that I would not pay him the money, nor made anything of being secured against the child, he then said that then he must go to law, not himself, but come in as a witness for Cave against us. I could have told him that he could bear witness that Cave is satisfied, or else there is no money due to himself; but I let alone any such discourse, only getting as much out of him as I could. I perceive he is a rogue, and hath inquired into everything and consulted with Dr. Pepys, and that he thinks as Dr. Pepys told him that my father if he could would not pay a farthing of the debts, and yet I made him confess that in all his lifetime he never knew my father to be asked for money twice, nay, not once, all the time he lived with him, and that for his own debts he believed he would do so still, but he meant only for those of Tom. He said now that Randall and his wife and the midwife could prove from my brother’s own mouth that the child was his, and that Tom had told them the circumstances of time, upon November 5th at night, that he got it on her. I offered him if he would secure my father against being forced to pay the money again I would pay him, which at first he would do, give his own security, and when I asked more than his own he told me yes he would, and those able men, subsidy men, but when we came by and by to discourse of it again he would not then do it, but said he would take his course, and join with Cave and release him, and so we parted. However, this vexed me so as I could not be quiet, but took coach to go speak with Mr. Cole, but met him not within, so back, buying a table by the way, and at my office late, and then home to supper and to bed, my mind disordered about this roguish business—in everything else, I thank God, well at ease.
. Up by 5 o’clock, which I have not been many a day, and down by water to Deptford, and there took in Mr. Pumpfield the rope-maker, and down with him to Woolwich to view Clothier’s cordage, which I found bad and stopped the receipt of it. Thence to the ropeyard, and there among other things discoursed with Mrs. Falconer, who tells me that she has found the writing, and Sir W. Penn’s daughter is not put into the lease for her life as he expected, and I am glad of it. Thence to the Dockyarde, and there saw the new ship in very great forwardness, and so by water to Deptford a little, and so home and shifting myself, to the ’Change, and there did business, and thence down by water to Whitehall, by the way, at the Three Cranes, putting into an alehouse and eat a bit of bread and cheese. There I could not get into the Park, and so was fain to stay in the gallery over the gate to look to the passage into the Park, into which the King hath forbid of late anybody’s coming, to watch his coming that had appointed me to come, which he did by and by with his lady and went to Guardener’s Lane,2258 and there instead of meeting with one that was handsome and could play well, as they told me, she is the ugliest beast and plays so basely as I never heard anybody, so that I should loathe her being in my house. However, she took us by and by and showed us indeed some pictures at one Hiseman’s,2259 a picture drawer, a Dutchman, which is said to exceed Lilly, and indeed there is both of the Queenes and Maids of Honour (particularly Mrs. Stewart’s2260 in a buff doublet like a soldier) as good pictures, I think, as ever I saw. The Queen is drawn in one like a shepherdess, in the other like St. Katharin,2261 most like and most admirably. I was mightily pleased with this sight indeed, and so back again to their lodgings, where I left them, but before I went this mare that carried me, whose name I know not but that they call him Sir John, a pitiful fellow, whose face I have long known but upon what score I know not, but he could have the confidence to ask me to lay down money for him to renew the lease of his house, which I did give ear to there because I was there receiving a civility from him, but shall not part with my money. There I left them, and I by water home, where at my office busy late, then home to supper, and so to bed. This day my wife tells me Mr. Penn,2262 Sir William’s son, is come back from France, and come to visit her. A most modish person, grown, she says, a fine gentleman.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and there almost made my bargain about a ship for Tangier, which will bring me in a little profit with Captain Taylor. Off the ’Change with Mr. Cutler and Sir W. Rider to Cutler’s house, and there had a very good dinner, and two or three pretty young ladies of their relations there. Thence to my case-maker for my stone case, and had it to my mind, and cost me 24s., which is a great deal of money, but it is well done and pleases me. So doing some other small errands I home, and there find my boy, Tom Edwards,2263 come, sent me by Captain Cooke, having been bred in the King’s Chapel these four years. I propose to make a clerke of him, and if he deserves well, to do well by him. Spent much of the afternoon to set his chamber in order, and then to the office leaving him at home, and late at night after all business was done I called Will and told him my reason of taking a boy, and that it is of necessity, not out of any unkindness to him, nor should be to his injury, and then talked about his landlord’s daughter to come to my wife, and I think it will be. So home and find my boy a very schoole boy, that talks innocently and impertinently, but at present it is a sport to us, and in a little time he will leave it. So sent him to bed, he saying that he used to go to bed at eight o’clock, and then all of us to bed, myself pretty well pleased with my choice of a boy. All the news this day is, that the Dutch are, with twenty-two sail of ships of war, crewsing up and down about Ostend; at which we are alarmed. My Lord Sandwich is come back into the Downs with only eight sail, which is or may be a prey to the Dutch, if they knew our weakness and inability to set out any more speedily.
. Up the first time I have had great while. Home to dined, and with my boy alone to church anybody to attend me to church a dinner, and there met Creed, who, and we merry together, as his learning is such and judgment that I cannot but be pleased with it. After dinner I took him to church, into our gallery, with me, but slept the best part of the sermon, which was a most silly one. So he and I to walk to the ’Change a while, talking from one pleasant discourse to another, and so home, and thither came my uncle Wight and aunt, and supped with us mighty merry. And Creed lay with us all night, and so to bed, very merry to think how Mr. Holliard (who came in this evening to see me) makes nothing, but proving as a most clear thing that Rome is Antichrist.
. Up betimes, intending to do business at my office, by 5 o’clock, but going out met at my door Mr. Hughes come to speak with me about office business, and told me that as he came this morning from Deptford he left the King’s yarde afire. So I presently took a boat and down, and there found, by God’s providence, the fire out; but if there had been any wind it must have burned all our stores, which is a most dreadful consideration. But leaving all things well I home, and out abroad doing many errands, Mr. Creed also out, and my wife to her mother’s, and Creed and I met at my Lady Sandwich’s and there dined; but my Lady is become as handsome, I think, as ever she was; and so good and discreet a woman I know not in the world. After dinner I to Westminster to Jervas’s a while, and so doing many errands by the way, and necessary ones, I home, and thither came the woman with her mother which our Will recommends to my wife. I like her well, and I think will please us. My wife and they agreed, and she is to come the next week. At which I am very well contented, for then I hope we shall be settled, but I must remember that, never since I was housekeeper, I ever lived so quietly, without any noise or one angry word almost, as I have done since my present maids Besse, Jane, and Susan came and were together. Now I have taken a boy and am taking a woman, I pray God we may not be worse, but I will observe it. After being at my office a while, home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where sat long, and at noon to dinner at home; after dinner comes Mr. Penn to visit me, and stayed an houre talking with me. I perceive something of learning he hath got, but a great deal, if not too much, of the vanity of the French garbe and affected manner of speech and gait. I fear all real profit he hath made of his travel will signify little. So, he gone, I to my office and there very busy till late at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up by five o’clock and to my office, where T. Hater and Will met me, and so we dispatched a great deal of my business as to the ordering my papers and books which were behindhand. All the morning very busy at my office. At noon home to dinner, and there my wife hath got me some pretty good oysters, which is very soon and the soonest, I think, I ever eat any. After dinner I up to hear my boy play upon a lute, which I have this day borrowed of Mr. Hunt; and indeed the boy would, with little practice, play very well upon the lute, which pleases me well. So by coach to the Tangier Committee, and there have another small business by which I may get a little small matter of money. Stayed but little there, and so home and to my office, where late casting up my monthly accounts, and, blessed be God! find myself worth £1,020, which is still the most I ever was worth. So home and to bed. Prince Rupert I hear this day is to go to command this fleet going to Guinea against the Dutch. I doubt few will be pleased with his going, being accounted an unhappy2264 man. My mind at good rest, only my father’s troubles with Dr. Pepys and my brother Tom’s creditors in general do trouble me. I have got a new boy that understands music well, as coming to me from the King’s Chapel, and I hope will prove a good boy, and my wife and I are upon having a woman, which for her content I am contented to venture upon the charge of again, and she is one that our Will finds out for us, and understands a little music, and I think will please us well, only her friends live too near us. Pretty well in health, since I left off wearing of a gown within doors all day, and then go out with my legs into the cold, which brought me daily pain.
September 1664
. A sad rainy night, up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon to the ’Change and thence brought Mr. Pierce, the Surgeon, and Creed, and dined very merry and handsomely; but my wife not being well of those she not with us; and we cut up the great cake Moorcocke lately sent us, which is very good. They gone I to my office, and there very busy till late at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes and walked (my boy with me) to Mr. Cole’s, and after long waiting below, he being under the barber’s hands, I spoke with him, and he did give me much hopes of getting my debt that my brother owed me, and also that things would go well with my father. But going to his attorney’s, that he directed me to, they tell me both that though I could bring my father to a confession of a judgment, yet he knowing that there are specialties out against him he is bound to plead his knowledge of them to me before he pays me, or else he must do it in his own wrong. I took a great deal of pains this morning in the thorough understanding hereof, and hope that I know the truth of our case, though it be but bad, yet better than to run spending money and all to no purpose. However, I will inquire a little more. Walked home, doing very many errands by the way to my great content, and at the ’Change met and spoke with several persons about serving us with pieces of eight at Tangier. So home to dinner above stairs, my wife not being well of those in bed. I dined by her bedside, but I got her to rise and abroad with me by coach to Bartholomew Fair, and our boy with us, and there showed them and myself the dancing on the ropes, and several other the best shows; but pretty it is to see how our boy carries himself so innocently clownish as would make one laugh. Here till late and dark, then up and down, to buy combes for my wife to give her maids, and then by coach home, and there at the office set down my day’s work, and then home to bed.
. I have had a bad night’s rest tonight, not sleeping well, as my wife observed, and once or twice she did wake me, and I thought myself to be mightily bit with fleas, and in the morning she chid her maids for not looking the fleas a-days. But, when I rose, I found that it is only the change of the weather from hot to cold, which, as I was two winters ago, do stop my pores, and so my blood tingles and itches all day all over my body, and so continued today all the day long just as I was then, and if it continues to be so cold I fear I must come to the same pass, but sweating cured me then, and I hope, and am told, will this also. At the office sat all the morning, dined at home, and after dinner to Whitehall, to the Fishing Committee, but not above four of us met, which could do nothing, and a sad thing it is to see so great a work so ill followed, for at this pace it can come to nothing but disgrace to us all. Broke up and did nothing. So I walked to Westminster, and there at my barber’s had good luck to find Jane alone, and there talked with her, and got the poor wretch to promise to meet me in the Abbey on tomorrow come sennight, telling me that her master and mistress have a mind to get her a husband, and so will not let her go abroad without them, but only in sermon time on Sundays she do go out. I would I could get a good husband for her, for she is one I always thought a good-natured as well as a well-looked girl. Thence home, doing errands by the way, and so to my office, whither Mr. Holliard came to me to discourse about the privileges of the Surgeons’ Hall, as to our signing of bills, wherein I did give him a little, and but a little, satisfaction; for we won’t lose our power of recommending them once approved of by the Hall. He gone I late to send by the post, etc., and so to supper and to bed. My itching and tickling continuing still, the weather continuing cold, and Mr. Holliard tells me that sweating will cure me at any time.
. Lay long in bed, then up and took physic, Mr. Holliard’s, but it being cold weather and myself negligent of myself, I fear I took cold and stopped the working of it, but I feel myself pretty well. All the morning looking over my old wardrobe and laying by things for my brother John and my father, by which I shall leave myself very bare in clothes, but yet as much as I need, and the rest would but spoile in the keeping. Dined, my wife and I very well. All the afternoon my wife and I above, and then the boy and I to singing of psalms, and then came in Mr. Hill, and he sung with us a while; and, he being gone, the boy and I again to the singing of Mr. Porter’s2265 mottets, and it is a great joy to me that I am come to this condition to maintain a person in the house able to give me such pleasure as this boy do by his thorough knowledge of music, as he sings anything at first sight. Mr. Hill came to tell me that he had got a gentlewoman for my wife, one Mrs. Ferrabosco,2266 that sings most admirably. I seemed glad of it; but I hear she is too gallant for me, and I am not sorry that I misse her. Thence to the office, setting some papers right, and so home to supper and to bed, after prayers.
. Up and to St. James’s, and there did our business with the Duke; where all our discourse of war in the highest measure. Prince Rupert was with us; who is fitting himself to go to sea in the Heneretta.2267 And afterwards in Whitehall I met him and Mr. Gray, and he spoke to me, and in other discourse, says he, “God damn me, I can answer but for one ship, and in that I will do my part; for it is not in that as in an army, where a man can command everything.” By and by to a Committee for the Fishery, the Duke of York there, where, after Duke was made Secretary, we fell to name a Committee, whereof I was willing to be one, because I would have my hand in the business, to understand it and be known in doing something in it; and so, after cutting out work for the Committee, we rose, and I to my wife to Unthanke’s, and with her from shop to shop, laying out near £10 this morning in clothes for her. And so I to the ’Change, where a while, and so home and to dinner, and thither came W. Bowyer and dined with us; but strange to see how he could not endure onyons in sauce to lamb, but was overcome with the sight of it, and so was forced to make his dinner of an egg or two. He tells us how Mrs. Lane is undone, by her marrying so bad, and desires to speak with me, which I know is wholly to get me to do something for her to get her husband a place, which he is in no wise fit for. After dinner down to Woolwich with a gally, and then to Deptford, and so home, all the way reading Sir J. Suck[l]ing’s Aglaura,2268 which, methinks, is but a mean play; nothing of design in it. Coming home it is strange to see how I was troubled to find my wife, but in a necessary compliment, expecting Mr. Penn to see her, who had been there and was by her people denied, which, he having been three times, she thought not fit he should be any more. But yet even this did raise my jealousy presently and much vex me. However, he did not come, which pleased me, and I to supper, and to the office till 9 o’clock or thereabouts, and so home to bed. My aunt James had been here today with Kate Joyce twice to see us. The second time my wife was at home, and they it seems are going down to Brampton, which I am sorry for, for the charge that my father will be put to. But it must be borne with, and my mother has a mind to see them, but I do condemn myself mightily for my pride and contempt of my aunt and kindred that are not so high as myself, that I have not seen her all this while, nor invited her all this while.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, then to my office and there waited, thinking to have had Bagwell’s wife come to me about business, that I might have talked with her, but she came not. So I to Whitehall by coach with Mr. Andrews, and there I got his contract for the victualling of Tangier signed and sealed by us there, so that all the business is well over, and I hope to have made a good business of it and to receive £100 by it the next weeke, for which God be praised! Thence to W. Joyce’s and Anthony’s, to invite them to dinner to meet my aunt James at my house, and the rather because they are all to go down to my father the next weeke, and so I would be a little kind to them before they go. So home, having called upon Doll, our pretty ’Change woman, for a pair of gloves trimmed with yellow ribbon, to [match the] petticoat my wife bought yesterday, which cost me 20s.; but she is so pretty, that, God forgive me! I could not think it too much—which is a strange slavery that I stand in to beauty, that I value nothing near it. So going home, and my coach stopping in Newgate Market over against a poulterer’s shop, I took occasion to buy a rabbit, but it proved a deadly old one when I came to eat it, as I did do after an hour being at my office, and after supper again there till past 11 at night. So home, and to bed. This day Mr. Coventry did tell us how the Duke did receive the Dutch Embassador2269 the other day; by telling him that, whereas they think us in jest, he believes that the Prince (Rupert) which goes in this fleet to Guinea2270 will soon tell them that we are in earnest, and that he himself will do the like here, in the head of the fleet here at home, and that for the meschants, which he told the Duke there were in England, which did hope to do themselves good by the King’s being at war, says he, the English have ever united all this private difference to attend foreign, and that Cromwell, notwithstanding the meschants in his time, which were the Cavaliers, did never find them interrupt him in his foreign businesses, and that he did not doubt but to live to see the Dutch as fearful of provoking the English, under the government of a King, as he remembers them to have been under that of a Coquin. I writ all this story to my Lord Sandwich tonight into the Downs, it being very good and true, word for word from Mr. Coventry today.
. Lay long today, pleasantly discoursing with my wife about the dinner we are to have for the Joyces, a day or two hence. Then up and with Mr. Margetts2271 to Limehouse to see his ground and ropeyarde there, which is very fine, and I believe we shall employ it for the Navy, for the King’s grounds are not sufficient to supply our defence if a war comes. Thence back to the ’Change, where great talk of the forwardness of the Dutch, which puts us all to a stand, and particularly myself for my Lord Sandwich, to think him to lie where he is for a sacrifice, if they should begin with us. So home and Creed with me, and to dinner, and after dinner I out to my office, taking in Bagwell’s wife, who I knew waited for me, but company came to me so soon that I could have no discourse with her, as I intended, of pleasure. So anon abroad with Creed walked to Bartholomew Fair, this being the last day, and there saw the best dancing on the ropes that I think I ever saw in my life, and so all say, and so by coach home, where I find my wife hath had her head dressed by her woman, Mercer, which is to come to her tomorrow, but my wife being to go to a christening tomorrow, she came to do her head up tonight. So a while to my office, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon dined at home, and I by water down to Woolwich by a galley, and back again in the evening. All haste made in setting out this Guinea fleet, but yet not such as will ever do the King’s business if we come to a war. My wife this afternoon being very well dressed by her new woman, Mary Mercer, a decayed merchant’s daughter that our Will helps us to, did go to the christening of Mrs. Mills, the parson’s wife’s child, where she never was before. After I was come home Mr. Povey came to me and took me out to supper to Mr. Bland’s, who is making now all haste to be gone for Tangier. Here pretty merry, and good discourse, fain to admire the knowledge and experience of Mrs. Bland, who I think as good a merchant as her husband. I went home and there find Mercer, whose person I like well, and I think will do well, at least I hope so. So to my office a while and then to bed.
. Up, and to put things in order against dinner. I out and bought several things, among others, a dozen of silver salts; home, and to the office, where some of us met a little, and then home, and at noon comes my company, namely, Anthony and Will Joyce and their wives, my aunt James newly come out of Wales, and my cousin Sarah Gyles. Her husband did not come, and by her I did understand afterwards, that it was because he was not yet able to pay me the 40s. she had borrowed a year ago of me.2272 I was as merry as I could, giving them a good dinner; but W. Joyce did so talk, that he made everybody else dumb, but only laugh at him. I forgot there was Mr. Harman and his wife, my aunt, a very good harmless woman. All their talk is of her and my two she-cousin Joyces and Will’s little boy Will (who was also here today), down to Brampton to my father’s next week, which will be trouble and charge to them, but however my father and mother desire to see them, and so let them. They eyed mightily my great cupboard of plate, I this day putting my two flagons upon my table; and indeed it is a fine sight, and better than ever I did hope to see of my own. Mercer dined with us at table, this being her first dinner in my house. After dinner left them and to Whitehall, where a small Tangier Committee, and so back again home, and there my wife and Mercer and Tom and I sat till eleven at night, singing and fiddling, and a great joy it is to see me master of so much pleasure in my house, that it is and will be still, I hope, a constant pleasure to me to be at home. The girl plays pretty well upon the harpsicon, but only ordinary tunes, but hath a good hand; sings a little, but hath a good voice and ear. My boy, a brave boy, sings finely, and is the most pleasant boy at present, while his ignorant boy’s tricks last, that ever I saw. So to supper, and with great pleasure to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I much troubled to think what the end of our great sluggishness will be, for we do nothing in this office like people able to carry on a war. We must be put out, or other people put in. Dined at home, and then my wife and I and Mercer to the Duke’s house, and there saw The Rivalls,2273 which is no excellent play, but good acting in it; especially Gosnell comes and sings and dances finely, but, for all that, fell out of the key, so that the music could not play to her afterwards, and so did Harris also go out of the tune to agree with her. Thence home and late writing letters, and this night I received, by Will, £105, the first-fruits of my endeavours in the late contract for victualling of Tangier, for which God be praised! for I can with a safe conscience say that I have therein saved the King £5,000 per annum, and yet got myself a hope of £300 per annum without the least wrong to the King. So to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church in the best manner I have gone a good while, that is to say, with my wife, and her woman, Mercer, along with us, and Tom, my boy, waiting on us. A dull sermon. Home, dined, left my wife to go to church alone, and I walked in haste being late to the Abbey at Westminster, according to promise to meet Jane Welsh, and there wearily walked, expecting her till 6 o’clock from three, but no Jane came, which vexed me, only part of it I spent with Mr. Blagrave walking in the Abbey, he telling me the whole government and discipline of Whitehall Chapel, and the caution now used against admitting any debauched persons, which I was glad to hear, though he tells me there are persons bad enough. Thence going home went by Jarvis’s, and there stood Jane at the door, and so I took her in and drank with her, her master and mistress being out of doors. She told me how she could not come to me this afternoon, but promised another time. So I walked home contented with my speaking with her, and walked to my uncle Wight’s, where they were all at supper, and among others comes fair Mrs. Margarett Wight, who indeed is very pretty. So after supper home to prayers and to bed. This afternoon, it seems, Sir J. Minnes fell sicke at church, and going down the gallery stairs fell down dead, but came to himself again and is pretty well.
. Up, and to my cousin Anthony Joyce’s, and there took leave of my aunt James, and both cousins, their wives, who are this day going down to my father’s by coach. I did give my Aunt 20s., to carry as a token to my mother, and 10s. to Pall.2274 Thence by coach to St. James’s, and there did our business as usual with the Duke; and saw him with great pleasure play with his little girl2275 like an ordinary private father of a child. Thence walked to Jervas’s, where I took Jane in the shop alone, and there heard of her, her master and mistress were going out. So I went away and came again half an hour after. In the meantime went to the Abbey, and there went in to see the tombs with great pleasure. Back again to Jane, and there upstairs and drank with her, and stayed two hours with her kissing her, but nothing more. Anon took boat and by water to the Neat Houses over against Fox Hall to have seen Greatorex dive, which Jervas and his wife were gone to see, and there I found them (and did it the rather for a pretence for my having been so long at their house), but being disappointed of some necessaries to do it I stayed not, but back to Jane, but she would not go out with me. So I to Mr. Creed’s lodgings, and with him walked up and down in the New Exchange, talking mightily of the convenience and necessity of a man’s wearing good clothes, and so after eating a mess of creame I took leave of him, he walking with me as far as Fleet Conduit, he offering me upon my request to put out some money for me into Backewell’s hands at 6 percent interest, which he seldom gives, which I will consider of, being doubtful of trusting any of these great dealers because of their mortality, but then the convenience of having one’s money, at an houre’s call is very great. Thence to my uncle Wight’s, and there supped with my wife, having given them a brave barrel of oysters of Povy’s giving me. So home and to bed.
. Up and, to the office, where sat busy all morning, dined at home and after dinner to Fishmonger’s Hall, where we met the first time upon the Fishery Committee, and many good things discoursed of concerning making of farthings, which was proposed as a way of raising money for this business, and then that of lotteries,2276 but with great confusion; but I hope we shall fall into greater order. So home again and to my office, where after doing business home and to a little music, after supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and wanting some things that should be laid ready for my dressing myself I was angry, and one thing after another made my wife give Besse warning to be gone, which the jade, whether out of fear or ill-nature or simplicity I know not, but she took it and asked leave to go forth to look a place, and did, which vexed me to the heart, she being as good a natured wench as ever we shall have, but only forgetful. At the office all the morning and at noon to the ’Change, and there went off with Sir W. Warren and took occasion to desire him to lend me £100, which he said he would let the have with all his heart presently, as he had promised me a little while ago to give me for my pains in his two great contracts for masts £100, and that this should be it. To which end I did move it to him, and by this means I hope to be, possessed of the £100 presently within 2 or 3 days. So home to dinner, and then to the office, and down to Blackwall by water to view a place found out for laying of masts, and I think it will be most proper. So home and there find Mr. Penn come to visit my wife, and stayed with them till sent for to Mr. Bland’s, whither by appointment I was to go to supper, and against my will left them together, but, God knows, without any reason of fear in my conscience of any evil between them, but such is my natural folly. Being thither come they would needs have my wife, and so Mr. Bland and his wife (the first time she was ever at my house or my wife at hers) very civilly went forth and brought her and W. Penn, and there Mr. Povy and we supped nobly and very merry, it being to take leave of Mr. Bland, who is upon going soon to Tangier. So late home and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, then to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, where Luellin dined with us, and after dinner many people came in and kept me all the afternoon, among other the Master and Wardens of Chirurgeon’s Hall, who stayed arguing their cause with me; I did give them the best answer I could, and after their being two hours with me parted, and I to my office to do business, which is much on my hands, and so late home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where all the morning very busy putting papers to rights. And among other things Mr. Gauden coming to me, I had a good opportunity to speak to him about his present, which hitherto hath been a burden to me, that I could not do it, because I was doubtful that he meant it as a temptation to me to stand by him in the business of Tangier victualling; but he clears me it was not, and that he values me and my proceedings therein very highly, being but what became me, and that what he did was for my old kindnesses to him in dispatching of his business, which I was glad to hear, and with my heart in good rest and great joy parted, and to my business again. At noon to the ’Change, where by appointment I met Sir W. Warren, and afterwards to the Sun Tavern, where he brought to me, being all alone £100 in a bag, which I offered him to give him my receipt for, but he told me, no, it was my own, which he had a little while since promised me and was glad that (as I had told him two days since) it would now do me courtesy; and so most kindly he did give it me, and I as joyfully, even out of myself, carried it home in a coach, he himself expressly taking care that nobody might see this business done, though I was willing enough to have carried a servant with me to have received it, but he advised me to do it myself. So home with it and to dinner; after dinner I forth with my boy to buy severall things, stools and andirons and candlesticks, etc., household stuff, and walked to the mathematical instrument maker in Moorefields and bought a large pair of compasses, and there met Mr. Pargiter, and he would needs have me drink a cup of horseradish ale, which he and a friend of his troubled with the stone have been drinking of, which we did and then walked into the fields as far almost as Sir G. Whitmore’s,2277 all the way talking of Russia, which, he says, is a sad place; and, though Moscow is a very great city, yet it is from the distance between house and house, and few people compared with this, and poor, sorry houses, the Emperor himself living in a wooden house, his exercise only flying a hawk at pigeons and carrying pigeons ten or twelve miles off and then laying wagers which pigeon shall come soonest home to her house. All the winter within doors, some few playing at chess, but most drinking their time away. Women live very slavishly there, and it seems in the Emperor’s court no room hath above two or three windows, and those the greatest not a yard wide or high, for warmth in winter time; and that the general cure for all diseases there is their sweating houses, or people that are poor they get into their ovens, being heated, and there lie. Little learning among things of any sort. Not a man that speaks Latin, unless the Secretary of State by chance. Mr. Pargiter and I walked to the ’Change together and there parted, and so I to buy more things and then home, and after a little at my office, home to supper and to bed. This day old Hardwicke came and redeemed a watch he had left with me in pawne for 40s. seven years ago, and I let him have it. Great talk that the Dutch will certainly be out this week, and will sail directly to Guinea, being convoyed out of the Channel with 42 sail of ships.
. Up and to the office, where Mr. Coventry very angry to see things go so coldly as they do, and I must needs say it makes me fearful every day of having some change of the office, and the truth is, I am of late a little guilty of being remiss myself of what I used to be, but I hope I shall come to my old pass again, my family being now settled again. Dined at home, and to the office, where late busy in setting all my businesses in order, and I did a very great and a very contenting afternoon’s work. This day my aunt Wight sent my wife a new scarfe, with a compliment for the many favours she had received of her, which is the several things we have sent her. I am glad enough of it, for I see my uncle is so given up to the Wights that I hope for little more of them. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church all of us. At noon comes Anthony and W. Joyce (their wives being in the country with my father) and dined with me very merry as I can be in such company. After dinner walked to Westminster (tiring them by the way, and so left them, Anthony in Cheapside and the other in the Strand), and there spent all the afternoon in the Cloisters as I had agreed with Jane Welsh, but she came not, which vexed me, staying till 5 o’clock, and then walked homeward, and by coach to the old Exchange, and thence to my aunt Wight’s, and invited her and my uncle to supper, and so home, and by and by they came, and we eat a brave barrel of oysters Mr. Povy sent me this morning, and very merry at supper, and so to prayers and to bed. Last night it seems my aunt Wight did send my wife a new scarfe, laced, as a token for her many givings to her. It is true now and then we give them some toys, as oranges, etc., but my aim is to get myself something more from my uncle’s favour than this.
. Up, my wife and I having a little anger about her woman already, she thinking that I take too much care of her at table to mind her (my wife) of cutting for her, but it soon over, and so up and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to St. James’s, and there did our business with the Duke, and thence homeward straight, calling at the Coffeehouse, and there had very good discourse with Sir ⸻ Blunt and Dr. Whistler about Egypt and other things. So home to dinner, my wife having put on today her winter new suit of moire, which is handsome, and so after dinner I did give her £15 to lay out in linen and necessaries for the house and to buy a suit for Pall, and I myself to Whitehall to a Tangier Committee, where Colonel Reames hath brought us so full and methodical an account of all matters there, that I never have nor hope to see the like of any public business while I live again. The Committee up, I to Westminster to Jervas’s, and spoke with Jane; who I find cold and not so desirous of a meeting as before, and it is no matter, I shall be the freer from the inconvenience that might follow thereof, besides offending God Almighty and neglecting my business. So by coach home and to my office, where late, and so to supper and to bed. I met with Dr. Pierce today, who, speaking of Dr. Frazier’s2278 being so earnest to have such a one (one Collins) go chirurgeon to the Prince’s person will have him go in his terms and with so much money put into his hands, he tells me (when I was wondering that Frazier should order things with the Prince in that confident manner) that Frazier is so great with my Lady Castlemayne, and Stewart, and all the ladies at Court, in helping to slip their calfes when there is occasion, and with the great men in curing of their claps that he can do what he please with the King, in spite of any man, and upon the same score with the Prince; they all having more or less occasion to make use of him. Sir G. Carteret tells me this afternoon that the Dutch are not yet ready to set out; and by that means do lose a good wind which would carry them out and keep us in, and moreover he says that they begin to boggle in the business, and he thinks may offer terms of peace for all this, and seems to argue that it will be well for the King too, and I pray God send it. Colonel Reames did, among other things, this day tell me how it is clear that, if my Lord Tiviott had lived, he would have quite undone Tangier, or designed himself to be master of it. He did put the King upon most great, chargeable, and unnecessary works there, and took the course industriously to deter, all other merchants but himself to deal there, and to make both King and all others pay what he pleased for all that was brought thither.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and there met by appointment with Captain Poyntz, who hath some place, or title to a place, belonging to gaming, and so I discoursed with him about the business of our improving of the Lotteries, to the King’s benefit, and that of the Fishery, and had some light from him in the business, and shall, he says, have more in writing from him. So home to dinner and then abroad to the Fishing Committee at Fishmongers’ Hall, and there sat and did some business considerable, and so up and home, and there late at my office doing much business, and I find with great delight that I am come to my good temper of business again. God continue me in it. So home to supper, it being washing day, and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Mr. Povy’s, and there got him to signe the payment of Captain Tayler’s bills for the remainder of freight for the Eagle, wherein I shall be gainer about £30, thence with him to Westminster by coach to Houseman’s [Huysman] the great picture drawer, and saw again very fine pictures, and have his promise, for Mr. Povy’s sake, to take pains in what picture I shall set him about, and I think to have my wife’s. But it is a strange thing to observe and fit for me to remember that I am at no time so unwilling to part with money as when I am concerned in the getting of it most, as I thank God of late I have got more in this month, viz. near £250, than ever I did in half a year before in my life, I think. Thence to Whitehall with him, and so walked to the old Exchange and back to Povy’s to dinner, where great and good company; among others Sir John Skeffington,2279 whom I knew at Magdalen College, a fellow-commoner, my fellow-pupil, but one with whom I had no great acquaintance, he being then, God knows, much above me. Here I was afresh delighted with Mr. Povy’s house and pictures of perspective, being strange things to think how they do delude one’s eye, that methinks it would make a man doubtful of swearing that ever he saw anything. Thence with him to St. James’s, and so to Whitehall to a Tangier Committee, and hope I have light of another opportunity of getting a little money if Sir W. Warren will use me kindly for deales to Tangier, and with the hopes went joyfully home, and there received Captain Tayler’s money, received by Will today, out of which (as I said above) I shall get above £30. So with great comfort to bed, after supper. By discourse this day I have great hopes from Mr. Coventry that the Dutch and we shall not fall out.
. Up and at the office all the morning. To the ’Change at noon, and among other things discoursed with Sir William Warren what I might do to get a little money by carrying of deales to Tangier, and told him the opportunity I have there of doing it, and he did give me some advice, though not so good as he would have done at any other time of the year, but such as I hope to make good use of, and get a little money by. So to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner, and he and I and Captain Cocke all alone, and good discourse, and thence to a Committee of Tangier at Whitehall, and so home, where I found my wife not well, and she tells me she thinks she is with child, but I neither believe nor desire it. But God’s will be done! So to my office late, and home to supper and to bed; having got a strange cold in my head, by flinging off my hat at dinner, and sitting with the wind in my neck.2280
. My cold and pain in my head increasing, and the palate of my mouth falling, I was in great pain all night. My wife also was not well, so that a maid was fain to sit up by her all night. Lay long in the morning, at last up, and amongst others comes Mr. Fuller, that was the wit of Cambridge, and Prævaricator2281 in my time, and stayed all the morning with me discoursing, and his business to get a man discharged, which I did do for him. Dined with little heart at noon, in the afternoon against my will to the office, where Sir G. Carteret and we met about an order of the Council for the hiring him a house, giving him £1,000 fine, and £70 per annum for it. Here Sir J. Minnes took occasion, in the most childish and most unbeseeming manner, to reproach us all, but most himself, that he was not valued as Comptroller among us, nor did anything but only set his hand to paper, which is but too true; and everybody had a palace, and he no house to lie in, and wished he had but as much to build him a house with, as we have laid out in carved worke. It was to no end to oppose, but all bore it, and after laughed at him for it. So home, and late reading The Siege of Rhodes to my wife, and then to bed, my head being in great pain and my palate still down.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning busy, then home to dinner, and so after dinner comes one Phillips, who is concerned in the Lottery, and from him I collected much concerning that business. I carried him in my way to Whitehall and set him down at Somersett House. Among other things he told me that Monsieur Du Puy,2282 that is so great a man at the Duke of York’s, and this man’s great opponent, is a knave and by quality but a tailor. To the Tangier Committee, and there I opposed Colonel Legge’s estimate of supplies of provisions to be sent to Tangier till all were ashamed of it, and he fain after all his good husbandry and seeming ignorance and joy to have the King’s money saved, yet afterwards he discovered all his design to be to keep the furnishing of these things to the officers of the Ordnance, but Mr. Coventry seconded me, and between us we shall save the King some money in the year. In one business of deales in £520, I offer to save £172, and yet purpose getting money to myself by it. So home and to my office, and business being done home to supper and so to bed, my head and throat being still out of order mightily. This night Prior of Brampton came and paid me £40, and I find this poor painful man is the only thriving and purchasing man in the town almost. We were told today of a Dutch ship of 3 or 400 tons, where all the men were dead of the plague, and the ship cast ashore at Gottenburgh.
. Up, and my throat being yet very sore, and, my head out of order, we went not to church, but I spent all the morning reading of The Madd Lovers, a very good play, and at noon comes Harman and his wife, whom I sent for to meet the Joyces, but they came not. It seems Will has got a fall off his horse and broke his face. However, we were as merry as I could in their company, and we had a good chine of beef, but I had no taste nor stomach through my cold, and therefore little pleased with my dinner. It raining, they sat talking with us all the afternoon. So anon they went away; and then I to read another play, The Custome of the Country,2283 which is a very poor one, methinks. Then to supper, prayers, and bed.
. Up pretty well again, but my mouth very scabby, my cold being going away, so that I was forced to wear a great black patch, but that would not do much good, but it happens we did not go to the Duke today, and so I stayed at home busy all the morning. At noon, after dinner, to the ’Change, and thence home to my office again, where busy, well employed till 10 at night, and so home to supper and to bed, my mind a little troubled that I have not of late kept up myself so briske in business; but mind my ease a little too much and my family upon the coming of Mercer and Tom. So that I have not kept company, nor appeared very active with Mr. Coventry, but now I resolve to settle to it again, not that I have idled all my time, but as to my ease something. So I have looked a little too much after Tangier and the Fishery, and that in the sight of Mr. Coventry, but I have good reason to love myself for serving Tangier, for it is one of the best flowers in my garden.
. Lay long, sleeping, it raining and blowing very hard. Then up and to the office, my mouth still being scabby and a patch on it. At the office all the morning. At noon dined at home, and so after dinner (Lewellin dining with me and in my way talking about Deering) to the Fishing Committee, and had there very many fine things argued, and I hope some good will come of it. So home, where my wife having (after all her merry discourse of being with child) her months upon her is gone to bed. I to my office very late doing business, then home to supper and to bed. Tonight Mr. T. Trice and Piggot came to see me, and desire my going down to Brampton Court, where for Piggot’s sake, for whom it is necessary, I should go, I would be glad to go, and will, contrary to my purpose, endeavour it, but having now almost £1,000, if not above, in my house, I know not what to do with it, and that will trouble my mind to leave in the house, and I not at home.
. Up and by water with Mr. Tucker down to Woolwich, first to do several businesses of the King’s, then on board Captain Fisher’s ship, which we hire to carry goods to Tangier. All the way going and coming I reading and discoursing over some papers of his which he, poor man, having some experience, but greater conceit of it than is fit, did at the King’s first coming over make proposals of, ordering in a new manner the whole revenue of the kingdom, but, God knows, a most weak thing; however, one paper I keep wherein he do state the main branches of the public revenue fit to consider and remember. So home, very cold, and fearful of having got some pain, but, thanks be to God! I was well after it. So to dinner, and after dinner by coach to Whitehall, thinking to have met at a Committee of Tangier, but nobody being there but my Lord Rutherford, he would needs carry me and another Scotch Lord to a play, and so we saw, coming late, part of The General, my Lord Orrery’s (Broghill)2284 second play; but, Lord! to see how no more either in words, sense, or design, it is to his Harry the 5th is not imaginable, and so poorly acted, though in finer clothes, is strange. And here I must confess breach of a vowe in appearance, but I not desiring it, but against my will, and my oathe being to go neither at my own charge nor at another’s, as I had done by becoming liable to give them another, as I am to Sir W. Penn and Mr. Creed; but here I neither know which of them paid for me, nor, if I did, am I obliged ever to return the like, or did it by desire or with any willingness. So that with a safe conscience I do think my oathe is not broke and judge God Almighty will not think it other wise. Thence to W. Joyce’s, and there found my aunt and cousin Mary come home from my father’s with great pleasure and content, and thence to Kate’s and found her also mighty pleased with her journey and their good usage of them, and so home, troubled in my conscience at my being at a play. But at home I found Mercer playing on her Viol, which is a pretty instrument, and so I to the Viol and singing till late, and so to bed. My mind at a great losse how to go down to Brampton this weeke, to satisfy Piggott; but what with the fears of my house, my money, my wife, and my office, I know not how in the world to think of it, Tom Hater being out of town, and I having near £1,000 in my house.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, dined at home and Creed with me; after dinner I to Sir G. Carteret, and with him to his new house he is taking in Broad Street, and there surveyed all the rooms and bounds, in order to the drawing up a lease thereof; and that done, Mr. Cutler, his landlord, took me up and down, and showed me all his ground and house, which is extraordinary great, he having bought all the Augustine Fryers,2285 and many, many a £1,000 he hath and will bury there. So home to my business, clearing my papers and preparing my accounts against tomorrow for a monthly and a great audit. So to supper and to bed. Fresh news come of our beating the Dutch at Guinea quite out of all their castles almost, which will make them quite mad here at home sure. And Sir G. Carteret did tell me, that the King do joy mightily at it; but asked him laughing, “But,” says he, “how shall I do to answer this to the Embassador when he comes?” Nay they say that we have beat them out of the New Netherlands too;2286 so that we have been doing them mischief for a great while in several parts of the world; without public knowledge or reason. Their fleet for Guinea is now, they say, ready, and abroad, and will be going this week. Coming home tonight, I did go to examine my wife’s house accounts, and finding things that seemed somewhat doubtful, I was angry though she did make it pretty plain, but confessed that when she do misse a sum, she do add something to other things to make it, and, upon my being very angry, she do protest she will here lay up something for herself to buy her a necklace with, which madded me and do still trouble me, for I fear she will forget by degrees the way of living cheap and under a sense of want.
. Up, and all day, both morning and afternoon, at my accounts, it being a great month, both for profit and layings out, the last being £89 for kitchen and clothes for myself and wife, and a few extraordinaries for the house; and my profits, besides salary, £239; so that I have this weeke, notwithstanding great layings out, and preparations for laying out, which I make as paid this month, my balance to come to £1,203, for which the Lord’s name be praised! Dined at home at noon, staying long looking for Kate Joyce and my aunt James and Mary, but they came not. So my wife abroad to see them, and took Mary Joyce to a play. Then in the evening came and sat working by me at the office, and late home to supper and to bed, with my heart in good rest for this day’s work, though troubled to think that my last month’s negligence besides the making me neglect business and spend money, and lessen myself both as to business and the world and myself, I am fain to preserve my vowe by paying 20s. dry2287 money into the poor’s box, because I had not fulfilled all my memorandums and paid all my petty debts and received all my petty credits, of the last month, but I trust in God I shall do so no more.
October 1664
. Up and at the office both forenoon and afternoon very busy, and with great pleasure in being so. This morning Mrs. Lane (now Martin) like a foolish woman, came to the Horseshoe2288 hard by, and sent for me while I was: at the office; to come to speak with her by a note sealed up, I know to get me to do something for her husband, but I sent her an answer that I would see her at Westminster, and so I did not go, and she went away, poor soul. At night home to supper, weary, and my eyes sore with writing and reading, and to bed. We go now on with great vigour in preparing against the Dutch, who, they say, will now fall upon us without doubt upon this high news come of our beating them so wholly in Guinea.2289
. My wife not being well to go to church I walked with my boy through the City, putting in at several churches, among others at Bishopsgate, and there saw the picture2290 usually put before the King’s book, put up in the church, but very ill painted, though it were a pretty piece to set up in a church. I intended to have seen the Quakers, who, they say, do meet every Lord’s day at the Mouth2291 at Bishopsgate; but I could see none stirring, nor was it fit to aske for the place, so I walked over Moorefields, and thence to Clerkenwell church, and there, as I wished, sat next pew to the fair Butler, who indeed is a most perfect beauty still; and one I do very much admire myself for my choice of her for a beauty, she having the best lower part of her face that ever I saw all days of my life. After church I walked to my Lady Sandwich’s, through my Lord Southampton’s new buildings2292 in the fields behind Gray’s Inn; and, indeed, they are a very great and a noble work. So I dined with my Lady, and the same innocent discourse that we used to have, only after dinner, being alone, she asked me my opinion about Creed, whether he would have a wife or no, and what he was worth, and proposed Mrs. Wright2293 for him, which, she says, she heard he was once inquiring after. She desired I would take a good time and manner of proposing it, and I said I would, though I believed he would love nothing but money, and much was not to be expected there, she said. So away back to Clerkenwell Church, thinking to have got sight of la belle Boteler again, but failed, and so after church walked all over the fields home, and there my wife was angry with me for not coming home, and for gadding abroad to look after beauties, she told me plainly, so I made all peace, and to supper. This evening came Mrs. Lane (now Martin) with her husband to desire my help about a place for him. It seems poor Mr. Daniel is dead of the Victualling Office, a place too good for this puppy to follow him in. But I did give him the best words I could, and so after drinking a glasse of wine sent them going, but with great kindness. Go to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up with Sir J. Minnes, by coach, to St. James’s; and there all the news now of very hot preparations for the Dutch: and being with the Duke, he told us he was resolved to make a tripp himself, and that Sir W. Penn should go in the same ship with him. Which honour, God forgive me! I could grudge him, for his knavery and dissimulation, though I do not envy much the having the same place myself. Talk also of great haste in the getting out another fleet, and building some ships; and now it is likely we have put one another by each other’s dalliance past a retreate. Thence with our heads full of business we broke up, and I to my barber’s, and there only saw Jane and stroked her under the chin, and away to the Exchange, and there long about several businesses, hoping to get money by them, and thence home to dinner and there found Hawly. But meeting Bagwell’s wife at the office before I went home I took her into the office and there kissed her only. She rebuked me for doing it, saying that did I do so much to many bodies else it would be a stain to me. But I do not see but she takes it well enough, though in the main I believe she is very honest. So after some kind discourse we parted, and I home to dinner, and after dinner down to Deptford, where I found Mr. Coventry, and there we made an experiment of Holland’s and our cordage, and ours outdid it a great deal, as my book of observations tells particularly. Here we were late, and so home together by water, and I to my office, where late, putting things in order. Mr. Bland came this night to me to take his leave of me, he going to Tangier, wherein I wish him good success. So home to supper and to bed, my mind troubled at the businesses I have to do, that I cannot mind them as I ought to do and get money, and more that I have neglected my frequenting and seeming more busy publicly than I have done of late in this hurry of business, but there is time left to recover it, and I trust in God I shall.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and this morning Sir W. Penn went to Chatham to look after the ships now going out thence, and particularly that wherein the Duke and himself go. He took Sir G. Ascue with: him, whom, I believe, he hath brought into play. At noon to the ’Change and thence home, where I found my aunt James and the two she Joyces. They dined and were merry with us. Thence after dinner to a play, to see The General; which is so dull and so ill-acted, that I think it is the worst I ever saw or heard in all my days. I happened to sit near to Sir Charles Sidly;2294 who I find a very witty man, and he did at every line take notice of the dullness of the poet and badness of the action, that most pertinently; which I was mightily taken with; and among others where by Altemire’s command Clarimont, the General, is commanded to rescue his Rivall, whom she loved, Lucidor, he, after a great deal of demure, broke out; “Well, I’le save my Rivall and make her confess, that I deserve, while he do but possess.” “Why, what, pox,” says Sir Charles Sydly, “would he have him have more, or what is there more to be had of a woman than the possessing her?” Thence setting all them at home, I home with my wife and Mercer, vexed at my losing my time and above 20s. in money, and neglecting my business to see so bad a play. Tomorrow they told us should be acted, or the day after, a new play, called The Parson’s Dreame,2295 acted all by women. So to my office, and there did business; and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, and thence by coach to New Bridewell to meet with Mr. Poyntz to discourse with him (being Master of the Workhouse there) about making of Bewpers for us. But he was not within; however his clerke did lead me up and down through all the house, and there I did with great pleasure see the many pretty works, and the little children employed, everyone to do something, which was a very fine sight, and worthy encouragement. I cast away a crown among them, and so to the ’Change and among the Linen Wholesale Drapers to enquire about calicos, to see what can be done with them for the supplying our want of Bewpers for flags, and I think I shall do something therein to good purpose for the King. So to the Coffeehouse, and there fell in discourse with the Secretary of the Virtuosi of Gresham College,2296 and had very fine discourse with him. He tells me of a new invented instrument to be tried before the College anon, and I intend to see it. So to Trinity House, and there I dined among the old dull fellows, and so home and to my office a while, and then comes Mr. Cocker to see me, and I discoursed with him about his writing and ability of sight, and how I shall do to get some glasse or other to help my eyes by candlelight; and he tells me he will bring me the helps he hath within a day or two, and show me what he do. Thence to the Music-meeting at the Post Office, where I was once before. And thither anon come all the Gresham College, and a great deal of noble company: and the new instrument was brought called the Arched Viol,2297 where being tuned with lute-strings, and played on with keys like an organ, a piece of parchment is always kept moving; and the strings, which by the keys are pressed down upon it, are grated in imitation of a bow, by the parchment; and so it is intended to resemble several viols played on with one bow, but so basely and harshly, that it will never do. But after three hours’ stay it could not be fixed in tune; and so they were fain to go to some other music of instruments, which I am grown quite out of love with, and so I, after some good discourse with Mr. Spong, Hill, Grant, and Dr. Whistler, and others by turns, I home to my office and there late, and so home, where I understand my wife has spoke to Jane and ended matters of difference between her and her, and she stays with us, which I am glad of; for her fault is nothing but sleepiness and forgetfulness, otherwise a good-natured, quiet, well-meaning, honest servant, and one that will do as she is bid, so one called upon her and will see her do it. This morning, by three o’clock, the Prince2298 and King, and Duke with him, went down the River, and the Prince under sail the next tide after, and so is gone from the Hope. God give him better success than he used to have! This day Mr. Bland went away hence towards his voyage to Tangier. This day also I had a letter from an unknown hand that tells me that Jacke Angier, he believes, is dead at Lisbon, for he left him there ill.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, among other things about this of the flags and my bringing in of calicos to oppose Young and Whistler. At noon by promise Mr. Pierce and his wife and Madam Clerke and her niece came and dined with me to a rare chine of beefe and spent the afternoon very pleasantly all the afternoon, and then to my office in the evening, they being gone, and late at business, and then home to supper and to bed, my mind coming to itself in following of my business.
. Lay pretty while with some discontent abed, even to the having bad words with my wife, and blows too, about the ill-serving up of our victuals yesterday; but all ended in love, and so I rose and to my office busy all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then to my office again, and then abroad to look after calicos for flags, and hope to get a small matter by my pains therein and yet save the King a great deal of money, and so home to my office, and there came Mr. Cocker, and brought me a globe of glasse, and a frame of oiled paper, as I desired, to show me the manner of his gaining light to grave by, and to lessen the glaringness of it at pleasure by an oiled paper. This I bought of him, giving him a crown for it; and so, well satisfied, he went away, and I to my business again, and so home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. All the morning at the office, and after dinner abroad, and among other things contracted with one Mr. Bridges, at the White Bear2299 on Cornhill, for 100 pieces of calico to make flags; and as I know I shall save the King money, so I hope to get a little for my pains and venture of my own money myself. Late in the evening doing business, and then comes Captain Tayler, and he and I till 12 o’clock at night arguing about the freight of his ship Eagle, hired formerly by me to Tangier, and at last we made an end, and I hope to get a little money, some small matter by it. So home to bed, being weary and cold, but contented that I have made an end of that business.
. Lay pretty long, but however up time enough with my wife to go to church. Then home to dinner, and Mr. Fuller, my Cambridge acquaintance, coming to me about what he was with me lately, to release a waterman, he told me he was to preach at Barking Church;2300 and so I to heare him, and he preached well and neatly. Thence, it being time enough, to our own church, and there stayed wholly privately at the great door to gaze upon a pretty lady, and from church dogged her home, whither she went to a house near Tower hill, and I think her to be one of the prettiest women I ever saw. So home, and at my office a while busy, then to my uncle Wight’s, whither it seems my wife went after sermon and there supped, but my aunt and uncle in a very ill humour one with another, but I made shift with much ado to keep them from scolding, and so after supper home and to bed without prayers, it being cold, and tomorrow washing day.
. Up and, it being rainy, in Sir W. Penn’s coach to St. James’s, and there did our usual business with the Duke, and more and more preparations every day appear against the Dutch, and (which I must confess do a little move my envy) Sir W. Penn do grow every day more and more regarded by the Duke,2301 because of his service heretofore in the Dutch war which I am confident is by some strong obligations he hath laid upon Mr. Coventry; for Mr. Coventry must needs know that he is a man of very mean parts, but only a bred seaman. Going home in coach with Sir W. Batten he told me how Sir J. Minnes by the means of Sir R. Ford was the last night brought to his house and did discover the reason of his so long discontent with him, and now they are friends again, which I am sorry for, but he told it me so plainly that I see there is no thorough understanding between them, nor love, and so I hope there will be no great combination in anything, nor do I see Sir J. Minnes very fond as he used to be. But: Sir W. Batten do raffle still against Mr. Turner and his wife, telling me he is a false fellow, and his wife a false woman, and has rotten teeth and false, set in with wire, and as I know they are so, so I am glad he finds it so. To the Coffeehouse, and thence to the ’Change, and therewith Sir W. Warren to the Coffeehouse behind the ’Change, and sat alone with him till 4 o’clock talking of his businesses first and then of business in general, and discourse how I might get money and how to carry myself to advantage to contract no envy and yet make the world see my pains; which was with great content to me, and a good friend and help I am like to find him, for which God be thanked! So home to dinner at 4 o’clock, and then to the office, and there late, and so home to supper and to bed, having sat up till past twelve at night to look over the account of the collections for the Fishery, and the loose and base manner that monies so collected are disposed of in, would make a man never part with a penny in that manner, and, above all, the inconvenience of having a great man, though never so seeming pious as my Lord Pembroke2302 is. He is too great to be called to an account, and is abused by his servants, and yet obliged to defend them for his own sake. This day, by the blessing of God, my wife and I have been married nine years: but my head being full of business, I did not think of it to keep it in any extraordinary manner. But bless God for our long lives and loves and health together, which the same God long continue, I wish, from my very heart!
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. My wife this morning went, being invited, to my Lady Sandwich, and I alone at home at dinner, till by and by Luellin comes and dines with me. He tells me what a bawdy loose play this Parson’s Wedding2303 is, that is acted by nothing but women at the King’s house, and I am glad of it. Thence to the Fishery in Thames Street, and there several good discourses about the letting of the Lotteries, and, among others, one Sir Thomas Clifford,2304 whom yet I knew not, do speak very well and neatly. Thence I to my cousin Will Joyce to get him to go to Brampton with me this week, but I think he will not, and I am not a whit sorry for it, for his company both chargeable and troublesome. So home and to my office, and then to supper and then to my office again till late, and so home, with my head and heart full of business, and so to bed. My wife tells me the sad news of my Lady Castlemayne’s being now become so decayed, that one would not know her; at least far from a beauty, which I am sorry for. This day with great joy Captain Titus told us the particulars of the French’s expedition against Gigery upon the Barbary Coast,2305 in the Straights, with 6,000 chosen men. They have taken the Fort of Gigery, wherein were five men and three guns, which makes the whole story of the King of France’s policy and power to be laughed at.
. This morning all the morning at my office ordering things against my journey tomorrow. At noon to the Coffeehouse, where very good discourse. For news, all say De Ruyter is gone to Guinea before us. Sir J. Lawson is come to Portsmouth; and our fleet is hastening all speed: I mean this new fleet. Prince Rupert with his is got into the Downs. At home dined with me W. Joyce and a friend of his. W. Joyce will go with me to Brampton. After dinner I out to Mr. Bridges, the linen draper, and evened with (him) for 100 pieces of calico, and did give him £208 18s., which I now trust the King for, but hope both to save the King money and to get a little by it to boot. Thence by water up and down all the timber yards to look out some Dram timber, but can find none for our turne at the price I would have; and so I home, and there at my office late doing business against my journey to clear my hands of everything for two days. So home and to supper and bed.
. After being at the office all the morning, I home and dined, and taking leave of my wife with my mind not a little troubled how she would look after herself or house in my absence, especially, too, leaving a considerable sum of money in the office, I by coach to the Red Lion in Aldersgate Street, and there, by agreement, met W. Joyce and Tom Trice, and mounted, I upon a very fine mare that Sir W. Warren helps me to, and so very merrily rode till it was very dark, I leading the way through the dark to Welling,2306 and there, not being very weary, to supper and to bed. But very bad accommodation at the Swan. In this day’s journey I met with Mr. White,2307 Cromwell’s chaplain that was, and had a great deal of discourse with him. Among others, he tells me that Richard is, and hath long been, in France, and is now going into Italy. He owns publicly that he do correspond, and return him all his money. That Richard hath been in some straits at the beginning; but relieved by his friends. That he goes by another name, but do not disguise himself, nor deny himself to any man that challenges him. He tells me, for certain, that offers had been made to the old man, of marriage between the King and his daughter, to have obliged him, but he would not.2308 He thinks (with me) that it never was in his power to bring in the King with the consent of any of his officers about him; and that he scorned to bring him in as Monk did, to secure himself and deliver everybody else. When I told him of what I found writ in a French book of one Monsieur Sorbiere,2309 that gives an account of his observations herein England; among other things he says, that it is reported that Cromwell did, in his lifetime, transpose many of the bodies of the Kings of England from one grave to another, and that by that means it is not known certainly whether the head that is now set up upon a post be that of Cromwell, or of one of the Kings; Mr. White tells me that he believes he never had so poor a low thought in him to trouble himself about it. He says the hand of God is much to be seen; that all his children are in good condition enough as to estate, and that their relations that betrayed their family are all now either hanged or very miserable.
. Up by break of day, and got to Brampton by three o’clock, where my father and mother overjoyed to see me, my mother, ready to weepe every time she looked upon me. After dinner my father and I to the Court, and there did all our business to my mind, as I have set down in a paper particularly expressing our proceedings at this court. So home, where W. Joyce full of talk and pleased with his journey, and after supper I to bed and left my father, mother, and him laughing.
. My father and I up and walked alone to Hinchingbroke; and among the other late chargeable works that my Lord hath done there, we saw his waterworks and the Ora,2310 which is very fine; and so is the house all over, but I am sorry to think of the money at this time spent therein. Back to my father’s (Mr. Sheply being out of town) and there breakfasted, after making an end with Barton about his businesses, and then my mother called me into the garden, and there but all to no purpose desiring me to be friends with John, but I told her I cannot, nor indeed easily shall, which afflicted the poor woman, but I cannot help it. Then taking leave, W. Joyce and I set out, calling T. Trice at Bugden, and thence got by night to Stevenage, and there mighty merry, though I in bed more weary than the other two days, which, I think, proceeded from our galloping so much, my other weariness being almost all over; but I find that a coney skin in my breeches preserves me perfectly from galling, and that eating after I come to my Inne, without drinking, do keep me from being stomach sick, which drink do presently make me. We lay all in several beds in the same room, and W. Joyce full of his impertinent tricks and talk, which then made us merry, as any other fool would have done. So to sleep.
. It raining, we set out, and about nine o’clock got to Hatfield in church-time; and I ’light and saw my simple Lord Salsbury2311 sit there in his gallery. Stayed not in the Church, but thence mounted again and to Barnett by the end of sermon, and there dined at the Red Lion very weary again, but all my weariness yesterday night and today in my thighs only, the rest of my weariness in my shoulders and arms being quite gone. Thence home, parting company at my cousin Anth. Joyce’s, by four o’clock, weary, but very well, to bed at home, where I find all well. Anon my wife came to bed, but for my ease rose again and lay with her woman.
. Rose very well and not weary, and with Sir W. Batten to St. James’s; there did our business. I saw Sir J. Lawson since his return from sea first this morning, and hear that my Lord Sandwich is come from Portsmouth to town. Thence I to him, and finding him at my Lord Crew’s, I went with him home to his house and much kind discourse. Thence my Lord to Court, and I with Creed to the ’Change, and thence with Sir W. Warren to a cook’s shop and dined, discoursing and advising him about his great contract he is to make tomorrow, and do every day receive great satisfaction in his company, and a prospect of a just advantage by his friendship. Thence to my office doing some business, but it being very cold, I, for fear of getting cold, went early home to bed, my wife not being come home from my Lady Jemimah, with whom she hath been at a play and at Court today.
. Up and to the office, where among other things we made a very great contract with Sir W. Warren for 3,000 load of timber. At noon dined at home. In the afternoon to the Fishery, where, very confused and very ridiculous, my Lord Craven’s proceedings, especially his finding fault with Sir J. Collaton2312 and Colonel Griffin’s2313 report in the accounts of the lottery-men. Thence I with Mr. Gray in his coach to Whitehall, but the King and Duke being abroad, we returned to Somersett House. In discourse I find him a very worthy and studious gentleman in the business of trade, and among-other things he observed well to me, how it is not the greatest wits, but the steady man, that is a good merchant: he instanced in Ford and Cocke, the last of whom he values above all men as his oracle, as Mr. Coventry do Mr. Jolliffe. He says that it is concluded among merchants, that where a trade hath once been and do decay, it never recovers again, and therefore that the manufacture of clothe of England will never come to esteem again; that, among other faults, Sir Richard Ford cannot keepe a secret, and that it is so much the part of a merchant to be guilty of that fault that the Duke of Yoke is resolved to commit no more secrets to the merchants of the Royal Company; that Sir Ellis Layton is, for a speech of forty words, the wittiest man that ever he knew in his life, but longer he is nothing, his judgment being nothing at all, but his wit most absolute. At Somersett House he carried me in, and there I saw the Queen’s new rooms, which are most stately and nobly furnished; and there I saw her, and the Duke of York and Duchess were there. The Duke espied me, and came to me, and talked with me a very great while about our contract this day with Sir W. Warren, and among other things did with some contempt ask whether we did except Polliards, which Sir W. Batten did yesterday (in spite, as the Duke I believe by my Lord Barkely do well enough know) among other things in writing propose. Thence home by coach, it raining hard, and to my office, where late, then home to supper and to bed. This night the Dutch Embassador desired and had an audience of the King. What the issue of it was I know not. Both sides I believe desire peace, but neither will begin, and so I believe a war will follow. The Prince is with his fleet at Portsmouth, and the Dutch are making all preparations for war.
. Up and to my office all the morning. At noon dined at home; then abroad by coach to buy for the office Herne Upon the Statute of Charitable Uses,2314 in order to the doing something better in the Chest than we have done, for I am ashamed to see Sir W. Batten possess himself so long of so much money as he hath done. Coming home, weighed, my two silver flagons at Stevens’s. They weigh 212 oz. 27 dwt., which is about £50, at 5s. per oz., and then they judge the fashion to be worth above 5s. per oz. more—nay, some say 10s. an ounce the fashion. But I do not believe, but yet am sorry to see that the fashion is worth so much, and the silver come to no more. So home and to my office, where very busy late. My wife at Mercer’s mother’s, I believe, W. Hewer with them, which I do not like, that he should ask my leave to go about business, and then to go and spend his time in sport, and leave me here busy. To supper and to bed, my wife coming in by and by, which though I know there was no hurt in it, I do not like.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon my uncle Thomas came, dined with me, and received some money of me. Then I to my office, where I took in with me Bagwell’s wife, and there I caressed her, and find her every day more and more coming with good words and promises of getting her husband a place, which I will do. So we parted, and I to my Lord Sandwich at his lodgings, and after a little stay away with Mr. Cholmely to Fleet Street; in the way he telling me that Tangier is like to be in a bad condition with this same Fitzgerald, he being a man of no honour, nor presence, nor little honesty, and endeavours: to raise the Irish and suppress the English interest there; and offend everybody, and do nothing that I hear of well, which I am sorry for. Thence home, by the way taking two silver tumblers home, which I have bought, and so home, and there late busy at my office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by coach to Mr. Cole’s, and there conferred with him about some law business, and so to Sir W. Turner’s, and there bought my cloth, coloured, for a suit and cloake, to line with plush the cloak, which will cost me money, but I find that I must go handsomely, whatever it costs me, and the charge will be made up in the fruit it brings. Thence to the Coffeehouse and ’Change, and so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon, whither comes W. Howe to see me, being come from, and going presently back to sea with my Lord. Among other things he tells me Mr. Creed is much out of favour with my Lord from his freedom of talk and bold carriage, and other things with which my Lord is not pleased, but most I doubt his not lending my Lord money, and Mr. Moore’s reporting what his answer was I doubt in the worst manner. But, however, a very unworthy rogue he is, and, therefore, let him go for one good for nothing, though wise to the height above most men I converse with. In the evening (W. Howe being gone) comes Mr. Martin, to trouble me again to get him a Lieutenant’s place for which he is as fit as a foole can be. But I put him off like an arse, as he is, and so setting my papers and books in order I home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon comes my uncle Thomas and his daughter Mary2315 about getting me to pay them the £30 due now, but payable in law to her husband. I did give them the best answer I could, and so parted, they not desiring to stay to dinner. After dinner I down to Deptford, and there did business, and so back to my office, where very late busy, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to church. At noon comes unexpected Mr. Fuller, the minister, and dines with me, and also I had invited Mr. Cooper with one I judge come from sea, and he and I spent the whole afternoon together, he teaching me some things in understanding of plates. At night to the office, doing business, and then home to supper. Then a psalm, to prayers, and to bed.
. Up and in Sir J. Minnes’ coach (alone with Mrs. Turner as far as Paternoster Row, where I set her down) to St. James’s, and there did our business, and I had the good lucke to speak what pleased the Duke about our great contract in hand with Sir W. Warren against Sir W. Batten, wherein the Duke is very earnest for our contracting. Thence home to the office till noon, and then dined and to the ’Change and off with Sir W. Warren for a while, consulting about managing his contract. Thence to a Committee at Whitehall of Tangier, where I had the good lucke to speak something to very good purpose about the Mole at Tangier, which was well received even by Sir J. Lawson and Mr. Cholmely, the undertakers, against whose interest I spoke; that I believe I shall be valued for it. Thence into the galleries to talk with my Lord Sandwich; among other things, about the Prince’s writing up to tell us of the danger he and his fleet lie in at Portsmouth, of receiving affronts from the Dutch; which, my Lord said, he would never have done, had he lain there with one ship alone: nor is there any great reason for it, because of the sands. However, the fleet will be ordered to go and lay themselves up at the Cowes. Much beneath the prowess of the Prince, I think, and the honour of the nation, at the first to be found to secure themselves. My Lord is well pleased to think, that, if the Duke and the Prince go, all the blame of any miscarriage will not light on him; and that if anything goes well, he hopes he shall have the share of the glory, for the Prince is by no means well esteemed of by anybody. Thence home, and though not very well yet up late about the Fishery business, wherein I hope to give an account how I find the Collections to have been managed, which I did finish to my great content, and so home to supper and to bed. This day the great O’Neale2316 died; I believe, to the content of all the Protestant pretenders in Ireland.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and finished Sir W. Warren’s great contract for timber, with great content to me, because just in the terms I wrote last night to Sir W. Warren and against the terms proposed by Sir W. Batten. At noon home to dinner, and there found Creed and Hawley. After dinner comes in Mrs. Ingram, the first time to make a visit to my wife. After a little stay I left them and to the Committee of the Fishery, and there did make my report of the late public collections for the Fishery, much to the satisfaction of the Committee, and I think much to my reputation, for good notice was taken of it and much it was commended. So home, in my way taking care of a piece of plate for Mr. Christopher Pett, against the launching of his new great ship tomorrow at Woolwich, which I singly did move to His Royal Highness, and did obtain it for him, to the value of twenty pieces. And he, under his hand, do acknowledge to me that he did never receive so great a kindness from any man in the world as from me herein. So to my office, and then to supper, and then to my office again, where busy late, being very full now a days of business to my great content, I thank God, and so home to bed, my house being full of a design, to go tomorrow, my wife and all her servants, to see the new ship launched.
. Up, my people rising mighty betimes, to fit themselves to go by water; and my boy, he could not sleep, but wakes about four o’clock, and in bed lay playing on his lute till daylight, and, it seems, did the like last night till twelve o’clock. About eight o’clock, my wife, she and her woman, and Besse and Jane, and W. Hewer and the boy, to the waterside, and there took boat, and by and by I out of doors, to look after the flagon, to get it ready to carry to Woolwich. That being not ready, I stepped aside and found out Nellson, he that Whistler buys his bewpers of, and did there buy 5 pieces at their price, and am in hopes thereby to bring them down or buy ourselves all we spend of Nellson at the first hand. This jobb was greatly to my content, and by and by the flagon being finished at the burnisher’s, I home, and there fitted myself, and took a hackney-coach I hired, it being a very cold and foule day, to Woolwich, all the way reading in a good book touching the fishery, and that being done, in the book upon the statute of charitable uses, mightily to my satisfaction. At Woolwich; I there up to the King and Duke, and they liked the plate well. Here I stayed above with them while the ship2317 was launched, which was done with great success, and the King did very much like the ship, saying, she had the best bow that ever he saw. But, Lord! the sorry talk and discourse among the great courtiers round about him, without any reverence in the world, but with so much disorder. By and by the Queen comes and her Maids of Honour; one whereof, Mrs. Boynton,2318 and the Duchess of Buckingham,2319 had been very sickly coming by water in the barge (the water being very rough); but what silly sport they made with them in very common terms, methought, was very poor, and below what people think these great people say and do. The launching being done, the King and company went down to take barge; and I sent for Mr. Pett,2320 and put the flagon into the Duke’s hand, and he, in the presence of the King, did give it, Mr. Pett taking it upon his knee. This Mr. Pett is wholly beholding to me for, and he do know and I believe will acknowledge it. Thence I to Mr. Ackworth, and there eat and drank with Commissioner Pett and his wife, and thence to Shelden’s, where Sir W. Batten and his Lady were. By and by I took coach after I had enquired for my wife or her boat, but found none. Going out of the gate, an ordinary woman prayed me to give her room to London, which I did, but spoke not to her all the way, but read, as long as I could see, my book again. Dark when we came to London, and a stop of coaches in Southwarke. I stayed above half an houre and then ’light, and finding Sir W. Batten’s coach, heard they were gone into the Beare at the Bridge foot, and thither I to them. Presently the stop is removed, and then going out to find my coach, I could not find it, for it was gone with the rest; so I fair to go through the dark and dirt over the bridge, and my leg fell in a hole broke on the bridge, but, the constable standing there to keep people from it, I was catched up, otherwise I had broke my leg; for which mercy the Lord be praised! So at Fenchurch I found my coach staying for me, and so home, where the little girl hath looked to the house well, but no wife come home, which made me begin to fear [for] her, the water being very rough, and cold and dark. But by and by she and her company come in all well, at which I was glad, though angry. Thence I to Sir W. Batten’s, and there sat late with him, Sir R. Ford, and Sir John Robinson; the last of whom continues still the same foole he was, crying up what power he has in the City, in knowing their temper, and being able to do what he will with them. It seems the City did last night very freely lend the King £100,000 without any security but the King’s word, which was very noble. But this loggerhead and Sir R. Ford would make us believe that they did it. Now Sir R. Ford is a cunning man, and makes a foole of the other, and the other believes whatever the other tells him. But, Lord! to think that such a man should be Lieutenant of the Tower, and so great a man as he is, is a strange thing to me. With them late and then home and with my wife to bed, after supper.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning busy. At noon, Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, and myself, were treated at the Dolphin by Mr. Foly,2321 the ironmonger, where a good plain dinner, but I expected music, the missing of which spoiled my dinner, only very good merry discourse at dinner. Thence with Sir G. Carteret by coach to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, and thence back to London, and ’light in Cheapside and I to Nellson’s, and there met with a rub at first, but took him out to drink, and there discoursed to my great content so far with him that I think I shall agree with him for Bewpers to serve the Navy with. So with great content home and to my office, where late, and having got a great cold in my head yesterday home to supper and to bed.
. Slept ill all night, having got a very great cold the other day at Woolwich in [my] head, which makes me full of snot. Up in the morning, and my tailor brings me home my fine, new, coloured cloth suit, my cloake lined with plush, as good a suit as ever I wore in my life, and mighty neat, to my great content. To my office, and there all the morning. At noon to Nellson’s, and there bought 20 pieces more of Bewpers, and hope to go on with him to a contract. Thence to the ’Change a little, and thence home with Luellin to dinner, where Mr. Deane met me by appointment, and after dinner he and I up to my chamber, and there hard at discourse, and advising him what to do in his business at Harwich, and then to discourse of our old business of ships and taking new rules of him to my great pleasure, and he being gone I to my office a little, and then to see Sir W. Batten, who is sick of a greater cold than I, and thither comes to me Mr. Holliard, and into the chamber to me, and, poor man (beyond all I ever saw of him), was a little drunk, and there sat talking and finding acquaintance with Sir W. Batten and my Lady by relations on both sides, that there we stayed very long. At last broke up, and he home much overcome with drink, but well enough to get well home. So I home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and it being my Lord Mayor’s show,2322 my boy and three maids went out; but it being a very foule, rainy day, from morning till night, I was sorry my wife let them go out. All the morning at the office. At dinner at home. In the afternoon to the office again, and about 9 o’clock by appointment to the King’s Head tavern upon Fish Street Hill, whither Mr. Wolfe (and Parham by his means) met me to discourse about the Fishery, and great light I had by Parham, who is a little conceited, but a very knowing man in his way, and in the general fishing trade of England. Here I stayed three hours, and eat a barrel of very fine oysters of Wolfe’s giving me, and so, it raining hard, home and to my office, and then home to bed. All the talk is that De Ruyter is come overland home with six or eight of his captaines to command here at home, and their ships kept abroad in the Straights; which sounds as if they had a mind to do something with us.
. Up, and this morning put on my new, fine, coloured cloth suit, with my cloake lined with plush, which is a dear and noble suit, costing me about £17. To church, and then home to dinner, and after dinner to a little music with my boy, and so to church with my wife, and so home, and with her all the evening reading and at music with my boy with great pleasure, and so to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Very busy all the morning, at noon Creed to me and dined with me, and then he and I to Whitehall, there to a Committee of Tangier, where it is worth remembering when Mr. Coventry proposed the retrenching some of the charge of the horse, the first word asked by the Duke of Albemarle was, “Let us see who commands them,” there being three troops. One of them he calls to mind was by Sir Toby Bridges.2323 “Oh!” says he, “there is a very good man. If you must reform2324 two of them, be sure let him command the troop that is left.” Thence home, and there came presently to me Mr. Young and Whistler, who find that I have quite overcome them in their business of flags, and now they come to intreat my favour, but I will be even with them. So late to my office and there till past one in the morning making up my month’s accounts, and find that my expense this month in clothes has kept me from laying up anything; but I am no worse, but a little better than I was, which is £1,205, a great sum, the Lord be praised for it! So home to bed, with my mind full of content therein, and vexed for my being so angry in bad words to my wife tonight, she not giving me a good account of her layings out to my mind tonight. This day I hear young Mr. Stanly, a brave young [gentleman], that went out with young Jermin, with Prince Rupert, is already dead of the smallpox, at Portsmouth. All preparations against the Dutch; and the Duke of York fitting himself with all speed, to go to the fleet which is hastening for him; being now resolved to go in the Charles.
November 1664
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, at noon (my wife being invited to my Lady Sandwich’s) all alone dined at home upon a good goose with Mr. Wayth, discussing of business. Thence I to the Committee of the Fishery, and there we sat with several good discourses and some bad and simple ones, and with great disorder, and yet by the men of business of the town. But my report in the business of the collections is mightily commended and will get me some reputation, and indeed is the only thing looks like a thing well done since we sat. Then with Mr. Parham to the tavern, but I drank no wine, only he did give me another barrel of oysters, and he brought one Major Greene, an able fishmonger, and good discourse to my information. So home and late at business at my office. Then to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and down with Mr. Castle to Redriffe, and there walked to Deptford to view a parcel of brave knees2325 of his, which indeed are very good, and so back again home, I seeming very friendly to him, though I know him to be a rogue, and one that hates me with his heart. Home and to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon, where in some pain in my backe, which troubled me, but I think it comes only with stooping, and from no other matter. At night to Nellson’s, and up and down about business, and so home to my office, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where strange to see how Sir W. Penn is flocked to by people of all sorts against his going to sea. At the office did much business, among other an end of that that has troubled me long, the business of the bewpers and flags. At noon to the ’Change, and thence by appointment was met with Bagwell’s wife, and she followed me into Moorfields, and there into a drinking house, and all alone eat and drank together. I did there caress her, but though I did make some offer did not receive any compliance from her in what was bad, but very modestly she denied me, which I was glad to see and shall value her the better for it, and I hope never tempt her to any evil more. Thence back to the town, and we parted and I home, and then at the office late, where Sir W. Penn came to take his leave of me, being tomorrow, which is very sudden to us, to go on board to lie on board, but I think will come ashore again before the ship, the Charles,2326 can go away. So home to supper and to bed. This night Sir W. Batten did, among other things, tell me strange news, which troubles me, that my Lord Sandwich will be sent Governor to Tangier, which, in some respects, indeed, I should be glad of, for the good of the place and the safety of his person; but I think his honour will suffer, and, it may be, his interest fail by his distance.
. Waked very betimes and lay long awake, my mind being so full of business. Then up and to St. James’s, where I find Mr. Coventry full of business, packing up for his going to sea with the Duke. Walked with him, talking, to Whitehall, where to the Duke’s lodgings, who is gone thither to lodge lately. I appeared to the Duke, and thence Mr. Coventry and I an hour in the Long Gallery, talking about the management of our office, he tells me the weight of dispatch will lie chiefly on me, and told me freely his mind touching Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, the latter of whom, he most aptly said, was like a lapwing; that all he did was to keepe a flutter, to keepe others from the nest that they would find. He told me an old story of the former about the lighthouses, how just before he had certified to the Duke against the use of them, and what a burden they are to trade, and presently after, at his being at Harwich, comes to desire that he might have the setting one up there, and gets the usefulness of it certified also by the Trinity House. After long discoursing and considering all our stores and other things, as how the King hath resolved upon Captain Taylor2327 and Colonel Middleton,2328 the first to be Commissioner for Harwich and the latter for Portsmouth, I away to the ’Change, and there did very much business, so home to dinner, and Mr. Duke, our Secretary for the Fishery, dined with me. After dinner to discourse of our business, much to my content, and then he away, and I by water among the smiths on the other side, and to the alehouse with one and was near buying 4 or 5 anchors, and learned something worth my knowing of them, and so home and to my office, where late, with my head very full of business, and so away home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and so with my wife to the Duke’s house to a play, Macbeth,2329 a pretty good play, but admirably acted. Thence home; the coach being forced to go round by London Wall home, because of the bonefires; the day being mightily observed in the City. To my office late at business, and then home to supper, and to bed.
. Up and with my wife to church. Dined at home. And I all the afternoon close at my office drawing up some proposals to present to the Committee for the Fishery tomorrow, having a great good intention to be serviceable in the business if I can. At night, to supper with my uncle Wight, where very merry, and so home. To prayers and to bed.
. Up and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, where mighty thrusting about the Duke now upon his going. We were with him long. He advised us to follow our business close, and to be directed in his absence by the Committee of the Council for the Navy.2330 By and by a meeting of the Fishery, where the Duke was, but in such haste, and things looked so superficially over, that I had not a fit opportunity to propose my paper that I wrote yesterday, but I had showed it to Mr. Gray and Wren before, who did like it most highly, as they said, and I think they would not dissemble in that manner in a business of this nature, but I see the greatest businesses are done so superficially that I wonder anything succeeds at all among us, that is public. Thence somewhat vexed to see myself frustrated in the good I hoped to have done and a little reputation to have gained, and thence to my barber’s, but Jane not being in the way I to my Lady Sandwich’s, and there met my wife and dined, but I find that I dine as well myself, that is, as neatly, and my meat as good and well-dressed, as my good Lady do, in the absence of my Lord. Thence by water I to my barber’s again, and did meet in the street my Jane, but could not talk with her, but only a word or two, and so by coach called my wife, and home, where at my office late, and then, it being washing day, to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where by and by Mr. Coventry come, and after doing a little business, took his leave of us, being to go to sea with the Duke tomorrow. At noon, I and Sir J. Minnes and Lord Barkeley (who with Sir J. Duncum,2331 and Mr. Chichly, are made Masters of the Ordnance), to the office of the Ordnance, to discourse about wadding for guns. Thence to dinner, all of us to the Lieutenant’s of the Tower; where a good dinner, but disturbed in the middle of it by the King’s coming into the Tower: and so we broke up, and to him, and went up and down the storehouses and magazines; which are, with the addition of the new great storehouse, a noble sight. He gone, I to my office, where Bagwell’s wife stayed for me, and together with her a good while, to meet again shortly. So all the afternoon at my office till late, and then to bed, joyed in my love and ability to follow my business. This day, Mr. Lever sent my wife a pair of silver candlesticks, very pretty ones. The first man that ever presented me, to whom I have not only done little service, but apparently did him the greatest disservice in his business of accounts, as Purser-General, of any man at the board.
. Called up, as I had appointed, by H. Russell, between two and three o’clock, and I and my boy Tom by water with a gally down to the Hope, it being a fine starry night. Got thither by eight o’clock, and there, as expected, found the Charles, her mainmast setting. Commissioner Pett aboard. I up and down to see the ship I was so well acquainted with, and a great worke it is, the setting so great a mast. Thence the Commissioner and I on board Sir G. Ascue, in the Henery,2332 who lacks men mightily, which makes me think that there is more believed to be in a man that hath heretofore been employed than truly there is; for one would never have thought, a month ago, that he would have wanted 1,000 men at his heels. Nor do I think he hath much of a seaman in him: for he told me, says he, “Heretofore, we used to find our ships clear and ready, everything to our hands in the Downs. Now I come, and must look to see things done like a slave, things that I never minded, nor cannot look after.” And by his discourse I find that he hath not minded anything in her at all. Thence not staying, the wind blowing hard, I made use of the Jemmy yacht and returned to the Tower in her, my boy being a very droll boy and good company. Home and eat something, and then shifted myself, and to Whitehall, and there the King being in his Cabinet Council (I desiring to speak with Sir G. Carteret), I was called in, and demanded by the King himself many questions, to which I did give him full answers. There were at this Council my Lord Chancellor, Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Treasurer, the two Secretaries, and Sir G. Carteret. Not a little contented at this chance of being made known to these persons, and called often by my name by the King, I to Mr. Pierce’s to take leave of him, but he not within, but saw her and made very little stay, but straight home to my office, where I did business, and then to supper and to bed. The Duke of York is this day gone away to Portsmouth.
. Up, and not finding my things ready, I was so angry with Besse as to bid my wife for good and all to bid her provide herself a place, for though she be very good-natured, she hath no care nor memory of her business at all. So to the office, where vexed at the malice of Sir W. Batten and folly of Sir J. Minnes against Sir W. Warren, but I prevented, and shall do, though to my own disquiet and trouble. At noon dined with Sir W. Batten and the Auditors of the Exchequer at the Dolphin by Mr. Wayth’s desire, and after dinner fell to business relating to Sir G. Carteret’s account, and so home to the office, where Sir W. Batten begins, too fast, to show his knavish tricks in giving what price he pleases for commodities. So abroad, intending to have spoke with my Lord Chancellor about the old business of his wood at Clarendon, but could not, and so home again, and late at my office, and then home to supper and bed. My little girl Susan is fallen sicke of the measles, we fear, or, at least, of a scarlet feavour.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten to the Council Chamber at Whitehall, to the Committee of the Lords for the Navy, where we were made to wait an houre or two before called in.2333 In that time looking upon some books of heraldry of Sir Edward Walker’s making, which are very fine, there I observed the Duke of Monmouth’s armes are neatly done, and his title, “The most noble and highborn Prince, James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, etc.;” nor could Sir J. Minnes, nor anybody there, tell whence he should take the name of Scott.2334 And then I found my Lord Sandwich, his title under his armes is, “The most noble and mighty Lord, Edward, Earl of Sandwich, etc.” Sir Edward Walker afterwards coming in, in discourse did say that there was none of the families of princes in Christendom that do derive themselves so high as Julius Caesar, nor so far by 1,000 years, that can directly prove their rise; only some in Germany do derive themselves from the patrician families of Rome, but that uncertainly; and, among other things, did much inveigh against the writing of romances, that 500 years hence being wrote of matters in general, true as the romance of Cleopatra,2335 the world will not know which is the true and which the false. Here was a gentleman attending here that told us he saw the other day (and did bring the draught of it to Sir Francis Prigeon) of a monster born of an hostler’s wife at Salisbury, two women children perfectly made, joined at the lower part of their bellies, and every part perfect as two bodies, and only one pair of legs coming forth on one side from the middle where they were joined. It was alive 24 hours, and cried and did as all hopeful children do; but, being showed too much to people, was killed. By and by we were called in, where a great many lords: Annesly2336 in the chair. But, Lord! to see what work they will make us, and what trouble we shall have to inform men in a business they are to begin to know, when the greatest of our hurry is, is a thing to be lamented; and I fear the consequence will be bad to us. Thence I by coach to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, my head aching mightily with much business. Our little girl better than she was yesterday. After dinner out again by coach to my Lord Chancellor’s, but could not speak with him, then up and down to seek Sir Ph. Warwicke, Sir G. Carteret, and my Lord Berkely, but failed in all, and so home and there late at business. Among other things Mr. Turner making his complaint to me how my clerks do all the worke and get all the profit, and he hath no comfort, nor cannot subsist, I did make him apprehend how he is beholding to me more than to anybody for my suffering him to act as Pourveyour of petty provisions, and told him so largely my little value of anybody’s favour, that I believe he will make no complaints again a good while. So home to supper and to bed, after prayers, and having my boy and Mercer give me some, each of them some, music.
. Up, being frighted that Mr. Coventry was come to town and now at the office, so I run down without eating or drinking or washing to the office and it proved my Lord Berkeley. There all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, Mr. Wayth with me, and then to the office, where mighty busy till very late, but I bless God I go through with it very well and hope I shall.
. This morning to church, where mighty sport, to hear our clerke sing out of tune, though his master sits by him that begins and keeps the tune aloud for the parish. Dined at home very well, and spent all the afternoon with my wife within doors, and getting a speech out of Hamlet, “To bee or not to bee,”2337 without book. In the evening to sing psalms, and in come Mr. Hill to see me, and then he and I and the boy finely to sing, and so anon broke up after much pleasure, he gone I to supper, and so prayers and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, to the Lords of the Admiralty, and there did our business betimes. Thence to Sir Philip Warwicke about Navy business: and my Lord Ashly; and afterwards to my Lord Chancellor, who is very well pleased with me, and my carrying of his business. And so to the ’Change, where mighty busy; and so home to dinner, where Mr. Creed and Moore: and after dinner I to my Lord Treasurer’s, to Sir Philip Warwicke there, and then to Whitehall, to the Duke of Albemarle, about Tangier; and then homeward to the Coffeehouse to hear news. And it seems the Dutch, as I afterwards found by Mr. Coventry’s letters, have stopped a ship of masts of Sir W. Warren’s, coming for us in a Swede’s ship, which they will not release upon Sir G. Downing’s claiming her: which appears as the first act of hostility; and is looked upon as so by Mr. Coventry. The Elias,2338 coming from New England (Captain Hill, commander), is sunk; only the captain and a few men saved. She foundered in the sea. So home, where infinite busy till 12 at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. That I might not be too fine for the business I intend this day, I did leave off my fine new cloth suit lined with plush and put on my poor black suit, and after office done (where much business, but little done), I to the ’Change, and thence Bagwell’s wife with much ado followed me through Moorfields to a blind alehouse, and there I did caress her and eat and drink, and many hard looks and sooth the poor wretch did give me, and I think verily was troubled at what I did, but at last after many protestings by degrees I did arrive at what I would, with great pleasure, and then in the evening, it raining, walked into town to where she knew where she was, and then I took coach and to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where, and everywhere else, I thank God, I find myself growing in repute; and so home, and late, very late, at business, nobody minding it but myself, and so home to bed, weary and full of thoughts. Businesses grow high between the Dutch and us on every side.
. My wife not being well, waked in the night, and strange to see how dead sleep our people sleep that she was fain to ring an hour before anybody would wake. At last one rose and helped my wife, and so to sleep again. Up and to my business, and then to Whitehall, there to attend the Lords Commissioners, and so directly home and dined with Sir W. Batten and my Lady, and after dinner had much discourse tending to profit with Sir W. Batten, how to get ourselves into the prize office2339 or some other fair way of obliging the King to consider us in our extraordinary pains. Then to the office, and there all the afternoon very busy, and so till past 12 at night, and so home to bed. This day my wife went to the burial of a little boy of W. Joyce’s.
. Up and to my office, and there all the morning mighty busy, and taking upon me to tell the Comptroller how ill his matters were done, and I think indeed if I continue thus all the business of the office will come upon me whether I will or no. At noon to the ’Change, and then home with Creed to dinner, and thence I to the office, where close at it all the afternoon till 12 at night, and then home to supper and to bed. This day I received from Mr. Foley,2340 but for me to pay for it, if I like it, an iron chest, having now received back some money I had laid out for the King, and I hope to have a good sum of money by me, thereby, in a few days, I think above £800. But when I come home at night, I could not find the way to open it; but, which is a strange thing, my little girl Susan could carry it alone from one table clear from the ground and set upon another, when neither I nor anyone in my house but Jane the cook-maid could do it.
. Up and to the office, and thence to the Committee of the Fishery at Whitehall, where so poor simple doings about the business of the Lottery, that I was ashamed to see it, that a thing so low and base should have anything to do with so noble an undertaking. But I had the advantage this day to hear Mr. Williamson discourse, who come to be a contractor with others for the Lotteries, and indeed I find he is a very logicall man and a good speaker. But it was so pleasant to see my Lord Craven, the chairman, before many persons of worth and grave, use this comparison in saying that certainly these that would contract for all the lotteries would not suffer us to set up the Virginia lottery for plate before them, “For,” says he, “if I occupy a wench first, you may occupy her again your heart out you can never have her maidenhead after I have once had it,” which he did more loosely, and yet as if he had fetched a most grave and worthy instance. They made mirth, but I and others were ashamed of it. Thence to the ’Change and thence home to dinner, and thence to the office a good while, and thence to the Council chamber at Whitehall to speake with Sir G. Carteret, and here by accident heard a great and famous cause between Sir G. Lane2341 and one Mr. Phill. Whore, an Irish business about Sir G. Lane’s endeavouring to reverse a decree of the late Commissioners of Ireland in a Rebells case for his land, which the King had given as forfeited to Sir G. Lane, for whom the Solicitor did argue most angell like, and one of the Commissioners, Baron ⸻, did argue for the other and for himself and his brethren who had decreed it. But the Solicitor do so pay the Commissioners, how four all along did act for the Papists, and three only for the Protestants, by which they were overvoted, but at last one word (which was omitted in the Solicitor’s repeating of an Act of Parliament in the case) being insisted on by the other part, the Solicitor was put to a great stop, and I could discern he could not tell what to say, but was quite out. Thence home well pleased with this accident, and so home to my office, where late, and then to supper and to bed. This day I had a letter from Mr. Coventry, that tells me that my Lord Brunkard2342 is to be one of our Commissioners, of which I am very glad, if any more must be.
. All the morning at the office, and without dinner down by galley up and down the river to visit the yards and ships now ordered forth with great delight, and so home to supper, and then to office late to write letters, then home to bed.
. Up, and with my wife to church, where Pegg Penn very fine in her new coloured silk suit laced with silver lace. Dined at home, and Mr. Sheply, lately come to town, with me. A great deal of ordinary discourse with him. Among other things praying him to speak to Stankes to look after our business. With him and in private with Mr. Bodham talking of our ropeyarde stores at Woolwich, which are mighty low, even to admiration. They gone, in the evening comes Mr. Andrews and sings with us, and he gone, I to Sir W. Batten’s, where Sir J. Minnes and he and I to talk about our letter to my Lord Treasurer, where his folly and simple confidence so great in a report so ridiculous that he hath drawn up to present to my Lord, nothing of it being true, that I was ashamed, and did roundly and in many words for an houre together talk boldly to him, which pleased Sir W. Batten and my Lady, but I was in the right, and was the willinger to do so before them, that they might see that I am somebody, and shall serve him so in his way another time. So home vexed at this night’s passage, for I had been very hot with him, so to supper and to bed, out of order with this night’s vexation.
. Up, and with them to the Lords at Whitehall, where they do single me out to speake to and to hear, much to my content, and received their commands, particularly in several businesses. Thence by their order to the Attorney General’s about a new warrant for Captain Taylor2343 which I shall carry for him to be Commissioner in spite of Sir W. Batten, and yet indeed it is not I, but the ability of the man, that makes the Duke and Mr. Coventry stand by their choice. I to the ’Change and there stayed long doing business, and this day for certain news is come that Teddiman2344 hath brought in eighteen or twenty Dutchmen, merchants, their Bourdeaux fleet, and two men of war to Portsmouth. And I had letters this afternoon, that three are brought into the Downs and Dover; so that the war is begun: God give a good end to it! After dinner at home all the afternoon busy, and at night with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes looking over the business of stating the accounts of the navy charge to my Lord Treasurer, where Sir J. Minnes’s paper served us in no stead almost, but was all false, and after I had done it with great pains, he being by, I am confident he understands not one word in it. At it till 10 at night almost. Thence by coach to Sir Philip Warwicke’s, by his desire to have conferred with him, but he being in bed, I to Whitehall to the Secretaries, and there wrote to Mr. Coventry, and so home by coach again, a fine clear moonshine night, but very cold. Home to my office awhile, it being past 12 at night; and so to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Sir G. Carteret, upon a motion of Sir W. Batten’s, did promise, if we would write a letter to him, to show it to the King on our behalf touching our desire of being Commissioners of the Prize office.2345 I wrote a letter to my mind and, after eating a bit at home (Mr. Sheply dining and taking his leave of me), abroad and to Sir G. Carteret with the letter and thence to my Lord Treasurer’s; wherewith Sir Philip Warwicke long studying all we could to make the last year swell as high as we could. And it is much to see how he do study for the King, to do it to get all the money from the Parliament all he can: and I shall be serviceable to him therein, to help him to heads upon which to enlarge the report of the expense. He did observe to me how obedient this Parliament was for awhile, and the last sitting how they begun to differ, and to carp at the King’s officers; and what they will do now, he says, is to make agreement for the money, for there is no guess to be made of it. He told me he was prepared to convince the Parliament that the Subsidies are a most ridiculous tax (the four last not rising to £40,000), and unequall. He talks of a tax of Assessment of £70,000 for five years; the people to be secured that it shall continue no longer than there is really a war; and the charges thereof to be paid. He told me, that one year of the late Dutch war cost £1,623,000. Thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, and there stayed long with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, to speak with my lord about our Prize Office business; but, being sicke and full of visitants, we could not speak with him, and so away home. Where Sir Richard Ford did meet us with letters from Holland this day, that it is likely the Dutch fleet will not come out this year; they have not victuals to keep them out, and it is likely they will be frozen before they can get back.2346 Captain Cocke2347 is made Steward for sick and wounded seamen. So home to supper, where troubled to hear my poor boy Tom has a fit of the stone, or some other pain like it. I must consult Mr. Holliard for him. So at one in the morning home to bed.
. Up and to my office, where close all the morning about my Lord Treasurer’s accounts, and at noon home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon very busy till very late at night, and then to supper and to bed. This evening Mr. Hollyard came to me and told me that he hath searched my boy, and he finds he hath a stone in his bladder, which grieves me to the heart, he being a good-natured and well-disposed boy, and more that it should be my misfortune to have him come to my house. Sir G. Carteret was here this afternoon; and strange to see how we plot to make the charge of this war to appear greater than it is, because of getting money.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning busy answering of people. About noon out with Commissioner Pett, and he and I to a Coffeehouse, to drink chocolate,2348 very good; and so by coach to Westminster, being the first day of the Parliament’s meeting. After the House had received the King’s speech, and what more he had to say, delivered in writing, the Chancellor being sicke, it rose, and I with Sir Philip Warwicke home and conferred our matters about the charge of the Navy, and have more to give him in the excessive charge of this year’s expense. I dined with him, and Mr. Povy with us and Sir Edmund Pooly, a fine gentleman, and Mr. Chichly, and fine discourse we had and fine talk, being proud to see myself accepted in such company and thought better than I am. After dinner Sir Philip and I to talk again, and then away home to the office, where sat late; beginning our sittings now in the afternoon, because of the Parliament; and they being rose, I to my office, where late till almost one o’clock, and then home to bed.
. Up and at my office all the morning, to prepare an account of the charge we have been put to extraordinary by the Dutch already; and I have brought it to appear £852,700; but God knows this is only a scare to the Parliament, to make them give the more money. Thence to the Parliament House, and there did give it to Sir Philip Warwicke; the House being hot upon giving the King a supply of money, and I by coach to the ’Change and took up Mr. Jenings along with me (my old acquaintance), he telling me the mean manner that Sir Samuel Morland lives near him,2349 in a house he hath bought and laid out money upon, in all to the value of £1,200, but is believed to be a beggar; and so I ever thought he would be. From the ’Change with Mr. Deering and Luellin to the White Horse tavern in Lombard Street, and there dined with them, he giving me a dish of meat to discourse in order to my serving Deering, which I am already obliged to do, and shall do it, and would be glad he were a man trusty that I might venture something along with him. Thence home, and by and by in the evening took my wife out by coach, leaving her at Unthanke’s while I to Whitehall and to Westminster Hall, where I have not been to talk a great while, and there hear that Mrs. Lane and her husband live a sad life together, and he is gone to be a paymaster to a company to Portsmouth to serve at sea. She big with child. Thence I home, calling my wife, and at Sir W. Batten’s hear that the House have given the King £2,500,000 to be paid for this war, only for the Navy, in three years’ time; which is a joyful thing to all the King’s party I see, but was much opposed by Mr. Vaughan and others,2350 that it should be so much. So home and to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning. Home a while to dinner and then to the office, where very late busy till quite weary, but contented well with my dispatch of business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. To church in the morning, then dined at home, and to my office, and there all the afternoon setting right my business of flags, and after all my pains find reason not to be sorry, because I think it will bring me considerable profit. In the evening come Mr. Andrews and Hill, and we sung, with my boy, Ravenscroft’s 4-part psalms,2351 most admirable music. Then (Andrews not staying) we to supper, and after supper fell into the rarest discourse with Mr. Hill2352 about Rome and Italy; but most pleasant that I ever had in my life. At it very late and then to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and W. Batten to Whitehall, but no Committee of Lords (which is like to do the King’s business well). So to Westminster, and there to Jervas’s and was a little while with Jane, and so to London by coach and to the Coffeehouse, where certain news of our peace made by Captain Allen with Argier, which is good news; and that the Dutch have sent part of their fleet round by Scotland; and resolve to pay off the rest half-pay, promising the rest in the Spring, hereby keeping their men. But how true this, I know not. Home to dinner, then come Dr. Clerke to speak with me about sick and wounded men, wherein he is like to be concerned. After him Mr. Cutler, and much talk with him, and with him to Whitehall, to have waited on the Lords by order, but no meeting, neither tonight, which will spoil all. I think I shall get something by my discourse with Cutler. So home, and after being at my office an hour with Mr. Povy talking about his business of Tangier, getting him some money allowed him for freight of ships, wherein I hope to get something too. He gone, home hungry and almost sick for want of eating, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to the Committee of Lords at the Council Chamber, where Sir G. Carteret told us what he had said to the King, and how the King inclines to our request of making us Commissioners of the Prize office, but meeting him anon in the gallery, he tells me that my Lord Barkely is angry we should not acquaint him with it, so I found out my Lord and pacified him, but I know not whether he was so in earnest or no, for he looked very frowardly. Thence to the Parliament House, and with Sir W. Batten home and dined with him, my wife being gone to my Lady Sandwich’s, and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and I at my office till past 12 at night, and so home to bed. This day I hear that the King should say that the Dutch do begin to comply with him. Sir John Robinson told Sir W. Batten that he heard the King say so. I pray God it may be so.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to the Committee of the Lords, and there did our business; but, Lord! what a sorry dispatch these great persons give to business. Thence to the ’Change, and there hear the certainty and circumstances of the Dutch having called in their fleet and paid their men half-pay, the other to be paid them upon their being ready upon beat of drum to come to serve them again, and in the meantime to have half-pay. This is said. Thence home to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon. In the evening my wife and Sir W. Warren with me to Whitehall, sending her with the coach to see her father and mother. He and I up to Sir G. Carteret, and first I alone and then both had discourse with him about things of the Navy, and so I and he calling my wife at Unthanke’s, home again, and long together talking how to order things in a new contract for Norway goods, as well to the King’s as to his advantage. He gone, I to my monthly accounts, and, bless God! I find I have increased my last balance, though but little; but I hope ere long to get more. In the meantime praise God for what I have, which is £1,209. So, with my heart glad to see my accounts fall so right in this time of mixing of monies and confusion, I home to bed.
December 1664
. Up betimes and to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, and so straight home and hard to my business at my office till noon, then to dinner, and so to my office, and by and by we sat all the afternoon, then to my office again till past one in the morning, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed. Then up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At home dined. After dinner with my wife and Mercer to the Duke’s House, and there saw The Rivalls,2353 which I had seen before; but the play not good, nor anything but the good actings of Betterton and his wife and Harris. Thence homeward, and the coach broke with us in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and so walked to Fleet Street, and there took coach and home, and to my office, whither by and by comes Captain Cocke, and then Sir W. Batten, and we all to Sir J. Minnes, and I did give them a barrel of oysters I had given to me, and so there sat and talked, where good discourse of the late troubles, they knowing things, all of them, very well; and Cocke, from the King’s own mouth, being then entrusted himself much, do know particularly that the King’s credulity to Cromwell’s promises, private to him, against the advice of his friends and the certain discovery of the practices and discourses of Cromwell in council (by Major Huntington)2354 did take away his life and nothing else. Then to some loose atheisticall discourse of Cocke’s, when he was almost drunk, and then about 11 o’clock broke up, and I to my office, to fit up an account for Povy, wherein I hope to get something. At it till almost two o’clock, then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, and at noon to Mr. Cutler’s, and there dined with Sir W. Rider and him, and thence Sir W. Rider and I by coach to Whitehall to a Committee of the Fishery; there only to hear Sir Edward Ford’s proposal about farthings, wherein, O God! to see almost everybody interested for him; only my Lord Annesly,2355 who is a grave, serious man. My Lord Barkeley was there, but is the most hot, fiery man in discourse, without any cause, that ever I saw, even to breach of civility to my Lord Anglesey, in his discourse opposing to my Lord’s. At last, though without much satisfaction to me, it was voted that it should be requested of the King, and that Sir Edward Ford’s proposal is the best yet made. Thence by coach home. The Duke of York being expected tonight with great joy from Portsmouth, after his having been abroad at sea three or four days with the fleet; and the Dutch are all drawn into their harbours. But it seems like a victory: and a matter of some reputation to us it is, and blemish to them; but in no degree like what it is esteemed at, the weather requiring them to do so. Home and at my office late, and then to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and then up and to my office, there to dispatch a business in order to the getting something out of the Tangier business, wherein I have an opportunity to get myself paid upon the score of freight. I hope a good sum. At noon home to dinner, and then in the afternoon to church. So home, and by and by comes Mr. Hill and Andrews, and sung together long and with great content. Then to supper and broke up. Pretty discourse, very pleasant and ingenious, and so to my office a little, and then home (after prayers) to bed. This day I hear the Duke of York is come to town, though expected last night, as I observed, but by what hindrance stopped I can’t tell.
. Up, and to Whitehall with Sir J. Minnes; and there, among an infinite crowd of great persons, did kiss the Duke’s hand; but had no time to discourse. Thence up and down the gallery, and got my Lord of Albemarle’s hand to my bill for Povy, but afterwards was asked some scurvy questions by Povy about my demands, which troubled [me], but will do no great hurt I think. Thence vexed home, and there by appointment comes my cousin Roger Pepys and Mrs. Turner, and dined with me, and very merry we were. They stayed all the afternoon till night, and then after I had discoursed an hour with Sir W. Warren plainly declaring my resolution to desert him if he goes on to join with Castle, who and his family I, for great provocation, love not, which he takes with some trouble, but will concur in everything with me, he says. Now I am loth, I confess, to lose him, he having been the best friend I have had ever in this office. So he being gone, we all, it being night, in Madam Turner’s coach to her house, there to see, as she tells us, how fat Mrs. The. is grown, and so I find her, but not as I expected, but mightily pleased I am to hear the mother commend her daughter Betty that she is like to be a great beauty, and she sets much by her. Thence I to Whitehall, and there saw Mr. Coventry come to town, and, with all my heart, am glad to see him, but could have no talk with him, he being but just come. Thence back and took up my wife, and home, where a while, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and in Sir W. Batten’s coach to Whitehall, but the Duke being gone forth, I to Westminster Hall, and there spent much time till towards noon to and fro with people. So by and by Mrs. Lane comes and plucks me by the cloak to speak to me, and I was fain to go to her shop, and pretending to buy some bands made her go home, and by and by followed her, and there did what I would with her, and so after many discourses and her intreating me to do something for her husband, which I promised to do, and buying a little band of her, which I intend to keep to, I took leave, there coming a couple of footboys to her with a coach to fetch her abroad I know not to whom. She is great with child, and she says I must be godfather, but I do not intend it. Thence by coach to the Old Exchange, and there hear that the Dutch are fitting their ships out again, which puts us to new discourse, and to alter our thoughts of the Dutch, as to their want of courage or force. Thence by appointment to the White Horse Tavern in Lombard Street, and there dined with my Lord Rutherford, Povy, Mr. Gauden, Creed, and others, and very merry, and after dinner among other things Povy and I withdrew, and I plainly told him that I was concerned in profit, but very justly, in this business of the Bill that I have been these two or three days about, and he consents to it, and it shall be paid. He tells me how he believes, and in part knows, Creed to be worth £10,000; nay, that now and then he [Povy] hath three or £4,000 in his hands, for which he gives the interest that the King gives, which is ten percent, and that Creed do come and demand it every three months the interest to be paid him, which Povy looks upon as a cunning and mean tricke of him; but for all that, he will do and is very rich. Thence to the office, where we sat and where Mr. Coventry came the first time after his return from sea, which I was glad of. So after office to my office, and then home to supper, and to my office again, and then late home to bed.
. Lay long, then up, and among others Bagwell’s wife coming to speak with me put new thoughts of folly into me which I am troubled at. Thence after doing business at my office, I by coach to my Lady Sandwich’s, and there dined with her, and found all well and merry. Thence to Whitehall, and we waited on the Duke, who looks better than he did, methinks, before his voyage; and, I think, a little more stern than he used to do. Thence to the Temple to my cousin Roger Pepys, thinking to have met the Doctor to have discoursed our business, but he came not, so I home, and there by agreement came my Lord Rutherford, Povy, Gauden, Creed, Alderman Backewell, about Tangier business of accounts between Rutherford and Gauden. Here they were with me an hour or more, then after drinking away, and Povy and Creed stayed and eat with me; but I was sorry I had no better cheer for Povy; for the foole may be useful, and is a cunning fellow in his way, which is a strange one, and that, that I meet not in any other man, nor can describe in him. They late with me, and when gone my boy and I to music, and then to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where all the morning busy. At noon dined at home, and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon. In the evening comes my aunt and uncle Wight, Mrs. Norbury,2356 and her daughter, and after them Mr. Norbury, where no great pleasure, my aunt2357 being out of humour in her fine clothes, and it raining hard. Besides, I was a little too bold with her about her doting on Dr. Venner. Anon they went away, and I till past 12 at night at my office, and then home to bed.
. Up betimes and walked to Mr. Povy’s, and there, not without some few troublesome questions of his, I got a note, and went and received £117 5s. of Alderman Viner upon my pretended freight of the William2358 for Tangier, which overbears me on one side with joy and on the other to think of my condition if I shall be called into examination about it, and (though in strictness it is due) not be able to give a good account of it. Home with it, and there comes Captain Taylor to me, and he and I did set even the business of the ship Union lately gone for Tangier, wherein I hope to get £50 more, for all which the Lord be praised. At noon home to dinner, Mr. Hunt and his wife with us, and very pleasant. Then in the afternoon I carried them home by coach, and I to Westminster Hall, and thence to Gervas’s, and there find I cannot prevail with Jane to go forth with me, but though I took a good occasion of going to the Trumpet she declined coming, which vexed me. Je avait grande envie envers elle, avec vrai amour et passion. Thence home and to my office till one in the morning, setting to rights in writing this day’s two accounts of Povy and Taylor, and then quietly to bed. This day I had several letters from several places, of our bringing in great numbers of Dutch ships.
. Lay long, at which I am ashamed, because of so many people observing it that know not how late I sit up, and for fear of Sir W. Batten’s speaking of it to others, he having stayed for me a good while. At the office all the morning, where comes my Lord Brunkard with his patent in his hand, and delivered it to Sir J. Minnes and myself, we alone being there all the day, and at noon I in his coach with him to the ’Change, where he set me down; a modest civil person he seems to be, but wholly ignorant in the business of the Navy as possible, but I hope to make a friend of him, being a worthy man. Thence after hearing the great news of so many Dutchmen being brought in to Portsmouth and elsewhere, which it is expected will either put them upon present revenge or despair, I with Sir W. Rider and Cutler to dinner all alone to the Great James, where good discourse, and, I hope, occasion of getting something hereafter. After dinner to Whitehall to the Fishery, where the Duke was with us. So home, and late at my office, writing many letters, then home to supper and to bed. Yesterday come home, and this night I visited Sir W. Penn, who dissembles great respect and love to me, but I understand him very well. Major Holmes is come from Guinea, and is now at Plymouth with great wealth, they say.
. Up and to church alone in the morning. Dined at home, mighty pleasantly. In the afternoon I to the French church,2359 where much pleased with the three sisters of the parson, very handsome, especially in their noses, and sing prettily. I heard a good sermon of the old man, touching duty to parents. Here was Sir Samuel Morland and his lady very fine, with two footmen in new liveries (the church taking much notice of them), and going into their coach after sermon with great gazing. So I home, and my cousin, Mary Pepys’s husband, comes after me, and told me that out of the money he received some months since he did receive 18d. too much, and did now come and give it me, which was very pretty. So home, and there found Mr. Andrews and his lady, a well-bred and a tolerable pretty woman, and by and by Mr. Hill and to singing, and then to supper, then to sing again, and so good night. To prayers and tonight [bed]. It is a little strange how these Psalms of Ravenscroft2360 after 2 or 3 times singing prove but the same again, though good. No diversity appearing at all almost.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten by coach to Whitehall, where all of us with the Duke; Mr. Coventry privately did tell me the reason of his advice against our pretences to the Prize Office (in his letter from Portsmouth), because he knew that the King and the Duke had resolved to put in some Parliament men that have deserved well, and that would needs be obliged, by putting them in. Thence homeward, called at my bookseller’s and bespoke some books against the year’s out, and then to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, and then to the office, where my Lord Brunkard comes and reads over part of our Instructions in the Navy,2361 and I expounded it to him, so he is become my disciple. He gone, comes Cutler to tell us that the King of France hath forbid any canvass to be carried out of his kingdom, and I to examine went with him to the East India house to see a letter, but came too late. So home again, and there late till 12 at night at my office, and then home to supper and to bed. This day (to see how things are ordered in the world), I had a command from the Earl of Sandwich, at Portsmouth, not to be forward with Mr. Cholmly and Sir J. Lawson about the Mole at Tangier, because that what I do therein will (because of his friendship to me known) redound against him, as if I had done it upon his score. So I wrote to my Lord my mistake, and am contented to promise never to pursue it more, which goes against my mind with all my heart.
. Lay long in bed, then up, and many people to speak with me. Then to my office, and dined at noon at home, then to the office again, where we sat all the afternoon, and then home at night to a little supper, and so after my office again at 12 at night home to bed.
. Up, and after a while at the office, I abroad in several places, among others to my bookseller’s, and there spoke for several books against New Year’s day, I resolving to lay out about £7 or £8, God having given me some profit extraordinary of late; and bespoke also some plate, spoons, and forks. I pray God keep me from too great expenses, though these will still be pretty good money. Then to the ’Change, and I home to dinner, where Creed and Mr. Caesar,2362 my boy’s lute master, who plays indeed mighty finely, and after dinner I abroad, parting from Creed, and away to and fro, laying out or preparing for laying out more money, but I hope and resolve not to exceed therein, and tonight spoke for some fruit for the country for my father against Christmas, and where should I do it, but at the pretty woman’s, that used to stand at the door in Fenchurch Street, I having a mind to know her. So home, and late at my office, evening reckonings with Shergoll, hoping to get money by the business, and so away home to supper and to bed, not being very well through my taking cold of late, and so troubled with some wind.
. Called up very betimes by Mr. Cholmly, and with him a good while about some of his Tangier accounts; and, discoursing of the condition of Tangier, he did give me the whole account of the differences between Fitzgerald and Norwood, which were very high on both sides, but most imperious and base on Fitzgerald’s, and yet through my Lord FitzHarding’s2363 means, the Duke of York is led rather to blame Norwood and to speake that he should be called home, than be sensible of the other. He is a creature of FitzHarding’s, as a fellow that may be done with what he will, and, himself certainly pretending to be General of the King’s armies, when Monk dyeth, desires to have as few great or wise men in employment as he can now, but such as he can put in and keep under, which he do this coxcomb Fitzgerald. It seems, of all mankind there is no man so led by another as the Duke is by Lord Muskerry2364 and this FitzHarding. Insomuch, as when the King would have him to be Privy-Purse, the Duke wept, and said, “But, Sir, I must have your promise, if you will have my dear Charles from me, that if ever you have occasion for an army again, I may have him with me; believing him to be the best commander of an army in the world.” But Mr. Cholmly thinks, as all other men I meet with do, that he is a very ordinary fellow. It is strange how the Duke also do love naturally, and affect the Irish above the English.2365 He, of the company he carried with him to sea, took above two-thirds Irish and French. He tells me the King do hate my Lord Chancellor; and that they, that is the King and my Lord FitzHarding, do laugh at him for a dull fellow; and in all this business of the Dutch war do nothing by his advice, hardly consulting him. Only he is a good minister in other respects, and the King cannot be without him; but, above all, being the Duke’s father-in-law, he is kept in; otherwise FitzHarding were able to fling down two of him. This, all the wise and grave lords see, and cannot help it; but yield to it. But he bemoans what the end of it may be, the King being ruled by these men, as he hath been all along since his coming; to the razing all the strongholds in Scotland, and giving liberty to the Irish in Ireland, whom Cromwell had settled all in one corner; who are now able, and it is feared everyday a massacre again among them. He being gone I abroad to the carrier’s, to see some things sent away to my father against Christmas, and thence to Moorfields, and there up and down to several houses to drink to look for a place pour rencontrer la femme de je sais quoi against next Monday, but could meet none. So to the Coffeehouse, where great talk of the Comet2366 seen in several places; and among our men at sea, and by my Lord Sandwich, to whom I intend to write about it tonight. Thence home to dinner, and then to the office, where all the afternoon, and in the evening home to supper, and then to the office late, and so to bed. This night I begun to burn wax candles in my closet at the office, to try the charge, and to see whether the smoke offends like that of tallow candles.
. Up, and by water to Deptford, thinking to have met la femme de Bagwell, but failed, and having done some business at the yard, I back again, it being a fine fresh morning to walk. Back again, Mr. Wayth walking with me to Halfway House talking about Mr. Castle’s fine knees2367 lately delivered in. In which I am well informed that they are not as they should be to make them knees, and I hope shall make good use of it to the King’s service. Thence home, and having dressed myself, to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and so abroad by coach with my wife, and bought a looking glasse by the Old Exchange, which costs me £5 5s. and 6s. for the hooks. A very fair glasse. So toward my cousin Scott’s, but meeting my Lady Sandwich’s coach, my wife turned back to follow them, thinking they might, as they did, go to visit her, and I ’light and to Mrs. Harman, and there stayed and talked in her shop with her, and much pleased I am with her. We talked about Anthony Joyce’s giving over trade and that he intends to live in lodgings, which is a very mad, foolish thing. She tells me she hears and believes it is because he, being now begun to be called on offices, resolves not to take the new oathe, he having formerly taken the Covenant or Engagement, but I think he do very simply and will endeavour for his wife’s sake to advise him therein. Thence to my cousin Scott’s, and there met my cousin Roger Pepys, and Mrs. Turner, and The. and Joyce, and prated all the while, and so with the “corps” to church and heard a very fine sermon of the Parson of the parish, and so homeward with them in their coach, but finding it too late to go home with me, I took another coach and so home, and after a while at my office, home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon I to the ’Change, and there, among others, had my first meeting with Mr. L’Estrange,2368 who hath endeavoured several times to speak with me. It is to get, now and then, some news of me, which I shall, as I see cause, give him. He is a man of fine conversation, I think, but I am sure most courtly and full of compliments. Thence home to dinner, and then come the looking-glass man to set up the looking-glass I bought yesterday, in my dining room, and very handsome it is. So abroad by coach to Whitehall, and there to the Committee of Tangier, and then the Fishing. Mr. Povy did in discourse give me a rub about my late bill for money that I did get of him, which vexed me and stuck in my mind all this evening, though I know very well how to cleare myself at the worst. So home and to my office, where late, and then home to bed. Mighty talk there is of this Comet that is seen a’nights; and the King and Queen did sit up last night to see it, and did, it seems. And tonight I thought to have done so too; but it is cloudy, and so no stars appear. But I will endeavour it. Mr. Gray did tell me tonight, for certain, that the Dutch, as high as they seem, do begin to buckle;2369 and that one man in this Kingdom did tell the King that he is offered £40,000 to make a peace, and others have been offered money also. It seems the taking of their Bourdeaux fleet thus, arose from a printed Gazette of the Dutch’s boasting of fighting, and having beaten the English: in confidence whereof (it coming to Bourdeaux), all the fleet comes out, and so falls into our hands.
. To church, where, God forgive me! I spent most of my time in looking [on] my new Morena2370 at the other side of the church, an acquaintance of Pegg Penn’s. So home to dinner, and then to my chamber to read Ben Johnson’s Cataline,2371 a very excellent piece, and so to church again, and thence we met at the office to hire ships, being in great haste and having sent for several masters of ships to come to us. Then home, and there Mr. Andrews and Hill come and we sung finely, and by and by Mr. Fuller, the Parson, and supped with me, he and a friend of his, but my music friends would not stay supper. At and after supper Mr. Fuller and I told many stories of apparitions and delusions thereby, and I out with my stories of Tom Mallard. He gone, I a little to my office, and then to prayers and to bed.
. Going to bed betimes last night we waked betimes, and from our people’s being forced to take the key to go out to light a candle, I was very angry and begun to find fault with my wife for not commanding her servants as she ought. Thereupon she giving me some cross answer I did strike her over her left eye such a blow as the poor wretch did cry out and was in great pain, but yet her spirit was such as to endeavour to bite and scratch me. But I coying2372 with her made her leave crying, and sent for butter and parsley, and friends presently one with another, and I up, vexed at my heart to think what I had done, for she was forced to lay a poultice or something to her eye all day, and is black, and the people of the house observed it. But I was forced to rise, and up and with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, and there we waited on the Duke. And among other things Mr. Coventry took occasion to vindicate himself before the Duke and us, being all there, about the choosing of Taylor2373 for Harwich. Upon which the Duke did clear him, and did tell us that he did expect, that, after he had named a man, none of us shall then oppose or find fault with the man; but if we had anything to say, we ought to say it before he had chose him. Sir G. Carteret thought himself concerned, and endeavoured to clear himself: and by and by Sir W. Batten did speak, knowing himself guilty, and did confess, that being pressed by the Council he did say what he did, that he was accounted a fanatic; but did not know that at that time he had been appointed by his Royal Highness. To which the Duke [replied] that it was impossible but he must know that he had appointed him; and so it did appear that the Duke did mean all this while Sir W. Batten. So by and by we parted, and Mr. Coventry did privately tell me that he did this day take this occasion to mention the business to give the Duke an opportunity of speaking his mind to Sir W. Batten in this business, of which I was heartily glad. Thence home, and not finding Bagwell’s wife as I expected, I to the ’Change and there walked up and down, and then home, and she being come I bid her go and stay at Mooregate for me, and after going up to my wife (whose eye is very bad, but she is in very good temper to me), and after dinner I to the place and walked round the fields again and again, but not finding her I to the ’Change, and there found her waiting for me and took her away, and to an alehouse, and there I made much of her, and then away thence and to another and endeavoured to caress her, but elle ne voulait pas, which did vex me, but I think it was chiefly not having a good easy place to do it upon. So we broke up and parted and I to the office, where we sat hiring of ships an hour or two, and then to my office, and thence (with Captain Taylor home to my house) to give him instructions and some notice of what to his great satisfaction had happened today. Which I do because I hope his coming into this office will a little cross Sir W. Batten and may do me good. He gone, I to supper with my wife, very pleasant, and then a little to my office and to bed. My mind, God forgive me, too much running upon what I can ferais avec la femme de Bagwell demain, having promised to go to Deptford and a aller a sa maison avec son mari when I come thither.
. Up and walked to Deptford, where after doing something at the yard I walked, without being observed, with Bagwell home to his house, and there was very kindly used, and the poor people did get a dinner for me in their fashion, of which I also eat very well. After dinner I found occasion of sending him abroad, and then alone avec elle je tentais a faire ce que je voudrais et contre sa force je le faisais biens que passe a mon contentment. By and by he coming back again I took leave and walked home, and then there to dinner, where Dr. Fairbrother come to see me and Luellin. We dined, and I to the office, leaving them, where we sat all the afternoon, and I late at the office. To supper and to the office again very late, then home to bed.
. Up, and after evening reckonings to this day with Mr. Bridges, the linen draper, for calicos, I out to Doctors’ Commons, where by agreement my cousin Roger and I did meet my cousin Dr. Tom Pepys, and there a great many and some high words on both sides, but I must confess I was troubled; first, to find my cousin Roger such a simple but well-meaning man as he is; next to think that my father, out of folly and vain glory, should now and then (as by their words I gather) be speaking how he had set up his son Tom with his goods and house, and now these words are brought against him—I fear to the depriving him of all the profit the poor man intended to make of the lease of his house and sale of his own goods. I intend to make a quiet end if I can with the Doctor, being a very foul-tounged fool and of great inconvenience to be at difference with such a one that will make the base noise about it that he will. Thence, very much vexed to find myself so much troubled about other men’s matters, I to Mrs. Turner’s, in Salsbury Court, and with her a little, and carried her, the porter staying for me, our eagle, which she desired the other day, and we were glad to be rid of her, she fouling our house of office mightily. They are much pleased with her. And thence I home and after dinner to the office, where Sir W. Rider and Cutler come, and in dispute I very high with them against their demands, I hope to no hurt to myself, for I was very plain with them to the best of my reason. So they gone I home to supper, then to the office again and so home to bed. My Lord Sandwich this day writes me word that he hath seen (at Portsmouth) the Comet, and says it is the most extraordinary thing that ever he saw.
. Up and betimes to my office, and then out to several places, among others to Holborne to have spoke with one Mr. Underwood about some English hemp, he lies against Gray’s Inn. Thereabouts I to a barber’s shop to have my hair cut, and there met with a copy of verses, mightily commended by some gentlemen there, of my Lord Mordaunt’s,2374 in excuse of his going to sea this late expedition, with the Duke of York. But, Lord! they are but sorry things; only a Lord made them. Thence to the ’Change; and there, among the merchants, I hear fully the news of our being beaten to dirt at Guinea, by De Ruyter with his fleet. The particulars, as much as by Sir G. Carteret afterwards I heard, I have said in a letter to my Lord Sandwich this day at Portsmouth; it being most wholly to the utter ruin of our Royal Company, and reproach and shame to the whole nation, as well as justification to them in their doing wrong to no man as to his private [property], only taching whatever is found to belong to the Company, and nothing else. Dined at the Dolphin, Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and I, with Sir W. Boreman and Sir Theophilus Biddulph2375 and others, Commissioners of the Sewers, about our place below to lay masts in. But coming a little too soon, I out again, and tooke boat down to Redriffe; and just in time within two minutes, and saw the new vessel of Sir William Petty’s launched, the King and Duke being there.2376 It swims and looks finely, and I believe will do well. The name I think is Twilight, but I do not know certainly. Coming away back immediately to dinner, where a great deal of good discourse, and Sir G. Carteret’s discourse of this Guinea business, with great displeasure at the losse of our honour there, and do now confess that the trade brought all these troubles upon us between the Dutch and us. Thence to the office and there sat late, then I to my office and there till 12 at night, and so home to bed weary.
. Up and to my office, then come by appointment cousin Tom Trice to me, and I paid him the £20 remaining due to him upon the bond of £100 given him by agreement November, 1663, to end the difference between us about my aunt’s, his mother’s, money. And here, being willing to know the worst, I told him, “I hope now there is nothing remaining between you and I of future dispute.” “No,” says he, “nothing at all that I know of, but only a small matter of about 20 or 30s. that my father Pepys received for me of rent due to me in the country, which I will in a day or two bring you an account of,” and so we parted. Dined at home upon a good turkey which Mr. Sheply sent us, then to the office all the afternoon, Mr. Cutler and others coming to me about business. I hear that the Dutch have prepared a fleet to go the backway to the Streights, where without doubt they will master our fleet. This put to that of Guinea makes me fear them mightily, and certainly they are a most wise people, and careful of their business. The King of France, they say, do declare himself obliged to defend them, and lays claim by his Embassador to the wines we have taken from the Dutch Bourdeaux men, and more, it is doubted whether the Swede will be our friend or no. Pray God deliver us out of these troubles! This day Sir W. Batten sent and afterwards spoke to me, to have me and my wife come and dine with them on Monday next: which is a mighty condescension in them, and for some great reason I am sure, or else it pleases God by my late care of business to make me more considerable even with them than I am sure they would willingly own me to be. God make me thankful and careful to preserve myself so, for I am sure they hate me and it is hope or fear that makes them flatter me. It being a bright night, which it has not been a great while, I purpose to endeavour to be called in the morning to see the Comet, though I fear we shall not see it, because it rises in the east but 16 degrees, and then the houses will hinder us.
. Having sat up all night to past two o’clock this morning, our porter, being appointed, comes and tells us that the bellman tells him that the star is seen upon Tower Hill; so I, that had been all night setting in order all my old papers in my chamber, did leave off all, and my boy and I to Tower Hill, it being a most fine, bright moonshine night, and a great frost; but no Comet to be seen. So after running once round the Hill, I and Tom, we home and then to bed. Rose about 9 o’clock and then to the office, where sitting all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, to the Coffeehouse; and there heard Sir Richard Ford tell the whole story of our defeat at Guinea.2377 Wherein our men are guilty of the most horrid cowardice and perfidiousness, as he says and tells it, that ever Englishmen were. Captain Raynolds, that was the only commander of any of the King’s ships there, was shot at by De Ruyter, with a bloody flag flying. He, instead of opposing (which, indeed, had been to no purpose, but only to maintain honour), did poorly go on board himself, to ask what De Ruyter would have; and so yielded to whatever Ruyter would desire. The King and Duke are highly vexed at it, it seems, and the business deserves it. Thence home to dinner, and then abroad to buy some things, and among others to my bookseller’s, and there saw several books I spoke for, which are finely bound and good books to my great content. So home and to my office, where late. This evening I being informed did look and saw the Comet,2378 which is now, whether worn away or no I know not, but appears not with a tail, but only is larger and duller than any other star, and is come to rise betimes, and to make a great arch, and is gone quite to a new place in the heavens than it was before: but I hope in a clearer night something more will be seen. So home to bed.
. Up (my wife’s eye being ill still of the blow I did in a passion give her on Monday last) to church alone, where Mr. Mills, a good sermon. To dinner at home, where very pleasant with my wife and family. After dinner I to Sir W. Batten’s, and there received so much good usage (as I have of late done) from him and my Lady, obliging me and my wife, according to promise, to come and dine with them tomorrow with our neighbours, that I was in pain all the day, and night too after, to know how to order the business of my wife’s not going, and by discourse receive fresh instances of Sir J. Minnes’s folly in complaining to Sir G. Carteret of Sir W. Batten and me for some family offences, such as my having of a stopcock to keepe the water from them, which vexes me, but it would more but that Sir G. Carteret knows him very well. Thence to the French church, but coming too late I returned and to Mr. Rawlinson’s church, where I heard a good sermon of one that I remember was at Paul’s with me, his name Maggett;2379 and very great store of fine women there is in this church, more than I know anywhere else about us. So home and to my chamber, looking over and setting in order my papers and books, and so to supper, and then to prayers and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, and there with the rest did our usual business before the Duke, and then with Sir W. Batten back and to his house, where I by sickness excused my wife’s coming to them today. Thence I to the Coffeehouse, where much good discourse, and all the opinion now is that the Dutch will avoid fighting with us at home, but do all the hurte they can to us abroad; which it may be they may for a while, but that, I think, cannot support them long. Thence to Sir W. Batten’s, where Mr. Coventry and all our families here, women and all, and Sir R. Ford and his, and a great feast and good discourse and merry, there all the afternoon and evening till late, only stepped in to see my wife, then to my office to enter my day’s work, and so home to bed, where my people and wife innocently at cards very merry, and I to bed, leaving them to their sport and blindman’s buff.
. My people came to bed, after their sporting, at four o’clock in the morning; I up at seven, and to Deptford and Woolwich in a gally; the Duke calling to me out of the barge in which the King was with him going down the river, to know whither I was going. I told him to Woolwich, but was troubled afterward I should say no farther, being in a gally, lest he think me too profuse in my journeys. Did several businesses, and then back again by two o’clock to Sir J. Minnes’s to dinner by appointment, where all yesterday’s company but Mr. Coventry, who could not come. Here merry, and after an hour’s chat I down to the office, where busy late, and then home to supper and to bed. The Comet appeared again tonight, but duskishly. I went to bed, leaving my wife and all her folks, and Will also, too, come to make Christmas gambolls tonight.
. I waked in the morning about 6 o’clock and my wife not come to bed; I lacked a pot, but there was none, and bitter cold, so was forced to rise and piss in the chimney, and to bed again. Slept a little longer, and then hear my people coming up, and so I rose, and my wife to bed at eight o’clock in the morning, which vexed me a little, but I believe there was no hurt in it all, but only mirthe, therefore took no notice. I abroad with Sir W. Batten to the Council Chamber, where all of us to discourse about the way of measuring ships and the freight fit to give for them by the tun, where it was strange methought to hear so poor discourses among the Lords themselves, and most of all to see how a little empty matter delivered gravely by Sir W. Penn was taken mighty well, though nothing in the earth to the purpose. But clothes, I perceive more and more every day, is a great matter. Thence home with Sir W. Batten by coach, and I home to dinner, finding my wife still in bed. After dinner abroad, and among other things visited my Lady Sandwich, and was there, with her and the young ladies, playing at cards till night. Then home and to my office late, then home to bed, leaving my wife and people up to more sports, but without any great satisfaction to myself therein.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. Then whereas I should have gone and dined with Sir W. Penn (and the rest of the officers at his house), I pretended to dine with my Lady Sandwich and so home, where I dined well, and began to wipe and clean my books in my chamber in order to the settling of my papers and things there thoroughly, and then to the office, where all the afternoon sitting, and in the evening home to supper, and then to my work again.
. Lay very long in bed with my wife, it being very cold, and my wife very full of a resolution to keepe within doors, not so much as to go to church or see my Lady Sandwich before Easter next, which I am willing enough to, though I seem the contrary. This and other talk kept me abed till almost 10 a’clock. Then up and made an end of looking over all my papers and books and taking everything out of my chamber to have all made clean. At noon dined, and after dinner forth to several places to pay away money, to clear myself in all the world, and, among others, paid my bookseller £6 for books I had from him this day, and the silversmith £22 18s. for spoons, forks, and sugar box, and being well pleased with seeing my business done to my mind as to my meeting with people and having my books ready for me, I home and to my office, and there did business late, and then home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and after dinner there again, dispatched first my letters, and then to my accounts, not of the month but of the whole yeare also, and was at it till past twelve at night, it being bitter cold; but yet I was well satisfied with my worke, and, above all, to find myself, by the great blessing of God, worth £1,349, by which, as I have spent very largely, so I have laid up above £500 this yeare above what I was worth this day twelvemonth. The Lord make me forever thankful to his holy name for it! Thence home to eat a little and so to bed. Soon as ever the clock struck one, I kissed my wife in the kitchen by the fireside, wishing her a merry new yeare, observing that I believe I was the first proper wisher of it this year, for I did it as soon as ever the clock struck one.
So ends the old yeare, I bless God, with great joy to me, not only from my having made so good a yeare of profit, as having spent £420 and laid up £540 and upwards; but I bless God I never have been in so good plight as to my health in so very cold weather as this is, nor indeed in any hot weather, these ten years, as I am at this day, and have been these four or five months. But I am at a great losse to know whether it be my hare’s foote,2380 or taking every morning of a pill of turpentine, or my having left off the wearing of a gown. My family is, my wife, in good health, and happy with her; her woman Mercer, a pretty, modest, quiet maid; her chambermaid Besse, her cook-maid Jane, the little girl Susan, and my boy, which I have had about half a yeare, Tom Edwards, which I took from the King’s chapel, and a pretty and loving quiet family I have as any man in England. My credit in the world and my office grows daily, and I am in good esteeme with everybody, I think. My troubles of my uncle’s estate pretty well over; but it comes to be but of little profit to us, my father being much supported by my purse. But great vexations remain upon my father and me from my brother Tom’s death and ill condition, both to our disgrace and discontent, though no great reason for either. Public matters are all in a hurry about a Dutch war. Our preparations great; our provocations against them great; and, after all our presumption, we are now afeard as much of them, as we lately contemned them. Everything else in the State quiet, blessed be God! My Lord Sandwich at sea with the fleet at Portsmouth; sending some about to cruise for taking of ships, which we have done to a great number. This Christmas I judged it fit to look over all my papers and books; and to tear all that I found either boyish or not to be worth keeping, or fit to be seen, if it should please God to take me away suddenly. Among others, I found these two or three notes, which I thought fit to keep–
Sanguis mane in te, Sicut Christus fuit in se; Sanguis mane in tuâ venâ Sicut Christus in suâ pœnâ; Sanguis mane fixus, Sicut Christus quando fuit crucifixus.
2. A Thorne.
Jesus, that was of a Virgin born, Was pricked both with nail and thorn; It neither wealed, nor belled, rankled, nor boned; In the name of Jesus no more shall this.
Or, thus:—
Christ was of a Virgin born, And he was pricked with a thorn; And it did neither bell, nor swell; And I trust in Jesus this never will.
3. A Cramp.
Cramp be thou faintless, As our Lady was sinless, When she bare Jesus.
4. A Burning.
There came three Angells out of the East; The one brought fire, the other brought frost— Out fire; in frost. In the name of the Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost.
January 1664–65
. Lay long in bed, having been busy late last night, then up and to my office, where upon ordering my accounts and papers with respect to my understanding my last year’s gains and expense, which I find very great, as I have already set down yesterday. Now this day I am dividing my expense, to see what my clothes and every particular hath stood me in: I mean all the branches of my expense. At noon a good venison pasty and a turkey to ourselves without anybody so much as invited by us, a thing unusuall for so small a family of my condition: but we did it and were very merry. After dinner to my office again, where very late alone upon my accounts, but have not brought them to order yet, and very intricate I find it, notwithstanding my care all the year to keep things in as good method as any man can do. Past 11 o’clock home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and it being a most fine, hard frost I walked a good way toward Whitehall, and then being overtaken with Sir W. Penn’s coach, went into it, and with him thither, and there did our usual business with the Duke. Thence, being forced to pay a great deal of money away in boxes (that is, basins at Whitehall), I to my barber’s, Gervas, and there had a little opportunity of speaking with my Jane alone, and did give her something, and of herself she did tell me a place where I might come to her on Sunday next, which I will not fail, but to see how modestly and harmlessly she brought it out was very pretty. Thence to the Swan, and there did sport a good while with Herbert’s young kinswoman without hurt, though they being abroad, the old people. Then to the Hall, and there agreed with Mrs. Martin, and to her lodgings which she has now taken to lie in, in Bow Street, pitiful poor things, yet she thinks them pretty, and so they are for her condition I believe good enough. Here I did ce que je voudrais avec her most freely, and it having cost 2s. in wine and cake upon her, I away sick of her impudence, and by coach to my Lord Brunker’s, by appointment, in the Piazza, in Covent-Guarding; where I occasioned much mirth with a ballet2385 I brought with me, made from the seamen at sea to their ladies in town; saying Sir W. Penn, Sir G. Ascue, and Sir J. Lawson made them. Here a most noble French dinner and banquet, the best I have seen this many a day and good discourse. Thence to my bookseller’s and at his binder’s saw Hooke’s book of the Microscope,2386 which is so pretty that I presently bespoke it, and away home to the office, where we met to do something, and then though very late by coach to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s, but having company with him could not speak with him. So back again home, where thinking to be merry was vexed with my wife’s having looked out a letter in Sir Philip Sidney about jealousy for me to read, which she industriously and maliciously caused me to do, and the truth is my conscience told me it was most proper for me, and therefore was touched at it, but tooke no notice of it, but read it out most frankly, but it stucke in my stomach, and moreover I was vexed to have a dog brought to my house to line our little bitch, which they make him do in all their sights, which, God forgive me, do stir my jealousy again, though of itself the thing is a very immodest sight. However, to cards with my wife a good while, and then to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s,2387 the street being full of footballs, it being a great frost, and found him and Mr. Coventry walking in St. James’s Park. I did my errand to him about the felling of the King’s timber in the forests, and then to my Lord of Oxford,2388 Justice in Eyre, for his consent thereto, for want whereof my Lord Privy Seale stops the whole business. I found him in his lodgings, in but an ordinary furnished house and roome where he was, but I find him to be a man of good discreet replies. Thence to the Coffeehouse, where certain news that the Dutch have taken some of our colliers to the North; some say four, some say seven. Thence to the ’Change a while, and so home to dinner and to the office, where we sat late, and then I to write my letters, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, who is going out of town to Harwich tomorrow to set up a lighthouse there, which he hath lately got a patent from the King to set up, that will turne much to his profit. Here very merry, and so to my office again, where very late, and then home to supper and to bed, but sat up with my wife at cards till past two in the morning.
. Lay long, and then up and to my Lord of Oxford’s, but his Lordship was in bed at past ten o’clock: and, Lord help us! so rude a dirty family I never saw in my life. He sent me out word my business was not done, but should against the afternoon. I thence to the Coffeehouse, there but little company, and so home to the ’Change, where I hear of some more of our ships lost to the Northward. So to Sir W. Batten’s, but he was set out before I got thither. I sat long talking with my lady, and then home to dinner. Then come Mr. Moore to see me, and he and I to my Lord of Oxford’s, but not finding him within Mr. Moore and I to Love in a Tubb,2389 which is very merry, but only so by gesture, not wit at all, which methinks is beneath the House. So walked home, it being a very hard frost, and I find myself as heretofore in cold weather to begin to burn within and pimples and pricks all over my body, my pores with cold being shut up. So home to supper and to cards and to bed.
. Up, it being very cold and a great snow and frost tonight. To the office, and there all the morning. At noon dined at home, troubled at my wife’s being simply angry with Jane, our cook-maid (a good servant, though perhaps hath faults and is cunning), and given her warning to be gone. So to the office again, where we sat late, and then I to my office, and there very late doing business. Home to supper and to the office again, and then late home to bed.
. Lay long in bed, but most of it angry and scolding with my wife about her warning Jane our cook-maid to be gone and upon that she desires to go abroad today to look a place. A very good maid she is and fully to my mind, being neat, only they say a little apt to scold, but I hear her not. To my office all the morning busy. Dined at home. To my office again, being pretty well reconciled to my wife, which I did desire to be, because she had designed much mirthe today to end Christmas with among her servants. At night home, being twelfenight, and there chose my piece of cake, but went up to my viol, and then to bed, leaving my wife and people up at their sports, which they continue till morning, not coming to bed at all.
. Up and to the office all the morning. At noon dined alone, my wife and family most of them abed. Then to see my Lady Batten and sit with her a while, Sir W. Batten being out of town, and then to my office doing very much business very late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and it being a very fine frosty day, I and my boy walked to Whitehall, and there to the Chapel, where one Dr. Beaumont2390 preached a good sermon, and afterwards a brave anthem upon the 150 Psalm, where upon the word “trumpet” very good music was made. So walked to my Lady’s and there dined with her (my boy going home), where much pretty discourse, and after dinner walked to Westminster, and there to the house where Jane Welsh had appointed me, but it being sermon time they would not let me in, and said nobody was there to speak with me. I spent the whole afternoon walking into the Church and Abbey, and up and down, but could not find her, and so in the evening took a coach and home, and there sat discoursing with my wife, and by and by at supper, drinking some cold drink I think it was, I was forced to go make water, and had very great pain after it, but was well by and by and continued so, it being only I think from the drink, or from my straining at stool to do more than my body would. So after prayers to bed.
. Up and walked to Whitehall, it being still a brave frost, and I in perfect good health, blessed be God! In my way saw a woman that broke her thigh, in her heels slipping up upon the frosty street. To the Duke, and there did our usual worke. Here I saw the Royal Society bring their new book, wherein is nobly writ their charter2391 and laws, and comes to be signed by the Duke as a Fellow; and all the Fellows’ hands are to be entered there, and lie as a monument; and the King hath put his with the word Founder. Thence I to Westminster, to my barber’s, and found occasion to see Jane, but in presence of her mistress, and so could not speak to her of her failing me yesterday, and then to the Swan to Herbert’s girl, and lost time a little with her, and so took coach, and to my Lord Crew’s and dined with him, who receives me with the greatest respect that could be, telling me that he do much doubt of the success of this war with Holland, we going about it, he doubts, by the instigation of persons that do not enough apprehend the consequences of the danger of it, and therein I do think with him. Holmes was this day sent to the Tower2392 but I perceive it is made matter of jest only; but if the Dutch should be our masters, it may come to be of earnest to him, to be given over to them for a sacrifice, as Sir W. Rawly [Raleigh] was. Thence to Whitehall to a Tangier Committee, where I was accosted and most highly complimented by my Lord Bellasses,2393 our new governor, beyond my expectation, or measure I could imagine he would have given any man, as if I were the only person of business that he intended to rely on, and desires my correspondence with him. This I was not only surprised at, but am well pleased with, and may make good use of it. Our patent is renewed, and he and my Lord Barkeley, and Sir Thomas Ingram2394 put in as commissioners. Here some business happened which may bring me some profit. Thence took coach and calling my wife at her tailor’s (she being come this afternoon to bring her mother some apples, neat’s tongues, and wine); I home, and there at my office late with Sir W. Warren, and had a great deal of good discourse and counsel from him, which I hope I shall take, being all for my good in my deportment in my office, yet with all honesty. He gone I home to supper and to bed.
. Lay long, it being still very cold, and then to the office, where till dinner, and then home, and by and by to the office, where we sat and were very late, and I writing letters till twelve at night, and then after supper to bed.
. Up, and very angry with my boy for lying long a bed and forgetting his lute. To my office all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and so home to dinner. After dinner to Gresham College to my Lord Brunker2395 and Commissioner Pett, taking Mr. Castle with me there to discourse over his draught of a ship he is to build for us. Where I first found reason to apprehend Commissioner Pett to be a man of an ability extraordinary in anything, for I found he did turn and wind Castle like a chicken in his business, and that most pertinently and mister-like, and great pleasure it was to me to hear them discourse, I, of late having studied something thereof, and my Lord Brunker is a very able person also himself in this sort of business, as owning himself to be a master in the business of all lines and Conicall Sections. Thence home, where very late at my office doing business to my content, though [God] knows with what ado it was that when I was out I could get myself to come home to my business, or when I was there though late would stay there from going abroad again. To supper and to bed. This evening, by a letter from Plymouth, I hear that two of our ships, the Leopard and another,2396 in the Straights, are lost by running aground; and that three more had like to have been so, but got off, whereof Captain Allen one: and that a Dutch fleet are gone thither; which if they should meet with our lame ships, God knows what would become of them. This I reckon most sad news; God make us sensible of it! This night, when I come home, I was much troubled to hear my poor canary bird, that I have kept these three or four years, is dead.
. Up, and to Whitehall about getting a privy seal for felling of the King’s timber for the navy, and to the Lords’ House to speak with my Lord Privy Seale about it, and so to the ’Change, where to my last night’s ill news I met more. Spoke with a Frenchman who was taken, but released, by a Dutch man-of-war of thirty-six guns (with seven more of the like or greater ships), off the North Foreland, by Margett. Which is a strange attempt, that they should come to our teeth; but the wind being easterly, the wind that should bring our force from Portsmouth, will carry them away home. God preserve us against them, and pardon our making them in our discourse so contemptible an enemy! So home and to dinner, where Mr. Hollyard with us dined. So to the office, and there late till 11 at night and more, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and walked to my Lord Bellasses’s lodgings in Lincolne’s Inne Fieldes, and there he received and discoursed with me in the most respectful manner that could be, telling me what a character of my judgment, and care, and love to Tangier he had received of me, that he desired my advice and my constant correspondence, which he much valued, and in my courtship, in which, though I understand his designe very well, and that it is only a piece of courtship, yet it is a comfort to me that I am become so considerable as to have him need to say that to me, which, if I did not do something in the world, would never have been. Here well satisfied I to Sir Ph. Warwicke, and there did some business with him; thence to Jervas’s and there spent a little idle time with him, his wife, Jane, and a sweetheart of hers. So to the Hall awhile and thence to the Exchange, where yesterday’s news confirmed, though in a little different manner; but a couple of ships in the Straights we have lost, and the Dutch have been in Margaret [Margate] Road. Thence home to dinner and so abroad and alone to the King’s house, to a play, The Traitor,2397 where, unfortunately, I met with Sir W. Penn, so that I must be forced to confess it to my wife, which troubles me. Thence walked home, being ill-satisfied with the present actings of the House, and prefer the other House before this infinitely. To my Lady Batten’s, where I find Pegg Penn, the first time that ever I saw her to wear spots. Here very merry, Sir W. Batten being looked for tonight, but is not yet come from Harwich. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to Whitehall, where long waited in the Duke’s chamber for a Committee intended for Tangier, but none met, and so I home and to the office, where we met a little, and then to the ’Change, where our late ill news confirmed in loss of two ships in the Straights, but are now the Phoenix and Nonsuch.2398 Home to dinner, thence with my wife to the King’s house, there to see Volpone,2399 a most excellent play; the best I think I ever saw, and well acted. So with Sir W. Penn home in his coach, and then to the office. So home, to supper, and bed, resolving by the grace of God from this day to fall hard to my business again, after some weeke or fortnight’s neglect.
. Up, and after a little at my office to prepare a fresh draught of my vowes for the next yeare, I to church, where a most insipid young coxcomb preached. Then home to dinner, and after dinner to read in Rushworth’s Collections2400 about the charge against the late Duke of Buckingham, in order to the fitting me to speak and understand the discourse anon before the King about the suffering the Turkey merchants to send out their fleet at this dangerous time, when we can neither spare them ships to go, nor men, nor King’s ships to convoy them. At four o’clock with Sir W. Penn in his coach to my Lord Chancellor’s, where by and by Mr. Coventry, Sir W. Penn, Sir J. Lawson, Sir G. Ascue, and myself were called in to the King, there being several of the Privy Council, and my Lord Chancellor lying at length upon a couch (of the gout I suppose); and there Sir W. Penn begun, and he had prepared heads in a paper, and spoke pretty well to purpose, but with so much leisure and gravity as was tiresome; besides, the things he said were but very poor to a man in his trade after a great consideration, but it was to purpose, indeed to dissuade the King from letting these Turkey ships to go out: saying (in short) the King having resolved to have 130 ships out by the spring, he must have above 20 of them merchantmen. Towards which, he in the whole River could find but 12 or 14, and of them the five ships taken up by these merchants were a part, and so could not be spared. That we should need 30,000 [sailors] to man these 130 ships, and of them in service we have not above 16,000; so we shall need 14,000 more. That these ships will with their convoys carry above 2,000 men, and those the best men that could be got; it being the men used to the Southward that are the best men for war, though those bred in the North among the colliers are good for labour. That it will not be safe for the merchants, nor honourable for the King, to expose these rich ships with his convoy of six ships to go, it not being enough to secure them against the Dutch, who, without doubt, will have a great fleet in the Straights. This, Sir J. Lawson enlarged upon. Sir G. Ascue he chiefly spoke that the war and trade could not be supported together, and, therefore, that trade must stand still to give way to them. This Mr. Coventry seconded, and showed how the medium of the men the King hath one year with another employed in his Navy since his coming, hath not been above 3,000 men, or at most 4,000 men; and now having occasion of 30,000, the remaining 26,000 must be found out of the trade of the nation. He showed how the clothes, sending by these merchants to Turkey, are already bought and paid for to the workmen, and are as many as they would send these twelve months or more; so the poor do not suffer by their not going, but only the merchant, upon whose hands they lie dead; and so the inconvenience is the less. And yet for them he propounded, either the King should, if his Treasure would suffer it, buy them, and showed the losse would not be so great to him: or, dispense with the Act of Navigation, and let them be carried out by strangers; and ending that he doubted not but when the merchants saw there was no remedy, they would and could find ways of sending them abroad to their profit. All ended with a conviction (unless future discourse with the merchants should alter it) that it was not fit for them to go out, though the ships be loaded. The King in discourse did ask me two or three questions about my news of Allen’s loss in the Streights, but I said nothing as to the business, nor am not much sorry for it, unless the King had spoke to me as he did to them, and then I could have said something to the purpose I think. So we withdrew, and the merchants were called in. Staying without, my Lord FitzHarding come thither, and fell to discourse of Prince Rupert, and made nothing to say that his disease was the pox and that he must be fluxed, telling the horrible degree of the disease upon him with its breaking out on his head. But above all I observed how he observed from the Prince, that courage is not what men take it to be, a contempt of death; for, says he, how chagrined the Prince was the other day when he thought he should die, having no more mind to it than another man. But, says he, some men are more apt to think they shall escape than another man in fight, while another is doubtful he shall be hit. But when the first man is sure he shall die, as now the Prince is, he is as much troubled and apprehensive of it as any man else; for, says he, since we told [him] that we believe he would overcome his disease, he is as merry, and swears and laughs and curses, and do all the things of a [man] in health, as ever he did in his life; which, methought, was a most extraordinary saying before a great many persons there of quality. So by and by with Sir W. Penn home again, and after supper to the office to finish my vows, and so to bed.
. Up and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, where we did our business with the Duke. Thence I to Westminster Hall and walked up and down. Among others Ned Pickering met me and tells me how active my Lord is at sea, and that my Lord Hinchingbroke is now at Rome, and, by all report, a very noble and hopeful gentleman. Thence to Mr. Povy’s, and there met Creed, and dined well after his old manner of plenty and curiosity. But I sat in pain to think whether he would begin with me again after dinner with his enquiry after my bill, but he did not, but fell into other discourse, at which I was glad, but was vexed this morning meeting of Creed at some bye questions that he demanded of me about some such thing, which made me fear he meant that very matter, but I perceive he did not. Thence to visit my Lady Sandwich and so to a Tangier Committee, where a great company of the new Commissioners, Lords, that in behalfe of my Lord Bellasses are very loud and busy and call for Povy’s accounts, but it was a most sorrowful thing to see how he answered to questions so little to the purpose, but to his own wrong. All the while I sensible how I am concerned in my bill of £100 and somewhat more. So great a trouble is fear, though in a case that at the worst will bear enquiry. My Lord Barkeley was very violent against Povy. But my Lord Ashly, I observe, is a most clear man in matters of accounts, and most ingeniously did discourse and explain all matters. We broke up, leaving the thing to a Committee of which I am one. Povy, Creed, and I stayed discoursing, I much troubled in mind seemingly for the business, but indeed only on my own behalf, though I have no great reason for it, but so painful a thing is fear. So after considering how to order business, Povy and I walked together as far as the New Exchange and so parted, and I by coach home. To the office a while, then to supper and to bed. This afternoon Secretary Bennet read to the Duke of York his letters, which say that Allen2401 has met with the Dutch Smyrna fleet at Cales2402 and sunk one and taken three. How true or what these ships are time will show, but it is good news and the news of our ships being lost is doubted at Cales and Malaga. God send it false!
. Up and walked to Mr. Povy’s by appointment, where I found him and Creed busy about fitting things for the Committee, and thence we to my Lord Ashly’s, where to see how simply, beyond all patience, Povy did again, by his many words and no understanding, confound himself and his business, to his disgrace, and rendering everybody doubtful of his being either a foole or knave, is very wonderful. We broke up all dissatisfied, and referred the business to a meeting of Mr. Sherwin and others to settle, but here it was mighty strange methought to find myself sit here in Committee with my hat on, while Mr. Sherwin stood bare as a clerke, with his hat off to his Lord Ashly and the rest, but I thank God I think myself never a whit the better man for all that. Thence with Creed to the ’Change and Coffeehouse, and so home, where a brave dinner, by having a brace of pheasants and very merry about Povy’s folly. So anon to the office, and there sitting very late, and then after a little time at Sir W. Batten’s, where I am mighty great and could if I thought it fit continue so, I to the office again, and there very late, and so home to the sorting of some of my books, and so to bed, the weather becoming pretty warm, and I think and hope the frost will break.
. Up and by and by to my bookseller’s, and there did give thorough direction for the new binding of a great many of my old books, to make my whole study of the same binding, within very few. Thence to my Lady Sandwich’s, who sent for me this morning. Dined with her, and it was to get a letter of hers conveyed by a safe hand to my Lord’s own hand at Portsmouth, which I did undertake. Here my Lady did begin to talk of what she had heard concerning Creed, of his being suspected to be a fanatic and a false fellow. I told her I thought he was as shrewd and cunning a man as any in England, and one that I would feare first should outwit me in anything. To which she readily concurred. Thence to Mr. Povy’s by agreement, and there with Mr. Sherwin, Auditor Beale, and Creed and I hard at it very late about Mr. Povy’s accounts, but such accounts I never did see, or hope again to see in my days. At night, late, they gone, I did get him to put out of this account our sums that are in posse only yet, which he approved of when told, but would never have stayed it if I had been gone. Thence at 9 at night home, and so to supper vexed and my head aching and to bed.
. Up, and it being yesterday and today a great thaw it is not for a man to walk the streets, but took coach and to Mr. Povy’s, and there meeting all of us again agreed upon an answer to the Lords by and by, and thence we did come to Exeter House,2403 and there was a witness of most [base] language against Mr. Povy, from my Lord Peterborough, who is most furiously angry with him, because the other, as a foole, would needs say that the £26,000 was my Lord Peterborough’s account, and that he had nothing to do with it. The Lords did find fault also with our answer, but I think really my Lord Ashly would fain have the outside of an Exchequer2404 but when we come better to be examined. So home by coach, with my Lord Barkeley, who, by his discourse, I find do look upon Mr. Coventry as an enemy but yet professes great justice and pains. I at home after dinner to the office, and there sat all the afternoon and evening, and then home to supper and to bed. Memorandum. This day and yesterday, I think it is the change of the weather, I have a great deal of pain, but nothing like what I use to have. I can hardly keep myself loose, but on the contrary am forced to drive away my pain. Here I am so sleepy I cannot hold open my eyes, and therefore must be forced to break off this day’s passages more shortly than I would and should have done. This day was buried (but I could not be there) my cousin Percivall Angier; and yesterday I received the news that Dr. Tom Pepys is dead, at Impington, for which I am but little sorry, not only because he would have been troublesome to us, but a shame to his family and profession; he was such a coxcomb.
. Up and to Westminster, where having spoke with Sir Ph. Warwicke, I to Jervas, and there I find them all in great disorder about Jane, her mistress telling me secretly that she was sworn not to reveal anything, but she was undone. At last for all her oath she told me that she had made herself sure to a fellow that comes to their house that can only fiddle for his living, and did keep him company, and had plainly told her that she was sure to him never to leave him for anybody else. Now they were this day contriving to get her presently to marry one Hayes that was there, and I did seem to persuade her to it. And at last got them to suffer me to advise privately, and by that means had her company and think I shall meet her next Sunday, but I do really doubt she will be undone in marrying this fellow. But I did give her my advice, and so let her do her pleasure, so I have now and then her company. Thence to the Swan at noon, and there sent for a bit of meat and dined, and had my baiser of the fille of the house there, but nothing plus. So took coach and to my Lady Sandwich’s, and so to my bookseller’s, and there took home Hooke’s book of microscopy, a most excellent piece, and of which I am very proud. So home, and by and by again abroad with my wife about several businesses, and met at the New Exchange, and there to our trouble found our pretty Doll is gone away to live they say with her father in the country, but I doubt something worse. So homeward, in my way buying a hare and taking it home, which arose upon my discourse today with Mr. Batten, in Westminster Hall, who showed me my mistake that my hare’s foote hath not the joint to it; and assures me he never had his colic since he carried it about him: and it is a strange thing how fancy works, for I no sooner almost handled his foote but my belly began to be loose and to break wind, and whereas I was in some pain yesterday and t’other day and in fear of more today, I became very well, and so continue. At home to my office a while, and so to supper, read, and to cards, and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. Thence my Lord Brunker carried me as far as Mr. Povy’s, and there I ’light and dined, meeting Mr. Sherwin, Creed, etc., there upon his accounts. After dinner they parted and Mr. Povy carried me to Somersett House, and there showed me the Queen-Mother’s chamber and closet, most beautiful places for furniture and pictures; and so down the great stone stairs to the garden, and tried the brave echo upon the stairs; which continues a voice so long as the singing three notes, concords, one after another, they all three shall sound in consort together a good while most pleasantly. Thence to a Tangier Committee at Whitehall, where I saw nothing ordered by judgment, but great heat and passion and faction now in behalf of my Lord Bellasses, and to the reproach of my Lord Tiviott, and dislike as it were of former proceedings. So away with Mr. Povy, he carrying me homeward to Mark Lane in his coach, a simple fellow I now find him, to his utter shame in his business of accounts, as none but a sorry foole would have discovered himself; and yet, in little, light, sorry things very cunning; yet, in the principal, the most ignorant man I ever met with in so great trust as he is. To my office till past 12, and then home to supper and to bed, being now mighty well, and truly I cannot but impute it to my fresh hare’s foote. Before I went to bed I sat up till two o’clock in my chamber reading of Mr. Hooke’s Microscopicall Observations, the most ingenious book that ever I read in my life.
. Up, leaving my wife in bed, being sick of her months, and to church. Thence home, and in my wife’s chamber dined very merry, discoursing, among other things, of a design I have come in my head this morning at church of making a match between Mrs. Betty Pickering and Mr. Hill,2405 my friend the merchant, that loves music and comes to me a’Sundays, a most ingenious and sweet-natured and highly accomplished person. I know not how their fortunes may agree, but their disposition and merits are much of a sort, and persons, though different, yet equally, I think, acceptable. After dinner walked to Westminster, and after being at the Abbey and heard a good anthem well sung there, I as I had appointed to the Trumpet, there expecting when Jane Welsh should come, but anon comes a maid of the house to tell me that her mistress and master would not let her go forth, not knowing of my being here, but to keep her from her sweetheart. So being defeated, away by coach home, and there spent the evening prettily in discourse with my wife and Mercer, and so to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to Whitehall; but there finding the Duke gone to his lodgings at St. James’s for all together, his Duchess being ready to lie in, we to him, and there did our usual business. And here I met the great news confirmed by the Duke’s own relation, by a letter from Captain Allen. First, of our own loss of two ships, the Phoenix and Nonesuch, in the Bay of Gibraltar: then of his, and his seven ships with him, in the Bay of Cales, or thereabouts, fighting with the 34 Dutch Smyrna fleet; sinking the King Salamon, a ship worth a £150,000 or more, some say £200,000, and another; and taking of three merchant-ships. Two of our ships were disabled, by the Dutch unfortunately falling against their will against them; the Advice, Captain W. Poole, and Antelope, Captain Clerke. The Dutch men-of-war did little service. Captain Allen did receive many shots at distance before he would fire one gun, which he did not do till he come within pistol-shot of his enemy. The Spaniards on shore at Cales did stand laughing at the Dutch, to see them run away and flee to the shore, 34 or thereabouts, against eight Englishmen at most. I do purpose to get the whole relation, if I live, of Captain Allen himself. In our loss of the two ships in the Bay of Gibraltar, it is observable how the world do comment upon the misfortune of Captain Moone2406 of the Nonesuch (who did lose, in the same manner, the Satisfaction), as a person that hath ill-luck attending him; without considering that the whole fleet was ashore. Captain Allen led the way, and Captain Allen himself writes that all the masters of the fleet, old and young, were mistaken, and did carry their ships aground. But I think I heard the Duke say that Moone, being put into the Oxford, had in this conflict regained his credit, by sinking one and taking another. Captain Seale of the Milford hath done his part very well, in boarding the King Salamon, which held out half an hour after she was boarded; and his men kept her an hour after they did master her, and then she sunk, and drowned about 17 of her men. Thence to Jervas’s, my mind, God forgive me, running too much after some folly, but elle not being within I away by coach to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner. And finding Mrs. Bagwell waiting at the office after dinner, away she and I to a cabaret where she and I have eat before, and there I had her company tout and had mon plaisir of elle. But strange to see how a woman, notwithstanding her greatest pretences of love a son mari and religion, may be vaincue. Thence to the Court of the Turkey Company at Sir Andrew Rickard’s to treat about carrying some men of ours to Tangier, and had there a very civil reception, though a denial of the thing as not practicable with them, and I think so too. So to my office a little and to Jervas’s again, thinking avoir rencontrais Jane, mais elle n’etait pas dedans. So I back again and to my office, where I did with great content ferais a vow to mind my business, and laisser aller les femmes for a month, and am with all my heart glad to find myself able to come to so good a resolution, that thereby I may follow my business, which and my honour thereby lies a bleeding. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by coach to Westminster Hall and the Parliament House, and there spoke with Mr. Coventry and others about business and so back to the ’Change, where no news more than that the Dutch have, by consent of all the Provinces, voted no trade to be suffered for eighteen months, but that they apply themselves wholly to the war.2407 And they say it is very true, but very strange, for we use to believe they cannot support themselves without trade. Thence home to dinner and then to the office, where all the afternoon, and at night till very late, and then home to supper and bed, having a great cold, got on Sunday last, by sitting too long with my head bare, for Mercer to comb my hair and wash my ears.
. Up, and busy all the morning, dined at home upon a hare pie, very good meat, and so to my office again, and in the afternoon by coach to attend the Council at Whitehall, but come too late, so back with Mr. Gifford, a merchant, and he and I to the Coffeehouse, where I met Mr. Hill, and there he tells me that he is to be Assistant to the Secretary of the Prize Office (Sir Ellis Layton), which is to be held at Sir Richard Ford’s, which, methinks, is but something low, but perhaps may bring him something considerable; but it makes me alter my opinion of his being so rich as to make a fortune for Mrs. Pickering. Thence home and visited Sir J. Minnes, who continues ill, but is something better; there he told me what a mad freaking fellow Sir Ellis Layton hath been, and is, and once at Antwerp was really mad. Thence to my office late, my cold troubling me, and having by squeezing myself in a coach hurt my testicles, but I hope will cease its pain without swelling. So home out of order, to supper and to bed.
. Lay, being in some pain, but not much, with my last night’s bruise, but up and to my office, where busy all the morning, the like after dinner till very late, then home to supper and to bed. My wife mightily troubled with the tooth ache, and my cold not being gone yet, but my bruise yesterday goes away again, and it chiefly occasioned I think now from the sudden change of the weather from a frost to a great rain on a sudden.
. Called up by Mr. Creed to discourse about some Tangier business, and he gone I made me ready and found Jane Welsh, Mr. Jervas his maid, come to tell me that she was gone from her master, and is resolved to stick to this sweetheart of hers, one Harbing (a very sorry little fellow, and poor), which I did in a word or two endeavour to dissuade her from, but being unwilling to keep her long at my house, I sent her away and by and by followed her to the Exchange, and thence led her about down to the 3 Cranes, and there took boat for the Falcon, and at a house looking into the fields there took up and sat an hour or two talking and discoursing. … Thence having endeavoured to make her think of making herself happy by staying out her time with her master and other counsels, but she told me she could not do it, for it was her fortune to have this man, though she did believe it would be to her ruin, which is a strange, stupid thing, to a fellow of no kind of worth in the world and a beggar to boot. Thence away to boat again and landed her at the Three Cranes again, and I to the Bridge, and so home, and after shifting myself, being dirty, I to the ’Change, and thence to Mr. Povy’s and there dined, and thence with him and Creed to my Lord Bellasses’, and there debated a great while how to put things in order against his going, and so with my Lord in his coach to Whitehall, and with him to my Lord Duke of Albemarle, finding him at cards. After a few dull words or two, I away to Whitehall again, and there delivered a letter to the Duke of York about our Navy business, and thence walked up and down in the gallery, talking with Mr. Slingsby, who is a very ingenious person, about the Mint and coinage of money. Among other things, he argues that there being £700,000 coined in the Rump time, and by all the Treasurers of that time, it being their opinion that the Rump money was in all payments, one with another, about a tenth part of all their money. Then, says he, to my question, the nearest guess we can make is, that the money passing up and down in business is £7,000,000. To another question of mine he made me fully understand that the old law of prohibiting bullion to be exported, is, and ever was a folly and an injury, rather than good. Arguing thus, that if the exportations exceed importations, then the balance must be brought home in money, which, when our merchants know cannot be carried out again, they will forbear to bring home in money, but let it lie abroad for trade, or keepe in foreign banks: or if our importations exceed our exportations, then, to keepe credit, the merchants will and must find ways of carrying out money by stealth, which is a most easy thing to do, and is everywhere done; and therefore the law against it signifies nothing in the world. Besides, that it is seen, that where money is free, there is great plenty; where it is restrained, as here, there is a great want, as in Spain. These and many other fine discourses I had from him. Thence by coach home (to see Sir J. Minnes first), who is still sick, and I doubt worse than he seems to be. Mrs. Turner here took me into her closet, and there did give me a glass of most pure water, and showed me her Rocke, which indeed is a very noble thing but a very bauble. So away to my office, where late, busy, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, and after dinner abroad, walked to Paul’s Churchyard, but my books not bound, which vexed me. So home to my office again, where very late about business, and so home to supper and to bed, my cold continuing in a great degree upon me still. This day I received a good sum of money due to me upon one score or another from Sir G. Carteret, among others to clear all my matters about Colours2408 wherein a month or two since I was so embarrassed and I thank God I find myself to have got clear, by that commodity, £50 and something more; and earned it with dear pains and care and issuing of my own money, and saved the King near £100 in it.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning, putting papers to rights which now grow upon my hands. At noon dined at home. All the afternoon at my business again. In the evening come Mr. Andrews and Hill, and we up to my chamber and there good music, though my great cold made it the less pleasing to me. Then Mr. Hill (the other going away) and I to supper alone, my wife not appearing, our discourse upon the particular vain humours of Mr. Povy, which are very extraordinary indeed. After supper I to Sir W. Batten’s, where I found him, Sir W. Penn, Sir J. Robinson, Sir R. Ford and Captain Cocke and Mr. Penn, junior. Here a great deal of sorry disordered talk about the Trinity House men, their being exempted from land service. But, Lord! to see how void of method and sense their discourse was, and in what heat, insomuch as Sir R. Ford (who we judged, some of us, to be a little foxed) fell into very high terms with Sir W. Batten, and then with Captain Cocke. So that I see that no man is wise at all times. Thence home to prayers and to bed.
. This is solemnly kept as a Fast2409 all over the City, but I kept my house, putting my closet to rights again, having lately put it out of order in removing my books and things in order to being made clean. At this all day, and at night to my office, there to do some business, and being late at it, comes Mercer to me, to tell me that my wife was in bed, and desired me to come home; for they hear, and have, night after night, lately heard noises over their head upon the leads. Now it is strange to think how, knowing that I have a great sum of money in my house, this puts me into a most mighty affright, that for more than two hours, I could not almost tell what to do or say, but feared this and that, and remembered that this evening I saw a woman and two men stand suspiciously in the entry, in the dark; I calling to them, they made me only this answer, the woman said that the men came to see her; but who she was I could not tell. The truth is, my house is mighty dangerous, having so many ways to be come to; and at my windows, over the stairs, to see who goes up and down; but, if I escape tonight, I will remedy it. God preserve us this night safe! So at almost two o’clock, I home to my house, and, in great fear, to bed, thinking every running of a mouse really a thiefe; and so to sleep, very brokenly, all night long, and found all safe in the morning.
. Up and with Sir W. Batten to Westminster, where to speak at the House with my Lord Bellasses, and am cruelly vexed to see myself put upon businesses so uncertainly about getting ships for Tangier being ordered, a servile thing, almost every day. So to the ’Change, back by coach with Sir W. Batten, and thence to the Crown, a tavern hard by, with Sir W. Rider and Cutler, where we alone, a very good dinner. Thence home to the office, and there all the afternoon late. The office being up, my wife sent for me, and what was it but to tell me how Jane carries herself, and I must put her away presently. But I did hear both sides and find my wife much in fault, and the grounds of all the difference is my wife’s fondness of Tom, to the being displeased with all the house beside to defend the boy, which vexes me, but I will cure it. Many high words between my wife and I, but the wench shall go, but I will take a course with the boy, for I fear I have spoiled him already. Thence to the office, to my accounts, and there at once to ease my mind I have made myself debtor to Mr. Povy for the £117 5s. got with so much joy the last month, but seeing that it is not like to be kept without some trouble and question, I do even discharge my mind of it, and so if I come now to refund it, as I fear I shall, I shall now be ne’er a whit the poorer for it, though yet it is some trouble to me to be poorer by such a sum than I thought myself a month since. But, however, a quiet mind and to be sure of my own is worth all. The Lord be praised for what I have, which is this month come down to £1,257. I stayed up about my accounts till almost two in the morning.
February 1664–65
. Lay long in bed, which made me, going by coach to St. James’s by appointment to have attended the Duke of York and my Lord Bellasses, lose the hopes of my getting something by the hire of a ship to carry men to Tangier. But, however, according to the order of the Duke this morning, I did go to the ’Change, and there after great pains did light of a business with Mr. Gifford and Hubland2410 [Houblon] for bringing me as much as I hoped for, which I have at large expressed in my stating the case of the King’s Fisher, which is the ship that I have hired, and got the Duke of York’s agreement this afternoon after much pains and not eating a bit of bread till about 4 o’clock. Going home I put in to an ordinary by Temple Barr and there with my boy Tom eat a pullet, and thence home to the office, being still angry with my wife for yesterday’s foolery. After a good while at the office, I with the boy to the Sun behind the Exchange, by agreement with Mr. Young the flag-maker, and there was met by Mr. Hill, Andrews, and Mr. Hubland, a pretty serious man. Here two very pretty savoury dishes and good discourse. After supper a song, or three or four (I having to that purpose carried Lawes’s book), and staying here till 12 o’clock got the watch to light me home, and in a continued discontent to bed. After being in bed, my people come and say there is a great stinke of burning, but no smoke. We called up Sir J. Minnes’s and Sir W. Batten’s people, and Griffin, and the people at the madhouse, but nothing could be found to give occasion to it. At this trouble we were till past three o’clock, and then the stinke ceasing, I to sleep, and my people to bed, and lay very long in the morning.
. Then up and to my office, where till noon and then to the ’Change, and at the Coffeehouse with Gifford, Hubland, the Master of the ship, and I read over and approved a charter-party for carrying goods for Tangier, wherein I hope to get some money. Thence home, my head aching for want of rest and too much business. So to the office. At night comes, Povy, and he and I to Mrs. Bland’s to discourse about my serving her to help her to a good passage for Tangier. Here I heard her kinswoman sing 3 or 4 very fine songs and in good manner, and then home and to supper. My cook-maid Jane and her mistress parted, and she went away this day. I vexed to myself, but was resolved to have no more trouble, and so after supper to my office and then to bed.
. Up, and walked with my boy (whom, because of my wife’s making him idle, I dare not leave at home) walked first to Salsbury court, there to excuse my not being at home at dinner to Mrs. Turner, who I perceive is vexed, because I do not serve her in something against the great feasting for her husband’s Reading2411 in helping her to some good penn’eths, but I care not. She was dressing herself by the fire in her chamber, and there took occasion to show me her leg, which indeed is the finest I ever saw, and she not a little proud of it. Thence to my Lord Bellasses; thence to Mr. Povy’s, and so up and down at that end of the town about several businesses, it being a brave frosty day and good walking. So back again on foot to the ’Change, in my way taking my books from binding from my bookseller’s. My bill for the rebinding of some old books to make them suit with my study, cost me, besides other new books in the same bill, £3; but it will be very handsome. At the ’Change did several businesses, and here I hear that news is come from Deale, that the same day my Lord Sandwich sailed thence with the fleet, that evening some Dutch men of war were seen on the back side of the Goodwin, and, by all conjecture, must be seen by my Lord’s fleet; which, if so, they must engage. Thence, being invited, to my uncle Wight’s, where the Wights all dined; and, among the others, pretty Mrs. Margaret, who indeed is a very pretty lady; and though by my vowe it costs me 12d. a kiss after the first, yet I did adventure upon a couple. So home, and among other letters found one from Jane, that is newly gone, telling me how her mistress won’t pay her her Quarter’s wages, and withal tells me how her mistress will have the boy sit 3 or 4 hours together in the dark telling of stories, but speaks of nothing but only her indiscretion in undervaluing herself to do it, but I will remedy that, but am vexed she should get somebody to write so much because of making it public. Then took coach and to visit my Lady Sandwich, where she discoursed largely to me her opinion of a match, if it could be thought fit by my Lord, for my Lady Jemimah, with Sir G. Carteret’s eldest son; but I doubt he hath yet no settled estate in land. But I will inform myself, and give her my opinion. Then Mrs. Pickering (after private discourse ended, we going into the other room) did, at my Lady’s command, tell me the manner of a masquerade2412 before the King and Court the other day. Where six women (my Lady Castlemayne and Duchess of Monmouth being two of them) and six men (the Duke of Monmouth and Lord Arran2413 and Monsieur Blanfort,2414 being three of them) in vizards, but most rich and antique dresses, did dance admirably and most gloriously. God give us cause to continue the mirthe! So home, and after awhile at my office to supper and to bed.
. Lay long in bed discoursing with my wife about her maids, which by Jane’s going away in discontent and against my opinion do make some trouble between my wife and me. But these are but foolish troubles and so not to be set to heart, yet it do disturb me mightily these things. To my office, and there all the morning. At noon being invited, I to the Sun behind the ’Change, to dinner to my Lord Belasses, where a great deal of discourse with him, and some good, among others at table he told us a very handsome passage of the King’s sending him his message about holding out the town of Newarke, of which he was then governor for the King. This message he sent in a slug bullet, being writ in cipher, and wrapped up in lead and swallowed. So the messenger come to my Lord and told him he had a message from the King, but it was yet in his belly; so they did give him some physic, and out it come. This was a month before the King’s flying to the Scotts; and therein he told him that at such a day, being the 3rd or 6th of May, he should hear of his being come to the Scotts, being assured by the King of France that in coming to them he should be used with all the liberty, honour, and safety, that could be desired. And at the just day he did come to the Scotts. He told us another odd passage: how the King having newly put out Prince Rupert of his generalship, upon some miscarriage at Bristoll, and Sir Richard Willis2415 of his governorship of Newarke, at the entreaty of the gentry of the County, and put in my Lord Bellasses, the great officers of the King’s army mutinyed, and come in that manner with swords drawn, into the marketplace of the town where the King was; which the King hearing, says, “I must to horse.” And there himself personally, when everybody expected they should have been opposed, the King come, and cried to the head of the mutineers, which was Prince Rupert, “Nephew, I command you to be gone.” So the Prince, in all his fury and discontent, withdrew, and his company scattered, which they say was the greatest piece of mutiny in the world. Thence after dinner home to my office, and in the evening was sent to by Jane that I would give her her wages. So I sent for my wife to my office, and told her that rather than be talked on I would give her all her wages for this Quarter coming on, though two months is behind, which vexed my wife, and we begun to be angry, but I took myself up and sent her away, but was cruelly vexed in my mind that all my trouble in this world almost should arise from my disorders in my family and the indiscretion of a wife that brings me nothing almost (besides a comely person) but only trouble and discontent. She gone I late at my business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Lay in bed most of the morning, then up and down to my chamber, among my new books, which is now a pleasant sight to me to see my whole study almost of one binding. So to dinner, and all the afternoon with W. Hewer at my office endorsing of papers there, my business having got before me much of late. In the evening comes to see me Mr. Sheply, lately come out of the country, who goes away again tomorrow, a good and a very kind man to me. There come also Mr. Andrews and Hill, and we sang very pleasantly; and so, they being gone, I and my wife to supper, and to prayers and bed.
. Up and with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Penn to St. James’s, but the Duke is gone abroad. So to Whitehall to him, and there I spoke with him, and so to Westminster, did a little business, and then home to the ’Change, where also I did some business, and went off and ended my contract with the Kingfisher2416 hired for Tangier, and I hope to get something by it. Thence home to dinner, and visited Sir W. Batten, who is sick again, worse than he was, and I am apt to think is very ill. So to my office, and among other things with Sir W. Warren 4 hours or more till very late, talking of one thing or another, and have concluded a firm league with him in all just ways to serve him and myself all I can, and I think he will be a most useful and thankful man to me. So home to supper and to bed. This being one of the coldest days, all say, they ever felt in England; and I this day, under great apprehensions of getting an ague from my putting a suit on that hath lain by without ayring a great while, and I pray God it do not do me hurte.
. Up and to my office, where busy all the morning, and at home to dinner. It being Shrove Tuesday, had some very good fritters. All the afternoon and evening at the office, and at night home to supper and to bed. This day, Sir W. Batten, who hath been sicke four or five days, is now very bad, so as people begin to fear his death; and I am at a loss whether it will be better for me to have him die, because he is a bad man, or live, for fear a worse should come.
. Up and by coach to my Lord Peterborough’s, where anon my Lord Ashly and Sir Thomas Ingram met, and Povy about his accounts, who is one of the most unhappy accountants that ever I knew in all my life, and one that if I were clear in reference to my bill of £117 he should be hanged before I would ever have to do with him, and as he understands nothing of his business himself, so he hath not one about him that do. Here late till I was weary, having business elsewhere, and thence home by coach, and after dinner did several businesses and very late at my office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning very busy. At noon home to dinner, and then to my office again, where Sir William Petty come, among other things to tell me that Mr. Barlow2417 is dead; for which, God knows my heart, I could be as sorry as is possible for one to be for a stranger, by whose death he gets £100 per annum, he being a worthy, honest man; but after having considered that when I come to consider the providence of God by this means unexpectedly to give me £100 a year more in my estate, I have cause to bless God, and do it from the bottom of my heart. So home late at night, after twelve o’clock, and so to bed.
. Up and abroad to Paul’s Churchyard, there to see the last of my books new bound: among others, my Court of King James,2418 and The Rise and Fall of the Family of the Stewarts;2419 and much pleased I am now with my study; it being, methinks, a beautiful sight. Thence (in Mr. Grey’s coach, who took me up), to Westminster, where I heard that yesterday the King met the Houses to pass the great bill for the £2,500,000. After doing a little business I home, where Mr. Moore dined with me, and evened our reckonings on my Lord Sandwich’s bond to me for principal and interest. So that now on both there is remaining due to me £257 7s., and I bless God it is no more. So all the afternoon at my office, and late home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where all the morning. At noon to ’Change by coach with my Lord Brunkard, and thence after doing much business home to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon till past 12 at night very busy. So home to bed.
. Up and to church to St. Lawrence2420 to hear Dr. Wilkins, the great scholar, for curiosity, I having never heard him: but was not satisfied with him at all, only a gentleman sat in the pew I by chance sat in, that sang most excellently, and afterward I found by his face that he had been a Paul’s scholler, but know not his name, and I was also well pleased with the church, it being a very fine church. So home to dinner, and then to my office all the afternoon doing of business, and in the evening comes Mr. Hill (but no Andrews) and we spent the evening very finely, singing, supping and discoursing. Then to prayers and to bed.
. Up and to St. James’s, did our usual business before the Duke. Thence I to Westminster and by water (taking Mr. Stapely the rope-maker by the way), to his rope-ground and to Limehouse, there to see the manner of stoves and did excellently inform myself therein, and coming home did go on board Sir W. Petty’s Experiment, which is a brave roomy vessel, and I hope may do well. So went on shore to a Dutch [house] to drink some mum, and there ’light upon some Dutchmen, with whom we had good discourse touching stoving2421 and making of cables. But to see how despicably they speak of us for our using so many hands more to do anything than they do, they closing a cable with 20, that we use 60 men upon. Thence home and eat something, and then to my office, where very late, and then to supper and to bed. Captain Stokes, it seems, is at last dead at Portsmouth.
. This morning comes betimes Dicke Penn,2422 to be my wife’s Valentine, and come to our bedside. By the same token, I had him brought to my side, thinking to have made him kiss me; but he perceived me, and would not; so went to his Valentine: a notable, stout, witty boy. I up about business, and, opening the door, there was Bagwell’s wife, with whom I talked afterwards, and she had the confidence to say she came with a hope to be time enough to be my Valentine, and so indeed she did, but my oath preserved me from loosing any time with her, and so I and my boy abroad by coach to Westminster, where did two or three businesses, and then home to the ’Change, and did much business there. My Lord Sandwich is, it seems, with his fleet at Alborough Bay. So home to dinner and then to the office, where till 12 almost at night, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my office, where busy all the morning. At noon with Creed to dinner to Trinity-house, where a very good dinner among the old sokers, where an extraordinary discourse of the manner of the loss of the Royal Oak2423 coming home from Bantam, upon the rocks of Scilly, many passages therein very extraordinary, and if I can I will get it in writing. Thence with Creed to Gresham College, where I had been by Mr. Povy the last week proposed to be admitted a member;2424 and was this day admitted, by signing a book and being taken by the hand by the President, my Lord Brunkard, and some words of admittance said to me. But it is a most acceptable thing to hear their discourse, and see their experiments; which were this day upon the nature of fire, and how it goes out in a place where the air is not free, and sooner out where the air is exhausted, which they showed by an engine on purpose. After this being done, they to the Crown Tavern, behind the ’Change, and there my Lord and most of the company to a club supper; Sir P. Neale,2425 Sir R. Murrey,2426 Dr. Clerke, Dr. Whistler,2427 Dr. Goddard,2428 and others of most eminent worth. Above all, Mr. Boyle today was at the meeting, and above him Mr. Hooke,2429 who is the most, and promises the least, of any man in the world that ever I saw. Here excellent discourse till ten at night, and then home, and to Sir W. Batten’s, where I hear that Sir Thos. Harvy2430 intends to put Mr. Turner out of his house and come in himself, which will be very hard to them, and though I love him not, yet for his family’s sake I pity him. So home and to bed.
. Up, and with Mr. Andrews to Whitehall, where a Committee of Tangier, and there I did our victuallers’ business for some more money, out of which I hope to get a little, of which I was glad; but, Lord! to see to what a degree of contempt, nay, scorn, Mr. Povy, through his prodigious folly, hath brought himself in his accounts, that if he be not a man of a great interest, he will be kicked out of his employment for a foole, is very strange, and that most deservedly that ever man was, for never any man, that understands accounts so little, ever went through so much, and yet goes through it with the greatest shame and yet with confidence that ever I saw man in my life. God deliver me in my own business of my bill out of his hands, and if ever I foul my fingers with him again let me suffer for it! Back to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, where Mrs. Hunt dined with me, and poor Mrs. Batters,2431 who brought her little daughter with her, and a letter from her husband, wherein, as a token, the foole presents me very seriously with his daughter for me to take the charge of bringing up for him, and to make my own. But I took no notice to her at all of the substance of the letter, but fell to discourse, and so went away to the office, where all the afternoon till almost one in the morning, and then home to bed.
. Up, and it being bitter cold, and frost and snow, which I had thought had quite left us, I by coach to Povy’s, where he told me, as I knew already, how he was handled the other day, and is still, by my Lord Barkeley, and among other things tells me, what I did not know, how my Lord Barkeley will say openly, that he hath fought more set fields2432 than any man in England hath done. I did my business with him, which was to get a little sum of money paid, and so home with Mr. Andrews, who met me there, and there to the office. At noon home and there found Lewellin, which vexed me out of my old jealous humour. So to my office, where till 12 at night, being only a little while at noon at Sir W. Batten’s to see him, and had some high words with Sir J. Minnes about Sir W. Warren, he calling him cheating knave, but I cooled him, and at night at Sir W. Penn’s, he being to go to Chatham tomorrow. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning; at noon to the ’Change, and thence to the Royal Oak tavern in Lombard Street, where Sir William Petty and the owners of the double-bottomed boat (the Experiment) did entertain my Lord Brunkard, Sir R. Murrey, myself, and others, with marrow bones and a chine of beefe of the victuals they have made for this ship; and excellent company and good discourse: but, above all, I do value Sir William Petty. Thence home; and took my Lord Sandwich’s draught of the harbour of Portsmouth down to Ratcliff, to one Burston, to make a plate for the King, and another for the Duke, and another for himself; which will be very neat. So home, and till almost one o’clock in the morning at my office, and then home to supper and to bed. My Lord Sandwich, and his fleet of twenty-five ships in the Downs, returned from cruising, but could not meet with any Dutchmen.
. Lay in bed, it being Lord’s day, all the morning talking with my wife, sometimes pleased, sometimes displeased, and then up and to dinner. All the afternoon also at home, and Sir W. Batten’s, and in the evening comes Mr. Andrews, and we sung together, and then to supper, he not staying, and at supper hearing by accident of my maids their letting in a roguing Scotch woman that haunts the office, to help them to washe and scoure in our house, and that very lately, I fell mightily out, and made my wife, to the disturbance of the house and neighbours, to beat our little girl, and then we shut her down into the cellar, and there she lay all night. So we to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to attend the Duke, and then we back again and rode into the beginning of my Lord Chancellor’s new house,2433 near St. James’s; which common people have already called Dunkirke-house, from their opinion of his having a good bribe for the selling of that town. And very noble I believe it will be. Near that is my Lord Barkeley2434 beginning another on one side, and Sir J. Denham on the other. Thence I to the House of Lords and spoke with my Lord Bellasses, and so to the ’Change, and there did business, and so to the Sun Tavern, haling in the morning had some high words with Sir J. Lawson about his sending of some baled goods to Tangier, wherein the truth is I did not favour him, but being conscious that some of my profits may come out by some words that fell from him, and to be quiet, I have accommodated it. Here we dined merry; but my club and the rest come to 7s. 6d., which was too much. Thence to the office, and there found Bagwell’s wife, whom I directed to go home, and I would do her business, which was to write a letter to my Lord Sandwich for her husband’s advance into a better ship as there should be occasion. Which I did, and by and by did go down by water to Deptford, and then down further, and so landed at the lower end of the town, and it being dark entrer en la maison de la femme de Bagwell, and there had sa compagnie, though with a great deal of difficulty, néanmoins en fin j’avais ma volonté d’elle, and being sated therewith, I walked home to Redriffe, it being now near nine o’clock, and there I did drink some strong waters and eat some bread and cheese, and so home. Where at my office my wife comes and tells me that she hath hired a chamber maid, one of the prettiest maids that ever she saw in her life, and that she is really jealous of me for her, but hath ventured to hire her from month to month, but I think she means merrily. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office (having a mighty pain in my forefinger of my left hand, from a strain that it received last night) in struggling avec la femme que je mentioned yesterday, where busy till noon, and then my wife being busy in going with her woman to a hothouse to bathe herself, after her long being within doors in the dirt, so that she now pretends to a resolution of being hereafter very clean. How long it will hold I can guess. I dined with Sir W. Batten and my Lady, they being now a’days very fond of me. So to the ’Change, and off of the ’Change with Mr. Wayth to a cook’s shop, and there dined again for discourse with him about Hamaccos2435 and the abuse now practised in tickets, and more like every day to be. Also of the great profit Mr. Fen2436 makes of his place, he being, though he demands but ½ percent of all he pays, and that is easily computed, but very little pleased with any man that gives him no more. So to the office, and after office my Lord Brunkerd carried me to Lincolne’s Inne Fields, and there I with my Lady Sandwich (good lady) talking of innocent discourse of good housewifery and husbands for her daughters, and the luxury and looseness of the times and other such things till past 10 o’clock at night, and so by coach home, where a little at my office, and so to supper and to bed. My Lady tells me how my Lord Castlemayne is coming over from France, and is believed will be made friends with his Lady again. What mad freaks the Maids of Honour at Court have: that Mrs. Jenings,2437 one of the Duchesses maids, the other day dressed herself like an orange wench, and went up and down and cried oranges; till falling down, or by such accident, though in the evening, her fine shoes were discerned, and she put to a great deal of shame;2438 that such as these tricks being ordinary, and worse among them, thereby few will venture upon them for wives: my Lady Castlemayne will in merriment say that her daughter (not above a year old or two) will be the first maid in the Court that will be married. This day my Lord Sandwich writ me word from the Downs, that he is like to be in town this week.
. Lay last night alone, my wife after her bathing lying alone in another bed. So cold all night. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon at the ’Change, busy; where great talk of a Dutch ship in the North put on shore, and taken by a troop of horse. Home to dinner and Creed with me. Thence to Gresham College,2439 where very noble discourse, and thence home busy till past 12 at night, and then home to supper and to bed. Mrs. Bland come this night to take leave of me and my wife, going to Tangier.
. This day, by the blessing of Almighty God, I have lived thirty-two years in the world, and am in the best degree of health at this minute that I have been almost in my life time, and at this time in the best condition of estate that ever I was in—the Lord make me thankful. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, where I hear the most horrid and astonishing news that ever was yet told in my memory, that De Ruyter with his fleet in Guinea hath proceeded to the taking of whatever we have, forts, goods, ships, and men, and tied our men back to back, and thrown them all into the sea, even women and children also. This a Swede or Hamburger is come into the River and tells that he saw the thing done.2440 But, Lord! to see the consternation all our merchants are in is observable, and with what fury and revenge they discourse of it. But I fear it will like other things in a few days cool among us. But that which I fear most is the reason why he that was so kind to our men at first should afterward, having let them go, be so cruel when he went further. What I fear is that there he was informed (which he was not before) of some of Holmes’s dealings with his countrymen, and so was moved to this fury. God grant it be not so! But a more dishonourable thing was never suffered by Englishmen, nor a more barbarous done by man, as this by them to us. Home to dinner, and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and then at night to take my finall leave of Mrs. Bland, who sets out tomorrow for Tangier, and then I back to my office till past 12, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where all the morning upon advising again with some fishermen and the water bailiff of the City, by Mr. Coventry’s direction, touching the protections which are desired for the fishermen upon the River, and I am glad of the occasion to make me understand something of it. At noon home to dinner, and all the afternoon till 9 at night in my chamber, and Mr. Hater with me (to prevent being disturbed at the office), to perfect my contract book, which, for want of time, hath a long time lain without being entered in as I used to do from month to month. Then to my office, where till almost 12, and so home to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon to the ’Change; where just before I come, the Swede that had told the King and the Duke so boldly this great lie of the Dutch flinging our men back to back into the sea at Guinea, so particularly, and readily, and confidently, was whipt round the ’Change: he confessing it a lie, and that he did it in hopes to get something. It is said the judges, upon demand, did give it their opinion that the law would judge him to be whipt, to lose his ears, or to have his nose slit but I do not hear that anything more is to be done to him. They say he is delivered over to the Dutch Embassador to do what he pleased with him. But the world do think that there is some design on one side or other, either of the Dutch or French, for it is not likely a fellow would invent such a lie to get money whereas he might have hoped for a better reward by telling something in behalf of us to please us. Thence to the Sun Tavern, and there dined with Sir W. Warren and Mr. Gifford, the merchant: and I hear how Nich. Colborne, that lately lived and got a great estate there, is gone to live like a prince in the country, and that this Wadlow,2441 that did the like at the Devil by St. Dunstane’s, did go into the country, and there spent almost all he had got, and hath now choused this Colborne out of his house, that he might come to his old trade again. But, Lord! to see how full the house is, no room for any company almost to come into it. Thence home to the office, where dispatched much business; at night late home, and to clean myself with warm water; my wife will have me, because she do herself, and so to bed.
. Up and to church, and so home to dinner, and after dinner to my office, and there busy all the afternoon, till in the evening comes Mr. Andrews and Hill, and so home and to singing. Hill stayed and supped with me, and very good discourse of Italy, where he was, which is always to me very agreeable. After supper, he gone, we to prayers and to bed.
. Up and to St. James’s, where we attended the Duke as usual. This morning I was much surprised and troubled with a letter from Mrs. Bland, that she is left behind, and much trouble it cost me this day to find out some way to carry her after the ships to Plymouth, but at last I hope I have done it. At noon to the ’Change to inquire what wages the Dutch give in their men-of-war at this day, and I hear for certain they give but twelve guilders at most, which is not full 24s., a thing I wonder at. At home to dinner, and then in Sir J. Minnes’s coach, my wife and I with him, and also Mercer, abroad, he and I to Whitehall, and he would have his coach to wait upon my wife on her visits, it being the first time my wife hath been out of doors (but the other day to bathe her) several weeks. We to a Committee of the Council to discourse concerning pressing of men; but, Lord! how they meet; never sit down: one comes, now another goes, then comes another; one complaining that nothing is done, another swearing that he hath been there these two hours and nobody come. At last it come to this, my Lord Annesly, says he, “I think we must be forced to get the King to come to every committee; for I do not see that we do anything at any time but when he is here.” And I believe he said the truth and very constant he is at the council table on council-days; which his predecessors, it seems, very rarely did; but thus I perceive the greatest affair in the world at this day is likely to be managed by us. But to hear how my Lord Barkeley and others of them do cry up the discipline of the late times here, and in the former Dutch war is strange, wishing with all their hearts that the business of religion were not so severely carried on as to discourage the sober people to come among us, and wishing that the same law and severity were used against drunkenness as there was then, saying that our evil living will call the hand of God upon us again. Thence to walk alone a good while in St. James’s Park with Mr. Coventry, who I perceive is grown a little melancholy and displeased to see things go as they do so carelessly. Thence I by coach to Ratcliff highway, to the plate-maker’s, and he has begun my Lord Sandwich’s plate very neatly, and so back again. Coming back I met Colonel Atkins, who in other discourse did offer to give me a piece to receive of me 20 when he proves the late news of the Dutch, their drowning our men, at Guinea, and the truth is I find the generality of the world to fear that there is something of truth in it, and I do fear it too. Thence back by coach to Sir Philip Warwicke’s; and there he did contract with me a kind of friendship and freedom of communication, wherein he assures me to make me understand the whole business of the Treasurer’s business of the Navy, that I shall know as well as Sir G. Carteret what money he hath; and will needs have me come to him sometimes, or he meet me, to discourse of things tending to the serving the King: and I am mighty proud and happy in becoming so known to such a man. And I hope shall pursue it. Thence back home to the office a little tired and out of order, and then to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. At noon dined at home. After dinner my wife and I to my Lady Batten’s, it being the first time my wife hath been there, I think, these two years, but I had a mind in part to take away the strangeness, and so we did, and all very quiet and kind. Come home, I to the taking my wife’s kitchen accounts at the latter end of the month, and there find 7s. wanting, which did occasion a very high falling out between us, I indeed too angrily insisting upon so poor a thing, and did give her very provoking high words, calling her beggar, and reproaching her friends, which she took very stomachfully and reproached me justly with mine; and I confess, being myself, I cannot see what she could have done less. I find she is very cunning, and when she least shows it hath her wit at work; but it is an ill one, though I think not so bad but with good usage I might well bear with it, and the truth is I do find that my being oversolicitous and jealous and froward and ready to reproach her do make her worse. However, I find that now and then a little difference do no hurte, but too much of it will make her know her force too much. We parted after many high words very angry, and I to my office to my month’s accounts, and find myself worth £1,270, for which the Lord God be praised! So at almost 2 o’clock in the morning I home to supper and to bed, and so ends this month, with great expectation of the Hollanders coming forth, who are, it seems, very high and rather more ready than we. God give a good issue to it!
March 1664–65
. Up, and this day being the day than: by a promise, a great while ago, made to my wife, I was to give her £20 to lay out in clothes against Easter, she did, notwithstanding last night’s falling out, come to peace with me and I with her, but did boggle mightily at the parting with my money, but at last did give it her, and then she abroad to buy her things, and I to my office, where busy all the morning. At noon I to dinner at Trinity House, and thence to Gresham College, where Mr. Hooke2442 read a second very curious lecture about the late Comett; among other things proving very probably that this is the very same Comett that appeared before in the year 1618, and that in such a time probably it will appear again, which is a very new opinion; but all will be in print. Then to the meeting, where Sir G. Carteret’s two sons, his own, and Sir N. Slaning,2443 were admitted of the society: and this day I did pay my admission money, 40s. to the society. Here was very fine discourses and experiments, but I do lacke philosophy enough to understand them, and so cannot remember them. Among others, a very particular account of the making of the several sorts of bread in France, which is accounted the best place for bread in the world.2444 So home, where very busy getting an answer to some question of Sir Philip Warwicke touching the expense of the navy, and that being done I by coach at 8 at night with my wife and Mercer to Sir Philip’s and discoursed with him (leaving them in the coach), and then back with them home and to supper and to bed.
. Begun this day to rise betimes before six o’clock, and, going down to call my people, found Besse and the girl with their clothes on, lying within their bedding upon the ground close by the fireside, and a candle burning all night, pretending they would rise to scoure. This vexed me, but Besse is going and so she will not trouble me long. Up, and by water to Burston about my Lord’s plate, and then home to the office, so there all the morning sitting. At noon dined with Sir W. Batten (my wife being gone again today to buy things, having bought nothing yesterday for lack of Mrs. Pierce’s company), and thence to the office again, where very busy till 12 at night, and vexed at my wife’s staying out so late, she not being at home at 9 o’clock, but at last she is come home, but the reason of her stay I know not yet. So shut up my books, and home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and abroad about several things, among others to see Mr. Peter Honiwood, who was at my house the other day, and I find it was for nothing but to pay me my brother John’s Quarterage. Thence to see Mrs. Turner, who takes it mighty ill I did not come to dine with the Reader, her husband, which, she says, was the greatest feast that ever was yet kept by a Reader, and I believe it was well. But I am glad I did not go, which confirms her in an opinion that I am grown proud. Thence to the ’Change, and to several places, and so home to dinner and to my office, where till 12 at night writing over a discourse of mine to Mr. Coventry touching the Fishermen of the Thames upon a reference of the business by him to me concerning their being protected from press. Then home to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes, and walked, it being bitter cold, to Ratcliff, to the plate-maker’s and back again. To the office, where we sat all the morning, I, with being empty and full of air and wind, had some pain today. Dined alone at home, my wife being gone abroad to buy some more things. All the afternoon at the office. William Howe come to see me, being come up with my Lord from sea: he is grown a discreet, but very conceited fellow. He tells me how little respectfully Sir W. Penn did carry it to my Lord onboard the Duke’s ship at sea; and that Captain Minnes, a favourite of Prince Rupert’s, do show my Lord little respect; but that everybody else esteems my Lord as they ought. I am sorry for the folly of the latter, and vexed at the dissimulation of the former. At night home to supper and to bed. This day was proclaimed at the ’Change the war with Holland.
. Up, and Mr. Burston bringing me by order my Lord’s plates, which he has been making this week. I did take coach and to my Lord Sandwich’s and dined with my Lord; it being the first time he hath dined at home since his coming from sea: and a pretty odd demand it was of my Lord to my Lady before me: “How do you, sweetheart? How have you done all this week?” himself taking notice of it to me, that he had hardly seen her the week before. At dinner he did use me with the greatest solemnity in the world, in carving for me, and nobody else, and calling often to my Lady to cut for me; and all the respect possible. After dinner looked over the plates, liked them mightily, and indeed I think he is the most exact man in what he do in the world of that kind. So home again, and there after a song or two in the evening with Mr. Hill, I to my office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach, being a most lamentable cold day as any this year, to St. James’s, and there did our business with the Duke. Great preparations for his speedy return to sea. I saw him try on his buff coat and hatpiece covered with black velvet. It troubles me more to think of his venture, than of anything else in the whole war. Thence home to dinner, where I saw Besse go away; she having of all wenches that ever lived with us received the greatest love and kindness and good clothes, besides wages, and gone away with the greatest ingratitude. I then abroad to look after my Hamaccoes, and so home, and there find our new chamber-maid, Mary, come, which instead of handsome, as my wife spoke and still seems to reckon, is a very ordinary wench, I think, and therein was mightily disappointed. To my office, where busy late, and then home to supper and to bed, and was troubled all this night with a pain in my left testicle, that run up presently into my left kidney and there kept aching all night. In great pain.
. Up, and was pretty well, but going to the office, and I think it was sitting with my back to the fire, it set me in a great rage again, that I could not continue till past noon at the office, but was forced to go home, nor could sit down to dinner, but betook myself to my bed, and being there a while my pain begun to abate and grow less and less. Anon I went to make water, not dreaming of anything but my testicle that by some accident I might have bruised as I used to do, but in pissing there come from me two stones, I could feel them, and caused my water to be looked into; but without any pain to me in going out, which makes me think that it was not a fit of the stone at all; for my pain was asswaged upon my lying down a great while before I went to make water. Anon I made water again very freely and plentifully. I kept my bed in good ease all the evening, then rose and sat up an hour or two, and then to bed and lay till 8 o’clock, and then,
. Though a bitter cold day, yet I rose, and though my pain and tenderness in my testicle remains a little, yet I do verily think that my pain yesterday was nothing else, and therefore I hope my disease of the stone may not return to me, but void itself in pissing, which God grant, but I will consult my physitian. This morning is brought me to the office the sad news of The London, in which Sir J. Lawson’s men were all bringing her from Chatham to the Hope, and thence he was to go to sea in her; but a little a’ this side the buoy of the Nower, she suddenly blew up. About 24 [men] and a woman that were in the roundhouse and coach saved; the rest, being above 300, drowned: the ship breaking all in pieces, with 80 pieces of brass ordnance. She lies sunk, with her roundhouse above water. Sir J. Lawson hath a great loss in this of so many good chosen men, and many relations among them. I went to the ’Change, where the news taken very much to heart. So home to dinner, and Mr. Moore with me. Then I to Gresham College, and there saw several pretty experiments, and so home and to my office, and at night about 11 home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the afternoon. At noon to dinner at home, and then abroad with my wife, left her at the New Exchange and I to Westminster, where I hear Mrs. Martin is brought to bed of a boy and christened Charles, which I am very glad of, for I was fearful of being called to be a godfather to it. But it seems it was to be done suddenly, and so I escaped. It is strange to see how a liberty and going abroad without purpose of doing anything do lead a man to what is bad, for I was just upon going to her, where I must of necessity [have] broken my oath or made a forfeit. But I did not, company being (I heard by my porter) with her, and so I home again, taking up my wife, and was set down by her at Paule’s Schoole, where I visited Mr. Crumlum at his house; and, Lord! to see how ridiculous a conceited pedagogue he is, though a learned man, he being so dogmaticall in all he do and says. But among other discourse, we fell to the old discourse of Paule’s Schoole; and he did, upon my declaring my value of it, give me one of Lilly’s grammars of a very old impression, as it was in the Catholic times, which I shall much set by. And so, after some small discourse, away and called upon my wife at a linen draper’s shop buying linen, and so home, and to my office, where late, and home to supper and to bed. This night my wife had a new suit of flowered ash-coloured silke, very noble.
. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, where very hot, people’s proposal of the City giving the King2445 another ship for The London, that is lately blown up, which would be very handsome, and if well managed, might be done; but I fear if it be put into ill hands, or that the courtiers do solicit it, it will never be done. Home to dinner, and thence to the Committee of Tangier at Whitehall, where my Lord Barkely and Craven and others; but, Lord! to see how superficially things are done in the business of the Lottery, which will be the disgrace of the Fishery, and without profit. Home, vexed at my loss of time, and thereto my office. Late at night come the two Bellamys, formerly petty warrant Victuallers of the Navy, to take my advice about a navy debt of theirs for the compassing of which they offer a great deal of money, and the thing most just. Perhaps I may undertake it, and get something by it, which will be a good job. So home late to bed.
. Up and to the office, at noon home to dinner, and to the office again, where very late, and then home to supper and to bed. This day returned Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes from Lee Roade, where they have been to see the wrecke of The London, out of which, they say, the guns may be got, but the hull of her will be wholly lost, as not being capable of being weighed.
. Up, and borrowing Sir J. Minnes’s coach, to my Lord Sandwich’s, but he was gone abroad. I sent the coach back for my wife, my Lord a second time dining at home on purpose to meet me, he having not dined once at home but those times since his coming from sea. I sat down and read over the Bishop of Chichester’s2446 sermon upon the anniversary of the King’s death, much cried up, but, methinks, but a mean sermon. By and by comes in my Lord, and he and I to talk of many things in the Navy, one from another, in general, to see how the greatest things are committed to very ordinary men, as to parts and experience, to do; among others, my Lord Barkeley. We talked also of getting W. Howe2447 to be put into the Muster-Mastership in the roome of Creed, if Creed will give way, but my Lord do it without any great gusto, calling Howe a proud coxcomb in passion. Down to dinner, where my wife in her new lace whiske, which, indeed, is very noble, and I much pleased with it, and so my Lady also. Here very pleasant my Lord was at dinner, and after dinner did look over his plate,2448 which Burston hath brought him today, and is the last of the three that he will have made. After satisfied with that, he abroad, and I after much discourse with my Lady about Sir G. Carteret’s son, of whom she hath some thoughts for a husband for my Lady Jemimah, we away home by coach again, and there sang a good while very pleasantly with Mr. Andrews and Hill. They gone, we to supper, and betimes to bed.
. Up betimes, this being the first morning of my promise upon a forfeite not to lie in bed a quarter of an hour after my first waking. Abroad to St. James’s, and there much business, the King also being with us a great while. Thence to the ’Change, and thence with Captain Tayler and Sir W. Warren dined at a house hard by for discourse sake, and so I home, and there meeting a letter from Mrs. Martin desiring to speak with me, I (though against my promise of visiting her) did go, and there found her in her childbed dress desiring my favour to get her husband a place. I stayed not long, but taking Sir W. Warren up at Whitehall home, and among other discourse fell to a business which he says shall if accomplished bring me £100. He gone, I to supper and to bed. This day my wife begun to wear light-coloured locks, quite white almost, which, though it makes her look very pretty, yet not being natural, vexes me, that I will not have her wear them. This day I saw my Lord Castlemayne at St. James’s, lately come from France.
. Up before six, to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon dined with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, at the Tower, with Sir J. Robinson, at a farewell dinner which he gives Major Holmes at his going out of the Tower,2449 where he hath for some time, since his coming from Guinea, been a prisoner, and, it seems, had presented the Lieutenant with fifty pieces yesterday. Here a great deal of good victuals and company. Thence home to my office, where very late, and home to supper and to bed weary of business.
. Up and by coach with Sir W. Batten to St. James’s, where among other things before the Duke, Captain Taylor was called in, and, Sir J. Robinson his accuser not appearing, was acquitted quite from his charge, and declared that he should go to Harwich, which I was very well pleased at. Thence I to Mr. Coventry’s chamber, and there privately an houre with him in discourse of the office, and did deliver to him many notes of things about which he is to get the Duke’s command, before he goes, for the putting of business among us in better order. He did largely own his dependence as to the office upon my care, and received very great expressions of love from him, and so parted with great satisfaction to myself. So home to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, where my wife being gone down upon a sudden warning from my Lord Sandwich’s daughters to the Hope with them to see The Prince, I dined alone. After dinner to the office, and anon to Gresham College, where, among other good discourse, there was tried the great poison of Maccassa upon a dog,2450 but it had no effect all the time we sat there. We anon broke up and I home, where late at my office, my wife not coming home. I to bed, troubled, about 12 or past.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, my wife coming home from the water this morning, having lain with them on board The Prince all night. At noon home to dinner, where my wife told me the unpleasant journey she had yesterday among the children, whose fear upon the water and folly made it very unpleasing to her. A good dinner, and then to the office again. This afternoon Mr. Harris,2451 the sailmaker, sent me a noble present of two large silver candlesticks and snuffers, and a slice to keep them upon, which indeed is very handsome. At night come Mr. Andrews with £36, the further fruits of my Tangier contract, and so to bed late and weary with business, but in good content of mind, blessing God for these his benefits.
. Up and to my office, and then with Sir W. Batten to St. James’s, where many come to take leave, as was expected, of the Duke, but he do not go till Monday. This night my Lady Wood died of the smallpox, and is much lamented among the great persons for a good-natured woman and a good wife, but for all that it was ever believed she was as others are. The Duke did give us some commands, and so broke up, not taking leave of him. But the best piece of news is, that instead of a great many troublesome Lords, the whole business is to be left with the Duke of Albemarle to act as Admiral in his stead; which is a thing that do cheer my heart. For the other would have vexed us with attendance, and never done the business. Thence to the Committee of Tangier, where the Duke a little, and then left us and we stayed. A very great Committee, the Lords Albemarle, Sandwich, Barkely, Fitzharding, Peterborough, Ashley, Sir Thos. Ingram, Sir G. Carteret and others. The whole business was the stating of Povy’s accounts, of whom to say no more, never could man say worse himself nor have worse said of him than was by the company to his face; I mean, as to his folly and very reflecting words to his honesty. Broke up without anything but trouble and shame, only I got my businesses done to the signing of two bills for the Contractors and Captain Taylor, and so come away well pleased, and home, taking up my wife at the ’Change, to dinner. After dinner out again bringing my wife to her father’s again at Charing Cross, and I to the Committee again, where a new meeting of trouble about Povy, who still makes his business worse and worse, and broke up with the most open shame again to him, and high words to him of disgrace that they would not trust him with any more money till he had given an account of this. So broke up. Then he took occasion to desire me to step aside, and he and I by water to London together. In the way, of his own accord, he proposed to me that he would surrender his place of Treasurer2452 to me to have half the profit. The thing is new to me; but the more I think the more I like it, and do put him upon getting it done by the Duke. Whether it takes or no I care not, but I think at present it may have some convenience in it. Home, and there find my wife come home and gone to bed, of a cold got yesterday by water. At the office Bellamy come to me again, and I am in hopes something may be got by his business. So late home to supper and bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and took Mr. Hill along with me to Mr. Povy’s, where we dined, and showed him the house to his good content, and I expect when we meet we shall laugh at it. But I having business to stay, he went away, and Povy and Creed and I to do some business upon Povy’s accounts all the afternoon till late at night, where, God help him! never man was so confounded, and all his people about him in this world as he and his are. After we had done something [to the] purpose we broke up, and Povy acquainted me before Creed (having said something of it also this morning at our office to me) what he had done in speaking to the Duke and others about his making me Treasurer, and has carried it a great way, so as I think it cannot well be set back. Creed, I perceive, envies me in it, but I think as that will do me no hurte, so if it did I am at a great losse to think whether it were not best for me to let it wholly alone, for it will much disquiet me and my business of the Navy, which in this war will certainly be worth all my time to me. Home, continuing in this doubtful condition what to think of it, but God Almighty do his will in it for the best. To my office, where late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Mr. Povy sent his coach for me betimes, and I to him, and there to our great trouble do find that my Lord FitzHarding do appear for Mr. Brunkard2453 to be Paymaster upon Povy’s going out, by a former promise of the Duke’s, and offering to give as much as any for it. This put us all into a great dumpe, and so we went to Creed’s new lodging in the Mewes, and there we found Creed with his parrot upon his shoulder, which struck Mr. Povy coming by just by the eye, very deep, which, had it hit his eye, had put it out. This a while troubled us, but not proving very bad, we to our business consulting what to do; at last resolved, and I to Mr. Coventry, and there had his most friendly and ingenuous advice, advising me not to decline the thing, it being that that will bring me to be known to great persons, while now I am buried among three or four of us, says he, in the Navy; but do not make a declared opposition to my Lord FitzHarding. Thence I to Creed, and walked talking in the Park an hour with him, and then to my Lord Sandwich’s to dinner, and after dinner to Mr. Povy’s, who hath been with the Duke of York, and, by the mediation of Mr. Coventry, the Duke told him that the business shall go on, and he will take off Brunkerd, and my Lord FitzHarding is quiet too. But to see the mischief, I hear that Sir G. Carteret did not seem pleased, but said nothing when he heard me proposed to come in Povy’s room, which may learn me to distinguish between that man that is a man’s true and false friend. Being very glad of this news Mr. Povy and I in his coach to Hyde Park, being the first day of the tour there. Where many brave ladies; among others, Castlemayne lay impudently upon her back in her coach asleep, with her mouth open. There was also my Lady Kerneguy,2454 once my Lady Anne Hambleton, that is said to have given the Duke a clap upon his first coming over. Here I saw Sir J. Lawson’s daughter and husband, a fine couple, and also Mr. Southwell and his new lady, very pretty. Thence back, putting in at Dr. Whore’s, where I saw his lady, a very fine woman. So home, and thither by my desire comes by and by Creed and lay with me, very merry and full of discourse, what to do tomorrow, and the conveniences that will attend my having of this place, and I do think they may be very great.
. Up, Creed and I, and had Mr. Povy’s coach sent for us, and we to his house; where we did some business in order to the work of this day. Povy and I to my Lord Sandwich, who tells me that the Duke is not only a friend to the business, but to me, in terms of the greatest love and respect and value of me that can be thought, which overjoys me. Thence to St. James’s, and there was in great doubt of Brunkerd, but at last I hear that Brunkerd desists. The Duke did direct Secretary Bennet, who was there, to declare his mind to the Tangier Committee, that he approves of me for Treasurer; and with a character of me to be a man whose industry and discretion he would trust soon as any man’s in England: and did the like to my Lord Sandwich. So to Whitehall to the Committee of Tangier, where there were present, my Lord of Albemarle, my Lord Peterborough, Sandwich, Barkeley, FitzHarding, Secretary Bennet, Sir Thomas Ingram, Sir John Lawson, Povy and I. Where, after other business, Povy did declare his business very handsomely; that he was sorry he had been so unhappy in his accounts, as not to give their Lordships the satisfaction he intended, and that he was sure his accounts are right, and continues to submit them to examination, and is ready to lay down in ready money the fault of his account; and that for the future, that the work might be better done and with more quiet to him, he desired, by approbation of the Duke, he might resign his place to Mr. Pepys. Whereupon, Secretary Bennet did deliver the Duke’s command, which was received with great content and allowance beyond expectation; the Secretary repeating also the Duke’s character of me. And I could discern my Lord FitzHarding was well pleased with me, and signified full satisfaction, and whispered something seriously of me to the Secretary. And there I received their constitution under all their hands presently; so that I am already confirmed their Treasurer, and put into a condition of striking of tallies;2455 and all without one harsh word or word of dislike, but quite the contrary; which is a good fortune beyond all imagination. Here we rose, and Povy and Creed and I, all full of joy, thence to dinner, they setting me down at Sir J. Winter’s, by promise, and dined with him; and a worthy fine man he seems to be, and of good discourse, our business was to discourse of supplying the King with iron for anchors, if it can be judged good enough, and a fine thing it is to see myself come to the condition of being received by persons of this rank, he being, and having long been, Secretary to the Queen-Mother. Thence to Povy’s, and there sat and considered of business a little and then home, where late at it, W. Howe being with me about his business of accounts for his money laid out in the fleet, and he gone, I home to supper and to bed. News is this day come of Captain Allen’s being come home from the Straights, as far as Portland, with eleven of the King’s ships, and about twenty-two of merchantmen.
. Up, and my tailor coming to me, did consult all my wardrobe how to order my clothes against next summer. Then to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon to the ’Change, and brought home Mr. Andrews, and there with Mr. Sheply dined and very merry, and a good dinner. Thence to Mr. Povy’s to discourse about settling our business of Treasurer, and I think all things will go very fair between us and to my content, but the more I see the more silly the man seems to me. Thence by coach to the Mewes, but Creed was not there. In our way the coach drove through a lane by Drury Lane, where abundance of loose women stood at the doors, which, God forgive me, did put evil thoughts in me, but proceeded no further, blessed be God. So home, and late at my office, then home and there found a couple of state cups, very large, coming, I suppose, each to about £6 a piece, from Burrows2456 the slopseller.
. Up, and to Mr. Povy’s about our business, and thence I to see Sir Ph. Warwicke, but could not meet with him. So to Mr. Coventry, whose profession of love and esteem for me to myself was so large and free that I never could expect or wish for more, nor could have it from any man in England, that I should value it more. Thence to Mr. Povy’s, and with Creed to the ’Change and to my house, but, it being washing day, dined not at home, but took him (I being invited) to Mr. Hubland’s, the merchant, where Sir William Petty, and abundance of most ingenious men, owners and freighters of The Experiment, now going with her two bodies to sea. Most excellent discourse. Among others, Sir William Petty did tell me that in good earnest he hath in his will2457 left such parts of his estate to him that could invent such and such things. As among others, that could discover truly the way of milk coming into the breasts of a woman; and he that could invent proper characters to express to another the mixture of relishes and tastes. And says, that to him that invents gold, he gives nothing for the philosopher’s stone; for (says he) they that find out that, will be able to pay themselves. But, says he, by this means it is better than to give to a lecture; for here my executors, that must part with this, will be sure to be well convinced of the invention before they do part with their money. After dinner Mr. Hill took me with Mrs. Hubland,2458 who is a fine gentlewoman, into another room, and there made her sing, which she do very well, to my great content. Then to Gresham College, and there did see a kitling killed almost quite,2459 but that we could not quite kill her, with such a way; the air out of a receiver, wherein she was put, and then the air being let in upon her revives her immediately; nay, and this air is to be made by putting together a liquor and some body that ferments, the steam of that do do the work. Thence home, and thence to Whitehall, where the house full of the Duke’s going tomorrow, and thence to St. James’s, wherein these things fell out:
I saw the Duke, kissed his hand, and had his most kind expressions of his value and opinion of me, which comforted me above all things in the world,
the like from Mr. Coventry most heartily and affectionately.
Saw, among other fine ladies, Mrs. Middleton,2460 a very great beauty I never knew or heard of before;
I saw Waller2461 the poet, whom I never saw before.
So, very late, by coach home with W. Penn, who was there. To supper and to bed, with my heart at rest, and my head very busy thinking of my several matters now on foot, the new comfort of my old navy business, and the new one of my employment on Tangier.
. Up and to my Lord Sandwich, who follows the Duke this day by water down to the Hope, where The Prince lies. He received me, busy as he was, with mighty kindness and joy at my promotions; telling me most largely how the Duke hath expressed on all occasions his good opinion of my service and love for me. I paid my thanks and acknowledgement to him; and so back home, where at the office all the morning. At noon to the ’Change. Home, and Lewellin dined with me. Thence abroad, carried my wife to Westminster by coach, I to the Swan, Herbert’s, and there had much of the good company of Sarah and to my wish, and then to see Mrs. Martin, who was very kind, three weeks of her month of lying in is over. So took up my wife and home, and at my office a while, and thence to supper and to bed. Great talk of noises of guns heard at Deale, but nothing particularly whether in earnest or not.
. Up betimes, and by agreement to the Globe tavern in Fleet Street to Mr. Clerke, my solicitor, about the business of my uncle’s accounts, and we went with one Jefferys to one of the Barons (Spelman),2462 and there my accounts were declared and I sworn to the truth thereof to my knowledge, and so I shall after a few formalities be cleared of all. Thence to Povy’s, and there delivered him his letters of greatest import to him that is possible, yet dropped by young Bland, just come from Tangier, upon the road by Sittingburne, taken up and sent to Mr. Pett, at Chatham. Thus everything done by Povy is done with a fatal folly and neglect. Then to our discourse with him, Creed, Mr. Viner, myself and Poyntz about the business of the Workehouse at Clerkenwell, and after dinner went thither and saw all the works there, and did also consult the Act concerning the business and other papers in order to our coming in to undertake it with Povy, the management of the House, but I do not think we can safely meddle with it, at least I, unless I had time to look after it myself, but the thing is very ingenious and laudable. Thence to my Lady Sandwich’s, where my wife all this day, having kept Good Friday very strict with fasting. Here we supped, and talked very merry. My Lady alone with me, very earnest about Sir G. Carteret’s son, with whom I perceive they do desire my Lady Jemimah may be matched. Thence home and to my office, and then to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, where all the morning. At noon dined alone with Sir W. Batten, where great discourse of Sir W. Penn, Sir W. Batten being, I perceive, quite out of love with him, thinking him too great and too high, and began to talk that the world do question his courage, upon which I told him plainly I have been told that he was articled against for it, and that Sir H. Vane was his great friend therein. This he was, I perceive, glad to hear. Thence to the office, and there very late, very busy, to my great content. This afternoon of a sudden is come home Sir W. Penn from the fleet, but upon what score I know not. Late home to supper and to bed.
. Up (and with my wife, who has not been at church a month or two) to church. At noon home to dinner, my wife and I (Mercer staying to the Sacrament) alone. This is the day seven years which, by the blessing of God, I have survived of my being cut of the stone, and am now in very perfect good health and have long been; and though the last winter hath been as hard a winter as any have been these many years, yet I never was better in my life, nor have not, these ten years, gone colder in the summer than I have done all this winter, wearing only a doublet, and a waistcoate cut open on the back; abroad, a cloake and within doors a coat I slipped on. Now I am at a losse to know whether it be my hare’s foot which is my preservative against wind, for I never had a fit of the colic since I wore it, and nothing but wind brings me pain, and the carrying away of wind takes away my pain, or my keeping my back cool; for when I do lie longer than ordinary upon my back in bed, my water the next morning is very hot, or whether it be my taking of a pill of turpentine every morning, which keeps me always loose, or all together, but this I know, with thanks to God Almighty, that I am now as well as ever I can wish or desire to be, having now and then little grudgings of wind, that brings me a little pain, but it is over presently, only I do find that my backe grows very weak, that I cannot stoop to write or tell money without sitting but I have pain for a good while after it. Yet a week or two ago I had one day’s great pain; but it was upon my getting a bruise on one of my testicles, and then I did void two small stones, without pain though, and, upon my going to bed and bearing up of my testicles, I was well the next. But I did observe that my sitting with my back to the fire at the office did then, as it do at all times, make my back ache, and my water hot, and brings me some pain. I sent yesterday an invitation to Mrs. Turner and her family to come to keep this day with me, which she granted, but afterward sent me word that it being Sunday and Easter day she desired to choose another and put off this. Which I was willing enough to do; and so put it off as to this day, and will leave it to my own convenience when to choose another, and perhaps shall escape a feast by it. At my office all the afternoon drawing up my agreement with Mr. Povy for me to sign to him tomorrow morning. In the evening spent an hour in the garden walking with Sir J. Minnes, talking of the Chest business, wherein Sir W. Batten deals so unfairly, wherein the old man is very hot for the present, but that zeal will not last nor is to be trusted. So home to supper, prayers, and to bed.
. Up betimes to Mr. Povy’s, and there did sign and seal my agreement with him about my place of being Treasurer for Tangier, it being the greatest part of it drawnout of a draught of his own drawing up, only I have added something here and there in favour of myself. Thence to the Duke of Albemarle, the first time that we officers of the Navy have waited upon him since the Duke of York’s going, who hath deputed him to be Admiral2463 in his absence. And I find him a quiet heavy man, that will help business when he can, and hinder nothing, and am very well pleased with our attendance on him. I did afterwards alone give him thanks for his favour to me about my Tangier business, which he received kindly, and did speak much of his esteem of me. Thence, and did the same to Sir H. Bennet, who did the like to me very fully, and did give me all his letters lately come from hence for me to read, which I returned in the afternoon to him. Thence to Mrs. Martin, who, though her husband is gone away, as he writes, like a fool into France, yet is as simple and wanton as ever she was, with much I made myself merry and away. So to my Lord Peterborough’s; where Povy, Creed, Williamson, Auditor Beale, and myself, and mighty merry to see how plainly my Lord and Povy did abuse one another about their accounts, each thinking the other a foole, and I thinking they were not either of them, in that point, much in the wrong, though in everything, and even in this manner of reproaching one another, very witty and pleasant. Among other things, we had here the genteelest dinner and the neatest house that I have seen many a day, and the latter beyond anything I ever saw in a nobleman’s house. Thence visited my Lord Barkeley, and did sit discoursing with him in his chamber a good while, and [he] mighty friendly to me about the same business of Tangier. From that to other discourse of the times and the want of money, and he said that the Parliament must be called again soon, and more money raised, not by tax, for he said he believed the people could not pay it, but he would have either a general excise upon everything, or else that every city incorporate should pay a toll into the King’s revenue, as he says it is in all the cities in the world; for here a citizen hath no more laid on them than their neighbours in the country, whereas, as a city, it ought to pay considerably to the King for their charter; but I fear this will breed ill blood. Thence to Povy, and after a little talk home to my office late. Then to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I did most of the business there, God wot. Then to the ’Change, and thence to the Coffeehouse with Sir W. Warren, where much good discourse for us both till 9 o’clock with great pleasure and content, and then parted and I home to dinner, having eat nothing, and so to my office. At night supped with my wife at Sir W. Penn’s, who is to go back for good and all to the fleet tomorrow. Took leave and to my office, where till 12 at night, and then home to bed.
. Up betimes and to Povy’s, where a good while talking about our business; thence abroad into the City, but upon his tallies could not get any money in Lombard Street, through the disrepute which he suffers, I perceive, upon his giving up his place, which people think was not choice, but necessity, as indeed it was. So back to his house, after we had been at my house to taste my wine, but my wife being abroad nobody could come at it, and so we were defeated. To his house, and before dinner he and I did discourse of the business of freight, wherein I am so much concerned, above £100 for myself, and in my over hasty making a bill out for the rest for him, but he resolves to move Creed in it. Which troubled me much, and Creed by and by comes, and after dinner he did, but in the most cunning ingenious manner, do his business with Creed by bringing it in by the by, that the most subtle man in the world could never have done it better, and I must say that he is a most witty, cunning man and one that I [am] most afeard of in my conversation, though in all serious matters of business the veriest foole that ever I met with. The bill was produced and a copy given Creed, whereupon he wrote his Intratur upon the originall, and I hope it will pass, at least I am now put to it that I must stand by it and justify it, but I pray God it may never come to that test. Thence between vexed and joyed, not knowing what yet to make of it, home, calling for my Lord Cooke’s2464 3 volumes at my bookseller’s, and so home, where I found a new cook-maid, her name is ⸻2465 that promises very little. So to my office, where late about drawing up a proposal for Captain Taylor, for him to deliver to the City about his building the new ship, which I have done well, and I hope will do the business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my Lord Ashly, but did nothing, and to Sir Ph. Warwicke and spoke with him about business, and so back to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence to the Tangier Committee, where, Lord! to see how they did run into the giving of Sir J. Lawson (who is come to town today to get this business done) £4,000 about his Mole business, and were going to give him 4s. per yarde more, which arises in the whole Mole to £36,000, is a strange thing, but the latter by chance was stopped, the former was given. Thence to see Mrs. Martin, whose husband being it seems gone away, and as she is informed he hath another woman whom he uses, and has long done, as a wife, she is mighty reserved and resolved to keep herself so till the return of her husband, which a pleasant thing to think of her. Thence home, and to my office, where late, and to bed.
. Up betimes and walked to my Lord Ashly, and there with Creed after long waiting spoke with him, and was civilly used by him; thence to Sir Ph. Warwicke, and then to visit my Lord of Falmouth,2466 who did also receive me pretty civilly, but not as I expected; he, I perceive, believing that I had undertaken to justify Povy’s accounts, taking them upon myself, but I rectified him therein. So to my Lady Sandwich’s to dinner, and up to her chamber after dinner, and there discoursed about Sir G. Carteret’s son, in proposition between us two for my Lady Jemimah. So to Povy, and with him spent the afternoon very busy, till I was weary of following this and neglecting my navy business. So at night called my wife at my Lady’s, and so home. To my office and there made up my month’s account, which, God be praised! rose to £1,300. Which I bless God for. So after 12 o’clock home to supper and to bed. I find Creed mightily transported by my Lord of Falmouth’s kind words to him, and saying that he hath a place in his intention for him, which he believes will be considerable. A witty man he is in every respect, but of no good nature, nor a man ordinarily to be dealt with. My Lady Castlemayne is sicke again, people think, slipping her filly.2467
April 1665
. All the morning very busy at the office preparing a last half-year’s account for my Lord Treasurer. At noon eat a bit and stepped to Sir Ph. Warwicke, by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, and after some private conference and examining of my papers with him I did return into the City and to Sir G. Carteret, whom I found with the Commissioners of Prizes dining at Captain Cocke’s, in Broad Street, very merry. Among other tricks, there did come a blind fiddler to the door, and Sir G. Carteret did go to the door and lead the blind fiddler by the hand in. Thence with Sir G. Carteret to my Lord Treasurer, and by and by come Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, and anon we come to my Lord, and there did lay open the expense for the six months past, and an estimate of the seven months to come, to November next: the first arising to above £500,000, and the latter will, as we judge, come to above £1,000,000. But to see how my Lord Treasurer did bless himself, crying he could do no more than he could, nor give more money than he had, if the occasion and expense were never so great, which is but a sad story. And then to hear how like a passionate and ignorant asse Sir G. Carteret did harangue upon the abuse of Tickets did make me mad almost and yet was fain to hold my tongue. Thence home, vexed mightily to see how simply our greatest ministers do content themselves to understand and do things, while the King’s service in the meantime lies a-bleeding. At my office late writing letters till ready to drop down asleep with my late sitting up of late, and running up and down a-days. So to bed.
. At my office all the morning, renewing my vowes in writing and then home to dinner. All the afternoon, Mr. Tasborough, one of Mr. Povy’s clerks, with me about his master’s accounts. In the evening Mr. Andrews and Hill sang, but supped not with me, then after supper to bed.
. Up and to the Duke of Albemarle and Whitehall, where much business. Thence home and to dinner, and then with Creed, my wife, and Mercer to a play at the Duke’s, of my Lord Orrery’s, called Mustapha,2468 which being not good, made Betterton’s part and Ianthe’s but ordinary too, so that we were not contented with it at all. Thence home and to the office a while, and then home to supper and to bed. All the pleasure of the play was, the King and my Lady Castlemayne were there; and pretty witty Nell2469 at the King’s house, and the younger Marshall2470 sat next us; which pleased me mightily.
. All the morning at the office busy, at noon to the ’Change, and then went up to the ’Change to buy a pair of cotton stockings, which I did at the husband’s shop of the most pretty woman there, who did also invite me to buy some linen of her, and I was glad of the occasion, and bespoke some bands of her, intending to make her my seamstress, she being one of the prettiest and most modest looked women that ever I did see. Dined at home and to the office, where very late till I was ready to fall down asleep, and did several times nod in the middle of my letters.
. This day was kept publicly by the King’s command, as a fast day against the Dutch war, and I betimes with Mr. Tooker,2471 whom I have brought into the Navy to serve us as a husband to see goods timely shipped off from hence to the Fleet and other places, and took him with me to Woolwich and Deptford, where by business I have been hindered a great while of going, did a very great deal of business, and home, and there by promise find Creed, and he and my wife, Mercer and I by coach to take the air; and, where we had formerly been, at Hackney, did there eat some pullets we carried with us, and some things of the house; and after a game or two at shuffleboard, home, and Creed lay with me; but, being sleepy, he had no mind to talk about business, which indeed I intended, by inviting him to lie with me, but I would not force it on him, and so to bed, he and I, and to sleep, being the first time I have been so much at my ease and taken so much fresh air these many weeks or months.
. At the office sat all the morning, where, in the absence of Sir W. Batten, Sir G. Carteret being angry about the business of tickets, spoke of Sir W. Batten for speaking some words about the signing of tickets, and called Sir W. Batten in his discourse at the table to us (the clerks being withdrawn) “shitten foole,” which vexed me. At noon to the ’Change, and there set my business of lighters’ buying for the King, to Sir W. Warren, and I think he will do it for me to very great advantage, at which I am mightily rejoiced. Home and after a mouthful of dinner to the office, where till 6 o’clock, and then to Whitehall, and there with Sir G. Carteret and my Lord Brunkerd attended the Duke of Albemarle about the business of money. I also went to Jervas’s, my barber, for my periwig that was mending there, and there do hear that Jane is quite undone, taking the idle fellow for her husband yet not married, and lay with him several weeks that had another wife and child, and she is now going into Ireland. So called my wife at the ’Change and home, and at my office writing letters till one o’clock in the morning, that I was ready to fall down asleep again. Great talk of a new Comett; and it is certain one do now appear as bright as the late one at the best; but I have not seen it myself.
. Up betimes to the Duke of Albemarle about money to be got for the Navy, or else we must shut up shop. Thence to Westminster Hall and up and down, doing not much; then to London, but to prevent Povy’s dining with me (who I see is at the ’Change) I went back again and to Herbert’s at Westminster, there sent for a bit of meat and dined, and then to my Lord Treasurer’s, and there with Sir Philip Warwicke, and thence to Whitehall in my Lord Treasurer’s chamber with Sir Philip Warwicke till dark night, about fower hours talking of the business of the Navy Charge, and how Sir G. Carteret do order business, keeping us in ignorance what he do with his money, and also Sir Philip did show me nakedly the King’s condition for money for the Navy; and he do assure me, unless the King can get some noblemen or rich money-gentlemen to lend him money, or to get the City to do it, it is impossible to find money: we having already, as he says, spent one year’s share of the three-years’ tax, which comes to £2,500,000. Being very glad of this day’s discourse in all but that I fear I shall quite lose Sir G. Carteret, who knows that I have been privately here all this day with Sir Ph. Warwicke. However, I will order it so as to give him as little offence as I can. So home to my office, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning full of business at the office. At noon dined with Mr. Povy, and then to the getting some business looked over of his, and then I to my Lord Chancellor’s, where to have spoke with the Duke of Albemarle, but the King and Council busy, I could not; then to the Old Exchange and there of my new pretty seamstress bought four bands, and so home, where I found my house mighty neat and clean. Then to my office late, till past 12, and so home to bed. The French Embassadors2472 are come incognito before their train, which will hereafter be very pompous. It is thought they come to get our King to join with the King of France in helping him against Flanders, and they to do the like to us against Holland. We have laine a good while with a good fleet at Harwich. The Dutch not said yet to be out. We, as high as we make our show, I am sure, are unable to set out another small fleet, if this should be worsted. Wherefore, God send us peace! I cry.
. To church with my wife in the morning, in her new light-coloured silk gown, which is, with her new point, very noble. Dined at home, and in the afternoon to Fenchurch,2473 the little church in the middle of Fenchurch Street, where a very few people and few of any rank. Thence, after sermon, home, and in the evening walking in the garden, my Lady Penn and her daughter walked with my wife and I, and so to my house to eat with us, and very merry, and so broke up and to bed.
. Up, and to the Duke of Albemarle’s, and thence to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier, where new disorder about Mr. Povy’s accounts, that I think I shall never be settled in my business of Treasurer for him. Here Captain Cooke met me, and did seem discontented about my boy Tom’s having no time to mind his singing nor lute, which I answered him fully in, that he desired me that I would baste his coat. So home and to the ’Change, and thence to the “Old James” to dine with Sir W. Rider, Cutler, and Mr. Deering, upon the business of hemp, and so hence to Whitehall to have attended the King and Lord Chancellor about the debts of the navy and to get some money, but the meeting failed. So my Lord Brunkard took me and Sir Thomas Harvy in his coach to the Park, which is very troublesome with the dust; and ne’er a great beauty there today but Mrs. Middleton, and so home to my office, where Mr. Warren proposed my getting of £100 to get him a protection for a ship to go out, which I think I shall do. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and betimes to Alderman Cheverton to treat with him about hemp, and so back to the office. At noon dined at the Sun, behind the ’Change, with Sir Edward Deering2474 and his brother and Commissioner Pett, we having made a contract with Sir Edward this day about timber. Thence to the office, where late very busy, but with some trouble have also some hopes of profit too. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where, contrary to all expectation, my Lord Ashly, being vexed with Povy’s accounts, did propose it as necessary that Povy should be still continued Treasurer of Tangier till he had made up his accounts; and with such arguments as, I confess, I was not prepared to answer, but by putting off of the discourse, and so, I think, brought it right again; but it troubled me so all the day after, and night too, that I was not quiet, though I think it doubtful whether I shall be much the worse for it or no, if it should come to be so. Dined at home and thence to Whitehall again (where I lose most of my time nowadays to my great trouble, charge, and loss of time and benefit), and there, after the Council rose, Sir G. Carteret, my Lord Brunkard, Sir Thomas Harvy, and myself, down to my Lord Treasurer’s chamber to him and the Chancellor, and the Duke of Albemarle; and there I did give them a large account of the charge of the Navy, and want of money. But strange to see how they held up their hands crying, “What shall we do?” Says my Lord Treasurer,2475 “Why, what means all this, Mr. Pepys? This is true, you say; but what would you have me to do? I have given all I can for my life. Why will not people lend their money? Why will they not trust the King as well as Oliver? Why do our prizes come to nothing, that yielded so much heretofore?” And this was all we could get, and went away without other answer, which is one of the saddest things that, at such a time as this, with the greatest action on foot that ever was in England, nothing should be minded, but let things go on of themselves do as well as they can. So home, vexed, and going to my Lady Batten’s, there found a great many women with her, in her chamber merry, my Lady Penn and her daughter, among others; where my Lady Penn flung me down upon the bed, and herself and others, one after another, upon me, and very merry we were, and thence I home and called my wife with my Lady Penn to supper, and very merry as I could be, being vexed as I was. So home to bed.
. Lay long in bed, troubled a little with wind, but not much. So to the office, and there all the morning. At noon to Sheriff Waterman’s2476 to dinner, all of us men of the office in town, and our wives, my Lady Carteret and daughters, and Ladies Batten, Penn, and my wife, etc., and very good cheer we had and merry; music at and after dinner, and a fellow danced a jig; but when the company begun to dance, I came away lest I should be taken out; and God knows how my wife carried herself, but I left her to try her fortune. So home, and late at the office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and betimes to Mr. Povy, being desirous to have an end of my trouble of mind touching my Tangier business, whether he hath any desire of accepting what my Lord Ashly offered, of his becoming Treasurer again; and there I did, with a seeming most generous spirit, offer him to take it back again upon his own terms; but he did answer to me that he would not above all things in the world, at which I was for the present satisfied; but, going away thence and speaking with Creed, he puts me in doubt that the very nature of the thing will require that he be put in again; and did give me the reasons of the auditors, which, I confess, are so plain, that I know not how to withstand them. But he did give me most ingenious advice what to do in it, and anon, my Lord Barkeley and some of the Commissioners coming together, though not in a meeting, I did procure that they should order Povy’s payment of his remain of accounts to me; which order if it do pass will put a good stop to the fastening of the thing upon me. At noon Creed and I to a cook’s shop at Charing Cross, and there dined and had much discourse, and his very good upon my business, and upon other things, among the rest upon Will Howe’s dissembling with us, we discovering one to another his carriage to us, present and absent, being a very false fellow. Thence to Whitehall again, and there spent the afternoon, and then home to fetch a letter for the Council, and so back to Whitehall, where walked an hour with Mr. Wren, of my Lord Chancellor’s, and Mr. Ager, and then to Unthanke’s and called my wife, and with her through the city to Mile-End Greene, and eat some creame and cakes and so back home, and I a little at the office, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning I was saluted with news that the fleetes, ours and the Dutch, were engaged, and that the guns were heard at Walthamstow to play all yesterday, and that Captain Teddiman’s2477 legs were shot off in the Royal Katherine. But before night I hear the contrary, both by letters of my own and messengers thence, that they were all well of our side and no enemy appears yet, and that the Royal Katherine is come to the fleet, and likely to prove as good a ship as any the King hath, of which I am heartily glad, both for Christopher Pett’s sake and Captain Teddiman that is in her.
. Up, and to Whitehall about several businesses, but chiefly to see the proposals of my warrants about Tangier under Creed, but to my trouble found them not finished. So back to the office, where all the morning, busy, then home to dinner, and then all the afternoon till very late at my office, and then home to supper and to bed, weary.
. Lay long in bed, then up and to my chamber and my office, looking over some plates which I find necessary for me to understand pretty well, because of the Dutch war. Then home to dinner, where Creed dined with us, and so after dinner he and I walked to the Rolls’ Chapel, expecting to hear the great Stillingfleete2478 preach, but he did not; but a very sorry fellow, which vexed me. The sermon done, we parted, and I home, where I find Mr. Andrews, and by and by comes Captain Taylor,2479 my old acquaintance at Westminster, that understands music very well and composes mighty bravely; he brought us some things of two parts to sing, very hard; but that that is the worst, he is very conceited of them, and that though they are good makes them troublesome to one, to see him every note commend and admire them. He supped with me, and a good understanding man he is and a good scholler, and, among other things, a great antiquary, and among other things he can, as he says, show the very originall Charter2480 to Worcester, of King Edgar’s, wherein he stiles himself, Rex Marium Brittanniæ, etc.; which is the great text that Mr. Selden and others do quote, but imperfectly and upon trust. But he hath the very originall, which he says he will show me. He gone we to bed. This night I am told that news is come of our taking of three Dutch men-of-war, with the loss of one of our Captains.
. Up and to the Duke of Albemarle’s, where he showed me Mr. Coventry’s letters, how three Dutch privateers are taken, in one whereof Everson’s2481 son is captaine. But they have killed poor Captaine Golding2482 in The Diamond. Two of them, one of 32 and the other of 20 odd guns, did stand stoutly up against her, which hath 46, and the Yarmouth that hath 52 guns, and as many more men as they. So that they did more than we could expect, not yielding till many of their men were killed. And Everson, when he was brought before the Duke of York, and was observed to be shot through the hat, answered, that he wished it had gone through his head, rather than been taken. One thing more is written: that two of our ships the other day appearing upon the coast of Holland, they presently fired their beacons round the country to give notice. And news is brought the King, that the Dutch Smyrna fleet is seen upon the back of Scotland; and thereupon the King hath wrote to the Duke, that he do appoint a fleet to go to the Northward to try to meet them coming home round: which God send! Thence to Whitehall; where the King seeing me, did come to me, and calling me by name, did discourse with me about the ships in the River: and this is the first time that ever I knew the King did know me personally; so that hereafter I must not go thither, but with expectation to be questioned, and to be ready to give good answers. So home, and thence with Creed, who come to dine with me, to the Old James, where we dined with Sir W. Rider and Cutler, and, by and by, being called by my wife, we all to a play, The Ghosts,2483 at the Duke’s house, but a very simple play. Thence up and down, with my wife with me, to look [for] Sir Ph. Warwicke (Mr. Creed going from me), but missed of him and so home, and late and busy at my office. So home to supper and to bed. This day was left at my house a very neat silver watch, by one Briggs, a scrivener and solicitor, at which I was angry with my wife for receiving, or, at least, for opening the box wherein it was, and so far witnessing our receipt of it, as to give the messenger 5s. for bringing it; but it can’t be helped, and I will endeavour to do the man a kindness, he being a friend of my uncle Wight’s.
. Up and to Sir Philip Warwicke, and walked with him an houre with great delight in the Park about Sir G. Carteret’s accounts, and the endeavours that he hath made to bring Sir G. Carteret to show his accounts and let the world see what he receives and what he pays. Thence home to the office, where I find Sir J. Minnes come home from Chatham, and Sir W. Batten both this morning from Harwich, where they have been these 7 or 8 days. At noon with my wife and Mr. Moore by water to Chelsey about my Privy Seale for Tangier, but my Lord Privy Seale was gone abroad, and so we, without going out of the boat, forced to return, and found him not at Whitehall. So I to Sir Philip Warwicke and with him to my Lord Treasurer, who signed my commission for Tangier-Treasurer and the docquet of my Privy Seale, for the monies to be paid to me. Thence to Whitehall to Mr. Moore again, and not finding my Lord I home, taking my wife and woman up at Unthanke’s. Late at my office, then to supper and to bed.
. Up by five o’clock, and by water to Whitehall; and there took coach, and with Mr. Moore to Chelsy; where, after all my fears what doubts and difficulties my Lord Privy Seale2484 would make at my Tangier Privy Seale, he did pass it at first reading, without my speaking with him. And then called me in, and was very civil to me. I passed my time in contemplating (before I was called in) the picture of my Lord’s son’s lady, a most beautiful woman,2485 and most like to Mrs. Butler. Thence very much joyed to London back again, and found out Mr. Povy; told him this; and then went and left my Privy Seale at my Lord Treasurer’s; and so to the ’Change, and thence to Trinity-House; where a great dinner of Captain Crisp, who is made an Elder Brother. And so, being very pleasant at dinner, away home, Creed with me; and there met Povy; and we to Gresham College, where we saw some experiments upon a hen, a dog, and a cat, of the Florence poison.2486 The first it made for a time drunk, but it come to itself again quickly; the second it made vomit mightily, but no other hurt. The third I did not stay to see the effect of it, being taken out by Povy. He and I walked below together, he giving me most exceeding discouragements in the getting of money (whether by design or no I know not, for I am now come to think him a most cunning fellow in most things he do, but his accounts), and made it plain to me that money will be hard to get, and that it is to be feared Backewell hath a design in it to get the thing forced upon himself. This put me into a cruel melancholy to think I may lose what I have had so near my hand; but yet something may be hoped for which tomorrow will show. He gone, Creed and I together a great while consulting what to do in this case, and after all I left him to do what he thought fit in his discourse tomorrow with my Lord Ashly. So home, and in my way met with Mr. Warren, from whom my hopes I fear will fail of what I hoped for, by my getting him a protection. But all these troubles will if not be over, yet we shall see the worst of there in a day or two. So to my office, and thence to supper, and my head aching, betimes, that is by 10 or 11 o’clock, to bed.
. Up, and all the morning busy at the office. At noon dined, and Mr. Povy by agreement with me (where his boldness with Mercer, poor innocent wench, did make both her and me blush, to think how he were able to debauch a poor girl if he had opportunity) at a dish or two of plain meat of his own choice. After dinner comes Creed and then Andrews, where want of money to Andrews the main discourse, and at last in confidence of Creed’s judgement I am resolved to spare him 4 or £500 of what lies by me upon the security of some Tallies. This went against my heart to begin, but when obtaining Mr. Creed to join with me we do resolve to assist Mr. Andrews. Then anon we parted, and I to my office, where late, and then home to supper and to bed. This night I am told the first play is played in Whitehall noon-hall, which is now turned to a house of playing. I had a great mind, but could not go to see it.
. Up and to my office about business. Anon comes Creed and Povy, and we treat about the business of our lending money, Creed and I, upon a tally for the satisfying of Andrews, and did conclude it as in papers is expressed, and as I am glad to have an opportunity of having 10 percent for my money, so I am as glad that the sum I begin this trade with is no more than £350. We all dined at Andrews’ charge at the Sun behind the ’Change, a good dinner the worst dressed that ever I eat any, then home, and there found Kate Joyce and Harman come to see us. With them, after long talk, abroad by coach, a tour in the fields, and drunk at Islington, it being very pleasant, the dust being laid by a little rain, and so home very well pleased with this day’s work. So after a while at my office to supper and to bed. This day we hear that the Duke and the fleet are sailed yesterday. Pray God go along with them, that they have good speed in the beginning of their worke.
. Up, and Mr. Caesar, my boy’s lute-master, being come betimes to teach him, I did speak with him seriously about the boy, what my mind was, if he did not look after his lute and singing that I would turn him away; which I hope will do some good upon the boy. All the morning busy at the office. At noon dined at home, and then to the office again very busy till very late, and so home to supper and to bed. My wife making great preparation to go to Court to Chapel tomorrow. This day I have news from Mr. Coventry that the fleet is sailed yesterday from Harwich to the coast of Holland to see what the Dutch will do. God go along with them!
. Mr. Povy, according to promise, sent his coach betimes, and I carried my wife and her woman to Whitehall Chapel and set them in the Organ Loft, and I having left to untruss went to the Harp and Ball and there drank also, and entertained myself in talk with the maid of the house, a pretty maid and very modest. Thence to the Chapel and heard the famous young Stillingfleete, whom I knew at Cambridge, and is now newly admitted one of the King’s chaplains; and was presented, they say, to my Lord Treasurer for St. Andrew’s, Holborne, where he is now minister, with these words: that they (the Bishops of Canterbury, London, and another) believed he is the ablest young man to preach the Gospel of any since the Apostles. He did make the most plain, honest, good, grave sermon, in the most unconcerned and easy yet substantial manner, that ever I heard in my life, upon the words of Samuell to the people, “Fear the Lord in truth with all your heart, and remember the great things that he hath done for you.” It being proper to this day, the day of the King’s Coronation. Thence to Mr. Povy’s, where mightily treated, and Creed with us. But Lord! to see how Povy overdoes everything in commending it, do make it nauseous to me, and was not (by reason of my large praise of his house) over acceptable to my wife. Thence after dinner Creed and we by coach took the air in the fields beyond St. Pancras, it raining now and then, which it seems is most welcome weather, and then all to my house, where comes Mr. Hill, Andrews, and Captain Taylor, and good music, but at supper to hear the arguments2487 we had against Taylor concerning a Corant, he saying that the law of a dancing Corant is to have every barr to end in a pricked crochet and quaver, which I did deny, was very strange. It proceeded till I vexed him, but all parted friends, for Creed and I to laugh at when he was gone. After supper, Creed and I together to bed, in Mercer’s bed, and so to sleep.
. Up and with Creed in Sir W. Batten’s coach to Whitehall. Sir W. Batten and I to the Duke of Albemarle, where very busy. Then I to Creed’s chamber, where I received with much ado my two orders about receiving Povy’s monies and answering his credits, and it is strange how he will preserve his constant humour of delaying all business that comes before him. Thence he and I to London to my office, and back again to my Lady Sandwich’s to dinner, where my wife by agreement. After dinner alone, my Lady told me, with the prettiest kind of doubtfulness, whether it would be fit for her with respect to Creed to do it, that is, in the world, that Creed had broke his desire to her of being a servant to Mrs. Betty Pickering, and placed it upon encouragement which he had from some discourse of her ladyship, commending of her virtues to him, which, poor lady, she meant most innocently. She did give him a cold answer, but not so severe as it ought to have been; and, it seems, as the lady since to my Lady confesses, he had wrote a letter to her, which she answered slightly, and was resolved to contemn any motion of his therein. My Lady takes the thing very ill, as it is fit she should; but I advise her to stop all future occasions of the world’s taking notice of his coming thither so often as of late he hath done. But to think that he should have this devilish presumption to aim at a lady so near to my Lord is strange, both for his modesty and discretion. Thence to the Cockpit, and there walked an houre with my Lord Duke of Albemarle alone in his garden, where he expressed in great words his opinion of me; that I was the right hand of the Navy here, nobody but I taking any care of anything therein; so that he should not know what could be done without me. At which I was (from him) not a little proud. Thence to a Committee of Tangier, where because not a quorum little was done, and so away to my wife (Creed with me) at Mrs. Pierce’s, who continues very pretty and is now great with child. I had not seen her a great while. Thence by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, but could not speak with Sir Ph. Warwicke. So by coach with my wife and Mercer to the Park; but the King being there, and I nowadays being doubtful of being seen in any pleasure, did part from the tour, and away out of the Park to Knightsbridge, and there eat and drank in the coach, and so home, and after a while at my office, home to supper and to bed, having got a great cold I think by my pulling off my periwig so often.
. At the office all the morning, and the like after dinner, at home all the afternoon till very late, and then to bed, being very hoarse with a cold I did lately get with leaving off my periwig. This afternoon W. Penn, lately come from his father in the fleet, did give me an account how the fleet did sail, about 103 in all, besides small catches, they being in sight of six or seven Dutch scouts, and sent ships in chase of them.
. Up very betimes, my cold continuing and my stomach sick with the buttered ale that I did drink the last night in bed, which did lie upon me till I did this morning vomit it up. So walked to Povy’s, where Creed met me, and there I did receive the first parcel of money as Treasurer of Tangier, and did give him my receipt for it, which was about £2,800 value in Tallies; we did also examine and settle several other things, and then I away to Whitehall, talking, with Povy alone, about my opinion of Creed’s indiscretion in looking after Mrs. Pickering, desiring him to make no more a sport of it, but to correct him, if he finds that he continues to own any such thing. This I did by my Lady’s desire, and do intend to pursue the stop of it. So to the Carrier’s by Cripplegate, to see whether my mother be come to town or no, I expecting her today, but she is not come. So to dinner to my Lady Sandwich’s, and there after dinner above in the dining room did spend an houre or two with her talking again about Creed’s folly; but strange it is that he should dare to propose this business himself of Mrs. Pickering to my Lady, and to tell my Lady that he did it for her virtue sake, not minding her money, for he could have a wife with more, but, for that, he did intend to depend upon her Ladyship to get as much of her father and mother for her as she could; and that, what he did, was by encouragement from discourse of her Ladyship’s: he also had wrote to Mrs. Pickering, but she did give him a slighting answer back again. But I do very much fear that Mrs. Pickering’s honour, if the world comes to take notice of it, may be wronged by it. Thence home, and all the afternoon till night at my office, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where all the morning, at noon Creed dined with me; and, after dinner, walked in the garden, he telling me that my Lord Treasurer now begins to be scrupulous, and will know what becomes of the £26,000 saved by my Lord Peterborough, before he parts with any more money, which puts us into new doubts, and me into a great fear, that all my cake will be doe still.2488 But I am well prepared for it to bear it, being not clear whether it will be more for my profit to have it, or go without it, as my profits of the Navy are likely now to be. All the afternoon till late hard at the office. Then to supper and to bed. This night William Hewer is returned from Harwich, where he hath been paying off of some ships this fortnight, and went to sea a good way with the fleet, which was 96 in company then, men of war, besides some come in, and following them since, which makes now above 100, whom God bless!
. Up by 5 o’clock, and by appointment with Creed by 6 at his chamber, expecting Povy, who come not. Thence he and I out to Sir Philip Warwicke’s, but being not up we took a turn in the garden hard by, and thither comes Povy to us. After some discourse of the reason of the difficulty that Sir Philip Warwicke makes in issuing a warrant for my striking of tallies, namely, the having a clear account of the £26,000 saved by my Lord of Peterborough, we parted, and I to Sir P. Warwicke, who did give me an account of his demurr, which I applied myself to remove by taking Creed with me to my Lord Ashly, from whom, contrary to all expectation, I received a very kind answer, just as we could have wished it, that he would satisfy my Lord Treasurer. Thence very well satisfied I home, and down the River to visit the victualling-ships, where I find all out of order. And come home to dinner, and then to write a letter to the Duke of Albemarle about the victualling-ships, and carried it myself to the Council-chamber, where it was read; and when they rose, my Lord Chancellor passing by stroked me on the head, and told me that the Board had read my letter, and taken order for the punishing of the watermen for not appearing on board the ships.2489 And so did the King afterwards, who do now know me so well, that he never sees me but he speaks to me about our Navy business. Thence got my Lord Ashly to my Lord Treasurer below in his chamber, and there removed the scruple, and by and by brought Mr. Sherwin to Sir Philip Warwicke and did the like, and so home, and after a while at my office, to bed.
. All the morning busy at the office. In the afternoon to my Lord Treasurer’s, and there got my Lord Treasurer to sign the warrant for my striking of tallies, and so doing many jobbs in my way home, and there late writing letters, being troubled in my mind to hear that Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes do take notice that I am nowadays much from the office upon no office business, which vexes me, and will make me mind my business the better, I hope in God; but what troubles me more is, that I do omit to write, as I should do, to Mr. Coventry, which I must not do, though this night I minded it so little as to sleep in the middle of my letter to him, and committed forty blotts and blurrs in my letter to him, but of this I hope never more to be guilty, if I have not already given him sufficient offence. So, late home, and to bed.
. Up and to my office alone all the morning, making up my monthly accounts, which though it hath been very intricate, and very great disbursements and receipts and odd reckonings, yet I differed not from the truth; viz.: between my first computing what my profit ought to be and then what my cash and debts do really make me worth, not above 10s., which is very much, and I do much value myself upon the account, and herein I with great joy find myself to have gained this month above £100 clear, and in the whole to be worth above £1,400, the greatest sum I ever yet was worth. Thence home to dinner, and there find poor Mr. Spong walking at my door, where he had knocked, and being told I was at the office stayed modestly there walking because of disturbing me, which methinks was one of the most modest acts (of a man that hath no need of being so to me) that ever I knew in my life. He dined with me, and then after dinner to my closet, where abundance of mighty pretty discourse, wherein, in a word, I find him the man of the world that hath of his own ingenuity obtained the most in most things, being withall no scholler. He gone, I took boat and down to Woolwich and Deptford, and made it late home, and so to supper and to bed. Thus I end this month in great content as to my estate and gettings: in much trouble as to the pains I have taken, and the rubs I expect yet to meet with, about the business of Tangier. The fleet, with about 106 ships upon the coast of Holland, in sight of the Dutch, within the Texel. Great fears of the sickness here in the City, it being said that two or three houses are already shut up. God preserve as all!
May 1665
. Up and to Mr. Povy’s, and by his bedside talked a good while. Among other things he do much insist I perceive upon the difficulty of getting of money, and would fain have me to concur in the thinking of some other way of disposing of the place of Treasurer to one Mr. Bell, but I did seem slight of it, and resolved to try to do the best or to give it up. Thence to the Duke of Albemarle, where I was sorry to find myself to come a little late, and so home, and at noon going to the ’Change I met my Lord Brunkard, Sir Robert Murry, Deane Wilkins, and Mr. Hooke, going by coach to Colonel Blunt’s2490 to dinner. So they stopped and took me with them. Landed at the Tower-wharf, and thence by water to Greenwich; and there coaches met us; and to his house, a very stately sight for situation and brave plantations; and among others, a vineyard, the first that ever I did see. No extraordinary dinner, nor any other entertainment good; but only after dinner to the trial of some experiments about making of coaches easy. And several we tried; but one did prove mighty easy (not here for me to describe, but the whole body of the coach lies upon one long spring), and we all, one after another, rid in it; and it is very fine and likely to take. These experiments were the intent of their coming, and pretty they are. Thence back by coach to Greenwich, and in his pleasure boat to Deptford, and there stopped and in to Mr. Evelyn’s2491 which is a most beautiful place; but it being dark and late, I stayed not; but Deane Wilkins and Mr. Hooke and I walked to Redriffe; and noble discourse all day long did please me, and it being late did take them to my house to drink, and did give them some sweetmeats, and thence sent them with a lantern home, two worthy persons as are in England, I think, or the world. So to my Lady Batten, where my wife is tonight, and so after some merry talk home and to bed.
. Up and to the office all day, where sat late, and then to the office again, and by and by Sir W. Batten and my Lady and my wife and I by appointment yesterday (my Lady Penn failed us, who ought to have been with us) to the Rhenish winehouse at the Steelyard, and there eat a couple of lobsters and some prawns, and pretty merry, especially to see us four together, while my wife and my Lady did never intend ever to be together again after a year’s distance between one another. Hither by and by come Sir Richard Ford and also Mrs. Esther, that lived formerly with my Lady Batten, now well married to a priest, come to see my Lady. Thence toward evening home, and to my office, where late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and walked to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s, where a long time with him in his chamber alone talking of Sir G. Carteret’s business, and the abuses he puts on the nation by his bad payments to both our vexations, but no hope of remedy for ought I see. Thence to my Lord Ashly to a Committee of Tangier for my Lord Rutherford’s accounts, and that done we to my Lord Treasurer’s, where I did receive my Lord’s warrant to Sir R. Long for drawing a warrant for my striking of tallies. So to the Inne again by Cripplegate, expecting my mother’s coming to town, but she is not come this weeke neither, the coach being too full. So to the ’Change and thence home to dinner, and so out to Gresham College, and saw a cat killed with the Duke of Florence’s poison, and saw it proved that the oil of tobacco2492 drawn by one of the Society do the same effect, and is judged to be the same thing with the poison both in colour and smell, and effect. I saw also an abortive child preserved fresh in spirits of salt. Thence parted, and to Whitehall to the Councilchamber about an order touching the Navy (our being empowered to commit seamen or Masters that do not, being hired or pressed, follow their worke), but they could give us none. So a little vexed at that, because I put in the memorial to the Duke of Albemarle alone under my own hand, home, and after some time at the office home to bed. My Lord Chief-Justice Hide2493 did die suddenly this week, a day or two ago, of an apoplexy.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again all day till almost midnight, and then, weary, home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and by water to Westminster, there to speak the first time with Sir Robert Long, to give him my Privy Seal and my Lord Treasurer’s order for Tangier Tallies; he received me kindly enough. Thence home by water, and presently down to Woolwich and back to Blackewall, and there, viewed the Breach, in order to a Mast Docke,2494 and so to Deptford to the Globe, where my Lord Brunkard, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and Commissioner Pett were at dinner, having been at the Breach also, but they find it will be too great charge to make use of it. After dinner to Mr. Evelyn’s; he being abroad, we walked in his garden, and a lovely noble ground he hath indeed. And among other rarities, a hive of bees, so as being hived in glass, you may see the bees making their honey and combs mighty pleasantly. Thence home, and I by and by to Mr. Povy’s to see him, who is yet in his chamber not well, and thence by his advice to one Lovett’s, a varnisher, to see his manner of new varnish, but found not him at home, but his wife, a very beautiful woman, who showed me much variety of admirable work, and is in order to my having of some papers fitted with his lines for my use for tables and the like. I know not whether I was more pleased with the thing, or that I was showed it by her, but resolved I am to have some made. So home to my office late, and then to supper and to bed. My wife tells me that she hears that my poor aunt James hath had her breast cut off here in town, her breast having long been out of order. This day, after I had suffered my own hair to grow long, in order to wearing it, I find the convenience of periwigs is so great, that I have cut off all short again, and will keep to periwigs.
. Up, and all day at the office, but a little at dinner, and there late till past 12. So home to bed, pleased as I always am after I have rid a great deal of work, it being very satisfactory to me.
. Up, and to church with my wife. Home and dined. After dinner come Mr. Andrews and spent the afternoon with me, about our Tangier business of the victuals, and then parted, and after sermon comes Mr. Hill and a gentleman, a friend of his, one Mr. Scott, that sings well also, and then comes Mr. Andrews, and we all sung and supped, and then to sing again and passed the Sunday very pleasantly and soberly, and so I to my office a little, and then home to prayers and to bed. Yesterday begun my wife to learn to limn of one Browne,2495 which Mr. Hill helps her to, and, by her beginning upon some eyes, I think she will [do] very fine things, and I shall take great delight in it.
. Up very betimes, and did much business before I went out with several persons, among others Captain Taylor, who would leave the management of most of his business now he is going to Harwich, upon me, and if I can get money by it, which I believe it will, I shall take some of it upon me. Thence with Sir W. Batten to the Duke of Albemarle’s and there did much business, and then to the ’Change, and thence off with Sir W. Warren to an ordinary, where we dined and sat talking of most useful discourse till 5 in the afternoon, and then home, and very busy till late, and so home and to bed.
. Up betimes, and to my business at the office, where all the morning. At noon comes Mrs. The. Turner, and dines with us, and my wife’s painting-master stayed and dined; and I take great pleasure in thinking that my wife will really come to something in that business. Here dined also Luellin. So after dinner to my office, and there very busy till almost midnight, and so home to supper and to bed. This day we have news of eight ships being taken by some of ours going into the Texel, their two men of war, that convoyed them, running in. They come from about Ireland, round to the north.
. Up betimes, and abroad to the Cockpit, where the Duke [of Albemarle] did give Sir W. Batten and me an account of the late taking of eight ships, and of his intent to come back to the Gunfleete2496 with the fleet presently; which creates us much work and haste therein, against the fleet comes. So to Mr. Povy, and after discourse with him home, and thence to the Guard in Southwarke, there to get some soldiers, by the Duke’s order, to go keep pressmen on board our ships. So to the ’Change and did much business, and then home to dinner, and there find my poor mother come out of the country today in good health, and I am glad to see her, but my business, which I am sorry for, keeps me from paying the respect I ought to her at her first coming, she being grown very weak in her judgement, and doting again in her discourse, through age and some trouble in her family. I left her and my wife to go abroad to buy something, and then I to my office. In the evening by appointment to Sir W. Warren and Mr. Deering at a tavern hard by with intent to do some good upon their agreement in a great bargain of planks. So home to my office again, and then to supper and to bed, my mother being in bed already.
. Up betimes, and at the office all the morning. At home dined, and then to the office all day till late at night, and then home to supper, weary with business, and to bed.
. Up betimes, and find myself disappointed in my receiving presently of my £50 I hoped for sure of Mr. Warren upon the benefit of my press warrant, but he promises to make it good. So by water to the Exchequer, and there up and down through all the offices to strike my tallies for £17,500, which methinks is so great a testimony of the goodness of God to me, that I, from a mean clerke there, should come to strike tallies myself for that sum, and in the authority that I do now, is a very stupendous mercy to me. I shall have them struck tomorrow. But to see how every little fellow looks after his fees, and to get what he can for everything, is a strange consideration; the King’s fees that he must pay himself for this £17,500 coming to above £100. Thence called my wife at Unthanke’s to the New Exchange and elsewhere to buy a lace band for me, but we did not buy, but I find it so necessary to have some handsome clothes that I cannot but lay out some money thereupon. To the ’Change and thence to my watchmaker, where he has put it2497 in order, and a good and brave piece it is, and he tells me worth £14 which is a greater present than I valued it. So home to dinner, and after dinner comes several people, among others my cousin, Thomas Pepys, of Hatcham,2498 to receive some money, of my Lord Sandwich’s, and there I paid him what was due to him upon my uncle’s score, but, contrary to my expectation, did get him to sign and seale to my sale of lands for payment of debts. So that now I reckon myself in better condition by £100 in my content than I was before, when I was liable to be called to an account and others after me by my uncle Thomas or his children for every foot of land we had sold before. This I reckon a great good fortune in the getting of this done. He gone, come Mr. Povy, Dr. Twisden, and Mr. Lawson about settling my security in the paying of the £4,000 ordered to Sir J. Lawson. So a little abroad and then home, and late at my office and closet settling this day’s disordering of my papers, then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all day in some little gruntings of pain, as I used to have from winde, arising I think from my fasting so long, and want of exercise, and I think going so hot in clothes, the weather being hot, and the same clothes I wore all winter. To the ’Change after office, and received my watch from the watchmaker, and a very fine [one] it is, given me by Briggs, the Scrivener. Home to dinner, and then I abroad to the Attorney General, about advice upon the Act for Land Carriage, which he desired not to give me before I had received the King’s and Council’s order therein; going home bespoke the King’s works, will cost me 50s., I believe. So home and late at my office. But, Lord! to see how much of my old folly and childishness hangs upon me still that I cannot forbear carrying my watch in my hand in the coach all this afternoon, and seeing what o’clock it is one hundred times; and am apt to think with myself, how could I be so long without one; though I remember since, I had one, and found it a trouble, and resolved to carry one no more about me while I lived. So home to supper and to bed, being troubled at a letter from Mr. Cholmly from Tangier, wherein he do advise me how people are at worke to overthrow our Victualling business, by which I shall lose £300 per annum, I am much obliged to him for this, secret kindness, and concerned to repay it him in his own concernments and look after this.
. Up, and with my wife to church, it being Whitsunday; my wife very fine in a new yellow bird’s-eye hood, as the fashion is now. We had a most sorry sermon; so home to dinner, my mother having her new suit brought home, which makes her very fine. After dinner my wife and she and Mercer to Thomas Pepys’s wife’s christening of his first child, and I took a coach, and to Wanstead, the house where Sir H. Mildmay died, and now Sir Robert Brookes2499 lives, having bought it of the Duke of York, it being forfeited to him. A fine seat, but an old-fashioned house; and being not full of people looks desolately. Thence to Walthamstow, where (failing at the old place) Sir W. Batten by and by come home, I walking up and down the house and garden with my Lady very pleasantly, then to supper very merry, and then back by coach by dark night. I all the afternoon in the coach reading the treasonous book of the Court of King James, printed a great while ago, and worth reading, though ill intended. As soon as I come home, upon a letter from the Duke of Albemarle, I took boat at about 12 at night, and down the River in a gally, my boy and I, down to the Hope and so up again, sleeping and waking, with great pleasure, my business to call upon every one of …
… our victualling ships to set them agoing, and so home, and after dinner to the King’s playhouse, all alone, and saw Love’s Mistress.2500 Some pretty things and good variety in it, but no or little fancy in it. Thence to the Duke of Albemarle to give him account of my day’s works, where he showed me letters from Sir G. Downing, of four days’ date, that the Dutch are come out and joined, well-manned, and resolved to board our best ships, and fight for certain they will. Thence to the Swan at Herbert’s, and there the company of Sarah a little while, and so away and called at the Harp and Ball, where the maid, Mary, is very formosa;2501 but, Lord! to see in what readiness I am, upon the expiring of my vowes this day, to begin to run into all my pleasures and neglect of business. Thence home, and being sleepy to bed.
. Up betimes, and to the Duke of Albemarle with an account of my yesterday’s actions in writing. So back to the office, where all the morning very busy. After dinner by coach to see and speak with Mr. Povy, and after little discourse back again home, where busy upon letters till past 12 at night, and so home to supper and to bed, weary.
. Up, and by appointment to a meeting of Sir John Lawson and Mr. Cholmly’s attorney and Mr. Povy at the Swan tavern at Westminster to settle their business about my being secured in the payment of money to Sir J. Lawson in the other’s absence. Thence at Langford’s, where I never was since my brother died there. I find my wife and Mercer, having with him agreed upon two rich silk suits for me, which is fit for me to have, but yet the money is too much, I doubt, to lay out altogether; but it is done, and so let it be, it being the expense of the world that I can the best bear with and the worst spare. Thence home, and after dinner to the office, where late, and so home to supper and to bed. Sir J. Minnes and I had an angry bout this afternoon with Commissioner Pett about his neglecting his duty and absenting himself, unknown to us, from his place at Chatham, but a most false man I every day find him more and more, and in this very full of equivocation. The fleet we doubt not come to Harwich by this time. Sir W. Batten is gone down this day thither, and the Duchess of York went down yesterday to meet the Duke.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to the Duke of Albemarle, where we did much business, and I with good content to myself; among other things we did examine Nixon and Stanesby,2502 about their late running from two Dutchmen; for which they are committed to a vessel to carry them to the fleet to be tried. A most fowle unhandsome thing as ever was heard, for plain cowardice on Nixon’s part. Thence with the Duke of Albemarle in his coach to my Lord Treasurer, and there was before the King (who ever now calls me by my name) and Lord Chancellor, and many other great Lords, discoursing about insuring of some of the King’s goods, wherein the King accepted of my motion that we should; and so away, well pleased. To the office, and dined, and then to the office again, and abroad to speak with Sir G. Carteret; but, Lord! to see how fraile a man I am, subject to my vanities, that can hardly forbear, though pressed with never so much business, my pursuing of pleasure, but home I got, and there very busy very late. Among other things consulting with Mr. Andrews about our Tangier business, wherein we are like to meet with some trouble, and my Lord Bellasses’s endeavour to supplant us, which vexes my mind; but, however, our undertaking is so honourable that we shall stand a tug for it I think. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to Whitehall, where the Committee for Tangier met, and there, though the case as to the merit of it was most plain and most of the company favourable to our business, yet it was with much ado that I got the business not carried fully against us, but put off to another day, my Lord Arlington being the great man in it, and I was sorry to be found arguing so greatly against him. The business I believe will in the end be carried against us, and the whole business fall; I must therefore endeavour the most I can to get money another way. It vexed me to see Creed so hot against it, but I cannot much blame him, having never declared to him my being concerned in it. But that that troubles me most is my Lord Arlington calls to me privately and asks me whether I had ever said to anybody that I desired to leave this employment, having not time to look after it. I told him, No, for that the thing being settled it will not require much time to look after it. He told me then he would do me right to the King, for he had been told so, which I desired him to do, and by and by he called me to him again and asked me whether I had no friend about the Duke, asking me (I making a stand) whether Mr. Coventry was not my friend. I told him I had received many friendships from him. He then advised me to procure that the Duke would in his next letter write to him to continue me in my place and remove any obstruction; which I told him I would, and thanked him. So parted, vexed at the first and amazed at this business of my Lord Arlington’s. Thence to the Exchequer, and there got my tallies for £17,500, the first payment I ever had out of the Exchequer, and at the Leg spent 14s. upon my old acquaintance, some of them the clerks, and away home with my tallies in a coach, fearful every step of having one of them fall out, or snatched from me. Being come home, I much troubled out again by coach (for company taking Sir W. Warren with me), intending to have spoke to my Lord Arlington to have known the bottom of it, but missed him, and afterwards discoursing the thing as a confidant to Sir W. Warren, he did give me several good hints and principles not to do anything suddenly, but consult my pillow upon that and every great thing of my life, before I resolve anything in it. Away back home, and not being fit for business I took my wife and Mercer down by water to Greenwich at 8 at night, it being very fine and cool and moonshine afterward. Mighty pleasant passage it was; there eat a cake or two, and so home by 10 or 11 at night, and then to bed, my mind not settled what to think.
. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning. At noon dined at home, and to my office, very busy.
. Till past one, Lord’s day, in the morning writing letters to the fleet and elsewhere, and my mind eased of much business, home to bed and slept till 8. So up, and this day is brought home one of my new silk suits, the plain one, but very rich camlet and noble. I tried it and it pleases me, but did not wear it, being I would not go out today to church. So laid it by, and my mind changed, thinking to go see my Lady Sandwich, and I did go a little way, but stopped and returned home to dinner, after dinner up to my chamber to settle my Tangier accounts, and then to my office, there to do the like with other papers. In the evening home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and down to the ships, which now are hindered from going down to the fleet (to our great sorrow and shame) with their provisions, the wind being against them. So to the Duke of Albemarle, and thence down by water to Deptford, it being Trinity Monday, and so the day of choosing the Master of Trinity House for the next yeare, where, to my great content, I find that, contrary to the practice and design of Sir W. Batten, to breake the rule and custom of the Company in choosing their Masters by succession, he would have brought in Sir W. Rider or Sir W. Penn, over the head of Hurleston2503 (who is a knave too besides, I believe), the younger brothers did all oppose it against the elder, and with great heat did carry it for Hurleston, which I know will vex him to the heart. Thence, the election being over, to church, where an idle sermon from that conceited fellow, Dr. Britton, saving that his advice to unity, and laying aside all envy and enmity among them was very apposite. Thence walked to Redriffe, and so to the Trinity House, and a great dinner, as is usual, and so to my office, where busy all the afternoon till late, and then home to bed, being much troubled in mind for several things, first, for the condition of the fleet for lacke of provisions, the blame this office lies under and the shame that they deserve to have brought upon them for the ships not being gone out of the River, and then for my business of Tangier which is not settled, and lastly for fear that I am not observed to have attended the office business of late as much as I ought to do, though there has been nothing but my attendance on Tangier that has occasioned my absence, and that of late not much.
. Up, and at the office busy all the morning. At noon dined alone, my wife and mother being gone by invitation to dine with my mother’s old servant Mr. Cordery, who made them very welcome. So to Mr. Povy’s, where after a little discourse about his business I home again, and late at the office busy. Late comes Sir Arthur Ingram2504 to my office, to tell me that, by letters from Amsterdam of the 28th of this month (their style),2505 the Dutch fleet, being about 100 men-of-war, besides fire-ships, etc., did set out upon the 23rd and 24th inst. Being divided into seven squadrons,2506 viz., 1. General Opdam. 2. Cottenar, of Rotterdam. 3. Trump. 4. Schram, of Horne. 5. Stillingworth, of Freezland. 6. Everson. 7. One other, not named, of Zealand.
. Up, and by 4 o’clock in the morning, and with W. Hewer, there till 12 without intermission putting some papers in order. Thence to the Coffeehouse with Creed, where I have not been a great while, where all the news is of the Dutch being gone out, and of the plague growing upon us in this town; and of remedies against it: some saying one thing, some another. So home to dinner, and after dinner Creed and I to Colvill’s, thinking to show him all the respect we could by obliging him in carrying him 5 tallies of £5,000 to secure him for so much credit he has formerly given Povy to Tangier, but he, like an impertinent fool, cavills at it, but most ignorantly that ever I heard man in my life. At last Mr. Viner by chance comes, who I find a very moderate man, but could not persuade the fool to reason, but brought away the tallies again, and so vexed to my office, where late, and then home to my supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then to the office all the afternoon, busy till almost 12 at night, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up at 4 o’clock, and all the morning in my office with W. Hewer finishing my papers that were so long out of order, and at noon to my bookseller’s, and there bespoke a book or two, and so home to dinner, where Creed dined with me, and he and I afterwards to Alderman Backewell’s to try him about supplying us with money, which he denied at first and last also, saving that he spoke a little fairer at the end than before. But the truth is I do fear I shall have a great deal of trouble in getting of money. Thence home, and in the evening by water to the Duke of Albemarle, whom I found mightily off the hooks, that the ships are not gone out of the River; which vexed me to see, insomuch that I am afeard that we must expect some change or addition of new officers brought upon us, so that I must from this time forward resolve to make myself appear eminently serviceable in attending at my office duly and nowhere else, which makes me wish with all my heart that I had never anything to do with this business of Tangier. After a while at my office, home to supper vexed, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning; at noon dined at home, and then to my office again, where late, and so to bed, with my mind full of fears for the business of this office and troubled with that of Tangier, concerning which Mr. Povy was with me, but do give me little help, but more reason of being troubled. So that were it not for our Plymouth business I would be glad to be rid of it.
. By water to the Duke of Albemarle, where I hear that Nixon is condemned to be shot to death, for his cowardice, by a Council of War. Went to chapel and heard a little music, and there met with Creed, and with him a little while walking, and to Wilkinson’s for me to drink, being troubled with winde, and at noon to Sir Philip Warwicke’s to dinner, where abundance of company come in unexpectedly; and here I saw one pretty piece of household stuff, as the company increaseth, to put a larger leaf upon an oval table. After dinner much good discourse with Sir Philip, who I find, I think, a most pious, good man, and a professor of a philosophical manner of life and principles like Epictetus,2507 whom he cites in many things. Thence to my Lady Sandwich’s, where, to my shame, I had not been a great while before. Here, upon my telling her a story of my Lord Rochester’s2508 running away on Friday night last with Mrs. Mallett,2509 the great beauty and fortune of the North, who had supped at Whitehall with Mrs. Stewart, and was going home to her lodgings with her grandfather, my Lord Haly,2510 by coach; and was at Charing Cross seized on by both horse and foot men, and forcibly taken from him, and put into a coach with six horses, and two women provided to receive her, and carried away. Upon immediate pursuit, my Lord of Rochester (for whom the King had spoke to the lady often, but with no success) was taken at Uxbridge; but the lady is not yet heard of, and the King mighty angry, and the Lord sent to the Tower. Hereupon my Lady did confess to me, as a great secret, her being concerned in this story. For if this match breaks between my Lord Rochester and her, then, by the consent of all her friends, my Lord Hinchingbroke stands fair, and is invited for her. She is worth, and will be at her mother’s death (who keeps but a little from her), £2,500 per annum. Pray God give a good success to it! But my poor Lady, who is afeard of the sickness, and resolved to be gone into the country, is forced to stay in town a day or two, or three about it, to see the event of it. Thence home and to see my Lady Penn, where my wife and I were shown a fine rarity: of fishes kept in a glass of water, that will live so forever; and finely marked they are, being foreign.2511 So to supper at home and to bed, after many people being with me about business, among others the two Bellamys about their old debt due to them from the King for their victualling business, out of which I hope to get some money.
. Lay long in bed, being in some little pain of the wind colic, then up and to the Duke of Albemarle, and so to the Swan, and there drank at Herbert’s, and so by coach home, it being kept a great holiday through the City, for the birth and restoration of the King. To my office, where I stood by and saw Symson the joiner do several things, little jobbs, to the rendering of my closet handsome and the setting up of some neat plates that Burston has for my money made me, and so home to dinner, and then with my wife, mother, and Mercer in one boat, and I in another, down to Woolwich. I walking from Greenwich, the others going to and fro upon the water till my coming back, having done but little business. So home and to supper, and, weary, to bed. We have everywhere taken some prizes. Our merchants have good luck to come home safe: Colliers from the North, and some Streights men just now. And our Hambrough ships, of whom we were so much afeard, are safe in Hambrough. Our fleet resolved to sail out again from Harwich in a day or two.
. Lay long, and very busy all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and thence to dinner to Sir G. Carteret’s, to talk upon the business of insuring our goods upon the Hambrough [ships]. Here a very fine, neat French dinner, without much cost, we being all alone with my Lady and one of the house with her; thence home and wrote letters, and then in the evening, by coach, with my wife and mother and Mercer, our usual tour by coach, and eat at the old house at Islington; but, Lord! to see how my mother found herself talk upon every object to think of old stories. Here I met with one that tells me that Jack Cole, my old schoolefellow, is dead and buried lately of a consumption, who was a great crony of mine. So back again home, and there to my closet to write letters. Hear to my great trouble that our Hambrough ships,2512 valued of the King’s goods and the merchants’ (though but little of the former) to £200,000 [are lost]. By and by, about 11 at night, called into the garden by my Lady Penn and daughter, and there walked with them and my wife till almost twelve, and so in and closed my letters, and home to bed.
. Up, and to my office, and to Westminster, doing business till noon, and then to the ’Change, where great the noise and trouble of having our Hambrough ships lost; and that very much placed upon Mr. Coventry’s forgetting to give notice to them of the going away of our fleet from the coast of Holland. But all without reason, for he did; but the merchants not being ready, stayed longer than the time ordered for the convoy to stay, which was ten days. Thence home with Creed and Mr. Moore to dinner. Anon we broke up, and Creed and I to discourse about our Tangier matters of money, which vex me. So to Gresham College, stayed a very little while, and away and I home busy, and busy late, at the end of the month, about my month’s accounts, but by the addition of Tangier it is rendered more intricate, and so (which I have not done these 12 months, nor would willingly have done now) failed of having it done, but I will do it as soon as I can. So weary and sleepy to bed. I endeavoured but missed of seeing Sir Thomas Ingram at Westminster, so went to Houseman’s2513 the Painter, who I intend shall draw my wife, but he was not within, but I saw several very good pictures.
June 1665
. Up and to the office, where sat all the morning, at noon to the ’Change, and there did some business, and home to dinner, whither Creed comes, and after dinner I put on my new silke camlet suit; the best that ever I wore in my life, the suit costing me above £24. In this I went with Creed to Goldsmiths’ Hall, to the burial of Sir Thomas Viner;2514 which Hall, and Haberdashers also, was so full of people, that we were fain for ease and coolness to go forth to Pater Noster Row, to choose a silke to make me a plain ordinary suit. That done, we walked to Cornehill, and there at Mr. Cade’s2515 stood in the balcon and saw all the funeral, which was with the bluecoat boys and old men, all the Aldermen, and Lord Mayor, etc., and the number of the company very great; the greatest I ever did see for a tavern. Hither come up to us Dr. Allen, and then Mr. Povy and Mr. Fox. The show being over, and my discourse with Mr. Povy, I took coach and to Westminster Hall, where I took the fairest flower, and by coach to Tothill Fields for the air till it was dark. I ’light, and in with the fairest flower to eat a cake, and there did do as much as was safe with my flower, and that was enough on my part. Broke up, and away without any notice, and, after delivering the rose where it should be, I to the Temple and ’light, and come to the middle door, and there took another coach, and so home to write letters, but very few, God knows, being by my pleasure made to forget everything that is. The coachman that carried [us] cannot know me again, nor the people at the house where we were. Home to bed, certain news being come that our fleet is in sight of the Dutch ships.
. Lay troubled in mind abed a good while, thinking of my Tangier and victualling business, which I doubt will fall. Up and to the Duke of Albemarle, but missed him. Thence to the Harp and Ball and to Westminster Hall, where I visited “the flowers” in each place, and so met with Mr. Creed, and he and I to Mrs. Croft’s to drink and did, but saw not her daughter Borroughes. I away home, and there dined and did business. In the afternoon went with my tallies, made a fair end with Colvill and Viner, delivering them £5,000 tallies to each and very quietly had credit given me upon other tallies of Mr. Colvill for £2,000 and good words for more, and of Mr. Viner too. Thence to visit the Duke of Albemarle, and thence my Lady Sandwich and Lord Crew. Thence home, and there met an express from Sir W. Batten at Harwich, that the fleet is all sailed from Solebay, having spied the Dutch fleet at sea, and that, if the calmes hinder not, they must needs now be engaged with them. Another letter also come to me from Mr. Hater, committed by the Council this afternoon to the Gate House, upon the misfortune of having his name used by one, without his knowledge or privity, for the receiving of some powder that he had bought. Up to Court about these two, and for the former was led up to my Lady Castlemayne’s lodgings, where the King and she and others were at supper, and there I read the letter and returned; and then to Sir G. Carteret about Hater, and shall have him released tomorrow, upon my giving bail for his appearance, which I have promised to do. Sir G. Carteret did go on purpose to the King to ask this, and it was granted. So home at past 12, almost one o’clock in the morning. To my office till past two, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to Whitehall, where Sir G. Carteret did go with me to Secretary Morris, and prevailed with him to let Mr. Hater be released upon bail for his appearance. So I at a loss how to get another besides myself, and got Mr. Hunt, who did patiently stay with me all the morning at Secretary Morris’s chamber, Mr. Hater being sent for with his keeper, and at noon comes in the Secretary, and upon entering [into] recognizances, he for £200, and Mr. Hunt and I for £100 each for his appearance upon demand, he was released, it costing him, I think, above £3. I thence home, vexed to be kept from the office all the morning, which I had not been in many months before, if not some years. At home to dinner, and all the afternoon at the office, where late at night, and much business done, then home to supper and to bed. All this day by all people upon the River, and almost everywhere else hereabout were heard the guns, our two fleets for certain being engaged; which was confirmed by letters from Harwich, but nothing particular: and all our hearts full of concernment for the Duke, and I particularly for my Lord Sandwich and Mr. Coventry after his Royal Highness.
. Up and at my chamber all the forenoon, at evening my accounts, which I could not do sooner, for the last month, and, blessed be God! am worth £1,400 odd money, something more than ever I was yet in the world. Dined very well at noon, and then to my office, and there and in the garden discoursed with several people about business, among others Mr. Howell, the turner, who did give me so good a discourse about the practices of the Paymaster J. Fenn that I thought fit to recollect all when he was gone, and have entered it down to be forever remembered. Thence to my chamber again to settle my Tangier accounts against tomorrow and some other things, and with great joy ended them, and so to supper, where a good fowl and tansy, and so to bed. News being come that our fleet is pursuing the Dutch, who, either by cunning, or by being worsted, do give ground, but nothing more for certain. Late to bed upon my papers being quite finished.
. Up very betimes to look some other papers, and then to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where I offered my accounts with great acceptation, and so had some good words and honour by it, and one or two things done to my content in my business of Treasurer, but I do clearly see that we shall lose our business of victualling, Sir Thomas Ingram undertaking that it shall be done by persons there as cheap as we do it, and give the seamen their full allowance and themselves give good security here for performance of contract, upon which terms there is no opposing it. This would trouble me, but that I hope when that fails to spend my time to some good advantage other ways, and so shall permit it all to God Almighty’s pleasure. Thence home to dinner, after ’Change, where great talk of the Dutch being fled and we in pursuit of them, and that our ship Charity2516 is lost upon our Captain’s, Wilkinson, and Lieutenant’s yielding, but of this there is no certainty, save the report of some of the sicke men of the Charity, turned adrift in a boat out of the Charity and taken up and brought on shore yesterday to Sole Bay, and the news hereof brought by Sir Henry Felton.2517 Home to dinner, and Creed with me. Then he and I down to Deptford, did some business, and back again at night. He home, and I to my office, and so to supper and to bed. This morning I had great discourse with my Lord Barkeley about Mr. Hater, towards whom from a great passion reproaching him with being a fanatic and dangerous for me to keepe, I did bring him to be mighty calme and to ask me pardons for what he had thought of him and to desire me to ask his pardon of Hater himself for the ill words he did give him the other day alone at Whitehall (which was, that he had always thought him a man that was no good friend to the King, but did never think it would breake out in a thing of this nature), and did advise him to declare his innocence to the Council and pray for his examination and vindication. Of which I shall consider and say no more, but remember one compliment that in great kindness to me he did give me, extolling my care and diligence, that he did love me heartily for my own sake, and more that he did will me whatsoever I thought for Mr. Coventry’s sake, for though the world did think them enemies, and to have an ill aspect, one to another, yet he did love him with all his heart, which was a strange manner of noble compliment, confessing his owning me as a confidant and favourite of Mr. Coventry’s.
. Waked in the morning before 4 o’clock with great pain to piss, and great pain in pissing by having, I think, drank too great a draught of cold drink before going to bed. But by and by to sleep again, and then rose and to the office, where very busy all the morning, and at noon to dinner with Sir G. Carteret to his house with all our Board, where a good pasty and brave discourse. But our great fear was some fresh news of the fleet, but not from the fleet, all being said to be well and beaten the Dutch, but I do not give much belief to it, and indeed the news come from Sir W. Batten at Harwich, and writ so simply that we all made good mirth of it. Thence to the office, where upon Sir G. Carteret’s accounts, to my great vexation there being nothing done by the Controller to right the King therein. I thence to my office and wrote letters all the afternoon, and in the evening by coach to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s about my Tangier business to get money, and so to my Lady Sandwich’s, who, poor lady, expects every hour to hear of my Lord; but in the best temper, neither confident nor troubled with fear, that I ever did see in my life. She tells me my Lord Rochester is now declaredly out of hopes of Mrs. Mallett, and now she is to receive notice in a day or two how the King stands inclined to the giving leave for my Lord Hinchingbroke to look after her, and that being done to bring it to an end shortly. Thence by coach home, and to my office a little, and so before 12 o’clock home and to bed.
. This morning my wife and mother rose about two o’clock; and with Mercer, Mary, the boy, and W. Hewer, as they had designed, took boat and down to refresh themselves on the water to Gravesend. Lay till 7 o’clock, then up and to the office upon Sir G. Carteret’s accounts again, where very busy; thence abroad and to the ’Change, no news of certainty being yet come from the fleet. Thence to the Dolphin Tavern, where Sir J. Minnes, Lord Brunkard, Sir Thomas Harvy, and myself dined, upon Sir G. Carteret’s charge, and very merry we were, Sir Thomas Harvy being a very drolle. Thence to the office, and meeting Creed away with him to my Lord Treasurer’s, there thinking to have met the goldsmiths, at Whitehall, but did not, and so appointed another time for my Lord to speak to them to advance us some money. Thence, it being the hottest day that ever I felt in my life, and it is confessed so by all other people the hottest they ever knew in England in the beginning of June, we to the New Exchange, and there drunk whey, with much entreaty getting it for our money, and [they] would not be entreated to let us have one glasse more. So took water and to Fox-Hall,2518 to the Spring garden, and there walked an houre or two with great pleasure, saving our minds ill at ease concerning the fleet and my Lord Sandwich, that we have no news of them, and ill reports run up and down of his being killed, but without ground. Here stayed pleasantly walking and spending but 6d. till nine at night, and then by water to Whitehall, and there I stopped to hear news of the fleet, but none come, which is strange, and so by water home, where, weary with walking and with the mighty heat of the weather, and for my wife’s not coming home, I staying walking in the garden till twelve at night, when it begun to lighten exceedingly, through the greatness of the heat. Then despairing of her coming home, I to bed. This day, much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses marked with a red cross upon the doors, and “Lord have mercy upon us” writ there; which was a sad sight to me, being the first of the kind that, to my remembrance, I ever saw. It put me into an ill conception of myself and my smell, so that I was forced to buy some roll-tobacco to smell to and chaw, which took away the apprehension.
. About five o’clock my wife come home, it having lightened all night hard, and one great shower of rain. She come and lay upon the bed; I up and to the office, where all the morning. Alone at home to dinner, my wife, mother, and Mercer dining at W. Joyce’s; I giving her a caution to go round by the Half Moone to his house, because of the plague. I to my Lord Treasurer’s by appointment of Sir Thomas Ingram’s, to meet the Goldsmiths; where I met with the great news at last newly come, brought by Bab May2519 from the Duke of York, that we have totally routed the Dutch; that the Duke himself, the Prince, my Lord Sandwich, and Mr. Coventry are all well: which did put me into such joy, that I forgot almost all other thoughts. The particulars I shall set down by and by. By and by comes Alderman Maynell and Mr. Viner, and there my Lord Treasurer did intreat them to furnish me with money upon my tallies, Sir Philip Warwicke before my Lord declaring the King’s changing of the hand from Mr. Povy to me, whom he called a very sober person, and one whom the Lord Treasurer would own in all things that I should concern myself with them in the business of money. They did at present declare they could not part with money at present. My Lord did press them very hard, and I hope upon their considering we shall get some of them. Thence with great joy to the Cockpit; where the Duke of Albemarle, like a man out of himself with content, new-told me all; and by and by comes a letter from Mr. Coventry’s own hand to him, which he never opened (which was a strange thing), but did give it me to open and read, and consider what was fit for our office to do in it, and leave the letter with Sir W. Clerke;2520 which upon such a time and occasion was a strange piece of indifference, hardly pardonable. I copied out the letter, and did also take minutes out of Sir W. Clerke’s other letters; and the sum of the news is:
This day they engaged; the Dutch neglecting greatly the opportunity of the wind they had of us, by which they lost the benefit of their fire-ships. The Earl of Falmouth, Muskerry, and Mr. Richard Boyle2522 killed on board the Duke’s ship, the Royal Charles, with one shot: their blood and brains flying in the Duke’s face; and the head of Mr. Boyle striking down the Duke, as some say. Earl of Marlborough,2523 Portland, Rear-Admiral Sansum (to Prince Rupert) killed, and Capt. Kirby and Ableson. Sir John Lawson2524 wounded on the knee; hath had some bones taken out, and is likely to be well again. Upon receiving the hurt, he sent to the Duke for another to command the Royal Oak. The Duke sent Jordan2525 out of the St. George, who did brave things in her. Capt. Jer. Smith of the Mary was second to the Duke, and stepped between him and Captain Seaton of the Urania2526 (76 guns and 400 men), who had sworn to board the Duke; killed him, 200 men, and took the ship; himself losing 99 men, and never an officer saved but himself and lieutenant. His master indeed is saved, with his leg cut off. Admiral Opdam blown up, Trump killed, and said by Holmes; all the rest of their admiralls, as they say, but Everson (whom they dare not trust for his affection to the Prince of Orange), are killed: we having taken and sunk, as is believed, about 24 of their best ships; killed and taken near 8 or 10,000 men, and lost, we think, not above 700. A great[er] victory never known in the world. They are all fled, some 43 got into the Texell, and others elsewhere, and we in pursuit of the rest. Thence, with my heart full of joy; home, and to my office a little; then to my Lady Penn’s, where they are all joyed and not a little puffed up at the good success of their father;2527 and good service indeed is said to have been done by him. Had a great bonfire at the gate; and I with my Lady Penn’s people and others to Mrs. Turner’s great room, and then down into the street. I did give the boys 4s. among them, and mighty merry. So home to bed, with my heart at great rest and quiet, saving that the consideration of the victory2528 is too great for me presently to comprehend.
. Lay long in bed, my head aching with too much thoughts I think last night. Up and to Whitehall, and my Lord Treasurer’s to Sir Ph. Warwicke, about Tangier business, and in my way met with Mr. Moore, who eases me in one point wherein I was troubled; which was, that I heard of nothing said or done by my Lord Sandwich: but he tells me that Mr. Cowling,2529 my Lord Chamberlain’s secretary, did hear the King say that my Lord Sandwich had done nobly and worthily. The King, it seems, is much troubled at the fall of my Lord of Falmouth;2530 but I do not meet with any man else that so much as wishes him alive again, the world conceiving him a man of too much pleasure to do the King any good, or offer any good office to him. But I hear of all hands he is confessed to have been a man of great honour, that did show it in this his going with the Duke, the most that ever any man did. Home, where my people busy to make ready a supper against night for some guests, in lieu of my stone-feast.2531 At noon eat a small dinner at home, and so abroad to buy several things, and among others with my tailor to buy a silke suit, which though I had one lately, yet I do, for joy of the good news we have lately had of our victory over the Dutch, which makes me willing to spare myself something extraordinary in clothes; and after long resolution of having nothing but black, I did buy a coloured silk ferrandin.2532 So to the Old Exchange, and there at my pretty seamstresses bought a pair of stockings of her husband, and so home, where by and by comes Mr. Honiwood and Mrs. Wilde, and Roger Pepys and, after long time spent, Mrs. Turner, The. and Joyce. We had a very good venison pasty, this being instead of my stone-feast the last March, and very merry we were, and the more I know the more I like Mr. Honiwood’s conversation. So after a good supper they parted, walking to the ’Change for a coach, and I with them to see them there. So home and to bed, glad it was over.
. Lay long in bed, and then up and at the office all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then to the office busy all the afternoon. In the evening home to supper; and there, to my great trouble, hear that the plague is come into the City (though it hath these three or four weeks since its beginning been wholly out of the City); but where should it begin but in my good friend and neighbour’s, Dr. Burnett, in Fenchurch Street: which in both points troubles me mightily. To the office to finish my letters and then home to bed, being troubled at the sickness, and my head filled also with other business enough, and particularly how to put my things and estate in order, in case it should please God to call me away, which God dispose of to his glory!
. Up, and expected long a new suit; but, coming not, dressed myself in my late new black silke camlet suit; and, when fully ready, comes my new one of coloured ferrandin, which my wife puts me out of love with, which vexes me, but I think it is only my not being used to wear colours which makes it look a little unusual upon me. To my chamber and there spent the morning reading. At noon, by invitation, comes my two cousin Joyces and their wives, my aunt James and he-cousin Harman,2533 his wife being ill. I had a good dinner for them, and as merry as I could be in such company. They being gone, I out of doors a little, to show, forsooth, my new suit, and back again, and in going I saw poor Dr. Burnett’s door shut; but he hath, I hear, gained great goodwill among his neighbours; for he discovered it himself first, and caused himself to be shut up of his own accord: which was very handsome. In the evening comes Mr. Andrews and his wife and Mr. Hill, and stayed and played, and sung and supped, most excellent pretty company, so pleasant, ingenious, and harmless, I cannot desire better. They gone we to bed, my mind in great present ease.
. Up, and in my yesterday’s new suit to the Duke of Albemarle, and after a turne in Whitehall, and then in Westminster Hall, returned, and with my tailor bought some gold lace for my sleeve hands in Pater Noster Row. So home to dinner, and then to the office, and down the River to Deptford, and then back again and to my Lord Treasurer’s, and up and down to look after my Tangier business, and so home to my office, then to supper and to bed. The Duke of York is sent for last night and expected to be here tomorrow.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning doing business. At noon with Sir G. Carteret to my Lord Mayor’s to dinner, where much company in a little room, and though a good, yet no extraordinary table. His name, Sir John Lawrence, whose father, a very ordinary old man, sat there at table, but it seems a very rich man. Here were at table three Sir Richard Brownes,2534 viz.: he of the Councill, a clerk, and the Alderman, and his son; and there was a little grandson also Richard, who will hereafter be Sir Richard Browne. The Alderman did here openly tell in boasting how he had, only upon suspicion of disturbances, if there had been any bad news from sea, clapped up several persons that he was afeard of; and that he had several times done the like and would do, and take no bail where he saw it unsafe for the King. But by and by he said that he was now sued in the Exchequer by a man for false imprisonment, that he had, upon the same score, imprisoned while he was Mayor four years ago, and asked advice upon it. I told him I believed there was none, and told my story of Field, at which he was troubled, and said that it was then unsafe for any man to serve the King, and, I believed, knows not what to do therein; but that Sir Richard Browne, of the Councill, advised him to speak with my Lord Chancellor about it. My Lord Mayor very respectful to me; and so I after dinner away and found Sir J. Minnes ready with his coach and four horses at our office gate, for him and me to go out of town to meet the Duke of York coming from Harwich tonight, and so as far as Ilford, and there ’light. By and by comes to us Sir John Shaw and Mr. Neale,2535 that married the rich widow Gold, upon the same errand. After eating a dish of creame, we took coach again, hearing nothing of the Duke, and away home, a most pleasant evening and road. And so to my office, where, after my letters wrote, to supper and to bed. All our discourse in our way was Sir J. Minnes’s telling me passages of the late King’s and his father’s, which I was mightily pleased to hear for information, though the pride of some persons and vice of most was but a sad story to tell how that brought the whole kingdom and King to ruin.
. Up, and to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s and other places, about Tangier business, but to little purpose. Among others to my Lord Treasurer’s, there to speak with him, and waited in the lobby three long hours for to speake with him, to the trial of my utmost patience, but missed him at last, and forced to go home without it, which may teach me how I make others wait. Home to dinner and stayed Mr. Hater with me, and after dinner drew up a petition for Mr. Hater to present to the Councill about his troublesome business of powder,2536 desiring a trial that his absence may be vindicated, and so to Whitehall, but it was not proper to present it today. Here I met with Mr. Cowling, who observed to me how he finds everybody silent in the praise of my Lord Sandwich, to set up the Duke and the Prince; but that the Duke did both to the King and my Lord Chancellor write abundantly of my Lord’s courage and service.2537 And I this day met with a letter of Captain Ferrers, wherein he tells [us] my Lord was with his ship in all the heat of the day, and did most worthily. Met with Creed, and he and I to Westminster; and there saw my Lord Marlborough2538 brought to be buried, several Lords of the Council carrying him, and with the herald in some state. Thence, vexed in my mind to think that I do so little in my Tangier business, and so home, and after supper to bed.
. Up, and put on my new stuff suit with close knees, which becomes me most nobly, as my wife says. At the office all day. At noon, put on my first laced band, all lace; and to Kate Joyce’s to dinner, where my mother, wife, and abundance of their friends, and good usage. Thence, wife and Mercer and I to the Old Exchange, and there bought two lace bands more, one of my seamstress, whom my wife concurs with me to be a pretty woman. So down to Deptford and Woolwich, my boy and I. At Woolwich, discoursed with Mr. Sheldon2539 about my bringing my wife down for a month or two to his house, which he approves of, and, I think, will be very convenient. So late back, and to the office, wrote letters, and so home to supper and to bed. This day the News book upon Mr. Moore’s showing L’Estrange2540 (Captain Ferrers’s letter) did do my Lord Sandwich great right as to the late victory. The Duke of York not yet come to town. The town grows very sickly, and people to be afeard of it; there dying this last week of the plague 112,2541 from 43 the week before, whereof but [one] in Fenchurch Street, and one in Broad Street, by the Treasurer’s office.
. Up and to the office, where I set hard to business, but was informed that the Duke of York is come, and hath appointed us to attend him this afternoon. So after dinner, and doing some business at the office, I to Whitehall, where the Court is full of the Duke and his courtiers returned from sea. All fat and lusty, and ruddy by being in the sun. I kissed his hands, and we waited all the afternoon. By and by saw Mr. Coventry, which rejoiced my very heart. Anon he and I, from all the rest of the company, walked into the Matted Gallery; where after many expressions of love, we fell to talk of business. Among other things, how my Lord Sandwich, both in his counsells and personal service, hath done most honourably and serviceably. Sir J. Lawson is come to Greenwich; but his wound in his knee yet very bad. Jonas Poole, in the Vantguard, did basely, so as to be, or will be, turned out of his ship. Captain Holmes2542 expecting upon Sansum’s death to be made Rear-admiral to the Prince (but Harman2543 is put in) hath delivered up to the Duke his commission, which the Duke took and tore. He, it seems, had bid the Prince, who first told him of Holmes’s intention, that he should dissuade him from it; for that he was resolved to take it if he offered it. Yet Holmes would do it, like a rash, proud coxcombe. But he is rich, and hath, it seems, sought an occasion of leaving the service. Several of our captains have done ill. The great ships are the ships do the business, they quite deadening the enemy. They run away upon sight of The Prince.2544 It is strange to see how people do already slight Sir William Barkeley,2545 my Lord FitzHarding’s brother, who, three months since, was the delight of the Court. Captain Smith2546 of The Mary the Duke talks mightily of; and some great thing will be done for him. Strange to hear how the Dutch do relate, as the Duke says, that they are the conquerors; and bonfires are made in Dunkirke in their behalf; though a clearer victory can never be expected. Mr. Coventry thinks they cannot have lost less than 6,000 men, and we not dead above 200, and wounded about 400; in all about 600. Thence home and to my office till past twelve, and then home to supper and to bed, my wife and mother not being yet come home from W. Hewer’s chamber, who treats my mother tonight. Captain Grove,2547 the Duke told us this day, hath done the basest thing at Lowestoffe, in hearing of the guns, and could not (as others) be got out, but stayed there; for which he will be tried; and is reckoned a prating coxcombe, and of no courage.
. My wife come to bed about one in the morning. I up and abroad about Tangier business, then back to the office, where we sat, and at noon home to dinner, and then abroad to Mr. Povy’s, after I and Mr. Andrews had been with Mr. Ball and one Major Strange, who looks after the getting of money for tallies and is helping Mr. Andrews. I had much discourse with Ball, and it may be he may prove a necessary man for our turns. With Mr. Povy I spoke very freely my indifference as to my place of Treasurer, being so much troubled in it, which he took with much seeming trouble, that I should think of letting go so lightly the place, but if the place can’t be held I will. So hearing that my Lord Treasurer2548 was gone out of town with his family because of the sickness, I returned home without staying there, and at the office find Sir W. Penn come home, who looks very well; and I am gladder to see him than otherwise I should be because of my hearing so well of him for his serviceableness in this late great action. To the office late, and then home to bed. It struck me very deep this afternoon going with a hackney coach from my Lord Treasurer’s down Holborne, the coachman I found to drive easily and easily, at last stood still, and come down hardly able to stand, and told me that he was suddenly struck very sicke, and almost blind, he could not see; so I ’light and went into another coach, with a sad heart for the poor man and trouble for myself, lest he should have been struck with the plague, being at the end of the town that I took him up; but God have mercy upon us all! Sir John Lawson, I hear, is worse than yesterday: the King went to see him today most kindly. It seems his wound is not very bad; but he hath a fever, a thrush, and a hickup, all three together, which are, it seems, very bad symptoms.
. Up, and to church, where Sir W. Penn was the first time [since he] come from sea, after the battle. Mr. Mills made a sorry sermon to prove that there was a world to come after this. Home and dined and then to my chamber, where all the afternoon. Anon comes Mr. Andrews to see and sing with me, but Mr. Hill not coming, and having business, we soon parted, there coming Mr. Povy and Creed to discourse about our Tangier business of money. They gone, I hear Sir W. Batten and my Lady are returned from Harwich. I went to see them, and it is pretty to see how we appear kind one to another, though neither of us care 2d. one for another. Home to supper, and there coming a hasty letter from Commissioner Pett for pressing of some caulkers (as I would ever on his Majesty’s service), with all speed, I made a warrant presently and issued it. So to my office a little, and then home to bed.
. Up, and to Whitehall with Sir W. Batten (calling at my Lord Ashly’s, but to no purpose, by the way, he being not up), and there had our usual meeting before the Duke with the officers of the Ordnance with us, which in some respects I think will be the better for us, for despatch sake. Thence home to the ’Change and dined alone (my wife gone to her mother’s), after dinner to my little new goldsmith’s,2549 whose wife indeed is one of the prettiest, modest black women that ever I saw. I paid for a dozen of silver salts £6 14s. 6d. Thence with Sir W. Penn from the office down to Greenwich to see Sir J. Lawson, who is better, but continues ill; his hickupp not being yet gone, could have little discourse with him. So thence home and to supper, a while to the office, my head and mind mightily vexed to see the multitude of papers and business before [me] and so little time to do it in. So to bed.
. Thankes-giving-day for victory over ye Dutch. Up, and to the office, where very busy alone all the morning till church time, and there heard a mean sorry sermon of Mr. Mills. Then to the Dolphin Tavern, where all we officers of the Navy met with the Commissioners of the Ordnance by agreement, and dined: where good music at my direction. Our club2550 come to 34s. a man, nine of us. Thence after dinner, to Whitehall with Sir W. Berkely in his coach, and so walked to Herbert’s and there spent a little time. … Thence by water to Fox-hall, and there walked an hour alone, observing the several humours of the citizens that were there this holyday, pulling of cherries2551 and God knows what, and so home to my office, where late, my wife not being come home with my mother, who have been this day all abroad upon the water, my mother being to go out of town speedily. So I home and to supper and to bed, my wife come home when I come from the office. This day I informed myself that there died four or five at Westminster of the plague in one alley in several houses upon Sunday last, Bell Alley, over against the Palace-gate; yet people do think that the number will be fewer in the town than it was the last weeke.2552 The Dutch are come out again with 20 sail under Bankert;2553 supposed gone to the Northward to meete their East India fleet.
. Up, and very busy all the morning. At noon with Creed to the Excise Office, where I find our tallies will not be money in less than sixteen months, which is a sad thing for the King to pay all that interest for every penny he spends; and, which is strange, the goldsmiths with whom I spoke, do declare that they will not be moved to part with money upon the increase of their consideration of ten percent which they have, and therefore desire I would not move in it, and indeed the consequence would be very ill to the King, and have its ill consequences follow us through all the King’s revenue. Home, and my uncle Wight and aunt James dined with me, my mother being to go away tomorrow. So to Whitehall, and there before and after Council discoursed with Sir Thomas Ingram about our ill case as to Tangier for money. He hath got the King to appoint a meeting on Friday, which I hope will put an end one way or other to my pain. So homewards and to the Cross Keys at Cripplegate, where I find all the town almost going out of town, the coaches and wagons being all full of people going into the country. Here I had some of the company of the tapster’s wife a while, and so home to my office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up pretty betimes, and in great pain whether to send my mother into the country today or no, I hearing, by my people, that she, poor wretch, hath a mind to stay a little longer, and I cannot blame her, considering what a life she will through her own folly lead when she comes home again, unlike the pleasure and liberty she hath had here. At last I resolved to put it to her, and she agreed to go, so I would not oppose it, because of the sickness in the town, and my intentions of removing my wife. So I did give her money and took a kind leave of her, she, poor wretch, desiring that I would forgive my brother John, but I refused it to her, which troubled her, poor soul, but I did it in kind words and so let the discourse go off, she leaving me though in a great deal of sorrow. So I to my office and left my wife and people to see her out of town, and I at the office all the morning. At noon my wife tells me that she is with much ado gone, and I pray God bless her, but it seems she was to the last unwilling to go, but would not say so, but put it off till she lost her place in the coach, and was fain to ride in the wagon part. After dinner to the office again till night, very busy, and so home not very late to supper and to bed.
. Up and to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier, where his Royal Highness was. Our great design was to state to them the true condition of this Committee for want of money, the want whereof was so great as to need some sudden help, and it was with some content resolved to see it supplied and means proposed towards the doing of it. At this Committee, unknown to me, comes my Lord of Sandwich, who, it seems, come to town last night. After the Committee was up, my Lord Sandwich did take me aside, and we walked an hour alone together in the robe-chamber, the door shut, telling me how much the Duke and Mr. Coventry did, both in the fleet and here, make of him, and that in some opposition to the Prince; and as a more private message, he told me that he hath been with them both when they have made sport of the Prince and laughed at him: yet that all the discourse of the town, and the printed relation, should not give him one word of honour my Lord thinks mighty strange; he assuring me, that though by accident the Prince was in the van the beginning of the fight for the first pass, yet all the rest of the day my Lord was in the van, and continued so. That notwithstanding all this noise of the Prince, he had hardly a shot in his side nor a man killed, whereas he hath above 30 in her hull, and not one mast whole nor yard; but the most battered ship of the fleet, and lost most men, saving Captain Smith of The Mary. That the most the Duke did was almost out of gunshot; but that, indeed, the Duke did come up to my Lord’s rescue after he had a great while fought with four of them. How poorly Sir John Lawson performed, notwithstanding all that was said of him; and how his ship turned out of the way, while Sir J. Lawson himself was upon the deck, to the endangering of the whole fleet. It therefore troubles my Lord that Mr. Coventry should not mention a word of him in his relation. I did, in answer, offer that I was sure the relation was not compiled by Mr. Coventry, but by L’Estrange, out of several letters, as I could witness; and that Mr. Coventry’s letter2554 that he did give the Duke of Albemarle did give him as much right as the Prince, for I myself read it first and then copied it out, which I promised to show my Lord, with which he was somewhat satisfied. From that discourse my Lord did begin to tell me how much he was concerned to dispose of his children, and would have my advice and help; and propounded to match my Lady Jemimah to Sir G. Carteret’s2555 eldest son, which I approved of, and did undertake the speaking with him about it as from myself, which my Lord liked. So parted, with my head full of care about this business. Thence home to the ’Change, and so to dinner, and thence by coach to Mr. Povy’s. Thence by appointment with him and Creed to one Mr. Finch,2556 one of the Commissioners for the Excise, to be informed about some things of the Excise, in order to our settling matters therein better for us for our Tangier business. I find him a very discreet, grave person. Thence well satisfied I and Creed to Mr. Fox at Whitehall to speak with him about the same matter, and having some pretty satisfaction from him also, he and I took boat and to Fox Hall, where we spent two or three hours talking of several matters very soberly and contentfully to me, which, with the air and pleasure of the garden, was a great refreshment to me, and, methinks, that which we ought to joy ourselves in. Thence back to Whitehall, where we parted, and I to find my Lord to receive his farther direction about his proposal this morning. Wherein I did that I should first by another hand break my intentions to Sir G. Carteret. I pitched upon Dr. Clerke, which my Lord liked, and so I endeavoured but in vain to find him out tonight. So home by hackney-coach, which is become a very dangerous passage nowadays, the sickness increasing mightily, and to bed.
. Up very betimes, by six, and at Dr. Clerke’s at Westminster by 7 of the clock, having over night by a note acquainted him with my intention of coming, and there I, in the best manner I could, broke my errand about a match between Sir G. Carteret’s eldest son and my Lord Sandwich’s eldest daughter, which he (as I knew he would) took with great content: and we both agreed that my Lord and he, being both men relating to the sea, under a kind aspect of His Majesty, already good friends, and both virtuous and good families, their alliance might be of good use to us; and he did undertake to find out Sir George this morning, and put the business in execution. So being both well pleased with the proposition, I saw his niece there and made her sing me two or three songs very prettily, and so home to the office, where to my great trouble I found Mr. Coventry and the board met before I come. I excused my late coming by having been on the River about office business. So to business all the morning. At noon Captain Ferrers and Mr. Moore dined with me, the former of them the first time I saw him since his coming from sea, who do give me the best conversation in general, and as good an account of the particular service of the Prince and my Lord of Sandwich in the late sea-fight that I could desire. After dinner they parted. So I to Whitehall, where I with Creed and Povy attended my Lord Treasurer, and did prevail with him to let us have an assignment for 15 or £20,000, which, I hope, will do our business for Tangier. So to Dr. Clerke, and there found that he had broke the business to Sir G. Carteret, and that he takes the thing mighty well. Thence I to Sir G. Carteret at his chamber, and in the best manner I could, and most obligingly, moved the business: he received it with great respect and content, and thanks to me, and promised that he would do what he could possibly for his son, to render him fit for my Lord’s daughter, and showed great kindness to me, and sense of my kindness to him herein. Sir William Penn told me this day that Mr. Coventry2557 is to be sworn a Privy Counsellor, at which my soul is glad. So home and to my letters by the post, and so home to supper and bed.
. Up, and several people about business come to me by appointment relating to the office. Thence I to my closet about my Tangier papers. At noon dined, and then I abroad by water, it raining hard, thinking to have gone down to Woolwich, but I did not, but back through bridge to Whitehall, where, after I had again visited Sir G. Carteret, and received his (and now his Lady’s) full content in my proposal, I went to my Lord Sandwich, and having told him how Sir G. Carteret received it, he did direct me to return to Sir G. Carteret, and give him thanks for his kind reception of this offer, and that he would the next day be willing to enter discourse with him about the business. Which message I did presently do, and so left the business with great joy to both sides. My Lord, I perceive, intends to give £5,000 with her, and expects about £800 per annum jointure. So by water home and to supper and bed, being weary with long walking at Court, but had a Psalm or two with my boy and Mercer before bed, which pleased me mightily. This night Sir G. Carteret told me with great kindness that the order of the Council did run for the making of Hater and Whitfield incapable of any serving the King again, but that he had stopped the entry of it, which he told me with great kindness, but the thing troubles me. After dinner, before I went to Whitehall, I went down to Greenwich by water, thinking to have visited Sir J. Lawson,2558 where, when I come, I find that he is dead, and died this morning, at which I was much surprised; and indeed the nation hath a great loss; though I cannot, without dissembling, say that I am sorry for it, for he was a man never kind to me at all. Being at Whitehall, I visited Mr. Coventry, who, among other talk, entered about the great question now in the House about the Duke’s going to sea again; about which the whole House is divided. He did concur with me that, for the Duke’s honour and safety, it were best, after so great a service and victory and danger, not to go again; and, above all, that the life of the Duke cannot but be a security to the Crown; if he were away, it being more easy to attempt anything upon the King; but how the fleet will be governed without him, the Prince2559 being a man of no government and severe in council, that no ordinary man can offer any advice against his; saying truly that it had been better he had gone to Guinea, and that were he away, it were easy to say how matters might be ordered, my Lord Sandwich being a man of temper and judgment as much as any man he ever knew, and that upon good observation he said this, and that his temper must correct the Prince’s. But I perceive he is much troubled what will be the event of the question. And so I left him.
. Up and to Whitehall with Sir J. Minnes, and to the Committee of Tangier, where my Lord Treasurer was, the first and only time he ever was there, and did promise us £15,000 for Tangier and no more, which will be short. But if I can pay Mr. Andrews all his money I care for no more, and the bills of Exchange. Thence with Mr. Povy and Creed below to a new chamber of Mr. Povy’s, very pretty, and there discourse about his business, not to his content, but with the most advantage I could to him, and Creed also did the like. Thence with Creed to the King’s Head,2560 and there dined with him at the ordinary, and good sport with one Mr. Nicholls, a prating coxcombe, that would be thought a poet, but would not be got to repeat any of his verses. Thence I home, and there find my wife’s brother2561 and his wife, a pretty little modest woman, where they dined with my wife. He did come to desire my assistance for a living, and, upon his good promises of care, and that it should be no burden to me, I did say and promise I would think of finding something for him, and the rather because his wife seems a pretty discreet young thing, and humble, and he, above all things, desirous to do something to maintain her, telling me sad stories of what she endured with him in Holland, and I hope it will not be burdensome. So down by water to Woolwich, walking to and again from Greenwich thither and back again, my business being to speak again with Sheldon, who desires and expects my wife coming thither to spend the summer, and upon second thoughts I do agree that it will be a good place for her and me too. So, weary, home, and to my office a while, till almost midnight, and so to bed. The plague increases mightily, I this day seeing a house, at a bit-maker’s over against St. Clement’s Church, in the open street, shut up; which is a sad sight.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined by chance at my Lady Batten’s, and they sent for my wife, and there was my Lady Penn and Pegg. Very merry, and so I to my office again, where till 12 o’clock at night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Sir J. Minnes carried me and my wife to Whitehall, and thence his coach along with my wife where she would. There after attending the Duke to discourse of the navy. We did not kiss his hand, nor do I think, for all their pretence, of going away tomorrow. Yet I believe they will not go for good and all, but I did take my leave of Sir William Coventry, who, it seems, was knighted and sworn a Privy-Counsellor two days since; who with his old kindness treated me, and I believe I shall ever find [him] a noble friend. Thence by water to Blackfriars, and so to Paul’s churchyard and bespoke severall books, and so home and there dined, my man William giving me a lobster sent him by my old maid Sarah. This morning I met with Sir G. Carteret, who tells me how all things proceed between my Lord Sandwich and himself to full content, and both sides depend upon having the match finished presently, and professed great kindness to me, and said that now we were something akin. I am mightily, both with respect to myself and much more of my Lord’s family, glad of this alliance. After dinner to Whitehall, thinking to speak with my Lord Ashly, but failed, and I whiled away some time in Westminster Hall against he did come, in my way observing several plague houses in King’s Street and [near] the Palace. Here I hear Mrs. Martin is gone out of town, and that her husband, an idle fellow, is since come out of France, as he pretends, but I believe not that he hath been. I was fearful of going to any house, but I did to the Swan, and thence to Whitehall, giving the waterman a shilling, because a young fellow and belonging to the Plymouth. Thence by coach to several places, and so home, and all the evening with Sir J. Minnes and all the women of the house (excepting my Lady Batten) late in the garden chatting. At 12 o’clock home to supper and to bed. My Lord Sandwich is gone towards the sea today, it being a sudden resolution, I having taken no leave of him.
. Up and by water to Whitehall, where the Court full of wagons and people ready to go out of town. To the Harp and Ball, and there drank and talked with Mary, she telling me in discourse that she lived lately at my neighbour’s, Mr. Knightly, which made me forbear further discourse. This end of the town every day grows very bad of the plague. The Mortality Bill is come to 267;2562 which is about ninety more than the last: and of these but four in the City, which is a great blessing to us. Thence to Creed, and with him up and down about Tangier business, to no purpose. Took leave again of Mr. Coventry; though I hope the Duke has not gone to stay, and so do others too. So home, calling at Somersett House, where all are packing up too: the Queen-Mother setting out for France this day to drink Bourbon waters this year, she being in a consumption; and intends not to come till winter come twelvemonths.2563 So by coach home, where at the office all the morning, and at noon Mrs. Hunt dined with us. Very merry, and she a very good woman. To the office, where busy a while putting some things in my office in order, and then to letters till night. About 10 a’clock home, the days being sensibly shorter before I have once kept a summer’s day by shutting up office by daylight; but my life hath been still as it was in winter almost. But I will for a month try what I can do by daylight. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to Whitehall, to the Duke of Albemarle, who I find at Secretary Bennet’s, there being now no other great Statesman, I think, but my Lord Chancellor, in town. I received several commands from them; among others, to provide some bread and cheese for the garrison at Guernsey, which they promised to see me paid for. So to the ’Change, and home to dinner. In the afternoon I down to Woolwich and after me my wife and Mercer, whom I led to Mr. Sheldon’s to see his house, and I find it a very pretty place for them to be at. So I back again, walking both forward and backward, and left my wife to come by water. I straight to Whitehall, late, to Secretary Bennet’s to give him an account of the business I received from him today, and there stayed weary and sleepy till past 12 at night. Then writ my mind to him, and so back by water and in the dark and against tide shot the bridge,2564 groping with their pole for the way, which troubled me before I got through. So home, about one or two o’clock in the morning, my family at a great losse what was become of me. To supper, and to bed. Thus this book of two years ends. Myself and family in good health, consisting of myself and wife, Mercer, her woman, Mary, Alice, and Susan our maids, and Tom my boy. In a sickly time of the plague growing on. Having upon my hands the troublesome care of the Treasury of Tangier, with great sums drawn upon me, and nothing to pay them with: also the business of the office great. Consideration of removing my wife to Woolwich; she lately busy in learning to paint, with great pleasure and success. All other things well; especially a new interest I am making, by a match in hand between the eldest son of Sir G. Carteret, and my Lady Jemimah Montagu. The Duke of York gone down to the fleet, but all suppose not with intent to stay there, as it is not fit, all men conceive, he should.
July 1665
. Called up betimes, though weary and sleepy, by appointment by Mr. Povy and Colonel Norwood to discourse about some payments of Tangier. They gone, I to the office and there sat all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then to the Duke of Albemarle’s, by appointment, to give him an account of some disorder in the Yarde at Portsmouth, by workmen’s going away of their own accord, for lacke of money, to get work of haymaking, or anything else to earne themselves bread.2565 Thence to Westminster, where I hear the sickness increases greatly, and to the Harp and Ball with Mary talking, who tells me simply her losing of her first love in the country in Wales, and coming up hither unknown to her friends, and it seems Dr. Williams do pretend love to her, and I have found him there several times. Thence by coach and late at the office, and so to bed. Sad at the news that seven or eight houses in Bazing Hall street, are shut up of the plague.
. Up, and all the morning dressing my closet at the office with my plates, very neatly, and a fine place now it is, and will be a pleasure to sit in, though I thank God I needed none before. At noon dined at home, and after dinner to my accounts and cast them up, and find that though I have spent above £90 this month yet I have saved £17, and am worth in all above £1,450, for which the Lord be praised! In the evening my Lady Penn and daughter come to see, and supped with us, then a messenger about business of the office from Sir G. Carteret at Chatham, and by word of mouth did send me word that the business between my Lord and him is fully agreed on,2566 and is mightily liked of by the King and the Duke of York, and that he sent me this word with great joy; they gone, we to bed. I hear this night that Sir J. Lawson2567 was buried late last night at St. Dunstan’s by us, without any company at all, and that the condition of his family is but very poor, which I could be contented to be sorry for, though he never was the man that ever obliged me by word or deed.
. Up and by water with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall to the Duke of Albemarle, where, after a little business, we parted, and I to the Harp and Ball, and there stayed a while talking to Mary, and so home to dinner. After dinner to the Duke of Albemarle’s again, and so to the Swan, and there demeurais un peu de temps con la fille, and so to the Harp and Ball, and alone demeurais un peu de temps baisant la, and so away home and late at the office about letters, and so home, resolving from this night forwards to close all my letters, if possible, and end all my business at the office by daylight, and I shall go near to do it and put all my affairs in the world in good order, the season growing so sickly, that it is much to be feared how a man can escape having a share with others in it, for which the good Lord God bless me, or to be fitted to receive it. So after supper to bed, and mightily troubled in my sleep all night with dreams of Jacke Cole, my old schoolfellow, lately dead, who was born at the same time with me, and we reckoned our fortunes pretty equal. God fit me for his condition!
. Up, and sat at the office all the morning. At noon to the ’Change and thence to the Dolphin, where a good dinner at the cost of one Mr. Osbaston,2568 who lost a wager to Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Rider, and Sir R. Ford, a good while since and now it is spent. The wager was that ten of our ships should not have a fight with ten of the enemy’s before Michaelmas. Here was other very good company, and merry, and at last in come Mr. Buckeworth,2569 a very fine gentleman, and proves to be a Huntingdonshire man. Thence to my office and there all the afternoon till night, and so home to settle some accounts of Tangier and other papers. I hear this day the Duke and Prince Rupert are both come back from sea, and neither of them go back again. The latter I much wonder at, but it seems the town reports so, and I am very glad of it. This morning I did a good piece of work with Sir W. Warren, ending the business of the lotteries, wherein honestly I think I shall get above £100. Bankert,2570 it seems, is come home with the little fleet he hath been abroad with, without doing anything, so that there is nobody of an enemy at sea. We are in great hopes of meeting with the Dutch East India fleet, which is mighty rich, or with De Ruyter, who is so also. Sir Richard Ford told me this day, at table, a fine account, how the Dutch were like to have been mastered by the present Prince of Orange2571 his father to be besieged in Amsterdam, having drawn an army of foot into the town, and horse near to the town by night, within three miles of the town, and they never knew of it; but by chance the Hamburg post in the night fell among the horse, and heard their design, and knowing the way, it being very dark and rainy, better than they, went from them, and did give notice to the town before the others could reach the town, and so were saved. It seems this De Witt and another family, the Beckarts, were among the chief of the families that were enemies to the Prince, and were afterwards suppressed by the Prince, and continued so till he was, as they say, poisoned; and then they turned all again, as it was, against the young Prince, and have so carried it to this day, it being about 12 and 14 years, and De Witt in the head of them.
. Up, and advised about sending of my wife’s bedding and things to Woolwich, in order to her removal thither. So to the office, where all the morning till noon, and so to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner. In the afternoon I abroad to St. James’s, and there with Mr. Coventry a good while, and understand how matters are ordered in the fleet: that is, my Lord Sandwich goes Admiral; under him Sir G. Ascue, and Sir T. Teddiman; Vice-Admiral, Sir W. Penn; and under him Sir W. Barkeley, and Sir Jos. Jordan: Reere-Admiral, Sir Thomas Allen; and under him Sir Christopher Mings,2572 and Captain Harman. We talked in general of business of the Navy, among others how he had lately spoken to Sir G. Carteret, and professed great resolution of friendship with him and reconciliation, and resolves to make it good as well as he can, though it troubles him, he tells me, that something will come before him wherein he must give him offence, but I do find upon the whole that Mr. Coventry do not listen to these complaints of money with the readiness and resolvedness to remedy that he used to do, and I think if he begins to draw in it is high time for me to do so too. From thence walked round to Whitehall, the Park being quite locked up; and I observed a house shut up this day in the Pell Mell,2573 where heretofore in Cromwell’s time we young men used to keep our weekly clubs. And so to Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret, who is come this day from Chatham, and mighty glad he is to see me, and begun to talk of our great business of the match, which goes on as fast as possible, but for convenience we took water and over to his coach to Lambeth, by which we went to Deptford, all the way talking, first, how matters are quite concluded with all possible content between my Lord and him and signed and sealed, so that my Lady Sandwich is to come thither tomorrow or next day, and the young lady is sent for, and all likely to be ended between them in a very little while, with mighty joy on both sides, and the King, Duke, Lord Chancellor, and all mightily pleased. Thence to news, wherein I find that Sir G. Carteret do now take all my Lord Sandwich’s business to heart, and makes it the same with his own. He tells me how at Chatham it was proposed to my Lord Sandwich to be joined with the Prince in the command of the fleet, which he was most willing to; but when it come to the Prince, he was quite against it; saying, there could be no government, but that it would be better to have two fleetes, and neither under the command of the other, which he would not agree to. So the King was not pleased; but, without any unkindness, did order the fleet to be ordered as above, as to the Admirals and commands: so the Prince is come up; and Sir G. Carteret, I remember, had this word thence, that, says he, by this means, though the King told him that it would be but for this expedition, yet I believe we shall keepe him out for altogether. He tells me how my Lord was much troubled at Sir W. Penn’s being ordered forth (as it seems he is, to go to Solebay, and with the best fleet he can, to go forth), and no notice taken of my Lord Sandwich going after him, and having the command over him. But after some discourse Mr. Coventry did satisfy, as he says, my Lord, so as they parted friends both in that point and upon the other wherein I know my Lord was troubled, and which Mr. Coventry did speak to him of first thinking that my Lord might justly take offence at, his not being mentioned in the relation of the fight in the news book,2574 and did clear all to my Lord how little he was concerned in it, and therewith my Lord also satisfied, which I am mightily glad of, because I should take it a very great misfortune to me to have them two to differ above all the persons in the world. Being come to Deptford, my Lady not being within, we parted, and I by water to Woolwich, where I found my wife come, and her two maids, and very prettily accommodated they will be; and I left them going to supper, grieved in my heart to part with my wife, being worse by much without her, though some trouble there is in having the care of a family at home in this plague time, and so took leave, and I in one boat and W. Hewer in another home very late, first against tide, we having walked in the dark to Greenwich. Late home and to bed, very lonely.
. Up and forth to give order to my pretty grocer’s wife’s house, who, her husband tells me, is going this day for the summer into the country. I bespoke some sugar, etc., for my father, and so home to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then by water to Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret about money for the office, a sad thought, for in a little while all must go to rack, winter coming on apace, when a great sum must be ready to pay part of the fleet, and so far we are from it that we have not enough to stop the mouths of poor people and their hands from falling about our ears here almost in the office. God give a good end to it! Sir G. Carteret told me one considerable thing: Alderman Backewell2575 is ordered abroad upon some private score with a great sum of money; wherein I was instrumental the other day in shipping him away. It seems some of his creditors have taken notice of it, and he was like to be broke yesterday in his absence; Sir G. Carteret telling me that the King and the kingdom must as good as fall with that man at this time; and that he was forced to get £4,000 himself to answer Backewell’s people’s occasions, or he must have broke; but committed this to me as a great secret and which I am heartily sorry to hear. Thence, after a little merry discourse of our marrying business, I parted, and by coach to several places, among others to see my Lord Brunkerd, who is not well, but was at rest when I come. I could not see him, nor had much mind, one of the great houses within two doors of him being shut up: and, Lord! the number of houses visited, which this day I observed through the town quite round in my way by Long Lane and London Wall. So home to the office, and thence to Sir W. Batten, and spent the evening at supper; and, among other discourse, the rashness of Sir John Lawson, for breeding up his daughter so high and proud, refusing a man of great interest, Sir W. Barkeley, to match her with a melancholy fellow, Colonel Norton’s2576 son, of no interest nor good nature nor generosity at all, giving her £6,000, when the other would have taken her with two; when he himself knew that he was not worth the money himself in all the world, he did give her that portion, and is since dead, and left his wife and two daughters beggars, and the other gone away with £6,000, and no content in it, through the ill qualities of her father-in-law and husband, who, it seems, though a pretty woman, contracted for her as if he had been buying a horse; and, worst of all, is now of no use to serve the mother and two little sisters in any stead at Court, whereas the other might have done what he would for her: so here is an end of this family’s pride, which, with good care, might have been what they would, and done well. Thence, weary of this discourse, as the act of the greatest rashness that ever I heard of in all my little conversation, we parted, and I home to bed. Sir W. Penn, it seems, sailed last night from Solebay with, about sixty sail of ship, and my Lord Sandwich in The Prince and some others, it seems, going after them to overtake them, for I am sure my Lord Sandwich will do all possible to overtake them, and will be troubled to the heart if he do it not.
. Up, and having set my neighbour, Mr. Hudson, wine coopers, at work drawing out a tierce of wine for the sending of some of it to my wife, I abroad, only taking notice to what a condition it hath pleased God to bring me that at this time I have two tierces of Claret, two quarter casks of Canary, and a smaller vessel of Sack; a vessel of Tent, another of Malaga, and another of white wine, all in my wine cellar together; which, I believe, none of my friends of my name now alive ever had of his own at one time. To Westminster, and there with Mr. Povy and Creed talking of our Tangier business, and by and by I drew Creed aside and acquainted him with what Sir G. Carteret did tell me about Backewell the other day, because he hath money of his in his hands. So home, taking some new books, £5 worth, home to my great content. At home all the day after busy. Some excellent discourse and advice of Sir W. Warren’s in the afternoon, at night home to look over my new books, and so late to bed.
. All day very diligent at the office, ended my letters by 9 at night, and then fitted myself to go down to Woolwich to my wife, which I did, calling at Sir G. Carteret’s at Deptford, and there hear that my Lady Sandwich is come, but not very well. By 12 o’clock to Woolwich, found my wife asleep in bed, but strange to think what a fine night I had down, but before I had been one minute on shore, the mightiest storm come of wind and rain that almost could be for a quarter of an houre and so left. I to bed, being the first time I come to her lodgings, and there lodged well.
. Very pleasant with her and among my people, while she made her ready, and, about 10 o’clock, by water to Sir G. Carteret, and there find my Lady [Sandwich] in her chamber, not very well, but looks the worst almost that ever I did see her in my life. It seems her drinking of the water at Tunbridge did almost kill her before she could with most violent physic get it out of her body again. We are received with most extraordinary kindness by my Lady Carteret and her children, and dined most nobly. Sir G. Carteret went to Court this morning. After dinner I took occasion to have much discourse with Mr. Ph. Carteret, and find him a very modest man; and I think verily of mighty good nature, and pretty understanding. He did give me a good account of the fight with the Dutch. My Lady Sandwich dined in her chamber. About three o’clock I, leaving my wife there, took boat and home, and there shifted myself into my black silke suit, and having promised Harman yesterday, I to his house, which I find very mean, and mean company. His wife very ill; I could not see her. Here I, with her father and Kate Joyce, who was also very ill, were godfathers and godmother to his boy, and was christened Will. Mr. Meriton2577 christened him. The most observable thing I found there to my content, was to hear him and his clerk tell me that in this parish of Michell’s, Cornhill, one of the middlemost parishes and a great one of the town, there hath, notwithstanding this sickliness, been buried of any disease, man, woman, or child, not one for thirteen months last past; which [is] very strange. And the like in a good degree in most other parishes, I hear, saving only of the plague in them, but in this neither the plague nor any other disease. So back again home and reshifted myself, and so down to my Lady Carteret’s, where mighty merry and great pleasantness between my Lady Sandwich and the young ladies and me, and all of us mighty merry, there never having been in the world sure a greater business of general content than this match proposed between Mr. Carteret and my Lady Jemimah. But withal it is mighty pretty to think how my poor Lady Sandwich, between her and me, is doubtful whether her daughter will like of it or no, and how troubled she is for fear of it, which I do not fear at all, and desire her not to do it, but her fear is the most discreet and pretty that ever I did see. Late here, and then my wife and I, with most hearty kindness from my Lady Carteret by boat to Woolwich, come thither about 12 at night, and so to bed.
. Up, and with great pleasure looking over a nest of puppies of Mr. Shelden’s, with which my wife is most extraordinary pleased, and one of them is promised her. Anon I took my leave, and away by water to the Duke of Albemarle’s, where he tells me that I must be at Hampton Court anon. So I home to look over my Tangier papers, and having a coach of Mr. Povy’s attending me, by appointment, in order to my coming to dine at his country house at Brainford,2578 where he and his family is, I went and Mr. Tasbrough with me therein, it being a pretty chariot, but most inconvenient as to the horses throwing dust and dirt into one’s eyes and upon one’s clothes. There I stayed a quarter of an houre, Creed being there, and being able to do little business (but the less the better). Creed rode before, and Mr. Povy and I after him in the chariot; and I was set down by him at the Park pale, where one of his saddle horses was ready for me, he himself not daring to come into the house or be seen, because that a servant of his, out of his horse, happened to be sicke, but is not yet dead, but was never suffered to come into his house after he was ill. But this opportunity was taken to injure Povy, and most horribly he is abused by some persons hereupon, and his fortune, I believe, quite broke; but that he hath a good heart to bear, or a cunning one to conceal his evil. There I met with Sir W. Coventry, and by and by was heard by my Lord Chancellor and Treasurer about our Tangier money, and my Lord Treasurer had ordered me to forbear meddling with the £15,000 he offered me the other day, but, upon opening the case to them, they did offer it again, and so I think I shall have it, but my Lord General must give his consent in it, this money having been promised to him, and he very angry at the proposal. Here though I have not been in many years, yet I lacke time to stay, besides that it is, I perceive, an unpleasing thing to be at Court, everybody being fearful one of another, and all so sad, enquiring after the plague, so that I stole away by my horse to Kingston, and there with trouble was forced, to press two sturdy rogues to carry me to London, and met at the waterside with Mr. Charnocke, Sir Philip Warwicke’s clerke, who had been in company and was quite foxed. I took him with me in my boat, and so away to Richmond, and there, by night, walked with him to Moreclacke,2579 a very pretty walk, and there stayed a good while, now and then talking and sporting with Nan the servant, who says she is a seaman’s wife, and at last bade good night.
. And so all night down by water, a most pleasant passage, and come thither by two o’clock, and so walked from the Old Swan home, and there to bed to my Will, being very weary, and he lodging at my desire in my house. At 6 o’clock up and to Westminster (where and all the town besides, I hear, the plague increases), and, it being too soon to go to the Duke of Albemarle, I to the Harp and Ball, and there made a bargain with Mary to go forth with me in the afternoon, which she with much ado consented to. So I to the Duke of Albemarle’s, and there with much ado did get his consent in part to my having the money promised for Tangier, and the other part did not concur. So being displeased with this, I back to the office and there sat alone a while doing business, and then by a solemn invitation to the Trinity House, where a great dinner and company, Captain Dobbin’s2580 feast for Elder Brother. But I broke up before the dinner half over and by water to the Harp and Ball, and thence had Mary meet me at the New Exchange, and there took coach and I with great pleasure took the air to Highgate, and thence to Hampstead, much pleased with her company, pretty and innocent, and had what pleasure almost I would with her, and so at night, weary and sweaty, it being very hot beyond bearing, we back again, and I set her down in St. Martin’s Lane, and so I to the evening ’Change, and there hear all the town full that Ostend is delivered to us, and that Alderman Backewell2581 did go with £50,000 to that purpose. But the truth of it I do not know, but something I believe there is extraordinary in his going. So to the office, where I did what I could as to letters, and so away to bed, shifting myself, and taking some Venice treacle, feeling myself out of order, and thence to bed to sleep.
. After doing what business I could in the morning, it being a solemn fast-day2582 for the plague growing upon us, I took boat and down to Deptford, where I stood with great pleasure an houre or two by my Lady Sandwich’s bedside, talking to her (she lying prettily in bed) of my Lady Jemimah’s being from my Lady Pickering’s when our letters come to that place; she being at my Lord Montagu’s, at Boughton. The truth is, I had received letters of it two days ago, but had dropped them, and was in a very extraordinary straite what to do for them, or what account to give my Lady, but sent to every place; I sent to Moreclacke, where I had been the night before, and there they were found, which with mighty joy come safe to me; but all ending with satisfaction to my Lady and me, though I find my Lady Carteret not much pleased with this delay, and principally because of the plague, which renders it unsafe to stay long at Deptford. I eat a bit (my Lady Carteret being the most kind lady in the world), and so took boat, and a fresh boat at the Tower, and so up the river, against tide all the way, I having lost it by staying prating to and with my Lady, and, from before one, made it seven ere we got to Hampton Court; and when I come there all business was over, saving my finding Mr. Coventry at his chamber, and with him a good while about several businesses at his chamber, and so took leave, and away to my boat, and all night upon the water, staying a while with Nan at Moreclacke, very much pleased and merry with her, and so on homeward, and come home by two o’clock, shooting the bridge at that time of night, and so to bed, where I find Will is not, he staying at Woolwich to come with my wife to dinner tomorrow to my Lady Carteret’s. Heard Mr. Williamson repeat at Hampton Court today how the King of France hath lately set out a most high arrest against the Pope, which is reckoned very lofty and high.2583
. Lay long, being sleepy, and then up to the office, my Lord Brunker (after his sickness) being come to the office, and did what business there was, and so I by water, at night late, to Sir G. Carteret’s,2584 but there being no oars to carry me, I was fain to call a skuller that had a gentleman already in it, and he proved a man of love to music, and he and I sung together the way down with great pleasure, and an incident extraordinary to be met with. There come to dinner, they having dined, but my Lady caused something to be brought for me, and I dined well and mighty merry, especially my Lady Slaning and I about eating of creame and brown bread, which she loves as much as I. Thence after long discourse with them and my Lady alone, I and [my] wife, who by agreement met here, took leave, and I saw my wife a little way down (it troubling me that this absence makes us a little strange instead of more fond), and so parted, and I home to some letters, and then home to bed. Above 700 died of the plague this week.
. Up, and all the morning at the Exchequer endeavouring to strike tallies for money for Tangier, and mightily vexed to see how people attend there, some out of town, and others drowsy, and to others it was late, so that the King’s business suffers ten times more than all their service is worth. So I am put off to tomorrow. Thence to the Old Exchange, by water, and there bespoke two fine shirts of my pretty seamstress, who, she tells me, serves Jacke Fenn. Upon the ’Change all the news is that guns have been heard and that news is come by a Dane that my Lord was in view of De Ruyter, and that since his parting from my Lord of Sandwich he hath heard guns, but little of it do I think true. So home to dinner, where Povy by agreement, and after dinner we to talk of our Tangier matters, about keeping our profit at the pay and victualling of the garrison, if the present undertakers should leave it, wherein I did [not] nor will do anything unworthy me and any just man, but they being resolved to quit it, it is fit I should suffer Mr. Povy to do what he can with Mr. Gauden about it to our profit. Thence to the discoursing of putting some sums of money in order and tallies, which we did pretty well. So he in the evening gone, I by water to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there find my Lady Sandwich and her buying things for my Lady Jem.’s wedding; and my Lady Jem. is beyond expectation come to Dagenhams,2585 where Mr. Carteret is to go to visit her tomorrow; and my proposal of waiting on him, he being to go alone to all persons strangers to him, was well accepted, and so I go with him. But, Lord! to see how kind my Lady Carteret is to her! Sends her most rich jewels, and provides bedding and things of all sorts most richly for her, which makes my Lady and me out of our wits almost to see the kindness she treats us all with, as if they would buy the young lady. Thence away home and, foreseeing my being abroad two days, did sit up late making of letters ready against tomorrow, and other things, and so to bed, to be up betimes by the help of a larum watch, which by chance I borrowed of my watchmaker today, while my own is mending.
. Up, and after all business done, though late, I to Deptford, but before I went out of the office saw there young Bagwell’s wife returned, but could not stay to speak to her, though I had a great mind to it, and also another great lady, as to fine clothes, did attend there to have a ticket signed; which I did do, taking her through the garden to my office, where I signed it and had a salute2586 of her, and so I away by boat to Redriffe, and thence walked, and after dinner, at Sir G. Carteret’s, where they stayed till almost three o’clock for me, and anon took boat, Mr. Carteret and I to the ferry-place at Greenwich, and there stayed an hour crossing the water to and again to get our coach and horses over; and by and by set out, and so toward Dagenhams. But, Lord! what silly discourse we had by the way as to love-matters, he being the most awkerd man I ever met with in my life as to that business. Thither we come, by that time it begun to be dark, and were kindly received by Lady Wright and my Lord Crew. And to discourse they went, my Lord discoursing with him, asking of him questions of travell, which he answered well enough in a few words; but nothing to the lady from him at all. To supper, and after supper to talk again, he yet taking no notice of the lady. My Lord would have had me have consented to leaving the young people together tonight, to begin their amours, his staying being but to be little. But I advised against it, lest the lady might be too much surprised. So they led him up to his chamber, where I stayed a little, to know how he liked the lady, which he told me he did mightily; but, Lord! in the dullest insipid manner that ever lover did. So I bid him good night, and down to prayers with my Lord Crew’s family, and after prayers, my Lord, and Lady Wright, and I, to consult what to do; and it was agreed at last to have them go to church together, as the family used to do, though his lameness was a great objection against it. But at last my Lady Jem. sent me word by my Lady Wright that it would be better to do just as they used to do before his coming; and therefore she desired to go to church, which was yielded then to.
. I up, having lain with Mr. Moore in the chaplain’s chamber. And having trimmed myself, down to Mr. Carteret; and he being ready we down and walked in the gallery an hour or two, it being a most noble and pretty house that ever, for the bigness, I saw. Here I taught him what to do: to take the lady always by the hand to lead her, and telling him that I would find opportunity to leave them two together, he should make these and these compliments, and also take a time to do the like to Lord Crew and Lady Wright. After I had instructed him, which he thanked me for, owning that he needed my teaching him, my Lord Crew come down and family, the young lady among the rest; and so by coaches to church four miles off; where a pretty good sermon, and a declaration of penitence of a man that had undergone the Churches censure for his wicked life. Thence back again by coach, Mr. Carteret having not had the confidence to take his lady once by the hand, coming or going, which I told him of when we come home, and he will hereafter do it. So to dinner. My Lord excellent discourse. Then to walk in the gallery, and to sit down. By and by my Lady Wright and I go out (and then my Lord Crew, he not by design), and lastly my Lady Crew come out, and left the young people together. And a little pretty daughter of my Lady Wright’s most innocently come out afterward, and shut the door to, as if she had done it, poor child, by inspiration; which made us without, have good sport to laugh at. They together an hour, and by and by church-time, whither he led her into the coach and into the church, and so at church all the afternoon, several handsome ladies at church. But it was most extraordinary hot that ever I knew it. So home again and to walk in the gardens, where we left the young couple a second time; and my Lady Wright and I to walk together, who to my trouble tells me that my Lady Jem. must have something done to her body by Scott before she can be married, and therefore care must be had to send him, also that some more new clothes must of necessity be made her, which and other things I took care of. Anon to supper, and excellent discourse and dispute between my Lord Crew and the chaplain, who is a good scholler, but a nonconformist. Here this evening I spoke with Mrs. Carter, my old acquaintance, that hath lived with my Lady these twelve or thirteen years, the sum of all whose discourse and others for her, is, that I would get her a good husband; which I have promised, but know not when I shall perform. After Mr. Carteret was carried to his chamber, we to prayers again and then to bed.
. Up all of us, and to billiards; my Lady Wright, Mr. Carteret, myself, and everybody. By and by the young couple left together. Anon to dinner; and after dinner Mr. Carteret took my advice about giving to the servants, and I led him to give £10 among them, which he did, by leaving it to the chief manservant, Mr. Medows, to do for him. Before we went, I took my Lady Jem. apart, and would know how she liked this gentleman, and whether she was under any difficulty concerning him. She blushed, and hid her face awhile; but at last I forced her to tell me. She answered that she could readily obey what her father and mother had done; which was all she could say, or I expect. So anon I took leave, and for London. But, Lord! to see, among other things, how all these great people here are afeard of London, being doubtful of anything that comes from thence, or that hath lately been there, that I was forced to say that I lived wholly at Woolwich. In our way Mr. Carteret did give me mighty thanks for my care and pains for him, and is mightily pleased, though the truth is, my Lady Jem. hath carried herself with mighty discretion and gravity, not being forward at all in any degree, but mighty serious in her answers to him, as by what he says and I observed, I collect. To London to my office, and there took letters from the office, where all well, and so to the Bridge, and there he and I took boat and to Deptford, where mighty welcome, and brought the good news of all being pleased to them. Mighty mirth at my giving them an account of all; but the young man could not be got to say one word before me or my Lady Sandwich of his adventures, but, by what he afterwards related to his father and mother and sisters, he gives an account that pleases them mightily. Here Sir G. Carteret would have me lie all night, which I did most nobly, better than ever I did in my life, Sir G. Carteret being mighty kind to me, leading me to my chamber; and all their care now is, to have the business ended, and they have reason, because the sickness puts all out of order, and they cannot safely stay where they are.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, and so to my house and eat a bit of victuals, and so to the ’Change, where a little business and a very thin Exchange; and so walked through London to the Temple, where I took water for Westminster to the Duke of Albemarle, to wait on him, and so to Westminster Hall, and there paid for my news-books, and did give Mrs. Michell, who is going out of town because of the sickness, and her husband, a pint of wine, and so Sir W. Warren coming to me by appointment we away by water home, by the way discoursing about the project I have of getting some money and doing the King good service too about the mast docke at Woolwich, which I fear will never be done if I do not go about it. After dispatching letters at the office, I by water down to Deptford, where I stayed a little while, and by water to my wife, whom I have not seen 6 or 5 days, and there supped with her, and mighty pleasant, and saw with content her drawings, and so to bed mighty merry. I was much troubled this day to hear at Westminster how the officers do bury the dead in the open Tuttle-fields, pretending want of room elsewhere; whereas the New Chapel2587 churchyard was walled-in at the public charge in the last plague time, merely for want of room and now none, but such as are able to pay dear for it, can be buried there.
. Up and to the office, and thence presently to the Exchequer, and there with much trouble got my tallies, and afterwards took Mr. Falconer, Spicer, and another or two to the Leg and there give them a dinner, and so with my tallies and about 30 dozen of bags, which it seems are my due, having paid the fees as if I had received the money I away home, and after a little stay down by water to Deptford, where I find all full of joy, and preparing to go to Dagenhams tomorrow. To supper, and after supper to talk without end. Very late I went away, it raining, but I had a design pour aller à la femme de Bagwell and did so. … So away about 12, and it raining hard I back to Sir G. Carteret and there called up the page, and to bed there, being all in a most violent sweat.
. Up, in a boat among other people to the Tower, and there to the office, where we sat all the morning. So down to Deptford and there dined, and after dinner saw my Lady Sandwich and Mr. Carteret and his two sisters over the water, going to Dagenhams, and my Lady Carteret towards Cranburne.2588 So all the company broke up in most extraordinary joy, wherein I am mighty contented that I have had the good fortune to be so instrumental, and I think it will be of good use to me. So walked to Redriffe, where I hear the sickness is, and indeed is scattered almost everywhere, there dying 1089 of the plague this week. My Lady Carteret did this day give me a bottle of plague-water home with me. So home to write letters late, and then home to bed, where I have not lain these 3 or 4 nights. I received yesterday a letter from my Lord Sandwich, giving me thanks for my care about their marriage business, and desiring it to be dispatched, that no disappointment may happen therein, which I will help on all I can. This afternoon I waited on the Duke of Albemarle, and so to Mrs. Croft’s, where I found and saluted Mrs. Burrows,2589 who is a very pretty woman for a mother of so many children. But, Lord! to see how the plague spreads. It being now all over King’s Street, at the Axe, and next door to it, and in other places.
. Up and abroad to the goldsmiths, to see what money I could get upon my present tallies upon the advance of the Excise, and I hope I shall get £10,000. I went also and had them entered at the Excise Office. Alderman Backewell is at sea. Sir R. Viner come to town but this morning. So Colvill was the only man I could yet speak withal to get any money of. Met with Mr. Povy, and I with him and dined at the Custom House Tavern, there to talk of our Tangier business, and Stockedale2590 and Hewet with us. So abroad to several places, among others to Anthony Joyce’s, and there broke to him my desire to have Pall married to Harman, whose wife, poor woman, is lately dead, to my trouble, I loving her very much, and he will consider it. So home and late at my chamber, setting some papers in order; the plague growing very raging, and my apprehensions of it great. So very late to bed.
. As soon as up I among my goldsmiths, Sir Robert Viner and Colvill, and there got £10,000 of my new tallies accepted, and so I made it my work to find out Mr. Mervin and sent for others to come with their bills of Exchange, as Captain Hewett, etc., and sent for Mr. Jackson, but he was not in town. So all the morning at the office, and after dinner, which was very late, I to Sir R. Viner’s, by his invitation in the morning, and got near £5,000 more accepted, and so from this day the whole, or near, £15,000, lies upon interest. Thence I by water to Westminster, and the Duke of Albemarle being gone to dinner to my Lord of Canterbury’s, I thither, and there walked and viewed the new hall,2591 a new old-fashion hall as much as possible. Begun, and means left for the ending of it, by Bishop Juxon. Not coming proper to speak with him, I to Fox-hall, where to the Spring garden; but I do not see one guest there, the town being so empty of anybody to come thither. Only, while I was there, a poor woman come to scold with the master of the house that a kinswoman, I think, of hers, that was newly dead of the plague, might be buried in the churchyard; for, for her part, she should not be buried in the commons, as they said she should. Back to Whitehall, and by and by comes the Duke of Albemarle, and there, after a little discourse, I by coach home, not meeting with but two coaches, and but two carts from Whitehall to my own house, that I could observe; and the streets mighty thin of people. I met this noon with Dr. Burnett, who told me, and I find in the newsbook this week that he posted upon the ’Change, that whoever did spread the report that, instead of the plague, his servant was by him killed, it was forgery, and showed me the acknowledgment of the master of the pesthouse, that his servant died of a bubo on his right groine, and two spots on his right thigh, which is the plague. To my office, where late writing letters, and getting myself prepared with business for Hampton Court tomorrow, and so having caused a good pullet to be got for my supper, all alone, I very late to bed. All the news is great: that we must of necessity fall out with France, for He will side with the Dutch against us. That Alderman Backewell is gone over (which indeed he is) with money, and that Ostend is in our present possession. But it is strange to see how poor Alderman Backewell is like to be put to it in his absence, Mr. Shaw his right hand being ill. And the Alderman’s absence gives doubts to people, and I perceive they are in great straits for money, besides what Sir G. Carteret told me about fourteen days ago. Our fleet under my Lord Sandwich being about the latitude 55½ (which is a great secret) to the Northward of the Texell. So to bed very late. In my way I called upon Sir W. Turner, and at Mr. Shelcrosse’s (but he was not at home, having left his bill with Sir W. Turner), that so I may prove I did what I could as soon as I had money to answer all bills.
. Up very betimes, called by Mr. Cutler, by appointment, and with him in his coach and four horses over London Bridge to Kingston, a very pleasant journey, and at Hampton Court by nine o’clock, and in our way very good and various discourse, as he is a man, that though I think he be a knave, as the world thinks him, yet a man of great experience and worthy to be heard discourse. When we come there, we to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there discoursed long with him, he and I alone, the others being gone away, and so walked together through the garden to the house, where we parted, I observing with a little trouble that he is too great now to expect too much familiarity with, and I find he do not mind me as he used to do, but when I reflect upon him and his business I cannot think much of it, for I do not observe anything but the same great kindness from him. I followed the King to chapel, and there hear a good sermon; and after sermon with my Lord Arlington, Sir Thomas Ingram and others, spoke to the Duke about Tangier, but not to much purpose. I was not invited any whither to dinner, though a stranger, which did also trouble me; but yet I must remember it is a Court, and indeed where most are strangers; but, however, Cutler carried me to Mr. Marriott’s2592 the housekeeper, and there we had a very good dinner and good company, among others Lilly, the painter. Thence to the councill-chamber, where in a back room I sat all the afternoon, but the councill begun late to sit, and spent most of the time upon Morisco’s Tar business.2593 They sat long, and I forced to follow Sir Thomas Ingram, the Duke, and others, so that when I got free and come to look for Cutler, he was gone with his coach, without leaving any word with anybody to tell me so; so that I was forced with great trouble to walk up and down looking of him, and at last forced to get a boat to carry me to Kingston, and there, after eating a bit at a neat inne, which pleased me well, I took boat, and slept all the way, without intermission, from thence to Queenhive,2594 where, it being about two o’clock, too late and too soon to go home to bed, I lay and slept till about four,
. And then up and home, and there dressed myself, and by appointment to Deptford, to Sir G. Carteret’s, between six and seven o’clock, where I found him and my Lady almost ready, and by and by went over to the ferry, and took coach and six horses nobly for Dagenhams, himself and lady and their little daughter, Louisonne,2595 and myself in the coach; where, when we come, we were bravely entertained and spent the day most pleasantly with the young ladies, and I so merry as never more. Only for want of sleep, and drinking of strong beer had a rheum in one of my eyes, which troubled me much. Here with great content all the day, as I think I ever passed a day in my life, because of the contentfulness of our errand, and the nobleness of the company and our manner of going. But I find Mr. Carteret yet as backward almost in his caresses, as he was the first day. At night, about seven o’clock, took coach again; but, Lord! to see in what a pleasant humour Sir G. Carteret hath been both coming and going; so light, so fond, so merry, so boyish (so much content he takes in this business), it is one of the greatest wonders I ever saw in my mind. But once in serious discourse he did say that, if he knew his son to be a debauchee, as many and, most are nowadays about the Court, he would tell it, and my Lady Jem. should not have him; and so enlarged both he and she about the baseness and looseness of the Court, and told several stories of the Duke of Monmouth, and Richmond, and some great person, my Lord of Ormond’s second son,2596 married to a lady of extraordinary quality (fit and that might have been made a wife for the King himself), about six months since, that this great person hath given the pox to ⸻;2597 and discoursed how much this would oblige the Kingdom if the King would banish some of these great persons publicly from the Court, and wished it with all their hearts. We set out so late that it grew dark, so as we doubted the losing of our way; and a long time it was, or seemed, before we could get to the waterside, and that about eleven at night, where, when we come, all merry (only my eye troubled me, as I said), we found no ferryboat was there, nor no oares to carry us to Deptford. However, afterwards oares was called from the other side at Greenwich; but, when it come, a frolic, being mighty merry, took us, and there we would sleep all night in the coach in the Isle of Dogs. So we did, there being now with us my Lady Scott,2598 and with great pleasure drew up the glasses, and slept till daylight, and then some victuals and wine being brought us, we ate a bit, and so up and took boat, merry as might be; and when come to Sir G. Carteret’s, there all to bed.
. Our good humour in everybody continuing, and there I slept till seven o’clock. Then up and to the office, well refreshed, my eye only troubling me, which by keeping a little covered with my handkercher and washing now and then with cold water grew better by night. At noon to the ’Change, which was very thin, and thence homeward, and was called in by Mr. Rawlinson, with whom I dined and some good company very harmlessly merry. But sad the story of the plague in the City, it growing mightily. This day my Lord Brunker did give me Mr. Grant’s2599 book upon the Bills of Mortality, new printed and enlarged. Thence to my office awhile, full of business, and thence by coach to the Duke of Albemarle’s, not meeting one coach going nor coming from my house thither and back again, which is very strange. One of my chief errands was to speak to Sir W. Clerke2600 about my wife’s brother,2601 who importunes me, and I doubt he do want mightily, but I can do little for him there as to employment in the army, and out of my purse I dare not for fear of a precedent, and letting him come often to me is troublesome and dangerous too, he living in the dangerous part of the town, but I will do what I can possibly for him and as soon as I can. Mightily troubled all this afternoon with masters coming to me about Bills of Exchange and my signing them upon my Goldsmiths, but I did send for them all and hope to ease myself this weeke of all the clamour. These two or three days Mr. Shaw at Alderman Backewell’s hath lain sick, like to die, and is feared will not live a day to an end. At night home and to bed, my head full of business, and among others, this day come a letter to me from Paris from my Lord Hinchingbroke, about his coming over; and I have sent this night an order from the Duke of Albemarle for a ship of 36 guns2602 to [go] to Calais to fetch him.
. Up, and after doing a little business, down to Deptford with Sir W. Batten, and there left him, and I to Greenwich to the Park, where I hear the King and Duke are come by water this morn from Hampton Court. They asked me several questions. The King mightily pleased with his new buildings there. I followed them to Castle’s ship in building, and there, met Sir W. Batten, and thence to Sir G. Carteret’s, where all the morning with them; they not having any but the Duke of Monmouth, and Sir W. Killigrew,2603 and one gentleman, and a page more. Great variety of talk, and was often led to speak to the King and Duke. By and by they to dinner, and all to dinner and sat down to the King saving myself, which, though I could not in modesty expect, yet, God forgive my pride! I was sorry I was there, that Sir W. Batten should say that he could sit down where I could not, though he had twenty times more reason than I, but this was my pride and folly. I down and walked with Mr. Castle, who told me the design of Ford and Rider to oppose and do all the hurt they can to Captain Taylor in his new ship The London,2604 and how it comes, and that they are a couple of false persons, which I believe, and withal that he himself is a knave too. He and I by and by to dinner mighty nobly, and the King having dined, he come down, and I went in the barge with him, I sitting at the door. Down to Woolwich (and there I just saw and kissed my wife, and saw some of her painting, which is very curious; and away again to the King) and back again with him in the barge, hearing him and the Duke talk, and seeing and observing their manner of discourse. And God forgive me! though I admire them with all the duty possible, yet the more a man considers and observes them, the less he finds of difference between them and other men, though (blessed be God!) they are both princes of great nobleness and spirits. The barge put me into another boat that come to our side, Mr. Holder with a bag of gold to the Duke, and so they away and I home to the office. The Duke of Monmouth is the most skittish leaping gallant that ever I saw, always in action, vaulting or leaping, or clambering. Thence mighty full of the honour of this day, I took coach and to Kate Joyce’s, but she not within, but spoke with Anthony, who tells me he likes well of my proposal for Pall to Harman, but I fear that less than £500 will not be taken, and that I shall not be able to give, though I did not say so to him. After a little other discourse and the sad news of the death of so many in the parish of the plague, forty last night, the bell always going, I back to the Exchange, where I went up and sat talking with my beauty, Mrs. Batelier,2605 a great while, who is indeed one of the finest women I ever saw in my life. After buying some small matter, I home, and there to the office and saw Sir J. Minnes now come from Portsmouth, I home to set my Journal for these four days in order, they being four days of as great content and honour and pleasure to me as ever I hope to live or desire, or think anybody else can live. For methinks if a man would but reflect upon this, and think that all these things are ordered by God Almighty to make me contented, and even this very marriage now on foot is one of the things intended to find me content in, in my life and matter of mirth, methinks it should make one mightily more satisfied in the world than he is. This day poor Robin Shaw at Backewell’s died, and Backewell himself now in Flanders. The King himself asked about Shaw, and being told he was dead, said he was very sorry for it. The sickness is got into our parish this week, and is got, indeed, everywhere; so that I begin to think of setting things in order, which I pray God enable me to put both as to soul and body.
. Called up at 4 o’clock. Up and to my preparing some papers for Hampton Court, and so by water to Fox Hall, and there Mr. Gauden’s coach took me up, and by and by I took up him, and so both thither, a brave morning to ride in and good discourse with him. Among others he begun with me to speak of the Tangier Victuallers resigning their employment, and his willingness to come on. Of which I was glad, and took the opportunity to answer him with all kindness and promise of assistance. He told me a while since my Lord Berkeley did speak of it to him, and yesterday a message from Sir Thomas Ingram. When I come to Hampton Court I find Sir T. Ingram and Creed ready with papers signed for the putting of Mr. Gawden in, upon a resignation signed to by Lanyon and sent to Sir Thos. Ingram. At this I was surprised but yet was glad, and so it passed but with respect enough to those that are in, at least without anything ill taken from it. I got another order signed about the boats, which I think I shall get something by. So dispatched all my business, having assurance of continuance of all hearty love from Sir W. Coventry, and so we stayed and saw the King and Queen set out toward Salisbury, and after them the Duke and Duchess, whose hands I did kiss. And it was the first time I did ever, or did see anybody else, kiss her hand, and it was a most fine white and fat hand. But it was pretty to see the young pretty ladies dressed like men, in velvet coats, caps with ribbons, and with laced bands, just like men. Only the Duchess herself it did not become. They gone, we with great content took coach again, and hungry come to Clapham about one o’clock, and Creed there too before us, where a good dinner, the house having dined, and so to walk up and down in the gardens, mighty pleasant. By and by comes by promise to me Sir G. Carteret, and viewed the house2606 above and below, and sat and drank there, and I had a little opportunity to kiss and spend some time with the ladies above, his daughter, a buxom lass, and his sister Fissant, a serious lady, and a little daughter of hers, that begins to sing prettily. Thence, with mighty pleasure, with Sir G. Carteret by coach, with great discourse of kindness with him to my Lord Sandwich, and to me also; and I every day see more good by the alliance. Almost at Deptford I ’light and walked over to Halfway House, and so home, in my way being shown my cousin Patience’s house, which seems, at distance, a pretty house. At home met the weekly Bill, where above 1,000 increased in the Bill, and of them, in all about 1,700 of the plague, which hath made the officers this day resolve of sitting at Deptford, which puts me to some consideration what to do. Therefore home to think and consider of everything about it, and without determining anything eat a little supper and to bed, full of the pleasure of these 6 or 7 last days.
. Up betimes, and down to Deptford, where, after a little discourse with Sir G. Carteret, who is much displeased with the order of our officers yesterday to remove the office to Deptford, pretending other things, but to be sure it is with regard to his own house (which is much because his family is going away). I am glad I was not at the order making, and so I will endeavour to alter it. Set out with my Lady all alone with her with six horses to Dagenhams; going by water to the Ferry. And a pleasant going, and good discourse; and when there, very merry, and the young couple now well acquainted. But, Lord! to see in what fear all the people here do live would make one mad, they are afeard of us that come to them, insomuch that I am troubled at it, and wish myself away. But some cause they have; for the chaplain, with whom but a week or two ago we were here mighty high disputing, is since fallen into a fever and dead, being gone hence to a friend’s a good way off. A sober and a healthful man. These considerations make us all hasten the marriage, and resolve it upon Monday next, which is three days before we intended it. Mighty merry all of us, and in the evening with full content took coach again and home by daylight with great pleasure, and thence I down to Woolwich, where find my wife well, and after drinking and talking a little we to bed.
. Up betimes, and after viewing some of my wife’s pictures, which now she is come to do very finely to my great satisfaction beyond what I could ever look for, I went away and by water to the office, where nobody to meet me, but busy all the morning. At noon to dinner, where I hear that my Will is come in thither and laid down upon my bed, ill of the headache, which put me into extraordinary fear; and I studied all I could to get him out of the house, and set my people to work to do it without discouraging him, and myself went forth to the Old Exchange to pay my fair Batelier for some linen, and took leave of her, they breaking up shop for a while; and so by coach to Kate Joyce’s, and there used all the vehemence and rhetoric I could to get her husband to let her go down to Brampton, but I could not prevail with him; he urging some simple reasons, but most that of profit, minding the house, and the distance, if either of them should be ill. However, I did my best, and more than I had a mind to do, but that I saw him so resolved against it, while she was mightily troubled at it. At last he yielded she should go to Windsor, to some friends there. So I took my leave of them, believing that it is great odds that we ever all see one another again; for I dare not go any more to that end of the town. So home, and to writing of letters—hard, and then at night home, and fell to my Tangier papers till late, and then to bed, in some ease of mind that Will is gone to his lodging, and that he is likely to do well, it being only the headache.
. Up, and in my night gown, cap and neckcloth, undressed all day long, lost not a minute, but in my chamber, setting my Tangier accounts to rights. Which I did by night to my very heart’s content, not only that it is done, but I find everything right, and even beyond what, after so long neglecting them, I did hope for. The Lord of Heaven be praised for it! Will was with me today, and is very well again. It was a sad noise to hear our bell to toll and ring so often today, either for deaths or burials; I think five or six times. At night weary with my day’s work, but full of joy at my having done it, I to bed, being to rise betimes tomorrow to go to the wedding at Dagenhams. So to bed, fearing I have got some cold sitting in my loose garments all this day.
. Up, and very betimes by six o’clock at Deptford, and there find Sir G. Carteret, and my Lady ready to go: I being in my new coloured silk suit, and coat trimmed with gold buttons and gold broad lace round my hands, very rich and fine. By water to the Ferry, where, when we come, no coach there; and tide of ebb so far spent as the horse-boat could not get off on the other side the river to bring away the coach. So we were fain to stay there in the unlucky Isle of Dogs, in a chill place, the morning cool, and wind fresh, above two if not three hours to our great discontent. Yet being upon a pleasant errand, and seeing that it could not be helped, we did bear it very patiently; and it was worth my observing, I thought, as ever anything, to see how upon these two scores, Sir G. Carteret, the most passionate man in the world, and that was in greatest haste to be gone, did bear with it, and very pleasant all the while, at least not troubled much so as to fret and storm at it. Anon the coach comes: in the meantime there coming a News thither with his horse to go over, that told us he did come from Islington this morning; and that Proctor2607 the vintner of the Miter in Wood-street, and his son, are dead this morning there, of the plague; he having laid out abundance of money there, and was the greatest vintner for some time in London for great entertainments. We, fearing the canonicall hour would be past before we got thither, did with a great deal of unwillingness send away the license and wedding ring. So that when we come, though we drove hard with six horses, yet we found them gone from home; and going towards the church, met them coming from church, which troubled us. But, however, that trouble was soon over; hearing it was well done: they being both in their old clothes; my Lord Crew giving her, there being three coach fulls of them. The young lady mighty sad, which troubled me; but yet I think it was only her gravity in a little greater degree than usual. All saluted her, but I did not till my Lady Sandwich did ask me whether I had saluted her or no. So to dinner, and very merry we were; but yet in such a sober way as never almost any wedding was in so great families: but it was much better. After dinner company divided, some to cards, others to talk. My Lady Sandwich and I up to settle accounts, and pay her some money. And mighty kind she is to me, and would fain have had me gone down for company with her to Hinchingbroke; but for my life I cannot. At night to supper, and so to talk; and which, methought, was the most extraordinary thing, all of us to prayers as usual, and the young bride and bridegroom too and so after prayers, soberly to bed; only I got into the bridegroom’s chamber while he undressed himself, and there was very merry, till he was called to the bride’s chamber, and into bed they went. I kissed the bride in bed, and so the curtains drawn with the greatest gravity that could be, and so good night. But the modesty and gravity of this business was so decent, that it was to me indeed ten times more delightful than if it had been twenty times more merry and joviall. Whereas I feared I must have sat up all night, we did here all get good beds, and I lay in the same I did before with Mr. Brisband, who is a good scholler and sober man; and we lay in bed, getting him to give me an account of home, which is the most delightful talk a man can have of any traveller: and so to sleep. My eyes much troubled already with the change of my drink. Thus I ended this month with the greatest joy that ever I did any in my life, because I have spent the greatest part of it with abundance of joy, and honour, and pleasant journeys, and brave entertainments, and without cost of money; and at last live to see the business ended with great content on all sides.2608 This evening with Mr. Brisband, speaking of enchantments and spells; I telling him some of my charms; he told me this of his own knowledge, at Bourdeaux, in France.2609 The words these:
Voyci un Corps mort, Royde com̄e un Baston, Froid comme Marbre, Leger com̄e un esprit, Levons to au nom de Jesus Christ.
He saw four little girls, very young ones, all kneeling, each of them, upon one knee; and one begun the first line, whispering in the ear of the next, and the second to the third, and the third to the fourth, and she to the first. Then the first begun the second line, and so round quite through, and, putting each one finger only to a boy that lay flat upon his back on the ground, as if he was dead; at the end of the words, they did with their four fingers raise this boy as high as they could reach, and he [Mr. Brisband] being there, and wondering at it, as also being afeard to see it, for they would have had him to have bore a part in saying the words, in the roome of one of the little girls that was so young that they could hardly make her learn to repeat the words, did, for feare there might be some sleight used in it by the boy, or that the boy might be light, call the cook of the house, a very lusty fellow, as Sir G. Carteret’s cook, who is very big, and they did raise him in just the same manner. This is one of the strangest things I ever heard, but he tells it me of his own knowledge, and I do heartily believe it to be true. I enquired of him whether they were Protestant or Catholic girls; and he told me they were Protestant, which made it the more strange to me. Thus we end this month, as I said, after the greatest glut of content that ever I had; only under some difficulty because of the plague, which grows mightily upon us, the last week being about 1700 or 1800 of the plague. My Lord Sandwich at sea with a fleet of about 100 sail, to the Northward, expecting De Ruyter, or the Dutch East India fleet. My Lord Hinchingbroke coming over from France, and will meet his sister at Scott’s-hall.2610 Myself having obliged both these families in this business very much; as both my Lady, and Sir G. Carteret and his Lady do confess exceedingly, and the latter do also now call me cousin, which I am glad of. So God preserve us all friends long, and continue health among us.
August 1665
. Slept, and lay long; then up and my Lord [Crew] and Sir G. Carteret being gone abroad, I first to see the bridegroom and bride, and found them both up, and he gone to dress himself. Both red in the face, and well enough pleased this morning with their night’s lodging. Thence down and Mr. Brisband and I to billiards: anon come my Lord and Sir G. Carteret in, who have been looking abroad and visiting some farms that Sir G. Carteret hath thereabouts, and, among other things, report the greatest stories of the bigness of the calfes they find there, ready to sell to the butchers, as big, they say, as little Cowes, and that they do give them a piece of chalke to licke, which they hold makes them white in the flesh within. Very merry at dinner, and so to talk and laugh after dinner, and up and down, some to [one] place, some to another, full of content on all sides. Anon about five o’clock, Sir G. Carteret and his lady and I took coach with the greatest joy and kindness that could be from the two families or that ever I saw with so much appearance, and, I believe, reality in all my life. Drove hard home, and it was night ere we got to Deptford, where, with much kindness from them to me, I left them, and home to the office, where I find all well, and being weary and sleepy, it being very late, I to bed.
. Up, it being a public fast, as being the first Wednesday of the month, for the plague;2611 I within doors all day, and upon my monthly accounts late, and there to my great joy settled almost all my private matters of money in my books clearly, and allowing myself several sums which I had hitherto not reckoned myself sure of, because I would not be over sure of anything, though with reason I might do it, I did find myself really worth £1,900, for which the great God of Heaven and Earth be praised! At night to the office to write a few letters, and so home to bed, after fitting myself for tomorrow’s journey.
. Up, and betimes to Deptford to Sir G. Carteret’s, where, not liking the horse that had been hired by Mr. Uthwayt for me, I did desire Sir G. Carteret to let me ride his new £40 horse, which he did, and so I left my hacquenée2612 behind, and so after staying a good while in their bedchamber while they were dressing themselves, discoursing merrily, I parted and to the ferry, where I was forced to stay a great while before I could get my horse brought over, and then mounted and rode very finely to Dagenhams; all the way people, citizens, walking to and again to enquire how the plague is in the City this week by the Bill; which by chance, at Greenwich, I had heard was 2,020 of the plague, and 3,000 and odd of all diseases; but methought it was a sad question to be so often asked me. Coming to Dagenhams, I there met our company coming out of the house, having stayed as long as they could for me; so I let them go a little before, and went and took leave of my Lady Sandwich, good woman, who seems very sensible of my service in this late business, and having her directions in some things, among others, to get Sir G. Carteret and my Lord to settle the portion, and what Sir G. Carteret is to settle, into land, soon as may be, she not liking that it should lie long undone, for fear of death on either side. So took leave of her, and then down to the buttery, and eat a piece of cold venison pie, and drank and took some bread and cheese in my hand; and so mounted after them, Mr. Marr very kindly staying to lead me the way. By and by met my Lord Crew returning, after having accompanied them a little way, and so after them, Mr. Marr telling me by the way how a maid servant of Mr. John Wright’s (who lives thereabouts) falling sick of the plague, she was removed to an outhouse, and a nurse appointed to look to her; who, being once absent, the maid got out of the house at the window, and run away. The nurse coming and knocking, and having no answer, believed she was dead, and went and told Mr. Wright so; who and his lady were in great strait what to do to get her buried. At last resolved to go to Burntwood2613 hard by, being in the parish, and there get people to do it. But they would not; so he went home full of trouble, and in the way met the wench walking over the common, which frighted him worse than before; and was forced to send people to take her, which he did; and they got one of the pest coaches and put her into it to carry her to a pest house. And passing in a narrow lane, Sir Anthony Browne,2614 with his brother and some friends in the coach, met this coach with the curtains drawn close. The brother being a young man, and believing there might be some lady in it that would not be seen, and the way being narrow, he thrust his head out of his own into her coach, and to look, and there saw somebody look very ill, and in a sick dress, and stunk mightily; which the coachman also cried out upon. And presently they come up to some people that stood looking after it, and told our gallants that it was a maid of Mr. Wright’s carried away sick of the plague; which put the young gentleman into a fright had almost cost him his life, but is now well again. I, overtaking our young people, ’light, and into the coach to them, where mighty merry all the way; and anon come to the Blockhouse,2615 over against Gravesend, where we stayed a great while, in a little drinking-house. Sent back our coaches to Dagenhams. I, by and by, by boat to Gravesend, where no news of Sir G. Carteret come yet; so back again, and fetched them all over, but the two saddle-horses that were to go with us, which could not be brought over in the horseboat, the wind and tide being against us, without towing; so we had some difference with some watermen, who would not tow them over under 20s., whereupon I swore to send one of them to sea and will do it. Anon some others come to me and did it for 10s. By and by comes Sir G. Carteret, and so we set out for Chatham: in my way overtaking some company, wherein was a lady, very pretty, riding singly, her husband in company with her. We fell into talk, and I read a copy of verses which her husband showed me, and he discommended, but the lady commended: and I read them, so as to make the husband turn to commend them. By and by he and I fell into acquaintance, having known me formerly at the Exchequer. His name is Nokes, over against Bow Church. He was servant to Alderman Dashwood. We promised to meet, if ever we come both to London again; and, at parting, I had a fair salute on horseback, in Rochester streets, of the lady, and so parted. Come to Chatham mighty merry, and anon to supper, it being near 9 o’clock ere we come thither. My Lady Carteret come thither in a coach, by herself, before us. Great mind they have to buy a little hacquenée that I rode on from Greenwich, for a woman’s horse. Mighty merry, and after supper, all being withdrawn, Sir G. Carteret did take an opportunity to speak with much value and kindness to me, which is of great joy to me. So anon to bed. Mr. Brisband and I together to my content.
. Up at five o’clock, and by six walked out alone, with my Lady Slanning,2616 to the Docke Yard, where walked up and down, and so to Mr. Pett’s, who led us into his garden, and there the lady, the best humoured woman in the world, and a devout woman (I having spied her on her knees half an houre this morning in her chamber), clambered up to the top of the banquetting-house to gather nuts, and mighty merry, and so walked back again through the new rope house, which is very useful; and so to the Hill-house to breakfast and mighty merry. Then they took coach, and Sir G. Carteret kissed me himself heartily, and my Lady several times, with great kindness, and then the young ladies, and so with much joy, bade “God be with you!” and an end I think it will be to my mirthe for a great while, it having been the passage of my whole life the most pleasing for the time, considering the quality and nature of the business, and my noble usage in the doing of it, and very many fine journeys, entertainments and great company. I returned into the house for a while to do business there with Commissioner Pett, and there with the officers of the Chest, where I saw more of Sir W. Batten’s business than ever I did before, for whereas he did own once under his hand to them that he was accountable for £2,200, of which he had yet paid but £1,600, he writes them a letter lately that he hath but about £50 left that is due to the Chest, but I will do something in it and that speedily. That being done I took horse, and Mr. Barrow2617 with me bore me company to Gravesend, discoursing of his business, wherein I vexed him, and he me, I seeing his frowardness, but yet that he is in my conscience a very honest man, and some good things he told me, which I shall remember to the King’s advantage. There I took boat alone, and, the tide being against me, landed at Blackwall and walked to Wapping, Captain Bowd whom I met with talking with me all the way, who is a sober man. So home, and found all things well, and letters from Dover that my Lord Hinchingbroke is arrived at Dover, and would be at Scott’s hall this night, where the whole company will meet. I wish myself with them. After writing a few letters I took boat and down to Woolwich very late, and there found my wife and her woman upon the key hearing a fellow in a barge, that lay by, fiddle. So I to them and in, very merry, and to bed, I sleepy and weary.
. In the morning up, and my wife showed me several things of her doing, especially one fine woman’s Persian head mighty finely done, beyond what I could expect of her; and so away by water, having ordered in the yarde six or eight bargemen to be whipped, who had last night stolen some of the King’s cordage from out of the yarde. I to Deptford, and there by agreement met with my Lord Brouncker, and there we kept our office, he and I, and did what there was to do, and at noon parted to meet at the office next week. Sir W. Warren and I thence did walk through the rain to Halfway House, and there I eat a piece of boiled beef and he and I talked over several businesses, among others our design upon the mast docke, which I hope to compass and get 2 or £300 by. Thence to Redriffe, where we parted, and I home, where busy all the afternoon. Stepped to Colvill’s to set right a business of money, where he told me that for certain De Ruyter is come home, with all his fleet, which is very ill news, considering the charge we have been at in keeping a fleet to the northward so long, besides the great expectation of snapping him, wherein my Lord Sandwich will I doubt suffer some dishonour. I am told also of a great riot upon Thursday last in Cheapside; Colonel Danvers,2618 a delinquent, having been taken, and in his way to the Tower was rescued from the captain of the guard, and carried away; only one of the rescuers being taken. I am told also that the Duke of Buckingham is dead,2619 but I know not of a certainty. So home and very late at letters, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Dressed and had my head combed by my little girl, to whom I confess que jesumdemasiado kind, nuper ponendomes mains in sudes choses de son breast, mais il faut que je leave it lest it bring me to alcun major inconvenience. So to my business in my chamber, look over and settling more of my papers than I could the two last days I have spent about them. In the evening, it raining hard, down to Woolwich, where after some little talk to bed.
. Up, and with great pleasure looking over my wife’s pictures, and then to see my Lady Penn, whom I have not seen since her coming hither, and after being a little merry with her, she went forth and I stayed there talking with Mrs. Pegg and looking over her pictures, and commended them; but, Lord! so far short of my wife’s, as no comparison. Thence to my wife, and there spent, talking, till noon, when by appointment Mr. Andrews come out of the country to speake with me about their Tangier business, and so having done with him and dined, I home by water, where by appointment I met Dr. Twisden, Mr. Povy, Mr. Lawson, and Stockdale about settling their business of money; but such confusion I never met with, nor could anything be agreed on, but parted like a company of fools, I vexed to lose so much time and pains to no purpose. They gone, comes Rayner, the boatmaker, about some business, and brings a piece of plate with him, which I refused to take of him, thinking indeed that the poor man hath no reason nor encouragement from our dealings with him to give any of us any presents. He gone, there comes Luellin, about Mr. Deering’s business of planke, to have the contract perfected, and offers me twenty pieces in gold, as Deering had done some time since himself, but I both then and now refused it, resolving not to be bribed to dispatch business, but will have it done however out of hand forthwith. So he gone, I to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning we sat. At noon I home to dinner alone, and after dinner Bagwell’s wife waited at the door, and went with me to my office. … So parted, and I to Sir W. Batten’s, and there sat the most of the afternoon talking and drinking too much with my Lord Brouncker, Sir G. Smith, G. Cocke and others very merry. I drunk a little mixed, but yet more than I should do. So to my office a little, and then to the Duke of Albemarle’s about some business. The streets mighty empty all the way, now even in London, which is a sad sight. And to Westminster Hall, where talking, hearing very sad stories from Mrs. Mumford; among others, of Mrs. Michell’s son’s family. And poor Will, that used to sell us ale at the Hall-door, his wife and three children died, all, I think, in a day. So home through the City again, wishing I may have taken no ill in going; but I will go, I think, no more thither. Late at the office, and then home to supper, having taken a pullet home with me, and then to bed. The news of De Ruyter’s coming home is certain; and told to the great disadvantage of our fleet, and the praise of De Ruyter; but it cannot be helped, nor do I know what to say to it.
. Up betimes to my office, where Tom Hater to the writing of letters with me, which have for a good while been in arreare, and we close at it all day till night, only made a little step out for half an houre in the morning to the Exchequer about striking of tallies, but no good done therein, people being most out of town. At noon T. Hater dined with me, and so at it all the afternoon. At night home and supped, and after reading a little in Cowley’s poems, my head being disturbed with overmuch business today, I to bed.
. Up betimes, and called upon early by my she-cousin Porter, the turner’s wife, to tell me that her husband was carried to the Tower, for buying of some of the King’s powder, and would have my help, but I could give her none, not daring any more to appear in the business, having too much trouble lately therein. By and by to the office, where we sat all the morning; in great trouble to see the Bill this week rise so high, to above 4,000 in all, and of them above 3,000 of the plague. And an odd story of Alderman Bence’s2620 stumbling at night over a dead corpse in the street, and going home and telling his wife, she at the fright, being with child, fell sicke and died of the plague. We sat late, and then by invitation my Lord Brunker, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten and I to Sir G. Smith’s to dinner, where very good company and good cheer. Captain Cocke was there and Jacke Fenn, but to our great wonder Alderman Bence, and tells us that not a word of all this is true, and others said so too, but by his own story his wife hath been ill, and he fain to leave his house and comes not to her, which continuing a trouble to me all the time I was there. Thence to the office and, after writing letters, home, to draw over anew my will, which I had bound myself by oath to dispatch by tomorrow night; the town growing so unhealthy, that a man cannot depend upon living two days to an end. So having done something of it, I to bed.
. Up, and all day long finishing and writing over my will twice, for my father and my wife, only in the morning a pleasant rencontre happened in having a young married woman brought me by her father, old Delkes, that carries pins always in his mouth, to get her husband off that he should not go to sea, une contre pouvait avoir done any cose cum elle, but I did nothing, si ni baisser her. After they were gone my mind run upon having them called back again, and I sent a messenger to Blackwall, but he failed. So I lost my expectation. I to the Exchequer, about striking new tallies, and I find the Exchequer, by proclamation, removing to Nonesuch.2621 Back again and at my papers, and putting up my books into chests, and settling my house and all things in the best and speediest order I can, lest it should please God to take me away, or force me to leave my house. Late up at it, and weary and full of wind, finding perfectly that so long as I keepe myself in company at meals and do there eat lustily (which I cannot do alone, having no love to eating, but my mind runs upon my business), I am as well as can be, but when I come to be alone, I do not eat in time, nor enough, nor with any good heart, and I immediately begin to be full of wind, which brings my pain, till I come to fill my belly a-days again, then am presently well.
. The office now not sitting, but only hereafter on Thursdays at the office, I within all the morning about my papers and setting things still in order, and also much time in settling matters with Dr. Twisden. At noon am sent for by Sir G. Carteret, to meet him and my Lord Hinchingbroke at Deptford, but my Lord did not come thither, he having crossed the river at Gravesend to Dagenhams, whither I dare not follow him, they being afeard of me; but Sir G. Carteret says, he is a most sweet youth in every circumstance. Sir G. Carteret being in haste of going to the Duke of Albemarle and the Archbishop, he was pettish, and so I could not fasten any discourse, but take another time. So he gone, I down to Greenwich and sent away the Bezan, thinking to go with my wife tonight to come back again tomorrow night to the Sovereign at the buoy off the Nore. Coming back to Deptford, old Bagwell walked a little way with me, and would have me in to his daughter’s, and there he being gone dehors, ego had my volunté desu hiza. Eat and drank and away home, and after a little at the office to my chamber to put more things still in order, and late to bed. The people die so, that now it seems they are fain to carry the dead to be buried by daylight, the nights not sufficing to do it in. And my Lord Mayor commands people to be within at nine at night all, as they say, that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for air. There is one also dead out of one of our ships at Deptford, which troubles us mightily; the Providence fire-ship, which was just fitted to go to sea. But they tell me today no more sick on board. And this day W. Bodham tells me that one is dead at Woolwich, not far from the Rope-yard.2622 I am told, too, that a wife of one of the groomes at Court is dead at Salsbury; so that the King and Queen are speedily to be all gone to Milton.2623 God preserve us!
. Up betimes and to my chamber, it being a very wet day all day, and glad am I that we did not go by water to see The Sovereign2624 today, as I intended, clearing all matters in packing up my papers and books, and giving instructions in writing to my executors, thereby perfecting the whole business of my will, to my very great joy; so that I shall be in much better state of soul, I hope, if it should please the Lord to call me away this sickly time. At night to read, being weary with this day’s great work, and then after supper to bed, to rise betimes tomorrow, and to bed with a mind as free as to the business of the world as if I were not worth £100 in the whole world, everything being evened under my hand in my books and papers, and upon the whole I find myself worth, besides Brampton estate, the sum of £2,164, for which the Lord be praised!
. Up, and my mind being at mighty ease from the dispatch of my business so much yesterday, I down to Deptford to Sir G. Carteret, where with him a great while, and a great deal of private talk concerning my Lord Sandwich’s and his matters, and chiefly of the latter, I giving him great deal of advice about the necessity of his having caution concerning Fenn, and the many ways there are of his being abused by any man in his place, and why he should not bring his son in to look after his business, and more, to be a Commissioner of the Navy, which he listened to and liked, and told me how much the King was his good Master, and was sure not to deny him that or anything else greater than that, and I find him a very cunning man, whatever at other times he seems to be, and among other things he told me he was not for the fanfaroone2625 to make a show with a great title, as he might have had long since, but the main thing to get an estate; and another thing, speaking of minding of business, “By God,” says he, “I will and have already almost brought it to that pass, that the King shall not be able to whip a cat, but I must be at the tail of it.” Meaning so necessary he is, and the King and my Lord Treasurer and all do confess it; which, while I mind my business, is my own case in this office of the Navy, and I hope shall be more, if God give me life and health. Thence by agreement to Sir J. Minnes’s lodgings, where I found my Lord Brouncker, and so by water to the ferry, and there took Sir W. Batten’s coach that was sent for us, and to Sir W. Batten’s, where very merry, good cheer, and up and down the garden with great content to me, and, after dinner, beat Captain Cocke at billiards, won about 8s. of him and my Lord Brouncker. So in the evening after, much pleasure back again and I by water to Woolwich, where supped with my wife, and then to bed betimes, because of rising tomorrow at four of the clock in order to the going out with Sir G. Carteret toward Cranborne to my Lord Hinchingbrooke in his way to Court. This night I did present my wife with the diamond ring, awhile since given me by Mr. Dicke Vines’s brother, for helping him to be a purser, valued at about £10, the first thing of that nature I did ever give her. Great fears we have that the plague will be a great Bill this weeke.
. Up by 4 o’clock and walked to Greenwich, where called at Captain Cocke’s and to his chamber, he being in bed, where something put my last night’s dream into my head, which I think is the best that ever was dreamt, which was that I had my Lady Castlemayne in my armes and was admitted to use all the dalliance I desired with her, and then dreamt that this could not be awake, but that it was only a dream; but that since it was a dream, and that I took so much real pleasure in it, what a happy thing it would be if when we are in our graves (as Shakespeare resembles it) we could dream, and dream but such dreams as this, that then we should not need to be so fearful of death, as we are this plague time. Here I hear that news is brought Sir G. Carteret that my Lord Hinchingbrooke is not well, and so cannot meet us at Cranborne tonight. So I to Sir G. Carteret’s; and there was sorry with him for our disappointment. So we have put off our meeting there till Saturday next. Here I stayed talking with Sir G. Carteret, he being mighty free with me in his business, and among other things hath ordered Rider and Cutler to put into my hands copper to the value of £5,000 (which Sir G. Carteret’s share it seems come to in it), which is to raise part of the money he is to layout for a purchase for my Lady Jemimah. Thence he and I to Sir J. Minnes’s by invitation, where Sir W. Batten and my Lady, and my Lord Brouncker, and all of us dined upon a venison pasty and other good meat, but nothing well dressed. But my pleasure lay in getting some bills signed by Sir G. Carteret, and promise of present payment from Mr. Fenn, which do rejoice my heart, it being one of the heaviest things I had upon me, that so much of the little I have should lie (viz. near £1,000) in the King’s hands. Here very merry and (Sir G. Carteret being gone presently after dinner) to Captain Cocke’s, and there merry, and so broke up and I by water to the Duke of Albemarle, with whom I spoke a great deal in private, they being designed to send a fleet of ships privately to the Streights. No news yet from our fleet, which is much wondered at, but the Duke says for certain guns have been heard to the northward very much. It was dark before I could get home, and so land at Church-yard stairs,2626 where, to my great trouble, I met a dead corpse of the plague, in the narrow alley just bringing down a little pair of stairs. But I thank God I was not much disturbed at it. However, I shall beware of being late abroad again.
. Up, and after doing some necessary business about my accounts at home, to the office, and there with Mr. Hater wrote letters, and I did deliver to him my last will, one part of it to deliver to my wife when I am dead. Thence to the Exchange, where I have not been a great while. But, Lord! how sad a sight it is to see the streets empty of people, and very few upon the ’Change. Jealous of every door that one sees shut up, lest it should be the plague; and about us two shops in three, if not more, generally shut up. From the ’Change to Sir G. Smith’s2627 with Mr. Fenn, to whom I am nowadays very complaisant, he being under payment of my bills to me, and some other sums at my desire, which he readily do. Mighty merry with Captain Cocke and Fenn at Sir G. Smith’s, and a brave dinner, but I think Cocke is the greatest epicure that is, eats and drinks with the greatest pleasure and liberty that ever man did. Very contrary news today upon the ’Change, some that our fleet hath taken some of the Dutch East India ships, others that we did attack it at Bergen and were repulsed, others that our fleet is in great danger after this attack by meeting with the great body now gone out of Holland, almost 100 sail of men of war. Everybody is at a great losse and nobody can tell. Thence among the goldsmiths to get some money, and so home, settling some new money matters, and to my great joy have got home £500 more of the money due to me, and got some more money to help Andrews first advanced. This day I had the ill news from Dagenhams, that my poor lord of Hinchingbroke his indisposition is turned to the smallpox. Poor gentleman! that he should be come from France so soon to fall sick, and of that disease too, when he should be gone to see a fine lady, his mistress. I am most heartily sorry for it. So late setting papers to rights, and so home to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon dined together upon some victuals I had prepared at Sir W. Batten’s upon the King’s charge, and after dinner, I having dispatched some business and set things in order at home, we down to the water and by boat to Greenwich to the Bezan yacht, where Sir W. Batten, Sir J. Minnes, my Lord Brouncker and myself, with some servants (among others Mr. Carcasse,2628 my Lord’s clerk, a very civil gentleman), embarked in the yacht and down we went most pleasantly, and noble discourse I had with my Lord Brouncker, who is a most excellent person. Short of Gravesend it grew calme, and so we come to an anchor, and to supper mighty merry, and after it, being moonshine, we out of the cabin to laugh and talk, and then, as we grew sleepy, went in and upon velvet cushions of the King’s that belong to the yacht fell to sleep, which we all did pretty well till 3 or 4 of the clock, having risen in the night to look for a new comet which is said to have lately shone, but we could see no such thing.
. Up about 5 o’clock and dressed ourselves, and to sail again down to the Sovereign at the buoy of the Nore, a noble ship, now rigged and fitted and manned; we did not stay long, but to enquire after her readiness and thence to Sheerness, where we walked up and down, laying out the ground to be taken in for a yard to lay provisions for cleaning and repairing of ships, and a most proper place it is for the purpose.2629 Thence with great pleasure up the Meadeway, our yacht contending with Commissioner Pett’s, wherein he met us from Chatham, and he had the best of it. Here I come by, but had not tide enough to stop at Quinbrough,2630 a with mighty pleasure spent the day in doing all and seeing these places, which I had never done before. So to the Hill house at Chatham and there dined, and after dinner spent some time discoursing of business. Among others arguing with the Commissioner about his proposing the laying out so much money upon Sheerness, unless it be to the slighting of Chatham yarde, for it is much a better place than Chatham, which however the King is not at present in purse to do, though it were to be wished he were. Thence in Commissioner Pett’s coach (leaving them there). I late in the dark to Gravesend, where great is the plague, and I troubled to stay there so long for the tide. At 10 at night, having supped, I took boat alone, and slept well all the way to the Tower docke about three o’clock in the morning. So knocked up my people, and to bed.
. Slept till 8 o’clock, and then up and met with letters from the King and Lord Arlington, for the removal of our office to Greenwich. I also wrote letters, and made myself ready to go to Sir G. Carteret, at Windsor; and having borrowed a horse of Mr. Blackbrough,2631 sent him to wait for me at the Duke of Albemarle’s door: when, on a sudden, a letter comes to us from the Duke of Albemarle,2632 to tell us that the fleet is all come back to Solebay, and are presently to be dispatched back again. Whereupon I presently by water to the Duke of Albemarle to know what news; and there I saw a letter from my Lord Sandwich to the Duke of Albemarle, and also from Sir W. Coventry and Captain Teddiman; how my Lord having commanded Teddiman with twenty-two ships2633 (of which but fifteen could get thither, and of those fifteen but eight or nine could come up to play) to go to Bergen; where, after several messages to and fro from the Governor of the Castle, urging that Teddiman ought not to come thither with more than five ships, and desiring time to think of it, all the while he suffering the Dutch ships to land their guns to their best advantage; Teddiman on the second pretence, began to play at the Dutch ships (wherof ten East India-men), and in three hours’ time (the town and castle, without any provocation, playing on our ships), they did cut all our cables, so as the wind being off the land, did force us to go out, and rendered our fire-ships useless; without doing anything, but what hurt of course our guns must have done them: we having lost five commanders,2634 besides Mr. Edward Montagu,2635 and Mr. Windham.2636 Our fleet is come home to our great grief with not above five weeks’ dry, and six days’ wet provisions: however, must out again; and the Duke hath ordered the Sovereign, and all other ships ready, to go out to the fleet to strengthen them. This news troubles us all, but cannot be helped. Having read all this news, and received commands of the Duke with great content, he giving me the words which to my great joy he hath several times said to me, that his greatest reliance is upon me. And my Lord Craven also did come out to talk with me, and told me that I am in mighty esteem with the Duke, for which I bless God. Home, and having given my fellow-officers an account hereof, to Chatham, and wrote other letters, I by water to Charing-Cross, to the post-house, and there the people tell me they are shut up; and so I went to the new post-house, and there got a guide and horses to Hounslow, where I was mightily taken with a little girl, the daughter of the master of the house (Betty Gysby), which, if she lives, will make a great beauty. Here I met with a fine fellow who, while I stayed for my horses, did enquire news, but I could not make him remember Bergen in Norway, in 6 or 7 times telling, so ignorant he was. So to Stanes, and there by this time it was dark night, and got a guide who lost his way in the forest, till by help of the moone (which recompenses me for all the pains I ever took about studying of her motions), I led my guide into the way back again; and so we made a man rise that kept a gate, and so he carried us to Cranborne. Where in the dark I perceive an old house new building with a great deal of rubbish, and was fain to go up a ladder to Sir G. Carteret’s chamber. And there in his bed I sat down, and told him all my bad news, which troubled him mightily; but yet we were very merry, and made the best of it; and being myself weary did take leave, and after having spoken with Mr. Fenn2637 in bed, I to bed in my Lady’s chamber that she uses to lie in, and where the Duchess of York, that now is, was born. So to sleep; being very well, but weary, and the better by having carried with me a bottle of strong water; whereof now and then a sip did me good.
. Sir G. Carteret come and walked by my bedside half an houre, talking and telling me how my Lord is in this unblameable in all this ill-success, he having followed orders; and that all ought to be imputed to the falseness of the King of Denmark, who, he told me as a secret, had promised to deliver up the Dutch ships to us, and we expected no less; and swears it will, and will easily, be the ruin of him and his kingdom, if we fall out with him, as we must in honour do; but that all that can be, must be to get the fleet out again to intercept De Witt, who certainly will be coming home with the East India ships, he being gone thither. He being gone, I up and with Fenn, being ready to walk forth to see the place; and I find it to be a very noble seat in a noble forest, with the noblest prospect towards Windsor, and round about over many counties, that can be desired; but otherwise a very melancholy place, and little variety save only trees. I had thoughts of going home by water, and of seeing Windsor Chapel and Castle, but finding at my coming in that Sir G. Carteret did prevent me in speaking for my sudden return to look after business, I did presently eat a bit off the spit about 10 o’clock, and so took horse for Stanes, and thence to Brainford to Mr. Povy’s, the weather being very pleasant to ride in. Mr. Povy not being at home I lost my labour, only eat and drank there with his lady, and told my bad news, and hear the plague is round about them there. So away to Brainford; and there at the inn that goes down to the waterside, I ’light and paid off my post-horses, and so slipped on my shoes, and laid my things by, the tide not serving, and to church, where a dull sermon, and many Londoners. After church to my inn, and eat and drank, and so about seven o’clock by water, and got between nine and ten to Queenhive, very dark. And I could not get my waterman to go elsewhere for fear of the plague. Thence with a lantern, in great fear of meeting of dead corpses, carried to be buried; but, blessed be God, met none, but did see now and then a linke (which is the mark of them) at a distance. So got safe home about 10 o’clock, my people not all abed, and after supper I weary to bed.
. Called up, by message from Lord Brouncker and the rest of my fellows, that they will meet me at the Duke of Albemarle’s this morning; so I up, and weary, however, got thither before them, and spoke with my Lord, and with him and other gentlemen to walk in the Park, where, I perceive, he spends much of his time, having no whither else to go; and here I hear him speake of some Presbyter people that he caused to be apprehended yesterday, at a private meeting in Covent Garden, which he would have released upon paying £5 per man to the poor, but it was answered, they would not pay anything; so he ordered them to another prison from the guard. By and by comes my fellow-officers, and the Duke walked in, and to counsel with us; and that being done we departed, and Sir W. Batten and I to the office, where, after I had done a little business, I to his house to dinner, whither comes Captain Cocke, for whose epicurisme a dish of partridges was sent for, and still gives me reason to think is the greatest epicure in the world. Thence, after dinner, I by water to Sir W. Warren’s and with him two hours, talking of things to his and my profit, and particularly good advice from him what use to make of Sir G. Carteret’s kindness to me and my interest in him, with exceeding good cautions for me not using it too much nor obliging him to fear by prying into his secrets, which it were easy for me to do. Thence to my Lord Brouncker, at Greenwich, and Sir J. Minnes by appointment, to looke after the lodgings appointed for us there for our office, which do by no means please me, they being in the heart of all the labourers and workmen there, which makes it as unsafe as to be, I think, at London. Mr. Hugh May, who is a most ingenuous man, did show us the lodgings, and his acquaintance I am desirous of. Thence walked, it being now dark, to Sir J. Minnes’s, and there stayed at the door talking with him an hour while messengers went to get a boat for me, to carry me to Woolwich, but all to no purpose; so I was forced to walk it in the dark, at ten o’clock at night, with Sir J. Minnes’s George with me, being mightily troubled for fear of the dogs at Coome farme, and more for fear of rogues by the way, and yet more because of the plague which is there, which is very strange, it being a single house, all alone from the town, but it seems they use to admit beggars, for their own safety, to lie in their barns, and they brought it to them; but I bless God I got about eleven of the clock well to my wife, and giving 4s. in recompence to George, I to my wife, and having first viewed her last piece of drawing since I saw her, which is seven or eight days, which pleases me beyond anything in the world, to bed with great content but weary.
. Up, and after much pleasant talk and being importuned by my wife and her two maids, which are both good wenches, for me to buy a necklace of pearle for her, and I promising to give her one of £60 in two years at furthest, and in less if she pleases me in her painting, I went away and walked to Greenwich, in my way seeing a coffin with a dead body therein, dead of the plague, lying in an open close belonging to Coome farme, which was carried out last night, and the parish have not appointed anybody to bury it; but only set a watch there day and night, that nobody should go thither or come thence, which is a most cruel thing: this disease making us more cruel to one another than if we are dogs. So to the King’s House, and there met my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes, and to our lodgings again that are appointed for us, which do please me better to day than last night, and are set a doing. Thence I to Deptford, where by appointment I find Mr. Andrews come, and to the Globe, where we dined together and did much business as to our Plymouth gentlemen; and after a good dinner and good discourse, he being a very good man, I think verily, we parted and I to the King’s yard, walked up and down, and by and by out at the back gate, and there saw the Bagwell’s wife’s mother and daughter, and went to them, and went in to the daughter’s house with the mother, and faciebam le cose que ego tenebam a mind to con elle, and drinking and talking, by and by away, and so walked to Redriffe, troubled to go through the little lane, where the plague is, but did and took water and home, where all well; but Mr. Andrews not coming to even accounts, as I expected, with relation to something of my own profit, I was vexed that I could not settle to business, but home to my viol, though in the evening he did come to my satisfaction. So after supper (he being gone first) I to settle my journal and to bed.
. Up, and whereas I had appointed Mr. Hater and Will to come betimes to the office to meet me about business there, I was called upon as soon as ready by Mr. Andrews to my great content, and he and I to our Tangier accounts, where I settled, to my great joy, all my accounts with him, and, which is more, cleared for my service to the contractors since the last sum I received of them, £222 13s. profit to myself, and received the money actually in the afternoon. After he was gone comes by a pretence of mine yesterday old Delks the waterman, with his daughter Robins, and several times to and again, he leaving her with me, about the getting of his son Robins off, who was pressed yesterday again. … All the afternoon at my office mighty busy writing letters, and received a very kind and good one from my Lord Sandwich of his arrival with the fleet at Solebay, and the joy he has at my last news he met with, of the marriage of my Lady Jemimah; and he tells me more, the good news that all our ships, which were in such danger that nobody would insure upon them, from the Eastland,2638 were all safe arrived, which I am sure is a great piece of good luck, being in much more danger than those of Hambrough which were lost, and their value much greater at this time to us. At night home, much contented with this day’s work, and being at home alone looking over my papers, comes a neighbour of ours hard by to speak with me about business of the office, one Mr. Fuller, a great merchant, but not my acquaintance, but he come drunk, and would have had me gone and drunk with him at home, or have let him send for wine hither, but I would do neither, nor offered him any, but after some sorry discourse parted, and I up to [my] chamber and to bed.
. Up betimes to my office, where my clerks with me, and very busy all the morning writing letters. At noon down to Sir J. Minnes and Lord Brouncker to Greenwich to sign some of the Treasurer’s books, and there dined very well; and thence to look upon our rooms again at the King’s house, which are not yet ready for us. So home and late writing letters, and so, weary with business, home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes to the office, and there, as well as all the afternoon, saving a little dinner time, all alone till late at night writing letters and doing business, that I may get beforehand with my business again, which hath run behind a great while, and then home to supper and to bed. This day I am told that Dr. Burnett,2639 my physician, is this morning dead of the plague; which is strange, his man dying so long ago, and his house this month open again. Now himself dead. Poor unfortunate man!
. Up betimes, and prepared to my great satisfaction an account for the board of my office disbursements, which I had suffered to run on to almost £120. That done I down by water to Greenwich, where we met the first day my Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I, and I think we shall do well there, and begin very auspiciously to me by having my account abovesaid passed, and put into a way of having it presently paid. When we rose I find Mr. Andrews and Mr. Yeabsly, who is just come from Plymouth, at the door, and we walked together toward my Lord Brunker’s, talking about their business, Yeabsly being come up on purpose to discourse with me about it, and finished all in a quarter of an hour, and is gone again. I perceive they have some inclination to be going on with their victualling-business for a while longer before they resign it to Mr. Gauden, and I am well contented, for it brings me very good profit with certainty, yet with much care and some pains. We parted at my Lord Brouncker’s door, where I went in, having never been there before, and there he made a noble entertainment for Sir J. Minnes, myself, and Captain Cocke, none else saving some painted lady that dined there, I know not who she is.2640 But very merry we were, and after dinner into the garden, and to see his and her chamber, where some good pictures, and a very handsome young woman for my lady’s woman. Thence I by water home, in my way seeing a man taken up dead, out of the hold of a small catch that lay at Deptford. I doubt it might be the plague, which, with the thought of Dr. Burnett, did something disturb me, so that I did not what I intended and should have done at the office, as to business, but home sooner than ordinary, and after supper, to read melancholy alone, and then to bed.
. Very well in the morning, and up and to my chamber all the morning to put my things and papers yet more in order, and so to dinner. Thence all the afternoon at my office till late making up my papers and letters there into a good condition of order, and so home to supper, and after reading a good while in the King’s works2641 which is a noble book, to bed.
. Up, and being ready I out to Mr. Colvill, the goldsmith’s, having not for some days been in the streets; but now how few people I see, and those looking like people that had taken leave of the world. I there, and made even all accounts in the world between him and I, in a very good condition, and I would have done the like with Sir Robert Viner, but he is out of town, the sickness being everywhere thereabouts. I to the Exchange, and I think there was not fifty people upon it, and but few more like to be as they told me, Sir G. Smith and others. Thus I think to take adieu today of the London streets, unless it be to go again to Viner’s. Home to dinner, and there W. Hewer brings me £119 he hath received for my office disbursements, so that I think I have £1,800 and more in the house, and, blessed be God! no money out but what I can very well command and that but very little, which is much the best posture I ever was in in my life, both as to the quantity and the certainty I have of the money I am worth; having most of it in my own hand. But then this is a trouble to me what to do with it, being myself this day going to be wholly at Woolwich; but for the present I am resolved to venture it in an iron chest, at least for a while. In the afternoon I sent down my boy to Woolwich with some things before me, in order to my lying there for good and all, and so I followed him. Just now comes news that the fleet is gone, or going this day, out again, for which God be praised! and my Lord Sandwich hath done himself great right in it, in getting so soon out again. I pray God, he may meet the enemy. Towards the evening, just as I was fitting myself, comes W. Hewer and shows me a letter which Mercer had wrote to her mother about a great difference between my wife and her yesterday, and that my wife will have her go away presently. This, together with my natural jealousy that some bad thing or other may be in the way, did trouble me exceedingly, so as I was in a doubt whether to go thither or no, but having fitted myself and my things I did go, and by night got thither, where I met my wife walking to the waterside with her paynter, Mr. Browne, and her maids. There I met Commissioner Pett, and my Lord Brunker, and the lady at his house had been there today, to see her. Commissioner Pett stayed a very little while, and so I to supper with my wife and Mr. Shelden, and so to bed with great pleasure.
. In the morning waking, among other discourse my wife begun to tell me the difference between her and Mercer, and that it was only from restraining her to gad abroad to some Frenchmen that were in the town, which I do not wholly yet in part believe, and for my quiet would not enquire into it. So rose and dressed myself, and away by land walking a good way, then remembered that I had promised Commissioner Pett to go with him in his coach, and therefore I went back again to him, and so by his coach to Greenwich, and called at Sir Theophilus Biddulph’s,2642 a sober, discreet man, to discourse of the preventing of the plague in Greenwich, and Woolwich, and Deptford, where in every place it begins to grow very great. We appointed another meeting, and so walked together to Greenwich and there parted, and Pett and I to the office, where all the morning, and after office done I to Sir J. Minnes and dined with him, and thence to Deptford thinking to have seen Bagwell, but did not, and so straight to Redriffe, and home, and late at my business to dispatch away letters, and then home to bed, which I did not intend, but to have stayed for altogether at Woolwich, but I made a shift for a bed for Tom, whose bed is gone to Woolwich, and so to bed.
. Up betimes and to my business of settling my house and papers, and then abroad and met with Hadley, our clerke, who, upon my asking how the plague goes, he told me it increases much, and much in our parish; for, says he, there died nine this week, though I have returned but six: which is a very ill practice, and makes me think it is so in other places; and therefore the plague much greater than people take it to be. Thence, as I intended, to Sir R. Viner’s, and there found not Mr. Lewes ready for me, so I went forth and walked towards Moorefields to see (God forbid my presumption!) whether I could see any dead corpse going to the grave; but, as God would have it, did not. But, Lord! how everybody’s looks, and discourse in the street is of death, and nothing else, and few people going up and down, that the town is like a place distressed and forsaken. After one turne there back to Viner’s, and there found my business ready for me, and evened all reckonings with them to this day to my great content. So home, and all day till very late at night setting my Tangier and private accounts in order, which I did in both, and in the latter to my great joy do find myself yet in the much best condition that ever I was in, finding myself worth £2,180 and odd, besides plate and goods, which I value at £250 more, which is a very great blessing to me. The Lord make me thankful! and of this at this day above £1,800 in cash in my house, which speaks but little out of my hands in desperate condition, but this is very troublesome to have in my house at this time. So late to bed, well pleased with my accounts, but weary of being so long at them.
. Up and, after putting several things in order to my removal, to Woolwich; the plague having a great increase this week, beyond all expectation of almost 2,000, making the general Bill 7,000, odd 100; and the plague above 6,000. I down by appointment to Greenwich, to our office, where I did some business, and there dined with our company and Sir W. Boreman, and Sir The. Biddulph, at Mr. Boreman’s, where a good venison pasty, and after a good merry dinner I to my office, and there late writing letters, and then to Woolwich by water, where pleasant with my wife and people, and after supper to bed. Thus this month ends with great sadness upon the public, through the greatness of the plague everywhere through the kingdom almost. Every day sadder and sadder news of its increase. In the City died this week 7,496 and of them 6,102 of the plague. But it is feared that the true number of the dead, this week is near 10,000; partly from the poor that cannot be taken notice of, through the greatness of the number, and partly from the Quakers and others that will not have any bell ring for them. Our fleet gone out to find the Dutch, we having about 100 sail in our fleet, and in them the Sovereign one; so that it is a better fleet than the former with the Duke was. All our fear is that the Dutch should be got in before them; which would be a very great sorrow to the public, and to me particularly, for my Lord Sandwich’s sake. A great deal of money being spent, and the kingdom not in a condition to spare, nor a parliament without much difficulty to meet to give more. And to that; to have it said, what hath been done by our late fleetes? As to myself I am very well, only in fear of the plague, and as much of an ague by being forced to go early and late to Woolwich, and my family to lie there continually. My late gettings have been very great to my great content, and am likely to have yet a few more profitable jobbs in a little while; for which Tangier, and Sir W. Warren I am wholly obliged to.
September 1665
. Up, and to visit my Lady Penn and her daughter at the Ropeyarde where I did breakfast with them and sat chatting a good while. Then to my lodging at Mr. Shelden’s, where I met Captain Cocke and eat a little bit of dinner, and with him to Greenwich by water, having good discourse with him by the way. After being at Greenwich a little while, I to London, to my house, there put many more things in order for my totall remove, sending away my girl Susan and other goods down to Woolwich, and I by water to the Duke of Albemarle, and thence home late by water. At the Duke of Albemarle’s I overheard some examinations of the late plot that is discoursed of and a great deal of do there is about it. Among other discourses, I heard read, in the presence of the Duke, an examination and discourse of Sir Philip Howard’s,2643 with one of the plotting party. In many places these words being, “Then,” said Sir P. Howard, “if you so come over to the King, and be faithful to him, you shall be maintained, and be set up with a horse and armes,” and I know not what. And then said such a one, “Yes, I will be true to the King.” “But, damn me,” said Sir Philip, “will you so-and-so?” And thus I believe twelve times Sir P. Howard answered him a “damn me,” which was a fine way of rhetoric to persuade a Quaker or Anabaptist from his persuasion. And this was read in the hearing of Sir P. Howard, before the Duke and twenty more officers, and they make sport of it, only without any reproach, or he being anything ashamed of it.2644 But it ended, I remember, at last, “But such a one (the plotter) did at last bid them remember that he had not told them what King he would be faithful to.”
. This morning I wrote letters to Mr. Hill and Andrews to come to dine with me tomorrow, and then I to the office, where busy, and thence to dine with Sir J. Minnes, where merry, but only that Sir J. Minnes who hath lately lost two coach horses, dead in the stable, has a third now a dying. After dinner I to Deptford, and there took occasion to entrar à la casa de la gunaica de ma Minusier, and did what I had a mind … To Greenwich, where wrote some letters, and home in pretty good time.
. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit very fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any haire, for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off of the heads of people dead of the plague. Before church time comes Mr. Hill (Mr. Andrews failing because he was to receive the Sacrament), and to church, where a sorry dull parson, and so home and most excellent company with Mr. Hill and discourse of music. I took my Lady Penn home, and her daughter Pegg, and merry we were; and after dinner I made my wife show them her pictures, which did mad Pegg Penn, who learns of the same man and cannot do so well.2645 After dinner left them and I by water to Greenwich, where much ado to be suffered to come into the town because of the sickness, for fear I should come from London, till I told them who I was. So up to the church, where at the door I find Captain Cocke in my Lord Brunker’s coach, and he come out and walked with me in the church-yarde till the church was done, talking of the ill government of our Kingdom, nobody setting to heart the business of the Kingdom, but everybody minding their particular profit or pleasures, the King himself minding nothing but his ease, and so we let things go to rack. This arose upon considering what we shall do for money when the fleet comes in, and more if the fleet should not meet with the Dutch, which will put a disgrace upon the King’s actions, so as the Parliament and Kingdom will have the less mind to give more money, besides so bad an account of the last money,2646 we fear, will be given, not half of it being spent, as it ought to be, upon the Navy. Besides, it is said that at this day our Lord Treasurer cannot tell what the profit of Chimney money is, what it comes to per annum, nor looks whether that or any other part of the revenue be duly gathered as it ought; the very money that should pay the City the £200,000 they lent the King, being all gathered and in the hands of the Receiver and hath been long and yet not brought up to pay the City, whereas we are coming to borrow 4 or £500,000 more of the City, which will never be lent as is to be feared. Church being done, my Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I up to the Vestry at the desire of the justices of the Peace, Sir Theo. Biddulph and Sir W. Boreman and Alderman Hooker,2647 in order to the doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing; but Lord! to consider the madness of the people of the town, who will (because they are forbid) come in crowds along with the dead corpse to see them buried; but we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof. Among other stories, one was very passionate, methought, of a complaint brought against a man in the town for taking a child from London from an infected house. Alderman Hooker told us it was the child of a very able citizen in Gracious Street, a saddler, who had buried all the rest of his children of the plague, and himself and wife now being shut up and in despair of escaping, did desire only to save the life of this little child; and so prevailed to have it received stark-naked into the arms of a friend, who brought it (having put it into new fresh clothes) to Greenwich; where upon hearing the story, we did agree it should be permitted to be received and kept in the town. Thence with my Lord Brouncker to Captain Cocke’s, where we mighty merry and supped, and very late I by water to Woolwich, in great apprehensions of an ague. Here was my Lord Brouncker’s lady of pleasure, who, I perceive, goes everywhere with him; and he, I find, is obliged to carry her, and make all the courtship to her that can be.
. Writing letters all the morning, among others to my Lady Carteret, the first I have wrote to her, telling her the state of the city as to health and other sorrowful stories, and thence after dinner to Greenwich, to Sir J. Minnes, where I found my Lord Brouncker, and having stayed our hour for the justices by agreement, the time being past we to walk in the Park with Mr. Hammond and Turner, and there eat some fruit out of the King’s garden and walked in the Park, and so back to Sir J. Minnes, and thence walked home, my Lord Brouncker giving me a very neat cane to walk with; but it troubled me to pass by Coome farme where about twenty-one people have died of the plague, and three or four days since I saw a dead corpse in a coffin lie in the Close unburied, and a watch is constantly kept there night and day to keep the people in, the plague making us cruel, as dogs, one to another.
. Up, and walked with some Captains and others talking to me to Greenwich, they crying out upon Captain Teddiman’s management of the business of Bergen, that he stayed treating too long while he saw the Dutch fitting themselves, and that at first he might have taken every ship, and done what he would with them. How true I cannot tell. Here we sat very late and for want of money, which lies heavy upon us, did nothing of business almost. Thence home with my Lord Brouncker to dinner where very merry with him and his doxy. After dinner comes Colonel Blunt in his new chariot made with springs;2648 as that was of wicker, wherein a while since we rode at his house. And he hath rode, he says, now this journey, many miles in it with one horse, and out-drives any coach, and outgoes any horse, and so easy, he says. So for curiosity I went into it to try it, and up the hill2649 to the heath, and over the cart-rutts and found it pretty well, but not so easy as he pretends, and so back again, and took leave of my Lord and drove myself in the chariot to the office, and there ended my letters and home pretty betimes and there found W. Penn, and he stayed supper with us and mighty merry talking of his travells and the French humours, etc., and so parted and to bed.
. Busy all the morning writing letters to several, so to dinner, to London, to pack up more things thence; and there I looked into the street and saw fires burning in the street, as it is through the whole City, by the Lord Mayor’s order. Thence by water to the Duke of Albemarle’s: all the way fires on each side of the Thames, and strange to see in broad daylight two or three burials upon the Bankeside, one at the very heels of another: doubtless all of the plague; and yet at least forty or fifty people going along with every one of them. The Duke mighty pleasant with me; telling me that he is certainly informed that the Dutch were not come home upon the 1st instant, and so he hopes our fleet may meet with them, and here to my great joy I got him to sign bills for the several sums I have paid on Tangier business by his single letter, and so now I can get more hands to them. This was a great joy to me: Home to Woolwich late by water, found wife in bed, and yet late as [it] was to write letters in order to my rising betimes to go to Povy tomorrow. So to bed, my wife asking me tonight about a letter of hers I should find, which indeed Mary did the other day give me as if she had found it in my bed, thinking it had been mine, brought to her from a man without name owning great kindness to her and I know not what. But looking it over seriously, and seeing it bad sense and ill writ, I did believe it to be her brother’s and so had flung it away, but finding her now concerned at it and vexed with Mary about it, it did trouble me, but I would take no notice of it tonight, but fell to sleep as if angry.
. Up by 5 of the clock, mighty full of fear of an ague, but was obliged to go, and so by water, wrapping myself up warm, to the Tower, and there sent for the Weekely Bill, and find 8,252 dead in all, and of them 6,878 of the plague; which is a most dreadful number, and shows reason to fear that the plague hath got that hold that it will yet continue among us. Thence to Brainford, reading The Villaine, a pretty good play, all the way. There a coach of Mr. Povy’s stood ready for me, and he at his house ready to come in, and so we together merrily to Swakely,2650 Sir R. Viner’s. A very pleasant place, bought by him of Sir James Harrington’s lady. He took us up and down with great respect, and showed us all his house and grounds; and it is a place not very moderne in the garden nor house, but the most uniforme in all that ever I saw; and some things to excess. Pretty to see over the screene of the hall (put up by Sir J. Harrington, a Long Parliamentman) the King’s head, and my Lord of Essex on one side, and Fairfax on the other; and upon the other side of the screene, the parson of the parish, and the lord of the manor and his sisters. The window-cases, door-cases, and chimneys of all the house are marble. He showed me a black boy that he had, that died of a consumption, and being dead, he caused him to be dried in an oven, and lies there entire in a box. By and by to dinner, where his lady I find yet handsome, but hath been a very handsome woman;2651 now is old. Hath brought him near £100,000 and now he lives, no man in England in greater plenty, and commands both King and Council with his credit he gives them. Here was a fine lady a merchant’s wife at dinner with us, and who should be here in the quality of a woman but Mrs. Worship’s daughter, Dr. Clerke’s niece, and after dinner Sir Robert led us up to his long gallery, very fine, above stairs (and better, or such, furniture I never did see), and there Mrs. Worship did give us three or four very good songs, and sings very neatly, to my great delight. After all this, and ending the chief business to my content about getting a promise of some money of him, we took leave, being exceedingly well treated here, and a most pleasant journey we had back, Povy and I, and his company most excellent in anything but business, he here giving me an account of as many persons at Court as I had a mind or thought of enquiring after. He tells me by a letter he showed me, that the King is not, nor hath been of late, very well, but quite out of humour; and, as some think, in a consumption, and weary of everything. He showed me my Lord Arlington’s house2652 that he was born in, in a town called Harlington:2653 and so carried me through a most pleasant country to Brainford, and there put me into my boat, and good night. So I wrapped myself warm, and by water got to Woolwich about one in the morning, my wife and all in bed.
. Waked, and fell in talk with my wife about the letter, and she satisfied me that she did not know from whence it come, but believed it might be from her cousin Franke Moore lately come out of France. The truth is the thing I think cannot have much in it, and being unwilling (being in other things so much at ease) to vex myself in a strange place at a melancholy time, passed all by and were presently friends. Up, and several with me about business. Anon comes my Lord Brouncker, as I expected, and we to the enquiring into the business of the late desertion of the Shipwrights from worke, who had left us for three days together for want of money, and upon this all the morning, and brought it to a pretty good issue, that they, we believe, will come tomorrow to work. To dinner, having but a mean one, yet sufficient for him, and he well enough pleased, besides that I do not desire to vie entertainments with him or any else. Here was Captain Cocke also, and Mr. Wayth. We stayed together talking upon one business or other all the afternoon. In the evening my Lord Brouncker hearing that Mr. Ackeworth’s clerke, the Dutchman who writes and draws so well, was transcribing a book of Rates and our ships for Captain Millet a gallant of his mistress’s, we sent for him for it. He would not deliver it, but said it was his mistress’s and had delivered it to her. At last we were forced to send to her for it; she would come herself, and indeed the book was a very neat one and worth keeping as a rarity, but we did think fit, and though much against my will, to cancell all that he had finished of it, and did give her the rest, which vexed her, and she bore it discreetly enough, but with a cruel deal of malicious rancour in her looks. I must confess I would have persuaded her to have let us have it to the office, and it may be the board would not have censured too hardly of it, but my intent was to have had it as a Record for the office, but she foresaw what would be the end of it and so desired it might rather be cancelled, which was a plaguy deal of spite. My Lord Brouncker being gone and company, and she also, afterwards I took my wife and people and walked into the fields about a while till night, and then home, and so to sing a little and then to bed. I was in great trouble all this day for my boy Tom who went to Greenwich yesterday by my order and come not home till tonight for fear of the plague, but he did come home tonight, saying he stayed last night by Mr. Hater’s advice hoping to have me called as I come home with my boat to come along with me.
. Up and walked to Greenwich, and there we sat and dispatched a good deal of business I had a mind to. At noon, by invitation, to my Lord Brouncker’s, all of us, to dinner, where a good venison pasty, and mighty merry. Here was Sir W. Doyly,2654 lately come from Ipswich about the sicke and wounded, and Mr. Evelyn and Captain Cocke. My wife also was sent for by my Lord Brouncker, by Cocke, and was here. After dinner, my Lord and his mistress would see her home again, it being a most cursed rainy afternoon, having had none a great while before, and I, forced to go to the office on foot through all the rain, was almost wet to my skin, and spoiled my silke breeches almost. Rained all the afternoon and evening, so as my letters being done, I was forced to get a bed at Captain Cocke’s, where I find Sir W. Doyly, and he, and Evelyn at supper; and I with them full of discourse of the neglect of our masters, the great officers of State, about all business, and especially that of money: having now some thousands prisoners, kept to no purpose at a great charge, and no money provided almost for the doing of it. We fell to talk largely of the want of some persons understanding to look after businesses, but all goes to rack. “For,” says Captain Cocke, “my Lord Treasurer, he minds his ease, and lets things go how they will: if he can have his £8,000 per annum, and a game at l’ombre2655 he is well. My Lord Chancellor he minds getting of money and nothing else; and my Lord Ashly will rob the Devil and the Alter, but he will get money if it be to be got.” But that that put us into this great melancholy, was news brought today, which Captain Cocke reports as a certain truth, that all the Dutch fleet, men-of-war and merchant East India ships, are got every one in from Bergen the 3rd of this month, Sunday last; which will make us all ridiculous. The fleet come home with shame to require a great deal of money, which is not to be had, to discharge many men that must get the plague then or continue at greater charge on shipboard, nothing done by them to encourage the Parliament to give money, nor the Kingdom able to spare any money, if they would, at this time of the plague, so that, as things look at present, the whole state must come to ruin. Full of these melancholy thoughts, to bed; where, though I lay the softest I ever did in my life, with a down bed,2656 after the Danish manner, upon me, yet I slept very ill, chiefly through the thoughts of my Lord Sandwich’s concernment in all this ill success at sea.
. Walked home; being forced thereto by one of my watermen falling sick yesterday, and it was God’s great mercy I did not go by water with them yesterday, for he fell sick on Saturday night, and it is to be feared of the plague. So I sent him away to London with his fellow; but another boat come to me this morning, whom I sent to Blackewall for Mr. Andrews. I walked to Woolwich, and there find Mr. Hill, and he and I all the morning at music and a song he hath set of three parts, methinks, very good. Anon comes Mr. Andrews, though it be a very ill day, and so after dinner we to music and sang till about 4 or 5 o’clock, it blowing very hard, and now and then raining, and wind and tide being against us, Andrews and I took leave and walked to Greenwich. My wife before I come out telling me the ill news that she hears that her father is very ill, and then I told her I feared of the plague, for that the house is shut up. And so she much troubled she did desire me to send them something; and I said I would, and will do so. But before I come out there happened news to come to me by an express from Mr. Coventry, telling me the most happy news of my Lord Sandwich’s meeting with part of the Dutch; his taking two of their East India ships, and six or seven others, and very good prizes:2657 and that he is in search of the rest of the fleet, which he hopes to find upon the Wellbancke, with the loss only of the Hector,2658 poor Captain Cuttle. This news do so overjoy me that I know not what to say enough to express it, but the better to do it I did walk to Greenwich, and there sending away Mr. Andrews, I to Captain Cocke’s, where I find my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, and Sir J. Minnes. Where we supped (there was also Sir W. Doyly and Mr. Evelyn); but the receipt of this news did put us all into such an extacy of joy, that it inspired into Sir J. Minnes and Mr. Evelyn such a spirit of mirth, that in all my life I never met with so merry a two hours as our company this night was. Among other humours, Mr. Evelyn’s repeating of some verses made up of nothing but the various acceptations of may and can, and doing it so aptly upon occasion of something of that nature, and so fast, did make us all die almost with laughing, and did so stop the mouth of Sir J. Minnes in the middle of all his mirth (and in a thing agreeing with his own manner of genius), that I never saw any man so outdone in all my life; and Sir J. Minnes’s mirth too to see himself outdone, was the crown of all our mirth. In this humour we sat till about ten at night, and so my Lord and his mistress home, and we to bed, it being one of the times of my life wherein I was the fullest of true sense of joy.
. Up and walked to the office, there to do some business till ten of the clock, and then by agreement my Lord, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Doyly, and I took boat and over to the ferry, where Sir W. Batten’s coach was ready for us, and to Walthamstow drove merrily, excellent merry discourse in the way, and most upon our last night’s revells; there come we were very merry, and a good plain venison dinner. After dinner to billiards, where I won an angel,2659 and among other sports we were merry with my pretending to have a warrant to Sir W. Hickes2660 (who was there, and was out of humour with Sir W. Doyly’s having lately got a warrant for a leash of buckes, of which we were now eating one) which vexed him, and at last would compound with me to give my Lord Brouncker half a buck now, and me a Doe for it a while hence when the season comes in, which we agreed to and had held, but that we fear Sir W. Doyly did betray our design, which spoiled all; however, my Lady Batten invited herself to dine with him this week, and she invited us all to dine with her there, which we agreed to, only to vex him, he being the most niggardly fellow, it seems, in the world. Full of good victuals and mirth we set homeward in the evening, and very merry all the way. So to Greenwich, where when come I find my Lord Rutherford and Creed come from Court, and among other things have brought me several orders for money to pay for Tangier; and, among the rest £7,000 and more, to this Lord, which is an excellent thing to consider, that, though they can do nothing else, they can give away the King’s money upon their progress. I did give him the best answer I could to pay him with tallies, and that is all they could get from me. I was not in humour to spend much time with them, but walked a little before Sir J. Minnes’s door and then took leave, and I by water to Woolwich, where with my wife to a game at tables,2661 and to bed.
. Up, and walked to the office, where we sat late, and thence to dinner home with Sir J. Minnes, and so to the office, where writing letters, and home in the evening, where my wife shows me a letter from her brother speaking of their father’s being ill, like to die, which, God forgive me! did not trouble me so much as it should, though I was indeed sorry for it. I did presently resolve to send him something in a letter from my wife, viz. 20s. So to bed.
. Up, and walked to Greenwich, taking pleasure to walk with my minute watch in my hand, by which I am come now to see the distances of my way from Woolwich to Greenwich, and do find myself to come within two minutes constantly to the same place at the end of each quarter of an houre. Here we rendezvoused at Captain Cocke’s, and there eat oysters, and so my Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I took boat, and in my Lord’s coach to Sir W. Hickes’s, whither by and by my Lady Batten and Sir William comes. It is a good seat, with a fair grove of trees by it, and the remains of a good garden; but so let to run to ruin, both house and everything in and about it, so ill furnished and miserably looked after, I never did see in all my life. Not so much as a latch to his dining room door; which saved him nothing, for the wind blowing into the room for want thereof, flung down a great bow pot that stood upon the side-table, and that fell upon some Venice glasses, and did him a crown’s worth of hurt. He did give us the meanest dinner (of beef, shoulder and umbles of venison2662 which he takes away from the keeper of the Forest,2663 and a few pigeons, and all in the meanest manner) that ever I did see, to the basest degree. After dinner we officers of the Navy stepped aside to read some letters and consider some business, and so in again. I was only pleased at a very fine picture of the Queen-Mother, when she was young, by Van-Dike; a very good picture, and a lovely sweet face. Thence in the afternoon home, and landing at Greenwich I saw Mr. Penn walking my way, so we walked together, and for discourse I put him into talk of France, when he took delight to tell me of his observations, some good, some impertinent, and all ill told, but it served for want of better, and so to my house, where I find my wife abroad, and hath been all this day, nobody knows where, which troubled me, it being late and a cold evening. So being invited to his mother’s to supper, we took Mrs. Barbara,2664 who was mighty finely dressed, and in my Lady’s coach, which we met going for my wife, we thither, and there after some discourse went to supper. By and by comes my wife and Mercer, and had been with Captain Cocke all day, he coming and taking her out to go see his boy at school at Brumly [Bromley], and brought her home again with great respect. Here pretty merry, only I had no stomach, having dined late, to eat. After supper Mr. Penn and I fell to discourse about some words in a French song my wife was saying, “D’un air tout interdict,” wherein I laid twenty to one against him which he would not agree with me, though I know myself in the right as to the sense of the word, and almost angry we were, and were an houre and more upon the dispute, till at last broke up not satisfied, and so home in their coach and so to bed. H. Russell did this day deliver my 20s. to my wife’s father or mother, but has not yet told us how they do.
. Up, and walked to Greenwich, and there fitted myself in several businesses to go to London, where I have not been now a pretty while. But before I went from the office news is brought by word of mouth that letters are now just now brought from the fleet of our taking a great many more of the Dutch fleet, in which I did never more plainly see my command of my temper in my not admitting myself to receive any kind of joy from it till I had heard the certainty of it, and therefore went by water directly to the Duke of Albemarle, where I find a letter of the 12th from Solebay, from my Lord Sandwich, of the fleet’s meeting with about eighteen more of the Dutch fleet, and his taking of most of them; and the messenger says, they had taken three after the letter was wrote and sealed; which being twenty-one, and the fourteen took the other day, is forty-five2665 sail; some of which are good, and others rich ships, which is so great a cause of joy in us all that my Lord and everybody is highly joyed thereat. And having taken a copy of my Lord’s letter, I away back again to the Beare at the Bridge foot, being full of wind and out of order, and there called for a biscuit and a piece of cheese and gill of sacke, being forced to walk over the Bridge, toward the ’Change, and the plague being all thereabouts. Here my news was highly welcome, and I did wonder to see the ’Change so full, I believe 200 people; but not a man or merchant of any fashion, but plain men all. And Lord! to see how I did endeavour all I could to talk with as few as I could, there being now no observation of shutting up of houses infected, that to be sure we do converse and meet with people that have the plague upon them. I to Sir Robert Viner’s, where my main business was about settling the business of Debusty’s £5,000 tallies, which I did for the present to enable me to have some money, and so home, buying some things for my wife in the way. So home, and put up several things to carry to Woolwich, and upon serious thoughts I am advised by W. Griffin to let my money and plate rest there, as being as safe as any place, nobody imagining that people would leave money in their houses now, when all their families are gone. So for the present that being my opinion, I did leave them there still. But, Lord! to see the trouble that it puts a man to, to keep safe what with pain a man hath been getting together, and there is good reason for it. Down to the office, and there wrote letters to and again about this good news of our victory, and so by water home late. Where, when I come home I spent some thoughts upon the occurrences of this day, giving matter for as much content on one hand and melancholy on another, as any day in all my life. For the first; the finding of my money and plate, and all safe at London, and speeding in my business of money this day. The hearing of this good news to such excess, after so great a despair of my Lord’s doing anything this year; adding to that, the decrease of 500 and more, which is the first decrease we have yet had in the sickness since it begun: and great hopes that the next week it will be greater. Then, on the other side, my finding that though the Bill in general is abated, yet the City within the walls is increased, and likely to continue so, and is close to our house there. My meeting dead corpses of the plague, carried to be buried close to me at noonday through the City in Fenchurch Street. To see a person sick of the sores, carried close by me by Gracechurch in a hackney-coach. My finding the Angell tavern,2666 at the lower end of Tower-hill, shut up, and more than that, the alehouse at the Tower-stairs, and more than that, the person was then dying of the plague when I was last there, a little while ago, at night, to write a short letter there, and I overheard the mistress of the house sadly saying to her husband somebody was very ill, but did not think it was of the plague. To hear that poor Payne, my waiter, hath buried a child, and is dying himself. To hear that a labourer I sent but the other day to Dagenhams, to know how they did there, is dead of the plague; and that one of my own watermen, that carried me daily, fell sick as soon as he had landed me on Friday morning last, when I had been all night upon the water (and I believe he did get his infection that day at Brainford), and is now dead of the plague. To hear that Captain Lambert and Cuttle2667 are killed in the taking these ships; and that Mr. Sidney Montague2668 is sick of a desperate fever at my Lady Carteret’s, at Scott’s-hall. To hear that Mr. Lewes hath another daughter sick. And, lastly, that both my servants, W. Hewer and Tom Edwards, have lost their fathers, both in St. Sepulchre’s parish, of the plague this week, do put me into great apprehensions of melancholy, and with good reason. But I put off the thoughts of sadness as much as I can, and the rather to keep my wife in good heart and family also. After supper (having eat nothing all this day) upon a fine tench of Mr. Shelden’s taking, we to bed.
. Up, it being a cold misting morning, and so by water to the office, where very busy upon several businesses. At noon got the messenger, Marlow, to get me a piece of bread and butter and cheese and a bottle of beer and ale, and so I went not out of the office but dined off that, and my boy Tom, but the rest of my clerks went home to dinner. Then to my business again, and by and by sent my waterman to see how Sir W. Warren do, who is sicke, and for which I have reason to be very sorry, he being the friend I have got most by of most friends in England but the King: who returns me that he is pretty well again, his disease being an ague. I by water to Deptford, thinking to have seen my valentine, but I could not, and so come back again, and to the office, where a little business, and thence with Captain Cocke, and there drank a cup of good drink, which I am fain to allow myself during this plague time, by advice of all, and not contrary to my oathe, my physician being dead, and chirurgeon out of the way, whose advice I am obliged to take, and so by water home and eat my supper, and to bed, being in much pain to think what I shall do this winter time; for go every day to Woolwich I cannot, without endangering my life; and staying from my wife at Greenwich is not handsome.
. Up, and walked to Greenwich reading a play, and to the office, where I find Sir J. Minnes gone to the fleet, like a doting foole, to do no good, but proclaim himself an asse; for no service he can do there, nor inform my Lord, who is come in thither to the buoy of the Nore, in anything worth his knowledge. At noon to dinner to my Lord Brouncker, where Sir W. Batten and his Lady come, by invitation, and very merry we were, only that the discourse of the likelihood of the increase of the plague this weeke makes us a little sad, but then again the thoughts of the late prizes make us glad. After dinner, by appointment, comes Mr. Andrews, and he and I walking alone in the garden talking of our Tangier business, and I endeavoured by the by to offer some encouragements for their continuing in the business, which he seemed to take hold of, and the truth is my profit is so much concerned that I could wish they would, and would take pains to ease them in the business of money as much as was possible. He being gone (after I had ordered him £2,000, and he paid me my quantum out of it) I also walked to the office, and there to my business; but find myself, through the unfitness of my place to write in, and my coming from great dinners, and drinking wine, that I am not in the good temper of doing business now a days that I used to be and ought still to be. At night to Captain Cocke’s, meaning to lie there, it being late, and he not being at home, I walked to him to my Lord Brouncker’s, and there stayed a while, they being at tables; and so by and by parted, and walked to his house; and, after a mess of good broth, to bed, in great pleasure, his company being most excellent.
. Up, and before I went out of my chamber did draw a music scale, in order to my having it at any time ready in my hand to turn to for exercise, for I have a great mind in this Vacation to perfect myself in my scale, in order to my practising of composition, and so that being done I down stairs, and there find Captain Cocke under the barber’s hands, the barber that did heretofore trim Commissioner Pett, and with whom I have been. He offered to come this day after dinner with his violin to play me a set of Lyra-airs upon it, which I was glad of, hoping to be merry thereby. Being ready we to church, where a company of fine people to church, and a fine Church, and very good sermon, Mr. Plume2669 being a very excellent scholler and preacher. Coming out of the church I met Mrs. Pierce, whom I was ashamed to see, having not been with her since my coming to town, but promised to visit her. Thence with Captain Cocke, in his coach, home to dinner, whither comes by invitation my Lord Brouncker and his mistress and very good company we were, but in dinner time comes Sir J. Minnes from the fleet, like a simple weak man, having nothing to say of what he hath done there, but tells of what value he imagines the prizes to be, and that my Lord Sandwich is well, and mightily concerned to hear that I was well. But this did put me upon a desire of going thither; and, moving of it to my Lord, we presently agreed upon it to go this very tide, we two and Captain Cocke. So everybody prepared to fit himself for his journey, and I walked to Woolwich to trim and shift myself, and by the time I was ready they come down in the Bezan yacht, and so I aboard and my boy Tom, and there very merrily we sailed to below Gravesend, and there come to anchor for all night, and supped and talked, and with much pleasure at last settled ourselves to sleep having very good lodging upon cushions in the cabin.
. By break of day we come to within sight of the fleet, which was a very fine thing to behold, being above 100 ships, great and small; with the flagships of each squadron, distinguished by their several flags on their main, fore, or mizzen masts. Among others, the Sovereign, Charles, and Prince; in the last of which my Lord Sandwich was. When we called by her side his Lordship was not stirring, so we come to anchor a little below his ship, thinking to have rowed on board him, but the wind and tide was so strong against us that we could not get up to him, no, though rowed by a boat of the Prince’s that come to us to tow us up; at last however he brought us within a little way, and then they flung out a rope to us from the Prince and so come on board, but with great trouble and time and patience, it being very cold; we find my Lord newly up in his nightgown very well. He received us kindly; telling us the state of the fleet, lacking provisions, having no beer at all, nor have had most of them these three weeks or month, and but few days’ dry provisions. And indeed he tells us that he believes no fleet was ever set to sea in so ill condition of provision, as this was when it went out last. He did inform us in the business of Bergen,2670 so as to let us see how the judgment of the world is not to be depended on in things they know not; it being a place just wide enough, and not so much hardly, for ships to go through to it, the yardarmes sticking in the very rocks. He do not, upon his best enquiry, find reason to except against any part of the management of the business by Teddiman; he having stayed treating no longer than during the night, whiles he was fitting himself to fight, bringing his ship abreast, and not a quarter of an hour longer (as is said); nor could more ships have been brought to play, as is thought. Nor could men be landed, there being 10,000 men effectively always in armes of the Danes; nor, says he, could we expect more from the Dane than he did, it being impossible to set fire on the ships but it must burn the town. But that wherein the Dane did amisse is, that he did assist them, the Dutch, all the while, while he was treating with us, while he should have been neutrall to us both. But, however, he did demand but the treaty of us; which is, that we should not come with more than five ships. A flag of truce is said, and confessed by my Lord, that he believes it was hung out; but while they did hang it out, they did shoot at us; so that it was not either seen perhaps, or fit to cease upon sight of it, while they continued actually in action against us. But the main thing my Lord wonders at, and condemns the Dane for, is, that the blockhead, who is so much in debt to the Hollander, having now a treasure more by much than all his Crown was worth, and that which would forever have beggared the Hollanders, should not take this time to break with the Hollander, and thereby paid his debt which must have been forgiven him, and got the greatest treasure into his hands that ever was together in the world. By and by my Lord took me aside to discourse of his private matters, who was very free with me touching the ill condition of the fleet that it hath been in, and the good fortune that he hath had, and nothing else that these prizes are to be imputed to. He also talked with me about Mr. Coventry’s dealing with him in sending Sir W. Penn away before him, which was not fair nor kind; but that he hath mastered and cajoled Sir W. Penn, that he hath been able to do, nothing in the fleet, but been obedient to him; but withal tells me he is a man that is but of very mean parts, and a fellow not to be lived with, so false and base he is; which I know well enough to be very true, and did, as I had formerly done, give my Lord my knowledge of him. By and by was called a Council of War on board, when come Sir W. Penn there, and Sir Christopher Mings, Sir Edward Spragg, Sir Jos. Jordan, Sir Thomas Teddiman, and Sir Roger Cuttance, and so the necessity of the fleet for victuals, clothes, and money was discoursed, but by the discourse there of all but my Lord, that is to say, the counterfeit grave nonsense of Sir W. Penn and the poor mean discourse of the rest, methinks I saw how the government and management of the greatest business of the three nations is committed to very ordinary heads, saving my Lord, and in effect is only upon him, who is able to do what he pleases with them, they not having the meanest degree of reason to be able to oppose anything that he says, and so I fear it is ordered but like all the rest of the King’s public affairs. The council being up they most of them went away, only Sir W. Penn who stayed to dine there and did so, but the wind being high the ship (though the motion of it was hardly discernible to the eye) did make me sick, so as I could not eat anything almost. After dinner Cocke did pray me to help him to £500 of W. How, who is deputy Treasurer, wherein my Lord Brouncker and I am to be concerned and I did aske it my Lord, and he did consent to have us furnished with £500, and I did get it paid to Sir Roger Cuttance and Mr. Pierce in part for above £1,000 worth of goods, Mace, Nutmegs, Cynamon, and Cloves, and he tells us we may hope to get £1,500 by it, which God send! Great spoil, I hear, there hath been of the two East India ships, and that yet they will come in to the King very rich: so that I hope this journey will be worth £100 to me.2671 After having paid this money, we took leave of my Lord and so to our Yacht again, having seen many of my friends there. Among others I hear that W. Howe will grow very rich by this last business and grows very proud and insolent by it; but it is what I ever expected. I hear by everybody how much my poor Lord of Sandwich was concerned for me during my silence a while, lest I had been dead of the plague in this sickly time. No sooner come into the yacht, though overjoyed with the good work we have done today, but I was overcome with sea sickness so that I begun to spew soundly, and so continued a good while, till at last I went into the cabin and shutting my eyes my trouble did cease that I fell asleep, which continued till we come into Chatham river where the water was smooth, and then I rose and was very well, and the tide coming to be against us we did land before we come to Chatham and walked a mile, having very good discourse by the way, it being dark and it beginning to rain just as we got thither. At Commissioner Pett’s we did eat and drink very well and very merry we were, and about 10 at night, it being moonshine and very cold, we set out, his coach carrying us, and so all night travelled to Greenwich, we sometimes sleeping a little and then talking and laughing by the way, and with much pleasure, but that it was very horrible cold, that I was afeard of an ague. A pretty passage was that the coach stood of a sudden and the coachman come down and the horses stirring, he cried, Hold! which waked me, and the coach[man] standing at the boote to [do] something or other and crying, Hold! I did wake of a sudden and not knowing who he was, nor thinking of the coachman between sleeping and waking I did take up the heart to take him by the shoulder, thinking verily he had been a thief. But when I waked I found my cowardly heart to discover a fear within me and that I should never have done it if I had been awake.
. About 4 or 5 of the clock we come to Greenwich, and, having first set down my Lord Brouncker, Cocke and I went to his house, it being light, and there to our great trouble, we being sleepy and cold, we met with the ill news that his boy Jacke was gone to bed sicke, which put Captain Cocke and me also into much trouble, the boy, as they told us, complaining of his head most, which is a bad sign it seems. So they presently betook themselves to consult whither and how to remove him. However I thought it not fit for me to discover too much fear to go away, nor had I any place to go to. So to bed I went and slept till 10 of the clock and then comes Captain Cocke to wake me and tell me that his boy was well again. With great joy I heard the news and he told it, so I up and to the office where we did a little, and but a little business. At noon by invitation to my Lord Brouncker’s where we stayed till four of the clock for my Lady Batten and she not then coming we to dinner and pretty merry but disordered by her making us stay so long. After dinner I to the office, and there wrote letters and did business till night and then to Sir J. Minnes’s, where I find my Lady Batten come, and she and my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, and the whole house-full there at cards. But by and by my Lord Brouncker goes away and others of the company, and when I expected Sir J. Minnes and his sister should have stayed to have made Sir W. Batten and Lady sup, I find they go up in snuffe to bed without taking any manner of leave of them, but left them with Mr. Boreman. The reason of this I could not presently learn, but anon I hear it is that Sir J. Minnes did expect and intend them a supper, but they without respect to him did first apply themselves to Boreman, which makes all this great feud. However I stayed and there supped, all of us being in great disorder from this, and more from Cocke’s boy’s being ill, where my Lady Batten and Sir W. Batten did come to town with an intent to lodge, and I was forced to go seek a lodging which my W. Hewer did get me, viz., his own chamber in the town, whither I went and found it a very fine room, and there lay most excellently.
. Called up by Captain Cocke (who was last night put into great trouble upon his boy’s being rather worse than better, upon which he removed him out of his house to his stable), who told me that to my comfort his boy was now as well as ever he was in his life. So I up, and after being trimmed, the first time I have been touched by a barber these twelvemonths, I think, and more, went to Sir J. Minnes’s, where I find all out of order still, they having not seen one another till by and by Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten met, to go into my Lord Brouncker’s coach, and so we four to Lambeth, and thence to the Duke of Albemarle, to inform him what we have done as to the fleet, which is very little, and to receive his direction. But, Lord! what a sad time it is to see no boats upon the River; and grass grows all up and down Whitehall Court, and nobody but poor wretches in the streets! And, which is worst of all, the Duke showed us the number of the plague this week, brought in the last night from the Lord Mayor; that it is increased about 600 more than the last, which is quite contrary to all our hopes and expectations, from the coldness of the late season. For the whole general number is 8,297, and of them the plague 7,165; which is more in the whole by above 50, than the biggest Bill yet; which is very grievous to us all. I find here a design in my Lord Brouncker and Captain Cocke to have had my Lord Brouncker chosen as one of us to have been sent aboard one of the East Indiamen, and Captain Cocke as a merchant to be joined with him, and Sir J. Minnes for the other, and Sir G. Smith to be joined with him. But I did order it so that my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes were ordered, but I did stop the merchants to be added, which would have been a most pernicious thing to the King I am sure. In this I did, I think, a very good office, though I cannot acquit myself from some envy of mine in the business to have the profitable business done by another hand while I lay wholly employed in the trouble of the office. Thence back again by my Lord’s coach to my Lord Brouncker’s house, where I find my Lady Batten, who is become very great with Mrs. Williams (my Lord Brouncker’s whore), and there we dined and were mighty merry. After dinner I to the office there to write letters, to fit myself for a journey tomorrow to Nonsuch to the Exchequer by appointment. That being done I to Sir J. Minnes where I find Sir W. Batten and his Lady gone home to Walthamstow in great snuffe as to Sir J. Minnes, but yet with some necessity, hearing that a maid-servant of theirs is taken ill. Here I stayed and resolved of my going in my Lord Brouncker’s coach which he would have me to take, though himself cannot go with me as he intended, and so to my last night’s lodging to bed very weary.
. Up between five and six o’clock; and by the time I was ready, my Lord’s coach comes for me; and taking Will Hewer with me, who is all in mourning for his father, who is lately dead of the plague, as my boy Tom’s is also, I set out, and took about £100 with me to pay the fees there, and so rode in some fear of robbing. When I come thither, I find only Mr. Ward, who led me to Burgess’s bedside, and Spicer’s, who, watching of the house, as it is their turns every night, did lie long in bed today, and I find nothing at all done in my business, which vexed me. But not seeing how to help it I did walk up and down with Mr. Ward to see the house; and by and by Spicer and Mr. Falconbrige come to me and he and I to a town near by, Yowell, there drink and set up my horses and also bespoke a dinner, and while that is dressing went with Spicer and walked up and down the house and park; and a fine place it hath heretofore been, and a fine prospect about the house.2672 A great walk of an elme and a walnut set one after another in order. And all the house on the outside filled with figures of stories, and good painting of Rubens’ or Holben’s doing. And one great thing is, that most of the house is covered, I mean the posts, and quarters in the walls; covered with lead, and gilded. I walked into the ruined garden, and there found a plain little girl, kinswoman of Mr. Falconbridge, to sing very finely by the ear only, but a fine way of singing, and if I come ever to lacke a girl again I shall think of getting her. Thence to the town, and there Spicer, Woodruffe, and W. Bowyer and I dined together and a friend of Spicer’s; and a good dinner I had for them. Falconbrige dined somewhere else, by appointment. Strange to see how young W. Bowyer looks at 41 years; one would not take him for 24 or more, and is one of the greatest wonders I ever did see. After dinner, about 4 of the clock we broke up, and I took coach and home (in fear for the money I had with me, but that this friend of Spicer’s, one of the Duke’s guard did ride along the best part of the way with us). I got to my Lord Brouncker’s before night, and there I sat and supped with him and his mistress, and Cocke whose boy is yet ill. Thence, after losing a crown betting at Tables,2673 we walked home, Cocke seeing me at my new lodging, where I went to bed. All my worke this day in the coach going and coming was to refresh myself in my music scale, which I would fain have perfecter than ever I had yet.
. Up betimes and to the office, meaning to have entered my last 5 or 6 days’ Journal, but was called away by my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes, and to Blackwall, there to look after the storehouses in order to the laying of goods out of the East India ships when they shall be unloaden. That being done, we into Johnson’s house, and were much made of, eating and drinking. But here it is observable what he tells us, that in digging his late Docke, he did 12 foot under ground find perfect trees over-covered with earth. Nut trees, with the branches and the very nuts upon them; some of whose nuts he showed us. Their shells black with age, and their kernell, upon opening, decayed, but their shell perfectly hard as ever. And a yew tree he showed us (upon which, he says, the very ivy was taken up whole about it), which upon cutting with an addes [adze], we found to be rather harder than the living tree usually is. They say, very much, but I do not know how hard a yew tree naturally is.2674 The armes, they say, were taken up at first whole, about the body, which is very strange. Thence away by water, and I walked with my Lord Brouncker home, and there at dinner comes a letter from my Lord Sandwich to tell me that he would this day be at Woolwich, and desired me to meet him. Which fearing might have lain in Sir J. Minnes’ pocket a while, he sending it me, did give my Lord Brouncker, his mistress, and I occasion to talk of him as the most unfit man for business in the world. Though at last afterwards I found that he was not in this faulty, but hereby I have got a clear evidence of my Lord Brouncker’s opinion of him. My Lord Brouncker presently ordered his coach to be ready and we to Woolwich, and my Lord Sandwich not being come, we took a boat and about a mile off met him in his Catch, and boarded him, and come up with him; and, after making a little halt at my house, which I ordered, to have my wife see him, we all together by coach to Mr. Boreman’s, where Sir J. Minnes did receive him very handsomely, and there he is to lie; and Sir J. Minnes did give him on the sudden, a very handsome supper and brave discourse, my Lord Brouncker, and Captain Cocke, and Captain Herbert being there, with myself. Here my Lord did witness great respect to me, and very kind expressions, and by other occasions, from one thing to another did take notice how I was overjoyed at first to see the King’s letter to his Lordship, and told them how I did kiss it, and that, whatever he was, I did always love the King. This my Lord Brouncker did take such notice [of] as that he could not forbear kissing me before my Lord, professing his finding occasion every day more and more to love me, and Captain Cocke has since of himself taken notice of that speech of my Lord then concerning me, and may be of good use to me. Among other discourse concerning long life, Sir J. Minnes saying that his great-grandfather was alive in Edward V’s time; my Lord Sandwich did tell us how few there have been of his family since King Harry VIII; that is to say, the then Chiefe Justice,2675 and his son the Lord Montagu,2676 who was father to Sir Sidney,2677 who was his father. And yet, what is more wonderful, he did assure us from the mouth of my Lord Montagu himself, that in King James’s time ([when he] had a mind to get the King to cut off the entail of some land which was given in Harry VIII’s time to the family, with the remainder in the Crown); he did answer the King in showing how unlikely it was that ever it could revert to the Crown, but that it would be a present convenience to him; and did show that at that time there were 4,000 persons derived from the very body of the Chiefe Justice. It seems the number of daughters in the family having been very great, and they too had most of them many children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. This he tells as a most known and certain truth. After supper, my Lord Brouncker took his leave, and I also did mine, taking Captain Herbert home to my lodging to lie with me, who did mighty seriously inquire after who was that in the black dress with my wife yesterday, and would not believe that it was my wife’s maid, Mercer, but it was she.
. Up, and to my Lord Sandwich, who did advise alone with me how far he might trust Captain Cocke in the business of the prize-goods,2678 my Lord telling me that he hath taken into his hands 2 or £3,000 value of them: it being a good way, he says, to get money, and afterwards to get the King’s allowance thereof, it being easier, he observes, to keepe money when got of the King than to get it when it is too late. I advised him not to trust Cocke too far, and did therefore offer him ready money for a £1,000 or two, which he listens to and do agree to, which is great joy to me, hoping thereby to get something! Thence by coach to Lambeth, his Lordship, and all our office, and Mr. Evelyn, to the Duke of Albemarle, where, after the compliment with my Lord very kind, we sat down to consult of the disposing and supporting of the fleet with victuals and money, and for the sicke men and prisoners; and I did propose the taking out some goods out of the prizes, to the value of £10,000, which was accorded to, and an order, drawn up and signed by the Duke and my Lord, done in the best manner I can, and referred to my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes, but what inconveniences may arise from it I do not yet see, but fear there may be many. Here we dined, and I did hear my Lord Craven whisper, as he is mightily possessed with a good opinion of me, much to my advantage, which my good Lord did second, and anon my Lord Craven did speak publicly of me to the Duke, in the hearing of all the rest; and the Duke did say something of the like advantage to me; I believe, not much to the satisfaction of my brethren; but I was mightily joyed at it. Thence took leave, leaving my Lord Sandwich to go visit the Bishop of Canterbury, and I and Sir W. Batten down to the Tower, where he went further by water, and I home, and among other things took out all my gold to carry along with me tonight with Captain Cocke down to the fleet, being £180 and more, hoping to lay out that and a great deal more to good advantage. Thence down to Greenwich to the office, and there wrote several letters, and so to my Lord Sandwich, and mighty merry and he mighty kind to me in the face of all, saying much in my favour, and after supper I took leave and with Captain Cocke set out in the yacht about ten o’clock at night, and after some discourse, and drinking a little, my mind full of what we are going about and jealous of Cocke’s outdoing me. So to sleep upon beds brought by Cocke on board mighty handsome, and never slept better than upon this bed upon the floor in the Cabin.
. Waked, and up and drank, and then to discourse; and then being about Grayes, and a very calme, curious morning, we took our wherry, and to the fishermen, and bought a great deal of fine fish, and to Gravesend to White’s, and had part of it dressed; and, in the meantime, we to walk about a mile from the town, and so back again; and there, after breakfast, one of our watermen told us he had heard of a bargain of cloves for us, and we went to a blind alehouse at the further end wretched dirty seamen, who, of the town to a couple of poor wretches, had got together about 37 lb. of cloves and to 10 of nutmegs, and we bought them of them, the first at 5s. 6d. per lb. and the latter at 4s.; and paid them in gold; but, Lord! to see how silly these men are in the selling of it, and easily to be persuaded almost to anything, offering a bag to us to pass as 20 lbs. of cloves, which upon weighing proved 25 lbs. But it would never have been allowed by my conscience to have wronged the poor wretches, who told us how dangerously they had got some, and dearly paid for the rest of these goods. This being done we with great content herein on board again and there Captain Cocke and I to discourse of our business, but he will not yet be open to me, nor am I to him till I hear what he will say and do with Sir Roger Cuttance. However, this discourse did do me good, and got me a copy of the agreement made the other day on board for the parcel of Mr. Pierce and Sir Roger Cuttance, but this great parcel is of my Lord Sandwich’s. By and by to dinner about 3 o’clock and then I in the cabin to writing down my journal for these last seven days to my great content, it having pleased God that in this sad time of the plague everything else has conspired to my happiness and pleasure more for these last three months than in all my life before in so little time. God long preserve it and make me thankful for it! After finishing my Journal, then to discourse and to read, and then to supper and to bed, my mind not being at full ease, having not fully satisfied myself how Captain Cocke will deal with me as to the share of the profits.
. Found ourselves come to the fleet, and so aboard the Prince; and there, after a good while in discourse, we did agree a bargain of £5,000 with Sir Roger Cuttance for my Lord Sandwich for silk, cinnamon, nutmegs, and indigo. And I was near signing to an undertaking for the payment of the whole sum; but I did by chance escape it; having since, upon second thoughts, great cause to be glad of it, reflecting upon the craft and not good condition, it may be, of Captain Cocke. I could get no trifles for my wife. Anon to dinner and thence in great haste to make a short visit to Sir W. Penn, where I found them and his lady and daughter and many commanders at dinner. Among others Sir G. Askue, of whom whatever the matter is, the world is silent altogether. But a very pretty dinner there was, and after dinner Sir W. Penn made a bargain with Cocke for ten bales of silke, at 16s. per lb., which, as Cocke says, will be a good pennyworth, and so away to the Prince and presently comes my Lord on board from Greenwich, with whom, after a little discourse about his trusting of Cocke, we parted and to our yacht; but it being calme, we to make haste, took our wherry toward Chatham; but, it growing dark, we were put to great difficulties, our simple, yet confident waterman, not knowing a step of the way; and we found ourselves to go backward and forward, which, in the dark night and a wild place, did vex us mightily. At last we got a fisher boy by chance, and took him into the boat, and being an odde kind of boy, did vex us too; for he would not answer us aloud when we spoke to him, but did carry us safe thither, though with a mistake or two; but I wonder they were not more. In our way I was [surprised] and so were we all, at the strange nature of the seawater in a dark night, that it seemed like fire upon every stroke of the oare, and, they say, is a sign of winde. We went to the Crown Inne, at Rochester, and there to supper, and made ourselves merry with our poor fisher-boy, who told us he had not been in a bed in the whole seven years since he came to ’prentice, and hath two or three more years to serve. After eating something, we in our clothes to bed.
. Up by five o’clock and got post horses and so set out for Greenwich, calling and drinking at Dartford. Being come to Greenwich and shifting myself I to the office, from whence by and by my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes set out toward Erith to take charge of the two East India ships, which I had a hand in contriving for the King’s service and may do myself a good office too thereby. I to dinner with Mr. Wright to his father-in-law in Greenwich, one of the most silly, harmless, prating old men that ever I heard in my life. Creed dined with me, and among other discourses got of me a promise of half that he could get my Lord Rutherford to give me upon clearing his business, which should not be less, he says, than £50 for my half, which is a good thing, though cunningly got of him. By and by Luellin comes, and I hope to get something of Deering shortly. They being gone, Mr. Wright and I went into the garden to discourse with much trouble for fear of losing all the profit and principal of what we have laid out in buying of prize goods, and therefore puts me upon thoughts of flinging up my interest, but yet I shall take good advice first. Thence to the office, and after some letters down to Woolwich, where I have not lain with my wife these eight days I think, or more. After supper, and telling her my mind in my trouble in what I have done as to buying of these goods, we to bed.
. Up, and saw and admired my wife’s picture of our Saviour,2679 now finished, which is very pretty. So by water to Greenwich, where with Creed and Lord Rutherford, and there my Lord told me that he would give me £100 for my pains, which pleased me well, though Creed, like a cunning rogue, hath got a promise of half of it from me. We to the King’s Head, the great music house, the first time I was ever there, and had a good breakfast, and thence parted, I being much troubled to hear from Creed, that he was told at Salsbury2680 that I am come to be a great swearer and drinker, though I know the contrary; but, Lord! to see how my late little drinking of wine is taken notice of by envious men to my disadvantage. I thence to Captain Cocke’s, [and] (he not yet come from town) to Mr. Evelyn’s, where much company; and thence in his coach with him to the Duke of Albemarle by Lambeth, who was in a mighty pleasant humour; there the Duke tells us that the Dutch do stay abroad, and our fleet must go out again, or to be ready to do so. Here we got several things ordered as we desired for the relief of the prisoners, and sick and wounded men. Here I saw this week’s Bill of Mortality, wherein, blessed be God! there is above 1800 decrease, being the first considerable decrease we have had. Back again the same way and had most excellent discourse of Mr. Evelyn touching all manner of learning; wherein I find him a very fine gentleman, and particularly of paynting, in which he tells me the beautiful Mrs. Middleton is rare, and his own wife do brave things. He brought me to the office, whither comes unexpectedly Captain Cocke, who hath brought one parcel of our goods by wagons, and at first resolved to have lodged them at our office; but then the thoughts of its being the King’s house altered our resolution, and so put them at his friend’s, Mr. Glanvill’s, and there they are safe. Would the rest of them were so too! In discourse, we come to mention my profit, and he offers me £500 clear, and I demand £600 for my certain profit. We part tonight, and I lie there at Mr. Glanvill’s house, there being none there but a maidservant and a young man; being in some pain, partly from not knowing what to do in this business, having a mind to be at a certainty in my profit, and partly through his having Jacke sicke still, and his blackemore now also fallen sicke. So he being gone, I to bed.
. Up, and being mightily pleased with my night’s lodging, drank a cup of beer, and went out to my office, and there did some business, and so took boat and down to Woolwich (having first made a visit to Madam Williams, who is going down to my Lord Brouncker) and there dined, and then fitted my papers and money and everything else for a journey to Nonsuch tomorrow. That being done I walked to Greenwich, and there to the office pretty late expecting Captain Cocke’s coming, which he did, and so with me to my new lodging (and there I chose rather to lie because of my interest in the goods that we have brought there to lie), but the people were abed, so we knocked them up, and so I to bed, and in the night was mightily troubled with a looseness (I suppose from some fresh damp linen that I put on this night), and feeling for a chamberpot, there was none, I having called the maid up out of her bed, she had forgot I suppose to put one there; so I was forced in this strange house to rise and shit in the chimney twice; and so to bed and was very well again, and …
… to sleep till 5 o’clock, when it is now very dark, and then rose, being called up by order by Mr. Marlow, and so up and dressed myself, and by and by comes Mr. Lashmore on horseback, and I had my horse I borrowed of Mr. Gillthropp, Sir W. Batten’s clerke, brought to me, and so we set out and rode hard and was at Nonsuch by about eight o’clock, a very fine journey and a fine day. There I come just about chapel time and so I went to chapel with them and thence to the several offices about my tallies, which I find done, but strung for sums not to my purpose, and so was forced to get them to promise me to have them cut into other sums. But, Lord! what ado I had to persuade the dull fellows to it, especially Mr. Warder,2681 Master of the Pells, and yet without any manner of reason for their scruple. But at last I did, and so left my tallies there against another day, and so walked to Yowell, and there did spend a piece upon them, having a whole house full, and much mirth by a sister of the mistress of the house, an old maid lately married to a lieutenant of a company that quarters there, and much pleasant discourse we had and, dinner being done, we to horse again and come to Greenwich before night, and so to my lodging, and there being a little weary sat down and fell to order some of my pocket papers, and then comes Captain Cocke, and after a great deal of discourse with him seriously upon the disorders of our state through lack of men to mind the public business and to understand it, we broke up, sitting up talking very late. We spoke a little of my late business propounded of taking profit for my money laid out for these goods, but he finds I rise in my demand, he offering me still £500 certain. So we did give it over, and I to bed. I hear for certain this night upon the road that Sir Martin Noell2682 is this day dead of the plague in London, where he hath lain sick of it these eight days.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, and at noon with Sir W. Batten to Coll. Cleggat to dinner, being invited, where a very pretty dinner to my full content and very merry. The great burden we have upon us at this time at the office, is the providing for prisoners and sicke men that are recovered, they lying before our office doors all night and all day, poor wretches. Having been on shore, the captains won’t receive them on board, and other ships we have not to put them on, nor money to pay them off, or provide for them. God remove this difficulty! This made us followed all the way to this gentleman’s house and there are waited for our coming out after dinner. Hither come Luellin to me and would force me to take Mr. Deering’s 20 pieces in gold he did offer me a good while since, which I did, yet really and sincerely against my will and content, I seeing him a man not likely to do well in his business, nor I to reap any comfort in having to do with, and be beholden to, a man that minds more his pleasure and company than his business. Thence mighty merry and much pleased with the dinner and company and they with me I parted and there was set upon by the poor wretches, whom I did give good words and some little money to, and the poor people went away like lambs, and in good earnest are not to be censured if their necessities drive them to bad courses of stealing or the like, while they lacke wherewith to live. Thence to the office, and there wrote a letter or two and dispatched a little business, and then to Captain Cocke’s, where I find Mr. Temple,2683 the fat blade, Sir Robert. Viner’s chief man. And we three and two companions of his in the evening by agreement took ship in the Bezan and the tide carried us no further than Woolwich about 8 at night, and so I on shore to my wife, and there to my great trouble find my wife out of order, and she took me downstairs and there alone did tell me her falling out with both her maids and particularly Mary, and how Mary had to her teeth told her she would tell me of something that should stop her mouth and words of that sense. Which I suspect may be about Brown, but my wife prays me to call it to examination, and this, I being of myself jealous, do make me mightily out of temper, and seeing it not fit to enter into the dispute did passionately go away, thinking to go on board again. But when I come to the stairs I considered the Bezan would not go till the next ebb, and it was best to lie in a good bed and, it may be, get myself into a better humour by being with my wife. So I back again and to bed and having otherwise so many reasons to rejoice and hopes of good profit, besides considering the ill that trouble of mind and melancholly may in this sickly time bring a family into, and that if the difference were never so great, it is not a time to put away servants, I was resolved to salve up the business rather than stir in it, and so become pleasant with my wife and to bed, minding nothing of this difference. So to sleep with a good deal of content, and saving only this night and a day or two about the same business a month or six weeks ago, I do end this month with the greatest content, and may say that these last three months, for joy, health, and profit, have been much the greatest that ever I received in all my life in any twelve months almost in my life, having nothing upon me but the consideration of the sickliness of the season during this great plague to mortify mee. For all which the Lord God be praised!
October 1665
. Called up about 4 of the clock and so dressed myself and so on board the Bezan, and there finding all my company asleep I would not wake them, but it beginning to be break of day I did stay upon the decke walking, and then into the Maister’s cabin and there laid and slept a little, and so at last was waked by Captain Cocke’s calling of me, and so I turned out, and then to chat and talk and laugh, and mighty merry. We spent most of the morning talking and reading of The Siege of Rhodes, which is certainly (the more I read it the more I think so) the best poem that ever was wrote. We breakfasted betimes and come to the fleet about two of the clock in the afternoon, having a fine day and a fine winde. My Lord received us mighty kindly, and after discourse with us in general left us to our business, and he to his officers, having called a council of war, we in the meantime settling of papers with Mr. Pierce and everybody else, and by and by with Captain Cuttance. Anon called down to my Lord, and there with him till supper talking and discourse; among other things, to my great joy, he did assure me that he had wrote to the King and Duke about these prize-goods, and told me that they did approve of what he had done, and that he would own what he had done, and would have me to tell all the world so, and did, under his hand, give Cocke and me his certificate of our bargains, and giving us full power of disposal of what we have so bought. This do ease my mind of all my fear, and makes my heart lighter by £100 than it was before. He did discourse to us of the Dutch fleet being abroad, eighty-five of them still, and are now at the Texell, he believes, in expectation of our Eastland ships coming home with masts and hemp, and our loaden Hambrough ships going to Hambrough. He discoursed against them that would have us yield to no conditions but conquest over the Dutch, and seems to believe that the Dutch will call for the protection of the King of France and come under his power, which were to be wished they might be brought to do under ours by fair means, and to that end would have all Dutch men and families, that would come hither and settled, to be declared denizens; and my Lord did whisper to me alone that things here must break in pieces, nobody minding anything, but every man his own business of profit or pleasure, and the King some little designs of his own, and that certainly the kingdom could not stand in this condition long, which I fear and believe is very true. So to supper and there my Lord the kindest man to me, before all the table talking of me to my advantage and with tenderness too that it overjoyed me. So after supper Captain Cocke and I and Temple on board the Bezan, and there to cards for a while and then to read again in Rhodes and so to sleep. But, Lord! the mirth which it caused me to be waked in the night by their snoaring round about me; I did laugh till I was ready to burst, and waked one of the two companions of Temple, who could not a good while tell where he was that he heard one laugh so, till he recollected himself, and I told him what it was at, and so to sleep again, they still snoaring.
. We having sailed all night (and I do wonder how they in the dark could find the way) we got by morning to Gillingham, and thence all walked to Chatham; and there with Commissioner Pett viewed the Yard; and among other things, a teame of four horses come close by us, he being with me, drawing a piece of timber that I am confident one man could easily have carried upon his back. I made the horses be taken away, and a man or two to take the timber away with their hands. This the Commissioner did see, but said nothing, but I think had cause to be ashamed of. We walked, he and I and Cocke, to the Hill-house, where we find Sir W. Penn in bed and there much talk and much dissembling of kindness from him, but he is a false rogue, and I shall not trust him, but my being there did procure his consent to have his silk carried away before the money received, which he would not have done for Cocke I am sure. Thence to Rochester, walked to the Crown, and while dinner was getting ready, I did there walk to visit the old Castle ruines, which hath been a noble place, and there going up I did upon the stairs overtake three pretty maids or women and took them up with me, and I did baiser sur mouches et toucher leur mains and necks to my great pleasure: but, Lord! to see what a dreadful thing it is to look down the precipices, for it did fright me mightily, and hinder me of much pleasure which I would have made to myself in the company of these three, if it had not been for that. The place hath been very noble and great and strong in former ages. So to walk up and down the Cathedral, and thence to the Crown, whither Mr. Fowler, the Mayor of the town, was come in his gown, and is a very reverend magistrate. After I had eat a bit, not staying to eat with them, I went away, and so took horses and to Gravesend, and there stayed not, but got a boat, the sickness being very much in the town still, and so called on board my Lord Brouncker and Sir John Minnes, on board one of the East Indiamen at Erith, and there do find them full of envious complaints for the pillaging of the ships, but I did pacify them, and discoursed about making money of some of the goods, and do hope to be the better by it honestly. So took leave (Madam Williams being here also with my Lord), and about 8 o’clock got to Woolwich and there supped and mighty pleasant with my wife, who is, for ought I see, all friends with her maids, and so in great joy and content to bed.
. Up, and to my great content visited betimes by Mr. Woolly, my uncle Wight’s cousin, who comes to see what work I have for him about these East India goods, and I do find that this fellow might have been of great use, and hereafter may be of very great use to me, in this trade of prize goods, and glad I am fully of his coming hither. While I dressed myself, and afterwards in walking to Greenwich we did discourse over all the business of the prize goods, and he puts me in hopes I may get some money in what I have done, but not so much as I expected, but that I may hereafter do more. We have laid a design of getting more, and are to talk again of it a few days hence. To the office, where nobody to meet me, Sir W. Batten being the only man and he gone this day to meet to adjourne the Parliament to Oxford. Anon by appointment comes one to tell me my Lord Rutherford is come; so I to the King’s Head to him, where I find his lady,2684 a fine young Scotch lady, pretty handsome and plain. My wife also, and Mercer, by and by comes, Creed bringing them; and so presently to dinner and very merry; and after to even our accounts, and I to give him tallies, where he do allow me £100, of which to my grief the rogue Creed has trepanned me out of £50. But I do foresee a way how it may be I may get a greater sum of my Lord to his content by getting him allowance of interest upon his tallies. That being done, and some music and other diversions, at last away goes my Lord and Lady, and I sent my wife to visit Mrs. Pierce, and so I to my office, where wrote important letters to the Court, and at night (Creed having clownishly left my wife), I to Mrs. Pierce’s and brought her and Mrs. Pierce to the King’s Head and there spent a piece upon a supper for her and mighty merry and pretty discourse, she being as pretty as ever, most of our mirth being upon “my Cousin” (meaning my Lord Brouncker’s ugly mistress, whom he calls cousin), and to my trouble she tells me that the fine Mrs. Middleton is noted for carrying about her body a continued sour base smell, that is very offensive, especially if she be a little hot. Here some bad music to close the night and so away and all of us saw Mrs. Belle Pierce (as pretty as ever she was almost) home, and so walked to Will’s lodging where I used to lie, and there made shift for a bed for Mercer, and mighty pleasantly to bed. This night I hear that of our two watermen that use to carry our letters, and were well on Saturday last, one is dead, and the other dying sick of the plague. The plague, though decreasing elsewhere, yet being greater about the Tower and thereabouts.
. Up and to my office, where Mr. Andrews comes, and reckoning with him I get £64 of him. By and by comes Mr. Gawden, and reckoning with him he gives me £60 in his account, which is a great mercy to me. Then both of them met and discoursed the business of the first man’s resigning and the other’s taking up the business of the victualling of Tangier, and I do not think that I shall be able to do as well under Mr. Gawden as under these men, or within a little as to profit and less care upon me. Thence to the King’s Head to dinner, where we three and Creed and my wife and her woman dined mighty merry and sat long talking, and so in the afternoon broke up, and I led my wife to our lodging again, and I to the office where did much business, and so to my wife. This night comes Sir George Smith2685 to see me at the office, and tells me how the plague is decreased this week 740, for which God be praised! but that it increases at our end of the town still, and says how all the town is full of Captain Cocke’s being in some ill condition about prize-goods, his goods being taken from him, and I know not what. But though this troubles me to have it said, and that it is likely to be a business in Parliament, yet I am not much concerned at it, because yet I believe this news is all false, for he would have wrote to me sure about it. Being come to my wife, at our lodging, I did go to bed, and left my wife with her people to laugh and dance and I to sleep.
. Lay long in bed talking among other things of my sister Pall, and my wife of herself is very willing that I should give her £400 to her portion, and would have her married soon as we could; but this great sickness time do make it unfit to send for her up. I abroad to the office and thence to the Duke of Albemarle, all my way reading a book of Mr. Evelyn’s translating and sending me as a present, about directions for gathering a Library;2686 but the book is above my reach, but his epistle to my Lord Chancellor is a very fine piece. When I come to the Duke it was about the victuallers’ business, to put it into other hands, or more hands, which I do advise in, but I hope to do myself a jobb of work in it. So I walked through Westminster to my old house the Swan, and there did pass some time with Sarah, and so down by water to Deptford and there to my Valentine.2687 Round about and next door on every side is the plague, but I did not value it, but there did what I would con elle, and so away to Mr. Evelyn’s to discourse of our confounded business of prisoners, and sick and wounded seamen, wherein he and we are so much put out of order.2688 And here he showed me his gardens, which are for variety of evergreens, and hedge of holly, the finest things I ever saw in my life.2689 Thence in his coach to Greenwich, and there to my office, all the way having fine discourse of trees and the nature of vegetables. And so to write letters, I very late to Sir W. Coventry of great concernment, and so to my last night’s lodging, but my wife is gone home to Woolwich. The Bill, blessed be God! is less this week by 740 of what it was the last week. Being come to my lodging I got something to eat, having eat little all the day, and so to bed, having this night renewed my promises of observing my vowes as I used to do; for I find that, since I left them off, my mind is run a’ woolgathering and my business neglected.
. Up, and having sent for Mr. Gawden he come to me, and he and I largely discoursed the business of his Victualling, in order to the adding of partners to him or other ways of altering it, wherein I find him ready to do anything the King would have him do. So he and I took his coach and to Lambeth and to the Duke of Albemarle about it, and so back again, where he left me. In our way discoursing of the business and contracting a great friendship with him, and I find he is a man most worthy to be made a friend, being very honest and grateful, and in the freedom of our discourse he did tell me his opinion and knowledge of Sir W. Penn to be, what I know him to be, as false a man as ever was born, for so, it seems, he hath been to him. He did also tell me, discoursing how things are governed as to the King’s treasure, that, having occasion for money in the country, he did offer Alderman Maynell to pay him down money here, to be paid by the Receiver in some county in the country, upon whom Maynell had assignments, in whose hands the money also lay ready. But Maynell refused it, saying that he could have his money when he would, and had rather it should lie where it do than receive it here in town this sickly time, where he hath no occasion for it. But now the evil is that he hath lent this money upon tallies which are become payable, but he finds that nobody looks after it, how long the money is unpaid, and whether it lies dead in the Receiver’s hands or no, so the King he pays Maynell 10 percent while the money lies in his Receiver’s hands to no purpose but the benefit of the Receiver. I to dinner to the King’s Head with Mr. Woolly, who is come to instruct me in the business of my goods, but gives me not so good comfort as I thought I should have had. But, however, it will be well worth my time though not above 2 or £300. He gone I to my office, where very busy drawing up a letter by way of discourse to the Duke of Albemarle about my conception how the business of the Victualling should be ordered, wherein I have taken great pains, and I think have hit the right if they will but follow it. At this very late and so home to our lodgings to bed.
. Up and to the office along with Mr. Childe, whom I sent for to discourse about the victualling business, who will not come into partnership (no more will Captain Beckford),2690 but I do find him a mighty understanding man, and one I will keep a knowledge of. Did business, though not much, at the office; because of the horrible crowd and lamentable moan of the poor seamen that lie starving in the streets for lack of money. Which do trouble and perplex me to the heart; and more at noon when we were to go through them, for then a whole hundred of them followed us; some cursing, some swearing, and some praying to us. And that that made me more troubled was a letter come this afternoon from the Duke of Albemarle, signifying the Dutch to be in sight, with 80 sail, yesterday morning, off of Solebay, coming right into the bay. God knows what they will and may do to us, we having no force abroad able to oppose them, but to be sacrificed to them. Here come Sir W. Rider to me, whom I sent for about the victualling business also, but he neither will not come into partnership, but desires to be of the Commission if there be one. Thence back the back way to my office, where very late, very busy. But most of all when at night come two wagons from Rochester with more goods from Captain Cocke; and in housing them at Mr. Tooker’s2691 lodgings come two of the Custome-house to seize them, and did seize them but I showed them my Transire. However, after some hot and angry words, we locked them up, and sealed up the key, and did give it to the constable to keep till Monday, and so parted. But, Lord! to think how the poor constable come to me in the dark going home; “Sir,” says he, “I have the key, and if you would have me do any service for you, send for me betimes tomorrow morning, and I will do what you would have me.” Whether the fellow do this out of kindness or knavery, I cannot tell; but it is pretty to observe. Talking with him in the high way, come close by the bearers with a dead corpse of the plague; but, Lord! to see what custom is, that I am come almost to think nothing of it. So to my lodging, and there, with Mr. Hater and Will, ending a business of the state of the last six months’ charge of the Navy, which we bring to £1,000,000 and above, and I think we do not enlarge much in it if anything. So to bed.
. Up and, after being trimmed, to the office, whither I upon a letter from the Duke of Albemarle to me, to order as many ships forth out of the river as I can presently, to join to meet the Dutch; having ordered all the Captains of the ships in the river to come to me, I did some business with them, and so to Captain Cocke’s to dinner, he being in the country. But here his brother Solomon was, and, for guests, myself, Sir G. Smith, and a very fine lady, one Mrs. Penington,2692 and two more gentlemen. But, both [before] and after dinner, most witty discourse with this lady, who is a very fine witty lady, one of the best I ever heard speake, and indifferent handsome. There after dinner an houre or two, and so to the office, where ended my business with the Captains; and I think of twenty-two ships we shall make shift to get out seven. (God help us! men being sick, or provisions lacking.) And so to write letters to Sir Ph. Warwicke, Sir W. Coventry, and Sir G. Carteret to Court about the last six months’ accounts, and sent away by an express tonight. This day I hear the Pope is dead;2693 and one said, that the news is, that the King of France is stabbed, but that the former is very true, which will do great things sure, as to the troubling of that part of the world, the King of Spain2694 being so lately dead. And one thing more, Sir Martin Noell’s lady is dead with griefe for the death of her husband and nothing else, as they say, in the world; but it seems nobody can make anything of his estate, whether he be dead worth anything or no, he having dealt in so many things, public and private, as nobody can understand whereabouts his estate is, which is the fate of these great dealers at everything. So after my business being done I home to my lodging and to bed.
. Up, my head full of business, and called upon also by Sir John Shaw, to whom I did give a civil answer about our prize goods, that all his dues as one of the Farmers of the Customes are paid, and showed him our Transire; with which he was satisfied, and parted, ordering his servants to see the weight of them. I to the office, and there found an order for my coming presently to the Duke of Albemarle, and what should it be, but to tell me, that, if my Lord Sandwich do not come to town, he do resolve to go with the fleet to sea himself, the Dutch, as he thinks, being in the Downs, and so desired me to get a pleasure boat for to take him in tomorrow morning, and do many other things, and with a great liking of me, and my management especially, as that coxcombe my Lord Craven do tell me, and I perceive it, and I am sure take pains enough to deserve it. Thence away and to the office at London, where I did some business about my money and private accounts, and there eat a bit of goose of Mr. Griffin’s, and so by water, it raining most miserably, to Greenwich, calling on several vessels in my passage. Being come there I hear another seizure hath been made of our goods by one Captain Fisher that hath been at Chatham by warrant of the Duke of Albemarle, and is come in my absence to Tooker’s and viewed them, demanding the key of the constable, and so sealed up the door. I to the house, but there being no officers nor constable could do nothing, but back to my office full of trouble about this, and there late about business, vexed to see myself fall into this trouble and concernment in a thing that I want instruction from my Lord Sandwich whether I should appear in it or no, and so home to bed, having spent two hours, I and my boy, at Mr. Glanvill’s removing of faggots to make room to remove our goods to, but when done I thought it not fit to use it. The news of the killing of the [King of] France is wholly untrue, and they say that of the Pope too.
. Up, and receive a stop from the Duke of Albemarle of setting out any more ships, or providing a pleasure boat for himself, which I am glad of, and do see, what I thought yesterday, that this resolution of his was a sudden one and silly. By and by comes Captain Cocke’s Jacob to tell me that he is come from Chatham this morning, and that there are four wagons of goods at hand coming to town, which troubles me. I directed him to bring them to his master’s house. But before I could send him away to bring them thither, news is brought me that they are seized on in the town by this Captain Fisher and they will carry them to another place. So I to them and found our four wagons in the street stopped by the church by this Fisher and company and 100 or 200 people in the streets gazing. I did give them good words, and made modest desires of carrying the goods to Captain Cocke’s, but they would have them to a house of their hiring, where in a barne the goods were laid. I had transires to show for all, and the tale was right, and there I spent all the morning seeing this done. At which Fisher was vexed that I would not let it be done by anybody else for the merchant, and that I must needs be concerned therein, which I did not think fit to own. So that being done, I left the goods to be watched by men on their part and ours, and so to the office by noon, whither by and by comes Captain Cocke, whom I had with great care sent for by express the last night, and so I with him to his house and there eat a bit, and so by coach to Lambeth, and I took occasion first to go to the Duke of Albemarle to acquaint him with some thing of what had been done this morning in behalf of a friend absent, which did give a good entrance and prevented their possessing the Duke with anything of evil of me by their report, and by and by in comes. Captain Cocke and tells his whole story. So an order was made for the putting him in possession upon giving security to be accountable for the goods, which for the present did satisfy us, and so away, giving Locke that drew the order a piece. (Lord! to see how unhappily a man may fall into a necessity of bribing people to do him right in a thing, wherein he hath done nothing but fair, and bought dear.) So to the office, there to write my letters, and Cocke comes to tell me that Fisher is come to him, and that he doubts not to cajole Fisher and his companion and make them friends with drink and a bribe. This night comes Sir Christopher Mings to town, and I went to see him, and by and by he being then out of the town comes to see me. He is newly come from Court,2695 and carries direction for the making a show of getting out the fleet again to go fight the Dutch, but that it will end in a fleet of 20 good sailing frigates to go to the Northward or Southward, and that will be all. I enquired, but he would not be to know that he had heard anything at Oxford about the business of the prize goods, which I did suspect, but he being gone, anon comes Cocke and tells me that he hath been with him a great while, and that he finds him sullen and speaking very high what disrespect he had received of my Lord, saying that he hath walked 3 or 4 hours together at that Earl’s cabin door for audience and could not be received, which, if true, I am sorry for. He tells me that Sir G. Ascue says, that he did from the beginning declare against these [prize] goods, and would not receive his dividend; and that he and Sir W. Penn are at odds about it, and that he fears Mings hath been doing ill offices to my Lord. I did tonight give my Lord an account of all this, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and so in my chamber stayed all the morning doing something toward my Tangier accounts, for the stating of them, and also comes up my landlady, Mrs. Clerke, to make an agreement for the time to come; and I, for the having room enough, and to keepe out strangers, and to have a place to retreat to for my wife, if the sickness should come to Woolwich, am contented to pay dear; so for three rooms and a dining room, and for linen and bread and beer and butter, at nights and mornings, I am to give her £5 10s. per month, and I wrote and we signed to an agreement. By and by comes Cocke to tell me that Fisher and his fellow were last night mightily satisfied and promised all friendship, but this morning he finds them to have new tricks and shall be troubled with them. So he being to go down to Erith with them this afternoon about giving security, I advised him to let them go by land, and so he and I (having eat something at his house) by water to Erith, but they got thither before us, and there we met Mr. Seymour, one of the Commissioners for Prizes, and a Parliament-man, and he was mighty high, and had now seized our goods on their behalf; and he mighty imperiously would have all forfeited, and I know not what. I thought I was in the right in a thing I said and spoke somewhat earnestly, so we took up one another very smartly, for which I was sorry afterwards, showing thereby myself too much concerned, but nothing passed that I valued at all. But I could not but think [it odd] that a Parliament-man, in a serious discourse before such persons as we and my Lord Brouncker, and Sir John Minnes, should quote Hudibras, as being the book I doubt he hath read most. They I doubt will stand hard for high security, and Cocke would have had me bound with him for his appearing, but I did stagger at it, besides Seymour do stop the doing it at all till he has been with the Duke of Albemarle. So there will be another demure. It growing late, and I having something to do at home, took my leave alone, leaving Cocke there for all night, and so against tide and in the dark and very cold weather to Woolwich, where we had appointed to keepe the night merrily; and so, by Captain Cocke’s coach, had brought a very pretty child, a daughter of one Mrs. Tooker’s, next door to my lodging, and so she, and a daughter and kinsman of Mrs. Pett’s made up a fine company at my lodgings at Woolwich, where my wife and Mercer, and Mrs. Barbara danced, and mighty merry we were, but especially at Mercer’s dancing a jig, which she does the best I ever did see, having the most natural way of it, and keeps time the most perfectly I ever did see. This night is kept in lieu of yesterday, for my wedding day of ten years; for which God be praised! being now in an extreme good condition of health and estate and honour, and a way of getting more money, though at this houre under some discomposure, rather than damage, about some prize goods that I have bought off the fleet, in partnership with Captain Cocke; and for the discourse about the world concerning my Lord Sandwich, that he hath done a thing so bad; and indeed it must needs have been a very rash act; and the rather because of a Parliament now newly met to give money, and will have some account of what hath already been spent, besides the precedent for a General to take what prizes he pleases, and the giving a pretence to take away much more than he intended, and all will lie upon him; and not giving to all the Commanders, as well as the Flags, he displeases all them, and offends even some of them, thinking others to be better served than themselves; and lastly, puts himself out of a power of begging anything again a great while of the King. Having danced with my people as long as I saw fit to sit up, I to bed and left them to do what they would. I forgot that we had W. Hewer there, and Tom, and Golding, my barber at Greenwich, for our fiddler, to whom I did give 10s.
. Called up before day, and so I dressed myself and down, it being horrid cold, by water to my Lord Brouncker’s ship, who advised me to do so, and it was civilly to show me what the King had commanded about the prize-goods, to examine most severely all that had been done in the taking out any with or without order, without respect to my Lord Sandwich at all, and that he had been doing of it, and find him examining one man, and I do find that extreme ill use was made of my Lord’s order. For they did toss and tumble and spoil, and breake things in hold to a great losse and shame to come at the fine goods, and did take a man that knows where the fine goods were, and did this over and over again for many days, Sir W. Berkeley being the chief hand that did it, but others did the like at other times, and they did say in doing it that my Lord Sandwich’s back was broad enough to bear it. Having learned as much as I could, which was, that the King and Duke were very severe in this point, whatever order they before had given my Lord in approbation of what he had done, and that all will come out and the King see, by the entries at the Custome House, what all do amount to that had been taken, and so I took leave, and by water, very cold, and to Woolwich where it was now noon, and so I stayed dinner and talking part of the afternoon, and then by coach, Captain Cocke’s, to Greenwich, taking the young lady home, and so to Cocke, and he tells me that he hath cajolled with Seymour, who will be our friend; but that, above all, Seymour tells him, that my Lord Duke did show him today an order from Court, for having all respect paid to the Earl of Sandwich, and what goods had been delivered by his order, which do overjoy us, and that tomorrow our goods shall be weighed, and he doubts not possession tomorrow or next day. Being overjoyed at this I to write my letters, and at it very late. Good news this week that there are about 600 less dead of the plague than the last. So home to bed.
. Lay long, and this morning comes Sir Jer. Smith2696 to see me in his way to Court, and a good man he is, and one that I must keep fair with, and will, it being I perceive my interest to have kindness with the Commanders. So to the office, and there very busy till about noon comes Sir W. Warren, and he goes and gets a bit of meat ready at the King’s Head for us, and I by and by thither, and we dined together, and I am not pleased with him about a little business of Tangier that I put to him to do for me, but however, the hurt is not much, and his other matters of profit to me continue very likely to be good. Here we spent till 2 o’clock, and so I set him on shore, and I by water to the Duke of Albemarle, where I find him with Lord Craven and Lieutenant of the Tower about him; among other things, talking of ships to get of the King to fetch coals for the poore of the city, which is a good worke. But, Lord! to hear the silly talk between these three great people! Yet I have no reason to find fault, the Duke and Lord Craven being my very great friends. Here did the business I come about, and so back home by water, and there Cocke comes to me and tells me that he is come to an understanding with Fisher, and that he must give him £100, and that he shall have his goods in possession tomorrow, they being all weighed today, which pleases me very well. This day the Duke tells me that there is no news heard of the Dutch, what they do or where they are, but believes that they are all gone home, for none of our spies can give us any tidings of them. Cocke is fain to keep these people, Fisher and his fellow, company night and day to keep them friends almost and great troubles withal. My head is full of settling the victualling business also, that I may make some profit out of it, which I hope justly to do to the King’s advantage. Tonight come Sir J. Bankes to me upon my letter to discourse it with him, and he did give me the advice I have taken almost as fully as if I had been directed by him what to write. The business also of my Tangier accounts to be sent to Court is upon my hands in great haste; besides, all my own proper accounts are in great disorder, having been neglected now above a month, which grieves me, but it could not be settled sooner. These together and the feare of the sickness and providing for my family do fill my head very full, besides the infinite business of the office, and nobody here to look after it but myself. So late from my office to my lodgings, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where mighty busy, especially with Mr. Gawden, with whom I shall, I think, have much to do, and by and by comes the Lieutenant of the Tower by my invitation yesterday, but I had got nothing for him, it is to discourse about the Coal ships. So he went away to Sheriffe Hooker’s, and I stayed at the office till he sent for me at noon to dinner, I very hungry. When I come to the Sheriffe’s he was not there, nor in many other places, nor could find him at all, so was forced to come to the office and get a bit of meat from the tavern, and so to my business. By and by comes the Lieutenant and reproaches me with my not treating him as I ought, but all in jest, he it seemed dined with Mr. Adrian May. Very late writing letters at the office, and much satisfied to hear from Captain Cocke that he had got possession of some of his goods to his own house, and expected to have all tonight. The town, I hear, is full of talk that there are great differences in the fleet among the great Commanders, and that Mings at Oxford did impeach my Lord of something, I think about these goods, but this is but talk. But my heart and head tonight is full of the Victualling business, being overjoyed and proud at my success in my proposal about it, it being read before the King, Duke, and the Caball with complete applause and satisfaction. This Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry both writ me, besides Sir W. Coventry’s letter to the Duke of Albemarle, which I read yesterday, and I hope to find my profit in it also. So late home to bed.
. Up, and while I stayed for the barber, tried to compose a duo of counterpoint, and I think it will do very well, it being by Mr. Berckenshaw’s rule. By and by by appointment comes Mr. Povy’s coach, and, more than I expected, him himself, to fetch me to Brainford: so he and I immediately set out, having drunk a draught of mulled sacke; and so rode most nobly, in his most pretty and best contrived chariot in the world, with many new conveniences, his never having till now, within a day or two, been yet finished; our discourse upon Tangier business, want of money, and then of public miscarriages, nobody minding the public, but everybody himself and his lusts. Anon we come to his house, and there I eat a bit, and so with fresh horses, his noble fine horses, the best confessedly in England, the King having none such, he sent me to Sir Robert Viner’s,2697 whom I met coming just from church, and so after having spent half-an-hour almost looking upon the horses with some gentlemen that were in company, he and I into his garden to discourse of money, but none is to be had, he confessing himself in great straits, and I believe it. Having this answer, and that I could not get better, we fell to public talk, and to think how the fleet and seamen will be paid, which he protests he do not think it possible to compass, as the world is now: no money got by trade, nor the persons that have it by them in the City to be come at. The Parliament, it seems, have voted the King £1,250,000 at £50,000 per month, tax for the war; and voted to assist the King against the Dutch, and all that shall adhere to them; and thanks to be given him for his care of the Duke of York, which last is a very popular vote on the Duke’s behalf. He tells me how the taxes of the last assessment, which should have been in good part gathered, are not yet laid, and that even in part of the City of London; and the Chimny-money comes almost to nothing, nor anything else looked after. Having done this I parted, my mind not eased by any money, but only that I had done my part to the King’s service. And so in a very pleasant evening back to Mr. Povy’s, and there supped, and after supper to talk and to sing, his man Dutton’s wife singing very pleasantly (a mighty fat woman), and I wrote out one song from her and pricked the tune, both very pretty. But I did never heare one sing with so much pleasure to herself as this lady do, relishing it to her very heart, which was mighty pleasant.
. Up about seven o’clock; and, after drinking, and I observing Mr. Povy’s being mightily mortifyed in his eating and drinking, and coaches and horses, he desiring to sell his best, and everything else, his furniture of his house, he walked with me to Syon,2698 and there I took water, in our way he discoursing of the wantonness of the Court, and how it minds nothing else, and I saying that that would leave the King shortly if he did not leave it, he told me “No,” for the King do spend most of his time in feeling and kissing them naked … But this lechery will never leave him. Here I took boat (leaving him there) and down to the Tower, where I hear the Duke of Albemarle is, and I to Lombard Street, but can get no money. So upon the Exchange, which is very empty, God knows! and but mean people there. The news for certain that the Dutch are come with their fleet before Margett, and some men were endeavouring to come on shore when the post come away, perhaps to steal some sheep. But, Lord! how Colvill talks of the business of public revenue like a madman, and yet I doubt all true; that nobody minds it, but that the King and Kingdom must speedily be undone, and rails at my Lord about the prizes, but I think knows not my relation to him. Here I endeavoured to satisfy all I could, people about Bills of Exchange from Tangier, but it is only with good words, for money I have not, nor can get. God knows what will become of all the King’s matters in a little time, for he runs in debt every day, and nothing to pay them looked after. Thence I walked to the Tower; but, Lord! how empty the streets are and melancholy, so many poor sick people in the streets full of sores; and so many sad stories overheard as I walk, everybody talking of this dead, and that man sick, and so many in this place, and so many in that. And they tell me that, in Westminster, there is never a physician and but one apothecary left, all being dead; but that there are great hopes of a great decrease this week: God send it! At the Tower found my Lord Duke2699 and Duchess at dinner; so I sat down. And much good cheer, the Lieutenant and his lady, and several officers with the Duke. But, Lord! to hear the silly talk that was there, would make one mad; the Duke having none almost but fools about him. Much of their talk about the Dutch coming on shore, which they believe they may some of them have been and steal sheep, and speak all in reproach of them in whose hands the fleet is; but, Lord help him, there is something will hinder him and all the world in going to sea, which is want of victuals; for we have not wherewith to answer our service; and how much better it would have been if the Duke’s advice had been taken for the fleet to have gone presently out; but, God help the King! while no better counsels are given, and what is given no better taken. Thence after dinner receiving many commands from the Duke, I to our office on the Hill, and there did a little business and to Colvill’s again, and so took water at the Tower, and there met with Captain Cocke, and he down with me to Greenwich, I having received letters from my Lord Sandwich today, speaking very high about the prize goods, that he would have us to fear nobody, but be very confident in what we have done, and not to confess any fault or doubt of what he hath done; for the King hath allowed it, and do now confirm it, and sent orders, as he says, for nothing to be disturbed that his Lordship hath ordered therein as to the division of the goods to the fleet; which do comfort us, but my Lord writes to me that both he and I may hence learn by what we see in this business. But that which pleases me best is that Cocke tells me that he now understands that Fisher was set on in this business by the design of some of the Duke of Albemarle’s people, Warcupp and others, who lent him money to set him out in it, and he has spent high. Who now curse him for a rogue to take £100 when he might have had as well £1,500, and they are mightily fallen out about it. Which in due time shall be discovered, but that now that troubles me afresh is, after I am got to the office at Greenwich that some new troubles are come, and Captain Cocke’s house is beset before and behind with guards, and more, I do fear they may come to my office here to search for Cocke’s goods and find some small things of my clerk’s. So I assisted them in helping to remove their small trade, but by and by I am told that it is only the Custome House men who came to seize the things that did lie at Mr. Glanville’s, for which they did never yet see our Transire, nor did know of them till today. So that my fear is now over, for a transire is ready for them. Cocke did get a great many of his goods to London today. To the Still Yarde, which place, however, is now shut up of the plague; but I was there, and we now make no bones of it. Much talk there is of the Chancellor’s speech and the King’s at the Parliament’s meeting, which are very well liked; and that we shall certainly, by their speeches, fall out with France at this time, together with the Dutch, which will find us work. Late at the office entering my Journal for 8 days past, the greatness of my business hindering me of late to put it down daily, but I have done it now very true and particularly, and hereafter will, I hope, be able to fall into my old way of doing it daily. So to my lodging, and there had a good pullet to my supper, and so to bed, it being very cold again, God be thanked for it!
. Up, and all day long busy at the office, mighty busy, only stepped to my lodging and had a fowl for my dinner, and at night my wife and Mercer comes to me, which troubled me a little because I am to be mighty busy tomorrow all day seriously about my accounts. So late from my office to her, and supped, and so to bed.
. Up, and after some pleasant discourse with my wife (though my head full of business) I out and left her to go home, and myself to the office, and thence by water to the Duke of Albemarle’s, and so back again and find my wife gone. So to my chamber at my lodgings, and to the making of my accounts up of Tangier, which I did with great difficulty, finding the difference between short and long reckonings where I have had occasion to mix my moneys, as I have of late done my Tangier treasure upon other occasions, and other moneys upon that. However, I was at it late and did it pretty perfectly, and so, after eating something, to bed, my mind eased of a great deal of figures and castings.
. Up, and to my accounts again, and stated them very clear and fair, and at noon dined at my lodgings with Mr. Hater and W. Hewer at table with me, I being come to an agreement yesterday with my landlady for £6 per month, for so many rooms for myself, them, and my wife and maid, when she shall come, and to pay besides for my diet. After dinner I did give them my accounts and letters to write against I went to the Duke of Albemarle’s this evening, which I did; and among other things, spoke to him for my wife’s brother, Balty, to be of his guard, which he kindly answered that he should. My business of the Victualling goes on as I would have it; and now my head is full how to make some profit of it to myself or people. To that end, when I came home, I wrote a letter to Mr. Coventry, offering myself to be the Surveyor General, and am apt to think he will assist me in it, but I do not set my heart much on it, though it would be a good help. So back to my office, and there till past one before I could get all these letters and papers copied out, which vexed me, but so sent them away without hopes of saving the post, and so to my lodging to bed.
. Up, and had my last night’s letters brought back to me, which troubles me, because of my accounts, lest they should be asked for before they come, which I abhor, being more ready to give than they can be to demand them: so I sent away an express to Oxford with them, and another to Portsmouth, with a copy of my letter to Mr. Coventry about my victualling business, for fear he should be gone from Oxford, as he intended, thither. So busy all the morning and at noon to Cocke, and dined there. He and I alone, vexed that we are not rid of all our trouble about our goods, but it is almost over, and in the afternoon to my lodging, and there spent the whole afternoon and evening with Mr. Hater, discoursing of the business of the office, where he tells me that among others Thomas Willson do now and then seem to hint that I do take too much business upon me, more than I can do, and that therefore some do lie undone. This I confess to my trouble is true, but it arises from my being forced to take so much on me, more than is my proper task to undertake. But for this at last I did advise to him to take another clerk if he thinks fit, I will take care to have him paid. I discoursed also much with him about persons fit to be put into the victualling business, and such as I could spare something out of their salaries for them, but without trouble I cannot, I see, well do it, because Thomas Willson must have the refusal of the best place which is London of £200 per annum, which I did intend for Tooker, and to get £50 out of it as a help to Mr. Hater. How[ever], I will try to do something of this kind for them. Having done discourse with him late, I to enter my Tangier accounts fair, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning, and then with my two clerks home to dinner, and so back again to the office, and there very late very busy, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after ready and going to Captain Cocke’s, where I find we are a little further safe in some part of our goods, I to Church, in my way was meeting with some letters, which made me resolve to go after church to my Lord Duke of Albemarle’s, so, after sermon, I took Cocke’s chariot, and to Lambeth; but, in going and getting over the water, and through Whitehall, I spent so much time, the Duke had almost dined. However, fresh meat was brought for me to his table, and there I dined, and full of discourse and very kind. Here they are again talking of the prizes, and my Lord Duke did speake very broad that my Lord Sandwich and Penn should do what they would, and answer for themselves. For his part, he would lay all before the King. Here he tells me the Dutch Embassador at Oxford is clapped up, but since I hear it is not true. Thence back again, it being evening before I could get home, and there Cocke not being within, I and Mr. Salomon to Mr. Glanville’s, and there we found Cocke and sat and supped, and was mighty merry with only Madam Penington,2700 who is a fine, witty lady. Here we spent the evening late with great mirth, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and after doing some business I down by water, calling to see my wife, with whom very merry for ten minutes, and so to Erith, where my Lord Brouncker and I kept the office, and dispatched some business by appointment on the Bezan. Among other things about the slopsellers, who have trusted us so long, they are not able, nor can be expected to trust us further, and I fear this winter the fleet will be undone by that particular. Thence on board the East India ship, where my Lord Brouncker had provided a great dinner, and thither comes by and by Sir John Minnes and before him Sir W. Warren and anon a Perspective glasse maker, of whom we, every one, bought a pocket glasse. But I am troubled with the much talk and conceitedness of Mrs. Williams and her impudence, in case she be not married to my Lord. They are getting themselves ready to deliver the goods all out to the East India Company, who are to have the goods in their possession and to advance two thirds of the moderate value thereof and sell them as well as they can and the King to give them 6 percent for the use of the money they shall so advance. By this means the company will not suffer by the King’s goods bringing down the price of their own. Thence in the evening back again with Sir W. Warren and Captain Taylor in my boat, and the latter went with me to the office, and there he and I reckoned; and I perceive I shall get £100 profit by my services of late to him, which is a very good thing. Thence to my lodging, where I find my Lord Rutherford, of which I was glad. We supped together and sat up late, he being a mighty wanton man with a daughter in law of my landlady’s, a pretty conceited woman big with child, and he would be handling her breasts, which she coyly refused. But they gone, my Lord and I to business, and he would have me forbear paying Alderman Backewell the money ordered him, which I, in hopes to advantage myself, shall forbear, but do not think that my Lord will do anything gratefully more to me than he hath done, not that I shall get anything as I pretended by helping him to interest for his last £7,700, which I could do, and do him a courtesy too. Discourse being done, he to bed in my chamber and I to another in the house.
. Lay long, having a cold. Then to my Lord and sent him going to Oxford, and I to my office, whither comes Sir William Batten now newly from Oxford. I can gather nothing from him about my Lord Sandwich about the business of the prizes, he being close, but he showed me a bill which hath been read in the House making all breaking of bulke for the time to come felony, but it is a foolish Act, and will do no great matter, only is calculated to my Lord Sandwich’s case. He showed me also a good letter printed from the Bishop of Munster to the States of Holland showing the state of their case. Here we did some business and so broke up and I to Cocke, where Mr. Evelyn was, to dinner, and there merry, yet vexed again at public matters, and to see how little heed is had to the prisoners and sicke and wounded. Thence to my office, and no sooner there but to my great surprise am told that my Lord Sandwich is come to town; so I presently to Boreman’s, where he is and there found him: he mighty kind to me, but no opportunity of discourse private yet, which he tells me he must have with me; only his business is sudden to go to the fleet, to get out a few ships to drive away the Dutch. I left him in discourse with Sir W. Batten and others, and myself to the office till about 10 at night and so, letters being done, I to him again to Captain Cocke’s, where he supped, and lies, and never saw him more merry, and here is Charles Herbert, who the King hath lately knighted.2701 My Lord, to my great content, did tell me before them, that never anything was read to the King and Council, all the chief Ministers of State being there, as my letter about the Victualling was, and no more said upon it than a most thorough consent to every word was said, and directed, that it be pursued and practised. After much mirth, and my Lord having travelled all night last night, he to bed, and we all parted, I home.
. Up and to my Lord Sandwich’s, where several Commanders, of whom I took the state of all their ships, and of all could find not above four capable of going out. The truth is, the want of victuals being the whole overthrow of this yeare both at sea, and now at the Nore here and Portsmouth, where all the fleet lies. By and by comes down my Lord, and then he and I an houre together alone upon private discourse. He tells me that Mr. Coventry and he are not reconciled, but declared enemies: the only occasion of it being, he tells me, his ill usage from him about the first fight, wherein he had no right done him, which, methinks, is a poor occasion, for, in my conscience, that was no design of Coventry’s. But, however, when I asked my Lord whether it were not best, though with some condescension, to be friends with him, he told me it was not possible, and so I stopped. He tells me, as very private, that there are great factions at the Court between the King’s party and the Duke of York’s, and that the King, which is a strange difficulty, do favour my Lord in opposition to the Duke’s party; that my Lord Chancellor, being, to be sure, the patron of the Duke’s, it is a mystery whence it should be that Mr. Coventry is looked upon by him [Clarendon] as an enemy to him; that if he had a mind himself to be out of this employment, as Mr. Coventry, he believes, wishes, and himself and I do incline to wish it also, in many respects, yet he believes he shall not be able, because of the King, who will keepe him in on purpose, in opposition to the other party; that Prince Rupert and he are all possible friends in the world; that Coventry hath aggravated this business of the prizes, though never so great plundering in the world as while the Duke and he were at sea; and in Sir John Lawson’s time he could take and pillage, and then sink a whole ship in the Streights, and Coventry say nothing to it; that my Lord Arlington is his fast friend; that the Chancellor is cold to him, and though I told him that I and the world do take my Lord Chancellor, in his speech the other day, to have said as much as could be wished, yet he thinks he did not. That my Lord Chancellor do from hence begin to be cold to him, because of his seeing him and Arlington so great: that nothing at Court is minded but faction and pleasure, and nothing intended of general good to the kingdom by anybody heartily; so that he believes with me, in a little time confusion will certainly come over all the nation. He told me how a design was carried on a while ago, for the Duke of York to raise an army in the North, and to be the General of it, and all this without the knowledge or advice of the Duke of Albemarle, which when he come to know, he was so vexed, they were fain to let it fall to content him: that his matching with the family of Sir G. Carteret do make the difference greater between Coventry and him, they being enemies; that the Chancellor did, as everybody else, speak well of me the other day, but yet was, at the Committee for Tangier, angry that I should offer to suffer a bill of exchange to be protested. So my Lord did bid me take heed, for that I might easily suppose I could not want enemies, no more than others. In all he speaks with the greatest trust and love and confidence in what I say or do, that a man can do. After this discourse ended we sat down to dinner and mighty merry, among other things, at the Bill brought into the House to make it felony to break bulke, which, as my Lord says well, will make that no prizes shall be taken, or, if taken, shall be sunke after plundering; and the Act for the method of gathering this last £1,250,000 now voted, and how paid wherein are several strange imperfections. After dinner my Lord by a ketch down to Erith, where the Bezan was, it blowing these last two days and now both night and day very hard southwardly, so that it has certainly drove the Dutch off the coast. My Lord being gone I to the office, and there find Captain Ferrers, who tells me his wife is come to town to see him, having not seen him since 15 weeks ago at his first going to sea last. She is now at a Tavern and stays all night, so I was obliged to give him my house and chamber to lie in, which he with great modesty and after much force took, and so I got Mr. Evelyn’s coach to carry her thither, and the coach coming back, I with Mr. Evelyn to Deptford, where a little while with him doing a little business, and so in his coach back again to my lodgings, and there sat with Mrs. Ferrers two hours, and with my little girl, Mistress Frances Tooker, and very pleasant. Anon the Captain comes, and then to supper very merry, and so I led them to bed. And so to bed myself, having seen my pretty little girl home first at the next door.
. Up, and, leaving my guests to make themselves ready, I to the office, and thither comes Sir Jer. Smith and Sir Christopher Mings to see me, being just come from Portsmouth and going down to the Fleet. Here I sat and talked with them a good while and then parted, only Sir Christopher Mings and I together by water to the Tower; and I find him a very witty well-spoken fellow, and mighty free to tell his parentage, being a shoemaker’s son, to whom he is now going, and I to the ’Change, where I hear how the French have taken two and sunk one of our merchantmen in the Streights, and carried the ships to Toulon; so that there is no expectation but we must fall out with them. The ’Change pretty full, and the town begins to be lively again, though the streets very empty, and most shops shut. So back again I and took boat and called for Sir Christopher Mings at St. Katharine’s, who was followed with some ordinary friends, of which, he says, he is proud, and so down to Greenwich, the wind furious high, and we with our sail up till I made it be taken down. I took him, it being 3 o’clock, to my lodgings and did give him a good dinner and so parted, he being pretty close to me as to any business of the fleet, knowing me to be a servant of my Lord Sandwich’s. He gone I to the office till night, and then they come and tell me my wife is come to town, so I to her vexed at her coming, but it was upon innocent business, so I was pleased and made her stay, Captain Ferrers and his lady being yet there, and so I left them to dance, and I to the office till past nine at night, and so to them and there saw them dance very prettily, the Captain and his wife, my wife and Mrs. Barbary, and Mercer and my landlady’s daughter, and then little Mistress Frances Tooker and her mother, a pretty woman come to see my wife. Anon to supper, and then to dance again (Golding being our fiddler, who plays very well and all tunes) till past twelve at night, and then we broke up and everyone to bed, we make shift for all our company, Mrs. Tooker being gone.
. Up, and after some pleasant discourse with my wife, I out, leaving her and Mrs. Ferrers there, and I to Captain Cocke’s, there to do some business, and then away with Cocke in his coach through Kent Street, a miserable, wretched, poor place, people sitting sicke and muffled up with plasters at every 4 or 5 doors. So to the ’Change, and thence I by water to the Duke of Albemarle’s, and there much company, but I stayed and dined, and he makes mighty much of me; and here he tells us the Dutch are gone, and have lost above 160 cables and anchors, through the last foule weather. Here he proposed to me from Mr. Coventry, as I had desired of Mr. Coventry, that I should be Surveyor-General of the Victualling business, which I accepted. But, indeed, the terms in which Mr. Coventry proposes it for me are the most obliging that ever I could expect from any man, and more; it saying me to be the fittest man in England, and that he is sure, if I will undertake, I will perform it; and that it will be also a very desirable thing that I might have this encouragement, my encouragement in the Navy alone being in no wise proportionable to my pains or deserts. This, added to the letter I had three days since from Mr. Southerne,2702 signifying that the Duke of York had in his master’s absence opened my letter, and commanded him to tell me that he did approve of my being the Surveyor-General, do make me joyful beyond myself that I cannot express it, to see that as I do take pains, so God blesses me, and hath sent me masters that do observe that I take pains. After having done here, I back by water and to London, and there met with Captain Cocke’s coach again, and I went in it to Greenwich and thence sent my wife in it to Woolwich, and I to the office, and thence home late with Captain Taylor, and he and I settled all accounts between us, and I do find that I do get above £129 of him for my services for him within these six months. At it till almost one in the morning, and after supper he away and I to bed, mightily satisfied in all this, and in a resolution I have taken tonight with Mr. Hater to propose the port of London for the victualling business for Thomas Willson, by which it will be better done and I at more ease, in case he should grumble.2703 So to bed.
. Up, and sent for Thomas Willson, and broke the victualling business to him and he is mightily contented, and so am I that I have bestowed it on him, and so I to Mr. Boreman’s, where Sir W. Batten is, to tell him what I had proposed to Thomas Willson, and the news also I have this morning from Sir W. Clerke, which is, that notwithstanding all the care the Duke of Albemarle hath taken about the putting the East India prize goods into the East India Company’s hands, and my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes having laden out a great part of the goods, an order is come from Court to stop all, and to have the goods delivered to the Sub-Commissioners of prizes. At which I am glad, because it do vex this simple weake man, and we shall have a little reparation for the disgrace my Lord Sandwich has had in it. He tells me also that the Parliament hath given the Duke of York £120,000, to be paid him after the £1,250,000 is gathered upon the tax which they have now given the King.2704 He tells me that the Dutch have lately launched sixteen new ships; all which is great news. Thence by horsebacke with Mr. Deane to Erith, and so aboard my Lord Brouncker and dined, and very merry with him and good discourse between them about ship building, and, after dinner and a little pleasant discourse, we away and by horse back again to Greenwich, and there I to the office very late, offering my persons for all the victualling posts much to my satisfaction. Also much other business I did to my mind, and so weary home to my lodging, and there after eating and drinking a little I to bed. The King and Court, they say, have now finally resolved to spend nothing upon clothes, but what is of the growth of England; which, if observed, will be very pleasing to the people, and very good for them.
. Up, and being ready set out with Captain Cocke in his coach toward Erith, Mr. Deane riding along with us, where we dined and were very merry. After dinner we fell to discourse about the Dutch, Cocke undertaking to prove that they were able to wage war with us three years together, which, though it may be true, yet, not being satisfied with his arguments, my Lord and I did oppose the strength of his arguments, which brought us to a great heate, he being a conceited man, but of no Logic in his head at all, which made my Lord and I mirth. Anon we parted, and back again, we hardly having a word all the way, he being so vexed at our not yielding to his persuasion. I was set down at Woolwich town end, and walked through the town in the dark, it being now night. But in the street did overtake and almost run upon two women crying and carrying a man’s coffin between them. I suppose the husband of one of them, which, methinks, is a sad thing. Being come to Shelden’s, I find my people in the dark in the dining room, merry and laughing, and, I thought, sporting one with another, which, God help me! raised my jealousy presently. Come in the dark, and one of them touching me (which afterward I found was Susan) made them shriek, and so went out upstairs, leaving them to light a candle and to run out. I went out and was very vexed till I found my wife was gone with Mr. Hill and Mercer this day to see me at Greenwich, and these people were at supper, and the candle on a sudden falling out of the candlesticke (which I saw as I come through the yarde) and Mrs. Barbary being there I was well at ease again, and so bethought myself what to do, whether to go to Greenwich or stay there; at last go I would, and so with a lanterne, and 3 or 4 people with me, among others Mr. Browne, who was there, would go, I walked with a lanterne and discoursed with him about paynting and the several sorts of it. I came in good time to Greenwich, where I found Mr. Hill with my wife, and very glad I was to see him. To supper and discourse of music and so to bed, I lying with him talking till midnight about Berckenshaw’s music rules, which I did to his great satisfaction inform him in, and so to sleep.
. Up, and to my office about business. At noon to dinner, and after some discourse of music, he and I to the office awhile, and he to get Mr. Coleman, if he can, against night. By and by I back again home, and there find him returned with Mr. Coleman2705 (his wife being ill) and Mr. Laneare,2706 with whom with their Lute we had excellent company and good singing till midnight, and a good supper I did give them, but Coleman’s voice is quite spoiled, and when he begins to be drunk he is excellent company, but afterward troublesome and impertinent. Laneare sings in a melancholy method very well, and a sober man he seems to be. They being gone, we to bed. Captain Ferrers coming this day from my Lord is forced to lodge here, and I put him to Mr. Hill.
. Up, and to the office, Captain Ferrers going back betimes to my Lord. I to the office, where Sir W. Batten met me, and did tell me that Captain Cocke’s black was dead of the plague, which I had heard of before, but took no notice. By and by Captain Cocke come to the office, and Sir W. Batten and I did send to him that he would either forbear the office, or forbear going to his own office. However, meeting yesterday the Searchers with their rods in their hands coming from Captain Cocke’s house, I did overhear them say that the fellow did not die of the plague, but he had I know been ill a good while, and I am told that his boy Jack is also ill. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, leaving Mr. Hill if he can to get Mrs. Coleman at night. About nine at night I come home, and there find Mrs. Pierce come and little Fran. Tooker, and Mr. Hill, and other people, a great many dancing, and anon comes Mrs. Coleman with her husband and Laneare. The dancing ended and to sing, which Mrs. Coleman do very finely, though her voice is decayed as to strength but mighty sweet though soft, and a pleasant jolly woman, and in mighty good humour was tonight. Among other things Laneare did, at the request of Mr. Hill, bring two or three the finest prints for my wife to see that ever I did see in all my life. But for singing, among other things, we got Mrs. Coleman to sing part of the Opera, though she won’t own that ever she did get any of it without book in order to the stage; but, above all, her counterfeiting of Captain Cooke’s part, in his reproaching his man with cowardice, “Base slave,” etc., she do it most excellently. At it till past midnight, and then broke up and to bed. Hill and I together again, and being very sleepy we had little discourse as we had the other night. Thus we end the month merrily; and the more for that, after some fears that the plague would have increased again this week, I hear for certain that there is above 400 [less], the whole number being 1,388, and of them of the plague, 1,031. Want of money in the Navy puts everything out of order. Men grow mutinous; and nobody here to mind the business of the Navy but myself. At least Sir W. Batten for the few days he has been here do nothing. I in great hopes of my place of Surveyor-General of the Victualling, which will bring me £300 per annum.
November 1665
. Lay very long in bed discoursing with Mr. Hill of most things of a man’s life, and how little merit do prevail in the world, but only favour; and that, for myself, chance without merit brought me in; and that diligence only keeps me so, and will, living as I do among so many lazy people that the diligent man becomes necessary, that they cannot do anything without him, and so told him of my late business of the victualling, and what cares I am in to keepe myself having to do with people of so different factions at Court, and yet must be fair with them all, which was very pleasant discourse for me to tell, as well as he seemed to take it, for him to hear. At last up, and it being a very foule day for rain and a hideous wind, yet having promised I would go by water to Erith, and bearing sail was in danger of oversetting, but ordered them take down their sail, and so cold and wet got thither, as they had ended their dinner. How[ever], I dined well, and after dinner all on shore, my Lord Brouncker with us to Mrs. Williams’s lodgings, and Sir W. Batten, Sir Edmund Pooly,2707 and others; and there, it being my Lord’s birthday, had every one a green riband tied in our hats very foolishly; and methinks mighty disgracefully for my Lord to have his folly so open to all the world with this woman. But by and by Sir W. Batten and I took coach, and home to Boreman, and so going home by the backside I saw Captain Cocke ’lighting out of his coach (having been at Erith also with her but not on board) and so he would come along with me to my lodging, and there sat and supped and talked with us, but we were angry a little a while about our message to him the other day about bidding him keepe from the office or his own office, because of his black dying. I owned it and the reason of it, and would have been glad he had been out of the house, but I could not bid him go, and so supped, and after much other talk of the sad condition and state of the King’s matters we broke up, and my friend and I to bed. This night coming with Sir W. Batten into Greenwich we called upon Coll. Cleggatt, who tells us for certaine that the King of Denmark hath declared to stand for the King of England, but since I hear it is wholly false.
. Up, left my wife and to the office, and there to my great content Sir W. Warren come to me to settle the business of the Tangier boates, wherein I shall get above £100, besides £100 which he gives me in the paying for them out of his own purse. He gone, I home to my lodgings to dinner, and there comes Captain Wager2708 newly returned from the Streights, who puts me in great fear for our last ships that went to Tangier with provisions, that they will be taken. A brave, stout fellow this Captain is, and I think very honest. To the office again after dinner and there late writing letters, and then about 8 at night set out from my office and fitting myself at my lodgings intended to have gone this night in a Ketch down to the Fleet, but calling in my way at Sir J. Minnes’s, who is come up from Erith about something about the prizes, they persuaded me not to go till the morning, it being a horrible dark and a windy night. So I back to my lodging and to bed.
. Was called up about four o’clock and in the dark by lanterne took boat and to the Ketch and set sail, sleeping a little in the Cabin till day and then up and fell to reading of Mr. Evelyn’s book about Paynting,2709 which is a very pretty book. Carrying good victuals and Tom with me I to breakfast about 9 o’clock, and then to read again and come to the Fleet about twelve, where I found my Lord (the Prince being gone in) on board the Royal James, Sir Thomas Allen commander, and with my Lord an houre alone discoursing what was my chief and only errand about what was adviseable for his Lordship to do in this state of things, himself being under the Duke of York’s and Mr. Coventry’s envy, and a great many more and likely never to do anything honourably but he shall be envied and the honour taken as much as can be from it. His absence lessens his interest at Court, and what is worst we never able to set out a fleet fit for him to command, or, if out, to keepe them out or fit them to do any great thing, or if that were so yet nobody at home minds him or his condition when he is abroad, and lastly the whole affairs of state looking as if they would all on a sudden break in pieces, and then what a sad thing it would be for him to be out of the way. My Lord did concur in everything and thanked me infinitely for my visit and counsel, telling me that in everything he concurs, but puts a query, what if the King will not think himself safe, if any man should go but him. How he should go off then? To that I had no answer ready, but the making the King see that he may be of as good use to him here while another goes forth. But for that I am not able to say much. We after this talked of some other little things and so to dinner, where my Lord infinitely kind to me, and after dinner I rose and left him with some Commanders at the table taking tobacco and I took the Bezan back with me, and with a brave gale and tide reached up that night to the Hope, taking great pleasure in learning the seamen’s manner of singing when they sound the depths, and then to supper and to sleep, which I did most excellently all night, it being a horrible foule night for wind and rain.
. They sailed from midnight, and come to Greenwich about 5 o’clock in the morning. I however lay till about 7 or 8, and so to my office, my head a little aching, partly for want of natural rest, partly having so much business to do today, and partly from the news I hear that one of the little boys at my lodging is not well; and they suspect, by their sending for plaister and fume, that it may be the plague; so I sent Mr. Hater and W. Hewer to speake with the mother; but they returned to me, satisfied that there is no hurt nor danger, but the boy is well, and offers to be searched, however, I was resolved myself to abstain coming thither for a while. Sir W. Batten and myself at the office all the morning. At noon with him to dinner at Boreman’s, where Mr. Seymour with us, who is a most conceited fellow and not over much in him. Here Sir W. Batten told us (which I had not heard before) that the last sitting day his cloake was taken from Mingo he going home to dinner, and that he was beaten by the seamen and swears he will come to Greenwich, but no more to the office till he can sit safe. After dinner I to the office and there late, and much troubled to have 100 seamen all the afternoon there, swearing below and cursing us, and breaking the glasse windows, and swear they will pull the house down on Tuesday next. I sent word of this to Court, but nothing will help it but money and a rope. Late at night to Mr. Glanville’s there to lie for a night or two, and to bed.
. Up, and after being trimmed, by boat to the Cockpit, where I heard the Duke of Albemarle’s chaplain2710 make a simple sermon: among other things, reproaching the imperfection of humane learning, he cried: “All our physicians cannot tell what an ague is, and all our arithmetic is not able to number the days of a man;” which, God knows, is not the fault of arithmetic, but that our understandings reach not the thing. To dinner, where a great deal of silly discourse, but the worst is I hear that the plague increases much at Lambeth, St. Martin’s and Westminster, and fear it will all over the city. Thence I to the Swan, thinking to have seen Sarah but she was at church, and so I by water to Deptford, and there made a visit to Mr. Evelyn, who, among other things, showed me most excellent painting in little; in distemper, Indian ink, water colours: graving; and, above all, the whole secret of mezzo-tinto, and the manner of it, which is very pretty, and good things done with it.2711 He read to me very much also of his discourse, he hath been many years and now is about, about Guardenage; which will be a most noble and pleasant piece. He read me part of a play or two of his making, very good, but not as he conceits them, I think, to be. He showed me his Hortus Hyemalis; leaves laid up in a book of several plants kept dry, which preserve colour, however, and look very finely, better than any Herball. In fine, a most excellent person he is, and must be allowed a little for a little conceitedness; but he may well be so, being a man so much above others. He read me, though with too much gusto, some little poems of his own, that were not transcendant, yet one or two very pretty epigrams; among others, of a lady looking in at a grate, and being pecked at by an eagle that was there. Here comes in, in the middle of our discourse Captain Cocke, as drunk as a dog, but could stand, and talk and laugh. He did so joy himself in a brave woman that he had been with all the afternoon, and who should it be but my Lady Robinson, but very troublesome he is with his noise and talk, and laughing, though very pleasant. With him in his coach to Mr. Glanville’s, where he sat with Mrs. Penington and myself a good while talking of this fine woman again and then went away. Then the lady and I to very serious discourse and, among other things, of what a bonny lasse my Lady Robinson is, who is reported to be kind to the prisoners, and has said to Sir G. Smith, who is her great crony, “Look! there is a pretty man, I would be content to break a commandment with him,” and such loose expressions she will have often. After an houre’s talk we to bed, the lady mightily troubled about a pretty little bitch she hath, which is very sicke, and will eat nothing, and the worst was, I could hear her in her chamber bemoaning the bitch, and by and by taking her into bed with her. The bitch pissed and shit a bed, and she was fain to rise and had coals out of my chamber to dry the bed again. This night I had a letter that Sir G. Carteret would be in town tomorrow, which did much surprise me.
. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning and then to dinner to Captain Cocke’s with Mr. Evelyn, where very merry, only vexed after dinner to stay too long for our coach. At last, however, to Lambeth and thence the Cockpit, where we found Sir G. Carteret come, and in with the Duke and the East India Company about settling the business of the prizes, and they have gone through with it. Then they broke up, and Sir G. Carteret come out, and thence through the garden to the water side and by water I with him in his boat down with Captain Cocke to his house at Greenwich, and while supper was getting ready Sir G. Carteret and I did walk an houre in the garden before the house, talking of my Lord Sandwich’s business; what enemies he hath, and how they have endeavoured to bespatter him: and particularly about his leaving of 30 ships of the enemy, when Penn would have gone, and my Lord called him back again: which is most false. However, he says, it was purposed by some hotheads in the House of Commons, at the same time when they voted a present to the Duke of York, to have voted £10,000 to the Prince, and half-a-crown to my Lord of Sandwich; but nothing come of it.2712 But, for all this, the King is most firme to my Lord, and so is my Lord Chancellor, and my Lord Arlington. The Prince, in appearance, kind; the Duke of York silent, says no hurt; but admits others to say it in his hearing. Sir W. Penn, the falsest rascal that ever was in the world; and that this afternoon the Duke of Albemarle did tell him that Penn was a very cowardly rogue, and one that hath brought all these rogueish fanatick Captains into the fleet, and swears he should never go out with the fleet again. That Sir W. Coventry is most kind to Penn still; and says nothing nor do anything openly to the prejudice of my Lord. He agrees with me, that it is impossible for the King [to] set out a fleet again the next year; and that he fears all will come to ruin, there being no money in prospect but these prizes, which will bring, it may be, £20,000, but that will signify nothing in the world for it. That this late Act of Parliament for bringing the money into the Exchequer, and making of it payable out there, intended as a prejudice to him and will be his convenience hereafter and ruin the King’s business, and so I fear it will and do wonder Sir W. Coventry would be led by Sir G. Downing to persuade the King and Duke to have it so, before they had thoroughly weighed all circumstances; that for my Lord, the King has said to him lately that I was an excellent officer, and that my Lord Chancellor do, he thinks, love and esteem of me as well as he do of any man in England that he hath no more acquaintance with. So having done and received from me the sad news that we are like to have no money here a great while, not even of the very prizes, I set up my rest2713 in giving up the King’s service to be ruined and so in to supper, where pretty merry, and after supper late to Mr. Glanville’s, and Sir G. Carteret to bed. I also to bed, it being very late.
. Up, and to Sir G. Carteret, and with him, he being very passionate to be gone, without staying a minute for breakfast, to the Duke of Albemarle’s and I with him by water and with Fen: but, among other things, Lord! to see how he wondered to see the river so empty of boats, nobody working at the Custome-house keys; and how fearful he is, and vexed that his man, holding a wine-glasse in his hand for him to drinke out of, did cover his hands, it being a cold, windy, rainy morning, under the waterman’s coat, though he brought the waterman from six or seven miles up the river, too. Nay, he carried this glasse with him for his man to let him drink out of at the Duke of Albemarle’s, where he intended to dine, though this he did to prevent sluttery, for, for the same reason he carried a napkin with him to Captain Cocke’s, making him believe that he should eat with foule linen. Here he with the Duke walked a good while in the Park, and I with Fen, but cannot gather that he intends to stay with us, nor thinks anything at all of ever paying one farthing of money more to us here, let what will come of it. Thence in, and Sir W. Batten comes in by and by, and so staying till noon, and there being a great deal of company there, Sir W. Batten and I took leave of the Duke and Sir G. Carteret, there being no good to be done more for money, and so over the River and by coach to Greenwich, where at Boreman’s we dined, it being late. Thence my head being full of business and mind out of order for thinking of the effects which will arise from the want of money, I made an end of my letters by eight o’clock, and so to my lodging and there spent the evening till midnight talking with Mrs. Penington, who is a very discreet, understanding lady and very pretty discourse we had and great variety, and she tells me with great sorrow her bitch is dead this morning, died in her bed. So broke up and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy among other things to looke my warrants for the settling of the Victualling business, the warrants being come to me for the Surveyors of the ports and that for me also to be Surveyor-General. I did discourse largely with Tom Willson about it and doubt not to make it a good service to the King as well, as the King gives us very good salaries. It being a fast day, all people were at church and the office quiet; so I did much business, and at noon adventured to my old lodging, and there eat, but am not yet well satisfied, not seeing of Christopher, though they say he is abroad. Thence after dinner to the office again, and thence am sent for to the King’s Head by my Lord Rutherford, who, since I can hope for no more convenience from him, his business is troublesome to me, and therefore I did leave him as soon as I could and by water to Deptford, and there did order my matters so, walking up and down the fields till it was dark night, that je allais à la maison of my valentine2714 and there je faisais whatever je voudrais avec her, and, about eight at night, did take water, being glad I was out of the town; for the plague, it seems, rages there more than ever, and so to my lodgings, where my Lord had got a supper and the mistress of the house, and her daughters, and here stayed Mrs. Pierce to speake with me about her husband’s business, and I made her sup with us, and then at night my Lord and I walked with her home, and so back again. My Lord and I ended all we had to say as to his business overnight, and so I took leave, and went again to Mr. Glanville’s and so to bed, it being very late.
. Up, and did give the servants something at Mr. Glanville’s and so took leave, meaning to lie tonight at my own lodging. To my office, where busy with Mr. Gawden running over the Victualling business, and he is mightily pleased that this course is taking and seems sensible of my favour and promises kindness to me. At noon by water, to the King’s Head at Deptford, where Captain Taylor invites Sir W: Batten, Sir John Robinson (who come in with a great deal of company from hunting, and brought in a hare alive and a great many silly stories they tell of their sport, which pleases them mightily, and me not at all, such is the different sense of pleasure in mankind), and others upon the score of a survey of his new ship; and strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody, Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Robinson being now as kind to him, and report well of his ship and proceedings, and promise money, and Sir W. Batten is a solicitor for him, but it is a strange thing to observe, they being the greatest enemies he had, and yet, I believe, hath in the world in their hearts. Thence after dinner stole away and to my office, where did a great deal of business till midnight, and then to Mrs. Clerk’s, to lodge again, and going home W. Hewer did tell me my wife will be here tomorrow, and hath put away Mary, which vexes me to the heart, I cannot help it, though it may be a folly in me, and when I think seriously on it, I think my wife means no ill design in it, or, if she do, I am a foole to be troubled at it, since I cannot help it. The Bill of Mortality, to all our griefs, is increased 399 this week, and the increase generally through the whole City and suburbs, which makes us all sad.2715
. Up, and entered all my Journal since the 28th of October, having every day’s passages well in my head, though it troubles me to remember it, and which I was forced to, being kept from my lodging, where my books and papers are, for several days. So to my office, where till two or three o’clock busy before I could go to my lodging to dinner, then did it and to my office again. In the evening news is brought me my wife is come: so I to her, and with her spent the evening, but with no great pleasure, I being vexed about her putting away of Mary in my absence, but yet I took no notice of it at all, but fell into other discourse, and she told me, having herself been this day at my house at London, which was boldly done, to see Mary have her things, that Mr. Harrington, our neighbour, an East country merchant, is dead at Epsum of the plague, and that another neighbour of ours, Mr. Hollworthy, a very able man, is also dead by a fall in the country from his horse, his foot hanging in the stirrup, and his brains beat out. Here we sat talking, and after supper to bed.
. I up and to the office (leaving my wife in bed) and there till noon, then to dinner and back again to the office, my wife going to Woolwich again, and I staying very late at my office, and so home to bed.
. Up, and invited by Captain Cocke to dinner. So after being ready I went to him, and there he and I and Mr. Yard (one of the Guinea Company) dined together and very merry. After dinner I by water to the Duke of Albemarle, and there had a little discourse and business with him, chiefly to receive his commands about pilots to be got for our Hambro’ ships, going now at this time of the year convoy to the merchant ships, that have lain at great pain and charge, some three, some four months at Harwich for a convoy. They hope here the plague will be less this weeke. Thence back by water to Captain Cocke’s, and there he and I spent a great deal of the evening as we had done of the day reading and discoursing over part of Mr. Stillingfleet’s Origines Sacræ,2716 wherein many things are very good and some frivolous. Thence by and by he and I to Mrs. Penington’s, but she was gone to bed. So we back and walked a while, and then to his house and to supper, and then broke up, and I home to my lodging to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning, and at noon to Captain Cocke’s to dinner as we had appointed in order to settle our business of accounts. But here came in an Alderman, a merchant, a very merry man, and we dined, and, he being gone, after dinner Cocke and I walked into the garden, and there after a little discourse he did undertake under his hand to secure me in £500 profit, for my share of the profit of what we have bought of the prize goods. We agreed upon the terms, which were easier on my side than I expected, and so with extraordinary inward joy we parted till the evening. So I to the office and among other business prepared a deed for him to sign and seale to me about our agreement, which at night I got him to come and sign and seale, and so he and I to Glanville’s, and there he and I sat talking and playing with Mrs. Penington, whom we found undrest in her smocke and petticoats by the fireside, and there we drank and laughed, and she willingly suffered me to put my hand in her bosom very wantonly, and keep it there long. Which methought was very strange, and I looked upon myself as a man mightily deceived in a lady, for I could not have thought she could have suffered it, by her former discourse with me; so modest she seemed and I know not what. We stayed here late, and so home after he and I had walked till past midnight, a bright moonshine, clear, cool night, before his door by the water, and so I home after one of the clock.
. Called up by break of day by Captain Cocke, by agreement, and he and I in his coach through Kent Street (a sad place through the plague, people sitting sicke and with plaisters about them in the street begging) to Viner’s and Colvill’s about money business, and so to my house, and there I took £300 in order to the carrying it down to my Lord Sandwich in part of the money I am to pay for Captain Cocke by our agreement. So I took it down, and down I went to Greenwich to my office, and there sat busy till noon, and so home to dinner, and thence to the office again, and by and by to the Duke of Albemarle’s by water late, where I find he had remembered that I had appointed to come to him this day about money, which I excused not doing sooner; but I see, a dull fellow, as he is, do sometimes remember what another thinks he mindeth not. My business was about getting money of the East India Company; but, Lord! to see how the Duke himself magnifies himself in what he had done with the Company; and my Lord Craven what the King could have done without my Lord Duke, and a deal of stir, but most mightily what a brave fellow I am. Back by water, it raining hard, and so to the office, and stopped my going, as I intended, to the buoy of the Nore, and great reason I had to rejoice at it, for it proved the night of as great a storme as was almost ever remembered. Late at the office, and so home to bed. This day, calling at Mr. Rawlinson’s to know how all did there, I hear that my pretty grocer’s wife, Mrs. Beversham, over the way there, her husband is lately dead of the plague at Bow, which I am sorry for, for fear of losing her neighbourhood.
. Up and all the morning at the office, busy, and at noon to the King’s Head tavern,2717 where all the Trinity House dined today, to choose a new Master in the room of Hurlestone, that is dead, and Captain Crispe2718 is chosen. But, Lord! to see how Sir W. Batten governs all and tramples upon Hurlestone, but I am confident the Company will grow the worse for that man’s death, for now Batten, and in him a lazy, corrupt, doting rogue, will have all the sway there. After dinner who comes in but my Lady Batten, and a troop of a dozen women almost, and expected, as I found afterward, to be made mighty much of, but nobody minded them; but the best jest was, that when they saw themselves not regarded, they would go away, and it was horrible foule weather; and my Lady Batten walking through the dirty lane with new spicke and span white shoes, she dropped one of her galoshes in the dirt, where it stuck, and she forced to go home without one, at which she was horribly vexed, and I led her; and after vexing her a little more in mirth, I parted, and to Glanville’s, where I knew Sir John Robinson, Sir G. Smith, and Captain Cocke were gone, and there, with the company of Mrs. Penington, whose father,2719 I hear, was one of the Court of justice, and died prisoner, of the stone, in the Tower, I made them, against their resolutions, to stay from houre to houre till it was almost midnight, and a furious, dark and rainy, and windy, stormy night, and, which was best, I, with drinking small beer, made them all drunk drinking wine, at which Sir John Robinson made great sport. But, they being gone, the lady and I very civilly sat an houre by the fireside observing the folly of this Robinson, that makes it his worke to praise himself, and all he say and do, like a heavy-headed coxcombe. The plague, blessed be God! is decreased 400; making the whole this week but 1300 and odd; for which the Lord be praised!
. Up, and fitted myself for my journey down to the fleet, and sending my money and boy down by water to Eriffe2720 I borrowed a horse of Mr. Boreman’s son, and after having sat an houre laughing with my Lady Batten and Mrs. Turner, and eat and drank with them, I took horse and rode to Eriffe, where, after making a little visit to Madam Williams, who did give me information of W. Howe’s having bought eight bags of precious stones taken from about the Dutch Vice-Admiral’s neck, of which there were eight diamonds which cost him £60,000 sterling, in India, and hoped to have made £2,000 here for them. And that this is told by one that sold him one of the bags, which hath nothing but rubies in it, which he had for 35s.; and that it will be proved he hath made £125 of one stone that he bought. This she desired, and I resolved I would give my Lord Sandwich notice of. So I on board my Lord Brouncker; and there he and Sir Edmund Pooly carried me down into the hold of the India ship, and there did show me the greatest wealth lie in confusion that a man can see in the world. Pepper scattered through every chink, you trod upon it; and in cloves and nutmegs, I walked above the knees; whole rooms full. And silk in bales, and boxes of copperplate, one of which I saw opened. Having seen this, which was as noble a sight as ever I saw in my life, I away on board the other ship in despair to get the pleasure-boat of the gentlemen there to carry me to the fleet. They were Mr. Ashburnham2721 and Colonel Wyndham;2722 but pleading the King’s business, they did presently agree I should have it. So I presently on board, and got under sail, and had a good bedd by the shift, of Wyndham’s; and so—
. Sailed all night, and got down to Quinbrough water, where all the great ships are now come, and there on board my Lord, and was soon received with great content. And after some little discourse, he and I on board Sir W. Penn; and there held a council of War about many wants of the fleet, but chiefly how to get slops and victuals for the fleet now going out to convoy our Hambro’ ships, that have been so long detained for four or five months for want of convoy, which we did accommodate one way or other, and so, after much chat, Sir W. Penn did give us a very good and neat dinner, and better, I think, than ever I did see at his own house at home in my life, and so was the other I eat with him. After dinner much talk, and about other things, he and I about his money for his prize goods, wherein I did give him a cool answer, but so as we did not disagree in words much, and so let that fall, and so followed my Lord Sandwich, who was gone a little before me on board the Royal James. And there spent an houre, my Lord playing upon the guitar, which he now commends above all music in the world, because it is base enough for a single voice, and is so portable and manageable without much trouble. That being done, I got my Lord to be alone, and so I fell to acquaint him with W. Howe’s business, which he had before heard a little of from Captain Cocke, but made no great matter of it, but now he do, and resolves nothing less than to lay him by the heels, and seize on all he hath, saying that for this yeare or two he hath observed him so proud and conceited he could not endure him. But though I was not at all displeased with it, yet I prayed him to forbear doing anything therein till he heard from me again about it, and I had made more enquiry into the truth of it, which he agreed to. Then we fell to public discourse, wherein was principally this: he cleared it to me beyond all doubt that Coventry is his enemy, and has been long so. So that I am over that, and my Lord told it me upon my proposal of a friendship between them, which he says is impossible, and methinks that my Lord’s displeasure about the report in print of the first fight was not of his making, but I perceive my Lord cannot forget it, nor the other think he can. I showed him how advisable it were upon almost any terms for him to get quite off the sea employment. He answers me again that he agrees to it, but thinks the King will not let him go off. He tells me he lacks now my Lord Orrery to solicit it for him, who is very great with the King. As an infinite secret, my Lord tells me, the factions are high between the King and the Duke, and all the Court are in an uproar with their loose amours; the Duke of York being in love desperately with Mrs. Stewart. Nay, that the Duchess herself is fallen in love with her new Master of the Horse, one Harry Sidney,2723 and another, Harry Savill.2724 So that God knows what will be the end of it. And that the Duke is not so obsequious as he used to be, but very high of late; and would be glad to be in the head of an army as General; and that it is said that he do propose to go and command under the King of Spain, in Flanders. That his amours to Mrs. Stewart are told the King. So that all is like to be nought among them. That he knows that the Duke of York do give leave to have him spoken slightly of in his own hearing, and doth not oppose it, and told me from what time he hath observed this to begin. So that upon the whole my Lord do concur to wish with all his heart that he could with any honour get from off the employment. After he had given thanks to me for my kind visit and good counsel, on which he seems to set much by, I left him, and so away to my Bezan againe, and there to read in a pretty French book, La Nouvelle Allegorique, upon the strife between rhetoric and its enemies, very pleasant. So, after supper, to sleepe, and sailed all night, and came to Erith before break of day.
. About nine of the clock, I went on shore, there (calling by the way only to look upon my Lord Brouncker) to give Mrs. Williams an account of her matters, and so hired an ill-favoured horse, and away to Greenwich to my lodgings, where I hear how rude the souldiers have been in my absence, swearing what they would do with me, which troubled me, but, however, after eating a bit I to the office and there very late writing letters, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and after being trimmed, alone by water to Erith, all the way with my song book singing of Mr. Lawes’s long recitative song2725 in the beginning of his book. Being come there, on board my Lord Brouncker, I find Captain Cocke and other company, the lady not well, and mighty merry we were; Sir Edmund Pooly being very merry, and a right English gentleman, and one of the discontented Cavaliers, that think their loyalty is not considered. After dinner, all on shore to my Lady Williams, and there drank and talked; but, Lord! the most impertinent bold woman with my Lord that ever I did see. I did give her an account again of my business with my Lord touching W. Howe, and she did give me some more information about it, and examination taken about it, and so we parted and I took boat, and to Woolwich, where we found my wife not well of them, and I out of humour begun to dislike her paynting, the last things not pleasing me so well as the former, but I blame myself for my being so little complaisant. So without eating or drinking, there being no wine (which vexed me too), we walked with a lanterne to Greenwich and eat something at his house, and so home to bed.
. Up before day, and wrote some letters to go to my Lord, among others that about W. Howe, which I believe will turn him out, and so took horse for Nonesuch, with two men with me, and the ways very bad, and the weather worse, for wind and rain. But we got in good time thither, and I did get my tallies got ready, and thence, with as many as could go, to Yowell, and there dined very well, and I saw my Besse, a very well-favoured country lass there, and after being very merry and having spent a piece I took horse, and by another way met with a very good road, but it rained hard and blew, but got home very well. Here I find Mr. Deering come to trouble me about business, which I soon dispatched and parted, he telling me that Luellin2726 hath been dead this fortnight, of the plague, in St. Martin’s Lane, which much surprised me.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning doing business, and at noon home to dinner and quickly back again to the office, where very busy all the evening and late sent a long discourse to Mr. Coventry by his desire about the regulating of the method of our payment of bills in the Navy, which will be very good, though, it may be, he did aim principally at striking at Sir G. Carteret. So weary but pleased with this business being over I home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by water to the Duke of Albemarle, and there did some little business, but most to show myself, and mightily I am yet in his and Lord Craven’s books, and thence to the Swan and there drank and so down to the bridge, and so to the ’Change, where spoke with many people, and about a great deal of business, which kept me late. I heard this day that Mr. Harrington is not dead of the plague, as we believed, at which I was very glad, but most of all, to hear that the plague is come very low; that is, the whole under 1,000, and the plague 600 and odd: and great hopes of a further decrease, because of this day’s being a very exceeding hard frost, and continues freezing. This day the first of the Oxford Gazettes come out, which is very pretty, full of news, and no folly in it. Wrote by Williamson.2727 Fear that our Hambro’ ships at last cannot go, because of the great frost, which we believe it is there, nor are our ships cleared at the Pillow [Pillau], which will keepe them there too all this winter, I fear. From the ’Change, which is pretty full again, I to my office and there took some things, and so by water to my lodging at Greenwich and dined, and then to the office awhile and at night home to my lodgings, and took T. Willson and T. Hater with me, and there spent the evening till midnight discoursing and settling of our Victualling business, that thereby I might draw up instructions for the Surveyours and that we might be doing something to earne our money. This done I late to bed. Among other things it pleased me to have it demonstrated, that a Purser without professed cheating is a professed loser, twice as much as he gets.
. Up betimes, and so, being trimmed, I to get papers ready against Sir H. Cholmly come to me by appointment, he being newly come over from Tangier.2728 He did by and by come, and we settled all matters about his money, and he is a most satisfied man in me, and do declare his resolution to give me £200 per annum. It continuing to be a great frost, which gives us hope for a perfect cure of the plague, he and I to walk in the park, and there discoursed with grief of the calamity of the times; how the King’s service is performed, and how Tangier is governed by a man, who, though honourable, yet do mind his ways of getting and little else compared, which will never make the place flourish. I brought him and had a good dinner for him, and there come by chance Captain Cuttance, who tells me how W. Howe is laid by the heels, and confined to the Royal Katharine, and his things all seized and how, also, for a quarrel, which indeed the other night my Lord told me, Captain Ferrers, having cut all over the back of another of my Lord’s servants, is parted from my Lord. I sent for little Mrs. Frances Tooker, and after they were gone I sat dallying with her an hour, doing what I would with my hands about her. And a very pretty creature it is. So in the evening to the office, where late writing letters, and at my lodging later writing for the last twelve days my Journal and so to bed. Great expectation what mischief more the French will do us, for we must fall out. We in extraordinary lacke of money and everything else to go to sea next year. My Lord Sandwich is gone from the fleet yesterday toward Oxford.
. Up, and after doing some business at the office, I to London, and there, in my way, at my old oyster shop in Gracious Street, bought two barrels of my fine woman of the shop, who is alive after all the plague, which now is the first observation or inquiry we make at London concerning everybody we knew before it. So to the ’Change, where very busy with several people, and mightily glad to see the ’Change so full, and hopes of another abatement still the next week. Off the ’Change I went home with Sir G. Smith to dinner, sending for one of my barrels of oysters, which were good, though come from Colchester, where the plague hath been so much. Here a very brave dinner, though no invitation; and, Lord! to see how I am treated, that come from so mean a beginning, is matter of wonder to me. But it is God’s great mercy to me, and His blessing upon my taking pains, and being punctual in my dealings. After dinner Captain Cocke and I about some business, and then with my other barrel of oysters home to Greenwich, sent them by water to Mrs. Penington, while he and I landed, and visited Mr. Evelyn, where most excellent discourse with him; among other things he showed me a ledger2729 of a Treasurer of the Navy, his great grandfather, just 100 years old; which I seemed mighty fond of, and he did present me with it, which I take as a great rarity; and he hopes to find me more, older than it. He also showed us several letters of the old Lord of Leicester’s,2730 in Queen Elizabeth’s time, under the very handwriting of Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Mary, Queen of Scotts; and others, very venerable names. But, Lord! how poorly, methinks, they wrote in those days, and in what plain uncut paper. Thence, Cocke having sent for his coach, we to Mrs. Penington, and there sat and talked and eat our oysters with great pleasure, and so home to my lodging late and to bed.
. Up, and busy at the office all day long, saving dinner time, and in the afternoon also very late at my office, and so home to bed. All our business is now about our Hambro fleet, whether it can go or no this yeare, the weather being set in frosty, and the whole stay being for want of Pilots now, which I have wrote to the Trinity House about, but have so poor an account from them, that I did acquaint Sir W. Coventry with it this post.
. Up, though very late abed, yet before day to dress myself to go toward Erith, which I would do by land, it being a horrible cold frost to go by water: so borrowed two horses of Mr. Howell and his friend, and with much ado set out, after my horses being frosted2731 (which I know not what it means to this day), and my boy having lost one of my spurs and stockings, carrying them to the smith’s; but I borrowed a stocking, and so got up, and Mr. Tooker with me, and rode to Erith, and there on board my Lord Brouncker, met Sir W. Warren upon his business, among others, and did a great deal, Sir J. Minnes, as God would have it, not being there to hinder us with his impertinences. Business done, we to dinner very merry, there being there Sir Edmund Pooly, a very worthy gentleman. They are now come to the copper boxes in the prizes, and hope to have ended all this weeke. After dinner took leave, and on shore to Madam Williams, to give her an account of my Lord’s letter to me about Howe, who he has clapped by the heels on suspicion of having the jewels, and she did give me my Lord Brouncker’s examination of the fellow, that declares his having them; and so away, Sir W. Warren riding with me, and the way being very bad, that is, hard and slippery by reason of the frost, so we could not come to past Woolwich till night. However, having a great mind to have gone to the Duke of Albemarle, I endeavoured to have gone farther, but the night come on and no going, so I ’light and sent my horse by Tooker, and returned on foot to my wife at Woolwich, where I found, as I had directed, a good dinner to be made against tomorrow, and invited guests in the yarde, meaning to be merry, in order to her taking leave, for she intends to come in a day or two to me for altogether. But here, they tell me, one of the houses behind them is infected, and I was fain to stand there a great while, to have their backdoor opened, but they could not, having locked them fast, against any passing through, so was forced to pass by them again, close to their sicke beds, which they were removing out of the house, which troubled me; so I made them uninvite their guests, and to resolve of coming all away to me tomorrow, and I walked with a lanterne, weary as I was, to Greenwich; but it was a fine walke, it being a hard frost, and so to Captain Cocke’s, but he I found had sent for me to come to him to Mrs. Penington’s, and there I went, and we were very merry, and supped, and Cocke being sleepy he went away betimes. I stayed alone talking and playing with her till past midnight, she suffering me whatever ego voulais avec ses mamelles. … Much pleased with her company we parted, and I home to bed at past one, all people being in bed thinking I would have stayed out of town all night.
. Up, and being to go to wait on the Duke of Albemarle, who is to go out of town to Oxford tomorrow, and I being unwilling to go by water, it being bitter cold, walked it with my landlady’s little boy Christopher to Lambeth, it being a very fine walke and calling at half the way and drank, and so to the Duke of Albemarle, who is visited by everybody against his going; and mighty kind to me: and upon my desiring his grace to give me his kind word to the Duke of York, if any occasion there were of speaking of me, he told me he had reason to do so; for there had been nothing done in the Navy without me. His going, I hear, is upon putting the sea business into order, and, as some say, and people of his own family, that he is agog to go to sea himself the next year. Here I met with a letter from Sir G. Carteret, who is come to Cranborne, that he will be here this afternoon and desires me to be with him. So the Duke would have me dine with him. So it being not dinner time, I to the Swan, and there found Sarah all alone in the house. … So away to the Duke of Albemarle again, and there to dinner, he most exceeding kind to me to the observation of all that are there. At dinner comes Sir G. Carteret and dines with us. After dinner a great deal alone with Sir G. Carteret, who tells me that my Lord hath received still worse and worse usage from some base people about the Court. But the King is very kind, and the Duke do not appear the contrary; and my Lord Chancellor swore to him “by ⸻ I will not forsake my Lord of Sandwich.” Our next discourse is upon this Act for money, about which Sir G. Carteret comes to see what money can be got upon it. But none can be got, which pleases him the thoughts of, for, if the Exchequer should succeede in this, his office would faile. But I am apt to think at this time of hurry and plague and want of trade, no money will be got upon a new way which few understand. We walked, Cocke and I, through the Park with him, and so we being to meet the Vice-Chamberlayne tomorrow at Nonesuch, to treat with Sir Robert Long about the same business, I into London, it being dark night, by a hackney coach; the first I have durst to go in many a day, and with great pain now for fear. But it being unsafe to go by water in the dark and frosty cold, and unable being weary with my morning walke to go on foot, this was my only way. Few people yet in the streets, nor shops open, here and there twenty in a place almost; though not above five or sixe o’clock at night. So to Viner’s, and there heard of Cocke, and found him at the Pope’s Head, drinking with Temple. I to them, where the Goldsmiths do decry the new Act, for money to be all brought into the Exchequer, and paid out thence, saying they will not advance one farthing upon it; and indeed it is their interest to say and do so. Thence Cocke and I to Sir G. Smith’s, it being now night, and there up to his chamber and sat talking, and I barbing2732 against tomorrow; and anon, at nine at night, comes to us Sir G. Smith and the Lieutenant of the Tower, and there they sat talking and drinking till past midnight, and mighty merry we were, the Lieutenant of the Tower being in a mighty vein of singing, and he hath a very good ear and strong voice, but no manner of skill. Sir G. Smith showed me his lady’s closet, which was very fine; and, after being very merry, here I lay in a noble chamber, and mighty highly treated, the first time I have lain in London a long time.
. Up before day, and Cocke and I took a hackney coach appointed with four horses to take us up, and so carried us over London Bridge. But there, thinking of some business, I did ’light at the foot of the bridge, and by help of a candle at a stall, where some payers were at work, I wrote a letter to Mr. Hater, and never knew so great an instance of the usefulness of carrying pen and ink and wax about one: so we, the way being very bad, to Nonesuch, and thence to Sir Robert Long’s house;2733 a fine place, and dinner time ere we got thither; but we had breakfasted a little at Mr. Gawden’s, he being out of town though, and there borrowed Dr. Taylor’s2734 sermons, and is a most excellent booke and worth my buying, where had a very good dinner, and curiously dressed, and here a couple of ladies, kinswomen of his, not handsome though, but rich, that knew me by report of The. Turner, and mighty merry we were. After dinner to talk of our business, the Act of Parliament, where in short I see Sir R. Long mighty fierce in the great good qualities of it. But in that and many other things he was stiff in, I think without much judgement, or the judgement I expected from him, and already they have evaded the necessity of bringing people into the Exchequer with their bills to be paid there. Sir G. Carteret is titched2735 at this, yet resolves with me to make the best use we can of this Act for the King, but all our care, we think, will not render it as it should be. He did again here alone discourse with me about my Lord, and is himself strongly for my Lord’s not going to sea, which I am glad to hear and did confirm him in it. He tells me too that he talked last night with the Duke of Albemarle about my Lord Sandwich, by the by making him sensible that it is his interest to preserve his old friends, which he confessed he had reason to do, for he knows that ill offices were doing of him, and that he honoured my Lord Sandwich with all his heart. After this discourse we parted, and all of us broke up and we parted. Captain Cocke and I through Wandsworth. Drank at Sir Allen Broderick’s,2736 a great friend and comrade of Cocke’s, whom he values above the world for a witty companion, and I believe he is so. So to Fox-Hall and there took boat, and down to the Old Swan, and thence to Lombard Street, it being dark night, and thence to the Tower. Took boat and down to Greenwich, Cocke and I, he home and I to the office, where did a little business, and then to my lodgings, where my wife is come, and I am well pleased with it, only much trouble in those lodgings we have, the mistress of the house being so deadly dear in everything we have; so that we do resolve to remove home soon as we know how the plague goes this weeke, which we hope will be a good decrease. So to bed.
. Up, my wife and I talking how to dispose of our goods, and resolved upon sending our two maids Alce (who has been a day or two at Woolwich with my wife, thinking to have had a feast there) and Susan home. So my wife after dinner did take them to London with some goods, and I in the afternoon after doing other business did go also by agreement to meet Captain Cocke and from him to Sir Roger Cuttance, about the money due from Cocke to him for the late prize goods, wherein Sir Roger is troubled that he hath not payment as agreed, and the other, that he must pay without being secured in the quiet possession of them, but some accommodation to both, I think, will be found. But Cocke do tell me that several have begged so much of the King to be discovered out of stolen prize goods and so I am afeard we shall hereafter have trouble, therefore I will get myself free of them as soon as I can and my money paid. Thence home to my house, calling my wife, where the poor wretch is putting things in a way to be ready for our coming home, and so by water together to Greenwich, and so spent the night together.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon comes Sir Thomas Allen, and I made him dine with me, and very friendly he is, and a good man, I think, but one that professes he loves to get and to save. He dined with my wife and me and Mrs. Barbary, whom my wife brings along with her from Woolwich for as long as she stays here. In the afternoon to the office, and there very late writing letters and then home, my wife and people sitting up for me, and after supper to bed. Great joy we have this week in the weekly Bill, it being come to 544 in all, and but 333 of the plague; so that we are encouraged to get to London soon as we can. And my father writes as great news of joy to them, that he saw Yorke’s wagon go again this week to London, and was full of passengers; and tells me that my aunt Bell hath been dead of the plague these seven weeks.
December 1665
. This morning to the office, full of resolution to spend the whole day at business, and there, among other things, I did agree with Poynter to be my clerke for my Victualling business, and so all alone all the day long shut up in my little closet at my office, drawing up instructions,2737 which I should long since have done for my Surveyours of the Ports, Sir W. Coventry desiring much to have them, and he might well have expected them long since. After dinner to it again, and at night had long discourse with Gibson, who is for Yarmouth, who makes me understand so much of the victualling business and the pursers’ trade, that I am ashamed I should go about the concerning myself in a business which I understand so very very little of, and made me distrust all I had been doing today. So I did lay it by till tomorrow morning to think of it afresh, and so home by promise to my wife, to have mirth there. So we had our neighbours, little Miss Tooker and Mrs. Daniels, to dance, and after supper I to bed, and left them merry below, which they did not part from till two or three in the morning.
. Up, and discoursing with my wife, who is resolved to go to London for good and all this day, we did agree upon giving Mr. Sheldon £10, and Mrs. Barbary two pieces, and so I left her to go down thither to fetch away the rest of the things and pay him the money, and so I to the office, where very busy setting Mr. Poynter to write out my last night’s worke, which pleases me this day, but yet it is pretty to reflect how much I am out of confidence with what I had done upon Gibson’s discourse with me, for fear I should have done it sillily, but Poynter likes them, and Mr. Hater also, but yet I am afeard lest they should do it out of flattery, so conscious I am of my ignorance. Dined with my wife at noon and took leave of her, she being to go to London, as I said, for altogether, and I to the office, busy till past one in the morning.
. It being Lord’s day, up and dressed and to church, thinking to have sat with Sir James Bunce2738 to hear his daughter2739 and her husband sing, that are so much commended, but was prevented by being invited into Coll. Cleggatt’s pew. However, there I sat, near Mr. Laneare, with whom I spoke, and in sight, by chance, and very near my fat brown beauty of our Parish, the rich merchant’s lady, a very noble woman,2740 and Madame Pierce. A good sermon of Mr. Plume’s, and so to Captain Cocke’s, and there dined with him, and Colonel Wyndham, a worthy gentleman, whose wife was nurse to the present King,2741 and one that while she lived governed him and everything else, as Cocke says, as a minister of state; the old King putting mighty weight and trust upon her. They talked much of matters of State and persons, and particularly how my Lord Barkeley hath all along been a fortunate, though a passionate and but weak man as to policy; but as a kinsman brought in and promoted by my Lord of St. Alban’s, and one that is the greatest vapourer in the world, this Colonel Wyndham says; and one to whom only, with Jacke Asheburne2742 and Colonel Legge,2743 the King’s removal to the Isle of Wight from Hampton Court was communicated; and (though betrayed by their knavery, or at best by their ignorance, insomuch that they have all solemnly charged one another with their failures therein, and have been at daggers-drawing publicly about it), yet now none greater friends in the world. We dined, and in comes Mrs. Owen, a kinswoman of my Lord Brouncker’s, about getting a man discharged, which I did for her, and by and by Mrs. Pierce to speake with me (and Mary my wife’s late maid, now gone to her) about her husband’s business of money, and she tells us how she prevented Captain Fisher the other day in his purchase of all her husband’s fine goods, as pearls and silks, that he had seized in an Apothecary’s house, a friend of theirs, but she got in and broke them open and removed all before Captain Fisher came the next day to fetch them away, at which he is starke mad. She went home, and I to my lodgings. At night by agreement I fetched her again with Cocke’s coach, and he come and we sat and talked together, thinking to have had Mrs. Coleman and my songsters, her husband and Laneare, but they failed me. So we to supper, and as merry as was sufficient, and my pretty little Miss with me; and so after supper walked [with] Pierce home, and so back and to bed. But, Lord! I stand admiring of the wittiness of her little boy, which is one of the wittiest boys, but most confident that ever I did see of a child of 9 years old or under in all my life, or indeed one twice his age almost, but all for roguish wit. So to bed.
. Several people to me about business, among others Captain Taylor, intended Storekeeper for Harwich, whom I did give some assistance in his dispatch by lending him money. So out and by water to London and to the ’Change, and up and down about several businesses, and after the observing (God forgive me!) one or two of my neighbour Jason’s women come to town, which did please me very well, home to my house at the office, where my wife had got a dinner for me: and it was a joyful thing for us to meet here, for which God be praised! Here was her brother come to see her, and speake with me about business. It seems my recommending of him hath not only obtained his presently being admitted into the Duke of Albemarle’s guards, and present pay, but also by the Duke’s and Sir Philip Howard’s direction, to be put as a right-hand man, and other marks of special respect, at which I am very glad, partly for him, and partly to see that I am reckoned something in my recommendations, but wish he may carry himself that I may receive no disgrace by him. So to the ’Change. Up and down again in the evening about business and to meet Captain Cocke, who waited for Mrs. Pierce (with whom he is mightily stricken), to receive and hide for her her rich goods she saved the other day from seizure. Upon the ’Change today Colvill tells me, from Oxford, that the King in person hath justified my Lord Sandwich to the highest degree; and is right in his favour to the uttermost. So late by water home, taking a barrel of oysters with me, and at Greenwich went and sat with Madam Penington … and made her undress her head and sit dishevilled all night sporting till two in the morning, and so away to my lodging and so to bed. Over-fasting all the morning hath filled me mightily with wind, and nothing else hath done it, that I fear a fit of the colic.
. Up and to the office, where very busy about several businesses all the morning. At noon empty, yet without stomach to dinner, having spoiled myself with fasting yesterday, and so filled with wind. In the afternoon by water, calling Mr. Stevens (who is with great trouble paying of seamen of their tickets at Deptford) and to London, to look for Captain Kingdom whom we found at home about 5 o’clock. I tried him, and he promised to follow us presently to the East India House to sign papers tonight in order to the settling the business of my receiving money for Tangier. We went and stopped the officer there to shut up. He made us stay above an houre. I sent for him; he comes, but was not found at home, but abroad on other business, and brings a paper saying that he had been this houre looking for the Lord Ashley’s order. When he looks for it, that is not the paper. He would go again to look; kept us waiting till almost 8 at night. Then was I to go home by water this weather and dark, and to write letters by the post, besides keeping the East India officers there so late. I sent for him again; at last he comes, and says he cannot find the paper (which is a pretty thing to lay orders for £100,000 no better). I was angry; he told me I ought to give people ease at night, and all business was to be done by day. I answered him sharply, that I did [not] make, nor any honest man, any difference between night and day in the King’s business, and this was such, and my Lord Ashley should know. He answered me short. I told him I knew the time (meaning the Rump’s time) when he did other men’s business with more diligence. He cried, “Nay, say not so,” and stopped his mouth, not one word after. We then did our business without the order in less than eight minutes, which he made me to no purpose stay above two hours for the doing. This made him mad, and so we exchanged notes, and I had notes for £14,000 of the Treasurer of the Company, and so away and by water to Greenwich and wrote my letters, and so home late to bed.
. Up betimes, it being fast-day; and by water to the Duke of Albemarle,2744 who come to town from Oxford last night. He is mighty brisk, and very kind to me, and asks my advice principally in everything. He surprises me with the news that my Lord Sandwich goes Embassador to Spain speedily;2745 though I know not whence this arises, yet I am heartily glad of it. He did give me several directions what to do, and so I home by water again and to church a little, thinking to have met Mrs. Pierce in order to our meeting at night; but she not there, I home and dined, and comes presently by appointment my wife. I spent the afternoon upon a song2746 of Solyman’s words to Roxalana that I have set, and so with my wife walked and Mercer to Mrs. Pierce’s, where Captain Rolt and Mrs. Knipp,2747 Mr. Coleman and his wife, and Laneare, Mrs. Worship2748 and her singing daughter, met; and by and by unexpectedly comes Mr. Pierce from Oxford. Here the best company for music I ever was in, in my life, and wish I could live and die in it, both for music and the face of Mrs. Pierce, and my wife and Knipp, who is pretty enough; but the most excellent, mad-humoured thing, and sings the noblest that ever I heard in my life, and Rolt, with her, some things together most excellently. I spent the night in ecstasy almost; and, having invited them to my house a day or two hence, we broke up, Pierce having told me that he is told how the King hath done my Lord Sandwich all the right imaginable, by showing him his countenance before all the world on every occasion, to remove thoughts of discontent; and that he is to go Embassador, and that the Duke of York is made general of all forces by land and sea, and the Duke of Albemarle, lieutenant-general. Whether the two latter alterations be so, true or no, he knows not, but he is told so; but my Lord is in full favour with the King. So all home and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where very busy all day. Sir G. Carteret’s letter tells me my Lord Sandwich is, as I was told, declared Embassador Extraordinary to Spain, and to go with all speed away, and that his enemies have done him as much good as he could wish. At noon late to dinner, and after dinner spent till night with Mr. Gibson and Hater discoursing and making myself more fully [know] the trade of pursers, and what fittest to be done in their business, and so to the office till midnight writing letters, and so home, and after supper with my wife about one o’clock to bed.
. Up, well pleased in my mind about my Lord Sandwich, about whom I shall know more anon from Sir G. Carteret, who will be in town, and also that the Hambrough [ships] after all difficulties are got out. God send them good speed! So, after being trimmed, I by water to London, to the Navy office, there to give order to my maid to buy things to send down to Greenwich for supper tonight; and I also to buy other things, as oysters, and lemons, 6d. per piece, and oranges, 3d. That done I to the ’Change, and among many other things, especially for getting of my Tangier money, I by appointment met Mr. Gawden, and he and I to the Pope’s Head Tavern, and there he did give me alone a very pretty dinner. Our business to talk of his matters and his supply of money, which was necessary for us to talk on before the Duke of Albemarle this afternoon and Sir G. Carteret. After that I offered now to pay him the £4,000 remaining of his £8,000 for Tangier, which he took with great kindness, and prayed me most frankly to give him a note for £3,500 and accept the other £500 for myself, which in good earnest was against my judgement to do, for [I] expected about £100 and no more, but however he would have me do it, and owns very great obligations to me, and the man indeed I love, and he deserves it. This put me into great joy, though with a little stay to it till we have time to settle it, for for so great a sum I was fearful any accident might by death or otherwise defeate me, having not now time to change papers. So we rose, and by water to Whitehall, where we found Sir G. Carteret with the Duke, and also Sir G. Downing, whom I had not seen in many years before. He greeted me very kindly, and I him; though methinks I am touched, that it should be said that he was my master heretofore, as doubtless he will. So to talk of our Navy business, and particularly money business, of which there is little hopes of any present supply upon this new Act, the goldsmiths being here (and Alderman Backewell newly come from Flanders), and none offering any. So we rose without doing more than my stating the case of the Victualler, that whereas there is due to him on the last year’s declaration £80,000, and the charge of this year’s amounts to £420,000 and odd, he must be supplied between this and the end of January with £150,000, and the remainder in 40 weeks by weekly payments, or else he cannot go through his business. Thence after some discourse with Sir G. Carteret, who, though he tells me that he is glad of my Lord’s being made Embassador, and that it is the greatest courtesy his enemies could do him; yet I find he is not heartily merry upon it, and that it was no design of my Lord’s friends, but the prevalence of his enemies, and that the Duke of Albemarle and Prince Rupert are like to go to sea together the next year. I pray God, when my Lord is gone, they do not fall hard upon the Vice-Chamberlain, being alone, and in so envious a place, though by this late Act and the instructions now a brewing for our office as to method of payments will destroy the profit of his place of itself without more trouble. Thence by water down to Greenwich, and there found all my company come; that is, Mrs. Knipp, and an ill, melancholy, jealous-looking fellow, her husband, that spoke not a word to us all the night, Pierce and his wife, and Rolt, Mrs. Worship and her daughter, Coleman and his wife, and Laneare, and, to make us perfectly happy, there comes by chance to town Mr. Hill to see us. Most excellent music we had in abundance, and a good supper, dancing, and a pleasant scene of Mrs. Knipp’s rising sicke from table, but whispered me it was for some hard word or other her husband gave her just now when she laughed and was more merry than ordinary. But we got her in humour again, and mighty merry; spending the night, till two in the morning, with most complete content as ever in my life, it being increased by my day’s work with Gawden. Then broke up, and we to bed, Mr. Hill and I, whom I love more and more, and he us.
. Called up betimes by my Lord Brouncker, who is come to town from his long water worke at Erith last night, to go with him to the Duke of Albemarle, which by his coach I did. Our discourse upon the ill posture of the times through lacke of money. At the Duke’s did some business, and I believe he was not pleased to see all the Duke’s discourse and applications to me and everybody else. Discoursed also with Sir G. Carteret about office business, but no money in view. Here my Lord and I stayed and dined, the Vice-Chamberlain taking his leave. At table the Duchess, a damned ill-looked woman, complaining of her Lord’s going to sea the next year, said these cursed words: “If my Lord had been a coward he had gone to sea no more: it may be then he might have been excused, and made an Embassador” (meaning my Lord Sandwich).2749 This made me mad, and I believed she perceived my countenance change, and blushed herself very much. I was in hopes others had not minded it, but my Lord Brouncker, after we were come away, took notice of the words to me with displeasure. Thence after dinner away by water, calling and taking leave of Sir G. Carteret, whom we found going through at Whitehall, and so over to Lambeth and took coach and home, and so to the office, where late writing letters, and then home to Mr. Hill, and sang, among other things, my song of “Beauty retire,” which he likes, only excepts against two notes in the base, but likes the whole very well. So late to bed.
. Lay long talking, Hill and I, with great pleasure, and then up, and being ready walked to Cocke’s for some news, but heard none, only they would have us stay their dinner, and sent for my wife, who come, and very merry we were, there being Sir Edmund Pooly and Mr. Evelyn. Before we had dined comes Mr. Andrews, whom we had sent for to Bow, and so after dinner home, and there we sang some things, but not with much pleasure, Mr. Andrews being in so great haste to go home, his wife looking every hour to be brought to bed. He gone Mr. Hill and I continued our music, one thing after another, late till supper, and so to bed with great pleasure.
. Lay long with great pleasure talking. So I left him and to London to the ’Change, and after discoursed with several people about business; met Mr. Gawden at the Pope’s Head, where he brought Mr. Lewes and T. Willson to discourse about the Victualling business, and the alterations of the pursers’ trade, for something must be done to secure the King a little better, and yet that they may have wherewith to live. After dinner I took him aside, and perfected to my great joy my business with him, wherein he deals most nobly in giving me his hand for the £4,000, and would take my note but for £3,500. This is a great blessing, and God make me thankful truly for it. With him till it was dark putting in writing our discourse about victualling, and so parted, and I to Viner’s, and there evened all accounts, and took up my notes setting all straight between us to this day. The like to Colvill, and paying several bills due from me on the Tangier account. Then late met Cocke and Temple2750 at the Pope’s Head, and there had good discourse with Temple, who tells me that of the £80,000 advanced already by the East India Company, they have had £5,000 out of their hands. He discoursed largely of the quantity of money coined, and what may be thought the real sum of money in the kingdom. He told me, too, as an instance of the thrift used in the King’s business, that the tools and the interest of the money-using to the King for the money he borrowed while the new invention of the mill money was perfected, cost him £35,000, and in mirthe tells me that the new fashion money is good for nothing but to help the Prince if he can secretly get copper plates shut up in silver it shall never be discovered, at least not in his age. Thence Cocke and I by water, he home and I home, and there sat with Mr. Hill and my wife supping, talking and singing till midnight, and then to bed. [That I may remember it the more particularly, I thought fit to insert this additional memorandum of Temple’s discourse this night with me, which I took in writing from his mouth. Before the Harp and Crosse money was cried down, he and his fellow goldsmiths did make some particular trials what proportion that money bore to the old King’s money, and they found that generally it come to, one with another, about £25 in every £100. Of this money there was, upon the calling of it in, £650,000 at least brought into the Tower; and from thence he computes that the whole money of England must be full £6,250,000. But for all this believes that there is above £30,000,000; he supposing that about the King’s coming in (when he begun to observe the quantity of the new money) people begun to be fearful of this money’s being cried down, and so picked it out and set it a-going as fast as they could, to be rid of it; and he thinks £30,000,000 the rather, because if there were but £16,250,000 the King having £2,000,000 every year, would have the whole money of the kingdom in his hands in eight years. He tells me about £350,000 sterling was coined out of the French money, the proceeds of Dunkirke; so that, with what was coined of the Crosse money, there is new coined about £1,000,000 besides the gold, which is guessed at £500,000. He tells me, that, though the King did deposit the French money in pawn all the while for the £350,000 he was forced to borrow thereupon till the tools could be made for the new Minting in the present form, yet the interest he paid for that time came to £35,000, Viner having to his knowledge £10,000 for the use of £100,000 of it.]2751
. Up, and to the office, where my Lord Brouncker met, and among other things did finish a contract with Cocke for hemp, by which I hope to get my money due from him paid presently. At noon home to dinner, only eating a bit, and with much kindness taking leave of Mr. Hill who goes away today, and so I by water saving the tide through Bridge and to Sir G. Downing by appointment at Charing Crosse, who did at first mightily please me with informing me thoroughly the virtue and force of this Act, and indeed it is ten times better than ever I thought could have been said of it, but when he come to impose upon me that without more ado I must get by my credit people to serve in goods and lend money upon it and none could do it better than I, and the King should give me thanks particularly in it, and I could not get him to excuse me, but I must come to him though to no purpose on Saturday, and that he is sure I will bring him some bargains or other made upon this Act, it vexed me more than all the pleasure I took before, for I find he will be troublesome to me in it, if I will let him have as much of my time as he would have. So late I took leave and in the cold (the weather setting in cold) home to the office and, after my letters being wrote, home to supper and to bed, my wife being also gone to London.
. Up betimes and finished my journal for five days back, and then after being ready to my Lord Brouncker by appointment, there to order the disposing of some money that we have come into the office, and here to my great content I did get a bill of imprest to Captain Cocke to pay myself in part of what is coming to me from him for my Lord Sandwich’s satisfaction and my own, and also another payment or two wherein I am concerned, and having done that did go to Mr. Pierce’s, where he and his wife made me drink some tea, and so he and I by water together to London. Here at a tavern in Cornhill he and I did agree upon my delivering up to him a bill of Captain Cocke’s, put into my hand for Pierce’s use upon evening of reckonings about the prize goods, and so away to the ’Change, and there hear the ill news, to my great and all our great trouble, that the plague is increased again this week, notwithstanding there hath been a day or two great frosts; but we hope it is only the effects of the late close warm weather, and if the frosts continue the next week, may fall again; but the town do thicken so much with people, that it is much if the plague do not grow again upon us. Off the ’Change invited by Sheriff Hooker, who keeps the poorest, mean, dirty table in a dirty house that ever I did see any Sheriff of London; and a plain, ordinary, silly man I think he is, but rich; only his son, Mr. Lethulier,2752 I like, for a pretty, civil, understanding merchant; and the more by much, because he happens to be husband to our noble, fat, brave lady in our parish, that I and my wife admire so. Thence away to the Pope’s Head Tavern, and there met first with Captain Cocke, and dispatched my business with him to my content, he being ready to sign his bill of imprest of £2,000, and gives it me in part of his payment to me, which glads my heart. He being gone, comes Sir W. Warren, who advised with me about several things about getting money, and £100 I shall presently have of him. We advised about a business of insurance, wherein something may be saved to him and got to me, and to that end he and I did take a coach at night and to the Cockpit, there to get the Duke of Albemarle’s advice for our insuring some of our Sounde goods coming home under Harman’s convoy, but he proved shy of doing it without knowledge of the Duke of York, so we back again and calling at my house to see my wife, who is well; though my great trouble is that our poor little parish is the greatest number this weeke in all the city within the walls, having six, from one the last weeke; and so by water to Greenwich leaving Sir W. Warren at home, and I straight to my Lord Brouncker, it being late, and concluded upon insuring something and to send to that purpose to Sir W. Warren to come to us tomorrow morning. So I home and, my mind in great rest, to bed.
. Up, and to the office a while with my Lord Brouncker, where we directed Sir W. Warren in the business of the insurance as I desired, and ended some other businesses of his, and so at noon I to London, but the ’Change was done before I got thither, so I to the Pope’s Head Tavern, and there find Mr. Gawden and Captain Beckford and Nick Osborne going to dinner, and I dined with them and very exceeding merry we were as I had [not] been a great while, and dinner being done I to the East India House and there had an assignment on Mr. Temple for the £2,000 of Cocke’s, which joyed my heart; so, having seen my wife in the way, I home by water and to write my letters and then home to bed.
. Up, and spent all the morning with my Surveyors of the Ports for the Victualling, and there read to them what instructions I had provided for them and discoursed largely much of our business and the business of the pursers. I left them to dine with my people, and to my Lord Brouncker’s where I met with a great good dinner and Sir T. Teddiman, with whom my Lord and I were to discourse about the bringing of W. Howe to a trial for his jewels, and there till almost night, and so away toward the office and in my way met with Sir James Bunce; and after asking what news, he cried “Ah!” says he (I know [not] whether in earnest or jest), “this is the time for you,” says he, “that were for Oliver heretofore; you are full of employment, and we poor Cavaliers sit still and can get nothing;” which was a pretty reproach, I thought, but answered nothing to it, for fear of making it worse. So away and I to see Mrs. Penington, but company being to come to her, I stayed not, but to the office a little and so home, and after supper to bed.
. Up, and met at the office; Sir W. Batten with us, who come from Portsmouth on Monday last, and hath not been with us to see or discourse with us about any business till this day. At noon to dinner, Sir W. Warren with me on boat, and thence I by water, it being a fearful cold, snowing day to Westminster to Whitehall Stairs and thence to Sir G. Downing, to whom I brought the happy news of my having contracted, as we did this day with Sir W. Warren, for a ship’s lading of Norway goods here and another at Harwich to the value of above £3,000, which is the first that hath been got upon the New Act, and he is overjoyed with it and tells me he will do me all the right to Court about it in the world, and I am glad I have it to write to Sir W. Coventry tonight. He would fain have me come in £200 to lend upon the Act, but I desire to be excused in doing that, it being to little purpose for us that relate to the King to do it, for the sum gets the King no courtesy nor credit. So I parted from him and walked to Westminster Hall, where Sir W. Warren, who come along with me, stayed for me, and there I did see Betty Howlet come after the sickness to the Hall. Had not opportunity to salute her, as I desired, but was glad to see her and a very pretty wench she is. Thence back, landing at the Old Swan and taking boat again at Billingsgate, and setting ashore we home and I to the office … and there wrote my letters, and so home to supper and to bed, it being a great frost. News is come today of our Sounde fleet being come, but I do not know what Sir W. Warren hath insured.
. After being trimmed word brought me that Cutler’s coach is, by appointment, come to the Isle of Dogs for me, and so I over the water; and in his coach to Hackney, a very fine, cold, clear, frosty day. At his house I find him with a plain little dinner, good wine, and welcome. He is still a prating man; and the more I know him, the less I find in him. A pretty house he hath here indeed, of his own building. His old mother was an object at dinner that made me not like it; and, after dinner, to visit his sicke wife I did not also take much joy in, but very friendly he is to me, not for any kindness I think he hath to any man, but thinking me, I perceive, a man whose friendship is to be looked after. After dinner back again and to Deptford to Mr. Evelyn’s, who was not within, but I had appointed my cousin Thos. Pepys of Hatcham to meet me there, to discourse about getting his £1,000 of my Lord Sandwich, having now an opportunity of my having above that sum in my hands of his. I found this a dull fellow still in all his discourse, but in this he is ready enough to embrace what I counsel him to, which is, to write importunately to my Lord and me about it and I will look after it. I do again and again declare myself a man unfit to be security for such a sum. He walked with me as far as Deptford upper town, being mighty respectful to me, and there parted, he telling me that this town is still very bad of the plague. I walked to Greenwich first, to make a short visit to my Lord Brouncker, and next to Mrs. Penington and spent all the evening with her with the same freedom I used to have and very pleasant company. With her till one of the clock in the morning and past, and so to my lodging to bed, and …
… betimes, up, it being a fine frost, and walked it to Redriffe, calling and drinking at Halfway house, thinking, indeed, to have overtaken some of the people of our house, the women, who were to walk the same walke, but I could not. So to London, and there visited my wife, and was a little displeased to find she is so forward all of a spurt to make much of her brother and sister since my last kindness to him in getting him a place, but all ended well presently, and I to the ’Change and up and down to Kingdon and the goldsmith’s to meet Mr. Stephens, and did get all my money matters most excellently cleared to my complete satisfaction. Passing over Cornhill I spied young Mrs. Daniel and Sarah, my landlady’s daughter, who are come, as I expected, to town, and did say they spied me and I dogged them to St. Martin’s, where I passed by them being shy, and walked down as low as Ducke Lane and enquired for some Spanish books, and so back again and they were gone. So to the ’Change, hoping to see them in the street, and missing them, went back again thither and back to the ’Change, but no sight of them, so went after my business again, and, though late, was sent to by Sir W. Warren (who heard where I was) to intreat me to come dine with him, hearing that I lacked a dinner, at the Pope’s Head; and there with Mr. Hinton, the goldsmith,2753 and others, very merry; but, Lord! to see how Dr. Hinton2754 come in with a gallant or two from Court, and do so call “Cousin” Mr. Hinton, the goldsmith, but I that know him to be a beggar and a knave, did make great sport in my mind at it. After dinner Sir W. Warren and I alone in another room a little while talking about business, and so parted, and I hence, my mind full of content in my day’s worke, home by water to Greenwich, the river beginning to be very full of ice, so as I was a little frighted, but got home well, it being dark. So having no mind to do any business, went home to my lodgings, and there got little Mrs. Tooker, and Mrs. Daniel, the daughter, and Sarah to my chamber to cards and sup with me, when in comes Mr. Pierce to me, who tells me how W. Howe has been examined on shipboard by my Lord Brouncker today, and others, and that he has charged him out of envy with sending goods under my Lord’s seale and in my Lord Brouncker’s name, thereby to get them safe passage, which, he tells me, is false, but that he did use my name to that purpose, and hath acknowledged it to my Lord Brouncker, but do also confess to me that one parcel he thinks he did use my Lord Brouncker’s name, which do vexe me mightily that my name should be brought in question about such things, though I did not say much to him of my discontent till I have spoke with my Lord Brouncker about it. So he being gone, being to go to Oxford tomorrow, we to cards again late, and so broke up, I having great pleasure with my little girl, Mrs. Tooker.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon by agreement comes Hatcham Pepys to dine with me. I thought to have had him to Sir J. Minnes to a good venison pasty with the rest of my fellows, being invited, but seeing much company I went away with him and had a good dinner at home. He did give me letters he hath wrote to my Lord and Moore about my Lord’s money to get it paid to my cousin, which I will make good use of. I made mighty much of him, but a sorry dull fellow he is, fit for nothing that is ingenious, nor is there a turd of kindness or service to be had from him. So I shall neglect him if I could get but him satisfied about this money that I may be out of bonds for my Lord to him. To see that this fellow could desire me to help him to some employment, if it were but of £100 per annum: when he is not worth less than, I believe, £20,000. He gone, I to Sir J. Minnes, and thence with my Lord Brouncker on board the Bezan to examine W. Howe again, who I find upon this trial one of much more wit and ingenuity in his answers than ever I expected, he being very cunning and discreet and well spoken in them. I said little to him or concerning him; but, Lord! to see how he writes to me a-days, and styles me “My Honour.” So much is a man subjected and dejected under afflictions as to flatter me in that manner on this occasion. Back with my Lord to Sir J. Minnes, where I left him and the rest of a great deal of company, and so I to my office, where late writing letters and then home to bed.
. Up, and was trimmed, but not time enough to save my Lord Brouncker’s coach or Sir J. Minnes’s, and so was fain to walk to Lambeth on foot, but it was a very fine frosty walke, and great pleasure in it, but troublesome getting over the River for ice. I to the Duke of Albemarle, whither my brethren were all come, but I was not too late. There we sat in discourse upon our Navy business an houre, and thence in my Lord Brouncker’s coach alone, he walking before (while I stayed awhile talking with Sir G. Downing about the Act, in which he is horrid troublesome) to the Old Exchange. Thence I took Sir Ellis Layton to Captain Cocke’s, where my Lord Brouncker and Lady Williams dine, and we all mighty merry; but Sir Ellis Layton one of the best companions at a meale in the world. After dinner I to the Exchange to see whether my pretty seamstress be come again or no, and I find she is, so I to her, saluted her over her counter in the open Exchange above, and mightily joyed to see her, poor pretty woman! I must confess I think her a great beauty. After laying out a little money there for two pair of thread stockings, cost 8s., I to Lombard Street to see some business tonight there at the goldsmith’s, among others paying in £1,258 to Viner for my Lord Sandwich’s use upon Cocke’s account. I was called by my Lord Brouncker in his coach with his mistress, and Mr. Cottle the lawyer, our acquaintance at Greenwich, and so home to Greenwich, and thence I to Mrs. Penington, and had a supper from the King’s Head for her, and there mighty merry and free as I used to be with her, and at last, late, I did pray her to undress herself into her nightgowne, that I might see how to have her picture drawn carelessly (for she is mighty proud of that conceit), and I would walk without in the street till she had done. So I did walk forth, and whether I made too many turns or no in the dark cold frosty night between the two walls up to the Park gate I know not, but she was gone to bed when I come again to the house, upon pretence of leaving some papers there, which I did on purpose by her consent. So I away home, and was there sat up for to be spoken with my young Mrs. Daniel, to pray me to speake for her husband to be a Lieutenant. I had the opportunity here of kissing her again and again, and did answer that I would be very willing to do him any kindness, and so parted, and I to bed, exceedingly pleased in all my matters of money this month or two, it having pleased God to bless me with several opportunities of good sums, and that I have them in effect all very well paid, or in my power to have. But two things trouble me; one, the sickness is increased above 80 this weeke (though in my own parish not one has died, though six the last weeke); the other, most of all, which is, that I have so complexed an account for these last two months for variety of layings out upon Tangier, occasions and variety of gettings that I have not made even with myself now these 3 or 4 months, which do trouble me mightily, finding that I shall hardly ever come to understand them thoroughly again, as I used to do my accounts when I was at home.
. At the office all the morning. At noon all of us dined at Captain Cocke’s at a good chine of beef, and other good meat; but, being all frostbitten, was most of it unroast; but very merry, and a good dish of fowle we dressed ourselves. Mr. Evelyn there, in very good humour. All the afternoon till night pleasant, and then I took my leave of them and to the office, where I wrote my letters, and away home, my head full of business and some trouble for my letting my accounts go so far that I have made an oathe this night for the drinking no wine, etc., on such penalties till I have passed my accounts and cleared all. Coming home and going to bed, the boy tells me his sister Daniel has provided me a supper of little birds killed by her husband, and I made her sup with me, and after supper were alone a great while, and I had the pleasure of her lips, she being a pretty woman, and one whom a great belly becomes as well as ever I saw any. She gone, I to bed. This day I was come to by Mrs. Burrows, of Westminster, Lieutenant Burrows (lately dead) his wife, a most pretty woman and my old acquaintance; I had a kiss or two of her, and a most modest woman she is.
. Up betimes and to my Lord Brouncker to consider the late instructions sent us for the method of our signing bills hereafter and paying them. By and by, by agreement, comes Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten, and then to read them publicly and consider of putting them in execution. About this all the morning, and, it appearing necessary for the Controller to have another Clerke, I recommended Poynter to him, which he accepts, and I by that means rid of one that I fear would not have been fit for my turne, though he writes very well. At noon comes Mr. Hill to town, and finds me out here, and brings Mr. Houbland,2755 who met him here. So I was compelled to leave my Lord and his dinner and company, and with them to the Beare, and dined with them and their brothers, of which Hill had his and the other two of his, and mighty merry and very fine company they are, and I glad to see them. After dinner I forced to take leave of them by being called upon by Mr. Andrews, I having sent for him, and by a fine glosse did bring him to desire tallies for what orders I have to pay him and his company for Tangier victuals, and I by that means cleared to myself £210 coming to me upon their two orders, which is also a noble addition to my late profits, which have been very considerable of late, but how great I know not till I come to cast up my accounts, which burdens my mind that it should be so backward, but I am resolved to settle to nothing till I have done it. He gone, I to my Lord Brouncker’s, and there spent the evening by my desire in seeing his Lordship open to pieces and make up again his watch, thereby being taught what I never knew before; and it is a thing very well worth my having seen, and am mightily pleased and satisfied with it. So I sat talking with him till late at night, somewhat vexed at a snappish answer Madam Williams did give me to herself, upon my speaking a free word to her in mirthe, calling her a mad jade. She answered, we were not so well acquainted yet. But I was more at a letter from my Lord Duke of Albemarle today, pressing us to continue our meetings for all Christmas, which, though everybody intended not to have done, yet I am concluded in it, who intended nothing else. But I see it is necessary that I do make often visits to my Lord Duke, which nothing shall hinder after I have evened my accounts, and now the river is frozen I know not how to get to him. Thence to my lodging, making up my Journal for 8 or 9 days, and so my mind being eased of it, I to supper and to bed. The weather hath been frosty these eight or nine days, and so we hope for an abatement of the plague the next weeke, or else God have mercy upon us! for the plague will certainly continue the next year if it do not.
. At my office all the morning and home to dinner, my head full of business, and there my wife finds me unexpectedly. But I not being at leisure to stay or talk with her, she went down by coach to Woolwich, thinking to fetch Mrs. Barbary to carry her to London to keep her Christmas with her, and I to the office. This day one come to me with four great turkeys, as a present from Mr. Deane, at Harwich, three of which my wife carried in the evening home with her to London in her coach (Mrs. Barbary not being to be got so suddenly, but will come to her the next week), and I at my office late, and then to my lodgings to bed.
. Up betimes, to my Lord Duke of Albemarle by water, and after some talk with him about business of the office with great content, and so back again and to dinner, my landlady and her daughters with me, and had mince-pies, and very merry at a mischance her young son had in tearing of his new coat quite down the outside of his sleeve in the whole cloth, one of the strangest mishaps that ever I saw in my life. Then to church, and placed myself in the Parson’s pew under the pulpit, to hear Mrs. Chamberlain in the next pew sing, who is daughter to Sir James Bunch, of whom I have heard much, and indeed she sings very finely, and from church met with Sir W. Warren and he and I walked together talking about his and my businesses, getting of money as fairly as we can, and, having set him part of his way home, I walked to my Lord Brouncker, whom I heard was at Alderman Hooker’s, hoping to see and salute Mrs. Lethulier, whom I did see in passing, but no opportunity of beginning acquaintance, but a very noble lady she is, however the silly alderman got her. Here we sat talking a great while, Sir The. Biddulph and Mr. Vaughan, a son-in-law of Alderman Hooker’s. Hence with my Lord Brouncker home and sat a little with him and so home to bed.
. To church in the morning, and there saw a wedding in the church, which I have not seen many a day; and the young people so merry one with another, and strange to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition, every man and woman gazing and smiling at them. Here I saw again my beauty Lethulier. Thence to my Lord Brouncker’s by invitation and dined there, and so home to look over and settle my papers, both of my accounts private, and those of Tangier, which I have let go so long that it were impossible for any soul, had I died, to understand them, or ever come to any good end in them. I hope God will never suffer me to come to that disorder again.
. Up, and to the office, where Sir J. Minnes and my Lord Brouncker and I met, to give our directions to the Commanders of all the ships in the river to bring in lists of their ships’ companies, with entries, discharges, etc., all the last voyage, where young Seymour,2756 among 20 that stood bare, stood with his hat on, a proud, saucy young man. Thence with them to Mr. Cuttle’s, being invited, and dined nobly and neatly; with a very pretty house and a fine turret at top, with winding stairs and the finest prospect I know about all Greenwich, save the top of the hill, and yet in some respects better than that. Here I also saw some fine writing worke and flourishing of Mr. Hore, he one that I knew long ago, an acquaintance of Mr. Tomson’s at Westminster, that is this man’s clerk. It is the story of the several Archbishops of Canterbury, engrossed in vellum, to hang up in Canterbury Cathedrall in tables, in lieu of the old ones, which are almost worn out. Thence to the office a while, and so to Captain Cocke’s and there talked, and home to look over my papers, and so to bed.
. Up, and with Cocke, by coach to London, there home to my wife, and angry about her desiring a maid yet, before the plague is quite over. It seems Mercer is troubled that she hath not one under her, but I will not venture my family by increasing it before it be safe. Thence about many businesses, particularly with Sir W. Warren on the ’Change, and he and I dined together and settled our Tangier matters, wherein I get above £200 presently. We dined together at the Pope’s Head to do this, and thence to the goldsmiths, I to examine the state of my matters there too, and so with him to my house, but my wife was gone abroad to Mrs. Mercer’s, so we took boat, and it being dark and the thaw having broke the ice, but not carried it quite away, the boat did pass through so much of it all along, and that with the crackling and noise that it made me fearful indeed. So I forced the watermen to land us on Redriffe side, and so walked together till Sir W. Warren and I parted near his house and thence I walked quite over the fields home by light of linke, one of my watermen carrying it, and I reading by the light of it, it being a very fine, clear, dry night. So to Captain Cocke’s, and there sat and talked, especially with his Counsellor, about his prize goods, that hath done him good turne, being of the company with Captain Fisher, his name Godderson; here I supped and so home to bed, with great content that the plague is decreased to 152, the whole being but 330.
. Up and to the office, and thence with a great deal of business in my head, dined alone with Cocke. So home alone strictly about my accounts, wherein I made a good beginning, and so, after letters wrote by the post, to bed.
. Up betimes, and all day long within doors upon my accounts, public and private, and find the ill effect of letting them go so long without evening, that no soul could have ever understood them but myself, and I with much ado. But, however, my regularity in all I did and spent do help me, and I hope to find them well. Late at them and to bed.
. Up and to the office, at noon home to dinner, and all the afternoon to my accounts again, and there find myself, to my great joy, a great deal worth above £4,000, for which the Lord be praised! and is principally occasioned by my getting £500 of Cocke, for my profit in his bargains of prize goods, and from Mr. Gawden’s making me a present of £500 more, when I paid him £8,000 for Tangier. So to my office to write letters, then to my accounts again, and so to bed, being in great ease of mind.
. All the morning in my chamber, writing fair the state of my Tangier accounts, and so dined at home. In the afternoon to the Duke of Albemarle and thence back again by water, and so to my chamber to finish the entry of my accounts and to think of the business I am next to do, which is the stating my thoughts and putting in order my collections about the business of pursers, to see where the fault of our present constitution relating to them lies and what to propose to mend it, and upon this late and with my head full of this business to bed. Thus ends this year, to my great joy, in this manner. I have raised my estate from £1,300 in this year to £4,400. I have got myself greater interest, I think, by my diligence, and my employments increased by that of Treasurer for Tangier, and Surveyour of the Victuals. It is true we have gone through great melancholy because of the great plague, and I put to great charges by it, by keeping my family long at Woolwich, and myself and another part of my family, my clerks, at my charge at Greenwich, and a maid at London; but I hope the King will give us some satisfaction for that. But now the plague is abated almost to nothing, and I intending to get to London as fast as I can. My family, that is my wife and maids, having been there these two or three weeks. The Dutch war goes on very ill, by reason of lack of money; having none to hope for, all being put into disorder by a new Act that is made as an experiment to bring credit to the Exchequer, for goods and money to be advanced upon the credit of that Act. I have never lived so merrily (besides that I never got so much) as I have done this plague time, by my Lord Brouncker’s and Captain Cocke’s good company, and the acquaintance of Mrs. Knipp, Coleman and her husband, and Mr. Laneare, and great store of dancings we have had at my cost (which I was willing to indulge myself and wife) at my lodgings. The great evil of this year, and the only one indeed, is the fall of my Lord of Sandwich, whose mistake about the prizes hath undone him, I believe, as to interest at Court; though sent (for a little palliating it) Embassador into Spain, which he is now fitting himself for. But the Duke of Albemarle goes with the Prince to sea this next year, and my Lord very meanly spoken of; and, indeed, his miscarriage about the prize goods is not to be excused, to suffer a company of rogues to go away with ten times as much as himself, and the blame of all to be deservedly laid upon him.2757 My whole family hath been well all this while, and all my friends I know of, saving my aunt Bell, who is dead, and some children of my cousin Sarah’s, of the plague. But many of such as I know very well, dead; yet, to our great joy, the town fills apace, and shops begin to be open again. Pray God continue the plague’s decrease! for that keeps the Court away from the place of business, and so all goes to rack as to public matters, they at this distance not thinking of it.
January 1665–66
. Called up by five o’clock, by my order, by Mr. Tooker, who wrote, while I dictated to him, my business of the Pursers; and so, without eating or drinking, till three in the afternoon, and then, to my great content, finished it. So to dinner, Gibson and he and I, and then to copying it over, Mr. Gibson reading and I writing, and went a good way in it till interrupted by Sir W. Warren’s coming, of whom I always learne something or other, his discourse being very good and his brains also. He being gone we to our business again, and wrote more of it fair, and then late to bed.2758
. Up by candlelight again, and wrote the greatest part of my business fair, and then to the office, and so home to dinner, and after dinner up and made an end of my fair writing it, and that being done, set two entering while to my Lord Brouncker’s, and there find Sir J. Minnes and all his company, and Mr. Boreman and Mrs. Turner, but, above all, my dear Mrs. Knipp, with whom I sang, and in perfect pleasure I was to hear her sing, and especially her little Scotch song of “Barbary Allen;”2759 and to make our mirthe the completer, Sir J. Minnes was in the highest pitch of mirthe, and his mimical tricks, that ever I saw, and most excellent pleasant company he is, and the best mimic that ever I saw, and certainly would have made an excellent actor, and now would be an excellent teacher of actors. Thence, it being post night, against my will took leave, but before I come to my office, longing for more of her company, I returned and met them coming home in coaches, so I got into the coach where Mrs. Knipp was and got her upon my knee (the coach being full) and played with her breasts and sung, and at last set her at her house and so good night. So home to my lodgings and there endeavoured to have finished the examining my papers of Pursers’ business to have sent away tonight, but I was so sleepy with my late early risings and late goings to bed that I could not do it, but was forced to go to bed and leave it to send away tomorrow by an Express.
. Up, and all the morning till three in the afternoon examining and fitting up my Pursers’ paper and sent it away by an Express. Then comes my wife, and I set her to get supper ready against I go to the Duke of Albemarle and back again; and at the Duke’s with great joy I received the good news of the decrease of the plague this week to 70, and but 253 in all; which is the least Bill hath been known these twenty years in the City. Through the want of people in London is it, that must make it so low below the ordinary number for Bills. So home, and find all my good company I had bespoke, as Coleman and his wife, and Laneare, Knipp and her surly husband; and good music we had, and, among other things, Mrs. Coleman sang my words I set of “Beauty retire,” and I think it is a good song, and they praise it mightily. Then to dancing and supper, and mighty merry till Mr. Rolt come in, whose pain of the tooth-ache made him no company, and spoilt ours; so he away, and then my wife’s teeth fell of aching, and she to bed. So forced to break up all with a good song, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where my Lord Brouncker and I, against Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes and the whole table, for Sir W. Warren in the business of his mast contract, and overcome them and got them to do what I had a mind to, for indeed my Lord being unconcerned in what I aimed at. So home to dinner, where Mr. Sheldon come by invitation from Woolwich, and as merry as I could be with all my thoughts about me and my wife still in pain of her tooth. He anon took leave and took Mrs. Barbary his niece home with him, and seems very thankful to me for the £10 I did give him for my wife’s rent of his house, and I am sure I am beholding to him, for it was a great convenience to me, and then my wife home to London by water and I to the office till 8 at night, and so to my Lord Brouncker’s, thinking to have been merry, having appointed a meeting for Sir J. Minnes and his company and Mrs. Knipp again, but whatever hindered I know not, but no company come, which vexed me because it disappointed me of the glut of mirthe I hoped for. However, good discourse with my Lord and merry, with Mrs. Williams’s descants upon Sir J. Minnes’s and Mrs. Turner’s not coming. So home and to bed.
. I with my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams by coach with four horses to London, to my Lord’s house in Covent-Guarden. But, Lord! what staring to see a nobleman’s coach come to town. And porters everywhere bow to us; and such begging of beggars! And a delightful thing it is to see the town full of people again as now it is; and shops begin to open, though in many places seven or eight together, and more, all shut; but yet the town is full, compared with what it used to be. I mean the City end; for Covent-Guarden and Westminster are yet very empty of people, no Court nor gentry being there. Set Mrs. Williams down at my Lord’s house and he and I to Sir G. Carteret, at his chamber at Whitehall, he being come to town last night to stay one day. So my Lord and he and I much talk about the Act, what credit we find upon it, but no private talk between him and I. So I to the ’Change, and there met Mr. Povy, newly come to town, and he and I to Sir George Smith’s and there dined nobly. He tells me how my Lord Bellases complains for want of money and of him and me therein, but I value it not, for I know I do all that can be done. We had no time to talk of particulars, but leave it to another day, and I away to Cornhill to expect my Lord Brouncker’s coming back again, and I stayed at my stationer’s house, and by and by comes my Lord, and did take me up and so to Greenwich, and after sitting with them a while at their house, home, thinking to get Mrs. Knipp, but could not, she being busy with company, but sent me a pleasant letter, writing herself “Barbary Allen.” I went therefore to Mr. Boreman’s for pastime, and there stayed an houre or two talking with him, and reading a discourse about the River of Thames, the reason of its being choked up in several places with shelfes; which is plain is, by the encroachments made upon the River, and running out of causeways into the River at every wood-wharf; which was not heretofore when Westminster Hall and Whitehall were built, and Redriffe Church, which now are sometimes overflown with water. I had great satisfaction herein. So home and to my papers for lacke of company, but by and by comes little Mrs. Tooker and sat and supped with me, and I kept her very late talking and making her comb my head, and did what I will with her. So late to bed.
. Up betimes and by water to the Cockpit, there met Sir G. Carteret and, after discourse with the Duke, all together, and there saw a letter wherein Sir W. Coventry did take notice to the Duke with a commendation of my paper about Pursers, I to walke in the Park with the Vice-Chamberlain, and received his advice about my deportment about the advancing the credit of the Act; giving me caution to see that we do not misguide the King by making them believe greater matters from it than will be found. But I see that this arises from his great trouble to see the Act succeede, and to hear my name so much used and my letters shown at Court about goods served us in upon the credit of it. But I do make him believe that I do it with all respect to him and on his behalfe too, as indeed I do, as well as my own, that it may not be said that he or I do not assist therein. He tells me that my Lord Sandwich do proceed on his journey with the greatest kindness that can be imagined from the King and Chancellor, which was joyful news to me. Thence with Lord Brouncker to Greenwich by water to a great dinner and much company; Mr. Cottle and his lady and others and I went, hoping to get Mrs. Knipp to us, having wrote a letter to her in the morning, calling myself “Dapper Dicky,”2760 in answer to hers of “Barbary Allen,” but could not, and am told by the boy that carried my letter, that he found her crying; but I fear she lives a sad life with that ill-natured fellow her husband: so we had a great, but I a melancholy dinner, having not her there, as I hoped. After dinner to cards, and then comes notice that my wife is come unexpectedly to me to town. So I to her. It is only to see what I do, and why I come not home; and she is in the right that I would have a little more of Mrs. Knipp’s company before I go away. My wife to fetch away my things from Woolwich, and I back to cards and after cards to choose King and Queen, and a good cake there was, but no marks found; but I privately found the clove, the mark of the knave, and privately put it into Captain Cocke’s piece, which made some mirthe, because of his lately being known by his buying of clove and mace of the East India prizes. At night home to my lodging, where I find my wife returned with my things, and there also Captain Ferrers is come upon business of my Lord’s to this town about getting some goods of his put on board in order to his going to Spain, and Ferrers presumes upon my finding a bed for him, which I did not like to have done without my invitation because I had done [it] several times before, during the plague, that he could not provide himself safely elsewhere. But it being Twelfth Night, they had got the fiddler and mighty merry they were; and I above come not to them, but when I had done my business among my papers went to bed, leaving them dancing, and choosing King and Queen.
. Up, and being trimmed I was invited by Captain Cocke, so I left my wife, having a mind to some discourse with him, and dined with him. He tells me of new difficulties about his goods which troubles me and I fear they will be great. He tells me too what I hear everywhere how the town talks of my Lord Craven being to come into Sir G. Carteret’s place; but sure it cannot be true. But I do fear those two families, his and my Lord Sandwich’s, are quite broken. And I must now stand upon my own legs. Thence to my lodging, and considering how I am hindered by company there to do anything among my papers, I did resolve to go away today rather than stay to no purpose till tomorrow and so got all my things packed up and spent half an hour with W. Howe about his papers of accounts for contingencies and my Lord’s accounts, so took leave of my landlady and daughters, having paid dear for what time I have spent there, but yet having been quiet and my health, I am very well contented therewith. So with my wife and Mercer took boat and away home; but in the evening, before I went, comes Mrs. Knipp, just to speake with me privately, to excuse her not coming to me yesterday, complaining how like a devil her husband treats her, but will be with us in town a weeke hence, and so I kissed her and parted. Being come home, my wife and I to look over our house and consider of laying out a little money to hang our bedchamber better than it is, and so resolved to go and buy something tomorrow, and so after supper, with great joy in my heart for my coming once again hither, to bed.
. Up, and my wife and I by coach to Bennett’s, in Paternoster Row, few shops there being yet open, and there bought velvet for a coat, and camlet for a cloake for myself; and thence to a place to look over some fine counterfeit damasks to hang my wife’s closet, and pitched upon one, and so by coach home again, I calling at the ’Change, and so home to dinner and all the afternoon look after my papers at home and my office against tomorrow, and so after supper and considering the uselessness of laying out so much money upon my wife’s closet, but only the chamber, to bed.
. Up, and then to the office, where we met first since the plague, which God preserve us in! At noon home to dinner, where uncle Thomas with me, and in comes Pierce lately come from Oxford, and Ferrers. After dinner Pierce and I up to my chamber, where he tells me how a great difference hath been between the Duke and Duchess, he suspecting her to be naught with Mr. Sidney.2761 But some way or other the matter is made up; but he was banished the Court, and the Duke for many days did not speak to the Duchess at all. He tells me that my Lord Sandwich is lost there at Court, though the King is particularly his friend. But people do speak everywhere slightly of him; which is a sad story to me, but I hope it may be better again. And that Sir G. Carteret is neglected, and hath great enemies at work against him. That matters must needs go bad, while all the town, and every boy in the street, openly cries, “The King cannot go away till my Lady Castlemaine be ready to come along with him;” she being lately put to bed.2762 And that he visits her and Mrs. Stewart every morning before he eats his breakfast. All this put together makes me very sad, but yet I hope I shall do pretty well among them for all this, by my not meddling with either of their matters. He and Ferrers gone I paid uncle Thomas his last quarter’s money, and then comes Mr. Gawden and he and I talked above stairs together a good while about his business, and to my great joy got him to declare that of the £500 he did give me the other day, none of it was for my Treasurership for Tangier (I first telling him how matters stand between Povy and I, that he was to have half of whatever was coming to me by that office), and that he will gratify me at 2 percent for that when he next receives any money. So there is £80 due to me more than I thought of. He gone I with a glad heart to the office to write, my letters and so home to supper and bed, my wife mighty full of her worke she hath to do in furnishing her bedchamber.
. Up, and by coach to Sir G. Downing, where Mr. Gawden met me by agreement to talk upon the Act. I do find Sir G. Downing to be a mighty talker, more than is true, which I now know to be so, and suspected it before, but for all that I have good grounds to think it will succeed for goods and in time for money too, but not presently. Having done with him, I to my Lord Brouncker’s house in Covent-Garden, and, among other things, it was to acquaint him with my paper of Pursers, and read it to him, and had his good liking of it. Showed him Mr. Coventry’s sense of it, which he sent me last post much to my satisfaction. Thence to the ’Change, and there hear to our grief how the plague is increased this week from seventy to eighty-nine. We have also great fear of our Hambrough fleet, of their meeting the Dutch; as also have certain news, that by storms Sir Jer. Smith’s fleet is scattered, and three of them come without masts back to Plymouth, which is another very exceeding great disappointment,2763 and if the victualling ships are miscarried will tend to the losse of the garrison of Tangier. Thence home, in my way had the opportunity I longed for, of seeing and saluting Mrs. Stokes, my little goldsmith’s wife in Paternoster Row, and there bespoke some thing, a silver chafing-dish for warming plates, and so home to dinner, found my wife busy about making her hangings for her chamber with the upholster. So I to the office and anon to the Duke of Albemarle, by coach at night, taking, for saving time, Sir W. Warren with me, talking of our businesses all the way going and coming, and there got his reference of my pursers’ paper to the Board to consider of it before he reads it, for he will never understand it I am sure. Here I saw Sir W. Coventry’s kind letter to him concerning my paper, and among others of his letters, which I saw all, and that is a strange thing, that whatever is writ to this Duke of Albemarle, all the world may see; for this very night he did give me Mr. Coventry’s letter to read, soon as it come to his hand, before he had read it himself, and bid me take out of it what concerned the Navy, and many things there was in it, which I should not have thought fit for him to have let anybody so suddenly see; but, among other things, find him profess himself to the Duke a friend into the inquiring further into the business of Prizes, and advises that it may be public, for the righting the King, and satisfying the people and getting the blame to be rightly laid where it should be, which strikes very hard upon my Lord Sandwich, and troubles me to read it. Besides, which vexes me more, I heard the damned Duchess again say to twenty gentlemen publicly in the room, that she would have Montagu sent once more to sea, before he goes his Embassy, that we may see whether he will make amends for his cowardice, and repeated the answer she did give the other day in my hearing to Sir G. Downing, wishing her Lord had been a coward, for then perhaps he might have been made an Embassador, and not been sent now to sea. But one good thing she said, she cried mightily out against the having of gentlemen Captains with feathers and ribbons, and wished the King would send her husband to sea with the old plain sea Captains, that he served with formerly, that would make their ships swim with blood, though they could not make legs2764 as Captains nowadays can. It grieved me to see how slightly the Duke do everything in the world, and how the King and everybody suffers whatever he will to be done in the Navy, though never so much against reason, as in the business of recalling tickets, which will be done notwithstanding all the arguments against it. So back again to my office, and there to business and so to bed.
. Up and to the office. By and by to the Custome House to the Farmers, there with a letter of Sir G. Carteret’s for £3,000, which they ordered to be paid me. So away back again to the office, and at noon to dinner all of us by invitation to Sir W. Penn’s, and much other company. Among others, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Broome, his poet,2765 and Dr. Whistler, and his (Sir W. Penn’s) son-in-law Lowder,2766 servant to Mrs. Margaret Penn, and Sir Edward Spragg, a merry man, that sang a pleasant song pleasantly. Rose from table before half dined, and with Mr. Mountney of the Custome House to the East India House, and there delivered to him tallies for £3,000 and received a note for the money on Sir R. Viner. So ended the matter, and back to my company, where stayed a little, and thence away with my Lord Brouncker for discourse sake, and he and I to Gresham College to have seen Mr. Hooke and a new invented chariot of Dr. Wilkins, but met with nobody at home.2767 So to Dr. Wilkins’s, where I never was before, and very kindly received and met with Dr. Merritt, and fine discourse among them to my great joy, so sober and so ingenious. He is now upon finishing his discourse of a universal character. So away and I home to my office about my letters, and so home to supper and to bed.
. By coach to the Duke of Albemarle, where Sir W. Batten and I only met. Troubled at my heart to see how things are ordered there without consideration or understanding. Thence back by coach and called at Wotton’s, my shoemaker, lately come to town, and bespoke shoes, as also got him to find me a tailor to make me some clothes, my own being not yet in town, nor Pym, my Lord Sandwich’s tailor. So he helped me to a pretty man, one Mr. Penny, against St. Dunstan’s Church. Thence to the ’Change and there met Mr. Moore, newly come to town, and took him home to dinner with me and after dinner to talk, and he and I do conclude my Lord’s case to be very bad and may be worse, if he do not get a pardon for his doings about the prizes and his business at Bergen, and other things done by him at sea, before he goes for Spain. I do use all the art I can to get him to get my Lord to pay my cousin Pepys, for it is a great burden to my mind my being bound for my Lord in £1,000 to him. Having done discourse with him and directed him to go with my advice to my Lord express tomorrow to get his pardon perfected before his going, because of what I read the other night in Sir W. Coventry’s letter, I to the office, and there had an extraordinary meeting of Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and Sir W. Penn, and my Lord Brouncker and I to hear my paper read about pursers, which they did all of them with great good will and great approbation of my method and pains in all, only Sir W. Penn, who must except against everything and remedy nothing, did except against my proposal for some reasons, which I could not understand, I confess, nor my Lord Brouncker neither, but he did detect indeed a failure or two of mine in my report about the ill condition of the present pursers, which I did magnify in one or two little things, to which, I think, he did with reason except, but at last with all respect did declare the best thing he ever heard of this kind, but when Sir W. Batten did say, “Let us that do know the practical part of the Victualling meet Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Penn and I and see what we can do to mend all,” he was so far from offering or furthering it, that he declined it and said, he must be out of town. So as I ever knew him never did in his life ever attempt to mend anything, but suffer all things to go on in the way they are, though never so bad, rather than improve his experience to the King’s advantage. So we broke up, however, they promising to meet to offer some thing in it of their opinions, and so we rose, and I and my Lord Brouncker by coach a little way for discourse sake, till our coach broke, and tumbled me over him quite down the side of the coach, falling on the ground about the Stockes,2768 but up again, and thinking it fit to have for my honour some thing reported in writing to the Duke in favour of my pains in this, lest it should be thought to be rejected as frivolous, I did move it to my Lord, and he will see it done tomorrow. So we parted, and I to the office and thence home to my poor wife, who works all day at home like a horse, at the making of her hangings for our chamber and the bed. So to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, where my Lord Brouncker moved to have something wrote in my matter as I desired him last night, and it was ordered and will be done next sitting. Home with his Lordship to Mrs. Williams’s, in Covent-Garden, to dinner (the first time I ever was there), and there met Captain Cocke; and pretty merry, though not perfectly so, because of the fear that there is of a great increase again of the plague this week. And again my Lord Brouncker do tell us, that he hath it from Sir John Baber,2769 who is related to my Lord Craven, that my Lord Craven do look after Sir G. Carteret’s place, and do reckon himself sure of it. After dinner Cocke and I together by coach to the Exchange, in our way talking of our matters, and do conclude that everything must breake in pieces, while no better counsels govern matters than there seem to do, and that it will become him and I and all men to get their reckonings even, as soon as they can, and expect all to breake. Besides, if the plague continues among us another yeare, the Lord knows what will become of us. I set him down at the ’Change, and I home to my office, where late writing letters and doing business, and thence home to supper and to bed. My head full of cares, but pleased with my wife’s minding her worke so well, and busying herself about her house, and I trust in God if I can but clear myself of my Lord Sandwich’s bond, wherein I am bound with him for £1,000 to T. Pepys, I shall do pretty well, come what will come.
. Long in bed, till raised by my new tailor, Mr. Penny, [who] comes and brings me my new velvet coat, very handsome, but plain, and a day hence will bring me my camlet cloak. He gone I close to my papers and to set all in order and to perform my vow to finish my journal and other things before I kiss any woman more or drink any wine, which I must be forced to do tomorrow if I go to Greenwich as I am invited by Mr. Boreman to hear Mrs. Knipp sing, and I would be glad to go, so as we may be merry. At noon eat the second of the two cygnets Mr. Shepley sent us for a new-year’s gift, and presently to my chamber again and so to work hard all day about my Tangier accounts, which I am going again to make up, as also upon writing a letter to my father about Pall, whom it is time now I find to think of disposing of while God Almighty hath given me something to give with her, and in my letter to my father I do offer to give her £450 to make her own £50 given her by my uncle up £500. I do also therein propose Mr. Harman the upholster for a husband for her, to whom I have a great love and did heretofore love his former wife, and a civil man he is and careful in his way, beside, I like his trade and place he lives in, being Cornhill. Thus late at work, and so to supper and to bed. This afternoon, after sermon, comes my dear fair beauty of the Exchange, Mrs. Batelier, brought by her sister, an acquaintance of Mercer’s, to see my wife. I saluted her with as much pleasure as I had done any a great while. We sat and talked together an houre, with infinite pleasure to me, and so the fair creature went away, and proves one of the modestest women, and pretty, that ever I saw in my life, and my [wife] judges her so too.
. Busy all the morning in my chamber in my old cloth suit, while my usuall one is to my tailor’s to mend, which I had at noon again, and an answer to a letter I had sent this morning to Mrs. Pierce to go along with my wife and I down to Greenwich tonight upon an invitation to Mr. Boreman’s to be merry to dance and sing with Mrs. Knipp. Being dressed, and having dined, I took coach and to Mrs. Pierce, to her new house in Covent-Garden, a very fine place and fine house. Took her thence home to my house, and so by water to Boreman’s by night, where the greatest disappointment that ever I saw in my life, much company, a good supper provided, and all come with expectation of excess of mirthe, but all blank through the waywardness of Mrs. Knipp, who, though she had appointed the night, could not be got to come. Not so much as her husband could get her to come; but, which was a pleasant thing in all my anger, I asking him, while we were in expectation what answer one of our many messengers would bring, what he thought, whether she would come or no, he answered that, for his part, he could not so much as think. By and by we all to supper, which the silly master of the feast commended, but, what with my being out of humour, and the badness of the meate dressed, I did never eat a worse supper in my life. At last, very late, and supper done, she came undressed, but it brought me no mirthe at all; only, after all being done, without singing, or very little, and no dancing, Pierce and I to bed together, and he and I very merry to find how little and thin clothes they give us to cover us, so that we were fain to lie in our stockings and drawers, and lay all our coates and clothes upon the bed. So to sleep.
. Up, and leaving the women in bed together (a pretty black and white) I to London to the office, and there forgot, through business, to bespeake any dinner for my wife and Mrs. Pierce. However, by noon they come, and a dinner we had, and Kate Joyce comes to see us, with whom very merry. After dinner she and I up to my chamber, who told me her business was chiefly for my advice about her husband’s leaving off his trade, which though I wish enough, yet I did advise against, for he is a man will not know how to live idle, and employment he is fit for none. Thence anon carried her and Mrs. Pierce home, and so to the Duke of Albemarle, and mighty kind he to me still. So home late at my letters, and so to bed, being mightily troubled at the news of the plague’s being increased, and was much the saddest news that the plague hath brought me from the beginning of it; because of the lateness of the year, and the fear, we may with reason have, of its continuing with us the next summer. The total being now 375, and the plague 158.
. Busy all the morning, settling things against my going out of town this night. After dinner, late took horse, having sent for Lashmore to go with me, and so he and I rode to Dagenhams in the dark. There find the whole family well. It was my Lord Crew’s desire that I should come, and chiefly to discourse with me of Lord Sandwich’s matters; and therein to persuade, what I had done already, that my Lord should sue out a pardon for his business of the prizes, as also for Bergen, and all he hath done this year past, before he begins his Embassy to Spain. For it is to be feared that the Parliament will fly out against him and particular men, the next Session. He is glad also that my Lord is clear of his sea-employment, though sorry as I am, only in the manner of its bringing about. By and by to supper, my Lady Wright very kind. After supper up to wait on my Lady Crew, who is the same weake silly lady as ever, asking such saintly questions. Down to my Lord again and sat talking an houre or two, and anon to prayers the whole family, and then all to bed, I handsomely used, lying in the chamber Mr. Carteret formerly did, but sat up an houre talking sillily with Mr. Carteret and Mr. Marre, and so to bed.
. Up before day and thence rode to London before office time, where I met a note at the door to invite me to supper to Mrs. Pierce’s because of Mrs. Knipp, who is in town and at her house. To the office, where, among other things, vexed with Major Norwood’s coming, who takes it ill my not paying a bill of Exchange of his, but I have good reason for it, and so the less troubled, but yet troubled, so as at noon being carried by my Lord Brouncker to Captain Cocke’s to dinner, where Mrs. Williams was, and Mrs. Knipp, I was not heartily merry, though a glasse of wine did a little cheer me. After dinner to the office. Anon comes to me thither my Lord Brouncker, Mrs. Williams, and Knipp. I brought down my wife in her nightgown, she not being indeed very well, to the office to them and there by and by they parted all and my wife and I anon and Mercer, by coach, to Pierce’s; where mighty merry, and sing and dance with great pleasure; and I danced, who never did in company in my life, and Captain Cocke come for a little while and danced, but went away, but we stayed and had a pretty supper, and spent till two in the morning, but got home well by coach, though as dark as pitch, and so to bed.
. Up and ready, called on by Mr. Moone, my Lord Bellases’ secretary, who and I good friends though I have failed him in some payments. Thence with Sir J. Minnes to the Duke of Albemarle’s, and carried all well, and met Norwood but prevented him in desiring a meeting of the Commissioners for Tangier. Thence to look for Sir H. [Cholmly], but he not within, he coming to town last night. It is a remarkable thing how infinitely naked all that end of the town, Covent-Garden, is at this day of people; while the City is almost as full again of people as ever it was. To the ’Change and so home to dinner and the office, whither anon comes Sir H. Cholmley to me, and he and I to my house, there to settle his accounts with me, and so with great pleasure we agreed and great friends become, I think, and he presented me upon the foot of our accounts for this year’s service for him £100, whereof Povy must have half. Thence to the office and wrote a letter to Norwood to satisfy him about my nonpayment of his bill, for that do still stick in my mind. So at night home to supper and to bed.
. To the office, where upon Mr. Kinaston’s coming to me about some business of Colonel Norwood’s, I sent my boy home for some papers, where, he staying longer than I would have him, and being vexed at the business and to be kept from my fellows in the office longer than was fit, I become angry, and boxed my boy when he came, that I do hurt my thumb so much, that I was not able to stir all the day after, and in great pain. At noon to dinner, and then to the office again, late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Lay almost till noon merrily and with pleasure talking with my wife in bed. Then up looking about my house, and the roome which my wife is dressing up, having new hung our bedchamber with blue, very handsome. After dinner to my Tangier accounts and there stated them against tomorrow very distinctly for the Lords to see who meet tomorrow, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and set my people to work in copying Tangier accounts, and I down the river to Greenwich to the office to fetch away some papers and thence to Deptford, where by agreement my Lord Brouncker was to come, but stayed almost till noon, after I had spent an houre with W. Howe talking of my Lord Sandwich’s matters and his folly in minding his pleasures too much nowadays, and permitting himself to be governed by Cuttance to the displeasing of all the Commanders almost of the fleet, and thence we may conceive indeed the rise of all my Lord’s misfortunes of late. At noon my Lord Brouncker did come, but left the keys of the chests we should open, at Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings, of my Lord Sandwich’s, wherein Howe’s supposed jewels are;2770 so we could not, according to my Lord Arlington’s order, see them today; but we parted, resolving to meet here at night: my Lord Brouncker being going with Dr. Wilkins, Mr. Hooke,2771 and others, to Colonel Blunt’s, to consider again of the business of charriots, and to try their new invention. Which I saw here my Lord Brouncker ride in; where the coachman sits astride upon a pole over the horse, but do not touch the horse, which is a pretty odde thing; but it seems it is most easy for the horse, and, as they say, for the man also. Thence I with speede by water home and eat a bit, and took my accounts and to the Duke of Albemarle, where for all I feared of Norwood he was very civil, and Sir Thomas Ingram beyond expectation, I giving them all content and I thereby settled mightily in my mind, for I was weary of the employment, and had had thoughts of giving it over. I did also give a good step in a business of Mr. Hubland’s, about getting a ship of his to go to Tangier, which during this strict embargo is a great matter, and I shall have a good reward for it, I hope. Thence by water in the dark down to Deptford, and there find my Lord Brouncker come and gone, having stayed long for me. I back presently to the Crown tavern behind the Exchange by appointment, and there met the first meeting of Gresham College since the plague. Dr. Goddard did fill us with talk, in defence of his and his fellow physicians going out of town in the plague-time; saying that their particular patients were most gone out of town, and they left at liberty; and a great deal more, etc. But what, among other fine discourse pleased me most, was Sir G. Ent2772 about Respiration; that it is not to this day known, or concluded on among physicians, nor to be done either, how the action is managed by nature, or for what use it is. Here late till poor Dr. Merriot2773 was drunk, and so all home, and I to bed.
. Up and to the office and then to dinner. After dinner to the office again all the afternoon, and much business with me. Good news beyond all expectation of the decrease of the plague, being now but 79, and the whole but 272. So home with comfort to bed. A most furious storme all night and morning.
. By agreement my Lord Brouncker called me up, and though it was a very foule, windy, and rainy morning, yet down to the waterside we went, but no boat could go, the storme continued so. So my Lord to stay till fairer weather carried me into the Tower to Mr. Hore’s and there we stayed talking an houre, but at last we found no boats yet could go, so we to the office, where we met upon an occasion extraordinary of examining abuses of our clerkes in taking money for examining of tickets, but nothing done in it. Thence my Lord and I, the weather being a little fairer, by water to Deptford to Sir G. Carteret’s house, where W. Howe met us, and there we opened the chests, and saw the poor sorry rubies which have caused all this ado to the undoing of W. Howe; though I am not much sorry for it, because of his pride and ill nature. About 200 of these very small stones, and a cod of muske (which it is strange I was not able to smell) is all we could find; so locked them up again, and my Lord and I, the wind being again very furious, so as we durst not go by water, walked to London quite round the bridge, no boat being able to stir; and, Lord! what a dirty walk we had, and so strong the wind, that in the fields we many times could not carry our bodies against it, but were driven backwards. We went through Horsydowne, where I never was since a little boy, that I went to enquire after my father, whom we did give over for lost coming from Holland.2774 It was dangerous to walk the streets, the bricks and tiles falling from the houses that the whole streets were covered with them; and whole chimneys, nay, whole houses in two or three places, blowed down. But, above all, the pales on London-bridge on both sides were blown away, so that we were fain to stoop very low for fear of blowing off of the bridge. We could see no boats in the Thames afloat, but what were broke loose, and carried through the bridge, it being ebbing water. And the greatest sight of all was, among other parcels of ships driven here and there in clusters together, one was quite overset and lay with her masts all along in the water, and keel above water. So walked home, my Lord away to his house and I to dinner, Mr. Creed being come to town and to dine with me, though now it was three o’clock. After dinner he and I to our accounts and very troublesome he is and with tricks which I found plainly and was vexed at; while we were together comes Sir G. Downing with Colonel Norwood, Rumball,2775 and Warrupp to visit me. I made them drink good wine and discoursed above alone a good while with Sir G. Downing, who is very troublesome, and then with Colonel Norwood, who hath a great mind to have me concerned with him in everything; which I like, but am shy of adventuring too much, but will think of it. They gone, Creed and I to finish the settling his accounts. Thence to the office, where the Houblans and we discoursed upon a rubb which we have for one of the ships I hoped to have got to go out to Tangier for them. They being gone, I to my office-business late, and then home to supper and even sacke for lacke of a little wine, which I was forced to drink against my oathe, but without pleasure.
. Up and to the office, at noon home to dinner. So abroad to the Duke of Albemarle and Kate Joyce’s and her husband, with whom I talked a great deal about Pall’s business, and told them what portion I would give her, and they do mightily like of it and will proceed further in speaking with Harman, who hath already been spoke to about it, as from them only, and he is mighty glad of it, but doubts it may be an offence to me, if I should know of it, so thinks that it do come only from Joyce, which I like the better. So I do believe the business will go on, and I desire it were over. I to the office then, where I did much business, and set my people to work against furnishing me to go to Hampton Court, where the King and Duke will be on Sunday next. It is now certain that the King of France hath publicly declared war against us, and God knows how little fit we are for it. At night comes Sir W. Warren, and he and I into the garden, and talked over all our businesses. He gives me good advice not to embark into trade (as I have had it in my thoughts about Colonel Norwood) so as to be seen to mind it, for it will do me hurte, and draw my mind off from my business and embroile my estate too soon. So to the office business, and I find him as cunning a man in all points as ever I met with in my life and mighty merry we were in the discourse of our own trickes. So about 10 o’clock at night I home and stayed with him there settling my Tangier-Boates business and talking and laughing at the folly of some of our neighbours of this office till two in the morning and so to bed.
. Up, and pleased mightily with what my poor wife hath been doing these eight or ten days with her own hands, like a drudge in fitting the new hangings of our bedchamber of blue, and putting the old red ones into my dressing-room, and so by coach to Whitehall, where I had just now notice that Sir G. Carteret is come to town. He seems pleased, but I perceive he is heartily troubled at this Act, and the report of his losing his place, and more at my not writing to him to the prejudice of the Act. But I carry all fair to him and he to me. He bemoans the Kingdom as in a sad state, and with too much reason I doubt, having so many enemies about us and no friends abroad, nor money nor love at home. Thence to the Duke of Albemarle, and there a meeting with all the officers of the Navy, where, Lord! to see how the Duke of Albemarle flatters himself with false hopes of money and victuals and all without reason. Then comes the Committee of Tangier to sit, and I there carry all before me very well. Thence with Sir J. Bankes and Mr. Gawden to the ’Change, they both very wise men. After ’Change and agreeing with Houblon about our ships, D. Gawden and I to the Pope’s Head and there dined and little Chaplin (who a rich man grown). He gone after dinner, D. Gawden and I to talk of the Victualling business of the Navy in what posture it is, which is very sad also for want of money. Thence home to my chamber by oathe to finish my Journal. Here W. Hewer came to me with £320 from Sir W. Warren, whereof £220 is got clearly by a late business of insurance of the Gottenburg ships, and the other £100 which was due and he had promised me before to give me to my very extraordinary joy, for which I ought and do bless God and so to my office, where late providing a letter to send to Mr. Gawden in a manner we concluded on today, and so to bed.
. Up very betimes to finish my letter and writ it fair to Mr. Gawden, it being to demand several arrears in the present state of the victualling, partly to the King’s and partly to give him occasion to say something relating to the want of money on his own behalf. This done I to the office, where all the morning. At noon after a bit of dinner back to the office and there fitting myself in all points to give an account to the Duke and Mr. Coventry in all things, and in my Tangier business, till three o’clock in the morning, and so to bed,
. And up again about six (Lord’s day), and being dressed in my velvet coat and plain cravat took a hackney coach provided ready for me by eight o’clock, and so to my Lord Brouncker’s with all my papers, and there took his coach with four horses and away toward Hampton Court, having a great deal of good discourse with him, particularly about his coming to lie at the office, when I went further in inviting him to than I intended, having not yet considered whether it will be convenient for me or no to have him here so near us, and then of getting Mr. Evelyn or Sir Robert Murray into the Navy in the room of Sir Thomas Harvey. At Brainford I ’light, having need to shit, and went into an Inne door that stood open, found the house of office and used it, but saw no people, only after I was in the house, heard a great dog barke, and so was afeard how I should get safe back again, and therefore drew my sword and scabbard out of my belt to have ready in my hand, but did not need to use it, but got safe into the coach again, but lost my belt by the shift, not missing it till I come to Hampton Court. At the Wicke found Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten at a lodging provided for us by our messenger, and there a good dinner ready. After dinner took coach and to Court, where we find the King, and Duke, and Lords, all in council; so we walked up and down: there being none of the ladies come, and so much the more business I hope will be done. The Council being up, out comes the King, and I kissed his hand, and he grasped me very kindly by the hand. The Duke also, I kissed his, and he mighty kind, and Sir W. Coventry. I found my Lord Sandwich there, poor man! I see with a melancholy face, and suffers his beard to grow on his upper lip more than usual. I took him a little aside to know when I should wait on him, and where: he told me, and that it would be best to meet at his lodgings, without being seen to walk together. Which I liked very well; and, Lord! to see in what difficulty I stand, that I dare not walk with Sir W. Coventry, for fear my Lord or Sir G. Carteret should see me; nor with either of them, for fear Sir W. Coventry should. After changing a few words with Sir W. Coventry, who assures me of his respect and love to me, and his concernment for my health in all this sickness, I went down into one of the Courts, and there met the King and Duke; and the Duke called me to him. And the King come to me of himself, and told me, “Mr. Pepys,” says he, “I do give you thanks for your good service all this year, and I assure you I am very sensible of it.” And the Duke of York did tell me with pleasure, that he had read over my discourse about pursers, and would have it ordered in my way, and so fell from one discourse to another. I walked with them quite out of the Court into the fields, and then back to my Lord Sandwich’s chamber, where I find him very melancholy and not well satisfied, I perceive, with my carriage to Sir G. Carteret, but I did satisfy him and made him confess to me, that I have a very hard game to play; and told me he was sorry to see it, and the inconveniences which likely may fall upon me with him; but, for all that, I am not much afeard, if I can but keepe out of harm’s way in not being found too much concerned in my Lord’s or Sir G. Carteret’s matters, and that I will not be if I can help it. He hath got over his business of the prizes, so far as to have a privy seale passed for all that was in his distribution to the officers, which I am heartily glad of; and, for the rest, he must be answerable for what he is proved to have. But for his pardon for anything else, he thinks it not seasonable to aske it, and not useful to him; because that will not stop a Parliament’s mouth, and for the King, he is sure enough of him. I did aske him whether he was sure of the interest and friendship of any great Ministers of State and he told me, yes. As we were going further, in comes my Lord Mandeville, so we were forced to breake off and I away, and to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, where he not come in but I find Sir W. Penn, and he and I to discourse. I find him very much out of humour, so that I do not think matters go very well with him, and I am glad of it. He and I staying till late, and Sir W. Coventry not coming in (being shut up close all the afternoon with the Duke of Albemarle), we took boat, and by water to Kingston, and so to our lodgings, where a good supper and merry, only I sleepy, and therefore after supper I slunk away from the rest to bed, and lay very well and slept soundly, my mind being in a great delirium between joy for what the King and Duke have said to me and Sir W. Coventry, and trouble for my Lord Sandwich’s concernments, and how hard it will be for me to preserve myself from feeling thereof.
. Up, and to Court by coach, where to Council before the Duke of York, the Duke of Albemarle with us, and after Sir W. Coventry had gone over his notes that he had provided with the Duke of Albemarle, I went over all mine with good success, only I fear I did once offend the Duke of Albemarle, but I was much joyed to find the Duke of York so much contending for my discourse about the pursers against Sir W. Penn, who opposes it like a foole; my Lord Sandwich come in in the middle of the business, and, poor man, very melancholy, methought, and said little at all, or to the business, and sat at the lower end, just as he come, no roome being made for him, only I did give him my stoole, and another was reached me. After council done, I walked to and again up and down the house, discoursing with this and that man. Among others tooke occasion to thanke the Duke of York for his good opinion in general of my service, and particularly his favour in conferring on me the Victualling business. He told me that he knew nobody so fit as I for it, and next, he was very glad to find that to give me for my encouragement, speaking very kindly of me. So to Sir W. Coventry’s to dinner with him, whom I took occasion to thanke for his favour and good thoughts of what little service I did, desiring he would do the last act of friendship in telling me of my faults also. He told me he would be sure he would do that also, if there were any occasion for it. So that as much as it is possible under so great a fall of my Lord Sandwich’s, and difference between them, I may conclude that I am thoroughly right with Sir W. Coventry. I dined with him with a great deal of company, and much merry discourse. I was called away before dinner ended to go to my company who dined at our lodgings. Thither I went with Mr. Evelyn (whom I met) in his coach going that way, but finding my company gone, but my Lord Brouncker left his coach for me; so Mr. Evelyn and I into my Lord’s coach, and rode together with excellent discourse till we come to Clapham, talking of the vanity and vices of the Court, which makes it a most contemptible thing; and indeed in all his discourse I find him a most worthy person. Particularly he entertained me with discourse of an Infirmary, which he hath projected for the sick and wounded seamen against the next year, which I mightily approve of; and will endeavour to promote it, being a worthy thing, and of use, and will save money. He set me down at Mr. Gawden’s, where nobody yet come home, I having left him and his sons and Creed at Court, so I took a book and into the gardens, and there walked and read till dark with great pleasure, and then in and in comes Osborne, and he and I to talk of Mr. Jaggard, who comes from London, and great hopes there is of a decrease this week also of the plague. Anon comes in Creed, and after that Mr. Gawden and his sons, and then they bringing in three ladies, who were in the house, but I do not know them, his daughter and two nieces, daughters of Dr. Whistler’s, with whom and Creed mighty sport at supper, the ladies very pretty and mirthful. I perceive they know Creed’s gut and stomach as well as I, and made as much mirthe as I with it at supper. After supper I made the ladies sing, and they have been taught, but, Lord! though I was forced to commend them, yet it was the saddest stuff I ever heard. However, we sat up late, and then I, in the best chamber like a prince, to bed, and Creed with me, and being sleepy talked but little.
. Lay long till Mr. Gawden was gone out being to take a little journey. Up, and Creed and I some good discourse, but with some trouble for the state of my Lord’s matters. After walking a turne or two in the garden, and bid good morrow to Mr. Gawden’s sons, and sent my service to the ladies, I took coach after Mr. Gawden’s, and home, finding the town keeping the day solemnly, it being the day of the King’s murther, and they being at church, I presently into the church, thinking to see Mrs. Lethulier or Batelier, but did not, and a dull sermon of our young Lecturer, too bad. This is the first time I have been in this church since I left London for the plague, and it frighted me indeed to go through the church more than I thought it could have done, to see so [many] graves lie so high upon the churchyards where people have been buried of the plague.2776 I was much troubled at it, and do not think to go through it again a good while. So home to my wife, whom I find not well, in bed, and it seems hath not been well these two days. She rose and we to dinner, after dinner up to my chamber, where she entertained me with what she hath lately bought of clothes for herself, and Damask linen, and other things for the house. I did give her a serious account how matters stand with me, of favour with the King and Duke, and of danger in reference to my Lord’s and Sir G. Carteret’s falls, and the dissatisfaction I have heard the Duke of Albemarle hath acknowledged to somebody, among other things, against my Lord Sandwich, that he did bring me into the Navy against his desire and endeavour for another, which was our doting foole Turner. Thence from one discourse to another, and looking over my house, and other things I spent the day at home, and at night betimes to bed. After dinner this day I went down by water to Deptford, and fetched up what money there was of W. Howe’s contingencies in the chest there, being £516 13s. 3d. and brought it home to dispose of.
. Lay pretty long in bed, and then up and to the office, where we met on extraordinary occasion about the business of tickets. By and by to the ’Change, and there did several businesses, among others brought home my cousin Pepys, whom I appointed to be here today, and Mr. Moore met us upon the business of my Lord’s bond. Seeing my neighbour Mr. Knightly walk alone from the ’Change, his family being not yet come to town, I did invite him home with me, and he dined with me, a very sober, pretty man he is. He is mighty solicitous, as I find many about the City that live near the churchyards, to have the churchyards covered with lime, and I think it is needful, and ours I hope will be done. Good pleasant discourse at dinner of the practices of merchants to cheate the “Customers,” occasioned by Mr. Moore’s being with much trouble freed of his prize goods, which he bought, which fell into the Customers’ hands, and with much ado hath cleared them. Mr. Knightly being gone, my cousin Pepys and Moore and I to our business, being the clearing of my Lord Sandwich’s bond wherein I am bound with him to my cousin for £1,000 I have at last by my dexterity got my Lord’s consent to have it paid out of the money raised by his prizes. So the bond is cancelled, and he paid by having a note upon Sir Robert Viner, in whose hands I had lodged my Lord’s money, by which I am to my extraordinary comfort eased of a liableness to pay the sum in case of my Lord’s death, or troubles in estate, or my Lord’s greater fall, which God defend! Having settled this matter at Sir R. Viner’s, I took up Mr. Moore (my cousin going home) and to my Lord Chancellor’s new house which he is building, only to view it, hearing so much from Mr. Evelyn of it; and, indeed, it is the finest pile I ever did see in my life, and will be a glorious house.2777 Thence to the Duke of Albemarle, who tells me Mr. Coventry is come to town and directs me to go to him about some business in hand, whether out of displeasure or desire of ease I know not; but I asked him not the reason of it but went to Whitehall, but could not find him there, though to my great joy people begin to bustle up and down there, the King holding his resolution to be in town tomorrow, and hath good encouragement, blessed be God! to do so, the plague being decreased this week to 56, and the total to 227. So after going to the Swan in the Palace, and sent for Spicer to discourse about my last Tangier tallies that have some of the words washed out with the rain, to have them new writ, I home, and there did some business and at the office, and so home to supper, and to bed.
February 1665–66
. Up and to the office, where all the morning till late, and Mr. Coventry with us, the first time since before the plague, then hearing my wife was gone abroad to buy things and see her mother and father, whom she hath not seen since before the plague, and no dinner provided for me ready, I walked to Captain Cocke’s, knowing my Lord Brouncker dined there, and there very merry, and a good dinner. Thence my Lord and his mistress, Madam Williams, set me down at the Exchange, and I to Alderman Backewell’s to set all my reckonings straight there, which I did, and took up all my notes. So evened to this day, and thence to Sir Robert Viner’s, where I did the like, leaving clear in his hands just £2,000 of my own money, to be called for when I pleased. Having done all this I home, and there to the office, did my business there by the post and so home, and spent till one in the morning in my chamber to set right all my money matters, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and knowing that my Lord Sandwich is come to town with the King and Duke, I to wait upon him, which I did, and find him in very good humour, which I am glad to see with all my heart. Having received his commands, and discoursed with some of his people about my Lord’s going, and with Sir Roger Cuttance, who was there, and finds himself slighted by Sir W. Coventry, I advised him however to look after employment lest it should be said that my Lord’s friends do forsake the service after he hath made them rich with the prizes. I to London, and there among other things did look over some pictures at Cade’s for my house, and did carry home a silver drudger2778 for my cupboard of plate, and did call for my silver chafing dishes, but they are sent home, and the man would not be paid for them, saying that he was paid for them already, and with much ado got him to tell me by Mr. Wayth, but I would not accept of that, but will send him his money, not knowing any courtesy I have yet done him to deserve it. So home, and with my wife looked over our plate, and picked out £40 worth, I believe, to change for more useful plate, to our great content, and then we shall have a very handsome cupboard of plate. So to dinner, and then to the office, where we had a meeting extraordinary, about stating to the Duke the present debts of the Navy, for which ready money must be had, and that being done, I to my business, where late, and then home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office very busy till 3 o’clock, and then home, all of us, for half an hour to dinner, and to it again till eight at night, stating our wants of money for the Duke, but could not finish it. So broke up, and I to my office, then about letters and other businesses very late, and so home to supper, weary with business, and to bed.
. Lord’s day; and my wife and I the first time together at church since the plague, and now only because of Mr. Mills his coming home to preach his first sermon; expecting a great excuse for his leaving the parish before anybody went, and now staying till all are come home; but he made but a very poor and short excuse, and a bad sermon. It was a frost, and had snowed last night, which covered the graves in the churchyard, so as I was the less afeard for going through. Here I had the content to see my noble Mrs. Lethulier, and so home to dinner, and all the afternoon at my Journal till supper, it being a long while behindhand. At supper my wife tells me that W. Joyce has been with her this evening, the first time since the plague, and tells her my aunt James is lately dead of the stone, and what she had hath given to his and his brother’s wife and my cousin Sarah. So after supper to work again, and late to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten (at whose lodgings calling for him, I saw his Lady the first time since her coming to town since the plague, having absented myself designedly to show some discontent, and that I am not at all the more suppliant because of my Lord Sandwich’s fall), to my Lord Brouncker’s, to see whether he goes to the Duke’s this morning or no. But it is put off, and so we parted. My Lord invited me to dinner today to dine with Sir W. Batten and his Lady there, who were invited before, but lest he should think so little an invitation would serve my turne I refused and parted, and to Westminster about business, and so back to the ’Change, and there met Mr. Hill, newly come to town, and with him the Houblands, preparing for their ship’s and his going to Tangier, and agreed that I must sup with them tonight. So home and eat a bit, and then to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier, but it did not meet but was put off to tomorrow, so I did some little business and visited my Lord Sandwich, and so, it raining, went directly to the Sun, behind the Exchange, about seven o’clock, where I find all the five brothers Houblons, and mighty fine gentlemen they are all, and used me mighty respectfully. We were mighty civilly merry, and their discourses, having been all abroad, very fine. Here late and at last accompanied home with Mr. J. Houblon and Hill, whom I invited to sup with me on Friday, and so parted and I home to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where very busy all the morning. We met upon a report to the Duke of York of the debts of the Navy, which we finished by three o’clock, and having eat one little bit of meate, I by water before the rest to Whitehall (and they to come after me) because of a Committee for Tangier, where I did my business of stating my accounts perfectly well, and to good liking, and do not discern, but the Duke of Albemarle is my friend in his intentions notwithstanding my general fears. After that to our Navy business, where my fellow officers were called in, and did that also very well, and then broke up, and I home by coach, Tooker with me, and stayed in Lombard Street at Viner’s, and sent home for the plate which my wife and I had a mind to change, and there changed it, about £50 worth, into things more useful, whereby we shall now have a very handsome cupboard of plate. So home to the office, wrote my letters by the post, and to bed.
. It being fast day I stayed at home all day long to set things to rights in my chamber by taking out all my books, and putting my chamber in the same condition it was before the plague. But in the morning doing of it, and knocking up a nail I did bruise my left thumb so as broke a great deal of my flesh off, that it hung by a little. It was a sight frighted my wife, but I put some balsam of Mrs. Turner’s to it, and though in great pain, yet went on with my business, and did it to my full content, setting everything in order, in hopes now that the worst of our fears are over as to the plague for the next year. Interrupted I was by two or three occasions this day to my great vexation, having this the only day I have been able to set apart for this work since my coming to town. At night to supper, weary, and to bed, having had the plasterers and joiners also to do some jobbs.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon to the ’Change, expecting to have received from Mr. Houbland, as he promised me, an assignment upon Viner, for my reward for my getting them the going of their two ships to Tangier, but I find myself much disappointed therein, for I spoke with him and he said nothing of it, but looked coldly, through some disturbance he meets with in our business through Colonel Norwood’s pressing them to carry more goods than will leave room for some of their own. But I shall ease them. Thence to Captain Cocke’s, where Mr. Williamson, Wren, Boldell and Madam Williams, and by and by Lord Brouncker, he having been with the King and Duke upon the water today, to see Greenwich house, and the yacht Castle is building of, and much good discourse. So to Whitehall to see my Lord Sandwich, and then home to my business till night, and then to bed.
. Up, and betimes to Sir Philip Warwicke, who was glad to see me, and very kind. Thence to Colonel Norwood’s lodgings, and there set about Houblons’ business about their ships. Thence to Westminster, to the Exchequer, about my Tangier business to get orders for tallies, and so to the Hall, where the first day of the Terme, and the Hall very full of people, and much more than was expected, considering the plague that hath been. Thence to the ’Change, and to the Sun behind it to dinner with the Lieutenant of the Tower, Colonel Norwood and others, where strange pleasure they seem to take in their wine and meate, and discourse of it with the curiosity and joy that methinks was below men of worthe. Thence home, and there very much angry with my people till I had put all things in good forwardness about my supper for the Houblons, but that being done I was in good humour again, and all things in good order. Anon the five brothers Houblons come and Mr. Hill, and a very good supper we had, and good company and discourse, with great pleasure. My new plate sets off my cupboard very nobly. Here they were till about eleven at night with great pleasure, and a fine sight it is to see these five brothers thus loving one to another, and all industrious merchants. Our subject was principally Mr. Hill’s going for them to Portugal, which was the occasion of this entertainment. They gone, we to bed.
. Up, and to the office. At noon, full of business, to dinner. This day comes first Sir Thomas Harvy after the plague, having been out of town all this while. He was coldly received by us, and he went away before we rose also, to make himself appear yet a man less necessary. After dinner, being full of care and multitude of business, I took coach and my wife with me. I set her down at her mother’s (having first called at my Lord Treasurer’s and there spoke with Sir Ph. Warwicke), and I to the Exchequer about Tangier orders, and so to the Swan and there stayed a little, and so by coach took up my wife, and at the old Exchange bought a muffe, and so home and late at my letters, and so to supper and to bed, being nowadays, for these four or five months, mightily troubled with my snoring in my sleep, and know not how to remedy it.
. Up, and put on a new black cloth suit to an old coat that I make to be in mourning at Court, where they are all, for the King of Spain.2779 To church I, and at noon dined well, and then by water to Whitehall, carrying a captain of the Tower (who desired his freight thither); there I to the Park, and walked two or three turns of the Pell Mell with the company about the King and Duke; the Duke speaking to me a good deal. There met Lord Brouncker and Mr. Coventry, and discoursed about the Navy business; and all of us much at a loss that we yet can hear nothing of Sir Jeremy Smith’s fleet, that went away to the Streights the middle of December, through all the storms that we have had since, that have driven back three or four of them with their masts by the board. Yesterday come out the King’s Declaration of War against the French,2780 but with such mild invitations of both them and the Dutch to come over hither with promise of their protection, that everybody wonders at it. Thence home with my Lord Brouncker for discourse sake, and thence by hackney coach home, and so my wife and I mighty pleasant discourse, supped and to bed. The great wound I had Wednesday last in my thumb having with once dressing by Mrs. Turner’s balsam been perfectly cured, whereas I did not hope to save my nail, whatever else ill it did give me. My wife and I are much thoughtful nowadays about Pall’s coming up in order to a husband.
. Up, and very busy to perform an oathe in finishing my Journal this morning for 7 or 8 days past. Then to several people attending upon business, among others Mr. Grant and the executors of Barlow for the £25 due for the quarter before he died, which I scrupled to pay, being obliged but to pay every half year. Then comes Mr. Caesar, my boy’s lute-master, whom I have not seen since the plague before, but he hath been in Westminster all this while very well; and tells me in the height of it, how bold people there were, to go in sport to one another’s burials; and in spite too, ill people would breathe in the faces (out of their windows) of well people going by. Then to dinner before the ’Change, and so to the ’Change, and then to the tavern to talk with Sir William Warren, and so by coach to several places, among others to my Lord Treasurer’s, there to meet my Lord Sandwich, but missed, and met him at [my] Lord Chancellor’s, and there talked with him about his accounts, and then about Sir G. Carteret, and I find by him that Sir G. Carteret has a worse game to play than my Lord Sandwich, for people are jeering at him, and he cries out of the business of Sir W. Coventry, who strikes at all and do all. Then to my bookseller’s, and then received some books I have new bought, and here late choosing some more to new bind, having resolved to give myself £10 in books, and so home to the office and then home to supper, where Mr. Hill was and supped with us, and good discourse; an excellent person he still appears to me. After supper, and he gone, we to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon to the ’Change, and thence after business dined at the Sheriffe’s [Hooker], being carried by Mr. Lethulier, where to my heart’s content I met with his wife, a most beautiful fat woman. But all the house melancholy upon the sickness of a daughter of the house in childbed, Mr. Vaughan’s lady. So all of them undressed, but however this lady a very fine woman. I had a salute of her, and after dinner some discourse the Sheriffe and I about a parcel of tallow I am buying for the office of him. I away home, and there at the office all the afternoon till late at night, and then away home to supper and to bed. Ill news this night that the plague is increased this week, and in many places else about the town, and at Chatham and elsewhere. This day my wife wanting a chambermaid with much ado got our old little Jane to be found out, who come to see her and hath lived all this while in one place, but is so well that we will not desire her removal, but are mighty glad to see the poor wench, who is very well and do well.
. This morning called up by Mr. Hill, who, my wife thought, had been come to be her Valentine; she, it seems, having drawn him last night, but it proved not. However, calling him up to our bedside, my wife challenged him. I up, and made myself ready, and so with him by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s by appointment to deliver Mr. Howe’s accounts to my Lord. Which done, my Lord did give me hearty and large studied thanks for all my kindness to him and care of him and his business. I after profession of all duty to his Lordship took occasion to bemoane myself that I should fall into such a difficulty about Sir G. Carteret, as not to be for him, but I must be against Sir W. Coventry, and therefore desired to be neutrall, which my Lord approved and confessed reasonable, but desired me to befriend him privately. Having done in private with my Lord I brought Mr. Hill to kisse his hands, to whom my Lord professed great respect upon my score. My Lord being gone, I took Mr. Hill to my Lord Chancellor’s new house that is building, and went with trouble up to the top of it, and there is there the noblest prospect that ever I saw in my life, Greenwich being nothing to it; and in everything is a beautiful house, and most strongly built in every respect; and as if, as it hath, it had the Chancellor for its master. Thence with him to his paynter, Mr. Hales, who is drawing his picture, which will be mighty like him, and pleased me so, that I am resolved presently to have my wife’s and mine done by him, he having a very masterly hand. So with mighty satisfaction to the ’Change and thence home, and after dinner abroad, taking Mrs. Mary Batelier with us, who was just come to see my wife, and they set me down at my Lord Treasurer’s, and themselves went with the coach into the fields to take the air. I stayed a meeting of the Duke of York’s, and the officers of the Navy and Ordnance. My Lord Treasurer lying in bed of the gout. Our business was discourse of the straits of the Navy for want of money, but after long discourse as much out of order as ordinary people’s, we come to no issue, nor any money promised, or like to be had, and yet the worke must be done. Here I perceive Sir G. Carteret had prepared himself to answer a choque of Sir W. Coventry, by offering of himself to show all he had paid, and what is unpaid, and what moneys and assignments he hath in his hands, which, if he makes good, was the best thing he ever did say in his life, and the best timed, for else it must have fallen very foule on him. The meeting done I away, my wife and they being come back and staying for me at the gate. But, Lord! to see how afeard I was that Sir W. Coventry should have spyed me once whispering with Sir G. Carteret, though not intended by me, but only Sir G. Carteret come to me and I could not avoid it. So home, they set me down at the ’Change, and I to the Crown, where my Lord Brouncker was come and several of the Virtuosi, and after a small supper and but little good discourse I with Sir W. Batten (who was brought thither with my Lord Brouncker) home, where I find my wife gone to Mrs. Mercer’s to be merry, but presently come in with Mrs. Knipp, who, it seems, is in town, and was gone thither with my wife and Mercer to dance, and after eating a little supper went thither again to spend the whole night there, being W. Howe there, at whose chamber they are, and Lawd Crisp by chance. I to bed.
. Up, and my wife not come home all night. To the office, where sat all the morning. At noon to Starky’s, a great cook in Austin Friars, invited by Colonel Atkins, and a good dinner for Colonel Norwood and his friends, among others Sir Edward Spragg and others, but ill attendance. Before dined, called on by my wife in a coach, and so I took leave, and then with her and Knipp and Mercer (Mr. Hunt newly come out of the country being there also come to see us) to Mr. Hales, the paynter’s, having set down Mr. Hunt by the way. Here Mr. Hales2781 begun my wife in the posture we saw one of my Lady Peters, like a St. Katharine.2782 While he painted, Knipp, and Mercer, and I, sang; and by and by comes Mrs. Pierce, with my name in her bosom for her Valentine, which will cost me money. But strange how like his very first dead colouring is, that it did me good to see it, and pleases me mightily, and I believe will be a noble picture. Thence with them all as far as Fleet Street, and there set Mercer and Knipp down, and we home. I to the office, whither the Houblons come telling me of a little new trouble from Norwood about their ship, which troubles me, though without reason. So late home to supper and to bed. We hear this night of Sir Jeremy Smith, that he and his fleet have been seen at Malaga; which is good news.
. Up betimes, and by appointment to the Exchange, where I met Messrs. Houblons, and took them up in my coach and carried them to Charing Crosse, where they to Colonel Norwood to see how they can settle matters with him, I having informed them by the way with advice to be easy with him, for he may hereafter do us service, and they and I are like to understand one another to very good purpose. I to my Lord Sandwich, and there alone with him to talk of his affairs, and particularly of his prize goods, wherein I find he is wearied with being troubled, and gives over the care of it to let it come to what it will, having the King’s release for the dividend made, and for the rest he thinks himself safe from being proved to have anything more. Thence to the Exchequer, and so by coach to the ’Change, Mr. Moore with me, who tells me very odde passages of the indiscretion of my Lord in the management of his family, of his carelessness, etc., which troubles me, but makes me rejoice with all my heart of my being rid of the bond of £1,000, for that would have been a cruel blow to me. With Moore to the Coffee-House,2783 the first time I have been there, where very full, and company it seems hath been there all the plague time. So to the ’Change, and then home to dinner, and after dinner to settle accounts with him for my Lord, and so evened with him to this day. Then to the office, and out with Sir W. Warren for discourse by coach to Whitehall, thinking to have spoke with Sir W. Coventry, but did not, and to see the Queen, but she comes but to Hampton Court tonight. Back to my office and there late, and so home to supper and bed. I walked a good while tonight with Mr. Hater in the garden, talking about a husband for my sister, and reckoning up all our clerks about us, none of which he thinks fit for her and her portion. At last I thought of young Gawden, and will think of it again.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. Late to dinner, and then to the office again, and there busy till past twelve at night, and so home to supper and to bed. We have news of Sir Jeremy Smith’s being very well with his fleet at Cales.2784
. Lay long in bed discoursing with pleasure with my wife, among other things about Pall’s coming up, for she must be here a little to be fashioned, and my wife hath a mind to go down for her, which I am not much against, and so I rose and to my chamber to settle several things. At noon comes my uncle Wight to dinner, and brings with him Mrs. Wight, sad company to me, nor was I much pleased with it, only I must show respect to my uncle. After dinner they gone, and it being a brave day, I walked to Whitehall, where the Queen and ladies are all come: I saw some few of them, but not the Queen, nor any of the great beauties. I endeavoured to have seen my Lord Hinchingbrooke, who come to town yesterday, but I could not. Met with Creed and walked with him a turne or two in the Park, but without much content, having now designs of getting money in my head, which allow me not the leisure I used to have with him, besides an odde story lately told of him for a great truth, of his endeavouring to lie with a woman at Oxford, and her crying out saved her; and this being publicly known, do a little make me hate him. Thence took coach, and calling by the way at my bookseller’s for a booke2785 writ about twenty years ago in prophecy of this year coming on, 1666, explaining it to be the mark of the beast, I home, and there fell to reading, and then to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, but he was gone out. So I to Whitehall, and there waited on the Duke of York with some of the rest of our brethren, and thence back again to my Lord’s, to see my Lord Hinchingbroke, which I did, and I am mightily out of countenance in my great expectation of him by others’ report, though he is indeed a pretty gentleman, yet nothing what I took him for, methinks, either as to person or discourse discovered to me, but I must try him more before I go too far in censuring. Hence to the Exchequer from office to office, to set my business of my tallies in doing, and there all the morning. So at noon by coach to St. Paul’s Church-yarde to my Bookseller’s, and there bespoke a few more books to bring all I have lately bought to £10. Here I am told for certain, what I have heard once or twice already, of a Jew in town, that in the name of the rest do offer to give any man £10 to be paid £100, if a certain person now at Smyrna be within these two years owned by all the Princes of the East, and particularly the grand Signor as the King of the world, in the same manner we do the King of England here, and that this man is the true Messiah. One named a friend of his that had received ten pieces in gold upon this score, and says that the Jew hath disposed of £1,100 in this manner, which is very strange; and certainly this year of 1666 will be a year of great action; but what the consequences of it will be, God knows! Thence to the ’Change, and from my stationer’s thereabouts carried home by coach two books of Ogilby’s, his Aesop and Coronation, which fell to my lot at his lottery.2786 Cost me £4 besides the binding. So home. I find my wife gone out to Hales, her paynter’s, and I after a little dinner do follow her, and there do find him at worke, and with great content I do see it will be a very brave picture. Left her there, and I to my Lord Treasurer’s, where Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes met me, and before my Lord Treasurer and Duke of Albemarle the state of our Navy debts were laid open, being very great, and their want of money to answer them openly professed, there being but £1,500,000 to answer a certaine expense and debt of £2,300,000. Thence walked with Fenn down to Whitehall, and there saw the Queen at cards with many ladies, but none of our beauties were there. But glad I was to see the Queen so well, who looks prettily; and methinks hath more life than before, since it is confessed of all that she miscarryed lately; Dr. Clerke telling me yesterday at Whitehall that he had the membranes and other vessels in his hands which she voided, and were perfect as ever woman’s was that bore a child. Thence hoping to find my Lord Sandwich, away by coach to my Lord Chancellor’s, but missed him, and so home and to office, and then to supper and my Journal, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office; where, among other businesses, Mr. Evelyn’s proposition about public Infirmaries was read and agreed on, he being there: and at noon I took him home to dinner, being desirous of keeping my acquaintance with him; and a most excellent humoured man I still find him, and mighty knowing. After dinner I took him by coach to Whitehall, and there he and I parted, and I to my Lord Sandwich’s, where coming and bolting into the dining room, I there found Captain Ferrers going to christen a child of his born yesterday, and I come just pat to be a godfather, along with my Lord Hinchingbrooke, and Madam Pierce, my Valentine, which for that reason I was pretty well contented with, though a little vexed to see myself so beset with people to spend me money, as she of a Valentine and little Mrs. Tooker, who is come to my house this day from Greenwich, and will cost me 20s., my wife going out with her this afternoon, and now this christening. Well, by and by the child is brought and christened Katharine, and I this day on this occasion drank a glasse of wine, which I have not professedly done these two years, I think, but a little in the time of the sickness. After that done, and gone and kissed the mother in bed, I away to Westminster Hall, and there hear that Mrs. Lane is come to town. So I stayed loitering up and down till anon she comes and agreed to meet at Swayn’s, and there I went anon, and she come, but stayed but little, the place not being private. I have not seen her since before the plague. So thence parted and rencontrais à her last logis, and in the place did what I tenais a mind pour ferais con her. At last she desired to borrow money of me, £5, and would pawn gold with me for it, which I accepted and promised in a day or two to supply her. So away home to the office, and thence home, where little Mrs. Tooker stayed all night with us, and a pretty child she is, and happens to be niece to my beauty that is dead, that lived at the Jackanapes, in Cheapside. So to bed, a little troubled that I have been at two houses this afternoon with Mrs. Lane that were formerly shut up of the plague.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall by his coach, by the way talking of my brother John to get a spiritual promotion for him, which I am now to looke after, for as much as he is shortly to be Master in Arts, and writes me this weeke a Latin letter that he is to go into orders this Lent. There to the Duke’s chamber, and find our fellows discoursing there on our business, so I was sorry to come late, but no hurte was done thereby. Here the Duke, among other things, did bring out a book of great antiquity of some of the customs of the Navy, about 100 years since, which he did lend us to read and deliver him back again. Thence I to the Exchequer, and there did strike my tallies for a quarter for Tangier and carried them home with me, and thence to Trinity-house, being invited to an Elder Brother’s feast; and there met and sat by Mr. Prin, and had good discourse about the privileges of Parliament, which, he says, are few to the Commons’ House, and those not examinable by them, but only by the House of Lords. Thence with my Lord Brouncker to Gresham College, the first time after the sickness that I was there, and the second time any met. And here a good lecture of Mr. Hooke’s about the trade of felt-making, very pretty. And anon alone with me about the art of drawing pictures by Prince Rupert’s rule and machine, and another of Dr. Wren’s;2787 but he says nothing do like squares, or, which is the best in the world, like a dark roome2788 which pleased me mightily. Thence with Povy home to my house, and there late settling accounts with him, which was very troublesome to me, and he gone, found Mr. Hill below, who sat with me till late talking, and so away, and we to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner and thence by coach with my wife for air principally for her. I alone stopped at Hales’s and there mightily am pleased with my wife’s picture that is begun there, and with Mr. Hill’s, though I must [own] I am not more pleased with it now the face is finished than I was when I saw it the second time of sitting. Thence to my Lord Sandwich’s, but he not within, but goes tomorrow. My wife to Mrs. Hunt’s, who is lately come to town and grown mighty fat. I called her there, and so home and late at the office, and so home to supper and to bed. We are much troubled that the sickness in general (the town being so full of people) should be but three, and yet of the particular disease of the plague there should be ten increase.
. Up betimes, and out of doors by 6 of the clock, and walked (W. Howe with me) to my Lord Sandwich’s, who did lie the last night at his house in Lincoln’s Inne Fields. It being fine walking in the morning, and the streets full of people again. There I stayed, and the house full of people come to take leave of my Lord, who this day goes out of town upon his embassy towards Spain. And I was glad to find Sir W. Coventry to come, though I know it is only a piece of courtship. I had much discourse with my Lord, he telling me how fully he leaves the King his friend and the large discourse he had with him the other day, and how he desired to have the business of the prizes examined before he went, and that he yielded to it, and it is done as far as it concerns himself to the full, and the Lords Commissioners for prizes did reprehend all the informers in what related to his Lordship, which I am glad of in many respects. But we could not make an end of discourse, so I promised to waite upon [him] on Sunday at Cranborne, and took leave and away hence to Mr. Hales’s with Mr. Hill and two of the Houblons, who come thither to speak with me, and saw my wife’s picture, which pleases me well, but Mr. Hill’s picture never a whit so well as it did before it was finished, which troubled me, and I begin to doubt the picture of my Lady Peters my wife takes her posture from, and which is an excellent picture, is not of his making, it is so master-like. I set them down at the ’Change and I home to the office, and at noon dined at home and to the office again. Anon comes Mrs. Knipp to see my wife, who is gone out, so I fain to entertain her, and took her out by coach to look my wife at Mrs. Pierce’s and Unthanke’s, but find her not. So back again, and then my wife comes home, having been buying of things, and at home I spent all the night talking with this baggage, and teaching her my song of “Beauty retire,” which she sings and makes go most rarely, and a very fine song it seems to be. She also entertained me with repeating many of her own and others’ parts of the playhouse, which she do most excellently; and tells me the whole practices of the playhouse and players, and is in every respect most excellent company. So I supped, and was merry at home all the evening, and the rather it being my birthday, 33 years, for which God be praised that I am in so good a condition of healthe and estate, and everything else as I am, beyond expectation, in all. So she to Mrs. Turner’s to lie, and we to bed. Mightily pleased to find myself in condition to have these people come about me and to be able to entertain them, and have the pleasure of their qualities, than which no man can have more in the world.
. All the morning at the office till past three o’clock. At that houre home and eat a bit alone, my wife being gone out. So abroad by coach with Mr. Hill, who stayed for me to speake about business, and he and I to Hales’s, where I find my wife and her woman, and Pierce and Knipp, and there sung and was mighty merry, and I joyed myself in it; but vexed at first to find my wife’s picture not so like as I expected; but it was only his having finished one part, and not another, of the face; but, before I went, I was satisfied it will be an excellent picture. Here we had ale and cakes and mighty merry, and sung my song, which she [Knipp] now sings bravely, and makes me proud of myself. Thence left my wife to go home with Mrs. Pierce, while I home to the office, and there pretty late, and to bed, after fitting myself for tomorrow’s journey.
. My wife up between three and four of the clock in the morning to dress herself, and I about five, and were all ready to take coach, she and I and Mercer, a little past five, but, to our trouble, the coach did not come till six. Then with our coach of four horses I hire on purpose, and Leshmore to ride by, we through the City to Branford and so to Windsor, Captain Ferrers overtaking us at Kensington, being to go with us, and here drank, and so through, making no stay, to Cranborne,2789 about eleven o’clock, and found my Lord and the ladies at a sermon in the house; which being ended we to them, and all the company glad to see us, and mighty merry to dinner. Here was my Lord, and Lord Hinchingbroke, and Mr. Sidney,2790 Sir Charles Herbert,2791 and Mr. Carteret, my Lady Carteret, my Lady Jemimah, and Lady Slaning.2792 After dinner to talk to and again, and then to walke in the Park, my Lord and I alone, talking upon these heads; first, he has left his business of the prizes as well as is possible for him, having cleared himself before the Commissioners by the King’s commands, so that nothing or little is to be feared from that point, he goes fully assured, he tells me, of the King’s favour. That upon occasion I may know, I desired to know, his friends I may trust to, he tells me, but that he is not yet in England, but continues this summer in Ireland, my Lord Orrery is his father almost in affection. He tells me my Lord of Suffolk, Lord Arlington, Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Treasurer, Mr. Attorney Montagu, Sir Thomas Clifford in the House of Commons, Sir G. Carteret, and some others I cannot presently remember, are friends that I may rely on for him. He tells me my Lord Chancellor seems his very good friend, but doubts that he may not think him so much a servant of the Duke of York’s as he would have him, and indeed my Lord tells me he hath lately made it his business to be seen studious of the King’s favour, and not of the Duke’s, and by the King will stand or fall, for factions there are, as he tells me, and God knows how high they may come. The Duke of Albemarle’s post is so great, having had the name of bringing in the King, that he is like to stand, or, if it were not for him, God knows in what troubles we might be from some private faction, if an army could be got into another hand, which God forbid! It is believed that though Mr. Coventry be in appearance so great against the Chancellor, yet that there is a good understanding between the Duke and him. He dreads the issue of this year, and fears there will be some very great revolutions before his coming back again. He doubts it is needful for him to have a pardon for his last year’s actions, all which he did without commission, and at most but the King’s private single word for that of Bergen; but he dares not ask it at this time, lest it should make them think that there is something more in it than yet they know; and if it should be denied, it would be of very ill consequence. He says also, if it should in Parliament be enquired into the selling of Dunkirke (though the Chancellor was the man that would have it sold to France, saying the King of Spain had no money to give for it); yet he will be found to have been the greatest adviser of it; which he is a little apprehensive may be called upon this Parliament. He told me it would not be necessary for him to tell me his debts, because he thinks I know them so well. He tells me, that for the match propounded of Mrs. Mallett for my Lord Hinchingbroke, it hath been lately off, and now her friends bring it on again, and an overture hath been made to him by a servant of hers, to compass the thing without consent of friends, she herself having a respect to my Lord’s family, but my Lord will not listen to it but in a way of honour. The Duke hath for this weeke or two been very kind to him, more than lately; and so others, which he thinks is a good sign of faire weather again. He says the Archbishop of Canterbury hath been very kind to him, and hath plainly said to him that he and all the world knows the difference between his judgment and brains and the Duke of Albemarle’s, and then calls my Lady Duchess the veryest slut and drudge and the foulest worde that can be spoke of a woman almost. My Lord having walked an houre with me talking thus and going in, and my Lady Carteret not suffering me to go back again tonight, my Lord to walke again with me about some of this and other discourse, and then in a-doors and to talk with all and with my Lady Carteret, and I with the young ladies and gentlemen, who played on the guittar, and mighty merry, and anon to supper, and then my Lord going away to write, the young gentlemen to flinging of cushions, and other mad sports; at this late till towards twelve at night, and then being sleepy, I and my wife in a passage-room to bed, and slept not very well because of noise.
. Called up about five in the morning, and my Lord up, and took leave, a little after six, very kindly of me and the whole company. Then I in, and my wife up and to visit my Lady Slaving in her bed, and there sat three hours, with Lady Jemimah with us, talking and laughing, and by and by my Lady Carteret comes, and she and I to talk, I glad to please her in discourse of Sir G. Carteret, that all will do well with him, and she is much pleased, he having had great annoyance and fears about his well doing, and I fear hath doubted that I have not been a friend to him, but cries out against my Lady Castlemaine, that makes the King neglect his business and seems much to fear that all will go to rack, and I fear with great reason; exclaims against the Duke of Albemarle, and more the Duchess for a filthy woman, as indeed she is. Here stayed till 9 o’clock almost, and then took coach with so much love and kindness from my Lady Carteret, Lady Jemimah, and Lady Slaving, that it joys my heart, and when I consider the manner of my going hither, with a coach and four horses and servants and a woman with us, and coming hither being so much made of, and used with that state, and then going to Windsor and being shown all that we were there, and had wherewith to give everybody something for their pains, and then going home, and all in fine weather and no fears nor cares upon me, I do think myself obliged to think myself happy, and do look upon myself at this time in the happiest occasion a man can be, and whereas we take pains in expectation of future comfort and ease, I have taught myself to reflect upon myself at present as happy, and enjoy myself in that consideration, and not only please myself with thoughts of future wealth and forget the pleasure we at present enjoy. So took coach and to Windsor, to the Garter, and thither sent for Dr. Childe;2793 who come to us, and carried us to St. George’s Chapel; and there placed us among the Knights’ stalls (and pretty the observation, that no man, but a woman may sit in a Knight’s place, where any brass-plates are set); and hither come cushions to us, and a young singing-boy to bring us a copy of the anthem to be sung. And here, for our sakes, had this anthem and the great service sung extraordinary, only to entertain us. It is a noble place indeed, and a good Choir of voices. Great bowing by all the people, the poor Knights particularly, to the Alter. After prayers, we to see the plate of the chapel, and the robes of Knights, and a man to show us the banners of the several Knights in being, which hang up over the stalls. And so to other discourse very pretty, about the Order. Was shown where the late [King] is buried,2794 and King Henry the Eighth, and my Lady [Jane] Seymour. This being done, to the King’s house, and to observe the neatness and contrivance of the house and gates: it is the most romantic castle that is in the world. But, Lord! the prospect that is in the balcone in the Queen’s lodgings, and the terrace and walk, are strange things to consider, being the best in the world, sure. Infinitely satisfied I and my wife with all this, she being in all points mightily pleased too, which added to my pleasure; and so giving a great deal of money to this and that man and woman, we to our tavern, and there dined, the Doctor with us; and so took coach and away to Eton, the Doctor with me. Before we went to Chapel this morning, Kate Joyce, in a stagecoach going toward London, called to me. I went to her and saluted her, but could not get her to stay with us, having company. At Eton I left my wife in the coach, and he and I to the College, and there find all mighty fine. The school good, and the custom pretty of boys cutting their names in the struts of the window when they go to Cambridge, by which many a one hath lived to see himself Provost and Fellow, that had his name in the window standing. To the Hall, and there find the boys’ verses, “De Peste;” it being their custom to make verses at Shrovetide. I read several, and very good ones they were, and better, I think, than ever I made when I was a boy, and in rolls as long and longer than the whole Hall, by much. Here is a picture of Venice hung up given, and a monument made of Sir H. Wotton’s giving it to the College. Thence to the porter’s, in the absence of the butler, and did drink of the College beer, which is very good; and went into the back fields to see the scholars play. And so to the chapel, and there saw, among other things, Sir H. Wotton’s stone with this Epitaph:
Hic jacet primus hujus sententiæ Author:— Disputandi pruritus fit ecclesiæ scabies.
But unfortunately the word “Author” was wrong writ, and now so basely altered that it disgraces the stone. Thence took leave of the Doctor, and so took coach, and finely, but sleepy, away home, and got thither about eight at night, and after a little at my office, I to bed; and an houre after, was waked with my wife’s quarrelling with Mercer, at which I was angry, and my wife and I fell out. But with much ado to sleep again, I beginning to practise more temper, and to give her her way.
. Up, and after a harsh word or two my wife and I good friends, and so up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon late to dinner, my wife gone out to Hales’s about her picture, and, after dinner, I after her, and do mightily like her picture, and think it will be as good as my Lady Peters’s. So home mightily pleased, and there late at business and set down my three last days’ journals, and so to bed, overjoyed to think of the pleasure of the last Sunday and yesterday, and my ability to bear the charge of these pleasures, and with profit too, by obliging my Lord, and reconciling Sir George Carteret’s family.
. Up, and after doing a little business at my office I walked, it being a most curious dry and cold morning, to Whitehall, and there I went into the Park, and meeting Sir Ph. Warwicke took a turne with him in the Pell Mall, talking of the melancholy posture of affairs, where everybody is snarling one at another, and all things put together looke ominously. This new Act too putting us out of a power of raising money. So that he fears as I do, but is fearful of enlarging in that discourse of an ill condition in everything, and the State and all. We appointed another time to meet to talk of the business of the Navy alone seriously, and so parted, and I to Whitehall, and there we did our business with the Duke of York, and so parted, and walked to Westminster Hall, where I stayed talking with Mrs. Michell and Howlett long and her daughter, which is become a mighty pretty woman, and thence going out of the Hall was called to by Mrs. Martin, so I went to her and bought two bands, and so parted, and by and by met at her chamber, and there did what I would, and so away home and there find Mrs. Knipp, and we dined together, she the pleasantest company in the world. After dinner I did give my wife money to lay out on Knipp, 20s., and I abroad to Whitehall to visit Colonel Norwood, and then Sir G. Carteret, with whom I have brought myself right again, and he very open to me; is very melancholy, and matters, I fear, go down with him, but he seems most afeard of a general catastrophe to the whole kingdom, and thinks, as I fear, that all things will come to nothing. Thence to the Palace Yard, to the Swan, and there stayed till it was dark, and then to Mrs. Lane’s, and there lent her £5 upon £4 01s. in gold. And then did what I would with her, and I perceive she is come to be very bad, and offers anything, that it is dangerous to have to do with her, nor will I see [her] any more a good while. Thence by coach home and to the office, where a while, and then betimes to bed by ten o’clock, sooner than I have done many a day. And thus ends this month, with my mind full of resolution to apply myself better from this time forward to my business than I have done these six or eight days, visibly to my prejudice both in quiet of mind and setting backward of my business, that I cannot give a good account of it as I ought to do.
March 1665–66
. Up, and to the office and there all the morning sitting and at noon to dinner with my Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn at the White Horse in Lombard Street, where, God forgive us! good sport with Captain Cocke’s having his maid sick of the plague a day or two ago and sent to the pest house, where she now is, but he will not say anything but that she is well. But blessed be God! a good Bill this week we have; being but 237 in all, and 42 of the plague, and of them but six in the City: though my Lord Brouncker says, that these six are most of them in new parishes where they were not the last week. Here was with us also Mr. Williamson, who the more I know, the more I honour. Hence I slipt after dinner without notice home and there close to my business at my office till twelve at night, having with great comfort returned to my business by some fresh vowes in addition to my former, and-more severe, and a great joy it is to me to see myself in a good disposition to business. So home to supper and to my Journal and to bed.
. Up, as I have of late resolved before 7 in the morning and to the office, where all the morning, among other things setting my wife and Mercer with much pleasure to worke upon the ruling of some paper for the making of books for pursers, which will require a great deal of worke and they will earn a good deal of money by it, the hopes of which makes them worke mighty hard. At noon dined and to the office again, and about 4 o’clock took coach and to my Lord Treasurer’s and thence to Sir Philip Warwicke’s new house by appointment, there to spend an houre in talking and we were together above an hour, and very good discourse about the state of the King as to money, and particularly in the point of the Navy. He endeavours hard to come to a good understanding of Sir G. Carteret’s accounts, and by his discourse I find Sir G. Carteret must be brought to it, and what a madman he is that he do not do it of himself, for the King expects the Parliament will call upon him for his promise of giving an account of the money, and he will be ready for it, which cannot be, I am sure, without Sir G. Carteret’s accounts be better understood than they are. He seems to have a great esteem of me and my opinion and thoughts of things. After we had spent an houre thus discoursing and vexed that we do but grope so in the dark as we do, because the people, that should enlighten us, do not help us, we resolved fitting some things for another meeting, and so broke up. He showed me his house, which is yet all unhung, but will be a very noble house indeed. Thence by coach calling at my bookseller’s and carried home £10 worth of books, all, I hope, I shall buy a great while. There by appointment find Mr. Hill come to sup and take his last leave of me, and by and by in comes Mr. James Houbland to bear us company, a man I love mightily, and will not lose his acquaintance. He told me in my ear this night what he and his brothers have resolved to give me, which is £200, for helping them out with two or three ships. A good sum and that which I did believe they would give me, and I did expect little less. Here we talked and very good company till late, and then took leave of one another, and indeed I am heartily sorry for Mr. Hill’s leaving us, for he is a very worthy gentleman, as most I know. God give him a good voyage and success in his business. Thus we parted and my wife and I to bed, heavy for the losse of our friend.
. All the morning at the office, at noon to the Old James, being sent for, and there dined with Sir William Rider, Cutler, and others, to make an end with two Scots Maisters about the freight of two ships of my Lord Rutherford’s. After a small dinner and a little discourse I away to the Crown behind the Exchange to Sir W. Penn, Captain Cocke and Fen, about getting a bill of Cocke’s paid to Penn, in part for the East India goods he sold us. Here Sir W. Penn did give me the reason in my ear of his importunity for money, for that he is now to marry his daughter. God send her better fortune than her father deserves I should wish him for a false rogue. Thence by coach to Hales’s, and there saw my wife sit; and I do like her picture mightily, and very like it will be, and a brave piece of work. But he do complain that her nose hath cost him as much work as another’s face, and he hath done it finely indeed. Thence home and late at the office, and then to bed.
. And all day at my Tangier and private accounts, having neglected them since Christmas, which I hope I shall never do again; for I find the inconvenience of it, it being ten times the labour to remember and settle things. But I thank God I did it at last, and brought them all fine and right; and I am, I think, by all appears to me (and I am sure I cannot be £10 wrong), worth above £4,600, for which the Lord be praised! being the biggest sum I ever was worth yet.
. I was at it till past two o’clock on Monday morning, and then read my vowes, and to bed with great joy and content that I have brought my things to so good a settlement, and now having my mind fixed to follow my business again and sensible of Sir W. Coventry’s jealousies, I doubt, concerning me, partly my siding with Sir G. Carteret, and partly that indeed I have been silent in my business of the office a great while, and given but little account of myself and least of all to him, having not made him one visit since he came to town from Oxford, I am resolved to fall hard to it again, and fetch up the time and interest I have lost or am in a fair way of doing it. Up about eight o’clock, being called up by several people, among others by Mr. Moone, with whom I went to Lombard Street to Colvill, and so back again and in my chamber he and I did end all our businesses together of accounts for money upon bills of Exchange, and am pleased to find myself reputed a man of business and method, as he do give me out to be. To the ’Change at noon and so home to dinner. News for certain of the King of Denmark’s declaring for the Dutch, and resolution to assist them. To the office, and there all the afternoon. In the evening come Mr. James and brother Houblons to agree upon share parties for their ships, and did acquaint me that they had paid my messenger, whom I sent this afternoon for it, £200 for my friendship in the business, which pleases me mightily. They being gone I forth late to Sir R. Viner’s to take a receipt of them for the £200 lodged for me there with them, and so back home, and after supper to bed.
. Up betimes and did much business before office time. Then to the office and there till noon and so home to dinner and to the office again till night. In the evening being at Sir W. Batten’s, stepped in (for I have not used to go thither a good while), I find my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams, and they would of their own accord, though I had never obliged them (nor my wife neither) with one visit for many of theirs, go see my house and my wife; which I showed them and made them welcome with wine and China oranges (now a great rarity since the war, none to be had). There being also Captain Cocke and Mrs. Turner, who had never been in my house since I come to the office before, and Mrs. Carcasse, wife of Mr. Carcasses. My house happened to be mighty clean, and did me great honour, and they mightily pleased with it. They gone I to the office and did some business, and then home to supper and to bed. My mind troubled through a doubtfulness of my having incurred Sir W. Coventry’s displeasure by not having waited on him since his coming to town, which is a mighty faulte and that I can bear the fear of the bad effects of till I have been with him, which shall be tomorrow, God willing. So to bed.
. Up betimes, and to St. James’s, thinking Mr. Coventry had lain there; but he do not, but at Whitehall; so thither I went and had as good a time as heart could wish, and after an houre in his chamber about public business he and I walked up, and the Duke being gone abroad we walked an houre in the Matted Gallery: he of himself begun to discourse of the unhappy differences between him and my Lord of Sandwich, and from the beginning to the end did run through all passages wherein my Lord hath, at any time, gathered any dissatisfaction, and cleared himself to me most honourably; and in truth, I do believe he do as he says. I did afterwards purge myself of all partiality in the business of Sir G. Carteret (whose story Sir W. Coventry did also run over), that I do mind the King’s interest, notwithstanding my relation to him; all which he declares he firmly believes, and assures me he hath the same kindness and opinion of me as ever. And when I said I was jealous of myself, that having now come to such an income as I am, by his favour, I should not be found to do as much service as might deserve it; he did assure me, he thinks it not too much for me, but thinks I deserve it as much as any man in England. All this discourse did cheer my heart, and sets me right again, after a good deal of melancholy, out of fears of his disinclination to me, upon the differences with my Lord Sandwich and Sir G. Carteret; but I am satisfied throughly, and so went away quite another man, and by the grace of God will never lose it again by my folly in not visiting and writing to him, as I used heretofore to do. Thence by coach to the Temple, and it being a holyday, a fast-day, there ’light, and took water, being invited, and down to Greenwich, to Captain Cocke’s, where dined, he and Lord Brouncker, and Matt. Wren,2795 Boltele, and Major Cooper, who is also a very pretty companion; but they all drink hard, and, after dinner, to gaming at cards. So I provoked my Lord to be gone, and he and I to Mr. Cottle’s and met Mrs. Williams (without whom he cannot stir out of doors) and there took coach and away home. They carry me to London and set me down at the Temple, where my mind changed and I home, and to writing and heare my boy play on the lute, and a turne with my wife pleasantly in the garden by moonshine, my heart being in great peace, and so home to supper and to bed. The King and Duke are to go tomorrow to Audly End, in order to the seeing and buying of it of my Lord Suffolk.2796
. Up betimes and to the office, where all the morning sitting and did discover three or four fresh instances of Sir W. Penn’s old cheating dissembling tricks, he being as false a fellow as ever was born. Thence with Sir. W. Batten and Lord Brouncker to the White Horse in Lombard Street to dine with Captain Cocke, upon particular business of canvas to buy for the King, and here by chance I saw the mistress of the house I have heard much of, and a very pretty woman she is indeed and her husband the simplest looked fellow and old that ever I saw. After dinner I took coach and away to Hales’s, where my wife is sitting; and, indeed, her face and necke, which are now finished, do so please me that I am not myself almost, nor was not all the night after in writing of my letters, in consideration of the fine picture that I shall be master of. Thence home and to the office, where very late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and being ready, to the Cockpit to make a visit to the Duke of Albemarle, and to my great joy find him the same man to me that [he has been] heretofore, which I was in great doubt of, through my negligence in not visiting of him a great while; and having now set all to rights there, I am in mighty ease in my mind and I think shall never suffer matters to run so far backward again as I have done of late, with reference to my neglecting him and Sir W. Coventry. Thence by water down to Deptford, where I met my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Batten by agreement, and to measuring Mr. Castle’s new third-rate ship, which is to be called the Defiance.2797 And here I had my end in saving the King some money and getting myself some experience in knowing how they do measure ships. Thence I left them and walked to Redriffe, and there taking water was overtaken by them in their boat, and so they would have me in with them to Castle’s house, where my Lady Batten and Madam Williams were, and there dined and a deal of doings. I had a good dinner and counterfeit mirthe and pleasure with them, but had but little, thinking how I neglected my business. Anon, all home to Sir W. Batten’s and there Mrs. Knipp coming we did spend the evening together very merry. She and I singing, and, God forgive me! I do still see that my nature is not to be quite conquered, but will esteem pleasure above all things, though yet in the middle of it, it has reluctances after my business, which is neglected by my following my pleasure. However music and women I cannot but give way to, whatever my business is. They being gone I to the office a while and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and there busy sitting till noon. I find at home Mrs. Pierce and Knipp come to dine with me. We were mighty merry; and, after dinner, I carried them and my wife out by coach to the New Exchange, and there I did give my valentine, Mrs. Pierce, a dozen pair of gloves, and a pair of silke stockings, and Knipp for company’s sake, though my wife had, by my consent, laid out 20s. upon her the other day, six pair of gloves. Thence to Hales’s to have seen our pictures, but could not get in, he being abroad, and so to the Cakehouse hard by, and there sat in the coach with great pleasure, and eat some fine cakes and so carried them to Pierce’s and away home. It is a mighty fine witty boy, Mrs. Pierce’s little boy. Thence home and to the office, where late writing letters and leaving a great deal to do on Monday, I home to supper and to bed. The truth is, I do indulge myself a little the more in pleasure, knowing that this is the proper age of my life to do it; and out of my observation that most men that do thrive in the world, do forget to take pleasure during the time that they are getting their estate, but reserve that till they have got one, and then it is too late for them to enjoy it with any pleasure.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, there met Mr. Coventry coming out, going along with the Commissioners of the Ordnance to the water side to take barge, they being to go down to the Hope. I returned with them as far as the Tower in their barge speaking with Sir W. Coventry and so home and to church, and at noon dined and then to my chamber, where with great pleasure about one business or other till late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and called on by abundance of people about business, and then away by water to Westminster, and there to the Exchequer about some business, and thence by coach calling at several places, to the Old Exchange, and there did much business, and so homeward and bought a silver salt for my ordinary table to use, and so home to dinner, and after dinner comes my uncle and aunt Wight, the latter I have not seen since the plague; a silly, froward, ugly woman she is. We made mighty much of them, and she talks mightily of her fear of the sickness, and so a deal of tittle tattle and I left them and to my office where late, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I hear my Uncle Talbot Pepys died the last week, and was buried. All the news now is, that Sir Jeremy Smith is at Cales2798 with his fleet, and Mings in the Elve.2799 The King is come this noon to town from Audly End, with the Duke of York and a fine train of gentlemen.
. Up betimes, and to the office, where busy sitting all the morning, and I begin to find a little convenience by holding up my head to Sir W. Penn, for he is come to be more supple. At noon to dinner, and then to the office again, where mighty business, doing a great deal till midnight and then home to supper and to bed. The plague increased this week 29 from 28, though the total fallen from 238 to 207, which do never a whit please me.
. Up, and met by 6 o’clock in my chamber Mr. Povy (from Whitehall) about evening reckonings between him and me, on our Tangier business, and at it hard till toward eight o’clock, and he then carried me in his chariot to Whitehall, where by and by my fellow officers met me, and we had a meeting before the Duke. Thence with my Lord Brouncker towards London, and in our way called in Covent Garden, and took in Sir John (formerly Dr.) Baber; who hath this humour that he will not enter into discourse while any stranger is in company, till he be told who he is that seems a stranger to him. This he did declare openly to me, and asked my Lord who I was, giving this reason, that he has been inconvenienced by being too free in discourse till he knew who all the company were. Thence to Guildhall (in our way taking in Dr. Wilkins), and there my Lord and I had full and large discourse with Sir Thomas Player,2800 the Chamberlain of the City (a man I have much heard of for his credit and punctuality in the City, and on that score I had a desire to be made known to him), about the credit of our tallies, which are lodged there for security to such as should lend money thereon to the use of the Navy. And I had great satisfaction therein: and the truth is, I find all our matters of credit to be in an ill condition. Thence, I being in a little haste walked before and to the ’Change a little and then home, and presently to Trinity house to dinner, where Captain Cox made his Elder Brother’s dinner. But it seemed to me a very poor sorry dinner. I having many things in my head rose, when my belly was full, though the dinner not half done, and home and there to do some business, and by and by out of doors and met Mr. Povy coming to me by appointment, but it being a little too late, I took a little pride in the street not to go back with him, but prayed him to come another time, and I away to Kate Joyce’s, thinking to have spoke to her husband about Pall’s business, but a stranger, the Welsh Dr. Powell, being there I forebore and went away and so to Hales’s, to see my wife’s picture, which I like mighty well, and there had the pleasure to see how suddenly he draws the Heavens, laying a dark ground and then lightening it when and where he will. Thence to walk all alone in the fields behind Grayes Inne, making an end of reading over my dear Faber Fortunæ, of my Lord Bacon’s, and thence, it growing dark, took two or three wanton turns about the idle places and lanes about Drury Lane, but to no satisfaction, but a great fear of the plague among them, and so anon I walked by invitation to Mrs. Pierce’s, where I find much good company, that is to say, Mrs. Pierce, my wife, Mrs. Worship and her daughter, and Harris the player, and Knipp, and Mercer, and Mrs. Barbary Sheldon, who is come this day to spend a weeke with my wife; and here with music we danced, and sung and supped, and then to sing and dance till past one in the morning; and much mirthe with Sir Anthony Apsley and one Colonel Sidney, who lodge in the house; and above all, they are mightily taken with Mrs. Knipp. Hence weary and sleepy we broke up, and I and my company homeward by coach and to bed.
. Lay till it was full time to rise, it being eight o’clock, and so to the office and there sat till almost three o’clock and then to dinner, and after dinner (my wife and Mercer and Mrs. Barbary being gone to Hales’s before), I and my cousin Anthony Joyce, who come on purpose to dinner with me, and he and I to discourse of our proposition of marriage between Pall and Harman, and upon discourse he and I to Harman’s house and took him to a tavern hard by, and we to discourse of our business, and I offered £500, and he declares most ingenuously that his trade is not to be trusted on, that he however needs no money, but would have her money bestowed on her, which I like well, he saying that he would adventure 2 or £300 with her. I like him as a most good-natured, and discreet man, and, I believe, very cunning. We come to this conclusion for us to meete one another the next weeke, and then we hope to come to some end, for I did declare myself well satisfied with the match. Thence to Hales’s, where I met my wife and people; and do find the picture, above all things, a most pretty picture, and mighty like my wife; and I asked him his price: he says £14, and the truth is, I think he do deserve it. Thence toward London and home, and I to the office, where I did much, and betimes to bed, having had of late so little sleep, and there slept …
… till 7 this morning. Up and all the morning about the Victualler’s business, passing his account. At noon to the ’Change, and did several businesses, and thence to the Crown behind the ’Change and dined with my Lord Brouncker and Captain Cocke and Fenn, and Madam Williams, who without question must be my Lord’s wife, and else she could not follow him wherever he goes and kisse and use him publicly as she do. Thence to the office, where Sir W. Penn and I made an end of the Victualler’s business, and thence abroad about several businesses, and so in the evening back again, and anon called on by Mr. Povy, and he and I stayed together in my chamber till 12 at night ending our reckonings and giving him tallies for all I was to pay him and so parted, and I to make good my Journal for two or three days, and begun it till I come to the other side, where I have scratched so much, for, for want of sleep, I begun to write idle and from the purpose. So forced to breake off, and to bed.2801
. Up, and to finish my Journal, which I had not sense enough the last night to make an end of, and thence to the office, where very busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner and presently with my wife out to Hales’s, where I am still infinitely pleased with my wife’s picture. I paid him £14 for it, and 25s. for the frame, and I think it is not a whit too deare for so good a picture. It is not yet quite finished and dry, so as to be fit to bring home yet. This day I begun to sit, and he will make me, I think, a very fine picture. He promises it shall be as good as my wife’s, and I sit to have it full of shadows, and do almost break my neck looking over my shoulder to make the posture for him to work by. Thence home and to the office, and so home having a great cold, and so my wife and Mrs. Barbary have very great ones, we are at a loss how we all come by it together, so to bed, drinking butter-ale. This day my W. Hewer comes from Portsmouth and gives me an instance of another piece of knavery of Sir W. Penn, who wrote to Commissioner Middleton, that it was my negligence the other day he was not acquainted, as the board directed, with our clerks coming down to the pay. But I need no new arguments to teach me that he is a false rogue to me and all the world besides.
. Up and my cold better, so to church, and then home to dinner, and so walked out to St. James’s Church, thinking to have seen faire Mrs. Butler, but could not, she not being there, nor, I believe, lives thereabouts now. So walked to Westminster, very fine fair dry weather, but all cry out for lack of rain. To Herbert’s and drank, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s, and did what I would with her; her husband going for some wine for us. The poor man I do think would take pains if I can get him a purser’s place, which I will endeavour. She tells me as a secret that Betty Howlet of the Hall, my little sweetheart, that I used to call my second wife, is married to a younger son of Mr. Michell’s (his elder brother, who should have had her, being dead this plague), at which I am glad, and that they are to live nearer me in Thames Street, by the Old Swan. Thence by coach home and to my chamber about some accounts, and so to bed. Sir Christopher Mings is come home from Hambro without anything done, saving bringing home some pipestaves for us.
. Up betimes and upon a meeting extraordinary at the office most of the morning with Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Coventry, and Sir W. Penn, upon the business of the accounts. Where now we have got almost as much as we would have we begin to lay all on the Controller, and I fear he will be run down with it, for he is every day less and less capable of doing business. Thence with my Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Coventry to the ticket office, to see in what little order things are there, and there it is a shame to see how the King is served. Thence to the Chamberlain of London, and satisfy ourselves more particularly how much credit we have there, which proves very little. Thence to Sir Robert Long’s, absent. About much the same business, but have not the satisfaction we would have there neither. So Sir W. Coventry parted, and my Lord and I to Mrs. Williams’s, and there I saw her closet, where indeed a great many fine things there are, but the woman I hate. Here we dined, and Sir J. Minnes come to us, and after dinner we walked to the King’s playhouse, all in dirt, they being altering of the stage to make it wider. But God knows when they will begin to act again; but my business here was to see the inside of the stage and all the tiring-rooms and machines; and, indeed, it was a sight worthy seeing. But to see their clothes, and the various sorts, and what a mixture of things there was; here a wooden-leg, there a ruff, here a hobbyhorse, there a crown, would make a man split himself to see with laughing; and particularly Lacy’s2802 wardrobe, and Shotrell’s.2803 But then again, to think how fine they show on the stage by candlelight, and how poor things they are to look now too near hand, is not pleasant at all. The machines are fine, and the paintings very pretty. Thence mightily satisfied in my curiosity I away with my Lord to see him at her house again, and so take leave and by coach home and to the office, and thence sent for to Sir G. Carteret by and by to the Broad Street, where he and I walked two or three hours till it was quite dark in his gallery talking of his affairs, wherein I assure him all will do well, and did give him (with great liberty, which he accepted kindly) my advice to deny the Board nothing they would aske about his accounts, but rather call upon them to know whether there was anything more they desired, or was wanting. But our great discourse and serious reflections was upon the bad state of the kingdom in general, through want of money and good conduct, which we fear will undo all. Thence mightily satisfied with this good fortune of this discourse with him I home, and there walked in the dark till 10 o’clock at night in the garden with Sir W. Warren, talking of many things belonging to us particularly, and I hope to get something considerably by him before the year be over. He gives me good advice of circumspection in my place, which I am now in great mind to improve; for I think our office stands on very ticklish terms, the Parliament likely to sit shortly and likely to be asked more money, and we able to give a very bad account of the expense of what we have done with what they did give before. Besides, the turning out the prize officers may be an example for the King giving us up to the Parliament’s pleasure as easily, for we deserve it as much. Besides, Sir G. Carteret did tell me tonight how my Lord Brouncker himself, whose goodwill I could have depended as much on as any, did himself to him take notice of the many places I have; and though I was a painful man, yet the Navy was enough for any man to go through with in his own single place there, which much troubles me, and shall yet provoke me to more and more care and diligence than ever. Thence home to supper, where I find my wife and Mrs. Barbary with great colds, as I also at this time have. This day by letter from my father he propounds a match in the country for Pall, which pleased me well, of one that hath seven score and odd pounds land per annum in possession, and expects £1,000 in money by the death of an old aunt. He hath neither father, mother, sister, nor brother, but demands £600 down, and £100 on the birth of first child, which I had some inclination to stretch to. He is kinsman to, and lives with, Mr. Phillips, but my wife tells me he is a drunken, ill-favoured, ill-bred country fellow, which sets me off of it again, and I will go on with Harman. So after supper to bed.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon dined in haste, and so my wife, Mrs. Barbary, Mercer, and I by coach to Hales’s, where I find my wife’s picture now perfectly finished in all respects, and a beautiful picture it is, as almost I ever saw. I sat again, and had a great deal done, but, whatever the matter is, I do not fancy that it has the air of my face, though it will be a very fine picture. Thence home and to my business, being post night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and first by coach to my Lord General to visit him, and then to the Duke of York, where we all met and did our usual business with him; but, Lord! how everything is yielded to presently, even by Sir W. Coventry, that is propounded by the Duke, as now to have Troutbecke,2804 his old surgeon, and intended to go Surgeon-General of the fleet, to go Physician-General of the fleet, of which there never was any precedent in the world, and he for that to have £20 per month. Thence with Lord Brouncker to Sir Robert Long,2805 whom we found in his closet, and after some discourse of business he fell to discourse at large and pleasant, and among other things told us of the plenty of partridges in France, where he says the King of France and his company killed with their guns, in the plain de Versailles, 300 and odd partridges at one bout. Thence I to the Excise Office behind the ’Change, and there find our business of our tallies in great disorder as to payment, and thereupon do take a resolution of thinking how to remedy it, as soon as I can. Thence home, and there met Sir W. Warren, and after I had eat a bit of victuals (he staying in the office) he and I to Whitehall. He to look after the business of the prize ships which we are endeavouring to buy, and hope to get money by them. So I to London by coach and to Gresham College, where I stayed half an houre, and so away home to my office, and there walking late alone in the dark in the garden with Sir W. Warren, who tells me that at the Committee of the Lords for the prizes today, there passed very high words between my Lord Ashly and Sir W. Coventry, about our business of the prize ships. And that my Lord Ashly did snuff and talk as high to him, as he used to do to any ordinary seaman. And that Sir W. Coventry did take it very quietly, but yet for all did speak his mind soberly and with reason, and went away, saying, he had done his duty therein, and so left it to them, whether they would let so many ships go for masts or not: Here he and I talked of 1,000 businesses, all profitable discourse, and late parted, and I home to supper and to bed, troubled a little at a letter from my father, telling me how [he] is like to be sued for a debt of Tom’s, by Smith, the mercer.
. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon my wife being gone to her father’s I dined with Sir W. Batten, he inviting me. After dinner to my office close, and did very much business, and so late home to supper and to bed. The plague increased four this week, which troubles me, though but one in the whole.
. Up, and going out of my dressing-room, when ready to go downstairs, I spied little Mrs. Tooker, my pretty little girl, which, it seems, did come yesterday to our house to stay a little while with us, but I did not know of it till now. I was glad of her coming, she being a very pretty child, and now grown almost a woman. I out by six o’clock by appointment to Hales’s, where we fell to my picture presently very hard, and it comes on a very fine picture, and very merry, pleasant discourse we had all the morning while he was painting. Anon comes my wife and Mercer and little Tooker, and having done with me we all to a picture drawer’s hard by, Hales carrying me to see some landskipps of a man’s doing. But I do not [like] any of them, save only a piece of fruit, which indeed was very fine. Thence I to Westminster, to the Chequer, about a little business, and then to the Swan, and there sent for a bit of meat and dined; and after dinner had opportunity of being pleased with Sarah; and so away to Westminster Hall, and there Mrs. Michell tells me with great joy how little Betty Howlett is married to her young son Michell, which is a pretty odd thing, that he should so soon succeed in the match to his elder brother that died of the plague, and to the house and trade intended for him, and more they say that the girl has heretofore said that she did love this little one more than the other brother that was intended her all along. I am mighty glad of this match, and more that they are likely to live near me in Thames Street, where I may see Betty now and then, whom I from a girl did use to call my second wife, and mighty pretty she is. Thence by coach to Anthony Joyce to receive Harman’s answer, which did trouble me to receive, for he now demands £800, whereas he never made exception at the portion, but accepted of £500. This I do not like; but, however, I cannot much blame the man, if he thinks he can get more of another than of me. So home and hard to my business at the office, where much business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Anthony Joyce, and I did give my final answer, I would give but £500 with my sister, and did show him the good offer made us in the country, to which I did now more and more incline, and intend to pursue that. After dinner I to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier, where the Duke of York was, and I acquitted myself well in what I had to do. After the Committee up, I had occasion to follow the Duke into his lodgings, into a chamber where the Duchess was sitting to have her picture drawn by Lilly, who was there at work. But I was well pleased to see that there was nothing near so much resemblance of her face in his work, which is now the second, if not the third time, as there was of my wife’s at the very first time. Nor do I think at last it can be like, the lines not being in proportion to those of her face. So home, and to the office, where late, and so to bed.
. Up, and to my chamber in my gown all the morning about settling my papers there. At noon to dinner, where my wife’s brother, whom I sent for to offer making him a Muster-Master and send to sea, which the poore man likes well of and will go, and it will be a good preferment to him, only hazardous. I hope he will prove a good discreet man. After dinner to my papers and Tangier accounts again till supper, and after supper again to them, but by my mixing them, I know not how, my private and public accounts, it makes me mad to see how hard it is to bring them to be understood, and my head is confounded, that though I did sweare to sit up till one o’clock upon them, yet, I fear, it will be to no purpose, for I cannot understand what I do or have been doing of them today.
. Up, and a meeting extraordinary there was of Sir W. Coventry, Lord Brouncker, and myself, about the business of settling the ticket office, where infinite room is left for abusing the King in the wages of seamen. Our [meeting] being done, my Lord Brouncker and I to the Tower, to see the famous engraver,2806 to get him to grave a seale for the office. And did see some of the finest pieces of work in embossed work, that ever I did see in my life, for fineness and smallness of the images thereon, and I will carry my wife thither to show them her. Here I also did see bars of gold melting, which was a fine sight. So with my Lord to the Pope’s Head Tavern in Lombard Street to dine by appointment with Captain Taylor, whither Sir W. Coventry come to us, and were mighty merry, and I find reason to honour him every day more and more. Thence alone to Broade Street to Sir G. Carteret by his desire to confer with him, who is I find in great pain about the business of the office, and not a little, I believe, in fear of falling there, Sir W. Coventry having so great a pique against him, and herein I first learn an eminent instance how great a man this day, that nobody would think could be shaken, is the next overthrown, dashed out of countenance, and every small thing of irregularity in his business taken notice of, where nobody the other day durst cast an eye upon them, and next I see that he that the other day nobody durst come near is now as supple as a spaniel, and sends and speaks to me with great submission, and readily hears to advice. Thence home to the office, where busy late, and so home a little to my accounts public and private, but could not get myself rightly to know how to dispose of them in order to passing.
. All the morning at the office busy. At noon dined at home, Mr. Cooke, our old acquaintance at my Lord Sandwich’s, come to see and dine with me, but I quite out of humour, having many other and better things to think of. Thence to the office to settle my people’s worke and then home to my public accounts of Tangier, which it is strange by meddling with evening reckonings with Mr. Povy lately how I myself am become intangled therein, so that after all I could do, ready to breake my head and brains, I thought of another way, though not so perfect, yet the only one which this account is capable of. Upon this latter I sat up till past two in the morning and then to bed.
. Up, and with Creed, who come hither betimes to speake with me about his accounts, to Whitehall by water, mighty merry in discourse, though I had been very little troubled with him, or did countenance it, having now, blessed be God! a great deal of good business to mind to better purpose than chatting with him. Waited on the Duke, after that walked with Sir W. Clerke into St. James’s Park, and by and by met with Mr. Hayes,2807 Prince Rupert’s Secretary, who are mighty, both, briske blades, but I fear they promise themselves more than they expect. Thence to the Cockpit, and dined with a great deal of company at the Duke of Albemarle’s, and a bad and dirty, nasty dinner. So by coach to Hales’s, and there sat again, and it is become mighty like. Hither come my wife and Mercer brought by Mrs. Pierce and Knipp, we were mighty merry and the picture goes on the better for it. Thence set them down at Pierce’s, and we home, where busy and at my chamber till 12 at night, and so to bed. This night, I am told, the Queen of Portugal, the mother to our Queen, is lately dead, and news brought of it hither this day.2808
. All the morning hard at the office. At noon dined and then out to Lombard Street, to look after the getting of some money that is lodged there of mine in Viner’s hands, I having no mind to have it lie there longer. So back again and to the office, where and at home about public and private business and accounts till past 12 at night, and so to bed. This day, poor Jane, my old, little Jane, came to us again, to my wife’s and my great content, and we hope to take mighty pleasure in her, she having all the marks and qualities of a good and loving and honest servant, she coming by force away from the other place, where she hath lived ever since she went from us, and at our desire, her late mistress having used all the stratagems she could to keepe her.
. My wife and I mighty pleased with Jane’s coming to us again. Up, and away goes Alce, our cook-maid, a good servant, whom we loved and did well by her, and she an excellent servant, but would not bear being told of any faulte in the fewest and kindest words and would go away of her own accord, after having given her mistress warning fickly for a quarter of a yeare together. So we shall take another girl and make little Jane our cook, at least, make a trial of it. Up, and after much business I out to Lombard Street, and there received £2,200 and brought it home; and, contrary to expectation, received £35 for the use of £2,000 of it [for] a quarter of a year, where it hath produced me this profit, and hath been a convenience to me as to care and security of my house, and demandable at two days’ warning, as this hath been. This morning Sir W. Warren come to me a second time about having £2,000 of me upon his bills on the Act to enable him to pay for the ships he is buying, wherein I shall have considerable profit. I am loth to do it, but yet speaking with Colvill I do not see but I shall be able to do it and get money by it too. Thence home and eat one mouthful, and so to Hales’s, and there sat till almost quite dark upon working my gown, which I hired to be drawn in; an Indian gown, and I do see all the reason to expect a most excellent picture of it. So home and to my private accounts in my chamber till past one in the morning, and so to bed, with my head full of thoughts for my evening of all my accounts tomorrow, the latter end of the month, in which God give me good issue, for I never was in such a confusion in my life and that in great sums.
. All the morning at the office busy. At noon to dinner, and thence to the office and did my business there as soon as I could, and then home and to my accounts, where very late at them, but, Lord! what a deal of do I have to understand any part of them, and in short do what I could, I could not come to any understanding of them, but after I had throughly wearied myself, I was forced to go to bed and leave them much against my will and vowe too, but I hope God will forgive me, for I have sat up these four nights till past twelve at night to master them, but cannot. Thus ends this month, with my head and mind mighty full and disquiet because of my accounts, which I have let go too long, and confounded my public with my private that I cannot come to any liquidating of them. However, I do see that I must be grown richer than I was by a good deal last month. Busy also I am in thoughts for a husband for my sister, and to that end my wife and I have determined that she shall presently go into the country to my father and mother, and consider of a proffer made them for her in the country, which, if she likes, shall go forward.
April 1666
. Up and abroad, and by coach to Charing Cross, to wait on Sir Philip Howard; whom I found in bed: and he do receive me very civilly. My request was about suffering my wife’s brother to go to sea, and to save his pay in the Duke’s guards; which after a little difficulty he did with great respect agree to. I find him a very fine-spoken gentleman, and one of great parts, and very courteous. Much pleased with this visit I to Whitehall, where I met Sir G. Downing, and to discourse with him an houre about the Exchequer payments upon the late Act, and informed myself of him thoroughly in my safety in lending £2,000 to Sir W. Warren, upon an order of his upon the Exchequer for £2,602 and I do purpose to do it. Thence meeting Dr. Allen,2809 the physician, he and I and another walked in the Park, a most pleasant warm day, and to the Queen’s chapel; where I do not so dislike the music. Here I saw on a post an invitation to all good Catholics to pray for the soul of such a one departed this life. The Queen, I hear, do not yet hear of the death of her mother, she being in a course of physic, that they dare not tell it her. At noon by coach home, and there by invitation met my uncle and aunt Wight and their cousin Mary, and dined with me and very merry. After dinner my uncle and I abroad by coach to Whitehall, up and down the house, and I did some business and thence with him and a gentleman he met with to my Lord Chancellor’s new house, and there viewed it again and again and up to the top and I like it as well as ever and think it a most noble house. So all up and down my Lord St. Albans his new building and market-house,2810 and the tavern under the market-house, looking to and again into every place of building, and so away and took coach and home, where to my accounts, and was at them till I could not hold open my eyes, and so to bed. I this afternoon made a visit to my Lady Carteret, whom I understood newly come to town; and she took it mighty kindly, but I see her face and heart are dejected from the condition her husband’s matters stand in. But I hope they will do all well enough. And I do comfort her as much as I can, for she is a noble lady.
. Up, and to the office and thence with Mr. Gawden to Guildhall to see the bills and tallies there in the chamber (and by the way in the street his new coach broke and we fain to take an old hackney). Thence to the Exchequer again to inform myself of some other points in the new Act in order to my lending Sir W. Warren £2,000 upon an order of his upon the Act, which they all encourage me to. There walking with Mr. Gawden in Westminster Hall, he and I to talk from one business to another and at last to the marriage of his daughter. He told me the story of Creed’s pretences to his daughter, and how he would not believe but she loved him, while his daughter was in great passion on the other hand against him. Thence to talk of his son Benjamin; and I propounded a match for him, and at last named my sister, which he embraces heartily, and speaking of the lowness of her portion, that it would be less than £1,000, he tells me if everything else agrees, he will out of what he means to give me yearly, make a portion for her shall cost me nothing more than I intend freely. This did mightily rejoice me and full of it did go with him to London to the ’Change; and there did much business and at the Coffeehouse with Sir W. Warren, who very wisely did show me that my matching my sister with Mr. Gawden would undo me in all my places, everybody suspecting me in all I do; and I shall neither be able to serve him, nor free myself from imputation of being of his faction, while I am placed for his severest check. I was convinced that it would be for neither of our interests to make this alliance, and so am quite off of it again, but with great satisfaction in the motion. Thence to the Crown tavern behind the Exchange to meet with Cocke and Fenn and did so, and dined with them, and after dinner had the intent of our meeting, which was some private discourse with Fenn, telling him what I hear and think of his business, which he takes very kindly and says he will look about him. It was about his giving of ill language and answers to people that come to him about money and some other particulars. This morning Mrs. Barbary and little Mrs. Tooker went away homeward. Thence my wife by coach calling me at Whitehall to visit my Lady Carteret, and she was not within. So to Westminster Hall, where I purposely tooke my wife well dressed into the Hall to see and be seen; and, among others, [met] Howlet’s daughter, who is newly married, and is she I call wife, and one I love mightily. So to Broad Street and there met my Lady and Sir G. Carteret, and sat and talked with them a good while and so home, and to my accounts which I cannot get through with. But at it till I grew drowsy, and so to bed mightily vexed that I can come to no better issue in my accounts.
. Up, and Sir W. Warren with me betimes and signed a bond, and assigned his order on the Exchequer to a blank for me to fill and I did deliver him £1,900.2811 The truth is, it is a great venture to venture so much on the Act, but thereby I hedge in £300 gift for my service about some ships that he hath bought, prizes, and good interest besides, and his bond to repay me the money at six weeks’ warning. So to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and there my brother Balty dined with me and my wife, who is become a good serious man, and I hope to do him good being sending him a Muster-Master on one of the squadrons of the fleet. After dinner and he gone I to my accounts hard all the afternoon till it was quite dark, and I thank God I do come to bring them very fairly to make me worth £5,000 stocke in the world, which is a great mercy to me. Though I am a little troubled to find £50 difference between the particular account I make to myself of my profits and loss in each month and the account which I raise from my acquittances and money which I have at the end of every month in my chest and other men’s hands. However I do well believe that I am effectually £5,000, the greatest sum I ever was in my life yet, and this day I have as I have said before agreed with Sir W. Warren and got of him £300 gift. At night a while to the office and then home and supped and to my accounts again till I was ready to sleepe, there being no pleasure to handle them, if they are not kept in good order. So to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn in his coach to Whitehall, in his way talking simply and fondly as he used to do, but I find myself to slight him and his simple talk, I thank God, and that my condition will enable me to do it. Thence, after doing our business with the Duke of York, with Captain Cocke home to the ’Change in his coach. He promises me presently a dozen of silver salts, and proposes a business for which he hath promised Mrs. Williams for my Lord Brouncker a set of plate shall cost him £500 and me the like, which will be a good business indeed. After done several businesses at the ’Change I home, and being washing day dined upon cold meate, and so abroad by coach to Hales’s, and there sat till night, mightily pleased with my picture, which is now almost finished. So by coach home, it being the fast day and to my chamber and so after supper to bed, consulting how to send my wife into the country to advise about Pall’s marriage, which I much desire, and my father too, and two or three offers are now in hand.
. Up, and before office time to Lombard Street, and there at Viner’s was shown the silver plates, made for Captain Cocke to present my Lord Brouncker; and I chose a dozen of the same weight to be bespoke for myself, which he told me yesterday he would give me on the same occasion. To the office, where the falseness and impertinencies of Sir W. Penn would make a man mad to think of. At noon would have avoided, but could not, dining with my Lord Brouncker and his mistress with Captain Cocke at the Sun Tavern in Fish Street, where a good dinner, but the woman do tire me, and indeed how simply my Lord Brouncker, who is otherwise a wise man, do proceed at the table in serving of Cocke, without any means of understanding in his proposal, or defence when proposed, would make a man think him a foole. After dinner home, where I find my wife hath on a sudden, upon notice of a coach going away tomorrow, taken a resolution of going in it to Brampton, we having lately thought it fit for her to go to satisfy herself and me in the nature of the fellow that is there proposed to my sister. So she to fit herself for her journey and I to the office all the afternoon till late, and so home and late putting notes to “It is decreed, nor shall thy fate, etc.”2812 and then to bed. The plague is, to our great grief, increased nine this week, though decreased a few in the total. And this increase runs through many parishes, which makes us much fear the next year.
. Up mighty betimes upon my wife’s going this day toward Brampton. I could not go to the coach with her, but W. Hewer did and hath leave from me to go the whole day’s journey with her. All the morning upon business at the office, and at noon dined, and Mrs. Hunt coming lent her £5 on her occasions and so carried her to Axe Yard end at Westminster and there left her, a good and understanding woman, and her husband I perceive thrives mightily in his business of the Excise. Thence to Mr. Hales and there sat, and my picture almost finished, which by the word of Mr. and Mrs. Pierce (who come in accidently) is mighty like, and I am sure I am mightily pleased both in the thing and the posture. Thence with them home a little, and so to Whitehall and there met by agreement with Sir Stephen Fox and Mr. Ashburnham, and discoursed the business of our Excise tallies; the former being Treasurer of the guards, and the other Cofferer of the King’s household. I benefitted much by their discourse. We come to no great conclusion upon our discourse, but parted, and I home, where all things, methinks, melancholy in the absence of my wife. This day great news of the Swedes declaring for us against the Dutch, and, so far as that, I believe it. After a little supper to bed.
. Lay pretty long today, lying alone and thinking of several businesses. So up to the office and there till noon. Thence with my Lord Brouncker home by coach to Mrs. Williams’s, where Bab. Allen and Dr. Charleton dined. Bab and I sang and were mighty merry as we could be there, where the rest of the company did not overplease. Thence took her by coach to Hales’s, and there find Mrs. Pierce and her boy and Mary. She had done sitting the first time, and indeed her face is mighty like at first dash. Thence took them to the cakehouse, and there called in the coach for cakes and drank, and thence I carried them to my Lord Chancellor’s new house to show them that, and all mightily pleased, thence set each down at home, and so I home to the office, where about ten of the clock W. Hewer comes to me to tell me that he has left my wife well this morning at Bugden, which was great riding, and brings me a letter from her. She is very well got thither, of which I am heartily glad. After writing several letters, I home to supper and to bed. The Parliament of which I was afraid of their calling us of the Navy to an account of the expense of money and stores and wherein we were so little ready to give them a good answer [will soon meet].2813 The Bishop of Munster, everybody says, is coming to peace with the Dutch, we having not supplied him with the money promised him.
. Up, and was in great trouble how to get a passage to Whitehall, it raining, and no coach to be had. So I walked to the Old Swan, and there got a scull. To the Duke of York, where we all met to hear the debate between Sir Thomas Allen and Mr. Wayth; the former complaining of the latter’s ill usage of him at the late pay of his ship. But a very sorry poor occasion he had for it. The Duke did determine it with great judgement, chiding both, but encouraging Wayth to continue to be a check to all captains in anything to the King’s right. And, indeed, I never did see the Duke do anything more in order, nor with more judgement than he did pass the verdict in this business. The Court full this morning of the news of Tom Cheffin’s2814 death, the King’s closet-keeper. He was well last night as ever, flaying at tables in the house, and not very ill this morning at six o’clock, yet dead before seven: they think, of an imposthume in his breast. But it looks fearfully among people nowadays, the plague, as we hear, increasing everywhere again. To the Chapel, but could not get in to hear well. But I had the pleasure once in my life to see an Archbishop2815 (this was of York) in a pulpit. Then at a loss how to get home to dinner, having promised to carry Mrs. Hunt thither. At last got my Lord Hinchingbroke’s coach, he staying at Court; and so took her up in Axe-yard, and home and dined. And good discourse of the old matters of the Protector and his family, she having a relation to them. The Protector2816 lives in France: spends about £500 per annum. Thence carried her home again and then to Court and walked over to St. James’s Chapel, thinking to have heard a Jesuite preach, but come too late. So got a hackney and home, and there to business. At night had Mercer comb my head and so to supper, sing a psalm, and to bed.
. Up betimes, and with my Joiner begun the making of the window in my boy’s chamber bigger, purposing it shall be a roome to eat and for having music in. To the office, where a meeting upon extraordinary business, at noon to the ’Change about more, and then home with Creed and dined, and then with him to the Committee of Tangier, where I got two or three things done I had a mind to of convenience to me. Thence by coach to Mrs. Pierce’s, and with her and Knipp and Mrs. Pierce’s boy and girl abroad, thinking to have been merry at Chelsey; but being come almost to the house by coach near the waterside, a house alone, I think the Swan, a gentleman walking by called to us to tell us that the house was shut up of the sickness. So we with great affright turned back, being holden to the gentleman; and went away (I for my part in great disorder) for Kensington, and there I spent about 30s. upon the jades with great pleasure, and we sang finely and stayed till about eight at night, the night coming on apace and so set them down at Pierce’s, and so away home, where awhile with Sir W. Warren about business, and then to bed.
. Up betimes, and many people to me about business. To the office and there sat till noon, and then home and dined, and to the office again all the afternoon, where we sat all, the first time of our resolution to sit both forenoons and afternoons. Much business at night and then home, and though late did see some work done by the plasterer to my new window in the boy’s chamber plastered. Then to supper, and after having my head combed by the little girl to bed. Bad news that the plague is decreased in the general again and two increased in the sickness.
. To Whitehall, having first set my people to worke about setting me rails upon the leads of my wife’s closet, a thing I have long designed, but never had a fit opportunity till now. After having done with the Duke of York, I to Hales’s, where there was nothing found to be done more to my picture,2817 but the music, which now pleases me mightily, it being painted true. Thence home, and after dinner to Gresham College, where a great deal of do and formality in choosing of the Council and Officers. I had three votes to be of the Council, who am but a stranger, nor expected any.2818 So my Lord Brouncker being confirmed President I home, where I find to my great content my rails up upon my leads. To the office and did a little business, and then home and did a great jobb at my Tangier accounts, which I find are mighty apt to run into confusion, my head also being too full of other businesses and pleasures. This noon Bagwell’s wife come to me to the office, after her being long at Portsmouth. After supper, and past 12 at night to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home and so to my office again, and taking a turne in the garden my Lady Penn comes to me and takes me into her house, where I find her daughter and a pretty lady of her acquaintance, one Mrs. Lowder,2819 sister, I suppose, of her servant Lowder’s, with whom I, notwithstanding all my resolution to follow business close this afternoon, did stay talking and playing the foole almost all the afternoon, and there saw two or three foolish sorry pictures of her doing, but very ridiculous compared to what my wife do. She grows mighty homely and looks old. Thence ashamed at myself for this losse of time, yet not able to leave it, I to the office, where my Lord Brouncker come; and he and I had a little fray, he being, I find, a very peevish man, if he be denied what he expects, and very simple in his argument in this business (about signing a warrant for paying Sir Thos. Allen £1,000 out of the groats); but we were pretty good friends before we parted, and so we broke up and I to the writing my letters by the post, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, being called up by my wife’s brother, for whom I have got a commission from the Duke of York for Muster-Master of one of the divisions, of which Harman is Rear-Admiral, of which I am glad as well as he. After I had acquainted him with it, and discoursed a little of it, I went forth and took him with me by coach to the Duke of Albemarle, who being not up, I took a walk with Balty into the Park, and to the Queen’s Chapel, it being Good Friday, where people were all upon their knees very silent; but, it seems, no masse this day. So back and waited on the Duke and received some commands of his, and so by coach to Mr. Hales’s, where it is pretty strange to see that his second doing, I mean the second time of her sitting, is less like Mrs. Pierce than the first, and yet I am confident will be most like her, for he is so curious that I do not see how it is possible for him to mistake. Here he and I presently resolved of going to Whitehall, to spend an houre in the galleries there among the pictures, and we did so to my great satisfaction, he showing me the difference in the payntings, and when I come more and more to distinguish and observe the workmanship, I do not find so many good things as I thought there was, but yet great difference between the works of some and others; and, while my head and judgment was full of these, I would go back again to his house to see his pictures, and indeed, though, I think, at first sight some difference do open, yet very inconsiderably but that I may judge his to be very good pictures. Here we fell into discourse of my picture, and I am for his putting out the Landskipp, though he says it is very well done, yet I do judge it will be best without it, and so it shall be put out, and be made a plain sky like my wife’s picture, which will be very noble. Thence called upon an old woman in Pannier Ally to agree for ruling of some paper for me and she will do it pretty cheap. Here I found her have a very comely black maid to her servant, which I liked very well. So home to dinner and to see my joiner do the bench upon my leads to my great content. After dinner I abroad to carry paper to my old woman, and so to Westminster Hall, and there beyond my intention or design did see and speak with Betty Howlett, at her father’s still, and it seems they carry her to her own house to begin the world with her young husband on Monday next, Easter Monday. I please myself with the thoughts of her neighbourhood, for I love the girl mightily. Thence home, and thither comes Mr. Houblon and a brother, with whom I evened for the charter parties of their ships for Tangier, and paid them the third advance on their freight to full satisfaction, and so, they being gone, comes Creed and with him till past one in the morning, evening his accounts till my head ached and I was fit for nothing, however, coming at last luckily to see through and settle all to my mind, it did please me mightily, and so with my mind at rest to bed, and he with me and hard to sleep.
. Up about seven and finished our papers, he and I, and I delivered him tallies and some money and so away I to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon dined at home and Creed with me, then parted, and I to the office, and anon called thence by Sir H. Cholmley and he and I to my chamber, and there settled our matters of accounts, and did give him tallies and money to clear him, and so he being gone and all these accounts cleared I shall be even with the King, so as to make a very clear and short account in a very few days, which pleases me very well. Here he and I discoursed a great while about Tangier, and he do convince me, as things are now ordered by my Lord Bellasses and will be by Norwood (men that do only mind themselves), the garrison will never come to anything, and he proposes his own being governor, which in truth I do think will do very well, and that he will bring it to something. He gone I to my office, where to write letters late, and then home and looked over a little more my papers of accounts lately passed, and so to bed.
. Up and by water to Westminster to the Swan to lay down my cloak, and there found Sarah alone, with whom after I had stayed awhile I to Whitehall Chapel, and there coming late could hear nothing of the Bishop of London’s sermon. So walked into the Park to the Queen’s chapel, and there heard a good deal of their mass, and some of their music, which is not so contemptible, I think, as our people would make it, it pleasing me very well; and, indeed, better than the anthem I heard afterwards at Whitehall, at my coming back. I stayed till the King went down to receive the Sacrament, and stood in his closet with a great many others, and there saw him receive it, which I did never see the manner of before. But I do see very little difference between the degree of the ceremonies used by our people in the administration thereof, and that in the Roman church, saving that methought our Chapel was not so fine, nor the manner of doing it so glorious, as it was in the Queen’s chapel. Thence walked to Mr. Pierce’s, and there dined, I alone with him and her and their children: very good company and good discourse, they being able to tell me all the businesses of the Court; the amours and the mad doings that are there; how for certain Mrs. Stewart do do everything with the King that a mistress should do; and that the King hath many bastard children that are known and owned, besides the Duke of Monmouth. After a great deal of this discourse I walked thence into the Park with her little boy James with me, who is the wittiest boy and the best company in the world, and so back again through Whitehall both coming and going, and people did generally take him to be my boy and some would aske me. Thence home to Mr. Pierce again; and he being gone forth, she and I and the children out by coach to Kensington, to where we were the other day, and with great pleasure stayed till night; and were mighty late getting home, the horses tiring and stopping at every twenty steps. By the way we discoursed of Mrs. Clerke, who, she says, is grown mighty high, fine, and proud, but tells me an odd story how Captain Rolt did see her the other day accost a gentleman in Westminster Hall and went with him, and he dogged them to Moorefields to a little blind bawdy house, and there stayed watching three hours and they come not out, so could stay no longer but left them there, and he is sure it was she, he knowing her well and describing her very clothes to Mrs. Pierce, which she knows are what she wears. Seeing them well at home I homeward, but the horses at Ludgate Hill made a final stop; so there I ’lighted, and with a linke, it being about 10 o’clock, walked home, and after singing a Psalm or two and supped to bed.
. Up, and set my people, Mercer, W. Hewer, Tom and the girl at work at ruling and stitching my ruled book for the Muster-Masters, and I hard toward the settling of my Tangier accounts. At noon dined alone, the girl Mercer taking physic can eat nothing, and W. Hewer went forth to dinner. So up to my accounts again, and then comes Mrs. Mercer and fair Mrs. Turner, a neighbour of hers that my wife knows by their means, to visit me. I stayed a great while with them, being taken with this pretty woman, though a mighty silly, affected citizen woman she is. Then I left them to come to me at supper anon, and myself out by coach to the old woman in Pannyer Alley for my ruled papers, and they are done, and I am much more taken with her black maid Nan. Thence further to Westminster, thinking to have met Mrs. Martin, but could not find her, so back and called at Kirton’s to borrow 10s. to pay for my ruled papers, I having not money in my pocket enough to pay for them. But it was a pretty consideration that on this occasion I was considering where I could with most confidence in a time of need borrow 10s., and I protest I could not tell where to do it and with some trouble and fear did aske it here. So that God keepe me from want, for I shall be in a very bad condition to help myself if ever I should come to want or borrow. Thence called for my papers and so home, and there comes Mrs. Turner and Mercer and supped with me, and well pleased I was with their company, but especially Mrs. Turner’s, she being a very pretty woman of person and her face pretty good, the colour of her haire very fine and light. They stayed with me talking till about eleven o’clock and so home, W. Hewer, who supped with me, leading them home. So I to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home, my brother Balty with me, who is fitting himself to go to sea. So after dinner to my accounts and did proceed a good way in settling them, and thence to the office, where all the afternoon late, writing my letters and doing business, but, Lord! what a conflict I had with myself, my heart tempting me 1,000 times to go abroad about some pleasure or other, notwithstanding the weather foule. However I reproached myself with my weakness in yielding so much my judgment to my sense, and prevailed with difficulty and did not budge, but stayed within, and, to my great content, did a great deal of business, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I am told that Moll Davis, the pretty girl, that sang and danced so well at the Duke’s house, is dead.2820
. [Up] and by coach with Sir W. Batten and Sir Thos. Allen to Whitehall, and there after attending the Duke as usual and there concluding of many things preparatory to the Prince and General’s going to sea on Monday next, Sir W. Batten and Sir T. Allen and I to Mr. Lilly’s, the painter’s; and there saw the heads, some finished, and all begun, of the Flagmen2821 in the late great fight with the Duke of York against the Dutch. The Duke of York hath them done to hang in his chamber, and very finely they are done indeed. Here is the Prince’s, Sir G. Askue’s, Sir Thomas Teddiman’s, Sir Christopher Mings, Sir Joseph Jordan, Sir William Barkeley, Sir Thomas Allen, and Captain Harman’s, as also the Duke of Albemarle’s; and will be my Lord Sandwich’s, Sir W. Penn’s, and Sir Jeremy Smith’s. Being very well satisfied with this sight, and other good pictures hanging in the house, we parted, and I left them, and [to] pass away a little time went to the printed picture seller’s in the way thence to the Exchange, and there did see great plenty of fine prints; but did not buy any, only a print of an old pillar in Rome made for a Naval Triumph,2822 which for the antiquity of the shape of ships, I buy and keepe.2823 Thence to the Exchange, that is, the New Exchange, and looked over some play books and intend to get all the late new plays. So to Westminster, and there at the Swan got a bit of meat and dined alone; and so away toward King’s Street, and spying out of my coach Jane that lived heretofore at Jevons, my barber’s, I went a little further and stopped, and went on foot back, and overtook her, taking water at Westminster Bridge, and spoke to her, and she telling me whither she was going I over the water and met her at Lambeth, and there drank with her; she telling me how he that was so long her servant, did prove to be a married man, though her master told me (which she denies) that he had lain with her several times in his house. There left her sans essayer alcune cose con elle, and so away by boat to the ’Change, and took coach and to Mr. Hales, where he would have persuaded me to have had the landskipp stand in my picture, but I like it not and will have it otherwise, which I perceive he do not like so well, however is so civil as to say it shall be altered. Thence away to Mrs. Pierce’s, who was not at home, but gone to my house to visit me with Mrs. Knipp. I therefore took up the little girl Betty and my maid Mary that now lives there and to my house, where they had been but were gone, so in our way back again met them coming back again to my house in Cornehill, and there stopped laughing at our pretty misfortunes, and so I carried them to Fish Street, and there treated them with prawns and lobsters, and it beginning to grow dark we away, but the jest is our horses would not draw us up the Hill, but we were fain to ’light and stay till the coachman had made them draw down to the bottom of the Hill, thereby warming their legs, and then they came up cheerfully enough, and we got up and I carried them home, and coming home called at my paper ruler’s and there found black Nan, which pleases me mightily, and having saluted her again and again away home and to bed. … In all my ridings in the coach and intervals my mind hath been full these three weeks of setting in music “It is decreed, etc.”
. Lay long in bed, so to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined with Sir W. Warren at the Pope’s Head. So back to the office, and there met with the Commissioners of the Ordnance, where Sir W. Penn being almost drunk vexed me, and the more because Mr. Chichly observed it with me, and it was a disparagement to the office. They gone I to my office. Anon comes home my wife from Brampton, not looked for till Saturday, which will hinder me of a little pleasure, but I am glad of her coming. She tells me Pall’s business with Ensum is like to go on, but I must give, and she consents to it, another £100. She says she doubts my father is in want of money, for rents come in mighty slowly. My mother grows very unpleasant and troublesome and my father mighty infirm through his old distemper,2824 which altogether makes me mighty thoughtful. Having heard all this and bid her welcome I to the office, where late, and so home, and after a little more talk with my wife, she to bed and I after her.
. Up, and after an houre or two’s talk with my poor wife, who gives me more and more content every day than other, I abroad by coach to Westminster, and there met with Mrs. Martin, and she and I over the water to Stangold,2825 and after a walke in the fields to the King’s Head, and there spent an houre or two with pleasure with her, and eat a tansy and so parted, and I to the New Exchange, there to get a list of all the modern plays which I intend to collect and to have them bound up together. Thence to Mr. Hales’s, and there, though against his particular mind, I had my landskipp done out, and only a heaven made in the roome of it, which though it do not please me thoroughly now it is done, yet it will do better than as it was before. Thence to Paul’s Churchyarde, and there bespoke some new books, and so to my ruling woman’s and there did see my work a doing, and so home and to my office a little, but was hindered of business I intended by being sent for to Mrs. Turner, who desired some discourse with me and lay her condition before me, which is bad and poor. Sir Thomas Harvey intends again to have lodgings in her house, which she prays me to prevent if I can, which I promised. Thence to talk generally of our neighbours. I find she tells me the faults of all of them, and their bad words of me and my wife, and indeed do discover more than I thought. So I told her, and so will practise that I will have nothing to do with any of them. She ended all with a promise of shells to my wife, very fine ones indeed, and seems to have great respect and honour for my wife. So home and to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, there to prepare some things against the afternoon for discourse about the business of the pursers and settling the pursers’ matters of the fleet according to my proposition. By and by the office sat, and they being up I continued at the office to finish my matters against the meeting before the Duke this afternoon, so home about three to clap a bit of meate in my mouth, and so away with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, and there to the Duke, but he being to go abroad to take the air, he dismissed us presently without doing anything till tomorrow morning. So my Lord Brouncker and I down to walk in the garden [at Whitehall], it being a mighty hot and pleasant day; and there was the King, who, among others, talked to us a little; and among other pretty things, he swore merrily that he believed the ketch that Sir W. Batten bought the last year at Colchester was of his own getting, it was so thick to its length. Another pleasant thing he said of Christopher Pett, commending him that he will not alter his moulds of his ships upon any man’s advice; “as,” says he, “Commissioner Taylor I fear do of his New London, that he makes it differ, in hopes of mending the Old London, built by him.” “For,” says he, “he finds that God hath put him into the right, and so will keep in it while he is in.” “And,” says the King, “I am sure it must be God put him in, for no art of his own ever could have done it;” for it seems he cannot give a good account of what he do as an artist. Thence with my Lord Brouncker in his coach to Hide Park, the first time I have been there this year. There the King was; but I was sorry to see my Lady Castlemaine, for the mourning forcing all the ladies to go in black, with their hair plain and without any spots, I find her to be a much more ordinary woman than ever I durst have thought she was; and, indeed, is not so pretty as Mrs. Stewart, whom I saw there also. Having done at the Park he set me down at the Exchange, and I by coach home and there to my letters, and they being done, to writing a large letter about the business of the pursers to Sir W. Batten against tomorrow’s discourse, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and put on my new black coat, long down to my knees, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, where all in deep mourning for the Queen’s mother. There had great discourse, before the Duke and Sir W. Coventry begun the discourse of the day about the purser’s business, which I seconded, and with great liking to the Duke, whom however afterward my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn did stop by some thing they said, though not much to the purpose, yet because our proposition had some appearance of certain charge to the King it was ruled that for this year we should try another the same in every respect with ours, leaving out one circumstance of allowing the pursers the victuals of all men short of the complement. I was very well satisfied with it and am contented to try it, wishing it may prove effectual. Thence away with Sir W. Batten in his coach home, in our way he telling me the certaine news, which was afterward confirmed to me this day by several, that the Bishop of Munster has made a league [with] the Hollanders, and that our King and Court are displeased much at it: moreover we are not sure of Sweden. I home to my house, and there dined mighty well, my poor wife and Mercer and I. So back again walked to Whitehall, and there to and again in the Park, till being in the shoemaker’s stockes.2826 I was heartily weary, yet walked however to the Queen’s Chapel at St. James’s, and there saw a little maid baptized; many parts and words whereof are the same with that of our Liturgy, and little that is more ceremonious than ours. Thence walked to Westminster and eat a bit of bread and drank, and so to Worster House,2827 and there stayed, and saw the Council up, and then back, walked to the Cockpit, and there took my leave of the Duke of Albemarle, who is going tomorrow to sea. He seems mightily pleased with me, which I am glad of; but I do find infinitely my concernment in being careful to appear to the King and Duke to continue my care of his business, and to be found diligent as I used to be. Thence walked wearily as far as Fleet Street and so there met a coach and home to supper and to bed, having sat a great while with Will Joyce, who come to see me, and it is the first time I have seen him at my house since the plague, and find him the same impertinent, prating coxcombe that ever he was.
. Being mighty weary last night, lay long this morning, then up and to the office, where Sir W. Batten, Lord Brouncker and I met, and toward noon took coach and to Whitehall, where I had the opportunity to take leave of the Prince, and again of the Duke of Albemarle; and saw them kiss the King’s hands and the Duke’s; and much content, indeed, there seems to be in all people at their going to sea, and [they] promise themselves much good from them. This morning the House of Parliament do meet, only to adjourne again till winter. The plague, I hear, increases in the town much, and exceedingly in the country everywhere. Thence walked to Westminster Hall, and after a little stay, there being nothing now left to keep me there, Betty Howlett being gone, I took coach and away home, in my way asking in two or three places the worth of pearles, I being now come to the time that I have long ago promised my wife a necklace. Dined at home and took Balty with me to Hales’s to show him his sister’s picture, and thence to Westminster, and there I to the Swan and drank, and so back again alone to Hales’s and there met my wife and Mercer, Mrs. Pierce being sitting, and two or three idle people of her acquaintance more standing by. Her picture do come on well. So stayed until she had done and then set her down at home, and my wife and I and the girl by coach to Islington, and there eat and drank in the coach and so home, and there find a girl sent at my desire by Mrs. Michell of Westminster Hall, to be my girl under the cook-maid, Susan. But I am a little dissatisfied that the girl, though young, is taller and bigger than Su, and will not, I fear, be under her command, which will trouble me, and the more because she is recommended by a friend that I would not have any unkindness with, but my wife do like very well of her. So to my accounts and journal at my chamber, there being bonfires in the street, for being St. George’s day, and the King’s Coronation, and the day of the Prince and Duke’s going to sea. So having done my business, to bed.
. Up, and presently am told that the girl that came yesterday hath packed up her things to be gone home again to Enfield, whence she come, which I was glad of, that we might be at first rid of her altogether rather than be liable to her going away hereafter. The reason was that London do not agree with her. So I did give her something, and away she went. By and by comes Mr. Bland to me, the first time since his coming from Tangier, and tells me, in short, how all things are out of order there, and like to be; and the place never likely to come to anything while the soldiers govern all, and do not encourage trade. He gone I to the office, where all the morning, and so to dinner, and there in the afternoon very busy all day till late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to Whitehall to the Duke as usual, and did our business there. So I away to Westminster (Balty with me, whom I had presented to Sir W. Coventry) and there told Mrs. Michell of her kinswoman’s running away, which troubled her. So home, and there find another little girl come from my wife’s mother, likely to do well. After dinner I to the office, where Mr. Prin come to meet about the Chest business; and till company come, did discourse with me a good while alone in the garden about the laws of England, telling me the many faults in them; and among others, their obscurity through multitude of long statutes, which he is about to abstract out of all of a sort; and as he lives, and Parliaments come, get them put into laws, and the other statutes repealed, and then it will be a short work to know the law, which appears a very noble good thing. By and by Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Rider met with us, and we did something to purpose about the Chest, and hope we shall go on to do so. They up, I to present Balty to Sir W. Penn, who at my entreaty did write a most obliging letter to Harman to use him civilly, but the dissembling of the rogue is such, that it do not oblige me at all. So abroad to my ruler’s of my books, having, God forgive me! a mind to see Nan there, which I did, and so back again, and then out again to see Mrs. Bettons, who were looking out of the window as I come through Fenchurch Street. So that indeed I am not, as I ought to be, able to command myself in the pleasures of my eye. So home, and with my wife and Mercer spent our evening upon our new leads by our bedchamber singing, while Mrs. Mary Batelier looked out of the window to us, and we talked together, and at last bid good night. However, my wife and I stayed there talking of several things with great pleasure till eleven o’clock at night, and it is a convenience I would not want for anything in the world, it being, methinks, better than almost any roome in my house. So having supped upon the leads, to bed. The plague, blessed be God! is decreased sixteen this week.
. To the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and in the afternoon to my office again, where very busy all the afternoon and particularly about fitting of Mr. Yeabsly’s accounts for the view of the Lords Commissioners for Tangier. At night home to supper and to bed.
. Up (taking Balty with me, who lay at my house last [night] in order to his going away today to sea with the pursers of the Henery, whom I appointed to call him), abroad to many several places about several businesses, to my Lord Treasurer’s, Westminster, and I know not where. At noon to the ’Change a little, and there bespoke some maps to hang in my new roome (my boy’s roome) which will be very pretty. Home to dinner, and after dinner to the hanging up of maps, and other things for the fitting of the roome, and now it will certainly be one of the handsomest and most useful roomes in my house. So that what with this room and the room on my leads my house is half as good again as it was. All this afternoon about this till I was so weary and it was late I could do no more but finished the room. So I did not get out to the office all the day long. At night spent a good deal of time with my wife and Mercer teaching them a song, and so after supper to bed.
. Up and to the office. At noon dined at home. After dinner abroad with my wife to Hales’s to see only our pictures and Mrs. Pierce’s, which I do not think so fine as I might have expected it. My wife to her father’s, to carry him some ruling work,2828 which I have advised her to let him do. It will get him some money. She also is to look out again for another little girl, the last we had being also gone home the very same day she came. She was also to look after a necklace of pearle, which she is mighty busy about, I being contented to lay out £80 in one for her. I home to my business. By and by comes my wife and presently after, the tide serving, Balty took leave of us, going to sea, and upon very good terms, to be Muster-Master of a squadron, which will be worth £100 this yeare to him, besides keeping him the benefit of his pay in the Guards. He gone, I very busy all the afternoon till night, among other things, writing a letter to my brother John, the first I have done since my being angry with him, and that so sharpe a one too that I was sorry almost to send it when I had wrote it, but it is preparatory to my being kind to him, and sending for him up hither when he hath passed his degree of Master of Arts. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to church, where Mr. Mills, a lazy, simple sermon upon the Devil’s having no right to anything in this world. So home to dinner, and after dinner I and my boy down by water to Redriffe and thence walked to Mr. Evelyn’s, where I walked in his garden till he come from Church, with great pleasure reading Ridly’s2829 discourse, all my way going and coming, upon the Civil and Ecclesiastical Law. He being come home, he and I walked together in the garden with mighty pleasure, he being a very ingenious man; and the more I know him, the more I love him. His chief business with me was to propose having my cousin Thomas Pepys in Commission of the Peace, which I do not know what to say to till I speake with him, but should be glad of it and will put him upon it. Thence walked back again reading and so took water and home, where I find my uncle and aunt Wight, and supped with them upon my leads with mighty pleasure and mirthe, and they being gone I mighty weary to bed, after having my haire of my head cut shorter, even close to my skull, for coolness, it being mighty hot weather.
. Up and, being ready, to finish my journal for four days past. To the office, where busy all the morning. At noon dined alone, my wife gone abroad to conclude about her necklace of pearle. I after dinner to even all my accounts of this month; and, bless God! I find myself, notwithstanding great expenses of late; viz. £80 now to pay for a necklace; near £40 for a set of chairs and couch; near £40 for my three pictures: yet I do gather, and am now worth £5,200. My wife comes home by and by, and hath pitched upon a necklace with three rows, which is a very good one, and £80 is the price. In the evening, having finished my accounts to my full content and joyed that I have evened them so plainly, remembering the trouble my last accounts did give me by being let alone a little longer than ordinary, by which I am to this day at a loss for £50, I hope I shall never commit such an error again, for I cannot devise where the £50 should be, but it is plain I ought to be worth £50 more than I am, and blessed be God the error was no greater. In the evening with my [wife] and Mercer by coach to take the air as far as Bow, and eat and drank in the coach by the way and with much pleasure and pleased with my company. At night home and up to the leads, but were contrary to expectation driven down again with a stinke by Sir W. Penn’s shying of a shitten pot in their house of office close by, which do trouble me for fear it do hereafter annoy me. So down to sing a little and then to bed. So ends this month with great layings-out. Good health and gettings, and advanced well in the whole of my estate, for which God make me thankful.
May 1666
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon, my cousin Thomas Pepys did come to me, to consult about the business of his being a justice of the Peace, which he is much against; and among other reasons, tells me, as a confidant, that he is not free to exercise punishment according to the Act against Quakers and other people, for religion. Nor do he understand Latin, and so is not capable of the place as formerly, now all warrants do run in Latin. Nor is he in Kent, though he be of Deptford parish, his house2830 standing in Surry. However, I did bring him to incline towards it, if he be pressed to take it. I do think it may be some repute to me to have my kinsman in Commission there, specially if he behave himself to content in the country. He gone and my wife gone abroad, I out also to and fro, to see and be seen, among others to find out in Thames Street where Betty Howlett is come to live, being married to Mrs. Michell’s son; which I did about the Old Swan, but did not think fit to go thither or see them. Thence by water to Redriffe, reading a new French book my Lord Brouncker did give me today, L’Histoire Amoureuse des Gaules,2831 being a pretty libel against the amours of the Court of France. I walked up and down Deptford yarde, where I had not been since I come from living at Greenwich, which is some months. There I met with Mr. Castle, and was forced against my will to have his company back with me. So we walked and drank at Halfway house and so to his house, where I drank a cup of syder, and so home, where I find Mr. Norbury newly come to town to see us. After he gone my wife tells me the ill news that our Susan is sicke and gone to bed, with great pain in her head and back, which troubles us all. However we to bed expecting what tomorrow would produce. She hath we conceive wrought a little too much, having neither maid nor girl to help her.
. Up and find the girl better, which we are glad of, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall by coach. There attended the Duke as usual. Thence with Captain Cocke, whom I met there, to London, to my office, to consult about serving him in getting him some money, he being already tired of his slavery to my Lord Brouncker, and the charge it costs him, and gets no manner of courtesy from him for it. He gone I home to dinner, find the girl yet better, so no fear of being forced to send her out of doors as we intended. After dinner. I by water to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier upon Mr. Yeabsly’s business, which I got referred to a Committee to examine. Thence among other stops went to my ruler’s house, and there stayed a great while with Nan idling away the afternoon with pleasure. By and by home, so to my office a little, and then home to supper with my wife, the girl being pretty well again, and then to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home, and contrary to my expectation find my little girl Su worse than she was, which troubled me, and the more to see my wife minding her paynting and not thinking of her house business, this being the first day of her beginning the second time to paynt. This together made me froward that I was angry with my wife, and would not have Browne to think to dine at my table with me always, being desirous to have my house to myself without a stranger and a mechanic to be privy to all my concernments. Upon this my wife and I had a little disagreement, but it ended by and by, and then to send up and down for a nurse to take the girl home and would have given anything. I offered to the only one that we could get 20s. per weeke, and we to find clothes, and bedding and physic, and would have given 30s., as demanded, but desired an houre or two’s time. So I away by water to Westminster, and there sent for the girl’s mother to Westminster Hall to me; she came and undertakes to get her daughter a lodging and nurse at next door to her, though she dare not, for the parish’s sake, whose sexton her husband is, to [have] her into her own house. Thence home, calling at my bookseller’s and other trifling places, and in the evening the mother come and with a nurse she has got, who demanded and I did agree at 10s. per weeke to take her, and so she away, and my house mighty uncouth, having so few in it, and we shall want a servant or two by it, and the truth is my heart was a little sad all the afternoon and jealous of myself. But she went, and we all glad of it, and so a little to the office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and by water to Westminster to Charing Cross (Mr. Gregory for company with me) to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s, who was not within. So I took Gregory to Whitehall, and there spoke with Joseph Williamson to have leave in the next Gazette to have a general pay for the Chest at Chatham declared upon such a day in June. Here I left Gregory, and I by coach back again to Sir Philip Warwicke’s, and in the Park met him walking, so discoursed about the business of striking a quarter’s tallies for Tangier, due this day, which he hath promised to get my Lord Treasurer’s warrant for, and so away hence, and to Mr. Hales, to see what he had done to Mrs. Pierce’s picture, and whatever he pretends, I do not think it will ever be so good a picture as my wife’s. Thence home to the office a little and then to dinner, and had a great fray with my wife again about Browne’s coming to teach her to paynt, and sitting with me at table, which I will not yield to. I do thoroughly believe she means no hurte in it; but very angry we were, and I resolved all into my having my will done, without disputing, be the reason what it will; and so I will have it. After dinner abroad again and to the New Exchange about play books, and to Whitehall, thinking to have met Sir G. Carteret, but failed. So to the Swan at Westminster, and there spent a quarter of an hour with Jane, and thence away home, and my wife coming home by and by (having been at her mother’s to pray her to look out for a maid for her) by coach into the fields to Bow, and so home back in the evening, late home, and after supper to bed, being much out of order for lack of somebody in the room of Su. This evening, being weary of my late idle courses, and the little good I shall do the King or myself in the office, I bound myself to very strict rules till Whitsunday next.
. At the office all the morning. After dinner upon a letter from the fleet from Sir W. Coventry I did do a great deal of worke for the sending away of the victuallers that are in the river, etc., too much to remember. Till 10 at night busy about letters and other necessary matter of the office. About 11 home, it being a fine moonshine and so my wife and Mercer come into the garden, and, my business being done, we sang till about twelve at night, with mighty pleasure to ourselves and neighbours, by their casements opening, and so home to supper and to bed.
. To church. Home, and after dinner walked to Whitehall, thinking to have seen Mr. Coventry, but failed, and therefore walked clear on foot back again. Busy till night in fitting my Victualling papers in order, which I through my multitude of business and pleasure have not examined these several months. Walked back again home, and so to the Victualling Office, where I met Mr. Gawden, and have received some satisfaction, though it be short of what I expected, and what might be expected from me. So after evened I have gone, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes to set my Victualling papers in order against Sir W. Coventry comes, which indeed makes me very melancholy, being conscious that I am much to seeke in giving a good answer to his queries about the Victualling business. At the office mighty busy, and brought myself into a pretty plausible condition before Sir W. Coventry come, and did give him a pretty tolerable account of everything and went with him into the Victualling office, where we sat and examined his businesses and state of the victualling of the fleet, which made me in my heart blushe that I could say no more to it than I did or could. But I trust in God I shall never be in that condition again. We parted, and I with pretty good grace, and so home to dinner, where my wife troubled more and more with her swollen cheek. So to dinner, my sister-in-law with us, who I find more and more a witty woman; and then I to my Lord Treasurer’s and the Exchequer about my Tangier businesses, and with my content passed by all things and persons without so much as desiring any stay or loss of time with them, being by strong vowe obliged on no occasion to stay abroad but my public offices. So home again, where I find Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Ferrers come to see my wife. I stayed a little with them, being full of business, and so to the office, where busy till late at night and so weary and a little conscious of my failures today, yet proud that the day is over without more observation on Sir W. Coventry’s part, and so to bed and to sleepe soundly.
. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon dined at home, my wife’s cheek bad still. After dinner to the office again and thither comes Mr. Downing,2832 the anchor-smith, who had given me 50 pieces in gold the last month to speake for him to Sir W. Coventry, for his being smith at Deptford; but after I had got it granted to him, he finds himself not fit to go on with it, so lets it fall. So has no benefit of my motion. I therefore in honour and conscience took him home the money, and, though much to my grief, did yet willingly and forcibly force him to take it again, the poor man having no mind to have it. However, I made him take it, and away he went, and I glad to have given him so much cause to speake well of me. So to my office again late, and then home to supper to a good lobster with my wife, and then a little to my office again, and so to bed.
. Up by five o’clock, which I have not a long time done, and down the river by water to Deptford, among other things to examine the state of Ironworke, in order to the doing something with reference to Downing that may induce him to returne me the 50 pieces. Walked back again reading of my Civil Law Book, and so home and by coach to Whitehall, where we did our usual business before the Duke, and heard the Duke commend Deane’s ship The Rupert before The Defiance, built lately by Castle, in hearing of Sir W. Batten, which pleased me mightily. Thence by water to Westminster, and there looked after my Tangier order, and so by coach to Mrs. Pierce’s, thinking to have gone to Hales’s, but she was not ready, so away home and to dinner, and after dinner out by coach to Lovett’s to have forwarded what I have doing there, but find him and his pretty wife gone to my house to show me something. So away to my Lord Treasurer’s, and thence to Pierce’s, where I find Knipp, and I took them to Hales’s to see our pictures finished, which are very pretty, but I like not hers half so well as I thought at first, it being not so like, nor so well painted as I expected, or as mine and my wife’s are. Thence with them to Cornhill to call and choose a chimneypiece for Pierce’s closet, and so home, where my wife in mighty pain and mightily vexed at my being abroad with these women; and when they were gone called them whores and I know not what, which vexed me, having been so innocent with them. So I with them to Mrs. Turner’s and there sat with them a while, anon my wife sends for me, I come, and what was it but to scold at me and she would go abroad to take the air presently, that she would. So I left my company and went with her to Bow, but was vexed and spoke not one word to her all the way going nor coming, or being come home, but went up straight to bed. Half an hour after (she in the coach leaning on me as being desirous to be friends) she comes up mighty sicke with a fit of the colic and in mighty pain and calls for me out of the bed; I rose and held her, she prays me to forgive her, and in mighty pain we put her to bed, where the pain ceased by and by, and so had some asparagus to our bed side for supper and very kindly afterward to sleepe and good friends in the morning.
. So up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner and there busy all the afternoon till past six o’clock, and then abroad with my wife by coach, who is now at great ease, her cheeke being broke inward. We took with us Mrs. Turner, who was come to visit my wife just as we were going out. A great deal of tittle tattle discourse to little purpose, I finding her, though in other things a very discreete woman, as very a gossip speaking of her neighbours as anybody. Going out towards Hackney by coach for the air, the silly coachman carries us to Shoreditch, which was so pleasant a piece of simplicity in him and us, that made us mighty merry. So back again late, it being wondrous hot all the day and night and it lightning exceeding all the way we went and came, but without thunder. Coming home we called at a little alehouse, and had an eele pie, of which my wife eat part and brought home the rest. So being come home we to supper and to bed. This day come our new cook-maid Mary, commended by Mrs. Batters.
. Up betimes, and then away with Mr. Yeabsly to my Lord Ashly’s, whither by and by comes Sir H. Cholmly and Creed, and then to my Lord, and there entered into examination of Mr. Yeabsly’s accounts, wherein as in all other things I find him one of the most distinct men that ever I did see in my life. He raised many scruples which were to be answered another day and so parted, giving me an alarme how to provide myself against the day of my passing my accounts. Thence I to Westminster to look after the striking of my tallies, but nothing done or to be done therein. So to the ’Change, to speake with Captain Cocke, among other things about getting of the silver plates2833 of him, which he promises to do; but in discourse he tells me that I should beware of my fellow-officers; and by name told me that my Lord Brouncker should say in his hearing, before Sir W. Batten, of me, that he could undo the man, if he would; wherein I think he is a foole; but, however, it is requisite I be prepared against the man’s friendship. Thence home to dinner alone, my wife being abroad. After dinner to the setting some things in order in my dining room; and by and by comes my wife home and Mrs. Pierce with her, so I lost most of this afternoon with them, and in the evening abroad with them, our long tour by coach, to Hackney, so to Kingsland, and then to Islington, there entertaining them by candlelight very well, and so home with her, set her down, and so home and to bed.
. Up to the office very betimes to draw up a letter for the Duke of York relating to him the badness of our condition in this office for want of money. That being in good time done we met at the office and there sat all the morning. At noon home, where I find my wife troubled still at my checking her last night in the coach in her long stories out of Grand Cyrus, which she would tell, though nothing to the purpose, nor in any good manner.2834 This she took unkindly, and I think I was to blame indeed; but she do find with reason, that in the company of Pierce, Knipp, or other women that I love, I do not value her, or mind her as I ought. However very good friends by and by, and to dinner, and after dinner up to the putting our dining room in order, which will be clean again anon, but not as it is to be because of the pictures which are not come home. To the office and did much business, in the evening to Westminster and Whitehall about business and among other things met Sir G. Downing on Whitehall Bridge, and there walked half an hour, talking of the success of the late new Act; and indeed it is very much, that that hath stood really in the room of £800,0002835 now since Christmas, being itself but £1,250,000. And so I do really take it to be a very considerable thing done by him; for the beginning, end, and every part of it, is to be imputed to him. So home by water, and there hard till 12 at night at work finishing the great letter to the Duke of York against tomorrow morning, and so home to bed. This day come home again my little girl Susan, her sickness proving an ague, and she had a fit soon almost as she come home. The fleet is not yet gone from the Nore. The plague increases in many places, and is 53 this week with us.
. Up, and walked to Whitehall, where we all met to present a letter to the Duke of York, complaining solemnly of the want of money, and that being done, I to and again up and down Westminster, thinking to have spent a little time with Sarah at the Swan, or Mrs. Martin, but was disappointed in both, so walked the greatest part of the way home, where comes Mr. Symons, my old acquaintance, to dine with me, and I made myself as good company as I could to him, but he was mighty impertinent methought too yet, and thereby I see the difference between myself now and what it was heretofore, when I reckoned him a very brave fellow. After dinner he and I walked together as far as Cheapside, and I quite through to Westminster again, and fell by chance into St. Margett’s2836 Church, where I heard a young man play the foole upon the doctrine of purgatory. At this church I spied Betty Howlett, who indeed is mighty pretty, and struck me mightily. After church time, standing in the Church yarde, she spied me, so I went to her, her father and mother and husband being with her. They desired and I agreed to go home with Mr. Michell, and there had the opportunity to have saluted two or three times Betty and make an acquaintance which they are pleased with, though not so much as I am or they think I am. I stayed here an houre or more chatting with them in a little sorry garden of theirs by the Bowling Alley, and so left them and I by water home, and there was in great pain in mind lest Sir W. Penn, who is going down to the Fleet, should come to me or send for me to be informed in the state of things, and particularly the Victualling, that by my pains he might seem wise. So after spending an houre with my wife pleasantly in her closet, I to bed even by daylight.
. Comes betimes a letter from Sir W. Coventry, that he and Sir G. Carteret are ordered presently down to the Fleet. I up and saw Sir W. Penn gone also after them, and so I finding it a leisure day fell to making cleane my closet in my office, which I did to my content and set up my Plats again, being much taken also with Griffin’s maid, that did clean it, being a pretty maid. I left her at it, and toward Westminster myself with my wife by coach and meeting took up Mr. Lovett the varnisher with us, who is a pleasant speaking and humoured man, so my wife much taken with him, and a good deal of worke I believe I shall procure him. I left my wife at the New Exchange and myself to the Exchequer, to looke after my Tangier tallies, and there met Sir G. Downing, who showed me his present practise now begun this day to paste up upon the Exchequer door a note of what orders upon the new Act are paid and now in paying, and my Lord of Oxford coming by, also took him, and showed him his whole method of keeping his books, and everything of it, which indeed is very pretty, and at this day there is assigned upon the Act £804,000. Thence at the New Exchange took up my wife again, and so home to dinner, and after dinner to my office again to set things in order. In the evening out with my wife and my aunt Wight, to take the air, and happened to have a pleasant race between our hackney-coach and a gentleman’s. At Bow we eat and drank and so back again, it being very cool in the evening. Having set home my aunt and come home, I fell to examine my wife’s kitchen book, and find 20s. mistake, which made me mighty angry and great difference between us, and so in the difference to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we met and sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner by coach to Sir Philip Warwicke’s, he having sent for me, but was not within, so I to my Lord Crew’s, who is very lately come to town, and with him talking half an houre of the business of the war, wherein he is very doubtful, from our want of money, that we shall fail. And I do concur with him therein. After some little discourse of ordinary matters, I away to Sir Philip Warwicke’s again, and was come in, and gone out to my Lord Treasurer’s; whither I followed him, and there my business was, to be told that my Lord Treasurer hath got £10,000 for us in the Navy, to answer our great necessities, which I did thank him for; but the sum is not considerable. So home, and there busy all the afternoon till night, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up very betimes, and so down the river to Deptford to look after some business, being by and by to attend the Duke and Mr. Coventry, and so I was wiling to carry something fresh that I may look as a man minding business, which I have done too much for a great while to forfeit, and is now so great a burden upon my mind night and day that I do not enjoy myself in the world almost. I walked thither, and come back again by water, and so to Whitehall, and did our usual business before the Duke, and so to the Exchequer, where the lazy rogues have not yet done my tallies, which vexes me. Thence to Mr. Hales, and paid him for my picture, and Mr. Hill’s, for the first £14 for the picture, and 25s. for the frame, and for the other £7 for the picture, it being a copy of his only, and 5s. for the frame; in all, £22 10s. I am very well satisfied in my pictures, and so took them in another coach home along with me, and there with great pleasure my wife and I hung them up, and, that being done, to dinner, where Mrs. Barbara Sheldon come to see us and dined with us, and we kept her all the day with us, I going down to Deptford, and, Lord! to see with what itching desire I did endeavour to see Bagwell’s wife, but failed, for which I am glad, only I observe the folly of my mind that cannot refrain from pleasure at a season above all others in my life requisite for me to show my utmost care in. I walked both going and coming, spending my time reading of my Civil and Ecclesiastical Law book. Being returned home, I took my wife and Mrs. Barbary and Mercer out by coach and went our Grand Tour, and baited at Islington, and so late home about 11 at night, and so with much pleasure to bed.
. Up, lying long, being wearied yesterday with long walking. So to the office, where all the morning with fresh occasion of vexing at myself for my late neglect of business, by which I cannot appear half so useful as I used to do. Home at noon to dinner, and then to my office again, where I could not hold my eyes open for an houre, but I drowsed (so little sensible I apprehend my soul is of the necessity of minding business), but I anon wakened and minded my business, and did a great deal with very great pleasure, and so home at night to supper and to bed, mightily pleased with myself for the business that I have done, and convinced that if I would but keepe constantly to do the same I might have leisure enough and yet do all my business, and by the grace of God so I will. So to bed.
. Up by 5 o’clock, and so down by water to Deptford and Blackewall to dispatch some business. So walked to Dickeshoare,2837 and there took boat again and home, and thence to Westminster, and attended all the morning on the Exchequer for a quarter’s tallies for Tangier. But, Lord! to see what a dull, heavy sort of people they are there would make a man mad. At noon had them and carried them home, and there dined with great content with my people, and within and at the office all the afternoon and night, and so home to settle some papers there, and so to bed, being not very well, having eaten too much lobster at noon at dinner with Mr. Hollyard, he coming in and commending it so much.
. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon took Mr. Deane (lately come to town) home with me to dinner, and there after giving him some reprimands and good advice about his deportment in the place where by my interest he is at Harwich, and then declaring my resolution of being his friend still, we did then fall to discourse about his ship Rupert, built by him there, which succeeds so well as he hath got great honour by it, and I some by recommending him; the King, Duke, and everybody saying it is the best ship that was ever built. And then he fell to explain to me his manner of casting the draught of water which a ship will draw beforehand: which is a secret the King and all admire in him; and he is the first that hath come to any certainty beforehand, of foretelling the draught of water of a ship before she be launched. I must confess I am much pleased in his success in this business, and do admire at the confidence of Castle who did undervalue the draught Deane sent up to me, that I was ashamed to own it or him, Castle asking of me upon the first sight of it whether he that laid it down had ever built a ship or no, which made me the more doubtful of him. He being gone, I to the office, where much business and many persons to speake with me. Late home and to bed, glad to be at a little quiet.
. With my wife to church in the morning. At noon dined mighty nobly, ourselves alone. After dinner my wife and Mercer by coach to Greenwich, to be gossip to Mrs. Daniel’s child. I out to Westminster, and straight to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did what I would with her, she staying at home all the day for me; and not being well pleased with her over free and loose company, I away to Westminster Abbey, and there fell in discourse with Mr. Blagrave, whom I find a sober politic man, that gets money and increase of places, and thence by coach home, and thence by water after I had discoursed awhile with Mr. Yeabsly, whom I met and took up in my coach with me, and who hath this day presented my Lord Ashly with £100 to bespeak his friendship to him in his accounts now before us; and my Lord hath received it, and so I believe is as bad, as to bribes, as what the world says of him. Calling on all the Victualling ships to know what they had of their complements, and so to Deptford, to enquire after a little business there, and thence by water back again, all the way coming and going reading my Lord Bacon’s Faber Fortunæ, which I can never read too often, and so back home, and there find my wife come home, much pleased with the reception she had there, and she was godmother, and did hold the child at the Font, and it is called John. So back again home, and after setting my papers in order and supping, to bed, desirous to rise betimes in the morning.
. Up between 4 and 5 o’clock and to set several papers to rights, and so to the office, where we had an extraordinary meeting. But, Lord! how it torments me to find myself so unable to give an account of my Victualling business, which puts me out of heart in everything else, so that I never had a greater shame upon me in my own mind, nor more trouble as to public business than I have now, but I will get out of it as soon as possibly I can. At noon dined at home, and after dinner comes in my wife’s brother Balty and his wife, he being stepped ashore from the fleet for a day or two. I away in some haste to my Lord Ashly, where it is stupendous to see how favourably, and yet closely, my Lord Ashly carries himself to Mr. Yeabsly, in his business, so as I think we shall do his business for him in very good manner. But it is a most extraordinary thing to observe, and that which I would not but have had the observation of for a great deal of money. Being done there, and much forwarded Yeabsly’s business, I with Sir H. Cholmly to my Lord Bellassis, who is lately come from Tangier to visit him, but is not within. So to Westminster Hall a little about business and so home by water, and then out with my wife, her brother, sister, and Mercer to Islington, our grand tour, and there eat and drank. But in discourse I am infinitely pleased with Balty, his deportment in his business of Muster-Master, and hope mighty well from him, and am glad with all my heart I put him into this business. Late home and to bed, they also lying at my house, he intending to go away tomorrow back again to sea.
. Up betimes and to my business of entering some Tangier payments in my book in order, and then to the office, where very busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, Balty being gone back to sea and his wife dining with us, whom afterward my wife carried home. I after dinner to the office, and anon out on several occasions, among others to Lovett’s, and there stayed by him and her and saw them (in their poor conditioned manner) lay on their varnish, which however pleased me mightily to see. Thence home to my business writing letters, and so at night home to supper and to bed.
. Up by 5 o’clock and to my chamber settling several matters in order. So out toward Whitehall, calling in my way on my Lord Bellassis, where I come to his bedside, and did give me a full and long account of his matters, how he left them at Tangier. Declares himself fully satisfied with my care: seems cunningly to argue for increasing the number of men there. Told me the whole story of his gains by the Turky prizes, which he owns he hath got about £5,000 by. Promised me the same profits Povy was to have had; and in fine, I find him a pretty subtle man; and so I left him, and to Whitehall before the Duke and did our usual business, and eased my mind of two or three things of weight that lay upon me about Lanyon’s salary, which I have got to be £150 per annum. Thence to Westminster to look after getting some little for some great tallies, but shall find trouble in it. Thence homeward and met with Sir Philip Warwicke, and spoke about this, in which he is scrupulous. After that to talk of the wants of the Navy. He lays all the fault now upon the new Act, and owns his own folly in thinking once so well of it as to give way to others’ endeavours about it, and is grieved at heart to see what passe things are like to come to. Thence to the Excise Office to the Commissioners to get a meeting between them and myself and others about our concernments in the Excise for Tangier, and so to the ’Change awhile, and thence home with Creed, and find my wife at dinner with Mr. Cooke, who is going down to Hinchinbrooke. After dinner Creed and I and wife and Mercer out by coach, leaving them at the New Exchange, while I to Whitehall, and there stayed at Sir G. Carteret’s chamber till the Council rose, and then he and I, by agreement this morning, went forth in his coach by Tiburne, to the Park; discoursing of the state of the Navy as to money, and the state of the Kingdom too, how ill able to raise more: and of our office as to the condition of the officers; he giving me caution as to myself, that there are those that are my enemies as well as his, and by name my Lord Brouncker, who hath said some odd speeches against me. So that he advises me to stand on my guard; which I shall do, and unless my too-much addiction to pleasure undo me, will be acute enough for any of them. We rode to and again in the Park a good while, and at last home and set me down at Charing Crosse, and thence I to Mrs. Pierce’s to take up my wife and Mercer, where I find her new picture by Hales do not please her, nor me indeed, it making no show, nor is very like, nor no good painting. Home to supper and to bed, having my right eye sore and full of humour of late, I think, by my late change of my brewer, and having of 8s. beer.
. Up very betimes, and did much business in my chamber. Then to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon rose in the pleasantest humour I have seen Sir W. Coventry and the whole board in this twelvemonth from a pleasant crossing humour Sir W. Batten was in, he being hungry, and desirous to be gone. Home, and Mr. Hunt come to dine with me, but I was prevented dining till 4 o’clock by Sir H. Cholmly and Sir J. Bankes’s coming in about some Tangier business. They gone I to dinner, the others having dined. Mr. Sheply is also newly come out of the country and come to see us, whom I am glad to see. He left all well there; but I perceive under some discontent in my Lord’s behalfe, thinking that he is under disgrace with the King; but he is not so at all, as Sir G. Carteret assures me. They gone I to the office and did business, and so in the evening abroad alone with my wife to Kingsland, and so back again and to bed, my right eye continuing very ill of the rheum, which hath troubled it four or five days.
. Up betimes and to my chamber to do business, where the greatest part of the morning. Then out to the ’Change to speake with Captain [Cocke], who tells me my silver plates are ready for me, and shall be sent me speedily; and proposes another proposition of serving us with a thousand tons of hemp, and tells me it shall bring me £500, if the bargain go forward, which is a good word. Thence to Sir G. Carteret, who is at the pay of the tickets with Sir J. Minnes this day, and here I sat with them a while, the first time I ever was there, and thence to dinner with him, a good dinner. Here come a gentleman over from France arrived here this day, Mr. Browne of St. Mellos, who, among other things, tells me the meaning of the setting out of dogs every night out of the town walls, which are said to secure the city; but it is not so, but only to secure the anchors, cables, and ships that lie dry, which might otherwise in the night be liable to be robbed. And these dogs are set out every night, and called together in every morning by a man with a home, and they go in very orderly. Thence home, and there find Knipp at dinner with my wife, now very big, and within a fortnight of lying down. But my head was full of business and so could have no sport. So I left them, promising to return and take them out at night, and so to the Excise Office, where a meeting was appointed of Sir Stephen Fox, the Cofferer, and myself, to settle the business of our tallies, and it was so pretty well against another meeting. Thence away home to the office and out again to Captain Cocke (Mr. Moore for company walking with me and discoursing and admiring of the learning of Dr. Spencer), and there he and I discoursed a little more of our matters, and so home, and (Knipp being gone) took out my wife and Mercer to take the air a little, and so as far as Hackney and back again, and then to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home. So to the office again, and a while at the Victualling Office to understand matters there a little, and thence to the office and despatched much business, to my great content, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Rose betimes, and to my office till church time to write two copies of my Will fair, bearing date this day, wherein I have given my sister Pall £500, my father for his own and my mother’s support £2,000, to my wife the rest of my estate, but to have £2,500 secured to her, though by deducting out of what I have given my father and my sister. I dispatched all before church time and then to church, my wife with me. Thence home to dinner, whither come my uncle Wight, and aunt and uncle Norbury, and Mr. Shepley. A good dinner and very merry. After dinner we broke up and I by water to Westminster to Mrs. Martin’s, and there sat with her and her husband and Mrs. Burrows, the pretty, an hour or two, then to the Swan a while, and so home by water, and with my wife by and by by water as low as Greenwich, for air only, and so back again home to supper and to bed with great pleasure.
. Up and to my chamber to do some business there, and then to the office, where a while, and then by agreement to the Excise Office, where I waited all the morning for the Cofferer and Sir St. Foxe’s coming, but they did not, so I and the Commissioners lost their labour and expectation of doing the business we intended. Thence home, where I find Mr. Lovett and his wife came to see us. They are a pretty couple, and she a fine bred woman. They dined with us, and Browne, the paynter, and she plays finely on the lute. My wife and I were well pleased with her company. After dinner broke up, I to the office and they abroad. All the afternoon I busy at the office, and down by water to Deptford. Walked back to Redriffe, and so home to the office again, being thoughtful how to answer Sir W. Coventry against tomorrow in the business of the Victualling, but that I do trust to Tom Wilson, that he will be ready with a book for me tomorrow morning. So to bed, my wife telling me where she hath been today with my aunt Wight, and seen Mrs. Margaret Wight, and says that she is one of the beautifullest women that ever she saw in her life, the most excellent nose and mouth. They have been also to see pretty Mrs. Batelier, and conclude her to be a prettier woman than Mrs. Pierce, whom my wife led my aunt to see also this day.
. Waked with the ringing of the bells all over the town; so up before five o’clock, and to the office, where we met, and I all the morning with great trouble upon my spirit to think how I should come off in the afternoon when Sir W. Coventry did go to the Victualling office to see the state of matters there, and methinks by his doing of it without speaking to me, and only with Sir W. Penn, it must be of design to find my negligence. However, at noon I did, upon a small invitation of Sir W. Penn’s, go and dine with Sir W. Coventry at his office, where great good cheer and many pleasant stories of Sir W. Coventry; but I had no pleasure in them. However, I had last night and this morning made myself a little able to report how matters were, and did readily go with them after dinner to the Victualling office; and there, beyond belief, did acquit myself very well to full content; so that, beyond expectation, I got over this second rub in this business; and if ever I fall on it again, I deserve to be undone. Being broke up there, I with a merry heart home to my office, and thither my wife comes to me, to tell me, that if I would see the handsomest woman in England, I shall come home presently; and who should it be but the pretty lady of our parish, that did heretofore sit on the other side of our church, over against our gallery, that is since married; she with Mrs. Anne Jones, one of this parish, that dances finely, and Mrs. sister did come to see her this afternoon, and so I home and there find Creed also come to me. So there I spent most of the afternoon with them, and indeed she is a pretty black woman, her name Mrs. Horsely. But, Lord! to see how my nature could not refrain from the temptation; but I must invite them to Foxhall, to Spring Gardens, though I had freshly received minutes of a great deal of extraordinary business. However I could not help it, but sent them before with Creed, and I did some of my business; and so after them, and find them there, in an arbour, and had met with Mrs. Pierce, and some company with her. So here I spent 20s. upon them, and were pretty merry. Among other things, had a fellow that imitated all manner of birds, and dogs, and hogs, with his voice, which was mighty pleasant. Stayed here till night: then set Mrs. Pierce in at the New Exchange; and ourselves took coach, and so set Mrs. Horsely home, and then home ourselves, but with great trouble in the streets by bonefires, it being the King’s birthday and day of Restauration; but, Lord! to see the difference how many there were on the other side, and so few ours, the City side of the Temple, would make one wonder the difference between the temper of one sort of people and the other: and the difference among all between what they do now, and what it was the night when Monk come into the City. Such a night as that I never think to see again, nor think it can be. After I come home I was till one in the morning with Captain Cocke drawing up a contract with him intended to be offered to the Duke tomorrow, which, if it proceeds, he promises me £500.
. Up and to my office, there to settle some business in order to our waiting on the Duke today. That done to Whitehall to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, where I find the Duke gone out with the King today on hunting. So after some discourse with him, I by water to Westminster, and there drew a draught of an order for my Lord Treasurer to sign for my having some little tallies made me in lieu of two great ones, of £2,000 each, to enable me to pay small sums therewith. I showed it to Sir R. Long and had his approbation, and so to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s, and did give it him to get signed. So home to my office, and there did business. By and by toward noon word is brought me that my father and my sister are come. I expected them today, but not so soon. I to them, and am heartily glad to see them, especially my father, who, poor man, looks very well, and hath rode up this journey on horseback very well, only his eyesight and hearing is very bad. I stayed and dined with them, my wife being gone by coach to Barnet, with W. Hewer and Mercer, to meet them, and they did come Ware way. After dinner I left them to dress themselves and I abroad by appointment to my Lord Ashly, who, it is strange to see, how prettily he dissembles his favour to Yeabsly’s business, which none in the world could mistrust only I, that am privy to his being bribed. Thence to Whitehall, and there stayed till the Council was up, with Creed expecting a meeting of Tangier to end Yeabsly’s business, but we could not procure it. So I to my Lord Treasurer’s and got my warrant, and then to Lovett’s, but find nothing done there. So home and did a little business at the office, and so down by water to Deptford and back again home late, and having signed some papers and given order in business, home, where my wife is come home, and so to supper with my father, and mighty pleasant we were, and my wife mighty kind to him and Pall, and so after supper to bed, myself being sleepy, and my right eye still very sore, as it has been now about five days or six, which puts me out of tune. Tonight my wife tells me news has been brought her that Balty’s wife is brought to bed, by some fall or fit, before her time, of a great child but dead. If the woman do well we have no reason to be sorry, because his staying a little longer without a child will be better for him and her.
. Waked very betimes in the morning by extraordinary thunder and rain, which did keep me sleeping and waking till very late, and it being a holiday and my eye very sore, and myself having had very little sleep for a good while till nine o’clock, and so up, and so saw all my family up, and my father and sister, who is a pretty good-bodied woman, and not over thick, as I thought she would have been, but full of freckles, and not handsome in face. And so I out by water among the ships, and to Deptford and Blackewall about business, and so home and to dinner with my father and sister and family, mighty pleasant all of us; and, among other things, with a sparrow that our Mercer hath brought up now for three weeks, which is so tame that it flies up and down, and upon the table, and eats and pecks, and do everything so pleasantly, that we are mightily pleased with it. After dinner I to my papers and accounts of this month to set all straight, it being a public Fast-day appointed to pray for the good success of the fleet. But it is a pretty thing to consider how little a matter they make of this keeping of a Fast, that it was not so much as declared time enough to be read in the churches the last Sunday; but ordered by proclamation since: I suppose upon some sudden news of the Dutch being come out. To my accounts and settled them clear; but to my grief find myself poorer than I was the last by near £20, by reason of my being forced to return £50 to Downing, the smith, which he had presented me with. However, I am well contented, finding myself yet to be worth £5,200. Having done, to supper with my wife, and then to finish the writing fair of my accounts, and so to bed. This day come to town Mr. Homewood, and I took him home in the evening to my chamber, and discoursed with him about my business of the Victualling, which I have a mind to employ him in, and he is desirous of also, but do very ingenuously declare he understands it not so well as other things, and desires to be informed in the nature of it before he attempts it, which I like well, and so I carried him to Mr. Gibson to discourse with him about it, and so home again to my accounts.2838 Thus ends this month, with my mind oppressed by my defect in my duty of the Victualling, which lies upon me as a burden, till I get myself into a better posture therein, and hinders me and casts down my courage in everything else that belongs to me, and the jealousy I have of Sir W. Coventry’s being displeased with me about it; but I hope in a little time to remedy all. As to public business; by late tidings of the French fleet being come to Rochelle (how true, though, I know not) our fleet is divided; Prince Rupert being gone with about thirty ships to the Westward as is conceived to meet the French, to hinder their coming to join with the Dutch. My Lord Duke of Albemarle lies in the Downs with the rest, and intends presently to sail to the Gunfleete.
June 1666
. Being prevented yesterday in meeting by reason of the fast day, we met today all the morning. At noon I and my father, wife and sister, dined at Aunt Wight’s here hard by at Mr. Woolly’s, upon sudden warning, they being to go out of town tomorrow. Here dined the faire Mrs. Margaret Wight, who is a very fine lady, but the cast of her eye, got only by an ill habit, do her much wrong and her hands are bad; but she hath the face of a noble Roman lady. After dinner my uncle and Woolly and I out into their yarde, to talk about what may be done hereafter to all our profits by prize-goods, which did give us reason to lament the losse of the opportunity of the last yeare, which, if we were as wise as we are now, and at the peaceable end of all those troubles that we met with, all might have been such a hit as will never come again in this age, and so I do really believe it. Thence home to my office and there did much business, and at night home to my father to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where certain news is brought us of a letter come to the King this morning from the Duke of Albemarle, dated yesterday at eleven o’clock, as they were sailing to the Gunfleete, that they were in sight of the Dutch fleet, and were fitting themselves to fight them; so that they are, ere this, certainly engaged; besides, several do averr they heard the guns all yesterday in the afternoon. This put us at the Board into a tosse. Presently come orders for our sending away to the fleet a recruite of 200 soldiers. So I rose from the table, and to the Victualling office, and thence upon the River among several vessels, to consider of the sending them away; and lastly, down to Greenwich, and there appointed two yachts to be ready for them; and did order the soldiers to march to Blackewall. Having set all things in order against the next flood, I went on shore with Captain Erwin at Greenwich, and into the Park, and there we could hear the guns from the fleet most plainly. Thence he and I to the King’s Head and there bespoke a dish of steaks for our dinner about four o’clock. While that was doing, we walked to the waterside, and there seeing the King and Duke come down in their barge to Greenwich-house, I to them, and did give them an account [of] what I was doing. They went up to the Park to hear the guns of the fleet go off. All our hopes now are that Prince Rupert with his fleet is coming back and will be with the fleet this even: a message being sent to him to that purpose on Wednesday last; and a return is come from him this morning, that he did intend to sail from St. Ellen’s point about four in the afternoon on Wednesday [Friday], which was yesterday; which gives us great hopes, the wind being very fair, that he is with them this even, and the fresh going off of the guns makes us believe the same. After dinner, having nothing else to do till flood, I went and saw Mrs. Daniel, to whom I did not tell that the fleets were engaged, because of her husband, who is in the R. Charles. Very pleasant with her half an hour, and so away and down to Blackewall, and there saw the soldiers (who were by this time gotten most of them drunk) shipped off. But, Lord! to see how the poor fellows kissed their wives and sweethearts in that simple manner at their going off, and shouted, and let off their guns, was strange sport. In the evening come up the River the Katharine yacht, Captain Fazeby, who hath brought over my Lord of Alesbury2839 and Sir Thomas Liddall2840 (with a very pretty daughter, and in a pretty travelling-dress) from Flanders, who saw the Dutch fleet on Thursday, and ran from them; but from that houre to this hath not heard one gun, nor any news of any fight. Having put the soldiers on board, I home and wrote what I had to write by the post, and so home to supper and to bed, it being late.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there met with Mr. Coventry, who tells me the only news from the fleet is brought by Captain Elliott, of The Portland, which, by being run on board by The Guernsey, was disabled from staying abroad; so is come in to Aldbrough. That he saw one of the Dutch great ships blown up, and three on fire. That they begun to fight on Friday; and at his coming into port, he could make another ship of the King’s coming in, which he judged to be the Rupert: that he knows of no other hurt to our ships. With this good news I home by water again, and to church in the sermon-time, and with great joy told it my fellows in the pew. So home after church time to dinner, and after dinner my father, wife, sister, and Mercer by water to Woolwich, while I walked by land, and saw the Exchange as full of people, and hath been all this noon as of any other day, only for news. I to St. Margaret’s, Westminster, and there saw at church my pretty Betty Michell, and thence to the Abbey, and so to Mrs. Martin, and there did what je voudrais avec her. … So by and by he come in, and after some discourse with him I away to Whitehall, and there met with this bad news farther, that the Prince come to Dover but at ten o’clock last night, and there heard nothing of a fight; so that we are defeated of all our hopes of his help to the fleet. It is also reported by some Victuallers that the Duke of Albemarle and Holmes their flags were shot down, and both fain to come to anchor to renew their rigging and sails. A letter is also come this afternoon, from Harman in the Henery; which is she [that] was taken by Elliott for the Rupert; that being fallen into the body of the Dutch fleet, he made his way through them, was set on by three fire-ships one after another, got two of them off, and disabled the third; was set on fire himself; upon which many of his men leapt into the sea and perished; among others, the parson first. Have lost above 100 men, and a good many women (God knows what is become of Balty), and at last quenched his own fire and got to Aldbrough; being, as all say, the greatest hazard that ever any ship escaped, and as bravely managed by him. The mast of the third fire-ship fell into their ship on fire, and hurt Harman’s leg, which makes him lame now, but not dangerous. I to Sir G. Carteret, who told me there hath been great bad management in all this; that the King’s orders that went on Friday for calling back the Prince, were sent but by the ordinary post on Wednesday; and come to the Prince his hands but on Friday; and then, instead of sailing presently, he stays till four in the evening. And that which is worst of all, the Hampshire, laden with merchants’ money, come from the Straights, set out with or but just before the fleet, and was in the Downs by five in the clock yesterday morning; and the Prince with his fleet come to Dover but at ten of the clock at night. This is hard to answer, if it be true. This puts great astonishment into the King, and Duke, and Court, everybody being out of countenance. So meeting Creed, he and I by coach to Hide Park alone to talk of these things, and do bless God that my Lord Sandwich was not here at this time to be concerned in a business like to be so misfortunate. It was a pleasant thing to consider how fearful I was of being seen with Creed all this afternoon, for fear of people’s thinking that by our relation to my Lord Sandwich we should be making ill construction of the Prince’s failure. But, God knows, I am heartily sorry for the sake of the whole nation, though, if it were not for that, it would not be amisse to have these high blades find some checke to their presumption and their disparaging of as good men. Thence set him down in Covent Guarden and so home by the ’Change, which is full of people still, and all talk highly of the failure of the Prince in not making more haste after his instructions did come, and of our managements here in not giving it sooner and with more care and oftener. Thence. After supper to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Penn to Whitehall in the latter’s coach, where, when we come, we find the Duke at St. James’s, whither he is lately gone to lodge. So walking through the Park we saw hundreds of people listening at the Gravel-pits2841 and to and again in the Park to hear the guns, and I saw a letter, dated last night, from Strowd, Governor of Dover Castle, which says that the Prince come thither the night before with his fleet, but that for the guns which we writ that we heard, it is only a mistake for thunder;2842 and so far as to yesterday it is a miraculous thing that we all Friday, and Saturday and yesterday, did hear everywhere most plainly the guns go off, and yet at Deale and Dover to last night they did not hear one word of a fight, nor think they heard one gun. This, added to what I have set down before the other day about the Katharine, makes room for a great dispute in philosophy, how we should hear it and they not, the same wind that brought it to us being the same that should bring it to them: but so it is. Major Halsey, however (he was sent down on purpose to hear news), did bring news this morning that he did see the Prince and his fleet at nine of the clock yesterday morning, four or five leagues to sea behind the Goodwin, so that by the hearing of the guns this morning we conclude he is come to the fleet. After wayting upon the Duke, Sir W. Penn (who was commanded to go tonight by water down to Harwich, to dispatch away all the ships he can) and I home, drinking two bottles of Cocke ale in the street in his new fine coach, where no sooner come, but news is brought me of a couple of men come to speak with me from the fleet; so I down, and who should it be but Mr. Daniel, all muffled up, and his face as black as the chimney, and covered with dirt, pitch, and tar, and powder, and muffled with dirty clouts, and his right eye stopped with okum. He is come last night at five o’clock from the fleet, with a comrade of his that hath endangered another eye. They were set on shore at Harwich this morning, and at two o’clock, in a catch with about twenty more wounded men from the Royal Charles. They being able to ride, took post about three this morning, and were here between eleven and twelve. I went presently into the coach with them, and carried them to Somerset-House-stairs, and there took water (all the world gazing upon us, and concluding it to be news from the fleet, and everybody’s face appeared expecting of news) to the Privy-stairs, and left them at Mr. Coventry’s lodging (he, though, not being there); and so I into the Park to the King, and told him my Lord General was well the last night at five o’clock, and the Prince come with his fleet and joined with his about seven. The King was mightily pleased with this news, and so took me by the hand and talked a little of it. Giving him the best account I could; and then he bid me to fetch the two seamen to him, he walking into the house. So I went and fetched the seamen into the Vane room to him, and there he heard the whole account.
The Fight.
How we found the Dutch fleet at anchor on Friday half seas over, between Dunkirke and Ostend, and made them let slip their anchors. They about ninety, and we less than sixty. We fought them, and put them to the run, till they met with about sixteen sail of fresh ships, and so bore up again. The fight continued till night, and then again the next morning from five till seven at night. And so, too, yesterday morning they begun again, and continued till about four o’clock, they chasing us for the most part of Saturday and yesterday, we flying from them. The Duke himself, then those people were put into the catch, and by and by spied the Prince’s fleet coming, upon which De Ruyter called a little council (being in chase at this time of us), and thereupon their fleet divided into two squadrons; forty in one, and about thirty in the other (the fleet being at first about ninety, but by one accident or other, supposed to be lessened to about seventy); the bigger to follow the Duke, the less to meet the Prince.2843 But the Prince come up with the General’s fleet, and the Dutch come together again and bore towards their own coast, and we with them; and now what the consequence of this day will be, at that time fighting, we know not. The Duke was forced to come to anchor on Friday, having lost his sails and rigging. No particular person spoken of to be hurt but Sir W. Clerke, who hath lost his leg, and bore it bravely. The Duke himself had a little hurt in his thigh, but signified little. The King did pull out of his pocket about twenty pieces in gold, and did give it Daniel for himself and his companion; and so parted, mightily pleased with the account he did give him of the fight, and the success it ended with, of the Prince’s coming, though it seems the Duke did give way again and again. The King did give order for care to be had of Mr. Daniel and his companion; and so we parted from him, and then met the Duke [of York], and gave him the same account: and so broke up, and I left them going to the surgeon’s and I myself by water to the ’Change, and to several people did give account of the business. So home about four o’clock to dinner, and was followed by several people to be told the news, and good news it is. God send we may hear a good issue of this day’s business! After I had eat something I walked to Gresham College, where I heard my Lord Brouncker was, and there got a promise of the receipt of the fine varnish, which I shall be glad to have. Thence back with Mr. Hooke to my house and there lent some of my tables of naval matters, the names of rigging and the timbers about a ship, in order to Dr. Wilkins’ book coming out about the Universal Language.2844 Thence, he being gone, to the Crown, behind the ’Change, and there supped at the club with my Lord Brouncker, Sir G. Ent, and others of Gresham College; and all our discourse is of this fight at sea, and all are doubtful of the success, and conclude all had been lost if the Prince had not come in, they having chased us the greatest part of Saturday and Sunday. Thence with my Lord Brouncker and Creed by coach to Whitehall, where fresh letters are come from Harwich, where the Gloucester, Captain Clerke,2845 is come in, and says that on Sunday night upon coming in of the Prince, the Duke did fly; but all this day they have been fighting; therefore they did face again, to be sure. Captain Bacon2846 of The Bristoll is killed. They cry up Jenings2847 of The Ruby, and Saunders2848 of The Sweepstakes. They condemn mightily Sir Thomas Teddiman for a coward, but with what reason time must show. Having heard all this Creed and I walked into the Park till 9 or 10 at night, it being fine moonshine, discoursing of the unhappiness of our fleet, what it would have been if the Prince had not come in, how much the Duke hath failed of what he was so presumptuous of, how little we deserve of God Almighty to give us better fortune, how much this excuses all that was imputed to my Lord Sandwich, and how much more he is a man fit to be trusted with all those matters than those that now command, who act by nor with any advice, but rashly and without any order. How bad we are at intelligence that should give the Prince no sooner notice of anything but let him come to Dover without notice of any fight, or where the fleet were, or anything else, nor give the Duke any notice that he might depend upon the Prince’s reserve; and lastly, of how good use all may be to checke our pride and presumption in adventuring upon hazards upon unequal force against a people that can fight, it seems now, as well as we, and that will not be discouraged by any losses, but that they will rise again. Thence by water home, and to supper (my father, wife, and sister having been at Islington today at Pitt’s) and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, expecting every houre more news of the fleet and the issue of yesterday’s fight, but nothing come. At noon, though I should have dined with my Lord Mayor2849 and Aldermen at an entertainment of Commissioner Taylor’s, yet it being a time of expectation of the success of the fleet, I did not go, but dined at home, and after dinner by water down to Deptford (and Woolwich, where I had not been since I lodged there, and methinks the place has grown natural to me), and thence down to Longreach, calling on all the ships in the way, seeing their condition for sailing, and what they want. Home about 11 of the clock, and so eat a bit and to bed, having received no manner of news this day, but of The Rainbow’s being put in from the fleet, maimed as the other ships are, and some say that Sir W. Clerke is dead of his leg being cut off.
. Up betimes, and vexed with my people for having a key taken out of the chamber doors and nobody knew where it was, as also with my boy for not being ready as soon as I, though I called him, whereupon I boxed him soundly, and then to my business at the office and on the Victualling Office, and thence by water to St. James’s, whither he [the Duke of York] is now gone, it being a monthly fast-day for the plague. There we all met, and did our business as usual with the Duke, and among other things had Captain Cocke’s proposal of East country goods read, brought by my Lord Brouncker, which I make use of as a monkey do the cat’s foot. Sir W. Coventry did much oppose it, and it’s likely it will not do; so away goes my hopes of £500. Thence after the Duke into the Park, walking through to Whitehall, and there everybody listening for guns, but none heard, and every creature is now overjoyed and concludes upon very good grounds that the Dutch are beaten because we have heard no guns nor no news of our fleet. By and by walking a little further, Sir Philip Frowde2850 did meet the Duke with an express to Sir W. Coventry (who was by) from Captain Taylor, the Storekeeper at Harwich, being the narration of Captain Hayward of The Dunkirke; who gives a very serious account, how upon Monday the two fleetes fought all day till seven at night, and then the whole fleet of Dutch did betake themselves to a very plain flight, and never looked back again. That Sir Christopher Mings is wounded in the leg; that the General is well. That it is conceived reasonably, that of all the Dutch fleet, which, with what recruits they had, come to one hundred sail, there is not above fifty got home; and of them, few if any of their flags. And that little Captain Bell, in one of the fire-ships, did at the end of the day fire a ship of 70 guns. We were all so overtaken with this good news, that the Duke ran with it to the King, who was gone to chapel, and there all the Court was in a hubbub, being rejoiced over head and ears in this good news. Away go I by coach to the New Exchange, and there did spread this good news a little, though I find it had broke out before. And so home to our own church, it being the common Fast-day, and it was just before sermon; but, Lord! how all the people in the church stared upon me to see me whisper to Sir John Minnes and my Lady Penn. Anon I saw people stirring and whispering below, and by and by comes up the sexton from my Lady Ford to tell me the news (which I had brought), being now sent into the church by Sir W. Batten in writing, and handed from pew to pew. But that which pleased me as much as the news, was, to have the fair Mrs. Middleton at our church, who indeed is a very beautiful lady. Here after sermon comes to our office 40 people almost of all sorts and qualities to hear the news, which I took great delight to tell them. Then home and found my wife at dinner, not knowing of my being at church, and after dinner my father and she out to Hales’s, where my father is to begin to sit today for his picture, which I have a desire to have. I all the afternoon at home doing some business, drawing up my vowes for the rest of the yeare to Christmas; but, Lord! to see in what a condition of happiness I am, if I would but keepe myself so; but my love of pleasure is such, that my very soul is angry with itself for my vanity in so doing. Anon took coach and to Hales’s, but he was gone out, and my father and wife gone. So I to Lovett’s, and there to my trouble saw plainly that my project of varnished books will not take, it not keeping colour, not being able to take polishing upon a single paper. Thence home, and my father and wife not coming in, I proceeded with my coach to take a little air as far as Bow all alone, and there turned back and home; but before I got home, the bonfires were lighted all the town over, and I going through Crouched Friars, seeing Mercer at her mother’s gate, stopped, and ’light, and into her mother’s, the first time I ever was there, and find all my people, father and all, at a very fine supper at W. Hewer’s lodging, very neatly, and to my great pleasure. After supper, into his chamber, which is mighty fine with pictures and everything else, very curious, which pleased me exceedingly. Thence to the gate, with the women all about me, and Mrs. Mercer’s son had provided a great many serpents, and so I made the women all fire some serpents. By and by comes in our faire neighbour, Mrs. Turner, and two neighbour’s daughters, Mrs. Tite, the elder of whom, a long red-nosed silly jade; the younger, a pretty black girl, and the merriest sprightly jade that ever I saw. With them idled away the whole night till twelve at night at the bonfire in the streets. Some of the people thereabouts going about with muskets, and did give me two or three volleys of their muskets, I giving them a crown to drink; and so home. Mightily pleased with this happy day’s news, and the more, because confirmed by Sir Daniel Harvy,2851 who was in the whole fight with the General, and tells me that there appear but thirty-six in all of the Dutch fleet left at the end of the voyage when they run home. The joy of the City was this night exceeding great.
. Up betimes, and to my office about business (Sir W. Coventry having sent me word that he is gone down to the fleet to see how matters stand, and to be back again speedily); and with the same expectation of congratulating ourselves with the victory that I had yesterday. But my Lord Brouncker and Sir T. H.2852 that come from Court, tell me quite contrary news, which astonishes me: that is to say, that we are beaten, lost many ships and good commanders; have not taken one ship of the enemy’s; and so can only report ourselves a victory; nor is it certain that we were left masters of the field. But, above all, that The Prince run on shore upon the Galloper, and there stuck; was endeavoured to be fetched off by the Dutch, but could not; and so they burned her; and Sir G. Ascue is taken prisoner, and carried into Holland. This news do much trouble me, and the thoughts of the ill consequences of it, and the pride and presumption that brought us to it. At noon to the ’Change, and there find the discourse of town, and their countenances much changed; but yet not very plain. So home to dinner all alone, my father and people being gone all to Woolwich to see the launching of the new ship The Greenwich, built by Chr. Pett. I left alone with little Mrs. Tooker, whom I kept with me in my chamber all the afternoon, and did what I would with her. By and by comes Mr. Wayth to me; and discoursing of our ill success, he tells me plainly from Captain Page’s own mouth (who hath lost his arm in the fight), that the Dutch did pursue us two hours before they left us, and then they suffered us to go on homewards, and they retreated towards their coast: which is very sad news. Then to my office and anon to Whitehall, late, to the Duke of York to see what commands he hath and to pray a meeting tomorrow for Tangier in behalf of Mr. Yeabsly, which I did do and do find the Duke much damped in his discourse, touching the late fight, and all the Court talk sadly of it. The Duke did give me several letters he had received from the fleet, and Sir W. Coventry and Sir W. Penn, who are gone down thither, for me to pick out some works to be done for the setting out the fleet again; and so I took them home with me, and was drawing out an abstract of them till midnight. And as to news, I do find great reason to think that we are beaten in every respect, and that we are the losers. The Prince upon the Galloper, where both the Royal Charles and Royal Katharine had come twice aground, but got off. The Essex carried into Holland; the Swiftsure missing (Sir William Barkeley) ever since the beginning of the fight. Captains Bacon, Tearne, Wood, Mootham, Whitty, and Coppin,2853 slain. The Duke of Albemarle writes, that he never fought with worse officers in his life, not above twenty of them behaving themselves like men. Sir William Clerke lost his leg; and in two days died. The Loyal George, Seven Oaks, and Swiftsure, are still missing, having never, as the General writes himself, engaged with them. It was as great an alteration to find myself required to write a sad letter instead of a triumphant one to my Lady Sandwich this night, as ever on any occasion I had in my life. So late home and to bed.
. Up very betimes and to attend the Duke of York by order, all of us to report to him what the works are that are required of us and to divide among us, wherein I have taken a very good share, and more than I can perform, I doubt. Thence to the Exchequer about some Tangier businesses, and then home, where to my very great joy I find Balty come home without any hurt, after the utmost imaginable danger he hath gone through in the Henery, being upon the quarterdeck with Harman all the time; and for which service Harman I heard this day commended most seriously and most eminently by the Duke of York. As also the Duke did do most utmost right to Sir Thomas Teddiman, of whom a scandal was raised, but without cause, he having behaved himself most eminently brave all the whole fight, and to extraordinary great service and purpose, having given Trump himself such a broadside as was hardly ever given to any ship. Mings is shot through the face, and into the shoulder, where the bullet is lodged. Young Holmes2854 is also ill wounded, and Ather in The Rupert. Balty tells me the case of The Henery; and it was, indeed, most extraordinary sad and desperate. After dinner Balty and I to my office, and there talked a great deal of this fight; and I am mightily pleased in him and have great content in, and hopes of his doing well. Thence out to Whitehall to a Committee for Tangier, but it met not. But, Lord! to see how melancholy the Court is, under the thoughts of this last overthrow (for so it is), instead of a victory, so much and so unreasonably expected. Thence, the Committee not meeting, Creed and I down the river as low as Sir W. Warren’s, with whom I did motion a business that may be of profit to me, about buying some lighters to send down to the fleet, wherein he will assist me. So back again, he and I talking of the late ill management of this fight, and of the ill management of fighting at all against so great a force bigger than ours, and so to the office, where we parted, but with this satisfaction that we hear the Swiftsure, Sir W. Barkeley, is come in safe to the Nore, after her being absent ever since the beginning of the fight, wherein she did not appear at all from beginning to end. But wherever she has been, they say she is arrived there well, which I pray God however may be true. At the office late, doing business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to St. James’s, there to wait on the Duke of York, and had discourse with him about several businesses of the fleet. But, Lord! to see how the Court is divided about The Swiftsure and The Essex’s being safe. And wagers and odds laid on both sides. I did tell the Duke how Sir W. Batten did tell me this morning that he was sure the Swiftsure is safe. This put them all in a great joy and certainty of it, but this I doubt will prove nothing. Thence to Whitehall in expectation of a meeting of Tangier, and we did industriously labour to have it this morning; but we could not get a fifth person there, so after much pains and thoughts on my side on behalfe of Yeabsly, we were fain to breake up. But, Lord! to see with what patience Lord Ashly did stay all the morning to get a Committee, little thinking that I know the reason of his willingness. So I home to dinner and back again to Whitehall, and, being come thither a little too soon, went to Westminster Hall, and bought a pair of gloves, and to see how people do take this late fight at sea, and I find all give over the thoughts of it as a victory and to reckon it a great overthrow. So to Whitehall, and there when we were come all together in certain expectation of doing our business to Yeabsly’s full content, and us that were his friends, my Lord Peterborough (whether through some difference between him and my Lord Ashly, or him and me or Povy, or through the falseness of Creed, I know not) do bring word that the Duke of York (who did expressly bid me wait at the Committee for the dispatch of the business) would not have us go forward in this business of allowing the losse of the ships till Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry were come to town, which was the very thing indeed which we would have avoided. This being told us, we broke up doing nothing, to my great discontent, though I said nothing, and afterwards I find by my Lord Ashly’s discourse to me that he is troubled mightily at it, and indeed it is a great abuse of him and of the whole Commissioners that nothing of that nature can be done without Sir G. Carteret or Sir W. Coventry. No sooner was the Committee up, and I going [through] the Court homeward, but I am told Sir W. Coventry is come to town; so I to his chamber, and there did give him an account how matters go in our office, and with some content I parted from him, after we had discoursed several things of the haste requisite to be made in getting the fleet out again and the manner of doing it. But I do not hear that he is at all pleased or satisfied with the late fight; but he tells me more news of our suffering, by the death of one or two captains more than I knew before. But he do give over the thoughts of the safety of The Swiftsure or Essex. Thence homewards, landed at the Old Swan, and there find my pretty Betty Michell and her husband at their door in Thames Street, which I was glad to find, and went into their shop, and they made me drink some of their strong water, the first time I was ever with them there. I do exceedingly love her. After sitting a little and talking with them about several things at great distance I parted and home to my business late. But I am to observe how the drinking of some strong water did immediately put my eyes into a fit of soreness again as they were the other day. I mean my right eye only. Late at night I had an account brought me by Sir W. Warren that he has gone through four lighters for me, which pleases me very well. So home to bed, much troubled with our disappointment at the Tangier Committee.
. Up very betimes, and down the river to Deptford, and did a good deal of business in sending away and directing several things to the Fleet. That being done, back to London to my office, and there at my office till after Church time fitting some notes to carry to Sir W. Coventry in the afternoon. At noon home to dinner, where my cousin Joyces, both of them, they and their wives and little Will, come by invitation to dinner to me, and I had a good dinner for them; but, Lord! how sicke was I of W. Joyce’s company, both the impertinencies of it and his ill manners before me at my table to his wife, which I could hardly forbear taking notice of; but being at my table and for his wife’s sake, I did, though I will prevent his giving me the like occasion again at my house I will warrant him. After dinner I took leave and by water to Whitehall, and there spent all the afternoon in the Gallery, till the Council was up, to speake with Sir W. Coventry. Walking here I met with Pierce the surgeon, who is lately come from the fleet, and tells me that all the commanders, officers, and even the common seamen do condemn every part of the late conduct of the Duke of Albemarle: both in his fighting at all, in his manner of fighting, running among them in his retreat, and running the ships on ground; so as nothing can be worse spoken of. That Holmes, Spragg, and Smith do all the business, and the old and wiser commanders nothing. So as Sir Thomas Teddiman (whom the King and all the world speak well of) is mightily discontented, as being wholly slighted. He says we lost more after the Prince come, than before too. The Prince was so maimed, as to be forced to be towed home. He says all the fleet confess their being chased home by the Dutch; and yet the body of the Dutch that did it, was not above forty sail at most. And yet this put us into the fright, as to bring all our ships on ground. He says, however, that the Duke of Albemarle is as high almost as ever, and pleases himself to think that he hath given the Dutch their bellies full, without sense of what he hath lost us; and talks how he knows now the way to beat them. But he says, that even Smith himself, one of his creatures, did himself condemn the late conduct from the beginning to the end. He tells me further, how the Duke of York is wholly given up to his new mistress, my Lady Denham, going at noonday with all his gentlemen with him to visit her in Scotland Yard;2855 she declaring she will not be his mistress, as Mrs. Price,2856 to go up and down the Privy-stairs, but will be owned publicly; and so she is. Mr. Brouncker, it seems, was the pimp to bring it about, and my Lady Castlemaine, who designs thereby to fortify herself by the Duke; there being a falling-out the other day between the King and her: on this occasion, the Queen, in ordinary talk before the ladies in her drawing-room, did say to my Lady Castlemaine that she feared the King did take cold, by staying so late abroad at her house. She answered before them all, that he did not stay so late abroad with her, for he went betimes thence (though he do not before one, two, or three in the morning), but must stay somewhere else. The King then coming in and overhearing, did whisper in the ear aside, and told her she was a bold impertinent woman, and bid her to be gone out of the Court, and not come again till he sent for her; which she did presently, and went to a lodging in the Pell Mell, and kept there two or three days, and then sent to the King to know whether she might send for her things away out of her house. The King sent to her, she must first come and view them: and so she come, and the King went to her, and all friends again. He tells me she did, in her anger, say she would be even with the King, and print his letters to her. So putting all together, we are and are like to be in a sad condition. We are endeavouring to raise money by borrowing it of the City; but I do not think the City will lend a farthing. By and by the Council broke up, and I spoke with Sir W. Coventry about business, with whom I doubt not in a little time to be mighty well, when I shall appear to mind my business again as I used to do, which by the grace of God I will do. Gone from him I endeavoured to find out Sir G. Carteret, and at last did at Mr. Ashburnham’s, in the Old Palace Yarde, and thence he and I stepped out and walked an houre in the church-yarde, under Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, he being lately come from the fleet; and tells me, as I hear from everybody else, that the management in the late fight was bad from top to bottom. That several said this would not have been if my Lord Sandwich had had the ordering of it. Nay, he tells me that certainly had my Lord Sandwich had the misfortune to have done as they have done, the King could not have saved him. There is, too, nothing but discontent among the officers; and all the old experienced men are slighted. He tells me to my question (but as a great secret), that the dividing of the fleet did proceed first from a proposition from the fleet, though agreed to hence. But he confesses it arose from want of due intelligence, which he confesses we do want. He do, however, call the fleet’s retreat on Sunday a very honourable retreat, and that the Duke of Albemarle did do well in it, and would have been well if he had done it sooner, rather than venture the loss of the fleet and crown, as he must have done if the Prince had not come. He was surprised when I told him I heard that the King did intend to borrow some money of the City, and would know who had spoke of it to me; I told him Sir Ellis Layton2857 this afternoon. He says it is a dangerous discourse; for that the City certainly will not be invited to do it, and then for the King to ask it and be denied, will be the beginning of our sorrow. He seems to fear we shall all fall to pieces among ourselves. This evening we hear that Sir Christopher Mings is dead of his late wounds; and Sir W. Coventry did commend him to me in a most extraordinary manner. But this day, after three days’ trial in vain, and the hazard of the spoiling of the ship in lying till next spring, besides the disgrace of it, news is brought that the Loyal London is launched at Deptford. Having talked thus much with Sir G. Carteret we parted there, and I home by water, taking in my boat with me young Michell and my Betty his wife, meeting them accidentally going to look a boat. I set them down at the Old Swan and myself, went through bridge to the Tower, and so home, and after supper to bed.
. Up, and down by water to Sir W. Warren’s (the first time I was in his new house on the other side the water since he enlarged it) to discourse about our lighters that he hath bought for me, and I hope to get £100 by this jobb. Having done with him I took boat again (being mightily struck with a woman in a hat, a seaman’s mother2858 that stood on the key) and home, where at the office all the morning with Sir W. Coventry and some others of our board hiring of fireships, and Sir W. Coventry begins to see my pains again, which I do begin to take, and I am proud of it, and I hope shall continue it. He gone, at noon I home to dinner, and after dinner my father and wife out to the painter’s to sit again, and I, with my Lady Penn and her daughter, to see Harman; whom we find lame in bed. His bones of his ankle are broke, but he hopes to do well soon; and a fine person by his discourse he seems to be and my hearty [friend]; and he did plainly tell me that at the Council of War before the fight, it was against his reason to begin the fight then, and the reasons of most sober men there, the wind being such, and we to windward, that they could not use their lower tier of guns, which was a very sad thing for us to have the honour and weal of the nation ventured so foolishly. I left them there, and walked to Deptford, reading in Walsingham’s Manual, a very good book, and there met with Sir W. Batten and my Lady at Uthwayt’s. Here I did much business and yet had some little mirthe with my Lady, and anon we all come up together to our office, where I was very late doing much business. Late comes Sir J. Bankes to see me, and tells me that coming up from Rochester he overtook three or four hundred seamen, and he believes every day they come flocking from the fleet in like numbers; which is a sad neglect there, when it will be impossible to get others, and we have little reason to think that these will return presently again. He gone, I to end my letters tonight, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon to dinner, and then to Whitehall in hopes of a meeting of Tangier about Yeabsly’s business, but it could not be obtained, Sir G. Carteret nor Sir W. Coventry being able to be there, which still vexes [me] to see the poor man forced still to attend, as also being desirous to see what my profit is, and get it. Walking here in the galleries I find the Ladies of Honour dressed in their riding garbs, with coats and doublets with deep skirts, just for all the world like mine, and buttoned their doublets up the breast, with periwigs and with hats; so that, only for a long petticoat dragging under their men’s coats, nobody could take them for women in any point whatever; which was an odde sight, and a sight did not please me. It was Mrs. Wells and another fine lady that I saw thus. Thence down by water to Deptford, and there late seeing some things dispatched down to the fleet, and so home (thinking indeed to have met with Bagwell, but I did not) to write my letters very late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to St. James’s, and there did our business before the Duke as usual, having, before the Duke come out of his bed, walked in an antechamber with Sir H. Cholmly,2859 who tells me there are great jarrs between the Duke of York and the Duke of Albemarle, about the later’s turning out one or two of the commanders put in by the Duke of York. Among others, Captain Du Tell,2860 a Frenchman, put in by the Duke of York, and mightily defended by him; and is therein led by Monsieur Blancford,2861 that it seems hath the same command over the Duke of York as Sir W. Coventry hath; which raises ill blood between them. And I do in several little things observe that Sir W. Coventry hath of late, by the by, reflected on the Duke of Albemarle and his captains, particularly in that of old Teddiman, who did deserve to be turned out this fight, and was so; but I heard Sir W. Coventry say that the Duke of Albemarle put in one as bad as he is in his room, and one that did as little. After we had done with the Duke of York, I with others to Whitehall, there to attend again a Committee of Tangier, but there was none, which vexed me to the heart, and makes me mighty doubtful that when we have one, it will be prejudiced against poor Yeabsly and to my great disadvantage thereby, my Lord Peterborough making it his business, I perceive (whether in spite to me, whom he cannot but smell to be a friend to it, or to my Lord Ashly, I know not), to obstruct it, and seems to take delight in disappointing of us; but I shall be revenged of him. Here I stayed a very great while, almost till noon, and then meeting Balty I took him with me, and to Westminster to the Exchequer about breaking of two tallies of £2,000 each into smaller tallies, which I have been endeavouring a good while, but to my trouble it will not, I fear, be done, though there be no reason against it, but only a little trouble to the clerks; but it is nothing to me of real profit at all. Thence with Balty to Hales’s by coach, it being the seventh day from my making my late oathes, and by them I am at liberty to dispense with any of my oathes every seventh day after I had for the six days before going performed all my vowes. Here I find my father’s picture begun, and so much to my content, that it joys my very heart to think that I should have his picture so well done; who, besides that he is my father, and a man that loves me, and hath ever done so, is also, at this day, one of the most careful and innocent men, in the world. Thence with mighty content homeward, and in my way at the Stockes did buy a couple of lobsters, and so home to dinner, where I find my wife and father had dined, and were going out to Hales’s to sit there, so Balty and I alone to dinner, and in the middle of my grace, praying for a blessing upon (these his good creatures), my mind fell upon my lobsters: upon which I cried, Odd zooks! and Balty looked upon me like a man at a losse what I meant, thinking at first that I meant only that I had said the grace after meat instead of that before meat. But then I cried, what is become of my lobsters? Whereupon he run out of doors to overtake the coach, but could not, so came back again, and mighty merry at dinner to think of my surprise. After dinner to the Excise Office by appointment, and there find my Lord Bellasses and the Commissioners, and by and by the whole company come to dispute the business of our running so far behindhand there, and did come to a good issue in it, that is to say, to resolve upon having the debt due to us, and the Household and the Guards from the Excise stated, and so we shall come to know the worst of our condition and endeavour for some help from my Lord Treasurer. Thence home, and put off Balty, and so, being invited, to Sir Christopher Mings’s funeral, but find them gone to church. However I into the church (which is a fair, large church, and a great chapel) and there heard the service, and stayed till they buried him, and then out. And there met with Sir W. Coventry (who was there out of great generosity, and no person of quality there but he) and went with him into his coach, and being in it with him there happened this extraordinary case, one of the most romantic that ever I heard of in my life, and could not have believed, but that I did see it; which was this:—About a dozen able, lusty, proper men come to the coach-side with tears in their eyes, and one of them that spoke for the rest begun and says to Sir W. Coventry, “We are here a dozen of us that have long known and loved, and served our dead commander, Sir Christopher Mings, and have now done the last office of laying him in the ground. We would be glad we had any other to offer after him, and in revenge of him. All we have is our lives; if you will please to get His Royal Highness to give us a fireship among us all, here is a dozen of us, out of all which choose you one to be commander, and the rest of us, whoever he is, will serve him; and, if possible, do that that shall show our memory of our dead commander, and our revenge.” Sir W. Coventry was herewith much moved (as well as I, who could hardly abstain from weeping), and took their names, and so parted; telling me that he would move His Royal Highness as in a thing very extraordinary, which was done. Thereon see the next day in this book. So we parted. The truth is, Sir Christopher Mings was a very stout man, and a man of great parts, and most excellent tongue among ordinary men; and as Sir W. Coventry says, could have been the most useful man at such a pinch of time as this. He was come into great renown here at home, and more abroad in the West Indies. He had brought his family into a way of being great; but dying at this time, his memory and name (his father being always and at this day a shoemaker, and his mother a Hoyman’s daughter;2862 of which he was used frequently to boast) will be quite forgot in a few months as if he had never been, nor any of his name be the better by it; he having not had time to will any estate, but is dead poor rather than rich. So we left the church and crowd, and I home (being set down on Tower Hill), and there did a little business and then in the evening went down by water to Deptford, it being very late, and there I stayed out as much time as I could, and then took boat again homeward, but the officers being gone in, returned and walked to Mrs. Bagwell’s house, and there (it being by this time pretty dark and past ten o’clock) went into her house and did what I would. But I was not a little fearful of what she told me but now, which is, that her servant was dead of the plague, that her coming to me yesterday was the first day of her coming forth, and that she had new whitened the house all below stairs, but that above stairs they are not so fit for me to go up to, they being not so. So I parted thence, with a very good will, but very civil, and away to the waterside, and sent for a pint of sacke and so home, drank what I would and gave the waterman the rest; and so adieu. Home about twelve at night, and so to bed, finding most of my people gone to bed. In my way home I called on a fisherman and bought three eeles, which cost me three shillings.
. Up, and to the office, and there sat all the morning. At noon dined at home, and thence with my wife and father to Hales’s, and there looked only on my father’s picture (which is mighty like); and so away to Whitehall to a committee for Tangier, where the Duke of York was, and Sir W. Coventry, and a very full committee; and instead of having a very prejudiced meeting, they did, though indeed inclined against Yeabsly, yield to the greatest part of his account, so as to allow of his demands to the value of £7,000 and more, and only give time for him to make good his pretence to the rest; which was mighty joy to me: and so we rose up. But I must observe the force of money, which did make my Lord Ashly to argue and behave himself in the business with the greatest friendship, and yet with all the discretion imaginable; and [it] will be a business of admonition and instruction to me concerning him (and other men, too, for aught I know) as long as I live. Thence took Creed with some kind of violence and some hard words between us to St. James’s, to have found out Sir W. Coventry to have signed the order for his payment among others that did stay on purpose to do it (and which is strange among the rest my Lord Ashly, who did cause Creed to write it presently and kept two or three of them with him by cunning to stay and sign it), but Creed’s ill nature (though never so well bribed, as it hath lately in this case by twenty pieces) will not be overcome from his usual delays. Thence failing of meeting Sir W. Coventry I took leave of Creed (very good friends) and away home, and there took out my father, wife, sister, and Mercer our grand Tour in the evening, and made it ten at night before we got home, only drink at the door at Islington at the Katherine Wheel, and so home and to the office a little, and then to bed.
. Up betimes, and to my Journal entries, but disturbed by many businesses, among others by Mr. Houblon’s coming to me about evening their freight for Tangier, which I did, and then Mr. Bland, who presented me yesterday with a very fine African mat, to lay upon the ground under a bed of state, being the first fruits of our peace with Guyland. So to the office, and thither come my pretty widow Mrs. Burrows, poor woman, to get her ticket paid for her husband’s service, which I did her myself, and did baisser her moucher, and I do hope may thereafter have some day sa company. Thence to Westminster to the Exchequer, but could not persuade the blockheaded fellows to do what I desire, of breaking my great tallies into less, notwithstanding my Lord Treasurer’s order, which vexed [me] so much that I would not bestow more time and trouble among a company of dunces, and so back again home, and to dinner, whither Creed come and dined with me and after dinner Mr. Moore, and he and I abroad, thinking to go down the river together, but the tide being against me would not, but returned and walked an houre in the garden, but, Lord! to hear how he pleases himself in behalf of my Lord Sandwich, in the miscarriage of the Duke of Albemarle, and do inveigh against Sir W. Coventry as a cunning knave, but I think that without any manner of reason at all, but only his passion. He being gone I to my chamber at home to set my Journal right and so to settle my Tangier accounts, which I did in very good order, and then in the evening comes Mr. Yeabsly to reckon with me, which I did also, and have above £200 profit therein to myself, which is a great blessing, the God of heaven make me thankful for it. That being done, and my eyes beginning to be sore with overmuch writing, I to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to my office, and there we sat all the morning and dispatched much business, the King, Duke of York, and Sir W. Coventry being gone down to the fleet. At noon home to dinner and then down to Woolwich and Deptford to look after things, my head aching from the multitude of businesses I had in my head yesterday in settling my accounts. All the way down and up, reading of The Mayor of Quinborough,2863 a simple play. At Deptford, while I am there, comes Mr. Williamson, Sir Arthur Ingram and Jacke Fen, to see the new ships, which they had done, and then I with them home in their boat, and a very fine gentleman Mr. Williamson is. It seems the Dutch do mightily insult of their victory, and they have great reason.2864 Sir William Barkeley was killed before his ship taken; and there he lies dead in a sugar-chest, for everybody to see, with his flag standing up by him. And Sir George Ascue is carried up and down the Hague for people to see. Home to my office, where late, and then to bed.
. Being invited to Anthony Joyce’s to dinner, my wife and sister and Mercer and I walked out in the morning, it being fine weather, to Christ Church, and there heard a silly sermon, but sat where we saw one of the prettiest little boys with the prettiest mouth that ever I saw in [my] life. Thence to Joyce’s, where William Joyce and his wife were, and had a good dinner; but, Lord! how sicke was I of the company, only hope I shall have no more of it a good while; but am invited to Will’s this week; and his wife, poor unhappy woman, cried to hear me say that I could not be there, she thinking that I slight her: so they got me to promise to come. Thence my father and I walked to Gray’s Inne Fields, and there spent an houre or two walking and talking of several businesses; first, as to his estate, he told me it produced about £80 per ann., but then there goes £30 per ann. taxes and other things, certain charge, which I do promise to make good as far as this £30, at which the poor man was overjoyed and wept. As to Pall he tells me he is mightily satisfied with Ensum,2865 and so I promised to give her £500 presently, and to oblige myself to £100 more on the birth of her first child, he insuring her in £10 per ann. for every £100, and in the meantime till she do marry I promise to allow her £10 per ann. Then as to John I tell him I will promise him nothing, but will supply him as so much lent him, I declaring that I am not pleased with him yet, and that when his degree is over I will send for him up hither, and if he be good for anything doubt not to get him preferment. This discourse ended to the joy of my father and no less to me to see that I am able to do this, we return to Joyce’s and there wanting a coach to carry us home I walked out as far as the New Exchange to find one, but could not. So down to the Milke-house, and drank three glasses of whay, and then up into the Strand again, and there met with a coach, and so to Joyce’s and took up my father, wife, sister, and Mercer, and to Islington, where we drank, and then our tour by Hackney home, where, after a little, business at my office and then talk with my Lady and Pegg Penn in the garden, I home and to bed, being very weary.
. Up betimes and in my chamber most of the morning setting things to rights there, my Journal and accounts with my father and brother, then to the office a little, and so to Lombard Street, to borrow a little money upon a tally, but cannot. Thence to the Exchequer, and there after much wrangling got consent that I should have a great tally broken into little ones. Thence to Hales’s to see how my father’s picture goes on, which pleases me mighty well, though I find again, as I did in Mrs. Pierce’s, that a picture may have more of a likeness in the first or second working than it shall have when finished, though this is very well and to my full content, but so it is, and certainly mine was not so like at the first, second, or third sitting as it was afterward. Thence to my Lord Bellasses, by invitation, and there dined with him, and his lady and daughter; and at dinner there played to us a young boy, lately come from France, where he had been learning a yeare or two on the violin, and plays finely. But impartially I do not find any goodness in their airs (though very good) beyond ours when played by the same hand, I observed in several of Baptiste’s2866 (the present great composer) and our Bannister’s.2867 But it was pretty to see how passionately my Lord’s daughter loves music, the most that ever I saw creature in my life. Thence after dinner home and to the office and anon to Lombard Street again, where much talk at Colvill’s, he censuring the times, and how matters are ordered, and with reason enough; but, above all, the thinking to borrow money of the City, which will not be done, but be denied, they being little pleased with the King’s affairs, and that must breed differences between the King and the City. Thence down by water to Deptford, to order things away to the fleet and back again, and after some business at my office late home to supper and to bed. Sir W. Coventry is returned this night from the fleet, he being the activest man in the world, and we all (myself particularly) more afeard of him than of the King or his service, for aught I see; God forgive us! This day the great news is come of the French, their taking the island of St. Christopher’s from us;2868 and it is to be feared they have done the like of all those islands thereabouts: this makes the city mad.
. Up, and to my office, there to fit business against the rest meet, which they did by and by, and sat late. After the office rose (with Creed with me) to Wm. Joyce’s to dinner, being invited, and there find my father and sister, my wife and Mercer, with them, almost dined. I made myself as complaisant as I could till I had dined, but yet much against my will, and so away after dinner with Creed to Penny’s, my Tailor, where I bespoke a thin stuff suit, and did spend a little time evening some little accounts with Creed and so parted, and I to Sir. G. Carteret’s by appointment; where I perceive by him the King is going to borrow some money of the City; but I fear it will do no good, but hurt. He tells me how the General2869 is displeased, and there have been some high words between the General and Sir W. Coventry. And it may be so; for I do not find Sir W. Coventry so highly commending the Duke as he used to be, but letting fall now and then some little jerkes: as this day, speaking of news from Holland, he says, “I find their victory begins to shrinke there, as well as ours here.” Here I met with Captain Cocke, and he tells me that the first thing the Prince said to the King upon his coming, was complaining of the Commissioners of the Navy; that they could have been abroad in three or four days but for us; that we do not take care of them which I am troubled at, and do fear may in violence break out upon this office some time or other; for we shall not be able to carry on the business. Thence home, and at my business till late at night, then with my wife into the garden and there sang with Mercer, whom I feel myself begin to love too much by handling of her breasts in a’ morning when she dresses me, they being the finest that ever I saw in my life, that is the truth of it. So home and to supper with beans and bacon and to bed.
. Up, but in some pain of the colic. I have of late taken too much cold by washing my feet and going in a thin silke waistcoate, without any other coat over it, and open-breasted, but I hope it will go over. I did this morning (my father being to go away tomorrow) give my father some money to buy him a horse, and for other things to himself and my mother and sister, among them £20, besides undertaking to pay for other things for them to about £3, which the poor man takes with infinite kindness, and I do not think I can bestow it better. Thence by coach to St. James’s as usual to wait on the Duke of York, after having discoursed with Colonel Fitzgerald, whom I met in my way and he returned with me to Westminster, about paying him a sum of 700 and odd pounds, and he bids me defalk £25 for myself2870 which is a very good thing; having done with the Duke I to the Exchequer and there after much ado do get my business quite over of the difficulty of breaking a great tally into little ones and so shall have it done tomorrow. Thence to the Hall and with Mrs. Martin home and stayed with her a while, and then away to the Swan and sent for a bit of meat and dined there, and thence to Faythorne,2871 the picture-seller’s, and there chose two or three good Cuts to try to vernish, and so to Hales’s to see my father’s picture, which is now near finished and is very good, and here I stayed and took a nap of an hour, thinking my father and wife would have come, but they did not; so I away home as fast as I could, fearing lest my father this day going abroad to see Mr. Honiwood at Major Russell’s might meet with any trouble, and so in great pain home; but to spite me, in Cheapside I met Mrs. Williams in a coach, and she called me, so I must needs ’light and go along with her and poor Knipp (who is so big as she can tumble and looks every day to lie down) as far as Paternoster Row, which I did do and there stayed in Bennett’s shop with them, and was fearful lest the people of the shop, knowing me, should aske after my father and give Mrs. Williams any knowledge of me to my disgrace. Having seen them done there and accompanied them to Ludgate I ’light and into my own coach and home, where I find my father and wife had had no intent of coming at all to Hales’s. So I at home all the evening doing business, and at night in the garden (it having been these three or four days mighty hot weather) singing in the evening, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning; whereby several circumstances I find Sir W. Coventry and the Duke of Albemarle do not agree as they used to do; Sir W. Coventry commending Aylett2872 (in some reproach to the Duke), whom the Duke hath put out for want of courage; and found fault with Steward,2873 whom the Duke keeps in, though as much in fault as any commander in the fleet. At noon home to dinner, my father, sister, and wife dining at Sarah Giles’s, poor woman, where I should have been, but my pride would not suffer me. After dinner to Mr. Debasty’s to speake with Sir Robert Viner, a fine house and a great many fine ladies. He used me mighty civilly. My business was to set the matter right about the letter of credit he did give my Lord Belassis, that I may take up the tallies lodged with Viner for his security in the answering of my Lord’s bills, which we did set right very well, and Sir Robert Viner went home with me and did give me the £5,000 tallies presently. Here at Mr. Debasty’s I saw, in a gold frame, a picture of a fluter playing on his flute which, for a good while, I took for paynting, but at last observed it a piece of tapestry, and is the finest that ever I saw in my life for figures, and good natural colours, and a very fine thing it is indeed. So home and met Sir George Smith by the way, who tells me that this day my Lord Chancellor and some of the Court have been with the City, and the City have voted to lend the King £100,000; which, if soon paid (as he says he believes it will), will be a greater service than I did ever expect at this time from the City. So home to my letters and then with my wife in the garden, and then upon our leades singing in the evening and so to supper (while at supper comes young Michell, whose wife I love, little Betty Howlet, to get my favour about a ticket, and I am glad of this occasion of obliging him and give occasion of his coming to me, for I must be better acquainted with him and her), and after supper to bed.
. Up, and before I went out Mr. Peter Barr sent me a tierce of claret, which is very welcome. And so abroad down the river to Deptford and there did some business, and then to Westminster, and there did with much ado get my tallies (my small ones instead of one great one of £2,000), and so away home and there all day upon my Tangier accounts with Creed, and, he being gone, with myself, in settling other accounts till past twelve at night, and then everybody being in bed, I to bed, my father, wife, and sister late abroad upon the water, and Mercer being gone to her mother’s and stayed so long she could not get into the office, which vexed me.
. My father and sister very betimes took their leave; and my wife, with all possible kindness, went with them to the coach, I being mightily pleased with their company thus long, and my father with his being here, and it rejoices my heart that I am in condition to do anything to comfort him, and could, were it not for my mother, have been contented he should have stayed always here with me, he is such innocent company. They being gone, I to my papers, but vexed at what I heard but a little of this morning, before my wife went out, that Mercer and she fell out last night, and that the girl is gone home to her mother’s for altogether. This troubles me, though perhaps it may be an ease to me of so much charge. But I love the girl, and another we must be forced to keepe I do foresee and then shall be sorry to part with her. At the office all the morning, much disquiet in my mind in the middle of my business about this girl. Home at noon to dinner, and what with the going away of my father today and the losse of Mercer, I after dinner went up to my chamber and there could have cried to myself, had not people come to me about business. In the evening down to Tower Wharf thinking to go by water, but could not get watermen; they being now so scarce, by reason of the great press; so to the Custome House, and there, with great threats, got a couple to carry me down to Deptford, all the way reading Pompey the Great (a play translated from the French2874 by several noble persons; among others, my Lord Buckhurst), that to me is but a mean play, and the words and sense not very extraordinary. From Deptford I walked to Redriffe, and in my way was overtaken by Bagwell, lately come from sea in the Providence, who did give me an account of several particulars in the late fight, and how his ship was deserted basely by the York, Captain Swanly,2875 commander. So I home and there after writing my letters home to supper and to bed, fully resolved to rise betimes, and go down the river tomorrow morning, being vexed this night to find none of the officers in the yarde at 7 at night, nor anybody concerned as if it were a Dutch war. It seems Mercer’s mother was here in the morning to speak with my wife, but my wife would not. In the afternoon I and my wife in writing did instruct W. Hewer in some discourse to her, and she in the evening did come and satisfy my wife, and by and by Mercer did come, which I was mighty glad of and eased of much pain about her.
. Sunday. Midsummer Day. Up, but, being weary the last night, not so soon as I intended. Then being dressed, down by water to Deptford, and there did a great deal of business, being in a mighty hurry, Sir W. Coventry writing to me that there was some thoughts that the Dutch fleet were out or coming out. Business being done in providing for the carrying down of some provisions to the fleet, I away back home and after dinner by water to Whitehall, and there waited till the councill rose, in the boarded gallery, and there among other things I hear that Sir Francis Prujean2876 is dead, after being married to a widow about a yeare or thereabouts. He died very rich, and had, for the last yeare, lived very handsomely, his lady bringing him to it. He was no great painstaker in person, yet died very rich; and, as Dr. Clerke says, was of a very great judgment, but hath writ nothing to leave his name to posterity. In the gallery among others met with Major Halsey, a great creature of the Duke of Albemarle’s; who tells me that the Duke, by name, hath said that he expected to have the worke here up in the River done, having left Sir W. Batten and Mr. Phipps there. He says that the Duke of Albemarle do say that this is a victory we have had, having, as he was sure, killed them 8,000 men, and sunk about fourteen of their ships; but nothing like this appears true. He lays much of the little success we had, however, upon the fleet’s being divided by order from above, and the want of spirit in the commanders; and that he was commanded by order to go out of the Downs to the Gun-fleet, and in the way meeting the Dutch fleet, what should he do? should he not fight them? especially having beat them heretofore at as great disadvantage. He tells me further, that having been down with the Duke of Albemarle, he finds that Holmes and Spragge do govern most business of the Navy; and by others I understand that Sir Thomas Allen is offended thereat; that he is not so much advised with as he ought to be. He tells me also, as he says, of his own knowledge, that several people before the Duke went out did offer to supply the King with £100,000 provided he would be treasurer of it, to see it laid out for the Navy; which he refused, and so it died. But I believe none of this. This day I saw my Lady Falmouth,2877 with whom I remember now I have dined at my Lord Barkeley’s heretofore, a pretty woman: she was now in her second or third mourning, and pretty pleasant in her looks. By and by the Council rises, and Sir W. Coventry comes out; and he and I went aside, and discoursed of much business of the Navy; and afterwards took his coach, and to Hide-Park, he and I alone: there we had much talk. First, he started a discourse of a talk he hears about the town, which, says he, is a very bad one, and fit to be suppressed, if we knew how which is, the comparing of the success of the last year with that of this; saying that that was good, and that bad. I was as sparing in speaking as I could, being jealous of him and myself also, but wished it could be stopped; but said I doubted it could not otherwise than by the fleet’s being abroad again, and so finding other worke for men’s minds and discourse. Then to discourse of himself, saying, that he heard that he was under the lash of people’s discourse about the Prince’s not having notice of the Dutch being out, and for him to comeback again, nor the Duke of Albemarle notice that the Prince was sent for back again: to which he told me very particularly how careful he was the very same night that it was resolved to send for the Prince back, to cause orders to be writ, and waked the Duke, who was then in bed, to sign them; and that they went by express that very night, being the Wednesday night before the fight, which begun on the Friday; and that for sending them by the post express, and not by gentlemen on purpose, he made a sport of it, and said, I knew of none to send it with, but would at least have lost more time in fitting themselves out, than any diligence of theirs beyond that of the ordinary post would have recovered. I told him that this was not so much the town talk as the reason of dividing the fleet. To this he told me he ought not to say much; but did assure me in general that the proposition did first come from the fleet, and the resolution not being prosecuted with orders so soon as the General thought fit, the General did send Sir Edward Spragge up on purpose for them; and that there was nothing in the whole business which was not done with the full consent and advice of the Duke of Albemarle. But he did adde (as the Catholics call le secret de la Masse), that Sir Edward Spragge—who had even in Sir Christopher Mings’s time put in to be the great favourite of the Prince, but much more now had a mind to be the great man with him, and to that end had a mind to have the Prince at a distance from the Duke of Albemarle, that they might be doing something alone—did, as he believed, put on this business of dividing the fleet, and that thence it came.2878 He tells me as to the business of intelligence, the want whereof the world did complain much of, that for that it was not his business, and as he was therefore to have no share in the blame, so he would not meddle to lay it anywhere else. That de Ruyter was ordered by the States not to make it his business to come into much danger, but to preserve himself as much as was fit out of harm’s way, to be able to direct the fleet. He do, I perceive, with some violence, forbear saying anything to the reproach of the Duke of Albemarle; but, contrarily, speaks much of his courage; but I do as plainly see that he do not like the Duke of Albemarle’s proceedings, but, contrarily, is displeased therewith. And he do plainly diminish the commanders put in by the Duke, and do lessen the miscarriages of any that have been removed by him. He concurs with me, that the next bout will be a fatal one to one side or other, because, if we be beaten, we shall not be able to set out our fleet again. He do confess with me that the hearts of our seamen are much saddened; and for that reason, among others, wishes Sir Christopher Mings was alive, who might inspire courage and spirit into them. Speaking of Holmes, how great a man he is, and that he do for the present, and hath done all the voyage, kept himself in good order and within bounds; but, says he, a cat will be a cat still, and some time or other out his humour must break again. He do not disown but that the dividing of the fleet upon the presumptions that were then had (which, I suppose, was the French fleet being come this way), was a good resolution. Having had all this discourse, he and I back to Whitehall; and there I left him, being [in] a little doubt whether I had behaved myself in my discourse with the policy and circumspection which ought to be used to so great a courtier as he is, and so wise and factious a man, and by water home, and so, after supper, to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at my Tangier accounts, which the chopping and changing of my tallies make mighty troublesome; but, however, I did end them with great satisfaction to myself. At noon, without staying to eat my dinner, I down by water to Deptford, and there coming find Sir W. Batten and Sir Jeremy Smith (whom the dispatch of the Loyal London detained) at dinner at Greenwich at the Beare Tavern, and thither I to them and there dined with them. Very good company of strangers there was, but I took no great pleasure among them, being desirous to be back again. So got them to rise as soon as I could, having told them the news Sir W. Coventry just now wrote me to tell them, which is, that the Dutch are certainly come out. I did much business at Deptford, and so home, by an old poor man, a sculler, having no oares to be got, and all this day on the water entertained myself with the play of Commenius,2879 and being come home did go out to Aldgate, there to be overtaken by Mrs. Margot Penn in her father’s coach, and my wife and Mercer with her, and Mrs. Penn carried us to two gardens at Hackney (which I every day grow more and more in love with), Mr. Drake’s one, where the garden is good, and house and the prospect admirable; the other my Lord Brooke’s,2880 where the gardens are much better, but the house not so good, nor the prospect good at all. But the gardens are excellent; and here I first saw oranges grow:2881 some green, some half, some a quarter, and some full ripe, on the same tree, and one fruit of the same tree do come a year or two after the other. I pulled off a little one by stealth (the man being mighty curious of them) and eat it, and it was just as other little green small oranges are; as big as half the end of my little finger. Here were also great variety of other exotic plants, and several labarinths, and a pretty aviary. Having done there with very great pleasure we away back again, and called at the Tavern in Hackney by the church, and there drank and eate, and so in the coole of the evening home. This being the first day of my putting on my black stuff bombazin suit, and I hope to feel no inconvenience by it, the weather being extremely hot. So home and to bed, and this night the first night of my lying without a waistcoat, which I hope I shall very well endure. So to bed. This morning I did with great pleasure hear Mr. Caesar play some good things on his lute, while he come to teach my boy Tom, and I did give him 40s. for his encouragement.
. Up and to my office betimes, and there all the morning, very busy to get out the fleet, the Dutch being now for certain out, and we shall not, we think, be much behindhand with them. At noon to the ’Change about business, and so home to dinner, and after dinner to the setting my Journal to rights, and so to the office again, where all the afternoon full of business, and there till night, that my eyes were sore, that I could not write no longer. Then into the garden, then my wife and Mercer and my Lady Penn and her daughter with us, and here we sung in the dark very finely half an houre, and so home to supper and to bed. This afternoon, after a long drowth, we had a good shower of rain, but it will not signify much if no more come. This day in the morning come Mr. Chichly2882 to Sir W. Coventry, to tell him the ill success of the guns made for the Loyal London; which is, that in the trial every one of the great guns, the whole cannon of seven (as I take it), broke in pieces, which is a strange mishap, and that which will give more occasion to people’s discourse of the King’s business being done ill. This night Mary my cook-maid, that hath been with us about three months, but find herself not able to do my worke, so is gone with great kindness away, and another (Luce) come, very ugly and plaine, but may be a good servant for all that.
. Up, and to my office awhile, and then down the river a little way to see vessels ready for the carrying down of 400 land soldiers to the fleet. Then back to the office for my papers, and so to St. James’s, where we did our usual attendance on the Duke. Having done with him, we all of us down to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber (where I saw his father my Lord Coventry’s picture hung up, done by Stone,2883 who then brought it home. It is a good picture, drawn in his judge’s robes, and the great seale by him. And while it was hanging up, “This,” says Sir W. Coventry, merrily, “is the use we make of our fathers,”) to discourse about the proposition of serving us with hemp, delivered in by my Lord Brouncker as from an unknown person, though I know it to be Captain Cocke’s. My Lord and Sir William Coventry had some earnest words about it, the one promoting it for his private ends, being, as Cocke tells me himself, to have £500 if the bargain goes on, and I am to have as much, and the other opposing it for the unseasonableness of it, not knowing at all whose the proposition is, which seems the more ingenious of the two. I sat by and said nothing, being no great friend to the proposition, though Cocke intends me a convenience by it. But what I observed most from the discourse was this of Sir W. Coventry, that he do look upon ourselves in a desperate condition. The issue of all standing upon this one point, that by the next fight, if we beat, the Dutch will certainly be content to take eggs for their money2884 (that was his expression); or if we be beaten, we must be contented to make peace, and glad if we can have it without paying too dear for it. And withall we do rely wholly upon the Parliament’s giving us more money the next sitting, or else we are undone. Being gone hence, I took coach to the Old Exchange, but did not go into it, but to Mr. Cade’s, the stationer, stood till the shower was over, it being a great and welcome one after so much dry weather. Here I understand that Ogleby is putting out some new fables of his own, which will be very fine and very satyricall. Thence home to dinner, and after dinner carried my wife to her sister’s and I to Mr. Hales’s, to pay for my father’s picture, which cost me £10 the head and 25s. the frame. Thence to Lovett’s, who has now done something towards the varnishing of single paper for the making of books, which will do, I think, very well. He did also carry me to a Knight’s chamber in Graye’s Inne, where there is a frame of his making, of counterfeite tortoise shell, which indeed is most excellently done. Then I took him with me to a picture shop to choose a print for him to vernish, but did not agree for one then. Thence to my wife to take her up and so carried her home, and I at the office till late, and so to supper with my wife and to bed. I did this afternoon visit my Lord Bellasses, who professes all imaginable satisfaction in me. He spoke dissatisfiedly with Creed, which I was pleased well enough with. My Lord is going down to his garrison to Hull, by the King’s command, to put it in order for fear of an invasion which course I perceive is taken upon the seacoasts round; for we have a real apprehension of the King of France’s invading us.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner abroad to Lombard Street, there to reckon with Sir Robert Viner for some money, and did set all straight to my great content, and so home, and all the afternoon and evening at the office, my mind full at this time of getting my accounts over, and as much money in my hands as I can, for a great turne is to be feared in the times, the French having some great design (whatever it is) in hand, and our necessities on every side very great. The Dutch are now known to be out, and we may expect them every houre upon our coast. But our fleet is in pretty good readiness for them.
. Up, and within doors most of the morning, sending a porter (Sanders) up and down to several people to pay them money to clear my month’s debts everywhere, being mighty desirous to have all clear so soon as I can, and to that end did so much in settling my Tangier accounts clear. At noon dined, having first been down at Deptford and did a little business there and back again. After dinner to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, but I come a little too late, they were up, so I to several places about business, among others to Westminster Hall, and there did meet with Betty Michell at her own mother’s shop. I would fain have carried her home by water, but she was to sup at that end of the town. So I away to Whitehall, and thence, the Council being up, walked to St. James’s, and there had much discourse with Sir W. Coventry at his chamber, who I find quite weary of the war, decries our having any war at all, or himself to have been any occasion of it, that he hopes this will make us shy of any war hereafter, or to prepare better for it, believes that one overthrow on the Dutch side would make them desire peace, and that one on ours will make us willing to accept of one: tells me that Commissioner Pett is fallen infinitely under the displeasure of the Prince and Duke of Albemarle, not giving them satisfaction in the getting out of the fleet, and that the complaint he believes is come to the King, and by Sir W. Coventry’s discourse I find he do concur in it, and speaks of his having of no authority in the place where he is, and I do believe at least it will end in his being removed to some other yarde, and I am not sorry for it, but do fear that though he deserves as bad, yet at this time the blame may not be so well deserved. Thence home and to the office; where I met with a letter from Dover, which tells me (and it did come by express) that news is brought over by a gentleman from Callice that the Dutch fleet, 130 sail, are come upon the French coast; and that the country is bringing in picke-axes, and shovells, and wheelbarrows into Callice; that there are 6,000 men armed with head, back, and breast (Frenchmen) ready to go on board the Dutch fleet, and will be followed by 12,000 more. That they pretend they are to come to Dover; and that thereupon the Governor of Dover Castle is getting the victuallers’ provision out of the town into the Castle to secure it. But I do think this is a ridiculous conceit; but a little time will show. At night home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and mightily troubled all this morning with going to my Lord Mayor (Sir Thomas Bludworth,2885 a silly man, I think), and other places, about getting shipped some men that they have these two last nights pressed in the City out of houses: the persons wholly unfit for sea, and many of them people of very good fashion, which is a shame to think of, and carried to Bridewell they are, yet without being impressed with money legally as they ought to be. But to see how the King’s business is done; my Lord Mayor himself did scruple at this time of extremity to do this thing, because he had not money to pay the pressed-money to the men, he told me so himself; nor to take up boats to carry them down through bridge to the ships I had prepared to carry them down in; insomuch that I was forced to promise to be his paymaster, and he did send his City Remembrancer afterwards to the office, and at the table, in the face of the officers, I did there out of my own purse disburse £15 to pay for their pressing and diet last night and this morning; which is a thing worth record of my Lord Mayor. Busy about this all the morning, at noon dined and then to the office again, and all the afternoon till twelve at night full of this business and others, and among these others about the getting off men pressed by our officers of the fleet into the service; even our own men that are at the office, and the boats that carry us. So that it is now become impossible to have so much as a letter carried from place to place, or any message done for us: nay, out of Victualling ships full loaden to go down to the fleet, and out of the vessels of the officers of the Ordnance, they press men, so that for want of discipline in this respect I do fear all will be undone. Vexed with these things, but eased in mind by my ridding of a great deal of business from the office, I late home to supper and to bed. But before I was in bed, while I was undressing myself, our new ugly maid, Luce, had like to have broke her necke in the dark, going down our upper stairs; but, which I was glad of, the poor girl did only bruise her head, but at first did lie on the ground groaning and drawing her breath, like one a-dying. This month I end in much hurry of business, but in much more trouble in mind to think what will become of public businesses, having so many enemies abroad, and neither force nor money at all, and but little courage for ourselves, it being really true that the spirits of our seamen and commanders too are really broke by the last defeate with the Dutch, and this is not my conjecture only, but the real and serious thoughts of Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry, whom I have at distinct times heard the same thing come from with a great deal of grief and trouble. But, lastly, I am providing against a foule day to get as much money into my hands as I can, at least out of the public hands, that so, if a turne, which I fear, do come, I may have a little to trust to. I pray God give me good success in my choice how to dispose of what little I have, that I may not take it out of public hands, and put it into worse.
July 1666
. Up betimes, and to the office receiving letters, two or three one after another from Sir W. Coventry, and sent as many to him, being full of variety of business and hurry, but among the chiefest is the getting of these pressed men out of the City down the river to the fleet. While I was hard at it comes Sir W. Penn to town, which I little expected, having invited my Lady and her daughter Pegg to dine with me today; which at noon they did, and Sir W. Penn with them: and pretty merry we were. And though I do not love him, yet I find it necessary to keep in with him; his good service at Sheerness in getting out the fleet being much taken notice of, and reported to the King and Duke [of York], even from the Prince and Duke of Albemarle themselves, and made the most of to me and them by Sir W. Coventry: therefore I think it discretion, great and necessary discretion, to keep in with him. After dinner to the office again, where busy, and then down to Deptford to the yard, thinking to have seen Bagwell’s wife, whose husband is gone yesterday back to the fleet, but I did not see her, so missed what I went for, and so back to the Tower several times, about the business of the pressed men, and late at it till twelve at night, shipping of them. But, Lord! how some poor women did cry; and in my life I never did see such natural expression of passion as I did here in some women’s bewailing themselves, and running to every parcel of men that were brought, one after another, to look for their husbands, and wept over every vessel that went off, thinking they might be there, and looking after the ship as far as ever they could by moone-light, that it grieved me to the heart to hear them. Besides, to see poor patient labouring men and housekeepers, leaving poor wives and families, taking up on a sudden by strangers, was very hard, and that without press-money, but forced against all law to be gone. It is a great tyranny.2886 Having done this I to the Lieutenant of the Tower and bade him good night, and so away home and to bed.
. Up betimes, and forced to go to my Lord Mayor’s, about the business of the pressed men; and indeed I find him a mean man of understanding and dispatch of any public business. Thence out of curiosity to Bridewell to see the pressed men, where there are about 300; but so unruly that I durst not go among them: and they have reason to be so, having been kept these three days prisoners, with little or no victuals, and pressed out, and, contrary to all course of law, without press-money, and men that are not liable to it. Here I met with prating Colonel Cox, one of the City collonells heretofore a great presbyter: but to hear how the fellow did commend himself, and the service he do the King; and, like an asse, at Paul’s did take me out of my way on purpose to show me the gate (the little north gate) where he had two men shot close by him on each hand, and his own hair burnt by a bullet-shot in the insurrection of Venner, and himself escaped. Thence home and to the Tower to see the men from Bridewell shipped. Being rid of him I home to dinner, and thence to the Excise office by appointment to meet my Lord Bellasses and the Commissioners, which we did and soon dispatched, and so I home, and there was called by Pegg Penn to her house, where her father and mother, and Mrs. Norton, the second Roxalana,2887 a fine woman, indifferent handsome, good body and hand, and good mine, and pretends to sing, but do it not excellently. However I took pleasure there, and my wife was sent for, and Creed come in to us, and so there we spent the most of the afternoon. Thence weary of losing so much time I to the office, and thence presently down to Deptford; but to see what a consternation there is upon the water by reason of this great press, that nothing is able to get a waterman to appear almost. Here I meant to have spoke with Bagwell’s mother,2888 but her face was sore, and so I did not, but returned and upon the water found one of the vessels loaden with the Bridewell birds in a great mutiny, and they would not sail, not they; but with good words, and cajoling the ringleader into the Tower (where, when he was come, he was clapped up in the hole), they were got very quietly; but I think it is much if they do not run the vessel on ground. But away they went, and I to the Lieutenant of the Tower, and having talked with him a little, then home to supper very late and to bed weary.
. Being very weary, lay long in bed, then to the office and there sat all the day. At noon dined at home, Balty’s wife with us, and in very good humour I was and merry at dinner, and after dinner a song or two, and so I abroad to my Lord Treasurer’s (sending my sister home by the coach), while I stayed there by appointment to have met my Lord Bellasses and Commissioners of Excise, but they did not meet me, he being abroad. However Mr. Finch,2889 one of the Commissioners, I met there, and he and I walked two houres together in the garden, talking of many things; sometimes of Mr. Povy, whose vanity, prodigality, neglect of his business, and committing it to unfit hands hath undone him and outed him of all his public employments, and the thing set on foot by an accidental revivall of a business, wherein he had three or fours years ago, by surprise, got the Duke of York to sign to the having a sum of money paid out of the Excise, before some that was due to him, and now the money is fallen short, and the Duke never likely to be paid. This being revived hath undone Povy. Then we fell to discourse of the Parliament, and the great men there: and among others, Mr. Vaughan,2890 whom he reports as a man of excellent judgement and learning, but most passionate and opiniastre. He had done himself the most wrong (though he values it not), that is, the displeasure of the King in his standing so long against the breaking of the Act for a trienniall parliament; but yet do believe him to be a most loyal gentleman. He told me Mr. Prin’s character; that he is a man of mighty labour and reading and memory, but the worst judge of matters, or layer together of what he hath read, in the world; which I do not, however, believe him in; that he believes him very true to the King in his heart, but can never be reconciled to episcopacy; that the House do not lay much weight upon him, or anything he says. He told me many fine things, and so we parted, and I home and hard to work a while at the office and then home and till midnight about settling my last month’s accounts wherein I have been interrupted by public business, that I did not state them two or three days ago, but I do now to my great joy find myself worth above £5,600, for which the Lord’s name be praised! So with my heart full of content to bed. News come yesterday from Harwich, that the Dutch had appeared upon our coast with their fleet, and we believe did go to the Gun-fleet, and they are supposed to be there now; but I have heard nothing of them today. Yesterday Dr. Whistler, at Sir W. Penn’s, told me that Alexander Broome,2891 the great song-maker, is lately dead.
. Up, and visited very betimes by Mr. Sheply, who is come to town upon business from Hinchingbrooke, where he left all well. I out and walked along with him as far as Fleet Street, it being a fast day, the usual fast day for the plague, and few coaches to be had. Thanks be to God, the plague is, as I hear, increased but two this week; but in the country in several places it rages mightily, and particularly in Colchester, where it hath long been, and is believed will quite depopulate the place. To St. James’s, and there did our usual business with the Duke, all of us, among other things, discoursing about the places where to build ten great ships; the King and Council have resolved on none to be under third-rates; but it is impossible to do it, unless we have more money towards the doing it than yet we have in any view. But, however, the show must be made to the world. Thence to my Lord Bellasses to take my leave of him, he being going down to the North to look after the Militia there, for fear of an invasion. Thence home and dined, and then to the office, where busy all day, and in the evening Sir W. Penn come to me, and we walked together, and talked of the late fight. I find him very plain, that the whole conduct of the late fight was ill, and that that of truth’s all, and he tells me that it is not he, but two-thirds of the commanders of the whole fleet have told him so: they all saying, that they durst not oppose it at the Council of War, for fear of being called cowards, though it was wholly against their judgement to fight that day with the disproportion of force, and then we not being able to use one gun of our lower tier, which was a greater disproportion than the other. Besides, we might very well have stayed in the Downs without fighting, or anywhere else, till the Prince could have come up to them; or at least till the weather was fair, that we might have the benefit of our whole force in the ships that we had. He says three things must [be] remedied, or else we shall be undone by this fleet.
That we must fight in a line, whereas we fight promiscuously, to our utter and demonstrable ruin; the Dutch fighting otherwise; and we, whenever we beat them.
We must not desert ships of our own in distress, as we did, for that makes a captain desperate, and he will fling away his ship, when there is no hopes left him of succour.
That ships, when they are a little shattered, must not take the liberty to come in of themselves, but refit themselves the best they can, and stay out—many of our ships coming in with very small disablenesses.
He told me that our very commanders, nay, our very flag-officers, do stand in need of exercising among themselves, and discoursing the business of commanding a fleet; he telling me that even one of our flag-men in the fleet did not know which tacke lost the wind, or which kept it, in the last engagement. He says it was pure dismaying and fear that made them all run upon the Galloper, not having their wits about them; and that it was a miracle they were not all lost. He much inveighs upon my discoursing of Sir John Lawson’s saying heretofore, that sixty sail would do as much as one hundred; and says that he was a man of no counsel at all, but had got the confidence to say as the gallants did, and did propose to himself to make himself great by them, and saying as they did; but was no man of judgement in his business, but hath been out in the greatest points that have come before them. And then in the business of forecastles, which he did oppose, all the world sees now the use of them for shelter of men. He did talk very rationally to me, insomuch that I took more pleasure this night in hearing him discourse, than I ever did in my life in anything that he said. He gone I to the office again, and so after some business home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning busy, then at noon dined and Mr. Sheply with me, who come to town the other day. I lent him 630 in silver upon 30 pieces in gold. But to see how apt everybody is to neglect old kindnesses! I must charge myself with the ingratitude of being unwilling to lend him so much money without some pawne, if he should have asked it, but he did not aske it, poor man, and so no harm done. After dinner, he gone, I to my office and Lombard Street about money, and then to my office again, very busy, and so till late, and then a song with my wife and Mercer in the garden, and so with great content to bed.
. Up, and after doing some business at my office abroad to Lombard Street, about the getting of a good sum of money, thence home, in preparation for my having some good sum in my hands, for fear of a trouble in the State, that I may not have all I have in the world out of my hands and so be left a beggar. Having put that in a way, I home to the office, and so to the Tower; about shipping of some more pressed men, and that done, away to Broad Street, to Sir G. Carteret, who is at a pay of tickets all alone, and I believe not less than one thousand people in the streets. But it is a pretty thing to observe that both there and everywhere else, a man shall see many women nowadays of mean sort in the streets, but no men; men being so afeard of the press. I dined with Sir G. Carteret, and after dinner had much discourse about our public business; and he do seem to fear every day more and more what I do; which is, a general confusion in the State; plainly answering me to the question, who is it that the weight of the war depends [upon]? that it is only Sir W. Coventry. He tells me, too, the Duke of Albemarle is dissatisfied, and that the Duchess do curse Coventry as the man that betrayed her husband to the sea: though I believe that it is not so. Thence to Lombard Street, and received £2,000, and carried it home: whereof £1,000 in gold. The greatest quantity not only that I ever had of gold, but that ever I saw together, and is not much above half a 100 lb. bag full, but is much weightier. This I do for security sake, and convenience of carriage; though it costs me above £70 the change of it, at 18½d. per piece. Being at home, I there met with a letter from Bab Allen2892 to invite me to be godfather to her boy, with Mrs. Williams, which I consented to, but know not the time when it is to be. Thence down to the Old Swan, calling at Michell’s, he not being within, and there I did steal a kiss or two of her, and staying a little longer, he come in, and her father, whom I carried to Westminster, my business being thither, and so back again home, and very busy all the evening. At night a song in the garden and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, at noon dined at home and Creed with me, and after dinner he and I two or three hours in my chamber discoursing of the fittest way for a man to do that hath money, and find all he offers of turning some into gold and leaving some in a friend’s hand is nothing more than what I thought of myself, but is doubtful, as well as I, what is best to be done of all these or other ways to be thought on. He tells me he finds all things mighty dull at Court; and that they now begin to lie long in bed; it being, as we suppose, not seemly for them to be found playing and gaming as they used to be; nor that their minds are at ease enough to follow those sports, and yet not knowing how to employ themselves (though there be work enough for their thoughts and councils and pains), they keep long in bed. But he thinks with me, that there is nothing in the world can help us but the King’s personal looking after his business and his officers, and that with that we may yet do well; but otherwise must be undone: nobody at this day taking care of anything, nor hath anybody to call him to account for it. Thence left him and to my office all the afternoon busy, and in some pain in my back by some bruise or other I have given myself in my right testicle this morning, and the pain lies there and hath done, and in my back thereupon all this day. At night into the garden to my wife and Lady Penn and Pegg, and Creed, who stayed with them till 10 at night. My Lady Penn did give us a tarte and other things, and so broke up late and I to bed. It proved the hottest night that ever I was in in my life, and thundered and lightened all night long and rained hard. But, Lord! to see in what fears I lay a good while, hearing of a little noise of somebody walking in the house: so rung the bell, and it was my maids going to bed about one o’clock in the morning. But the fear of being robbed, having so much money in the house, was very great, and is still so, and do much disquiet me.
. Up, and pretty well of my pain, so that it did not trouble me at all, and I do clearly find that my pain in my back was nothing but only accompanied my bruise in my stones. To church, wife and Mercer and I, in expectation of hearing some mighty preacher today, Mrs. Mary Batelier sending us word so; but it proved our ordinary silly lecturer, which made me merry, and she laughed upon us to see her mistake. At noon W. Hewer dined with us, and a good dinner, and I expected to have had news sent me of Knipp’s christening today; but, hearing nothing of it, I did not go, though I fear it is but their forgetfulness and so I may disappoint them. To church, after dinner, again, a thing I have not done a good while before, go twice in one day. After church with my wife and Mercer and Tom by water through bridge to the Spring Garden at Fox Hall, and thence down to Deptford and there did a little business, and so back home and to bed.
. Up betimes, and with Sir W. Penn in his coach to Westminster to Sir G. Downing’s, but missed of him, and so we parted, I by water home, where busy all the morning, at noon dined at home, and after dinner to my office, where busy till come to by Lovett and his wife, who have brought me some sheets of paper varnished on one side, which lies very white and smooth and, I think, will do our business most exactly, and will come up to the use that I intended them for, and I am apt to believe will be an invention that will take in the world. I have made up a little book of it to give Sir W. Coventry tomorrow, and am very well pleased with it. Home with them, and there find my aunt Wight with my wife come to take her leave of her, being going for the summer into the country; and there was also Mrs. Mary Batelier and her sister, newly come out of France, a black, very black woman, but mighty good-natured people both, as ever I saw. Here I made the black one sing a French song, which she did mighty innocently; and then Mrs. Lovett play on the lute, which she do very well; and then Mercer and I sang; and so, with great pleasure, I left them, having showed them my chamber, and £1,000 in gold, which they wondered at, and given them sweetmeats, and shown my aunt Wight my father’s picture, which she admires. So I left them and to the office, where Mr. Moore come to me and talking of my Lord’s family business tells me that Mr. Sheply is ignorantly, we all believe, mistaken in his accounts above £700 more than he can discharge himself of, which is a mighty misfortune, poor man, and may undo him, and yet everybody believes that he do it most honestly. I am troubled for him very much. He gone, I hard at the office till night, then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning, sitting, and there presented Sir W. Coventry with my little book made up of Lovett’s varnished paper, which he and the whole board liked very well. At noon home to dinner and then to the office; the yarde being very full of women (I believe above three hundred) coming to get money for their husbands and friends that are prisoners in Holland; and they lay clamouring and swearing and cursing us, that my wife and I were afeard to send a venison-pasty that we have for supper tonight to the cook’s to be baked, for fear of their offering violence to it: but it went, and no hurt done. Then I took an opportunity, when they were all gone into the foreyarde, and slipt into the office and there busy all the afternoon, but by and by the women got into the garden, and come all to my closet window, and there tormented me, and I confess their cries were so sad for money, and laying down the condition of their families and their husbands, and what they have done and suffered for the King, and how ill they are used by us, and how well the Dutch are used here by the allowance of their masters, and what their husbands are offered to serve the Dutch abroad, that I do most heartily pity them, and was ready to cry to hear them, but cannot help them. However, when the rest were gone, I did call one to me that I heard complaine only and pity her husband and did give her some money, and she blessed me and went away. Anon my business at the office being done I to the Tower to speak with Sir John Robinson about business, principally the bad condition of the pressed men for want of clothes, so it is represented from the fleet, and so to provide them shirts and stockings and drawers. Having done with him about that, I home and there find my wife and the two Mrs. Bateliers walking in the garden. I with them till almost 9 at night, and then they and we and Mrs. Mercer, the mother, and her daughter Anne, and our Mercer, to supper to a good venison-pasty and other good things, and had a good supper, and very merry, Mistresses Bateliers being both very good-humoured. We sang and talked, and then led them home, and there they made us drink; and, among other things, did show us, in cages, some birds brought from about Bourdeaux, that are all fat, and, examining one of them, they are so, almost all fat. Their name is [Ortolans],2893 which are brought over to the King for him to eat, and indeed are excellent things. We parted from them and so home to bed, it being very late, and to bed.
. Up, and by water to Sir G. Downing’s, there to discourse with him about the reliefe of the prisoners in Holland; which I did, and we do resolve of the manner of sending them some. So I away by coach to St. James’s, and there hear that the Duchess is lately brought to bed of a boy.2894 By and by called to wait on the Duke, the King being present; and there agreed, among other things, of the places to build the ten new great ships ordered to be built, and as to the relief of prisoners in Holland. And then about several stories of the baseness of the King of Spain’s being served with officers: they in Flanders having as good common men as any Prince in the world, but the veriest cowards for the officers, nay for the general officers, as the General and Lieutenant-general, in the whole world. But, above all things, the King did speake most in contempt of the ceremoniousness of the King of Spain, that he do nothing but under some ridiculous form or other, and will not piss but another must hold the chamberpot. Thence to Westminster Hall and there stayed a while, and then to the Swan and kissed Sarah, and so home to dinner, and after dinner out again to Sir Robert Viner, and there did agree with him to accommodate some business of tallies so as I shall get in near £2,000 into my own hands, which is in the King’s, upon tallies; which will be a pleasure to me, and satisfaction to have a good sum in my own hands, whatever evil disturbances should be in the State; though it troubles me to lose so great a profit as the King’s interest of ten percent for that money. Thence to Westminster, doing several things by the way, and there failed of meeting Mrs. Lane, and so by coach took up my wife at her sister’s, and so away to Islington, she and I alone, and so through Hackney, and home late, our discourse being about laying up of some money safe in prevention to the troubles I am afeard we may have in the state, and so sleepy (for want of sleep the last night, going to bed late and rising betimes in the morning) home, but when I come to the office, I there met with a command from my Lord Arlington, to go down to a galiot at Greenwich, by the King’s particular command, that is going to carry the Savoy Envoye over, and we fear there may be many Frenchmen there on board; and so I have a power and command to search for and seize all that have not passes from one of the Secretaries of State, and to bring them and their papers and everything else in custody some whither. So I to the Tower, and got a couple of musketeers with me, and Griffen and my boy Tom and so down; and, being come, found none on board but two or three servants, looking to horses and dogs, there on board, and, seeing no more, I stayed not long there, but away and on shore at Greenwich, the night being late and the tide against us; so, having sent before, to Mrs. Clerke’s and there I had a good bed, and well received, the whole people rising to see me, and among the rest young Mrs. Daniel, whom I kissed again and again alone, and so by and by to bed and slept pretty well,
. But was up again by five o’clock, and was forced to rise, having much business, and so up and dressed myself (enquiring, was told that Mrs. Tooker was gone hence to live at London) and away with Poundy to the Tower, and thence, having shifted myself, but being mighty drowsy for want of sleep, I by coach to St. James’s, to Goring House,2895 there to wait on my Lord Arlington to give him an account of my night’s worke, but he was not up, being not long since married:2896 so, after walking up and down the house below—being the house I was once at Hartlib’s2897 sister’s wedding, and is a very fine house and finely furnished—and then thinking it too much for me to lose time to wait my Lord’s rising, I away to St. James’s, and there to Sir W. Coventry, and wrote a letter to my Lord Arlington giving him an account of what I have done, and so with Sir W. Coventry into London, to the office. And all the way I observed him mightily to make mirth of the Duke of Albemarle and his people about him, saying, that he was the happiest man in the world for doing of great things by sorry instruments. And so particularized in Sir W. Clerke, and Riggs, and Halsey, and others. And then again said that the only quality eminent in him was, that he did persevere; and indeed he is a very drudge, and stands by the King’s business. And this he said, that one thing he was good at, that he never would receive an excuse if the thing was not done; listening to no reasoning for it, be it good or bad. But then I told him, what he confessed, that he would however give the man, that he employs, orders for removing of any obstruction that he thinks he shall meet with in the world, and instanced in several warrants that he issued for breaking open of houses and other outrages about the business of prizes, which people bore with either for affection or fear, which he believes would not have been borne with from the King, nor Duke, nor any man else in England, and I think he is in the right, but it is not from their love of him, but from something else I cannot presently say. Sir W. Coventry did further say concerning Warcupp, his kinsman, that had the simplicity to tell Sir W. Coventry, that the Duke did intend to go to sea and to leave him his agent on shore for all things that related to the sea. But, says Sir W. Coventry, I did believe but the Duke of York would expect to be his agent on shore for all sea matters. And then he begun to say what a great man Warcupp was, and something else, and what was that but a great lyer; and told me a story, how at table he did, they speaking about antipathies, say, that a rose touching his skin anywhere, would make it rise and pimple;2898 and, by and by, the dessert coming, with roses upon it, the Duchess2899 bid him try, and they did; but they rubbed and rubbed, but nothing would do in the world, by which his lie was found at then. He spoke contemptibly of Holmes and his mermidons, that come to take down the ships from hence, and have carried them without any necessaries, or anything almost, that they will certainly be longer getting ready than if they had stayed here. In fine, I do observe, he hath no esteem nor kindness for the Duke’s matters, but, contrarily, do slight him and them; and I pray God the Kingdom do not pay too dear by this jarring; though this blockheaded Duke I did never expect better from. At the office all the morning, at noon home and thought to have slept, my head all day being full of business and yet sleepy and out of order, and so I lay down on my bed in my gown to sleep, but I could not, therefore about three o’clock up and to dinner and thence to the office, where Mrs. Burroughs, my pretty widow, was and so I did her business and sent her away by agreement, and presently I by coach after and took her up in Fenchurch Street and away through the City, hiding my face as much as I could, but she being mighty pretty and well enough clad, I was not afeard, but only lest somebody should see me and think me idle. I quite through with her, and so into the fields Uxbridge way, a mile or two beyond Tyburne, and then back and then to Paddington, and then back to Lyssen green,2900 a place the coachman led me to (I never knew in my life) and there we eat and drank and so back to Charing Crosse, and there I set her down. All the way most excellent pretty company. I had her lips as much as I would, and a mighty pretty woman she is and very modest and yet kinde in all fair ways. All this time I passed with mighty pleasure, it being what I have for a long time wished for, and did pay this day 5s. forfeite for her company. She being gone, I to Whitehall and there to Lord Arlington’s, and met Mr. Williamson, and find there is no more need of my trouble about the Galiot, so with content departed, and went straight home, where at the office did the most at the office in that wearied and sleepy state I could, and so home to supper, and after supper falling to singing with Mercer did however sit up with her, she pleasing me with her singing of “Help, Help,”2901 till past midnight and I not a whit drowsy, and so to bed.
. Lay sleepy in bed till 8 in the morning, then up and to the office, where till about noon, then out to the ’Change and several places, and so home to dinner. Then out again to Sir R. Viner, and there to my content settled the business of two tallies, so as I shall have £2,000 almost more of my own money in my hand, which pleases me mightily, and so home and there to the office, where mighty busy, and then home to supper and to even my Journal and to bed. Our fleet being now in all points ready to sail, but for the carrying of the two or three new ships, which will keepe them a day or two or three more. It is said the Dutch is gone off our coast, but I have no good reason to believe it, Sir W. Coventry not thinking any such thing.
. Up betimes to the office, to write fair a laborious letter I wrote as from the Board to the Duke of York, laying out our want of money again; and particularly the business of Captain Cocke’s tender2902 of hemp, which my Lord Brouncker brought in under an unknown hand without name. Wherein his Lordship will have no great success, I doubt. That being done, I down to Thames Street, and there agreed for four or five tons of corke, to send this day to the fleet, being a new device to make barricados with, instead of junke. By this means I come to see and kiss Mr. Hill’s young wife, and a blithe young woman she is. So to the office and at noon home to dinner, and then sent for young Michell and employed him all the afternoon about weighing and shipping off of the corke, having by this means an opportunity of getting him 30 or 40s. Having set him a doing, I home and to the office very late, very busy, and did indeed dispatch much business, and so to supper and to bed. After a song in the garden, which, and after dinner, is now the greatest pleasure I take, and indeed do please me mightily, to bed, after washing my legs and feet with warm water in my kitchen. This evening I had Davila2903 brought home to me, and find it a most excellent history as ever I read.
. Up, and to church, where our lecturer made a sorry silly sermon, upon the great point of proving the truth of the Christian religion. Home and had a good dinner, expecting Mr. Hunt, but there comes only young Michell and his wife, whom my wife concurs with me to be a pretty woman, and with her husband is a pretty innocent couple. Mightily pleasant we were, and I mightily pleased in her company and to find my wife so well pleased with them also. After dinner he and I walked to Whitehall, not being able to get a coach. He to the Abbey, and I to Whitehall, but met with nobody to discourse with, having no great mind to be found idling there, and be asked questions of the fleet, so walked only through to the Park, and there, it being mighty hot and I weary, lay down by the canaille, upon the grasse, and slept awhile, and was thinking of a lampoone which hath run in my head this weeke, to make upon the late fight at sea, and the miscarriages there; but other businesses put it out of my head. Having lain there a while, I then to the Abbey and there called Michell, and so walked in great pain, having new shoes on, as far as Fleet Street and there got a coach, and so in some little ease home and there drank a great deal of small beer; and so took up my wife and Betty Michell and her husband, and away into the fields, to take the air, as far as beyond Hackney, and so back again, in our way drinking a great deal of milke, which I drank to take away my heartburne, wherewith I have of late been mightily troubled, but all the way home I did break abundance of wind behind, which did presage no good but a great deal of cold gotten. So home and supped and away went Michell and his wife, of whom I stole two or three salutes, and so to bed in some pain and in fear of more, which accordingly I met with, for I was in mighty pain all night long of the winde griping of my belly and making of me shit often and vomit too, which is a thing not usual with me, but this I impute to the milke that I drank after so much beer, but the cold, to my washing my feet the night before.
. Lay in great pain in bed all the morning and most of the afternoon, being in much pain, making little or no water, and indeed having little within to make any with. And had great twinges with the wind all the day in my belly with wind. And a looseness with it, which however made it not so great as I have heretofore had it. A wonderful dark sky, and shower of rain this morning, which at Harwich proved so too with a shower of hail as big as walnuts. I had some broth made me to drink, which I love, only to fill up room. Up in the afternoon, and passed the day with Balty, who is come from sea for a day or two before the fight, and I perceive could be willing fairly to be out of the next fight, and I cannot much blame him, he having no reason by his place to be there; however, would not have him to be absent, manifestly to avoid being there. At night grew a little better and took a glyster of sacke, but taking it by halves it did me not much good, I taking but a little of it. However, to bed, and had a pretty good night of it,
. So as to be able to rise to go to the office and there sat, but now and then in pain, and without making much water, or freely. However, it grew better and better, so as after dinner believing the jogging in a coach would do me good, I did take my wife out to the New Exchange to buy things. She there while I with Balty went and bought a common riding-cloake for myself, to save my best. It cost me but 30s., and will do my turne mighty well. Thence home and walked in the garden with Sir W. Penn a while, and saying how the riding in the coach do me good (though I do not yet much find it), he ordered his to be got ready while I did some little business at the office, and so abroad he and I after 8 o’clock at night, as far almost as Bow, and so back again, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I did bid Balty to agree with the Dutch paynter, which he once led me to, to see landskipps, for a winter piece of snow, which indeed is a good piece, and costs me but 40s., which I would not take the money again for, it being, I think, very good. After a little supper to bed, being in less pain still, and had very good rest.
. Up in good case, and so by coach to St. James’s after my fellows, and there did our business, which is mostly every day to complain of want of money, and that only will undo us in a little time. Here, among other things, before us all, the Duke of York did say, that now at length he is come to a sure knowledge that the Dutch did lose in the late engagements twenty-nine captains and thirteen ships. Upon which Sir W. Coventry did publicly move, that if his Royal Highness had this of a certainty, it would be of use to send this down to the fleet, and to cause it to be spread about the fleet, for the recovering of the spirits of the officers and seamen; who are under great dejectedness for want of knowing that they did do anything against the enemy, notwithstanding all that they did to us. Which, though it be true, yet methought was one of the most dishonourable motions to our countrymen that ever was made; and is worth remembering. Thence with Sir W. Penn home, calling at Lilly’s,2904 to have a time appointed when to be drawn among the other Commanders of Flags the last year’s fight. And so full of work Lilly is, that he was fain to take his table-book out to see how his time is appointed, and appointed six days hence for him to come between seven and eight in the morning. Thence with him home; and there by appointment I find Dr. Fuller, now Bishop of Limericke, in Ireland; whom I knew in his low condition at Twittenham.2905 I had also by his desire Sir W. Penn, and with him his lady and daughter, and had a good dinner, and find the Bishop the same good man as ever; and in a word, kind to us, and, methinks, one of the comeliest and most becoming prelates in all respects that ever I saw in my life. During dinner comes an acquaintance of his, Sir Thomas Littleton;2906 whom I knew not while he was in my house, but liked his discourse; and afterwards, by Sir W. Penn, do come to know that he is one of the greatest speakers in the House of Commons, and the usual second to the great Vaughan. So was sorry I did observe him no more, and gain more of his acquaintance. After dinner, they being gone, and I mightily pleased with my guests, I down the river to Greenwich, about business, and thence walked to Woolwich, reading The Rivall Ladies all the way, and find it a most pleasant and fine writ play. At Woolwich saw Mr. Shelden, it being late, and there eat and drank, being kindly used by him and Bab, and so by water to Deptford, it being 10 o’clock before I got to Deptford, and dark, and there to Bagwell’s, and, having stayed there a while, away home, and after supper to bed. The Duke of York said this day that by the letters from the Generals they would sail with the Fleet this day or tomorrow.
. Up in very good health in every respect, only my late fever got by my pain do break out about my mouth. So to the office, where all the morning sitting. Full of wants of money, and much stores to buy, for to replenish the stores, and no money to do it with, nor anybody to trust us without it. So at noon home to dinner, Balty and his wife with us. By and by Balty takes his leave of us, he going away just now towards the fleet, where he will pass through one great engagement more before he be two days older, I believe. I to the office, where busy all the afternoon, late, and then home, and, after some pleasant discourse to my wife, to bed. After I was in bed I had a letter from Sir W. Coventry that tells me that the fleet is sailed this morning; God send us good news of them!
. Up, and finding by a letter late last night that the fleet is gone, and that Sir W. Penn is ordered to go down to Sheerness, and finding him ready to go to St. James’s this morning, I was willing to go with him to see how things go,2907 and so with him thither (but no discourse with the Duke), but to Whitehall, and there the Duke of York did bid Sir W. Penn to stay to discourse with him and the King about business of the fleet, which troubled me a little, but it was only out of envy, for which I blame myself, having no reason to expect to be called to advise in a matter I understand not. So I away to Lovett’s, there to see how my picture goes on to be varnished (a fine Crucifix),2908 which will be very fine; and here I saw some fine prints, brought from France by Sir Thomas Crew, who is lately returned. So home, calling at the stationer’s for some paper fit to varnish, and in my way home met with Lovett, to whom I gave it, and he did present me with a varnished staffe, very fine and light to walk with. So home and to dinner, there coming young Mrs. Daniel and her sister Sarah, and dined with us; and old Mr. Hawly, whose condition pities me, he being forced to turne under parish-clerke at St. Gyles’s, I think at the other end of the town. Thence I to the office, where busy all the afternoon, and in the evening with Sir W. Penn, walking with whom in the garden I am of late mighty great, and it is wisdom to continue myself so, for he is of all the men of the office at present most manifestly useful and best thought of. He and I supped together upon the seat in the garden, and thence, he gone, my wife and Mercer come and walked and sang late, and then home to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning sitting. At noon walked in the garden with Commissioner Pett (newly come to town), who tells me how infinite the disorders are among the commanders and all officers of the fleet. No discipline: nothing but swearing and cursing, and everybody doing what they please; and the Generals, understanding no better, suffer it, to the reproaching of this Board, or whoever it will be. He himself hath been challenged twice to the field, or something as good, by Sir Edward Spragge and Captain Seymour. He tells me that captains carry, for all the late orders, what men they please; demand and consume what provisions they please. So that he fears, and I do no less, that God Almighty cannot bless us while we keep in this disorder that we are in: he observing to me too, that there is no man of counsel or advice in the fleet; and the truth is, the gentlemen captains will undo us, for they are not to be kept in order, their friends about the King and Duke, and their own house, is so free, that it is not for any person but the Duke himself to have any command over them. He gone I to dinner, and then to the office, where busy all the afternoon. At night walked in the garden with my wife, and so I home to supper and to bed. Sir W. Penn is gone down to Sheerness today to see things made ready against the fleet shall come in again, which makes Pett mad, and calls him dissembling knave, and that himself takes all the pains and is blamed, while he do nothing but hinder business and takes all the honour of it to himself, and tells me plainly he will fling up his commission rather than bear it.
. Up, and to my chamber, and there till noon mighty busy, setting money matters and other things of mighty moment to rights to the great content of my mind, I finding that accounts but a little let go can never be put in order by strangers, for I cannot without much difficulty do it myself. After dinner to them again till about four o’clock and then walked to Whitehall, where saw nobody almost but walked up and down with Hugh May, who is a very ingenious man. Among other things, discoursing of the present fashion of gardens to make them plain, that we have the best walks of gravell in the world, France having no nor Italy; and our green of our bowling alleys is better than any they have. So our business here being air, this is the best way, only with a little mixture of statues, or pots, which may be handsome, and so filled with another pot of such and such a flower or greene as the season of the year will bear. And then for flowers, they are best seen in a little plat by themselves; besides, their borders spoil the walks of another garden: and then for fruit, the best way is to have walls built circularly one within another, to the South, on purpose for fruit, and leave the walking garden only for that use. Thence walked through the House, where most people mighty hush and, methinks, melancholy. I see not a smiling face through the whole Court; and, in my conscience, they are doubtful of the conduct again of the Generals, and I pray God they may not make their fears reasonable. Sir Richard Fanshaw is lately dead2909 at Madrid. Guyland is lately overthrown wholly in Barbary by the King of Tafiletta. The fleet cannot yet get clear of the River, but expect the first wind to be out, and then to be sure they fight. The Queen and Maids of Honour are at Tunbridge.
. Up, and to my chamber doing several things there of moment, and then comes Sympson, the Joiner; and he and I with great pains contriving presses to put my books up in: they now growing numerous, and lying one upon another on my chairs, I lose the use to avoid the trouble of removing them, when I would open a book. Thence out to the Excise office about business, and then homewards met Colvill, who tells me he hath £1,000 ready for me upon a tally; which pleases me, and yet I know not now what to do with it, having already as much money as is fit for me to have in the house, but I will have it. I did also meet Alderman Backewell, who tells me of the hard usage he now finds from Mr. Fen, in not getting him a bill or two paid, now that he can be no more useful to him; telling me that what by his being abroad and Shaw’s death he hath lost the ball, but that he doubts not to come to give a kicke at it still, and then he shall be wiser and keepe it while he hath it. But he says he hath a good master, the King, who will not suffer him to be undone,2910 as otherwise he must have been, and I believe him. So home and to dinner, where I confess, reflecting upon the ease and plenty that I live in, of money, goods, servants, honour, everything, I could not but with hearty thanks to Almighty God ejaculate my thanks to Him while I was at dinner, to myself. After dinner to the office and there till five or six o’clock, and then by coach to St. James’s and there with Sir W. Coventry and Sir G. Downing to take the air in the Park. All full of expectation of the fleet’s engagement, but it is not yet. Sir W. Coventry says they are eighty-nine men-of-war, but one fifth-rate, and that, the Sweepstakes, which carries forty guns. They are most infinitely manned. He tells me the Loyal London, Sir J. Smith (which, by the way, he commends to be the-best ship in the world, large and small), hath above eight hundred men; and moreover takes notice, which is worth notice, that the fleet hath lane now near fourteen days without any demand for a farthingworth of anything of any kind, but only to get men. He also observes, that with this excess of men, nevertheless, they have thought fit to leave behind them sixteen ships, which they have robbed of their men, which certainly might have been manned, and they been serviceable in the fight, and yet the fleet well-manned, according to the excess of supernumeraries, which we hear they have. At least two or three of them might have been left manned, and sent away with the Gottenburgh ships. They conclude this to be much the best fleet, for force of guns, greatness and number of ships and men, that ever England did see; being, as Sir W. Coventry reckons, besides those left behind, eighty-nine men of war and twenty fire-ships, though we cannot hear that they have with them above eighteen. The French are not yet joined with the Dutch, which do dissatisfy the Hollanders, and if they should have a defeat, will undo De Witt;2911 the people generally of Holland do hate this league with France. We cannot think of any business, but lie big with expectation of the issue of this fight, but do conclude that, this fight being over, we shall be able to see the whole issue of the war, good or bad. So homeward, and walked over the Park (St. James’s) with Sir G. Downing, and at Whitehall took a coach; and there to supper with much pleasure and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where little business done, our heads being full of expectation of the fleet’s being engaged, but no certain notice of it, only Sheppeard in the Duke’s yacht left them yesterday morning within a league of the Dutch fleet, and making after them, they standing into the sea. At noon to dinner, and after dinner with Mercer (as of late my practice is) a song and so to the office, there to set up again my frames about my Plats, which I have got to be all gilded, and look very fine, and then to my business, and busy very late, till midnight, drawing up a representation of the state of my victualling business to the Duke, I having never appeared to him doing anything yet and therefore I now do it in writing, I now having the advantage of having had two fleetes dispatched in better condition than ever any fleetes were yet, I believe; at least, with least complaint, and by this means I shall with the better confidence get my bills out for my salary. So home to bed.
. Up betimes to write fair my last night’s paper for the Duke, and so along with Sir W. Batten by hackney coach to St. James’s, where the Duke is gone abroad with the King to the Park, but anon come back to Whitehall, and we, after an houre’s waiting, walked thither (I having desired Sir W. Coventry in his chamber to read over my paper about the victualling, which he approves of, and I am glad I showed it him first, it makes it the less necessary to show it the Duke at all, if I find it best to let it alone). At Whitehall we find [the Court] gone to Chapel, it being St. James’s-day. And by and by, while they are at chapel, and we waiting chapel being done, come people out of the Park, telling us that the guns are heard plain. And so everybody to the Park, and by and by the chapel done, and the King and Duke into the bowling-green, and upon the leads, whither I went, and there the guns were plain to be heard; though it was pretty to hear how confident some would be in the loudness of the guns, which it was as much as ever I could do to hear them. By and by the King to dinner, and I waited there his dining; but, Lord! how little I should be pleased, I think, to have so many people crowding about me; and among other things it astonished me to see my Lord Barkeshire2912 waiting at table, and serving the King drink, in that dirty pickle as I never saw man in my life. Here I met Mr. Williams, who in serious discourse told me he did hope well of this fight because of the equality of force or rather our having the advantage in number, and also because we did not go about it with the presumption that we did heretofore, when, he told me, he did before the last fight look upon us by our pride fated to be overcome. He would have me to dine where he was invited to dine, at the Back-stairs. So after the King’s meat was taken away, we thither; but he could not stay, but left me there among two or three of the King’s servants, where we dined with the meat that come from his table; which was most excellent, with most brave drink cooled in ice (which at this hot time was welcome), and I drinking no wine, had metheglin for the King’s own drinking, which did please me mightily. Thence, having dined mighty nobly, I away to Mrs. Martin’s new lodgings, where I find her, and was with her close, but, Lord! how big she is already. She is, at least seems, in mighty trouble for her husband at sea, when I am sure she cares not for him, and I would not undeceive her, though I know his ship is one of those that is not gone, but left behind without men. Thence to Whitehall again to hear news, but found none; so back toward Westminster, and there met Mrs. Burroughs, whom I had a mind to meet, but being undressed did appear a mighty ordinary woman. Thence by water home, and out again by coach to Lovett’s to see my Crucifix, which is not done. So to Whitehall again to have met Sir G. Carteret, but he is gone, abroad, so back homewards, and seeing Mr. Spong took him up, and he and I to Reeves, the glass maker’s, and did set several glasses and had pretty discourse with him, and so away, and set down Mr. Spong in London, and so home and with my wife, late, twatling at my Lady Penn’s, and so home to supper and to bed. I did this afternoon call at my woman that ruled my paper to bespeak a music card, and there did kiss Nan. No news tonight from the fleet how matters go yet.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home: Mr. Hunt and his wife, who is very gallant, and newly come from Cambridge, because of the sickness, with us. Very merry at table, and the people I do love mightily, but being in haste to go to Whitehall I rose, and Mr. Hunt with me, and by coach thither, where I left him in the boarded gallery, and I by appointment to attend the Duke of York at his closet, but being not come, Sir G. Carteret and I did talk together, and [he] advises me, that, if I could, I would get the papers of examination touching the business of the last year’s prizes, which concern my Lord Sandwich, out of Warcupp’s hands, who being now under disgrace and poor, he believes may be brought easily to part with them. My Lord Crew, it seems, is fearful yet that maters may be enquired into. This I will endeavour to do, though I do not think it signifies much. By and by the Duke of York comes and we had a meeting and, among other things, I did read my declaration of the proceedings of the Victualling hired this yeare, and desired his Royal Highness to give me the satisfaction of knowing whether his Royal Highness were pleased therewith. He told me he was, and that it was a good account, and that the business of the Victualling was much in a better condition than it was the last yeare; which did much joy me, being said in the company of my fellows, by which I shall be able with confidence to demand my salary and the rest of the subsurveyors. Thence away mightily satisfied to Mrs. Pierce’s, there to find my wife. Mrs. Pierce hath lain in of a boy about a month. The boy is dead this day. She lies in good state, and very pretty she is, but methinks do every day grow more and more great, and a little too much, unless they get more money than I fear they do. Thence with my wife and Mercer to my Lord Chancellor’s new house, and there carried them up to the leads, where I find my Lord Chamberlain, Lauderdale, Sir Robert Murray,2913 and others, and do find it the most delightful place for prospect that ever was in the world, and even ravishing me, and that is all, in short, I can say of it. Thence to Islington to our old house and eat and drank, and so round by Kingsland home, and there to the office a little and Sir W. Batten’s, but no news at all from the fleet, and so home to bed.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning busy. At noon dined at home and then to the office again, and there walking in the garden with Captain Cocke till 5 o’clock. No news yet of the fleet. His great bargaine of Hemp with us by his unknown proposition is disliked by the King, and so is quite off; of which he is glad, by this means being rid of his obligation to my Lord Brouncker, which he was tired with, and especially his mistress, Mrs. Williams, and so will fall into another way about it, wherein he will advise only with myself, which do not displease me, and will be better for him and the King too. Much common talk of public business, the want of money, the uneasiness that Parliament will find in raising any, and the ill condition we shall be in if they do not, and his confidence that the Swede is true to us, but poor, but would be glad to do us all manner of service in the world. He gone, I away by water from the Old Swan to Whitehall. The waterman tells me that news is come that our ship Resolution is burnt, and that we had sunke four or five of the enemy’s ships. When I come to Whitehall I met with Creed, and he tells me the same news, and walking with him to the Park I to Sir W. Coventry’s lodging, and there he showed me Captain Talbot’s letter, wherein he says that the fight begun on the 25th; that our White squadron begun with one of the Dutch squadrons, and then the Red with another so hot that we put them both to giving way, and so they continued in pursuit all the day, and as long as he stayed with them: that the Blue fell to the Zealand squadron; and after a long dispute, he against two or three great ships, he received eight or nine dangerous shots, and so come away; and says, he saw the Resolution burned by one of their fire-ships, and four or five of the enemy’s. But says that two or three of our great ships were in danger of being fired by our own fire-ships, which Sir W. Coventry, nor I, cannot understand. But upon the whole, he and I walked two or three turns in the Park under the great trees, and do doubt that this gallant is come away a little too soon, having lost never a mast nor sail. And then we did begin to discourse of the young gentlemen captains, which he was very free with me in speaking his mind of the unruliness of them; and what a losse the King hath of his old men, and now of this Hannam,2914 of the Resolution, if he be dead, and that there is but few old sober men in the fleet, and if these few of the Flags that are so should die, he fears some other gentlemen captains will get in, and then what a council we shall have, God knows. He told me how he is disturbed to hear the commanders at sea called cowards here on shore, and that he was yesterday concerned publicly at a dinner to defend them, against somebody that said that not above twenty of them fought as they should do, and indeed it is derived from the Duke of Albemarle himself, who wrote so to the King and Duke, and that he told them how they fought four days, two of them with great disadvantage. The Count de Guiche,2915 who was on board De Ruyter, writing his narrative home in French of the fight, do lay all the honour that may be upon the English courage above the Dutch, and that he himself [Sir W. Coventry] was sent down from the King and Duke of York after the fight, to pray them to spare none that they thought had not done their parts, and that they had removed but four, whereof Du Tell is one, of whom he would say nothing; but, it seems, the Duke of York hath been much displeased at his removal, and hath now taken him into his service,2916 which is a plain affront to the Duke of Albemarle; and two of the others, Sir W. Coventry did speake very slenderly of their faults. Only the last, which was old Teddiman, he says, is in fault, and hath little to excuse himself with; and that, therefore, we should not be forward in condemning men of want of courage, when the Generals, who are both men of metal, and hate cowards, and had the sense of our ill success upon them (and by the way must either let the world think it was the miscarriage of the Captains or their own conduct), have thought fit to remove no more of them, when desired by the King and Duke of York to do it, without respect to any favour any of them can pretend to in either of them. At last we concluded that we never can hope to beat the Dutch with such advantage as now in number and force and a fleet in want of nothing, and he hath often repeated now and at other times industriously that many of the Captains have: declared that they want nothing, and again, that they did lie ten days together at the Nore without demanding of anything in the world but men, and of them they afterward, when they went away, the generals themselves acknowledge that they have permitted several ships to carry supernumeraries, but that if we do not speede well, we must then play small games and spoile their trade in small parties. And so we parted, and I, meeting Creed in the Park again, did take him by coach and to Islington, thinking to have met my Lady Penn and wife, but they were gone, so we eat and drank and away back, setting him down in Cheapside and I home, and there after a little while making of my tune to “It is decreed,” to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where no more news of the fleet than was yesterday. Here we sat and at noon to dinner to the Pope’s Head, where my Lord Brouncker and his mistress dined and Commissioner Pett, Dr. Charleton,2917 and myself, entertained with a venison pasty by Sir W. Warren. Here very pretty discourse of Dr. Charleton’s, concerning Nature’s fashioning every creature’s teeth according to the food she intends them; and that men’s, it is plain, was not for flesh, but for fruit, and that he can at any time tell the food of a beast unknown by the teeth. My Lord Brouncker made one or two objections to it that creatures find their food proper for their teeth rather than that the teeth were fitted for the food, but the Doctor, I think, did well observe that creatures do naturally and from the first, before they have had experience to try, do love such a food rather than another, and that all children love fruit, and none brought to flesh, but against their wills at first. Thence with my Lord Brouncker to Whitehall, where no news. So to St. James’s to Sir W. Coventry, and there hear only of the Bredah’s2918 being come in and gives the same small account that the other did yesterday, so that we know not what is done by the body of the fleet at all, but conceive great reason to hope well. Thence with my Lord to his coach-house, and there put in his six horses into his coach, and he and I alone to Highgate. All the way going and coming I learning of him the principles of Optics, and what it is that makes an object seem less or bigger and how much distance do lessen an object, and that it is not the eye at all, or any rule in optics, that can tell distance, but it is only an act of reason comparing of one mark with another, which did both please and inform me mightily. Being come thither we went to my Lord Lauderdale’s house2919 to speake with him, about getting a man at Leith to join with one we employ to buy some prize goods for the King; we find [him] and his lady and some Scotch people at supper. Pretty odd company; though my Lord Brouncker tells me, my Lord Lauderdale is a man of mighty good reason and judgement. But at supper there played one of their servants upon the violin some Scotch tunes only; several, and the best of their country, as they seemed to esteem them, by their praising and admiring them: but, Lord! the strangest air that ever I heard in my life, and all of one cast. But strange to hear my Lord Lauderdale say himself that he had rather hear a cat mew, than the best music in the world; and the better the music, the more sicke it makes him; and that of all instruments, he hates the lute most, and next to that, the bagpipe. Thence back with my Lord to his house, all the way good discourse, informing of myself about optics still, and there left him and by a hackney home, and after writing three or four letters, home to supper and to bed.
. Up and all the morning in my chamber making up my accounts in my book with my father and brother and stating them. Towards noon before sermon was done at church comes news by a letter to Sir W. Batten, to my hand, of the late fight, which I sent to his house, he at church. But, Lord! with what impatience I stayed till sermon was done, to know the issue of the fight, with a thousand hopes and fears and thoughts about the consequences of either. At last sermon is done and he come home, and the bells immediately rung soon as the church was done. But coming; to Sir W. Batten to know the news, his letter said nothing of it; but all the town is full of a victory. By and by a letter from Sir W. Coventry tells me that we have the victory. Beat them into the Weelings;2920 had taken two of their great ships; but by the orders of the Generals they are burned. This being, methought, but a poor result after the fighting of two so great fleetes, and four days having no tidings of them, I was still impatient; but could know no more. So away home to dinner, where Mr. Spong and Reeves dined with me by invitation. And after dinner to our business of my microscope to be shown some of the observables of that, and then down to my office to looke in a dark room with my glasses and tube, and most excellently things appeared indeed beyond imagination. This was our worke all the afternoon trying the several glasses and several objects, among others, one of my plates, where the lines appeared so very plain that it is not possible to think how plain it was done. Thence satisfied exceedingly with all this we home and to discourse many pretty things, and so stayed out the afternoon till it began to be dark, and then they away and I to Sir W. Batten, where the Lieutenant of the Tower2921 was, and Sir John Minnes, and the news I find is no more or less than what I had heard before; only that our Blue squadron, it seems, was pursued the most of the time, having more ships, a great many, than its number allotted to her share. Young Seamour2922 is killed, the only captain slain. The Resolution burned; but, as they say, most of her [crew] and commander saved. This is all, only we keep the sea, which denotes a victory, or at least that we are not beaten; but no great matters to brag of, God knows. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and did some business in my chamber, then by and by comes my boy’s Lute-Master, and I did direct him hereafter to begin to teach him to play his part on the Theorbo, which he will do, and that in a little time I believe. So to the office, and there with Sir W. Warren, with whom I have spent no time a good while. We set right our business of the Lighters, wherein I think I shall get £100. At noon home to dinner and there did practise with Mercer one of my new tunes that I have got Dr. Childe to set me a base to and it goes prettily. Thence abroad to pay several debts at the end of the month, and so to Sir W. Coventry, at St. James’s, where I find him in his new closet, which is very fine, and well supplied with handsome books. I find him speak very slightly of the late victory: dislikes their staying with the fleet up their coast, believing that the Dutch will come out in fourteen days, and then we with our unready fleet, by reason of some of the ships being maymed, shall be in bad condition to fight them upon their own coast: is much dissatisfied with the great number of men, and their fresh demands of twenty-four victualling ships, they going out but the other day as full as they could stow. I asked him whether he did never desire an account of the number of supernumeraries, as I have done several ways, without which we shall be in great errour about the victuals; he says he has done it again and again, and if any mistake should happen they must thanke themselves. He spoke slightly of the Duke of Albemarle, saying, when De Ruyter come to give him a broadside—“Now,” says he, chewing of tobacco the while, “will this fellow come and give me two broadsides, and then he will run;” but it seems he held him to it two hours, till the Duke himself was forced to retreat to refit, and was towed off, and De Ruyter stayed for him till he come back again to fight. One in the ship saying to the Duke, “Sir, methinks De Ruyter hath given us more: than two broadsides;”—“Well,” says the Duke, “but you shall find him run by and by,” and so he did, says Sir W. Coventry; but after the Duke himself had been first made to fall off. The Resolution had all brass guns, being the same that Sir J. Lawson had in her in the Straights. It is observed that the two fleetes were even in number to one ship. Thence home; and to sing with my wife and Mercer in the garden; and coming in I find my wife plainly dissatisfied with me, that I can spend so much time with Mercer, teaching her to sing and could never take the pains with her. Which I acknowledge; but it is because that the girl do take music mighty readily, and she do not, and music is the thing of the world that I love most, and all the pleasure almost that I can now take. So to bed in some little discontent, but no words from me.
. Good friends in the morning and up to the office, where sitting all the morning, and while at table we were mightily joyed with news brought by Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten of the death of De Ruyter, but when Sir W. Coventry come, he told us there was no such thing, which quite dashed me again, though, God forgive me! I was a little sorry in my heart before lest it might give occasion of too much glory to the Duke of Albemarle. Great bandying this day between Sir W. Coventry and my Lord Brouncker about Captain Cocke, which I am well pleased with, while I keepe from any open reliance on either side, but rather on Sir W. Coventry’s. At noon had a haunch of venison boiled and a very good dinner besides, there dining with me on a sudden invitation the two maiden sisters, Bateliers, and their elder brother, a pretty man, understanding and well discoursed, much pleased with his company. Having dined myself I rose to go to a Committee of Tangier, and did come thither time enough to meet Povy and Creed and none else. The Court being empty, the King being gone to Tunbridge, and the Duke of York a-hunting. I had some discourse with Povy, who is mightily discontented, I find, about his disappointments at Court; and says, of all places, if there be hell, it is here. No faith, no truth, no love, nor any agreement between man and wife, nor friends. He would have spoke broader, but I put it off to another time; and so parted. Then with Creed and read over with him the narrative of the late [fight], which he makes a very poor thing of, as it is indeed, and speaks most slightingly of the whole matter. Povy discoursed with me about my Lord Peterborough’s £50 which his man did give me from him, the last year’s salary I paid him, which he would have Povy pay him again; but I have not taken it to myself yet, and therefore will most heartily return him, and mark him out for a coxcomb. Povy went down to Mr. Williamson’s, and brought me up this extract out of the Flanders’ letters today come: That Admiral Everson, and the Admiral and Vice-Admiral of Freezeland,2923 with many captains and men, are slain; that De Ruyter is safe, but lost 250 men out of his own ship; but that he is in great disgrace, and Trump in better favour; that Bankert’s ship is burned, himself hardly escaping with a few men on board De Haes; that fifteen captains are to be tried the seventh of August; and that the hangman was sent from Flushing to assist the Council of War. How much of this is true, time will show. Thence to Westminster Hall and walked an hour with Creed talking of the late fight, and observing the ridiculous management thereof and success of the Duke of Albemarle. Thence parted and to Mrs. Martin’s lodgings, and sat with her a while, and then by water home, all the way reading the Narrative of the late fight in order, it may be, to the making some marginal notes upon it. At the Old Swan found my Betty Michell at the door, where I stayed talking with her a pretty while, it being dusky, and kissed her and so away home and writ my letters, and then home to supper, where the brother and Mary Batelier are still and Mercer’s two sisters. They have spent the time dancing this afternoon, and we were very merry, and then after supper into the garden and there walked, and then home with them and then back again, my wife and I and the girl, and sang in the garden and then to bed. Colville was with me this morning, and to my great joy I could now have all my money in, that I have in the world. But the times being open again, I think it is best to keepe some of it abroad. Mighty well, and end this month in content of mind and body. The public matters looking more safe for the present than they did, and we having a victory over the Dutch just such as I could have wished, and as the kingdom was fit to bear, enough to give us the name of conquerors, and leave us masters of the sea, but without any such great matters done as should give the Duke of Albemarle any honour at all, or give him cause to rise to his former insolence.
August 1666
. Up betimes to the settling of my last month’s accounts, and I bless God I find them very clear, and that I am worth £5,700, the most that ever my book did yet make out. So prepared to attend the Duke of York as usual, but Sir W. Penn, just as I was going out, comes home from Sheerness, and held me in discourse about public business, till I come by coach too late to St. James’s, and there find that everything stood still, and nothing done for want of me. Thence walked over the Park with Sir W. Coventry, who I clearly see is not thoroughly pleased with the late management of the fight, nor with anything that the Generals do; only is glad to hear that De Ruyter is out of favour, and that this fight hath cost them 5,000 men, as they themselves do report. And it is a strange thing, as he observes, how now and then the slaughter runs on one hand; there being 5,000 killed on theirs, and not above 400 or 500 killed and wounded on ours, and as many flag-officers on theirs as ordinary captains in ours; there being Everson, and the Admiral and Vice-Admiral of Freezeland on theirs, and Seamour, Martin,2924 and ⸻, on ours. I left him going to Chapel, it being the common fast day, and the Duke of York at Chapel. And I to Mrs. Martin’s, but she abroad, so I sauntered to or again to the Abbey, and then to the parish church, fearful of being seen to do so, and so after the parish church was ended, I to the Swan and there dined upon a rabbit, and after dinner to Mrs. Martin’s, and there find Mrs. Burroughs, and by and by comes a pretty widow, one Mrs. Eastwood, and one Mrs. Fenton, a maid; and here merry kissing and looking on their breasts, and all the innocent pleasure in the world. But, Lord! to see the dissembling of this widow, how upon the singing of a certain jig by Doll, Mrs. Martin’s sister, she seemed to be sick and fainted and God knows what, because the jig, which her husband (who died this last sickness) loved. But by and by I made her as merry as is possible, and towzed and tumbled her as I pleased, and then carried her and her sober pretty kinswoman Mrs. Fenton home to their lodgings in the new market2925 of my Lord Treasurer’s, and there left them. Mightily pleased with this afternoon’s mirth, but in great pain to ride in a coach with them, for fear of being seen. So home, and there much pleased with my wife’s drawing today in her pictures, and so to supper and to bed very pleasant.
. [Up] and to the office, where we sat, and in discourse at the table with Sir W. Batten, I was obliged to tell him it was an untruth, which did displease him mightily, and parted at noon very angry with me. At home find Lovett, who brought me some papers varnished, and showed me my crucifix, which will be very fine when done. He dined with me and Balty’s wife, who is in great pain for her husband, not hearing of him since the fight; but I understand he was not in it, going hence too late, and I am glad of it. Thence to the office, and thither comes to me Creed, and he and I walked a good while, and then to the victualling office together, and there with Mr. Gawden I did much business, and so away with Creed again, and by coach to see my Lord Brouncker, who it seems was not well yesterday, but being come thither, I find his coach ready to carry him abroad, but Tom, his footman, whatever the matter was, was lothe to desire me to come in, but I walked a great while in the Piatza till I was going away, but by and by my Lord himself comes down and coldly received me. So I soon parted, having enough for my over officious folly in troubling myself to visit him, and I am apt to think that he was fearful that my coming was out of design to see how he spent his time [rather] than to enquire after his health. So parted, and I with Creed down to the New Exchange Stairs, and there I took water, and he parted, so home, and then down to Woolwich, reading and making an end of the Rival Ladies, and find it a very pretty play. At Woolwich, it being now night, I find my wife and Mercer, and Mr. Batelier and Mary there, and a supper getting ready. So I stayed, in some pain, it being late, and post night. So supped and merrily home, but it was twelve at night first. However, sent away some letters, and home to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Sir W. Batten and I sat to contract for some fire-ships. I there close all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then abroad to Sir Philip Warwicke’s at Whitehall about Tangier one quarter tallies, and there had some serious discourse touching money, and the case of the Navy, wherein all I could get of him was that we had the full understanding of the treasure as much as my Lord Treasurer himself, and knew what he can do, and that whatever our case is, more money cannot be got till the Parliament. So talked of getting an account ready as soon as we could to give the Parliament, and so very melancholy parted. So I back again, calling my wife at her sister’s, from whose husband we do now hear that he was safe this week, and going in a ship to the fleet from the buoy of the Nore, where he has been all this while, the fleet being gone before he got down. So home, and busy till night, and then to Sir W. Penn, with my wife, to sit and chat, and a small supper, and home to bed. The death of Everson, and the report of our success, beyond expectation, in the killing of so great a number of men, hath raised the estimation of the late victory considerably; but it is only among fools: for all that was but accidental. But this morning, getting Sir.W. Penn to read over the Narrative with me, he did sparingly, yet plainly, say that we might have intercepted their Zealand squadron coming home, if we had done our parts; and more, that we might have spooned before the wind as well as they, and have overtaken their ships in the pursuite, in all the while.2926
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and, at noon to dinner, and Mr. Cooke dined with us, who is lately come from Hinchingbroke,2927 who is also come to town: The family all well. Then I to the office, where very busy to state to Mr. Coventry the account of the victuals of the fleet, and late at it, and then home to supper and to bed. This evening, Sir W. Penn come into the garden, and walked with me, and told me that he had certain notice that at Flushing they are in great distraction. De Ruyter dares not come on shore for fear of the people; nor anybody open their houses or shops for fear of the tumult: which is a every good hearing.
. (Lord’s day). Up, and down to the Old Swan, and there called Betty Michell and her husband, and had two or three a long salutes from her out of sight of su mari, which pleased me mightily, and so carried them by water to West minster, and I to St. James’s, and there had a meeting before the Duke of York, complaining of want of money, but nothing done to any purpose, for want we shall, so that now our advices to him signify nothing. Here Sir W. Coventry did acquaint the Duke of York how the world do discourse of the ill method of our books, and that we would consider how to answer any enquiry which shall be made after our practice therein, which will I think concern the Controller most, but I shall make it a memento to myself. Thence walked to the Parish Church to have one look upon Betty Michell, and so away homeward by water, and landed to go to the church, where, I believe, Mrs. Horsely goes, by Merchant-tailors’ Hall, and there I find in the pulpit Elborough,2928 my old schoolfellow and a simple rogue, and yet I find him preaching a very good sermon, and in as right a parson-like manner, and in good manner too, as I have heard anybody; and the church very full, which is a surprising consideration; but I did not see her. So home, and had a good dinner, and after dinner with my wife, and Mercer, and Jane by water, all the afternoon up as high as Morclacke with great pleasure, and a fine day, reading over the second part of the Siege of Rhodes, with great delight. We landed and walked at Barne-elmes, and then at the Neat Houses I landed and bought a melon2929 and we did also land and eat and drink at Wandsworth, and so to the Old Swan, and thence walked home. It being a mighty fine cool evening, and there being come, my wife and I spent an houre in the garden, talking of our living in the country, when I shall be turned out of the office, as I fear the Parliament may find faults enough with the office to remove us all, and I am joyed to think in how good a condition I am to retire thither, and have wherewith very well to subsist. Nan, at Sir W. Penn’s, lately married to one Markeham, a kinsman of Sir W. Penn’s, a pretty wench she is.
. Up, and to the office a while, and then by water to my Lady Montagu’s, at Westminster, and there visited my Lord Hinchingbroke, newly come from Hinchingbroke, and find him a mighty sober gentleman, to my great content. Thence to Sir Ph. Warwicke and my Lord Treasurer’s, but failed in my business; so home and in Fenchurch Street met with Mr. Battersby; says he, “Do you see Dan Rawlinson’s2930 door shut up?” (which I did, and wondered). “Why,” says he, “after all the sickness, and himself spending all the last year in the country, one of his men is now dead of the plague, and his wife and one of his maids sicke, and himself shut up;” which troubles me mightily. So home; and there do hear also from Mrs. Sarah Daniel, that Greenwich is at this time much worse than ever it was, and Deptford too: and she told us that they believed all the town would leave the town and come to London; which is now the receptacle of all the people from all infected places. God preserve us! So by and by to dinner, and, after dinner in comes Mrs. Knipp, and I being at the office went home to her, and there I sat and talked with her, it being the first time of her being here since her being brought to bed. I very pleasant with her; but perceive my wife hath no great pleasure in her being here, she not being pleased with my kindness to her. However, we talked and sang, and were very pleasant. By and by comes Mr. Pierce and his wife, the first time she also hath been here since her lying-in, both having been brought to bed of boys, and both of them dead. And here we talked, and were pleasant, only my wife in a chagrin humour, she not being pleased with my kindness to either of them, and by and by she fell into some silly discourse wherein I checked her, which made her mighty pettish, and discoursed mighty offensively to Mrs. Pierce, which did displease me, but I would make no words, but put the discourse by as much as I could (it being about a report that my wife said was made of herself and meant by Mrs. Pierce, that she was grown a gallant, when she had but so few suits of clothes these two or three years, and a great deal of that silly discourse), and by and by Mrs. Pierce did tell her that such discourses should not trouble her, for there went as bad on other people, and particularly of herself at this end of the town, meaning my wife, that she was crooked, which was quite false, which my wife had the wit not to acknowledge herself to be the speaker of, though she has said it twenty times. But by this means we had little pleasure in their visit; however, Knipp and I sang, and then I offered them to carry them home, and to take my wife with me, but she would not go: so I with them, leaving my wife in a very ill humour, and very slighting to them, which vexed me. However, I would not be removed from my civility to them, but sent for a coach, and went with them; and, in our way, Knipp saying that she come out of doors without a dinner to us, I took them to Old Fish Street, to the very house and woman where I kept my wedding dinner,2931 where I never was since, and there I did give them a jole of salmon, and what else was to be had. And here we talked of the ill-humour of my wife, which I did excuse as much as I could, and they seemed to admit of it, but did both confess they wondered at it; but from thence to other discourse, and among others to that of my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams, who it seems do speake mighty hardly of me for my not treating them, and not giving her something to her closet, and do speake worse of my wife, and dishonourably, but it is what she do of all the world, though she be a whore herself; so I value it not. But they told me how poorly my Lord carried himself the other day to his kinswoman, Mrs. Howard, and was displeased because she called him uncle to a little gentlewoman that is there with him, which he will not admit of; for no relation is to be challenged from others to a lord, and did treat her thereupon very rudely and ungenteely. Knipp tells me also that my Lord keeps another woman besides Mrs. Williams; and that, when I was there the other day, there was a great hubbub in the house, Mrs. Williams being fallen sicke, because my Lord was gone to his other mistress, making her wait for him, till his return from the other mistress; and a great deal of do there was about it; and Mrs. Williams swounded at it, at the very time when I was there and wondered at the reason of my being received so negligently. I set them both at home, Knipp at her house, her husband being at the door; and glad she was to be found to have stayed out so long with me and Mrs. Pierce, and none else; and Mrs. Pierce at her house, and am mightily pleased with the discretion of her during the simplicity and offensiveness of my wife’s discourse this afternoon. I perceive by the new face at Mrs. Pierce’s door that our Mary is gone from her. So I home, calling on W. Joyce in my coach, and stayed and talked a little with him, who is the same silly prating fellow that ever he was, and so home, and there find my wife mightily out of order, and reproaching of Mrs. Pierce and Knipp as wenches, and I know not what. But I did give her no words to offend her, and quietly let all pass, and so to bed without any good looke or words to or from my wife.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and home to dinner, and then to the office again, being pretty good friends with my wife again, no angry words passed; but she finding fault with Mercer, suspecting that it was she that must have told Mary, that must have told her mistress of my wife’s saying that she was crooked. But the truth is, she is jealous of my kindness to her. After dinner, to the office, and did a great deal of business. In the evening comes Mr. Reeves, with a twelve-foote glasse, so I left the office and home, where I met Mr. Batelier with my wife, in order to our going tomorrow, by agreement, to Bow to see a dancing meeting. But, Lord! to see how soon I could conceive evil fears and thoughts concerning them; so Reeves and I and they up to the top of the house, and there we endeavoured to see the moon, and Saturne and Jupiter; but the heavens proved cloudy, and so we lost our labour, having taken pains to get things together, in order to the managing of our long glasse. So down to supper and then to bed, Reeves lying at my house, but good discourse I had from him: in his own trade, concerning glasses, and so all of us late to bed. I receive fresh intelligence that Deptford and Greenwich are now afresh exceedingly afflicted with the sickness more than ever.
. Up, and with Reeves walk as far as the Temple, doing some business in my way at my bookseller’s and elsewhere, and there parted, and I took coach, having first discoursed with Mr. Hooke a little, whom we met in the street, about the nature of sounds, and he did make me understand the nature of musicall sounds made by strings, mighty prettily; and told me that having come to a certain number of vibrations proper to make any tone, he is able to tell how many strokes a fly makes with her wings (those flies that hum in their flying) by the note that it answers to in music during their flying. That, I suppose, is a little too much refined; but his discourse in general of sound was mighty fine. There I left them, and myself by coach to St. James’s, where we attended with the rest of my fellows on the Duke, whom I found with two or three patches upon his nose and about his right eye, which come from his being struck with the bough of a tree the other day in his hunting; and it is a wonder it did not strike out his eye. After we had done our business with him, which is now but little, the want of money being such as leaves us little to do but to answer complaints of the want thereof, and nothing to offer to the Duke, the representing of our want of money being now become useless, I into the Park, and there I met with Mrs. Burroughs by appointment, and did agree (after discoursing of some business of hers) for her to meet me at New Exchange, while I by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, and then called at the New Exchange, and thence carried her by water to Parliament stairs, and I to the Exchequer about my Tangier quarter tallies, and that done I took coach and to the west door of the Abby, where she come to me, and I with her by coach to Lissen-greene where we were last, and stayed an hour or two before dinner could be got for us, I in the meantime having much pleasure with her, but all honest. And by and by dinner come up, and then to my sport again, but still honest; and then took coach and up and down in the country toward Acton, and then toward Chelsy, and so to Westminster, and there set her down where I took her up, with mighty pleasure in her company, and so I by coach home, and thence to Bow, with all the haste I could, to my Lady Pooly’s,2932 where my wife was with Mr. Batelier and his sisters, and there I found a noble supper, and everything exceeding pleasant, and their mother, Mrs. Batelier, a fine woman, but mighty passionate upon sudden news brought her of the loss of a dog borrowed of the Duke of Albemarle’s son to line a bitch of hers that is very pretty, but the dog was by and by found, and so all well again, their company mighty innocent and pleasant, we having never been here before. About ten o’clock we rose from table, and sang a song, and so home in two coaches (Mr. Batelier and his sister Mary and my wife and I in one, and Mercer alone in the other); and after being examined at Allgate, whether we were husbands and wives, home, and being there come, and sent away Mr. Batelier and his sister, I find Reeves there, it being a mighty fine bright night, and so upon my leads, though very sleepy, till one in the morning, looking on the moon and Jupiter, with this twelve-foote glasse and another of six foote, that he hath brought with him tonight, and the sights mighty pleasant, and one of the glasses I will buy, it being very useful. So to bed mighty sleepy, but with much pleasure. Reeves lying at my house again; and mighty proud I am (and ought to be thankful to God Almighty) that I am able to have a spare bed for my friends.
. Up and to the office to prepare business for the Board, Reeves being gone and I having lent him upon one of the glasses. Here we sat, but to little purpose, nobody coming at us but to ask for money, not to offer us any goods. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, being mightily pleased with a Virgin’s head that my wife is now doing of. In the evening to Lombard Street about money, to enable me to pay Sir G. Carteret’s £3,000, which he hath lodged in my hands, in behalf of his son and my Lady Jemimah, toward their portion, which, I thank God, I am able to do at a minute’s warning. In my [way] I inquired, and find Mrs. Rawlinson is dead of the sickness, and her maid continues mighty ill. He2933 himself is got out of the house. I met also with Mr. Evelyn in the street, who tells me the sad condition at this very day at Deptford for the plague, and more at Deale (within his precinct as one of the Commissioners for sick and wounded seamen), that the town is almost quite depopulated. Thence back home again, and after some business at my office, late, home to supper and to bed, I being sleepy by my late want of rest, notwithstanding my endeavouring to get a nap of an hour this afternoon after dinner. So home and to bed.
. Up and to my chamber; there did some business and then to my office, and towards noon by water to the Exchequer about my Tangier order, and thence back again and to the Exchange, where little news but what is in the book, and, among other things, of a man sent up for by the King and Council for saying that Sir W. Coventry did give intelligence to the Dutch of all our matters here. I met with Colvill, and he and I did agree about his lending me £1,000 upon a tally of £1,000 for Tangier. Thence to Sympson, the joiner, and I am mightily pleased with what I see of my presses for my books, which he is making for me. So homeward, and hear in Fenchurch Street, that now the maid also is dead at Mr. Rawlinson’s; so that there are three dead in all, the wife, a manservant, and maid-servant. Home to dinner, where sister Balty dined with us, and met a letter come to me from him. He is well at Harwich, going to the fleet. After dinner to the office, and anon with my wife and sister abroad, left them in Paternoster Row, while Creed, who was with me at the office, and I to Westminster; and leaving him in the Strand, I to my Lord Chancellor’s, and did very little business, and so away home by water, with more and more pleasure, I every time reading over my Lord Bacon’s Faber Fortunæ. So home, and there did little business, and then walked an hour talking of sundry things in the garden, and find him a cunning knave, as I always observed him to be, and so home to supper, and to bed. Pleased that this day I find, if I please, I can have all my money in that I have out of my hands, but I am at a loss whether to take it in or no, and pleased also to hear of Mrs. Barbara Sheldon’s good fortune, who is like to have Mr. Wood’s son, the mast-maker, a very rich man, and to be married speedily, she being already mighty fine upon it.
. Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where mighty pleased at my wife’s beginnings of a little Virgin’s head. To the office and did much business, and then to Mr. Colvill’s, and with him did come to an agreement about my £2,600 assignment on the Exchequer, which I had of Sir W. Warren; and, to my great joy, I think I shall get above £100 by it, but I must leave it to be finished on Monday. Thence to the office, and there did the remainder of my business, and so home to supper and to bed. This afternoon I hear as if we had landed some men upon the Dutch coasts, but I believe it is but a foolery either in the report or the attempt.
. Up and to my chamber, where busy all the morning, and my thoughts very much upon the manner of my removal of my closet things the next weeke into my present music room, if I find I can spare or get money to furnish it. By and by comes Reeves, by appointment, but did not bring the glasses and things I expected for our discourse and my information today, but we have agreed on it for next Sunday. By and by, in comes Betty Michell and her husband, and so to dinner, I mightily pleased with their company. We passed the whole day talking with them, but without any pleasure, but only her being there. In the evening, all parted, and I and my wife up to her closet to consider how to order that the next summer, if we live to it; and then down to my chamber at night to examine her kitchen accounts, and there I took occasion to fall out with her for her buying a laced handkercher and pinner without my leave. Though the thing is not much, yet I would not permit her begin to do so, lest worse should follow. From this we began both to be angry, and so continued till bed, and did not sleep friends.
. Up, without being friends with my wife, nor great enemies, being both quiet and silent. So out to Colvill’s, but he not being come to town yet, I to Paul’s Church-yarde, to treat with a bookbinder, to come and gild the backs of all my books, to make them handsome, to stand in my new presses, when they come. So back again to Colvill’s, and there did end our treaty, to my full content, about my Exchequer assignment of £2,600 of Sir W. Warren’s, for which I give him £170 to stand to the hazard of receiving it. So I shall get clear by it £230, which is a very good jobb. God be praised for it! Having done with him, then he and I took coach, and I carried him to Westminster, and there set him down, in our way speaking of several things. I find him a bold man to say anything of anybody, and finds fault with our great ministers of state that nobody looks after anything; and I thought it dangerous to be free with him, for I do not think he can keep counsel, because he blabs to me what hath passed between other people and him. Thence I to St. James’s, and there missed Sir W. Coventry; but taking up Mr. Robinson in my coach, I towards London, and there in the way met Sir W. Coventry, and followed him to Whitehall, where a little discourse very kind, and so I away with Robinson, and set him down at the ’Change, and thence I to Stokes2934 the goldsmith, and sent him to and again to get me £1,000 in gold; and so home to dinner, my wife and I friends, without any words almost of last night. After dinner, I abroad to Stokes, and there did receive £1,000 worth in gold, paying 18½d. and 19d. for others exchange. Home with them, and there to my office to business, and anon home in the evening, there to settle some of my accounts, and then to supper and to bed.
. (Thanksgiving day.)2935 Up, and comes Mr. Foley and his man, with a box of a great variety of carpenter’s and joiner’s tooles, which I had bespoke, to me, which please me mightily; but I will have more. Then I abroad down to the Old Swan, and there I called and kissed Betty Michell, and would have got her to go with me to Westminster, but I find her a little colder than she used to be, methought, which did a little molest me. So I away not pleased, and to Whitehall, where I find them at Chapel, and met with Povy, and he and I together, who tells me how mad my letter makes my Lord Peterborough, and what a furious letter he hath writ to me in answer, though it is not come yet. This did trouble me; for though there be no reason, yet to have a nobleman’s mouth open against a man may do a man hurt; so I endeavoured to have found him out and spoke with him, but could not. So to the chapel, and heard a piece of the Dean of Westminster’s2936 sermon, and a special good anthem before the king, after a sermon, and then home by coach with Captain Cocke, who is in pain about his hemp, of which he says he hath bought great quantities, and would gladly be upon good terms with us for it, wherein I promise to assist him. So we ’light at the ’Change, where, after a small turn or two, taking no pleasure nowadays to be there, because of answering questions that would be asked there which I cannot answer; so home and dined, and after dinner, with my wife and Mercer to the Beare-garden,2937 where I have not been, I think, of many years, and saw some good sport of the bull’s tossing of the dogs: one into the very boxes. But it is a very rude and nasty pleasure. We had a great many hectors in the same box with us (and one very fine went into the pit, and played his dog for a wager, which was a strange sport for a gentleman), where they drank wine, and drank Mercer’s health first, which I pledged with my hat off; and who should be in the house but Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who saw us and spoke to us. Thence home, well enough satisfied, however, with the variety of this afternoon’s exercise; and so I to my chamber, till in the evening our company come to supper. We had invited to a venison pasty Mr. Batelier and his sister Mary, Mrs. Mercer, her daughter Anne, Mr. Le Brun, and W. Hewer; and so we supped, and very merry. And then about nine o’clock to Mrs. Mercer’s gate, where the fire and boys expected us, and her son had provided abundance of serpents and rockets; and there mighty merry (my Lady Penn and Pegg going thither with us, and Nan Wright), till about twelve at night, flinging our fireworks, and burning one another and the people over the way. And at last our businesses being most spent, we into Mrs. Mercer’s, and there mighty merry, smutting one another with candle grease and soot, till most of us were like devils. And that being done, then we broke up, and to my house; and there I made them drink, and upstairs we went, and then fell into dancing (W. Batelier dancing well), and dressing, him and I and one Mr. Banister (who with his wife come over also with us) like women; and Mercer put on a suit of Tom’s, like a boy, and mighty mirth we had, and Mercer danced a jig; and Nan Wright and my wife and Pegg Penn put on periwigs. Thus we spent till three or four in the morning, mighty merry; and then parted, and to bed.
. Mighty sleepy; slept till past eight of the clock, and was called up by a letter from Sir W. Coventry, which, among other things, tells me how we have burned one hundred and sixty ships of the enemy within the Fly.2938 I up, and with all possible haste, and in pain for fear of coming late, it being our day of attending the Duke of York, to St. James’s, where they are full of the particulars; how they are generally good merchant ships, some of them laden and supposed rich ships. We spent five fire-ships upon them. We landed on the Schelling (Sir Philip Howard with some men, and Holmes, I think; with others, about 1,000 in all), and burned a town; and so come away. By and by the Duke of York with his books showed us the very place and manner, and that it was not our design or expectation to have done this, but only to have landed on the Fly, and burned some of their store; but being come in, we spied those ships, and with our long boats, one by one, fired them, our ships running all aground, it being so shoal water. We were led to this by, it seems, a renegado captain of the Hollanders, who found himself ill used by De Ruyter for his good service, and so come over to us, and hath done us good service; so that now we trust him, and he himself did go on this expedition. The service is very great, and our joys as great for it. All this will make the Duke of Albemarle in repute again, I doubt, though there is nothing of his in this. But, Lord! to see what success do, whether with or without reason, and making a man seem wise, notwithstanding never so late demonstration of the profoundest folly in the world. Thence walked over the Park with Sir W. Coventry, in our way talking of the unhappy state of our office; and I took an opportunity to let him know, that though the backwardnesses of all our matters of the office may be well imputed to the known want of money, yet, perhaps, there might be personal and particular failings; and that I did, therefore, depend still upon his promise of telling me whenever he finds any ground to believe any defect or neglect on my part, which he promised me still to do; and that there was none he saw, nor, indeed, says he, is there room nowadays to find fault with any particular man, while we are in this condition for money. This, methought, did not so well please me; but, however, I am glad I have said this, thereby giving myself good grounds to believe that at this time he did not want an occasion to have said what he pleased to me, if he had had anything in his mind, which by his late distance and silence I have feared. But then again I am to consider he is grown a very great man, much greater than he was, and so must keep more distance; and, next, that the condition of our office will not afford me occasion of showing myself so active and deserving as heretofore; and, lastly, the muchness of his business cannot suffer him to mind it, or give him leisure to reflect on anything, or show the freedom and kindness that he used to do. But I think I have done something considerable to my satisfaction in doing this; and that if I do but my duty remarkably from this time forward, and not neglect it, as I have of late done, and minded my pleasures, I may be as well as ever I was. Thence to the Exchequer, but did nothing, they being all gone from their offices; and so to the Old Exchange, where the town full of the good news, but I did not stay to tell or hear any, but home, my head aching and drowsy, and to dinner, and then lay down upon the couch, thinking to get a little rest, but could not. So down the river, reading The Adventures of Five Houres, which the more I read the more I admire. So down below Greenwich, but the wind and tide being against us, I back again to Deptford, and did a little business there, and thence walked to Redriffe; and so home, and to the office a while. In the evening comes W. Batelier and his sister, and my wife, and fair Mrs. Turner into the garden, and there we walked, and then with my Lady Penn and Pegg in a-doors, and eat and were merry, and so pretty late broke up, and to bed. The guns of the Tower going off, and there being bonefires also in the street for this late good success.
. Up, having slept well, and after entering my journal, to the office, where all the morning, but of late Sir W. Coventry hath not come to us, he being discouraged from the little we have to do but to answer the clamours of people for money. At noon home, and there dined with me my Lady Penn only and W. Hewer at a haunch of venison boiled, where pretty merry, only my wife vexed me a little about demanding money to go with my Lady Penn to the Exchange to lay out. I to the office, where all the afternoon and very busy and doing much business; but here I had a most eminent experience of the evil of being behindhand in business. I was the most backward to begin anything, and would fain have framed to myself an occasion of going abroad, and should, I doubt, have done it, but some business coming in, one after another, kept me there, and I fell to the ridding away of a great deal of business, and when my hand was in it was so pleasing a sight to [see] my papers disposed of, and letters answered, which troubled my book and table, that I could have continued there with delight all night long, and did till called away by my Lady Penn and Pegg and my wife to their house to eat with them; and there I went, and exceeding merry, there being Nan Wright, now Mrs. Markham, and sits at table with my Lady. So mighty merry, home and to bed. This day Sir W. Batten did show us at the table a letter from Sir T. Allen, which says that we have taken ten or twelve ships (since the late great expedition of burning their ships and town), laden with hemp, flax, tar, deales, etc. This was good news; but by and by comes in Sir G. Carteret, and he asked us with full mouth what we would give for good news. Says Sir W. Batten, “I have better than you, for a wager.” They laid sixpence, and we that were by were to give sixpence to him that told the best news. So Sir W. Batten told his of the ten or twelve ships Sir G. Carteret did then tell us that upon the news of the burning of the ships and town the common people a Amsterdam did besiege De Witt’s house, and he was force to flee to the Prince of Orange, who is gone to Cleve to the marriage of his sister. This we concluded all the best newest and my Lord Brouncker and myself did give Sir G. Carteret our sixpence apiece, which he did give Mr. Smith to give the poor. Thus we made ourselves mighty merry.
. Up and betimes with Captain Erwin2939 down by water to Woolwich, I walking alone from Greenwich thither, making an end of the Adventures of Five Hours, which when all is done is the best play that ever I read in my life. Being come thither I did some business there and at the Rope Yarde, and had a piece of bride-cake sent me by Mrs. Barbary2940 into the boate after me, she being here at her uncle’s, with her husband, Mr. Wood’s son, the mast-maker, and mighty nobly married, they say, she was, very fine, and he very rich, a strange fortune for so odd a looked maid, though her hands and body be good, and nature very good, I think. Back with Captain Erwin, discoursing about the East Indies, where he hath often been. And among other things he tells me how the King of Syam seldom goes out without thirty or forty thousand people with him, and not a word spoke, nor a hum or cough in the whole company to be heard. He tells me the punishment frequently there for malefactors is cutting off the crown of their head, which they do very dexterously, leaving their brains bare, which kills them presently. He told me what I remember he hath once done heretofore: that everybody is to lie flat down at the coming by of the King, and nobody to look upon him upon pain of death. And that he and his fellows, being strangers, were invited to see the sport of taking of a wild elephant, and they did only kneel, and look toward the King. Their druggerman2941 did desire them to fall down, for otherwise he should suffer for their contempt of the King. The sport being ended, a messenger comes from the King, which the druggerman thought had been to have taken away his life; but it was to enquire how the strangers liked the sport. The druggerman answered that they did cry it up to be the best that ever they saw, and that they never heard of any Prince so great in everything as this King. The messenger being gone back, Erwin and his company asked their druggerman what he had said, which he told them. “But why,” say they, “would you say that without our leave, it being not true?”—“It is no matter for that,” says he, “I must have said it, or have been hanged, for our King do not live by meat, nor drink, but by having great lies told him.” In our way back we come by a little vessel that come into the river this morning, and says he left the fleet in Sole Bay, and that he hath not heard (he belonging to Sir W. Jenings, in the fleet) of any such prizes taken as the ten or twelve I inquired about, and said by Sir W. Batten yesterday to be taken, so I fear it is not true. So to Westminster, and there, to my great content, did receive my £2,000 of Mr. Spicer’s telling, which I was to receive of Colvill, and brought it home with me [to] my house by water, and there I find one of my new presses for my books brought home, which pleases me mightily. As, also, do my wife’s progress upon her head that she is making. So to dinner, and thence abroad with my wife, leaving her at Unthanke’s; I to Whitehall, waiting at the Council door till it rose, and there spoke with Sir W. Coventry, who and I do much fear our Victuallers, they having missed the fleet in their going. But Sir W. Coventry says it is not our fault, but theirs, if they have not left ships to secure them. This he spoke in a chagrin sort of way, methought. After a little more discourse of several businesses, I away homeward, having in the gallery the good fortune to see Mrs. Stewart, who is grown a little too tall, but is a woman of most excellent features. The narrative of the late expedition2942 in burning the ships is in print, and makes it a great thing, and I hope it is so. So took up my wife and home, there I to the office, and thence with Sympson the joiner home to put together the press he hath brought me for my books this day, which pleases me exceedingly. Then to Sir W. Batten’s, where Sir Richard Ford did very understandingly, methought, give us an account of the originall of the Hollands Bank,2943 and the nature of it, and how they do never give any interest at all to any person that brings in their money, though what is brought in upon the public faith interest is given by the State for. The unsafe condition of a Bank under a Monarch, and the little safety to a Monarch to have any; or Corporation alone (as London in answer to Amsterdam) to have so great a wealth or credit, it is, that makes it hard to have a Bank here. And as to the former, he did tell us how it sticks in the memory of most merchants how the late King (when by the war between Holland and France and Spain all the bullion of Spain was brought hither, one-third of it to be coined; and indeed it was found advantageous to the merchant to coin most of it), was persuaded in a strait by my Lord Cottington2944 to seize upon the money in the Tower, which, though in a few days the merchants concerned did prevail to get it released, yet the thing will never be forgot. So home to supper and to bed, understanding this evening, since I come home, that our Victuallers are all come in to the fleet, which is good news. Sir John Minnes come home tonight not well, from Chatham, where he hath been at a pay, holding it at Upnor Castle, because of the plague so much in the town of Chatham. He hath, they say, got an ague, being so much on the water.
. All the morning at my office; then to the Exchange (with my Lord Brouncker in his coach) at noon, but it was only to avoid Mr. Chr. Pett’s being invited by me to dinner. So home, calling at my little mercer’s in Lombard Street, who hath the pretty wench, like the old Queen, and there cheapened some stuffs to hang my roome, that I intend to turn into a closet. So home to dinner, and after dinner comes Creed to discourse with me about several things of Tangier concernments and accounts, among others starts the doubt, which I was formerly aware of, but did wink at it, whether or no Lanyon and his partners be not paid for more than they should be, which he presses, so that it did a little discompose me; but, however, I do think no harm will arise thereby. He gone, I to the office, and there very late, very busy, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my chamber, and there began to draw out fair and methodically my accounts of Tangier, in order to show them to the Lords. But by and by comes by agreement Mr. Reeves, and after him Mr. Spong, and all day with them, both before and after dinner, till ten o’clock at night, upon optic enquiries, he bringing me a frame he closes on, to see how the rays of light do cut one another, and in a dark room with smoke, which is very pretty. He did also bring a lanterne with pictures in glasse, to make strange things appear on a wall, very pretty. We did also at night see Jupiter and his girdle and satellites, very fine, with my twelve-foote glasse, but could not Saturne, he being very dark. Spong and I had also several fine discourses upon the globes this afternoon, particularly why the fixed stars do not rise and set at the same houre all the yeare long, which he could not demonstrate, nor I neither, the reason of. So, it being late, after supper they away home. But it vexed me to understand no more from Reeves and his glasses touching the nature and reason of the several refractions of the several figured glasses, he understanding the acting part, but not one bit the theory, nor can make anybody understand it, which is a strange dullness, methinks. I did not hear anything yesterday or at all to confirm either Sir Thos. Allen’s news of the 10 or 12 ships taken, nor of the disorder at Amsterdam upon the news of the burning of the ships, that he [De Witt] should be fled to the Prince of Orange, it being generally believed that he was gone to France before.
. Waked this morning, about six o’clock, with a violent knocking at Sir J. Minnes’s door, to call up Mrs. Hammon, crying out that Sir J. Minnes is a-dying. He come home ill of an ague on Friday night. I saw him on Saturday, after his fit of the ague, and then was pretty lusty. Which troubles me mightily, for he is a very good, harmless, honest gentleman, though not fit for the business. But I much fear a worse may come, that may be more uneasy to me. Up, and to Deptford by water, reading Othello, Moore of Venice, which I ever heretofore esteemed a mighty good play, but having so lately read The Adventures of Five Houres, it seems a mean thing. Walked back, and so home, and then down to the Old Swan and drank at Betty Michell’s, and so to Westminster to the Exchequer about my quarter tallies, and so to Lombard Street to choose stuff to hang my new intended closet, and have chosen purple. So home to dinner, and all the afternoon till almost midnight upon my Tangier accounts, getting Tom Wilson to help me in writing as I read, and at night W. Hewer, and find myself most happy in the keeping of all my accounts, for that after all the changings and turnings necessary in such an account, I find myself right to a farthing in an account of £127,000. This afternoon I visited Sir J. Minnes, who, poor man, is much impatient by these few days’ sickness, and I fear indeed it will kill him.
. Up, and to the office, where much business and Sir W. Coventry there, who of late hath wholly left us, most of our business being about money, to which we can give no answer, which makes him weary of coming to us. He made an experiment today, by taking up a heape of petitions that lay upon the table. They proved seventeen in number, and found them thus: one for money for reparation for clothes, four desired to have tickets made out to them, and the other twelve were for money. Dined at home, and sister Balty with us. My wife snappish because I denied her money to lay out this afternoon; however, good friends again, and by coach set them down at the New Exchange, and I to the Exchequer, and there find my business of my tallies in good forwardness. I passed down into the Hall, and there hear that Mr. Bowles, the grocer, after 4 or 5 days’ sickness, is dead, and this day buried. So away, and taking up my wife, went homewards. I ’light and with Harman to my mercer’s in Lombard Street, and there agreed for, our purple serge for my closet, and so I away home. So home and late at the office, and then home, and there found Mr. Batelier and his sister Mary, and we sat chatting a great while, talking of witches and spirits, and he told me of his own knowledge, being with some others at Bourdeaux, making a bargain with another man at a tavern for some clarets, they did hire a fellow to thunder (which he had the art of doing upon a deal board) and to rain and hail, that is, make the noise of, so as did give them a pretence of undervaluing their merchants’ wines, by saying this thunder would spoil and turne them. Which was so reasonable to the merchant, that he did abate two pistolls per ton for the wine in belief of that, whereas, going out, there was no such thing. This Batelier did see and was the cause of to his profit, as is above said. By and by broke up and to bed.
. Up and by coach with £100 to the Exchequer to pay fees there. There left it, and I to St. James’s, and there with; the Duke of York. I had opportunity of much talk with Sir. W. Penn today (he being newly come from the fleet); and he do much undervalue the honour that is given to the conduct of the late business of Holmes in burning the ships and town2945 saying it was a great thing indeed, and of great profit to us in being of great losse to the enemy, but that it was wholly a business of chance, and no conduct employed in it. I find Sir W. Penn do hold up his head at this time higher than ever he did in his life. I perceive he do look after Sir J. Minnes’s place if he dies, and though I love him not nor do desire to have him in, yet I do think [he] is the first man in England for it. To the Exchequer, and there received my tallies, and paid my fees in good order, and so home, and there find Mrs. Knipp and my wife going to dinner. She tells me my song, of “Beauty Retire” is mightily cried up, which I am not a little proud of; and do think I have done “It is Decreed” better, but I have not finished it. My closet is doing by upholsters, which I am pleased with, but fear my purple will be too sad for that melancholy roome. After dinner and doing something at the office, I with my wife, Knipp, and Mercer, by coach to Moorefields, and there saw Polichinello, which pleases me mightily, and here I saw our Mary, our last chambermaid, who is gone from Mrs. Pierce’s it seems. Thence carried Knipp home, calling at the Cocke alehouse at the door and drank, and so home, and there find Reeves, and so up to look upon the stars, and do like my glasse very well, and did even with him for it and a little perspective and the Lanterne that shows tricks, altogether costing me £9 5s. 0d. So to bed, he lying at our house.
. At the office all the morning, whither Sir W. Coventry sent me word that the Dutch fleet is certainly abroad; and so we are to hasten all we have to send to our fleet with all speed. But, Lord! to see how my Lord Brouncker undertakes the despatch of the fire-ships, when he is no more fit for it than a porter; and all the while Sir W. Penn, who is the most fit, is unwilling to displease him, and do not look after it; and so the King’s work is like to be well done. At noon dined at home, Lovett with us; but he do not please me in his business, for he keeps things long in hand, and his paper do not hold so good as I expected—the varnish wiping off in a little time—a very sponge; and I doubt by his discourse he is an odde kind of fellow, and, in plain terms, a very rogue. He gone, I to the office (having seen and liked the upholsters’ work in my roome—which they have almost done), and there late, and in the evening find Mr. Batelier and his sister there and then we talked and eat and were merry, and so parted late, and to bed.
. Up, and dispatched several businesses at home in the morning, and then comes Sympson to set up my other new presses2946 for my books, and so he and I fell in to the furnishing of my new closet, and taking out the things out of my old, and I kept him with me all day, and he dined with me, and so all the afternoon till it was quite dark hanging things, that is my maps and pictures and draughts, and setting up my books, and as much as we could do, to my most extraordinary satisfaction; so that I think it will be as noble a closet as any man hath, and light enough—though, indeed, it would be better to have had a little more light. He gone, my wife and I to talk, and sup, and then to setting right my Tangier accounts and enter my Journal, and then to bed with great content in my day’s worke. This afternoon comes Mrs. Barbary Sheldon, now Mrs. Wood, to see my wife. I was so busy I would not see her. But she came, it seems, mighty rich in rings and fine clothes, and like a lady, and says she is matched mighty well, at which I am very glad, but wonder at her good fortune and the folly of her husband, and vexed at myself for not paying her the respect of seeing her, but I will come out of her debt another time.
. All the morning at the office. At noon dined at home, and after dinner up to my new closet, which pleases me mightily, and there I proceeded to put many things in order as far as I had time, and then set it in washing, and stood by myself a great while to see it washed; and then to the office, and then wrote my letters and other things, and then in mighty good humour home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and to the finishing the setting things in order in my new closet out of my old, which I did thoroughly by the time sermon was done at church, to my exceeding joy, only I was a little disturbed with news my Lord Brouncker brought me, that we are to attend the King at Whitehall this afternoon, and that it is about a complaint from the Generals against us. Sir W. Penn dined by invitation with me, his Lady and daughter being gone into the country. We very merry. After dinner we parted, and I to my office, whither I sent for Mr. Lewes and instructed myself fully in the business of the Victualling, to enable me to answer in the matter; and then Sir W. Penn and I by coach to Whitehall, and there stayed till the King and Cabinet were met in the Green Chamber, and then we were called in; and there the King begun with me, to hear how the victuals of the fleet stood. I did in a long discourse tell him and the rest (the Duke of York, Lord Chancellor, Lord Treasurer, both the Secretaries, Sir G. Carteret, and Sir W. Coventry), how it stood, wherein they seemed satisfied, but press mightily for more supplies; and the letter of the Generals, which was read, did lay their not going or too soon returning from the Dutch coast, this next bout, to the want of victuals. They then proceeded to the enquiry after the fireships; and did all very superficially, and without any severity at all. But, however, I was in pain, after we come out, to know how I had done; and hear well enough. But, however, it shall be a caution to me to prepare myself against a day of inquisition. Being come out, I met with Mr. Moore, and he and I an houre together in the Gallery, telling me how far they are gone in getting my Lord [Sandwich’s] pardon, so as the Chancellor is prepared in it; and Sir H. Bennet do promote it, and the warrant for the King’s signing is drawn. The business between my Lord Hinchingbroke and Mrs. Mallett is quite broke off; he attending her at Tunbridge, and she declaring her affections to be settled; and he not being fully pleased with the vanity and liberty of her carriage. He told me how my Lord has drawn a bill of exchange from Spain of £1,200, and would have me supply him with £500 of it, but I avoided it, being not willing to embark myself in money there, where I see things going to ruin. Thence to discourse of the times; and he tells me he believes both my Lord Arlington and Sir W. Coventry, as well as my Lord Sandwich and Sir G. Carteret, have reason to fear, and are afeard of this Parliament now coming on. He tells me that Bristoll’s faction is getting ground apace against my Lord Chancellor. He told me that my old Lord Coventry2947 was a cunning, crafty man, and did make as many bad decrees in Chancery as any man; and that in one case, that occasioned many years’ dispute, at last when the King come in, it was hoped by the party grieved, to get my Lord Chancellor to reverse a decree of his. Sir W. Coventry took the opportunity of the business between the Duke of York and the Duchess, and said to my Lord Chancellor, that he had rather be drawn up Holborne to be hanged, than live to see his father pissed upon (in these very terms) and any decree of his reversed. And so the Chancellor did not think fit to do it, but it still stands, to the undoing of one Norton, a printer, about his right to the printing of the Bible, and Grammar, etc.2948 Thence Sir W. Penn and I to Islington and there drank at the Katherine Wheele, and so down the nearest way home, where there was no kind of pleasure at all. Being come home, hear that Sir J. Minnes has had a very bad fit all this day, and a hickup do take him, which is a very bad sign, which troubles me truly. So home to supper a little and then to bed.
. Up, and to my new closet, which pleases me mightily, and there did a little business. Then to break open a window, to the leads’ side in my old closet, which will enlighten the room mightily, and make it mighty pleasant. So to the office, and then home about one thing or other, about my new closet, for my mind is full of nothing but that. So at noon to dinner, mightily pleased with my wife’s picture that she is upon. Then to the office, and thither come and walked an hour with me Sir G. Carteret, who tells me what is done about my Lord’s pardon, and is not for letting the Duke of York know anything of it beforehand, but to carry it as speedily and quietly as we can. He seems to be very apprehensive that the Parliament will be troublesome and inquisitive into faults, but seems not to value them as to himself. He gone, I to the Victualling Office, there with Lewes2949 and Willson setting the business of the state of the fleet’s victualling even and plain, and that being done, and other good discourse about it over, Mr. Willson and I by water down the River for discourse only, about business of the office, and then back, and I home, and after a little at my office home to my new closet, and there did much business on my Tangier account and my Journal for three days. So to supper and to bed. We are not sure that the Dutch fleet is out. I have another memento from Sir W. Coventry of the want of provisions in the fleet, which troubles me, though there is no reason for it; but will have the good effect of making me more wary. So, full of thoughts, to bed.
. Up, and in my new closet a good while doing business. Then called on Mrs. Martin and Burroughs of Westminster about business of the former’s husband. Which done, I to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon I, with my wife and Mercer, to Philpott Lane,2950 a great cook’s shop, to the wedding of Mr. Longracke, our purveyor, a good, sober, civil man, and hath married a sober, serious maid. Here I met much ordinary company, I going thither at his great request; but there was Mr. Madden and his lady, a fine, noble, pretty lady, and he, and a fine gentleman seems to be. We four were most together; but the whole company was very simple and innocent. A good-dinner, and, what was best, good music. After dinner the young women went to dance; among others Mr. Christopher Pett his daughter, who is a very pretty, modest girl, I am mightily taken with her; and that being done about five o’clock, home, very well pleased with the afternoon’s work. And so we broke up mightily civilly, the bride and bridegroom going to Greenwich (they keeping their dinner here only for my sake) to lie, and we home, where I to the office, and anon am on a sudden called to meet Sir W. Penn and Sir W. Coventry at the Victualling Office, which did put me out of order to be so surprised. But I went, and there Sir William Coventry did read me a letter from the Generals to the King,2951 a most scurvy letter, reflecting most upon Sir W. Coventry, and then upon me for my accounts (not that they are not true, but that we do not consider the expense of the fleet), and then of the whole office, in neglecting them and the King’s service, and this in very plain and sharp and menacing terms. I did give a good account of matters according to our computation of the expense of the fleet. I find Sir W. Coventry willing enough to accept of anything to confront the Generals. But a great supply must be made, and shall be in grace of God! But, however, our accounts here will be found the true ones. Having done here, and much work set me, I with greater content home than I thought I should have done, and so to the office a while, and then home, and a while in my new closet, which delights me every day more and more, and so late to bed.
. Up betimes, and there to fit some Tangier accounts, and then, by appointment, to my Lord Bellasses, but about Paul’s thought of the chant paper I should carry with me, and so fain to come back again, and did, and then met with Sir W. Penn, and with him to my Lord Bellasses, he sitting in the coach the while, while I up to my Lord and there offered him my account of the bills of exchange I had received and paid for him, wherein we agree all but one £200 bill of Vernatty’s drawing, wherein I doubt he hath endeavoured to cheate my Lord; but that will soon appear. Thence took leave, and found Sir W. Penn talking to Orange Moll, of the King’s house, who, to our great comfort, told us that they begun to act on the 18th of this month. So on to St. James’s, in the way Sir W. Penn telling me that Mr. Norton,2952 that married Sir J. Lawson’s daughter, is dead. She left £800 a year jointure, a son to inherit the whole estate. She freed from her father-in-law’s tyranny, and is in condition to help her mother, who needs it; of which I am glad, the young lady being very pretty. To St. James’s, and there Sir W. Coventry took Sir W. Penn and me apart, and read to us his answer to the Generals’ letter to the King that he read last night; wherein he is very plain, and states the matter in full defence of himself and of me with him, which he could not avoid; which is a good comfort to me, that I happen to be involved with him in the same cause. And then, speaking of the supplies which have been made to this fleet, more than ever in all kinds to any, even that wherein the Duke of York himself was, “Well,” says he, “if this will not do, I will say, as Sir J. Falstaffe did to the Prince, ‘Tell your father, that if he do not like this let him kill the next Piercy himself,’ ”2953 and so we broke up, and to the Duke, and there did our usual business. So I to the Park and there met Creed, and he and I walked to Westminster to the Exchequer, and thence to Whitehall talking of Tangier matters and Vernatty’s knavery, and so parted, and then I homeward and met Mr. Povy in Cheapside, and stopped and talked a good while upon the profits of the place which my Lord Bellasses hath made this last year, and what share we are to have of it, but of this all imperfect, and so parted, and I home, and there find Mrs. Mary Batelier, and she dined with us; and thence I took them to Islington, and there eat a custard; and so back to Moorfields, and showed Batelier, with my wife, Polichinello, which I like the more I see it; and so home with great content, she being a mighty good-natured, pretty woman, and thence I to the Victualling office, and there with Mr. Lewes and Willson upon our Victualling matters till ten at night, and so I home and there late writing a letter to Sir W. Coventry, and so home to supper and to bed. No news where the Dutch are. We begin to think they will steale through the Channel to meet Beaufort.2954 We think our fleet sailed yesterday, but we have no news of it.
. Up and all the morning at the office, dined at home, and in the afternoon, and at night till two in the morning, framing my great letter to Mr. Hayes2955 about the victualling of the fleet, about which there has been so much ado and exceptions taken by the Generals.
. To bed at 2 or 3 in the morning and up again at 6 to go by appointment to my Lord Bellasses, but he out of town, which vexed me. So back and got Mr. Poynter to enter into my book while I read from my last night’s notes the letter, and that being done to writing it fair. At noon home to dinner, and then the boy and I to the office, and there he read while I writ it fair, which done I sent it to Sir W. Coventry to peruse and send to the fleet by the first opportunity; and so pretty betimes to bed. Much pleased today with thoughts of gilding the backs of all my books alike in my new presses.
September 1666
. Up and at the office all the morning, and then dined at home. Got my new closet made mighty clean against tomorrow. Sir W. Penn and my wife and Mercer and I to Polichinelly, but were there horribly frighted to see Young Killigrew come in with a great many more young sparks; but we hid ourselves, so as we think they did not see us. By and by, they went away, and then we were at rest again; and so, the play being done, we to Islington, and there eat and drank and mighty merry; and so home singing, and, after a letter or two at the office, to bed.
. Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast today, Jane called us up about three in the morning, to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose and slipped on my nightgown, and went to her window, and thought it to be on the backside of Mark Lane at the farthest; but, being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off; and so went to bed again and to sleep. About seven rose again to dress myself, and there looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was and further off. So to my closet to set things to rights after yesterday’s cleaning. By and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above 300 houses have been burned down tonight by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish-street, by London Bridge. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson’s little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge; which, among other people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the bridge. So down, with my heart full of trouble, to the Lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morning in the King’s baker’s2956 house in Pudding-lane, and that it hath burned St. Magnus’s Church and most part of Fish-street already. So I down to the waterside, and there got a boat and through bridge, and there saw a lamentable fire. Poor Michell’s house, as far as the Old Swan, already burned that way, and the fire running further, that in a very little time it got as far as the Steelyard, while I was there. Everybody endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river or bringing them into lighters that layoff; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running into boats, or clambering from one pair of stairs by the waterside to another. And among other things, the poor pigeons, I perceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconies till they were, some of them burned, their wings, and fell down. Having stayed, and in an hour’s time seen the fire rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, endeavouring to quench it, but to remove their goods, and leave all to the fire, and having seen it get as far as the Steelyard, and the wind mighty high and driving it into the City; and everything, after so long a drought, proving combustible, even the very stones of churches, and among other things the poor steeple2957 by which pretty Mrs. ⸻ lives, and whereof my old schoolfellow Elborough is parson, taken fire in the very top, and there burned till it fell down: I to Whitehall (with a gentleman with me who desired to go off from the Tower, to see the fire, in my boat); to Whitehall, and there up to the Kings closet in the Chapel, where people come about me, and did give them an account dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the King. So I was called for, and did tell the King and Duke of York what I saw, and that unless his Majesty did command houses to be pulled down nothing could stop the fire. They seemed much troubled, and the King commanded me to go to my Lord Mayor2958 from him, and command him to spare no houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. The Duke of York bid me tell him that if he would have any more soldiers he shall; and so did my Lord Arlington afterwards, as a great secret.2959 Here meeting, with Captain Cocke, I in his coach, which he lent me, and Creed with me to Paul’s, and there walked along Watlingstreet, as well as I could, every creature coming away loaden with goods to save, and here and there sicke people carried away in beds. Extraordinary good goods carried in carts and on backs. At last met my Lord Mayor in Canning-street, like a man spent, with a handkercher about his neck. To the King’s message he cried, like a fainting woman, “Lord! what can I do? I am spent: people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it.” That he needed no more soldiers; and that, for himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night. So he left me, and I him, and walked home, seeing people all almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. The houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tar, in Thames-street; and warehouses of oil, and wines, and brandy, and other things. Here I saw Mr. Isaake Houblon, the handsome man, prettily dressed and dirty, at his door at Dowgate, receiving some of his brothers’ things, whose houses were on fire; and, as he says, have been removed twice already; and he doubts (as it soon proved) that they must be in a little time removed from his house also, which was a sad consideration. And to see the churches all filling with goods by people who themselves should have been quietly there at this time. By this time it was about twelve o’clock; and so home, and there find my guests, which was Mr. Wood and his wife Barbary Sheldon, and also Mr. Moone: she mighty fine, and her husband; for aught I see, a likely man. But Mr. Moone’s design and mine, which was to look over my closet and please him with the sight thereof, which he hath long desired, was wholly disappointed; for we were in great trouble and disturbance at this fire, not knowing what to think of it. However, we had an extraordinary good dinner, and as merry, as at this time we could be. While at dinner Mrs. Batelier come to enquire after Mr. Woolfe and Stanes (who, it seems, are related to them), whose houses in Fish-street are all burned; and they in a sad condition. She would not stay in the fright. Soon as dined, I and Moone away, and walked, through the City, the streets full of nothing but people and horses and carts loaden with goods, ready to run over one another, and, removing goods from one burned house to another. They now removing out of Canning Streets (which received goods in the morning) into Lombard Streets, and further; and among others I now saw my little goldsmith, Stokes, receiving some friend’s goods, whose house itself was burned the day after. We parted at Paul’s; he home, and I to Paul’s Wharf, where I had appointed a boat to attend me, and took in Mr. Carcasse2960 and his brother, whom I met in the streets and carried them below and above bridge to and again to see the fire, which was now got further, both below and above and no likelihood of stopping it. Met with the King and Duke of York in their barge, and with them to Queenhith and there called Sir Richard Browne to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apace, and so below bridge the waterside; but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. Good hopes there was of stopping it at the Three Cranes above, and at Buttolph’s Wharf below bridge, if care be used; but the wind carries it into the City so as we know not by the waterside what it do there. River full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and good goods swimming in the water, and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of Virginalls2961 in it. Having seen as much as I could now, I away to Whitehall by appointment, and there walked to St. James’s Parks, and there met my wife and Creed and Wood and his wife, and walked to my boat; and there upon the water again, and to the fire up and down, it still increasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with one’s face in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of firedrops. This is very true; so as houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the water; we to a little alehouse on the Bankside, over against the Three Cranes, and there stayed till it was dark almost, and saw the fire grow; and, as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. Barbary and her husband away before us. We stayed till, it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long: it made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and all on fire and flaming at once; and a horrid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses at their ruins. So home with a sad heart, and there find everybody discoursing and lamenting the fire; and poor Tom Hater come with some few of his goods saved out of his house, which is burned upon Fish-streets Hall. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive his goods, but was deceived in his lying there, the news coming every moment of the growth of the fire; so as we were forced to begin to pack up our own goods; and prepare for their removal; and did by moonshine (it being brave dry, and moonshine, and warm weather) carry much of my goods into the garden, and Mr. Hater and I did remove my money and iron chests into my cellar, as thinking that the safest place. And got my bags of gold into my office, ready to carry away, and my chief papers of accounts also there, and my tallies into a box by themselves. So great was our fear, as Sir W. Batten hath carts come out of the country to fetch away his goods this night. We did put Mr. Hater, poor man, to bed a little; but he got but very little rest, so much noise being in my house, taking down of goods.
. About four o’clock in the morning, my Lady Batten sent me a cart to carry away all my money, and plate, and best things, to Sir W. Rider’s at Bednall-greene. Which I did riding myself in my nightgown in the cart; and, Lord! to see how the streets and the highways are crowded with people running and riding, and getting of carts at any rate to fetch away things. I find Sir W. Rider tired with being called up all night, and receiving things from several friends. His house full of goods, and much of Sir W. Batten’s and Sir W. Penn’s. I am eased at my heart to have my treasure so well secured. Then home, with much ado to find a way, nor any sleep all this night to me nor my poor wife. But then and all this day she and I, and all my people labouring to get away the rest of our things, and did get Mr. Tooker to get me a lighter to take them in, and we did carry them (myself some) over Tower Hill, which was by this time full of people’s goods, bringing their goods thither; and down to the lighter, which lay at next quay, above the Tower Docke. And here was my neighbour’s wife, Mrs. ⸻, with her pretty child, and some few of her things, which I did willingly give way to be saved with mine; but there was no passing with anything through the postern, the crowd was so great. The Duke of York of this day by the office, and spoke to us, and did ride with his guard up and down the City, to keep all quiet (he being now General, and having the care of all). This day, Mercer being not at home, but against her mistress’s order gone to her mother’s, and my wife going thither to speak with W. Hewer, met her there, and was angry; and her mother saying that she was not a ’prentice girl, to ask leave every time she goes abroad, my wife with good reason was angry, and, when she came home, bid her be gone again. And so she went away, which troubled me, but yet less than it would, because of the condition we are in, fear of coming into in a little time of being less able to keepe one in her quality. At night lay down a little upon a quilt of W. Hewer’s in the office, all my own things being packed up or gone; and after me my poor wife did the like, we having fed upon the remains of yesterday’s dinner, having no fire nor dishes, nor any opportunity of dressing anything.
. Up by break of day to get away the remainder of my things; which I did by a lighter at the Iron gate:2962 and my hands so few, that it was the afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Penn and I to Tower Street, and there met the fire burning three or four doors beyond Mr. Howell’s, whose goods, poor man, his trayes, and dishes, shovells, etc., were flung all along Tower-street in the kennels, and people working therewith from one end to the other; the fire coming on in that narrow street, on both sides, with infinite fury. Sir W. Batten not knowing how to remove his wine, did dig a pit in the garden, and laid it in there; and I took the opportunity of laying all the papers of my office that I could not otherwise dispose of. And in the evening Sir W. Penn and I did dig another, and put our wine in it; and I my Parmazan cheese, as well as my wine and some other things. The Duke of York was at the office this day, at Sir W. Penn’s; but I happened not to be within. This afternoon, sitting melancholy with Sir W. Penn in our garden, and thinking of the certain burning of this office, without extraordinary means, I did propose for the sending up of all our workmen from Woolwich and Deptford yards (none whereof yet appeared), and to write to Sir W. Coventry to have the Duke of York’s permission to pull down houses, rather than lose this office, which would, much hinder, the King’s business. So Sir W. Penn he went down this night, in order to the sending them up tomorrow morning; and I wrote to Sir W. Coventry about the business,2963 but received no answer. This night Mrs. Turner (who, poor woman, was removing her goods all this day, good goods into the garden, and knows not how to dispose of them), and her husband supped with my wife and I at night, in the office; upon a shoulder of mutton from the cook’s, without any napkin or anything, in a sad manner, but were merry. Only now and then walking into the garden, and saw how horridly the sky looks, all on a fire in the night, was enough to put us out of our wits; and, indeed, it was extremely dreadful, for it looks just as if it was at us; and the whole heaven on fire. I after supper walked in the dark down to Tower Street, and there saw it all on fire, at the Trinity House on that side, and the Dolphin Tavern on this side, which was very near us; and the fire with extraordinary vehemence. Now begins the practice of blowing up of houses in Tower Street, those next the Tower, which at first did frighten people more than anything, but it stopped the fire where it was done, it bringing down the houses to the ground in the same places they stood, and then it was easy to quench what little fire was in it, though it kindled nothing almost. W. Hewer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes late home, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye-corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way, and all the Old Bailey, and was running down to Fleet Street; and Paul’s is burned, and all Cheapside. I wrote to my father this night, but the post-house being burned, the letter could not go.2964
. I lay down in the office again upon W. Hewer’s quilt, being mighty weary, and sore in my feet with going till I was hardly able to stand. About two in the morning my wife calls me up and tells me of new cries of fire, it being come to Barking Church, which is the bottom of our lane.2965 I up, and finding it so, resolved presently to take her away, and did, and took my gold, which was about £2,350, W. Hewer, and Jane, down by Proundy’s boat to Woolwich; but, Lord! what sad sight it was by moone-light to see, the whole City almost on fire, that you might see it plain at Woolwich, as if you were by it. There, when I come, I find the gates shut, but no guard kept at all, which troubled me, because of discourse now begun, that there is plot in it, and that the French had done it. I got the gates open, and to Mr. Shelden’s, where I locked up my gold, and charged, my wife and W. Hewer never to leave the room without one of them in it, night, or day. So back again, by the way seeing my goods well in the lighters at Deptford, and watched well by people. Home; and whereas I expected to have seen our house on fire, it being now about seven o’clock, it was not. But to the fire, and there find greater hopes than I expected; for my confidence of finding our Office on fire was such, that I durst not ask anybody how it was with us, till I come and saw it not burned. But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of houses, and the great help given by the workmen out of the King’s yards, sent up by Sir W. Penn, there is a good stop given to it, as well as at Mark Lane end as ours; it having only burned the dial of Barking Church, and part of the porch, and was there quenched. I up to the top of Barking steeple, and there saw the saddest sight of desolation that I ever saw; everywhere great fires, oil-cellars, and brimstone, and other things burning. I became afeard to stay there long, and therefore down again as fast as I could, the fire being spread as far as I could see it; and to Sir W. Penn’s, and there eat a piece of cold meat, having eaten2966 nothing since Sunday, but the remains of Sunday’s dinner. Here I met with Mr. Young and Whistler; and having removed all my things, and received good hopes that the fire at our end is stopped, they and I walked into the town, and find Fenchurch Street, Gracious Street; and Lombard Street all in dust. The Exchange a sad sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or pillars, but Sir Thomas Gresham’s picture2967 in the corner. Walked into Moorefields (our feet ready to burn, walking through the town among the hot coals), and find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their goods there, and everybody keeping his goods together by themselves (and a great blessing it is to them that it is fair weather for them to keep abroad night and day); drank there, and paid twopence for a plain penny loaf. Thence homeward, having passed through Cheapside and Newgate Market, all burned, and seen Anthony Joyce’s house in fire. And took up (which I keep by me) a piece of glasse of Mercers’ Chapel in the street, where much more was, so melted and buckled with the heat of the fire like parchment. I also did see a poor cat taken out of a hole in the chimney, joining to the wall of the Exchange, with the hair all burned off the body, and yet alive. So home at night, and find there good hopes of saving our office; but great endeavours of watching all night, and having men ready; and so we lodged them in the office, and had drink and bread and cheese for them. And I lay down and slept a good night about midnight, though when I rose I heard that there had been a great alarme of French and Dutch being risen, which proved, nothing. But it is a strange thing to see how long this time did look since Sunday, having been always full of variety of actions, and little sleep, that it looked like a week or more, and I had forgot, almost the day of the week.
. Up about five o’clock, and where met Mr. Gawden at the gate of the office (I intending to go out, as I used, every now and then today, to see how the fire is) to call our men to Bishop’s-gate, where no fire had yet been near, and there is now one broke out which did give great grounds to people, and to me too, to think that there is some kind of plot2968 in this (on which many by this time have been taken, and, it hath been dangerous for any stranger to walk in the streets), but I went with the men, and we did put it out in a little time; so that that was well again. It was pretty to see how hard the women did work in the cannells, sweeping of water; but then they would scold for drink, and be as drunk as devils. I saw good butts of sugar broke open in the street, and people go and take handsful out, and put into beer, and drink it. And now all being pretty well, I took boat, and over to Southwarke, and took boat on the other side the bridge, and so to Westminster, thinking to shift myself, being all in dirt from top to bottom; but could not there find any place to buy a shirt or pair of gloves, Westminster Hall being full of people’s goods, those in Westminster having removed all their goods, and the Exchequer money put into vessels to carry to Nonsuch; but to the Swan, and there was trimmed; and then to Whitehall, but saw nobody; and so home. A sad sight to see how the River looks: no houses nor church near it, to the Temple, where it stopped. At home, did go with Sir W. Batten, and our neighbour, Knightly (who, with one more, was the only man of any fashion left in all the neighbourhood thereabouts, they all removing their goods and leaving their houses to the mercy of the fire), to Sir R. Ford’s, and there dined in an earthen platter—a fried breast of mutton; a great many of us, but very merry, and indeed as good a meal, though as ugly a one, as ever I had in my life. Thence down to Deptford, and there with great satisfaction landed all my goods at Sir G. Carteret’s safe, and nothing missed I could see, or hurt. This being done to my great content, I home, and to Sir W. Batten’s, and there with Sir R. Ford, Mr. Knightly, and one Withers, a professed lying rogue, supped well, and mighty merry, and our fears over. From them to the office, and there slept with the office full of labourers, who talked, and slept, and walked all night long there. But strange it was to see Clotheworkers’ Hall on fire these three days and nights in one body of flame, it being the cellar full of oil.
. Up by five o’clock; and, blessed be God! find all well, and by water to Paul’s Wharf. Walked thence, and saw, all the town burned, and a miserable sight of Paul’s church; with all the roofs fallen, and the body of the choir fallen into St. Fayth’s;2969 Paul’s school also, Ludgate, and Fleet-street, my father’s house, and the church, and a good part of the Temple the like. So to Creed’s lodging, near the New Exchange, and there find him laid down upon a bed; the house all unfurnished, there being fears of the fire’s coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him, and washed. To Sir W. Coventry, at St. James’s, who lay without curtains, having removed all his goods; as the King at Whitehall, and everybody had done, and was doing. He hopes we shall have no public distractions upon this fire, which is what everybody fears, because of the talk of the French having a hand in it. And it is a proper time for discontents; but all men’s minds are full of care to protect themselves, and save their goods: the militia is in armes everywhere. Our fleetes, he tells me, have been in sight one of another, and most unhappily by fowle weather were parted, to our great losse, as in reason they do conclude; the Dutch being come out only to make a show, and please their people; but in very bad condition as to stores, victuals, and men. They are at Bullen,2970 and our fleet come to St. Ellen’s.2971 We have got nothing, but have lost one ship, but he knows not what. Thence to the Swan, and there drank: and so home, and find all well. My Lord Brouncker, at Sir W. Batten’s, and tells us the General2972 is sent for up, to come to advise with the King about business at this juncture, and to keep all quiet; which is great honour to him, but I am sure is but a piece of dissimulation. So home, and did give orders for my house to be made clean; and then down to Woolwich, and there find all well. Dined, and Mrs. Markham come to see my wife. So I up again, and calling at Deptford for some things of W. Hewer’s, he being with me, and then home and spent the evening with Sir R. Ford, Mr. Knightly, and Sir W. Penn at Sir W. Batten’s. This day our Merchants first met at Gresham College, which, by proclamation,2973 is to be their Exchange. Strange to hear what is bid for houses all up and down here; a friend of Sir W. Rider’s having £150 for what he used to let for £40 per annum. Much dispute where the Custome-house shall be; thereby the growth of the City again to be foreseen. My Lord Treasurer, they say, and others, would have it at the other end of the town. I home late to Sir W. Penn’s, who did give me a bed; but without curtains or hangings, all being down. So here I went the first time into a naked bed, only my drawers on; and did sleep pretty well: but still hath sleeping and waking had a fear of fire in my heart, that I took little rest. People do all the world over cry out of the simplicity of my Lord Mayor in general; and more particularly in this business of the fire, laying it all upon him. A proclamation2974 is come out for markets to be kept at Leadenhall and Mile End Green, and several other places about the town; and Tower-hill, and all churches to be set open to receive poor people.
. Up and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn by water to Whitehall and they to St. James’s. I stopped with Sir G. Carteret to desire him to go with us, and to enquire after money. But the first he cannot do, and the other as little, or says, “when we can get any, or what shall we do for it?” He, it seems, is employed in the correspondence between the City and the King every day, in settling of things. I find him full of trouble, to think how things will go. I left him, and to St. James’s, where we met first at Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there did what business we can, without any books. Our discourse, as everything else, was confused. The fleet is at Portsmouth, there staying a wind to carry them to the Downs, or towards Bullen, where they say the Dutch fleet is gone, and stays. We concluded upon private meetings for a while, not having any money to satisfy any people that may come to us. I bought two eeles upon the Thames, cost me six shillings. Thence with Sir W. Batten to the Cockpit, whither the Duke of Albemarle is come. It seems the King holds him so necessary at this time, that he hath sent for him, and will keep him here. Indeed, his interest in the City, being acquainted, and his care in keeping things quiet, is reckoned that wherein he will be very serviceable. We to him; he is courted in appearance by everybody. He very kind to us; I perceive he lays by all business of the fleet at present, and minds the City, and is now hastening to Gresham College, to discourse with the Aldermen. Sir W. Batten and I home (where met by my brother John, come to town to see how things are with us), and then presently he with me to Gresham College; where infinity of people, partly through novelty to see the new place, and partly to find out and hear what is become one man of another. I met with many people undone, and more that have extraordinary great losses. People speaking their thoughts variously about the beginning of the fire, and the rebuilding of the City. Then to Sir W. Batten’s, and took my brother with me, and there dined with a great company of neighbours; and much good discourse; among others, of the low spirits of some rich men in the City, in sparing any encouragement to the poor people that wrought for the saving their houses. Among others, Alderman Starling, a very rich man, without children, the fire at next door to him in our lane, after our men had saved his house, did give 2s. 6d. among thirty of them, and did quarrel with some that would remove the rubbish out of the way of the fire, saying that they come to steal. Sir W. Coventry told me of another this morning, in Holborne, which he showed the King that when it was offered to stop the fire near his house for such a reward that came but to 2s. 6d. a man among the neighbours he would, give but 18d. Thence to Bednall Green by coach, my brother with me, and saw all well there, and fetched away my journal book to enter for five days past, and then back to the office where I find Bagwell’s wife, and her husband come home. Agreed to come to their house tomorrow, I sending him away to his ship today. To the office and late writing letters, and then to Sir W. Penn’s, my brother lying with me, and Sir W. Penn gone down to rest himself at Woolwich. But I was much frighted and kept awake in my bed, by some noise I heard a great while below stairs; and the boys not coming up to me when I knocked. It was by their discovery of people stealing of some neighbours’ wine that lay in vessels in the streets. So to sleep; and all well all night.
. Up and was trimmed, and sent my brother to Woolwich to my wife, to dine with her. I to church, where our parson made a melancholy but good sermon; and many and most in the church cried, specially the women. The church mighty full; but few of fashion, and most strangers. I walked to Bednall Green, and there dined well, but a bad venison pasty at Sir W. Rider’s. Good people they are, and good discourse; and his daughter, Middleton, a fine woman, discreet. Thence home, and to church again, and there preached Dean Harding;2975 but, methinks, a bad, poor sermon, though proper for the time; nor eloquent, in saying at this time that the City is reduced from a large folio to a decimotertio. So to my office, there to write down my journal, and take leave of my brother, whom I sent back this afternoon, though rainy; which it hath not done a good while before. But I had no room or convenience for him here till my house is fitted; but I was very kind to him, and do take very well of him his journey. I did give him 40s. for his pocket, and so, he being gone, and, it presently rayning, I was troubled for him, though it is good for the fire. Anon to Sir W. Penn’s to bed, and made my boy Tom to read me asleep.
. All the morning clearing our cellars, and breaking in pieces all my old lumber, to make room, and to prevent fire. And then to Sir W. Batten’s, and dined; and there hear that Sir W. Rider says that the town is full of the report of the wealth that is in his house, and would be glad that his friends would provide for the safety of their goods there. This made me get a cart; and thither, and there brought my money all away. Took a hackney-coach myself (the hackney-coaches now standing at Allgate). Much wealth indeed there is at his house. Blessed be God, I got all mine well thence, and lodged it in my office; but vexed to have all the world see it. And with Sir W. Batten, who would have taken away my hands before they were stowed. But by and by comes brother Balty from sea, which I was glad of; and so got him, and Mr. Tooker, and the boy, to watch with them all in the office all night, while I upon Jane’s coming went down to my wife, calling at Deptford, intending to see Bagwell, but did not ouvrir la porte comme je did expect. So down late to Woolwich, and there find my wife out of humour and indifferent, as she uses upon her having much liberty abroad.
. Lay there, and up betimes, and by water with my gold, and laid it with the rest in my office, where I find all well and safe. So with Sir W. Batten to the New Exchange by water and to my Lord Brouncker’s house, where Sir W. Coventry and Sir G. Carteret met. Little business before us but want of money. Broke up, and I home by coach round the town. Dined at home, Balty and myself putting up my papers in my closet in the office. He away, I down to Deptford and there spoke with Bagwell and agreed upon tomorrow, and come home in the rain by water. In the evening at Sir W. Penn’s; with my wife, at supper, he in a mad, ridiculous, drunken humour; and it seems there have been some late distances between his lady and him, as my [wife] tells me. After supper, I home, and with Mr. Hater, Gibson,2976 and Tom alone, got all my chests and money into the further cellar with much pains, but great content to me when done. So very late and weary, to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to St. James’s by water, and there did our usual business with the Duke of York. Thence I to Westminster, and there, spoke with Michell and Howlett, who tell me how their poor young ones are going to Shadwell’s. The latter told me of the unkindness of the young man to his wife, which is now over, and I have promised to appear a counsellor to him. I am glad she is like to be so near us again. Thence to Martin, and there did tout ce que je voudrais avec her, and drank, and away by water home and to dinner, Balty and his wife there. After dinner I took him down with me to Deptford, and there by the Bezan loaded above half my goods and sent them away. So we back home, and then I found occasion to return in the dark and to Bagwell, and there … did do all that I desired, but though I did intend pour avoir demeurais con elle today last night, yet when I had done ce que je voudrais I did hate both elle and la cose, and taking occasion from the occasion of su marido’s return … did me lever, and so away home late to Sir W. Penn’s (Balty and his wife lying at my house), and there in the same simple humour I found Sir W. Penn, and so late to bed.
. Up, and down to Tower Wharf; and there, with Balty and labourers from Deptford, did get my goods housed well at home. So down to Deptford again to fetch the rest, and there eat a bit of dinner at the Globe, with the master of the Bezan with me, while the labourers went to dinner. Here I hear that this poor town do bury still of the plague seven or eight in a day. So to Sir G. Carteret’s to work, and there did to my content ship off into the Bezan all the rest of my goods, saving my pictures and fine things, that I will bring home in wherries when the house is fit to receive them: and so home, and unload them by carts and hands before night, to my exceeding satisfaction: and so after supper to bed in my house, the first time I have lain there; and lay with my wife in my old closet upon the ground, and Balty and his wife in the best chamber, upon the ground also.
. Up, and to work, having carpenters come to help in setting up bedsteads and hangings; and at that trade my people and I all the morning, till pressed by public business to leave them against my will in the afternoon: and yet I was troubled in being at home, to see all my goods lie up and down the house in a bad condition, and strange workmen going to and fro might take what they would almost. All the afternoon busy; and Sir W. Coventry come to me, and found me, as God would have it, in my office, and people about me setting my papers to rights; and there discoursed about getting an account ready against the Parliament, and thereby did create me infinite of business, and to be done on a sudden; which troubled me: but, however, he being gone, I about it late, and to good purpose. And so home, having this day also got my wine out of the ground again, and set in my cellar; but with great pain to keep the porters that carried it in from observing the money-chests there. So to bed as last night, only my wife and I upon a bedstead with curtains in that which was Mercer’s chamber, and Balty and his wife (who are here and do us good service), where we lay last night. This day, poor Tom Pepys, the turner, was with me, and Kate Joyce, to bespeake places; one for himself, the other for her husband. She tells me he hath lost £140 per annum, but have seven houses left.
. All the morning at the office, Harman being come to my great satisfaction to put up my beds and hangings, so I am at rest, and followed my business all day. Dined with Sir W. Batten, mighty busy about this account, and while my people were busy, wrote near thirty letters and orders with my own hand. At it till eleven at night; and it is strange to see how clear my head was, being eased of all the matter of all these letters; whereas one would think that I should have been dazed. I never did observe so much of myself in my life. In the evening there comes to me Captain Cocke, and walked a good while in the garden. He says he hath computed that the rents of houses lost by this fire in the City comes to £600,000 per annum; that this will make the Parliament more quiet than otherwise they would have been, and give the King a more ready supply; that the supply must be by excise, as it is in Holland; that the Parliament will see it necessary to carry on the war; that the late storm hindered our beating the Dutch fleet, who were gone out only to satisfy the people, having no business to do but to avoid us; that the French, as late in the yeare as it is, are coming; that the Dutch are really in bad condition, but that this unhappiness of ours do give them heart; that there was a late difference between my Lord Arlington and Sir W. Coventry about neglect in the last to send away an express of the other’s in time; that it come before the King, and the Duke of York concerned himself in it; but this fire hath stopped it. The Dutch fleet is not gone home, but rather to the North, and so dangerous to our Gottenburgh fleet. That the Parliament is likely to fall foul upon some persons; and, among others, on the Vice-chamberlaine,2977 though we both believe with little ground. That certainly never so great a loss as this was borne so well by citizens in the world; he believing that not one merchant upon the ’Change will break upon it. That he do not apprehend there will be any disturbances in State upon it; for that all men are busy in looking after their own business to save themselves. He gone, I to finish my letters, and home to bed; and find to my infinite joy many rooms clean; and myself and wife lie in our own chamber again. But much terrified in the nights nowadays with dreams of fire, and falling down of houses.
. Lay with much pleasure in bed talking with my wife about Mr. Hater’s lying here and W. Hewer also, if Mrs. Mercer leaves her house. To the office, whither also all my people about this account, and there busy all the morning. At noon, with my wife, against her will, all undressed and dirty, dined at Sir W. Penn’s, where was all the company of our families in town; but, Lord! so sorry a dinner: venison baked in pans, that the dinner I have had for his lady alone hath been worth four of it. Thence, after dinner, displeased with our entertainment, to my office again, and there till almost midnight and my people with me, and then home, my head mightily aching about our accounts.
. Up betimes, and shaved myself after a week’s growth, but, Lord! how ugly I was yesterday and how fine today! By water, seeing the City all the way, a sad sight indeed, much fire being still in. To Sir W. Coventry, and there read over my yesterday’s work: being a collection of the particulars of the excess of charge created by a war, with good content. Sir W. Coventry was in great pain lest the French fleet should be passed by our fleet, who had notice of them on Saturday, and were preparing to go meet them; but their minds altered, and judged them merchantmen, when the same day the Success, Captain Ball,2978 made their whole fleet, and come to Brighthelmstone, and thence at five o’clock afternoon, Saturday, wrote Sir W. Coventry news thereof; so that we do much fear our missing them. Here come in and talked with him Sir Thomas Clifford,2979 who appears a very fine gentleman, and much set by at Court for his activity in going to sea, and stoutness everywhere, and stirring up and down. Thence by coach over the ruines, down Fleet Street and Cheapside to Broad Street to Sir G. Carteret, where Sir W. Batten (and Sir J. Minnes, whom I had not seen a long time before, being his first coming abroad) and Lord Brouncker passing his accounts. Thence home a little to look after my people at work and back to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner; and thence, after some discourse with him upon our public accounts, I back home, and all the day with Harman and his people finishing the hangings and beds in my house, and the hangings will be as good as ever, and particularly in my new closet. They gone and I weary, my wife and I, and Balty and his wife, who come hither today to help us, to a barrel of oysters I sent from the river today, and so to bed.
. Strange with what freedom and quantity I pissed this night, which I know not what to impute to but my oysters, unless the coldness of the night should cause it, for it was a sad rainy and tempestuous night. Soon as up I begun to have some pain in my bladder and belly, as usual, which made me go to dinner betimes, to fill my belly, and that did ease me, so as I did my business in the afternoon, in forwarding the settling of my house, very well. Betimes to bed, my wife also being all this day ill in the same manner. Troubled at my wife’s haire coming off so much. This day the Parliament met, and adjourned till Friday, when the King will be with them.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn by coach to St. James’s, and there did our usual business before the Duke of York; which signified little, our business being only complaints of lack of money. Here I saw a bastard of the late King of Sweden’s come to kiss his hands; a mighty modish French-like gentleman. Thence to Whitehall, with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn, to Wilkes’s; and there did hear the many profane stories of Sir Henry Wood2980 damning the parsons for so much spending the wine at the sacrament, cursing that ever they took the cup to themselves, and then another story that he valued not all the world’s curses, for two pence he shall get at any time the prayers of some poor body that is worth a 1,000 of all their curses; Lord Norwich drawing a tooth at a health. Another time, he and Pinchbacke and Dr. Goffe,2981 now a religious man, Pinchbacke did begin a frolic to drink out of a glass with a toad in it that he had taken up going out to shit, he did it without harm. Goffe, who knew sacke would kill the toad, called for sacke; and when he saw it dead, says he, “I will have a quick toad, and will not drink from a dead toad.”2982 By that means, no other being to be found, he escaped the health. Thence home, and dined, and to Deptford and got all my pictures put into wherries, and my other fine things, and landed them all very well, and brought them home, and got Sympson to set them all up tonight; and he gone, I and the boy to finish and set up my books, and everything else in my house, till two o’clock; in the morning, and then to bed; but mightily troubled, and even in my sleep, at my missing four or five of my biggest books. Speed’s Chronicle and Maps, and the two parts of Waggoner,2983 and a book of cards, which I suppose I have put up with too much care, that I have forgot where they are; for sure they are not stole. Two little pictures of sea and ships and a little gilt frame belonging to my plate of the River, I want; but my books do heartily trouble me. Most of my gilt frames are hurt, which also troubles me, but most my books. This day I put on two shirts, the first time this year, and do grow well upon it; so that my disease is nothing but wind.
. Up, much troubled about my books, but cannot imagine where they should be. Up, to the setting my closet to rights, and Sir W. Coventry takes me at it, which did not displease me. He and I to discourse about our accounts, and the bringing them to the Parliament, and with much content to see him rely so well on my part. He and I together to Broad Street to the Vice-Chamberlain, and there discoursed a while and parted. My Lady Carteret come to town, but I did not see her. He tells me how the fleet is come into the Downs. Nothing done, nor French fleet seen: we drove all from our anchors. But he says news is come that De Ruyter2984 is dead, or very near it, of a hurt in his mouth, upon the discharge of one of his own guns; which put him into a fever, and he likely to die, if not already dead. We parted, and I home to dinner, and after dinner to the setting things in order, and all my people busy about the same work. In the afternoon, out by coach, my wife with me, which we have not done several weeks now, through all the ruines, to show her them, which frets her much, and is a sad sight indeed. Set her down at her brother’s, and thence I to Westminster Hall, and there stayed a little while, and called her home. She did give me an account of great differences between her mother and Balty’s wife. The old woman charges her with going abroad and staying out late, and painting in the absence of her husband, and I know not what; and they grow proud, both he and she, and do not help their father and mother out of what I help them to, which I do not like, nor my wife. So home, and to the office, to even my journal, and then home, and very late up with Jane setting my books in perfect order in my closet, but am mightily troubled for my great books that I miss, and I am troubled the more for fear there should be more missing than what I find, though by the room they take on the shelves I do not find any reason to think it. So to bed.
. Up, and mightily pleased with the setting of my books the last night in order, and that which did please me most of all is that W. Hewer tells me that upon enquiry he do find that Sir W. Penn hath a hamper more than his own, which he took for a hamper of bottles of wine, and are books in it. I was impatient to see it, but they were carried into a wine-cellar, and the boy is abroad with him at the House, where the Parliament met today, and the King2985 to be with them. At noon after dinner I sent for Harry, and he tells me it is so, and brought me by and by my hamper of books to my great joy, with the same books I missed, and three more great ones, and no more. I did give him 5s. for his pains. And so home with great joy, and to the setting of some off them right, but could not finish it, but away by coach to the other end of the town, leaving my wife at the ’Change, but neither come time enough to the Council to speak with the Duke of York, nor with Sir G. Carteret, and so called my wife, and paid for some things she bought, and so home, and there after a little doing at the office about our accounts, which now draw near the time they should be ready, the House having ordered Sir G. Carteret, upon his offering them, to bring them in on Saturday next, I home, and there, with great pleasure, very late new setting all my books; and now I am in as good condition as I desire to be in all worldly respects. The Lord of Heaven make me thankful, and continue me therein! So to bed. This day I had new stairs of main timber put to my cellar going into the yard.
. To my closet, and had it new washed, and now my house is so clean as I never saw it, or any other house in my life, and everything in as good condition as ever before the fire; but with, I believe, about £20 cost one way or other besides about £20 charge in removing my goods, and do not find that I have lost anything but two little pictures of ship and sea, and a little gold frame for one of my sea-cards. My glazier, indeed, is so full of worke that I cannot get him to come to perfect my house. To the office, and there busy now for good and all about my accounts. My Lord Brunck come thither, thinking to find an office, but we have not yet met. He do now give me a watch, a plain one, in the roome of my former watch with many motions which I did give him. If it goes well, I care not for the difference in worth, though believe there is above £5. He and I to Sir G. Carteret to discourse about his account, but Mr. Waith not being there nothing could be done, and therefore I home again, and busy all day. In the afternoon comes Anthony Joyce to see me, and with tears told me his losse, but yet that he had something left that he can live well upon, and I doubt it not. But he would buy some place that he could have and yet keepe his trade where he is settled in St. Jones’s.2986 He gone, I to the office again, and then to Sir G. Carteret, and there found Mr. Wayth, but, Lord! how fretfully Sir G. Carteret do discourse with Mr. Wayth about his accounts, like a man that understands them not one word. I held my tongue and let him go on like a passionate foole. In the afternoon I paid for the two lighters that carried my goods to Deptford, and they cost me £8. Till past midnight at our accounts, and have brought them to a good issue, so as to be ready to meet Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry tomorrow, but must work tomorrow, which Mr. T. Hater had no mind to, it being the Lord’s day, but, being told the necessity, submitted, poor man! This night writ for brother John to come to town. Among other reasons, my estate lying in money, I am afeard of any sudden miscarriage. So to bed mightily contented in dispatching so much business, and find my house in the best condition that ever I knew it. Home to bed.
. Up, and after being trimmed, all the morning at the office with my people about me till about one o’clock, and then home, and my people with me, and Mr. Wayth and I eat a bit of victuals in my old closet, now my little dining room, which makes a pretty room, and my house being so clean makes me mightily pleased, but only I do lacke Mercer or somebody in the house to sing with. Soon as eat a bit Mr. Wayth and I by water to Whitehall, and there at Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings Sir W. Coventry met, and we did debate the whole business of our accounts to the Parliament; where it appears to us that the charge of the war from September 1st, 1664, to this Michaelmas, will have been but £3,200,000, and we have paid in that time somewhat about £2,200,000; so that we owe above £900,000: but our method of accounting, though it cannot, I believe, be far wide from the mark, yet will not abide a strict examination if the Parliament should be troublesome. Here happened a pretty question of Sir W. Coventry, whether this account of ours will not put my Lord Treasurer to a difficulty to tell what is become of all the money the Parliament have given in this time for the war, which hath amounted to about £4,000,000, which nobody there could answer; but I perceive they did doubt what his answer could be. Having done, and taken from Sir W. Coventry the minutes of a letter to my Lord Treasurer, Wayth and I back again to the office, and thence back down to the water with my wife and landed him in Southwarke, and my wife and I for pleasure to Fox-hall, and there eat and drank, and so back home, and I to the office till midnight drawing the letter we are to send with our accounts to my Lord Treasurer, and that being done to my mind, I home to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to St. James’s, and there with Sir W. Coventry read and all approved of my letter, and then home, and after dinner, Mr. Hater and Gibson dining with me, to the office, and there very late new moulding my accounts and writing fair my letter, which I did against the evening, and then by coach left my wife at her brother’s, and I to St. James’s, and up and down to look [for] Sir W. Coventry; and at last found him and Sir G. Carteret with the Lord Treasurer at Whitehall, consulting how to make up my Lord Treasurer’s general account, as well as that of the Navy particularly. Here brought the letter, but found that Sir G. Carteret had altered his account since he did give me the abstract of it: so all my letter must be writ over again, to put in his last abstract. So to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings, to speak a little about the alteration; and there looking over the book that Sir G. Carteret intends to deliver to the Parliament of his payments since September 1st, 1664, and there I find my name the very second for flags, which I had bought for the Navy, of calico; once, about 500 and odd pounds, which vexed me mightily. At last, I concluded of scraping out my name and putting in Mr. Tooker’s, which eased me; though the price was such as I should have had glory by. Here I saw my Lady Carteret lately come to town, who, good lady! is mighty kind, and I must make much of her, for she is a most excellent woman. So took up my wife and away home, and there to bed, and …
… up betimes, with all my people to get the letter writ over, and other things done, which I did, and by coach to Lord Brouncker’s, and got his hand to it; and then to the Parliament House and got it signed by the rest, and then delivered it at the House-door to Sir Philip Warwicke; Sir G. Carteret being gone into the House with his book of accounts under his arme, to present to the House. I had brought my wife to Whitehall, and leaving her with Mrs. Michell, where she sat in her shop and had burnt wine sent for her, I walked in the Hall, and among others with Ned Pickering, who continues still a lying, bragging coxcombe, telling me that my Lord Sandwich may thank himself for all his misfortune; for not suffering him and two or three good honest fellows more to take them by the throats that spoke ill of him, and told me how basely Lionell Walden2987 hath carried himself towards my Lord; by speaking slightly of him, which I shall remember. Thence took my wife home to dinner, and then to the office, where Mr. Hater all the day putting in order and entering in a book all the measures that this account of the Navy hath been made up by, and late at night to Mrs. Turner’s, where she had got my wife and Lady Penn and Pegg, and supped, and after, supper and the rest of the company by design gone, Mrs. Turner and her husband did lay their case to me about their lodgings, Sir J. Minnes being now gone wholly to his own, and now, they being empty, they doubt Sir T. Harvy or Lord Brouncker may look after the lodgings. I did give them the best advice, poor people, that I could, and would do them any kindness, though it is strange that now they should have ne’er a friend of Sir W. Batten or Sir W. Penn to trust to but me, that they have disobliged. So home to bed, and all night still mightily troubled in my sleepe, with fire and houses pulling down.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to St. James’s, where everybody going to the House, I away by coach to Whitehall, and after a few turns, and hearing that our accounts come into the House but today, being hindered yesterday by other business, I away by coach home, taking up my wife and calling at Bennet’s, our late mercer, who is come into Covent Garden to a fine house looking down upon the Exchange; and I perceive many Londoners every day come; and Mr. Pierce hath let his wife’s closet, and the little blind bed chamber, and a garret to a silke man for £50 fine, and £30 per annum, and £40 per annum more for dieting the master and two prentices. So home, not agreeing for silk for a petticoat for her which she desired, but home to dinner and then back to Whitehall, leaving my wife by the way to buy her petticoat of Bennet, and I to Whitehall waiting all day on the Duke of York to move the King for getting Lanyon some money at Plymouth out of some oil prizes brought in thither, but could get nothing done, but here Mr. Dugdale2988 I hear the great loss of books in St. Paul’s Church-yarde, and at their Hall also, which they value about £150,000; some booksellers being wholly undone, among others, they say, my poor Kirton. And Mr. Crumlum2989 all his books and household stuff burned; they trusting St. Fayth’s, and the roof of the church falling, broke the arch down into the lower church, and so all the goods burned. A very great loss. His father2990 hath lost above £1,000 in books; one book newly printed, a Discourse, it seems, of Courts. Here I had the hap to see my Lady Denham: and at night went into the dining room and saw several fine ladies; among others, Castlemayne, but chiefly Denham again; and the Duke of York taking her aside and talking to her in the sight of all the world, all alone; which was strange, and what also I did not like. Here I met with good Mr. Evelyn, who cries out against it, and calls it bitchering2991 for the Duke of York talks a little to her, and then she goes away, and then he follows her again like a dog. He observes that none of the nobility come out of the country at all to help the King, or comfort him, or prevent commotions at this fire; but do as if the King were nobody; nor ne’er a priest comes to give the King and Court good council, or to comfort the poor people that suffer; but all is dead, nothing of good in any of their minds: he bemoans it, and says he fears more ruin hangs over our heads. Thence away by coach, and called away my wife at Unthanke’s, where she tells me she hath bought a gown of 15s. per yard; the same, before her face, my Lady Castlemayne this day bought also, which I seemed vexed for, though I do not grudge it her, but to incline her to have Mercer again, which I believe I shall do, but the girl, I hear, has no mind to come to us again, which vexes me. Being come home, I to Sir W. Batten, and there hear our business was tendered to the House today, and a Committee of the whole House chosen to examine our accounts, and a great many Hotspurs enquiring into it, and likely to give us much trouble and blame, and perhaps (which I am afeard of) will find faults enow to demand better officers. This I truly fear. Away with Sir W. Penn, who was there, and he and I walked in the garden by moonlight, and he proposes his and my looking out into Scotland about timber, and to use Pett there; for timber will be a good commodity this time of building the City; and I like the motion, and doubt not that we may do good in it. We did also discourse about our Privateer, and hope well of that also, without much hazard, as, if God blesses us, I hope we shall do pretty well toward getting a penny. I was mightily pleased with our discourse, and so parted, and to the office to finish my journal for three or four days, and so home to supper, and to bed. Our fleet abroad, and the Dutch too, for all we know; the weather very bad; and under the command of an unlucky man, I fear. God bless him, and the fleet under him!
. A very furious blowing night all the night; and my mind still mightily perplexed with dreams, and burning the rest of the town, and waking in much pain for the fleet. Up, and with my wife by coach as far as the Temple, and there she to the mercer’s again, and I to look out Penny, my tailor, to speak for a cloak and cassock for my brother, who is coming to town; and I will have him in a canonical dress, that he may be the fitter to go abroad with me. I then to the Exchequer, and there, among other things, spoke to Mr. Falconbridge about his girl I heard sing at Nonsuch, and took him and some other ’Chequer men to the Sun Tavern, and there spent 2s. 6d. upon them, and he sent for the girl, and she hath a pretty way of singing, but hath almost forgot for want of practice. She is poor in clothes, and not bred to any carriage, but will be soon taught all, and if Mercer do not come again, I think we may have her upon better terms, and breed her to what we please. Thence to Sir W. Coventry’s, and there dined with him and Sir W. Batten, the Lieutenant of the Tower, and Mr. Thin,2992 a pretty gentleman, going to Gottenburgh. Having dined, Sir W. Coventry, Sir W. Batten, and I walked into his closet to consider of some things more to be done in a list to be given to the Parliament of all our ships, and time of entry and discharge. Sir W. Coventry seems to think they will soon be weary of the business, and fall quietly into the giving the King what is fit. This he hopes. Thence I by coach home to the office, and there intending a meeting, but nobody being there but myself and Sir J. Minnes, who is worse than nothing, I did not answer anybody, but kept to my business in the office till night, and then Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to me, and thence to Sir W. Batten’s, and eat a barrel of oysters I did give them, and so home, and to bed. I have this evening discoursed with W. Hewer about Mercer, I having a mind to have her again; and I am vexed to hear him say that she hath no mind to come again, though her mother hath. No news of the fleet yet, but that they went by Dover on the 25th towards the Gunfleete, but whether the Dutch be yet abroad, or no, we hear not. De Ruyter is not dead, but like to do well. Most think that the gross of the French fleet are gone home again.
. Lay long in bed, and am come to agreement with my wife to have Mercer again, on condition she may learn this winter two months to dance, and she promises me she will endeavour to learn to sing, and all this I am willing enough to. So up, and by and by the glazier comes to finish the windows of my house, which pleases me, and the bookbinder to gild the backs of my books. I got the glass of my book-presses to be done presently, which did mightily content me, and to setting my study in a little better order; and so to my office to my people, busy about our Parliament accounts; and so to dinner, and then at them again close. At night comes Sir W. Penn, and he and I a turn in the garden, and he broke to me a proposition of his and my joining in a design of fetching timber and deals from Scotland, by the help of Mr. Pett upon the place; which, while London is building, will yield good money. I approve it. We judged a third man, that is knowing, is necessary, and concluded on Sir W. Warren, and sent for him to come to us tomorrow morning. I full of this all night, and the project of our man of war; but he and I both dissatisfied with Sir W. Batten’s proposing his son to be Lieutenant, which we, neither of us, like. He gone, I discoursed with W. Hewer about Mercer, having a great mind she should come to us again, and instructed him what to say to her mother about it. And so home, to supper, and to bed.
. A little meeting at the office by Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, and myself, being the first since the fire. We rose soon, and comes Sir W. Warren, by our desire, and with Sir W. Penn and I talked of our Scotch motion, which Sir W. Warren did seem to be stumbled at, and did give no ready answer, but proposed some thing previous to it, which he knows would find us work, or writing to Mr. Pett to be informed how matters go there as to cost and ways of providing sawyers or sawmills. We were parted without coming to any good resolution in it, I discerning plainly that Sir W. Warren had no mind to it, but that he was surprised at our motion. He gone, I to some office business, and then home to dinner, and then to office again, and then got done by night the lists that are to be presented to the Parliament Committee of the ships, number of men, and time employed since the war, and then I with it (leaving my wife at Unthanke’s) to St. James’s, where Sir W. Coventry stayed for me, and I perused our lists, and find to our great joy that wages, victuals, wear and tear, cast by the medium of the men, will come to above 3,000,000; and that the extraordinaries, which all the world will allow us, will arise to more than will justify the expense we have declared to have been at since the war, viz., £320,000, he and I being both mightily satisfied, he saying to me, that if God send us over this rub we must take another course for a better Comptroller. So parted, and I to my wife [at Unthanke’s], who stayed for the finishing her new best gown (the best that ever I made her), coloured tabby, flowered, and so took it and her home; and then I to my people, and having cut them out a little more work than they expected, viz., the writing over the lists in new method, I home to bed, being in good humour, and glad of the end we have brought this matter to.
. Up, and to church, where I have not been a good while: and there the church infinitely thronged with strangers since the fire come into our parish; but not one handsome face in all of them, as if, indeed, there was a curse, as Bishop Fuller heretofore said, upon our parish. Here I saw Mercer come into the church, which I had a mind to, but she avoided looking up, which vexed me. A pretty good sermon, and then home, and comes Balty and dined with us. A good dinner; and then to have my haire cut against winter close to my head, and then to church again. A sorry sermon, and away home. [Sir] W. Penn and I to walk to talk about several businesses, and then home; and my wife and I to read in Fuller’s Church History, and so to supper and to bed. This month ends with my mind full of business and concernment how this office will speed with the Parliament, which begins to be mighty severe in the examining our accounts, and the expense of the Navy this war.
October 1666
. Up, and all the morning at the office, getting the list of all the ships and vessels employed since the war, for the Committee of Parliament. At noon with it to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there dined with him and [Sir] W. Batten, and [Sir] W. Penn, and after dinner examined it and find it will do us much right in the number of men rising to near the expense we delivered to the Parliament. [Sir] W. Coventry and I (the others going before the Committee) to Lord Brouncker’s for his hand, and find him simply mighty busy in a council of the Queen’s. He come out and took in the papers to sign, and sent them mighty wisely out again. Sir W. Coventry away to the Committee, and I to the Mercer’s, and there took a bill of what I owe of late, which comes to about £17. Thence to Whitehall, and there did hear Betty Michell was at this end of the town, and so without breach of vowe did stay to endeavour to meet with her and carry her home; but she did not come, so I lost my whole afternoon. But pretty! how I took another pretty woman for her, taking her a clap on the breech, thinking verily it had been her. Stayed till [Sir] W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn come out, and so away home by water with them, and to the office to do some business, and then home, and my wife do tell me that W. Hewer tells her that Mercer hath no mind to come. So I was angry at it, and resolved with her to have Falconbridge’s girl, and I think it will be better for us, and will please me better with singing. With this resolution, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and am sent for to Sir G. Carteret, and to him, and there he tells me how our lists are referred to a Subcommittee to consider and examine, and that I am ordered to be there this afternoon. So I away thence to my new bookbinder to see my books gilding in the backs, and then to Whitehall to the House, and spoke to Sir W. Coventry, where he told me I must attend the Committee in the afternoon, and received some hints of more work to do. So I away to the ’Chequer, and thence to an alehouse, and found Mr. Falconbridge, and agreed for his kinswoman to come to me. He says she can dress my wife, and will do anything we would have her to do, and is of a good spirit and mighty cheerful. He is much pleased therewith, and so we shall be. So agreed for her coming the next week. So away home, and eat a short dinner, and then with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, and do give his boy my book of papers to hold while he went into the Committee Chamber in the Inner Court of Wards,2993 and I walked without with Mr. Slingsby, of the Tower, who was there, and who did in walking inform me mightily in several things; among others, that the heightening or lowering of money is only a cheat, and do good to some particular men, which, if I can but remember how, I am now by him fully convinced of. Anon Sir W. Penn went away, telling me that Sir W. Coventry that was within had told him that the fleet is all come into the buoy of the Nore, and that he must hasten down to them, and so went away, and I into the Committee Chamber before the Committee sat, and there heard Birch discourse highly and understandingly about the Navy business and a proposal made heretofore to farm the Navy; but Sir W. Coventry did abundantly answer him, and is a most excellent person. By and by the Committee met, and I walked out, and anon they rose and called me in, and appointed me to attend a Committee of them tomorrow at the office to examine our lists. This put me into a mighty fear and trouble; they doing it in a very ill humour, methought. So I away and called on my Lord Brouncker to desire him to be there tomorrow, and so home, having taken up my wife at Unthanke’s, full of trouble in mind to think what I shall be obliged to answer, that am neither fully fit, nor in any measure concerned to take the shame and trouble of this office upon me, but only from the inability and folly of the Comptroller that occasions it. When come home I to Sir W. Penn’s, to his boy, for my book, and there find he hath it not, but delivered it to the doorkeeper of the Committee for me. This, added to my former disquiet, made me stark mad, considering all the nakedness of the office lay open in papers within those covers. I could not tell in the world what to do, but was mad on all sides, and that which made me worse Captain Cocke was there, and he did so swear and curse at the boy that told me. So Cocke, Griffin, and the boy with me, they to find the housekeeper of the Parliament, Hughes, while I to Sir W. Coventry, but could hear nothing of it there. But coming to our rendezvous at the Swan Tavern, in King Street, I find they have found the housekeeper, and the book simply locked up in the Court. So I stayed and drank, and rewarded the doorkeeper, and away home, my heart lighter by all this, but to bed very sad notwithstanding, in fear of what will happen tomorrow upon their coming.
. Waked betimes, mightily troubled in mind, and in the most true trouble that I ever was in my life, saving in the business last year of the East India prizes. So up, and with Mr. Hater and W. Hewer and Griffin to consider of our business, and books and papers necessary for this examination; and by and by, by eight o’clock, comes Birch, the first, with the lists and books of accounts delivered in. He calls me to work, and there he and I begun, when, by and by, comes Garraway,2994 the first time I ever saw him, and Sir W. Thompson and Mr. Boscawen. They to it, and I did make shift to answer them better than I expected. Sir W. Batten, Lord Brouncker, [Sir] W. Penn, come in, but presently went out; and [Sir] J. Minnes come in, and said two or three words from the purpose, but to do hurt; and so away he went also, and left me all the morning with them alone to stand or fall. At noon Sir W. Batten comes to them to invite them (though fast day) to dinner, which they did, and good company they were, but especially Garraway. Here I have news brought me of my father’s coming to town, and I presently to him, glad to see him, poor man, he being come to town unexpectedly to see us and the city. I could not stay with him, but after dinner to work again, only the Committee and I, till dark night, and by that time they cast up all the lists, and found out what the medium of men was borne all the war, of all sorts, and ended with good peace, and much seeming satisfaction; but I find them wise and reserved, and instructed to hit all our blots, as among others, that we reckon the ships full manned from the beginning. They gone, and my heart eased of a great deal of fear and pain, and reckoning myself to come off with victory, because not overcome in anything or much foiled, I away to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, but he not within, then to Whitehall, and there among the ladies, and saw my Lady Castlemaine never looked so ill, nor Mrs. Stewart neither, as in this plain, natural dress. I was not pleased with either of them. Away, not finding [Sir] W. Coventry, and so home, and there find my father and my brother come to town—my father without my expectation; but glad I am to see him. And so to supper with him, and to work again at the office; then home, to set up all my folio books, which are come home gilt on the backs, very handsome to the eye, and then at midnight to bed. This night [Sir] W. Penn told me [Sir] W. Batten swears he will have nothing to do with the Privateer if his son do not go Lieutenant, which angers me and him; but we will be even with him, one way or other.
. Up, and mighty betimes, to [Sir] W. Coventry, to give him an account of yesterday’s work, which do give him good content. He did then tell me his speech lately to the House in his own vindication about the report of his selling of places, he having a small occasion offered him by chance, which he did desire, and took, and did it to his content, and, he says, to the House’s seeming to approve of it by their hum. He confessed how long he had done it, and how he desired to have something else; and, since then, he had taken nothing, and challenged all the world. I was glad of this also. Thence up to the Duke of York, by appointment, with fellow officers, to complaine, but to no purpose, of want of money, and so away. I to Sir G. Carteret, to his lodging, and here discoursed much of the want of money and our being designed for destruction. How the King hath lost his power, by submitting himself to this way of examining his accounts, and is become but as a private man. He says the King is troubled at it, but they talk an entry2995 shall be made, that it is not to be brought into example; that the King must, if they do not agree presently, make them a courageous speech, which he says he may do, the City of London being now burned, and himself master of an army, better than any prince before him, and so I believe. Thence home, about noon, to dinner. After dinner the book binder come, and I sent by him some more books to gild. I to the office all day, and spent most of it with Sir W. Warren, whom I have had no discourse with a great while, and when all is done I do find him a mighty wise man as any I know, and his counsel as much to be followed. Late with Mr. Hater upon comparing the charge and husbandry of the last Dutch war with ours now, and do find good roome to think we have done little worse than they, whereof good use may and will be made. So home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and with my father talking awhile, then to the office, and there troubled with a message from Lord Peterborough about money; but I did give as kind answer as I could, though I hate him. Then to Sir G. Carteret to discourse about paying of part of the great ships come in, and so home again to compare the comparison of the two Dutch wars’ charges for [Sir] W. Coventry, and then by water (and saw old Mr. Michell digging like a painful father for his son) to him, and find him at dinner. After dinner to look over my papers, and comparing them with some notes of his and brought me, the sight of some good Navy notes of his which I shall get. Then examined and liked well my notes, and away together to Whitehall, in the way discoursing the inconvenience of the King’s being thus subject to an account, but it will be remedied for the time to come, he thinks, if we can get this over, and I find he will have the Comptroller’s business better done, swearing he will never be for a wit to be employed on business again. Thence I home, and back again to Whitehall, and meeting Sir H. Cholmly to Whitehall; there walked till night that the Committee come down, and there Sir W. Coventry tells me that the Subcommittee have made their report to the Grand Committee, and in pretty kind terms, and have agreed upon allowing us £4 per head, which I am sure will do the business, but he had endeavoured to have got more, but this do well, and he and I are both mighty glad it is come to this, and the heat of the present business seems almost over. But I have more worke cut out for me, to prepare a list of the extraordinaries, not to be included within the £4, against Monday. So I away from him, and met with the Vice-Chamberlain, and I told him when I had this evening in coming hither met with Captain Cocke, and he told me of a wild motion made in the House of Lords by the Duke of Buckingham for all men that had cheated the King to be declared traitors and felons, and that my Lord Sandwich was named. This put me into a great pain, so the Vice-Chamberlain, who had heard nothing of it, having been all day in the City, away with me to Whitehall; and there come to me and told me that, upon Lord Ashly’s asking their direction whether, being a peere, he should bring in his accounts to the Commons, which they did give way to, the Duke of Buckingham did move that, for the time to come, what I have written above might be declared by some fuller law than heretofore. Lord Ashly answered, that it was not the fault of the present laws, but want of proof; and so said the Lord Chancellor. He answered, that a better law, he thought, might be made so the House laughing, did refer it to him to bring in a Bill to that purpose, and this was all. So I away with joyful heart home, calling on Cocke and telling him the same. So I away home to the office to clear my Journal for five days, and so home to supper and to bed, my father who had stayed out late and troubled me thereat being come home well and gone to bed, which pleases me also. This day, coming home, Mr. Kirton’s kinsman, my bookseller, come in my way; and so I am told by him that Mr. Kirton is utterly undone, and made 2 or £3,000 worse than nothing, from being worth 7 or £8,000. That the goods laid in the Churchyarde fired through the windows those in St. Fayth’s church; and those coming to the warehouses’ doors fired them, and burned all the books and the pillars of the church, so as the roof falling down, broke quite down, which it did not do in the other places of the church, which is alike pillared (which I knew not before); but being not burned, they stand still. He do believe there is above £50,000 of books burned; all the great booksellers almost undone: not only these, but their warehouses at their Hall, and under Christchurch, and elsewhere being all burned. A great want thereof there will be of books, specially Latin books and foreign books; and, among others, the Polyglots2996 and new Bible, which he believes will be presently worth £40 apiece.
. Up, and having seen my brother in his cassocke, which I am not the most satisfied in, being doubtful at this time what course to have him profess too soon. To the office and there busy about a list of the extraordinaries of the charge of the fleet this war; and was led to go to the office of the ordnance to be satisfied in something, and find their accounts and books kept in mighty good order, but that they can give no light, nor will the nature of their affairs permit it to tell what the charge of the ordnance comes to a man a month. So home again and to dinner, there coming Creed to me; but what with business and my hatred to the man, I did not spend any time with him, but after dinner [my] wife and he and I took coach and to Westminster, but he ’light about Paul’s, and set her at her tailor’s, and myself to St. James’s, but there missing [Sir] W. Coventry, returned and took up my wife, and calling at the Exchange home, whither Sir H. Cholmly come to visit me, but my business suffered me not to stay with him. So he gone I by water to Westminster Hall and thence to St. James’s, and there found [Sir] W. Coventry waiting for me, and I did give him a good account to his mind of the business he expected about extraordinaries and then fell to other talk, among others, our sad condition contracted by want of a Comptroller;2997 and it was his words, that he believes, besides all the shame and trouble he hath brought on the office, the King had better have given £100,000 than ever have had him there. He did discourse about some of these discontented Parliament-men, and says that Birch is a false rogue, but that Garraway is a man that hath not been well used by the Court, though very stout to death, and hath suffered all that is possible for the King from the beginning. But discontented as he is, yet he never knew a Session of Parliament but he hath done some good deed for the King before it rose. I told him the passage Cocke told me of his having begged a brace of bucks of the Lord Arlington for him, and when it come to him, he sent it back again. Sir W. Coventry told me, it is much to be pitied that the King should lose the service of a man so able and faithful; and that he ought to be brought over, but that it is always observed, that by bringing over one discontented man, you raise up three in his room; which is a State lesson I never knew before. But when others discover your fear, and that discontent procures favour, they will be discontented too, and impose on you. Thence to Whitehall and got a coach and home, and there did business late, and so home and set up my little books of one of my presses come home gilt, which pleases me mightily, and then to bed. This morning my wife told me of a fine gentlewoman my Lady Penn tells her of, for £20 per annum, that sings, dances, plays on four or five instruments and many other fine things, which pleases me mightily: and she sent to have her see her, which she did this afternoon; but sings basely, and is a tawdry wench that would take £8, but [neither] my wife nor I think her fit to come.
. Up, and after visiting my father in his chamber, to church, and then home to dinner. Little Michell and his wife come to dine with us, which they did, and then presently after dinner I with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, where met by Sir W. Batten and Lord Brouncker, to attend the King and Duke of York at the Cabinet; but nobody had determined what to speak of, but only in general to ask for money. So I was forced immediately to prepare in my mind a method of discoursing. And anon we were called in to the Green Room, where the King, Duke of York, Prince Rupert, Lord Chancellor, Lord Treasurer, Duke of Albemarle, [Sirs] G. Carteret, W. Coventry, Morrice. Nobody beginning, I did, and made a current, and I thought a good speech, laying open the ill state of the Navy: by the greatness of the debt; greatness of work to do against next yeare; the time and materials it would take; and our incapacity, through a total want of money. I had no sooner done, but Prince Rupert rose up and told the King in a heat, that whatever the gentleman had said, he had brought home his fleet in as good a condition as ever any fleet was brought home; that twenty boats would be as many as the fleet would want: and all the anchors and cables left in the storm might be taken up again. This arose from my saying, among other things we had to do, that the fleet was come in—the greatest fleet that ever his Majesty had yet together, and that in as bad condition as the enemy or weather could put it; and to use Sir W. Penn’s words, who is upon the place taking a survey, he dreads the reports he is to receive from the Surveyors of its defects.2998 I therefore did only answer, that I was sorry for his Highness’s offence, but that what I said was but the report we received from those entrusted in the fleet to inform us. He muttered and repeated what he had said; and so, after a long silence on all hands, nobody, not so much as the Duke of Albemarle, seconding the Prince, nor taking notice of what he said, we withdrew. I was not a little troubled at this passage, and the more when speaking with Jacke Fenn about it, he told me that the Prince will be asking now who this Pepys is, and find him to be a creature of my Lord Sandwich’s, and therefore this was done only to disparage him. Anon they broke, up, and Sir W. Coventry come out; so I asked his advice. He told me he had said something to salve it, which was, that his Highness had, he believed, rightly informed the King that the fleet is come in good condition to have stayed out yet longer, and have fought the enemy, but yet that Mr. Pepys his meaning might be, that, though in so good condition, if they should come in and lie all the winter, we shall be very loth to send them to sea for another year’s service with[out] great repairs. He said it would be no hurt if I went to him, and showed him the report himself brought up from the fleet, where every ship, by the Commander’s report, do need more or less, and not to mention more of Sir W. Penn for doing him a mischief. So I said I would, but do not think that all this will redound to my hurt, because the truth of what I said will soon appear. Thence, having been informed that, after all this pains, the King hath found out how to supply us with 5 or £6,000, when £100,000 were at this time but absolutely necessary, and we mentioned £50,000. This is every day a greater and greater omen of ruin. God fit us for it! Sir J. Minnes and I home (it raining) by coach, calling only on Sir G. Carteret at his lodging (who is I find troubled at my Lord Treasurer and Sir Ph. Warwicke bungling in his accounts), and come home to supper with my father, and then all to bed. I made my brother in his cassocke to say grace this day, but I like his voice so ill that I begin to be sorry he hath taken this order upon him.
. Up and to my office, called up by Commissioner Middleton,2999 newly come to town, but stayed not with me; so I to my office busy all the morning. Towards noon, by water to Westminster Hall, and there by several hear that the Parliament do resolve to do something to retrench Sir G. Carteret’s great salary; but cannot hear of anything bad they can lay to his charge. The House did this day order to be engrossed the Bill against importing Irish cattle; a thing, it seems, carried on by the Western Parliament-men, wholly against the sense of most of the rest of the House; who think if you do this, you give the Irish again cause to rebel. Thus plenty on both sides makes us mad. The Committee of the Canary Company of both factions come to me for my Cousin Roger that is of the Committee.3000 Thence with [Sir] W. Coventry when the House rose and [Sir] W. Batten to St. James’s, and there agreed of and signed our paper of extraordinaries, and there left them, and I to Unthanke’s, where Mr. Falconbridge’s girl is, and by and by comes my wife, who likes her well, though I confess I cannot (though she be of my finding out and sings pretty well), because she will be raised from so mean a condition to so high all of a sudden; but she will be much to our profit, more than Mercer, less expense. Here we bespoke a new gown for her, and to come to us on Friday. She being gone, my wife and I home by coach, and then I presently by water with Mr. Pierce to Westminster Hall, he in the way telling me how the Duke of York and Duke of Albemarle do not agree. The Duke of York is wholly given up to this bitch of Denham. The Duke of Albemarle and Prince Rupert do less agree. So that we are all in pieces, and nobody knows what will be done the next year. The King hath yesterday in Council declared his resolution of setting a fashion for clothes, which he will never alter.3001 It will be a vest, I know not well how; but it is to teach the nobility thrift, and will do good. By and by comes down from the Committee [Sir] W. Coventry, and I find him troubled at several things happened this afternoon, which vexes me also; our business looking worse and worse, and our worke growing on our hands. Time spending, and no money to set anything in hand with; the end thereof must be speedy ruin. The Dutch insult and have taken off Bruant’s head,3002 which they have not dared to do (though found guilty of the fault he did die for, of something of the Prince of Orange’s faction) till just now, which speaks more confidence in our being worse than before. Alderman Maynell, I hear, is dead. Thence returned in the dark by coach all alone, full of thoughts of the consequences of this ill complexion of affairs, and how to save myself and the little I have, which if I can do, I have cause to bless God that I am so well, and shall be well contented to retreat to Brampton, and spend the rest of my days there. So to my office, and did some business, and finished my Journal with resolutions, if God bless me, to apply myself soberly to settle all matters for myself, and expect the event of all with comfort. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where we sat the first day since the fire, I think. At noon home, and my uncle Thomas was there, and dined with my brother and I (my father and I were gone abroad), and then to the office again in the afternoon, and there close all day long, and did much business. At night to Sir W. Batten, where Sir R. Ford did occasion some discourse of sending a convoy to the Maderas; and this did put us upon some new thoughts of sending our privateer thither on merchants’ accounts, which I have more mind to, the profit being certain and occasion honest withall. So home, and to supper with my father, and then to set my remainder of my books gilt in order with much pleasure, and so late to bed.
.3003 Up with Sir W. Batten by water to Whitehall, and anon had a meeting before the Duke of York, where pretty to see how Sir W. Batten, that carried the surveys of all the fleet with him, to show their ill condition to the Duke of York, when he found the Prince there, did not speak one word, though the meeting was of his asking—for nothing else. And when I asked him, he told me he knew the Prince too well to anger him, so that he was afeard to do it. Thence with him to Westminster, to the parish church,3004 where the Parliament-men, and Stillingfleete in the pulpit. So full, no standing there; so he and I to eat herrings at the Dog Tavern. And then to church again, and there was Mr. Frampton3005 in the pulpit, they cry up so much, a young man, and of a mighty ready tongue. I heard a little of his sermon, and liked it; but the crowd so great, I could not stay. So to the Swan, and baise la fille, and drank, and then home by coach, and took father, wife, brother, and W. Hewer to Islington, where I find mine host dead. Here eat and drank, and merry; and so home, and to the office a while, and then to Sir W. Batten to talk a while, and with Captain Cocke into the office to hear his news, who is mighty conversant with Garraway and those people, who tells me what they object as to the maladministration of things as to money. But that they mean well, and will do well; but their reckonings are very good, and show great faults, as I will insert here. They say the king hath had towards this war expressly thus much:
Royal Ayde
£2,450,000
More
1,250,000
Three months’ tax given the King by a power of raising a month’s tax of £70,000 every year for three years
0,210,000
Customes, out of which the King did promise to pay £240,000, which for two years comes to
0,480,000
Prizes, which they moderately reckon at
0,300,000
A debt declared by the Navy, by us
0,900,000
5,590,000
The whole charge of the Navy, as we state it for two years and a month, hath been but
3,200,000
So what is become of all this sum?
2,390,000
He and I did bemoan our public condition. He tells me the Duke of Albemarle is under a cloud, and they have a mind at Court to lay him aside. This I know not; but all things are not right with him, and I am glad of it, but sorry for the time. So home to supper, and to bed, it being my wedding night,3006 but how many years I cannot tell; but my wife says ten.
. Up, and discoursed with my father of my sending some money for safety into the country, for I am in pain what to do with what I have. I did give him money, poor man, and he overjoyed. So left him, and to the office, where nothing but sad evidences of ruin coming on us for want of money. So home to dinner, which was a very good dinner, my father, brother, wife and I, and then to the office again, where I was all the afternoon till very late, busy, and then home to supper and to bed.
Memorandum. I had taken my Journal during the fire and the disorders following in loose papers until this very day, and could not get time to enter them in my book till January 18, in the morning, having made my eyes sore by frequent attempts this winter to do it. But now it is done, for which I thank God, and pray never the like occasion may happen.
. Up, and after taking leave of my poor father, who is setting out this day for Brampton by the Cambridge coach, he having taken a journey to see the city burned, and to bring my brother to town, I out by water; and so coach to St. James’s, the weather being foul; and there, from Sir W. Coventry, do hear how the House have cut us off £150,000 of our wear and tear, for that which was saved by the King while the fleet lay in harbour in winter. However, he seems pleased, and so am I, that they have abated no more, and do intend to allow of 28,000 men for the next year; and this day have appointed to declare the sum they will give the King,3007 and to propose the way of raising it; so that this is likely to be the great day. This done in his chamber, I with him to Westminster Hall, and there took a few turns, the Hall mighty full of people, and the House likely to be very full today about the money business. Here I met with several people, and do find that people have a mighty mind to have a fling at the Vice-Chamberlain, if they could lay hold of anything, his place being, indeed, too much for such, they think, or any single subject of no greater parts and quality than he, to enjoy. But I hope he may weather all, though it will not be by any dexterity of his, I dare say, if he do stand, but by his fate only, and people’s being taken off by other things. Thence home by coach, mighty dirty weather, and then to the Treasurer’s office and got a ticket paid for my little Michell, and so again by coach to Westminster, and come presently after the House rose. So to the Swan, and there sent for a piece of meat and dined alone and played with Sarah, and so to the Hall a while, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s lodging and did what I would with her. She is very big, and resolves I must be godfather. Thence away by water with Cropp to Deptford. It was almost night before I got thither. So I did only give directions concerning a press that I have making there to hold my turning and joiner’s tooles that were lately given me, which will be very handsome, and so away back again, it being now dark, and so home, and there find my wife come home, and hath brought her new girl I have helped her to, of Mr. Falconbridge’s. She is wretched poor; and but ordinary favoured; and we fain to lay out seven or eight pounds worth of clothes upon her back, which, methinks, do go against my heart; and I do not think I can ever esteem her as I could have done another that had come fine and handsome; and which is more, her voice, for want of use, is so furred, that it do not at present please me; but her manner of singing is such, that I shall, I think, take great pleasure in it. Well, she is come, and I wish us good fortune in her. Here I met with notice of a meeting of the Commissioners for Tangier tomorrow, and so I must have my accounts ready for them, which caused me to confine myself to my chamber presently and set to the making up my accounts, which I find very clear, but with much difficulty by reason of my not doing them sooner, things being out of my mind.
. It cost me till four o’clock in the morning, and, which was pretty to think, I was above an hour, after I had made all right, in casting up of about twenty sums, being dozed with much work, and had for forty times together forgot to carry the 60 which I had in my mind, in one denomination which exceeded 60; and this did confound me for above an hour together. At last all even and done, and so to bed. Up at seven, and so to the office, after looking over my last night’s work. We sat all the morning. At noon by coach with my Lord Brouncker and ’light at the Temple, and so alone I to dinner at a cook’s, and thence to my Lord Bellasses, whom I find kind; but he had drawn some new proposal to deliver to the Lords Commissioners today, wherein one was, that the garrison would not be well paid without some goldsmith’s undertaking the paying of the bills of exchange for Tallies. He professing so much kindness to me, and saying that he would not be concerned in the garrison without me; and that if he continued in the employment, no man should have to do with the money but myself. I did ask his Lordship’s meaning of the proposition in his paper. He told me he had not much considered it, but that he meant no harm to me. I told him I thought it would render me useless; whereupon he did very frankly, after my seeming denials for a good while, cause it to be writ over again, and that clause left out, which did satisfy me abundantly. It being done, he and I together to Whitehall, and there the Duke of York (who is gone over to all his pleasures again, and leaves off care of business, what with his woman, my Lady Denham, and his hunting three times a week) was just come in from hunting. So I stood and saw him dress himself, and try on his vest, which is the King’s new fashion, and will be in it for good and all on Monday next, and the whole Court: it is a fashion, the King says; he will never change. He being ready, he and my Lord Chancellor, and Duke of Albemarle, and Prince Rupert, Lord Bellasses, Sir H. Cholmly, Povy, and myself, met at a Committee for Tangier. My Lord Bellasses’s propositions were read and discoursed of, about reducing the garrison to less charge; and indeed I am mad in love with my Lord Chancellor, for he do comprehend and speak out well, and with the greatest easiness and authority that ever I saw man in my life. I did never observe how much easier a man do speak when he knows all the company to be below him, than in him; for though he spoke, indeed, excellent well, yet his manner and freedom of doing it, as if he played with it, and was informing only all the rest of the company, was mighty pretty. He did call again and again upon Mr. Povy for his accounts. I did think fit to make the solemn tender of my accounts that I intended. I said something that was liked, touching the want of money, and the bad credit of our tallies. My Lord Chancellor moved, that without any trouble to any of the rest of the Lords, I might alone attend the King, when he was with his private Council; and open the state of the garrison’s want of credit; and all that could be done, should. Most things moved were referred to Committees, and so we broke up. And at the end Sir W. Coventry come; so I away with him, and he discoursed with me something of the Parliament’s business. They have voted giving the [King] for next year £1,800,000; which, were it not for his debts, were a great sum. He says, he thinks the House may say no more to us for the present, but that we must mend our manners against the next trial, and mend them we will. But he thinks it not a fit time to be found making of trouble among ourselves, meaning about Sir J. Minnes, who most certainly must be removed, or made a Commissioner, and somebody else Comptroller. But he tells me that the House has a great envy at Sir G. Carteret, and that had he ever thought fit in all his discourse to have touched upon the point of our want of money and badness of payment, it would have been laid hold on to Sir G. Carteret’s hurt; but he hath avoided it, though without much reason for it, most studiously, and in short did end thus, that he has never shown so much of the pigeon3008 in all his life as in his innocence to Sir G. Carteret at this time; which I believe, and will desire Sir G. Carteret to thank him for it. So we broke up and I by coach home, calling for a new pair of shoes, and so, little being to do at the office, did go home, and after spending a little in righting some of my books, which stood out of order, I to bed.
. Lay long in bed, among other things, talking of my wife’s renewing her acquaintance with Mrs. Pierce, which, by my wife’s ill using her when she was here last, hath been interrupted. Herein we were a little angry together, but presently friends again; and so up, and I to church, which was mighty full, and my beauties, Mrs. Lethulier3009 and fair Batelier, both there. A very foul morning, and rained; and sent for my cloake to go out of the church with. So dined, and after dinner (a good discourse thereat to my brother) he and I by water to Whitehall, and he to Westminster Abbey. Here I met with Sir Stephen Fox, who told me how much right I had done myself, and how well it is represented by the Committee to the House, my readiness to give them satisfaction in everything when they were at the office. I was glad of this. He did further discourse of Sir W. Coventry’s great abilities, and how necessary it were that I were of the House to assist him. I did not own it, but do myself think it were not unnecessary if either he should die, or be removed to the Lords, or anything to hinder his doing the like service the next trial, which makes me think that it were not a thing very unfit; but I will not move in it. He and I parted, I to Mrs. Martin’s, thinking to have met Mrs. Burrows, but she was not there, so away and took my brother out of the Abbey and home, and there to set some accounts right, and to the office to even my Journal, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Called up, though a very rainy morning, by Sir H. Cholmley, and he and I most of the morning together evening of accounts, which I was very glad of. Then he and I out to Sir Robt. Viner’s, at the African house3010 (where I had not been since he come thither); but he was not there; but I did some business with his people, and then to Colvill’s, who, I find, lives now in Lyme Street, and with the same credit as ever, this fire having not done them any wrong that I hear of at all. Thence he and I together to Westminster Hall, in our way talking of matters and passages of state, the viciousness of the Court; the contempt the King brings himself into thereby; his minding nothing, but doing all things just as his people about him will have it; the Duke of York becoming a slave to this whore Denham, and wholly minds her; that there really was amours between the Duchess and Sidney;3011 a that there is reason to fear that, as soon as the Parliament have raised this money, the King will see that he hath got all that he can get, and then make up a peace. He tells me, what I wonder at, but that I find it confirmed by Mr. Pierce, whom I met by-and-by in the Hall, that Sir W. Coventry is of the caball with the Duke of York, and Brouncker, with this Denham; which is a shame, and I am sorry for it, and that Sir W. Coventry do make her visits; but yet I hope it is not so. Pierce tells me, that as little agreement as there is between the Prince3012 and Duke of Albemarle, yet they are likely to go to sea again; for the first will not be trusted alone, and nobody will go with him but this Duke of Albemarle. He tells me much how all the commanders of the fleet and officers that are sober men do cry out upon their bad discipline, and the ruin that must follow it if it continue. But that which I wonder most at, it seems their secretaries have been the most exorbitant in their fees to all sorts of the people, that it is not to be believed that they durst do it, so as it is believed they have got £800 apiece by the very vacancies in the fleet. He tells me that Lady Castlemayne is concluded to be with child again; and that all the people about the King do make no scruple of saying that the King do lie with Mrs. Stewart, who, he says, is a most excellent-natured lady. This day the King begins to put on his vest, and I did see several persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers, who are in it; being a long cassocke close to the body, of black cloth, and pinked with white silke under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with black riband like a pigeon’s leg; and, upon the whole, I wish the King may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome garment.3013 Walking with Pierce in the Court of Wards out comes Sir W. Coventry, and he and I talked of business. Among others I proposed the making Sir J. Minnes a Commissioner, and make somebody else Comptroller. He tells me it is the thing he hath been thinking of, and hath spoke to the Duke of York of it. He believes it will be done; but that which I fear is that Penn will be Comptroller, which I shall grudge a little. The Duke of Buckingham called him aside and spoke a good while with him. I did presently fear it might be to discourse something of his design to blemish my Lord of Sandwich, in pursuance of the wild motion he made the other day in the House. Sir W. Coventry, when he come to me again, told me that he had wrought a miracle, which was, the convincing the Duke of Buckingham that something—he did not name what—that he had intended to do was not fit to be done, and that the Duke is gone away of that opinion. This makes me verily believe it was something like what I feared. By and by the House rose, and then we parted, and I with Sir G. Carteret, and walked in the Exchequer Court, discoursing of businesses. Among others, I observing to him how friendly Sir W. Coventry had carried himself to him in these late inquiries, when, if he had borne him any spleen, he could have had what occasion he pleased offered him, he did confess he found the same thing, and would thanke him for it. I did give him some other advices, and so away with him to his lodgings at Whitehall to dinner, where my Lady Carteret is, and mighty kind, both of them, to me. Their son and my Lady Jemimah will be here very speedily. She tells me the ladies are to go into a new fashion shortly, and that is, to wear short coats, above their ankles; which she and I do not like, but conclude this long train to be mighty graceful. But she cries out of the vices of the Court, and how they are going to set up plays already; and how, the next day after the late great fast, the Duchess of York did give the King and Queen a play. Nay, she told me that they have heretofore had plays at Court the very nights before the fast for the death of the late King. She do much cry out upon these things, and that which she believes will undo the whole nation; and I fear so too. After dinner away home, Mr. Brisband along with me as far as the Temple, and there looked upon a new booke, set out by one Rycault,3014 secretary to my Lord Winchelsea, of the policy and customs of the Turks, which is, it seems, much cried up. But I could not stay, but home, where I find Balty come back, and with him some muster-books, which I am glad of, and hope he will do me credit in his employment. By and by took coach again and carried him home, and my wife to her tailor’s, while I to Whitehall to have found out Povy, but miss him and so call in my wife and home again, where at Sir W. Batten’s I met Sir W. Penn, lately come from the fleet at the Nore; and here were many good fellows, among others Sir R. Holmes, who is exceeding kind to me, more than usual, which makes me afeard of him, though I do much wish his friendship. Thereupon, after a little stay, I withdrew, and to the office and awhile, and then home to supper and to my chamber to settle a few papers, and then to bed. This day the great debate was in Parliament, the manner of raising the £1,800,000 they voted [the King] on Friday; and at last, after many proposals, one moved that the Chimney-money might be taken from the King, and an equal revenue of something else might be found for the King, and people be enjoined to buy off this tax of Chimney-money forever at eight years’ purchase, which will raise present money, as they think, £1,600,000, and the State be eased of an ill burden and the King be supplied of something as food or better for his use. The House seems to like this, and put off the debate to tomorrow.
. Up, and to the office, where sat to do little business but hear clamours for money. At noon home to dinner, and to the office again, after hearing my brother play a little upon the Lyra viol, which he do so as to show that he hath a love to music and a spirit for it, which I am well pleased with. All the afternoon at the office, and at night with Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn, [and Sir] J. Minnes, at [Sir] W. Penn’s lodgings, advising about business and orders fit presently to make about discharging of ships come into the river, and which to pay first, and many things in order thereto. But it vexed me that, it being now past seven o’clock, and the businesses of great weight, and I had done them by eight o’clock, and sending them to be signed, they were all gone to bed, and Sir W. Penn, though awake, would not, being in bed, have them brought to him to sign; this made me quite angry. Late at work at the office, and then home to supper and to bed. Not come to any resolution at the Parliament today about the manner of raising this £1,800,000.
. Up, and busy about public and private business all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, alone with my brother, with whom I had now the first private talk I have had, and find he hath preached but twice in his life. I did give him some advice to study pronunciation; but I do fear he will never make a good speaker, nor, I fear, any general good scholar, for I do not see that he minds optics or mathematics of any sort, nor anything else that I can find. I know not what he may be at divinity and ordinary school-learning. However, he seems sober, and that pleases me. After dinner took him and my wife and Barker (for so is our new woman called, and is yet but a sorry girl), and set them down at Unthanke’s, and so to Whitehall, and there find some of my brethren with the Duke of York, but so few I put off the meeting. So stayed and heard the Duke discourse, which he did mighty scurrilously, of the French, and with reason, that they should give Beaufort orders when he was to bring, and did bring, his fleet hither, that his rendezvous for his fleet, and for all slugs to come to, should be between Calais and Dover; which did prove the taking of La Roche[lle], who, among other slugs behind, did, by their instructions, make for that place, to rendezvous with the fleet; and Beaufort, seeing them as he was returning, took them for the English fleet, and wrote word to the King of France that he had passed by the English fleet, and the English fleet durst not meddle with him. The Court is all full of vests, only my Lord St. Albans not pinked but plain black; and they say the King says the pinking upon white makes them look too much like magpies, and therefore hath bespoke one of plain velvet. Thence to St. James’s by coach, and spoke, at four o’clock or five, with Sir W. Coventry, newly come from the House, where they have sat all this day and not come to an end of the debate how the money shall be raised. He tells me that what I proposed to him the other day was what he had himself thought on and determined, and that he believes it will speedily be done—the making Sir J. Minnes a Commissioner, and bringing somebody else to be Comptroller, and that (which do not please me, I confess, for my own particulars, so well as Sir J. Minnes) will, I fear, be Sir W. Penn, for he is the only fit man for it. Away from him and took up my wife, and left her at Temple Bar to buy some lace for a petticoat, and I took coach and away to Sir R. Viner’s about a little business, and then home, and by and by to my chamber, and there late upon making up an account for the Board to pass tomorrow, if I can get them, for the clearing all my imprest3015 bills, which if I can do, will be to my very good satisfaction. Having done this, then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. The waters so high in the roads, by the late rains, that our letters come not in till today, and now I understand that my father is got well home, but had a painful journey of it. At noon with Lord Brouncker to St. Ellen’s,3016 where the master of the late Pope’s Head Tavern is now set up again, and there dined at Sir W. Warren’s cost, a very good dinner. Here my Lord Brouncker proffered to carry me and my wife into a play at Court tonight, and to lend me his coach home, which tempted me much; but I shall not do it. Thence rose from table before dinner ended, and homewards met my wife, and so away by coach towards Lovett’s (in the way wondering at what a good pretty wench our Barker makes, being now put into good clothes, and fashionable, at my charge; but it becomes her, so that I do not now think much of it, and is an example of the power of good clothes and dress), where I stood godfather. But it was pretty, that, being a Protestant, a man stood by and was my Proxy to answer for me. A priest christened it, and the boy’s name is Samuel. The ceremonies many, and some foolish. The priest in a gentleman’s dress, more than my own; but is a Capuchin, one of the Queen-mother’s priests. He did give my proxy and the woman proxy (my Lady Bills,3017 absent, had a proxy also) good advice to bring up the child, and, at the end, that he ought never to marry the child nor the godmother, nor the godmother the child or the godfather: but, which is strange, they say that the mother of the child and the godfather may marry. By and by the Lady Bills come in, a well-bred but crooked woman. The poor people of the house had good wine, and a good cake; and she a pretty woman in her lying-in dress. It cost me near 40s. the whole christening: to midwife 20s., nurse 10s., maid 2s. 6d., and the coach 5s. I was very well satisfied with what I have done, and so home and to the office, and thence to Sir W. Batten’s, and there hear how the business of buying off the Chimney-money is passed in the House; and so the King to be satisfied some other way, and the King supplied with the money raised by this purchasing off of the chimneys. So home, mightily pleased in mind that I have got my bills of imprest cleared by bills signed this day, to my good satisfaction. To supper, and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to my Lord Ashly’s, and thence (he being gone out), to the Exchequer chamber, and there find him and my Lord Bellasses about my Lord Bellasses’ accounts, which was the business I went upon. This was soon ended, and then I with Creed back home to my house, and there he and I did even accounts for salary, and by that time dinner was ready, and merry at dinner, and then abroad to Povy’s, who continues as much confounded in all his business as ever he was; and would have had me paid money, as like a fool as himself, which I troubled him in refusing; but I did persist in it. After a little more discourse, I left them, and to Whitehall, where I met with Sir Robert Viner, who told me a little of what, in going home, I had seen; also a little of the disorder and mutiny among the seamen at the Treasurer’s office, which did trouble me then and all day since, considering how many more seamen will come to town every day, and no money for them. A Parliament sitting, and the Exchange close by, and an enemy to hear of, and laugh at it.3018 Viner too, and Backewell, were sent for this afternoon; and was before the King and his Cabinet about money; they declaring they would advance no more, it being discoursed of in the House of Parliament for the King to issue out his privy-seals to them to command them to trust him, which gives them reason to decline trusting. But more money they are persuaded to lend, but so little that (with horrour I speake it), coming after the Council was up, with Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Coventry, Lord Brouncker, and myself, I did lay the state of our condition before the Duke of York, that the fleet could not go out without several things it wanted, and we could not have without money, particularly rum and bread, which we have promised the man Swan to help him to £200 of his debt, and a few other small sums of £200 a piece to some others, and that I do foresee the Duke of York would call us to an account why the fleet is not abroad, and we cannot answer otherwise than our want of money; and that indeed we do not do the King any service now, but do rather abuse and betray his service by being there, and seeming to do something, while we do not. Sir G. Carteret asked me (just in these words, for in this and all the rest I set down the very words for memory sake, if there should be occasion) whether £50 or £60 would do us any good; and when I told him the very rum man3019 must have £200, he held up his eyes as if we had asked a million. Sir W. Coventry told the Duke of York plainly he did rather desire to have his commission called in than serve in so ill a place, where he cannot do the King service, and I did concur in saying the same. This was all very plain, and the Duke of York did confess that he did not see how we could do anything without a present supply of £20,000, and that he would speak to the King next Council day, and I promised to wait on him to put him in mind of it. This I set down for my future justification, if need be, and so we broke up, and all parted, Sir W. Coventry being not very well, but I believe made much worse by this night’s sad discourse. So I home by coach, considering what the consequence of all this must be in a little time. Nothing but distraction and confusion; which makes me wish with all my heart that I were well and quietly settled with what little I have got at Brampton, where I might live peaceably, and study, and pray for the good of the King and my country. Home, and to Sir W. Batten’s, where I saw my Lady, who is now come downstairs after a great sickness. Sir W. Batten was at the pay today, and tells me how rude the men were, but did go away quietly, being promised pay on Wednesday next. God send us money for it! So to the office, and then to supper and to bed. Among other things proposed in the House today, to give the King in lieu of chimneys, there was the bringing up of sealed paper, such as Sir J. Minnes showed me tonight, at Sir W. Batten’s, is used in Spain, and brings the King a great revenue; but it shows what shifts we are put to too much.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, where none met but myself. So I walked a good while with Mr. Gawden in the garden, who is lately come from the fleet at the buoy of the Nore, and he do tell me how all the sober commanders, and even Sir Thomas Allen himself, do complain of the ill government of the fleet. How Holmes and Jennings have commanded all the fleet this yeare, that nothing is done upon deliberation, but if a sober man give his opinion otherwise than the Prince would have it the Prince would cry, “Damn him, do you follow your orders, and that is enough for you.” He tells me he hears of nothing but of swearing and drinking and whoring, and all manner of profaneness, quite through the whole fleet. He being gone, there comes to me Commissioner Middleton, whom I took on purpose to walk in the garden with me, and to learn what he observed when the fleet was at Portsmouth. He says that the fleet was in such a condition, as to discipline, as if the Devil had commanded it; so much wickedness of all sorts. Enquiring how it come to pass that so many ships miscarried this year, he tells me that he enquired; and the pilots do say, that they dare not do nor go but as the Captains will have them; and if they offer to do otherwise, the Captains swear they will run them through. He says that he heard Captain Digby3020 (my Lord of Bristoll’s son, a young fellow that never was but one year, if that, in the fleet) say that he did hope he should not see a tarpaulin3021 have the command of a ship within this twelve months. He observed while he was on board the Admiral, when the fleet was at Portsmouth, that there was a faction there. Holmes commanded all on the Prince’s side, and Sir Jeremy Smith on the Duke’s, and everybody that come did apply themselves to one side or other; and when the Duke of Albemarle was gone away to come hither, then Sir Jeremy Smith did hang his head, and walked in the General’s ship but like a private commander. He says he was on board The Prince, when the news come of the burning of London; and all the Prince said was, that now Shipton’s prophecy was out;3022 and he heard a young commander presently swear, that now a citizen’s wife that would not take under half a piece before, would be occupied for half-a-crown: and made mighty sport of it. He says that Hubberd3023 that commanded this year the Admiral’s ship is a proud conceited fellow (though I thought otherwise of him), and fit to command a single ship but not a fleet, and he do wonder that there hath not been more mischief this year than there hath. He says the fleet come to anchor between the Horse and the Island, so that when they came to weigh many of the ships could not turn, but run foul of the Horse, and there stuck, but that the weather was good. He says that nothing can do the King more disservice, nor please the standing officers of the ship better than these silly commanders that now we have, for they sign to anything that their officers desire of them, nor have judgment to contradict them if they would. He told me other good things, which made me bless God that we have received no greater disasters this year than we have, though they have been the greatest that ever was known in England before, put all their losses of the King’s ships by want of skill and seamanship together from the beginning. He being gone, comes Sir G. Carteret, and he and I walked together awhile, discoursing upon the sad condition of the times, what need we have, and how impossible it is to get money. He told me my Lord Chancellor the other day did ask him how it come to pass that his friend Pepys do so much magnify all things to worst, as I did on Sunday last, in the bad condition of the fleet. Sir G. Carteret tells me that he answered him, that I was but the mouth of the rest, and spoke what they have dictated to me; which did, as he says, presently take off his displeasure. So that I am well at present with him, but I must have a care not to be over busy in the office again, and burn my fingers. He tells me he wishes he had sold his place at some good rate to somebody or other at the beginning of the war, and that he would do it now, but no body will deal with him for it. He tells me the Duke of Albemarle is very much discontented, and the Duke of York do not, it seems, please him. He tells me that our case as to money is not to be made good at present, and therefore wishes a good and speedy peace before it be too late, and from his discourse methinks I find that there is something moving towards it. Many people at the office, but having no more of the office I did put it off till the next meeting. Thence, with Sir G. Carteret, home to dinner, with him, my Lady and Mr. Ashburnham, the Cofferer. Here they talk that the Queen hath a great mind to alter her fashion, and to have the feet seen, which she loves mightily; and they do believe that it [will] come into it in a little time. Here I met with the King’s declaration3024 about his proceedings with the King of Denmark, and particularly the business of Bergen; but it is so well writ, that, if it be true, the King of Denmark is one of the most absolute wickedness in the world for a person of his quality. After dinner home, and there met Mr. Povy by appointment, and there he and I all the afternoon, till late at night, evening of all accounts between us, which we did to both our satisfaction; but that which troubles me most is, that I am to refund to the ignoble Lord Peterborough what he had given us six months ago, because we did not supply him with money; but it is no great matter. He gone I to the office, and there did some business; and so home, my mind in good ease by having done with Povy in order to the adjusting of all my accounts in a few days. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with my wife to church, and her new woman Barker with her the first time. The girl will, I think, do very well. Here a lazy sermon, and so home to dinner, and took in my Lady Penn and Peg (Sir William being below with the fleet), and mighty merry we were, and then after dinner presently (it being a mighty cool day) I by coach to Whitehall, and there attended the Cabinet, and was called in before the King and them to give an account of our want of money for Tangier, which troubles me that it should be my place so often and so soon after one another to come to speak there of their wants—the thing of the world that they love least to hear of, and that which is no welcome thing to be the solicitor for—and to see how like an image the King sat and could not speak one word when I had delivered myself was very strange; only my Lord Chancellor did ask me, whether I thought it was in nature at this time to help us to anything. So I was referred to another meeting of the Lords Commissioners for Tangier and my Lord Treasurer, and so went away, and by coach home, where I spent the evening in reading Stillingfleet’s defence of the Archbishop,3025 the part about Purgatory, a point I had never considered before, what was said for it or against it, and though I do believe we are in the right, yet I do not see any great matter in this book. So to supper; and my people being gone, most of them, to bed, my boy and Jane and I did get two of my iron chests out of the cellar into my closet, and the money to my great satisfaction to see it there again, and the rather because the damp cellar spoils all my chests. This being done, and I weary, to bed. This afternoon walking with Sir H. Cholmly long in the gallery, he told me, among many other things, how Harry Killigrew3026 is banished the Court lately, for saying that my Lady Castlemayne was a little lecherous girl when she was young. … This she complained to the King of, and he sent to the Duke of York, whose servant he is, to turn him away. The Duke of York hath done it, but takes it ill of my Lady that he was not complained to first. She attended him to execute it, but ill blood is made by it. He told me how Mr. Williamson stood in a little place to have come into the House of Commons, and they would not choose him; they said, “No courtier.”3027 And which is worse, Bab May went down in great state to Winchelsea with the Duke of York’s letters, not doubting to be chosen; and there the people chose a private gentleman in spite of him, and cried out they would have no Court pimp to be their burgess; which are things that bode very ill.3028 This afternoon I went to see and sat a good while with Mrs. Martin, and there was her sister Doll, with whom, contrary to all expectation, I did what I would, and might have done anything else.
. Up, and by coach to Westminster Hall, there thinking to have met Betty Michell, who I heard yesterday stayed all night at her father’s, but she was gone. So I stayed a little and then down to the bridge by water, and there overtook her and her father. So saluted her and walked over London Bridge with them and there parted, the weather being very foul, and so to the Tower by water, and so home, where I find Mr. Caesar playing the treble to my boy upon the Theorbo, the first time I heard him, which pleases me mightily. After dinner I carried him and my wife towards Westminster, by coach, myself ’lighting at the Temple, and there, being a little too soon, walked in the Temple Church, looking with pleasure on the monuments and epitaphs, and then to my Lord Belasses, where Creed and Povy by appointment met to discourse of some of their Tangier accounts between my Lord and Vernatty, who will prove a very knave. That being done I away with Povy to Whitehall, and thence I to Unthanke’s, and there take up my wife, and so home, it being very foule and dark. Being there come, I to the settling of some of my money matters in my chests, and evening some accounts, which I was at late, to my extraordinary content, and especially to see all things hit so even and right and with an apparent profit and advantage since my last accounting, but how much I cannot particularly yet come to adjudge.
. Up, and to the office all the morning. At noon Sir W. Batten told me Sir Richard Ford would accept of one-third of my profit of our private man-of-war, and bear one-third of the charge, and be bound in the Admiralty, so I shall be excused being bound, which I like mightily of, and did draw up a writing, as well as I could, to that purpose and signed and sealed it, and so he and Sir R. Ford are to go to enter into bond this afternoon. Home to dinner, and after dinner, it being late, I down by water to Shadwell, to see Betty Michell, the first time I was ever at their new dwelling since the fire, and there find her in the house all alone. I find her mighty modest. But had her lips as much as I would, and indeed she is mighty pretty, that I love her exceedingly. I paid her £10 1s. that I received upon a ticket for her husband, which is a great kindness I have done them, and having kissed her as much as I would, I away, poor wretch, and down to Deptford to see Sir J. Minnes ordering of the pay of some ships there, which he do most miserably, and so home. Bagwell’s wife, seeing me come the fields way, did get over her pales to come after and talk with me, which she did for a good way, and so parted, and I home, and to the office, very busy, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and down to the Old Swan, and there find little Michell come to his new shop that he hath built there in the room of his house that was burned. I hope he will do good here. I drank and bade him joy, for I love him and his wife well, him for his care, and her for her person, and so to Whitehall, where we attended the Duke; and to all our complaints for want of money, which now we are tired out with making, the Duke only tells us that he is sorry for it, and hath spoke to the King of it, and money we shall have as soon as it can be found; and though all the issue of the war lies upon it, yet that is all the answer we can get, and that is as bad or worse than nothing. Thence to Westminster Hall, where the term is begun, and I did take a turn or two, and so away by coach to Sir R. Viner’s, and there received some money, and then home and to dinner. After dinner to little business, and then abroad with my wife, she to see her brother, who is sick, and she believes is from some discontent his wife hath given him by her loose carriage, which he is told, and he hath found has been very suspicious in his absence, which I am sorry for. I to the Hall and there walked long, among others talking with Mr. Hayes, Prince Rupert’s Secretary, a very ingenious man, and one, I think, fit to contract some friendship with. Here I stayed late, walking to and again, hearing how the Parliament proceeds, which is mighty slowly in the settling of the money business, and great factions growing every day among them. I am told also how Holmes did last Sunday deliver in his articles to the King and Cabinet against [Sir Jeremy] Smith, and that Smith hath given in his answer, and lays his not accompanying the fleet to his pilot, who would not undertake to carry the ship further; which the pilot acknowledges. The thing is not accommodated, but only taken up, and both sides commanded to be quiet; but no peace like to be. The Duke of Albemarle is Smith’s friend, and hath publicly swore that he would never go to sea again unless Holmes’s commission were taken from him.3029 I find by Hayes that they did expect great glory in coming home in so good condition as they did with the fleet, and therefore I the less wonder that the Prince was distasted with my discourse the other day about the bad state of the fleet. But it pleases me to hear that he did expect great thanks, and lays the fault of the want of it upon the fire, which deadened everything, and the glory of his services. About seven at night home, and called my wife, and, it being moonshine, took her into the garden, and there layed open our condition as to our estate, and the danger of my having it [his money] all in the house at once, in case of any disorder or troubles in the State, and therefore resolved to remove part of it to Brampton, and part some whither else, and part in my own house, which is very necessary, and will tend to our safety, though I shall not think it safe out of my own sight. So to the office, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and by water to Whitehall, and there with Sir G. Carteret to Sir W. Coventry, who is come to his winter lodgings at Whitehall, and there agreed upon a method of paying of tickets; and so I back again home and to the office, where we sat all the morning, but to little purpose but to receive clamours for money. At noon home to dinner, where the two Mrs. Daniels come to see us, and dined with us. After dinner I out with my wife to Mrs. Pierce’s, where she hath not been a great while, from some little unkindness3030 of my wife’s to her when she was last here, but she received us with mighty respect and discretion, and was making herself mighty fine to go to a great ball tonight at Court, being the Queen’s birthday; so the ladies for this one day do wear laces, but to put them off again tomorrow. Thence I to my Lord Brouncker’s, and with him to Mrs. Williams’s where we met Knipp. I was glad to see the jade. Made her sing; and she told us they begin at both houses to act on Monday next. But I fear, after all this sorrow, their gains will be but little. Mrs. Williams says, the Duke’s house will now be much the better of the two, because of their women; which I am glad to hear. Thence with Lord Brouncker to Whitehall and there spoke with Sir W. Coventry about some office business, and then I away to Mrs. Pierce’s, and there saw her new closet, which is mighty rich and fine. Her daughter Betty grows mighty pretty. Thence with my wife home and to do business at the office. Then to Sir W. Batten’s, who tells me that the House of Parliament makes mighty little haste in settling the money, and that he knows not when it will be done; but they fall into faction, and libels have been found in the House. Among others, one yesterday, wherein they reckon up divers great sums to be given away by the King, among others, £10,000 to Sir W. Coventry, for weare and teare (the point he stood upon to advance that sum by, for them to give the King); Sir G. Carteret £50,000 for something else, I think supernumeraries; and so to Matt. Wren £5,000 for passing the Canary Company’s patent; and so a great many other sums to other persons. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning and most of the afternoon within doors, beginning to set my accounts in order from before this fire, I being behindhand with them ever since; and this day I got most of my tradesmen to bring in their bills and paid them. Dined at home, and busy again after dinner, and then abroad by water to Westminster Hall, where I walked till the evening, and then out, the first time I ever was abroad with Doll Lane, to the Dog tavern, and there drank with her, a bad face, but good bodied girl. Did nothing but salute and play with her and talk, and thence away by coach, home, and so to do a little more in my accounts, and then to supper and to bed. Nothing done in the House yet as to the finishing of the bill for money, which is a mighty sad thing, all lying at stake for it.
. Up, and there comes to see me my Lord Belasses, which was a great honour. He tells me great news, yet but what I suspected, that Vernatty is fled, and so hath cheated him and twenty more, but most of all, I doubt, Mr. Povy. Thence to talk about public business; he tells me how the two Houses begin to be troublesome; the Lords to have quarrels one with another. My Lord Duke of Buckingham having said to the Lord Chancellor (who is against the passing of the Bill for prohibiting the bringing over of Irish cattle), that whoever was against the Bill, was there led to it by an Irish interest, or an Irish understanding, which is as much as to say he is a foole; this bred heat from my Lord Chancellor, and something he [Buckingham] said did offend my Lord of Ossory3031 (my Lord Duke of Ormond’s son), and they two had hard words, upon which the latter sends a challenge to the former; of which the former complains to the House, and so the business is to be heard on Monday next.3032 Then as to the Commons; some ugly knives, like poignards, to stab people with, about two or three hundred of them were brought in yesterday to the House, found in one of the house’s rubbish that was burned, and said to be the house of a Catholic. This and several letters out of the country, saying how high the Catholics are everywhere and bold in the owning their religion, have made the Commons mad, and they presently voted that the King be desired to put all Catholics out of employment, and other high things; while the business of money hangs in the hedge. So that upon the whole, God knows we are in a sad condition like to be, there being the very beginnings of the late troubles. He gone, I at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Mrs. Pierce and her boy and Knipp, who sings as well, and is the best company in the world, dined with us, and infinite merry. The playhouses begin to play next week. Towards evening I took them out to the New Exchange, and there my wife bought things, and I did give each of them a pair of Jesimy3033 plain gloves, and another of white. Here Knipp and I walked up and down to see handsome faces, and did see several. Then carried each of them home, and with great pleasure and content, home myself, where, having writ several letters, I home, and there, upon some serious discourse between my wife and I upon the business, I called to us my brother, and there broke to him our design to send him into the country with some part of our money, and so did seriously discourse the whole thing, and then away to supper and to bed. I pray God give a blessing to our resolution, for I do much fear we shall meet with speedy distractions for want of money.
. Up, and to church with my wife, and then home, and there is come little Michell and his wife, I sent for them, and also comes Captain Guy to dine with me, and he and I much talk together. He cries out of the discipline of the fleet, and confesses really that the true English valour we talk of is almost spent and worn out; few of the commanders doing what they should do, and he much fears we shall therefore be beaten the next year. He assures me we were beaten home the last June fight, and that the whole fleet was ashamed to hear of our bonefires. He commends Smith, and cries out of Holmes for an idle, proud, conceited, though stout fellow. He tells me we are to owe the losse of so many ships on the sands, not to any fault of the pilots, but to the weather; but in this I have good authority to fear there was something more. He says the Dutch do fight in very good order, and we in none at all. He says that in the July fight, both the Prince and Holmes had their belly-fulls, and were fain to go aside; though, if the wind had continued, we had utterly beaten them. He do confess the whole to be governed by a company of fools, and fears our ruin. After dinner he gone, I with my brother to Whitehall and he to Westminster Abbey. I presently to Mrs. Martin’s, and there met widow Burroughes and Doll, and did tumble them all the afternoon as I pleased, and having given them a bottle of wine I parted and home by boat (my brother going by land), and thence with my wife to sit and sup with my uncle and aunt Wight, and see Woolly’s wife, who is a pretty woman, and after supper, being very merry, in abusing my aunt with Dr. Venner, we home, and I to do something in my accounts, and so to bed. The Revenge having her forecastle blown up with powder to the killing of some men in the River, and the Diamond’s being overset in the careening at Sheerness,3034 are further marks of the method all the King’s work is now done in. The Foresight also and another come to disasters in the same place this week in the cleaning; which is strange.
. Up, and to the office to do business, and thither comes to me Sir Thomas Teddiman, and he and I walked a good while in the garden together, discoursing of the disorder and discipline of the fleet, wherein he told me how bad everything is; but was very wary in speaking anything to the dishonour of the Prince or Duke of Albemarle, but do magnify my Lord Sandwich much before them both, for ability to serve the King, and do heartily wish for him here. For he fears that we shall be undone the next year, but that he will, however, see an end of it. To prevent the necessity of his dining with me I was forced to pretend occasion of going to Westminster, so away I went, and Mr. Barber, the clerk, having a request to make to me to get him into employment, did walk along with me, and by water to Westminster with me, he professing great love to me, and an able clerk he is. When I come thither I find the new Lord Mayor Bolton3035 a-swearing at the Exchequer, with some of the Aldermen and Livery; but, Lord! to see how meanely they now look, who upon this day used to be all little lords, is a sad sight and worthy consideration. And everybody did reflect with pity upon the poor City, to which they are now coming to choose and swear their Lord Mayor, compared with what it heretofore was. Thence by coach (having in the Hall bought me a velvet riding cap, cost me 20s.) to my tailor’s, and there bespoke a plain vest, and so to my goldsmith to bid him look out for some gold for me; and he tells me that ginnys, which I bought 2,000 of not long ago, and cost me but 18½d. change, will now cost me 22d.; and but very few to be had at any price. However, some more I will have, for they are very convenient, and of easy disposal. So home to dinner and to discourse with my brother upon his translation of my Lord Bacon’s Faber Fortunæ, which I gave him to do and he has done it, but meanely; I am not pleased with it at all, having done it only literally, but without any life at all. About five o’clock I took my wife (who is mighty fine, and with a new fair pair of locks, which vex me, though like a foole I helped her the other night to buy them), and to Mrs. Pierce’s, and there staying a little I away before to Whitehall, and into the new playhouse3036 there, the first time I ever was there, and the first play I have seen since before the great plague. By and by Mr. Pierce comes, bringing my wife and his, and Knipp. By and by the King and Queen, Duke and Duchess, and all the great ladies of the Court; which, indeed, was a fine sight. But the play being Love in a Tub,3037 a silly play, and though done by the Duke’s people, yet having neither Betterton nor his wife,3038 and the whole thing done ill, and being ill also, I had no manner of pleasure in the play. Besides, the House, though very fine, yet bad for the voice, for hearing. The sight of the ladies, indeed, was exceeding noble; and above all, my Lady Castlemayne. The play done by ten o’clock. I carried them all home, and then home myself, and well satisfied with the sight, but not the play, we with great content to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, where late, very busy, and dispatching much business. Mr. Hater staying most of the afternoon abroad, he come to me, poor man, to make excuse, and it was that he had been looking out for a little house for his family. His wife being much frightened in the country with the discourses of troubles and disorders like to be, and therefore durst not be from him, and therefore he is forced to bring her to town that they may be together. This is now the general apprehension of all people; particulars I do not know, but my own fears are also great, and I do think it time to look out to save something, if a storm should come. At night home to supper, and singing with my wife, who hath lately begun to learn, and I think will come to do something, though her ear is not good, nor I, I confess, have patience enough to teach her, or hear her sing now and then a note out of tune, and am to blame that I cannot bear with that in her which is fit I should do with her as a learner, and one that I desire much could sing, and so should encourage her. This I was troubled at, for I do find that I do put her out of heart, and make her fearful to sing before me. So after supper to bed.
. Out with Sir W. Batten toward Whitehall, being in pain in my cods by being squeezed the other night in a little coach when I carried Pierce and his wife and my people. But I hope I shall be soon well again. This day is a great day at the House, so little to do with the Duke of York, but soon parted. Coming out of the Court I met Colonel Atkins, who tells me the whole city rings today of Sir Jeremy Smith’s killing of Holmes in a duell, at which I was not much displeased, for I fear every day more and more mischief from the man, if he lives; but the thing is not true, for in my coach I did by and by meet Sir Jer. Smith going to Court. So I by coach to my goldsmith, there to see what gold I can get, which is but little, and not under 22d. So away home to dinner, and after dinner to my closet, where I spent the whole afternoon till late at evening of all my accounts public and private, and to my great satisfaction I do find that I do bring my accounts to a very near balance, notwithstanding all the hurries and troubles I have been put to by the late fire, that I have not been able to even my accounts since July last before; and I bless God I do find that I am worth more than ever I yet was, which is £6,200, for which the Holy Name of God be praised! and my other accounts of Tangier in a very plain and clear condition, that I am not liable to any trouble from them; but in fear great I am, and I perceive the whole city is, of some distractions and disorders among us, which God of his goodness prevent! Late to supper with my wife and brother, and then to bed. And thus ends the month with an ill aspect, the business of the Navy standing wholly still. No credit, no goods sold us, nobody will trust. All we have to do at the office is to hear complaints for want of money. The Duke of York himself for now three weeks seems to rest satisfied that we can do nothing without money, and that all must stand still till the King gets money, which the Parliament have been a great while about; but are so dissatisfied with the King’s management, and his giving himself up to pleasures, and not minding the calling to account any of his officers, and they observe so much the expense of the war, and yet that after we have made it the most we can, it do not amount to what they have given the King for the warn that they are backward of giving any more. However, £1,800,000 they have voted, but the way of gathering it has taken up more time than is fit to be now lost: The seamen grow very rude, and everything out of order; commanders having no power over their seamen, but the seamen do what they please. Few stay on board, but all coming running up hither to town, and nobody can with justice blame them, we owing them so much money; and their families must starve if we do not give them money, or they procure upon their tickets from some people that will trust them. A great folly is observed by all people in the King’s giving leave to so many merchantmen to go abroad this winter, and some upon voyages where it is impossible they should be back again by the spring, and the rest will be doubtful, but yet we let them go; what the reason of State is nobody can tell, but all condemn it. The Prince and Duke of Albemarle have got no great credit by this year’s service. Our losses both of reputation and ships having been greater than is thought have ever been suffered in all ages put together before; being beat home, and fleeing home the first fight, and then losing so many ships then and since upon the sands, and some falling into the enemy’s hands, and not one taken this yeare, but the Ruby, French prize, now at the end of the yeare, by the Frenchmen’s mistake in running upon us. Great folly in both Houses of Parliament, several persons falling together by the ears, among others in the House of Lords, the Duke of Buckingham and my Lord Ossory.3039 Such is our case, that everybody fears an invasion the next yeare; and for my part, I do methinks foresee great unhappiness coming upon us, and do provide for it by laying by something against a rainy day, dividing what I have, and laying it in several places, but with all faithfulness to the King in all respects; my grief only being that the King do not look after his business himself, and thereby will be undone both himself and his nation, it being not yet, I believe, too late if he would apply himself to it, to save all, and conquer the Dutch; but while he and the Duke of York mind their pleasure, as they do and nothing else, we must be beaten. So late with my mind in good condition of quiet after the settling all my accounts, and to bed.
November 1666
. Up, and was presented by Burton, one of our smith’s wives, with a very noble cake, which I presently resolved to have my wife go with today, and some wine, and house-warme my Betty Michell, which she readily resolved to do. So I to the office and sat all the morning, where little to do but answer people about want of money; so that there is little service done the King by us, and great disquiet to ourselves; I am sure there is to me very much, for I do not enjoy myself as I would and should do in my employment if my pains could do the King better service, and with the peace that we used to do it. At noon to dinner, and from dinner my wife and my brother, and W. Hewer and Barker away to Betty Michell’s, to Shadwell, and I to my office, where I took in Mrs. Bagwell and did what I would with her, and so she went away, and I all the afternoon till almost night there, and then, my wife being come back, I took her and set her at her brother’s, who is very sicke, and I to Whitehall, and there all alone a pretty while with Sir W. Coventry at his chamber. I find him very melancholy under the same considerations of the King’s service that I am. He confesses with me he expects all will be undone, and all ruined; he complains and sees perfectly what I with grief do, and said it first himself to me that all discipline is lost in the fleet, no order nor no command, and concurs with me that it is necessary we do again and again represent all things more and more plainly to the Duke of York, for a guard to ourselves hereafter when things shall come to be worse. He says the House goes on slowly in finding of money, and that the discontented party do say they have not done with us, for they will have a further bout with us as to our accounts, and they are exceedingly well instructed where to hit us. I left him with a thousand sad reflections upon the times, and the state of the King’s matters, and so away, and took up my wife and home, where a little at the office, and then home to supper, and talk with my wife (with whom I have much comfort) and my brother, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and with Sir W. Batten to Woolwich, where first we went on board the Ruby,3040 French prize, the only ship of war we have taken from any of our enemies this year. It seems a very good ship, but with galleries quite round the sterne to walk in as a balcone, which will be taken down. She had also about forty good brass guns, but will make little amends to our loss in The Prince. Thence to the Ropeyarde and the other yards to do several businesses, he and I also did buy some apples and pork; by the same token the butcher commended it as the best in England for clothe and colour. And for his beef, says he, “Look how fat it is; the lean appears only here and there a speck, like beauty-spots.” Having done at Woolwich, we to Deptford (it being very cold upon the water), and there did also a little more business, and so home, I reading all the way to make end of the Bondman (which the oftener I read the more I like), and begun The Duchess of Malfy,3041 which seems a good play. At home to dinner, and there come Mr. Pierce, surgeon, to see me, and after I had eat something, he and I and my wife by coach to Westminster, she set us down at Whitehall, and she to her brother’s. I up into the House, and among other things walked a good while with the Serjeant Trumpet,3042 who tells me, as I wished, that the King’s Italian here is about setting three parts for trumpets, and shall teach some to sound them, and believes they will be admirable music. I also walked with Sir Stephen Fox an houre, and good discourse of public business with him, who seems very much satisfied with my discourse, and desired more of my acquaintance. Then comes out the King and Duke of York from the Council, and so I spoke awhile to Sir W. Coventry about some office business, and so called my wife (her brother being now a little better than he was), and so home, and I to my chamber to do some business, and then to supper and to bed.
. This morning comes Mr. Lovett, and brings me my print of the Passion, varnished by him, and the frame black, which indeed is very fine, though not so fine as I expected; however, pleases me exceedingly. This, and the sheets of paper he prepared for me, come to £3, which I did give him, and though it be more than is fit to lay out on pleasure, yet, it being ingenious, I did not think much of it. He gone, I to the office, where all the morning to little purpose, nothing being before us but clamours for money: So at noon home to dinner, and after dinner to hang up my new varnished picture and set my chamber in order to be made clean, and then to the office again, and there all the afternoon till late at night, and so to supper and to bed.
. Comes my tailor’s man in the morning, and brings my vest home, and coat to wear with it, and belt, and silver-hilted sword. So I rose and dressed myself, and I like myself mightily in it, and so do my wife.3043 Then, being dressed, to church; and after church pulled my Lady Penn and Mrs. Markham into my house to dinner, and Sir J. Minnes he got Mrs. Pegg along with him. I had a good dinner for them, and very merry; and after dinner to the waterside, and so, it being very cold, to Whitehall, and was mighty fearful of an ague, my vest being new and thin, and the coat cut not to meet before upon my breast. Here I waited in the gallery till the Council was up, and among others did speak with Mr. Cooling, my Lord Chamberlain’s secretary, who tells me my Lord General is become mighty low in all people’s opinion, and that he hath received several slurs from the King and Duke of York. The people at Court do see the difference between his and the Prince’s management, and my Lord Sandwich’s. That this business which he is put upon of crying out against the Catholics and turning them out of all employment, will undo him, when he comes to turnout the officers out of the Army, and this is a thing of his own seeking. That he is grown a drunken sot, and drinks with nobody but Troutbecke, whom nobody else will keep company with. Of whom he told me this story: That once the Duke of Albemarle in his drink taking notice as of a wonder that Nan Hide should ever come to be Duchess of York, “Nay,” says Troutbecke, “ne’er wonder at that; for if you will give me another bottle of wine, I will tell you as great, if not greater, a miracle.” And what was that, but that our dirty Besse (meaning his Duchess) should come to be Duchess of Albemarle? Here we parted, and so by and by the Council rose, and out comes Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry, and they and my Lord Brouncker and I went to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings, there to discourse about some money demanded by Sir W. Warren, and having done that broke up. And Sir G. Carteret and I alone together a while, where he shows a long letter, all in cipher, from my Lord Sandwich to him. The contents he hath not yet found out, but he tells me that my Lord is not sent for home, as several people have enquired after of me. He spoke something reflecting upon me in the business of pursers, that their present bad behaviour is what he did foresee, and had convinced me of, and yet when it come last year to be argued before the Duke of York I turned and said as the rest did. I answered nothing to it, but let it go, and so to other discourse of the ill state of things, of which all people are full of sorrow and observation, and so parted, and then by water, landing in Southwarke, home to the Tower, and so home, and there began to read Potter’s Discourse Upon 666,3044 which pleases me mightily, and then broke off and to supper and to bed.
. Lay long; then up, and to the office, where vexed to meet with people come from the fleet at the Nore, where so many ships are laid up and few going abroad, and yet Sir Thomas Allen hath sent up some Lieutenants with warrants to press men for a few ships to go out this winter, while every day thousands appear here, to our great trouble and affright, before our office and the ticket office, and no Captains able to command one-man aboard. Thence by water to Westminster, and there at the Swan find Sarah is married to a shoemaker yesterday, so I could not see her, but I believe I shall hereafter at good leisure. Thence by coach to my Lady Peterborough,3045 and there spoke with my Lady, who had sent to speak with me. She makes mighty moan of the badness of the times, and her family as to money. My Lord’s passionateness for want thereof, and his want of coming in of rents, and no wages from the Duke of York. No money to be had there for wages nor disbursements, and therefore prays my assistance about his pension. I was moved with her story, which she largely and handsomely told me, and promised I would try what I could do in a few days, and so took leave, being willing to keep her Lord fair with me, both for his respect to my Lord Sandwich and for my own sake hereafter, when I come to pass my accounts. Thence to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined, and mightily made of, having not, to my shame, been there in 8 months before. Here my Lord and Sir Thomas Crew, Mr. John, and Dr. Crew,3046 and two strangers. The best family in the world for goodness and sobriety. Here beyond my expectation I met my Lord Hinchingbroke, who is come to town two days since from Hinchingbroke, and brought his sister and brother Carteret with him, who are at Sir G. Carteret’s. After dinner I and Sir Thomas Crew went aside to discourse of public matters, and do find by him that all the country gentlemen are publicly jealous of the courtiers in the Parliament, and that they do doubt everything that they propose; and that the true reason why the country gentlemen are for a land-tax and against a general excise, is, because they are fearful that if the latter be granted they shall never get it down again; whereas the land-tax will be but for so much; and when the war ceases, there will be no ground got by the Court to keep it up. He do much cry out upon our accounts, and that all that they have had from the King hath been but estimates both from my Lord Treasurer and us, and from all people else, so that the Parliament is weary of it. He says the House would be very glad to get something against Sir G. Carteret, and will not let their inquiries die till they have got something. He do, from what he hath heard at the Committee for examining the burning of the City, conclude it as a thing certain that it was done by plots;3047 it being proved by many witnesses that endeavours were made in several places to increase the fire, and that both in City and country it was bragged by several Papists that upon such a day or in such a time we should find the hottest weather that ever was in England, and words of plainer sense. But my Lord Crew was discoursing at table how the judges have determined in the case whether the landlords or the tenants (who are, in their leases, all of them generally tied to maintain and uphold their houses) shall bear the losse of the fire; and they say that tenants should against all casualties of fire beginning either in their own or in their neighbour’s; but, where it is done by an enemy, they are not to do it. And this was by an enemy, there having been one convicted and hanged upon this very score. This is an excellent salvo for the tenants, and for which I am glad, because of my father’s house. After dinner and this discourse I took coach, and at the same time find my Lord Hinchingbroke and Mr. John Crew and the Doctor going out to see the ruins of the City; so I took the Doctor into my hackney coach (and he is a very fine sober gentleman), and so through the City. But, Lord! what pretty and sober observations he made of the City and its desolation; till anon we come to my house, and there I took them upon Tower Hill to show them what houses were pulled down there since the fire; and then to my house, where I treated them with good wine of several sorts, and they took it mighty respectfully, and a fine company of gentlemen they are; but above all I was glad to see my Lord Hinchingbroke drink no wine at all. Here I got them to appoint Wednesday come sennight to dine here at my house, and so we broke up and all took coach again, and I carried the Doctor to Chancery Lane, and thence I to Whitehall, where I stayed walking up and down till night, and then got almost into the play house, having much mind to go and see the play at Court this night; but fearing how I should get home, because of the bonfires and the lateness of the night to get a coach, I did not stay; but having this evening seen my Lady Jemimah, who is come to town, and looks very well and fat, and heard how Mr. John Pickering is to be married this week, and to a fortune with £5,000, and seen a rich necklace of pearle and two pendants of diamonds, which Sir G. Carteret hath presented her with since her coming to town, I home by coach, but met not one bonfire through the whole town in going round by the wall, which is strange, and speaks the melancholy disposition of the City at present, while never more was said of, and feared of, and done against the Papists than just at this time. Home, and there find my wife and her people at cards, and I to my chamber, and there late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner down alone by water to Deptford, reading Duchess of Malfy, the play, which is pretty good, and there did some business, and so up again, and all the evening at the office. At night home, and there find Mr. Batelier, who supped with us, and good company he is, and so after supper to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, where we attended as usual the Duke of York and there was by the folly of Sir W. Batten prevented in obtaining a bargain for Captain Cocke, which would, I think have [been] at this time (during our great want of hemp), both profitable to the King and of good convenience to me; but I matter it not, it being done only by the folly, not any design, of Sir W. Batten’s. Thence to Westminster Hall, and, it being fast day, there was no shops open, but meeting with Doll Lane, did go with her to the Rose Tavern, and there drank and played with her a good while. She went away, and I stayed a good while after, and was seen going out by one of our neighbours near the office and two of the Hall people that I had no mind to have been seen by, but there was no hurt in it nor can be alleged from it. Therefore I am not solicitous in it, but took coach and called at Faythorne’s, to buy some prints for my wife to draw by this winter, and here did see my Lady Castlemayne’s picture, done by him from Lilly’s, in red chalke and other colours, by which he hath cut it in copper to be printed. The picture in chalke is the finest thing I ever saw in my life, I think; and did desire to buy it; but he says he must keep it awhile to correct his copperplate3048 by, and when that is done he will sell it me. Thence home and find my wife gone out with my brother to see her brother. I to dinner and thence to my chamber to read, and so to the office (it being a fast day and so a holiday), and then to Mrs. Turner’s, at her request to speake and advise about Sir Thomas Harvy’s coming to lodge there, which I think must be submitted to, and better now than hereafter, when he gets more ground, for I perceive he intends to stay by it, and begins to crow mightily upon his late being at the payment of tickets; but a coxcombe he is and will never be better in the business of the Navy. Thence home, and there find Mr. Batelier come to bring my wife a very fine puppy of his mother’s spaniel, a very fine one indeed, which my wife is mighty proud of. He stayed and supped with us, and they to cards. I to my chamber to do some business, and then out to them to play and were a little merry, and then to bed. By the Duke of York his discourse today in his chamber, they have it at Court, as well as we here, that a fatal day is to be expected shortly, of some great mischiefe to the remainder of this day; whether by the Papists, or what, they are not certain. But the day is disputed; some say next Friday, others a day sooner, others later, and I hope all will prove a foolery. But it is observable how everybody’s fears are busy at this time.
. Up, and before I went to the office I spoke with Mr. Martin for his advice about my proceeding in the business of the private man-of-war, he having heretofore served in one of them, and now I have it in my thoughts to send him purser in ours. After this discourse I to the office, where I sat all the morning, Sir W. Coventry with us, where he hath not been a great while, Sir W. Penn also, newly come from the Nore, where he hath been some time fitting of the ships out. At noon home to dinner and then to the office awhile, and so home for my sword, and there find Mercer come to see her mistress. I was glad to see her there, and my wife mighty kind also, and for my part, much vexed that the jade is not with us still. Left them together, designing to go abroad tomorrow night to Mrs. Pierce’s to dance; and so I to Westminster Hall, and there met Mr. Grey, who tells me the House is sitting still (and now it was six o’clock), and likely to sit till midnight; and have proceeded fair to give the King his supply presently; and herein have done more today than was hoped for. So to Whitehall to Sir W. Coventry, and there would fain have carried Captain Cocke’s business for his bargain of hemp, but am defeated and disappointed, and know hardly how to carry myself in it between my interest and desire not to offend Sir W. Coventry. Sir W. Coventry did this night tell me how the business is about Sir J. Minnes; that he is to be a Commissioner, and my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn are to be Controller jointly, which I am very glad of, and better than if they were either of them alone; and do hope truly that the King’s business will be better done thereby, and infinitely better than now it is. Thence by coach home, full of thoughts of the consequence of this alteration in our office, and I think no evil to me. So at my office late, and then home to supper and to bed. Mr. Grey did assure me this night, that he was told this day, by one of the greater Ministers of State in England, and one of the King’s Cabinet, that we had little left to agree on between the Dutch and us towards a peace, but only the place of treaty; which do astonish me to hear, but I am glad of it, for I fear the consequence of the war. But he says that the King, having all the money he is like to have, we shall be sure of a peace in a little time.
. Up and to the office, where did a good deal of business, and then at noon to the Exchange and to my little goldsmith’s, whose wife3049 is very pretty and modest, that ever I saw any. Upon the ’Change, where I seldom have of late been, I find all people mightily at a losse what to expect, but confusion and fears in every man’s head and heart. Whether war or peace, all fear the event will be bad. Thence home and with my brother to dinner, my wife being dressing herself against night; after dinner I to my closet all the afternoon, till the porter brought my vest back from the tailor’s, and then to dress myself very fine, about 4 or 5 o’clock, and by that time comes Mr. Batelier and Mercer, and away by coach to Mrs. Pierce’s, by appointment, where we find good company: a fair lady, my Lady Prettyman,3050 Mrs. Corbet,3051 Knipp; and for men, Captain Downing, Mr. Lloyd, Sir W. Coventry’s clerk, and one Mr. Tripp, who dances well. After some trifling discourse, we to dancing, and very good sport, and mightily pleased I was with the company. After our first bout of dancing, Knipp and I to sing, and Mercer and Captain Downing (who loves and understands music) would by all means have my song of “Beauty, retire” which Knipp had spread abroad; and he extols it above anything he ever heard, and, without flattery, I know it is good in its kind. This being done and going to dance again, comes news that Whitehall was on fire; and presently more particulars, that the Horse-guard was on fire;3052 and so we run up to the garret, and find it so; a horrid great fire; and by and by we saw and heard part of it blown up with powder. The ladies begun presently to be afeard: one fell into fits. The whole town in an alarme. Drums beat and trumpets, and the guards everywhere spread, running up and down in the street. And I begun to have mighty apprehensions how things might be at home, and so was in mighty pain to get home, and that that increased all is that we are in expectation, from common fame, this night, or tomorrow, to have a massacre, by the having so many fires one after another, as that in the City, and at same time begun in Westminster, by the Palace, but put out; and since in Southwarke, to the burning down some houses; and now this do make all people conclude there is something extraordinary in it; but nobody knows what. By and by comes news that the fire has slackened; so then we were a little cheered up again, and to supper, and pretty merry. But, above all, there comes in the dumb boy that I knew in Oliver’s time, who is mightily acquainted here, and with Downing; and he made strange signs of the fire, and how the King was abroad, and many things they understood, but I could not, which I wondering at, and discoursing with Downing about it, “Why,” says he, “it is only a little use, and you will understand him, and make him understand you with as much ease as may be.” So I prayed him to tell him that I was afeard that my coach would be gone, and that he should go down and steal one of the seats out of the coach and keep it, and that would make the coachman to stay. He did this, so that the dumb boy did go down, and, like a cunning rogue, went into the coach, pretending to sleep; and, by and by, fell to his work, but finds the seats nailed to the coach. So he did all he could, but could not do it; however, stayed there, and stayed the coach till the coachman’s patience was quite spent, and beat the dumb boy by force, and so went away. So the dumb boy come up and told him all the story, which they below did see all that passed, and knew it to be true. After supper, another dance or two, and then news that the fire is as great as ever, which put us all to our wit’s-end; and I mightily [anxious] to go home, but the coach being gone, and it being about ten at night, and rainy dirty weather, I knew not what to do; but to walk out with Mr. Batelier, myself resolving to go home on foot, and leave the women there. And so did; but at the Savoy got a coach, and come back and took up the women; and so, having, by people come from the fire, understood that the fire was overcome, and all well, we merrily parted, and home. Stopped by several guards and constables quite through the town, round the wall, as we went, all being in armes. We got well home. … Being come home, we to cards, till two in the morning, and drinking lamb’s-wool.3053 So to bed.
. Up and to the office, where Sir W. Coventry come to tell us that the Parliament did fall foul of our accounts again yesterday; and we must arme to have them examined, which I am sorry for: it will bring great trouble to me, and shame upon the office. My head full this morning how to carry on Captain Cocke’s bargain of hemp, which I think I shall by my dexterity do, and to the King’s advantage as well as my own. At noon with my Lord Brouncker and Sir Thomas Harvy, to Cocke’s house, and there Mrs. Williams and other company, and an excellent dinner. Mr. Temple’s wife,3054 after dinner, fell to play on the harpsicon, till she tired everybody, that I left the house without taking leave, and no creature left standing by her to hear her. Thence I home and to the office, where late doing of business, and then home. Read an hour, to make an end of Potter’s Discourse of the Number 666, which I like all along, but his close is most excellent; and, whether it be right or wrong, is mighty ingenious. Then to supper and to bed. This is the fatal day that everybody hath discoursed for a long time to be the day that the Papists, or I know not who, had designed to commit a massacre upon;3055 but, however, I trust in God we shall rise tomorrow morning as well as ever. This afternoon Creed comes to me, and by him, as, also my Lady Penn, I hear that my Lady Denham is exceeding sick, even to death, and that she says, and everybody else discourses, that she is poisoned; and Creed tells me, that it is said that there hath been a design to poison the King. What the meaning of all these sad signs is, the Lord knows; but every day things look worse and worse. God fit us for the worst!
. Up, and to church, myself and wife, where the old dunce Meriton,3056 brother to the known Meriton, of St. Martin’s, Westminster, did make a very good sermon, beyond my expectation. Home to dinner, and we carried in Pegg Penn, and there also come to us little Michell and his wife, and dined very pleasantly. Anon to church, my wife and I and Betty Michell, her husband being gone to Westminster. … After church home, and I to my chamber, and there did finish the putting time to my song of “It is decreed,” and do please myself at last and think it will be thought a good song. By and by little Michell comes and takes away his wife home, and my wife and brother and I to my uncle Wight’s, where my aunt is grown so ugly and their entertainment so bad that I am in pain to be there; nor will go thither again a good while, if sent for, for we were sent for tonight, we had not gone else. Wooly’s wife, a silly woman, and not very handsome, but no spirit in her at all; and their discourse mean, and the fear of the troubles of the times hath made them not to bring their plate to town, since it was carried out upon the business of the fire, so that they drink in earth and a wooden can, which I do not like. So home, and my people to bed. I late to finish my song, and then to bed also, and the business of the firing of the city, and the fears we have of new troubles and violences, and the fear of fire among ourselves, did keep me awake a good while, considering the sad condition I and my family should be in. So at last to sleep.
. Lay long in bed, and then up, and Mr. Carcasse brought me near 500 tickets to sign, which I did, and by discourse find him a cunning, confident, shrewd man, but one that I do doubt hath by his discourse of the ill will he hath got with my Lord Marquess of Dorchester (with whom he lived), he hath had cunning practices in his time, and would not now spare to use the same to his profit. That done I to the office; whither by and by comes Creed to me, and he and I walked in the garden a little, talking of the present ill condition of things, which is the common subject of all men’s discourse and fears nowadays, and particularly of my Lady Denham,3057 whom everybody says is poisoned, and he tells me she hath said it to the Duke of York; but is upon the mending hand, though the town says she is dead this morning. He and I to the ’Change. There I had several little errands, and going to Sir R. Viner’s, I did get such a splash and spots of dirt upon my new vest, that I was out of countenance to be seen in the street. This day I received 450 pieces of gold more of Mr. Stokes, but cost me 22½d. change; but I am well contented with it—I having now near £2,800 in gold, and will not rest till I get full £3,000, and then will venture my fortune for the saving that and the rest. Home to dinner, though Sir R. Viner would have stayed us to dine with him, he being sheriffe; but, poor man, was so out of countenance that he had no wine ready to drink to us, his butler being out of the way, though we know him to be a very liberal man. And after dinner I took my wife out, intending to have gone and have seen my Lady Jemimah, at Whitehall, but so great a stop there was at the New Exchange, that we could not pass in half an houre, and therefore ’light and bought a little matter at the Exchange, and then home, and then at the office awhile, and then home to my chamber, and after my wife and all the maids abed but Jane, whom I put confidence in—she and I, and my brother, and Tom, and W. Hewer, did bring up all the remainder of my money, and my plate-chest, out of the cellar, and placed the money in my study, with the rest, and the plate in my dressing-room; but indeed I am in great pain to think how to dispose of my money, it being wholly unsafe to keep it all in coin in one place. But now I have it all at my hand, I shall remember it better to think of disposing of it. This done, by one in the morning to bed. This afternoon going towards Westminster, Creed and I did stop, the Duke of York being just going away from seeing of it, at Paul’s, and in the Convocation House Yard3058 did there see the body of Robert Braybrooke, Bishop of London, that died 1404. He fell down in his tomb out of the great church into St. Fayth’s this late fire, and is here seen his skeleton with the flesh on; but all tough and dry like a spongy dry leather, or touchwood all upon his bones. His head turned aside. A great man in his time, and Lord Chancellor; and his skeletons now exposed to be handled and derided by some, though admired for its duration by others. Many flocking to see it.
. At the office all the morning, at noon home to dinner, and out to Bishopsgate Street, and there bought some drinking-glasses, a case of knives, and other things, against tomorrow, in expectation of my Lord Hinchingbroke’s coming to dine with me. So home, and having set some things in the way of doing, also against tomorrow, I to my office, there to dispatch business, and do here receive notice from my Lord Hinchingbroke that he is not well, and so not in condition to come to dine with me tomorrow, which I am not in much trouble for, because of the disorder my house is in, by the bricklayers coming to mend the chimney in my dining room for smoking, which they were upon almost till midnight, and have now made it very pretty, and do carry smoke exceeding well. This evening come all the Houblons to me, to invite me to sup with them tomorrow night. I did take them home, and there we sat and talked a good while, and a glass of wine, and then parted till tomorrow night. So at night, well satisfied in the alteration of my chimney, to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and thence to Westminster, where I bought several things, as a hone, ribbon, gloves, books, and then took coach and to Knipp’s lodging, whom I find not ready to go home with me. So I away to do a little business, among others to call upon Mr. Osborne for my Tangier warrant for the last quarter, and so to the Exchange for some things for my wife, and then to Knipp’s again, and there stayed reading of Waller’s verses, while she finished dressing, her husband being by. I had no other pastime. Her lodging very mean, and the condition she lives in; yet makes a show without doors, God bless us! I carried him along with us into the City, and set him down in Bishopsgate Street, and then home with her. She tells me how Smith,3059 of the Duke’s house, hath killed a man upon a quarrel in play; which makes everybody sorry, he being a good actor, and, they say, a good man, however this happens. The ladies of the Court do much bemoan him, she says. Here she and we alone at dinner to some good victuals, that we could not put off, that was intended for the great dinner of my Lord Hinchingbroke’s, if he had come. After dinner I to teach her my new recitative of “It is decreed,” of which she learnt a good part, and I do well like it and believe shall be well pleased when she hath it all, and that it will be found an agreeable thing. Then carried her home, and my wife and I intended to have seen my Lady Jemimah at Whitehall, but the Exchange Street was so full of coaches, everybody, as they say, going thither to make themselves fine against tomorrow night, that, after half an hour’s stay, we could not do any [thing], only my wife to see her brother, and I to go speak one word with Sir G. Carteret about office business, and talk of the general complexion of matters, which he looks upon, as I do, with horrour, and gives us all for an undone people. That there is no such thing as a peace in hand, nor possibility of any without our begging it, they being as high, or higher, in their terms than ever, and tells me that, just now, my Lord Hollis had been with him, and wept to think in what a condition we are fallen. He showed me my Lord Sandwich’s letter to him, complaining of the lack of money, which Sir G. Carteret is at a loss how in the world to get the King to supply him with, and wishes him, for that reason, here; for that he fears he will be brought to disgrace there, for want of supplies. He says the House is yet in a bad humour; and desiring to know whence it is that the King stirs not, he says he minds it not, nor will be brought to it, and that his servants of the House do, instead of making the Parliament better, rather play the rogue one with another, and will put all in fire. So that, upon the whole, we are in a wretched condition, and I went from him in full apprehensions of it. So took up my wife, her brother being yet very bad, and doubtful whether he will recover or no, and so to St. Ellen’s,3060 and there sent my wife home, and myself to the Pope’s Head, where all the Houblons were, and Dr. Croone,3061 and by and by to an exceeding pretty supper, excellent discourse of all sorts, and indeed [they] are a set of the finest gentlemen that ever I met withal in my life. Here Dr. Croone told me, that, at the meeting at Gresham College tonight, which, it seems, they now have every Wednesday again, there was a pretty experiment of the blood of one dog let out, till he died, into the body of another on one side, while all his own run out on the other side.3062 The first died upon the place, and the other very well, and likely to do well. This did give occasion to many pretty wishes, as of the blood of a Quaker to be let into an Archbishop, and suchlike; but, as Dr. Croone says, may, if it takes, be of mighty use to man’s health, for the amending of bad blood by borrowing from a better body. After supper, James Houblon and another brother took me aside and to talk of some businesses of their own, where I am to serve them, and will, and then to talk of public matters, and I do find that they and all merchants else do give over trade and the nation for lost, nothing being done with care or foresight, no convoys granted, nor anything done to satisfaction; but do think that the Dutch and French will master us the next yeare, do what we can: and so do I, unless necessity makes the King to mind his business, which might yet save all. Here we sat talking till past one in the morning, and then home, where my people sat up for me, my wife and all, and so to bed.
. This [morning] come Mr. Shepley (newly out of the country) to see me; after a little discourse with him, I to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home, and there dined, Shepley with me, and after dinner I did pay him £70, which he had paid my father for my use in the country. He being gone, I took coach and to Mrs. Pierce’s, where I find her as fine as possible, and himself going to the ball at night at Court, it being the Queen’s birthday, and so I carried them in my coach, and having set them into the house, and gotten Mr. Pierce to undertake the carrying in my wife, I to Unthanke’s, where she appointed to be, and there told her, and back again about business to Whitehall, while Pierce went and fetched her and carried her in. I, after I had met with Sir W. Coventry and given him some account of matters, I also to the ball, and with much ado got up to the loft, where with much trouble I could see very well. Anon the house grew full, and the candles light, and the King and Queen and all the ladies set: and it was, indeed, a glorious sight to see Mrs. Stewart in black and white lace, and her head and shoulders dressed with diamonds, and the like a great many great ladies more, only the Queen none; and the King in his rich vest of some rich silke and silver trimming, as the Duke of York and all the dancers were, some of cloth of silver, and others of other sorts, exceeding rich. Presently after the King was come in, he took the Queen, and about fourteen more couple there was, and began the Bransles.3063 As many of the men as I can remember presently, were, the King, Duke of York, Prince Rupert, Duke of Monmouth, Duke of Buckingham, Lord Douglas,3064 Mr. [George] Hamilton, Colonel Russell,3065 Mr. Griffith, Lord Ossory, Lord Rochester;3066 and of the ladies, the Queen, Duchess of York, Mrs. Stewart, Duchess of Monmouth, Lady Essex Howard,3067 Mrs. Temple,3068 Swedes Embassadress,3069 Lady Arlington,3070 Lord George Barkeley’s daughter,3071 and many others I remember not; but all most excellently dressed in rich petticoats and gowns, and diamonds, and pearls. After the Bransles, then to a Corant, and now and then a French dance; but that so rare that the Corants grew tiresome, that I wished it done. Only Mrs. Stewart danced mighty finely, and many French dances, specially one the King called the New Dance, which was very pretty; but upon the whole matter, the business of the dancing of itself was not extraordinary pleasing. But the clothes and sight of the persons was indeed very pleasing, and worth my coming, being never likely to see more gallantry while I live, if I should come twenty times. About twelve at night it broke up, and I to hire a coach with much difficulty, but Pierce had hired a chair for my wife, and so she being gone to his house, he and I, taking up Barker at Unthanke’s, to his house, whither his wife was come home a good while ago and gone to bed. So away home with my wife, between displeased with the dull dancing, and satisfied at the clothes and persons. My Lady Castlemayne, without whom all is nothing, being there, very rich, though not dancing. And so after supper, it being very cold, to bed.
. Up again betimes to attend the examination of Mr. Gawden’s accounts, where we all met, but I did little but fit myself for the drawing my great letter to the Duke of York of the state of the Navy for want of money. At noon to the ’Change, and thence back to the new tavern come by us; the Three Tuns, where D. Gawden did feast us all with a chine of beef and other good things, and an infinite dish of fowl, but all spoiled in the dressing. This noon I met with Mr. Hooke, and he tells me the dog which was filled with another dog’s blood, at the College the other day, is very well, and like to be so as ever, and doubts not its being found of great use to men; and so do Dr. Whistler, who dined with us at the tavern. Thence home in the evening, and I to my preparing my letter, and did go a pretty way in it, staying late upon it, and then home to supper and to bed, the weather being on a sudden set in to be very cold.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and in the afternoon shut myself in my chamber, and there till twelve at night finishing my great letter to the Duke of York, which do lay the ill condition of the Navy so open to him, that it is impossible if the King and he minds anything of their business, but it will operate upon them to set all matters right, and get money to carry on the war, before it be too late, or else lay out for a peace upon any termes. It was a great convenience tonight that what I had writ foule in short hand, I could read to W. Hewer, and he take it fair in short hand, so as I can read it tomorrow to Sir W. Coventry, and then come home, and Hewer read it to me while I take it in longhand to present, which saves me much time. So to bed.
. Up by candlelight and on foote to Whitehall, where by appointment I met Lord Brouncker at Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there I read over my great letter, and they approved it: and as I do do our business in defence of the Board, so I think it is as good a letter in the manner, and believe it is the worst in the matter of it, as ever come from any office to a Prince. Back home in my Lord Brouncker’s coach, and there W. Hewer and I to write it over fair; dined at noon, and Mercer with us, and mighty merry, and then to finish my letter; and it being three o’clock ere we had done, when I come to Sir W. Batten; he was in a huffe, which I made light of, but he signed the letter, though he would not go, and liked the letter well. Sir W. Penn, it seems, he would not stay for it: so, making slight of Sir W. Penn’s putting so much weight upon his hand to Sir W. Batten, I down to the Tower Wharf, and there got a sculler, and to Whitehall, and there met Lord Brouncker, and he signed it, and so I delivered it to Mr. Cheving,3072 and he to Sir W. Coventry, in the cabinet, the King and councill being sitting, where I leave it to its fortune, and I by water home again, and to my chamber, to even my Journal; and then comes Captain Cocke to me, and he and I a great deal of melancholy discourse of the times, giving all over for gone, though now the Parliament will soon finish the Bill for money. But we fear, if we had it, as matters are now managed, we shall never make the best of it, but consume it all to no purpose or a bad one. He being gone, I again to my Journal and finished it, and so to supper and to bed.
. Lay pretty long in bed talking with pleasure with my wife, and then up and all the morning at my own chamber fitting some Tangier matters against the afternoon for a meeting. This morning also came Mr. Caesar, and I heard him on the lute very finely, and my boy begins to play well. After dinner I carried and set my wife down at her brother’s, and then to Barkeshire-house,3073 where my Lord Chancellor hath been ever since the fire, but he is not come home yet, so I to Westminster Hall, where the Lords newly up and the Commons still sitting. Here I met with Mr. Robinson, who did give me a printed paper wherein he states his pretence to the post office, and intends to petition the Parliament in it. Thence I to the Bullhead tavern, where I have not been since Mr. Chetwind3074 and the time of our club, and here had six bottles of claret filled, and I sent them to Mrs. Martin, whom I had promised some of my own, and, having none of my own, sent her this. Thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, and there Mr. Creed and Gawden, Cholmley, and Sir G. Carteret walking in the Park over against the house. I walked with Sir G. Carteret, who I find displeased with the letter I have drawn and sent in yesterday, finding fault with the account we give of the ill state of the Navy, but I said little, only will justify the truth of it. Here we walked to and again till one dropped away after another, and so I took coach to Whitehall, and there visited my Lady Jemimah, at Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings. Here was Sir Thomas Crew, and he told me how hot words grew again today in the House of Lords between my Lord Ossory and Ashly, the former saying that something said by the other was said like one of Oliver’s Council. Ashly said that he must give him reparation, or he would take it his own way. The House therefore did bring my Lord Ossory to confess his fault, and ask pardon for it, as he was also to my Lord Buckingham, for saying that something was not truth that my Lord Buckingham had said. This will render my Lord Ossory very little in a little time. By and by away, and calling my wife went home, and then a little at Sir W. Batten’s to hear news, but nothing, and then home to supper, whither Captain Cocke, half foxed, come and sat with us, and so away, and then we to bed.
. Called up by Mr. Sheply, who is going into the country today to Hinchingbroke, I sent my service to my Lady, and in general for news: that the world do think well of my Lord, and do wish he were here again, but that the public matters of the State as to the war are in the worst condition that is possible. By and by Sir W. Warren, and with him half an hour discoursing of several businesses, and some I hope will bring me a little profit. He gone, and Sheply, I to the office a little, and then to church, it being thanksgiving-day for the cessation of the plague; but, Lord! how the town do say that it is hastened before the plague is quite over, there dying some people still,3075 but only to get ground for plays to be publicly acted, which the Bishops would not suffer till the plague was over; and one would think so, by the suddenness of the notice given of the day, which was last Sunday, and the little ceremony. The sermon being dull of Mr. Minnes, and people with great indifferency come to hear him. After church home, where I met Mr. Gregory, who I did then agree with to come to teach my wife to play on the Viol, and he being an able and sober man, I am mightily glad of it. He had dined, therefore went away, and I to dinner, and after dinner by coach to Barkeshire-house, and there did get a very great meeting; the Duke of York being there, and much business done, though not in proportion to the greatness of the business, and my Lord Chancellor sleeping and snoring the greater part of the time. Among other things I declared the state of our credit as to tallies to raise money by, and there was an order for payment of £5,000 to Mr. Gawden, out of which I hope to get something against Christmas. Here we sat late, and here I did hear that there are some troubles like to be in Scotland, there being a discontented party already risen, that have seized on the Governor of Dumfreeze and imprisoned him,3076 but the story is yet very uncertain, and therefore I set no great weight on it. I home by Mr. Gawden in his coach, and so with great pleasure to spend the evening at home upon my Lyra Viol, and then to supper and to bed. With mighty peace of mind and a hearty desire that I had but what I have quietly in the country, but, I fear, I do at this day see the best that either I or the rest of our nation will ever see.
. Up, with Sir W. Batten to Charing Cross, and thence I to wait on Sir Philip Howard, whom I find dressing himself in his nightgown and turban like a Turke, but one of the finest persons that ever I saw in my life. He had several gentlemen of his own waiting on him, and one playing finely on the guitar: he discourses as well as ever I heard man, in few words and handsome. He expressed all kindness to Balty, when I told him how sick he is: he says that, before he comes to be mustered again, he must bring a certificate of his swearing the oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, and having taken the Sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England. This, I perceive, is imposed on all, and he will be ready to do. I pray God he may have his health again to be able to do it. Being mightily satisfied with his civility, I away to Westminster Hall, and there walked with several people, and all the discourse is about some trouble in Scotland I heard of yesterday, but nobody can tell the truth of it. Here was Betty Michell with her mother. I would have carried her home, but her father intends to go with her, so I lost my hopes. And thence I to the Excise Office about some tallies, and then to the Exchange, where I did much business, and so home to dinner, and then to the office, where busy all the afternoon till night, and then home to supper, and after supper an hour reading to my wife and brother something in Chaucer with great pleasure, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and my Lord Brouncker did show me Hollar’s new print of the City,3077 with a pretty representation of that part which is burnt, very fine indeed; and tells me that he was yesterday sworn the King’s servant, and that the King hath commanded him to go on with his great map of the City,3078 which he was upon before the City was burned, like Gombout of Paris,3079 which I am glad of. At noon home to dinner, where my wife and I fell out, I being displeased with her cutting away a lace handkercher sewed about the neck down to her breasts almost, out of a belief, but without reason, that it is the fashion. Here we did give one another the lie too much, but were presently friends, and then I to my office, where very late and did much business, and then home, and there find Mr. Batelier, and did sup and play at cards awhile. But he tells me the news how the King of France hath, in defiance to the King of England, caused all his footmen to be put into vests,3080 and that the noblemen of France will do the like; which, if true, is the greatest indignity ever done by one Prince to another, and would incite a stone to be revenged; and I hope our King will, if it be so, as he tells me it is:3081 being told by one that come over from Paris with my Lady Fanshaw, who is come over with the dead body of her husband,3082 and that saw it before he come away. This makes me mighty merry, it being an ingenious kind of affront; but yet it makes me angry, to see that the King of England is become so little as to have the affront offered him. So I left my people at cards, and so to my chamber to read, and then to bed. Batelier did bring us some oysters tonight, and some bottles of new French wine of this year, mighty good, but I drank but little. This noon Bagwell’s wife was with me at the office, and I did what I would, and at night comes Mrs. Burroughs, and appointed to meet upon the next holyday and go abroad together.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, where we and the rest attended the Duke of York, where, among other things, we had a complaint of Sir William Jennings3083 against his lieutenant, Le Neve,3084 one that had been long the Duke’s page, and for whom the Duke of York hath great kindness. It was a drunken quarrel, where one was as blameable as the other. It was referred to further examination, but the Duke of York declared, that as he would not favour disobedience, so neither drunkenness, and therein he said very well. Thence with Sir W. Coventry to Westminster Hall, and there parted, he having told me how Sir J. Minnes do disagree from the proposition of resigning his place, and that so the whole matter is again at a stand, at which I am sorry for the King’s sake, but glad that Sir W. Penn is again defeated, for I would not have him come to be Comptroller if I could help it, he will be so cruel proud. Here I spoke with Sir G. Downing about our prisoners in Holland, and their being released; which he is concerned in, and most of them are. Then, discoursing of matters of the House of Parliament, he tells me that it is not the fault of the House, but the King’s own party, that have hindered the passing of the Bill for money, by their popping in of new projects for raising it: which is a strange thing; and mighty confident he is, that what money is raised, will be raised and put into the same form that the last was, to come into the Exchequer; and, for aught I see, I must confess I think it is the best way. Thence down to the Hall, and there walked awhile, and all the talk is about Scotland, what news thence; but there is nothing come since the first report, and so all is given over for nothing. Thence home, and after dinner to my chamber with Creed, who come and dined with me, and he and I to reckon for his salary, and by and by comes in Colonel Atkins, and I did the like with him, and it was Creed’s design to bring him only for his own ends, to seem to do him a courtesy, and it is no great matter. The fellow I hate, and so I think all the world else do. Then to talk of my report I am to make of the state of our wants of money to the Lord Treasurer, but our discourse come to little. However, in the evening, to be rid of him, I took coach and saw him to the Temple and there ’light, and he being gone, with all the haste back again and to my chamber late to enter all this day’s matters of account, and to draw up my report to my Lord Treasurer, and so to bed. At the Temple I called at Playford’s, and there find that his new impression of his ketches3085 are not yet out, the fire having hindered it, but his man tells me that it will be a very fine piece, many things new being added to it.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon rose and to my closet, and finished my report to my Lord Treasurer of our Tangier wants, and then with Sir J. Minnes by coach to Stepney to the Trinity House,3086 where it is kept again now since the burning of their other house in London. And here a great many met at Sir Thomas Allen’s feast, of his being made an Elder Brother; but he is sick, and so could not be there. Here was much good company, and very merry; but the discourse of Scotland, it seems, is confirmed, and that they are 4,000 of them in armes, and do declare for King and Covenant, which is very ill news.3087 I pray God deliver us from the ill consequences we may justly fear from it. Here was a good venison pasty or two and other good victuals; but towards the latter end of the dinner I rose, and without taking leave went away from the table, and got Sir J. Minnes’ coach and away home, and thence with my report to my Lord Treasurer’s, where I did deliver it to Sir Philip Warwicke for my Lord, who was busy, my report for him to consider against tomorrow’s council. Sir Philip Warwicke, I find, is full of trouble in his mind to see how things go, and what our wants are; and so I have no delight to trouble him with discourse, though I honour the man with all my heart, and I think him to be a very able and right honest man. So away home again, and there to my office to write my letters very late, and then home to supper, and then to read the late printed discourse of witches by a member of Gresham College,3088 and then to bed; the discourse being well writ, in good stile, but methinks not very convincing. This day Mr. Martin is come to tell me his wife is brought to bed of a girl, and I promised to christen it next Sunday.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to Whitehall, and there coming late, I to rights to the chapel, where in my usual place I heard one of the King’s chaplains, one Mr. Floyd, preach. He was out two or three times in his prayer, and as many in his sermon, but yet he made a most excellent good sermon, of our duty to imitate the lives and practice of Christ and the saints departed, and did it very handsomely and excellent stile; but was a little overlarge in magnifying the graces of the nobility and prelates, that we have seen in our memories in the world, whom God hath taken from us. At the end of the sermon an excellent anthem; but it was a pleasant thing, an idle companion in our pew, a prating, bold counsellor that hath been heretofore at the Navy Office, and noted for a great eater and drinker, not for quantity, but of the best, his name Tom Bales, said, “I know a fitter anthem for this sermon,” speaking only of our duty of following the saints, and I know not what. “Cooke should have sung, ‘Come, follow, follow me.’ ”3089 After sermon up into the gallery, and then to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner; where much company. Among others, Mr. Carteret and my Lady Jemimah, and here was also Mr. [John] Ashburnham, the great man, who is a pleasant man, and that hath seen much of the world, and more of the Court. After dinner Sir G. Carteret and I to another room, and he tells me more and more of our want of money and in how ill condition we are likely to be soon in, and that he believes we shall not have a fleet at sea the next year. So do I believe; but he seems to speak it as a thing expected by the King and as if their matters were laid accordingly. Thence into the Court and there delivered copies of my report to my Lord Treasurer, to the Duke of York, Sir W. Coventry, and others, and attended there till the Council met, and then was called in, and I read my letter. My Lord Treasurer declared that the King had nothing to give till the Parliament did give him some money. So the King did of himself bid me to declare to all that would take our tallies for payment, that he should, soon as the Parliament’s money do come in, take back their tallies, and give them money: which I giving him occasion to repeat to me, it coming from him against the gré3090 I perceive, of my Lord Treasurer, I was content therewith, and went out, and glad that I have got so much. Here stayed till the Council rose, walking in the gallery. All the talk being of Scotland, where the highest report, I perceive, runs but upon three or four hundred in armes; but they believe that it will grow more, and do seem to apprehend it much, as if the King of France had a hand in it. My Lord Lauderdale do make nothing of it, it seems, and people do censure him for it, he from the beginning saying that there was nothing in it, whereas it do appear to be a pure rebellion; but no persons of quality being in it, all do hope that it cannot amount to much. Here I saw Mrs. Stewart this afternoon, methought the beautifullest creature that ever I saw in my life, more than ever I thought her so, often as I have seen her; and I begin to think do exceed my Lady Castlemayne, at least now. This being St. Catherine’s day, the Queen was at masse by seven o’clock this morning; and. Mr. Ashburnham do say that he never saw anyone have so much zeale in his life as she hath: and, the question being asked by my Lady Carteret, much beyond the bigotry that ever the old Queen-mother had. I spoke with Mr. May,3091 who tells me that the design of building the City do go on apace,3092 and by his description it will be mighty handsome, and to the satisfaction of the people; but I pray God it come not out too late. The Council up, after speaking with Sir W. Coventry a little, away home with Captain Cocke in his coach, discourse about the forming of his contract he made with us lately for hemp, and so home, where we parted, and I find my uncle Wight and Mrs. Wight and Woolly, who stayed and supped, and mighty merry together, and then I to my chamber to even my journal, and then to bed. I will remember that Mr. Ashburnham today at dinner told how the rich fortune Mrs. Mallett reports of her servants;3093 that my Lord Herbert3094 would have had her; my Lord Hinchingbroke was indifferent to have her;3095 my Lord John Butler3096 might not have her; my Lord of Rochester would have forced her;3097 and Sir ⸻ Popham,3098 who nevertheless is likely to have her, would kiss her breach to have her.
. Up, and to my chamber to do some business. Then to speak with several people, among others with Mrs. Burroughs, whom I appointed to meet me at the New Exchange in the afternoon. I by water to Westminster, and there to enquire after my tallies, which I shall get this week. Thence to the Swan, having sent for some burnt claret, and there by and by comes Doll Lane, and she and I sat and drank and talked a great while, among other things about her sister’s being brought to bed, and I to be godfather to the girl. I did tumble Doll, and do almost what I would with her, and so parted, and I took coach, and to the New Exchange, buying a neat’s tongue by the way, thinking to eat it out of town, but there I find Burroughs in company of an old woman, an aunt of hers, whom she could not leave for half an hour. So after buying a few baubles to while away time, I down to Westminster, and there into the House of Parliament, where, at a great Committee, I did hear, as long as I would, the great case against my Lord Mordaunt,3099 for some arbitrary proceedings of his against one Taylor, whom he imprisoned, and did all the violence to imaginable, only to get him to give way to his abusing his daughter. Here was Mr. Sawyer,3100 my old chamber-fellow, a counsel against my Lord; and I am glad to see him in so good play. Here I met, before the committee sat, with my cousin Roger Pepys, the first time I have spoke with him this parliament. He hath promised to come, and bring Madam Turner with him, who is come to town to see the City, but hath lost all her goods of all kinds in Salisbury Court, Sir William Turner3101 having not endeavoured, in her absence, to save one penny, to dine with me on Friday next, of which I am glad. Roger bids me to help him to some good rich widow; for he is resolved to go, and retire wholly, into the country; for, he says, he is confident we shall be all ruined very speedily, by what he sees in the State, and I am much in his mind. Having stayed as long as I thought fit for meeting of Burroughs, I away and to the ’Change again, but there I do not find her now, I having stayed too long at the House, and therefore very hungry, having eat nothing today. Home, and there to eat presently, and then to the office a little, and to Sir W. Batten, where Sir J. Minnes and Captain Cocke was; but no news from the North at all today; and the news-book makes the business nothing, but that they are all dispersed. I pray God it may prove so. So home, and, after a little, to my chamber to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and here I had a letter from Mr. Brisband on another occasion, which, by the by, intimates my Lord Hinchingbroke’s intention to come and dine with me tomorrow. This put me into a great surprise, and therefore endeavoured all I could to hasten over our business at the office, and so home at noon and to dinner, and then away by coach, it being a very foul day, to Whitehall, and there at Sir G. Carteret’s find my Lord Hinchingbroke, who promises to dine with me tomorrow, and bring Mr. Carteret along with him. Here I stayed a little while talking with him and the ladies, and then away to my Lord Crew’s, and then did by the by make a visit to my Lord Crew, and had some good discourse with him, he doubting that all will break in pieces in the kingdom; and that the taxes now coming out, which will tax the same man in three or four several capacities, as for lands, office, profession, and money at interest, will be the hardest that ever come out; and do think that we owe it, and the lateness of its being given, wholly to the unpreparedness of the King’s own party, to make their demand and choice; for they have obstructed the giving it by land-tax, which had been done long since. Having ended my visit, I spoke to Sir Thomas Crew, to invite him and his brother John to dinner tomorrow, at my house, to meet Lord Hinchingbroke; and so homewards, calling at the cook’s, who is to dress it, to bespeak him, and then home, and there set things in order for a very fine dinner, and then to the office, where late very busy and to good purpose as to dispatch of business, and then home. To bed, my people sitting up to get things in order against tomorrow. This evening was brought me what Griffin had, as he says, taken this evening off of the table in the office, a letter sealed and directed to the Principal Officers and Commissioners of the Navy. It is a serious and just libel against our disorder in paying of our money, making ten times more people wait than we have money for, and complaining by name of Sir W. Batten for paying away great sums to particular people, which is true. I was sorry to see this way of reproach taken against us, but more sorry that there is true ground for it.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall (setting his lady and daughter down by the way at a mercer’s in the Strand, where they are going to lay out some money), where, though it blows hard and rains hard, yet the Duke of York is gone a-hunting. We therefore lost our labour, and so back again, and by hackney coach to secure places to get things ready against dinner, and then home, and did the like there, and to my great satisfaction: and at noon comes my Lord Hinchingbroke, Sir Thomas Crew, Mr. John Crew, Mr. Carteret, and Brisband. I had six noble dishes for them, dressed by a man-cook, and commended, as indeed they deserved, for exceeding well done. We eat with great pleasure, and I enjoyed myself in it with reflections upon the pleasures which I at best can expect, yet not to exceed this; eating in silver plates, and all things mighty rich and handsome about me. A great deal of fine discourse, sitting almost till dark at dinner, and then broke up with great pleasure, especially to myself; and they away, only Mr. Carteret and I to Gresham College, where they meet now weekly again, and here they had good discourse how this late experiment of the dog, which is in perfect good health, may be improved for good uses to men,3102 and other pretty things, and then broke up. Here was Mr. Henry Howard, that will hereafter be Duke of Norfolke, who is admitted this day into the Society, and being a very proud man, and one that values himself upon his family, writes his name, as he do everywhere, Henry Howard3103 of Norfolke. Thence home and there comes my Lady Penn, Pegg, and Mrs. Turner, and played at cards and supped with us, and were pretty merry, and Pegg with me in my closet a good while, and did suffer me à la baiser mouche et toucher ses cosas upon her breast, wherein I had great pleasure, and so spent the evening and then broke up, and I to bed, my mind mightily pleased with the day’s entertainment.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where I find Balty come out to see us, but looks like death, and I do fear he is in a consumption; he has not been abroad many weeks before, and hath now a well day, and a fit day of the headache in extraordinary torture. After dinner left him and his wife, they having their mother hard by and my wife, and I a wet afternoon to Whitehall to have seen my Lady Carteret and Jemimah, but as God would have it they were abroad, and I was well contented at it. So my wife and I to Westminster Hall, where I left her a little, and to the Exchequer, and then presently home again, calling at our man-cook’s for his help tomorrow, but he could not come. So I home to the office, my people all busy to get a good dinner tomorrow again. I late at the office, and all the news I hear I put into a letter this night to my Lord Brouncker at Chatham, thus:—
“I doubt not of your lordship’s hearing of Sir Thomas Clifford’s succeeding Sir H. Pollard3104 in the Comptrollership of the King’s house; but perhaps our ill, but confirmed, tidings from the Barbados may not [have reached you] yet, it coming but yesterday; viz., that about eleven ships, whereof two of the King’s, the Hope and Coventry, going thence with men to attack St. Christopher’s, were seized by a violent hurricane, and all sunk—two only of thirteen escaping, and those with loss of masts, etc. My Lord Willoughby3105 himself is involved in the disaster, and I think two ships thrown upon an island of the French, and so all the men, to 500, become their prisoners. ’Tis said, too, that eighteen Dutch men-of-war are passed the Channell, in order to meet with our Smyrna ships; and some, I hear, do fright us with the King of Sweden’s seizing our mast-ships at Gottenburgh. But we have too much ill news true, to afflict ourselves with what is uncertain. That which I hear from Scotland is, the Duke of York’s saying, yesterday, that he is confident the Lieutenant-General there hath driven them into a pound, somewhere towards the mountains.”
Having writ my letter, I home to supper and to bed, the world being mightily troubled at the ill news from Barbados, and the consequence of the Scotch business, as little as we do make of it. And to show how mad we are at home, here, and unfit for any troubles: my Lord St. John did, a day or two since, openly pull a gentleman in Westminster Hall by the nose, one Sir Andrew Henly,3106 while the judges were upon their benches, and the other gentleman did give him a rap over the pate with his cane, of which fray the judges, they say, will make a great matter: men are only sorry the gentleman did proceed to return a blow; for, otherwise, my Lord would have been soundly fined for the affront, and may be yet for his affront to the judges.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, and there we did attend the Duke of York, and had much business with him; and pretty to see, it being St. Andrew’s day, how some few did wear St. Andrew’s crosse; but most did make a mockery at it, and the House of Parliament, contrary to practice, did sit also: people having no mind to observe the Scotch saints’ days till they hear better news from Scotland. Thence to Westminster Hall and the Abbey, thinking as I had appointed to have met Mrs. Burroughs there, but not meeting her I home, and just overtook my cousin Roger Pepys, Mrs. Turner, Dicke, and Joyce Norton, coming by invitation to dine with me. These ladies I have not seen since before the plague. Mrs. Turner is come to town to look after her things in her house, but all is lost. She is quite weary of the country, but cannot get her husband to let her live here any more, which troubles her mightily. She was mighty angry with me, that in all this time I never writ to her, which I do think and take to myself as a fault, and which I have promised to mend. Here I had a noble and costly dinner for them, dressed by a man-cook, as that the other day was, and pretty merry we were, as I could be with this company and so great a charge. We sat long, and after much talk of the plenty of her country in fish, but in nothing also that is pleasing, we broke up with great kindness, and when it begun to be dark we parted, they in one coach home, and I in another to Westminster Hall, where by appointment Mrs. Burroughs and I were to meet, but did not after I had spent the whole evening there. Only I did go drink at the Swan, and there did meet with Sarah, who is now newly married, and there I did lay the beginnings of a future amour con elle. … Thence it being late away called at Mrs. Burroughs’ mother’s door, and she come out to me, and I did hazer whatever I would … and then parted, and home, and after some playing at cards with my wife, we to supper and to bed.
December 1666
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At home to dinner, and then abroad walking to the Old Swan, and in my way I did see a cellar in Tower Street in a very fresh fire, the late great winds having blown it up.3107 It seemed to be only of logwood, that hath kept the fire all this while in it. Going further, I met my late Lord Mayor Bludworth, under whom the City was burned, and went with him by water to Whitehall. But, Lord! the silly talk that this fellow had, only how ready he would be to part with all his estate in these difficult times to advance the King’s service, and complaining that now, as everybody did lately in the fire, everybody endeavours to save himself, and let the whole perish: but a very weak man he seems to be. I left him at Whitehall, he giving 6d. towards the boat, and I to Westminster Hall, where I was again defeated in my expectation of Burroughs. However, I was not much sorry for it, but by coach home, in the evening, calling at Faythorne’s, buying three of my Lady Castlemayne’s heads, printed this day,3108 which indeed is, as to the head, I think, a very fine picture, and like her. I did this afternoon get Mrs. Michell to let me only have a sight of a pamphlet lately printed, but suppressed and much called after, called The Catholic’s Apology;3109 lamenting the severity of the Parliament against them, and comparing it with the lenity of other princes to Protestants; giving old and late instances of their loyalty to their princes, whatever is objected against them; and excusing their disquiets in Queen Elizabeth’s time, for that it was impossible for them to think her a lawful Queen, if Queen Mary, who had been owned as such, were so; one being the daughter of the true, and the other of a false wife: and that of the Gunpowder Treason, by saying that it was only the practice of some of us, if not the King, to trepan some of their religion into it, it never being defended by the generality of their Church, nor indeed known by them; and ends with a large Catalogue, in red letters, of the Catholics which have lost their lives in the quarrel of the late King and this. The thing is very well writ indeed. So home to my letters, and then to my supper and to bed.
. Up, and to church, and after church home to dinner, where I met Betty Michell and her husband, very merry at dinner, and after dinner, having borrowed Sir W. Penn’s coach, we to Westminster, they two and my wife and I to Mr. Martin’s, where find the company almost all come to the christening of Mrs. Martin’s child, a girl. A great deal of good plain company. After sitting long, till the church was done, the Parson comes, and then we to christen the child. I was Godfather, and Mrs. Holder (her husband, a good man, I know well), and a pretty lady, that waits, it seems, on my Lady Bath,3110 at Whitehall, her name, Mrs. Noble, were Godmothers. After the christening comes in the wine and the sweetmeats, and then to prate and tattle, and then very good company they were, and I among them. Here was old Mrs. Michell and Howlett, and several married women of the Hall, whom I knew maids. Here was also Mrs. Burroughs and Mrs. Bales, the young widow, whom I led home, and having stayed till the moon was up, I took my pretty gossip3111 to Whitehall with us, and I saw her in her lodging, and then my own company again took coach, and no sooner in the coach but something broke, that we were fain there to stay till a smith could be fetched, which was above an hour, and then it costing me 6s. to mend. Away round by the wall and Cow Lane,3112 for fear it should break again; and in pain about the coach all the way. But to ease myself therein Betty Michell did sit at the same end with me. … Being very much pleased with this, we at last come home, and so to supper, and then sent them by boat home, and we to bed. When I come home I went to Sir W. Batten’s, and there I hear more ill news still: that all our New England fleet, which went out lately, are put back a third time by foul weather, and dispersed, some to one port and some to another; and their convoys also to Plymouth; and whether any of them be lost or not, we do not know. This, added to all the rest, do lay us flat in our hopes and courages, everybody prophesying destruction to the nation.
. Up, and, among a great many people that come to speak with me, one was my Lord Peterborough’s gentleman, who comes to me to dun me to get some money advanced for my Lord; and I demanding what news, he tells me that at Court they begin to fear the business of Scotland more and more; and that the Duke of York intends to go to the North to raise an army, and that the King would have some of the Nobility and others to go and assist; but they were so served the last year, among others his Lord, in raising forces at their own charge, for fear of the French invading us, that they will not be got out now, without money advanced to them by the King, and this is like to be the King’s case for certain, if ever he comes to have need of any army. He and others gone, I by water to Westminster, and there to the Exchequer, and put my tallies in a way of doing for the last quarter. But my not following it the last week has occasioned the clerks some trouble, which I am sorry for, and they are mad at. Thence at noon home, and there find Kate Joyce, who dined with me. Her husband and she are weary of their new life of being an Innkeeper, and will leave it, and would fain get some office; but I know none the foole is fit for, but would be glad to help them, if I could, though they have enough to live on, God be thanked! though their loss hath been to the value of £3,000. W. Joyce now has all the trade, she says, the trade being come to that end of the town. She dined with me, my wife being ill of her months in bed. I left her with my wife, and away myself to Westminster Hall by appointment and there found out Burroughs, and I took her by coach as far as the Lord Treasurer’s and called at the cake house by Hales’s, and there in the coach eat and drank and then carried her home. … So having set her down in the palace I to the Swan, and there did the first time baiser the little sister of Sarah that is come into her place, and so away by coach home, where to my viol and supper and then to bed, being weary of the following of my pleasure and sorry for my omitting (though with a true salvo to my vowes) the stating my last month’s accounts in time, as I should, but resolve to settle, and clear all my business before me this month, that I may begin afresh the next yeare, and enjoy some little pleasure freely at Christmasse. So to bed, and with more cheerfulness than I have done a good while, to hear that for certain the Scott rebells are all routed; they having been so bold as to come within three miles of Edinburgh, and there given two or three repulses to the King’s forces, but at last were mastered. Three or four hundred killed or taken, among which their leader, one Wallis, and seven ministers, they having all taken the Covenant a few days before, and sworn to live and die in it, as they did; and so all is likely to be there quiet again. There is also the very good news come of four New-England ships come home safe to Falmouth with masts for the King; which is a blessing mighty unexpected, and without which, if for nothing else, we must have failed the next year. But God be praised for thus much good fortune, and send us the continuance of his favour in other things! So to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon dined at home. After dinner presently to my office, and there late and then home to even my Journal and accounts, and then to supper much eased in mind, and last night’s good news, which is more and more confirmed with particulars to very good purpose, and so to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, where we did much business before the Duke of York, which being done, I away home by water again, and there to my office till noon busy. At noon home, and Goodgroome3113 dined with us, who teaches my wife to sing. After dinner I did give him my song, “Beauty retire,” which he has often desired of me, and without flattery I think is a very good song. He gone, I to the office, and there late, very busy doing much business, and then home to supper and talk, and then scold with my wife for not reckoning well the times that her music master hath been with her, but setting down more than I am sure, and did convince her, they had been with her, and in an ill humour of anger with her to bed.
. Up, but very good friends with her before I rose, and so to the office, where we sat all the forenoon, and then home to dinner, where Harman dined with us, and great sport to hear him tell how Will Joyce grows rich by the custom of the City coming to his end of the town, and how he rants over his brother and sister for their keeping an Inne, and goes thither and tears like a prince, calling him hosteller and his sister hostess. Then after dinner, my wife and brother, in another habit,3114 go out to see a play; but I am not to take notice that I know of my brother’s going. So I to the office, where very busy till late at night, and then home. My wife not pleased with the play, but thinks that it is because she is grown more critical than she used to be, but my brother she says is mighty taken with it. So to supper and to bed. This day, in the Gazette, is the whole story of defeating the Scotch rebells, and of the creation of the Duke of Cambridge, Knight of the Garter.3115
. Up, and by water to the Exchequer, where I got my tallies finished for the last quarter for Tangier, and having paid all my fees I to the Swan, whither I sent for some oysters, and thither comes Mr. Falconbridge and Spicer and many more clerks; and there we eat and drank, and a great deal of their sorry discourse, and so parted, and I by coach home, meeting Balty in the street about Charing Crosse walking, which I am glad to see and spoke to him about his mustering business, I being now to give an account how the several muster-masters have behaved themselves, and so home to dinner, where finding the cloth laid and much crumpled but clean, I grew angry and flung the trenchers about the room, and in a mighty heat I was: so a clean cloth was laid, and my poor wife very patient, and so to dinner, and in comes Mrs. Barbara Sheldon, now Mrs. Wood, and dined with us, she mighty fine, and lives, I perceive, mighty happily, which I am glad [of] for her sake, but hate her husband for a blockhead in his choice. So away after dinner, leaving my wife and her, and by water to the Strand, and so to the King’s playhouse, where two acts were almost done when I come in; and there I sat with my cloak about my face, and saw the remainder of The Maid’s Tragedy; a good play, and well acted, especially by the younger Marshall, who is become a pretty good actor, and is the first play I have seen in either of the houses since before the great plague, they having acted now about fourteen days publicly. But I was in mighty pain lest I should be seen by anybody to be at a play. Soon as done I home, and then to my office awhile, and then home and spent the night evening my Tangier accounts, much to my satisfaction, and then to supper, and mighty good friends with my poor wife, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and there find Mr. Pierce and his wife and Betty, a pretty girl, who in discourse at table told me the great Proviso passed the House of Parliament yesterday; which makes the King and Court mad, the King having given order to my Lord Chamberlain to send to the playhouses and bawdy houses, to bid all the Parliament-men that were there to go to the Parliament presently. This is true, it seems; but it was carried against the Court by thirty or forty voices. It is a Proviso to the Poll Bill, that there shall be a Committee of nine persons that shall have the inspection upon oath, and power of giving others, of all the accounts of the money given and spent for this war. This hath a most sad face, and will breed very ill blood. He tells me, brought in by Sir Robert Howard,3116 who is one of the King’s servants, at least hath a great office, and hath got, they say, £20,000 since the King come in. Mr. Pierce did also tell me as a great truth, as being told it by Mr. Cowly,3117 who was by, and heard it, that Tom Killigrew should publicly tell the King that his matters were coming into a very ill state; but that yet there was a way to help all, which is, says he, “There is a good, honest, able man, that I could name, that if your Majesty would employ, and command to see all things well executed, all things would soon be mended; and this is one Charles Stuart, who now spends his time in employing his lips … about the Court, and hath no other employment; but if you would give him this employment, he were the fittest man in the world to perform it.” This, he says, is most true; but the King do not profit by any of this, but lays all aside, and remembers nothing, but to his pleasures again; which is a sorrowful consideration. Very good company we were at dinner, and merry, and after dinner, he being gone about business, my wife and I and Mrs. Pierce and Betty and Balty, who come to see us today very sick, and went home not well, together out, and our coach broke the wheel off upon Ludgate Hill. So we were fain to part ourselves and get room in other people’s coaches, and Mrs. Pierce and I in one, and I carried her home and set her down, and myself to the King’s playhouse, which troubles me since, and hath cost me a forfeit of 10s., which I have paid, and there did see a good part of The English Monsieur,3118 which is a mighty pretty play, very witty and pleasant. And the women do very well; but, above all, little Nelly,3119 that I am mightily pleased with the play, and much with the House, more than ever I expected, the women doing better than ever I expected, and very fine women. Here I was in pain to be seen, and hid myself; but, as God would have it, Sir John Chichly3120 come, and sat just by me. Thence to Mrs. Pierce’s, and there took up my wife and away home, and to the office and Sir W. Batten’s, of whom I hear that this Proviso in Parliament is mightily ill taken by all the Court party as a mortal blow, and that, that strikes deep into the King’s prerogative, which troubles me mightily. Home, and set some papers right in my chamber, and then to supper and to bed, we being in much fear of ill news of our colliers. A fleet of two hundred sail, and fourteen Dutch men-of-war between them and us and they coming home with small convoy; and the City in great want, coals being at £3 3s. per chaldron, as I am told. I saw smoke in the ruines this very day.
. Up, not to church, but to my chamber, and there begun to enter into this book my journal of September, which in the fire-time I could not enter here, but in loose papers. At noon dined, and then to my chamber all the afternoon and night, looking over and tearing and burning all the unnecessary letters, which I have had upon my file for four or five years backward, which I intend to do quite through all my papers, that I may have nothing by me but what is worth keeping, and fit to be seen, if I should miscarry. At this work till midnight, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at my office all the morning, and several people with me, Sir W. Warren, who I do every day more and more admire for a miracle of cunning and forecast in his business, and then Captain Cocke, with whom I walked in the garden, and he tells me how angry the Court is at the late Proviso brought in by the House. How still my Lord Chancellor is, not daring to do or say anything to displease the Parliament; that the Parliament is in a very ill humour, and grows every day more and more so; and that the unskilfulness of the Court, and their difference among one another, is the occasion of all not agreeing in what they would have, and so they give leisure and occasion to the other part to run away with what the Court would not have. Then comes Mr. Gawden, and he and I in my chamber discoursing about his business, and to pay him some Tangier orders which he delayed to receive till I had money instead of tallies, but do promise me consideration for my victualling business for this year, and also as Treasurer for Tangier, which I am glad of, but would have been gladder to have just now received it. He gone, I alone to dinner at home, my wife and her people being gone down the river today for pleasure, though a cold day and dark night to come up. In the afternoon I to the Excise Office3121 to enter my tallies, which I did, and come presently back again, and then to the office and did much business, and then home to supper, my wife and people being come well and hungry home from Erith. Then I to begin the setting of a Base to “It is Decreed,” and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat, and at noon home to dinner, a small dinner because of a good supper. After dinner my wife and I by coach to St. Clement’s Church, to Mrs. Turner’s lodgings, hard by, to take our leaves of her. She is returning into the North to her children, where, I perceive, her husband hath clearly got the mastery of her, and she is likely to spend her days there,3122 which for her sake I am a little sorry for, though for his it is but fit she should live where he hath a mind. Here were several people come to see and take leave of her, she going tomorrow: among others, my Lady Mordant,3123 which was Betty Turner, a most homely widow, but young, and pretty rich, and good natured. Thence, having promised to write every month to her, we home, and I to my office, while my wife to get things together for supper. Dispatching my business at the office. Anon come our guests, old Mr. Batelier, and his son and daughter, Mercer, which was all our company. We had a good venison pasty and other good cheer, and as merry as in so good, innocent, and understanding company I could be. He is much troubled that wines, laden by him in France before the late proclamation was out, cannot now be brought into England, which is so much to his and other merchants’ loss. We sat long at supper and then to talk, and so late parted and so to bed. This day the Poll Bill was to be passed, and great endeavours used to take away the Proviso.
. Up, and to the office, where some accounts of Mr. Gawden’s were examined, but I home most of the morning to even some accounts with Sir H. Cholmly, Mr. Moone, and others one after another. Sir H. Cholmly did with grief tell me how the Parliament hath been told plainly that the King hath been heard to say, that he would dissolve them rather than pass this Bill with the Proviso; but tells me, that the Proviso is removed, and now carried that it shall be done by a Bill by itself. He tells me how the King hath lately paid about £30,0003124 to clear debts of my Lady Castlemayne’s; and that she and her husband are parted forever, upon good terms, never to trouble one another more. He says that he hears £400,000 hath gone into the Privypurse since this war; and that that hath consumed so much of our money, and makes the King and Court so mad to be brought to discover it. He gone, and after him the rest, I to the office, and at noon to the ’Change, where the very good news is just come of our four ships from Smyrna, come safe without convoy even into the Downs, without seeing any enemy; which is the best, and indeed only considerable good news to our Exchange, since the burning of the City; and it is strange to see how it do cheer up men’s hearts. Here I saw shops now come to be in this Exchange, and met little Batelier, who sits here but at £3 per annum, whereas he sat at the other at £100, which he says he believes will prove of as good account to him now as the other did at that rent. From the ’Change to Captain Cocke’s, and there, by agreement, dined, and there was Charles Porter,3125 Temple,3126 Fenn,3127 Debasty, whose bad English and pleasant discourses was exceeding good entertainment, Matt. Wren, Major Cooper, and myself, mighty merry and pretty discourse. They talked for certain, that now the King do follow Mrs. Stewart wholly, and my Lady Castlemayne not above once a week; that the Duke of York do not haunt my Lady Denham so much; that she troubles him with matters of State, being of my Lord Bristoll’s faction, and that he avoids; that she is ill still. After dinner I away to the office, where we sat late upon Mr. Gawden’s accounts, Sir J. Minnes being gone home sick. I late at the office, and then home to supper and to bed, being mightily troubled with a pain in the small of my back, through cold, or (which I think most true) my straining last night to get open my plate chest, in such pain all night I could not turn myself in my bed. News this day from Brampton, of Mr. Ensum, my sister’s sweetheart, being dead: a clown.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat. At noon to the ’Change and there met Captain Cocke, and had a second time his direction to bespeak £100 of plate, which I did at Sir R. Viner’s, being twelve plates more, and something else I have to choose. Thence home to dinner, and there W. Hewer dined with me, and showed me a Gazette, in April last, which I wonder should never be remembered by anybody, which tells how several persons were then tried for their lives, and were found guilty of a design of killing the King and destroying the Government; and as a means to it, to burn the City; and that the day intended for the plot was the 3rd of last September.3128 And the fire did indeed break out on the 2nd of September, which is very strange, methinks, and I shall remember it. At the office all the afternoon late, and then home to even my accounts in my Tangier book, which I did to great content in all respects, and joy to my heart, and so to bed. This afternoon Sir W. Warren and Mr. Moore, one after another, walked with me in the garden, and they both tell me that my Lord Sandwich is called home, and that he do grow more and more in esteem everywhere, and is better spoken of, which I am mighty glad of, though I know well enough his deserving the same before, and did foresee that it will come to it. In mighty great pain in my back still, but I perceive it changes its place, and do not trouble me at all in making of water, and that is my joy, so that I believe it is nothing but a strain, and for these three or four days I perceive my overworking of my eyes by candlelight do hurt them as it did the last winter, that by day I am well and do get them right, but then after candlelight they begin to be sore and run, so that I intend to get some green spectacles.
. Up, and very well again of my pain in my back, it having been nothing but cold. By coach to Whitehall, seeing many smokes of the fire by the way yet, and took up into the coach with me a country gentleman, who asked me room to go with me, it being dirty—one come out of the North to see his son, after the burning his house: a merchant. Here endeavoured to wait on the Duke of York, but he would not stay from the Parliament. So I to Westminster Hall, and there met my good friend Mr. Evelyn, and walked with him a good while, lamenting our condition for want of good council, and the King’s minding of his business and servants. I out to the Bell Tavern, and thither comes Doll to me. … , and after an hour’s stay, away and stayed in Westminster Hall till the rising of the house, having told Mr. Evelyn, and he several others, of my Gazette which I had about me that mentioned in April last a plot for which several were condemned of treason at the Old Bailey for many things, and among others for a design of burning the city on the 3rd of September. The house sat till three o’clock, and then up: and I home with Sir Stephen Fox to his house to dinner, and the Cofferer3129 with us. There I find Sir S. Fox’s lady, a fine woman, and seven the prettiest children of theirs that ever I knew almost. A very genteel dinner, and in great state and fashion, and excellent discourse; and nothing like an old experienced man and a courtier, and such is the Cofferer Ashburnham. The House have been mighty hot today against the Paper Bill, showing all manner of averseness to give the King money; which these courtiers do take mighty notice of, and look upon the others as bad rebells as ever the last were. But the courtiers did carry it against those men upon a division of the House, a great many, that it should be committed; and so it was: which they reckon good news. After dinner we three to the Excise Office, and there had long discourse about our monies, but nothing to satisfaction, that is, to show any way of shortening the time which our tallies take up before they become payable, which is now full two years, which is 20 percent for all the King’s money for interest, and the great disservice of his Majesty otherwise. Thence in the evening round by coach home, where I find Foundes his present, of a fair pair of candlesticks, and half a dozen of plates come, which cost him full £50, and is a very good present; and here I met with, sealed up, from Sir H. Cholmly, the lampoone, or the Mocke-Advice to a Paynter,3130 abusing the Duke of York and my Lord Sandwich, Penn, and everybody, and the King himself, in all the matters of the navy and war. I am sorry for my Lord Sandwich’s having so great a part in it. Then to supper and music, and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where my Lord Brouncker newly come to town, from his being at Chatham and Harwich to spy enormities: and at noon I with him and his lady Williams, to Captain Cocke’s, where a good dinner, and very merry. Good news today upon the Exchange, that our Hamburg fleet is got in; and good hopes that we may soon have the like of our Gottenburgh, and then we shall be well for this winter. Very merry at dinner. And by and by comes in Matt. Wren3131 from the Parliament-house; and tells us that he and all his party of the House, which is the Court party, are fools, and have been made so this day by the wise men of the other side; for, after the Court party had carried it yesterday so powerfully for the Paper-Bill,3132 yet now it is laid aside wholly, and to be supplied by a land-tax; which it is true will do well, and will be the sooner finished, which was the great argument for the doing of it. But then it shows them fools, that they would not permit this to have been done six weeks ago, which they might have had. And next, they have parted with the Paper Bill, which, when once begun, might have proved a very good flower in the Crown, as any there. So do really say that they are truly outwitted by the other side. Thence away to Sir R. Viner’s, and there chose some plate besides twelve plates which I purpose to have with Captain Cocke’s gift of £100, and so home and there busy late, and then home and to bed.
. Lay long talking with my wife in bed, then up with great content and to my chamber to set right a picture or two, Lovett having sent me yesterday Sancta Clara’s head varnished, which is very fine, and now my closet is so full stored, and so fine, as I would never desire to have it better. Dined without any strangers with me, which I do not like on Sundays. Then after dinner by water to Westminster to see Mrs. Martin, whom I found up in her chamber and ready to go abroad. I sat there with her and her husband and others a pretty while, and then away to Whitehall, and there walked up and down to the Queen’s side, and there saw my dear Lady Castlemayne, who continues admirable, methinks, and I do not hear but that the King is the same to her still as ever. Anon to chapel, by the King’s closet, and heard a very good anthem. Then with Lord Brouncker to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber; and there we sat with him and talked. He is weary of anything to do, he says, in the Navy. He tells us this Committee of Accounts will enquire sharply into our office. And, speaking of Sir J. Minnes, he says he will not bear anybody’s faults but his own. He discoursed as bad of Sir W. Batten almost, and cries out upon the discipline of the fleet, which is lost, and that there is not in any of the fourth rates and under scarce left one Sea Commander, but all young gentlemen; and what troubles him, he hears that the gentlemen give out that in two or three years a Tarpaulin shall not dare to look after being better than a Boatswain. Which he is troubled at, and with good reason, and at this day Sir Robert Holmes is mighty troubled that his brother do not command in chief, but is commanded by Captain Hannum,3133 who, Sir W. Coventry says, he believes to be at least of as good blood, is a longer bred seaman, an elder officer, and an elder commander, but such is Sir R. Holmes’s pride as never to be stopped, he being greatly troubled at my Lord Brouncker’s late discharging all his men and officers but the standing officers at Chatham, and so are all other Commanders, and a very great cry hath been to the King from them all in my Lord’s absence. But Sir W. Coventry do undertake to defend it, and my Lord Brouncker got ground I believe by it, who is angry at Sir W. Batten’s and Sir W. Penn’s bad words concerning it, and I have made it worse by telling him that they refuse to sign to a paper which he and I signed on Saturday to declare the reason of his actions, which Sir W. Coventry likes and would have it sent him and he will sign it, which pleases me well. So we parted, and I with Lord Brouncker to Sir P. Neale’s chamber, and there sat and talked awhile, Sir Edward Walker being there, and telling us how he hath lost many fine rolls of antiquity in heraldry by the late fire, but hath saved the most of his papers. Here was also Dr. Wallis,3134 the famous scholar and mathematician; but he promises little. Left them, and in the dark and cold home by water, and so to supper and to read and so to bed, my eyes being better today, and I cannot impute it to anything but by my being much in the dark tonight, for I plainly find that it is only excess of light that makes my eyes sore. This afternoon I walked with Lord Brouncker into the Park and there talked of the times, and he do think that the King sees that he cannot never have much more money or good from this Parliament, and that therefore he may hereafter dissolve them, that as soon as he has the money settled he believes a peace will be clapped up, and that there are overtures of a peace, which if such as the Lord Chancellor can excuse he will take. For it is the Chancellor’s interest, he says, to bring peace again, for in peace he can do all and command all, but in war he cannot, because he understands not the nature of the war as to the management thereof. He tells me he do not believe the Duke of York will go to sea again, though there are a great many about the King that would be glad of any occasion to take him out of the world, he standing in their ways; and seemed to mean the Duke of Monmouth, who spends his time the most viciously and idly of any man, nor will be fit for anything; yet bespeaks as if it were not impossible but the King would own him for his son, and that there was a marriage between his mother and him; which God forbid should be if it be not true, nor will the Duke of York easily be gulled in it.3135 But this put to our other distractions makes things appear very sad, and likely to be the occasion of much confusion in a little time, and my Lord Brouncker seems to say that nothing can help us but the King’s making a peace soon as he hath this money; and thereby putting himself out of debt, and so becoming a good husband, and then he will neither need this nor any other Parliament, till he can have one to his mind: for no Parliament can, as he says, be kept long good, but they will spoil one another, and that therefore it hath been the practice of kings to tell Parliaments what he hath for them to do, and give them so long time to do it in, and no longer. Harry Kembe, one of our messengers, is lately dead.
. Up, and several people to speak with me, and then comes Mr. Caesar, and then Goodgroome, and, what with one and the other, nothing but music with me this morning, to my great content; and the more, to see that God Almighty hath put me into condition to bear the charge of all this. So out to the ’Change, and did a little business, and then home, where they two musicians and Mr. Cooke come to see me, and Mercer to go along with my wife this afternoon to a play. To dinner, and then our company all broke up, and to my chamber to do several things. Among other things, to write a letter to my Lord Sandwich, it being one of the burdens upon my mind that I have not writ to him since he went into Spain, but now I do intend to give him a brief account of our whole year’s actions since he went, which will make amends. My wife well home in the evening from the play; which I was glad of, it being cold and dark, and she having her necklace of pearl on, and none but Mercer with her. Spent the evening in fitting my books, to have the number set upon each, in order to my having an alphabet of my whole, which will be of great ease to me. This day Captain Batters come from sea in his fireship and come to see me, poor man, as his patron, and a poor painful wretch he is as can be. After supper to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where I hear the ill news that poor Batters,3136 that had been born and bred a seaman, and brought up his ship from sea but yesterday, was, going down from me to his ship, drowned in the Thames, which is a sad fortune, and do make me afeard, and will do, more than ever I was. At noon dined at home, and then by coach to my Lord Bellasses, but not at home. So to Westminster Hall, where the Lords are sitting still, I to see Mrs. Martin, who is very well, and intends to go abroad tomorrow after her childbed. She do tell me that this child did come is meme jour that it ought to hazer after my avoir eté con elle before her marid did venir home. … Thence to the Swan, and there I sent for Sarah, and mighty merry we were. … So to Sir Robert Viner’s about my plate, and carried home another dozen of plates, which makes my stock of plates up 2½ dozen, and at home find Mr. Thomas Andrews, with whom I stayed and talked a little and invited him to dine with me at Christmas, and then I to the office, and there late doing business, and so home and to bed. Sorry for poor Batters.
. Up, and by water down to Whitehall, and there with the Duke of York did our usual business, but nothing but complaints of want of money [without] success, and Sir W. Coventry’s complaint of the defects of our office (indeed Sir J. Minnes’s) without any amendment, and he tells us so plainly of the Committee of Parliament’s resolution to enquire home into all our managements that it makes me resolve to be wary, and to do all things betimes to be ready for them. Thence going away met Mr. Hingston3137 the organist (my old acquaintance) in the Court, and I took him to the Dog Tavern and got him to set me a bass to my “It is decreed,” which I think will go well, but he commends the song not knowing the words, but says the air is good, and believes the words are plainly expressed. He is of my mind against having of 8ths unnecessarily in composition. This did all please me mightily. Then to talk of the King’s family. He says many of the music are ready to starve, they being five years behindhand for their wages; nay, Evens,3138 the famous man upon the Harp having not his equal in the world, did the other day die for mere want, and was fain to be buried at the almes of the parish, and carried to his grave in the dark at night without one linke, but that Mr. Hingston met it by chance, and did give 12d. to buy two or three links. He says all must come to ruin at this rate, and I believe him. Thence I up to the Lords’ House to enquire for Lord Bellasses; and there hear how at a conference this morning between the two Houses about the business of the Canary Company, my Lord Buckingham leaning rudely over my Lord Marquis Dorchester,3139 my Lord Dorchester removed his elbow. Duke of Buckingham asked him whether he was uneasy; Dorchester replied, yes, and that he durst not do this were he anywhere else: Buckingham replied, yes he would, and that he was a better man than himself; Dorchester answered that he lyed. With this Buckingham struck off his hat, and took him by his periwig, and pulled it aside, and held him. My Lord Chamberlain and others interposed, and, upon coming into the House, the Lords did order them both to the Tower, whither they are to go this afternoon. I down into the Hall, and there the Lieutenant of the Tower3140 took me with him, and would have me to the Tower to dinner; where I dined at the head of his table, next his lady,3141 who is comely and seeming sober and stately, but very proud and very cunning, or I am mistaken, and wanton, too. This day’s work will bring the Lieutenant of the Tower £350. But a strange, conceited, vain man he is that ever I met withal, in his own praise, as I have heretofore observed of him. Thence home, and upon Tower Hill saw about 3 or 400 seamen get together; and one, standing upon a pile of bricks, made his sign, with his handkercher, upon his stick, and called all the rest to him, and several shouts they gave. This made me afeard; so I got home as fast as I could. And hearing of no present hurt did go to Sir Robert Viner’s about my plate again, and coming home do hear of 1,000 seamen said in the streets to be in armes. So in great fear home, expecting to find a tumult about my house, and was doubtful of my riches there. But I thank God I found all well. But by and by Sir W. Batten and Sir R. Ford do tell me, that the seamen have been at some prisons, to release some seamen, and the Duke of Albemarle is in armes, and all the Guards at the other end of the town; and the Duke of Albemarle is gone with some forces to Wapping, to quell the seamen; which is a thing of infinite disgrace to us. I sat long talking with them; and, among other things, Sir R. Ford did make me understand how the House of Commons is a beast not to be understood, it being impossible to know beforehand the success almost of any small plain thing, there being so many to think and speak to any business, and they of so uncertain minds and interests and passions. He did tell me, and so did Sir W. Batten, how Sir Allen Brodericke3142 and Sir Allen Apsly3143 did come drunk the other day into the House, and did both speak for half an hour together, and could not be either laughed, or pulled, or bid to sit down and hold their peace, to the great contempt of the King’s servants and cause; which I am grieved at with all my heart. We were full in discourse of the sad state of our times, and the horrid shame brought on the King’s service by the just clamours of the poor seamen, and that we must be undone in a little time. Home full of trouble on these considerations, and, among other things, I to my chamber, and there to ticket a good part of my books, in order to the numbering of them for my easy finding them to read as I have occasion. So to supper and to bed, with my heart full of trouble.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and here among other things come Captain Cocke, and I did get him to sign me a note for the £100 to pay for the plate he do present me with, which I am very glad of. At noon home to dinner, where was Balty come, who is well again, and the most recovered in his countenance that ever I did see. Here dined with me also Mrs. Batters, poor woman! now left a sad widow by the drowning of her husband the other day. I pity her, and will do her what kindness I can; yet I observe something of ill-nature in myself more than should be, that I am colder towards her in my charity than I should be to one so painful as he and she have been and full of kindness to their power to my wife and I. After dinner out with Balty, setting him down at the Maypole in the Strand, and then I to my Lord Bellasses, and there spoke with Mr. Moone about some business, and so away home to my business at the office, and then home to supper and to bed, after having finished the putting of little papers upon my books to be numbered hereafter.
. Lay long, and when up find Mrs. Clerk of Greenwich and her daughter Daniel, their business among other things was a request her daughter was to make, so I took her into my chamber, and there it was to help her husband to the command of a little new pleasure boat building, which I promised to assist in. And here I had opportunity para baiser elle, and toucher ses mamelles. … Then to the office, and there did a little business, and then to the ’Change and did the like. So home to dinner, and spent all the afternoon in putting some things, pictures especially, in order, and pasting my Lady Castlemayne’s print on a frame, which I have made handsome, and is a fine piece. So to the office in the evening to marshall my papers of accounts presented to the Parliament, against any future occasion to recur to them, which I did do to my great content. So home and did some Tangier work, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and there come news from Hogg that our ship hath brought in a Lubecker to Portsmouth, likely to prove prize, of deals, which joys us. At noon home to dinner, and then Sir W. Penn, Sir R. Ford, and I met at Sir W. Batten’s to examine our papers, and have great hopes to prove her prize, and Sir R. Ford I find a mighty yare3144 man in this business, making exceeding good observations from the papers on our behalf. Hereupon concluded what to write to Hogg and Middleton, which I did, and also with Mr. Oviatt (Sir R. Ford’s son, who is to be our solicitor), to fee some counsel in the Admiralty, but none in town. So home again, and after writing letters by the post, I with all my clerks and Carcasse and Whitfield3145 to the ticket-office, there to be informed in the method and disorder of the office, which I find infinite great, of infinite concernment to be mended, and did spend till 12 at night to my great satisfaction, it being a point of our office I was wholly unacquainted in. So with great content home and to bed.
. Up and alone to church, and meeting Nan Wright at the gate had opportunity to take two or three baisers, and so to church, where a vain fellow with a periwig preached, Chaplain, as by his prayer appeared, to the Earl of Carlisle.3146 Home, and there dined with us Betty Michell and her husband. After dinner to Whitehall by coach, and took them with me. And in the way I would have taken su main as I did the last time, but she did in a manner withhold it. So set them down at Whitehall, and I to the Chapel to find Dr. Gibbons, and from him to the Harp and Ball to transcribe the treble which I would have him to set a bass to. But this took me so much time, and it growing night, I was fearful of missing a coach, and therefore took a coach and to rights to call Michell and his wife at their father Howlett’s, and so home, it being cold, and the ground all snow. … They gone I to my chamber, and with my brother and wife did number all my books in my closet, and took a list of their names, which pleases me mightily, and is a jobb I wanted much to have done. Then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where Lord Brouncker, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself met, and there I did use my notes I took on Saturday night about tickets, and did come to a good settlement in the business of that office, if it be kept to, this morning being a meeting on purpose. At noon to prevent my Lord Brouncker’s dining here I walked as if upon business with him, it being frost and dry, as far as Paul’s, and so back again through the City by Guildhall, observing the ruines thereabouts, till I did truly lose myself, and so home to dinner. I do truly find that I have overwrought my eyes, so that now they are become weak and apt to be tired, and all excess of light makes them sore, so that now to the candlelight I am forced to sit by, adding, the snow upon the ground all day, my eyes are very bad, and will be worse if not helped, so my Lord Brouncker do advise as a certain cure to use greene spectacles, which I will do. So to dinner, where Mercer with us, and very merry. After dinner she goes and fetches a little son of Mr. Backeworth’s, the wittiest child and of the most spirit that ever I saw in my life for discourse of all kind, and so ready and to the purpose, not above four years old. Thence to Sir Robert Viner’s, and there paid for the plate I have bought to the value of £94, with the £100 Captain Cocke did give me to that purpose, and received the rest in money. I this evening did buy me a pair of green spectacles, to see whether they will help my eyes or no. So to the ’Change, and went to the Upper ’Change, which is almost as good as the old one; only shops are but on one side. Then home to the office, and did business till my eyes began to be bad, and so home to supper. My people busy making mince pies, and so to bed. No news yet of our Gottenburgh fleet; which makes [us] have some fears, it being of mighty concernment to have our supply of masts safe. I met with Mr. Cade tonight, my stationer; and he tells me that he hears for certain that the Queen-Mother is about and hath near finished a peace with France, which, as a Presbyterian, he do not like, but seems to fear it will be a means to introduce Popery.
. Lay pretty long in bed, and then rose, leaving my wife desirous to sleep, having sat up till four this morning seeing her maids make mince-pies. I to church, where our parson Mills made a good sermon. Then home, and dined well on some good ribbs of beef roasted and mince pies; only my wife, brother, and Barker, and plenty of good wine of my own, and my heart full of true joy; and thanks to God Almighty for the goodness of my condition at this day. After dinner, I begun to teach my wife and Barker my song, “It is decreed,” which pleases me mightily as now I have Mr. Hinxton’s base.3147 Then out and walked alone on foot to the Temple, it being a fine frost, thinking to have seen a play all alone; but there, missing of any bills, concluded there was none, and so back home; and there with my brother reducing the names of all my books to an alphabet, which kept us till 7 or 8 at night, and then to supper, W. Hewer with us, and pretty merry, and then to my chamber to enter this day’s journal only, and then to bed. My head a little thoughtful how to behave myself in the business of the victualling, which I think will be prudence to offer my service in doing something in passing the pursers’ accounts, thereby to serve the King, get honour to myself, and confirm me in my place in the victualling, which at present yields not work enough to deserve my wages.
. Up, and walked all the way (it being a most fine frost), to Whitehall, to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and thence with him up to the Duke of York, where among other things at our meeting I did offer my assistance to Sir J. Minnes to do the business of his office, relating to the Pursers’ accounts, which was well accepted by the Duke of York, and I think I have and shall do myself good in it, if it be taken, for it will confirm me in the business of the victualling office, which I do now very little for. Thence home, carrying a barrel of oysters with me. Anon comes Mr. John Andrews and his wife by invitation from Bow to dine with me, and young Batelier and his wife with her great belly, which has spoiled her looks mightily already. Here was also Mercer and Creed, whom I met coming home, who tells me of a most bitter lampoone now out against the Court and the management of State from head to foot, mighty witty and mighty severe. By and by to dinner, a very good one, and merry. After dinner I put the women into a coach, and they to the Duke’s house, to a play which was acted, The ⸻. It was indifferently done, but was not pleased with the song, Gosnell not singing, but a new wench, that sings naughtily. Thence home, all by coach, and there Mr. Andrews to the viol, who plays most excellently on it, which I did not know before. Then to dance, here being Pembleton come, by my wife’s direction, and a fiddler; and we got, also, the elder Batelier tonight, and Nan Wright, and mighty merry we were, and I danced; and so till twelve at night, and to supper, and then to cross purposes, mighty merry, and then to bed, my eyes being sore. Creed lay here in Barker’s bed.
. Up; and called up by the King’s trumpets, which cost me 10s. So to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon, by invitation, my wife, who had not been there these ten months, I think, and I, to meet all our families at Sir W. Batten’s at dinner, whither neither a great dinner for so much company nor anything good or handsome. In the middle of dinner I rose, and my wife, and by coach to the King’s playhouse, and meeting Creed took him up, and there saw The Scornful Lady well acted; Doll Common3148 doing Abigail most excellently, and Knipp the widow very well, and will be an excellent actor, I think. In other parts the play not so well done as used to be, by the old actors. Anon to Whitehall by coach, thinking to have seen a play there tonight, but found it a mistake, so back again, and missed our coach[man], who was gone, thinking to come time enough three hours hence, and we could not blame him. So forced to get another coach, and all three home to my house, and there to Sir W. Batten’s, and eat a bit of cold chine of beef, and then stayed and talked, and then home and sat and talked a little by the fireside with my wife and Creed, and so to bed, my left eye being very sore. No business public or private minded all these two days. This day a house or two was blown up with powder in the Minories, and several people spoiled, and many dug out from under the rubbish.
. Up, and Creed and I walked (a very fine walk in the frost) to my Lord Bellasses, but missing him did find him at Whitehall, and there spoke with him about some Tangier business. That done, we to Creed’s lodgings, which are very pretty, but he is going from them. So we to Lincoln’s Inne Fields, he to Ned Pickering’s, who it seems lives there, keeping a good house, and I to my Lord Crew’s, where I dined, and hear the news how my Lord’s brother, Mr. Nathaniel Crew, hath an estate of 6 or £700 per annum, left him by the death of an old acquaintance of his, but not akin to him at all. And this man is dead without will, but had, above ten years since, made over his estate to this Mr. Crew, to him and his heirs forever, and given Mr. Crew the keeping of the deeds in his own hand all this time; by which, if he would, he might have taken present possession of the estate, for he knew what they were. This is as great an act of confident friendship as this latter age, I believe, can show. From hence to the Duke’s house, and there saw Macbeth most excellently acted, and a most excellent play for variety. I had sent for my wife to meet me there, who did come, and after the play was done, I out so soon to meet her at the other door that I left my cloake in the playhouse, and while I returned to get it, she was gone out and missed me, and with W. Hewer away home. I not sorry for it much did go to Whitehall, and got my Lord Bellasses to get me into the playhouse; and there, after all staying above an hour for the players, the King and all waiting, which was absurd, saw Henry the Fifth well done by the Duke’s people, and in most excellent habits, all new vests, being put on but this night. But I sat so high and far off, that I missed most of the words, and sat with a wind coming into my back and neck, which did much trouble me. The play continued till twelve at night; and then up, and a most horrid cold night it was, and frosty, and moonshine. But the worst was, I had left my cloak at Sir G. Carteret’s, and they being abed I was forced to go home without it. So by chance got a coach and to the Golden Lion Tavern in the Strand, and there drank some mulled sack, and so home, where find my poor wife staying for me, and then to bed mighty cold.
. Up, called up with news from Sir W. Batten that Hogg3149 hath brought in two prizes more: and so I thither, and hear the particulars, which are good; one of them, if prize, being worth £4,000: for which God be thanked! Then to the office, and have the news brought us of Captain Robinson’s3150 coming with his fleet from Gottenburgh: dispersed, though, by foul weather. But he hath light of five Dutch men-of-war, and taken three, whereof one is sunk; which is very good news to close up the year with, and most of our merchantmen already heard of to be safely come home, though after long lookings-for, and now to several ports, as they could make them. At noon home to dinner, where Balty is and now well recovered. Then to the office to do business, and at night, it being very cold, home to my chamber, and there late writing, but my left eye still very sore. I write by spectacles all this night, then to supper and to bed. This day’s good news making me very lively, only the arrears of much business on my hands and my accounts to be settled for the whole year past do lie as a weight on my mind.
. Lay long, however up and to church, where Mills made a good sermon. Here was a collection for the sexton; but it come into my head why we should be more bold in making the collection while the psalm is singing, than in the sermon or prayer. Home, and, without any strangers, to dinner, and then all the afternoon and evening in my chamber preparing all my accounts in good condition against tomorrow, to state them for the whole year past, to which God give me a good issue when I come to close them! So to supper and to bed.
. Rising this day with a full design to mind nothing else but to make up my accounts for the year past, I did take money, and walk forth to several places in the town as far as the New Exchange, to pay all my debts, it being still a very great frost and good walking. I stayed at the Fleece Tavern in Covent Garden while my boy Tom went to W. Joyce’s to pay what I owed for candles there. Thence to the New Exchange to clear my wife’s score, and so going back again I met Doll Lane (Mrs. Martin’s sister), with another young woman of the Hall, one Scott, and took them to the Half Moon Tavern and there drank some burnt wine with them, without more pleasure, and so away home by coach, and there to dinner, and then to my accounts, wherein, at last, I find them clear and right; but, to my great discontent, do find that my gettings this year have been £573 less than my last: it being this year in all but £2,986; whereas, the last, I got £3,560. And then again my spendings this year have exceeded my spendings the last by £644: my whole spendings last year being but £509; whereas this year, it appears, I have spent £1,154, which is a sum not fit to be said that ever I should spend in one year, before I am master of a better estate than I am. Yet, blessed be God! and I pray God make me thankful for it, I do find myself worth in money, all good, above £6,200; which is above £1,800 more than I was the last year. This, I trust in God, will make me thankful for what I have, and careful to make up by care next year what by my negligence and prodigality I have lost and spent this year. The doing of this, and entering of it fair, with the sorting of all my expenses, to see how and in what points I have exceeded, did make it late work, till my eyes become very sore and ill, and then did give over, and supper, and to bed. Thus ends this year of public wonder and mischief to this nation, and, therefore, generally wished by all people to have an end. Myself and family well, having four maids and one clerk, Tom, in my house, and my brother, now with me, to spend time in order to his preferment. Our healths all well, only my eyes with overworking them are sore as candlelight comes to them, and not else; public matters in a most sad condition; seamen discouraged for want of pay, and are become not to be governed: nor, as matters are now, can any fleet go out next year. Our enemies, French and Dutch, great, and grow more by our poverty. The Parliament backward in raising, because jealous of the spending of the money; the City less and less likely to be built again, everybody settling elsewhere, and nobody encouraged to trade. A sad, vicious, negligent Court, and all sober men there fearful of the ruin of the whole kingdom this next year; from which, good God deliver us! One thing I reckon remarkable in my own condition is, that I am come to abound in good plate, so as at all entertainments to be served wholly with silver plates, having two dozen and a half.
January 1666–67
. Lay long, being a bitter, cold, frosty day, the frost being now grown old, and the Thames covered with ice. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy. At noon to the ’Change a little, where Mr. James Houblon and I walked a good while speaking of our ill condition in not being able to set out a fleet (we doubt) this year, and the certain ill effect that must bring, which is lamentable. Home to dinner, where the best powdered goose that ever I eat. Then to the office again, and to Sir W. Batten’s to examine the Commission going down to Portsmouth to examine witnesses about our prizes, of which God give a good issue! and then to the office again, where late, and so home, my eyes sore. To supper and to bed.
. Up, I, and walked to Whitehall to attend the Duke of York, as usual. My wife up, and with Mrs. Penn to walk in the fields to frostbite themselves. I find the Court full of great apprehensions of the French, who have certainly shipped landsmen, great numbers, at Brest; and most of our people here guess his design for Ireland. We have orders to send all the ships we can possible to the Downs. God have mercy on us! for we can send forth no ships without men, nor will men go without money, every day bringing us news of new mutinies among the seamen; so that our condition is like to be very miserable. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there met all the Houblons, who do laugh at this discourse of the French, and say they are verily of opinion it is nothing but to send to their plantation in the West Indies, and that we at Court do blow up a design of invading us, only to make the Parliament make more haste in the money matters, and perhaps it may be so, but I do not believe we have any such plot in our heads. After them, I, with several people, among others Mr. George Montagu, whom I have not seen long, he mighty kind. He tells me all is like to go ill, the King displeasing the House of Commons by evading their Bill for examining Accounts, and putting it into a Commission, though therein he hath left out Coventry and ⸻,3151 and named all the rest the Parliament named, and all country Lords, not one Courtier: this do not please them. He tells me he finds the enmity almost over for my Lord Sandwich, and that now all is upon the Vice-Chamberlain, who bears up well and stands upon his vindication, which he seems to like well, and the others do construe well also. Thence up to the Painted Chamber, and there heard a conference between the House of Lords and Commons about the Wine Patent; which I was exceeding glad to be at, because of my hearing exceeding good discourses, but especially from the Commons; among others, Mr. Swinfen,3152 and a young man, one Sir Thomas Meres:3153 and do outdo the Lords infinitely. So down to the Hall and to the Rose Tavern, while Doll Lane come to me, and we did biber a good deal de vino, et je did give elle twelve soldis para comprare elle some gans for a new anno’s gift. … Thence to the Hall again, and with Sir W. Penn by coach to the Temple, and there ’light and eat a bit at an ordinary by, and then alone to the King’s House, and there saw The Custome of the Country,3154 the second time of its being acted, wherein Knipp does the Widow well; but, of all the plays that ever I did see, the worst-having neither plot, language, nor anything in the earth that is acceptable; only Knipp sings a little song admirably. But fully the worst play that ever I saw or I believe shall see. So away home, much displeased for the loss of so much time, and disobliging my wife by being there without her. So, by link, walked home, it being mighty cold but dry, yet bad walking because very slippery with the frost and treading. Home and to my chamber to set down my journal, and then to thinking upon establishing my vows against the next year, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon by invitation to dinner to Sir W. Penn’s, where my Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Batten, and his lady, myself, and wife, Sir J. Minnes, and Mr. Turner and his wife. Indifferent merry, to which I contributed the most, but a mean dinner, and in a mean manner. In the evening a little to the office, and then to them, where I found them at cards, myself very ill with a cold (the frost continuing hard), so eat but little at supper, but very merry, and late home to bed, not much pleased with the manner of our entertainment, though to myself more civil than to any. This day, I hear, hath been a conference between the two Houses about the Bill for examining Accounts, wherein the House of Lords their proceedings in petitioning the King for doing it by Commission is, in great heat, voted by the Commons, after the conference, unparliamentary. The issue whereof, God knows.
. Up, and seeing things put in order for a dinner at my house today, I to the office awhile, and about noon home, and there saw all things in good order. Anon comes our company; my Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Penn, his lady, and Pegg, and her servant, Mr. Lowther,3155 my Lady Batten (Sir W. Batten being forced to dine at Sir R. Ford’s, being invited), Mr. Turner and his wife. Here I had good room for ten, and no more would my table have held well, had Sir J. Minnes, who was fallen lame, and his sister, and niece, and Sir W. Batten come, which was a great content to me to be without them. I did make them all gaze to see themselves served so nobly in plate, and a neat dinner, indeed, though but of seven dishes. Mighty merry I was and made them all, and they mightily pleased. My Lord Brouncker went away after dinner to the ticket-office, the rest stayed, only my Lady Batten home, her ague-fit coming on her at table. The rest merry, and to cards, and then to sing and talk, and at night to sup, and then to cards; and, last of all, to have a flagon of ale and apples, drunk out of a wood cup,3156 as a Christmas draught, made all merry; and they full of admiration at my plate, particularly my flagons (which, indeed, are noble), and so late home, all with great mirth and satisfaction to them, as I thought, and to myself to see all I have and do so much outdo for neatness and plenty anything done by any of them. They gone, I to bed, much pleased, and do observe Mr. Lowther to be a pretty gentleman, and, I think, too good for Peg; and, by the way, Peg Penn seems mightily to be kind to me, and I believe by her father’s advice, who is also himself so; but I believe not a little troubled to see my plenty, and was much troubled to hear the song I sung, “The New Droll”3157—it touching him home. So to bed.
. At the office all the morning, thinking at noon to have been taken home, and my wife (according to appointment yesterday), by my Lord Brouncker, to dinner and then to a play, but he had forgot it, at which I was glad, being glad of avoyding the occasion of inviting him again, and being forced to invite his doxy, Mrs. Williams. So home, and took a small snap of victuals, and away, with my wife, to the Duke’s house, and there saw Mustapha, a most excellent play for words and design as ever I did see. I had seen it before but forgot it, so it was wholly new to me, which is the pleasure of my not committing these things to my memory. Home, and a little to the office, and then to bed, where I lay with much pain in my head most of the night, and very unquiet, partly by my drinking before I went out too great a draught of sack, and partly my eyes being still very sore.
. Up pretty well in the morning, and then to church, where a dull doctor, a stranger, made a dull sermon. Then home, and Betty Michell and her husband come by invitation to dine with us, and, she I find the same as ever (which I was afraid of the contrary) … Here come also Mr. Howe to dine with me, and we had a good dinner and good merry discourse with much pleasure, I enjoying myself mightily to have friends at my table. After dinner young Michell and I, it being an excellent frosty day to walk, did walk out, he showing me the baker’s house in Pudding Lane,3158 where the late great fire begun; and thence all along Thames Street, where I did view several places, and so up by London Wall, by Blackfriars, to Ludgate; and thence to Bridewell, which I find to have been heretofore an extraordinary good house, and a fine coming to it, before the house by the bridge3159 was built; and so to look about St. Bride’s church and my father’s house, and so walked home, and there supped together, and then Michell and Betty home, and I to my closet, there to read and agree upon my vows for next year, and so to bed and slept mighty well.
. Lay long in bed. Then up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon (my wife being gone to Westminster) I with my Lord Brouncker by coach as far as the Temple, in the way he telling me that my Lady Denham is at last dead. Some suspect her poisoned, but it will be best known when her body is opened, which will be today, she dying yesterday morning. The Duke of York is troubled for her; but hath declared he will never have another public mistress again; which I shall be glad of, and would the King would do the like. He tells me how the Parliament is grown so jealous of the King’s being unfair to them in the business of the Bill for examining Accounts, Irish Bill, and the business of the Papists, that they will not pass the business for money till they see themselves secure that those Bills will pass; which they do observe the Court to keep off till all the Bills come together, that the King may accept what he pleases, and what he pleases to reject, which will undo all our business and the kingdom too. He tells me how Mr. Henry Howard, of Norfolke, hath given our Royal Society all his grandfather’s library:3160 which noble gift they value at £1,000; and gives them accommodation to meet in at his house, Arundell House, they being now disturbed at Gresham College. Thence ’lighting at the Temple to the ordinary hard by and eat a bit of meat, and then by coach to fetch my wife from her brother’s, and thence to the Duke’s house, and saw Macbeth, which, though I saw it lately, yet appears a most excellent play in all respects, but especially in divertisement, though it be a deep tragedy; which is a strange perfection in a tragedy, it being most proper here, and suitable. So home, it being the last play now I am to see till a fortnight hence, I being from the last night entered into my vowes for the year coming on. Here I met with the good news of Hogg’s bringing in two prizes more to Plymouth, which if they prove but any part of them, I hope, at least, we shall be no losers by them. So home from the office, to write over fair my vowes for this year, and then to supper, and to bed. In great peace of mind having now done it, and brought myself into order again and a resolution of keeping it, and having entered my journal to this night, so to bed, my eyes failing me with writing.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where my uncle Thomas with me to receive his quarterage. He tells me his son Thomas is set up in Smithfield, where he hath a shop—I suppose, a booth. Presently after dinner to the office, and there set close to my business and did a great deal before night, and am resolved to stand to it, having been a truant too long. At night to Sir W. Batten’s to consider some things about our prizes, and then to other talk, and among other things he tells me that he hears for certain that Sir W. Coventry hath resigned to the King his place of Commissioner of the Navy,3161 the thing he hath often told me that he had a mind to do, but I am surprised to think that he hath done it, and am full of thoughts all this evening after I heard it what may be the consequences of it to me. So home and to supper, and then saw the catalogue of my books, which my brother had wrote out, now perfectly alphabeticall, and so to bed. Sir Richard Ford did this evening at Sir W. Batten’s tell us that upon opening the body of my Lady Denham3162 it is said that they found a vessel about her matrix which had never been broke by her husband, that caused all pains in her body. Which if true is excellent invention to clear both the Duchess from poison or the Duke from lying with her.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn in a hackney-coach to Whitehall, the way being most horribly bad upon the breaking up of the frost, so as not to be passed almost. There did our usual [business] with the Duke of York, and here I do hear, by my Lord Brouncker, that for certain Sir W. Coventry hath resigned his place of Commissioner; which I believe he hath done upon good grounds of security to himself, from all the blame which must attend our office this next year; but I fear the King will suffer by it. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there to the conference of the Houses about the word “Nuisance,”3163 which the Commons would have, and the Lords will not, in the Irish Bill. The Commons do it professedly to prevent the King’s dispensing with it; which Sir Robert Howard and others did expressly repeat often: viz., “the King nor any King ever could do anything which was hurtful to their people.” Now the Lords did argue, that it was an ill precedent, and that which will ever hereafter be used as a way of preventing the King’s dispensation with acts; and therefore rather advise to pass the Bill without that word, and let it go, accompanied with a petition, to the King, that he will not dispense with it; this being a more civil way to the King. They answered well, that this do imply that the King should pass their Bill, and yet with design to dispense with it; which is to suppose the King guilty of abusing them. And more, they produce precedents for it; namely, that against new buildings and about leather, wherein the word “Nuisance” is used to the purpose: and further, that they do not rob the King of any right he ever had, for he never had a power to do hurt to his people, nor would exercise it; and therefore there is no danger, in the passing this Bill, of imposing on his prerogative; and concluded, that they think they ought to do this, so as the people may really have the benefit of it when it is passed, for never any people could expect so reasonably to be indulged something from a King, they having already given him so much money, and are likely to give more. Thus they broke up, both adhering to their opinions; but the Commons seemed much more full of judgment and reason than the Lords. Then the Commons made their Report to the Lords of their vote, that their Lordships’ proceedings in the Bill for examining Accounts were unparliamentary; they having, while a Bill was sent up to them from the Commons about the business, petitioned his Majesty that he would do the same thing by his Commission. They did give their reasons: viz., that it had no precedent; that the King ought not to be informed of anything passing in the Houses till it comes to a Bill; that it will wholly break off all correspondence between the two Houses, and in the issue wholly infringe the very use and being of Parliaments. Having left their arguments with the Lords they all broke up, and I by coach to the ordinary by the Temple, and there dined alone on a rabbit, and read a book I brought home from Mrs. Michell’s, of the proceedings of the Parliament in the 3rd and 4th year of the late King, a very good book for speeches and for arguments of law.3164 Thence to Faythorne, and bought a head or two; one of them my Lord of Ormond’s, the best I ever saw, and then to Arundell House, where first the Royal Society meet,3165 by the favour of Mr. Harry Howard, who was there, and has given us his grandfather’s library, a noble gift, and a noble favour and undertaking it is for him to make his house the seat for this college. Here was an experiment shown about improving the use of powder for creating of force in winding up of springs and other uses of great worth. And here was a great meeting of worthy noble persons; but my Lord Brouncker, who pretended to make a congratulatory speech upon their coming hither, and in thanks to Mr. Howard, do it in the worst manner in the world, being the worst speaker, so as I do wonder at his parts and the unhappiness of his speaking. Thence home by coach and to the office, and then home to supper, Mercer and her sister there, and to cards, and then to bed. Mr. Cowling did this day in the House-lobby tell me of the many complaints among people against Mr. Townsend in the Wardrobe, and advises me to think of my Lord Sandwich’s concernment there under his care. He did also tell me upon my demanding it, that he do believe there are some things on foot for a peace between France and us, but that we shall be foiled in it.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon home and, there being business to do in the afternoon, took my Lord Brouncker home with me, who dined with me. His discourse and mine about the bad performances of the Controller’s and Surveyor’s places by the hands they are now in, and the shame to the service and loss the King suffers by it. Then after dinner to the office, where we and some of the chief of the Trinity House met to examine the occasion of the loss of The Prince Royal,3166 the master and mates being examined, which I took and keep, and so broke up, and I to my letters by the post, and so home and to supper with my mind at pretty good ease, being entered upon minding my business, and so to bed. This noon Mrs. Burroughs come to me about business, whom I did baiser. …
. Up, being troubled at my being found abed a-days by all sorts of people, I having got a trick of sitting up later than I need, never supping, or very seldom, before 12 at night. Then to the office, there busy all the morning, and among other things comes Sir W. Warren and walked with me awhile, whose discourse I love, he being a very wise man and full of good counsel, and his own practices for wisdom much to be observed, and among other things he tells me how he is fallen in with my Lord Brouncker, who has promised him most particular inward friendship and yet not to appear at the board to do so, and he tells me how my Lord Brouncker should take notice of the two flagons3167 he saw at my house at dinner, at my late feast, and merrily, yet I know enviously, said, I could not come honestly by them. This I am glad to hear, though vexed to see his ignoble soul, but I shall beware of him, and yet it is fit he should see I am no mean fellow, but can live in the world, and have something. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office with my people and very busy, and did dispatch to my great satisfaction abundance of business, and do resolve, by the grace of God, to stick to it till I have cleared my heart of most things wherein I am in arrear in public and private matters. At night, home to supper and to bed. This day ill news of my father’s being very ill of his old grief the rupture, which troubles me.
. Up, still lying long in bed; then to the office, where sat very long. Then home to dinner, and so to the office again, mighty busy, and did to the joy of my soul dispatch much business, which do make my heart light, and will enable me to recover all the ground I have lost (if I have by my late minding my pleasures lost any) and assert myself. So home to supper, and then to read a little in Moore’s Antidote Against Atheisme,3168 a pretty book, and so to bed.
. Up, and to church, where young Lowther3169 come to church with Sir W. Penn and his Lady and daughter, and my wife tells me that either they are married or the match is quite perfected, which I am apt to believe, because all the peoples’ eyes in the church were much fixed upon them. At noon sent for Mercer, who dined with us, and very merry, and so I, after dinner, walked to the Old Swan, thinking to have got a boat to Whitehall, but could not, nor was there anybody at home at Michell’s, where I thought to have sat with her. … So home, to church, a dull sermon, and then home at my chamber all the evening. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy getting beforehand with my business as fast as I can. At noon home to dinner, and presently afterward at my office again. I understand my father is pretty well again, blessed be God! and would have my Br[other] John come down to him for a little while. Busy till night, pleasing myself mightily to see what a deal of business goes off of a man’s hands when he stays by it, and then, at night, before it was late (yet much business done) home to supper, discourse with my wife, and to bed. Sir W. Batten tells me the Lords do agree at last with the Commons about the word “Nuisance” in the Irish Bill,3170 and do desire a good correspondence between the two Houses; and that the King do intend to prorogue them the last of this month.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. Here my Lord Brouncker would have made me promise to go with him to a play this afternoon, where Knipp acts Mrs. Weaver’s great part in The Indian Emperour,3171 and he says is coming on to be a great actor. But I am so fell to my business, that I, though against my inclination, will not go. At noon, dined with my wife and were pleasant, and then to the office, where I got Mrs. Burroughs sola cum ego, and did toucher ses mamelles. … She gone, I to my business and did much, and among other things tonight we were all mightily troubled how to prevent the sale of a great deal of hemp, and timber-deals, and other good goods tomorrow at the candle by the Prize Office, where it will be sold for little, and we shall be found to want the same goods and buy at extraordinary prices, and perhaps the very same goods now sold, which is a most horrid evil and a shame. At night home to supper and to bed with my mind mighty light to see the fruits of my diligence in having my business go off my hand so merrily.
. Up, and by coach to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York as usual. Here Sir W. Coventry come to me aside in the Duke’s chamber, to tell that he had not answered part of a late letter of mine, because littera scripta manet. About his leaving the office, he tells me, [it is] because he finds that his business at Court will not permit him to attend it; and then he confesses that he seldom of late could come from it with satisfaction, and therefore would not take the King’s money for nothing. I professed my sorrow for it, and prayed the continuance of his favour; which he promised. I do believe he hath [done] like a very wise man in reference to himself; but I doubt it will prove ill for the King, and for the office. Prince Rupert, I hear today, is very ill; yesterday given over, but better today. This day, before the Duke of York, the business of the Muster-Masters was reported, and Balty found the best of the whole number, so as the Duke enquired who he was, and whether he was a stranger by his two names, both strange, and offered that he and one more, who hath done next best, should have not only their own, but part of the others’ salary, but that I having said he was my brother-in-law, he did stop, but they two are ordered their pay, which I am glad of, and some of the rest will lose their pay, and others be laid by the heels. I was very glad of this being ended so well. I did also, this morning, move in a business wherein Mr. Hater hath concerned me, about getting a ship, laden with salt from France, permitted to unload, coming in after the King’s declaration was out, which I have hopes by some dexterity to get done. Then with the Duke of York to the King, to receive his commands for stopping the sale this day of some prize-goods at the Prize-Office, goods fit for the Navy; and received the King’s commands, and carried them to the Lords’ House, to my Lord Ashly, who was angry much thereat, and I am sorry it fell to me to carry the order, but I cannot help it. So, against his will, he signed a note I writ to the Commissioners of Prizes, which I carried and delivered to Kingdone,3172 at their new office in Aldersgate Street. Thence a little to the Exchange, where it was hot that the Prince was dead, but I did rectify it. So home to dinner, and found Balty, told him the good news, and then after dinner away, I presently to Whitehall, and did give the Duke of York a memorial of the salt business, against the Council, and did wait all the Council for answer, walking a good while with Sir Stephen Fox, who, among other things, told me his whole mystery in the business of the interest he pays as Treasurer for the Army. They give him 12d. per pound quite through the Army, with condition to be paid weekly. This he undertakes upon his own private credit, and to be paid by the King at the end of every four months. If the King pay him not at the end of the four months, then, for all the time he stays longer, my Lord Treasurer, by agreement, allows him eight percent per annum for the forbearance. So that, in fine, he hath about twelve percent from the King and the Army, for fifteen or sixteen months’ interest; out of which he gains soundly, his expense being about £130,000 per annum; and hath no trouble in it, compared, as I told him, to the trouble I must have to bring in an account of interest. I was, however, glad of being thus enlightened, and so away to the other council door, and there got in and hear a piece of a cause, heard before the King, about a ship deserted by her fellows (who were bound mutually to defend each other), in their way to Virginy, and taken by the enemy, but it was but meanly pleaded. Then all withdrew, and by and by the Council rose, and I spoke with the Duke of York, and he told me my business was done, which I found accordingly in Sir Edward Walker’s books. And so away, mightily satisfied, to Arundell House, and there heard a little good discourse, and so home, and there to Sir W. Batten, where I heard the examinations in two of our prizes, which do make but little for us, so that I do begin to doubt their proving prize, which troubled me. So home to supper with my wife, and after supper my wife told me how she had moved to W. Hewer the business of my sister for a wife to him, which he received with mighty acknowledgements, as she says, above anything; but says he hath no intention to alter his condition: so that I am in some measure sorry she ever moved it; but I hope he will think it only come from her. So after supper a little to the office, to enter my journal, and then home to bed. Talk there is of a letter to come from Holland, desiring a place of treaty; but I do doubt it. This day I observe still, in many places, the smoking remains of the late fire: the ways mighty bad and dirty. This night Sir R. Ford told me how this day, at Christ Church Hospital, they have given a living over £200 per annum to Mr. Sanchy, my old acquaintance, which I wonder at, he commending him mightily; but am glad of it. He tells me, too, how the famous Stillingfleete3173 was a Bluecoat boy. The children at this day are provided for in the country by the House,3174 which I am glad also to hear.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office busy also till very late, my heart joyed with the effects of my following my business, by easing my head of cares, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and most of the morning finishing my entry of my journal during the late fire out of loose papers into this book, which did please me mightily when done, I, writing till my eyes were almost blind therewith to make an end of it. Then all the rest of the morning, and, after a mouthful of dinner, all the afternoon in my closet till night, sorting all my papers, which have lain unsorted for all the time we were at Greenwich during the plague, which did please me also, I drawing on to put my office into a good posture, though much is behind. This morning come Captain Cocke to me, and tells me that the King comes to the House this day to pass the poll Bill and the Irish Bill; he tells me too that, though the Faction is very froward in the House, yet all will end well there. But he says that one had got a Bill ready to present in the House against Sir W. Coventry, for selling of places, and says he is certain of it, and how he was withheld from doing it. He says, that the Vice-chamberlaine is now one of the greatest men in England again, and was he that did prevail with the King to let the Irish Bill go with the word “Nuisance.” He told me, that Sir G. Carteret’s declaration of giving double to any man that will prove that any of his people have demanded or taken anything for forwarding the payment of the wages of any man (of which he sent us a copy yesterday, which we approved of) is set up, among other places, upon the House of Lords’ door. I do not know how wisely this is done. This morning, also, there come to the office a letter from the Duke of York, commanding our payment of no wages to any of the muster-masters of the fleet the last year, but only two, my brother Balty, taking notice that he had taken pains therein, and one Ward, who, though he had not taken so much as the other, yet had done more than the rest. This I was exceeding glad of for my own sake and his. At night I, by appointment, home, where W. Batelier and his sister Mary, and the two Mercers, to play at cards and sup, and did cut our great cake lately given us by Russell: a very good one. Here very merry late. Sir W. Penn told me this night how the King did make them a very sharp speech in the House of Lords today, saying that he did expect to have had more Bills;3175 that he purposes to prorogue them on Monday come sennight; that whereas they have unjustly conceived some jealousies of his making a peace, he declares he knows of no such thing or treaty: and so left them. But with so little effect, that as soon as he come into the House, Sir W. Coventry moved, that now the King hath declared his intention of proroguing them, it would be loss of time to go on with the thing they were upon, when they were called to the King, which was the calling over the defaults of Members appearing in the House; for that, before any person could now come or be brought to town, the House would be up. Yet the Faction did desire to delay time, and contend so as to come to a division of the House; where, however, it was carried, by a few voices, that the debate should be laid by. But this shows that they are not pleased, or that they have not any awe over them from the King’s displeasure. The company being gone, to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. Sir W. Batten tells me to my wonder that at his coming to my Lord Ashly, yesterday morning, to tell him what prize-goods he would have saved for the Navy, and not sold, according to the King’s order on the 17th, he fell quite out with him in high terms; and he says, too, that they did go on to the sale yesterday, even of the very hemp, and other things, at which I am astonished, and will never wonder at the ruin of the King’s affairs, if this be suffered. At noon dined, and Mr. Pierce come to see me, he newly come from keeping his Christmas in the country. So to the office, where very busy, but with great pleasure till late at night, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and down to the Old Swan, there called on Michell and his wife, which in her night linen appeared as pretty almost as ever to my thinking I saw woman. Here I drank some burnt brandy. They showed me their house, which, poor people, they have built, and is very pretty. I invited them to dine with me, and so away to Whitehall to Sir W. Coventry, with whom I have not been alone a good while, and very kind he is, and tells me how the business is now ordered by order of council for my Lord Brouncker to assist Sir J. Minnes in all matters of accounts relating to the Treasurer, and Sir W. Penn in all matters relating to the victuallers’ and pursers’ accounts, which I am very glad of, and the more for that I think it will not do me any hurt at all. Other discourse, much especially about the heat the House was in yesterday about the ill management of the Navy, which I was sorry to hear; though I think they were well answered, both by Sir G. Carteret and [Sir] W. Coventry, as he informs me the substance of their speeches. Having done with him, home mightily satisfied with my being with him, and coming home I to church, and there, beyond expectation, find our seat, and all the church crammed, by twice as many people as used to be: and to my great joy find Mr. Frampton3176 in the pulpit; so to my great joy I hear him preach, and I think the best sermon, for goodness and oratory, without affectation or study, that ever I heard in my life. The truth is, he preaches the most like an apostle that ever I heard man; and it was much the best time that ever I spent in my life at church. His text, Ecclesiastes xi, verse 8th—the words, “But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all, yet let him remember the days of darkness, for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity.” He done, I home, and there Michell and his wife, and we dined and mighty merry, I mightily taken more and more with her. After dinner I with my brother away by water to Whitehall, and there walked in the Park, and a little to my Lord Chancellor’s, where the King and Cabinet met, and there met Mr. Brisband, with whom good discourse, to Whitehall towards night, and there he did lend me The Third Advice to a Paynter, a bitter satyre upon the service of the Duke of Albemarle the last year.3177 I took it home with me, and will copy it, having the former, being also mightily pleased with it. So after reading it, I to Sir W. Penn to discourse a little with him about the business of our prizes, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and with, Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, [Sir] R. Ford, by coach to the Swede’s Resident’s3178 in the Piatza, to discourse with him about two of our prizes, wherein he puts in his concernment as for his countrymen. We had no satisfaction, nor did give him any, but I find him a cunning fellow. He lives in one of the great houses there, but ill-furnished; and come to us out of bed in his furred mittens and furred cap. Thence to Exeter House to the Doctors Commons, and there with our Proctors to Dr. Walker, who was not very well, but, however, did hear our matters, and after a dull seeming hearing of them read, did discourse most understandingly of them, as well as ever I heard man, telling us all our grounds of pretence to the prize would do no good, and made it appear but thus, and thus, it may be, but yet did give us but little reason to expect it would prove, which troubled us, but I was mightily taken to hear his manner of discourse. Thence with them to Westminster Hall, they setting me down at Whitehall, where I missed of finding Sir G. Carteret, up to the Lords’ House, and there come mighty seasonably to hear the Solicitor about my Lord Buckingham’s pretence to the title of Lord Rosse.3179 Mr. Attorney Montagu3180 is also a good man, and so is old Sir P. Ball;3181 but the Solicitor3182 and Scroggs3183 after him are excellent men. Here spoke with my Lord Bellasses about getting some money for Tangier, which he doubts we shall not be able to do out of the Poll Bill, it being so strictly tied for the Navy. He tells me the Lords have passed the Bill for the accounts with some little amendments. So down to the Hall, and thence with our company to Exeter House, and then did the business I have said before, we doing nothing the first time of going, it being too early. At home find Lovett, to whom I did give my Lady Castlemayne’s head to do. He is talking of going into Spain to get money by his art, but I doubt he will do no good, he being a man of an unsettled head. Thence by water down to Deptford, the first time I have been by water a great while, and there did some little business and walked home, and there come into my company three drunken seamen, but one especially, who told me such stories, calling me Captain, as made me mighty merry, and they would leap and skip, and kiss what maids they met all the way. I did at first give them money to drink, lest they should know who I was, and so become troublesome to me. Parted at Redriffe, and there home and to the office, where did much business, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, where [Sir] W. Penn, [Sir] R. Ford, and I to hear a proposition [Sir] R. Ford was to acquaint us with from the Swedes Embassador, in manner of saying, that for money he might be got to our side and relinquish the trouble he may give us. Sir W. Penn did make a long simple declaration of his resolution to give nothing to deceive any poor man of what was his right by law, but ended in doing whatever anybody else would, and we did commission Sir R. Ford to give promise of not beyond £350 to him and his Secretary, in case they did not oppose us in the Phoenix (the net profits of which, as [Sir] R. Ford cast up before us, the Admiral’s tenths, and ship’s thirds, and other charges all cleared, will amount to £3,000) and that we did gain her. [Sir] R. Ford did pray for a curse upon his family, if he was privy to anything more than he told us (which I believe he is a knave in), yet we all concluded him the most fit man for it and very honest, and so left it wholly to him to manage as he pleased. Thence to the office a little while longer, and so home, where W. Hewer’s mother was, and Mrs. Turner, our neighbour, and supped with us. His mother a well-favoured old little woman, and a good woman, I believe. After we had supped, and merry, we parted late, Mrs. Turner having stayed behind to talk a little about her lodgings, which now my Lord Brouncker upon Sir W. Coventry’s surrendering do claim, but I cannot think he will come to live in them so as to need to put them out. She gone, we to bed all. This night, at supper, comes from Sir W. Coventry the Order of Councill3184 for my Lord Brouncker to do all the Comptroller’s part relating to the Treasurer’s accounts, and Sir W. Penn, all relating to the Victualler’s, and Sir J. Minnes to do the rest. This, I hope, will do much better for the King than now, and, I think, will give neither of them ground to overtop me, as I feared they would; which pleases me mightily. This evening, Mr. Wren and Captain Cocke called upon me at the office, and there told me how the House was in better temper today, and hath passed the Bill for the remainder of the money, but not to be passed finally till they have done some other things which they will have passed with it; wherein they are very open, what their meaning is, which was but doubted before, for they do in all respects doubt the King’s pleasing them.
. Up, and there come to me Darnell the fiddler, one of the Duke’s house, and brought me a set of lessons, all three parts, I heard them play to the Duke of York after Christmas at his lodgings, and bid him get me them. I did give him a crown for them, and did enquire after the music of the Siege of Rhodes, which, he tells me, he can get me, which I am mighty glad of. So to the office, where among other things I read the Councill’s order about my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn to be assistants to the Comptroller, which quietly went down with Sir J. Minnes, poor man, seeming a little as if he would be thought to have desired it, but yet apparently to his discontent; and, I fear, as the order runs, it will hardly do much good. At noon to dinner, and there comes a letter from Mrs. Pierce, telling me she will come and dine with us on Thursday next, with some of the players, Knipp, etc., which I was glad of, but my wife vexed, which vexed me; but I seemed merry, but know not how to order the matter, whether they shall come or no. After dinner to the office, and there late doing much business, and so home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York, and did our usual business. Having done there, I to St. James’s, to see the organ Mrs. Turner told me of the other night, of my late Lord Aubigney’s; and I took my Lord Brouncker with me, he being acquainted with my present Lord Almoner, Mr. Howard,3185 brother to the Duke of Norfolke; so he and I thither and did see the organ, but I do not like it, it being but a bauble, with a virginall joining to it: so I shall not meddle with it. Here we sat and talked with him a good while, and he seems a good-natured gentleman: here I observed the deske which he hath, [made] to remove, and is fastened to one of the armes of his chair. I do also observe the counterfeit windows there was, in the form of doors with looking-glasses instead of windows, which makes the room seem both bigger and lighter, I think; and I have some thoughts to have the like in one of my rooms. He discoursed much of the goodness of the music in Rome, but could not tell me how long music had been in any perfection in that church, which I would be glad to know. He speaks much of the great buildings that this Pope,3186 whom, in mirth to us, he calls Antichrist, hath done in his time. Having done with the discourse, we away, and my Lord and I walking into the Park back again, I did observe the new buildings: and my Lord, seeing I had a desire to see them, they being the place for the priests and fryers, he took me back to my Lord Almoner; and he took us quite through the whole house and chapel, and the new monastery, showing me most excellent pieces in wax-worke: a crucifix given by a Pope to Mary Queen of Scotts, where a piece of the Cross is;3187 two bits set in the manner of a cross in the foot of the crucifix: several fine pictures, but especially very good prints of holy pictures. I saw the dortoire3188 and the cells of the priests, and we went into one; a very pretty little room, very clean, hung with pictures, set with books. The Priest was in his cell, with his hair clothes to his skin, barelegged, with a sandall only on, and his little bed without sheets, and no feather bed; but yet, I thought, soft enough. His cord about his middle; but in so good company, living with ease, I thought it a very good life. A pretty library they have. And I was in the refectoire, where every man his napkin, knife, cup of earth, and basin of the same; and a place for one to sit and read while the rest are at meals. And into the kitchen I went, where a good neck of mutton at the fire, and other victuals boiling. I do not think they fared very hard. Their windows all looking into a fine garden and the Park; and mighty pretty rooms all. I wished myself one of the Capuchins. Having seen what we could here, and all with mighty pleasure, so away with the Almoner in his coach, talking merrily about the difference in our religions, to Whitehall, and there we left him. I in my Lord Brouncker’s coach, he carried me to the Savoy, and there we parted. I to the Castle Tavern, where was and did come all our company, Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, [Sir] R. Ford, and our Counsel Sir Ellis Layton, Walt Walker,3189 Dr. Budd, Mr. Holder, and several others, and here we had a bad dinner of our preparing, and did discourse something of our business of our prizes, which was the work of the day. I stayed till dinner was over, and there being no use of me I away after dinner without taking leave, and to the New Exchange, there to take up my wife and Mercer, and to Temple Bar to the Ordinary, and had a dish of meat for them, they having not dined, and thence to the King’s house, and there saw The Humerous Lieutenant, a silly play, I think; only the Spirit in it that grows very tall, and then sinks again to nothing, having two heads breeding upon one, and then Knipp’s singing, did please us. Here, in a box above, we spied Mrs. Pierce; and, going out, they called us, and so we stayed for them; and Knipp took us all in, and brought to us Nelly,3190 a most pretty woman, who acted the great part of Coelia today very fine, and did it pretty well: I kissed her, and so did my wife; and a mighty pretty soul she is. We also saw Mrs. Hall,3191 which is my little Roman-nose black girl, that is mighty pretty: she is usually called Betty. Knipp made us stay in a box and see the dancing preparatory to tomorrow for The Goblins, a play of Suckling’s,3192 not acted these twenty-five years; which was pretty; and so away thence, pleased with this sight also, and specially kissing of Nell. We away, Mr. Pierce and I, on foot to his house, the women by coach. In our way we find the Guards of horse in the street, and hear the occasion to be news that the seamen are in a mutiny, which put me into a great fright; so away with my wife and Mercer home preparing against tomorrow night to have Mrs. Pierce and Knipp and a great deal more company to dance; and, when I come home, hear of no disturbance there of the seamen, but that one of them, being arrested today, others do go and rescue him. So to the office a little, and then home to supper, and to my chamber awhile, and then to bed.
. Up, and to the office, full of thoughts how to order the business of our merry meeting tonight. So to the office, where busy all the morning. [While we were sitting in the morning at the office, we were frighted with news of fire at Sir W. Batten’s by a chimney taking fire, and it put me into much fear and trouble, but with a great many hands and pains it was soon stopped.]3193 At noon home to dinner, and presently to the office to despatch my business, and also we sat all the afternoon to examine the loss of The Bredagh,3194 which was done by as plain negligence as ever ship was. We being rose, I entering my letters and getting the office swept and a good fire made and abundance of candles lighted, I home, where most of my company come of this end of the town—Mercer and her sister, Mr. Batelier and Pembleton (my Lady Penn, and Pegg, and Mr. Lowther, but did not stay long, and I believe it was by Sir W. Penn’s order; for they had a great mind to have stayed), and also Captain Rolt. And, anon, at about seven or eight o’clock, comes Mr. Harris,3195 of the Duke’s playhouse, and brings Mrs. Pierce with him, and also one dressed like a country-maid with a straw hat on; which, at first, I could not tell who it was, though I expected Knipp: but it was she coming off the stage just as she acted this day in The Goblins; a merry jade. Now my house is full, and four fiddlers that play well. Harris I first took to my closet; and I find him a very curious and understanding person in all pictures and other things, and a man of fine conversation; and so is Rolt. So away with all my company down to the office, and there fell to dancing, and continued at it an hour or two, there coming Mrs. Anne Jones, a merchant’s daughter hard by, who dances well, and all in mighty good humour, and danced with great pleasure; and then sung and then danced, and then sung many things of three voices—both Harris and Rolt singing their parts excellently. Among other things, Harris sung his Irish song—the strangest in itself, and the prettiest sung by him, that ever I heard. Then to supper in the office, a cold, good supper, and wondrous merry. Here was Mrs. Turner also, but the poor woman sad about her lodgings, and Mrs. Markham: after supper to dancing again and singing, and so continued till almost three in the morning, and then, with extraordinary pleasure, broke up only towards morning, Knipp fell a little ill, and so my wife home with her to put her to bed, and we continued dancing and singing; and, among other things, our Mercer unexpectedly did happen to sing an Italian song I know not, of which they two sung the other two parts to, that did almost ravish me, and made me in love with her more than ever with her singing. As late as it was, yet Rolt and Harris would go home tonight, and walked it, though I had a bed for them; and it proved dark, and a misly night, and very windy. The company being all gone to their homes, I up with Mrs. Pierce to Knipp, who was in bed; and we waked her, and there I handled her breasts and did baiser la, and sing a song, lying by her on the bed, and then left my wife to see Mrs. Pierce in bed to her, in our best chamber, and so to bed myself, my mind mightily satisfied with all this evening’s work, and thinking it to be one of the merriest enjoyment I must look for in the world, and did content myself therefore with the thoughts of it, and so to bed; only the music did not please me, they not being contented with less than 30s.
. Lay pretty long, then to the office, where Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes and I did meet, and sat private all the morning about dividing the Controller’s work according to the late order of Council, between them two and Sir W. Penn, and it troubled me to see the poor honest man, Sir J. Minnes, troubled at it, and yet the King’s work cannot be done without it. It was at last friendlily ended, and so up and home to dinner with my wife. This afternoon I saw the Poll Bill, now printed; wherein I do fear I shall be very deeply concerned, being to be taxed for all my offices, and then for my money that I have, and my title, as well as my head. It is a very great tax; but yet I do think it is so perplexed, it will hardly ever be collected duly. The late invention of Sir G. Downing’s is continued of bringing all the money into the Exchequer; and Sir G. Carteret’s three pence is turned for all the money of this act into but a penny per pound, which I am sorry for. After dinner to the office again, where Lord Brouncker, [Sir] W. Batten, and [Sir] W. Penn and I met to talk again about the Controller’s office, and there [Sir] W. Penn would have a piece of the great office cut out to make an office for him, which I opposed to the making him very angry, but I think I shall carry it against him, and then I care not. So a little troubled at this fray, I away by coach with my wife, and left her at the New Exchange, and I to my Lord Chancellor’s, and then back, taking up my wife to my Lord Bellasses, and there spoke with Mr. Moone, who tells me that the peace between us and Spain is, as he hears, concluded on, which I should be glad of, and so home, and after a little at my office, home to finish my journal for yesterday and today, and then a little supper and to bed. This day the House hath passed the Bill for the Assessment, which I am glad of; and also our little Bill, for giving any one of us in the office the power of justice of peace, is done as I would have it.
. Up, and at the office. Sat all the morning, where among other things I did the first unkind [thing] that ever I did design to Sir W. Warren, but I did it now to some purpose, to make him sensible how little any man’s friendship shall avail him if he wants money. I perceive he do nowadays court much my Lord Brouncker’s favour, who never did any man much courtesy at the board, nor ever will be able, at least so much as myself. Besides, my Lord would do him a kindness in concurrence with me, but he would have the danger of the thing to be done lie upon me, if there be any danger in it (in drawing up a letter to Sir W. Warren’s advantage), which I do not like, nor will endure. I was, I confess, very angry, and will venture the loss of Sir W. Warren’s kindnesses rather than he shall have any man’s friendship in greater esteem than mine. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner to the office again, and there all the afternoon, and at night poor Mrs. Turner come and walked in the garden for my advice about her husband and her relating to my Lord Brouncker’s late proceedings with them. I do give her the best I can, but yet can lay aside some ends of my own in what advice I do give her. So she being gone I to make an end of my letters, and so home to supper and to bed, Balty lodging here with my brother, he being newly returned from mustering in the river.
. Up betimes, and leaving my wife to go by coach to hear Mr. Frampton preach, which I had a mighty desire she should, I down to the Old Swan, and there to Michell and stayed while he and she dressed themselves, and here had a baiser or two of her, whom I love mightily; and then took them in a sculler (being by some means or other disappointed of my own boat) to Whitehall, and so with them to Westminster, Sir W. Coventry, Brouncker and I all the morning together discoursing of the office business, and glad of the Controller’s business being likely to be put into better order than formerly, and did discourse of many good things, but especially of having something done to bringing the Surveyor’s matters into order also. Thence I up to the King’s closet, and there heard a good Anthem, and discoursed with several people here about business, among others with Lord Bellasses, and so from one to another after sermon till the King had almost dined, and then home with Sir G. Carteret and dined with him, being mightily ashamed of my not having seen my Lady Jemimah so long, and my wife not at all yet since she come, but she shall soon do it. I thence to Sir Philip Warwicke, by appointment, to meet Lord Bellasses, and up to his chamber, but find him unwilling to discourse of business on Sundays; so did not enlarge, but took leave, and went down and sat in a low room, reading Erasmus “De Scribendis Epistolis,”3196 a very good book, especially one letter of advice to a courtier most true and good, which made me once resolve to tear out the two leaves that it was writ in, but I forebore it. By and by comes Lord Bellasses, and then he and I up again to Sir P. Warwicke and had much discourse of our Tangier business, but no hopes of getting any money. Thence I through the garden into the Park, and there met with Roger Pepys, and he and I to walk in the Pell Mell. I find by him that the House of Parliament continues full of ill humours, and he seems to dislike those that are troublesome more than needs, and do say how, in their late Poll Bill, which cost so much time, the yeomanry, and indeed two-thirds of the nation, are left out to be taxed, that there is not effectual provision enough made for collecting of the money; and then, that after a man his goods are distrained and sold, and the overplus returned, I am to have ten days to make my complaints of being overrated if there be cause, when my goods are sold, and that is too late. These things they are resolved to look into again, and mend them before they rise, which they expect at furthest on Thursday next. Here we met with Mr. May,3197 and he and we to talk of several things, of building, and suchlike matters; and so walked to Whitehall, and there I showed my cousin Roger the Duchess of York sitting in state, while her own mother stands by her; he had a desire, and I showed him my Lady Castlemayne, whom he approves to be very handsome, and wonders that she cannot be as good within as she is fair without. Her little black boy came by him; and, a dog being in his way, the little boy called to the dog: “Pox of this dog!”—“Now,” says he, blessing himself, “would I whip this child till the blood come, if it were my child!” and I believe he would. But he do by no means like the liberty of the Court, and did come with expectation of finding them playing at cards tonight, though Sunday; for such stories he is told, but how true I know not.3198 After walking up and down the Court with him, it being now dark and past six at night, I walked to the Swan in the Palace yard and there with much ado did get a waterman, and so I sent for the Michells, and they come, and their father Howlett and his wife with them, and there we drank, and so into the boat, poor Betty’s head aching. We home by water, a fine moonshine and warm night, it having been also a very summer’s day for warmth. I did get her hand to me under my cloak. … So there we parted at their house, and he walked almost home with me, and then I home and to supper, and to read a little and to bed. My wife tells me Mr. Frampton3199 is gone to sea, and so she lost her labour today in thinking to hear him preach, which I am sorry for.
. Up, and down to the Old Swan, and there drank at Michell’s and saw Betty, and so took boat and to the Temple, and thence to my tailor’s and other places about business in my way to Westminster, where I spent the morning at the Lords’ House door, to hear the conference between the two Houses about my Lord Mordaunt, of which there was great expectation, many hundreds of people coming to hear it. But, when they come, the Lords did insist upon my Lord Mordaunt’s having leave to sit upon a stool uncovered within their burr, and that he should have counsel, which the Commons would not suffer, but desired leave to report their Lordships’ resolution to the House of Commons; and so parted for this day, which troubled me, I having by this means lost the whole day. Here I hear from Mr. Hayes that Prince Rupert is very bad still, and so bad, that he do now yield to be trepanned. It seems, as Dr. Clerke also tells me, it is a clap of the pox which he got about twelve years ago, and hath eaten to his head and come through his scull, so his scull must be opened, and there is great fear of him. Much work I find there is to do in the two Houses in a little time, and much difference there is between the two Houses in many things to be reconciled; as in the Bill for examining our accounts; Lord Mordaunt’s Bill for building the City, and several others. A little before noon I went to the Swan and eat a bit of meat, thinking I should have had occasion to have stayed long at the house, but I did not, but so home by coach, calling at Broad Street and taking the goldsmith home with me, and paid him £15 15s. for my silver standish. He tells me gold holds up its price still, and did desire me to let him have what old 20s. pieces I have, and he would give me 3s. 2d. change for each. He gone, I to the office, where business all the afternoon, and at night comes Mr. Gawden at my desire to me, and tomorrow I shall pay him some money, and shall see what present he will make me, the hopes of which do make me to part with my money out of my chest, which I should not otherwise do, but lest this alteration in the Controller’s office should occasion my losing my concernment in the Victualling, and so he have no more need of me. He gone, I to the office again, having come thence home with him to talk, and so after a little more business I to supper. I then sent for Mercer, and began to teach her “It is decreed,” which will please me well, and so after supper and reading a little, and my wife’s cutting off my hair short, which is grown too long upon my crown of my head, I to bed. I met this day in Westminster Hall Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn, and the latter since our falling out the other day do look mighty reservedly upon me, and still he shall do so for me, for I will be hanged before I seek to him, unless I see I need it.
. Up to the office all the morning, where Sir W. Penn and I look much askewe one upon another, though afterward business made us speak friendly enough, but yet we hate one another. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office, where all the afternoon expecting Mr. Gawden to come for some money I am to pay him, but he comes not, which makes me think he is considering whether it be necessary to make the present he hath promised, it being possible this alteration in the Controller’s duty may make my place in the Victualling unnecessary, so that I am a little troubled at it. Busy till late at night at the office, and Sir W. Batten come to me, and tells me that there is news upon the Exchange today, that my Lord Sandwich’s coach and the French Embassador’s at Madrid, meeting and contending for the way, they shot my Lord’s postilion and another man dead;3200 and that we have killed 25 of theirs, and that my Lord is well. How true this is I cannot tell, there being no news of it at all at Court, as I am told late by one come thence, so that I hope it is not so. By and by comes Mrs. Turner to me, to make her complaint of her sad usage she receives from my Lord Brouncker, that he thinks much she hath not already got another house, though he himself hath employed her night and day ever since his first mention of the matter, to make part of her house ready for him, as he ordered, and promised she should stay till she had fitted herself; by which and what discourse I do remember he had of the business before Sir W. Coventry on Sunday last I perceive he is a rotten-hearted, false man as any else I know, even as Sir W. Penn himself, and, therefore, I must beware of him accordingly, and I hope I shall. I did pity the woman with all my heart, and gave her the best council I could; and so, falling to other discourse, I made her laugh and merry, as sad as she came to me; so that I perceive no passion in a woman can be lasting long;3201 and so parted and I home, and there teaching my girl Barker part of my song “It is decreed,” which she will sing prettily, and so after supper to bed.
. Fast-day for the King’s death. I all the morning at my chamber making up my month’s accounts, which I did before dinner to my thorough content, and find myself but a small gainer this month, having no manner of profits, but just my salary, but, blessed be God! that I am able to save out of that, living as I do. So to dinner, then to my chamber all the afternoon, and in the evening my wife and I and Mercer and Barker to little Michell’s, walked, with some neats’ tongues and cake and wine, and there sat with the little couple with great pleasure, and talked and eat and drank, and saw their little house, which is very pretty; and I much pleased therewith, and so walked home, about eight at night, it being a little moonshine and fair weather, and so into the garden, and, with Mercer, sang till my wife put me in mind of its being a fast day; and so I was sorry for it, and stopped, and home to cards awhile, and had opportunity para baiser Mercer several times, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we met and sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and by and by Mr. Osborne3202 comes from Mr. Gawden, and takes money and notes for £4,000, and leaves me acknowledgment for £4,000 and odd; implying as if D. Gawden would give the £800 between Povy and myself, but how he will divide it I know not, till I speak with him, so that my content is not yet full in the business. In the evening stepped out to Sir Robert Viner’s to get the money ready upon my notes to D. Gawden, and there hear that Mr. Temple is very ill. I met on the ’Change with Captain Cocke, who tells me that he hears new certainty of the business of Madrid, how our Embassador and the French met, and says that two or three of my Lord’s men, and twenty one of the French men are killed, but nothing at Court of it. He fears the next year’s service through the badness of our counsels at Whitehall, but that if they were wise, and the King would mind his business, he might do what he would yet. The Parliament is not yet up, being finishing some bills. So home and to the office, and late home to supper, and to talk with my wife, with pleasure, and to bed. I met this evening at Sir R. Viner’s our Mr. Turner, who I find in a melancholy condition about his being removed out of his house, but I find him so silly and so false that I dare not tell how to trust any advice to him, and therefore did speak only generally to him, but I doubt his condition is very miserable, and do pity his family. Thus the month ends: myself in very good health and content of mind in my family. All our heads full in the office at this dividing of the Comptroller’s duty, so that I am in some doubt how it may prove to intrench upon my benefits, but it cannot be much. The Parliament, upon breaking up, having given the King money with much ado, and great heats, and neither side pleased, neither King nor them. The imperfection of the Poll Bill, which must be mended before they rise, there being several horrible oversights to the prejudice of the King, is a certain sign of the care anybody hath of the King’s business. Prince Rupert very ill, and to be trepanned on Saturday next. Nobody knows who commands the fleet next year, or, indeed, whether we shall have a fleet or no. Great preparations in Holland and France, and the French have lately taken Antego3203 from us, which vexes us. I am in a little care through my at last putting a great deal of money out of my hands again into the King’s upon tallies for Tangier, but the interest which I wholly lost while in my trunk is a temptation while things look safe, as they do in some measure for six months, I think, and I would venture but little longer.
February 1666–67
. Up, and to the office, where I was all the morning doing business, at noon home to dinner, and after dinner down by water, though it was a thick misty and rainy day, and walked to Deptford from Redriffe, and there to Bagwell’s by appointment, where the mulier etoit within expecting me venir. … By and by su marido come in, and there without any notice taken by him we discoursed of our business of getting him the new ship building by Mr. Deane, which I shall do for him. Thence by and by after a little talk I to the yard, and spoke with some of the officers, but stayed but little, and the new clerk of the ’Chequer, Fownes, did walk to Redriffe back with me. I perceive he is a very child, and is led by the nose by Cowly and his kinsman that was his clerk, but I did make him understand his duty, and put both understanding and spirit into him, so that I hope he will do well. [Much surprised to hear this day at Deptford that Mrs. Batters is going already to be married to him, that is now the Captain of her husband’s ship. She seemed the most passionate mourner in the world. But I believe it cannot be true.]3204 Thence by water to Billingsgate; thence to the Old Swan, and there took boat, it being now night, to Westminster Hall, there to the Hall, and find Doll Lane, and con elle I went to the Bell Tavern, and ibi je did do what I would con elle as well as I could, she sedendo sobre thus far and making some little resistance. But all with much content, and je tenai much pleasure cum ista. There parted, and I by coach home, and to the office, where pretty late doing business, and then home, and merry with my wife, and to supper. My brother and I did play with the base, and I upon my violin, which I have not seen out of the case now I think these three years, or more, having lost the key, and now forced to find an expedient to open it. Then to bed.
. Up, and to the office. This day I hear that Prince Rupert is to be trepanned. God give good issue to it. Sir W. Penn looks upon me, and I on him, and speak about business together at the table well enough, but no friendship or intimacy since our late difference about his closet, nor do I desire to have any. At noon dined well, and my brother and I to write over once more with my own hand my catalogue of books, while he reads to me. After something of that done, and dined, I to the office, where all the afternoon till night busy. At night, having done all my office matters, I home, and my brother and I to go on with my catalogue, and so to supper. Mrs. Turner come to me this night again to condole her condition and the ill usage she receives from my Lord Brouncker, which I could never have expected from him, and shall be a good caution to me while I live. She gone, I to supper, and then to read a little, and to bed. This night comes home my new silver snuffe-dish, which I do give myself for my closet, which is all I purpose to bestow in plate of myself, or shall need, many a day, if I can keep what I have. So to bed. I am very well pleased this night with reading a poem I brought home with me last night from Westminster Hall, of Dryden’s3205 upon the present war; a very good poem.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn to Whitehall, and there to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there stayed till he was ready, talking, and among other things of the Prince’s being trepanned, which was in doing just as we passed through the Stone Gallery, we asking at the door of his lodgings, and were told so. We are all full of wishes for the good success; though I dare say but few do really concern ourselves for him in our hearts. Up to the Duke of York, and with him did our business we come about, and among other things resolve upon a meeting at the office tomorrow morning, Sir W. Coventry to be there to determine of all things necessary for the setting of Sir W. Penn to work in his Victualling business. This did awake in me some thoughts of what might in discourse fall out touching my employment, and did give me some apprehension of trouble. Having done here, and after our laying our necessities for money open to the Duke of York, but nothing obtained concerning it, we parted, and I with others into the House, and there hear that the work is done to the Prince3206 in a few minutes without any pain at all to him, he not knowing when it was done. It was performed by Moulins.3207 Having cut the outward table, as they call corrupted, so as it come out without any force; and their fear is, that the whole inside of his head is corrupted3208 like that, which do yet make them afeard of him; but no ill accident appeared in the doing of the thing, but all with all imaginable success, as Sir Alexander Frazier did tell me himself, I asking him, who is very kind to me. I to the Chapel a little, but hearing nothing did take a turn into the Park, and then back to Chapel and heard a very good Anthem to my heart’s delight, and then to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner, and before dinner did walk with him alone a good while, and from him hear our case likely for all these acts to be bad for money, which troubles me, the year speeding so fast, and he tells me that he believes the Duke of York will go to sea with the fleet, which I am sorry for in respect to his person, but yet there is no person in condition to command the fleet, now the Captains are grown so great, but him, it being impossible for anybody else but him to command any order or discipline among them. He tells me there is nothing at all in the late discourse about my Lord Sandwich and the French Embassador meeting and contending for the way, which I wonder at, to see the confidence of report without any ground. By and by to dinner, where very good company. Among other discourse, we talked much of Nostradamus3209 his prophecy of these times, and the burning of the City of London,3210 some of whose verses are put into Booker’s3211Almanac this year; and Sir G. Carteret did tell a story, how at his death he did make the town swear that he should never be dug up, or his tomb opened, after he was buried; but they did after sixty years do it, and upon his breast they found a plate of brasse, saying what a wicked and unfaithful people the people of that place were, who after so many vows should disturb and open him such a day and year and hour; which, if true, is very strange. Then we fell to talking of the burning of the City; and my Lady Carteret herself did tell us how abundance of pieces of burnt papers were cast by the wind as far as Cranborne;3212 and among others she took up one, or had one brought her to see, which was a little bit of paper that had been printed, whereon there remained no more nor less than these words: “Time is, it is done.”3213 After dinner I went and took a turn into the Park, and then took boat and away home, and there to my chamber and to read, but did receive some letters from Sir W. Coventry, touching the want of victuals to Kempthorne’s3214 fleet going to the Streights and now in the Downs: which did trouble me, he saying that this disappointment might prove fatal; and the more, because Sir W. Coventry do intend to come to the office upon business tomorrow morning, and I shall not know what answer to give him. This did mightily trouble my mind; however, I fell to read a little in Hakewill’s Apology,3215 and did satisfy myself mighty fair in the truth of the saying that the world do not grow old at all, but is in as good condition in all respects as ever it was as to nature. I continued reading this book with great pleasure till supper, and then to bed sooner than ordinary, for rising betimes in the morning tomorrow. So after reading my usual vows to bed, my mind full of trouble against tomorrow, and did not sleep any good time of the night for thoughts of tomorrow morning’s trouble.
. I up, with my head troubled to think of the issue of this morning, so made ready and to the office, where Mr. Gawden comes, and he and I discoursed the business well, and thinks I shall get off well enough; but I do by Sir W. Coventry’s silence conclude that he is not satisfied in my management of my place and the charge it puts the King to, which I confess I am not in present condition through my late laziness to give any good answer to. But here do D. Gawden give me a good cordiall this morning, by telling me that he do give me five of the eight hundred pounds on his account remaining in my hands to myself, for the service I do him in my victualling business, and £100 for my particular share of the profits of my Tangier employment as Treasurer. This do begin to make my heart glad, and I did dissemble it the better, so when Sir W. Coventry did come, and the rest met, I did appear unconcerned, and did give him answer pretty satisfactory what he asked me; so that I did get off this meeting without any ground lost, but rather a great deal gained by interposing that which did belong to my duty to do, and neither [Sir] W. Coventry nor [Sir] W. Penn did oppose anything thereunto, which did make my heart very glad. All the morning at this work, Sir W. Penn making a great deal of do for the fitting him in his setting out in his employment, and I do yield to any trouble that he gives me without any contradiction. Sir W. Coventry being gone, we at noon to dinner to Sir W. Penn’s, he inviting me and my wife, and there a pretty good dinner, intended indeed for Sir W. Coventry, but he would not stay. So here I was mighty merry and all our differences seemingly blown over, though he knows, if he be not a fool, that I love him not, and I do the like that he hates me. Soon as dined, my wife and I out to the Duke’s playhouse, and there saw Heraclius,3216 an excellent play, to my extraordinary content; and the more from the house being very full, and great company; among others, Mrs. Steward, very fine, with her locks done up with puffes, as my wife calls them: and several other great ladies had their hair so, though I do not like it; but my wife do mightily—but it is only because she sees it is the fashion. Here I saw my Lord Rochester and his lady, Mrs. Mallet, who hath after all this ado married him; and, as I hear some say in the pit, it is a great act of charity, for he hath no estate. But it was pleasant to see how everybody rose up when my Lord John Butler, the Duke of Ormond’s son,3217 come into the pit towards the end of the play, who was a servant to Mrs. Mallet,3218 and now smiled upon her, and she on him. I had sitting next to me a woman, the likest my Lady Castlemayne that ever I saw anybody like another; but she is a whore, I believe, for she is acquainted with every fine fellow, and called them by their name, Jacke, and Tom, and before the end of the play frisked to another place. Mightily pleased with the play, we home by coach, and there a little to the office, and then to my chamber, and there finished my Catalogue of my books with my own hand, and so to supper and to bed, and had a good night’s rest, the last night’s being troublesome, but now my heart light and full of resolution of standing close to my business.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning doing business, and then home to dinner. Heard this morning that the Prince is much better, and hath good rest. All the talk is that my Lord Sandwich hath perfected the peace with Spain, which is very good, if true. Sir H. Cholmly was with me this morning, and told me of my Lord Bellasses’s base dealings with him by getting him to give him great gratuities to near £2,000 for his friendship in the business of the Mole, and hath been lately underhand endeavouring to bring another man into his place as Governor, so as to receive his money of Sir H. Cholmly for nothing. Dined at home, and after dinner come Mrs. Daniel and her sister and stayed and talked a little, and then I to the office, and after setting my things in order at the office I abroad with my wife and little Betty Michell, and took them against my vowes, but I will make good my forfeit, to the King’s house, to show them a play, The Chances.3219 A good play I find it, and the actors most good in it; and pretty to hear Knipp sing in the play very properly, “All night I weepe;”3220 and sung it admirably. The whole play pleases me well: and most of all, the sight of many fine ladies—among others, my Lady Castlemayne and Mrs. Middleton: the latter of the two hath also a very excellent face and body, I think. Thence by coach to the New Exchange, and there laid out money, and I did give Betty Michell two pair of gloves and a dressing-box; and so home in the dark, over the ruins, with a link. I was troubled with my pain, having got a bruise on my right testicle, I know not how. But this I did make good use of to make my wife shift sides with me, and I did come to sit avec Betty Michell, and there had her main, which elle did give me very frankly now, and did hazer whatever I voudrais avec la, which did plaisir me grandement, and so set her at home with my mind mighty glad of what I have prevailed for so far; and so home, and to the office, and did my business there, and then home to supper, and after to set some things right in my chamber, and so to bed. This morning, before I went to the office, there come to me Mr. Young and Whistler, flagmakers, and with mighty earnestness did present me with, and press me to take a box, wherein I could not guess there was less than £100 in gold: but I do wholly refuse it, and did not at last take it. The truth is, not thinking them safe men to receive such a gratuity from, nor knowing any considerable courtesy that ever I did do them, but desirous to keep myself free from their reports, and to have it in my power to say I had refused their offer.
. Up, lying a little long in bed, and by water to Whitehall, and there find the Duke of York gone out, he being in haste to go to the Parliament, and so all my Brethren were gone to the office too. So I to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s about my Tangier business, and then to Westminster Hall, and walked up and down, and hear that the Prince do still rest well by day and night, and out of pain; so as great hopes are conceived of him: though I did meet Dr. Clerke and Mr. Pierce, and they do say they believe he will not recover it, they supposing that his whole head within is eaten by this corruption, which appeared in this piece of the inner table. Up to the Parliament door, and there discoursed with Roger Pepys, who goes out of town this week, the Parliament rising this week also. So down to the Hall and there spied Betty Michell, and so I sent for burnt wine to Mrs. Michell’s, and there did drink with the two mothers, and by that means with Betty, poor girl, whom I love with all my heart. And God forgive me, it did make me stay longer and hover all the morning up and down the Hall to busquer occasions para ambulare con elle. But ego ne pouvoir. So home by water and to dinner, and then to the office, where we sat upon Denis Gawden’s accounts, and before night I rose and by water to Whitehall, to attend the Council; but they sat not today. So to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and find him within, and with a letter from the Downs in his hands, telling the loss of the St. Patricke coming from Harwich in her way to Portsmouth; and would needs chase two ships (she having the Malago fire-ship in company) which from English colours put up Dutch, and he would clap on board the Vice-Admiral; and after long dispute the Admiral comes on the other side of him, and both together took him. Our fire-ship (Seely)3221 not coming in to fire all three, but come away, leaving her in their possession, and carried away by them: a ship3222 built at Bristoll the last year, of fifty guns and upwards, and a most excellent good ship. This made him very melancholy. I to talk of our wants of money, but I do find that he is not pleased with that discourse, but grieves to hear it, and do seem to think that Sir G. Carteret do not mind the getting of money with the same good cheer that he did heretofore, nor do I think he hath the same reason. Thence to Westminster Hall, thinking to see Betty Michell, she staying there all night, and had hopes to get her out alone, but missed, and so away by coach home, and to Sir W. Batten’s, to tell him my bad news, and then to the office, and home to supper, where Mrs. Hewer was, and after supper and she gone, W. Hewer talking with me very late of the ill manner of Sir G. Carteret’s accounts being kept, and in what a sad condition he would be if either Fenn or Wayth should break or die, and am resolved to take some time to tell Sir G. Carteret or my Lady of it, I do love them so well and their family. So to bed, my pain pretty well gone.
. Lay long with pleasure with my wife, and then up and to the office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, and before dinner I went into my green dining room, and there talking with my brother upon matters relating to his journey to Brampton tomorrow, and giving him good counsel about spending the time when he shall stay in the country with my father, I looking another way heard him fall down, and turned my head, and he was fallen down all along upon the ground dead, which did put me into a great fright; and, to see my brotherly love! I did presently lift him up from the ground, he being as pale as death; and, being upon his legs, he did presently come to himself, and said he had something come into his stomach very hot. He knew not what it was, nor ever had such a fit before. I never was so frighted but once, when my wife was ill at Ware upon the road, and I did continue trembling a good while and ready to weepe to see him, he continuing mighty pale all dinner and melancholy, that I was loth to let him take his journey tomorrow; but he began to be pretty well, and after dinner my wife and Barker fell to singing, which pleased me pretty well, my wife taking mighty pains and proud that she shall come to trill, and indeed I think she will. So to the office, and there all the afternoon late doing business, and then home, and find my brother pretty well. So to write a letter to my Lady Sandwich for him to carry, I having not writ to her a great while. Then to supper and so to bed. I did this night give him 20s. for books, and as much for his pocket, and 15s. to carry him down, and so to bed. Poor fellow! he is so melancholy, and withal, my wife says, harmless, that I begin to love him, and would be loth he should not do well.
. This morning my brother John come up to my bedside, and took his leave of us, going this day to Brampton. My wife loves him mightily as one that is pretty harmless, and I do begin to fancy him from yesterday’s accident, it troubling me to think I should be left without a brother or sister, which is the first time that ever I had thoughts of that kind in my life. He gone, I up, and to the office, where we sat upon the Victuallers’ accounts all the morning. At noon Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself to the Swan in Leadenhall Street to dinner, where an exceedingly good dinner and good discourse. Sir W. Batten come this morning from the House, where the King hath prorogued this Parliament to October next. I am glad they are up. The Bill for Accounts was not offered, the party being willing to let it fall; but the King did tell them he expected it. They are parted with great heartburnings, one party against the other. Pray God bring them hereafter together in better temper! It is said that the King do intend himself in this interval to take away Lord Mordaunt’s government,3223 so as to do something to appease the House against they come together, and let them see he will do that of his own accord which is fit, without their forcing him; and that he will have his Commission for Accounts go on which will be good things. At dinner we talked much of Cromwell; all saying he was a brave fellow, and did owe his crown he got to himself as much as any man that ever got one. Thence to the office, and there begun the account which Sir W. Penn by his late employment hath examined, but begun to examine it in the old manner, a clerk to read the Petty warrants, my Lord Brouncker upon very good ground did except against it, and would not suffer him to go on. This being Sir W. Penn’s clerk he took it in snuff, and so hot they grew upon it that my Lord Brouncker left the office. He gone (Sir) W. Penn ranted like a devil, saying that nothing but ignorance could do this. I was pleased at heart all this while. At last moved to have Lord Brouncker desired to return, which he did, and I read the petty warrants all the day till late at night, that I was very weary, and troubled to have my private business of my office stopped to attend this, but mightily pleased at this falling out, and the truth is [Sir] W. Penn do make so much noise in this business of his, and do it so little and so ill, that I think the King will be little the better by changing the hand. So up and to my office a little, but being at it all day I could not do much there. So home and to supper, to teach Barker to sing another piece of my song, and then to bed.
. To the office, where we sat all the morning busy. At noon home to dinner, and then to my office again, where also busy, very busy late, and then went home and read a piece of a play, Every Man in His Humour,3224 wherein is the greatest propriety of speech that ever I read in my life: and so to bed. This noon come my wife’s watchmaker, and received £12 of me for her watch; but Captain Rolt coming to speak with me about a little business, he did judge of the work to be very good work, and so I am well contented, and he hath made very good, that I knew, to Sir W. Penn and Lady Batten.
. Up and with my wife to church, where Mr. Mills made an unnecessary sermon upon Original Sin, neither understood by himself nor the people. Home, where Michell and his wife, and also there come Mr. Carter,3225 my old acquaintance of Magdalene College, who hath not been here of many years. He hath spent his time in the North with the Bishop of Carlisle3226 much. He is grown a very comely person, and of good discourse, and one that I like very much. We had much talk of our old acquaintance of the College, concerning their various fortunes; wherein, to my joy, I met not with any that have sped better than myself. After dinner he went away, and awhile after them Michell and his wife, whom I love mightily, and then I to my chamber there to my Tangier accounts, which I had let run a little behind hand, but did settle them very well to my satisfaction, but it cost me sitting up till two in the morning, and the longer by reason that our neighbour, Mrs. Turner, poor woman, did come to take her leave of us, she being to quit her house tomorrow to my Lord Brouncker, who hath used her very unhandsomely. She is going to lodgings, and do tell me very odde stories how Mrs. Williams3227 do receive the applications of people, and hath presents, and she is the hand that receives all, while my Lord Brouncker do the business, which will shortly come to be loud talk if she continues here, I do foresee, and bring my Lord no great credit. So having done all my business, to bed.
. Up, and by water to the Temple, and thence to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s about my Tangier warrant for tallies, and there met my Lord Bellasses and Creed, and discoursed about our business of money, but we are defeated as to any hopes of getting [any] thing upon the Poll Bill, which I seem but not much troubled at, it not concerning me much. Thence with Creed to Westminster Hall, and there up and down, and heard that Prince Rupert is still better and better; and that he did tell Dr. Troutbecke3228 expressly that my Lord Sandwich is ordered home. I hear, too, that Prince Rupert hath begged the having of all the stolen prize-goods which he can find, and that he is looking out anew after them, which at first troubled me; but I do see it cannot come to anything, but is done by Hayes, or some of his little people about him. Here, among other news, I bought the King’s speech at proroguing the House the other day, wherein are some words which cannot but import some prospect of a peace, which God send us! After walking a good while in the Hall, it being Term time, I home by water, calling at Michell’s and giving him a fair occasion to send his wife to the New Exchange to meet my wife and me this afternoon. So home to dinner, and after dinner by coach to Lord Bellasses, and with him to Povy’s house, whom we find with Auditor Beale and Vernatty about their accounts still, which is never likely to have end. Our business was to speak with Vernatty, who is certainly a most cunning knave as ever was born. Having done what we had to do there, my Lord carried me and set me down at the New Exchange, where I stayed at Pottle’s shop till Betty Michell come, which she did about five o’clock, and was surprised not to trouver my muger I there; but I did make an excuse good enough, and so I took elle down, and over the water to the cabinetmaker’s, and there bought a dressing-box for her for 20s., but would require an hour’s time to make fit. This I was glad of, thinking to have got elle to enter to a casa de biber, but elle would not, so I did not much press it, but suffered elle to enter à lacasa de uno de sus hermanos, and so I past my time walking up and down, and among other places, to one Drumbleby, a maker of flageolets, the best in town. He not within, my design to bespeak a pair of flageolets of the same tune, ordered him to come to me in a day or two, and so I back to the cabinetmaker’s and there stayed; and by and by Betty comes, and here we stayed in the shop and above seeing the workmen work, which was pretty, and some exceeding good work, and very pleasant to see them do it, till it was late quite dark, and the mistress of the shop took us into the kitchen and there talked and used us very prettily, and took her for my wife, which I owned and her big belly, and there very merry, till my thing done, and then took coach and home … But now comes our trouble, I did begin to fear that su marido might go to my house to enquire pour elle, and there, trouvant my muger3229 at home, would not only think himself, but give my femme occasion to think strange things. This did trouble me mightily, so though elle would not seem to have me trouble myself about it, yet did agree to the stopping the coach at the street’s end, and je allois con elle home, and there presently hear by him that he had newly sent su maide to my house to see for her mistress. This do much perplex me, and I did go presently home Betty whispering me behind the tergo de her mari, that if I would say that we did come home by water, elle could make up la cose well satis, and there in a sweat did walk in the entry ante my door, thinking what I should say a my femme, and as God would have it, while I was in this case (the worst in reference a my femme that ever I was in in my life), a little woman comes stumbling to the entry steps in the dark; whom asking who she was, she enquired for my house. So knowing her voice, and telling her su donna is come home she went away. But, Lord! in what a trouble was I, when she was gone, to recollect whether this was not the second time of her coming, but at last concluding that she had not been here before, I did bless myself in my good fortune in getting home before her, and do verily believe she had loitered some time by the way, which was my great good fortune, and so I in a-doors and there find all well. So my heart full of joy, I to the office awhile, and then home, and after supper and doing a little business in my chamber I to bed, after teaching Barker a little of my song.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, with several things (among others) discoursed relating to our two new assistant controllers, but especially Sir W. Penn, who is mighty troublesome in it. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, and there did much business, and by and by comes Mr. Moore, who in discourse did almost convince me that it is necessary for my Lord Sandwich to come home and take his command at sea this year, for that a peace is like to be. Many considerations he did give me hereupon, which were very good both in reference to the public and his private condition. By and by with Lord Brouncker by coach to his house, there to hear some Italian music: and here we met Tom Killigrew, Sir Robert Murray, and the Italian Signor Baptista,3230 who hath composed a play in Italian for the Opera, which T. Killigrew do intend to have up; and here he did sing one of the acts. He himself is the poet as well as the musician; which is very much, and did sing the whole from the words without any music pricked, and played all along upon a harpsicon most admirably, and the composition most excellent. The words I did not understand, and so know not how they are fitted, but believe very well, and all in the recitativo very fine. But I perceive there is a proper accent in every country’s discourse, and that do reach in their setting of notes to words, which, therefore, cannot be natural to anybody else but them; so that I am not so much smitten with it as, it may be, I should be, if I were acquainted with their accent. But the whole composition is certainly most excellent; and the poetry, T. Killigrew and Sir R. Murray, who understood the words, did say was excellent. I confess I was mightily pleased with the music. He pretends not to voice, though it be good, but not excellent. This done, T. Killigrew and I to talk: and he tells me how the audience at his house is not above half so much as it used to be before the late fire. That Knipp is like to make the best actor that ever come upon the stage, she understanding so well: that they are going to give her £30 a-year more. That the stage is now by his pains a thousand times better and more glorious than ever heretofore. Now, wax-candles, and many of them; then, not above 3 lbs. of tallow: now, all things civil, no rudeness anywhere; then, as in a bear-garden then, two or three fiddlers; now, nine or ten of the best then, nothing but rushes upon the ground, and everything else mean; and now, all otherwise: then, the Queen seldom and the King never would come; now, not the King only for state, but all civil people do think they may come as well as any. He tells me that he hath gone several times, eight or ten times, he tells me, hence to Rome to hear good music; so much he loves it, though he never did sing or play a note. That he hath ever endeavoured in the late King’s time, and in this, to introduce good music, but he never could do it, there never having been any music here better than ballads. Nay, says, “Hermitt poore” and “Chevy Chase”3231 was all the music we had; and yet no ordinary fiddlers get so much money as ours do here, which speaks our rudeness still. That he hath gathered our Italians from several Courts in Christendome, to come to make a concert for the King, which he do give £200 a-year apiece to: but badly paid, and do come in the room of keeping four ridiculous gundilows,3232 he having got, the King to put them away, and lay out money this way; and indeed I do commend him for it, for I think it is a very noble undertaking. He do intend to have some times of the year these operas to be performed at the two present theatres, since he is defeated in what he intended in Moorefields on purpose for it; and he tells me plainly that the City audience was as good as the Court, but now they are most gone. Baptista tells me that Giacomo Charissimi3233 is still alive at Rome, who was master to Vinnecotio, who is one of the Italians that the King hath here, and the chief composer of them. My great wonder is, how this man do to keep in memory so perfectly the music of the whole act, both for the voice and the instrument too. I confess I do admire it: but in recitativo the sense much helps him, for there is but one proper way of discoursing and giving the accents. Having done our discourse, we all took coaches, my Lord’s and T. Killigrew’s, and to Mrs. Knipp’s chamber, where this Italian is to teach her to sing her part. And so we all thither, and there she did sing an Italian song or two very fine, while he played the bass upon a harpsicon there; and exceedingly taken I am with her singing, and believe that she will do miracles at that and acting. Her little girl is mighty pretty and witty. After being there an hour, and I mightily pleased with this evening’s work, we all parted, and I took coach and home, where late at my office, and then home to enter my last three days’ Journal; and so to supper and to bed, troubled at nothing, but that these pleasures do hinder me in my business, and the more by reason of our being to dine abroad tomorrow, and then Saturday next is appointed to meet again at my Lord Brouncker’s lodgings, and there to have the whole choir of Italians; but then I do consider that this is all the pleasure I live for in the world, and the greatest I can ever expect in the best of my life, and one thing more, that by hearing this man tonight, and I think Captain Cooke tomorrow, and the choir of Italians on Saturday, I shall be truly able to distinguish which of them pleases me truly best, which I do much desire to know and have good reason and fresh occasion of judging.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, where to the Duke of York, and there did our usual business; but troubled to see that, at this time, after our declaring a debt to the Parliament of £900,000, and nothing paid since, but the debt increased, and now the fleet to set out; to hear that the King hath ordered but £35,000 for the setting out of the fleet, out of the Poll Bill, to buy all provisions, when five times as much had been little enough to have done anything to purpose. They have, indeed, ordered more for paying off of seamen and the Yards to some time, but not enough for that neither. Another thing is, the acquainting the Duke of York with the case of Mr. Lanyon,3234 our agent at Plymouth, who has trusted us to £8,000 out of purse; we are not in condition, after so many promises, to obtain him a farthing, nor though a message was carried by Sir G. Carteret and Sir W. Coventry to the Commissioners for Prizes, that he might have £3,000 out of £20,000 worth of prizes to be shortly sold there, that he might buy at the candle and pay for the goods out of bills, and all would [not] do anything, but that money must go all another way, while the King’s service is undone, and those that trust him perish. These things grieve me to the heart. The Prince, I hear, is every day better and better. So away by water home, stopping at Michell’s, where Mrs. Martin was, and I there drank with them and whispered with Betty, who tells me all is well, but was prevented in something she would have said, her marido venant just then, a news which did trouble me, and so drank and parted and home, and there took up my wife by coach, and to Mrs. Pierce’s, there to take her up, and with them to Dr. Clerke’s, by invitation, where we have not been a great while, nor had any mind to go now, but that the Dr., whom I love, would have us choose a day. Here was his wife, painted, and her sister Worship, a widow now and mighty pretty in her mourning. Here was also Mr. Pierce and Mr. Floyd,3235 Secretary to the Lords Commissioners of Prizes, and Captain Cooke, to dinner, an ill and little mean one, with foul cloth and dishes, and everything poor. Discoursed most about plays and the Opera, where, among other vanities, Captain Cooke had the arrogance to say that he was fain to direct Sir W. Davenant in the breaking of his verses into such and such lengths, according as would be fit for music, and how he used to swear at Davenant, and command him that way, when W. Davenant would be angry, and find fault with this or that note—but a vain coxcomb I perceive he is, though he sings and composes so well. But what I wondered at, Dr. Clerke did say that Sir W. Davenant is no good judge of a dramatick poem, finding fault with his choice of Henry the 5th,3236 and others, for the stage, when I do think, and he confesses, The Siege of Rhodes as good as ever was writ. After dinner Captain Cooke and two of his boys to sing, but it was indeed both in performance and composition most plainly below what I heard last night, which I could not have believed. Besides overlooking the words which he sung, I find them not at all humoured as they ought to be, and as I believed he had done all he had set. Though he himself do indeed sing in a manner as to voice and manner the best I ever heard yet, and a strange mastery he hath in making of extraordinary surprising closes, that are mighty pretty, but his bragging that he do understand tones and sounds as well as any man in the world, and better than Sir W. Davenant or anybody else, I do not like by no means, but was sick of it and of him for it. He gone, Dr. Clerke fell to reading a new play, newly writ, of a friend’s of his; but, by his discourse and confession afterwards, it was his own. Some things, but very few, moderately good; but infinitely far from the conceit, wit, design, and language of very many plays that I know; so that, but for compliment, I was quite tired with hearing it. It being done, and commending the play, but against my judgment, only the prologue magnifying the happiness of our former poets when such sorry things did please the world as was then acted, was very good. So set Mrs. Pierce at home, and away ourselves home, and there to my office, and then my chamber till my eyes were sore at writing and making ready my letter and accounts for the Commissioners of Tangier tomorrow, which being done, to bed, hearing that there was a very great disorder this day at the Ticket Office, to the beating and bruising of the face of Carcasse very much. A foul evening this was tonight, and I mightily troubled to get a coach home; and, which is now my common practice, going over the ruins in the night, I rid with my sword drawn in the coach.
. Up and to the office, where Carcasse comes with his plaistered face, and called himself Sir W. Batten’s martyr, which made W. Batten mad almost, and mighty quarrelling there was. We spent the morning almost wholly upon considering some way of keeping the peace at the Ticket Office; but it is plain that the care of that office is nobody’s work, and that is it that makes it stand in the ill condition it do. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner by coach to my Lord Chancellor’s, and there a meeting: the Duke of York, Duke of Albemarle, and several other Lords of the Commission of Tangier. And there I did present a state of my accounts, and managed them well; and my Lord Chancellor did say, though he was, in other things, in an ill humour, that no man in England was of more method, nor made himself better understood than myself. But going, after the business of money was over, to other businesses, of settling the garrison, he did fling out, and so did the Duke of York, two or three severe words touching my Lord Bellasses: that he would have no Governor come away from thence in less than three years; no, though his lady were with child. “And,” says the Duke of York, “there should be no Governor continue so, longer than three years.” “Nor,” says Lord Arlington, “when our rules are once set, and upon good judgment declared, no Governor should offer to alter them.”—“We must correct the many things that are amiss there; for,” says the Lord Chancellor, “you must think we do hear of more things amisse than we are willing to speak before our friends’ faces.” My Lord Bellasses would not take notice of their reflecting on him, and did wisely, but there were also many reflections on him. Thence away by coach to Sir H. Cholmly and Fitzgerald and Creed, setting down the two latter at the New Exchange. And Sir H. Cholmly and I to the Temple, and there walked in the dark in the walks talking of news; and he surprises me with the certain news that the King did last night in Council declare his being in treaty with the Dutch: that they had sent him a very civil letter, declaring that, if nobody but themselves were concerned, they would not dispute the place of treaty, but leave it to his choice; but that, being obliged to satisfy therein a Prince of equal quality with himself, they must except any place in England or Spain. And so the King hath chosen the Hague, and thither hath chose my Lord Hollis and Harry Coventry3237 to go Embassadors to treat; which is so mean a thing, as all the world will believe, that we do go to beg a peace of them, whatever we pretend. And it seems all our Court are mightily for a peace, taking this to be the time to make one, while the King hath money, that he may save something of what the Parliament hath given him to put him out of debt, so as he may need the help of no more Parliaments, as to the point of money: but our debt is so great, and expense daily so increased, that I believe little of the money will be saved between this and the making of the peace up. But that which troubles me most is, that we have chosen a son of Secretary Morris,3238 a boy never used to any business, to go Embassador [Secretary] to the Embassy, which shows how, little we are sensible of the weight of the business upon us. God therefore give a good end to it, for I doubt it, and yet do much more doubt the issue of our continuing the war, for we are in no wise fit for it, and yet it troubles me to think what Sir H. Cholmly says, that he believes they will not give us any reparation for what we have suffered by the war, nor put us into any better condition than what we were in before the war, for that will be shameful for us. Thence parted with him and home through the dark over the ruins by coach, with my sword drawn, to the office, where dispatched some business; and so home to my chamber and to supper and to bed. This morning come up to my wife’s bedside, I being up dressing myself, little Will Mercer to be her Valentine; and brought her name writ upon blue paper in gold letters, done by himself, very pretty; and we were both well pleased with it. But I am also this year my wife’s Valentine, and it will cost me £5; but that I must have laid out if we had not been Valentines. So to bed.
. Up and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] J. Minnes by coach to Whitehall, where we attended upon the Duke of York to complain of the disorders the other day among the seamen at the Pay at the Ticket Office, and that it arises from lack of money, and that we desire, unless better provided for with money, to have nothing more to do with the payment of tickets, it being not our duty; and the Duke of York and [Sir] W. Coventry did agree to it, so that I hope we shall be rid of that trouble. This done, I moved for allowance for a house for Mr. Turner, and got it granted. Then away to Westminster Hall, and there to the Exchequer about my tallies, and so back to Whitehall, and so with Lord Bellasses to the Excise Office, where met by Sir H. Cholmly to consider about our business of money there, and that done, home and to dinner, where I hear Pegg Penn is married3239 this day privately; no friends, but two or three relations on his side and hers. Borrowed many things of my kitchen for dressing their dinner. So after dinner to the office, and there busy and did much business, and late at it. Mrs. Turner come to me to hear how matters went; I told her of our getting rent for a house for her. She did give me account of this wedding today, its being private being imputed to its being just before Lent, and so in vain to make new clothes till Easter, that they might see the fashions as they are like to be this summer; which is reason good enough. Mrs. Turner tells me she hears [Sir W. Penn] gives £4,500 or £4,000 with her. They are gone to bed, so I wish them much sport, and home to supper and to bed. They own the treaty for a peace publicly at Court, and the Commissioners providing themselves to go over as soon as a passe comes for them.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. Among other things great heat we were all in on one side or other in the examining witnesses against Mr. Carcasse about his buying of tickets, and a cunning knave I do believe he is, and will appear, though I have thought otherwise heretofore. At noon home to dinner, and there find Mr. Andrews, and Pierce and Hollyard, and they dined with us and merry, but we did rise soon for saving of my wife’s seeing a new play this afternoon, and so away by coach, and left her at Mrs. Pierce’s, myself to the Excise Office about business, and thence to the Temple to walk a little only, and then to Westminster to pass away time till anon, and here I went to Mrs. Martin’s to thank her for her oysters. … Thence away to my Lord Brouncker’s, and there was Sir Robert Murray, whom I never understood so well as now by this opportunity of discourse with him, a most excellent man of reason and learning, and understands the doctrine of music, and everything else I could discourse of, very finely. Here come Mr. Hooke, Sir George Ent, Dr. Wren, and many others; and by and by the music, that is to say, Signor Vincentio,3240 who is the master-composer, and six more, whereof two eunuches, so tall, that Sir T. Harvey said well that he believes they do grow large by being gelt as our oxen do, and one woman very well dressed and handsome enough, but would not be kissed, as Mr. Killigrew, who brought the company in, did acquaint us. They sent two harpsicons before; and by and by, after tuning them, they begun; and, I confess, very good music they made; that is, the composition exceeding good, but yet not at all more pleasing to me than what I have heard in English by Mrs. Knipp, Captain Cooke, and others. Nor do I dote on the eunuches; they sing, indeed, pretty high, and have a mellow kind of sound, but yet I have been as well satisfied with several women’s voices and men also, as Crispe of the Wardrobe. The women sung well, but that which distinguishes all is this, that in singing, the words are to be considered, and how they are fitted with notes, and then the common accent of the country is to be known and understood by the hearer, or he will never be a good judge of the vocal music of another country. So that I was not taken with this at all, neither understanding the first, nor by practice reconciled to the latter, so that their motions, and risings and fallings, though it may be pleasing to an Italian, or one that understands the tongue, yet to me it did not, but do from my heart believe that I could set words in English, and make music of them more agreeable to any Englishman’s ear (the most judicious) than any Italian music set for the voice, and performed before the same man, unless he be acquainted with the Italian accent of speech. The composition as to the music part was exceeding good, and their justness in keeping time by practice much before any that we have, unless it be a good band of practised fiddlers. So away, here being Captain Cocke, who is stole away, leaving them at it, in his coach, and to Mrs. Pierce’s, where I took up my wife, and there I find Mrs. Pierce’s little girl is my Valentine, she having drawn me; which I was not sorry for, it easing me of something more that I must have given to others. But here I do first observe the fashion of drawing of mottos as well as names; so that Pierce, who drew my wife, did draw also a motto, and this girl drew another for me. What mine was I have forgot; but my wife’s was, “Most virtuous and most fair;” which, as it may be used, or an anagram made upon each name, might be very pretty. Thence with Cocke and my wife, set him at home, and then we home. To the office, and there did a little business, troubled that I have so much been hindered by matters of pleasure from my business, but I shall recover it I hope in a little time. So home and to supper, not at all smitten with the music tonight, which I did expect should have been so extraordinary, Tom Killigrew crying it up, and so all the world, above all things in the world, and so to bed. One wonder I observed today, that there was no music in the morning to call up our new-married people, which is very mean, methinks, and is as if they had married like dog and bitch.
. Up, and called at Michell’s, and took him and his wife and carried them to Westminster, I landing at Whitehall, and having no pleasure in the way con elle; and so to the Duke’s, where we all met and had a hot encounter before the Duke of York about the business of our payments at the Ticket Office, where we urged that we had nothing to do to be troubled with the pay, having examined the tickets. Besides, we are neglected, having not money sent us in time, but to see the baseness of my brethren, not a man almost put in a word but Sir W. Coventry, though at the office like very devils in this point. But I did plainly declare that, without money, no fleet could be expected, and desired the Duke of York to take notice of it, and notice was taken of it, but I doubt will do no good. But I desire to remember it as a most prodigious thing that to this day my Lord Treasurer hath not consulted counsel, which Sir W. Coventry and I and others do think is necessary, about the late Poll act, enough to put the same into such order as that anybody dare lend money upon it, though we have from this office under our hands related the necessity thereof to the Duke of York, nor is like to be determined in, for ought I see, a good while had not Sir W. Coventry plainly said that he did believe it would be a better work for the King than going to church this morning, to send for the Attorney General to meet at the Lord Treasurer’s this afternoon and to bring the thing to an issue, saying that himself, were he going to the Sacrament, would not think he should offend God to leave it and go to the ending this work, so much it is of moment to the King and Kingdom. Hereupon the Duke of York said he would presently speak to the King, and cause it to be done this afternoon. Having done here we broke up; having done nothing almost though for all this, and by and by I met Sir G. Carteret, and he is stark mad at what has passed this morning, and I believe is heartily vexed with me: I said little, but I am sure the King will suffer if some better care be not taken than he takes to look after this business of money. So parted, and I by water home and to dinner, W. Hewer with us, a good dinner and very merry, my wife and I, and after dinner to my chamber, to fit some things against the Council anon, and that being done away to Whitehall by water, and thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, where I met with, and had much pretty discourse with, one of the Progers’s that knows me; and it was pretty to hear him tell me, of his own accord, as a matter of no shame, that in Spain he had a pretty woman, his mistress, whom, when money grew scarce with him, he was forced to leave, and afterwards heard how she and her husband lived well, she being kept by an old fryer who used her as his whore; but this, says he, is better than as our ministers do, who have wives that lay up their estates, and do no good nor relieve any poor—no, not our greatest prelates, and I think he is in the right for my part. Stayed till the Council was up, and attended the King and Duke of York round the Park, and was asked several questions by both; but I was in pain, lest they should ask me what I could not answer; as the Duke of York did the value of the hull of the St. Patrick3241 lately lost, which I told him I could not presently answer; though I might have easily furnished myself to answer all those questions. They stood a good while to see the ganders and geese tread one another in the water, the goose being all the while kept for a great while: quite under water, which was new to me, but they did make mighty sport of it, saying (as the King did often) “Now you shall see a marriage, between this and that,” which did not please me. They gone, by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, as the Duke of York told me, to settle the business of money for the navy, I walked into the Court to and again till night, and there met Colonel Reames, and he and I walked together a great while complaining of the ill-management of things, whereof he is as full as I am. We ran over many persons and things, and see nothing done like men like to do well while the King minds his pleasures so much. We did bemoan it that nobody would or had authority enough with the King to tell him how all things go to rack and will be lost. Then he and I parted, and I to Westminster to the Swan, and there stayed till Michell and his wife come. Old Michell and his wife come to see me, and there we drank and laughed a little, and then the young ones and I took boat, it being fine moonshine. I did to my trouble see all the way that elle did get as close a su marido as elle could, and turn her mains away quand je did endeavour to take one. … So that I had no pleasure at all con elle ce night. When we landed I did take occasion to send him back à the bateau while I did get a baiser or two, and would have taken la by la hand, but elle did turn away, and quand I said shall I not toucher to answered ego no love touching, in a slight mood. I seemed not to take notice of it, but parted kindly; su marido did alter with me almost a my case, and there we parted, and so I home troubled at this, but I think I shall make good use of it and mind my business more. At home, by appointment, comes Captain Cocke to me, to talk of State matters, and about the peace; who told me that the whole business is managed between Kevet, Burgomaster of Amsterdam, and my Lord Arlington, who hath, by the interest of his wife3242 there, some interest. We have proposed the Hague, but know not yet whether the Dutch will like it; or; if they do, whether the French will. We think we shall have the help of the information of their affairs and state, and the helps of the Prince of Orange his faction; but above all, that De Witt, who hath all this while said he cannot get peace, his mouth will now be stopped, so that he will be forced to offer fit terms for fear of the people; and, lastly, if France or Spain do not please us, we are in a way presently to clap up a peace with the Dutch, and secure them. But we are also in treaty with France, as he says: but it must be to the excluding our alliance with the King of Spain or House of Austria; which we do not know presently what will be determined in. He tells me the Vice-Chamberlaine is so great with the King, that, let the Duke of York, and Sir W. Coventry, and this office, do or say what they will, while the King lives, Sir G. Carteret will do what he will; and advises me to be often with him, and eat and drink with him; and tells me that he doubts he is jealous of me, and was mighty mad today at our discourse to him before the Duke of York. But I did give him my reasons that the office is concerned to declare that, without money, the King’s work cannot go on. From that discourse we ran to others, and among the others he assures me that Henry Brouncker is one of the shrewdest fellows for parts in England, and a dangerous man; that if ever the Parliament comes again Sir W. Coventry cannot stand, but in this I believe him not; that, while we want money so much in the Navy, the Officers of the Ordnance have at this day £300,000 good in tallies, which they can command money upon, got by their overestimating their charge in getting it reckoned as a fifth part of the expense of the Navy; that Harry Coventry, who is to go upon this treaty with Lord Hollis (who he confesses to be a very wise man) into Holland, is a mighty quick, ready man, but not so weighty as he should be, he knowing him so well in his drink as he do; that, unless the King do do something against my Lord Mordaunt and the Patent for the Canary Company, before the Parliament next meets, he do believe there will be a civil war before there will be any more money given, unless it may be at their perfect disposal; and that all things are now ordered to the provoking of the Parliament against they come next, and the spending the King’s money, so as to put him into a necessity of having it at the time it is prorogued for, or sooner. Having discoursed all this and much more, he away, and I to supper and to read my vows, and to bed. My mind troubled about Betty Michell, pour sa carriage this night envers moy, but do hope it will put me upon doing my business. This evening, going to the Queen’s side3243 to see the ladies, I did find the Queen, the Duchess of York, and another or two, at cards, with the room full of great ladies and men; which I was amazed at to see on a Sunday, having not believed it; but, contrarily, flatly denied the same a little while since to my cousin Roger Pepys.3244 I did this day, going by water, read the answer to The Apology for Papists,3245 which did like me mightily, it being a thing as well writ as I think most things that ever I read in my life, and glad I am that I read it.
. Up, and to my bookbinder’s, and there mightily pleased to see some papers of the account we did give the Parliament of the expense of the Navy sewed together, which I could not have conceived before how prettily it was done. Then by coach to the Exchequer about some tallies, and thence back again home, by the way meeting Mr. Weaver,3246 of Huntingdon, and did discourse our business of law together, which did ease my mind, for I was afeard I have omitted doing what I in prudence ought to have done. So home and to dinner, and after dinner to the office, where je had Mrs. Burrows all solaà my closet, and did there baiser and toucher ses mamelles. … Thence away, and with my wife by coach to the Duke of York’s playhouse, expecting a new play, and so stayed not no more than other people, but to the King’s house, to The Maid’s Tragedy; but vexed all the while with two talking ladies and Sir Charles Sedley; yet pleased to hear their discourse, he being a stranger. And one of the ladies would, and did sit with her mask on, all the play, and, being exceeding witty as ever I heard woman, did talk most pleasantly with him; but was, I believe, a virtuous woman, and of quality. He would fain know who she was, but she would not tell; yet did give him many pleasant hints of her knowledge of him, by that means setting his brains at work to find, out who she was, and did give him leave to use all means to find out who she was, but pulling off her mask. He was mighty witty, and she also making sport with him very inoffensively, that a more pleasant rencontre I never heard. But by that means lost the pleasure of the play wholly, to which now and then Sir Charles Sedley’s exceptions against both words and pronouncing were very pretty. So home and to the office, did much business, then home, to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning doing little business, our want of money being so infinite great. At noon home, and there find old Mr. Michell and Howlett come to desire mine and my wife’s company to dinner to their son’s, and so away by coach with them, it being Betty’s wedding-day a year, as also Shrove Tuesday. Here I made myself mighty merry, the two old women being there also, and a mighty pretty dinner we had in this little house, to my exceeding great content, and my wife’s, and my heart pleased to see Betty. But I have not been so merry a very great while as with them, everything pleasing me there as much as among so mean company I could be pleased. After dinner I fell to read the Acts about the building of the City again;3247 and indeed the laws seem to be very good, and I pray God I may live to see it built in that manner! Anon with much content home, walking with my wife and her woman, and there to my office, where late doing much business, and then home to supper and to bed. This morning I hear that our discourse of peace is all in the dirt; for the Dutch will not like of the place, or at least the French will not agree to it; so that I do wonder what we shall do, for carry on the war we cannot. I long to hear the truth of it tomorrow at Court.
. Up, with Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Penn by coach to Whitehall, by the way observing Sir W. Penn’s carrying a favour to Sir W. Coventry, for his daughter’s wedding, and saying that there was others for us, when we will fetch them, which vexed me, and I am resolved not to wear it when he orders me one. His wedding hath been so poorly kept, that I am ashamed of it; for a fellow that makes such a flutter as he do. When we come to the Duke of York here, I heard discourse how Harris of his playhouse is sick, and everybody commends him, and, above all things, for acting the Cardinall. Here they talk also how the King’s violin, Bannister,3248 is mad that the King hath a Frenchman3249 come to be chief of some part of the King’s music, at which the Duke of York made great mirth. Then withdrew to his closet, all our business, lack of money and prospect of the effects of it, such as made Sir W. Coventry say publicly before us all, that he do heartily wish that his Royal Highness had nothing to do in the Navy, whatever become of him; so much dishonour, he says, is likely to fall under the management of it. The Duke of York was angry, as much as he could be, or ever I saw him, with Sir G. Carteret, for not paying the masters of some ships on Monday last, according to his promise, and I do think Sir G. Carteret will make himself unhappy by not taking some course either to borrow more money or wholly lay aside his pretence to the charge of raising money, when he hath nothing to do to trouble himself with. Thence to the Exchequer, and there find the people in readiness to dispatch my tallies today, though Ash Wednesday. So I back by coach to London to Sir Robt. Viner’s and there got £100, and come away with it and pay my fees round, and so away with the ’Chequer men to the Leg in King Street, and there had wine for them; and here was one in company with them, that was the man that got the vessel to carry over the King from Bredhemson,3250 who hath a pension of £200 per annum,3251 but ill paid, and the man is looking after getting of a prizeship to live by; but the trouble is, that this poor man, who hath received no part of his money these four years, and is ready to starve almost, must yet pay to the Poll Bill for this pension. He told me several particulars of the King’s coming thither, which was mighty pleasant, and shows how mean a thing a king is, how subject to fall, and how like other men he is in his afflictions. Thence with my tallies home, and a little dinner, and then with my wife by coach to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, sent her to her brother’s, and I with Lord Bellasses to the Lord Chancellor’s. Lord Bellasses tells me how the King of France hath caused the stop to be made to our proposition of treating in The Hague; that he being greater than they, we may better come and treat at Paris: so that God knows what will become of the peace! He tells me, too, as a grand secret, that he do believe the peace offensive and defensive between Spain and us is quite finished, but must not be known, to prevent the King of France’s present falling upon Flanders. He do believe the Duke of York will be made General of the Spanish armies there, and Governor of Flanders, if the French should come against it, and we assist the Spaniard: that we have done the Spaniard abundance of mischief in the West Indies, by our privateers at Jamaica, which they lament mightily, and I am sorry for it to have it done at this time. By and by, come to my Lord Chancellor, who heard mighty quietly my complaints for lack of money, and spoke mighty kind to me, but little hopes of help therein, only his good word. He do prettily cry upon Povy’s account with sometimes seeming friendship and pity, and this day quite the contrary. He do confess our streights here and everywhere else arise from our outspending our revenue. I mean that the King do do so. Thence away, took up my wife; who tells me her brother hath laid out much money upon himself and wife for clothes, which I am sorry to hear, it requiring great expense. So home and to the office a while, and then home to supper, where Mrs. Turner come to us, and sat and talked. Poor woman, I pity her, but she is very cunning. She concurs with me in the falseness of Sir W. Penn’s friendship, and she tells pretty storms of my Lord Brouncker since he come to our end of the town, of people’s applications to Mrs. Williams. So, she gone, I back to my accounts of Tangier, which I am settling, having my new tallies from the Exchequer this day, and having set all right as I could wish, then to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, where sat all the morning, and there a most furious conflict between Sir W. Penn and I, in few words, and on a sudden occasion, of no great moment, but very bitter, and stared on one another, and so broke off; and to our business, my heart as full of spite as it could hold, for which God forgive me and him! At the end of the day come witnesses on behalf of Mr. Carcasse; but, instead of clearing him, I find they were brought to recriminate Sir W. Batten, and did it by oath very highly, that made the old man mad, and, I confess, me ashamed, so that I caused all but ourselves to withdraw; being sorry to have such things declared in the open office, before 100 people. But it was done home, and I do believe true, though (Sir) W. Batten denies all, but is cruel mad, and swore one of them, he or Carcasse, should not continue in the Office, which is said like a fool. He gone, for he would not stay, and [Sir] W. Penn gone a good while before, Lord Brouncker, Sir T. Harvy, and I, stayed and examined the witnesses, though amounting to little more than a reproaching of Sir W. Batten. I home, my head and mind vexed about the conflict between Sir W. Penn and I, though I have got, nor lost any ground by it. At home was Mr. Daniel and wife and sister, and dined with us, and I disturbed at dinner, Colonel Fitzgerald coming to me about tallies, which I did go and give him, and then to the office, where did much business and walked an hour or two with Lord Brouncker, who is mightily concerned in this business for Carcasse and against Sir W. Batten, and I do hope it will come to a good height, for I think it will be good for the King as well as for me, that they two do not agree, though I do, for ought I see yet, think that my Lord is for the most part in the right. He gone, I to the office again to dispatch business, and late at night comes in Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and [Sir] J. Minnes to the office, and what was it but to examine one Jones, a young merchant, who was said to have spoke the worst against Sir W. Batten, but he do deny it wholly, yet I do believe Carcasse will go near to prove all that was sworn in the morning, and so it be true I wish it may. That done, I to end my letters, and then home to supper, and set right some accounts of Tangier, and then to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where I awhile, and then home with Sir H. Cholmly to give him some tallies upon the business of the Mole at Tangier, and then out with him by coach to the Excise Office, there to enter them, and so back again with him to the Exchange, and there I took another coach, and home to the office, and to my business till dinner, the rest of our officers having been this morning upon the Victuallers’ accounts. At dinner all of us, that is to say, Lord Brouncker, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] T. Harvy, and myself, to Sir W. Penn’s house, where some other company. It is instead of a wedding dinner for his daughter, whom I saw in palterly clothes, nothing new but a bracelet that her servant3252 had given her, and ugly she is, as heart can wish. A sorry dinner, not anything handsome or clean, but some silver plates they borrowed of me. My wife was here too. So a great deal of talk, and I seemingly merry, but took no pleasure at all. We had favours given us all, and we put them in our hats, I against my will, but that my Lord and the rest did, I being displeased that he did carry Sir W. Coventry’s himself several days ago, and the people up and down the town long since, and we must have them but today. After dinner to talk a little, and then I away to my office, to draw up a letter of the state of the Office and Navy for the Duke of York against Sunday next, and at it late, and then home to supper and to bed, talking with my wife of the poorness and meanness of all that Sir W. Penn and the people about us do, compared with what we do.
. This day I am, by the blessing of God, 34 years old, in very good health and mind’s content, and in condition of estate much beyond whatever my friends could expect of a child of theirs, this day 34 years. The Lord’s name be praised! and may I be ever thankful for it. Up betimes to the office, in order to my letter to the Duke of York tomorrow, and then the office met and spent the greatest part about this letter. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again very close at it all the day till midnight, making an end and writing fair this great letter and other things to my full content, it abundantly providing for the vindication of this office, whatever the success be of our wants of money. This evening Sir W. Batten come to me to the office on purpose, out of spleen (of which he is full to Carcasse!), to tell me that he is now informed of many double tickets now found of Carcasse’s making which quite overthrows him. It is strange to see how, though I do believe this fellow to be a rogue, and could be contented to have him removed, yet to see him persecuted by Sir W. Batten, who is as bad himself, and that with so much rancour, I am almost the fellow’s friend. But this good I shall have from it, that the differences between Sir W. Batten and my Lord Brouncker will do me no hurt.
. Up, and with [Sir] W. Batten, by coach; he set me down at my Lord Brouncker’s (his feud there not suffering him to ’light himself), and I with my Lord by and by when ready to Whitehall, and by and by up to the Duke of York, and there presented our great letter and other papers, and among the rest my report of the victualling, which is good, I think, and will continue my pretence to the place, which I am still afeard Sir W. Coventry’s employment may extinguish. We have discharged ourselves in this letter fully from blame in the bad success of the Navy, if money do not come soon to us, and so my heart is at pretty good rest in this point. Having done here, Sir W. Batten and I home by coach, and though the sermon at our church was begun, yet he would ’light to go home and eat a slice of roast beef off the spit, and did, and then he and I to church in the middle of the sermon. My Lady Penn there saluted me with great content to tell me that her daughter and husband are still in bed, as if the silly woman thought it a great matter of honour, and did, going out of the church, ask me whether we did not make a great show at Court today, with all our favours in our hats. After sermon home, and alone with my wife dined. Among other things my wife told me how ill a report our Mercer hath got by her keeping of company, so that she will not send for her to dine with us or be with us as heretofore; and, what is more strange, tells me that little Mis. Tooker hath got a clap as young as she is, being brought up loosely by her mother. … In the afternoon away to Whitehall by water, and took a turn or two in the Park, and then back to Whitehall, and there meeting my Lord Arlington, he, by I know not what kindness, offered to carry me along with him to my Lord Treasurer’s, whither, I told him, I was going. I believe he had a mind to discourse of some Navy businesses, but Sir Thomas Clifford coming into the coach to us, we were prevented; which I was sorry for, for I had a mind to begin an acquaintance with him. He speaks well, and hath pretty slight superficial parts, I believe. He, in our going, talked much of the plain habit of the Spaniards; how the King and Lords themselves wear but a cloak of Colchester bayze,3253 and the ladies mantles, in cold weather, of white flannell: and that the endeavours frequently of setting up the manufacture of making these stuffs there have only been prevented by the Inquisition: the English and Dutchmen that have been sent for to work, being taken with a Psalmbook or Testament, and so clapped up, and the house pulled down by the Inquisitors; and the greatest Lord in Spain dare not say a word against it, if the word Inquisition be but mentioned. At my Lord Treasurer’s ’light and parted with them, they going into Council, and I walked with Captain Cocke, who takes mighty notice of the differences growing in our office between Lord Brouncker and [Sir] W. Batten, and among others also, and I fear it may do us hurt, but I will keep out of them. By and by comes Sir S. Fox, and he and I walked and talked together on many things, but chiefly want of money, and the straits the King brings himself and affairs into for want of it. Captain Cocke did tell me what I must not forget: that the answer of the Dutch, refusing The Hague for a place of treaty, and proposing the Boysse,3254 Bredah, Bergen-op-Zoome, or Mastricht, was seemingly stopped by the Swede’s Embassador (though he did show it to the King, but the King would take no notice of it, nor does not) from being delivered to the King; and he hath wrote to desire them to consider better of it: so that, though we know their refusal of the place, yet they know not that we know it, nor is the King obliged to show his sense of the affront. That the Dutch are in very great straits, so as to be said to be not able to set out their fleet this year. By and by comes Sir Robert Viner and my Lord Mayor to ask the King’s directions about measuring out the streets according to the new Act3255 for building of the City, wherein the King is to be pleased.3256 But he says that the way proposed in Parliament, by Colonel Birch, would have been the best, to have chosen some persons in trust, and sold the whole ground, and let it be sold again by them, with preference to the old owner, which would have certainly caused the City to be built where these Trustees pleased; whereas now, great differences will be, and the streets built by fits, and not entire till all differences be decided. This, as he tells it, I think would have been the best way. I enquired about the Frenchman3257 that was said to fire the City, and was hanged for it, by his own confession, that he was hired for it by a Frenchman of Roane, and that he did with a stick reach in a fireball in at a window of the house: whereas the master of the house, who is the King’s baker, and his son, and daughter, do all swear there was no such window, and that the fire did not begin thereabouts. Yet the fellow, who, though a mopish besotted fellow, did not speak like a madman, did swear that he did fire it: and did not this like a madman; for, being tried on purpose, and landed with his keeper at the Tower Wharf, he could carry the keeper to the very house. Asking Sir R. Viner what he thought was the cause of the fire, he tells me, that the baker, son, and his daughter, did all swear again and again, that their oven was drawn by ten o’clock at night; that, having occasion to light a candle about twelve, there was not so much fire in the bakehouse as to light a match for a candle, so that they were fain to go into another place to light it; that about two in the morning they felt themselves almost choked with smoke, and rising, did find the fire coming upstairs; so they rose to save themselves; but that, at that time, the bavins3258 were not on fire in the yard. So that they are, as they swear, in absolute ignorance how this fire should come; which is a strange thing, that so horrid an effect should have so mean and uncertain a beginning. By and by called in to the King and Cabinet, and there had a few insipid words about money for Tangier, but to no purpose. Thence away walked to my boat at Whitehall, and so home and to supper, and then to talk with W. Hewer about business of the differences at present among the people of our office, and so to my journal and to bed. This night going through bridge by water, my waterman told me how the mistress of the Beare tavern, at the bridge-foot, did lately fling herself into the Thames, and drowned herself; which did trouble me the more, when they tell me it was she that did live at the White Horse tavern in Lombard Street, which was a most beautiful woman, as most I have seen. It seems she hath had long melancholy upon her, and hath endeavoured to make away with herself often.
. Lay long in bed, talking with pleasure with my poor wife, how she used to make coal fires, and wash my foul clothes with her own hand for me, poor wretch! in our little room at my Lord Sandwich’s; for which I ought forever to love and admire her, and do; and persuade myself she would do the same thing again, if God should reduce us to it. So up and by coach abroad to the Duke of Albemarle’s about sending soldiers down to some ships, and so home, calling at a belt-maker’s to mend my belt, and so home and to dinner, where pleasant with my wife, and then to the office, where mighty busy all the day, saving going forth to the ’Change to pay for some things, and on other occasions, and at my goldsmith’s did observe the King’s new medall,3259 where, in little, there is Mrs. Steward’s face as well done as ever I saw anything in my whole life, I think: and a pretty thing it is, that he should choose her face to represent Britannia by. So at the office late very busy and much business with great joy dispatched, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. And here did receive another reference from Sir W. Coventry about the business of some of the Muster-Masters, concerning whom I had returned their small performances, which do give me a little more trouble for fear [Sir] W. Coventry should think I had a design to favour my brother Balty, and to that end to disparage all the rest. But I shall clear all very well, only it do exercise my thoughts more than I am at leisure for. At home find Balty and his wife very fine, which I did not like, for fear he do spend too much of his money that way, and lay [not] up anything. After dinner to the office again, where by and by Lord Brouncker, [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] J. Minnes and I met about receiving Carcasse’s answers to the depositions against him. Wherein I did see so much favour from my Lord to him that I do again begin to see that my Lord is not right at the bottom, and did make me the more earnest against him, though said little. My Lord rising, declaring his judgement in his behalf, and going away, I did hinder our arguing it by ourselves, and so broke up the meeting, and myself went full of trouble to my office, there to write over the deposition and his answers side by side, and then home to supper and to bed with some trouble of mind to think of the issue of this, how it will breed ill blood among us here.
. Up by candlelight, about six o’clock, it being bitter cold weather again, after all our warm weather, and by water down to Woolwich rope-yard, I being this day at a leisure, the King and Duke of York being gone down to Sheerness this morning to lay out the design for a fortification there to the river Medway;3260 and so we do not attend the Duke of York as we should otherwise have done, and there to the Dock Yard to enquire of the state of things, and went into Mr. Pett’s; and there, beyond expectation, he did present me with a Japan cane, with a silver head, and his wife sent me by him a ring, with a Woolwich stone;3261 now much in request; which I accepted, the values not being great, and knowing that I had done them courtesies, which he did own in very high terms; and then, at my asking, did give me an old draught of an ancient-built ship,3262 given him by his father, of the Beare, in Queen Elizabeth’s time. This did much please me, it being a thing I much desired to have, to show the difference in the build of ships now and heretofore. Being much taken with this kindness, I away to Blackwall and Deptford, to satisfy myself there about the King’s business, and then walked to Redriffe, and so home about noon; there find Mr. Hunt, newly come out of the country, who tells me the country3263 is much impoverished by the greatness of taxes: the farmers do break every day almost, and £1,000 a-year become not worth £500. He dined with us, and we had good discourse of the general ill state of things, and, by the way, he told me some ridiculous pieces of thrift of Sir G. Downing’s, who is his countryman, in inviting some poor people, at Christmas last, to charm the country people’s mouths; but did give them nothing but beef, porridge, pudding, and pork, and nothing said all dinner, but only his mother3264 would say, “It’s good broth, son.” He would answer, “Yes, it is good broth.” Then, says his lady, Confirm all, and say, “Yes, very good broth.” By and by she would begin and say, “Good pork:”—“Yes,” says the mother, “good pork.” Then he cries, “Yes, very good pork.” And so they said of all things; to which nobody made any answer, they going there not out of love or esteem of them, but to eat his victuals, knowing him to be a niggardly fellow; and with this he is jeered now all over the country. This day just before dinner comes Captain Story, of Cambridge, to me to the office, about a bill for prest money,3265 for men sent out of the country and the countries about him to the fleet the last year; but, Lord! to see the natures of men; how this man, hearing of my name, did ask me of my country, and told me of my cousin Roger, that he was not so wise a man as his father; for that he do not agree in Parliament with his fellow burgesses and knights of the shire, whereas I know very well the reason; for he is not so high a flyer as Mr. Chichley and others, but loves the King better than any of them, and to better purpose. But yet, he says that he is a very honest gentleman, and thence runs into a hundred stories of his own services to the King, and how he at this day brings in the taxes before anybody here thinks they are collected: discourse very absurd to entertain a stranger with. He being gone, and I glad of it, I home then to dinner. After dinner with my wife by coach abroad, and set Mr. Hunt down at the Temple and her at her brother’s, and I to Whitehall to meet [Sir] W. Coventry, but found him not, but met Mr. Cooling, who tells me of my Lord Duke of Buckingham’s being sent for last night, by a Serjeant at Armes,3266 to the Tower, for treasonable practices, and that the King is infinitely angry with him, and declared him no longer one of his Council. I know not the reason of it, or occasion. To Westminster Hall, and there paid what I owed for books, and so by coach, took up my wife to the Exchange, and there bought things for Mrs. Pierce’s little daughter, my Valentine, and so to their house, where we find Knipp, who also challengeth me for her Valentine. She looks well, sang well, and very merry we were for half an hour. Tells me Harris is well again, having been very ill, and so we home, and I to the office; then, at night, to Sir W. Penn’s, and sat with my Lady, and the young couple3267 (Sir William out of town) talking merrily; but they make a very sorry couple, methinks, though rich. So late home and to bed.
. Up, and there comes to me Drumbleby with a flageolet, made to suit with my former and brings me one Greeting, a master, to teach my wife. I agree by the whole with him to teach her to take out any lesson of herself for £4. She was not ready to begin today, but do tomorrow. So I to the office, where my Lord Brouncker and I only all the morning, and did business. At noon to the Exchange and to Sir Rob. Viner’s about settling my accounts there. So back home and to dinner, where Mr. Holliard dined with us, and pleasant company he is. I love his company, and he secures me against ever having the stone again. He gives it me, as his opinion, that the City will never be built again together, as is expected, while any restraint is laid upon them. He hath been a great loser, and would be a builder again, but, he says, he knows not what restrictions there will be, so as it is unsafe for him to begin. He gone, I to the office, and there busy till night doing much business, then home and to my accounts, wherein, beyond expectation, I succeeded so well as to settle them very clear and plain, though by borrowing of monies this month to pay D. Gawden, and chopping and changing with my Tangier money, they were become somewhat intricate, and, blessed be God; upon the evening my accounts, I do appear £6,800 creditor. This done, I to supper about 12 at night, and so to bed. The weather for three or four days being come to be exceeding cold again as any time this year. I did within these six days see smoke still remaining of the late fire in the City; and it is strange to think how, to this very day, I cannot sleep at night without great terrors of fire, and this very night I could not sleep till almost two in the morning through thoughts of fire. Thus this month is ended with great content of mind to me, thriving in my estate, and the affairs in my offices going pretty well as to myself. This afternoon Mr. Gawden was with me and tells me more than I knew before—that he hath orders to get all the victuals he can to Plymouth, and the Western ports, and other outports, and some to Scotland, so that we do intend to keep but a flying fleet this year; which, it may be, may preserve us a year longer, but the end of it must be ruin. Sir J. Minnes this night tells me, that he hears for certain, that ballads are made of us in Holland for begging of a peace; which I expected, but am vexed at. So ends this month, with nothing of weight upon my mind, but for my father and mother, who are both very ill, and have been so for some weeks: whom God help! but I do fear my poor father will hardly be ever thoroughly well again.
March 1666–67
. Up, it being very cold weather again after a good deal of warm summer weather, and to the office, where I settled to do much business today. By and by sent for to Sir G. Carteret to discourse of the business of the Navy, and our wants, and the best way of bestowing the little money we have, which is about £30,000, but, God knows, we have need of ten times as much, which do make my life uncomfortable, I confess, on the King’s behalf, though it is well enough as to my own particular, but the King’s service is undone by it. Having done with him, back again to the office, and in the streets, in Mark Lane, I do observe, it being St. David’s day, the picture of a man dressed like a Welchman, hanging by the neck upon one of the poles that stand out at the top of one of the merchants’ houses, in full proportion, and very handsomely done; which is one of the oddest sights I have seen a good while, for it was so like a man that one would have thought it was indeed a man.3268 Being returned home, I find Greeting, the flageolet-master, come, and teaching my wife; and I do think my wife will take pleasure in it, and it will be easy for her, and pleasant. So I, as I am well content with the charge it will occasion me. So to the office till dinnertime, and then home to dinner, and before dinner making my wife to sing. Poor wretch! her ear is so bad that it made me angry, till the poor wretch cried to see me so vexed at her, that I think I shall not discourage her so much again, but will endeavour to make her understand sounds, and do her good that way; for she hath a great mind to learn, only to please me; and, therefore, I am mighty unjust to her in discouraging her so much, but we were good friends, and to dinner, and had she not been ill with those and that it were not Friday (on which in Lent there are no plays) I had carried her to a play, but she not being fit to go abroad, I to the office, where all the afternoon close examining the collection of my papers of the accounts of the Navy since this war to my great content, and so at night home to talk and sing with my wife, and then to supper and so to bed with great pleasure. But I cannot but remember that just before dinner one of my people come up to me, and told me a man come from Huntingdon would speak with me, how my heart come into my mouth doubting that my father, who has been long sicke, was dead. It put me into a trembling, but, blessed be [God]! it was no such thing, but a countryman come about ordinary business to me, to receive £50 paid to my father in the country for the Perkins’s for their legacy, upon the death of their mother, by my uncle’s will. So though I get nothing at present, at least by the estate, I am fain to pay this money rather than rob my father, and much good may it do them that I may have no more further trouble from them. I hear today that Tom Woodall, the known chirurgeon, is killed at Somerset House by a Frenchman, but the occasion Sir W. Batten could not tell me.
. Up, and to the office, where sitting all the morning, and among other things did agree upon a distribution of £30,000 and odd, which is the only sum we hear of like to come out of all the Poll Bill for the use of this office for buying of goods. I did herein some few courtesies for particular friends I wished well to, and for the King’s service also, and was therefore well pleased with what was done. Sir W. Penn this day did bring an order from the Duke of York for our receiving from him a small vessel for a fireship, and taking away a better of the King’s for it, it being expressed for his great service to the King. This I am glad of, not for his sake, but that it will give me a better ground, I believe, to ask something for myself of this kind, which I was fearful to begin. This do make Sir W. Penn the most kind to me that can be. I suppose it is this, lest it should find any opposition from me, but I will not oppose, but promote it. After dinner, with my wife, to the King’s house to see The Maiden Queen, a new play of Dryden’s, mightily commended for the regularity of it, and the strain and wit; and, the truth is, there is a comical part done by Nell,3269 which is Florimell, that I never can hope ever to see the like done again, by man or woman. The King and Duke of York were at the play. But so great performance of a comical part was never, I believe, in the world before as Nell do this, both as a mad girl, then most and best of all when she comes in like a young gallant; and hath the notions and carriage of a spark the most that ever I saw any man have. It makes me, I confess, admire her. Thence home and to the office, where busy a while, and then home to read the lives of Henry 5th and 6th, very fine, in Speede,3270 and to bed. This day I did pay a bill of £50 from my father, being so much out of my own purse gone to pay my uncle Robert’s legacy to my aunt Perkins’s child.
. Lay long, merrily talking with my wife, and then up and to church, where a dull sermon of Mr. Mills touching Original Sin, and then home, and there find little Michell and his wife, whom I love mightily. Mightily contented I was in their company, for I love her much; and so after dinner I left them and by water from the Old Swan to Whitehall, where, walking in the galleries, I in the first place met Mr. Pierce, who tells me the story of Tom Woodall, the surgeon, killed in a drunken quarrel, and how the Duke of York hath a mind to get him [Pierce] one of his places in St. Thomas’s Hospitall. Then comes Mr. Hayward, the Duke of York’s servant, and tells us that the Swede’s Embassador hath been here today with news that it is believed that the Dutch will yield to have the treaty at London or Dover, neither of which will get our King any credit, we having already consented to have it at The Hague; which, it seems, De Witt opposed, as a thing wherein the King of England must needs have some profound design, which in my conscience he hath not. They do also tell me that news is this day come to the King, that the King of France is come with his army to the frontiers of Flanders, demanding leave to pass through their country towards Poland, but is denied, and thereupon that he is gone into the country. How true this is I dare not believe till I hear more. From them I walked into the Park, it being a fine but very cold day; and there took two or three turns the length of the Pell Mell: and there I met Serjeant Bearcroft, who was sent for the Duke of Buckingham, to have brought him prisoner to the Tower. He come to town this day, and brings word that, being overtaken and outrid by the Duchess of Buckingham within a few miles of the Duke’s house of Westhorp,3271 he believes she got thither about a quarter of an hour before him, and so had time to consider; so that, when he come, the doors were kept shut against him. The next day, coming with officers of the neighbour market-town to force open the doors, they were open for him, but the Duke gone; so he took horse presently, and heard upon the road that the Duke of Buckingham was gone before him for London: so that he believes he is this day also come to town before him; but no news is yet heard of him. This is all he brings. Thence to my Lord Chancellor’s, and there, meeting Sir H. Cholmly, he and I walked in my Lord’s garden, and talked; among other things, of the treaty: and he says there will certainly be a peace, but I cannot believe it. He tells me that the Duke of Buckingham his crimes, as far as he knows, are his being of a caball with some discontented persons of the late House of Commons, and opposing the desires of the King in all his matters in that House; and endeavouring to become popular, and advising how the Commons’ House should proceed, and how he would order the House of Lords. And that he hath been endeavouring to have the King’s nativity calculated; which was done, and the fellow now in the Tower about it; which itself hath heretofore, as he says, been held treason, and people died for it; but by the Statute of Treasons, in Queen Mary’s times and since, it hath been left out. He tells me that this silly Lord hath provoked, by his ill-carriage, the Duke of York, my Lord Chancellor, and all the great persons; and therefore, most likely, will die. He tells me, too, many practices of treachery against this King; as betraying him in Scotland, and giving Oliver an account of the King’s private councils; which the King knows very well, and hath yet pardoned him.3272 Here I passed away a little time more talking with him and Creed, whom I met there, and so away, Creed walking with me to Whitehall, and there I took water and stayed at Michell’s to drink. I home, and there to read very good things in Fuller’s Church History, and Worthies, and so to supper, and after supper had much good discourse with W. Hewer, who supped with us, about the ticket office and the knaveries and extortions every day used there, and particularly of the business of Mr. Carcasse, whom I fear I shall find a very rogue. So parted with him, and then to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and [Sir] W. Batten by barge to Deptford by eight in the morning, where to the King’s yard a little to look after business there, and then to a private storehouse to look upon some cordage of Sir W. Batten’s, and there being a hole formerly made for a drain for tar to run into, wherein the barrel stood still, full of stinking water, Sir W. Batten did fall with one leg into it, which might have been very bad to him by breaking a leg or other hurt, but, thanks be to God, he only sprained his foot a little. So after his shifting his stockings at a strong water shop close by, we took barge again, and so to Woolwich, where our business was chiefly to look upon the ballast wharf there, which is offered us for the King’s use to hire, but we do not think it worth the laying out much money upon, unless we could buy the fee-simple of it, which cannot be sold us, so we wholly flung it off. So to the Dockyard, and there stayed a while talking about business of the yard, and thence to the Rope-yard, and so to the White Hart and there dined, and Captain Cocke with us, whom we found at the Rope-yard, and very merry at dinner, and many pretty tales of Sir J. Minnes, which I have entered in my tale book. But by this time Sir W. Batten was come to be in much pain in his foot, so as he was forced to be carried down in a chair to the barge again, and so away to Deptford, and there I a little in the yard, and then to Bagwell’s, where I find his wife washing, and also I did hazer tout que je voudrais con her, and then sent for her husband, and discoursed of his going to Harwich this week to his charge of the new ship building there, which I have got him, and so away, walked to Redriffe, and there took boat and away home, and upon Tower Hill, near the ticket office, meeting with my old acquaintance Mr. Chaplin, the cheesemonger, and there fell to talk of news, and he tells me that for certain the King of France is denied passage with his army through Flanders, and that he hears that the Dutch do stand upon high terms with us, and will have a promise of not being obliged to strike the flag to us before they will treat with us, and other high things, which I am ashamed of and do hope will never be yielded to. That they do make all imaginable preparations, but that he believes they will be in mighty want of men; that the King of France do court us mightily. He tells me too that our Lord-Treasurer is going to lay down, and that Lord Arlington is to be Lord Treasurer, but I believe nothing of it, for he is not yet of estate visible enough to have the charge I suppose upon him. So being parted from him I home to the office, and after having done business there I home to supper, and there mightily pleased with my wife’s beginning the flageolet, believing that she will come to very well thereon. This day in the barge I took Berckenshaw’s translation3273 of Alsted his Templum, but the most ridiculous book, as he has translated it, that ever I saw in my life, I declaring that I understood not three lines together from one end of the book to the other.
. Up, and to the office, where met and sat all the morning, doing little for want of money, but only bear the countenance of an office. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, and there comes Martin my purser, and I walked with him awhile in the garden, I giving him good advice to beware of coming any more with high demands for supernumeraries or other things, for now Sir W. Penn is come to mind the business, the passing of his accounts will not be so easy as the last. He tells me he will never need it again, it being as easy, and to as much purpose to do the same thing otherwise, and how he do keep his Captain’s table, and by that means hath the command of his Captains, and do not fear in a 5th-rate ship constantly employed to get a £1,000 in five years time, and this year, besides all his spendings, which are I fear high, he hath got at this day clear above £150 in a voyage of about five or six months, which is a brave trade. He gone I to the office, and there all the afternoon late doing much business, and then to see Sir W. Batten, whose leg is all but better than it was, and like to do well. I by discourse do perceive he and his Lady are to their hearts out with my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams, to which I added something, but, I think, did not venture too far with them. But, Lord! to see to what a poor content any acquaintance among these people, or the people of the world, as they nowadays go, is worth; for my part I and my wife will keep to one another and let the world go hang, for there is nothing but falseness in it. So home to supper and hear my wife and girl sing a little, and then to bed with much content of mind.
. Up, and with [Sir] W. Penn to Whitehall by coach, and by the way agreed to acquaint [Sir] W. Coventry with the business of Mr. Carcasse, and he and I spoke to Sir W. Coventry that we might move it to the Duke of York, which I did in a very indifferent, that is, impartial manner,3274 but vexed I believe Lord Brouncker. Here the Duke of York did acquaint us, and the King did the like also, afterwards coming in, with his resolution of altering the manner of the war this year; that is, we shall keep what fleet we have abroad in several squadrons: so that now all is come out; but we are to keep it as close as we can, without hindering the work that is to be done in preparation to this. Great preparations there are to fortify Sheerness and the yard at Portsmouth, and forces are drawing down to both those places, and elsewhere by the seaside; so that we have some fear of an invasion; and the Duke of York himself did declare his expectation of the enemy’s blocking us up here in the River, and therefore directed that we should send away all the ships that we have to fit out hence. Sir W. Penn told me, going with me this morning to Whitehall, that for certain the Duke of Buckingham is brought into the Tower, and that he hath had an hour’s private conference with the King before he was sent thither. To Westminster Hall. There bought some news books, and, as everywhere else, hear everybody complain of the dearness of coals, being at £4 per chaldron, the weather, too, being become most bitter cold, the King saying today that it was the coldest day he ever knew in England. Thence by coach to my Lord Crew’s, where very welcome. Here I find they are in doubt where the Duke of Buckingham is; which makes me mightily reflect on the uncertainty of all history, when, in a business of this moment, and of this day’s growth, we cannot tell the truth. Here dined my old acquaintance, Mr. Borfett, that was my Lord Sandwich’s chaplain, and my Lady Wright and Dr. Boreman,3275 who is preacher at St. Gyles’s in the Fields, who, after dinner, did give my Lord an account of two papist women lately converted, whereof one wrote her recantation, which he showed under her own hand mighty well drawn, so as my Lord desired a copy of it, after he had satisfied himself from the Doctor, that to his knowledge she was not a woman under any necessity. Thence by coach home and stayed a very little, and then by water to Redriffe, and walked to Bagwell’s, where la moher was defro, sed would not have me demeurer there parce que Mrs. Batters and one of my ancillas, I believe Jane (for she was gone abroad today), was in the town, and coming thither; so I away presently, esteeming it a great escape. So to the yard and spoke a word or two, and then by water home, wondrous cold, and reading a ridiculous ballad made in praise of the Duke of Albemarle,3276 to the tune of St. George, the tune being printed, too; and I observe that people have some great encouragement to make ballads of him of this kind. There are so many, that hereafter he will sound like Guy of Warwicke. Then abroad with my wife, leaving her at the ’Change, while I to Sir H. Cholmly’s, a pretty house, and a fine, worthy, well-disposed gentleman he is. He and I to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s, about money for Tangier, but to little purpose. H. Cholmley tells me, among other things, that he hears of little hopes of a peace, their demands being so high as we shall never grant, and could tell me that we shall keep no fleet abroad this year, but only squadrons. And, among other things, that my Lord Bellasses, he believes, will lose his command of Tangier by his corrupt covetous ways of endeavouring to sell his command, which I am glad [of], for he is a man of no worth in the world but compliment. So to the ’Change, and there bought 32s. worth of things for Mrs. Knipp, my Valentine, which is pretty to see how my wife is come to convention with me, that, whatever I do give to anybody else, I shall give her as much, which I am not much displeased with. So home and to the office and Sir W. Batten, to tell him what I had done today about Carcasse’s business, and God forgive me I am not without design to give a blow to Sir W. Batten by it. So home, where Mr. Batelier supped with us and talked away the evening pretty late, and so he gone and we to bed.
. So up, and to the office, my head full of Carcasse’s business; then hearing that Knipp is at my house, I home, and it was about a ticket for a friend of hers. I do love the humour of the jade very well. So to the office again, not being able to stay, and there about noon my Lord Brouncker did begin to talk of Carcasse’s business. Only Commissioner Pett, my Lord, and I there, and it was pretty to see how Pett hugged the occasion of having anything against Sir W. Batten, which I am not much troubled at, for I love him not neither. Though I did really endeavour to quash it all I could, because I would prevent their malice taking effect. My Lord I see is fully resolved to vindicate Carcasse, though to the undoing of Sir W. Batten, but I believe he will find himself in a mistake, and do himself no good, and that I shall be glad of, for though I love the treason I hate the traitor.3277 But he is vexed at my moving it to the Duke of York yesterday, which I answered well, so as I think he could not answer. But, Lord! it is pretty to see how Pett hugs this business, and how he favours my Lord Brouncker; who to my knowledge hates him, and has said more to his disadvantage, in my presence, to the King and Duke of York than any man in England, and so let them thrive one with another by cheating one another, for that is all I observe among them. Thence home late, and find my wife hath dined, and she and Mrs. Hewer going to a play. Here was Creed, and he and I to Devonshire House,3278 to a burial of a kinsman of Sir R. Viner’s; and there I received a ring, and so away presently to Creed, who stayed for me at an alehouse hard by, and thence to the Duke’s playhouse, where he parted, and I in and find my wife and Mrs. Hewer, and sat by them and saw The English Princess, or Richard the Third;3279 a most sad, melancholy play, and pretty good; but nothing eminent in it, as some tragedies are; only little Mis. Davis3280 did dance a jig after the end of the play, and there telling the next day’s play; so that it come in by force only to please the company to see her dance in boy’s clothes; and, the truth is, there is no comparison between Nell’s dancing the other day3281 at the King’s house in boy’s clothes and this, this being infinitely beyond the other. Here was Mr. Clerke and Pierce, to whom one word only of “How do you,” and so away home, Mrs. Hewer with us, and I to the office and so to [Sir] W. Batten’s, and there talked privately with him and [Sir] W. Penn about business of Carcasse against tomorrow, wherein I think I did give them proof enough of my ability as well as friendship to [Sir] W. Batten, and the honour of the office, in my sense of the rogue’s business. So back to finish my office business, and then home to supper, and to bed. This day, Commissioner Taylor come to me for advice, and would force me to take ten pieces in gold of him, which I had no mind to, he being become one of our number at the Board. This day was reckoned by all people the coldest day that ever was remembered in England; and, God knows! coals at a very great price.3282
. Up, and to the Old Swan, where drank at Michell’s, but not seeing her whom I love I by water to Whitehall, and there acquainted Sir G. Carteret betimes what I had to say this day before the Duke of York in the business of Carcasse, which he likes well of, being a great enemy to him, and then I being too early here to go to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, having nothing to say to him, and being able to give him but a bad account of the business of the office (which is a shame to me, and that which I shall rue if I do not recover), to the Exchequer about getting a certificate of Mr. Lanyon’s entered at Sir R. Longs office, and strange it is to see what horrid delays there are at this day in the business of money, there being nothing yet come from my Lord Treasurer to set the business of money in action since the Parliament broke off, notwithstanding the greatness and number of the King’s occasions for it. So to the Swan, and there had three or four baisers of the little ancilla there, and so to Westminster Hall, where I saw Mr. Martin, the purser, come through with a picture in his hand, which he had bought, and observed how all the people of the Hall did fleer and laugh upon him, crying, “There is plenty grown upon a sudden;” and, the truth is, I was a little troubled that my favour should fall on so vain a fellow as he, and the more because, methought, the people do gaze upon me as the man that had raised him, and as if they guessed whence my kindness to him springs. So thence to Whitehall, where I find all met at the Duke of York’s chamber; and, by and by, the Duke of York comes, and Carcasse is called in, and I read the depositions and his answers, and he added with great confidence and good words, even almost to persuasion, what to say; and my Lord Brouncker, like a very silly solicitor, argued against me and us all for him; and, being asked first by the Duke of York his opinion, did give it for his being excused. I next did answer the contrary very plainly, and had, in this dispute, which vexed and will never be forgot by my Lord, many occasions of speaking severely, and did, against his bad practices. Commissioner Pett, like a fawning rogue, sided with my Lord, but to no purpose; and [Sir] W. Penn, like a cunning rogue, spoke mighty indifferently, and said nothing in all the fray, like a knave as he is. But [Sir] W. Batten spoke out, and did come off himself by the Duke’s kindness very well; and then Sir G. Carteret, and Sir W. Coventry, and the Duke of York himself, flatly as I said; and so he3283 was declared unfit to continue in, and therefore to be presently discharged the office; which, among other good effects, I hope, will make my Lord Brouncker not alloquer so high, when he shall consider he hath had such a public foil as this is. So home with [Sir] W. Batten, and [Sir] W. Penn, by coach, and there met at the office, and my Lord Brouncker presently after us, and there did give order to Mr. Stevens for securing the tickets in Carcasse’s hands, which my Lord against his will could not refuse to sign, and then home to dinner, and so away with my wife by coach, she to Mrs. Pierce’s and I to my Lord Bellasses, and with him to [my] Lord Treasurer’s, where by agreement we met with Sir H. Cholmly, and there sat and talked all the afternoon almost about one thing or other, expecting Sir Philip Warwicke’s coming, but he come not, so we away towards night, Sir H. Cholmly and I to the Temple, and there parted, telling me of my Lord Bellasses’s want of generosity, and that he [Bellasses] will certainly be turned out of his government, and he thinks himself stands fair for it. So home, and there found, as I expected, Mrs. Pierce and Mr. Batelier; he went for Mrs. Jones, but no Mrs. Knipp come, which vexed me, nor any other company. So with one fidler we danced away the evening, but I was not well contented with the littleness of the room, and my wife’s want of preparing things ready, as they should be, for supper, and bed. So not very merry, though very well pleased. So after supper to bed, my wife and Mrs. Pierce, and her boy James and I. Yesterday I began to make this mark (✓) stand instead of three pricks, thus (∴), which therefore I must observe everywhere, it being a mark more easy to make.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning busy. At noon home to dinner, where Mrs. Pierce did continue with us and her boy (who I still find every day more and more witty beyond his age), and did dine with us, and by and by comes in her husband and a brother-in-law of his, a parson, one of the tallest biggest men that ever I saw in my life. So to the office, where a meeting extraordinary about settling the number and wages of my Lord Brouncker’s clerks for his new work upon the Treasurer’s accounts, but this did put us upon running into the business of yesterday about Carcasse, wherein I perceive he is most dissatisfied with me, and I am not sorry for it, having all the world but him of my side therein, for it will let him know another time that he is not to expect our submitting to him in every thing, as I think he did heretofore expect. He did speak many severe words to me, and I returned as many to him, so that I do think there cannot for a great while, be, any right peace between us, and I care not a fart for it; but however, I must look about me and mind my business, for I perceive by his threats and enquiries he is and will endeavour to find out something against me or mine. Breaking up here somewhat brokenly I home, and carried Mrs. Pierce and wife to the New Exchange, and there did give her and myself a pair of gloves, and then set her down at home, and so back again straight home and thereto do business, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, where [Sir] W. Penn and others, and mighty merry, only I have got a great cold, and the scolding this day at the office with my Lord Brouncker hath made it worse, that I am not able to speak. But, Lord! to see how kind Sir W. Batten and his Lady are to me upon this business of my standing by [Sir] W. Batten against Carcasse, and I am glad of it. Captain Cocke, who was here tonight, did tell us that he is certain that yesterday a proclamation was voted at the Council, touching the proclaiming of my Lord Duke of Buckingham a traitor, and that it will be out on Monday. So home late, and drank some buttered ale, and so to bed and to sleep. This cold did most certainly come by my staying a little too long barelegged yesterday morning when I rose while I looked out fresh socks and thread stockings, yesterday’s having in the night, lying near the window, been covered with snow within the window, which made me I durst not put them on.
. Having my cold still grown more upon me, so as I am not able to speak, I lay in bed till noon, and then up and to my chamber with a good fire, and there spent an hour on Morley’s Introduction to Music,3284 a very good but unmethodical book. Then to dinner, my wife and I, and then all the afternoon alone in my chamber preparing a letter for Commissioner Taylor to the City about getting his accounts for The Loyal London,3285 by him built for them, stated and discharged, they owing him still about £4,000. Towards the evening comes Mr. Spong to see me, whose discourse about several things I proposed to him was very good, better than I have had with anybody a good while. He gone, I to my business again, and anon comes my Lady Penn and her son-in law and daughter, and there we talked all the evening away, and then to supper; and after supper comes Sir W. Penn, and there we talked together, and then broke up, and so to bed. He tells me that our Mr. Turner has seen the proclamation against the Duke of Buckingham,3286 and that therefore it is true what we heard last night. Yesterday and today I have been troubled with a hoarseness through cold that I could not almost speak.
. Up, and with my cold still upon me and hoarseness, but I was forced to rise and to the office, where all the morning busy, and among other things Sir W. Warren come to me, to whom of late I have been very strange, partly from my indifference how more than heretofore to get money, but most from my finding that he is become great with my Lord Brouncker, and so I dare not trust him as I used to do, for I will not be inward with him that is open to another. By and by comes Sir H. Cholmly to me about Tangier business, and then talking of news he tells me how yesterday the King did publicly talk of the King of France’s dealing with all the Princes of Christendome. As to the States of Holland, he [the King of France] hath advised them, on good grounds, to refuse to treat with us at the Hague, because of having opportunity of spies, by reason of our interest in the House of Orange; and then, it being a town in one particular province, it would not be fit to have it, but in a town wherein the provinces have equal interest, as at Mastricht, and other places named. That he advises them to offer no terms, nor accept of any, without his privity and consent, according to agreement; and tells them, if not so, he hath in his power to be even with them, the King of England being come to offer him any terms he pleases; and that my Lord St. Albans3287 is now at Paris, Plenipotentiary, to make what peace he pleases; and so he can make it, and exclude them, the Dutch, if he sees fit. A copy of this letter of the King of France’s the Spanish Ambassador here gets, and comes and tells all to our King; which our King denies, and says the King of France only uses his power of saying anything. At the same time, the King of France writes to the Emperor, that he is resolved to do all things to express affection to the Emperor, having it now in his power to make what peace he pleases between the King of England and him, and the States of the United Provinces; and, therefore, that he would not have him to concern himself in a friendship with us; and assures him that, on that regard, he will not offer anything to his disturbance, in his interest in Flanders, or elsewhere. He writes, at the same time, to Spain, to tell him that he wonders to hear of a league almost ended between the Crown of Spain and England, by my Lord Sandwich, and all without his privity, while he was making a peace upon what terms he pleased with England: that he is a great lover of the Crown of Spain, and would take the King and his affairs, during his minority, into his protection, nor would offer to set his foot in Flanders, or anywhere else, to disturb him; and, therefore, would not have him to trouble himself to make peace with anybody; only he hath a desire to offer an exchange, which he thinks may be of moment to both sides: that is, that he [France] will enstate the King of Spain in the kingdom of Portugal, and he and the Dutch will put him into possession of Lisbon; and, that being done, he [France] may have Flanders: and this, they say, do mightily take in Spain, which is sensible of the fruitless expense Flanders, so far off, gives them; and how much better it would be for them to be master of Portugal; and the King of France offers, for security herein, that the King of England shall be bond for him, and that he will countersecure the King of England with Amsterdam; and, it seems, hath assured our King, that if he will make a league with him, he will make a peace exclusive to the Hollander. These things are almost romantic, but yet true, as Sir H. Cholmly tells me the King himself did relate it all yesterday; and it seems as if the King of France did think other princes fit for nothing but to make sport for him: but simple princes they are, that are forced to suffer this from him. So at noon with Sir W. Penn by coach to the Sun in Leadenhall Street, where Sir R. Ford, Sir W. Batten, and Commissioner Taylor (whose feast it was) were, and we dined and had a very good dinner. Among other discourses Sir R. Ford did tell me that he do verily believe that the city will in few years be built again in all the greatest streets, and answered the objections I did give to it. Here we had the proclamation this day come out against the Duke of Buckingham, commanding him to come in to one of the Secretaries, or to the Lieutenant of the Tower. A silly, vain man to bring himself to this: and there be many hard circumstances in the proclamation of the causes of this proceeding of the King’s, which speak great displeasure of the King’s, and crimes of his. Then to discourse of the business of the day, that is, to see Commissioner Taylor’s accounts for his ship he built, The Loyal London, and it is pretty to see how dully this old fellow makes his demands, and yet plaguy wise sayings will come from the man sometimes, and also how Sir R. Ford and [Sir] W. Batten did with seeming reliance advise him what to do, and how to come prepared to answer objections to the Common Council. Thence away to the office, where late busy, and then home to supper, mightily pleased with my wife’s trill, and so to bed. This night Mr. Carcasse did come to me again to desire favour, and that I would mediate that he might be restored, but I did give him no kind answer at all, but was very angry, and I confess a good deal of it from my Lord Brouncker’s simplicity and passion.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and my Lord Brouncker mighty quiet, and no words all day, which I wonder at, expecting that he would have fallen again upon the business of Carcasse, and the more for that here happened that Perkins, who was the greatest witness of all against him, was brought in by Sir W. Batten to prove that he did really belong to The Prince, but being examined was found rather a fool than anything, as not being able to give any account when he come in nor when he come out of her, more than that he was taken by the Dutch in her, but did agree in earnest to Sir W. Penn’s saying that she lay up all, the winter before at Lambeth. This I confess did make me begin to doubt the truth of his evidence, but not to doubt the faults of Carcasse, for he was condemned by, many other better evidences than his, besides the whole world’s report. At noon home, and there find Mr. Goodgroome, whose teaching of my wife only by singing over and over again to her, and letting her sing with him, not by herself, to correct her faults, I do not like at all, but was angry at it; but have this content, that I do think she will come to sing pretty well, and to trill in time, which pleases me well. He dined with us, and then to the office, when we had a sorry meeting to little purpose, and then broke up, and I to my office, and busy late to good purpose, and so home to supper and to bed. This day a poor seaman, almost starved for want of food, lay in our yard a-dying. I sent him half-a-crown, and we ordered his ticket to be paid.
. Up, and with [Sir] W. Batten to the Duke of York to our usual attendance, where I did fear my Lord Brouncker might move something in revenge that might trouble me, but he did not, but contrarily had the content to hear Sir G. Carteret fall foul on him in the Duke of York’s bed chamber for his directing people with tickets and petitions to him, bidding him mind his Controller’s place and not his, for if he did he should be too hard for him, and made high words, which I was glad of. Having done our usual business with the Duke of York, I away; and meeting Mr. D. Gawden in the presence-chamber, he and I to talk; and among other things he tells me, and I do find everywhere else, also, that our masters do begin not to like of their councils in fitting out no fleet, but only squadrons, and are finding out excuses for it; and, among others, he tells me a Privy-Councillor did tell him that it was said in Council that a fleet could not be set out this year, for want of victuals, which gives him and me a great alarme, but me especially for had it been so, I ought to have represented it; and therefore it puts me in policy presently to prepare myself to answer this objection, if ever it should come about, by drawing up a state of the Victualler’s stores, which I will presently do. So to Westminster Hall, and there stayed and talked, and then to Sir G. Carteret’s, where I dined with the ladies, he not at home, and very well used I am among them, so that I am heartily ashamed that my wife hath not been there to see them; but she shall very shortly. So home by water, and stepped into Michell’s, and there did baiser my Betty, que ægrotat a little. At home find Mr. Holliard, and made him eat a bit of victuals. Here I find Mr. Greeten,3288 who teaches my wife on the flageolet, and I think she will come to something on it. Mr. Holliard advises me to have my father come up to town, for he doubts else in the country he will never find ease, for, poor man, his grief is now grown so great upon him that he is never at ease, so I will have him up at Easter. By and by by coach, set down Mr. Holliard near his house at Hatton Garden and myself to Lord Treasurer’s, and sent my wife to the New Exchange. I stayed not here, but to Westminster Hall, and thence to Martin’s, where he and she both within, and with them the little widow that was once there with her when I was there, that dissembled so well to be grieved at hearing a tune that her late husband liked, but there being so much company, I had no pleasure here, and so away to the Hall again, and there met Doll Lane coming out, and par contrat did hazer bargain para aller to the cabaret de vin, called the Rose, and ibi I stayed two hours, sed she did not venir, lequel troubled me, and so away by coach and took up my wife, and away home, and so to Sir W. Batten’s, where I am told that it is intended by Mr. Carcasse to pray me to be godfather with Lord Brouncker tomorrow to his child, which I suppose they tell me in mirth, but if he should ask me I know not whether I should refuse it or no. Late at my office preparing a speech against tomorrow morning, before the King, at my Lord Treasurer’s, and the truth is it run in my head all night. So home to supper and to bed. The Duke of Buckingham is concluded gone over sea, and, it is thought, to France.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn to my Lord Treasurer’s, where we met with my Lord Brouncker an hour before the King come, and had time to talk a little of our business. Then come much company, among others Sir H. Cholmly, who tells me that undoubtedly my Lord Bellasses will go no more as Governor to Tangier, and that he do put in fair for it, and believes he shall have it, and proposes how it may conduce to his account and mine in the business of money. Here we fell into talk with Sir Stephen Fox, and, among other things, of the Spanish manner of walking, when three together, and showed me how, which was pretty, to prevent differences. By and by comes the King and Duke of York, and presently the officers of the Ordnance were called; my Lord Berkeley, Sir John Duncomb, and Mr. Chichly; then we, my Lord Brouncker, [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself; where we find only the King and Duke of York, and my Lord Treasurer, and Sir G. Carteret; where I only did speak, laying down the state of our wants, which the King and Duke of York seemed very well pleased with, and we did get what we asked, £500,000, assigned upon the eleven months’ tax: but that is not so much ready money, or what will raise £40,000 per week, which we desired, and the business will want. Yet are we fain to come away answered, when, God knows, it will undo the King’s business to have matters of this moment put off in this manner. The King did prevent my offering anything by and by as Treasurer for Tangier, telling me that he had ordered us £30,000 on the same tax; but that is not what we would have to bring our payments to come within a year. So we gone out, in went others; viz., one after another, Sir Stephen Fox for the army, Captain Cocke for sick and wounded, Mr. Ashburnham3289 for the household. Thence [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and I, back again; I mightily pleased with what I had said and done, and the success thereof. But, it being a fine clear day, I did, en gayeté de cœur, propose going to Bow for air sake, and dine there, which they embraced, and so [Sir] W. Batten and I (setting [Sir] W. Penn down at Mark Lane end) straight to Bow, to the Queen’s Head, and there bespoke our dinner, carrying meat with us from London; and anon comes [Sir] W. Penn with my wife and Lady Batten, and then Mr. Lowder with his mother and wife. While [Sir] W. Batten and I were alone, we had much friendly discourse, though I will never trust him far; but we do propose getting The Flying Greyhound,3290 our privateer, to us and [Sir] W. Penn at the end of the year when we call her home, by begging her of the King, and I do not think we shall be denied her. They being come, we to oysters and so to talk, very pleasant I was all day, and anon to dinner, and I made very good company. Here till the evening, so as it was dark almost before we got home (back again in the same method, I think, we went), and spent the night talking at Sir W. Batten’s, only a little at my office, to look over the Victualler’s contract, and draw up some arguments for him to plead for his charges in transportation of goods beyond the ports which the letter of one article in his contract do lay upon him. This done I home to supper and to bed. Troubled a little at my fear that my Lord Brouncker should tell Sir W. Coventry of our neglecting the office this afternoon (which was intended) to look after our pleasures, but nothing will fall upon me alone about this.
. Up, and pleased at Tom’s teaching of Barker something to sing a 3rd part to a song, which will please mightily. So I to the office all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, where I do hear that letters this day come to Court do tell us that we are likely not to agree, the Dutch demanding high terms, and the King of France the like, in a most braving manner. The merchants do give themselves over for lost, no man knowing what to do, whether to sell or buy, not knowing whether peace or war to expect, and I am told that could that be now known a man might get £20,000 in a week’s time by buying up of goods in case there should be war. Thence home and dined well, and then with my wife, set her at Unthanke’s and I to Sir G. Carteret, where talked with the ladies a while, and my Lady Carteret talks nothing but sorrow and afflictions coming on us, and indeed I do fear the same. So away and met Dr. Fuller, Bishop of Limricke, and walked an hour with him in the Court talking of news only, and he do think that matters will be bad with us. Then to Westminster Hall, and there spent an hour or two walking up and down, thinking para avoir got out Doll Lane, sedje ne could do it, having no opportunity de hazer le, ainsi lost the tota afternoon, and so away and called my wife and home, where a little at the office, and then home to my closet to enter my journals, and so to supper and to bed. This noon come little Mis. Tooker, who is grown a little woman; ego had opportunity para baiser her. … This morning I was called up by Sir John Winter, poor man! come in his sedan from the other end of the town, before I was up, and merely about the King’s business, which is a worthy thing of him, and I believe him to be a worthy good man, and I will do him the right to tell the Duke of it, who did speak well of him the other day. It was about helping the King in the business of bringing down his timber to the seaside, in the Forest of Deane.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning; at noon home to dinner, and then to the office again in the afternoon, and there all day very busy till night, and then, having done much business, home to supper, and so to bed. This afternoon come home Sir J. Minnes, who has been down, but with little purpose, to pay the ships below at the Nore. This evening, having done my letters, I did write out the heads of what I had prepared to speak to the King the other day at my Lord Treasurer’s, which I do think convenient to keep by me for future use. The weather is now grown warm again, after much cold; and it is observable that within these eight days I did see smoke remaining, coming out of some cellars, from the late great fire, now above six months since. There was this day at the office (as he is most days) Sir W. Warren, against whom I did manifestly plead, and heartily too, God forgive me! But the reason is because I do find that he do now wholly rely almost upon my Lord Brouncker, though I confess I have no greater ground of my leaving him than the confidence which I perceive he hath got in my Lord Brouncker, whose seeming favours only do obtain of him as much compensation as, I believe (for he do know well the way of using his bounties), as mine more real. Besides, my Lord and I being become antagonistic, I do not think it safe for me to trust myself in the hands of one whom I know to be a knave, and using all means to become gracious there.
. Up betime with my wife, and by coach with Sir W. Penn and Sir Thomas Allen to Whitehall, there my wife and I the first time that ever we went to my Lady Jemimah’s chamber at Sir Edward Carteret’s lodgings. I confess I have been much to blame and much ashamed of our not visiting her sooner, but better now than never. Here we took her before she was up, which I was sorry for, so only saw her, and away to chapel, leaving further visit till after sermon. I put my wife into the pew below, but it was pretty to see, myself being but in a plain band, and every way else ordinary, how the verger took me for her man, I think, and I was fain to tell him she was a kinswoman of my Lord Sandwich’s, he saying that none under knights-baronets’ ladies are to go into that pew. So she being there, I to the Duke of York’s lodging, where in his dressing-chamber he talking of his journey tomorrow or next day to Harwich, to prepare some fortifications there; so that we are wholly upon the defensive part this year, only we have some expectations that we may by our squadrons annoy them in their trade by the North of Scotland and to the Westward. Here Sir W. Penn did show the Duke of York a letter of Hogg’s3291 about a prize he drove in within the Sound at Plymouth, where the Vice-Admiral claims her. Sir W. Penn would have me speak to the latter, which I did, and I think without any offence, but afterwards I was sorry for it, and Sir W. Penn did plainly say that he had no mind to speak to the Duke of York about it, so that he put me upon it, but it shall be, the last time that I will do such another thing, though I think no manner of hurt done by it to me at all. That done I to walk in the Park, where to the Queen’s Chapel, and there heard a fryer preach with his cord about his middle, in Portuguese, something I could understand, showing that God did respect the meek and humble, as well as the high and rich. He was full of action, but very decent and good, I thought, and his manner of delivery very good. Then I went back to Whitehall, and there up to the closet, and spoke with several people till sermon was ended, which was preached by the Bishop of Hereford,3292 an old good man, that they say made an excellent sermon. He was by birth a Catholic, and a great gallant, having £1,500 per annum, patrimony, and is a Knight Barronet; was turned from his persuasion by the late Archbishop Laud. He and the Bishop of Exeter, Dr. Ward, are the two Bishops that the King do say he cannot have bad sermons from. Here I met with Sir H. Cholmly, who tells me, that undoubtedly my Lord Bellasses do go no more to Tangier, and that he do believe he do stand in a likely way to go Governor; though he says, and showed me, a young silly Lord, one Lord Allington,3293 who hath offered a great sum of money to go, and will put hard for it, he having a fine lady,3294 and a great man would be glad to have him out of the way. After Chapel I down and took out my wife from the pew, where she was talking with a lady whom I knew not till I was gone. It was Mrs. Ashfield of Brampton, who had with much civility been, it seems, at our house to see her. I am sorry I did not show her any more respect. With my wife to Sir G. Carteret’s, where we dined and mightily made of, and most extraordinary people they are to continue friendship with for goodness, virtue, and nobleness and interest. After dinner he and I alone awhile and did joy ourselves in my Lord Sandwich’s being out of the way all this time. He concurs that we are in a way of ruin by thus being forced to keep only small squadrons out, but do tell me that it was not choice, but only force, that we could not keep out the whole fleet. He tells me that the King is very kind to my Lord Sandwich, and did himself observe to him (Sir G. Carteret), how those very people, meaning the Prince and Duke of Albemarle, are punished in the same kind as they did seek to abuse my Lord Sandwich. Thence away, and got a hackney coach and carried my wife home, and there only drank, and myself back again to my Lord Treasurer’s, where the King, Duke of York, and Sir G. Carteret and Lord Arlington were and none else, so I stayed not, but to Whitehall, and there meeting nobody I would speak with, walked into the Park and took two or three turns all alone, and then took coach and home, where I find Mercer, who I was glad to see, but durst [not] show so, my wife being displeased with her, and indeed I fear she is grown a very gossip. I to my chamber, and there fitted my arguments which I had promised Mr. Gawden in his behalf in some pretences to allowance of the King, and then to supper, and so to my chamber a little again, and then to bed. Duke of Buckingham not heard of yet.
. Up betimes, and to the office to write fair my paper for D. Gawden against anon, and then to other business, where all the morning. D. Gawden by and by comes, and I did read over and give him the paper, which I think I have much obliged him in. A little before noon comes my old good friend, Mr. Richard Cumberland3295 to see me, being newly come to town, whom I have not seen almost, if not quite, these seven years. In his plain country-parson’s dress. I could not spend much time with him, but prayed him come with his brother, who was with him, to dine with me today; which he did do and I had a great deal of his good company; and a most excellent person he is as any I know, and one that I am sorry should be lost and buried in a little country town, and would be glad to remove him thence; and the truth is, if he would accept of my sister’s fortune, I should give £100 more with him than to a man able to settle her four times as much as, I fear, he is able to do; and I will think of it, and a way how to move it, he having in discourse said he was not against marrying, nor yet engaged. I showed him my closet, and did give him some very good music, Mr. Caesar being here upon his lute. They gone I to the office, where all the afternoon very busy, and among other things comes Captain Jenifer to me, a great servant of my Lord Sandwich’s, who tells me that he do hear for certain, though I do not yet believe it, that Sir W. Coventry is to be Secretary of State, and my Lord Arlington Lord Treasurer. I only wish that the latter were as fit for the latter office as the former is for the former, and more fit than my Lord Arlington. Anon Sir W. Penn come and talked with me in the garden, and tells me that for certain the Duke of Richmond is to marry Mrs. Stewart, he having this day brought in an account of his estate and debts to the King on that account. At night home to supper and so to bed. My father’s letter this day do tell me of his own continued illness, and that my mother grows so much worse, that he fears she cannot long continue, which troubles me very much. This day, Mr. Caesar told me a pretty experiment of his, of angling with a minikin, a gut-string varnished over, which keeps it from swelling, and is beyond any hair for strength and smallness. The secret I like mightily.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon dined at home very pleasantly with my wife, and after dinner with a great deal of pleasure had her sing, which she begins to do with some pleasure to me, more than I expected. Then to the office again, where all the afternoon close, and at night home to supper and to bed. It comes in my mind this night to set down how a house was the other day in Bishopsgate Street blowed up with powder; a house that was untenanted, and between a flax shop and a ⸻, both bad for fire; but, thanks be to God, it did no more hurt; and all do conclude it a plot. I would also remember to my shame how I was pleased yesterday, to find the righteous maid of Magister Griffin sweeping of nostra office, elle con the Roman nariz and bonne body which I did heretofore like, and do still refresh me to think que elle is come to us, that I may voir her aliquando. This afternoon I am told again that the town do talk of my Lord Arlington’s being to be Lord Treasurer, and Sir W. Coventry to be Secretary of State; and that for certain the match is concluded between the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stewart, which I am well enough pleased with; and it is pretty to consider how his quality will allay people’s talk; whereas, had a meaner person married her, he would for certain have been reckoned a cuckold at first-dash.
. Up pretty betimes, and to the Old Swan, and there drank at Michell’s, but his wife is not there, but gone to her mother’s, who is ill, and so hath stayed there since Sunday. Thence to Westminster Hall and drank at the Swan, and baiserais the petite misse; and so to Mrs. Martin’s. … I sent for some burnt wine, and drank and then away, not pleased with my folly, and so to the Hall again, and there stayed a little, and so home by water again, where, after speaking with my wife, I with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] J. Minnes to our church to the vestry, to be assessed by the late Poll Bill, where I am rated as an Esquire, and for my office, all will come to about £50. But not more than I expected, nor so much by a great deal as I ought to be, for all my offices. So shall be glad to escape so. Thence by water again to Whitehall, and there up into the house, and do hear that news is come now that the enemy do incline again to a peace, but could hear no particulars, so do not believe it. I had a great mind to have spoke with the King, about a business proper enough for me, about the French prize man-of-war, how he would have her altered, only out of a desire to show myself mindful of business, but my linen was so dirty and my clothes mean, that I neither thought it fit to do that, nor go to other persons at the Court, with whom I had business, which did vex me, and I must remedy [it]. Here I hear that the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stewart were betrothed last night. Thence to Westminster Hall again, and there saw Betty Michell, and bought a pair of gloves of her, she being fain to keep shop there, her mother being sick, and her father gathering of the tax. I aimais her de toute my corazon. Thence, my mind wandering all this day upon mauvaises amours which I be merry for. So home by water again, where I find my wife gone abroad, so I to Sir W. Batten to dinner, and had a good dinner of ling and herring pie, very good meat, best of the kind that ever I had. Having dined, I by coach to the Temple, and there did buy a little book or two, and it is strange how Rycaut’s3296Discourse of Turky, which before the fire I was asked but 8s. for, there being all but twenty-two or thereabouts burned, I did now offer 20s., and he demands 50s., and I think I shall give it him, though it be only as a monument of the fire. So to the New Exchange, where I find my wife, and so took her to Unthanke’s, and left her there, and I to Whitehall, and thence to Westminster, only out of idleness, and to get some little pleasure to my mauvais flammes, but sped not, so back and took up my wife; and to Polichinelli at Charing Crosse, which is prettier and prettier, and so full of variety that it is extraordinary good entertainment. Thence by coach home, that is, my wife home, and I to the Exchange, and there met with Fenn, who tells me they have yet no orders out of the Exchequer for money upon the Acts, which is a thing not to be borne by any Prince of understanding or care, for no money can be got advanced upon the Acts only from the weight of orders in form out of the Exchequer so long time after the passing of the Acts. So home to the office a little, where I met with a sad letter from my brother, who tells me my mother is declared by the doctors to be past recovery, and that my father is also very ill every hour: so that I fear we shall see a sudden change there. God fit them and us for it! So to Sir W. Penn’s, where my wife was, and supped with a little,3297 but yet little mirth, and a bad, nasty supper, which makes me not love the family, they do all things so meanly, to make a little bad show upon their backs. Thence home and to bed, very much troubled about my father’s and my mother’s illness.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and had some melancholy discourse with my wife about my mother’s being so ill and my father, and after dinner to cheer myself, I having the opportunity of Sir W. Coventry and the Duke of York’s being out of town, I alone out and to the Duke of York’s playhouse, where unexpectedly I come to see only the young men and women of the house act; they having liberty to act for their own profit on Wednesdays and Fridays this Lent: and the play they did yesterday, being Wednesday, was so well-taken, that they thought fit to venture it publicly today; a play of my Lord Falkland’s3298 called The Wedding Night, a kind of a tragedy, and some things very good in it, but the whole together, I thought, not so. I confess I was well enough pleased with my seeing it: and the people did do better, without the great actors, than I did expect, but yet far short of what they do when they are there, which I was glad to find the difference of. Thence to rights home, and there to the office to my business hard, being sorry to have made this scape without my wife, but I have a good salvo to my oath in doing it. By and by, in the evening, comes Sir W. Batten’s Mingo to me to pray me to come to his master and Sir Richard Ford, who have very ill news to tell me. I knew what it was, it was about our trial for a good prize today, The Phoenix,3299 worth two or £3,000. I went to them, where they told me with much trouble how they had sped, being cast and sentenced to make great reparation for what we had embezzled, and they did it so well that I was much troubled at it, when by and by Sir W. Batten asked me whether I was mortified enough, and told me we had got the day, which was mighty welcome news to me and us all. But it is pretty to see what money will do. Yesterday, Walker3300 was mighty cold on our behalf, till Sir W. Batten promised him, if we sped in this business of the goods, a coach; and if at the next trial we sped for the ship, we would give him a pair of horses. And he hath strove for us today like a prince, though the Swedes’ Agent was there with all the vehemence he could to save the goods, but yet we carried it against him. This put me in mighty good heart, and then we go to Sir W. Penn, who is come back tonight from Chatham, and did put him into the same condition, and then comforted him. So back to my office, and wrote an affectionate and sad letter to my father about his and my mother’s illness, and so home to supper and to bed late.
. Up and by coach to Sir Ph. Warwicke about business for Tangier about money, and then to Sir Stephen Fox to give him account of a little service I have done him about money coming to him from our office, and then to Lovett’s and saw a few baubling things of their doing which are very pretty, but the quality of the people, living only by shifts, do not please me, that it makes me I do no more care for them, nor shall have more acquaintance with them after I have got my Lady Castlemayne’s picture home. So to Whitehall, where the King at Chapel, and I would not stay, but to Westminster to Howlett’s, and there, he being not well, I sent for a quart of claret and burnt it and drank, and had a basado or three or four of Sarah, whom je trouve ici, and so by coach to Sir Robt. Viner’s about my accounts with him, and so to the ’Change, where I hear for certain that we are going on with our treaty of peace, and that we are to treat at Bredah. But this our condescension people do think will undo us, and I do much fear it. So home to dinner, where my wife having dressed herself in a silly dress of a blue petticoat uppermost, and a white satin waistcoat and whitehood, though I think she did it because her gown is gone to the tailor’s, did, together with my being hungry, which always makes me peevish, make me angry, but when my belly was full were friends again, and dined and then by water down to Greenwich and thence walked to Woolwich, all the way reading Playford’s Introduction to Music, wherein are some things very pretty. At Woolwich I did much business, taking an account of the state of the ships there under hand, thence to Blackwall, and did the like for two ships we have repairing there, and then to Deptford and did the like there, and so home. Captain Perriman with me from Deptford, telling me many particulars how the King’s business is ill ordered, and indeed so they are, God knows! So home and to the office, where did business, and so home to my chamber, and then to supper and to bed. Landing at the Tower tonight I met on Tower Hill with Captain Cocke and spent half an hour walking in the dusk of the evening with him, talking of the sorrowful condition we are in, that we must be ruined if the Parliament do not come and chastise us, that we are resolved to make a peace whatever it cost, that the King is disobliging the Parliament in this interval all that may be, yet his money is gone and he must have more, and they likely not to give it, without a great deal of do. God knows what the issue of it will be. But the considering that the Duke of York, instead of being at sea as Admiral, is now going from port to port, as he is at this day at Harwich, and was the other day with the King at Sheerness, and hath ordered at Portsmouth how fortifications shall be made to oppose the enemy, in case of invasion, [which] is to us a sad consideration, and as shameful to the nation, especially after so many proud vaunts as we have made against the Dutch, and all from the folly of the Duke of Albemarle, who made nothing of beating them, and Sir John Lawson he always declared that we never did fail to beat them with lesser numbers than theirs, which did so prevail with the King as to throw us into this war.
. At the office all the morning, where Sir W. Penn come, being returned from Chatham, from considering the means of fortifying the river Medway, by a chain at the stakes, and ships laid there with guns to keep the enemy from coming up to burn our ships; all our care now being to fortify ourselves against their invading us. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon again, where Mr. Moore come, who tells me that there is now no doubt made of a peace being agreed on, the King having declared this week in Council that they would treat at Bredagh. He gone I to my office, where busy late, and so to supper and to bed. Vexed with our maid Luce, our cook-maid, who is a good drudging servant in everything else, and pleases us, but that she will be drunk, and hath been so last night and all this day, that she could not make clean the house. My fear is only fire.
. With Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, and there I to Sir G. Carteret, who is mighty cheerful, which makes me think and by some discourse that there is expectation of a peace, but I did not ask [him]. Here was Sir J. Minnes also: and they did talk of my Lord Brouncker, whose father,3301 it seems, did give Mr. Ashburnham and the present Lord Digby £1,200 to be made an Irish lord, and swore the same day that he had not 12d. left to pay for his dinner: they make great mirth at this, my Lord Brouncker having lately given great matter of offence both to them and us all, that we are at present mightily displeased with him. By and by to the Duke of York, where we all met, and there was the King also; and all our discourse was about fortifying of the Medway and Harwich, which is to be entrenched quite round, and Portsmouth: and here they advised with Sir Godfry Lloyd3302 and Sir Bernard de Gum,3303 the two great engineers, and had the plates drawn before them; and indeed all their care they now take is to fortify themselves, and are not ashamed of it: for when by and by my Lord Arlington come in with letters, and seeing the King and Duke of York give us and the officers of the Ordnance directions in this matter, he did move that we might do it as privately as we could, that it might not come into the Dutch Gazette presently, as the King’s and Duke of York’s going down the other day to Sheerness was, the week after, in the Harlem Gazette. The King and Duke of York both laughed at it, and made no matter, but said, “Let us be safe, and let them talk, for there is nothing will trouble them more, nor will prevent their coming more, than to hear that we are fortifying ourselves.” And the Duke of York said further, “What said Marshal Turenne, when some in vanity said that the enemies were afraid, for they entrenched themselves? ‘Well,’ says he, ‘I would they were not afraid, for then they would not entrench themselves, and so we could deal with them the better.’ ” Away thence, and met with Sir H. Cholmly, who tells me that he do believe the government of Tangier is bought by my Lord Allington for a sum of money to my Lord Arlington, and something to Lord Bellasses, who (he did tell me particularly how) is as very a false villain as ever was born, having received money of him here upon promise and confidence of his return, forcing him to pay it by advance here, and promising to ask no more there, when at the same time he was treating with my Lord Allington to sell his command to him, and yet told Sir H. Cholmly nothing of it, but when Sir H. Cholmly told him what he had heard, he confessed that my Lord Allington had spoken to him of it, but that he was a vain man to look after it, for he was nothing fit for it, and then goes presently to my Lord Allington and drives on the bargain, yet tells Lord Allington what he himself had said of him, as [though] Sir H. Cholmly had said them. I am glad I am informed hereof, and shall know him for a Lord, etc. Sir H. Cholmly tells me further that he is confident there will be a peace, and that a great man did tell him that my Lord Albemarle did tell him the other day at Whitehall as a secret that we should have a peace if anything the King of France can ask and our King can give will gain it, which he is it seems mad at. Thence back with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn home, and heard a piece of sermon, and so home to dinner, where Balty come, very fine, and dined with us, and after dinner with me by water to Whitehall, and there he and I did walk round the Park, I giving him my thoughts about the difficulty of getting employment for him this year, but advised him how to employ himself, and I would do what I could. So he and I parted, and I to Martin’s, where I find her within, and su hermano and la veuve Burroughs. Here I did demeurertoda the afternoon. … By and by come up the mistress of the house, Crags, a pleasant jolly woman. I stayed all but a little, and away home by water through bridge, a brave evening, and so home to read, and anon to supper, W. Hewer with us, and then to read myself to sleep again, and then to bed, and mightily troubled the most of the night with fears of fire, which I cannot get out of my head to this day since the last great fire. I did this night give the waterman who uses to carry me 10s. at his request, for the painting of his new boat, on which shall be my arms.
. (Ladyday.) Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn by coach to Exeter House to our lawyers to have consulted about our trial tomorrow, but missed them, so parted, and [Sir] W. Penn and I to Mr. Povy’s about a little business of [Sir] W. Penn’s, where we went over Mr. Povy’s house, which lies in the same good condition as ever, which is most extraordinary fine, and he was now at work with a cabinetmaker, making of a new inlaid table. Having seen his house, we away, having in our way thither called at Mr. Lilly’s,3304 who was working; and indeed his pictures are without doubt much beyond Mr. Hales’s, I think I may say I am convinced: but a mighty proud man he is, and full of state. So home, and to the office, and by and by to dinner, a poor dinner, my wife and I, at Sir W. Penn’s, and then he and I before to Exeter House, where I do not stay, but to the King’s playhouse; and by and by comes Mr. Lowther and his wife and mine, and into a box, forsooth, neither of them being dressed, which I was almost ashamed of. Sir W. Penn and I in the pit, and here saw The Maiden Queen again;3305 which indeed the more I see the more I like, and is an excellent play, and so done by Nell, her merry part, as cannot be better done in nature, I think. Thence home, and there I find letters from my brother, which tell me that yesterday when he wrote my mother did rattle in the throat so as they did expect every moment her death, which though I have a good while expected did much surprise me, yet was obliged to sup at Sir W. Penn’s and my wife, and there counterfeited some little mirth, but my heart was sad, and so home after supper and to bed, and much troubled in my sleep of my being crying by my mother’s bedside, laying my head over hers and crying, she almost dead and dying, and so waked, but what is strange, methought she had hair over her face, and not the same kind of face as my mother really hath, but yet did not consider that, but did weep over her as my mother, whose soul God have mercy of.
. Up with a sad heart in reference to my mother, of whose death I undoubtedly expect to hear the next post, if not of my father’s also, who by his pain as well as his grief for her is very ill, but on my own behalf I have cause to be joyful this day, it being my usual feast day, for my being cut of the stone this day nine years, and through God’s blessing am at this day and have long been in as good condition of health as ever I was in my life or any man in England is, God make me thankful for it! But the condition I am in, in reference to my mother, makes it unfit for me to keep my usual feast. Unless it shall please God to send her well (which I despair wholly of), and then I will make amends for it by observing another day in its room. So to the office, and at the office all the morning, where I had an opportunity to speak to Sir John Harman about my desire to have my brother Balty go again with him to sea as he did the last year, which he do seem not only contented but pleased with, which I was glad of. So at noon home to dinner, where I find Creed, who dined with us, but I had not any time to talk with him, my head being busy, and before I had dined was called away by Sir W. Batten, and both of us in his coach (which I observe his coachman do always go now from hence towards Whitehall through Tower Street, and it is the best way) to Exeter House, where the judge was sitting, and after several little causes comes on ours, and while the several depositions and papers were at large reading (which they call the preparatory), and being cold by being forced to sit with my hat off close to a window in the Hall, Sir W. Penn and I to the Castle Tavern hard by and got a lobster, and he and I stayed and eat it, and drank good wine; I only burnt wine, as my whole custom of late hath been, as an evasion, God knows, for my drinking of wine (but it is an evasion which will not serve me now hot weather is coming, that I cannot pretend, as indeed I really have done, that I drank it for cold), but I will leave it off, and it is but seldom, as when I am in women’s company, that I must call for wine, for I must be forced to drink to them. Having done here then we back again to the Court, and there heard our cause pleaded; Sir [Edward] Turner, Sir W. Walker, and Sir Ellis Layton being our counsel against only Sir Robert Wiseman3306 on the other. The second of our three counsel was the best, and indeed did speak admirably, and is a very shrewd man. Nevertheless, as good as he did make our case, and the rest, yet when Wiseman come to argue (nay, and though he did begin so sillily that we laughed in scorn in our sleeves at him), yet he did so state the case, that the Judge3307 did not think fit to decide the cause tonight, but took to tomorrow, and did stagger us in our hopes, so as to make us despair of the success. I am mightily pleased with the judge, who seems a very rational, learned, and uncorrupt man, and much good reading and reason there is heard in hearing of this law argued, so that the thing pleased me, though our success doth shake me. Thence Sir W. Penn and I home and to write letters, among others a sad one to my father upon fear of my mother’s death, and so home to supper and to bed.
. [Sir] W. Penn and I to Whitehall, and in the coach did begin our discourse again about Balty, and he promises me to move it this very day. He and I met my Lord Brouncker at Sir G. Carteret’s by appointment, there to discourse a little business, all being likely to go to rack for lack of money still. Thence to the Duke of York’s lodgings, and did our usual business, and Sir W. Penn telling me that he had this morning spoke of Balty to Sir W. Coventry, and that the thing was done, I did take notice of it also to [Sir] W. Coventry, who told me that he had both the thing and the person in his head before to have done it, which is a double pleasure to me. Our business with the Duke being done, [Sir] W. Penn and I towards the Exchequer, and in our way met Sir G. Downing going to chapel, but we stopped, and he would go with us back to the Exchequer and showed us in his office his chests full and ground and shelves full of money, and says that there is £50,000 at this day in his office of people’s money, who may demand it this day, and might have had it away several weeks ago upon the late Act, but do rather choose to have it continue there than to put it into the Banker’s hands, and I must confess it is more than I should have believed had I not seen it, and more than ever I could have expected would have arisen for this new Act in so short a time, and if it do so now already what would it do if the money was collected upon the Act and returned into the Exchequer so timely as it ought to be. But it comes into my mind here to observe what I have heard from Sir John Bankes, though I cannot fully conceive the reason of it, that it will be impossible to make the Exchequer ever a true bank to all intents, unless the Exchequer stood nearer the Exchange, where merchants might with ease, while they are going about their business, at all hours, and without trouble or loss of time, have their satisfaction, which they cannot have now without much trouble, and loss of half a day, and no certainty of having the offices open. By this he means a bank for common practise and use of merchants, and therein I do agree with him. Being parted from Sir W. Penn and [Sir] G. Downing, I to Westminster Hall and there met Balty, whom I had sent for, and there did break the business of my getting him the place of going again as Muster-Master with Harman this voyage to the West Indies, which indeed I do owe to Sir W. Penn. He is mighty glad of it, and earnest to fit himself for it, but I do find, poor man, that he is troubled how to dispose of his wife, and apparently it is out of fear of her, and his honour, and I believe he hath received some cause of this his jealousy and care, and I do pity him in it, and will endeavour to find out some way to do, it for him. Having put him in a way of preparing himself for the voyage, I did go to the Swan, and there sent for Jervas, my old periwig maker, and he did bring me a periwig, but it was full of nits, so as I was troubled to see it (it being his old fault), and did send him to make it clean, and in the meantime, having stayed for him a good while, did go away by water to the Castle Tavern, by Exeter House, and there met Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and several others, among the rest Sir Ellis Layton, who do apply himself to discourse with me, and I think by his discourse, out of his opinion of my interest in Sir W. Coventry, the man I find a wonderful witty, ready man for sudden answers and little tales, and sayings very extraordinary witty, but in the bottom I doubt he is not so. Yet he pretends to have studied men, and the truth is in several that I do know he did give me a very inward account of them. But above all things he did give me a full account, upon my demand, of this judge of the Admiralty, Judge Jenkins; who, he says, is a man never practised in this Court, but taken merely for his merit and ability’s sake from Trinity Hall, where he had always lived; only by accident the business of the want of a Judge being proposed to the present Archbishop of Canterbury that now is, he did think of this man and sent for him up: and here he is, against the gré and content of the old Doctors, made judge, but is a very excellent man both for judgment and temper, yet majesty enough, and by all men’s report, not to be corrupted. After dinner to the Court, where Sir Ellis Layton did make a very silly motion in our behalf, but did neither hurt nor good. After him Walker and Wiseman; and then the judge did pronounce his sentence; for some part of the goods and ship, and the freight of the whole, to be free, and returned and paid by us; and the remaining, which was the greater part, to be ours. The loss of so much troubles us, but we have got a pretty good part, thanks be to God! So we are not displeased nor yet have cause to triumph, as we did once expect. Having seen the end of this, I being desirous to be at home to see the issue of any country letters about my mother, which I expect shall give me tidings of her death, I directly home and there to the office, where I find no letter from my father or brother, but by and by the boy tells me that his mistress sends me word that she hath opened my letter, and that she is loth to send me any more news. So I home, and there up to my wife in our chamber, and there received from my brother the news of my mother’s dying on Monday, about five or six o’clock in the afternoon, and that the last time she spoke of her children was on Friday last, and her last words were, “God bless my poor Sam!” The reading hereof did set me a-weeping heartily, and so weeping to myself awhile, and my wife also to herself, I then spoke to my wife respecting myself, and indeed, having some thoughts how much better both for her and us it is than it might have been had she outlived my father and me or my happy present condition in the world, she being helpless, I was the sooner at ease in my mind, and then found it necessary to go abroad with my wife to look after the providing mourning to send into the country, some tomorrow, and more against Sunday, for my family, being resolved to put myself and wife, and Barker and Jane, W. Hewer and Tom, in mourning, and my two under-maids, to give them hoods and scarfs and gloves. So to my tailor’s, and up and down, and then home and to my office a little, and then to supper and to bed, my heart sad and afflicted, though my judgment at ease.
. My tailor come to me betimes this morning, and having given him directions, I to the office and there all the morning. At noon dined well. Balty, who is mighty thoughtful how to dispose of his wife, and would fain have me provide a place for her, which the thoughts of what I should do with her if he should miscarry at sea makes me avoid the offering him that she should be at my house. I find he is plainly jealous of her being in any place where she may have ill company, and I do pity him for it, and would be glad to help him, and will if I can. Having dined, I down by water with Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and [Sir] R. Ford to our prize, part of whose goods were condemned yesterday—The Lindeboome—and there we did drink some of her wine, very good. But it did grate my heart to see the poor master come on board, and look about into every corner, and find fault that she was not so clean as she used to be, though methought she was very clean; and to see his new masters come in, that had nothing to do with her, did trouble me to see him. Thence to Blackwall and there to Mr. Johnson’s, to see how some works upon some of our repaired ships go on, and at his house eat and drank and mighty extraordinary merry (too merry for me whose mother died so lately, but they know it not, so cannot reproach me therein, though I reproach myself), and in going home had many good stories of Sir W. Batten and one of Sir W. Penn, the most tedious and silly and troublesome (he forcing us to hear him) that ever I heard in my life. So to the office awhile, troubled with Sir W. Penn’s impertinences, he being half foxed at Johnson’s, and so to bed.
. Lay long talking with my wife about Balty, whom I do wish very well to, and would be glad to advise him, for he is very sober and willing to take all pains. Up and to Sir W. Batten, who I find has had some words with Sir W. Penn about the employing of a cooper about our prize wines, [Sir] W. Batten standing and indeed imposing upon us Mr. Morrice, which I like not, nor do [Sir] W. Penn, and I confess the very thoughts of what our goods will come to when we have them do discourage me in going any further in the adventure. Then to the office till noon, doing business, and then to the Exchange, and thence to the Sun Tavern and dined with [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] R. Ford, and the Swede’s Agent to discourse of a composition about our prizes that are condemned, but did do little, he standing upon high terms and we doing the like. I home, and there find Balty and his wife got thither both by my wife for me to give them good advice, for her to be with his father and mother all this time of absence, for saving of money, and did plainly and like a friend tell them my mind of the necessity of saving money, and that if I did not find they did endeavour it, I should not think fit to trouble myself for them, but I see she is utterly against being with his father and mother, and he is fond of her, and I perceive the differences between the old people and them are too great to be presently forgot, and so he do propose that it will be cheaper for him to put her to board at a place he is offered at Lee, and I, seeing that I am not like to be troubled with the finding a place, and having given him so much good advice, do leave them to stand and fall as they please, having discharged myself as a friend, and not likely to be accountable for her nor be troubled with her, if he should miscarry I mean, as to her lodging, and so broke up. Then he and I to make a visit to [Sir] W. Penn, who hath thought fit to show kindness to Balty in this business, indeed though he be a false rogue, but it was he knew a thing easy to do. Thence together to my shoemaker’s, cutler’s, tailor’s, and up and down about my mourning, and in my way do observe the great streets in the city are marked out with piles drove into the ground; and if ever it be built in that form with so fair streets, it will be a noble sight. So to the Council chamber, but stayed not there, but to a periwig-maker’s of his acquaintance, and there bought two periwigs, mighty fine; indeed, too fine, I thought, for me; but he persuaded me, and I did buy them for £4 10s. the two. Then to the Exchange and bought gloves, and so to the Bullhead Tavern, whither he brought my French gun; and one Truelocke, the famous gunsmith, that is a mighty ingenious man, and he did take my gun in pieces, and made me understand the secrets thereof and upon the whole I do find it a very good piece of work, and truly wrought; but for certain not a thing to be used much with safety: and he do find that this very gun was never yet shot off. I was mighty satisfied with it and him, and the sight of so much curiosity of this kind. Here he brought also a haberdasher at my desire, and I bought a hat of him, and so away and called away my wife from his house, and so home and to read, and then to supper and to bed, my head full in behalf of Balty, who tells me strange stories of his mother. Among others, how she, in his absence in Ireland, did pawne all the things that he had got in his service under Oliver, and run of her own accord, without her husband’s leave, into Flanders, and that his purse, and 4s. a week which his father receives of the French church, is all the subsistence his father and mother have, and that about £20 a year maintains them; which, if it please God, I will find one way or other to provide for them, to remove that scandal away.
. Up, and the French periwig maker of whom I bought two yesterday comes with them, and I am very well pleased with them. So to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence with my wife’s knowledge and leave did by coach go see the silly play of my Lady Newcastle’s,3308 called The Humourous Lovers; the most silly thing that ever come upon a stage. I was sick to see it, but yet would not but have seen it, that I might the better understand her. Here I spied Knipp and Betty,3309 of the King’s house, and sent Knipp oranges, but, having little money about me, did not offer to carry them abroad, which otherwise I had, I fear, been tempted to. So with [Sir] W. Penn home (he being at the play also), a most summer evening, and to my office, where, among other things, a most extraordinary letter to the Duke of York touching the want of money and the sad state of the King’s service thereby, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and my tailor’s boy brings my mourning clothes home, and my wife hers and Barker’s, but they go not to church this morning. I to church, and with my mourning, very handsome, and new periwig, make a great show. After church home to dinner, and there come Betty Michell and her husband. I do and shall love her, but, poor wretch, she is now almost ready to lie down. After dinner Balty (who dined also with us) and I with Sir J. Minnes in his coach to Whitehall, but did nothing, but by water to Strand Bridge and thence walked to my Lord Treasurer’s, where the King, Duke of York, and the Caball, and much company without; and a fine day. Anon come out from the Caball my Lord Hollis and Mr. H. Coventry,3310 who, it is conceived, have received their instructions from the King this day; they being to begin their journey towards their treaty at Bredagh speedily, their passes being come. Here I saw the Lady Northumberland3311 and her daughter-in-law, my Lord Treasurer’s daughter, my Lady Piercy,3312 a beautiful lady indeed. So away back by water, and left Balty at Whitehall and I to Mrs. Martin … and so by coach home, and there to my chamber, and then to supper and bed, having not had time to make up my accounts of this month at this very day, but will in a day or two, and pay my forfeit for not doing it, though business hath most hindered me. The month shuts up only with great desires of peace in all of us, and a belief that we shall have a peace, in most people, if a peace can be had on any terms, for there is a necessity of it; for we cannot go on with the war, and our masters are afraid to come to depend upon the good will of the Parliament any more, as I do hear.
April 1667
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes in his coach, set him down at the Treasurer’s Office in Broad Street, and I in his coach to Whitehall, and there had the good fortune to walk with Sir W. Coventry into the garden, and there read our melancholy letter to the Duke of York, which he likes. And so to talk: and he flatly owns that we must have a peace, for we cannot set out a fleet;3313 and, to use his own words, he fears that we shall soon have enough of fighting in this new way, which we have thought on for this year. He bemoans the want of money, and discovers himself jealous that Sir G. Carteret do not look after, or concern himself for getting, money as he used to do, and did say it is true if Sir G. Carteret would only do his work, and my Lord Treasurer would do his own, Sir G. Carteret hath nothing to do to look after money, but if he will undertake my Lord Treasurer’s work to raise money of the Bankers, then people must expect that he will do it, and did further say, that he [Carteret] and my Lord Chancellor do at this very day labour all they can to villify this new way of raising money, and making it payable, as it now is, into the Exchequer; and expressly said that in pursuance hereof, my Lord Chancellor hath prevailed with the King, in the close of his last speech to the House, to say, that he did hope to see them come to give money as it used to be given, without so many provisos, meaning, as Sir W. Coventry says, this new method of the Act. While we were talking, there come Sir Thomas Allen3314 with two ladies; one of which was Mrs. Rebecca Allen, that I knew heretofore, the clerk of the rope-yard’s daughter at Chatham, who, poor heart! come to desire favour for her husband, who is clapped up, being a Lieutenant [Jowles],3315 for sending a challenge to his Captain, in the most saucy, base language that could be writ. I perceive [Sir] W. Coventry is wholly resolved to bring him to punishment; for, “bear with this,” says he, “and no discipline shall ever be expected.” She in this sad condition took no notice of me, nor I of her. So away we to the Duke of York, and there in his closet [Sir] W. Coventry and I delivered the letter, which the Duke of York made not much of, I thought, as to laying it to heart, as the matter deserved, but did promise to look after the getting of money for us, and I believe Sir W. Coventry will add what force he can to it. I did speak to [Sir] W. Coventry about Balty’s warrant, which is ready, and about being Deputy Treasurer, which he very readily and friendlily agreed to, at which I was glad, and so away and by coach back to Broad Street to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there found my brother passing his accounts, which I helped till dinner, and dined there, and many good stories at dinner, among others about discoveries of murder, and Sir J. Minnes did tell of the discovery of his own great-grandfather’s murder, fifteen years after he was murdered. Thence, after dinner, home and by water to Redriffe, and walked (fine weather) to Deptford, and there did business and so back again, walked, and pleased with a jolly femme that I saw going and coming in the way, which je could avoir been contented pour avoir stayed with if I could have gained acquaintance conelle, but at such times as these I am at a great loss, having not confidence, no alcune ready wit. So home and to the office, where late, and then home to supper and bed. This evening Mrs. Turner come to my office, and did walk an hour with me in the garden, telling me stories how Sir Edward Spragge hath lately made love to our neighbour, a widow, Mrs. Hollworthy, who is a woman of estate, and wit and spirit, and do contemn him the most, and sent him away with the greatest scorn in the world; she tells me also odd stories how the parish talks of Sir W. Penn’s family, how poorly they clothe their daughter so soon after marriage, and do say that Mr. Lowther was married once before, and some such thing there hath been, whatever the bottom of it is. But to think of the clatter they make with his coach, and his own fine clothes, and yet how meanly they live within doors, and nastily, and borrowing everything of neighbours is a most shitten thing.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting, and much troubled, but little business done for want of money, which makes me mighty melancholy. At noon home to dinner, and Mr. Deane with me, who hath promised me a very fine draught of the Rupert, which he will make purposely for me with great perfection, which I will make one of the beautifullest things that ever was seen of the kind in the world, she being a ship that will deserve it. Then to the office, where all the afternoon very busy, and in the evening weary home and there to sing, but vexed with the unreadiness of the girl’s voice to learn the latter part of my song, though I confess it is very hard, half notes. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and there did receive the Duke’s order for Balty’s receiving of the contingent money to be paymaster of it, and it pleases me the more for that it is but £1,500, which will be but a little sum for to try his ability and honesty in the disposing of, and so I am the willinger to trust and pass my word for him therein. By and by up to the Duke of York, where our usual business, and among other things I read two most dismal letters of the straits we are in (from Colonel Middleton and Commissioner Taylor) that ever were writ in the world, so as the Duke of York would have them to show the King, and to every demand of money, whereof we proposed many and very pressing ones, Sir G. Carteret could make no answer but no money, which I confess made me almost ready to cry for sorrow and vexation, but that which was the most considerable was when Sir G. Carteret did say that he had no funds to raise money on; and being asked by Sir W. Coventry whether the eleven months’ tax was not a fund, and he answered, “No, that the bankers would not lend money upon it.” Then Sir W. Coventry burst out and said he did supplicate his Royal Highness, and would do the same to the King, that he would remember who they were that did persuade the King from parting with the Chimney-money to the Parliament, and taking that in lieu which they would certainly have given, and which would have raised infallibly ready money; meaning the bankers and the farmers of the Chimney-money, whereof Sir, G. Carteret, I think, is one; saying plainly, that whoever did advise the King to that, did, as much as in them lay, cut the King’s throat, and did wholly betray him; to which the Duke of York did assent; and remembered that the King did say again and again at the time, that he was assured, and did fully believe, the money would be raised presently upon a land-tax. This put as all into a stound; and Sir W. Coventry went on to declare, that he was glad he was come to have so lately3316 concern in the Navy as he hath, for he cannot now give any good account of the Navy business; and that all his work now was to be able to provide such orders as would justify his Royal Highness in the business, when it shall be called to account; and that he do do, not concerning himself whether they are or can be performed, or no; and that when it comes to be examined, and falls on my Lord Treasurer, he cannot help it, whatever the issue of it shall be. Hereupon Sir W. Batten did pray him to keep also by him all our letters that come from the office that may justify us, which he says he do do, and, God knows, it is an ill sign when we are once to come to study how to excuse ourselves. It is a sad consideration, and therewith we broke up, all in a sad posture, the most that ever I saw in my life. One thing more Sir W. Coventry did say to the Duke of York, when I moved again, that of about £9,000 debt to Lanyon,3317 at Plymouth, he might pay £3,700 worth of prize-goods, that he bought lately at the candle, out of this debt due to him from the King; and the Duke of York, and Sir G. Carteret, and Lord Barkeley, saying, all of them, that my Lord Ashly would not be got to yield to it, who is Treasurer of the Prizes, Sir W. Coventry did plainly desire that it might be declared whether the proceeds of the prizes were to go to the helping on of the war, or no; and, if it were, how then could this be denied? which put them all into another stound; and it is true, God forgive us! Thence to the chapel, and there, by chance, hear that Dr. Crew3318 is to preach; and so into the organ-loft, where I met Mr. Carteret, and my Lady Jemimah, and Sir Thomas Crew’s two daughters, and Dr. Childe played; and Dr. Crew did make a very pretty, neat, sober, honest sermon; and delivered it very readily, decently, and gravely, beyond his years: so as I was exceedingly taken with it, and I believe the whole chapel, he being but young; but his manner of his delivery I do like exceedingly. His text was, “But seeke ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” Thence with my Lady to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings, and so up into the house, and there do hear that the Dutch letters are come, and say that the Dutch have ordered a passe to be sent for our Commissioners, and that it is now upon the way, coming with a trumpeter blinded, as is usual. But I perceive everybody begins to doubt the success of the treaty, all their hopes being only that if it can be had on any terms, the Chancellor will have it; for he dare not come before a Parliament, nor a great many more of the courtiers, and the King himself do declare he do not desire it, nor intend it but on a strait; which God defend him from! Here I hear how the King is not so well pleased of this marriage between the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stewart, as is talked; and that he [the Duke] by a wile did fetch her to the Beare, at the Bridge-foot,3319 where a coach was ready, and they are stole away into Kent,3320 without the King’s leave; and that the King hath said he will never see her more; but people do think that it is only a trick. This day I saw Prince Rupert abroad in the Vane-room, pretty well as he used to be, and looks as well, only something appears to be under his periwig on the crown of his head. So home by water, and there find my wife gone abroad to her tailor’s, and I dined alone with W. Hewer, and then to the office to draw up a memorial for the Duke of York this afternoon at the Council about Lanyon’s business. By and by we met by appointment at the office upon a reference to Carcasse’s business to us again from the Duke of York, but a very confident cunning rogue we have found him at length. He carried himself very uncivilly to Sir W. Batten this afternoon, as heretofore, and his silly Lord [Brouncker] pleaded for him, but all will not nor shall not do for ought he shall give, though I love the man as a man of great parts and ability. Thence to Whitehall by water (only asking Betty Michell by the way how she did), and there come too late to do anything at the Council. So by coach to my periwig maker’s and tailor’s, and so home, where I find my wife with her flageolet master, which I wish she would practise, and so to the office, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, and then to Sir W. Penn’s, talking and spending time in vain a little while, and then home up to my chamber, and so to supper and to bed, vexed at two or three things, viz. that my wife’s watch proves so bad as it do; the ill state of the office; and Kingdom’s business; at the charge which my mother’s death for mourning will bring me when all paid.
. Up, and going down found Jervas the barber with a periwig which I had the other day cheapened at Westminster, but it being full of nits, as heretofore his work used to be, I did now refuse it, having bought elsewhere. So to the office till noon, busy, and then (which I think I have not done three times in my life) left the board upon occasion of a letter of Sir W. Coventry, and meeting Balty at my house I took him with me by water, and to the Duke of Albemarle to give him an account of the business, which was the escaping of some soldiers for the manning of a few ships now going out with Harman to the West Indies, which is a sad consideration that at the very beginning of the year and few ships abroad we should be in such want of men that they do hide themselves, and swear they will not go to be killed and have no pay. I find the Duke of Albemarle at dinner with sorry company, some of his officers of the Army; dirty dishes, and a nasty wife at table, and bad meat, of which I made but an ill dinner. Pretty to hear how she talked against Captain Du Tell,3321 the Frenchman, that the Prince and her husband put out the last year; and how, says she, the Duke of York hath made him, for his good services, his Cupbearer; yet he fired more shot into the Prince’s ship, and others of the King’s ships, than of the enemy. And the Duke of Albemarle did confirm it, and that somebody in the fight did cry out that a little Dutchman, by his ship, did plague him more than any other; upon which they were going to order him to be sunk, when they looked and found it was Du Tell, who, as the Duke of Albemarle says, had killed several men in several of our ships. He said, but for his interest, which he knew he had at Court, he had hanged him at the yard’s-arm, without staying for a Court-martiall. One Colonel Howard,3322 at the table, magnified the Duke of Albemarle’s fight in June last, as being a greater action than ever was done by Caesar. The Duke of Albemarle, did say it had been no great action, had all his number fought, as they should have done, to have beat the Dutch; but of his 55 ships, not above 25 fought. He did give an account that it was a fight he was forced to: the Dutch being come in his way, and he being ordered to the buoy of the Nore, he could not pass by them without fighting, nor avoid them without great disadvantage and dishonour; and this Sir G. Carteret, I afterwards giving him an account of what he said, says that it is true, that he was ordered up to the Nore. But I remember he said, had all his captains fought, he would no more have doubted to have beat the Dutch, with all their number, than to eat the apple that lay on his trencher. My Lady Duchess, among other things, discoursed of the wisdom of dividing the fleet;3323 which the General said nothing to, though he knows well that it come from themselves in the fleet, and was brought up hither by Sir Edward Spragge. Colonel Howard, asking how the prince did, the Duke of Albemarle answering, “Pretty well;” the other replied, “But not so well as to go to sea again.”—“How!” says the Duchess, “what should he go for, if he were well, for there are no ships for him to command? And so you have brought your hogs to a fair market,” said she. [It was pretty to hear the Duke of Albemarle himself to wish that they would come on our ground, meaning the French, for that he would pay them, so as to make them glad to go back to France again; which was like a general, but not like an admiral.]3324 One at the table told an odd passage in this late plague: that at Petersfield, I think, he said, one side of the street had every house almost infected through the town, and the other, not one shut up. Dinner being done, I brought Balty to the Duke of Albemarle to kiss his hand and thank him for his kindness the last year to him, and take leave of him, and then Balty and I to walk in the Park, and, out of pity to his father, told him what I had in my thoughts to do for him about the money—that is, to make him Deputy Treasurer of the fleet, which I have done by getting Sir G. Carteret’s consent, and an order from the Duke of York for £1,500 to be paid to him. He promises the whole profit to be paid to my wife, for to be disposed of as she sees fit, for her father and mother’s relief. So mightily pleased with our walk, it being mighty pleasant weather, I back to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there he had newly dined, and talked, and find that he do give everything over for lost, declaring no money to be raised, and let Sir W. Coventry name the man that persuaded the King to take the Land Tax on promise, of raising present money upon it. He will, he says, be able to clear himself enough of it. I made him merry, with telling him how many land-admirals we are to have this year: Allen at Plymouth, Holmes at Portsmouth, Spragge for Medway, Teddiman at Dover, Smith to the Northward, and Harman to the Southward. He did defend to me Sir W. Coventry as not guilty of the dividing of the fleet the last year, and blesses God, as I do, for my Lord Sandwich’s absence, and tells me how the King did lately observe to him how they have been particularly punished that were enemies to my Lord Sandwich. Mightily pleased I am with his family, and my Lady Carteret was on the bed today, having been let blood, and tells me of my Lady Jemimah’s being big-bellied. Thence with him to my Lord Treasurer’s, and there walked during Council sitting with Sir Stephen Fox, talking of the sad condition of the King’s purse, and affairs thereby; and how sad the King’s life must be, to pass by his officers every hour, that are four years behindhand unpaid. My Lord Barkeley [of Stratton] I met with there, and fell into talk with him on the same thing, wishing to God that it might be remedied, to which he answered, with an oath, that it was as easy to remedy it as anything in the world; saying, that there is himself and three more would venture their carcasses upon it to pay all the King’s debts in three years, had they the managing his revenue, and putting £300,000 in his purse, as a stock. But, Lord! what a thing is this to me, that do know how likely a man my Lord Barkeley of all the world is, to do such a thing as this. Here I spoke with Sir W. Coventry, who tells me plainly that to all future complaints of lack of money he will answer but with the shrug of his shoulder; which methought did come to my heart, to see him to begin to abandon the King’s affairs, and let them sink or swim, so he do his own part, which I confess I believe he do beyond any officer the King hath, but unless he do endeavour to make others do theirs, nothing will be done. The consideration here do make me go away very sad, and so home by coach, and there took up my wife and Mercer, who had been today at Whitehall to the Maundy,3325 it being Maundy Thursday; but the King did not wash the poor people’s feet himself, but the Bishop of London did it for him, but I did not see it, and with them took up Mrs. Anne Jones at her mother’s door, and so to take the air to Hackney, where good neat’s tongue, and things to eat and drink, and very merry, the weather being mighty pleasant; and here I was told that at their church they have a fair pair of organs, which play while the people sing, which I am mighty glad of, wishing the like at our church at London, and would give £50 towards it. So very pleasant, and hugging of Mercer in our going home, we home, and then to the office to do a little business, and so to supper at home and to bed.
. Up, and troubled with Mr. Carcasse’s coming to speak with me, which made me give him occasion to fall into a heat, and he began to be ill-mannered to me, which made me angry. He gone, I to Sir W. Penn about the business of Mrs. Turner’s son to keep his ship in employment, but so false a fellow as Sir W. Penn is I never did nor hope shall ever know again. So to the office, and there did business, till dinnertime, and then home to dinner, wife and I alone, and then down to the Old Swan, and drank with Betty and her husband, but no opportunity para baiser la. So to Whitehall to the Council chamber, where I find no Council held till after the holidays. So to Westminster Hall, and there bought a pair of snuffers, and saw Mrs. Howlett after her sickness come to the Hall again. So by coach to the New Exchange and Mercer’s and other places to take up bills for what I owe them, and to Mrs. Pierce, to invite her to dinner with us on Monday, but stayed not with her. In the street met with Mr. Sanchy, my old acquaintance at Cambridge, reckoned a great minister here in the City; and by Sir Richard Ford particularly, which I wonder at; for methinks, in his talk, he is but a mean man. I set him down in Holborne, and I to the Old Exchange, and there to Sir Robert Viner’s, and made up my accounts there, to my great content; but I find they do not keep them so regularly as to be able to do it easily, and truly, and readily, nor would it have been easily stated by anybody on my behalf but myself, several things being to be recalled to memory, which nobody else could have done, and therefore it is fully necessary for me to even accounts with these people as often as I can. So to the ’Change, and there met with Mr. James Houblon, but no hopes, as he sees, of peace whatever we pretend, but we shall be abused by the King of France. Then home to the office, and busy late, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, where Mr. Young was talking about the building of the City again; and he told me that those few churches that are to be new built are plainly not chosen with regard to the convenience of the City; they stand a great many in a cluster about Cornhill; but that all of them are either in the gift of the Lord Archbishop, or Bishop of London, or Lord Chancellor, or gift of the City. Thus all things, even to the building of churches, are done in this world! And then he says, which I wonder at, that I should not in all this time see, that Moorefields have houses two stories high in them, and paved streets, the City having let leases for seven years, which he do conclude will be very much to the hindering the building of the City; but it was considered that the streets cannot be passable in London till a whole street be built; and several that had got ground of the City for charity, to build sheds on, had got the trick presently to sell that for £60, which did not cost them £20 to put up; and so the City, being very poor in stock, thought it as good to do it themselves, and therefore let leases for seven years of the ground in Moorefields; and a good deal of this money, thus advanced, hath been employed for the enabling them to find some money for Commissioner Taylor, and Sir W. Batten, towards the charge of The Loyal London, or else, it is feared, it had never been paid. And Taylor having a bill to pay wherein Alderman Hooker was concerned it was his invention to find out this way of raising money, or else this had not been thought on. So home to supper and to bed. This morning come to me the Collectors for my Pollmoney; for which I paid for my title as Esquire and place of Clerk of Acts, and my head and wife’s, and servants’ and their wages, £40 17s.; and though this be a great deal, yet it is a shame I should pay no more; that is, that I should not be assessed for my pay, as in the Victualling business and Tangier; and for my money, which, of my own accord, I had determined to charge myself with £1,000 money, till coming to the Vestry, and seeing nobody of our ablest merchants, as Sir Andrew Rickard, to do it, I thought it not decent for me to do it, nor would it be thought wisdom to do it unnecessarily, but vain glory.
. Up, and betimes in the morning down to the Tower wharf, there to attend the shipping of soldiers, to go down to man some ships going out, and pretty to see how merrily some, and most go, and how sad others—the leave they take of their friends, and the terms that some wives, and other wenches asked to part with them: a pretty mixture. So to the office, having stayed as long as I could, and there sat all the morning, and then home at noon to dinner, and then abroad, Balty with me, and to Whitehall, by water, to Sir G. Carteret, about Balty’s £1,500 contingent money for the fleet to the West Indies, and so away with him to the Exchange, and mercers and drapers, up and down, to pay all my scores occasioned by this mourning for my mother; and emptied a £50 bag, and it was a joy to me to see that I am able to part with such a sum, without much inconvenience; at least, without any trouble of mind. So to Captain Cocke’s to meet Fenn, to talk about this money for Balty, and there Cocke tells me that he is confident there will be a peace, whatever terms be asked us, and he confides that it will take because the French and Dutch will be jealous one of another which shall give the best terms, lest the other should make the peace with us alone, to the ruin of the third, which is our best defence, this jealousy, for ought I at present see. So home and there very late, very busy, and then home to supper and to bed, the people having got their house very clean against Monday’s dinner.
. Up, and when dressed with my wife (in mourning for my mother) to church both, where Mr. Mills, a lazy sermon. Home to dinner, wife and I and W. Hewer, and after dinner I by water to Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret’s, there to talk about Balty’s money, and did present Balty to him to kiss his hand, and then to walk in the Park, and heard the Italian music at the Queen’s chapel, whose composition is fine, but yet the voices of eunuchs I do not like like our women, nor am more pleased with it at all than with English voices, but that they do jump most excellently with themselves and their instrument, which is wonderful pleasant; but I am convinced more and more, that, as every nation has a particular accent and tone in discourse, so as the tone of one not to agree with or please the other, no more can the fashion of singing to words, for that the better the words are set, the more they take in of the ordinary tone of the country whose language the song speaks, so that a song well composed by an Englishman must be better to an Englishman than it can be to a stranger, or than if set by a stranger in foreign words. Thence back to Whitehall, and there saw the King come out of chapel after prayers in the afternoon, which he is never at but after having received the Sacrament: and the Court, I perceive, is quite out of mourning; and some very fine; among others, my Lord Gerard, in a very rich vest and coat. Here I met with my Lord Bellasses: and it is pretty to see what a formal story he tells me of his leaving his place upon the death of my Lord Cleveland,3326 by which he is become Captain of the Pensioners; and that the King did leave it to him to keep the other or take this; whereas, I know the contrary, that they had a mind to have him away from Tangier. He tells me he is commanded by the King to go down to the Northward to satisfy the Deputy Lieutenants of Yorkshire, who have desired to lay down their commissions upon pretence of having no profit by their places but charge, but indeed is upon the Duke of Buckingham’s being under a cloud (of whom there is yet nothing heard), so that the King is apprehensive of their discontent, and sends him to pacify them, and I think he is as good a dissembler as any man else, and a fine person he is for person, and proper to lead the Pensioners, but a man of no honour nor faith I doubt. So to Sir G. Carteret’s again to talk with him about Balty’s money, and wrote a letter to Portsmouth about part of it, and then in his coach, with his little daughter Porpot (as he used to nickname her), and saw her at home, and her maid, and another little gentlewoman, and so I walked into Moore Fields, and, as is said, did find houses built two stories high, and like to stand; and it must become a place of great trade, till the City be built; and the street is already paved as London streets used to be, which is a strange, and to me an unpleasing sight. So home and to my chamber about sending an express to Portsmouth about Balty’s money, and then comes Mrs. Turner to enquire after her son’s business, which goes but bad, which led me to show her how false Sir W. Penn is to her, whereupon she told me his obligations to her, and promises to her, and how a while since he did show himself dissatisfied in her son’s coming to the table and applying himself to me, which is a good nut, and a nut I will make use of. She gone I to other business in my chamber, and then to supper and to bed. The Swede’s Embassadors and our Commissioners are making all the haste they can over to the treaty for peace, and I find at Court, and particularly Lord Bellasses, says there will be a peace, and it is worth remembering what Sir W. Coventry did tell me (as a secret though) that whereas we are afeard Harman’s fleet to the West Indies will not be got out before the Dutch come and block us up, we shall have a happy pretext to get out our ships under pretence of attending the Embassadors and Commissioners, which is a very good, but yet a poor shift.
. Up, and having dressed myself, to the office a little, and out, expecting to have seen the pretty daughter of the Ship tavern at the hither end of Billiter Lane (whom I never yet have opportunity to speak to). I in there to drink my morning draught of half a pint of Rhenish wine; but a ma doleur elle and their family are going away thence, and a new man come to the house. So I away to the Temple, to my new bookseller’s; and there I did agree for Rycaut’s late History of the Turkish Policy,3327 which costs me 55s.; whereas it was sold plain before the late fire for 8s., and bound and coloured as this is for 20s.; for I have bought it finely bound and truly coloured, all the figures, of which there was but six books done so, whereof the King and Duke of York, and Duke of Monmouth, and Lord Arlington, had four. The fifth was sold, and I have bought the sixth. So to enquire out Mrs. Knipp’s new lodging, but could not, but do hear of her at the Playhouse, where she was practising, and I sent for her out by a porter, and the jade come to me all undressed, so cannot go home to my house to dinner, as I had invited her, which I was not much troubled at, because I think there is a distance between her and Mrs. Pierce, and so our company would not be so pleasant. So home, and there find all things in good readiness for a good dinner, and here unexpectedly I find little Mis. Tooker, whom my wife loves not from the report of her being already naught; however, I do show her countenance, and by and by come my guests, Dr. Clerke and his wife, and Mrs. Worship,3328 and her daughter; and then Mr. Pierce and his wife, and boy, and Betty; and then I sent for Mercer; so that we had, with my wife and I, twelve at table, and very good and pleasant company, and a most neat and excellent, but dear dinner; but, Lord! to see with what envy they looked upon all my fine plate was pleasant; for I made the best show I could, to let them understand me and my condition, to take down the pride of Mrs. Clerke, who thinks herself very great. We sat long, and very merry, and all things agreeable; and, after dinner, went out by coaches, thinking to have seen a play, but come too late to both houses, and then they had thoughts of going abroad somewhere; but I thought all the charge ought not to be mine, and therefore I endeavoured to part the company, and so ordered it to set them all down at Mrs. Pierce’s; and there my wife and I and Mercer left them in good humour, and we three to the King’s house, and saw the latter end of the Surprisall,3329 wherein was no great matter, I thought, by what I saw there. Thence away to “Polichinello,”3330 and there had three times more sport than at the play, and so home, and there the first night we have been this year in the garden late, we three and our Barker singing very well, and then home to supper, and so broke up, and to bed mightily pleased with this day’s pleasure.
. Up, and to the office a while, none of my fellow officers coming to sit, it being holiday, and so towards noon I to the Exchange, and there do hear mighty cries for peace, and that otherwise we shall be undone; and yet I do suspect the badness of the peace we shall make. Several do complain of abundance of land flung up by tenants out of their hands for want of ability to pay their rents; and by name, that the Duke of Buckingham hath £6,000 so flung up. And my father writes, that Jasper Trice,3331 upon this pretence of his tenants’ dealing with him, is broke up housekeeping, and gone to board with his brother, Naylor, at Offord; which is very sad. So home to dinner, and after dinner I took coach and to the King’s house, and by and by comes after me my wife with W. Hewer and his mother and Barker, and there we saw The Taming of a Shrew, which hath some very good pieces in it, but generally is but a mean play; and the best part, “Sawny,”3332 done by Lacy, hath not half its life, by reason of the words, I suppose, not being understood, at least by me. After the play was done, as I come so I went away alone, and had a mind to have taken out Knipp to have taken the air with her, and to that end sent a porter in to her that she should take a coach and come to me to the Piatza in Covent Garden, where I waited for her, but was doubtful I might have done ill in doing it if we should be vistiensemble, sedelle was gone out, and so I was eased of my care, and therefore away to Westminster to the Swan, and there did baiser la little missa … and drank, and then by water to the Old Swan, and there found Betty Michell sitting at the door, it being darkish. I stayed and talked a little with her, but no once baiser la, though she was to my thinking at this time une de plus pretty mohers that ever I did voir in my vida, and God forgive me my mind did run sobreelle all the vespre and night and la day suivante. So home and to the office a little, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, where he tells me how he hath found his lady’s jewels again, which have been so long lost, and a servant imprisoned and arraigned, and they were in her closet under a china cup, where he hath servants will swear they did look in searching the house; but Mrs. Turner and I, and others, do believe that they were only disposed of by my Lady, in case she had died, to some friends of hers, and now laid there again. So home to supper, and to read the book I bought yesterday of the Turkish policy, which is a good book, well writ, and so owned by Dr. Clerke yesterday to me, commending it mightily to me for my reading as the only book of the subject that ever was writ, yet so designedly. So to bed.
. Up, and to my office a little, and then, in the garden, find Sir W. Penn; and he and I to Sir W. Batten, where he tells us news of the new disorders of Hogg and his men in taking out of 30 tons of wine out of a prize of ours, which makes us mad; and that, added to the unwillingness of the men to go longer abroad without money, do lead us to conclude not to keep her abroad any longer, of which I am very glad, for I do not like our doings with what we have already got, Sir W. Batten ordering the disposal of our wines and goods, and he leaves it to Morrice the cooper, who I take to be a cunning proud knave, so that I am very desirous to adventure no further. So away by water from the Old Swan to Whitehall, and there to Sir W. Coventry’s, with whom I stayed a great while longer than I have done these many months, and had opportunity of talking with him, and he do declare himself troubled that he hath anything left him to do in the Navy, and would be glad to part with his whole profits and concernments in it, his pains and care being wholly ineffectual during this lack of money; the expense growing infinite, the service not to be done, and discipline and order not to be kept, only from want of money. I begun to discourse with him the business of Tangier, which by the removal of my Lord Bellasses, is now to have a new Governor; and did move him, that at this season all the business of reforming the garrison might be considered, while nobody was to be offended; and I told him it is plain that we do overspend our revenue: that the place is of no more profit to the King than it was the first day, nor in itself of better credit; no more people of condition willing to live there, nor anything like a place likely to turn his Majesty to account: that it hath been hitherto, and, for aught I see, likely only to be used as a job to do a kindness to some Lord, or he that can get to be Governor. Sir W. Coventry agreed with me, so as to say, that unless the King hath the wealth of the Mogul, he would be a beggar to have his businesses ordered in the manner they now are: that his garrisons must be made places only of convenience to particular persons that he hath moved the Duke of York in it; and that it was resolved to send no Governor thither till there had been Commissioners sent to put the garrison in order, so as that he that goes may go with limitations and rules to follow, and not to do as he please, as the rest have hitherto done. That he is not afeard to speak his mind, though to the displeasure of any man; and that I know well enough; but that, when it is come, as it is now, that to speak the truth in behalf of the King plainly do no good, but all things bore down by other measures than by what is best for the King, he hath no temptation to be perpetually fighting of battles, it being more easy to him do those terms to suffer things to go on without giving any man offence, than to have the same thing done, and he contract the displeasure of all the world, as he must do, that will be for the King. I did offer him to draw up my thoughts in this matter to present to the Duke of York, which he approved of, and I do think to do it. So away, and by coach going home saw Sir G. Carteret going towards Whitehall. So ’light and by water met him, and with him to the King’s little chapel; and afterwards to see the King heal the King’s Evil, wherein no pleasure, I having seen it before;3333 and then to see him and the Queen and Duke of York and his wife, at dinner in the Queen’s lodgings; and so with Sir G. Carteret to his lodgings to dinner; where very good company; and after dinner he and I to talk alone how things are managed, and to what ruin we must come if we have not a peace. He did tell me one occasion, how Sir Thomas Allen, which I took for a man of known courage and service on the King’s side, was tried for his life in Prince Rupert’s fleet, in the late times, for cowardice, and condemned to be hanged, and fled to Jersey; where Sir G. Carteret received him, not knowing the reason of his coming thither: and that thereupon Prince Rupert wrote to the Queen-Mother his dislike of Sir G. Carteret’s receiving a person that stood condemned; and so Sir G. Carteret was forced to bid him betake himself to some other place. This was strange to me. Our Commissioners are preparing to go to Bredah to the treaty, and do design to be going the next week.3334 So away by coach home, where there should have been a meeting about Carcasse’s business, but only my Lord and I met, and so broke up, Carcasse having only read his answer to his charge, which is well writ, but I think will not prove to his advantage, for I believe him to be a very rogue. So home, and Balty and I to look Mr. Fenn at Sir G. Carteret’s office in Broad Street, and there missing him and at the banker’s hard by, we home, and I down by water to Deptford Dockyard, and there did a little business, and so home back again all the way reading a little piece I lately bought, called The Virtuoso, or the Stoic,3335 proposing many things paradoxical to our common opinions, wherein in some places he speaks well, but generally is but a sorry man. So home and to my chamber to enter my two last days’ journal, and this, and then to supper and to bed. Blessed be God! I hear that my father is better and better, and will, I hope, live to enjoy some cheerful days more; but it is strange what he writes me, that Mr. Weaver, of Huntingdon, who was a lusty, likely, and but a youngish man, should be dead.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and (which is now rare, he having not been with us twice I think these six months) Sir G. Carteret come to us upon some particular business of his office, and went away again. At noon I to the ’Change, and there hear by Mr. Hublon of the loss of a little East Indiaman, valued at about £20,000, coming home alone, and safe to within ten leagues of Scilly, and there snapt by a French Caper.3336 Our merchants do much pray for peace; and he tells me that letters are come that the Dutch have stopped the fitting of their great ships, and the coming out of a fleet of theirs of 50 sail, that was ready to come out; but I doubt the truth of it yet. Thence to Sir G. Carteret, by his invitation to his office, where my Lady was, and dined with him, and very merry and good people they are, when pleased, as any I know. After dinner I to the office, where busy till evening, and then with Balty to Sir G. Carteret’s office, and there with Mr. Fenn despatched the business of Balty’s £1,500 he received for the contingencies of the fleet, whereof he received about £253 in pieces of eight at a goldsmith’s there hard by, which did puzzle me and him to tell; for I could not tell the difference by sight, only by bigness, and that is not always discernible, between a whole and half-piece and quarterpiece. Having received this money I home with Balty and it, and then abroad by coach with my wife and set her down at her father’s, and I to Whitehall, thinking there to have seen the Duchess of Newcastle’s coming this night to Court, to make a visit to the Queen, the King having been with her yesterday, to make her a visit since her coming to town. The whole story of this lady is a romance, and all she do is romantick. Her footmen in velvet coats, and herself in an antique dress, as they say; and was the other day at her own play, The Humourous Lovers; the most ridiculous thing that ever was wrote, but yet she and her Lord mightily pleased with it; and she, at the end, made her respects to the players from her box, and did give them thanks. There is as much expectation of her coming to Court, that so people may come to see her, as if it were the Queen of Sheba;3337 but I lost my labour, for she did not come this night. So, meeting Mr. Brisband, he took me up to my Lady Jemimah’s chamber, who is let blood today, and so there we sat and talked an hour, I think, very merry and one odd thing or other, and so away, and I took up my wife at her tailor’s (whose wife is brought to bed, and my wife must be godmother), and so with much ado got a coach to carry us home, it being late, and so to my chamber, having little left to do at my office, my eyes being a little sore by reason of my reading a small printed book the other day after it was dark, and so to supper and to bed. It comes in my head to set down that there have been two fires in the City, as I am told for certain, and it is so, within this week.
. Up, and when ready, and to my office, to do a little business, and, coming homeward again, saw my door and hatch open, left so by Luce, our cook-maid, which so vexed me, that I did give her a kick in our entry, and offered a blow at her, and was seen doing so by Sir W. Penn’s footboy, which did vex me to the heart, because I know he will be telling their family of it; though I did put on presently a very pleasant face to the boy, and spoke kindly to him, as one without passion, so as it may be he might not think I was angry, but yet I was troubled at it. So away by water to Whitehall, and there did our usual business before the Duke of York; but it fell out that, discoursing of matters of money, it rose to a mighty heat, very high words arising between Sir G. Carteret and [Sir] W. Coventry, the former in his passion saying that the other should have helped things if they were so bad; and the other answered, so he would, and things should have been better had he been Treasurer of the Navy. I was mightily troubled at this heat, and it will breed ill blood, I fear; but things are in that bad condition that I do daily expect when we shall all fly in one another’s faces, when we shall be reduced, every one, to answer for himself. We broke up; and I soon after to Sir G. Carteret’s chamber, where I find the poor man telling his lady privately, and she weeping. I went into them, and did seem, as indeed I was, troubled for this; and did give the best advice I could, which, I think, did please them: and they do apprehend me their friend, as indeed I am, for I do take the Vice-chamberlain for a most honest man. He did assure me that he was not, all expenses and things paid, clear in estate £15,000 better than he was when the King come in; and that the King and Lord Chancellor did know that he was worth, with the debt the King owed him, £50,000, I think, he said, when the King come into England. I did pacify all I could, and then away by water home, there to write letters and things for the dispatch of Balty away this day to sea; and after dinner he did go, I having given him much good counsell; and I have great hopes that he will make good use of it, and be a good man, for I find him willing to take pains and very sober. He being gone, I close at my office all the afternoon getting off of hand my papers, which, by the late holidays and my laziness, were grown too many upon my hands, to my great trouble, and therefore at it as late as my eyes would give me leave, and then by water down to Redriffe, meaning to meet my wife, who is gone with Mercer, Barker, and the boy (it being most sweet weather) to walk, and I did meet with them, and walked back, and then by the time we got home it was dark, and we stayed singing in the garden till supper was ready, and there with great pleasure. But I tried my girls Mercer and Barker singly one after another, a single song, “At dead low ebb,” etc., and I do clearly find that as to manner of singing the latter do much the better, the other thinking herself as I do myself above taking pains for a manner of singing, contenting ourselves with the judgment and goodness of ear. So to supper, and then parted and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and strange how the false fellow Commissioner Pett was eager to have had Carcasse’s business brought on today that he might give my Lord Brouncker (who hates him, I am sure, and hath spoke as much against him to the King in my hearing as any man) a cast of his office in pleading for his man Carcasse, but I did prevent its being brought on today, and so broke up, and I home to dinner, and after dinner with a little singing with some pleasure alone with my poor wife, and then to the office, where sat all the afternoon till late at night, and then home to supper and to bed, my eyes troubling me still after candlelight, which troubles me. Wrote to my father, who, I am glad to hear, is at some ease again, and I long to have him in town, that I may see what can be done for him here; for I would fain do all I can that I may have him live, and take pleasure in my doing well in the world. This afternoon come Mrs. Lowther to me to the office, and there je did toker ses mamelles and did baiser them and su bocca, which she took fort willingly. …
. Up, and to read a little in my new History of Turkey, and so with my wife to church, and then home, where is little Michell and my pretty Betty and also Mercer, and very merry. A good dinner of roast beef. After dinner I away to take water at the Tower, and thence to Westminster, where Mrs. Martin was not at home. So to Whitehall, and there walked up and down, and among other things visited Sir G. Carteret, and much talk with him, who is discontented, as he hath reason, to see how things are like to come all to naught, and it is very much that this resolution of having of country Admirals should not come to his ears till I told him the other day, so that I doubt who manages things. From him to Margaret’s Church, and there spied Martin, and home with her … but fell out to see her expensefullness, having bought Turkey work, chairs, etc. By and by away home, and there took out my wife, and the two Mercers, and two of our maids, Barker and Jane, and over the water to the Jamaica House,3338 where I never was before, and there the girls did run for wagers over the bowling-green; and there, with much pleasure, spent little, and so home, and they home, and I to read with satisfaction in my book of Turkey, and so to bed.
. Lay long in bed, and by and by called up by Sir H. Cholmly, who tells me that my Lord Middleton is for certain chosen Governor of Tangier; a man of moderate understanding, not covetous, but a soldier of fortune, and poor. Here comes Mr. Sanchy with an impertinent business to me of a ticket, which I put off. But by and by comes Dr. Childe by appointment, and sat with me all the morning making me bases and inward parts to several songs that I desired of him, to my great content. Then dined, and then abroad by coach, and I set him down at Hatton Garden, and I to the King’s house by chance, where a new play: so full as I never saw it; I forced to stand all the while close to the very door till I took cold, and many people went away for want of room. The King, and Queen, and Duke of York and Duchess there, and all the Court, and Sir W. Coventry. The play called The Change of Crowns;3339 a play of Ned Howard’s,3340 the best that ever I saw at that house, being a great play and serious; only Lacy did act the country-gentleman come up to Court, who do abuse the Court with all the imaginable wit and plainness about selling of places, and doing everything for money. The play took very much. Thence I to my new bookseller’s, and there bought Hooker’s Polity,3341 the new edition, and Dugdale’s History of the Inns of Court,3342 of which there was but a few saved out of the fire, and Playford’s new Catch-book, that hath a great many new fooleries in it. Then home, a little at the office, and then to supper and to bed, mightily pleased with the new play.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, at noon home to dinner, and thence in haste to carry my wife to see the new play I saw yesterday, she not knowing it. But there, contrary to expectation, find The Silent Woman. However, in; and there Knipp come into the pit. I took her by me, and here we met with Mrs. Horsley, the pretty woman—an acquaintance of Mercer’s, whose house is burnt. Knipp tells me the King was so angry at the liberty taken by Lacy’s part3343 to abuse him to his face, that he commanded they should act no more, till Moone3344 went and got leave for them to act again, but not this play. The King mighty angry; and it was bitter indeed, but very true and witty. I never was more taken with a play than I am with this Silent Woman, as old as it is, and as often as I have seen it. There is more wit in it than goes to ten new plays. Thence with my wife and Knipp to Mrs. Pierce’s, and saw her closet again, and liked her picture. Thence took them all to the Cake-house, in Southampton Marketplace,3345 where Pierce told us the story how, in good earnest, [the King] is offended with the Duke of Richmond’s marrying, and Mrs. Stewart’s sending the King his jewels again. As she tells it, it is the noblest romance and example of a brave lady that ever I read in my life. Pretty to hear them talk of yesterday’s play, and I durst not own to my wife to have seen it. Thence home and to [Sir] W. Batten’s, where we have made a bargain for the ending of some of the trouble about some of our prizes for £1,400. So home to look on my new books that I have lately bought, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with the two Sir Williams by coach to the Duke of York, who is come to St. James’s, the first time we have attended him there this year. In our way, in Tower Street, we saw Desbrough3346 walking on foot: who is now no more a prisoner, and looks well, and just as he used to do heretofore. When we come to the Duke of York’s I was spoke to by Mr. Brouncker on behalf of Carcasse. Thence by coach to Sir G. Carteret’s, in London, there to pass some accounts of his, and at it till dinner, and then to work again a little, and then go away, and my wife being sent for by me to the New Exchange I took her up, and there to the King’s playhouse (at the door met with W. Joyce in the street, who come to our coach side, but we in haste took no notice of him, for which I was sorry afterwards, though I love not the fellow, yet for his wife’s sake), and saw a piece of Rollo,3347 a play I like not much, but much good acting in it: the house very empty. So away home, and I a little to the office, and then to Sir Robert Viner’s, and so back, and find my wife gone down by water to take a little air, and I to my chamber and there spent the night in reading my new book, Origines Juridiciales, which pleases me. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to read more in the Origines, and then to the office, where the news is strong that not only the Dutch cannot set out a fleet this year, but that the French will not, and that he hath given the answer to the Dutch Embassador, saying that he is for the King of England’s having an honourable peace, which, if true, is the best news we have had a good while. At the office all the morning, and there pleased with the little pretty Deptford woman I have wished for long, and she hath occasion given her to come again to me. After office I to the ’Change a little, and then home and to dinner, and then by coach with my wife to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw The Wits,3348 a play I formerly loved, and is now corrected and enlarged: but, though I like the acting, yet I like not much in the play now. The Duke of York and [Sir] W. Coventry gone to Portsmouth, makes me thus to go to plays. So home, and to the office a little and then home, where I find Goodgroome, and he and I did sing several things over, and tried two or three grace parts in Playford’s new book, my wife pleasing me in singing her part of the things she knew, which is a comfort to my very heart. So he being gone we to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, doing a great deal of business. At noon to dinner betimes, and then my wife and I by coach to the Duke’s house, calling at Lovett’s, where I find my Lady Castlemayne’s picture not yet done, which has lain so many months there, which vexes me, but I mean not to trouble them more after this is done. So to the playhouse, not much company come, which I impute to the heat of the weather, it being very hot. Here we saw Macbeth,3349 which, though I have seen it often, yet is it one of the best plays for a stage, and variety of dancing and music, that ever I saw. So being very much pleased, thence home by coach with young Goodyer and his own sister, who offered us to go in their coach. A good-natured youth I believe he is, but I fear will mind his pleasures too much. She is pretty, and a modest, brown girl. Set us down, so my wife and I into the garden, a fine moonshine evening, and there talking, and among other things she tells me that she finds by W. Hewer that my people do observe my minding my pleasure more than usual, which I confess, and am ashamed of, and so from this day take upon me to leave it till Whitsunday. While we were sitting in the garden comes Mrs. Turner to advise about her son, the Captain, when I did give her the best advice I could, to look out for some land employment for him, a peace being at hand, when few ships will be employed and very many, and these old Captains, to be provided for. Then to other talk, and among the rest about Sir W. Penn’s being to buy Wansted House of Sir Robert Brookes, but has put him off again, and left him the other day to pay for a dinner at a tavern, which she says our parishioner, Mrs. Hollworthy,3350 talks of; and I dare be hanged if ever he could mean to buy that great house, that knows not how to furnish one that is not the tenth part so big. Thence I to my chamber to write a little, and then to bed, having got a mighty cold in my right ear and side of my throat, and in much trouble with it almost all the night.
. Up, with much pain in my ear and palate. To the office out of humour all the morning. At noon dined, and with my wife to the King’s house, but there found the bill torn down and no play acted, and so being in the humour to see one, went to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw The Witts again, which likes me better than it did the other day, having much wit in it. Here met with Mr. Rolt, who tells me the reason of no play today at the King’s house. That Lacy had been committed to the porter’s lodge for his acting his part in the late new play, and that being thence released he come to the King’s house, there met with Ned Howard, the poet of the play, who congratulated his release; upon which Lacy cursed him as that it was the fault of his nonsensical play that was the cause of his ill usage. Mr. Howard did give him some reply; to which Lacy [answered] him, that he was more a fool than a poet; upon which Howard did give him a blow on the face with his glove; on which Lacy, having a cane in his hand, did give him a blow over the pate. Here Rolt and others that discoursed of it in the pit this afternoon did wonder that Howard did not run him through, he being too mean a fellow to fight with. But Howard did not do anything but complain to the King of it; so the whole house is silenced, and the gentry seem to rejoice much at it, the house being become too insolent. Here were many fine ladies this afternoon at this house as I have at any time seen, and so after the play home and there wrote to my father, and then to walk in the garden with my wife, resolving by the grace of God to see no more plays till Whitsuntide, I having now seen a play every day this week till I have neglected my business, and that I am ashamed of, being found so much absent; the Duke of York and Sir W. Coventry having been out of town at Portsmouth did the more embolden me thereto. So home, and having brought home with me from Fenchurch Street a hundred of sparrowgrass3351 cost 18d. We had them and a little bit of salmon, which my wife had a mind to, cost 3s. So to supper, and my pain being somewhat better in my throat, we to bed.
. Up, and John, a hackney coachman whom of late I have much used, as being formerly Sir W. Penn’s coachman, coming to me by my direction to see whether I would use him today or no, I took him to our backgate to look upon the ground which is to be let there, where I have a mind to buy enough to build a coach-house and stable; for I have had it much in my thoughts lately that it is not too much for me now, in degree or cost, to keep a coach, but contrarily, that I am almost ashamed to be seen in a hackney, and therefore if I can have the conveniency, I will secure the ground at least till peace comes, that I do receive encouragement to keep a coach, or else that I may part with the ground again. The place I like very well, being close to my own house, and so resolve to go about it, and so home and with my wife to church, and then to dinner, Mercer with us, with design to go to Hackney to church in the afternoon. So after dinner she and I sung Suo Moro, which is one of the best pieces of music to my thinking that ever I did hear in my life; then took coach and to Hackney church, where very full, and found much difficulty to get pews, I offering the sexton money, and he could not help me. So my wife and Mercer ventured into a pew, and I into another. A knight and his lady very civil to me when they come, and the like to my wife in hers, being Sir G. Viner3352 and his lady—rich in jewels, but most in beauty—almost the finest woman that ever I saw. That which we went chiefly to see was the young ladies of the schools3353 whereof there is great store, very pretty; and also the organ, which is handsome, and tunes the psalm, and plays with the people; which is mighty pretty, and makes me mighty earnest to have a pair at our church, I having almost a mind to give them a pair, if they would settle a maintenance on them for it. I am mightily taken with them. So, church done, we to coach and away to Kingsland and Islington, and there eat and drank at the Old House, and so back, it raining a little, which is mighty welcome, it having not rained in many weeks, so that they say it makes the fields just now mighty sweet. So with great pleasure home by night. Set down Mercer, and I to my chamber, and there read a great deal in Rycaut’s Turkey book with great pleasure, and so eat and to bed. My sore throat still troubling me, but not so much. This night I do come to full resolution of diligence for a good while, and I hope God will give me the grace and wisdom to perform it.
. Up pretty betimes, my throat better, and so drest me, and to Whitehall to see Sir W. Coventry, returned from Portsmouth, whom I am almost ashamed to see for fear he should have been told how often I have been at plays, but it is better to see him at first than afterward. So walked to the Old Swan and drank at Michell’s, and then to Whitehall and over the Park to St. James’s to [Sir] W. Coventry, where well received, and good discourse. He seems to be sure of a peace; that the King of France do not intend to set out a fleet, for that he do design Flanders. Our Embassadors set out this week. Thence I over the Park to Sir G. Carteret, and after him by coach to the Lord Chancellor’s house, the first time I have been therein;3354 and it is very noble, and brave pictures of the ancient and present nobility, never saw better. Thence with him to London, mighty merry in the way. Thence home, and find the boy out of the house and office, and by and by comes in and hath been to Mercer’s. I did pay his coat for him. Then to my chamber, my wife comes home with linen she hath been buying of. I then to dinner, and then down the river to Greenwich, and the watermen would go no further. So I turned them off, giving them nothing, and walked to Woolwich; there did some business, and met with Captain Cocke and back with him. He tells me our peace is agreed on; we are not to assist the Spanyard against the French for this year, and no restitution, and we are likely to lose Poleroone.3355 I know not whether this be true or no, but I am for peace on any terms. He tells me how the King was vexed the other day for having no paper laid him at the Council-table, as was usual; and Sir Richard Browne3356 did tell his Majesty he would call the person3357 whose work it was to provide it: who being come, did tell his Majesty that he was but a poor man, and was out £400 or £500 for it, which was as much as he is worth; and that he cannot provide it any longer without money, having not received a penny since the King’s coming in. So the King spoke to my Lord Chamberlain; and many such mementos the King do nowadays meet withall, enough to make an ingenuous man mad. I to Deptford, and there scolded with a master for his ship’s not being gone, and so home to the office and did business till my eyes are sore again, and so home to sing, and then to bed, my eyes failing me mightily.
. The feast being kept at Whitehall, out of design, as it is thought, to make the best countenance we can to the Swede’s Embassadors,3358 before their leaving us to go to the treaty abroad, to show some jollity. We sat at the office all the morning. Word is brought me that young Michell is come to call my wife to his wife’s labour, and she went, and I at the office full of expectation what to hear from poor Betty Michell. This morning much to do with Sir W. Warren, all whose applications now are to Lord Brouncker, and I am against him now, not professedly, but apparently in discourse, and will be. At noon home to dinner, where alone, and after dinner to my music papers, and by and by comes in my wife, who gives me the good news that the midwife and she alone have delivered poor Betty of a pretty girl, which I am mighty glad of, and she in good condition, my wife as well as I mightily pleased with it. Then to the office to do things towards the post, and then my wife and I set down at her mother’s, and I up and down to do business, but did little; and so to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did hazer what I would con her, and then called my wife and to little Michell’s, where we saw the little child, which I like mightily, being I allow very pretty, and asked her how she did, being mighty glad of her doing well, and so home to the office, and then to my chamber, and so to bed.
. Up, and with [Sir] W. Penn to St. James’s, and there the Duke of York was preparing to go to some further ceremonies about the Garter, that he could give us no audience. Thence to Westminster Hall, the first day of the Term, and there joyed Mrs. Michell, who is mightily pleased with my wife’s work yesterday, and so away to my barber’s about my periwig, and then to the Exchange, there to meet Fenn about some money to be borrowed of the office of the Ordnance to answer a great pinch. So home to dinner, and in the afternoon met by agreement (being put on it by Harry Brouncker’s frighting us into a despatch of Carcasse’s business) [Lord] Brouncker, T. Harvey, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, and I (Sir W. Penn keeping out of the way still), where a great many high words from Brouncker, and as many from me and others to him, and to better purpose, for I think we have fortified ourselves to overthrow his man Carcasse, and to do no honour to him. We rose with little done but great heat, not to be reconciled I doubt, and I care not, for I will be on the right side, and that shall keep me. Thence by coach to Sir John Duncomb’s lodging in the Pell Mell3359 in order to the money spoken of in the morning; and there awhile sat and discoursed: and I find him that he is a very proper man for business, being very resolute and proud, and industrious. He told me what reformation they had made in the office of the Ordnance, taking away Legge’s3360 fees: and have got an order that no Treasurer after him shall ever sit at the Board; and it is a good one: that no master of the Ordnance here shall ever sell a place. He tells me they have not paid any increase of price for anything during this war, but in most have paid less; and at this day have greater stores than they know where to lay, if there should be peace, and than ever was any time this war. That they pay every man in course, and have notice of the disposal of every farthing. Every man that they owe money to has his share of every sum they receive; never borrowed all this war but £30,000 by the King’s express command, but do usually stay till their assignments become payable in their own course, which is the whole mystery, that they have had assignments for a fifth part of whatever was assigned to the Navy. They have power of putting out and in of all officers; are going upon a building that will cost them £12,000; that they out of their stock of tallies have been forced to help the Treasurer of the Navy at this great pinch. Then to talk of news: that he thinks the want of money hath undone the King, for the Parliament will never give the King more money without calling all people to account, nor, as he believes, will ever make war again, but they will manage it themselves: unless, which I proposed, he would visibly become a severer inspector into his own business and accounts, and that would gain upon the Parliament yet: which he confesses and confirms as the only lift to set him upon his legs, but says that it is not in his nature ever to do. He says that he believes but four men (such as he could name) would do the business of both offices, his and ours, and if ever the war were to be again it should be so, he believes. He told me to my face that I was a very good clerk, and did understand the business and do it very well, and that he would never desire a better. He do believe that the Parliament, if ever they meet, will offer some alterations to the King, and will turn some of us out, and I protest I think he is in the right that either they or the King will be advised to some regulations, and therefore I ought to beware, as it is easy for me to keep myself up if I will. He thinks that much of our misfortune hath been for want of an active Lord Treasurer, and that such a man as Sir W. Coventry would do the business thoroughly. This talk being over, comes his boy and tells us [Sir] W. Coventry is come in, and so he and I to him, and there told the difficulty of getting this money, and they did play hard upon Sir G. Carteret as a man moped and stunned, not knowing which way to turn himself. Sir W. Coventry cried that he was disheartened, and I do think that there is much in it, but Sir J. Duncomb do charge him with mighty neglect in the pursuing of his business, and that he do not look after it himself, but leaves it to Fenn, so that I do perceive that they are resolved to scheme at bringing the business into a better way of execution, and I think it needs, that is the truth of it. So I away to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings about this money, and contrary to expectation I find he hath prevailed with Legge on his own bond to lend him £2,000, which I am glad of, but, poor man, he little sees what observations people do make upon his management, and he is not a man fit to be told what one hears. Thence by water at 10 at night from Westminster Bridge, having kissed little Frank, and so to the Old Swan, and walked home by moonshine, and there to my chamber a while, and supper and to bed.
. Received a writ from the Exchequer this morning of distrain for £70,000, which troubled me, though it be but matter of form. To the office, where sat all the morning. At noon my wife being to Unthanke’s christening, I to Sir W. Batten’s to dinner, where merry, and the rather because we are like to come to some good end in another of our prizes. Thence by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, and there being come too soon to the New Exchange, but did nothing, and back again, and there found my Lord Brouncker and T. Harvy, and walked in a room very merrily discoursing. By and by comes my Lord Ashly and tells us my Lord Treasurer is ill and cannot speak with us now. Thence away, Sir W. Penn and I and Mr. Lewes, who come hither after us, and Mr. Gawden in the last man’s coach. Set me down by the Poultry, and I to Sir Robert Viner’s, and there had my account stated and took it home to review. So home to the office, and there late writing out something, having been a little at Sir W. Batten’s to talk, and there vexed to see them give order for Hogg’s further abroad, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and by coach with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn to Whitehall, and there saw the Duke of Albemarle, who is not well, and do grow crazy. Thence I to St. James’s, to meet Sir G. Carteret, and did, and Lord Berkely, to get them (as we would have done the Duke of Albemarle) to the meeting of the Lords of Appeale in the business of one of our prizes. With them to the meeting of the Guinea Company, and there stayed, and went with Lord Berkely. While I was waiting for him in the Matted Gallery, a young man was most finely working in Indian inke the great picture of the King and Queen sitting3361 by Van Dyke; and did it very finely. Thence to Westminster Hall to hear our cause, but [it] did not come before them today, so went down and walked below in the Hall, and there met with Ned Pickering, who tells me the ill news of his nephew Gilbert, who is turned a very rogue, and then I took a turn with Mr. Evelyn, with whom I walked two hours, till almost one of the clock: talking of the badness of the Government, where nothing but wickedness, and wicked men and women command the King: that it is not in his nature to gainsay anything that relates to his pleasures; that much of it arises from the sickliness of our Ministers of State, who cannot be about him as the idle companions are, and therefore he gives way to the young rogues; and then, from the negligence of the Clergy, that a Bishop shall never be seen about him, as the King of France hath always: that the King would fain have some of the same gang to be Lord Treasurer, which would be yet worse, for now some delays are put to the getting gifts of the King, as that whore my Lady Byron,3362 who had been, as he called it, the King’s seventeenth whore abroad, did not leave him till she had got him to give her an order for £4,000 worth of plate to be made for her; but by delays, thanks be to God! she died before she had it. He tells me mighty stories of the King of France, how great a prince he is.3363 He hath made a code to shorten the law; he hath put out all the ancient commanders of castles that were become hereditary; he hath made all the fryers subject to the bishops, which before were only subject to Rome, and so were hardly the King’s subjects, and that none shall become religieux but at such an age, which he thinks will in a few, years ruin the Pope, and bring France into a patriarchate. He confirmed to me the business of the want of paper at the Council-table the other day, which I have observed; Wooly being to have found it, and did, being called, tell the King to his face the reason of it; and Mr. Evelyn tells me several of the menial servants of the Court lacking bread, that have not received a farthing wages since the King’s coming in. He tells me the King of France hath his mistresses, but laughs at the foolery of our King, that makes his bastards princes,3364 and loses his revenue upon them, and makes his mistresses his masters and the King of France did never grant Lavalliere3365 anything to bestow on others, and gives a little subsistence, but no more, to his bastards. He told me the whole story of Mrs. Stewart’s going away from Court, he knowing her well; and believes her, up to her leaving the Court, to be as virtuous as any woman in the world: and told me, from a Lord that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth, and a sober man, that when the Duke of Richmond did make love to her, she did ask the King, and he did the like also; and that the King did not deny it, and [she] told this Lord that she was come to that pass as to resolve to have married any gentleman of £1,500 a-year that would have had her in honour; for it was come to that pass, that she could not longer continue at Court without prostituting herself to the King,3366 whom she had so long kept off, though he had liberty more than any other had, or he ought to have, as to dalliance.3367 She told this Lord that she had reflected upon the occasion she had given the world to think her a bad woman, and that she had no way but to marry and leave the Court, rather in this way of discontent than otherwise, that the world might see that she sought not anything but her honour; and that she will never come to live at Court more than when she comes to town to come to kiss the Queen her Mistress’s hand: and hopes, though she hath little reason to hope, she can please her Lord so as to reclaim him, that they may yet live comfortably in the country on his estate. She told this Lord that all the jewels she ever had given her at Court, or any other presents, more than the King’s allowance of £700 per annum out of the Privypurse for her clothes, were, at her first coming the King did give her a necklace of pearl of about £1,100,3368 and afterwards, about seven months since, when the King had hopes to have obtained some courtesy of her, the King did give her some jewels, I have forgot what, and I think a pair of pendants. The Duke of York, being once her Valentine, did give her a jewel of about £800; and my Lord Mandeville, her Valentine this year, a ring of about £300; and the King of France would have had her mother,3369 who, he says, is one of the most cunning women in the world, to have let her stay in France, saying that he loved her not as a mistress, but as one that he could marry as well as any lady in France; and that, if she might stay, for the honour of his Court he would take care she should not repent. But her mother, by command of the Queen-mother, thought rather to bring her into England; and the King of France did give her a jewel: so that Mr. Evelyn believes she may be worth in jewels about £6,000, and that that is all that she hath in the world: and a worthy woman; and in this hath done as great an act of honour as ever was done by woman. That now the Countess Castlemayne do carry all before her: and among other arguments to prove Mrs. Stewart to have been honest to the last, he says that the King’s keeping in still with my Lady Castlemayne do show it; for he never was known to keep two mistresses in his life, and would never have kept to her had he prevailed anything with Mrs. Stewart. She is gone yesterday with her Lord to Cobham.3370 He did tell me of the ridiculous humour of our King and Knights of the Garter the other day, who, whereas heretofore their robes were only to be worn during their ceremonies and service, these, as proud of their coats, did wear them all day till night, and then rode into the Park with them on. Nay, and he tells me he did see my Lord Oxford and the Duke of Monmouth in a hackney-coach with two footmen in the Park, with their robes on; which is a most scandalous thing, so as all gravity may be said to be lost among us. By and by we discoursed of Sir Thomas Clifford,3371 whom I took for a very rich and learned man, and of the great family of that name. He tells me he is only a man of about seven-score pounds a-year, of little learning more than the law of a justice of peace, which he knows well: a parson’s son, got to be burgess in a little borough in the West, and here fell into the acquaintance of my Lord Arlington, whose creature he is, and never from him; a man of virtue, and comely, and good parts enough; and hath come into his place with a great grace, though with a great skip over the heads of a great many, as Chichly and Duncum, and some Lords that did expect it. By the way, he tells me, that of all the great men of England there is none that endeavours more to raise those that he takes into favour than my Lord Arlington; and that, on that score, he is much more to be made one’s patron than my Lord Chancellor, who never did, nor never will do, anything, but for money.3372 After having this long discourse we parted, about one of the clock, and so away by water home, calling upon Michell, whose wife and girl are pretty well, and I home to dinner, and after dinner with Sir W. Batten to Whitehall, there to attend the Duke of York before council, where we all met at his closet and did the little business we had, and here he did tell us how the King of France is intent upon his design against Flanders, and hath drawn up a remonstrance of the cause of the war, and appointed the 20th of the next month for his rendezvous, and himself to prepare for the campaign the 30th, so that this, we are in hopes, will keep him in employment. Turenne is to be his general. Here was Carcasse’s business unexpectedly moved by him, but what was done therein appears in my account of his case in writing by itself. Certain news of the Dutch being abroad on our coast with twenty-four great ships. This done Sir W. Batten and I back again to London, and in the way met my Lady Newcastle going with her coaches and footmen all in velvet: herself, whom I never saw before, as I have heard her often described, for all the town-talk is nowadays of her extravagancies, with her velvetcap, her hair about her ears; many black patches, because of pimples about her mouth; naked-necked, without anything about it, and a black just-au-corps.3373 She seemed to me a very comely woman: but I hope to see more of her on Maiday. My mind is mightily of late upon a coach. At home, to the office, where late spending all the evening upon entering in long hand our late passages with Carcasse for memory sake, and so home in great pain in my back by the uneasiness of Sir W. Batten’s coach driving hard this afternoon over the stones to prevent coming too late. So at night to supper in great pain, and to bed, where lay in great pain, not able to turn myself all night.
. Up with much pain, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, W. Hewer with us. This noon I got in some coals at 23s. per chaldron, a good hearing, I thank God—having not been put to buy a coal all this dear time, that during this war poor people have been forced to give 45s. and 50s., and £3. In the afternoon (my wife and people busy these late days, and will be for some time, making of shirts and smocks) to the office, where late, and then home, after letters, and so to supper and to bed, with much pleasure of mind, after having dispatched business. This afternoon I spent some time walking with Mr. Moore, in the garden, among other things discoursing of my Lord Sandwich’s family, which he tells me is in a very bad condition, for want of money and management, my Lord’s charging them with bills, and nobody, nor anything provided to answer them. He did discourse of his hopes of being supplied with £1,900 against a present bill from me, but I took no notice of it, nor will do it. It seems Mr. Sheply doubts his accounts are ill kept, and everything else in the family out of order, which I am grieved to hear of.
. Lay long, my pain in my back being still great, though not so great as it was. However, up and to church, where a lazy sermon, and then home and to dinner, my wife and I alone and Barker. After dinner, by water—the day being mighty pleasant, and the tide serving finely, I up (reading in Boyle’s book of colours),3374 as high as Barne Elmes, and there took one turn alone, and then back to Putney Church, where I saw the girls of the schools, few of which pretty; and there I come into a pew, and met with little James Pierce, which I was much pleased at, the little rogue being very glad to see me: his master, Reader to the Church. Here was a good sermon and much company, but I sleepy, and a little out of order, for my hat falling down through a hole underneath the pulpit, which, however, after sermon, by a stick, and the help of the clerke, I got up again, and then walked out of the church with the boy, and then left him, promising him to get him a play another time. And so by water, the tide being with me again, down to Deptford, and there I walked down the Yard, Shish3375 and Cox3376 with me, and discoursed about cleaning of the wet docke, and heard, which I had before, how, when the docke was made, a ship of near 500 tons was there found; a ship supposed of Queen Elizabeth’s time, and well wrought, with a great deal of stoneshot in her, of eighteen inches diameter, which was shot then in use: and afterwards meeting with Captain Perriman3377 and Mr. Castle at Halfway Tree, they tell me of stoneshot of thirty-six inches diameter, which they shot out of mortarpieces.3378 Thence walked to Halfway Tree, and there stopped and talk with Mr. Castle and Captain Perriman, and so to Redriffe and took boat again, and so home, and there to write down my Journal, and so to supper and to read, and so to bed, mightily pleased with my reading of Boyle’s book of colours today, only troubled that some part of it, indeed the greatest part, I am not able to understand for want of study. My wife this night troubled at my leaving her alone so much and keeping her within doors, which indeed I do not well nor wisely in.
. Up, being visited very early by Creed newly come from Hinchingbrooke, who went thither without my knowledge, and I believe only to save his being taxed by the Poll Bill. I did give him no very good countenance nor welcome, but took occasion to go forth and walked (he with me) to St. Dunstan’s, and thence I to Sir W. Coventry’s, where a good while with him, and I think he pretty kind, but that the nature of our present condition affords not matter for either of us to be pleased with anything. We discoursed of Carcasse, whose Lord, he tells me, do make complaints that his clerk should be singled out, and my Lord Berkeley do take his part. So he advises we would sum up all we have against him and lay it before the Duke of York; he condemned my Lord Brouncker. Thence to Sir G. Carteret, and there talked a little while about office business, and thence by coach home, in several places paying my debts in order to my evening my accounts this month, and thence by and by to Whitehall again to Sir G. Carteret to dinner, where very good company and discourse, and I think it my part to keep in there now more than ordinary because of the probability of my Lord’s coming soon home. Our Commissioners for the treaty set out this morning betimes down the river.3379 Here I hear that the Duke of Cambridge,3380 the Duke of York’s son, is very sick; and my Lord Treasurer very bad of the stone, and hath been so some days. After dinner Sir G. Carteret and I alone in his closet an hour or more talking of my Lord Sandwich’s coming home, which, the peace being likely to be made here, he expects, both for my Lord’s sake and his own (whose interest he wants) it will be best for him to be at home, where he will be well received by the King; he is sure of his service well accepted, though the business of Spain do fall by this peace. He tells me my Lord Arlington hath done like a gentleman by him in all things. He says, if my Lord [Sandwich] were here, he were the fittest man to be Lord Treasurer of any man in England; and he thinks it might be compassed; for he confesses that the King’s matters do suffer through the inability of this man, who is likely to die, and he will propound him to the King. It will remove him from his place at sea, and the King will have a good place to bestow. He says to me, that he could wish, when my Lord comes, that he would think fit to forbear playing, as a thing below him, and which will lessen him, as it do my Lord St. Albans, in the King’s esteem: and as a great secret tells me that he hath made a match for my Lord Hinchingbroke to a daughter3381 of my Lord Burlington’s, where there is a great alliance, £10,000 portion; a civil family, and relation to my Lord Chancellor, whose son hath married one of the daughters;3382 and that my Lord Chancellor do take it with very great kindness, so that he do hold himself obliged by it. My Lord Sandwich hath referred it to my Lord Crew, Sir G. Carteret, and Mr. Montagu, to end it. My Lord Hinchingbroke and the lady know nothing yet of it. It will, I think, be very happy. Very glad of this discourse, I away mightily pleased with the confidence I have in this family, and so away, took up my wife, who was at her mother’s, and so home, where I settled to my chamber about my accounts, both Tangier and private, and up at it till twelve at night, with good success, when news is brought me that there is a great fire in Southwarke: so we up to the leads, and then I and the boy down to the end of our lane, and there saw it, it seeming pretty great, but nothing to the fire of London, that it made me think little of it. We could at that distance see an engine play—that is, the water go out, it being moonlight. By and by, it begun to slacken, and then I home and to bed.
. Up, and Mr. Madden3383 come to speak with me, whom my people not knowing have made to wait long without doors, which vexed me. Then comes Sir John Winter to discourse with me about the forest of Deane, and then about my Lord Treasurer, and asking me whether, as he had heard, I had not been cut for the stone, I took him to my closet, and there showed it to him, of which he took the dimensions and had some discourse of it, and I believe will show my Lord Treasurer it. Thence to the office, where we sat all the morning, but little to do, and then to the ’Change, where for certain I hear, and the News book declares, a peace between France and Portugal. Met here with Mr. Pierce, and he tells me the Duke of Cambridge is very ill and full of spots about his body, that Dr. Frazier knows not what to think of it. Then home and to dinner, and then to the office, where all the afternoon; we met about Sir W. Warren’s business and accounts, wherein I do rather oppose than forward him, but not in declared terms, for I will not be at, enmity with him, but I will not have him find any friendship so good as mine. By and by rose and by water to Whitehall, and then called my wife at Unthanke’s. So home and to my chamber, to my accounts, and finished them to my heart’s wishes and admiration, they being grown very intricate, being let alone for two months, but I brought them together all naturally, within a few shillings, but to my sorrow the Poll money I paid this month and mourning have made me £80 a worse man than at my last balance, so that I am worth now but £6,700, which is yet an infinite mercy to me, for which God make me thankful. So late to supper, with a glad heart for the evening of my accounts so well, and so to bed.
May 1667
. Up, it being a fine day, and after doing a little business in my chamber I left my wife to go abroad with W. Hewer and his mother in a Hackney coach incognito to the Park, while I abroad to the Excise Office first, and there met the Cofferer and Sir Stephen Fox about our money matters there, wherein we agreed, and so to discourse of my Lord Treasurer, who is a little better than he was of the stone, having rested a little this night. I there did acquaint them of my knowledge of that disease, which I believe will be told my Lord Treasurer. Thence to Westminster; in the way meeting many milkmaids with their garlands upon their pails, dancing with a fiddler before them;3384 and saw pretty Nelly standing at her lodgings’ door in Drury-lane3385 in her smock sleeves and bodice, looking upon one: she seemed a mighty pretty creature. To the Hall and there walked a while, it being term. I thence home to the Rose, and then had Doll Lane venir para me. … To my Lord Crew’s, where I found them at dinner, and among others Mrs. Bocket, which I have not seen a long time, and two little dirty children, and she as idle a prating and impertinent woman as ever she was. After dinner my Lord took me alone and walked with me, giving me an account of the meeting of the Commissioners for Accounts, whereof he is one. How some of the gentlemen, Garraway,3386 Littleton, and others, did scruple at their first coming there, being called thither to act, as Members of Parliament, which they could not do by any authority but that of Parliament, and therefore desired the King’s direction in it, which was sent for by my Lord Bridgewater,3387 who brought answer, very short, that the King expected they should obey his Commission. Then they went on, and observed a power to be given them of administering and framing an oath, which they thought they could not do by any power but Act of Parliament; and the whole Commission did think fit to have the judges’ opinion in it; and so, drawing up their scruples in writing, they all attended the King, who told them he would send to the judges to be answered, and did so; who have, my Lord tells me, met three times about it, not knowing what answer to give to it; and they have met this week, doing nothing but expecting the solution of the judges in this point. My Lord tells me he do believe this Commission will do more hurt than good; it may undo some accounts, if these men shall think fit; but it can never clear an account, for he must come into the Exchequer for all this. Besides, it is a kind of inquisition that hath seldom ever been granted in England; and he believes it will never, besides, give any satisfaction to the People or Parliament, but be looked upon as a forced, packed business of the King, especially if these Parliament-men that are of it shall not concur with them: which he doubts they will not, and, therefore, wishes much that the King would lay hold of this fit occasion, and let the Commission fall. Then to talk of my Lord Sandwich, whom my Lord Crew hath a great desire might get to be Lord Treasurer if the present Lord should die,3388 as it is believed he will, in a little time; and thinks he can have no competitor but my Lord Arlington, who, it is given out, desires it: but my Lord thinks it is not so, for that the being Secretary do keep him a greater interest with the King than the other would do at least, do believe, that if my Lord would surrender him his Wardrobe place, it would be a temptation to Arlington to assist my Lord in getting the Treasurer’s. I did object to my Lord [Crew] that it would be no place of content, nor safety, nor honour for my Lord, the State being so indigent as it is, and the [King] so irregular, and those about him, that my Lord must be forced to part with anything to answer his warrants; and that, therefore, I do believe the King had rather have a man that may be one of his vicious caball, than a sober man that will mind the public, that so they may sit at cards and dispose of the revenue of the kingdom. This my Lord was moved at, and said he did not indeed know how to answer it, and bid me think of it; and so said he himself would also do. He do mightily cry out of the bad management of our monies, the King having had so much given him; and yet, when the Parliament do find that the King should have £900,000 in his purse by the best account of issues they have yet seen, yet we should report in the Navy a debt due from the King of £900,000; which, I did confess, I doubted was true in the first, and knew to be true in the last, and did believe that there was some great miscarriages in it: which he owned to believe also, saying, that at this rate it is not in the power of the kingdom to make a war, nor answer the King’s wants. Thence away to the King’s playhouse, by agreement met Sir W. Penn, and saw Love in a Maze:3389 but a sorry play: only Lacy’s clown’s part, which he did most admirably indeed; and I am glad to find the rogue at liberty again. Here was but little, and that ordinary, company. We sat at the upper bench next the boxes; and I find it do pretty well, and have the advantage of seeing and hearing the great people, which may be pleasant when there is good store. Now was only Prince Rupert and my Lord Lauderdale, and my Lord ⸻,3390 the naming of whom puts me in mind of my seeing, at Sir Robert Viner’s, two or three great silver flagons, made with inscriptions as gifts of the King to such and such persons of quality as did stay in town the late great plague, for the keeping things in order in the town,3391 which is a handsome thing. But here was neither Hart, Nell, nor Knipp; therefore, the play was not likely to please me. Thence Sir W. Penn and I in his coach, Tiburne way, into the Park, where a horrid dust, and number of coaches, without pleasure or order. That which we, and almost all went for, was to see my Lady Newcastle; which we could not, she being followed and crowded upon by coaches all the way she went, that nobody could come near her; only I could see she was in a large black coach, adorned with silver instead of gold, and so white curtains, and everything black and white, and herself in her cap, but other parts I could not make [out]. But that which I did see, and wonder at with reason, was to find Pegg Penn in a new coach, with only her husband’s pretty sister3392 with her, both patched and very fine, and in much the finest coach in the park, and I think that ever I did see one or other, for neatness and richness in gold, and everything that is noble. My Lady Castlemayne, the King, my Lord St. Albans, nor Mr. Jermyn, have so neat a coach, that ever I saw. And, Lord! to have them have this, and nothing else that is correspondent, is to me one of the most ridiculous sights that ever I did see, though her present dress was well enough; but to live in the condition they do at home, and be abroad in this coach, astonishes me. When we had spent half an hour in the Park, we went out again, weary of the dust, and despairing of seeing my Lady Newcastle; and so back the same way, and to St. James’s, thinking to have met my Lady Newcastle before she got home, but we staying by the way to drink, she got home a little before us: so we lost our labours, and then home; where we find the two young ladies come home, and their patches off, I suppose Sir W. Penn do not allow of them in his sight, and going out of town tonight, though late, to Walthamstow. So to talk a little at Sir W. Batten’s, and then home to supper, where I find Mrs. Hewer and her son, who have been abroad with my wife in the Park, and so after supper to read and then to bed. Sir W. Penn did give me an account this afternoon of his design of buying Sir Robert Brooke’s fine house at Wansted; which I so wondered at, and did give him reasons against it, which he allowed of: and told me that he did intend to pull down the house and build a less, and that he should get £1,500 by the old house, and I know not what fooleries. But I will never believe he ever intended to buy it, for my part;3393 though he troubled Mr. Gawden to go and look upon it, and advise him in it.
. To the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then abroad to my Lord Treasurer’s, who continues so ill as not to be troubled with business. So Mr. Gawden and I to my Lord Ashly’s and spoke with him, and then straight home, and there I did much business at the office, and then to my own chamber and did the like there, to my great content, but to the pain of my eyes, and then to supper and to bed, having a song with my wife with great pleasure, she doing it well.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, and [Sir] W. Penn in the last man’s coach to St. James’s, and thence up to the Duke of York’s chamber, which, as it is now fretted at the top, and the chimneypiece made handsome, is one of the noblest and best-proportioned rooms that ever, I think, I saw in my life, and when ready, into his closet and did our business, where, among other things, we had a proposition of Mr. Pierce’s, for being continued in pay, or something done for him, in reward of his pains as Chirurgeon-General; forasmuch as Troutbecke,3394 that was never a doctor before, hath got £200 a year settled on him for nothing but that one voyage with the Duke of Albemarle. The Duke of York and the whole company did show most particular kindness to Mr. Pierce, everybody moving for him, and the Duke himself most, that he is likely to be a very great man, I believe. Here also we had another mention of Carcasse’s business, and we directed to bring in a report of our opinion of his case, which vexes us that such a rogue shall make us so much trouble. Thence I presently to the Excise Office, and there met the Cofferer and [Sir] Stephen Fox by agreement, and agreed upon a method for our future payments, and then we three to my Lord Treasurer, who continues still very ill. I had taken my stone with me on purpose, and Sir Philip Warwicke carried it in to him to see, but was not in a condition to talk with me about it, poor man. So I with them to Westminster by coach; the Cofferer3395 telling us odd stories how he was dealt with by the men of the Church at Westminster in taking a lease of them at the King’s coming in,3396 and particularly the devilish covetousness of Dr. Busby.3397 Sir Stephen Fox, in discourse, told him how he is selling some land he hath, which yields him not above three percent, if so much, and turning it into money, which he can put out at ten percent; and, as times go, if they be like to continue, it is the best way for me to keep money going so, for aught I see. I to Westminster Hall, and there took a turn with my old acquaintance Mr. Pechell, whose red nose makes me ashamed to be seen with him, though otherwise a good-natured man. So away, I not finding of Mr. Moore, with whom I should have met and spoke about a letter I this day received from him from my Lord Hinchingbroke, wherein he desires me to help him to £1,900 to pay a bill of exchange of his father’s, which troubles me much, but I will find some way, if I can do it, but not to bring myself in bonds or disbursements for it, whatever comes of it. So home to dinner, where my wife hath ceux là upon her and is very ill with them, and so forced to go to bed, and I sat by her a good while, then down to my chamber and made an end of Rycaut’s History of the Turks, which is a very good book. Then to the office, and did some business, and then my wife being pretty well, by coach to little Michell’s, and there saw my poor Betty and her little child, which slept so soundly we could hardly wake it in an hour’s time without hurting it, and they tell me what I did not know, that a child (as this do) will hunt and hunt up and down with its mouth if you touch the cheek of it with your finger’s end for a nipple, and fit its mouth for sucking, but this hath not sucked yet, she having no nipples. Here sat a while, and then my wife and I, it being a most curious clear evening, after some rain today, took a most excellent tour by coach to Bow, and there drank and back again, and so a little at the office, and home to read a little, and to supper and bed mightily refreshed with this evening’s tour, but troubled that it hath hindered my doing some business which I would have done at the office. This day the news is come that the fleet of the Dutch, of about 20 ships, which come upon our coasts upon design to have intercepted our colliers, but by good luck failed, is gone to the Frith3398 and there lies, perhaps to trouble the Scotch privateers, which have galled them of late very much, it may be more than all our last year’s fleet.
. Up and to the office, where sat all the morning, among other things a great conflict I had with Sir W. Warren, he bringing a letter to the Board, flatly in words charging them with their delays in passing his accounts, which have been with them these two years, part of which I said was not true, and the other undecent. The whole Board was concerned to take notice of it, as well as myself, but none of them had the honour to do it, but suffered me to do it alone, only Sir W. Batten, who did what he did out of common spite to him. So I writ in the margin of the letter, “Returned as untrue,” and, by consent of the Board, did give it him again, and so parted. Home to dinner, and there came a woman whose husband I sent for, one Fisher, about the business of Perkins and Carcasse, and I do think by her I shall find the business as bad as ever it was, and that we shall find Commissioner Pett a rogue, using foul play on behalf of Carcasse. After dinner to the office again, and there late all the afternoon, doing much business, and with great content home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and going down to the water side, I met Sir John Robinson, and so with him by coach to Whitehall, still a vain, prating, boasting man as any I know, as if the whole City and Kingdom had all its work done by him. He tells me he hath now got a street ordered to be continued, forty feet broad, from Paul’s through Cannon Street to the Tower, which will be very fine. He and others this day, where I was in the afternoon, do tell me of at least six or eight fires within these few days; and continually stirs of fires, and real fires there have been, in one place or other, almost ever since the late great fire, as if there was a fate sent people for fire. I walked over the Park to Sir W. Coventry’s. Among other things to tell him what I hear of people being forced to sell their bills before September for 35 and 40 percent loss, and what is worst, that there are some courtiers that have made a knot to buy them, in hopes of some ways to get money of the King to pay them, which Sir W. Coventry is amazed at, and says we are a people made up for destruction, and will do what he can to prevent all this by getting the King to provide wherewith to pay them. We talked of Tangier, of which he is ashamed; also that it should put the King to this charge for no good in the world: and now a man going over that is a good soldier, but a debauched man, which the place need not to have. And so used these words: “That this place was to the King as my Lord Carnarvon3399 says of wood, that it is an excrescence of the earth provided by God for the payment of debts.” Thence away to Sir G. Carteret, whom I find taking physic. I stayed talking with him but a little, and so home to church, and heard a dull sermon, and most of the best women of our parish gone into the country, or at least not at church. So home, and find my boy not there, nor was at church, which vexed me, and when he come home I enquired, he tells me he went to see his mother. I send him back to her to send me some token that he was with her. So there come a man with him back of good fashion. He says he saw him with her, which pacified me, but I did soundly threaten him before him, and so to dinner, and then had a little scolding with my wife for not being fine enough to go to the christening today, which she excused by being ill, as she was indeed, and cried, but I was in an ill humour and ashamed, indeed, that she should not go dressed. However, friends by and by, and we went by water to Michell’s, and there his little house full of his father and mothers and the kindred, hardly any else, and mighty merry in this innocent company, and Betty mighty pretty in bed, but, her head aching, not very merry, but the company mighty merry, and I with them, and so the child was christened; my wife, his father, and her mother, the witnesses, and the child’s name Elizabeth. So we had gloves and wine and wafers, very pretty, and talked and tattled, and so we away by water and up with the tide, she and I and Barker, as high as Barne Elmes, it being a fine evening, and back again to pass the bridges at standing water between 9 and 10 at night, and then home and to supper, and then to bed with much pleasure. This day Sir W. Coventry tells me the Dutch fleet shot some shot, four or five hundred, into Burnt-Island in the Frith, but without any hurt; and so are gone.3400
. Up and angry with my maids for letting in watermen, and I know not who, anybody that they are acquainted with, into my kitchen to talk and prate with them, which I will not endure. Then out and by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, who continues still very ill, then to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s house, and there did a little business about my Tangier tallies, and so to Westminster Hall, and there to the Exchequer to consult about some way of getting our poor Creditors of the Navy (who served in their goods before the late Session of Parliament) paid out of the 11 months tax, which seems to relate only for goods to be then served in, and I think I have found out a way to bring them into the Act, which, if it do, I shall think a good service done. Thence by coach home with Captain Cocke, in our way talking of my Lord Brouncker and his Lady, who are mighty angry with us all of the office, about Carcasse’s business, but especially with me, and in great confidence he bids me have a care of him, for he hath said that he would wound me with the person where my greatest interest is. I suppose he means Sir W. Coventry, and therefore I will beware of him, and am glad, though vexed to hear it. So home to dinner, where Creed come, whom I vexed devilishly with telling him a wise man, and good friend of his and mine, did say that he lately went into the country to Hinchingbroke; and, at his coming to town again, hath shifted his lodgings, only to avoid paying to the Poll Bill, which is so true that he blushed, and could not in words deny it, but the fellow did think to have not had it discovered. He is so devilish a subtle false rogue, that I am really weary and afeard of his company, and therefore after dinner left him in the house, and to my office, where busy all the afternoon despatching much business, and in the evening to Sir R. Viner’s to adjust accounts there, and so home, where some of our old Navy creditors come to me by my direction to consider of what I have invented for their help as I have said in the morning, and like it mighty well, and so I to the office, where busy late, then home to supper and sing with my wife, who do begin to give me real pleasure with her singing, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and by coach to St. James’s; but there find Sir W. Coventry gone out betimes this morning, on horseback, with the King and Duke of York, to Putney-heath, to run some horses, and so back again to the office, where some witnesses from Chatham which I sent for are come up, and do give shrewd testimonies against Carcasse, which put my Lord into a new flame, and he and I to high words, and so broke up. Then home to dinner, where W. Hewer dined with us, and he and I after dinner to discourse of Carcasse’s business, wherein I apparently now do manage it wholly against my Lord Brouncker, Sir W. Penn, like a false rogue, shrinking out of the collar, Sir J. Minnes, afoot, being easily led either way, and Sir W. Batten, a malicious fellow that is not able to defend anything, so that the whole odium must fall on me, which I will therefore beware how I manage that I may not get enemies to no purpose. It vexes me to see with what a company I am mixed, but then it pleases me to see that I am reckoned the chief mover among them, as they do, confess and esteem me in everything. Thence to the office, and did business, and then by coach to St. James’s again, but [Sir] W. Coventry not within, so I wrote something to him, and then straight back again and to Sir W. Batten’s, and there talked with him and [Sir] J. Minnes, who are mighty hot in Carcasse’s business, but their judgment’s not to be trusted. However, I will go through with it, or otherwise we shall be all slaves to my Lord Brouncker and his man’s impudence. So to the office a little, and then home to supper and to bed, after hearing my wife sing, who is manifestly come to be more musical in her ear than ever I thought she could have been made, which rejoices me to the heart, for I take great delight now to hear her sing.
. Up pretty betimes and out of doors, and in Fen Church street met Mr. Lovett going with a picture to me, but I could not stand to discourse or see it, but on to the next hackney coach and so to Sir W. Coventry, where he and I alone a while discoursing of some businesses of the office, and then up to the Duke of York to his chamber with my fellow brethren who are come, and so did our usual weekly business, which was but little today, and I was glad that the business of Carcasse was not mentioned because our report was not ready, but I am resolved it shall against the next coming to the Duke of York. Here was discourse about a way of paying our old creditors which did please me, there being hopes of getting them comprehended within the 11 months Tax, and this did give occasion for Sir G. Carteret’s and my going to Sir Robert Long to discourse it, who do agree that now the King’s Council do say that they may be included in the Act, which do make me very glad, not so much for the sake of the poor men as for the King, for it would have been a ruin to him and his service not to have had a way to have paid the debt. There parted with Sir G. Carteret and into Westminster Hall, where I met with Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s to speak a little about our Tangier business, but to little purpose, my Lord Treasurer being so ill that no business can be done. Thence with Sir H. Cholmly to find out Creed from one lodging to another, which he hath changed so often that there is no finding him, but at last do come to his lodging that he is entering into this day, and do find his goods unlading at the door, by Scotland Yard, and there I set down Sir H. Cholmly, and I away to the ’Change, where spoke about several things, and then going home did meet Mr. Andrews our neighbour, and did speak with him to enquire about the ground behind our house, of which I have a mind to buy enough to make a stable and coach-house; for I do see that my condition do require it, as well as that it is more charge to my purse to live as I do than to keep one, and therefore I am resolved before winter to have one, unless some extraordinary thing happens to hinder me. He promises me to look after it for me, and so I home to dinner, where I find my wife’s flageolet master, and I am so pleased with her proceeding, though she hath lost time by not practising, that I am resolved for the encouragement of the man to learn myself a little for a month or so, for I do foresee if God send my wife and I to live, she will become very good company for me. He gone, comes Lovett with my little print of my dear Lady Castlemayne varnished, and the frame prettily done like gold, which pleases me well. He dined with me, but by his discourse I do still see that he is a man of good wit but most strange experience, and acquaintance with all manner of subtleties and tricks, that I do think him not fit for me to keep any acquaintance with him, lest he some time or other show me a slippery trick. After dinner, he gone, I to the office, where all the afternoon very busy, and so in the evening to Sir R. Viner’s, thinking to finish my accounts there, but am prevented, and so back again home, and late at my office at business, and so home to supper and sing a little with my dear wife, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and at noon home to dinner, and then with my wife and Barker by coach, and left them at Charing Cross, and I to St. James’s, and there found Sir W. Coventry alone in his chamber, and sat and talked with him more than I have done a great while of several things of the Navy, how our debts and wants do unfit us for doing anything. He tells me he hears stories of Commissioner Pett, of selling timber to the Navy under other names,3401 which I told him I believe is true, and did give him an instance. He told me also how his clerk Floyd3402 he hath put away for his common idleness and ill company, and particularly that yesterday he was found not able to come and attend him, by being run into the arme in a squabble, though he pretends it was done in the streets by strangers, at nine at night, by the Maypole in the Strand. Sir W. Coventry did write to me this morning to recommend him another, which I could find in my heart to do W. Hewer for his good; but do believe he will not part with me, nor have I any mind to let him go. I would my brother were fit for it, I would adventure him there. He insists upon an unmarried man, that can write well, and hath French enough to transcribe it only from a copy, and may write shorthand, if it may be. Thence with him to my Lord Chancellor at Clarendon House,3403 to a Committee for Tangier, where several things spoke of and proceeded on, and particularly sending Commissioners thither before the new Governor goes, which I think will signify as much good as anything else that hath been done about the place, which is none at all. I did again tell them the badness of their credit by the time their tallies took before they become payable, and their spending more than their fund. They seem well satisfied with what I said, and I am glad that I may be remembered that I do tell them the case plain; but it troubled me that I see them hot upon it, that the Governor shall not be paymaster, which will force me either to the providing one there to do it (which I will never undertake), or leave the employment, which I had rather do. Mightily pleased with the nobleness of this house, and the brave furniture and pictures, which indeed is very noble, and, being broke up, I with Sir G. Carteret in his coach into Hide Park, to discourse of things, and spent an hour in this manner with great pleasure, telling me all his concernments, and how he is gone through with the purchase for my Lady Jemimah and her husband; how the Treasury is like to come into the hands of a Committee; but that not that, nor anything else, will do our business, unless the King himself will mind his business, and how his servants do execute their parts; he do fear an utter ruin in the state, and that in a little time, if the King do not mind his business soon; that the King is very kind to him, and to my Lord Sandwich, and that he doubts not but at his coming home, which he expects about Michaelmas, he will be very well received. But it is pretty strange how he began again the business of the intention of a marriage of my Lord Hinchingbroke to a daughter of my Lord Burlington’s3404 to my Lord Chancellor, which he now tells me as a great secret, when he told it me the last Sunday but one; but it may be the poor man hath forgot, and I do believe he do make it a secret, he telling me that he has not told it to any but myself, and this day to his daughter my Lady Jemimah, who looks to lie down about two months hence. After all this discourse we turned back and to Whitehall, where we parted, and I took up my wife at Unthanke’s, and so home, and in our street, at the Three Tuns’ Tavern3405 door, I find a great hubbub; and what was it but two brothers have fallen out, and one killed the other. And who should they be but the two Fieldings; one whereof, Bazill, was page to my Lady Sandwich; and he hath killed the other,3406 himself being very drunk, and so is sent to Newgate. I to the office and did as much business as my eyes would let me, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to the office, where a meeting about the Victuallers’ accounts all the morning, and at noon all of us to Kent’s, at the Three Tuns’ Tavern, and there dined well at Mr. Gawden’s charge; and, there the constable of the parish did show us the picklocks and dice that were found in the dead man’s pocket, and but 18d. in money; and a table-book, wherein were entered the names of several places where he was to go; and among others Kent’s house, where he was to dine, and did dine yesterday: and after dinner went into the church, and there saw his corpse with the wound in his left breast; a sad spectacle, and a broad wound, which makes my hand now shake to write of it. His brother intending, it seems, to kill the coachman, who did not please him, this fellow stepped in, and took away his sword; who thereupon took out his knife, which was of the fashion, with a falchion blade, and a little cross at the hilt like a dagger; and with that stabbed him. So to the office again, very busy, and in the evening to Sir Robert Viner’s, and there took up all my notes and evened our balance to the 7th of this month, and saw it entered in their ledger, and took a receipt for the remainder of my money as the balance of an account then adjusted. Then to my Lord Treasurer’s, but missed Sir Ph. Warwicke, and so back again, and drove hard towards Clerkenwell,3407 thinking to have overtaken my Lady Newcastle, whom I saw before us in her coach, with 100 boys and girls running looking upon her but I could not: and so she got home before I could come up to her. But I will get a time to see her. So to the office and did more business, and then home and sang with pleasure with my wife, and to supper and so to bed.
. Up, and being called on by Mr. Commander, he and I out to the ground behind Sir W. Penn’s, where I am resolved to take a lease of some of it for a stable and coach [house], and so to keep a coach, unless some change come before I can do it, for I do see it is a greater charge to me now in hackneys, and I am a little dishonoured by going in them. We spoke with him that hath the letting it, and I do believe when I can tell how much it will be fit for me to have we shall go near to agree. So home, and there found my door open, which makes me very angry with Nell, and do think to put her away for it, though it do so go against me to part with a servant that it troubles me more than anything in the world. So to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Mr. Goodgroome and Creed, and I have great hopes that my wife will come to sing to my mind. After dinner my wife and Creed and I being entered a hackney coach to go to the other end of the town, we espied The. Turner coming in her coach to see us, which we were surprised at, and so ’light and took her and another young lady home, and there sat and talked with The., she being lately come out of the North after two or three years absence. She is come to put out her sister and brothers to school at Putney. After a little talk, I over Tower Hill with them to a lady’s they go to visit, and so away with my wife, whose being dressed this day in fair hair did make me so mad, that I spoke not one word to her in our going, though I was ready to burst with anger. So to Whitehall to the Committee of Tangier, where they were discoursing about laws for the civil government of the place, but so dull and so little to the purpose that I fell to slumber, when the fear of being seen by Sir W. Coventry did trouble me much afterwards, but I hope he did not. After that broke up. Creed and I into the Park, and walked, a most pleasant evening, and so took coach, and took up my wife, and in my way home discovered my trouble to my wife for her white locks,3408 swearing by God, several times, which I pray God forgive me for, and bending my fist, that I would not endure it. She, poor wretch,3409 was surprised with it, and made me no answer all the way home; but there we parted, and I to the office late, and then home, and without supper to bed, vexed.
. Up, and to my chamber, to settle some accounts there, and by and by down comes my wife to me in her nightgown, and we begun calmly, that upon having money to lace her gown for second mourning, she would promise to wear white locks no more in my sight, which I, like a severe fool, thinking not enough, begun to except against, and made her fly out to very high terms and cry, and in her heat told me of keeping company with Mrs. Knipp, saying, that if I would promise never to see her more—of whom she hath more reason to suspect than I had heretofore of Pembleton—she would never wear white locks more. This vexed me, but I restrained myself from saying anything, but do think never to see this woman—at least, to have her here more, but by and by I did give her money to buy lace, and she promised to wear no more white locks while I lived, and so all very good friends as ever, and I to my business, and she to dress herself. Against noon we had a coach ready for us, and she and I to Whitehall, where I went to see whether Sir G. Carteret was at dinner or no, our design being to make a visit there, and I found them set down, which troubled me, for I would not then go up, but back to the coach to my wife, and she and I homeward again, and in our way bethought ourselves of going alone, she and I, to go to a French house to dinner, and so enquired out Monsieur Robins, my periwig-maker, who keeps an ordinary, and in an ugly street in Covent Garden, did find him at the door, and so we in; and in a moment almost had the table covered, and clean glasses, and all in the French manner, and a mess of potage first, and then a couple of pigeons à la esterve, and then a piece of boeuf-a-la-mode, all exceeding well seasoned, and to our great liking; at least it would have been anywhere else but in this bad street, and in a periwig-maker’s house; but to see the pleasant and ready attendance that we had, and all things so desirous to please, and ingenious in the people, did take me mightily. Our dinner cost us 6s., and so my wife and I away to Islington, it being a fine day, and thence to Sir G. Whitmore’s house, where we ’light, and walked over the fields to Kingsland, and back again; a walk, I think, I have not taken these twenty years; but puts me in mind of my boy’s time, when I boarded at Kingsland, and used to shoot with my bow and arrows in these fields. A very pretty place it is; and little did any of my friends think I should come to walk in these fields in this condition and state that I am. Then took coach again, and home through Shoreditch; and at home my wife finds Barker to have been abroad, and telling her so many lies about it, that she struck her, and the wench said she would not stay with her: so I examined the wench, and found her in so many lies myself, that I was glad to be rid of her, and so resolved having her go away tomorrow. So my wife and W. Hewer and I to supper, and then he and I to my chamber to begin the draught of the report from this office to the Duke of York in the case of Mr. Carcasse, which I sat up till midnight to do, and then to bed, believing it necessary to have it done, and to do it plainly, for it is not to be endured the trouble that this rascal hath put us to, and the disgrace he hath brought upon this office.
. Up, and when ready, to the office (my wife rising to send away Barker, according to our resolution last night, and she did do it with more clothes than have cost us £10, and 20s. in her purse, which I did for the respect I bear Mr. Falconbridge, otherwise she had not deserved half of it, but I am the more willing to do it to be rid of one that made work and trouble in the house, and had not qualities of any honour or pleasure to me or my family, but what is a strange thing did always declare to her mistress and others that she had rather be put to drudgery and to wash the house than to live as she did like a gentlewoman), and there I and Gibson all the morning making an end of my report against Carcasse, which I think will do our business, but it is a horrid shame such a rogue should give me and all of us this trouble. This morning come Sir H. Cholmly to me for a tally or two; and tells me that he hears that we are by agreement to give the King of France Nova Scotia, which he do not like: but I do not know the importance of it.3410 Then abroad with my wife to my Lord Treasurer’s, and she to her tailor’s. I find Sir Philip Warwicke, who I perceive do give over my Lord Treasurer for a man of this world, his pain being grown great again upon him, and all the rest he hath is by narcotics, and now Sir Philip Warwicke do please himself, like a good man, to tell some of the good ejaculations of my Lord Treasurer concerning the little worth of this world, to buy it with so much pain, and other things fit for a dying man. So finding no business likely to be done here for Tangier, I having a warrant for tallies to be signed, I away to the New Exchange, and there stayed a little, and then to a looking-glass shop to consult about covering the wall in my closet over my chimney, which is darkish, with looking-glasses, and then to my wife’s tailor’s, but find her not ready to go home, but got to buy things, and so I away home to look after my business and finish my report of Carcasse, and then did get Sir W. Batten, Sir J. Minnes, and [Sir] W. Penn together, and read it over with all the many papers relating to the business, which they do wonder at, and the trouble I have taken about it, and like the report, so as that they do unanimously resolve to sign it, and stand by it, and after a great deal of discourse of the strange deportment of my Lord Brouncker in this business to withstand the whole board in behalf of such an impudent rogue as this is, I parted, and home to my wife, and supped and talked with her, and then to bed, resolving to rise betimes tomorrow to write fair the report.
. Up by 5 o’clock, and when ready down to my chamber, and there with Mr. Fist, Sir W. Batten’s clerk, who writes mighty well, writing over our report in Mr. Carcasse’s business, in which we continued till 9 o’clock, that the office met, and then to the office, where all the morning, and so at noon home to dinner, where Mr. Holliard come and eat with us, who among other things do give me good hopes that we shall give my father some ease as to his rupture when he comes to town, which I expect tomorrow. After dinner comes Fist, and he and I to our report again till 9 o’clock, and then by coach to my Lord Chancellor’s, where I met Mr. Povy, expecting the coming of the rest of the Commissioners for Tangier. Here I understand how the two Dukes, both the only sons of the Duke of York, are sick even to danger, and that on Sunday last they were both so ill, as that the poor Duchess was in doubt which would die first: the Duke of Cambridge of some general disease; the other little Duke,3411 whose title I know not, of the convulsion fits, of which he had four this morning. Fear that either of them might be dead, did make us think that it was the occasion that the Duke of York and others were not come to the meeting of the Commission which was designed, and my Lord Chancellor did expect. And it was pretty to observe how, when my Lord sent down to St. James’s to see why the Duke of York come not, and Mr. Povy, who went, returned, my Lord (Chancellor) did ask, not how the Princes or the Dukes do, as other people do, but “How do the children?” which methought was mighty great, and like a great man and grandfather. I find everybody mightily concerned for these children, as a matter wherein the State is much concerned that they should live. At last it was found that the meeting did fail from no known occasion, at which my Lord Chancellor was angry, and did cry out against Creed that he should give him no notice. So Povy and I went forth, and stayed at the gate of the house by the street, and there stopped to talk about the business of the Treasury of Tangier, which by the badness of our credit, and the resolution that the Governor shall not be paymaster, will force me to provide one there to be my paymaster, which I will never do, but rather lose my place, for I will not venture my fortune to a fellow to be employed so far off, and in that wicked place. Thence home, and with Fist presently to the finishing the writing fair of our report. And by and by to Sir W. Batten’s, and there he and I and [Sir] J. Minnes and [Sir] W. Penn did read and sign it with great good liking, and so away to the office again to look over and correct it, and then home to supper and to bed, my mind being pretty well settled, having this report done, and so to supper and to bed.
. [This morning my wife had some things brought home by a new woman of the New Exchange, one Mrs. Smith, which she would have me see for her fine hand, and indeed it is a fine hand, and the woman I have observed is a mighty pretty looked woman.]3412 Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] J. Minnes to St. James’s, and stopped at Temple Bar for Sir J. Minnes to go into the Devil’s Tavern to shit, he having drunk whey, and his belly wrought. Being come, we up to the Duke of York’s chamber, who, when ready, we to our usual business, and being very glad, we all that signed it, that is, Sir J. Minnes, W. Batten, W. Penn, and myself, and then Sir G. Carteret and [Sir] W. Coventry, Brouncker, and T. Harvy, and the officers of the Ordnance, Sir J. Duncombe, and Mr. Cholmely presented our report about Carcasse, and did afterwards read it with that success that the Duke of York was for punishing him, not only with turning him out of the office, but with what other punishment he could, which nobody did forward, and so he escaped, only with giving security to secure the King against double tickets of his and other things that he might have wronged the King or subject in before his dismission. Yet, Lord! to see how our silly Lord Brouncker would have stood to have justified this rogue, though to the reproach of all us who have signed, which I shall never forget to have been a most malicious or a most silly act, and I do think it is as much the latter as the other, for none but a fool could have done as this silly Lord hath done in this business. So the Duke of York did like our report, and ordered his being secured till he did give his security, which did fully content me, and will I hope vindicate the office. It happened that my Lord Arlington coming in by chance was at the hearing of all this, which I was not sorry for, for he did move or did second the Duke of York that this roguery of his might be put in the News-book that it might be made public to satisfy for the wrong the credit of this office hath received by this rogue’s occasion. So with utmost content I away with Sir G. Carteret to London, talking all the way; and he do tell me that the business of my Lord Hinchingbroke his marriage with my Lord Burlington’s daughter is concluded on by all friends; and that my Lady is now told of it, and do mightily please herself with it; which I am mighty glad of. So home, and there I find that my wife hath been at my desire at the Inne, thinking that my father might be come up with the coach, but he is not come this week, poor man, but will be here the next. At noon to dinner, and then to Sir W. Batten’s, where I hear the news how our Embassadors were but ill received at Flushing, nor at Bredah itself, there being only a house and no furniture provided for them, though it be said that they have as much as the French. Here we stayed talking a little, and then I to the office about my business, and thence to the office, where busy about my own papers of my office, and by and by comes the office full to examine Sir W. Warren’s account, which I do appear mighty fierce in against him, and indeed am, for his accounts are so perplexed that I am sure he cannot but expect to get many a £1,000 in it before it passes our hands, but I will not favour him, but save what I can to the King. At his accounts, wherein I very high against him, till late, and then we broke up with little done, and so broke up, and I to my office, where late doing of business, and then home to supper and to bed. News still that my Lord Treasurer is so ill as not to be any man of this world; and it is said that the Treasury shall be managed by Commission. I would to God Sir G. Carteret, or my Lord Sandwich, be in it! But the latter is the more fit for it. This day going to Whitehall, Sir W. Batten did tell me strange stories of Sir W. Penn, how he is already ashamed of the fine coach which his son-in-law and daughter have made, and indeed it is one of the most ridiculous things for people of their low, mean fashion to make such a coach that ever I saw. He tells me how his people come as they do to mine every day to borrow one thing or other, and that his Lady hath been forced to sell some coals (in the late dear time) only to enable her to pay money that she hath borrowed of Griffin to defray her family expense, which is a strange story for a rogue that spends so much money on clothes and other occasions himself as he do, but that which is most strange, he tells me that Sir W. Penn do not give £6,000, as is usually [supposed], with his daughter to him, and that Mr. Lowder is come to use the tubb, that is to bathe and sweat himself, and that his lady is come to use the tubb too, which he takes to be that he hath, and hath given her the pox, but I hope it is not so, but, says Sir W. Batten, this is a fair jointure, that he hath made her, meaning by that the costs the having of a bath.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and, among other things, comes in Mr. Carcasse, and after many arguings against it, did offer security as was desired, but who should this be but Mr. Powell, that is one other of my Lord Brouncker’s clerks; and I hope good use will be made of it. But then he began to fall foul upon the injustice of the Board, which when I heard I threatened him with being laid by the heels, which my Lord Brouncker took up as a thing that I could not do upon the occasion he had given, but yet did own that it was ill said of him. I made not many words of it, but have let him see that I can say what I will without fear of him, and so we broke off, leaving the bond to be drawn by me, which I will do in the best manner I can. At noon, this being Holy Thursday, that is, Ascension Day, when the boys go on procession round the parish, we were to go to the Three Tuns’ Tavern, to dine with the rest of the parish; where all the parish almost was, Sir Andrew Rickard and others; and of our house, J. Minnes, W. Batten, W. Penn, and myself; and Mr. Mills did sit uppermost at the table. Here we were informed that the report of our Embassadors being ill received in their way to Bredah is not true, but that they are received with very great civility, which I am glad to hear. But that that did vex me was that among all us there should come in Mr. Carcasse to be a guest for his money (5s. a piece) as well as any of us. This did vex me, and I would have gone, and did go to my house, thinking to dine at home, but I was called away from them, and so we sat down, and to dinner. Among other things Sir John Fredericke3413 and Sir R. Ford did talk of Paul’s School, which, they tell me, must be taken away; and then I fear it will be long before another place, as they say is promised, is found; but they do say that the honour of their company3414 is concerned in the doing of it, and that it is a thing that they are obliged to do. Thence home, and to my office, where busy; anon at 7 at night I and my wife and Sir W. Penn in his coach to Unthanke’s, my wife’s tailor, for her to speak one word, and then we to my Lord Treasurer’s, where I find the porter crying, and suspected it was that my Lord is dead; and, poor Lord! we did find that he was dead just now; and the crying of the fellow did so trouble me, that considering I was not likely to trouble him any more, nor have occasion to give any more anything, I did give him 3s.; but it may be, poor man, he hath lost a considerable hope by the death of his Lord, whose house will be no more frequented as before, and perhaps I may never come thither again about any business. There is a good man gone: and I pray God that the Treasury may not be worse managed by the hand or hands it shall now be put into; though, for certain, the slowness, though he was of great integrity, of this man, and remissness, have gone as far to undo the nation, as anything else that hath happened; and yet, if I knew all the difficulties that he hath lain under, and his instrument Sir Philip Warwicke, I might be brought to another mind. Thence we to Islington, to the Old House, and there eat and drank, and then it being late and a pleasant evening, we home, and there to my chamber, and to bed. It is remarkable that this afternoon Mr. Moore come to me, and there, among other things, did tell me how Mr. Moyer,3415 the merchant, having procured an order from the King and Duke of York and Council, with the consent of my Lord Chancellor, and by assistance of Lord Arlington, for the releasing out of prison his brother, Samuel Moyer, who was a great man in the late times in Haberdashers’-hall, and was engaged under hand and seal to give the man that obtained it so much in behalf of my Lord Chancellor; but it seems my Lady Duchess of Albemarle had before undertaken it for so much money, but hath not done it. The Duke of Albemarle did the next day send for this Moyer, to tell him, that notwithstanding this order of the King and Council’s being passed for release of his brother, yet, if he did not consider the pains of some friends of his, he would stop that order. This Moyer being an honest, bold man, told him that he was engaged to the hand that had done the thing to give him a reward; and more he would not give, nor could own any kindness done by his Grace’s interest; and so parted. The next day Sir Edward Savage did take the said Moyer in tax about it, giving ill words of this Moyer and his brother; which he not being able to bear, told him he would give to the person that had engaged him what he promised, and not anything to anybody else; and that both he and his brother were as honest men as himself, or any man else; and so sent him going, and bid him do his worst. It is one of the most extraordinary cases that ever I saw or understood; but it is true. This day Mr. Sheply is come to town and to see me, and he tells me my father is very well only for his pain, so that he is not able to stir; but is in great pain. I would to God that he were in town that I might have what help can be got for him, for it troubles me to have him live in that condition of misery if I can help it.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning upon some accounts of Mr. Gawden’s, and at noon to the Three Tuns to dinner with Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, W. Batten, W. Penn, and T. Harvy, where very merry, and my Lord Brouncker in appearance as good friends as ever, though I know he has a hatred to me in heart. After dinner to my house, where Mr. Sheply dined, and we drank and talked together. He, poor man, hath had his arm broke the late frost, slipping in going over Huntingdon Bridge. He tells me that Jasper Trice and Lewes Phillips and Mr. Ashfield are gone from Brampton, and he thinks chiefly from the height of Sir J. Bernard’s carriage, who carries all things before him there, which they cannot bear with, and so leave the town, and this is a great instance of the advantage a man of the law hath over all other people, which would make a man to study it a little. Sheply being gone, there come the flageolet master, who having had a bad bargain of teaching my wife by the year, she not practising so much as she should do, I did think that the man did deserve some more consideration, and so will give him an opportunity of 20s. a month more, and he shall teach me, and this afternoon I begun, and I think it will be a few shillings well spent. Then to Sir R. Viner’s with 600 pieces of gold to turn into silver, for the enabling me to answer Sir G. Carteret’s £3,000; which he now draws all out of my hand towards the paying for a purchase he hath made for his son and my Lady Jemimah, in Northamptonshire,3416 of Sir Samuel Luke,3417 in a good place; a good house, and near all her friends; which is a very happy thing. Thence to St. James’s, and there spoke with Sir W. Coventry, and give him some account of some things, but had little discourse with him, there being company with him, and so directly home again and then to my office, doing some business, and so to my house, and with my wife to practice on the flageolet a little, and with great pleasure I see she can readily hit her notes, but only want of practice makes her she cannot go through a whole tune readily. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and then to dinner, and after dinner to the office to dictate some letters, and then with my wife to Sir W. Turner’s to visit The., but she being abroad we back again home, and then I to the office, finished my letters, and then to walk an hour in the garden talking with my wife, whose growth in music do begin to please me mightily, and by and by home and there find our Luce drunk, and when her mistress told her of it would be gone, and so put up some of her things and did go away of her accord, nobody pressing her to it, and the truth is, though she be the dirtiest, homeliest servant that ever I kept, yet I was sorry to have her go, partly through my love to my servants, and partly because she was a very drudging, working wench, only she would be drunk. But that which did a little trouble me was that I did hear her tell her mistress that she would tell her master something before she was aware of her that she would be sorry to have him know; but did it in such a silly, drunken manner, that though it trouble me a little, yet not knowing what to suspect she should know, and not knowing well whether she said it to her mistress or Jane, I did not much think of it. So she gone, we to supper and to bed, my study being made finely clean.
. Up, and to my chamber to set some papers in order, and then, to church, where my old acquaintance, that dull fellow, Meriton, made a good sermon, and hath a strange knack of a grave, serious delivery, which is very agreeable. After church to Whitehall, and there find Sir G. Carteret just set down to dinner, and I dined with them, as I intended, and good company, the best people and family in the world I think. Here was great talk of the good end that my Lord Treasurer made; closing his own eyes and setting his mouth, and bidding adieu with the greatest content and freedom in the world; and is said to die with the cleanest hands that ever any Lord Treasurer did. After dinner Sir G. Carteret and I alone, and there, among other discourse, he did declare that he would be content to part with his place of Treasurer of the Navy upon good terms. I did propose my Lord Belasses as a man likely to buy it, which he listened to, and I did fully concur and promote his design of parting with it, for though I would have my father live, I would not have him die Treasurer of the Navy, because of the accounts which must be uncleared at his death, besides many other circumstances making it advisable for him to let it go. He tells me that he fears all will come to naught in the nation soon if the King do not mind his business, which he do not seem likely to do. He says that the Treasury will be managed for a while by a Commission, whereof he thinks my Lord Chancellor for the honour of it, and my Lord Ashly, and the two Secretaries will be, and some others he knows not. I took leave of him, and directly by water home, and there to read the life of Mr. Hooker, which pleases me as much as anything I have read a great while, and by and by comes Mr. Howe to see us, and after him a little Mr. Sheply, and so we all to talk, and, Mercer being there, we some of us to sing, and so to supper, a great deal of silly talk. Among other things, W. Howe told us how the Barristers and Students of Gray’s Inne rose in rebellion against the Benchers the other day, who outlawed them, and a great deal of do; but now they are at peace again. They being gone, I to my book again, and made an end of Mr. Hooker’s Life,3418 and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and comes my flageolet master to set me a new tune, which I played presently, and shall in a month do as much as I desire at it. He being gone, I to several businesses in my chamber, and then by coach to the Commissioners of Excise, and so to Westminster Hall, and there spoke with several persons I had to do with. Here among other news, I hear that the Commissioners for the Treasury were named by the King yesterday; but who they are nobody could tell: but the persons are the Lord Chancellor, the two Secretaries, Lord Ashly, and others say Sir W. Coventry and Sir John Duncomb, but all conclude the Duke of Albemarle; but reports do differ, but will be known in a day or two. Having done my business, I then homeward, and overtook Mr. Commander; so took him into a coach with me, and he and I into Lincoln’s Inne Fields, there to look upon the coach-houses to see what ground is necessary for coach-house and horses, because of that that I am going about to do, and having satisfied myself in this he and I to Mr. Hide’s to look upon the ground again behind our house, and concluded upon his going along with us tomorrow to see some stables, he thinking that we demand more than is necessary. So away home, and then, I, it being a broken day, and had power by my vows, did walk abroad, first through the Minories, the first time I have been over the Hill to the postern-gate, and seen the place, since the houses were pulled down about that side of the Tower, since the fire, to find where my young mercer with my pretty little woman to his wife lives, who lived in Lombard Street, and I did espy them, but took no notice now of them, but may do hereafter. Thence down to the Old Swan, and there saw Betty Michell, whom I have not seen since her christening. But, Lord! how pretty she is, and looks as well as ever I saw her, and her child (which I am fain to seem very fond of) is pretty also, I think, and will be. Thence by water to Westminster Hall, and there walked a while talking at random with Sir W. Doyly, and so away to Mrs. Martin’s lodging, who was gone before, expecting me, and there je hazer what jevellem cum her and drank, and so by coach home (but I have forgot that I did in the morning go to the Swan, and there tumbling of la little fille, son uncle did trouver her cum su neckcloth off, which I was ashamed of, but made no great matter of it, but let it pass with a laugh), and there spent the evening with my wife at our flagelets, and so to supper, and after a little reading to bed. My wife still troubled with her cold. I find it everywhere now to be a thing doubted whether we shall have peace or no, and the captain of one of our ships that went with the Embassadors do say, that the seamen of Holland to his hearing did defy us, and called us English dogs, and cried out against peace, and that the great people there do oppose peace, though he says the common people do wish it.
. Up and to the office, where sat all the morning. At noon dined at home with my wife and find a new girl, a good big girl come to us, got by Payne to be our girl; and his daughter Nell we make our cook. This wench’s name is Mary, and seems a good likely maid. After dinner I with Mr. Commander and Mr. Hide’s brother to Lincolne’s Inne Fields, and there viewed several coach-houses, and satisfied ourselves now fully in it, and then there parted, leaving the rest to future discourse between us. Thence I home; but, Lord! how it went against my heart to go away from the very door of the Duke’s playhouse, and my Lady Castlemayne’s coach, and many great coaches there, to see The Siege of Rhodes. I was very near making a forfeit, but I did command myself, and so home to my office, and there did much business to my good content, much better than going to a play, and then home to my wife, who is not well with her cold, and sat and read a piece of Grand Cyrus in English by her, and then to my chamber and to supper, and so to bed. This morning the Captain come from Holland did tell us at the board what I have said he reported yesterday. This evening after I come from the office Mrs. Turner come to see my wife and me, and sit and talk with us, and so, my wife not being well and going to bed, Mrs. Turner and I sat up till 12 at night talking alone in my chamber, and most of our discourse was of our neighbours. As to my Lord Brouncker, she says how Mrs. Griffin, our housekeeper’s wife, hath it from his maid, that comes to her house often, that they are very poor; that the other day Mrs. Williams was fain to send a jewel to pawn; that their maid hath said herself that she hath got £50 since she come thither, and £17 by the payment of one bill; that they have a most lewd and nasty family here in the office, but Mrs. Turner do tell me that my Lord hath put the King to infinite charge since his coming thither in alterations, and particularly that Mr. Harper at Deptford did himself tell her that my Lord hath had of Foly, the ironmonger, £50 worth in locks and keys for his house, and that it is from the fineness of them, having some of £4 and £5 a lock, such as is in the Duke’s closet; that he hath several of these; that he do keep many of her things from her of her own goods, and would have her bring a bill into the office for them; that Mrs. Griffin do say that he do not keep Mrs. Williams now for love, but need, he having another whore that he keeps in Covent Garden; that they do owe money everywhere almost for everything, even Mrs. Shipman for her butter and cheese about £3, and after many demands cannot get it. Mrs. Turner says she do believe their coming here is only out of a belief of getting purchase by it, and that their servants (which was wittily said of her touching his clerks) do act only as privateers, no purchase, no pay. And in my conscience she is in the right. Then we fell to talk of Sir W. Penn, and his family and rise. She [Mrs. Turner] says that he was a pitiful [fellow] when she first knew them; that his lady was one of the sourest, dirty women, that ever she saw; that they took two chambers, one over another, for themselves and child, in Tower Hill; that for many years together they eat more meals at her house than at their own; did call brothers and sisters the husbands and wives; that her husband was godfather to one, and she godmother to another (this Margaret) of their children, by the same token that she was fain to write with her own hand a letter to Captain Twiddy, to stand for a godfather for her; that she brought my Lady, who then was a dirty slattern, with her stockings hanging about her heels, so that afterwards the people of the whole Hill did say that Mrs. Turner had made Mrs. Penn a gentlewoman, first to the knowledge of my Lady Vane,3419 Sir Henry’s lady, and him to the knowledge of most of the great people that then he sought to, and that in short his rise hath been his giving of large bribes, wherein, and she agrees with my opinion and knowledge before therein, he is very profuse. This made him General; this got him out of the Tower when he was in; and hath brought him into what he is now, since the King’s coming in: that long ago, indeed, he would drink the King’s health privately with Mr. Turner; but that when he saw it fit to turn Roundhead, and was offered by Mr. Turner to drink the King’s health, he answered “No;” he was changed, and now, he that would make him drink the King’s health, or any health but the Protector’s and the State’s, or to that purpose, he would be the first man should sheath his sword in his guts. That at the King’s coming in, he did send for her husband, and told him what a great man Sir W. Coventry was like to be, and that he having all the records in his hands of the Navy, if he would transcribe what was of most present use of the practice of the Navy, and give them him to give Sir W. Coventry from him, it would undoubtedly do his business of getting him a principal officer’s place; that her husband was at £5 charge to get these presently writ; that Sir W. Penn did give them Sir W. Coventry as from himself, which did set him up with W. Coventry, and made him what he is, and never owned anything of Mr. Turner in them; by which he left him in the lurch, though he did promise the Duke of Albemarle to do all that was possible, and made no question of Mr. Turner’s being what he desired; and when afterwards, too, did propose to him the getting of the Purveyor’s place for him, he did tell Mr. Turner it was necessary to present Sir W. Coventry 100 pieces, which he did, and W. Coventry took 80 of them: so that he was W. Coventry’s mere broker, as Sir W. Batten and my Lady did once tell my Lady Duchess of Albemarle, in the case of Mr. Falconer, whom W. Penn made to give W. Coventry £200 for his place of Clerk of the Rope Yard of Woolwich, and to settle £80 a year upon his daughter Pegg, after the death of his wife, and a gold watch presently to his wife. Mrs. Turner do tell me that my Lady and Pegg have themselves owned to her that Sir W. Coventry and Sir W. Penn had private marks to write to one another by, that when they in appearance writ a fair letter in behalf of anybody, that they had a little mark to show they meant it only in show: this, these silly people did confess themselves of him. She says that their son, Mr. William Penn, did tell her that his father did observe the commanders did make their addresses to me and applications, but they should know that his father should be the chief of the office, and that she hath observed that Sir W. Penn never had a kindness to her son, since W. Penn told her son that he had applied himself to me. That his rise hath been by her and her husband’s means, and that it is a most inconceivable thing how this man can have the face to use her and her family with the neglect that he do them. That he was in the late war a most devilish plunderer, and that got him his estate, which he hath in Ireland, and nothing else, and that he hath always been a very liberal man in his bribes, that upon his coming into this part of the Controller’s business wherein he is, he did send for T. Willson and told him how against his knowledge he was put in, and had so little wit as to say to him, “This will make the pot boyle, will it not, Mr. Willson? will it not make the pot boyle?” and do offer him to come in and do his business for him, and he would reward him. This Mr. Willson did come and tell her presently, he having been their servant, and to this day is very faithful to them. That her husband’s not being forward to make him a bill for Rear-Admiral’s pay and General’s pay both at the same time after he was first made General did first give him occasion of keeping a distance from him, since which they have never been great friends, Penn having by degrees been continually growing higher and higher, till now that he do wholly slight them and use them only as servants. Upon the whole, she told me stories enough to confirm me that he is the most false fellow that ever was born of woman, and that so she thinks and knows him to be.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall to Sir G. Carteret, who tells me now for certain how the Commission for the Treasury is disposed of: viz., to Duke of Albemarle, Lord Ashly, Sir W. Coventry, Sir John Duncomb,3420 and Sir Thomas Clifford: at which, he says, all the whole Court is disturbed; it having been once concluded otherwise into the other hands formerly mentioned in yesterday’s notes, but all of a sudden the King’s choice was changed, and these are to be the men; the first of which is only for a puppet to give honour to the rest. He do presage that these men will make it their business to find faults in the management of the late Lord Treasurer, and in discouraging the bankers: but I am, whatever I in compliance do say to him, of another mind, and my heart is very glad of it, for I do expect they will do much good, and that it is the happiest thing that hath appeared to me for the good of the nation since the King come in. Thence to St. James’s, and up to the Duke of York; and there in his chamber Sir W. Coventry did of himself take notice of this business of the Treasury, wherein he is in the Commission, and desired that I would be thinking of anything fit for him to be acquainted with for the lessening of charge and bettering of our credit, and what our expense hath been since the King’s coming home, which he believes will be one of the first things they shall enquire into: which I promised him, and from time to time, which he desires, will give him an account of what I can think of worthy his knowledge. I am mighty glad of this opportunity of professing my joy to him in what choice the King hath made, and the hopes I have that it will save the kingdom from perishing and how it do encourage me to take pains again, after my having through despair neglected it! which he told me of himself that it was so with him, that he had given himself up to more ease than ever he expected, and that his opinion of matters was so bad, that there was no public employment in the kingdom should have been accepted by him but this which the King hath now given him; and therein he is glad, in hopes of the service he may do therein; and in my conscience he will. So into the Duke of York’s closet; and there, among other things, Sir W. Coventry did take notice of what he told me the other day, about a report of Commissioner Pett’s dealing for timber in the Navy, and selling it to us in other names; and, besides his own proof, did produce a paper I had given him this morning about it, in the case of Widow Murford and Morecocke,3421 which was so handled, that the Duke of York grew very angry, and commanded us presently to fall into the examination of it, saying that he would not trust a man for his sake that lifts up the whites of his eyes. And it was declared that if he be found to have done so, he should be reckoned unfit to serve the Navy; and I do believe he will be turned out; and it was, methought, a worthy saying of Sir W. Coventry to the Duke of York, “Sir,” says he, “I do not make this complaint out of any disrespect to Commissioner Pett, but because I do love to do these things fairly and openly.” Thence I to Westminster Hall with Sir G. Carteret to the Chequer Chamber to hear our cause of the Lindeboome prize there before the Lords of Appeal, where was Lord Ashly, Arlington, Barkely, and Sir G. Carteret, but the latter three signified nothing, the former only either minding or understanding what was said. Here was good pleading of Sir Walter Walker’s and worth hearing, but little done in our business. Thence by coach to the Red Lion, thinking to meet my father, but I come too soon, but my wife is gone out of town to meet him. I am in great pain, poor man, for him, lest he should come up in pain to town. So I stayed not, but to the ’Change, and there stayed a little, where most of the news is that the Swedes are likely to fall out with the Dutch, which we wish, but how true I know not. Here I met my uncle Wight, the second day he hath been abroad, having been sick these two months even to death, but having never sent to me even in the greatest of his danger. I do think my Aunt had no mind I should come, and so I never went to see him, but neither he took notice of it to me, nor I made any excuse for it to him, but past two or three How do you’s, and so parted and so home, and by and by comes my poor father, much better than I expected, being at ease by fits, according as his truss sits, and at another time in as much pain. I am mighty glad to see him come well to town. So to dinner, where Creed comes. After dinner my wife and father abroad, and Creed and I also by water, and parted at the Temple stairs, where I landed, and to the King’s house, where I did give 18d., and saw the two last acts of The Goblins,3422 a play I could not make anything of by these two acts, but here Knipp spied me out of the tiring-room, and come to the pit door, and I out to her, and kissed her, she only coming to see me, being in a country-dress, she, and others having, it seemed, had a country-dance in the play, but she no other part: so we parted, and I into the pit again till it was done. The house full, but I had no mind to be seen, but thence to my cutler’s, and two or three other places on small, errands, and so home, where my father and wife come home, and pretty well my father, who to supper and betimes to bed at his country hours. I to Sir W. Batten’s, and there got some more part of my dividend of the prize-money. So home and to set down in writing the state of the account, and then to supper, and my wife to her flageolet, wherein she did make out a tune so prettily of herself, that I was infinitely pleased beyond whatever I expected from her, and so to bed. This day coming from Westminster with W. Batten, we saw at Whitehall Stairs a fisher-boat, with a sturgeon that he had newly catched in the River; which I saw, but it was but a little one; but big enough to prevent my mistake of that for a colt, if ever I become Mayor of Huntingdon.3423
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home, and with my father dined, and, poor man! he hath put off his travelling-clothes today, and is mighty spruce, and I love to see him cheerful. After dinner I to my chamber, and my wife and I to talk, and by and by they tell Mrs. Daniel would speak with me, so I down to the parlour to her, and sat down together and talked about getting her husband a place. … I do promise, and mean to do what kindness I can to her husband. After having been there hasti je was ashamed de peur that my people pensaitτὸ πρἄγμαde it, or lest they might espy us through some trees, we parted and I to the office, and presently back home again, and there was asked by my wife, I know not whether simply or with design, how I come to look as I did, carego was in much chaleur et de body and of animi, which I put off with the heat of the season, and so to other business, but I had some fear hung upon me lest alcuno had sididecouvert. So to the office, and then to Sir R. Viner’s about some part of my accounts now going on with him, and then home and ended my letters, and then to supper and my chamber to settle many things there, and then to bed. This noon I was on the ’Change, where I to my astonishment hear, and it is in the Gazette, that Sir John Duncomb is sworn yesterday a Privy-councillor. This day I hear also that last night the Duke of Kendall, second son of the Duke of York, did die; and that the other, Duke of Cambridge, continues very ill still. This afternoon I had opportunity para jouer with Mrs. Penn, tokendo her mamelles and baisando elle, being sola in the casa of her pater, and she fort willing.
. Up, and to the office, where, by and by, by appointment, we met upon Sir W. Warren’s accounts, wherein I do appear in everything as much as I can his enemy, though not so far but upon good conditions from him I may return to be his friend, but I do think it necessary to do what I do at present. We broke off at noon without doing much, and then home, where my wife not well, but yet engaged by invitation to go with Sir W. Penn. I got her to go with him by coach to Islington to the old house, where his lady and Madam Lowther,3424 with her exceeding fine coach and mean horses, and her mother-in-law, did meet us, and two of Mr. Lowther’s brothers,3425 and here dined upon nothing but pigeon-pies, which was such a thing for him to invite all the company to, that I was ashamed of it. But after dinner was all our sport, when there come in a juggler, who, indeed, did show us so good tricks as I have never seen in my life, I think, of legerdemaine, and such as my wife hath since seriously said that she would not believe but that he did them by the help of the devil. Here, after a bad dinner, and but ordinary company, saving that I discern good parts in one of the sons, who, methought, did take me up very prettily in one or two things that I said, and I was so sensible of it as to be a caution to me hereafter how I do venture to speak more than is necessary in any company, though, as I did now, I do think them incapable to censure me. We broke up, they back to Walthamstow, and only my wife and I and Sir W. Penn to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Maiden Queen,3426 which, though I have often seen, yet pleases me infinitely, it being impossible, I think, ever to have the Queen’s part, which is very good and passionate, and Florimel’s part, which is the most comicall that ever was made for woman, ever done better than they two are by young Marshall and Nelly. Home, where I spent the evening with my father and wife, and late at night some flageolet with my wife, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home, and there come Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and dined with me, telling me that the Duke of Cambridge continues very ill, so as they do despair of his living. So to the office again, where all the afternoon. About 4 o’clock comes Mrs. Pierce to see my wife, and I into them, and there find Pierce very fine, and in her own hair, which do become her, and so says my wife, ten times better than lighter hair, her complexion being mighty good. With them talked a little, and was invited by her to come with my wife on Wednesday next in the evening, to be merry there, which we shall do. Then to the office again, where dispatched a great deal of business till late at night, to my great content, and then home and with my wife to our flageolets a little, and so to supper and to bed, after having my chamber a little wiped up.
. Up sooner than usual on Sundays, and to walk, it being exceeding hot all night (so as this night I begun to leave off my waistcoat this year) and this morning, and so to walk in the garden till toward church time, when my wife and I to church, where several strangers of good condition come to our pew, where the pew was full. At noon dined at home, where little Michell come and his wife, who continues mighty pretty. After dinner I by water alone to Westminster, where, not finding Mrs. Martin within, did go towards the parish church,3427 and in the way did overtake her, who resolved to go into the church with her that she was going with (Mrs. Hargrave, the little crooked woman, the vintner’s wife of the Dog) and then go out again, and so I to the church, and seeing her return did go out again myself, but met with Mr. Howlett, who, offering me a pew in the gallery, I had no excuse but up with him I must go, and then much against my will stayed out the whole church in pain while she expected me at home, but I did entertain myself with my perspective glass up and down the church, by which I had the great pleasure of seeing and gazing at a great many very fine women; and what with that, and sleeping, I passed away the time till sermon was done, and then to Mrs. Martin, and there stayed with her an hour or two, and there did what I would with her, and after been here so long I away to my boat, and up with it as far as Barne Elmes, reading of Mr. Evelyn’s late new book against Solitude,3428 in which I do not find much excess of good matter, though it be pretty for a bye discourse. I walked the length of the Elmes, and with great pleasure saw some gallant ladies and people come with their bottles, and basket, and chairs, and form, to sup under the trees, by the waterside, which was mighty pleasant. I to boat again and to my book, and having done that I took another book, Mr. Boyle’s of Colours, and there read, where I laughed, finding many fine things worthy observation, and so landed at the Old Swan, and so home, where I find my poor father newly come out of an unexpected fit of his pain, that they feared he would have died. They had sent for me to Whitehall and all up and down, and for Mr. Holliard also, who did come, but W. Hewer being here did I think do the business in getting my father’s bowel, that was fallen down, into his body again, and that which made me more sensible of it was that he this morning did show me the place where his bowel did use to fall down and swell, which did trouble me to see. But above all things the poor man’s patience under it, and his good heart and humour, as soon as he was out of it, did so work upon me, that my heart was sad to think upon his condition, but do hope that a way will be found by a steel truss to relieve him. By and by to supper, all our discourse about Brampton, and my intentions to build there if I could be free of my engagement to my Uncle Thomas and his son, that they may not have what I have built, against my will, to them whether I will or no, in case of me and my brothers being without heirs male; which is the true reason why I am against laying out money upon that place, together with my fear of some inconvenience by being so near Hinchingbroke; being obliged to be a servant to that family, and subject to what expense they shall cost me; and to have all that I shall buy, or do, esteemed as got by the death of my uncle, when indeed what I have from him is not worth naming. After supper to read and then to bed.
. Up, and there comes Greeting my flageolet master, and I practised with him. There come also Richardson, the bookbinder, with one of Ogilby’s Bibles in quires for me to see and buy, it being Mr. Cade’s, my stationer’s; but it is like to be so big that I shall not use it, it being too great to stir up and down without much trouble, which I shall not like nor do intend it for. So by water to Whitehall, and there find Sir G. Carteret at home, and talked with him a while, and find that the new Commissioners of the Treasury did meet this morning. So I to find out Sir W. Coventry, but missed, only I do hear that they have chosen Sir G. Downing for their Secretary; and I think in my conscience they have done a great thing in it; for he is a business active man, and values himself upon having of things do well under his hand; so that I am mightily pleased in their choice. Here I met Mr. Pierce, who tells me that he lately met Mr. Carcasse, who do mightily inveigh against me, for that all that has been done against him he lays on me, and I think he is in the right and I do own it, only I find what I suspected, that he do report that Sir W. Batten and I, who never agreed before, do now, and since this business agree even more, which I did fear would be thought, and therefore will find occasion to undeceive the world in that particular by promoting something shortly against [Sir] W. Batten. So home, and there to sing with my wife before dinner, and then to dinner, and after dinner comes Carcasse to speak with me, but I would not give him way to enlarge on anything, but he would have begun to have made a noise how I have undone him and used all the wit I could in the drawing up of his report, wherein he told me I had taken a great deal of pains to undo him. To which I did not think fit to enter into any answer, but dismissed him, and so I again up to my chamber, vexed at the impudence of this rogue, but I think I shall be wary enough for him. So to my chamber, and there did some little business, and then abroad, and stopped at the Bear-garden-stairs,3429 there to see a prize fought. But the house so full there was no getting in there, so forced to go through an alehouse into the pit, where the bears are baited; and upon a stool did see them fight, which they did very furiously, a butcher and a waterman. The former had the better all along, till by and by the latter dropped his sword out of his hand, and the butcher, whether not seeing his sword dropped I know not, but did give him a cut over the wrist, so as he was disabled to fight any longer. But, Lord! to see how in a minute the whole stage was full of watermen to revenge the foul play, and the butchers to defend their fellow, though most blamed him; and there they all fell to it to knocking down and cutting many on each side. It was pleasant to see, but that I stood in the pit, and feared that in the tumult I might get some hurt. At last the rabble broke up, and so I away to Whitehall and so to St. James’s, but I found not Sir W. Coventry, so into the Park and took a turn or two, it being a most sweet day, and so by water home, and with my father and wife walked in the garden, and then anon to supper and to bed. The Duke of Cambridge very ill still.
. Up, and by coach to St. James’s, where I find Sir W. Coventry, and he desirous to have spoke with me. It was to read over a draught of a letter which he hath made for his brother Commissioners and him to sign to us, demanding an account of the whole business of the Navy accounts; and I perceive, by the way he goes about it, that they will do admirable things. He tells me they have chosen Sir G. Downing their Secretary, who will be as fit a man as any in the world; and said, by the by, speaking of the bankers being fearful of Sir G. Downing’s being Secretary, he being their enemy, that they did not intend to be ruled by their Secretary, but do the business themselves. My heart is glad to see so great hopes of good to the nation as will be by these men; and it do me good to see Sir W. Coventry so cheerful as he now is on the same score. Thence home, and there fell to seeing my office and closet there made soundly clean, and the windows cleaned. At which all the morning, and so at noon to dinner. After dinner my wife away down with Jane and W. Hewer to Woolwich, in order to a little air and to lie there tonight, and so to gather May-dew tomorrow morning,3430 which Mrs. Turner hath taught her as the only thing in the world to wash her face with; and I am contented with it. Presently comes Creed, and he and I by water to Fox-hall, and there walked in Spring Garden. A great deal of company, and the weather and garden pleasant: that it is very pleasant and cheap going thither, for a man may go to spend what he will, or nothing, all is one. But to hear the nightingale and other birds, and here fiddles, and there a harp, and here a Jew’s trump, and here laughing, and there fine people walking, is mighty divertising. Among others, there were two pretty women alone, that walked a great while, which being discovered by some idle gentlemen, they would needs take them up; but to see the poor ladies how they were put to it to run from them, and they after them, and sometimes the ladies put themselves along with other company, then the other drew back; at last, the last did get off out of the house, and took boat and away. I was troubled to see them abused so; and could have found in my heart, as little desire of fighting as I have, to have protected the ladies. So by water, set Creed down at Whitehall, and I to the Old Swan, and so home. My father gone to bed, and wife abroad at Woolwich, I to Sir W. Penn, where he and his Lady and Pegg and pretty Mrs. Lowther her sister-in-law at supper, where I sat and talked, and Sir W. Penn, half drunk, did talk like a fool and vex his wife, that I was half pleased and half vexed to see so much folly and rudeness from him, and so late home to bed.
. Up, and by coach to St. James’s, where by and by up to the Duke of York, where, among other things, our parson Mills having the offer of another benefice3431 by Sir Robert Brookes, who was his pupil, he by my Lord Barkeley [of Stratton] is made one of the Duke’s Chaplains, which qualifies him for two livings. But to see how slightly such things are done, the Duke of York only taking my Lord Barkeley’s word upon saying, that we the officers of the Navy do say he is a good man and minister of our parish, and the Duke of York admits him to kiss his hand, but speaks not one word to him; but so a warrant will be drawn from the Duke of York to qualify him, and there’s an end of it. So we into the Duke’s closet, where little to do, but complaint for want of money and a motion of Sir W. Coventry’s that we should all now bethink ourselves of lessening charge to the King, which he said was the only way he saw likely to put the King out of debt, and this puts me upon thinking to offer something presently myself to prevent its being done in a worse manner without me relating to the Victualling business, which, as I may order it, I think may be done and save myself something. Thence home, and there settle to some accounts of mine in my chamber I all the morning till dinner. My wife comes home from Woolwich, but did not dine with me, going to dress herself against night, to go to Mrs. Pierce’s to be merry, where we are to have Knepp and Harris and other good people. I at my accounts all the afternoon, being a little lost in them as to reckoning interest. Anon comes down my wife, dressed in her second mourning, with her black moire waistcoat, and short petticoat, laced with silver lace so basely that I could not endure to see her, and with laced lining, which is too soon, so that I was horrid angry, and went out of doors to the office and there stayed, and would not go to our intended meeting, which vexed me to the blood, and my wife sent twice or thrice to me, to direct her any way to dress her, but to put on her cloth gown, which she would not venture, which made me mad: and so in the evening to my chamber, vexed, and to my accounts, which I ended to my great content, and did make amends for the loss of our mirth this night, by getting this done, which otherwise I fear I should not have done a good while else. So to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined at home, being without any words friends with my wife, though last night I was very angry, and do think I did give her as much cause to be angry with me. After dinner I walked to Arundell House, the way very dusty, the day of meeting of the Society being changed from Wednesday to Thursday, which I knew not before, because the Wednesday is a Council-day, and several of the Council are of the Society, and would come but for their attending the King at Council; where I find much company, indeed very much company, in expectation of the Duchess of Newcastle,3432 who had desired to be invited to the Society; and was, after much debate, pro and con, it seems many being against it; and we do believe the town will be full of ballads of it. Anon comes the Duchess with her women attending her; among others, the Ferabosco,3433 of whom so much talk is that her lady would bid her show her face and kill the gallants. She is indeed black, and hath good black little eyes, but otherwise but a very ordinary woman I do think, but they say sings well. The Duchess hath been a good, comely woman; but her dress so antick, and her deportment so ordinary, that I do not like her at all, nor did I hear her say anything that was worth hearing, but that she was full of admiration, all admiration. Several fine experiments were shown her of colours, loadstones, microscopes, and of liquors among others, of one that did, while she was there, turn a piece of roasted mutton into pure blood, which was very rare. Here was Mrs. Moore of Cambridge, whom I had not seen before, and I was glad to see her; as also a very pretty black boy that run up and down the room, somebody’s child in Arundell House. After they had shown her many experiments, and she cried still she was full of admiration, she departed, being led out and in by several Lords that were there; among others Lord George Barkeley and Earl of Carlisle, and a very pretty young man, the Duke of Somerset.3434 She gone, I by coach home, and there busy at my letters till night, and then with my wife in the evening singing with her in the garden with great pleasure, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and there came young Mrs. Daniel in the morning as I expected about business of her husband’s. I took her into the office to discourse with her about getting some employment for him. … By water to Whitehall to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, the first time I ever was there and I think the second that they have met at the Treasury chamber there. Here I saw Duncomb look as big, and take as much state on him, as if he had been born a lord. I was in with him about Tangier, and at present received but little answer from them, they being in a cloud of business yet, but I doubt not but all will go well under them. Here I met with Sir H. Cholmly, who tells me that he is told this day by Secretary Morris that he believes we are, and shall be, only fooled by the French; and that the Dutch are very high and insolent, and do look upon us as come over only to beg a peace; which troubles me very much, and I do fear it is true. Thence to Sir G. Carteret at his lodgings; who, I perceive, is mightily displeased with this new Treasury; and he hath reason, for it will eclipse him; and he tells me that my Lord Ashly says they understand nothing; and he says he believes the King do not intend they shall sit long. But I believe no such thing, but that the King will find such benefit by them as he will desire to have them continue, as we see he hath done, in the late new Act that was so much decried about the King; but yet the King hath since permitted it, and found good by it. He says, and I believe, that a great many persons at Court are angry at the rise of this Duncomb,3435 whose father, he tells me, was a long-Parliamentman, and a great Committeeman; and this fellow used to carry his papers to Committees after him: he was a kind of an attorney: but for all this, I believe this man will be a great man, in spite of all. Thence I away to Holborne to Mr. Gawden, whom I met at Bernard’s Inn gate, and straight we together to the Navy Office, where we did all meet about some victualling business, and so home to dinner and to the office, where the weather so hot nowadays that I cannot but sleep before I do any business, and in the evening home, and there, to my unexpected satisfaction, did get my intricate accounts of interest, which have been of late much perplexed by mixing of some moneys of Sir G. Carteret’s with mine, evened and set right: and so late to supper, and with great quiet to bed; finding by the balance of my account that I am creditor £6,900,3436 for which the Lord of Heaven be praised!
June 1667
. Up; and there comes to me Mr. Commander, whom I employ about hiring of some ground behind the office, for the building of me a stable and coach-house: for I do find it necessary for me, both in respect to honour and the profit of it also, my expense in hackney-coaches being now so great, to keep a coach, and therefore will do it. Having given him some instructions about it, I to the office, where we sat all the morning; where we have news that our peace with Spain, as to trade, is wholly concluded, and we are to furnish him with some men for Flanders against the French. How that will agree with the French, I know not; but they say that he also hath liberty, to get what men he pleases out of England. But for the Spaniard, I hear that my Lord Castlehaven is raising a regiment of 4,000 men, which he is to command there; and several young gentlemen are going over in commands with him: and they say the Duke of Monmouth is going over only as a traveller, not to engage on either side, but only to see the campaign, which will be becoming him much more than to live whoring and roguing, as he now do. After dinner to the office, where, after a little nap, I fell to business, and did very much with infinite joy to myself, as it always is to me when I have dispatched much business, and therefore it troubles me to see how hard it is for me to settle to it sometimes when my mind is upon pleasure. So home late to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and down to my chamber without trimming myself, or putting on clean linen, thinking only to keep to my chamber and do business today, but when I come there I find that without being shaved I am not fully awake, nor ready to settle to business, and so was fain to go up again and dress myself, which I did, and so down to my chamber, and fell roundly to business, and did to my satisfaction by dinner go far in the drawing up a state of my accounts of Tangier for the new Lords Commissioners. So to dinner, and then to my business again all the afternoon close, when Creed come to visit me, but I did put him off, and to my business, till anon I did make an end, and wrote it fair with a letter to the Lords to accompany my accounts, which I think will be so much satisfaction and so soon done (their order for my doing it being dated but May 30) as they will not find from any hand else. Being weary and almost blind with writing and reading so much today, I took boat at the Old Swan, and there up the river all alone as high as Putney almost, and then back again, all the way reading, and finishing Mr. Boyle’s book of Colours, which is so chymical, that I can understand but little of it, but understand enough to see that he is a most excellent man. So back and home, and there to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and by coach to St. James’s, and with Sir W. Coventry a great while talking about several businesses, but especially about accounts, and how backward our Treasurer is in giving them satisfaction, and the truth is I do doubt he cannot do better, but it is strange to say that being conscious of our doing little at this day, nor for some time past in our office for want of money, I do hang my head to him, and cannot be so free with him as I used to be, nor can be free with him, though of all men, I think, I have the least cause to be so, having taken so much more pains, while I could do anything, than the rest of my fellows. Parted with him, and so going through the Park met Mr. Mills, our parson, whom I went back with to bring him to [Sir] W. Coventry, to give him the form of a qualification for the Duke of York to sign to, to enable him to have two livings: which was a service I did, but much against my will, for a lazy, fat priest. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked a turn or two with Sir William Doyly, who did lay a wager with me, the Treasurership would be in one hand, notwithstanding this present Commission, before Christmas: on which we did lay a poll of ling, a brace of carps, and a pottle of wine; and Sir W. Penn and Mr. Scowen3437 to be at the eating of them. Thence down by water to Deptford, it being Trinity Monday, when the Master is chosen,3438 and there, finding them all at church, and thinking they dined, as usual, at Stepney, I turned back, having a good book in my hand, the Life of Cardinal Wolsey, wrote by his own servant,3439 and to Ratcliff; and so walked to Stepney, and spent, my time in the churchyard,3440 looking over the gravestones, expecting when the company would come by. Finding no company stirring, I sent to the house to see; and, it seems, they dine not there, but at Deptford: so I back again to Deptford, and there find them just sat down. And so I down with them; and we had a good dinner of plain meat, and good company at our table: among others, my good Mr. Evelyn, with whom, after dinner, I stepped aside, and talked upon the present posture of our affairs; which is, that the Dutch are known to be abroad with eighty sail of ships of war, and twenty fire-ships; and the French come into the Channell with twenty sail of men-of-war, and five fire-ships,3441 while we have not a ship at sea to do them any hurt with; but are calling in all we can, while our Embassadors are treating at Bredah; and the Dutch look upon them as come to beg peace, and use them accordingly; and all this through the negligence of our Prince, who hath power, if he would, to master all these with the money and men that he hath had the command of, and may now have, if he would mind his business. But, for aught we see, the Kingdom is likely to be lost, as well as the reputation of it is, forever; notwithstanding so much reputation got and preserved by a rebel that went before him. This discourse of ours ended with sorrowful reflections upon our condition, and so broke up, and Creed and I got out of the room, and away by water to Whitehall, and there he and I waited in the Treasury-chamber an hour or two, where we saw the Country Receivers and Accountants for money come to attend; and one of them, a brisk young fellow, with his hat cocked like a fool behind, as the present fashion among the blades is,3442 committed to the Serjeant. By and by, I, upon desire, was called in, and delivered in my report of my Accounts. Present, Lord Ashly, Clifford, and Duncomb, who, being busy, did not read it; but committed it to Sir George Downing, and so I was dismissed; but, Lord! to see how Duncomb do take upon him is an eyesore, though I think he deserves great honour, but only the suddenness of his rise, and his pride. But I do like the way of these lords, that they admit nobody to use many words, nor do they spend many words themselves, but in great state do hear what they see necessary, and say little themselves, but bid withdraw. Thence Creed and I by water up to Fox Hall, and over against it stopped, thinking to see some Cockfighting; but it was just being done, and, therefore, back again to the other side, and to Spring Garden, and there eat and drank a little, and then to walk up and down the garden, reflecting upon the bad management of things now, compared with what it was in the late rebellious times, when men, some for fear, and some for religion, minded their business, which none now do, by being void of both. Much talk of this and, other kinds, very pleasant, and so when it was almost night we home, setting him in at Whitehall, and I to the Old Swan, and thence home, where to supper, and then to read a little, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and there busy all the morning putting in order the answering the great letter sent to the office by the new Commissioners of the Treasury, who demand an account from the King’s coming in to this day, which we shall do in the best manner we can. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr. Commander to me and tells me, after all, that I cannot have a lease of the ground for my coach-house and stable, till a suit in law be ended, about the end of the old stable now standing, which they and I would have pulled down to make a better way for a coach. I am a little sorry that I cannot presently have it, because I am pretty full in my mind of keeping a coach; but yet, when I think on it again, the Dutch and French both at sea, and we poor, and still out of order, I know not yet what turns there may be, and besides, I am in danger of parting with one of my places, which relates to the Victualling, that brings me by accident in £800 a year, that is, £300 from the King and £500 from D. Gawden. I ought to be well contented to forbear awhile, and therefore I am contented. To the office all the afternoon, where I dispatched much business to my great content, and then home in the evening, and there to sing and pipe with my wife, and that being done, she fell all of a sudden to discourse about her clothes and my humours in not suffering her to wear them as she pleases, and grew to high words between us, but I fell to read a book (Boyle’s Hydrostatics)3443 aloud in my chamber and let her talk, till she was tired and vexed that I would not hear her, and so become friends, and to bed together the first night after 4 or 5 that she hath lain from me by reason of a great cold she had got.
. Up, and with Mr. Kenaston by coach to Whitehall to the Commissioners of the Treasury about getting money for Tangier, and did come to, after long waiting, speak with them, and there I find them all sat; and, among the rest, Duncomb lolling, with his heels upon another chair, by that, that he sat upon, and had an answer good enough, and then away home, and (it being a most windy day, and hath been so all night, South West, and we have great hopes that it may have done the Dutch or French fleets some hurt) having got some papers in order, I back to St. James’s, where we all met at Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and dined and talked of our business, he being a most excellent man, and indeed, with all his business, hath more of his employed upon the good of the service of the Navy, than all of us, that makes me ashamed of it. This noon Captain Perriman brings us word how the Happy Returne’s3444 [crew] below in the Hope, ordered to carry the Portugal Embassador to Holland (and the Embassador, I think, on board), refuse to go till paid; and by their example two or three more ships are in a mutiny: which is a sad consideration, while so many of the enemy’s ships are at this day triumphing in the sea. Here a very good and neat dinner, after the French manner, and good discourse, and then up after dinner to the Duke of York and did our usual business, and are put in hopes by Sir W. Coventry that we shall have money, and so away, Sir G. Carteret and I to my Lord Crew to advise about Sir G. Carteret’s carrying his accounts tomorrow to the Commissioners appointed to examine them and all other accounts since the war, who at last by the King’s calling them to him yesterday and chiding them will sit, but Littleton and Garraway much against their wills. The truth of it is, it is a ridiculous thing, for it will come to nothing, nor do the King nor kingdom good in any manner, I think. Here they talked of my Lord Hinchingbroke’s match with Lord Burlington’s daughter, which is now gone a pretty way forward, and to great content, which I am infinitely glad of. So from hence to Whitehall, and in the street Sir G. Carteret showed me a gentleman coming by in his coach, who hath been sent for up out of Lincolneshire, I think he says he is a justice of peace there, that the Council have laid by the heels here, and here lies in a messenger’s hands, for saying that a man and his wife are but one person, and so ought to pay but 12d. for both to the Poll Bill; by which others were led to do the like: and so here he lies prisoner. To Whitehall, and there I attended to speak with Sir W. Coventry about Lanyon’s business, to get him some money out of the Prize Office from my Lord Ashly, and so home, and there to the office a little, and thence to my chamber to read, and supper, and to bed. My father, blessed be God! finds great ease by his new steel trusse, which he put on yesterday. So to bed. The Duke of Cambridge past hopes of living still.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, where (which he hath not done a great while) Sir G. Carteret come to advise with us for the disposing of £10,000, which is the first sum the new Lords Treasurers have provided us; but, unless we have more, this will not enable us to cut off any of the growing charge which they seem to give it us for, and expect we should discharge several ships quite off with it. So home and with my father and wife to Sir W. Penn’s to dinner, which they invited us to out of their respect to my father, as a stranger; though I know them as false as the devil himself, and that it is only that they think it fit to oblige me; wherein I am a happy man, that all my fellow-officers are desirous of my friendship. Here as merry as in so false a place, and where I must dissemble my hatred, I could be, and after dinner my father and wife to a play, and I to my office, and there busy all the afternoon till late at night, and then my wife and I sang a song or two in the garden, and so home to supper and to bed. This afternoon comes Mr. Pierce to me about some business, and tells me that the Duke of Cambridge is yet living, but every minute expected to die, and is given over by all people, which indeed is a sad loss.
. Up, and after with my flageolet and Mr. Townsend, whom I sent for to come to me to discourse about my Lord Sandwich’s business; for whom I am in some pain, lest the Accounts of the Wardrobe may not be in so good order as may please the new Lords Treasurers, who are quick-sighted, and under obligations of recommending themselves to the King and the world, by their finding and mending of faults, and are, most of them, not the best friends to my Lord, and to the office, and there all the morning. At noon home to dinner, my father, wife, and I, and a good dinner, and then to the office again, where busy all the afternoon, also I have a desire to dispatch all business that hath lain long on my hands, and so to it till the evening, and then home to sing and pipe with my wife, and then to supper and to bed, my head full of thoughts how to keep if I can some part of my wages as Surveyor of the Victualling, which I see must now come to be taken away among the other places that have been occasioned by this war, and the rather because I have of late an inclination to keep a coach. Ever since my drinking, two days ago, some very coole drink at Sir W. Coventry’s table I have been full of wind and with some pain, and I was afraid last night that it would amount to much, but, blessed be God! I find that the worst is past, so that I do clearly see that all the indisposition I am liable today as to sickness is only the Colic. This day I read (shown me by Mr. Gibson) a discourse newly come forth of the King of France, his pretence to Flanders, which is a very fine discourse, and the truth is, hath so much of the Civil Law in it, that I am not a fit judge of it, but, as it appears to me, he hath a good pretence to it by right of his Queen. So to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the news this morning is, that the Dutch are come with a fleet of eighty sail to Harwich, and that guns were heard plain by Sir W. Rider’s people at Bednallgreene, all yesterday even. So to the office, we all sat all the morning, and then home to dinner, where our dinner a ham of French bacon, boiled with pigeons, an excellent dish. Here dined with us only W. Hewer and his mother. After dinner to the office again, where busy till night, and then home and to read a little and then to bed. The news is confirmed that the Dutch are off of Harwich, but had done nothing last night. The King hath sent down my Lord of Oxford to raise the countries there; and all the Westerne barges are taken up to make a bridge over the River, about the Hope, for horse to cross the River, if there be occasion.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and so walked to St. James’s, where I hear that the Duke of Cambridge, who was given over long since by the Doctors, is now likely to recover; for which God be praised! To Sir W. Coventry, and there talked with him a great while; and mighty glad I was of my good fortune to visit him, for it keeps in my acquaintance with him, and the world sees it, and reckons my interest accordingly. In comes my Lord Barkeley, who is going down to Harwich also to look after the militia there: and there is also the Duke of Monmouth, and with him a great many young Hectors, the Lord Chesterfield, my Lord Mandeville, and others: but to little purpose, I fear, but to debauch the country women thereabouts. My Lord Barkeley wanting some maps, and Sir W. Coventry recommending the six maps3445 of England that are bound up for the pocket, I did offer to present my Lord with them, which he accepted: and so I will send them him. Thence to Whitehall, and there to the Chapel, where I met Creed, and he and I stayed to hear who preached, which was a man who begun dully, and so we away by water and landed in Southwarke, and to a church in the street where we take water beyond the bridge, which was so full and the weather hot that we could not stand there. So to my house, where we find my father and wife at dinner, and after dinner Creed and I by water to Whitehall, and there we parted, and I to Sir G. Carteret’s, where, he busy, I up into the house, and there met with a gentleman, Captain Aldrige, that belongs to my Lord Barkeley, and I did give him the book of maps for my Lord, and so I to Westminster Church and there stayed a good while, and saw Betty Michell there. So away thence, and after church time to Mrs. Martin’s, and then hazer what I would with her, and then took boat and up, all alone, a most excellent evening, as high as Barne Elmes, and there took a turn; and then to my boat again, and home, reading and making an end of the book I lately bought a merry satyr called The Visions, translated from Spanish3446 by L’Estrange, wherein there are many very pretty things; but the translation is, as to the rendering it into English expression, the best that ever I saw, it being impossible almost to conceive that it should be a translation. Being come home I find an order come for the getting some fire-ships presently to annoy the Dutch, who are in the King’s Channel, and expected up higher. So [Sir] W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn being come this evening from their country houses to town we did issue orders about it, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up; and news brought us that, the Dutch are come up as high as the Nore; and more pressing orders for fireships. W. Batten, W. Penn, and I to St. James’s; where the Duke of York gone this morning betimes, to send away some men down to Chatham. So we three to Whitehall, and met Sir W. Coventry, who presses all that is possible for fire-ships. So we three to the office presently; and thither comes Sir Fretcheville Hollis,3447 who is to command them all in some exploits he is to do with them on the enemy in the River. So we all down to Deptford, and pitched upon ships and set men at work: but, Lord! to see how backwardly things move at this pinch, notwithstanding that, by the enemy’s being now come up as high as almost the Hope, Sir J. Minnes, who has gone down to pay some ships there, hath sent up the money; and so we are possessed of money to do what we will with. Yet partly ourselves, being used to be idle and in despair, and partly people that have been used to be deceived by us as to money, won’t believe us; and we know not, though we have it, how almost to promise it; and our wants such, and men out of the way, that it is an admirable thing to consider how much the King suffers, and how necessary it is in a State to keep the King’s service always in a good posture and credit. Here I eat a bit, and then in the afternoon took boat and down to Greenwich, where I find the stairs full of people, there being a great riding3448 there today for a man, the constable of the town, whose wife beat him. Here I was with much ado fain to press two watermen to make me a galley, and so to Woolwich to give order for the dispatch of a ship I have taken under my care to see dispatched, and orders being so given, I, under pretence to fetch up the ship, which lay at Grays (the Golden Hand),3449 did do that in my way, and went down to Gravesend, where I find the Duke of Albemarle just come, with a great many idle lords and gentlemen, with their pistols and fooleries; and the bulwarke3450 not able to have stood half an hour had they come up; but the Dutch are fallen down from the Hope and Shell-haven as low as Sheerness, and we do plainly at this time hear the guns play. Yet I do not find the Duke of Albemarle intends to go thither, but stays here tonight, and hath, though the Dutch are gone, ordered our frigates to be brought to a line between the two blockhouses; which I took then to be a ridiculous thing. So I away into the town and took a captain or two of our ships (who did give me an account of the proceedings of the Dutch fleet in the river) to the tavern, and there eat and drank, and I find the townsmen had removed most of their goods out of the town, for fear of the Dutch coming up to them; and from Sir John Griffen,3451 that last night there was not twelve men to be got in the town to defend it: which the master of the house tells me is not true, but that the men of the town did intend to stay, though they did indeed, and so had he, at the Ship, removed their goods. Thence went off to an Ostend man-of-war, just now come up, who met the Dutch fleet, who took three ships that he come convoying hither from him says they are as low as the Nore, or thereabouts. So I homeward, as long as it was light reading Mr. Boyle’s book of Hydrostatics, which is a most excellent book as ever I read, and I will take much pains to understand him through if I can, the doctrine being very useful. When it grew too dark to read I lay down and took a nap, it being a most excellent fine evening, and about one o’clock got home, and after having wrote to Sir W. Coventry an account of what I had done and seen (which is entered in my letter-book), I to bed.
. Up, and more letters still from Sir W. Coventry about more fire-ships, and so Sir W. Batten and I to the office, where Brouncker come to us, who is just now going to Chatham upon a desire of Commissioner Pett’s, who is in a very fearful stink for fear of the Dutch, and desires help for God and the King and kingdom’s sake. So Brouncker goes down, and Sir J. Minnes also, from Gravesend. This morning Pett writes us word that Sheerness is lost last night, after two or three hours’ dispute. The enemy hath possessed himself of that place; which is very sad, and puts us into great fears of Chatham. Sir W. Batten and I down by water to Deptford, and there Sir W. Penn and we did consider of several matters relating to the dispatch of the fire-ships, and so [Sir] W. Batten and I home again, and there to dinner, my wife and father having dined, and after dinner, by W. Hewer’s lucky advice, went to Mr. Fenn, and did get him to pay me above £400 of my wages, and W. Hewer received it for me, and brought it home this night. Thence I meeting Mr. Moore went toward the other end of the town by coach, and spying Mercer in the street, I took leave of Moore and ’light and followed her, and at Paul’s overtook her and walked with her through the dusty street almost to home, and there in Lombard Street met The. Turner in coach, who had been at my house to see us, being to go out of town tomorrow to the Northward, and so I promised to see her tomorrow, and then home, and there to our business, hiring some fire-ships, and receiving every hour almost letters from Sir W. Coventry, calling for more fire-ships; and an order from Council to enable us to take any man’s ships; and Sir W. Coventry, in his letter to us, says he do not doubt but at this time, under an invasion, as he owns it to be, the King may, by law, take any man’s goods. At this business late, and then home; where a great deal of serious talk with my wife about the sad state we are in, and especially from the beating up of drums this night for the trainbands upon pain of death to appear in arms tomorrow morning with bullet and powder, and money to supply themselves with victuals for a fortnight; which, considering the soldiers drawn out to Chatham and elsewhere, looks as if they had a design to ruin the City and give it up to be undone; which, I hear, makes the sober citizens to think very sadly of things. So to bed after supper, ill in my mind. This afternoon Mrs. Williams sent to me to speak with her, which I did, only about news. I had not spoke with her many a day before by reason of Carcasse’s business.
. Up very betimes to our business at the office, there hiring of more fire-ships; and at it close all the morning. At noon home, and Sir W. Penn dined with us. By and by, after dinner, my wife out by coach to see her mother; and I in another, being afraid, at this busy time, to be seen with a woman in a coach, as if I were idle, towards The. Turner’s; but met Sir W. Coventry’s boy; and there in his letter find that the Dutch had made no motion since their taking Sheerness; and the Duke of Albemarle writes that all is safe as to the great ships against any assault, the boom and chaine being so fortified; which put my heart into great joy.3452 When I come to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, I find him abroad; but his clerk, Powell, do tell me that ill news is come to Court of the Dutch breaking the Chaine at Chatham;3453 which struck me to the heart. And to Whitehall to hear the truth of it; and there, going up the backstairs, I did hear some lackeys speaking of sad news come to Court, saying, that hardly anybody in the Court but do look as if he cried, and would not go into the house for fear of being seen, but slunk out and got into a coach, and to The. Turner’s to Sir W. Turner’s, where I met Roger Pepys, newly come out of the country. He and I talked aside a little, he offering a match for Pall, one Barnes, of whom we shall talk more the next time. His father married a Pepys; in discourse, he told me further that his grandfather, my great grandfather, had £800 per annum, in Queen Elizabeth’s time, in the very town of Cottenham; and that we did certainly come out of Scotland with the Abbot of Crowland.3454 More talk I had, and shall have more with him, but my mind is so sad and head full of this ill news that I cannot now set it down. A short visit here, my wife coming to me, and took leave of The., and so home, where all our hearts do now ache; for the news is true, that the Dutch have broke the chaine and burned our ships, and particularly The Royal Charles,3455 other particulars I know not, but most sad to be sure. And, the truth is, I do fear so much that the whole kingdom is undone, that I do this night resolve to study with my father and wife what to do with the little that I have in money by me, for I give [up] all the rest that I have in the King’s hands, for Tangier, for lost. So God help us! and God knows what disorders we may fall into, and whether any violence on this office, or perhaps some severity on our persons, as being reckoned by the silly people, or perhaps may, by policy of State, be thought fit to be condemned by the King and Duke of York, and so put to trouble; though, God knows! I have, in my own person, done my full duty, I am sure. So having with much ado finished my business at the office, I home to consider with my father and wife of things, and then to supper and to bed with a heavy heart. The manner of my advising this night with my father was, I took him and my wife up to her chamber, and shut the door; and there told them the sad state of the times how we are like to be all undone; that I do fear some violence will be offered to this office, where all I have in the world is; and resolved upon sending it away—sometimes into the country—sometimes my father to lie in town, and have the gold with him at Sarah Giles’s, and with that resolution went to bed full of fear and fright, hardly slept all night.
. No sooner up but hear the sad news confirmed of the Royal Charles being taken by them, and now in fitting by them—which Pett should have carried up higher by our several orders, and deserves, therefore, to be hanged for not doing it—and turning several others; and that another fleet is come up into the Hope. Upon which news the King and Duke of York have been below3456 since four o’clock in the morning, to command the sinking of ships at Barking-Creeke, and other places, to stop their coming up higher: which put me into such a fear, that I presently resolved of my father’s and wife’s going into the country; and, at two hours’ warning, they did go by the coach this day, with about £1,300 in gold in their night-bag. Pray God give them good passage, and good care to hide it when they come home! but my heart is full of fear. They gone, I continued in fright and fear what to do with the rest. W. Hewer hath been at the banker’s, and hath got £500 out of Backewell’s hands of his own money; but they are so called upon that they will be all broke, hundreds coming to them for money: and their answer is, “It is payable at twenty days—when the days are out, we will pay you;” and those that are not so, they make tell over their money, and make their bags false, on purpose to give cause to retell it, and so spend time. I cannot have my 200 pieces of gold again for silver, all being bought up last night that were to be had, and sold for 24 and 25s. apiece.3457 So I must keep the silver by me, which sometimes I think to fling into the house of office, and then again know not how I shall come by it, if we be made to leave the office. Every minute someone or other calls for this or that order; and so I forced to be at the office, most of the day, about the fire-ships which are to be suddenly fitted out: and it’s a most strange thing that we hear nothing from any of my brethren at Chatham; so that we are wholly in the dark, various being the reports of what is done there; insomuch that I sent Mr. Clapham3458 express thither to see how matters go: I did, about noon, resolve to send Mr. Gibson away after my wife with another 1,000 pieces, under colour of an express to Sir Jeremy Smith; who is, as I hear, with some ships at Newcastle; which I did really send to him, and may, possibly, prove of good use to the King; for it is possible, in the hurry of business, they may not think of it at Court, and the charge of an express is not considerable to the King. So though I intend Gibson no further than to Huntingdon I direct him to send the packet forward. My business the most of the afternoon is listening to everybody that comes to the office, what news? which is variously related, some better, some worse, but nothing certain. The King and Duke of York up and down all the day here and there: some time on Tower Hill, where the City militia was; where the King did make a speech to them, that they should venture themselves no further than he would himself. I also sent, my mind being in pain, Saunders after my wife and father, to overtake them at their night’s lodgings, to see how matters go with them. In the evening, I sent for my cousin Sarah [Gyles] and her husband, who come; and I did deliver them my chest of writings about Brampton, and my brother Tom’s papers, and my journals, which I value much; and did send my two silver flagons3459 to Kate Joyce’s: that so, being scattered what I have, something might be saved. I have also made a girdle, by which, with some trouble, I do carry about me £300 in gold about my body, that I may not be without something in case I should be surprised: for I think, in any nation but our’s, people that appear (for we are not indeed so) so faulty as we, would have their throats cut. In the evening comes Mr. Pelling, and several others, to the office, and tell me that never were people so dejected as they are in the City all over at this day; and do talk most loudly, even treason; as, that we are bought and sold—that we are betrayed by the Papists, and others, about the King; cry out that the office of the Ordnance hath been so backward as no powder to have been at Chatham nor Upnor Castle till such a time, and the carriages all broken; that Legge is a Papist; that Upnor, the old good castle built by Queen Elizabeth, should be lately slighted; that the ships at Chatham should not be carried up higher. They look upon us as lost, and remove their families and rich goods in the City; and do think verily that the French, being come down with his army to Dunkirke, it is to invade us, and that we shall be invaded. Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, comes to me about business, and tells me that he hears that the King hath chosen Mr. Pierpont3460 and Vaughan3461 of the West, Privy-councillors; that my Lord Chancellor was affronted in the Hall this day, by people telling him of his Dunkirke house;3462 and that there are regiments ordered to be got together, whereof to be commanders my Lord Fairfax, Ingoldsby, Bethell, Norton, and Birch, and other Presbyterians; and that Dr. Bates will have liberty to preach. Now, whether this be true or not, I know not; but do think that nothing but this will unite us together. Late at night comes Mr. Hudson, the cooper, my neighbour, and tells me that he come from Chatham this evening at five o’clock, and saw this afternoon The Royal James, Oak, and London, burnt by the enemy with their fire-ships: that two or three men-of-war come up with them, and made no more of Upnor Castle’s shooting, than of a fly; that those ships lay below Upnor Castle, but therein, I conceive, he is in an error; that the Dutch are fitting out The Royal Charles; that we shot so far as from the Yard thither, so that the shot did no good, for the bullets grazed on the water; that Upnor played hard with their guns at first, but slowly afterwards, either from the men being beat off, or their powder spent.3463 But we hear that the fleet in the Hope is not come up any higher the last flood; and Sir W. Batten tells me that ships are provided to sink in the River, about Woolwich, that will prevent their coming up higher if they should attempt it. I made my will also this day, and did give all I had equally between my father and wife, and left copies of it in each of Mr. Hater and W. Hewer’s hands, who both witnessed the will, and so to supper and then to bed, and slept pretty well, but yet often waking.
. Up, and to the office; where Mr. Fryer comes and tells me that there are several Frenchmen and Flemish ships in the River, with passes from the Duke of York for carrying of prisoners, that ought to be parted from the rest of the ships, and their powder taken, lest they do fire themselves when the enemy comes, and so spoil us; which is good advice, and I think I will give notice of it; and did so. But it is pretty odd to see how everybody, even at this high time of danger, puts business off of their own hands! He says that he told this to the Lieutenant of the Tower, to whom I, for the same reason, was directing him to go; and the Lieutenant of the Tower bade him come to us, for he had nothing to do with it; and yesterday comes Captain Crew, of one of the fireships, and told me that the officers of the Ordnance would deliver his gunner’s materials, but not compound them,3464 but that we must do it; whereupon I was forced to write to them about it; and one that like a great many come to me this morning by and by comes—Mr. Wilson,3465 and by direction of his, a man of Mr. Gawden’s; who come from Chatham last night, and saw the three ships burnt, they lying all dry, and boats going from the men-of-war and fire them. But that, that he tells me of worst consequence is, that he himself, I think he said, did hear many Englishmen on board the Dutch ships speaking to one another in English; and that they did cry and say, “We did heretofore fight for tickets; now we fight for dollars!” and did ask how such and such a one did, and would commend themselves to them: which is a sad consideration. And Mr. Lewes, who was present at this fellow’s discourse to me, did tell me, that he is told that when they took The Royal Charles, they said that they had their tickets signed, and showed some, and that now they come to have them paid, and would have them paid before they parted. And several seamen come this morning to me, to tell me that, if I would get their tickets paid, they would go and do all they could against the Dutch; but otherwise they would not venture being killed, and lose all they have already fought for: so that I was forced to try what I could do to get them paid. This man tells me that the ships burnt last night did lie above Upnor Castle, over against the Docke; and the boats come from the ships of war and burnt them all which is very sad. And masters of ships, that we are now taking up, do keep from their ships all their stores, or as much as they can, so that we can despatch them, having not time to appraise them nor secure their payment; only some little money we have, which we are fain to pay the men we have with, every night, or they will not work. And indeed the hearts as well as affections of the seamen are turned away; and in the open streets in Wapping, and up and down, the wives have cried publicly, “This comes of your not paying our husbands; and now your work is undone, or done by hands that understand it not.” And Sir W. Batten told me that he was himself affronted with a woman, in language of this kind, on Tower Hill publicly yesterday; and we are fain to bear it, and to keep one at the office door to let no idle people in, for fear of firing of the office and doing us mischief. The City is troubled at their being put upon duty: summoned one hour, and discharged two hours after; and then again summoned two hours after that; to their great charge as well as trouble. And Pelling, the Potticary, tells me the world says all over, that less charge than what the kingdom is put to, of one kind or other, by this business, would have set out all our great ships. It is said they did in open streets yesterday, at Westminster, cry, “A Parliament! a Parliament!” and I do believe it will cost blood to answer for these miscarriages. We do not hear that the Dutch are come to Gravesend; which is a wonder. But a wonderful thing it is that to this day we have not one word yet from Brouncker, or Peter Pett, or J. Minnes, of anything at Chatham. The people that come hither to hear how things go, make me ashamed to be found unable to answer them: for I am left alone here at the office; and the truth is, I am glad my station is to be here, near my own home and out of danger, yet in a place of doing the King good service. I have this morning good news from Gibson; three letters from three several stages, that he was safe last night as far as Royston, at between nine and ten at night. The dismay that is upon us all, in the business of the kingdom and Navy at this day, is not to be expressed otherwise than by the condition the citizens were in when the City was on fire, nobody knowing which way to turn themselves, while everything concurred to greaten the fire; as here the easterly gale and spring-tides for coming up both rivers, and enabling them to break the chaine. D. Gawden did tell me yesterday, that the day before at the Council they were ready to fall together by the ears at the Council-table, arraigning one another of being guilty of the counsel that brought us into this misery, by laying up all the great ships. Mr. Hater tells me at noon that some rude people have been, as he hears, at my Lord Chancellor’s, where they have cut down the trees before his house and broke his windows; and a gibbet either set up before or painted upon his gate, and these three words writ: “Three sights to be seen; Dunkirke, Tangier, and a barren Queen.”3466 It gives great matter of talk that it is said there is at this hour, in the Exchequer, as much money as is ready to break down the floor. This arises, I believe, from Sir G. Downing’s late talk of the greatness of the sum lying there of people’s money, that they would not fetch away, which he showed me and a great many others. Most people that I speak with are in doubt how we shall do to secure our seamen from running over to the Dutch; which is a sad but very true consideration at this day. At noon I am told that my Lord Duke of Albemarle is made Lord High Constable; the meaning whereof at this time I know not, nor whether it, be true or no.3467 Dined, and Mr. Hater and W. Hewer with me; where they do speak very sorrowfully of the posture of the times, and how people do cry out in the streets of their being bought and sold; and both they, and everybody that come to me, do tell me that people make nothing of talking treason in the streets openly: as, that we are bought and sold, and governed by Papists, and that we are betrayed by people about the King, and shall be delivered up to the French, and I know not what. At dinner we discoursed of Tom of the Wood, a fellow that lives like a hermit near Woolwich, who, as they say, and Mr. Bodham,3468 they tell me, affirms that he was by at the justice’s when some did accuse him there for it, did foretell the burning of the City, and now says that a greater desolation is at hand. Thence we read and laughed at Lilly’s prophecies this month, in his Almanac this year.3469 So to the office after dinner; and thither comes Mr. Pierce, who tells me his condition, how he cannot get his money, about £500, which, he says, is a very great part of what he hath for his family and children, out of Viner’s hand: and indeed it is to be feared that this will wholly undo the bankers. He says he knows nothing of the late affronts to my Lord Chancellor’s house, as is said, nor hears of the Duke of Albemarle’s being made High Constable; but says that they are in great distraction at Whitehall, and that everywhere people do speak high against Sir W. Coventry:3470 but he agrees with me, that he is the best Minister of State the King hath, and so from my heart I believe. At night come home Sir W. Batten and W. Penn, who only can tell me that they have placed guns at Woolwich and Deptford, and sunk some ships below Woolwich and Blackewall, and are in hopes that they will stop the enemy’s coming up. But strange our confusion! that among them that are sunk they have gone and sunk without consideration The Franakin,3471 one of the King’s ships, with stores to a very considerable value, that hath been long loaden for supply of the ships; and the new ship at Bristoll, and much wanted there; and nobody will own that they directed it, but do lay it on Sir W. Rider. They speak also of another ship, loaden to the value of £80,000, sunk with the goods in her, or at least was mightily contended for by him, and a foreign ship, that had the faith of the nation for her security: this Sir R. Ford tells us. And it is too plain a truth, that both here and at Chatham the ships that we have sunk have many, and the first of them, been ships completely fitted for fire-ships at great charge. But most strange the backwardness and disorder of all people, especially the King’s people in pay, to do any work, Sir W. Penn tells me, all crying out for money; and it was so at Chatham, that this night comes an order from Sir W. Coventry to stop the pay of the wages of that Yard; the Duke of Albemarle having related, that not above three of 1,100 in pay there did attend to do any work there. This evening having sent a messenger to Chatham on purpose, we have received a dull letter from my Lord Brouncker and Peter Pett, how matters have gone there this week; but not so much, or so particularly, as we knew it by common talk before, and as true. I doubt they will be found to have been but slow men in this business; and they say the Duke of Albemarle did tell my Lord Brouncker to his face that his discharging of the great ships there was the cause of all this; and I am told that it is become common talk against my Lord Brouncker. But in that he is to be justified, for he did it by verbal order from Sir W. Coventry, and with good intent; and it was to good purpose, whatever the success be, for the men would have but spent the King so much the more in wages, and yet not attended on board to have done the King any service; and as an evidence of that, just now, being the 15th day in the morning that I am writing yesterday’s passages, one is with me, Jacob Bryan, Purser of The Princess, who confesses to me that he hath about 180 men borne at this day in victuals and wages on that ship lying at Chatham, being lately brought in thither; of which 180 there was not above five appeared to do the King any service at this late business. And this morning also, some of the Cambridge’s men come up from Portsmouth, by order from Sir Fretcheville Hollis, who boasted to us the other day that he had sent for 50, and would be hanged if 100 did not come up that would do as much as twice the number of other men: I say some of them, instead of being at work at Deptford, where they were intended, do come to the office this morning to demand the payment of their tickets; for otherwise they would, they said, do no more work; and are, as I understand from everybody that has to do with them, the most debauched, damning, swearing rogues that ever were in the Navy, just like their profane commander. So to Sir W. Batten’s to sit and talk a little, and then home to my flageolet, my heart being at pretty good ease by a letter from my wife, brought by Saunders, that my father and wife got well last night to their Inne and out again this morning, and Gibson’s being got safe to Caxton3472 at twelve last night. So to supper, and then to bed. No news today of any motion of the enemy either upwards towards Chatham or this way.
. All the morning at the office. No news more than last night; only Purser Tyler3473 comes and tells me that he being at all the passages in this business at Chatham, he says there have been horrible miscarriages, such as we shall shortly hear of: that the want of boats hath undone us; and it is commonly said, and Sir J. Minnes under his hand tells us, that they were employed by the men of the Yard to carry away their goods; and I hear that Commissioner Pett will be found the first man that began to remove; he is much spoken against, and Brouncker is complained of and reproached for discharging the men of the great ships heretofore. At noon Mr. Hater dined with me; and tells me he believes that it will hardly be the want of money alone that will excuse to the Parliament the neglect of not setting out a fleet, it having never been done in our greatest straits, but however unlikely it appeared, yet when it was gone about, the State or King did compass it; and there is something in it. In like manner all the afternoon busy, vexed to see how slowly things go on for want of money. At night comes, unexpectedly so soon, Mr. Gibson, who left my wife well, and all got down well with them, but not with himself, which I was afeard of, and cannot blame him, but must myself be wiser against another time. He had one of his bags broke, through his breeches, and some pieces dropped out, not many, he thinks, but two, for he ’light, and took them up, and went back and could find no more. But I am not able to tell how many, which troubles me, but the joy of having the greatest part safe there makes me bear with it, so as not to afflict myself for it. This afternoon poor Betty Michell, whom I love, sent to tell my wife her child was dying, which I am troubled for, poor girl! At night home and to my flageolet. Played with pleasure, but with a heavy heart, only it pleased me to think how it may please God I may live to spend my time in the country with plainness and pleasure, though but with little glory. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and called on by several on business of the office. Then to the office to look out several of my old letters to Sir W. Coventry in order to the preparing for justifying this office in our frequent foretelling the want of money. By and by comes Roger Pepys and his son Talbot, whom he had brought to town to settle at the Temple, but, by reason of our present stirs, will carry him back again with him this week. He seems to be but a silly lad. I sent them to church this morning, I staying at home at the office, busy. At noon home to dinner, and much good discourse with him, he being mighty sensible of our misery and mal-administration. Talking of these straits we are in, he tells me that my Lord Arlington did the last week take up £12,000 in gold, which is very likely, for all was taken up that could be. Discoursing afterwards with him of our family he told me, that when I come to his house he will show me a decree in Chancery, wherein there was twenty-six men all housekeepers in the town of Cottenham, in Queen Elizabeth’s time, of our name. He to church again in the afternoon, I stayed at home busy, and did show some dalliance to my maid Nell, speaking to her of her sweetheart which she had, silly girl. After sermon Roger Pepys comes again. I spent the evening with him much troubled with the thoughts of the evils of our time, whereon we discoursed. By and by occasion offered for my writing to Sir W. Coventry a plain bold letter touching lack of money; which, when it was gone, I was afeard might give offence: but upon two or three readings over again the copy of it, I was satisfied it was a good letter; only Sir W. Batten signed it with me, which I could wish I had done alone. Roger Pepys gone, I to the garden, and there dallied a while all alone with Mrs. Markham, and then home to my chamber and to read and write, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning, particularly setting my people to work in transcribing pieces of letters public and private, which I do collect against a black day to defend the office with and myself. At noon dined at home, Mr. Hater with me alone, who do seem to be confident that this nation will be undone, and with good reason: Wishes himself at Hambrough, as a great many more, he says, he believes do, but nothing but the reconciling of the Presbyterian party will save us, and I am of his mind. At the office all the afternoon, where every moment business of one kind or other about the fire-ships and other businesses, most of them vexatious for want of money, the commanders all complaining that, if they miss to pay their men a night, they run away; seamen demanding money of them by way of advance, and some of Sir Fretcheville Hollis’s men, that he so bragged of, demanding their tickets to be paid, or they would not work: this Hollis, Sir W. Batten and W. Penn say, proves a very … , as Sir W. B. terms him, and the other called him a conceited, idle, prating, lying fellow. But it was pleasant this morning to hear Hollis give me the account what, he says, he told the King in Commissioner Pett’s presence, whence it was that his ship was fit sooner than others, telling the King how he dealt with the several Commissioners and agents of the Ports where he comes, offering Lanyon to carry him a Ton or two of goods to the streights, giving Middleton an hour or two’s hearing of his stories of Barbados, going to prayer with Taylor, and standing bare and calling, “If it please your Honour,” to Pett, but Sir W. Penn says that he tells this story to everybody, and believes it to be a very lie. At night comes Captain Cocke to see me, and he and I an hour in the garden together. He tells me there have been great endeavours of bringing in the Presbyterian interest, but that it will not do. He named to me several of the insipid lords that are to command the armies that are to be raised. He says the King and Court are all troubled, and the gates of the Court were shut up upon the first coming of the Dutch to us, but they do mind the business no more than ever: that the bankers, he fears, are broke as to ready-money, though Viner had £100,000 by him when our trouble begun: that he and the Duke of Albemarle have received into their own hands, of Viner, the former £10,000, and the latter £12,000, in tallies or assignments, to secure what was in his hands of theirs; and many other great men of our masters have done the like; which is no good sign, when they begin to fear the main. He and everybody cries out of the office of the Ordnance, for their neglects, both at Gravesend and Upnor, and everywhere else. He gone, I to my business again, and then home to supper and to bed. I have lately played the fool much with our Nell, in playing with her breasts. This night, late, comes a porter with a letter from Monsieur Pratt, to borrow £100 for my Lord Hinchingbroke, to enable him to go out with his troop in the country, as he is commanded; but I did find an excuse to decline it. Among other reasons to myself, this is one, to teach him the necessity of being a good husband, and keeping money or credit by him.
. Up, and did this morning dally with Nell … which I was afterward troubled for. To the office, and there all the morning. Peg Penn come to see me, and I was glad of it, and did resolve to have tried her this afternoon, but that there was company with elle at my home, whither I got her. Dined at home, W. Hewer with me, and then to the office, and to my Lady Penn’s, and did find occasion for Peg to go home with me to my chamber, but there being an idle gentleman with them, he went with us, and I lost my hope. So to the office, and by and by word was brought me that Commissioner Pett is brought to the Tower,3474 and there laid up close prisoner; which puts me into a fright, lest they may do the same with us as they do with him. This puts me upon hastening what I am doing with my people, and collecting out of my papers our defence. Myself got Fist, Sir W. Batten’s clerk, and busy with him writing letters late, and then home to supper and to read myself asleep, after piping, and so to bed. Great news tonight of the blowing up of one of the Dutch greatest ships, while a Council of War was on board: the latter part, I doubt, is not so, it not being confirmed since; but the former, that they had a ship blown up, is said to be true. This evening comes Sir G. Carteret to the office, to talk of business at Sir W. Batten’s; where all to be undone for want of money, there being none to pay the Chest at their public pay the 24th of this month, which will make us a scorn to the world. After he had done there, he and I into the garden, and walked; and the greatest of our discourse is, his sense of the requisiteness of his parting with his being Treasurer of the Navy, if he can, on any good terms. He do harp upon getting my Lord Brouncker to take it on half profit, but that he is not able to secure him in paying him so much. But the thing I do advise him to do by all means, and he resolves on it, being but the same counsel which I intend to take myself. My Lady Jem goes down to Hinchingbroke to lie down, because of the troubles of the times here. He tells me he is not sure that the King of France will not annoy us this year, but that the Court seems [to] reckon upon it as a thing certain, for that is all that I and most people are afeard of this year. He tells me now the great question is, whether a Parliament or no Parliament; and says the Parliament itself cannot be thought able at present to raise money, and therefore it will be to no purpose to call one. I hear this day poor Michell’s child is dead.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy with Fist again, beginning early to overtake my business in my letters, which for a post or two have by the late and present troubles been interrupted. At noon comes Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn, and we to [Sir] W. Penn’s house, and there discoursed of business an hour, and by and by comes an order from Sir R. Browne, commanding me this afternoon to attend the Council-board, with all my books and papers touching the Medway. I was ready [to fear] some mischief to myself, though it appears most reasonable that it is to inform them about Commissioner Pett. I eat a little bit in haste at Sir W. Batten’s, without much comfort, being fearful, though I show it not, and to my office and get up some papers, and found out the most material letters and orders in our books, and so took coach and to the Council-chamber lobby, where I met Mr. Evelyn, who do miserably decry our follies that bring all this misery upon us. While we were discoursing over our public misfortunes, I am called in to a large Committee of the Council: present the Duke of Albemarle, Anglesey, Arlington, Ashly, Carteret, Duncomb, Coventry, Ingram, Clifford, Lauderdale, Morrice, Manchester, Craven, Carlisle, Bridgewater. And after Sir W. Coventry’s telling them what orders His Royal Highness had made for the safety of the Medway, I told them to their full content what we had done, and showed them our letters. Then was Peter Pett called in, with the Lieutenant of the Tower. He is in his old clothes, and looked most sillily. His charge was chiefly the not carrying up of the great ships, and the using of the boats in carrying away his goods; to which he answered very sillily, though his faults to me seem only great omissions. Lord Arlington and Coventry very severe against him; the former saying that, if he was not guilty, the world would think them all guilty.3475 The latter urged, that there must be some faults, and that the Admiral must be found to have done his part. I did say an unhappy word, which I was sorry for, when he complained of want of oares for the boats: and there was, it seems, enough, and good enough, to carry away all the boats with from the King’s occasions. He said he used never a boat till they were all gone but one; and that was to carry away things of great value, and these were his models of ships; which, when the Council, some of them, had said they wished that the Dutch had had them instead of the King’s ships, he answered, he did believe the Dutch would have made more advantage of the models than of the ships, and that the King had had greater loss thereby; this they all laughed at. After having heard him for an hour or more, they bid him withdraw. I all this while showing him no respect, but rather against him, for which God forgive me! for I mean no hurt to him, but only find that these Lords are upon their own purgation, and it is necessary I should be so in behalf of the office. He being gone, they caused Sir Richard Browne3476 to read over his minutes; and then my Lord Arlington moved that they might be put into my hands to put into form, I being more acquainted with such business; and they were so. So I away back with my books and papers; and when I got into the Court it was pretty to see how people gazed upon me, that I thought myself obliged to salute people and to smile, lest they should think I was a prisoner too; but afterwards I found that most did take me to be there to bear evidence against P. Pett; but my fear was such, at my going in, of the success of the day, that at my going in I did think fit to give T. Hater, whom I took with me, to wait the event, my closet-key and directions where to find £500 and more in silver and gold, and my tallies, to remove, in case of any misfortune to me. Thence to Sir G. Carteret’s to take my leave of my Lady Jem, who is going into the country tomorrow; but she being now at prayers with my Lady and family, and hearing here by Yorke, the carrier, that my wife is coming to town, I did make haste home to see her, that she might not find me abroad, it being the first minute I have been abroad since yesterday was se’ennight. It is pretty to see how strange it is to be abroad to see people, as it used to be after a month or two’s absence, and I have brought myself so to it, that I have no great mind to be abroad, which I could not have believed of myself. I got home, and after being there a little, she come, and two of her fellow-travellers with her, with whom we drunk: a couple of merchant-like men, I think, but have friends in our country. They being gone, I and my wife to talk, who did give me so bad an account of her and my father’s method in burying of our gold, that made me mad: and she herself is not pleased with it, she believing that my sister knows of it. My father and she did it on Sunday, when they were gone to church, in open daylight, in the midst of the garden; where, for aught they knew, many eyes might see them: which put me into such trouble, that I was almost mad about it, and presently cast about, how to have it back again to secure it here, the times being a little better now; at least at Whitehall they seem as if they were, but one way or other I am resolved to free them from the place if I can get them. Such was my trouble at this, that I fell out with my wife, that though new come to town, I did not sup with her, nor speak to her tonight, but to bed and sleep.
. Up, without any respect to my wife, only answering her a question or two, without any anger though, and so to the office, where all the morning busy, and among other things Mr. Barber come to me (one of the clerks of the Ticket office) to get me to sign some tickets, and told me that all the discourse yesterday, about that part of the town where he was, was that Mr. Pett and I were in the Tower; and I did hear the same before. At noon, home to dinner, and there my wife and I very good friends; the care of my gold being somewhat over, considering it was in their hands that have as much cause to secure it as myself almost, and so if they will be mad, let them. But yet I do intend to send for it away. Here dined Mercer with us, and after dinner she cut my hair, and then I into my closet and there slept a little, as I do now almost every day after dinner; and then, after dallying a little with Nell, which I am ashamed to think of, away to the office. Busy all the afternoon; in the evening did treat with, and in the end agree; but by some kind of compulsion, with the owners of six merchant ships, to serve the King as men-of-war. But, Lord! to see how against the hair it is with these men and everybody to trust us and the King; and how unreasonable it is to expect they should be willing to lend their ships, and lay out 2 or £300 a man to fit their ships for new voyages, when we have not paid them half of what we owe them for their old services! I did write so to Sir W. Coventry this night. At night my wife and I to walk and talk again about our gold, which I am not quiet in my mind to be safe, and therefore will think of some way to remove it, it troubling me very much. So home with my wife to supper and to bed, miserable hot weather all night it was.
. Up and by water to Whitehall, there to discourse with [Sir] G. Carteret and Mr. Fenn about office business. I found them all aground, and no money to do anything with. Thence homewards, calling at my Tailor’s to bespeak some coloured clothes, and thence to Hercules Pillars, all alone, and there spent 6d. on myself, and so home and busy all the morning. At noon to dinner, home, where my wife shows me a letter from her father, who is going over sea, and this afternoon would take his leave of her. I sent him by her three Jacobuses in gold, having real pity for him and her. So I to my office, and there all the afternoon. This day comes news from Harwich that the Dutch fleet are all in sight, near 100 sail great and small, they think, coming towards them; where, they think, they shall be able to oppose them; but do cry out of the falling back of the seamen, few standing by them, and those with much faintness. The like they write from Portsmouth, and their letters this post are worth reading. Sir H. Cholmly come to me this day, and tells me the Court is as mad as ever; and that the night the Dutch burned our ships the King did sup with my Lady Castlemayne, at the Duchess of Monmouth’s, and there were all mad in hunting of a poor moth. All the Court afraid of a Parliament; but he thinks nothing can save us but the King’s giving up all to a Parliament. Busy at the office all the afternoon, and did much business to my great content. In the evening sent for home, and there I find my Lady Penn and Mrs. Lowther, and Mrs. Turner and my wife eating some victuals, and there I sat and laughed with them a little, and so to the office again, and in the evening walked with my wife in the garden, and did give Sir W. Penn at his lodgings (being just come from Deptford from attending the dispatch of the fire-ships there) an account of what passed the other day at Council touching Commissioner Pett, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where busy, and there comes Mrs. Daniel … At the office I all the morning busy. At noon home to dinner, where Mr. Lewes Phillips, by invitation of my wife, comes, he coming up to town with her in the coach this week, and she expected another gentleman, a fellow-traveller, and I perceive the feast was for him, though she do not say it, but by some mistake he come not, so there was a good dinner lost. Here we had the two Mercers, and pretty merry. Much talk with Mr. Phillips about country business, among others that there is no way for me to purchase any severall lands in Brampton, or making any severall that is not so, without much trouble and cost, and, it may be, not do it neither, so that there is no more ground to be laid to our Brampton house. After dinner I left them, and to the office, and thence to Sir W. Penn’s, there to talk with Mrs. Lowther, and by and by we hearing Mercer and my boy singing at my house, making exceeding good music, to the joy of my heart, that I should be the master of it, I took her to my office and there merry a while, and then I left them, and at the office busy all the afternoon, and sleepy after a great dinner. In the evening come Captain Hart3477 and Haywood to me about the six merchant-ships now taken up for men-of-war; and in talk they told me about the taking of The Royal Charles; that nothing but carelessness lost the ship, for they might have saved her the very tide that the Dutch come up, if they would have but used means and had had but boats: and that the want of boats plainly lost all the other ships. That the Dutch did take her with a boat of nine men, who found not a man on board her, and her laying so near them was a main temptation to them to come on; and presently a man went up and struck her flag and jacke, and a trumpeter sounded upon her “Joan’s placket is torn,”3478 that they did carry her down at a time, both for tides and wind, when the best pilot in Chatham would not have undertaken it, they heeling her on one side to make her draw little water: and so carried her away safe. They being gone, by and by comes Sir W. Penn home, and he and I together talking. He hath been at Court; and in the first place, I hear the Duke of Cambridge is dead;3479 a which is a great loss to the nation, having, I think, never an heir male now of the King’s or Duke’s to succeed to the Crown. He tells me that they do begin already to damn the Dutch, and call them cowards at Whitehall, and think of them and their business no better than they used to do; which is very sad. The King did tell him himself, which is so, I was told, here in the City, that the City, hath lent him £10,000, to be laid out towards securing of the River of Thames; which, methinks, is a very poor thing, that we should be induced to borrow by such mean sums. He tells me that it is most manifest that one great thing making it impossible for us to have set out a fleet this year, if we could have done it for money or stores, was the liberty given the beginning of the year for the setting out of merchantmen, which did take up, as is said, above ten, if not fifteen thousand seamen: and this the other day Captain Cocke tells me appears in the council-books, that is the number of seamen required to man the merchant ships that had passes to go abroad. By and by, my wife being here, they sat down and eat a bit of their nasty victuals, and so parted and we to bed.
. Up to my chamber, and there all the morning reading in my Lord Coke’s Pleas of the Crown,3480 very fine noble reading. After church time comes my wife and Sir W. Penn his lady and daughter; and Mrs. Markham and Captain Harrison (who come to dine with them), by invitation and dined with me, they as good as inviting themselves. I confess I hate their company and tricks, and so had no great pleasure in [it], but a good dinner lost. After dinner they all to church, and I by water alone to Woolwich, and there called on Mr. Bodham: and he and I to see the batteries newly raised; which, indeed, are good works to command the River below the ships that are sunk, but not above them. Here I met with Captain Cocke and Matt. Wren, Fenn, and Charles Porter, and Temple and his wife. Here I fell in with these, and to Bodham’s with them, and there we sat and laughed and drank in his arbour, Wren making much and kissing all the day of Temple’s wife. It is a sad sight to see so many good ships there sunk in the River, while we would be thought to be masters of the sea. Cocke says the bankers cannot, till peace returns, ever hope to have credit again; so that they can pay no more money, but people must be contented to take public security such as they can give them; and if so, and they do live to receive the money thereupon, the bankers will be happy men. Fenn read me an order of council passed the 17th instant, directing all the Treasurers of any part of the King’s revenue to make no payments but such as shall be approved by the present Lords Commissioners; which will, I think, spoil the credit of all his Majesty’s service, when people cannot depend upon payment anywhere. But the King’s declaration3481 in behalf of the bankers, to make good their assignments for money, is very good, and will, I hope, secure me. Cocke says, that he hears it is come to it now, that the King will try what he can soon do for a peace; and if he cannot, that then he will cast all upon the Parliament to do as they see fit: and in doing so, perhaps, he may save us all. The King of France, it is believed, is engaged for this year;3482 so that we shall be safe as to him. The great misery the City and kingdom is like to suffer for want of coals3483 in a little time is very visible, and, is feared, will breed a mutiny; for we are not in any prospect to command the sea for our colliers to come, but rather, it is feared, the Dutch may go and burn all our colliers at Newcastle; though others do say that they lie safe enough there. No news at all of late from Bredagh3484 what our Treaters do. By and by, all by water in three boats to Greenwich, there to Cocke’s, where we supped well, and then late, Wren, Fenn, and I home by water, set me in at the Tower, and they to Whitehall, and so I home, and after a little talk with my wife to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where much business upon me by the coming of people of all sorts about the dispatch of one business or other of the fire-ships, or other ships to be set out now. This morning Greeting come, and I with him at my flageolet. At noon dined at home with my wife alone, and then in the afternoon all the day at my office. Troubled a little at a letter from my father, which tells me of an idle companion, one Coleman, who went down with him and my wife in the coach, and come up again with my wife, a pensioner of the King’s Guard, and one that my wife, indeed, made the feast for on Saturday last, though he did not come; but if he knows nothing of our money I will prevent any other inconvenience. In the evening comes Mr. Povy about business; and he and I to walk in the garden an hour or two, and to talk of State matters. He tells me his opinion that it is out of possibility for us to escape being undone, there being nothing in our power to do that is necessary for the saving us: a lazy Prince, no Council, no money, no reputation at home or abroad. He says that to this day the King do follow the women as much as ever he did; that the Duke of York hath not got Mrs. Middleton, as I was told the other day: but says that he wants not her, for he hath others, and hath always had, and that he [Povy] hath known them brought through the Matted Gallery at Whitehall into his [the Duke’s] closet; nay, he hath come out of his wife’s bed, and gone to others laid in bed for him: that Mr. Brouncker is not the only pimp, but that the whole family is of the same strain, and will do anything to please him: that, besides the death of the two Princes lately, the family is in horrible disorder by being in debt by spending above £60,000 per annum, when he hath not £40,000: that the Duchess is not only the proudest woman in the world, but the most expenseful; and that the Duke of York’s marriage with her hath undone the kingdom, by making the Chancellor so great above reach, who otherwise would have been but an ordinary man, to have been dealt with by other people; and he would have been careful of managing things well, for fear of being called to account; whereas, now he is secure, and hath let things run to rack, as they now appear. That at a certain time Mr. Povy did carry him an account of the state of the Duke of York’s estate, showing in faithfullness how he spent more than his estate would bear, by above £20,000 per annum, and asked my Lord’s opinion of it; to which he answered that no man that loved the King or kingdom durst own the writing of that paper; at which Povy was startled, and reckoned himself undone for this good service, and found it necessary then to show it to the Duke of York’s Commissioners;3485 who read, examined, and approved of it, so as to cause it to be put into form, and signed it, and gave it the Duke. Now the end of the Chancellor was, for fear that his daughter’s ill housewifery should be condemned. He [Povy] tells me that the other day, upon this ill news of the Dutch being upon us, Whitehall was shut up, and the Council called and sat close; and, by the way, he do assure me, from the mouth of some Privy-councillors, that at this day the Privy-council in general do know no more what the state of the kingdom as to peace and war is, than he or I; nor knows who manages it, nor upon whom it depends; and there my Lord Chancellor did make a speech to them, saying that they knew well that he was no friend to the war from the beginning, and therefore had concerned himself little in, nor could say much to it; and a great deal of that kind, to discharge himself of the fault of the war. Upon which my Lord Anglesey rose up and told his Majesty that he thought their coming now together was not to enquire who was, or was not, the cause of the war, but to enquire what was, or could be, done in the business of making a peace, and in whose hands that was, and where it was stopped or forwarded; and went on very highly to have all made open to them: and, by the way, I remember that Captain Cocke did the other day tell me that this Lord Anglesey hath said, within few days, that he would willingly give £10,000 of his estate that he was well secured of the rest, such apprehensions he hath of the sequel of things, as giving all over for lost. He tells me, speaking of the horrid effeminacy of the King, that the King hath taken ten times more care and pains in making friends between my Lady Castlemayne and Mrs. Stewart, when they have fallen out, than ever he did to save his kingdom; nay, that upon any falling out between my Lady Castlemayne’s nurse and her woman, my Lady hath often said she would make the King to make them friends, and they would be friends and be quiet; which the King hath been fain to do: that the King is, at this day, every night in Hyde Park with the Duchess of Monmouth, or with my Lady Castlemaine: that he [Povy] is concerned of late by my Lord Arlington in the looking after some buildings that he is about in Norfolke,3486 where my Lord is laying out a great deal of money; and that he, Mr. Povy, considering the unsafeness of laying out money at such a time as this, and, besides, the enviousness of the particular county, as well as all the kingdom, to find him building and employing workmen, while all the ordinary people of the country are carried down to the seasides for securing the land, he thought it becoming him to go to my Lord Arlington (Sir Thomas Clifford by), and give it as his advice to hold his hands a little; but my Lord would not, but would have him go on, and so Sir Thomas Clifford advised also, which one would think, if he were a statesman worth a fart should be a sign of his foreseeing that all shall do well. But I do forbear concluding any such thing from them. He tells me that there is not so great confidence between any two men of power in the nation at this day, that he knows of, as between my Lord Arlington and Sir Thomas Clifford; and that it arises by accident only, there being no relation nor acquaintance between them, but only Sir Thomas Clifford’s coming to him, and applying himself to him for favours, when he come first up to town to be a Parliament-man. He tells me that he do not think there is anything in the world for us possibly to be saved by but the King of France’s generousness to stand by us against the Dutch, and getting us a tolerable peace, it may be, upon our giving him Tangier and the islands he hath taken, and other things he shall please to ask. He confirms me in the several grounds I have conceived of fearing that we shall shortly fall into mutinies and outrages among ourselves, and that therefore he, as a Treasurer, and therefore much more myself, I say, as being not only a Treasurer but an officer of the Navy, on whom, for all the world knows, the faults of all our evils are to be laid, do fear to be seized on by some rude hands as having money to answer for, which will make me the more desirous to get off of this Treasurership as soon as I can, as I had before in my mind resolved. Having done all this discourse, and concluded the kingdom in a desperate condition, we parted; and I to my wife, with whom was Mercer and Betty Michell, poor woman, come with her husband to see us after the death of her little girl. We sat in the garden together a while, it being night, and then Mercer and I a song or two, and then in (the Michell’s home), my wife, Mercer, and I to supper, and then parted and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn in his new chariot (which indeed is plain, but pretty and more fashionable in shape than any coach he hath, and yet do not cost him, harness and all, above £32) to Whitehall; where stayed a very little: and thence to St. James’s to [Sir] W. Coventry, whom I have not seen since before the coming of the Dutch into the river, nor did indeed know how well to go see him, for shame either to him or me, or both of us, to find ourselves in so much misery. I find that he and his fellow-Treasurers are in the utmost want of money, and do find fault with Sir G. Carteret, that, having kept the mystery of borrowing money to himself so long, to the ruin of the nation, as [Sir] W. Coventry said in words to [Sir] W. Penn and me, he should now lay it aside and come to them for money for every penny he hath, declaring that he can raise no more: which, I confess, do appear to me the most like ill-will of anything that I have observed of [Sir] W. Coventry, when he himself did tell us, on another occasion at the same time, that the bankers who used to furnish them money are not able to lend a farthing, and he knows well enough that that was all the mystery [Sir] G. Carteret did use, that is, only his credit with them. He told us the masters and owners of the two ships that I had complained of, for not readily setting forth their ships, which we had taken up to make men-of-war, had been yesterday with the King and Council, and had made their case so well understood, that the King did owe them for what they had earned the last year, that they could not set them out again without some money or stores out of the King’s Yards; the latter of which [Sir] W. Coventry said must be done, for that they were not able to raise money for them, though it was but £200 a ship: which do skew us our condition to be so bad, that I am in a total despair of ever having the nation do well. After talking awhile, and all out of heart with stories of want of seamen, and seamen’s running away, and their demanding a month’s advance, and our being forced to give seamen 3s. a-day to go hence to work at Chatham, and other things that show nothing but destruction upon us; for it is certain that, as it now is, the seamen of England, in my conscience, would, if they could, go over and serve the King of France or Holland rather than us. Up to the Duke of York to his chamber, where he seems to be pretty easy, and now and then merry; but yet one may perceive in all their minds there is something of trouble and care, and with good reason. Thence to Whitehall, and with Sir W. Penn, by chariot; and there in the Court met with my Lord Anglesey: and he to talk with [Sir] W. Penn, and told him of the masters of ships being with the Council yesterday, and that we were not in condition, though the men were willing, to furnish them with £200 of money, already due to them as earned by them the last year, to enable them to set out their ships again this year for the King: which he is amazed at; and when I told him, “My Lord, this is a sad instance of the condition we are in,” he answered, that it was so indeed, and sighed: and so parted: and he up to the Council-chamber, where I perceive they sit every morning, and I to Westminster Hall, where it is Term time. I met with none I knew, nor did desire it, but only past through the-Hall and so back again, and by coach home to dinner, being weary indeed of seeing the world, and thinking it high time for me to provide against the foul weather that is certainly coming upon us. So to the office, and there [Sir] W. Penn and I did some business, and then home to dinner, where my wife pleases me mightily with what she can do upon the flageolet, and then I to the office again, and busy all the afternoon, and it is worth noting that the King and Council, in their order of the 23rd instant, for unloading three merchant-ships taken up for the King’s service for men-of-war, do call the late coming of the Dutch “an invasion.” I was told, yesterday, that Mr. Oldenburg,3487 our Secretary at Gresham College, is put into the Tower, for writing news to a virtuoso in France, with whom he constantly corresponds in philosophical matters; which makes it very unsafe at this time to write, or almost do anything. Several captains come to the office yesterday and today, complaining that their men come and go when they will, and will not be commanded, though they are paid every night, or may be. Nay, this afternoon comes Harry Russell from Gravesend, telling us that the money carried down yesterday for the Chest at Chatham had like to have been seized upon yesterday, in the barge there, by seamen, who did beat our watermen: and what men should these be but the boat’s crew of Sir Fretcheville Hollis, who used to brag so much of the goodness and order of his men, and his command over them. Busy all the afternoon at the office. Towards night I with Mr. Kinaston to Whitehall about a Tangier order, but lost our labour, only met Sir H. Cholmly there, and he tells me great news; that this day in Council the King hath declared that he will call his Parliament in thirty days: which is the best news I have heard a great while, and will, if anything, save the kingdom. How the King come to be advised to this, I know not; but he tells me that it was against the Duke of York’s mind flatly, who did rather advise the King to raise money as he pleased; and against the Chancellor’s, who told the King that Queen Elizabeth did do all her business in eighty-eight without calling a Parliament, and so might he do, for anything he saw. But, blessed be God! it is done; and pray God it may hold, though some of us must surely go to the pot, for all must be flung up to them, or nothing will be done. So back home, and my wife down by water, I sent her, with Mrs. Hewer and her son, W. Hewer, to see the sunk ships, while I stayed at the office, and in the evening was visited by Mr. Roberts the merchant by us about the getting him a ship cleared from serving the King as a man of war, which I will endeavour to do. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and in dressing myself in my dressing chamber comes up Nell, and I did play with her. … So being ready I to Whitehall by water, and there to the Lords Treasurers’ chamber, and there wait, and here it is everybody’s discourse that the Parliament is ordered to meet the 25th of July, being, as they say, St. James’s day; which every creature is glad of. But it is pretty to consider how, walking to the Old Swan from my house, I met Sir Thomas Harvy, whom, asking the news of the Parliament’s meeting, he told me it was true, and they would certainly make a great rout among us. I answered, I did not care for my part, though I was ruined, so that the Commonwealth might escape ruin by it. He answered, that is a good one, in faith; for you know yourself to be secure, in being necessary to the office; but for my part, says he, I must look to be removed; but then, says he, I doubt not but I shall have amends made me; for all the world knows upon what terms I come in; which is a saying that a wise man would not unnecessarily have said, I think, to anybody, meaning his buying his place of my Lord Barkely [of Stratton]. So we parted, and I to Whitehall, as I said before, and there met with Sir Stephen Fox and Mr. Scawen, who both confirm the news of the Parliament’s meeting. Here I stayed for an order for my Tangier money, £30,000, upon the 11 months’ tax, and so away to my Lord Arlington’s office, and there spoke to him about Mr. Lanyon’s business, and received a good answer, and thence to Westminster Hall and there walked a little, and there met with Colonel Reames, who tells me of a letter come last night, or the day before, from my Lord St. Albans, out of France, wherein he says, that the King of France did lately fall out with him, giving him ill names, saying that he had belied him to our King, by saying that he had promised to assist our King, and to forward the peace; saying that indeed he had offered to forward the peace at such a time, but it was not accepted of, and so he thinks himself not obliged, and would do what was fit for him; and so made him to go out of his sight in great displeasure: and he hath given this account to the King, which, Colonel Reymes tells me, puts them into new melancholy at Court, and he believes hath forwarded the resolution of calling the Parliament. Wherewith for all this I am very well contented, and so parted and to the Exchequer, but Mr. Burgess was not in his office; so alone to the Swan, and thither come Mr. Kinaston to me, and he and I into a room and there drank and discoursed, and I am mightily pleased with him for a most diligent and methodical man in all his business. By and by to Burgess, and did as much as we could with him about our Tangier order, though we met with unexpected delays in it, but such as are not to be avoided by reason of the form of the Act and the disorders which the King’s necessities do put upon it, and therefore away by coach, and at Whitehall spied Mr. Povy, who tells me, as a great secret, which none knows but himself, that Sir G. Carteret hath parted with his place of Treasurer of the Navy, by consent, to my Lord Anglesey, and is to be Treasurer of Ireland in his stead; but upon what terms it is I know not, but Mr. Povy tells it is so, and that it is in his power to bring me to as great a friendship and confidence in my Lord Anglesey as ever I was with [Sir] W. Coventry, which I am glad of, and so parted, and I to my tailor’s about turning my old silk suit and cloak into a suit and vest, and thence with Mr. Kinaston (whom I had set down in the Strand and took up again at the Temple gate) home, and there to dinner, mightily pleased with my wife’s playing on the flageolet, and so after dinner to the office. Such is the want already of coals, and the despair of having any supply, by reason of the enemy’s being abroad, and no fleet of ours to secure, that they are come, as Mr. Kinaston tells me, at this day to £5 10s. per chaldron. All the afternoon busy at the office. In the evening with my wife and Mercer took coach and to Islington to the Old House, and there eat and drank and sang with great pleasure, and then round by Hackney home with great pleasure, and when come home to bed, my stomach not being well pleased with the cream we had tonight.
. Wakened this morning, about three o’clock, by Mr. Griffin with a letter from Sir W. Coventry to W. Penn, which W. Penn sent me to see, that the Dutch are come up to the Nore again, and he knows not whether further or no, and would have, therefore, several things done: ships sunk, and I know not what—which Sir W. Penn (who it seems is very ill this night, or would be thought so) hath directed Griffin to carry to the Trinity House; so he went away with the letter, and I tried and with much ado did get a little sleep more, and so up about six o’clock, full of thought what to do with the little money I have left and my plate, wishing with all my heart that that was all secured. So to the office, where much business all the morning, and the more by my brethren being all out of the way; Sir W. Penn this night taken so ill cannot stir; [Sir] W. Batten ill at Walthamstow; Sir J. Minnes the like at Chatham, and my Lord Brouncker there also upon business. Horrible trouble with the backwardness of the merchants to let us have their ships, and seamen’s running away, and not to be got or kept without money. It is worth turning to our letters this day to Sir W. Coventry about these matters. At noon to dinner, having a haunch of venison boiled; and all my clerks at dinner with me; and mightily taken with Mr. Gibson’s discourse of the faults of this war in its management compared [with] that in the last war, which I will get him to put into writing. Thence, after dinner, to the office again, and there I saw the proclamations3488 come out this day for the Parliament to meet the 25th of next month; for which God be praised! and another to invite seamen to bring in their complaints, of their being ill-used in the getting their tickets and money, there being a Committee of the Council appointed to receive their complaints. This noon W. Hewer and T. Hater both tell me that it is all over the town, and Mr. Pierce tells me also, this afternoon coming to me, that for certain Sir G. Carteret hath parted with his Treasurer’s place, and that my Lord Anglesey is in it upon agreement and change of places, though the latter part I do not think. This Povy told me yesterday, and I think it is a wise act of [Sir] G. Carteret. Pierce tells me that he hears for certain fresh at Court, that France and we shall agree; and more, that yesterday was damned at the Council, the Canary Company; and also that my Lord Mordaunt hath laid down his Commission, both good things to please the Parliament, which I hope will do good. Pierce tells me that all the town do cry out of our office, for a pack of fools and knaves; but says that everybody speaks either well, or at least the best of me, which is my great comfort, and think I do deserve it, and shall show I have; but yet do think, and he also, that the Parliament will send us all going; and I shall be well contented with it, God knows! But he tells me how Matt. Wren should say that he was told that I should say that W. Coventry was guilty of the miscarriage at Chatham, though I myself, as he confesses, did tell him otherwise, and that it was wholly Pett’s fault. This do trouble me, not only as untrue, but as a design in some [one] or other to do me hurt; for, as the thing is false, so it never entered into my mouth or thought, nor ever shall. He says that he hath rectified Wren in his belief of this, and so all is well. He gone, I to business till the evening, and then by chance home, and find the fellow that come up with my wife, Coleman, last from Brampton, a silly rogue, but one that would seem a gentleman; but I did not stay with him. So to the office, where late, busy, and then to walk a little in the garden, and so home to supper and to bed. News this tide, that about 80 sail of the Dutch, great and small were seen coming up the river this morning; and this tide some of them to the upper end of the Hope.
. Up, and hear Sir W. Batten is come to town: I to see him; he is very ill of his fever, and come to town only for advice. Sir J. Minnes, I hear also, is very ill all this night, worse than before. Thence I going out met at the gate Sir H. Cholmly coming to me, and I to him in the coach, and both of us presently to St. James’s, by the way discoursing of some Tangier business about money, which the want of I see will certainly bring the place into a bad condition. We find the Duke of York and [Sir] W. Coventry gone this morning, by two o’clock, to Chatham, to come home tonight: and it is fine to observe how both the King and Duke of York have, in their several late journeys to and again, done them in the night for coolness. Thence with him to the Treasury Chamber, and then to the Exchequer to inform ourselves a little about our warrant for £30,000 for Tangier, which vexes us that it is so far off in time of payment. Having walked two or three turns with him in the Hall we parted, and I home by coach, and did business at the office till noon, and then by water to Whitehall to dinner to Sir G. Carteret, but he not at home, but I dined with my Lady and good company, and good dinner. My Lady and the family in very good humour upon this business of his parting with his place of Treasurer of the Navy, which I perceive they do own, and we did talk of it with satisfaction. They do here tell me that the Duke of Buckingham hath surrendered himself to Secretary Morrice, and is going to the Tower. Mr. Fenn, at the table, says that he hath been taken by the watch two or three times of late, at unseasonable hours, but so disguised that they could not know him: and when I come home, by and by, Mr. Lowther tells me that the Duke of Buckingham do dine publicly this day at Wadlow’s, at the Sun Tavern; and is mighty merry, and sent word to the Lieutenant of the Tower, that he would come to him as soon as he had dined. Now, how sad a thing it is, when we come to make sport of proclaiming men traitors, and banishing them, and putting them out of their offices, and Privy Council, and of sending to and going to the Tower: God have mercy on us! At table, my Lady and Sir Philip Carteret have great and good discourse of the greatness of the present King of France—what great things he hath done, that a man may pass, at any hour in the night, all over that wild city [Paris], with a purse in his hand and no danger: that there is not a beggar to be seen in it, nor dirt lying in it; that he hath married two of Colbert’s daughters to two of the greatest princes of France, and given them portions—bought the greatest dukedom in France, and given it to Colbert;3489 and ne’er a prince in France dare whisper against it, whereas here our King cannot do any such thing, but everybody’s mouth is open against him for it, and the man that hath the favour also. That to several commanders that had not money to set them out to the present campaign, he did of his own accord—send them £1,000 sterling apiece, to equip themselves. But then they did enlarge upon the slavery of the people—that they are taxed more than the real estates they have; nay, it is an ordinary thing for people to desire to give the King all their land that they have, and themselves become only his tenants, and pay him rent to the full value of it: so they may have but their earnings. But this will not be granted; but he shall give the value of his rent, and part of his labour too. That there is not a petty governor of a province—nay, of a town, but he will take the daughter from the richest man in the town under him, that hath got anything, and give her to his footman for a wife if he pleases, and the King of France will do the like to the best man in his kingdom—take his daughter from him, and give her to his footman, or whom he pleases. It is said that he do make a sport of us now; and says, that he knows no reason why his cousin, the King of England, should not be as willing to let him have his kingdom, as that the Dutch should take it from him, which is a most wretched thing that ever we should live to be in this most contemptible condition. After dinner Sir G. Carteret come in, and I to him and my Lady, and there he did tell me that the business was done between him and my Lord Anglesey; that himself is to have the other’s place of Deputy Treasurer of Ireland, which is a place of honour and great profit, being far better, I know not for what reason, but a reason there is, than the Treasurer’s, my Lord of Corke’s,3490 and to give the other his, of Treasurer of the Navy; that the King, at his earnest entreaty, did, with much unwillingness, but with owning of great obligations to him, for his faithfulness and long service to him and his father, and therefore was willing to grant his desire. That the Duke of York hath given him the same kind words, so that it is done with all the good manner that could be, and he I perceive do look upon it, and so do I, I confess, as a great good fortune to him to meet with one of my Lord Anglesey’s quality willing to receive it at this time. Sir W. Coventry he hath not yet made acquainted with it, nor do intend it, it being done purely to ease himself of the many troubles and plagues which he thinks the perverseness and unkindness of Sir W. Coventry and others by his means have and is likely every day to bring upon him, and the Parliament’s envy, and lastly to put himself into a condition of making up his accounts, which he is, he says, afeard he shall never otherwise be. My Lord Chancellor, I perceive, is his friend in it. I remember I did in the morning tell Sir H. Cholmly of this business: and he answered me, he was sorry for it; for, whatever Sir G. Carteret was, he is confident my Lord Anglesey is one of the greatest knaves in the world, which is news to me, but I shall make my use of it. Having done this discourse with Sir G. Carteret, and signified my great satisfaction in it, which they seem to look upon as something, I went away and by coach home, and there find my wife making of tea, a drink which Mr. Pelling, the Potticary, tells her is good for her cold and defluxions. I to the office (whither come Mr. Carcasse to me to sue for my favour to him), and Sir W. Penn’s, where I find Mr. Lowther come to town after the journey, and after a small visit to him, I to the office to do much business, and then in the evening to Sir W. Batten’s, to see how he did; and he is better than he was. He told me how Mrs. Lowther had her train held up yesterday by her page,3491 at his house in the country; which is so ridiculous a piece of pride as I am ashamed of. He told me also how he hears by somebody that my Lord Brouncker’s maid hath told that her lady Mrs. Williams had sold her jewels and clothes to raise money for something or other; and indeed the last night a letter was sent from her to me, to send to my Lord, with about five pieces of gold in it, which methought at the time was but a poor supply. I then to Sir W. Penn, who continues a little ill, or dissembles it, the latter of which I am apt to believe. Here I stayed but little, not meaning much kindness in it; and so to the office, and dispatched more business; and then home at night, and to supper with my wife, and who should come in but Mr. Pelling, and supped with us, and told us the news of the town; how the officers of the Navy are cried out upon, and a great many greater men; but do think that I shall do well enough; and I think, if I have justice, I shall. He tells me of my Lord Duke of Buckingham, his dining today at the Sun, and that he was mighty merry; and, what is strange, tells me that really he is at this day a very popular man, the world reckoning him to suffer upon no other account than that he did propound in Parliament to have all the questions that had to do with the receipt of the taxes and prizes; but they must be very silly that do think he can do anything out of good intention. After a great deal of tittle-tattle with this honest man, he gone we to bed. We hear that the Dutch are gone down again; and thanks be to God! the trouble they give us this second time is not very considerable.
. Up, having had many ugly dreams tonight of my father and my sister and mother’s coming to us, and meeting my wife and me at the gate of the office going out, they all in laced suits, and come, they told me, to be with me this May day. My mother told me she lacked a pair of gloves, and I remembered a pair of my wife’s in my chamber, and resolved she should have them, but then recollected how my mother come to be here when I was in mourning for her, and so thinking it to be a mistake in our thinking her all this while dead, I did contrive that it should be said to any that enquired that it was my mother-in-law, my wife’s mother, that was dead, and we in mourning for. This dream troubled me and I waked. … These dreams did trouble me mightily all night. Up, and by coach to St. James’s, and there find Sir W. Coventry and Sir W. Penn above stairs, and then we to discourse about making up our accounts against the Parliament; and Sir W. Coventry did give us the best advice he could for us to provide for our own justification, believing, as everybody do, that they will fall heavily upon us all, though he lay all upon want of money, only a little, he says (if the Parliament be in any temper), may be laid upon themselves for not providing money sooner, they being expressly and industriously warned thereof by him, he says, even to the troubling them, that some of them did afterwards tell him that he had frighted them. He says he do prepare to justify himself, and that he hears that my Lord Chancellor, my Lord Arlington, the Vice Chamberlain and himself are reported all up and down the Coffee houses to be the four sacrifices that must be made to atone the people. Then we to talk of the loss of all affection and obedience, now in the seamen, so that all power is lost. He told us that he do concur in thinking that want of money do do the most of it, but that that is not all, but the having of gentlemen Captains, who discourage all Tarpaulins, and have given out that they would in a little time bring it to that pass that a Tarpaulin should not dare to aspire to more than to be a Boatswain or a gunner. That this makes the Sea Captains to lose their own good affections to the service, and to instil it into the seamen also, and that the seamen do see it themselves and resent it; and tells us that it is notorious, even to his bearing of great ill will at Court, that he hath been the opposer of gentlemen Captains; and Sir W. Penn did put in, and said that he was esteemed to have been the man that did instil it into Sir W. Coventry, which Sir W. Coventry did own also, and says that he hath always told the Gentlemen Captains his opinion of them, and that himself who had now served to the business of the sea 6 or 7 years should know a little, and as much as them that had never almost been at sea, and that yet he found himself fitter to be a Bishop or Pope than to be a Sea-Commander, and so indeed he is. I begun to tell him of the experience I had of the great brags made by Sir F. Hollis the other day, and the little proof either of the command or interest he had in his men, which Sir W. Penn seconded by saying Sir Fr. Hollis had told him that there was not a pilot to be got the other day for his fire-ships, and so was forced to carry them down himself, which Sir W. Coventry says, in my conscience, he knows no more to do and understand the River no more than he do Tiber or Ganges. Thence I away with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, to the Treasury Chamber, but to no purpose, and so by coach home, and there to my office to business, and then home to dinner, and to pipe with my wife, and so to the office again, having taken a resolution to take a turn to Chatham tomorrow, indeed to do business of the King’s, but also to give myself the satisfaction of seeing the place after the Dutch have been here. I have sent to and got Creed to go with me by coach betimes tomorrow morning. After having done my business at the office I home, and there I found Coleman come again to my house, and with my wife in our great chamber, which vexed me, there being a bed therein. I stayed there awhile, and then to my study vexed, showing no civility to the man. But he comes on a compliment to receive my wife’s commands into the country, whither he is going, and it being Saturday my wife told me there was no other room for her to bring him in, and so much is truth. But I stayed vexed in my closet till by and by my cousin Thomas Pepys,3492 of Hatcham, come to see me, and he up to my closet, and there sat talking an hour or two of the sad state of the times, whereof we did talk very freely, and he thinks nothing but a union of religious interests will ever settle us; and I do think that, and the Parliament’s taking the whole management of things into their hands, and severe inquisitions into our miscarriages; will help us. After we had bewailed ourselves and the kingdom very freely one to another (wherein I do blame myself for my freedom of speech to anybody), he gone, and Coleman gone also before, I to the office, whither Creed come by my desire, and he and I to my wife, to whom I now propose the going to Chatham, who, mightily pleased with it, sent for Mercer to go with her, but she could not go, having friends at home, which vexed my wife and me; and the poor wretch would have had anybody else to have gone, but I would like nobody else, so was contented to stay at home, on condition to go to Ispsum next Sunday, which I will do, and so I to the office to dispatch my business, and then home to supper with Creed, and then Creed and I together to bed, very pleasant in discourse. This day talking with Sir W. Batten, he did give me an account how ill the King and Duke of York was advised to send orders for our frigates and fire-ships to come from Gravesend, soon as ever news come of the Dutch being returned into the river, wherein no seamen, he believes, was advised with; for, says he, we might have done just as Warwicke3493 did, when he, W. Batten,3494 come with the King and the like fleet, in the late wars, into the river: for Warwicke did not run away from them, but sailed before them when they sailed, and come to anchor when they come to anchor, and always kept in a small distance from them: so as to be able to take any opportunity of any of their ships running aground, or change of wind, or anything else, to his advantage. So might we have done with our fire-ships, and we have lost an opportunity of taking or burning a good ship of their’s, which was run aground about Holehaven, I think he said, with the wind so as their ships could not get her away; but we might have done what we would with her, and, it may be, done them mischief, too, with the wind. This seems very probable, and I believe was not considered.
. Up about three o’clock, and Creed and I got ourselves ready, and took coach at our gate, it being very fine weather, and the cool of the morning, and with much pleasure, without any stop, got to Rochester about ten of the clock, all the way having mighty pleasant talk of the fate that is over all we do, that it seems as if we were designed in everything, by land by sea, to undo ourselves. At the foot of Rochester bridge, at the landing-place, I met my Lord Brouncker and my Lord Douglas,3495 and all the officers of the soldiers in the town, waiting there for the Duke of York, whom they heard was coming thither this day; by and by comes my Lord Middleton, the first time I remember to have seen him, well mounted, who had been to meet him, but come back without him; he seems a fine soldier, and so everybody says he is; and a man, like my Lord Teviott, and indeed most of the Scotch gentry, as I observe, of few words. After staying here by the waterside and seeing the boats come up from Chatham, with them that rowed with bandoliers about their shoulders, and muskets in their boats, they being the workmen of the Yard, who have promised to redeem their credit, lost by their deserting the service when the Dutch were there, my Lord Brouncker went with Lord Middleton to his inne, the Crown, to dinner, which I took unkindly, but he was slightly invited. So I and Creed down by boat to Chatham-yard (our watermen having their bandoliers about them all the way), and to Commissioner Pett’s house, where my Lord Brouncker told me that I should meet with his dinner two dishes of meat, but did not, but however by the help of Mr. Wiles had some beer and ale brought me, and a good piece of roast beef from somebody’s table, and eat well at two, and after dinner into the garden to show Creed, and I must confess it must needs be thought a sorrowful thing for a man that hath taken so much pains to make a place neat to lose it as Commissioner Pett must now this. Thence to see the batteries made; which, indeed, are very fine, and guns placed so as one would think the River should be very secure. I was glad, as also it was new to me, to see so many fortifications as I have of late seen, and so up to the top of the Hill, there to look, and could see towards Sheerness, to spy the Dutch fleet, but could make [out] none but one vessel, they being all gone. But here I was told, that, in all the late attempt, there was but one man that they knew killed on shore: and that was a man that had laid himself upon his belly upon one of the hills, on the other side of the River, to see the action; and a bullet come, took the ground away just under his belly, and ripped up his belly, and so was killed. Thence back to the docke, and in my way saw how they are fain to take the deals of the rope-house to supply other occasions, and how sillily the country troopers look, that stand upon the passes there; and, methinks, as if they were more willing to run away than to fight, and it is said that the country soldiers did first run at Sheerness, but that then my Lord Douglas’s men did run also; but it is excused that there was no defence for them towards the sea, that so the very beach did fly in their faces as the bullets come, and annoyed them, they having, after all this preparation of the officers of the ordnance, only done something towards the land, and nothing at all towards the sea. The people here everywhere do speak very badly of Sir Edward Spragge, as not behaving himself as he should have done in that business, going away with the first, and that old Captain Pyne, who, I am here told, and no sooner, is Master-Gunner of England, was the last that stayed there. Thence by barge, it raining hard, down to the chaine; and in our way did see the sad wrecks of the poor Royal Oak, James, and London;3496 and several other of our ships by us sunk, and several of the enemy’s, whereof three men-of-war that they could not get off, and so burned. We did also see several dead bodies lie by the side of the water. I do not see that Upnor Castle hath received any hurt by them, though they played long against it; and they themselves shot till they had hardly a gun left upon the carriages, so badly provided they were: they have now made two batteries on that side, which will be very good, and do good service. So to the chaine, and there saw it fast at the end on Upnor side of the River; very fast, and borne up upon the several stages across the River; and where it is broke nobody can tell me. I went on shore on Upnor side to look upon the end of the chaine; and caused the link to be measured, and it was six inches and one-fourth in circumference. They have burned the Crane House that was to hawl it taught. It seems very remarkable to me, and of great honour to the Dutch, that those of them that did go on shore to Gillingham, though they went in fear of their lives, and were some of them killed; and, notwithstanding their provocation at Schelling,3497 yet killed none of our people nor plundered their houses, but did take some things of easy carriage, and left the rest, and not a house burned; and, which is to our eternal disgrace, that what my Lord Douglas’s men, who come after them, found there, they plundered and took all away; and the watermen that carried us did further tell us, that our own soldiers are far more terrible to those people of the country-towns than the Dutch themselves. We were told at the batteries, upon my seeing of the field-guns that were there, that, had they come a day sooner, they had been able to have saved all; but they had no orders, and lay lingering upon the way, and did not come forward for want of direction. Commissioner Pett’s house was all unfurnished, he having carried away all his goods. I met with no satisfaction whereabouts the chaine was broke, but do confess I met with nobody that I could well expect to have satisfaction [from], it being Sunday; and the officers of the Yard most of them abroad, or at the Hill house, at the pay of the Chest, which they did make use of to day to do part in. Several complaints, I hear, of the Monmouth’s coming away too soon from the chaine, where she was placed with the two guard-ships to secure it; and Captain Robert Clerke, my friend, is blamed for so doing there, but I hear nothing of him at London about it; but Captain Brookes’s running aground with the Sancta Maria, which was one of the three ships that were ordered to be sunk to have dammed up the River at the chaine, is mightily cried against, and with reason, he being the chief man to approve of the abilities of other men, and the other two ships did get safe thither and he run aground; but yet I do hear that though he be blameable, yet if she had been there, she nor two more to them three would have been able to have commanded the river all over. I find that here, as it hath been in our river,3498 fire-ships, when fitted, have been sunk afterwards, and particularly those here at the Mussle,3499 where they did no good at all. Our great ships that were run aground and sunk are all well raised but the Vanguard, which they go about to raise tomorrow. The Henery, being let loose to drive up the river of herself, did run up as high as the bridge, and broke down some of the rails of the bridge, and so back again with the tide, and up again, and then berthed himself so well as no pilot could ever have done better; and Punnet says he would not, for his life, have undertaken to have done it, with all his skill. I find it is true that the Dutch did heele The Charles3500 to get her down, and yet run aground twice or thrice, and yet got her safe away, and have her, with a great many good guns in her, which none of our pilots would ever have undertaken. It is very considerable the quantity of goods, which the making of these platforms and batteries do take out of the King’s stores: so that we shall have little left there, and, God knows! no credit to buy any; besides, the taking away and spending of (it is possible) several goods that would have been either rejected or abatement made for them before used. It is a strange thing to see that, while my Lords Douglas and Middleton do ride up and down upon single horses, my Lord Brouncker do go up and down with his hackney-coach and six horses at the King’s charge, which will do, for all this time, and the time that he is likely to stay, must amount to a great deal. But I do not see that he hath any command over the seamen, he being affronted by three or four seamen before my very face, which he took sillily, methought; and is not able to do so much good as a good boatswain in this business. My Lord Brouncker, I perceive, do endeavour to speak well of Commissioner Pett, saying that he did exercise great care and pains while he was there, but do not undertake to answer for his not carrying up of the great ships. Back again to Rochester, and there walked to the Cathedral as they were beginning of the service, but would not be seen to stay to church there, besides had no mind, but rather to go to our inne, the White Hart, where we drank and were fain (the town being so full of soldiers) to have a bed corded for us to lie in, I being unwilling to lie at the Hill house for one night, being desirous to be near our coach to be gone betimes tomorrow morning. Here in the streets, I did hear the Scotch march beat by the drums before the soldiers, which is very odde. Thence to the Castle, and viewed it with Creed, and had good satisfaction from him that showed it us touching the history of it. Then into the fields, a fine walk, and there saw Sir Francis Clerke’s house, which is a pretty seat, and then back to our inne and bespoke supper, and so back to the fields and into the Cherry garden, where we had them fresh gathered, and here met with a young, plain, silly shopkeeper, and his wife, a pretty young woman, the man’s name Hawkins, and I did kiss her, and we talked (and the woman of the house is a very talking bawdy jade), and eat cherries together, and then to walk in the fields till it was late, and did kiss her, and I believe had I had a fit time and place I might have done what I would with her. Walked back and left them at their house near our inne, and then to our inne, where, I hear, my Lord Brouncker hath sent for me to speak with me before I go: so I took his coach, which stands there with two horses, and to him and to his bedside, where he was in bed, and hath a watchman with a halbert at his door; and to him, and did talk a little, and find him a very weak man for this business that he is upon; and do pity the King’s service, that is no better handled, and his folly to call away Pett before we could have found a better man to have stayed in his stead; so took leave of him, and with Creed back again, it being now about 10 at night, and to our inne to supper, and then to bed, being both sleepy, but could get no sheets to our bed, only linen to our mouths, and so to sleep, merrily talking of Hawkins and his wife, and troubled that Creed did see so much of my dalliance, though very little.
July 1667
. Up betimes, about 9 o’clock, waked by a damned noise between a sow gelder and a cow and a dog, nobody after we were up being able to tell us what it was. After being ready we took coach, and, being very sleepy, droused most part of the way to Gravesend, and there ’light, and down to the new batteries, which are like to be very fine, and there did hear a plain fellow cry out upon the folly of the King’s officers above, to spend so much money in works at Woolwich and Deptford, and sinking of good ships loaden with goods, when, if half the charge had been laid out here, it would have secured all that, and this place too, before now. And I think it is not only true in this, but that the best of the actions of us all are so silly, that the meanest people begin to see through them, and contemn them. Besides, says he, they spoil the river by it. Then informed ourselves where we might have some creame, and they guided us to one Goody Best’s, a little out of the town towards London road, and thither we went with the coach, and find it a mighty clean, plain house, and had a dish of very good creame to our liking, and so away presently very merry, and fell to reading of the several Advices to a Painter,3501 which made us good sport, and indeed are very witty, and Creed did also repeat to me some of the substance of letters of old Burleigh in Queen Elizabeth’s time, which he hath of late read in the printed Cabbala,3502 which is a very fine style at this day and fit to be imitated. With this, and talking and laughing at the folly of our masters in the management of things at this day, we got home by noon, where all well, and then to dinner, and after dinner both of us laid down upon the couch and chairs and to sleep, which I did for an hour or two, and then to the office, where I am sorry to hear that Sir J. Minnes is likely to die this night, or tomorrow, I forgot to set down that we met this morning upon the road with Mrs. Williams going down to my Lord Brouncker; we bowed without speaking one to another, but I am ashamed at the folly of the man to have her down at this serious busy time, when the town and country is full of people and full of censure, and against him particularly. At Sir W. Batten’s my Lady tells me that she hears for certain that my Lord’s maid of his lodging here do give out that Mrs. Williams hath been fain of late to sell her best clothes and jewels to get a little money upon, which is a sad condition. Thence to the office, and did write to my Lord Brouncker to give me a little satisfaction about the certainty of the chain’s being broke, which I begin to doubt, and the more from Sir W. Penn’s discourse. It is worth while to read my letter to him entered in my letter book. Home in the evening to supper, and so pretty betimes, about 10 o’clock, to bed, and slept well. This day letters are come that my sister is very ill.
. Up, and put on my new silke camlet suit, made of my cloak, and suit now made into a vest. So to the office, where W. Penn and myself, and Sir T. Harvy met, the first time we have had a meeting since the coming of the Dutch upon this coast. Our only business (for we have little else to do, nobody being willing to trust us for anything) was to speak with the owners of six merchantmen which we have been taking up this fortnight, and are yet in no readiness, they not fitting their ships without money advanced to them, we owing them for what their ships have earned the last year. So everything stands still for money, while we want money to pay for some of the most necessary things that we promised ready money for in the height of our wants, as grapnells, etc. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner my wife and Jane (mighty fine the girl) to go to see Jane’s old mistress, who was to see her, and did see my wife the other day, and it is pleasant to hear with what kindness her old mistress speaks of this girl, and how she would still have her, and how the wench cried when she told her that she must come to her old mistress my wife. They gone, I to my chamber, and there dallied a little with my maid Nell … and so to the office where busy till night, and then comes Mrs. Turner, and walks with me in the garden to talk with me about her husband’s business, and to tell me how she hears at the other end of the town how bad our office is spoken of by the King and Prince and Duke of Albemarle, and that there is not a good word said of any of us but of me; and me they all do speak mightily of, which, whether true or no, I am mighty glad to hear, but from all put together that I hear from other people, I am likely to pass as well as anybody. So, she gone, comes my wife and to walk in the garden, Sir J. Minnes being still ill and so keeping us from singing, and by and by Sir W. Penn come and walked with us and gave us a bottle of Syder, and so we home to supper and to bed. This day I am told that poor Tooker is dead,3503 a very painful poor man as ever I knew.
. Up, and within most of the morning, my tailor’s boy coming to alter something in my new suit I put on yesterday. Then to the office and did business, and then (my wife being a little ill of those in bed) I to Sir W. Batten’s and dined, and there comes in Sir Richard Ford, tells us how he hath been at the Sessions-house, and there it is plain that there is a combination of rogues in the town, that do make it their business to set houses on fire, and that one house they did set on fire in Aldersgate Street last Easter; and that this is proved by two young men, whom one of them debauched by degrees to steal their fathers’ plate and clothes, and at last to be of their company; and they had their places to take up what goods were flung into the streets out of the windows, when the houses were on fire; and this is like to be proved to a great number of rogues, whereof five are already found, and some found guilty this day. One of these boys is the son of a Montagu,3504 of my Lord Manchester’s family; but whose son he could not tell me. This is a strange thing methinks, but I am glad that it is proved so true and discovered. So home, and to enter my Journal of my late journey to this hour, and then to the office, where to do a little business, and then by water to Whitehall (calling at Michell’s in my way, but the rogue would not invite me in, I having a mind para voir his wife), and there to the Council-chamber, to deliver a letter to their Lordships about the state of the six merchantmen which we have been so long fitting out. When I come, the King and the whole table full of Lords were hearing of a pitiful cause of a complaint of an old man, with a great grey beard, against his son, for not allowing him something to live on; and at last come to the ordering the son to allow his father £10 a year. This cause lasted them near two hours; which, methinks, at this time to be the work of the Council-board of England, is a scandalous thing, and methought Sir W. Coventry to me did own as much. Here I find all the news is the enemy’s landing 3,000 men near Harwich,3505 and attacking Landguard Fort, and being beat off thence with our great guns, killing some of their men, and they leaving their ladders behind them; but we had no Horse in the way on Suffolk side, otherwise we might have galled their Foot. The Duke of York is gone down thither this day, while the General3506 sat sleeping this afternoon at the Council-table. The news so much talked of this Exchange, of a peace, I find by Sir Richard Browne arises from a letter the Swedes’ agent hath received from Bredah and showed at Court today, that they are come very near it, but I do not find anybody here relying upon it. This cause being over, the Trinity House men, whom I did not expect to meet, were called in, and there Sir W. Penn made a formal speech in answer to a question of the King’s, whether the lying of the sunk ships in the river would spoil the river. But, Lord! how gingerly he answered it, and with a deal of do that he did not know whether it would be safe as to the enemy to have them taken up, but that doubtless it would be better for the river to have them taken up. Methought the Council found them answer like fools, and it ended in bidding them think more of it, and bring their answer in writing. Thence I to Westminster Hall, and there hear how they talk against the present management of things, and against Sir W. Coventry for his bringing in of new commanders and casting out the old seamen, which I did endeavour to rectify Mrs. Michell and them in, letting them know that he hath opposed it all his life the most of any man in England. After a deal of this tittle tattle, I to Mrs. Martin’s, and there she was gone in before, but when I come, contrary to my expectation, I find her all in trouble, and what was it for but that I have got her with child … and is in exceeding grief, and swears that the child is mine, which I do not believe, but yet do comfort her that either it cannot be so, or if it be that I will take care to send for her husband, though I do hardly see how I can be sure of that, the ship being at sea, and as far as Scotland, but however I must do it, and shall find some way or other of doing it, though it do trouble me not a little. Thence, not pleased, away to Whitehall to Mr. Williamson, and by and by my Lord Arlington about Mr. Lanyon’s business, and it is pretty to see how Mr. Williamson did altogether excuse himself that my business was not done when I come to my Lord and told him my business; “Why,” says my Lord, “it hath been done, and the King signed it several days ago,” and so it was and was in Mr. Williamson’s hands, which made us both laugh, and I in innocent mirth, I remember, said, it is pretty to see in what a condition we are that all our matters nowadays are undone, we know not how, and done we know not when. He laughed at it, but I have since reflected on it, and find it a severe speech as it might be taken by a chief minister of state, as indeed Mr. Williamson is, for he is indeed the Secretary. But we fell to other pleasant talk, and a fine gentleman he is, and so gave him £5 for his fee, and away home, and to Sir W. Batten’s to talk a little, and then to the office to do a little business, and so home to supper and read myself asleep, and then to bed.
. Up, and, in vain expecting Sir R. Ford’s calling on me, I took coach and to the Sessions-house, where I have a mind to hear Bazill Fielding’s case3507 tried; and so got up to the Bench, my Lord Chief-Justice Keeling3508 being Judge. Here I stood bare, not challenging, though I might well enough, to be covered. But here were several fine trials; among others, several brought in for making it their trade to set houses on fire merely to get plunder; and all proved by the two little boys spoken of yesterday by Sir R. Ford, who did give so good account of particulars that I never heard children in my life. And I confess, though I was unsatisfied with the force given to such little boys, to take away men’s lives, yet, when I was told that my Lord Chief-Justice did declare that there was no law against taking the oath of children above twelve years old, and then heard from Sir R. Ford the good account which the boys had given of their understanding the nature and consequence of an oath, and now my own observation of the sobriety and readiness of their answers, further than of any man of any rank that come to give witness this day, though some men of years and learning, I was a little amazed, and fully satisfied that they ought to have as much credit as the rest. They proved against several, their consulting several times at a bawdyhouse in Moore-Fields, called the Russia House, among many other rogueries, of setting houses on fire, that they might gather the goods that were flung into the streets; and it is worth considering how unsafe it is to have children play up and down this lewd town. For these two boys, one is my Lady Montagu’s (I know not what Lady Montagu) son, and the other of good condition, were playing in Moore-Fields, and one rogue, Gabriel Holmes, did come to them and teach them to drink, and then to bring him plate and clothes from their fathers’ houses, and carry him into their houses, and leaving open the doors for him, and at last were made of their conspiracy, and were at the very burning of this house in Aldersgate Street, on Easter Sunday at night last, and did gather up goods, as they had resolved before and this Gabriel Holmes did advise to have had two houses set on fire, one after another, that, while they were quenching of one, they might be burning another. And it is pretty that G. Holmes did tell his fellows, and these boys swore it, that he did set fire to a box of linen in the Sheriffe, Sir Joseph Shelden’s3509 house, while he was attending the fire in Aldersgate Street, and the Sheriffe himself said that there was a fire in his house, in a box of linen, at the same time, but cannot conceive how this fellow should do it. The boys did swear against one of them, that he had made it his part to pull the plug out of the engine while it was a-playing; and it really was so. And goods they did carry away, and the manner of the setting the house on fire was, that Holmes did get to a cockpit; where, it seems, there was a public cockpit, and set fire to the straw in it, and hath a fireball at the end of the straw, which did take fire, and so it prevailed, and burned the house; and, among other things they carried away, he took six of the cocks that were at the cockpit; and afterwards the boys told us how they had one dressed, by the same token it was so hard they could not eat it. But that which was most remarkable was the impudence of this Holmes, who hath been arraigned often, and still got away; and on this business was taken and broke loose just at Newgate Gate; and was last night luckily taken about Bow, who got loose, and run into the river, and hid himself in the rushes; and they pursued him with a dog, and the dog got him and held him till he was taken. But the impudence of this fellow was such, that he denied he ever saw the boys before, or ever knew the Russia House, or that the people knew him; and by and by the mistress of the Russia House was called in, being indicted, at the same time, about another thing; and she denied that the fellow was of her acquaintance, when it was pretty to see how the little boys did presently fall upon her, and ask her how she durst say so, when she was always with them when they met at her house, and particularly when she come in in her smock before a dozen of them, at which the Court laughed, and put the woman away. Well, this fellow Holmes3510 was found guilty of the act of burning the house, and other things, that he stood indicted for. And then there were other good cases, as of a woman that come to serve a gentlewoman, and in three days run away, betimes in the morning, with a great deal of plate and rings, and other good things. It was time very well spent to be here. Here I saw how favourable the judge was to a young gentleman that struck one of the officers, for not making him room: told him he had endangered the loss of his hand, but that he hoped he had not struck him, and would suppose that he had not struck him. About that the Court rose, and I to dinner with my Lord Mayor and Sheriffs; where a good dinner and good discourse; the judge being there. There was also tried this morning Fielding, which I thought had been Bazill3511—but it proved the other, and Bazill was killed; that killed his brother, who was found guilty of murder, and nobody pitied him. The judge seems to be a worthy man, and able: and do intend, for these rogues that burned this house to be hung in some conspicuous place in the town, for an example. After dinner to the Court again, where I heard some more causes, but with so much trouble because of the hot weather that I had no pleasure in it. Anon the Court rose, and I walked to Fleet Street for my belt at the beltmaker’s, and so home and to the office, wrote some letters, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, [Sir] T. Harvy and I met upon Mr. Gawden’s accounts, and was at it all the morning. This morning Sir G. Carteret did come to us, and walked in the garden. It was to talk with me about some thing of my Lord Sandwich’s, but here he told us that the great seale is passed to my Lord Annesly [Anglesey] for Treasurer of the Navy: so that now he do no more belong to us: and I confess, for his sake, I am glad of it, and do believe the other will have little content in it. At noon I home to dinner with my wife, and after dinner to sing, and then to the office a little and Sir W. Batten’s, where I am vexed to hear that Nan Wright, now Mrs. Markham, Sir W. Penn’s maid and whore, is come to sit in our pew at church, and did so while my Lady Batten was there. I confess I am very much vexed at it and ashamed. By and by out with [Sir] W. Penn to Whitehall, where I stayed not, but to the New Exchange to buy gloves and other little errands, and so home and to my office busy till night, and then walked in the garden with my wife, and then to supper and to sing, and so to bed. No news, but that the Dutch are gone clear from Harwich northward, and have given out they are going to Yarmouth.
. Up, and to the office, where some of us sat busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, whither Creed come to dine with us and brings the first word I hear of the news of a peace, the King having letters come to him this noon signifying that it is concluded on, and that Mr. Coventry is upon his way coming over for the King’s satisfaction. The news was so good and sudden that I went with great joy to [Sir] W. Batten and then to [Sir] W. Penn to tell it them, and so home to dinner, mighty merry, and light at my heart only on this ground, that a continuing of the war must undo us, and so though peace may do the like if we do not make good use of it to reform ourselves and get up money, yet there is an opportunity for us to save ourselves. At least, for my own particular, we shall continue well till I can get my money into my hands, and then I will shift for myself. After dinner away, leaving Creed there, by coach to Westminster, where to the Swan and drank, and then to the Hall, and there talked a little with great joy of the peace, and then to Mrs. Martin’s, where I met with the good news que elle ne estcon child, the fear of which she did give me the other day, had troubled me much. My joy in this made me send for wine, and thither come her sister and Mrs. Cragg, and I stayed a good while there. But here happened the best instance of a woman’s falseness in the world, that her sister Doll, who went for a bottle of wine, did come home all blubbering and swearing against one Captain Vandener, a Dutchman of the Rhenish Wine House, that pulled her into a stable by the Dog tavern, and there did tumble her and toss her, calling him all the rogues and toads in the world, when she knows that elle hath suffered me to do anything with her a hundred times. Thence with joyful heart to Whitehall to ask Mr. Williamson the news, who told me that Mr. Coventry is coming over with a project of a peace; which, if the States agree to, and our King, when their Ministers on both sides have showed it them, we shall agree, and that is all: but the King, I hear, do give it out plain that the peace is concluded. Thence by coach home, and there wrote a few letters, and then to consult with my wife about going to Epsum tomorrow, sometimes designing to go and then again not; and at last it grew late and I bethought myself of business to employ me at home tomorrow, and so I did not go. This afternoon I met with Mr. Rolt, who tells me that he is going Cornett under Collonel Ingoldsby, being his old acquaintance, and Ingoldsby hath a troop now from under the King, and I think it is a handsome way for him, but it was an ominous thing, methought, just as he was bidding me his last adieu, his nose fell a-bleeding, which ran in my mind a pretty while after. This afternoon Sir Alexander Frazier, who was of council for Sir J. Minnes, and had given him over for a dead man, said to me at Whitehall:—“What,” says he, “Sir J. Minnes is dead.” I told him, “No! but that there is hopes of his life.” Methought he looked very sillily after it, and went his way. Late home to supper, a little troubled at my not going to Epsum tomorrow, as I had resolved, especially having the Duke of York and [Sir] W. Coventry out of town, but it was my own fault and at last my judgment to stay, and so to supper and to bed. This day, with great satisfaction, I hear that my Lady Jemimah is brought to bed, at Hinchingbroke, of a boy.3512
. Up, and to my chamber, there to settle some papers, and thither comes Mr. Moore to me and talked till church time of the news of the times about the peace and the bad consequences of it if it be not improved to good purpose of fitting ourselves for another war. He tells me he heard that the discontented Parliament-men are fearful that the next sitting the King will put for a general excise, by which to raise him money, and then to fling off the Parliament, and raise a land-army and keep them all down like slaves; and it is gotten among them, that Bab. May, the Privy-purse, hath been heard to say that £300 a-year is enough for any country gentleman; which makes them mad, and they do talk of 6 or £800,000 gone into the Privy-purse this war, when in King James’s time it arose but to £5,000, and in King Charles’s but £10,000 in a year. He tells me that a goldsmith in town told him that, being with some plate with my Lady Castlemayne lately, she directed her woman (the great beauty), “Wilson,” says she, “make a note for this, and for that, to the Privy-purse for money.” He tells me a little more of the baseness of the courses taken at Court in the case of Mr. Moyer,3513 who is at liberty, and is to give £500 for his liberty; but now the great ones are divided, who shall have the money, the Duke of Albemarle on one hand, and another Lord on the other; and that it is fain to be decided by having the person’s name put into the King’s warrant for his liberty, at whose intercession the King shall own that he is set at liberty; which is a most lamentable thing, that we do professedly own that we do these things, not for right and justice sake, but only to gratify this or that person about the King. God forgive us all! Busy till noon, and then home to dinner, and Mr. Moore come and dined with us, and much more discourse at and after dinner of the same kind, and then, he gone, I to my office busy till the evening, and then with my wife and Jane over to Halfway house, a very good walk; and there drank, and in the cool of the evening back again, and sang with pleasure upon the water, and were mightily pleased in hearing a boatful of Spaniards sing, and so home to supper and to bed. Jane of late mighty fine, by reason of a laced whiske her mistress hath given her, which makes her a very graceful servant. But, above all, my wife and I were the most surprised in the beauty of a plain girl, which we met in the little lane going from Redriffe-stairs into the fields, one of the prettiest faces that we think we ever saw in our lives.
. Up, and to my chamber, and by and by comes Greeting, and to my flageolet with him with a pretty deal of pleasure, and then to the office, where [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn and I met about putting men to work for the weighing of the ships in the River sunk. Then home again, and there heard Mr. Caesar play some very good things on the lute together with myself on the violl and Greeting on the violin. Then with my wife abroad by coach, she to her tailor’s, I to Westminster to Burges about my Tangier business, and thence to Whitehall, where I spoke with Sir John Nicholas, who tells me that Mr. Coventry is come from Bredah, as was expected; but, contrary to expectation, brings with him two or three articles which do not please the King: as, to retrench the Act of Navigation, and then to ascertain what are contraband goods; and then that those exiled persons, who are or shall take refuge in their country, may be secure from any further prosecution. Whether these will be enough to break the peace upon, or no, he cannot tell; but I perceive the certainty of peace is blown over. So called on my wife and met Creed by the way, and they two and I to Charing Cross, there to see the great boy and girl that are lately come out of Ireland, the latter eight, the former but four years old, of most prodigious bigness for their age. I tried to weigh them in my arms, and find them twice as heavy as people almost twice their age; and yet I am apt to believe they are very young. Their father a little sorry fellow, and their mother an old Irish woman. They have had four children of this bigness, and four of ordinary growth, whereof two of each are dead. If, as my Lord Ormond certifies, it be true that they are no older, it is very monstrous. So home and to dinner with my wife and to pipe, and then I to the office, where busy all the afternoon till the evening, and then with my wife by coach abroad to Bow and Stratford, it being so dusty weather that there was little pleasure in it, and so home and to walk in the garden, and thither comes Pelling to us to talk, and so in and to supper, and then to bed. All the world being as I hear very much damped that their hopes of peace is become uncertain again.
. Up pretty betimes and to the office, where busy till office time, and then we sat, but nothing to do but receive clamours about money. This day my Lord Anglesey, our new Treasurer, come the first time to the Board, and there sat with us till noon; and I do perceive he is a very notable man, and understanding, and will do things regular, and understand them himself, not trust Fenn, as Sir G. Carteret did, and will solicit soundly for money, which I do fear was Sir G. Carteret’s fault, that he did not do that enough, considering the age we live in, that nothing will do but by solicitation, though never so good for the King or Kingdom, and a bad business well solicited shall, for peace sake, speed when a good one shall not. But I do confess that I do think it a very bold act of him to take upon himself the place of Treasurer of the Navy at this time, but when I consider that a regular accountant never ought to fear anything nor have reason I then do cease to wonder. At noon home to dinner and to play on the flageolet with my wife, and then to the office, where very busy close at my office till late at night. At night walked and sang with my wife in the garden, and so home to supper and to bed. This evening news comes for certain that the Dutch are with their fleet before Dover, and that it is expected they will attempt something there. The business of the peace is quite dashed again, so as now it is doubtful whether the King will condescend to what the Dutch demand, it being so near the Parliament, it being a thing that will, it may be, recommend him to them when they shall find that the not having of a peace lies on his side by denying some of their demands. This morning Captain Clerke (Robin Clerke) was at the table, now commands the Monmouth, and did when the enemy passed the chaine at Chatham the other day, who said publicly at the table that he did admire at the order when it was brought him for sinking of the Monmouth (to the endangering of the ship, and spoiling of all her provisions) when her number of men were upon her that he could have carried her up the River whither he pleased, and have been a guard to the rest, and could have sunk her at any time. He did carry some 100 barrels of powder out of the ship to save it after the orders come for the sinking her. He knew no reason at all, he declares, that could lead them to order the sinking her, nor the rest of the great ships that were sunk, but above all admires they would burn them on shore and sink them there, when it had been better to have sunk them long way in the middle of the River, for then they would not have burned them so low as now they did.
. Up, and to the office betimes, and there all the morning very busy causing papers to be entered and sorted to put the office in order against the Parliament. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again close all the afternoon upon the same occasion with great pleasure till late, and then with my wife and Mercer in the garden and sung, and then home and sung, and to supper with great content, and so to bed. The Duke of York is come back last night from Harwich, the news he brings I know not, nor hear anything today from Dover, whether the enemy have made any attempt there as was expected. This day our girl Mary, whom Payne helped us to, to be under his daughter, when she come to be our cook-maid, did go away declaring that she must be where she might earn something one day, and spend it and play away the next. But a good civil wench, and one neither wife nor I did ever give angry word to, but she has this silly vanity that she must play.
. Up betimes and to my office, and there busy till the office (which was only Sir T. Harvy and myself) met, and did little business and then broke up. He tells me that the Council last night did sit close to determine of the King’s answer about the peace, and that though he do not certainly know, yet by all discourse yesterday he do believe it is peace, and that the King had said it should be peace, and had bidden Alderman Backewell to declare [it] upon the ’Change. It is high time for us to have peace that the King and Council may get up their credits and have time to do it, for that indeed is the bottom of all our misery, that nobody have any so good opinion of the King and his Council and their advice as to lend money or venture their persons, or estates, or pains upon people that they know cannot thrive with all that we can do, but either by their corruption or negligence must be undone. This indeed is the very bottom of every man’s thought, and the certain ground that we must be ruined unless the King change his course, or the Parliament come and alter it. At noon dined alone with my wife. All the afternoon close at the office, very hard at gathering papers and putting things in order against the Parliament, and at night home with my wife to supper, and then to bed, in hopes to have all things in my office in good condition in a little time for anybody to examine, which I am sure none else will.
. Up betimes and to my chamber, there doing business, and by and by comes Greeting and begun a new month with him, and now to learn to set anything from the notes upon the flageolet, but, Lord! to see how like a fool he goes about to give me direction would make a man mad. I then out and by coach to Whitehall and to the Treasury chamber, where did a little business, and thence to the Exchequer to Burges, about Tangier business, and so back again, stepping into the Hall a little, and then homeward by coach, and met at Whitehall with Sir H. Cholmly, and so into his coach, and he with me to the Excise Office, there to do a little business also, in the way he telling me that undoubtedly the peace is concluded; for he did stand yesterday where he did hear part of the discourse at the Council table, and there did hear the King argue for it. Among other things, that the spirits of the seamen were down, and the forces of our enemies are grown too great and many for us, and he would not have his subjects overpressed; for he knew an Englishman would do as much as any man upon hopeful terms; but where he sees he is overpressed, he despairs soon as any other; and, besides that, they have already such a load of dejection upon them, that they will not be in temper a good while again. He heard my Lord Chancellor say to the King, “Sir,” says he, “the whole world do complain publicly of treachery, that things have been managed falsely by some of his great ministers.”—“Sir,” says he, “I am for your Majesty’s falling into a speedy enquiry into the truth of it, and, where you meet with it, punish it. But, at the same time, consider what you have to do, and make use of your time for having a peace; for more money will not be given without much trouble, nor is it, I fear, to be had of the people, nor will a little do it to put us into condition of doing our business.” But Sir H. Cholmly tells me he [the] Chancellors did say the other day at his table, “Treachery!” says he; “I could wish we could prove there was anything of that in it; for that would imply some wit and thoughtfulness; but we are ruined merely by folly and neglect.” And so Sir H. Cholmly tells me they did all argue for peace, and so he do believe that the King hath agreed to the three points Mr. Coventry brought over, which I have mentioned before, and is gone with them back. He tells me further that the Duke of Buckingham was before the Council the other day, and there did carry it very submissively and pleasingly to the King; but to my Lord Arlington, who do prosecute the business, he was most bitter and sharp, and very slighting. As to the letter about his employing a man to cast the King’s nativity, says he to the King, “Sir,” says he, “this is none of my hand, and I refer it to your Majesty whether you do not know this hand.” The King answered, that it was indeed none of his, and that he knew whose it was, but could not recall it presently. “Why,” says he, “it is my sister of Richmond’s,3514 some frolic or other of hers of some certain person; and there is nothing of the King’s name in it, but it is only said to be his by supposition, as is said.” The King, it seems, seemed not very much displeased with what the Duke had said; but, however, he is still in the Tower, and no discourse of his being out in haste, though my Lady Castlemayne hath so far solicited for him that the King and she are quite fallen out: he comes not to her, nor hath for some three or four days; and parted with very foul words, the King calling her a whore, and a jade that meddled with things she had nothing to do with at all: and she calling him fool; and told him if he was not a fool, he would not suffer his businesses to be carried on by fellows that did not understand them, and cause his best subjects, and those best able to serve him, to be imprisoned; meaning the Duke of Buckingham. And it seems she was not only for his liberty, but to be restored to all his places; which, it is thought, he will never be. While we were at the Excise office talking with Mr. Ball, it was computed that the Parliament had given the King for this war only, besides all prizes, and besides the £200,000 which he was to spend of his own revenue, to guard the sea above £5,000,000 and odd £100,000; which is a most prodigious sum. Sir H. Cholmly, as a true English gentleman, do decry the King’s expenses of his Privy-purse, which in King James’s time did not rise to above £5,000 a year, and in King Charles’s to £10,000, do now cost us above £100,000, besides the great charge of the monarchy, as the Duke of York £100,000 of it, and other limbs of the Royal family, and the guards, which, for his part, says he, “I would have all disbanded, for the King is not the better by them, and would be as safe without them; for we have had no rebellions to make him fear anything.” But, contrarily, he is now raising of a land-army, which this Parliament and kingdom will never bear; besides, the commanders they put over them are such as will never be able to raise or command them; but the design is, and the Duke of York, he says, is hot for it, to have a land-army, and so to make the government like that of France, but our princes have not brains, or at least care and forecast enough to do that. It is strange how he and everybody do nowadays reflect upon Oliver, and commend him, what brave things he did, and made all the neighbour princes fear him; while here a prince, come in with all the love and prayers and good liking of his people, who have given greater signs of loyalty and willingness to serve him with their estates than ever was done by any people, hath lost all so soon, that it is a miracle what way a man could devise to lose so much in so little time. Thence he set me down at my Lord Crew’s and away, and I up to my Lord, where Sir Thomas Crew was, and by and by comes Mr. Caesar, who teaches my Lady’s page upon the lute, and here Mr. Caesar did play some very fine things indeed, to my great liking. Here was my Lord Hinchingbroke also, newly come from Hinchingbroke, where all well, but methinks I knowing in what case he stands for money by his demands to me and the report Mr. Moore gives of the management of the family, makes me, God forgive me! to contemn him, though I do really honour and pity them, though they deserve it not, that have so good an estate and will live beyond it. To dinner, and very good discourse with my Lord. And after dinner Sir Thomas Crew and I alone, and he tells me how I am mightily in esteem with the Parliament; there being harangues made in the House to the Speaker, of Mr. Pepys’s readiness and civility to show them everything, which I am at this time very glad of. He tells me the news of the King and my Lady Castlemayne which I have wrote already this day, and the design of the Parliament to look into things very well before they give any more money, and I pray God they may. Thence, after dinner, to St. James’s, but missed Sir W. Coventry, and so home, and there find my wife in a dogged humour for my not dining at home, and I did give her a pull by the nose and some ill words, which she provoked me to by something she spoke, that we fell extraordinarily out, insomuch, that I going to the office to avoid further anger, she followed me in a devilish manner thither, and with much ado I got her into the garden out of hearing, to prevent shame, and so home, and by degrees I found it necessary to calme her, and did, and then to the office, where pretty late, and then to walk with her in the garden, and so to supper, and pretty good friends, and so to bed with my mind very quiet.
. Up pretty betimes, it being mighty hot weather, I lying this night, which I have not done, I believe, since a boy, I am sure not since I had the stone before, with only a rug and a sheet upon me. To my chamber, and my wife up to do something, and by chance we fell out again, but I to the office, and there we did at the board much business, though the most was the dividing of £5,000 which the Lords Commissioners have with great difficulty found upon our letter to them this week that would have required £50,000 among a great many occasions. After rising, my Lord Anglesey, this being the second time of his being with us, did take me aside and asked me where I lived, because he would be glad to have some discourse with me. This I liked well enough, and told him I would wait upon him, which I will do, and so all broke up, and I home to dinner, where Mr. Pierce dined with us, who tells us what troubles me, that my Lord Buckhurst hath got Nell away from the King’s house, lies with her, and gives her £100 a year, so as she hath sent her parts to the house, and will act no more.3515 And yesterday Sir Thomas Crew told me that Lacy lies a-dying of the pox, and yet hath his whore by him, whom he will have to look on, he says, though he can do no more; nor would receive any ghostly advice from a Bishop, an old acquaintance of his, that went to see him. He says there is a strangeness between the King and my Lady Castlemayne, as I was told yesterday. After dinner my wife and I to the New Exchange, to pretty maid Mrs. Smith’s shop, where I left my wife, and I to Sir W. Coventry, and there had the opportunity of talk with him, who I perceive do not like our business of the change of the Treasurer’s hand, and he tells me that he is entered the lists with this new Treasurer before the King in taking away the business of the Victualling money from his hand, and the Regiment, and declaring that he hath no right to the 3d. per by his patent, for that it was always heretofore given by particular Privy Seal, and that the King and Council just upon his coming in had declared £2,000 a year sufficient. This makes him angry, but Sir W. Coventry I perceive cares not, but do every day hold up his head higher and higher, and this day I have received an order from the Commissioners of the Treasury to pay no more pensions for Tangier, which I am glad of, and he tells me they do make bold with all things of that kind. Thence I to Whitehall, and in the street I spied Mrs. Borroughs, and took a means to meet and salute her and talk a little, and then parted, and I home by coach, taking up my wife at the Exchange, and there I am mightily pleased with this Mrs. Smith, being a very pleasant woman. So home, and resolved upon going to Epsum tomorrow, only for air, and got Mrs. Turner to go with us, and so home and to supper (after having been at the office) and to bed. It is an odd and sad thing to say, that though this be a peace worse than we had before, yet everybody’s fear almost is, that the Dutch will not stand by their promise, now the King hath consented to all they would have. And yet no wise man that I meet with, when he comes to think of it, but wishes, with all his heart, a war; but that the King is not a man to be trusted with the management of it. It was pleasantly said by a man in this City, a stranger, to one that told him that the peace was concluded, “Well,” says he, “and have you a peace?”—“Yes,” says the other.—“Why, then,” says he, “hold your peace!” partly reproaching us with the disgracefulness of it, that it is not fit to be mentioned; and next, that we are not able to make the Dutch keep it, when they have a mind to break it. Sir Thomas Crew yesterday, speaking of the King of France, how great a man he is, why, says he, all the world thought that when the last Pope died,3516 there would have been such bandying between the Crowns of France and Spain, whereas, when he was asked what he would have his ministers at Rome do, why, says he, let them choose who they will; if the Pope will do what is fit, the Pope and I will be friends. If he will not, I will take a course with him: therefore, I will not trouble myself; and thereupon the election was despatched in a little time—I think in a day, and all ended.3517
. Up, and my wife, a little before four, and to make us ready; and by and by Mrs. Turner come to us, by agreement, and she and I stayed talking below, while my wife dressed herself, which vexed me that she was so long about it keeping us till past five o’clock before she was ready. She ready; and, taking some bottles of wine, and beer, and some cold fowle with us into the coach, we took coach and four horses, which I had provided last night, and so away. A very fine day, and so towards Epsum, talking all the way pleasantly, and particularly of the pride and ignorance of Mrs. Lowther, in having of her train carried up.3518 The country very fine, only the way very dusty. We got to Epsum by eight o’clock, to the well; where much company, and there we ’light, and I drank the water: they did not, but do go about and walk a little among the women, but I did drink four pints, and had some very good stools by it. Here I met with divers of our town, among others with several of the tradesmen of our office, but did talk but little with them, it growing hot in the sun, and so we took coach again and to the town, to the King’s Head, where our coachman carried us, and there had an ill room for us to go into, but the best in the house that was not taken up. Here we called for drink, and bespoke dinner; and hear that my Lord Buckhurst and Nelly are lodged at the next house, and Sir Charles Sidly3519 with them and keep a merry house. Poor girl! I pity her; but more the loss of her at the King’s house. Here I saw Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten’s clerk that hath been long sick, he looks like a dying man,3520 with a consumption got, as is believed, by the pox, but God knows that the man is in a sad condition, though he finds himself much better since his coming thither, he says. W. Hewer rode with us, and I left him and the women, and myself walked to church, where few people, contrary to what I expected, and none I knew, but all the Houblons, brothers, and them after sermon I did salute, and walk with towards my inne, which was in their way to their lodgings. They come last night to see their elder brother, who stays here at the waters, and away tomorrow. James did tell me that I was the only happy man of the Navy, of whom, he says, during all this freedom the people have taken of speaking treason, he hath not heard one bad word of me, which is a great joy to me; for I hear the same of others, but do know that I have deserved as well as most. We parted to meet anon, and I to my women into a better room, which the people of the house borrowed for us, and there to dinner, a good dinner, and were merry, and Pendleton come to us, who happened to be in the house, and there talked and were merry. After dinner, he gone, we all lay down after dinner (the day being wonderful hot) to sleep, and each of us took a good nap, and then rose; and Tom Wilson come to see me, and sat and talked an hour; and I perceive he hath been much acquainted with Dr. Fuller (Tom) and Dr. Pierson, and several of the great cavalier parsons during the late troubles; and I was glad to hear him talk of them, which he did very ingeniously, and very much of Dr. Fuller’s art of memory, which he did tell me several instances of. By and by he parted, and we took coach and to take the air, there being a fine breeze abroad; and I went and carried them to the well, and there filled some bottles of water to carry home with me; and there talked with the two women that farm the well, at £12 per annum, of the lord of the manor, Mr. Evelyn3521 (who with his lady, and also my Lord George Barkeley’s lady,3522 and their fine daughter, that the King of France liked so well, and did dance so rich in jewels before the King at the Ball I was at, at our Court, last winter, and also their son,3523 a Knight of the Bath, were at church this morning). Here W. Hewer’s horse broke loose, and we had the sport to see him taken again. Then I carried them to see my cousin Pepys’s house, and ’light, and walked round about it, and they like it, as indeed it deserves, very well, and is a pretty place; and then I walked them to the wood hard by, and there got them in the thickets till they had lost themselves, and I could not find the way into any of the walks in the wood, which indeed are very pleasant, if I could have found them. At last got out of the wood again; and I, by leaping down the little bank, coming out of the wood, did sprain my right foot, which brought me great present pain, but presently, with walking, it went away for the present, and so the women and W. Hewer and I walked upon the Downs, where a flock of sheep was; and the most pleasant and innocent sight that ever I saw in my life—we find a shepherd and his little boy reading, far from any houses or sight of people, the Bible to him; so I made the boy read to me, which he did, with the forced tone that children do usually read, that was mighty pretty, and then I did give him something, and went to the father, and talked with him; and I find he had been a servant in my cousin Pepys’s house, and told me what was become of their old servants. He did content himself mightily in my liking his boy’s reading, and did bless God for him, the most like one of the old patriarchs that ever I saw in my life, and it brought those thoughts of the old age of the world in my mind for two or three days after. We took notice of his woolen knit stockings of two colours mixed, and of his shoes shod with iron shoes, both at the toe and heels, and with great nails in the soles of his feet, which was mighty pretty: and, taking notice of them, “Why,” says the poor man, “the downs, you see, are full of stones, and we are faine to shoe ourselves thus; and these,” says he, “will make the stones fly till they sing before me.” I did give the poor man something, for which he was mighty thankful, and I tried to cast stones with his horne crooke. He values his dog mightily, that would turn a sheep any way which he would have him, when he goes to fold them: told me there was about eighteen score sheep in his flock, and that he hath four shillings a week the year round for keeping of them: so we posted thence with mighty pleasure in the discourse we had with this poor man, and Mrs. Turner, in the common fields here, did gather one of the prettiest nosegays that ever I saw in my life. So to our coach, and through Mr. Minnes’s wood, and looked upon Mr. Evelyn’s house; and so over the common, and through Epsum town to our inne, in the way stopping a poor woman with her milk-pail, and in one of my gilt tumblers did drink our bellyfulls of milk, better than any creame; and so to our inne, and there had a dish of creame, but it was sour, and so had no pleasure in it; and so paid our reckoning, and took coach, it being about seven at night, and passed and saw the people walking with their wives and children to take the air, and we set out for home, the sun by and by going down, and we in the cool of the evening all the way with much pleasure home, talking and pleasing ourselves with the pleasure of this day’s work, Mrs. Turner mightily pleased with my resolution, which, I tell her, is never to keep a country-house, but to keep a coach, and with my wife on the Saturday to go sometimes for a day to this place, and then quit to another place; and there is more variety and as little charge, and no trouble, as there is in a country-house. Anon it grew dark, and as it grew dark we had the pleasure to see several glow-wormes, which was mighty pretty, but my foot begins more and more to pain me, which Mrs. Turner, by keeping her warm hand upon it, did much ease; but so that when we come home, which was just at eleven at night, I was not able to walk from the lane’s end to my house without being helped, which did trouble me, and therefore to bed presently, but, thanks be to God, found that I had not been missed, nor any business happened in my absence. So to bed, and there had a cerecloth laid to my foot and leg alone, but in great pain all night long.
. So as I was not able to go today to wait on the Duke of York with my fellows, but was forced in bed to write the particulars for their discourse there, and kept my bed all day, and anon comes Mrs. Turner, and new-dressed my foot, and did it so, that I was at much ease presently, and so continued all day, so as I slept much and well in the daytime, and in the evening rose and eat something, where our poor Jane very sad for the death of her poor brother, who hath left a wife and two small children. I did give her 20s. in money, and what wine she needed, for the burying him. This evening come to see me Pelling, and we did sing together, and he sings well indeed, and after supper I was willing to go to bed to ease my foot again, which I did, and slept well all night.
. In the morning I was able to put on a wide shoe on the foot, and to the office without much pain, and there sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Creed to discourse of our Tangier business, which stands very bad in the business of money, and therefore we expect to have a committee called soon, and to acquaint them among other things with the order come to me for the not paying of any more pensions. We dined together, and after dinner I to the office, and there very late, very busy, doing much business indeed, and so with great comfort home to supper, and so to bed to ease my foot, which toward night began to ache.
. Up, and to my chamber to set down my Journal of Sunday last with much pleasure, and my foot being pretty well, but yet I am forced to limp. Then by coach, set my wife down at the New Exchange, and I to Whitehall to the Treasury chamber, but to little purpose. So to Mr. Burges to as little. There to the Hall and talked with Mrs. Michell, who begins to tire me about doing something for her elder son, which I am willing to do, but know not what. Thence to Whitehall again, and thence away, and took up my wife at Unthanke’s, and left her at the ’Change, and so I to Bennet’s to take up a bill for the last silk I had for my vest and coat, which I owe them for, and so to the Excise Office, and there did a little business, and so to Temple Bar and stayed at my bookseller’s till my wife calls me, and so home, where I am saluted with the news of Hogg’s3524 bringing a rich Canary prize to Hull: and Sir W. Batten do offer me £1,000 down for my particular share, beside Sir Richard Ford’s part, which do tempt me; but yet I would not take it, but will stand and fall with the company. He and two more, the Panther and Fanfan, did enter into consortship; and so they have all brought in each a prize, though ours worth as much as both theirs, and more. However, it will be well worth having, God be thanked for it! This news makes us all very glad. I at Sir W. Batten’s did hear the particulars of it; and there for joy he did give the company that were there a bottle or two of his own last year’s wine,3525 growing at Walthamstow, then which the whole company said they never drank better foreign wine in their lives. Home, and to dinner, and by and by comes Mr. Pierce, who is interested in the Panther, for some advice, and then comes Creed, and he and I spent the whole afternoon till eight at night walking and talking of sundry things public and private in the garden, but most of all of the unhappy state of this nation at this time by the negligence of the King and his Council. The Duke of Buckingham is, it seems, set at liberty, without any further charge against him or other clearing of him, but let to go out; which is one of the strangest instances of the fool’s play with which all public things are done in this age, that is to be apprehended. And it is said that when he was charged with making himself popular—as indeed he is, for many of the discontented Parliament, Sir Robert Howard and Sir Thomas Meres, and others, did attend at the Council-chamber when he was examined—he should answer, that whoever was committed to prison by my Lord Chancellor or my Lord Arlington, could not want being popular. But it is worth considering the ill state a Minister of State is in, under such a Prince as ours is; for, undoubtedly, neither of those two great men would have been so fierce against the Duke of Buckingham at the Council-table the other day, had they [not] been assured of the King’s good liking, and supporting them therein: whereas, perhaps at the desire of my Lady Castlemayne, who, I suppose, hath at last overcome the King, the Duke of Buckingham is well received again, and now these men delivered up to the interest he can make for his revenge. He told me over the story of Mrs. Stewart, much after the manner which I was told it long since, and have entered it in this book, told me by Mr. Evelyn; only he says it is verily believed that the King did never intend to marry her to any but himself, and that the Duke of York and Lord Chancellor were jealous of it; and that Mrs. Stewart might be got with child by the King, or somebody else, and the King own a marriage before his contract, for it is but a contract, as he tells me, to this day, with the Queen, and so wipe their noses of the Crown; and that, therefore, the Duke of York and Chancellor did do all they could to forward the match with my Lord Duke of Richmond, that she might be married out of the way; but, above all, it is a worthy part that this good lady hath acted. Thus we talked till night and then parted, and so I to my office and did business, and so home to supper, and there find my sister Michell3526 come from Lee3527 to see us; but do tattle so much of the late business of the Dutch coming thither that I was weary of it. Yet it is worth remembering what she says: that she hath heard both seamen and soldiers swear they would rather serve the Dutch than the King, for they should be better used.3528 She saw The Royal Charles brought into the river by them; and how they shot off their great guns for joy, when they got her out of Chatham River. I would not forget that this very day when we had nothing to do almost but five merchantmen to man in the River, which have now been about it some weeks, I was asked at Westminster, what the matter was that there was such ado kept in pressing of men, as it seems there is thereabouts at this day. So after supper we all to bed, my foot very well again, I thank God.
. Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, and most of our time taken up with Carcasse upon some complaints brought in against him, and many other petitions about tickets lost, which spends most of our time. Home to dinner, and then to the office again, where very well employed at the office till evening; and then being weary, took out my wife and Will Batelier by coach to Islington, but no pleasure in our going, the way being so dusty that one durst not breathe. Drank at the old house, and so home, and then to the office a little, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up and comes the flageolet master, and brings me two new great Ivory pipes which cost me 32s., and so to play, and he being done, and Balty’s wife taking her leave of me, she going back to Lee today, I to Westminster and there did receive £15,000 orders out of the Exchequer in part of a bigger sum upon the eleven months tax for Tangier, part of which I presently delivered to Sir H. Cholmly, who was there, and thence with Mr. Gawden to Auditor Woods and Beales to examine some precedents in his business of the Victualling on his behalf, and so home, and in my way by coach down Mark Lane, mightily pleased and smitten to see, as I thought, in passing, the pretty woman, the line-maker’s wife that lived in Fenchurch Street, and I had great mind to have gone back to have seen, but yet would correct my nature and would not. So to dinner with my wife, and then to sing, and so to the office, where busy all the afternoon late, and to Sir W. Batten’s and to Sir R. Ford’s, we all to consider about our great prize at Hull, being troubled at our being likely to be troubled with Prince Rupert, by reason of Hogg’s consorting himself with two privateers of the Prince’s, and so we study how to ease or secure ourselves. So to walk in the garden with my wife, and then to supper and to bed. One tells me that, by letter from Holland, the people there are made to believe that our condition in England is such as they may have whatever they will ask; and that so they are mighty high, and despise us, or a peace with us; and there is too much reason for them to do so. The Dutch fleet are in great squadrons everywhere still about Harwich, and were lately at Portsmouth; and the last letters say at Plymouth, and now gone to Dartmouth to destroy our Streights’ fleet lately got in thither; but God knows whether they can do it any hurt, or no, but it was pretty news come the other day so fast, of the Dutch fleets being in so many places, that Sir W. Batten at table cried, “By God,” says he, “I think the Devil shits Dutchmen.”
. Up and to the office, where all the morning, and then towards the ’Change, at noon, in my way observing my mistake yesterday in Mark Lane, that the woman I saw was not the pretty woman I meant, the line-maker’s wife, but a new-married woman, very pretty, a strong-water seller: and in going by, to my content, I find that the very pretty daughter at the Ship tavern, at the end of Billiter Lane, is there still, and in the bar: and, I believe, is married to him that is new come, and hath new trimmed the house. Home to dinner, and then to the office, we having dispatched away Mr. Oviatt to Hull, about our prizes there; and I have wrote a letter of thanks by him to Lord Bellasses, who had writ to me to offer all his service for my interest there, but I dare not trust him. In the evening late walking in the garden with my wife, and then to bed.
. Up betimes, and all the morning, and then to dinner with my wife alone, and then all the afternoon in like manner, in my chamber, making up my Tangier accounts and drawing a letter, which I have done at last to my full content, to present to the Lords Commissioners for Tangier tomorrow; and about seven at night, when finished my letter and weary, I and my wife and Mercer up by water to Barne Elmes, where we walked by moonshine, and called at Lambeth, and drank and had cold meat in the boat, and did eat, and sang, and down home, by almost twelve at night, very fine and pleasant, only could not sing ordinary songs with the freedom that otherwise I would. Here Mercer tells me that the pretty maid of the Ship tavern I spoke of yesterday is married there, which I am glad of. So having spent this night, with much serious pleasure to consider that I am in a condition to fling away an angell3529 in such a refreshment to myself and family, we home and to bed, leaving Mercer, by the way, at her own door.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] J. Minnes to St. James’s, where the first time I have been there since the enemy’s being with us, where little business but lack of money, which now is so professed by Sir W. Coventry as nothing is more, and the King’s whole business owned to be at a stand for want of it. So up to my Lord Chancellor’s, where was a Committee of Tangier in my Lord’s roome, where he is to hear causes, where all the judges’ pictures hang up,3530 very fine. Here I read my letter to them, which was well received, and they did fall seriously to discourse the want of money and other particulars, and to some pretty good purpose. But to see how Sir W. Coventry did oppose both my Lord Chancellor and the Duke of York himself, about the Order of the Commissioners of the Treasury to me for not paying of pensions, and with so much reason, and eloquence so natural, was admirable. And another thing, about his pressing for the reduction of the charge of Tangier, which they would have put off to another time; “But,” says he, “the King suffers so much by the putting off of the consideration of reductions of charge, that he is undone; and therefore I do pray you, sir, to his Royal Highness, that when anything offers of the kind, you will not let it escape you.” Here was a great bundle of letters brought hither, sent up from sea, from a vessel of ours that hath taken them after they had been flung over by a Dutchman; wherein, among others, the Duke of York did read the superscription of one to De Witt, thus “To the most wise, foreseeing and discreet, These, etc.;” which, I thought with myself, I could have been glad might have been duly directed to any one of them at the table, though the greatest men in this kingdom. The Duke of York, the Lord Chancellor, my Lord Duke of Albemarle, Arlington, Ashley, Peterborough, and Coventry (the best of them all for parts), I perceive they do all profess their expectation of a peace, and that suddenly, and do advise of things accordingly, and do all speak of it (and expressly, I remember, the Duke of Albemarle), saying that they hoped for it. Letters were read at the table from Tangier that Guiland is wholly lost, and that he do offer Arzill to us to deliver it to us. But Sir W. Coventry did declare his opinion that we should have nothing to do with it, and said that if Tangier were offered us now, as the King’s condition is, he would advise against the taking it; saying, that the King’s charge is too great, and must be brought down, it being, like the fire of this City, never to be mastered till you have brought it under you; and that these places abroad are but so much charge to the King, and we do rather hitherto strive to greaten them than lessen them; and then the King is forced to part with them, “as,” says he, “he did with Dunkirke, by my Lord Tiviott’s making it so chargeable to the King as he did that, and would have done Tangier, if he had lived.” I perceive he is the only man that do seek the King’s profit, and is bold to deliver what he thinks on every occasion. Having broke up here, I away with Mr. Gawden in his coach to the ’Change, and there a little, and then home and dined, and then to the office, and by and by with my wife to Whitehall (she to Unthanke’s), and there met Creed and did a little business at the Treasury chamber, and then to walk in Westminster Hall an hour or two, with much pleasure reflecting upon our discourse today at the Tangier meeting, and crying up the worth of Sir W. Coventry. Creed tells me of the fray between the Duke of Buckingham at the Duke’s playhouse the last Saturday (and it is the first day I have heard that they have acted at either the King’s or Duke’s houses this month or six weeks) and Henry Killigrew, whom the Duke of Buckingham did soundly beat and take away his sword, and make a fool of, till the fellow prayed him to spare his life; and I am glad of it; for it seems in this business the Duke of Buckingham did carry himself very innocently and well, and I wish he had paid this fellow’s coat well. I heard something of this at the ’Change today: and it is pretty to hear how people do speak kindly of the Duke of Buckingham, as one that will enquire into faults; and therefore they do mightily favour him. And it puts me in mind that, this afternoon, Billing, the Quaker, meeting me in the Hall, come to me, and after a little discourse did say, “Well,” says he, “now you will be all called to an account;” meaning the Parliament is drawing near. This done I took coach and took up my wife, and so home, and after a little at the office I home to my chamber a while, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and to the office, doing something towards our great account to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, and anon the office sat, and all the morning doing business. At noon home to dinner, and then close to my business all the afternoon. In the evening Sir R. Ford is come back from the Prince and tells Sir W. Batten and me how basely Sir W. Penn received our letter we sent him about the prizes at Hull, and slyly answered him about the Prince’s leaving all his concerns to him, but the Prince did it afterward by letter brought by Sir R. Ford to us, which Sir W. Penn knows not of, but a very rogue he is. By and by comes sudden news to me by letter from the Clerke of the Cheque at Gravesend, that there were thirty sail of Dutch men-of-war coming up into the Hope this last tide: which I told Sir W. Penn of; but he would not believe it, but laughed, and said it was a fleet of Billanders,3531 and that the guns that were heard was the salutation of the Swede’s Ambassador that comes over with them. But within half an hour comes another letter from Captain Proud,3532 that eight of them were come into the Hope, and thirty more following them, at ten this morning. By and by comes an order from Whitehall to send down one of our number to Chatham, fearing that, as they did before, they may make a show first up hither, but then go to Chatham: so my Lord Brouncker do go, and we here are ordered to give notice to the merchant men-of-war, gone below the barricado at Woolwich, to come up again. So with much trouble to supper, home and to bed.
. Betimes this morning comes a letter from the Clerke of the Cheque at Gravesend to me, to tell me that the Dutch fleet did come all into the Hope yesterday noon, and held a fight with our ships from thence till seven at night; that they had burned twelve fire-ships, and we took one of their’s, and burned five of our fire-ships. But then rising and going to Sir W. Batten, he tells me that we have burned one of their men-of-war, and another of theirs is blown up: but how true this is, I know not. But these fellows are mighty bold, and have had the fortune of the wind easterly this time to bring them up, and prevent our troubling them with our fire-ships; and, indeed, have had the winds at their command from the beginning, and now do take the beginning of the spring, as if they had some great design to do. I to my office, and there hard at work all the morning, to my great content, abstracting the contract book into my abstract book, which I have by reason of the war omitted for above two years, but now am endeavouring to have all my books ready and perfect against the Parliament comes, that upon examination I may be in condition to value myself upon my perfect doing of my own duty. At noon home to dinner, where my wife mighty musty3533 but I took no notice of it, but after dinner to the office, and there with Mr. Harper did another good piece of work about my late collection of the accounts of the Navy presented to the Parliament at their last session, which was left unfinished, and now I have done it which sets my mind at my ease, and so, having tired myself, I took a pair of oares about five o’clock, which I made a gally at Redriffe, and so with very much pleasure down to Gravesend, all the way with extraordinary content reading of Boyle’s Hydrostatics, which the more I read and understand, the more I admire, as a most excellent piece of philosophy; as we come nearer Gravesend, we hear the Dutch fleet and ours a-firing their guns most distinctly and loud. But before we got to Gravesend they ceased, and it grew darkish, and so I landed only (and the flood being come) and went up to the Ship and discoursed with the landlord of the house, who undeceives me in what I heard this morning about the Dutch having lost two men-of-war, for it is not so, but several of their fire-ships. He do say, that this afternoon they did force our ships to retreat, but that now they are gone down as far as Shield-haven:3534 but what the event hath been of this evening’s guns they know not, but suppose not much, for they have all this while shot at good distance one from another. They seem confident of the security of this town and the River above it, if the enemy should come up so high; their fortifications being so good, and guns many. But he do say that people do complain of Sir Edward Spragg, that he hath not done extraordinary; and more of Sir W. Jenings, that he come up with his tamkins3535 in his guns. Having discoursed this a little with him, and eat a bit of cold venison and drank, I away, took boat, and homeward again, with great pleasure, the moon shining, and it being a fine pleasant cool evening, and got home by half-past twelve at night, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and there sang with much pleasure with my wife, and so to the office again, and busy all the afternoon. At night Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself, and Sir R. Ford, did meet in the garden to discourse about our prizes at Hull. It appears that Hogg is the veriest rogue, the most observable embezzler, that ever was known. This vexes us, and made us very free and plain with Sir W. Penn, who hath been his great patron, and as very a rogue as he. But he do now seem to own that his opinion is changed of him, and that he will join with us in our strictest inquiries, and did sign to the letters we had drawn, which he had refused before, and so seemingly parted good friends, and then I demanded of Sir R. Ford and the rest, what passed today at the meeting of the Parliament: who told me that, contrary to all expectation by the King that there would be but a thin meeting, there met above 300 this first day, and all the discontented party; and, indeed, the whole House seems to be no other almost. The Speaker3536 told them, as soon as they were sat, that he was ordered by the King to let them know he was hindered by some important business to come to them and speak to them, as he intended; and, therefore, ordered him to move that they would adjourn themselves till Monday next, it being very plain to all the House that he expects to hear by that time of the sealing of the peace, which by letters, it seems, from my Lord Hollis, was to be sealed the last Sunday.3537 But before they would come to the question whether they would adjourn, Sir Thomas Tomkins steps up and tells them, that all the country is grieved at this new raised standing army; and that they thought themselves safe enough in their trayn-bands; and that, therefore, he desired the King might be moved to disband them. Then rises Garraway and seconds him, only with this explanation, which he said he believed the other meant; that, as soon as peace should be concluded, they might be disbanded. Then rose Sir W. Coventry, and told them that he did approve of what the last gentleman said; but also, that at the same time he did no more than what, he durst be bold to say, he knew to be the King’s mind, that as soon as peace was concluded he would do it of himself. Then rose Sir Thomas Littleton, and did give several reasons for the uncertainty of their meeting again but to adjourne, in case news comes of the peace being ended before Monday next, and the possibility of the King’s having some about him that may endeavour to alter his own, and the good part of his Council’s advice, for the keeping up of the land-army; and, therefore, it was fit that they did present it to the King as their desire, that, as soon as peace was concluded, the land-army might be laid down, and that this their request might be carried to the King by them of their House that were Privy-councillors; which was put to the vote, and carried nemine contradicente. So after this vote passed, they adjourned: but it is plain what the effects of this Parliament will be, if they be suffered to sit, that they will fall foul upon the faults of the Government; and I pray God they may be permitted to do it, for nothing else, I fear, will save the King and kingdom than the doing it betimes. They gone, I to walk with my wife in the garden, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and betimes to the office, where Mr. Hater and I together all the morning about the perfecting of my abstract book of contracts and other things to my great content. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again all the afternoon doing of other good things there, and being tired, I then abroad with my wife and left her at the New Exchange, while I by water thence to Westminster to the Hall, but shops were shut up, and so to Whitehall by water, and thence took up my wife at Unthanke’s, and so home, mightily tired with the dust in riding in a coach, it being mighty troublesome. So home and to my office, and there busy very late, and then to walk a little with my wife, and then to supper and to bed. No news at all this day what we have done to the enemy, but that the enemy is fallen down, and we after them, but to little purpose.
. Up and to the office, where I hear that Sir John Coventry3538 is come over from Bredah, a nephew, I think, of Sir W. Coventry’s: but what message he brings I know not. This morning news is come that Sir Jos. Jordan is come from Harwich, with sixteen fire-ships and four other little ships of war: and did attempt to do some execution upon the enemy, but did it without discretion, as most do say, so as that they have been able to do no good, but have lost four of their fire ships. They attempted [this], it seems, when the wind was too strong, that our grapplings could not hold: others say we come to leeward of them, but all condemn it as a foolish management. They are come to Sir Edward Spragg about Lee, and the Dutch are below at the Nore. At the office all the morning; and at noon to the ’Change, where I met Fenn; and he tells me that Sir John Coventry do bring the confirmation of the peace; but I do not find the ’Change at all glad of it, but rather the worse, they looking upon it as a peace made only to preserve the King for a time in his lusts and ease, and to sacrifice trade and his kingdoms only to his own pleasures: so that the hearts of merchants are quite down. He tells me that the King and my Lady Castlemayne are quite broke off, and she is gone away, and is with child, and swears the King shall own it; and she will have it christened in the Chapel at Whitehall so, and owned for the King’s, as other Kings have done; or she will bring it into Whitehall Gallery, and dash the brains of it out before the King’s face.3539 He tells me that the King and Court were never in the world so bad as they are now for gaming, swearing, whoring, and drinking, and the most abominable vices that ever were in the world; so that all must come to nought. He told me that Sir G. Carteret was at this end of the town; so I went to visit him in Broad Street; and there he and I together: and he is mightily pleased with my Lady Jem’s having a son; and a mighty glad man he is. He [Sir George Carteret] tells me, as to news, that the peace is now confirmed, and all that over. He says it was a very unhappy motion in the House the other day about the land-army; for, whether the King hath a mind of his own to do the thing desired or no, his doing it will be looked upon as a thing done only in fear of the Parliament. He says that the Duke of York is suspected to be the great man that is for raising of this army, and bringing things to be commanded by an army; but he believes that he is wronged, and says that he do know that he is wronged therein. He do say that the Court is in a way to ruin all for their pleasures; and says that he himself hath once taken the liberty to tell the King the necessity of having, at least, a show of religion in the Government, and sobriety; and that it was that, that did set up and keep up Oliver, though he was the greatest rogue in the world, and that it is so fixed in the nature of the common Englishman that it will not out of him. He tells me that while all should be labouring to settle the kingdom, they are at Court all in factions, some for and others against my Lord Chancellor, and another for and against another man, and the King adheres to no man, but this day delivers himself up to this, and the next to that, to the ruin of himself and business; that he is at the command of any woman like a slave, though he be the best man to the Queen in the world, with so much respect, and never lies a night from her: but yet cannot command himself in the presence of a woman he likes. Having had this discourse, I parted, and home to dinner, and thence to the office all the afternoon to my great content very busy. It raining this day all day to our great joy, it having not rained, I think, this month before, so as the ground was everywhere so burned and dry as could be; and no travelling in the road or streets in London, for dust. At night late home to supper and to bed.
. Up and to my chamber, where all the morning close, to draw up a letter to Sir W. Coventry upon the tidings of peace, taking occasion, before I am forced to it, to resign up to his Royal Highness my place of the Victualling, and to recommend myself to him by promise of doing my utmost to improve this peace in the best manner we may, to save the kingdom from ruin. By noon I had done this to my good content, and then with my wife all alone to dinner, and so to my chamber all the afternoon to write my letter fair, and sent it away, and then to talk with my wife, and read, and so by daylight (the only time I think I have done it this year) to supper, and then to my chamber to read and so to bed, my mind very much eased after what I have done today.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to St. James’s, to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber; where, among other things, he come to me, and told me that he had received my yesterday’s letters, and that we concurred very well in our notions; and that, as to my place which I had offered to resign of the Victualling, he had drawn up a letter at the same time for the Duke of York’s signing for the like places in general raised during this war; and that he had done me right to the Duke of York, to let him know that I had, of my own accord, offered to resign mine. The letter do bid us to do all things, particularizing several, for the laying up of the ships, and easing the King of charge; so that the war is now professedly over. By and by up to the Duke of York’s chamber; and there all the talk was about Jordan’s3540 coming with so much indiscretion, with his four little frigates and sixteen fire-ships from Harwich, to annoy the enemy. His failures were of several sorts, I know not which the truest: that he come with so strong a gale of wind, that his grapplings would not hold; that he did come by their lee; whereas if he had come athwart their hawse, they would have held; that they did not stop a tide, and come up with a windward tide, and then they would not have come so fast. Now, there happened to be Captain Jenifer3541 by, who commanded the Lily in this business, and thus says that, finding the Dutch not so many as they expected, they did not know but that there were more of them above, and so were not so earnest to the setting upon these; that they did do what they could to make the fire-ships fall in among the enemy; and, for their lives, neither Sir J. Jordan nor others could, by shooting several times at them, make them go in; and it seems they were commanded by some idle fellows, such as they could of a sudden gather up at Harwich; which is a sad consideration that, at such a time as this, where the saving the reputation of the whole nation lay at stake, and after so long a war, the King had not credit to gather a few able men to command these vessels. He says, that if they had come up slower, the enemy would, with their boats and their great sloops, which they have to row with a great many men, they would, and did, come and cut up several of our fireships, and would certainly have taken most of them, for they do come with a great provision of these boats on purpose, and to save their men, which is bravely done of them, though they did, on this very occasion, show great fear, as they say, by some men leaping overboard out of a great ship, as these were all of them of sixty and seventy guns apiece, which one of our fireships laid on board, though the fire did not take. But yet it is brave to see what care they do take to encourage their men to provide great stores of boats to save them, while we have not credit to find one boat for a ship. And, further, he told us that this new way used by Deane, and this Sir W. Coventry observed several times, of preparing of fire-ships, do not do the work; for the fire, not being strong and quick enough to flame up, so as to take the rigging and sails, lies smothering a great while, half an hour before it flames, in which time they can get her off safely, though, which is uncertain, and did fail in one or two this bout, it do serve to burn our own ships. But what a shame it is to consider how two of our ships’ companies did desert their ships for fear of being taken by their boats, our little frigates being forced to leave them, being chased by their greater! And one more company did set their ship on fire, and leave her; which afterwards a Feversham fisherman come up to, and put out the fire, and carried safe into Feversham, where she now is, which was observed by the Duke of York, and all the company with him, that it was only want of courage, and a general dismay and abjectness of spirit upon all our men; and others did observe our ill management, and God Almighty’s curse upon all that we have in hand, for never such an opportunity was of destroying so many good ships of theirs as we now had. But to see how negligent we were in this business, that our fleet of Jordan’s should not have any notice where Spragg was, nor Spragg of Jordan’s, so as to be able to meet and join in the business, and help one another; but Jordan, when he saw Spragg’s fleet above, did think them to be another part of the enemy’s fleet! While, on the other side, notwithstanding our people at Court made such a secret of Jordan’s design that nobody must know it, and even this Office itself must not know it; nor for my part I did not, though Sir W. Batten says by others’ discourse to him he had heard something of it; yet De Ruyter, or he that commanded this fleet, had notice of it, and told it to a fisherman of ours that he took and released on Thursday last, which was the day before our fleet came to him. But then, that, that seems most to our disgrace, and which the Duke of York did take special and vehement notice of, is, that when the Dutch saw so many fire-ships provided for them, themselves lying, I think, about the Nore, they did with all their great ships, with a Northeast wind, as I take it they said, but whatever it was, it was a wind that we should not have done it with, turn down to the Middle-ground; which the Duke of York observed, never was nor would have been undertaken by ourselves. And whereas some of the company answered, it was their great fear, not their choice that made them do it, the Duke of York answered, that it was, it may be, their fear and wisdom that made them do it; but yet their fear did not make them mistake, as we should have done, when we have had no fear upon us, and have run our ships on ground. And this brought it into my mind, that they managed their retreat down this difficult passage, with all their fear, better than we could do ourselves in the main sea, when the Duke of Albemarle run away from the Dutch, when the Prince was lost, and the Royal Charles and the other great ships come on ground upon the Galloper. Thus, in all things, in wisdom, courage, force, knowledge of our own streams, and success, the Dutch have the best of us, and do end the war with victory on their side. The Duke of York being ready, we into his closet, but, being in haste to go to the Parliament House, he could not stay. So we parted, and to Westminster Hall, where the Hall full of people to see the issue of the day, the King being come to speak to the House today. One thing extraordinary was, this day a man, a Quaker,3542 came naked through the Hall, only very civilly tied about the privities to avoid scandal, and with a chafing-dish of fire and brimstone burning upon his head, did pass through the Hall, crying, “Repent! repent!” I up to the Painted Chamber, thinking to have got in to have heard the King’s speech, but upon second thoughts did not think it would be worth the crowd, and so went down again into the Hall and there walked with several, among others my Lord Rutherford, who is come out of Scotland, and I hope I may get some advantage by it in reference to the business of the interest of the great sum of money I paid him long since without interest. But I did not now move him in it. But presently comes down the House of Commons, the King having made then a very short and no pleasing speech to them at all, not at all giving them thanks for their readiness to come up to town at this busy time; but told them that he did think he should have had occasion for them, but had none, and therefore did dismiss them to look after their own occasions till October; and that he did wonder any should offer to bring in a suspicion that he intended to rule by an army, or otherwise than by the laws of the land, which he promised them he would do; and so bade them go home and settle the minds of the country in that particular; and only added, that he had made a peace which he did believe they would find reasonable, and a good peace, but did give them none of the particulars thereof. Thus they are dismissed again to their general great distaste, I believe the greatest that ever Parliament was, to see themselves so fooled, and the nation in certain condition of ruin, while the King, they see, is only governed by his lust, and women, and rogues about him. The Speaker, they found, was kept from coming in the morning to the House on purpose, till after the King was come to the House of Lords, for fear they should be doing anything in the House of Commons to the further dissatisfaction of the King and his courtiers. They do all give up the kingdom for lost that I speak to; and do hear what the King says, how he and the Duke of York do do what they can to get up an army, that they may need no more Parliaments: and how my Lady Castlemayne hath, before the late breach between her and the King, said to the King that he must rule by an army, or all would be lost, and that Bab. May hath given the like advice to the King, to crush the English gentlemen, saying that £300 a-year was enough for any man but them that lived at Court. I am told that many petitions were provided for the Parliament, complaining of the wrongs they have received from the Court and courtiers, in city and country, if the Parliament had but sat: and I do perceive they all do resolve to have a good account of the money spent before ever they give a farthing more: and the whole kingdom is everywhere sensible of their being abused, insomuch that they forced their Parliament-men to come up to sit; and my cousin Roger told me that (but that was in mirth) he believed, if he had not come up, he should have had his house burned. The kingdom never in so troubled a condition in this world as now; nobody pleased with the peace, and yet nobody daring to wish for the continuance of the war, it being plain that nothing do nor can thrive under us. Here I saw old good Mr. Vaughan,3543 and several of the great men of the Commons, and some of them old men, that are come 200 miles, and more, to attend this session of Parliament; and have been at great charge and disappointments in their other private business; and now all to no purpose, neither to serve their country, content themselves, nor receive any thanks from the King. It is verily expected by many of them that the King will continue the prorogation in October, so as, if it be possible, never to have [this] Parliament more. My Lord Bristoll took his place in the House of Lords this day, but not in his robes; and when the King come in, he withdrew but my Lord of Buckingham was there as brisk as ever, and sat in his robes; which is a monstrous thing, that a man proclaimed against, and put in the Tower, and all, and released without any trial, and yet not restored to his places: But, above all, I saw my Lord Mordaunt as merry as the best, that it seems hath done such further indignities to Mr. Taylor3544 since the last sitting of Parliament as would hang [him], if there were nothing else, would the King do what were fit for him; but nothing of that is now likely to be. After having spent an hour or two in the hall, my cousin Roger and I and Creed to the Old Exchange, where I find all the merchants sad at this peace and breaking up of the Parliament, as men despairing of any good to the nation, which is a grievous consideration; and so home, and there cousin Roger and Creed to dinner with me, and very merry: but among other things they told me of the strange, bold sermon of Dr. Creeton yesterday, before the King; how he preached against the sins of the Court, and particularly against adultery, over and over instancing how for that single sin in David, the whole nation was undone; and of our negligence in having our castles without ammunition and powder when the Dutch come upon us; and how we have no courage now a-days, but let our ships be taken out of our harbour. Here Creed did tell us the story of the duell last night, in Covent-garden, between Sir H. Bellasses and Tom Porter. It is worth remembering the silliness of the quarrell, and is a kind of emblem of the general complexion of this whole kingdom at present. They two it seems dined yesterday at Sir Robert Carr’s,3545 where it seems people do drink high, all that come. It happened that these two, the greatest friends in the world, were talking together: and Sir H. Bellasses talked a little louder than ordinary to Tom Porter, giving of him some advice. Some of the company standing by said, “What! are they quarrelling, that they talk so high?” Sir H. Bellasses hearing it, said, “No!” says he: “I would have you know that I never quarrel, but I strike; and take that as a rule of mine!”—“How?” says Tom Porter, “strike! I would I could see the man in England that durst give me a blow!” with that Sir H. Bellasses did give him a box of the ear; and so they were going to fight there, but were hindered. And by and by Tom Porter went out; and meeting Dryden the poet, told him of the business, and that he was resolved to fight Sir H. Bellasses presently; for he knew, if he did not, they should be made friends tomorrow, and then the blow would rest upon him; which he would prevent, and desired Dryden to let him have his boy to bring him notice which way Sir H. Bellasses goes. By and by he is informed that Sir H. Bellasses’s coach was coming: so Tom Porter went down out of the Coffeehouse where he stayed for the tidings, and stopped the coach, and bade Sir H. Bellasses come out. “Why,” says H. Bellasses, “you will not hurt me coming out, will you?”—“No,” says Tom Porter. So out he went, and both drew: and H. Bellasses having drawn and flung away his scabbard, Tom Porter asked him whether he was ready? The other answering him he was, they fell to fight, some of their acquaintance by. They wounded one another, and H. Bellasses so much that it is feared he will die: and finding himself severely wounded, he called to Tom Porter, and kissed him, and bade him shift for himself; “for,” says he, “Tom, thou hast hurt me; but I will make shift to stand upon my legs till thou mayest withdraw, and the world not take notice of you, for I would not have thee troubled for what thou hast done.” And so whether he did fly or no I cannot tell: but Tom Porter showed H. Bellasses that he was wounded too: and they are both ill, but H. Bellasses to fear of life. And this is a fine example; and H. Bellasses a Parliament-man,3546 too, and both of them most extraordinary friends! Among other discourse, my cousin Roger told us a thing certain, that the Archbishop of Canterbury,3547 that now is, do keep a wench, and that he is as very a wencher as can be; and tells us it is a thing publicly known that Sir Charles Sidley had got away one of the Archbishop’s wenches from him, and the Archbishop sent to him to let him know that she was his kinswoman, and did wonder that he would offer any dishonour to one related to him. To which Sir Charles Sidley is said to answer, “A pox take his Grace! pray tell his Grace that I believe he finds himself too old, and is afraid that I should outdo him among his girls, and spoil his trade.” But he makes no more of doubt to say that the Archbishop is a wencher, and known to be so, which is one of the most astonishing things that I have heard of, unless it be, what for certain he says is true, that my Lady Castlemayne hath made a Bishop lately, namely—her uncle, Dr. Glenham,3548 who, I think they say, is Bishop of Carlisle; a drunken, swearing rascal, and a scandal to the Church; and do now pretend to be Bishop of Lincoln,3549 in competition with Dr. Raynbow,3550 who is reckoned as worthy a man as most in the Church for piety and learning: which are things so scandalous to consider, that no man can doubt but we must be undone that hears of them. After dinner comes W. How and a son of Mr. Pagett’s to see me, with whom I drank, but could not stay, and so by coach with cousin Roger (who before his going did acquaint me in private with an offer made of his marrying of Mrs. Elizabeth Wiles, whom I know; a kinswoman of Mr. Honiwood’s, an ugly old maid, but a good housewife; and is said to have £2,500 to her portion; but if I can find that she hath but £2,000, which he prays me to examine, he says he will have her, she being one he hath long known intimately, and a good housewife, and discreet woman; though I am against it in my heart, she being not handsome at all: and it hath been the very bad fortune of the Pepyses that ever I knew, never to marry an handsome woman, excepting Ned Pepys)3551 and Creed, set the former down at the Temple resolving to go to Cambridge tomorrow, and Creed and I to Whitehall to the Treasury chamber there to attend, but in vain, only here, looking out of the window into the garden, I saw the King (whom I have not had any desire to see since the Dutch come upon the coast first to Sheerness, for shame that I should see him, or he me, methinks, after such a dishonour) come upon the garden; with him two or three idle Lords; and instantly after him, in another walk, my Lady Castlemayne, led by Bab. May: at which I was surprised, having but newly heard the stories of the King and her being parted forever. So I took Mr. Povy, who was there, aside, and he told me all, how imperious this woman is, and hectors the King to whatever she will. It seems she is with child, and the King says he did not get it: with that she made a slighting “puh” with her mouth, and went out of the house, and never come in again till the King went to Sir Daniel Harvy’s to pray her; and so she is come today, when one would think his mind should be full of some other cares, having but this morning broken up such a Parliament, with so much discontent, and so many wants upon him, and but yesterday heard such a sermon against adultery. But it seems she hath told the King, that whoever did get it, he should own it; and the bottom of the quarrel is this:—She is fallen in love with young Jermin3552 who hath of late lain with her oftener than the King, and is now going to marry my Lady Falmouth;3553 the King he is mad at her entertaining Jermin, and she is mad at Jermin’s going to marry from her: so they are all mad; and thus the kingdom is governed! and they say it is labouring to make breaches between the Duke of Richmond and his lady that the King may get her to him. But he tells me for certain that nothing is more sure than that the King, and Duke of York, and the Chancellor, are desirous and labouring all they can to get an army, whatever the King says to the Parliament; and he believes that they are at last resolved to stand and fall all three together: so that he says match of the Duke of York with the Chancellor’s daughter hath undone the nation. He tells me also that the King hath not greater enemies in the world than those of his own family; for there is not an officer in the house almost but curses him for letting them starve, and there is not a farthing of money to be raised for the buying them bread. Having done talking with him I to Westminster Hall, and there talked and wandered up and down till the evening to no purpose, there and to the Swan, and so till the evening, and so home, and there to walk in the garden with my wife, telling her of my losing £300 a year by my place that I am to part with, which do a little trouble me, but we must live with somewhat more thrift, and so home to supper and to play on the flageolet, which do do very prettily, and so to bed. Many guns were heard this afternoon, it seems, at Whitehall and in the Temple garden very plain; but what it should be nobody knows, unless the Dutch be driving our ships up the river. Tomorrow we shall know.
. Up and to the office, where we sat busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Daniel and his wife with us, come to see whether I could get him any employment. But I am so far from it, that I have the trouble upon my mind how to dispose of Mr. Gibson and one or two more I am concerned for in the Victualling business, which are to be now discharged. After dinner by coach to Whitehall, calling on two or three tradesmen and paying their bills, and so to Whitehall, to the Treasury-chamber, where I did speak with the Lords, and did my business about getting them to assent to 10 percent interest on the 11 months tax, but find them mightily put to it for money. Here I do hear that there are three Lords more to be added to them; my Lord Bridgewater,3554 my Lord Anglesey, and my Lord Chamberlaine.3555 Having done my business, I to Creed’s chamber, and thence out with Creed to Whitehall with him; in our way, meeting with Mr. Cooling, my Lord Chamberlain’s secretary, on horseback, who stopped to speak with us, and he proved very drunk, and did talk, and would have talked all night with us, I not being able to break loose from him, he holding me so by the hand. But, Lord! to see his present humour, how he swears at every word, and talks of the King and my Lady Castlemayne in the plainest words in the world. And from him I gather that the story I learned yesterday is true—that the King hath declared that he did not get the child of which she is conceived at this time, he having not as he says lain with her this half year. But she told him, “God damn me, but you shall own it!”3556 It seems, he is jealous of Jermin, and she loves him so, that the thoughts of his marrying of my Lady Falmouth puts her into fits of the mother; and he, it seems, hath lain with her from time to time, continually, for a good while; and once, as this Cooling says, the King had like to have taken him abed with her, but that he was fain to creep under the bed into her closet. … But it is a pretty thing he told us how the King, once speaking of the Duke of York’s being mastered by his wife, said to some of the company by, that he would go no more abroad with this Tom Otter3557 (meaning the Duke of York) and his wife. Tom Killigrew, being by, answered, “Sir,” says he, “pray which is the best for a man, to be a Tom Otter to his wife or to his mistress?” meaning the King’s being so to my Lady Castlemayne. Thus he went on; and speaking then of my Lord Sandwich, whom he professed to love exceedingly, says Creed, “I know not what, but he is a man, methinks, that I could love for himself, without other regards.” … He talked very lewdly; and then took notice of my kindness to him on shipboard seven years ago, when the King was coming over, and how much he was obliged to me; but says, pray look upon this acknowledgement of a kindness in me to be a miracle; for, says he, “it is against the law at Court for a man that borrows money of me, even to buy his place with, to own it the next Sunday;” and then told us his horse was a bribe, and his boots a bribe; and told us he was made up of bribes, as an Oxford scholar is set out with other men’s goods when he goes out of town, and that he makes every sort of tradesman to bribe him; and invited me home to his house, to taste of his bribe wine. I never heard so much vanity from a man in my life; so, being now weary of him, we parted, and I took coach, and carried Creed to the Temple. There set him down, and to my office, where busy late till my eyes begun to ache, and then home to supper: a pullet, with good sauce, to my liking, and then to play on the flageolet with my wife, which she now does very prettily, and so to bed.
. Up, and after some time with Greeting upon my flageolet I to my office, and there all the morning busy. Among other things, Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself did examine a fellow of our private man-of-war, who we have found come up from Hull, with near £500 worth of pieces of eight, though he will confess but 100 pieces. But it appears that there have been fine doings there. At noon dined at home, and then to the office, where busy again till the evening, when Major Halsey and Kinaston to adjust matters about Mrs. Rumbald’s bill of exchange, and here Major Halsey, speaking much of my doing business, and understanding business, told me how my Lord General do say that I am worth them all, but I have heard that Halsey hath said the same behind my back to others. Then abroad with my wife by coach to Marrowbone,3558 where my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, it seem, dined today: and were just now going away, methought, in a disconsolate condition, compared with their splendour they formerly had, when the City was standing. Here my wife and I drank at the gate, not ’lighting, and then home with much pleasure, and so to my chamber, and my wife and I to pipe, and so to supper and to bed.
August 1667
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon my wife and I dined at Sir W. Penn’s, only with Mrs. Turner and her husband, on a damned venison pasty, that stunk like a devil. However, I did not know it till dinner was done. We had nothing but only this, and a leg of mutton, and a pullet or two. Mrs. Markham was here, with her great belly. I was very merry, and after dinner, upon a motion of the women, I was got to go to the play with them—the first I have seen since before the Dutch coming upon our coast, and so to the King’s house, to see The Custome of the Country. The house mighty empty—more than ever I saw it—and an ill play. After the play, we into the house, and spoke with Knipp, who went abroad with us by coach to the Neat Houses3559 in the way to Chelsy; and there, in a box in a tree,3560 we sat and sang, and talked and eat; my wife out of humour, as she always is, when this woman is by. So, after it was dark, we home. Set Knepp down at home, who told us the story how Nell is gone from the King’s house, and is kept by my Lord Buckhurst. Then we home, the gates of the City shut, it being so late: and at Newgate we find them in trouble, some thieves having this night broke open prison. So we through, and home; and our coachman was fain to drive hard from two or three fellows, which he said were rogues, that he met at the end of Blow-bladder Street, next Cheapside. So set Mrs. Turner home, and then we home, and I to the Office a little; and so home and to bed, my wife in an ill humour still.
. Up, but before I rose my wife fell into angry discourse of my kindness yesterday to Mrs. Knipp, and leading her, and sitting in the coach hand in hand, and my arm about her middle, and in some bad words reproached me with it. I was troubled, but having much business in my head and desirous of peace rose and did not provoke her. So she up and come to me and added more, and spoke basely of my father, who I perceive did do something in the country, at her last being there, that did not like her, but I would not enquire into anything, but let her talk, and when ready away to the Office I went, where all the morning I was, only Mr. Gawden come to me, and he and I home to my chamber, and there reckoned, and there I received my profits for Tangier of him, and £250 on my victualling score. He is a most noble-minded man as ever I met with, and seems to own himself much obliged to me, which I will labour to make him; for he is a good man also: we talked on many good things relating to the King’s service, and, in fine, I had much matter of joy by this morning’s work, receiving above £400 of him, on one account or other; and a promise that, though I lay down my victualling place, yet, as long as he continues victualler, I shall be the better by him. To the office again, and there evened all our business with Mr. Kinaston about Colonel Norwood’s Bill of Exchange from Tangier, and I am glad of it, for though he be a good man, yet his importunity tries me. So home to dinner, where Mr. Hater with me and W. Hewer, because of their being in the way after dinner, and so to the office after dinner, where and with my Lord Brouncker at his lodgings all the afternoon and evening making up our great account for the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, but not so as pleased me yet. So at 12 at night home to supper and to bed, my wife being gone in an ill humour to bed before me. This noon my wife comes to me alone, and tells me she had those upon her and bid me remember it. I asked her why, and she said she had a reason. I do think by something too she said today, that she took notice that I had not lain with her this half-year, that she thinks that I have some doubt that she might be with child by somebody else. Which God knows never entered into my head, or whether my father observed anything at Brampton with Coleman I know not. But I do not do well to let these beginnings of discontents take so much root between us.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. Then at noon to dinner, and to the office again, there to enable myself, by finishing our great account, to give it to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury; which I did, and there was called in to them, to tell them only the total of our debt of the Navy on the 25th of May last, which is above £950,000. Here I find them mighty hot in their answer to the Council-board about our Treasurer’s threepences of the Victualling, and also against the present farm of the Customes, which they do most highly inveigh against. So home again by coach, and there hard to work till very late and my eyes began to fail me, which now upon very little overworking them they do, which grieves me much. Late home, to supper, and to bed.
. Busy at my Office from morning till night, in writing with my own hand fair our large general account of the expense and debt of the Navy, which lasted me till night to do, that I was almost blind, and Mr. Gibson with me all day long, and dined with me, and excellent discourse I had with him, he understanding all the business of the Navy most admirably. To walk a little with my wife at night in the garden, it being very hot weather again, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir W. Batten in the morning to St. James’s, where we did our ordinary business with the Duke of York, where I perceive they have taken the highest resolution in the world to become good husbands, and to retrench all charge; and to that end we are commanded to give him an account of the establishment in the seventh year of the late King’s reign, and how offices and salaries have been increased since; and I hope it will end in the taking away some of our Commissioners, though it may be to the lessening of some of our salaries also. After done with the Duke of York, and coming out through his dressing-room, I there spied Signor Francisco3561 tuning his guitar, and Monsieur de Puy with him, who did make him play to me, which he did most admirably—so well as I was mightily troubled that all that pains should have been taken upon so bad an instrument. Walked over the Park with Mr. Gawden, end with him by coach home, and to the Exchange, where I hear the ill news of our loss lately of four rich ships, two from Guinea, one from Gallipoly, all with rich oils; and the other from Barbados, worth, as is guessed, £80,000. But here is strong talk, as if Harman had taken some of the Dutch East India ships, but I dare not yet believe it, and brought them into Lisbon.3562 Home, and dined with my wife at Sir W. Penn’s, where a very good pasty of venison, better than we expected, the last stinking basely, and after dinner he and my wife and I to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw Love Trickes, or the School of Compliments;3563 a silly play, only Miss [Davis’s] dancing in a shepherd’s clothes did please us mightily. Thence without much pleasure home and to my Office, so home, to supper, and to bed. My wife mighty angry with Nell, who is turned a very gossip, and gads abroad as soon as our backs are turned, and will put her away tomorrow, which I am not sorry for.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning very full of business. A full Board. Here, talking of news, my Lord Anglesey did tell us that the Dutch do make a further bogle with us about two or three things, which they will be satisfied in, he says, by us easily; but only in one, it seems, they do demand that we shall not interrupt their East Indiamen coming home, and of which they are in some fear; and we are full of hopes that we have ’light upon some of them, and carried them into Lisbon, by Harman; which God send! But they, which do show the low esteem they have of us, have the confidence to demand that we shall have a cessation on our parts, and yet they at liberty to take what they will; which is such an affront, as another cannot be devised greater. At noon home to dinner, where I find Mrs. Wood, formerly Bab. Shelden, and our Mercer, who is dressed today in a paysan dress, that looks mighty pretty. We dined and sang and laughed mighty merry, and then I to the Office, only met at the door with Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Burroughs, who I took in and drank with, but was afraid my wife should see them, they being, especially the first, a prattling gossip, and so after drinking with them parted, and I to the Office, busy as long as my poor eyes would endure, which troubles me mightily and then into the garden with my wife, and to Sir W. Batten’s with [Sir] W. Penn and [Sir] J. Minnes, and there eat a melon and talked, and so home to supper and to bed. My wife, as she said last night, hath put away Nell today, for her gossiping abroad and telling of stories. Sir W. Batten did tell me tonight that the Council have ordered a hearing before them of Carcasse’s business, which do vex me mightily, that we should be troubled so much by an idle rogue, a servant of our own, and all my thoughts tonight have been how to manage the matter before the Council.
. Up, and at the office very busy, and did much business all the morning. My wife abroad with her maid Jane and Tom all the afternoon, being gone forth to eat some pasties at “The Bottle of Hay,” in St. John’s Street, as you go to Islington, of which she is mighty fond, and I dined at home alone, and at the office close all the afternoon, doing much business to my great content. This afternoon Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, comes to me about business, and tells me that though the King and my Lady Castlemayne are friends again, she is not at Whitehall, but at Sir D. Harvy’s, whither the King goes to her; and he says she made him ask her forgiveness upon his knees, and promised to offend her no more so: that, indeed, she did threaten to bring all his bastards to his closet-door, and hath nearly hectored him out of his wits. I at my office till night, and then home to my pipe, my wife not coming home, which vexed me. I then into the garden, and there walked alone in the garden till 10 at night, when she come home, having been upon the water and could not get home sooner. So to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, where busy, and at noon home to dinner, where Creed dined with us, who tells me that Sir Henry Bellasses is dead of the duell he fought about ten days ago, with Tom Porter; and it is pretty to see how the world talk of them as a couple of fools, that killed one another out of love. After dinner to the office a while, and then with my wife to the Temple, where I light and sent her to her tailor’s. I to my bookseller’s; where, by and by, I met Mr. Evelyn, and talked of several things, but particularly of the times: and he tells me that wise men do prepare to remove abroad what they have, for that we must be ruined, our case being past relief, the kingdom so much in debt, and the King minding nothing but his lust, going two days a-week to see my Lady Castlemayne at Sir D. Harvy’s. He gone, I met with Mr. Moore, who tells me that my Lord Hinchingbroke is now with his mistress, but not that he is married, as W. Howe come and told us the other day. So by coach to Whitehall, and there stayed a little, thinking to see Sir G. Carteret, but missed him, and so by coach took up my wife, and so home, and as far as Bow, where we stayed and drank, and there, passing by Mr. Lowther and his lady, they stopped and we talked a little with them, they being in their gilt coach, and so parted; and presently come to us Mr. Andrews, whom I had not seen a good while, who, as other merchants do, do all give over any hopes of things doing well, and so he spends his time here most, playing at bowls. After dining together at the coach-side, we with great pleasure home, and so to the office, where I despatched my business, and home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and betimes with Sir H. Cholmly upon some accounts of Tangier, and then he and I to Westminster, to Mr. Burges, and then walked in the Hall, and he and I talked, and he do really declare that he expects that of necessity this kingdom will fall back again to a commonwealth, and other wise men are of the same mind: this family doing all that silly men can do, to make themselves unable to support their kingdom, minding their lust and their pleasure, and making their government so chargeable, that people do well remember better things were done, and better managed, and with much less charge under a commonwealth than they have been by this King, and do seem to resolve to wind up his businesses and get money in his hand against the turn do come. After some talk I by coach and there dined, and with us Mr. Batelier by chance coming in to speak with me, and when I come home, and find Mr. Goodgroome, my wife’s singing-master, there I did soundly rattle him for neglecting her so much as he hath done—she not having learned three songs these three months and more. After dinner my wife abroad with Mrs. Turner, and I to the office, where busy all the afternoon, and in the evening by coach to St. James’s, and there met Sir W. Coventry; and he and I walked in the Park an hour. And then to his chamber, where he read to me the heads of the late great dispute between him and the rest of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and our new Treasurer of the Navy where they have overthrown him the last Wednesday, in the great dispute touching his having the payment of the Victualler, which is now settled by Council that he is not to have it and, indeed, they have been most just, as well as most severe and bold, in the doing this against a man of his quality; but I perceive he do really make no difference between any man. He tells me this day it is supposed the peace is ratified at Bredah,3564 and all that matter over. We did talk of many retrenchments of charge of the Navy which he will put in practice, and everywhere else; though, he tells me, he despairs of being able to do what ought to be done for the saving of the kingdom, which I tell him, as indeed all the world is almost in hopes of, upon the proceeding of these gentlemen for the regulating of the Treasury, it being so late, and our poverty grown so great, that they want where to set their feet, to begin to do anything. He tells me how weary he hath for this year and a half been of the war; and how in the Duke of York’s bedchamber, at Christ Church, at Oxford, when the Court was there, he did labour to persuade the Duke to fling off the care of the Navy, and get it committed to other hands; which, if he had done, would have been much to his honour, being just come home with so much honour from sea as he did. I took notice of the sharp letter he wrote, which he sent us to read yesterday, to Sir Edward Spragg,3565 where he is very plain about his leaving his charge of the ships at Gravesend, when the enemy come last up, and several other things: a copy whereof I have kept. But it is done like a most worthy man; and he says it is good, now and then, to tell these gentlemen their duties, for they need it. And it seems, as he tells me, all our Knights are fallen out one with another, he, and Jenings, and Hollis, and (his words were) they are disputing which is the coward among them; and yet men that take the greatest liberty of censuring others! Here, with him, very late, till I could hardly get a coach or link willing to go through the ruines; but I do, but will not do it again, being, indeed, very dangerous. So home and to supper, and bed, my head most full of an answer I have drawn this noon to the Committee of the Council to whom Carcasse’s business is referred to be examined again.
. Up, and to the Office, and there finished the letter about Carcasse, and sent it away, I think well writ, though it troubles me we should be put to trouble by this rogue so much. At the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where I sang and piped with my wife with great pleasure, and did hire a coach to carry us to Barnett tomorrow. After dinner I to the office, and there wrote as long as my eyes would give me leave, and then abroad and to the New Exchange, to the bookseller’s3566 there, where I hear of several new books coming out—Mr. Spratt’s History of the Royal Society,3567 and Mrs. Phillips’s3568 poems. Sir John Denham’s poems are going to be all printed together; and, among others, some new things; and among them he showed me a copy of verses of his upon Sir John Minnes’s going heretofore to Bologne to eat a pig.3569 Cowley, he tells me, is dead; who, it seems, was a mighty civil, serious man; which I did not know before.3570 Several good plays are likely to be abroad soon, as Mustapha and Henry the 5th. Here having stayed and divertised myself a good while, I home again and to finish my letters by the post, and so home, and betimes to bed with my wife because of rising betimes tomorrow.
. Up by four o’clock, and ready with Mrs. Turner to take coach before five; which we did, and set on our journey, and got to the Wells at Barnett by seven o’clock, and there found many people a-drinking; but the morning is a very cold morning, so as we were very cold all the way in the coach. Here we met Joseph Batelier, and I talked with him, and here was W. Hewer also, and his uncle Steventon: so, after drinking three glasses and the women nothing, we back by coach to Barnett, where to the Red Lion, where we ’light, and went up into the great Room, and there drank, and eat some of the best cheesecakes that ever I eat in my life, and so took coach again, and W. Hewer on horseback with us, and so to Hatfield, to the inn, next my Lord Salisbury’s house, and there rested ourselves, and drank, and bespoke dinner; and so to church, it being just church-time, and there we find my Lord and my Lady Sands3571 and several fine ladies of the family, and a great many handsome faces and genteel persons more in the church, and did hear a most excellent good sermon, which pleased me mightily, and very devout; it being upon, the signs of saving grace, where it is in a man, and one sign, which held him all this day, was, that where that grace was, there is also the grace of prayer, which he did handle very finely. In this church lies the former Lord of Salisbury, Cecil,3572 buried in a noble tomb. So the church being done, we to our inn, and there dined very well, and mighty merry; and as soon as we had dined we walked out into the Park through the fine walk of trees, and to the Vineyard, and there showed them that, which is in good order, and indeed a place of great delight; which, together with our fine walk through the Park, was of as much pleasure as could be desired in the world for country pleasure and good air. Being come back, and weary with the walk, for as I made it, it was pretty long, being come back to our inne, there the women had pleasure in putting on some straw hats, which are much worn in this country, and did become them mightily, but especially my wife. So, after resting awhile, we took coach again, and back to Barnett, where W. Hewer took us into his lodging, which is very handsome, and there did treat us very highly with cheesecakes, cream, tarts, and other good things; and then walked into the garden, which was pretty, and there filled my pockets full of filberts, and so with much pleasure. Among other things, I met in this house with a printed book of the Life of O. Cromwell,3573 to his honour as a soldier and politician, though as a rebel, the first of that kind that ever I saw, and it is well done. Took coach again, and got home with great content, just at day shutting in, and so as soon as home eat a little and then to bed, with exceeding great content at our day’s work.
. My wife waked betimes to call up her maids to washing, and so to bed again, whom I then hugged, it being cold now in the mornings. … Up by and by, and with Mr. Gawden by coach to St. James’s, where we find the Duke gone a-hunting with the King, but found Sir W. Coventry within, with whom we discoursed, and he did largely discourse with us about our speedy falling upon considering of retrenchments in the expense of the Navy, which I will put forward as much as I can. So having done there I to Westminster Hall to Burges, and then walked to the New Exchange, and there to my bookseller’s, and did buy Scott’s Discourse of Witches;3574 and do hear Mr. Cowley mightily lamented his death, by Dr. Ward, the Bishop of Winchester,3575 and Dr. Bates,3576 who were standing there, as the best poet of our nation, and as good a man. Thence I to the printseller’s, over against the Exchange towards Covent Garden, and there bought a few more prints of cities, and so home with them, and my wife and maids being gone over the water to the whitster’s3577 with their clothes, this being the first time of her trying this way of washing her linen, I dined at Sir W. Batten’s, and after dinner, all alone to the King’s playhouse, and there did happen to sit just before Mrs. Pierce, and Mrs. Knepp, who pulled me by the hair; and so I addressed myself to them, and talked to them all the intervals of the play, and did give them fruit. The play is Brenoralt, which I do find but little in, for my part. Here was many fine ladies—among others, the German Baron, with his lady, who is envoyé from the Emperour, and their fine daughter, which hath travelled all Europe over with them, it seems; and is accordingly accomplished, and indeed, is a wonderful pretty woman. Here Sir Philip Frowde,3578 who sat next to me, did tell me how Sir H. Belasses is dead, and that the quarrel between him and Tom Porter, who is fled, did arise in the ridiculous fashion that I was first told it, which is a strange thing between two so good friends. The play being done, I took the women, and Mrs. Corbett, who was with them, by coach, it raining, to Mrs. Manuel’s, the Jew’s wife, formerly a player, who we heard sing with one of the Italians that was there; and, indeed, she sings mightily well; and just after the Italian manner, but yet do not please me like one of Mrs. Knepp’s songs, to a good English tune, the manner of their air not pleasing me so well as the fashion of our own, nor so natural. Here I sat a little and then left them, and then by coach home, and my wife not come home, so the office a little and then home, and my wife come; and so, saying nothing where I had been, we to supper and pipe, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner all alone, my wife being again at the whitster’s. After dinner with Sir W. Penn to St. James’s, where the rest come and attended the Duke of York, with our usual business; who, upon occasion, told us that he did expect this night or tomorrow to hear from Breda of the consummation of the peace. Thence Sir W. Penn and I to the King’s house, and there saw The Committee, which I went to with some prejudice, not liking it before, but I do now find it a very good play, and a great deal of good invention in it; but Lacy’s part is so well performed that it would set off anything. The play being done, we with great pleasure home, and there I to the office to finish my letters, and then home to my chamber to sing and pipe till my wife comes home from her washing, which was nine at night, and a dark and rainy night, that I was troubled at her staying out so long. But she come well home, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we held a meeting extraordinary upon some particular business, and there sat all the morning. At noon, my wife being gone to the whitster’s again to her clothes, I to dinner to Sir W. Batten’s, where much of our discourse concerning Carcasse, who it seems do find success before the Council, and do everywhere threaten us with what he will prove against us, which do vex us to see that we must be subjected to such a rogue of our own servants as this is. By and by to talk of our prize at Hull, and Sir W. Batten offering, again and again, seriously how he would sell his part for £1,000 and I considering the knavery of Hogg and his company, and the trouble we may have with the Prince Rupert about the consort ship, and how we are linked with Sir R. Ford, whose son-in-law too is got thither, and there we entrust him with all our concern, who I doubt not is of the same trade with his father-in-law for a knave, and then the danger of the sea, if it shall be brought about, or bad debts contracted in the sale, but chiefly to be eased of my fears about all or any of this, I did offer my part to him for £700. With a little beating the bargain, we come to a perfect agreement for £666 13s. 4d., which is two-thirds of £1,000, which is my proportion of the prize. I went to my office full of doubts and joy concerning what I had done; but, however, did put into writing the heads of our agreement, and returned to Sir W. Batten, and we both signed them; and Sir R. Ford, being come thither since, witnessed them. So having put it past further dispute I away, satisfied, and took coach and to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Country Captain,3579 which is a very ordinary play. Methinks I had no pleasure therein at all, and so home again and to my business hard till my wife come home from her clothes, and so with her to supper and to bed. No news yet come of the ratification of the peace which we have expected now every hour since yesterday.
. Up, and to the office betimes, where busy, and sat all the morning, vexed with more news of Carcasse’s proceedings at the Council, insomuch as we four, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and myself, did make an appointment to dine with Sir W. Coventry today to discourse it with him, which we did by going thither as soon as the office was up, and there dined, and very merry, and many good stories, and after dinner to our discourse about Carcasse, and how much we are troubled that we should be brought, as they say we shall, to defend our report before the Council-board with him, and to have a clerk imposed on us. He tells us in short that there is no intention in the Lords for the latter, but wholly the contrary. That they do not desire neither to do anything in disrespect to the Board, and he will endeavour to prevent, as he hath done, our coming to plead at the table with our clerk, and do believe the whole will amount to nothing at the Council, only what he shall declare in behalf of the King against the office, if he offers anything, will and ought to be received, to which we all show a readiness, though I confess even that (though I think I am as clear as the clearest of them), yet I am troubled to think what trouble a rogue may without cause give a man, though it be only by bespattering a man, and therefore could wish that over, though I fear nothing to be proved. Thence with much satisfaction, and Sir W. Penn and I to the Duke’s house, where a new play. The King and Court there: the house full, and an act begun. And so went to the King’s, and there saw The Merry Wives of Windsor: which did not please me at all, in no part of it, and so after the play done we to the Duke’s house, where my wife was by appointment in Sir W. Penn’s coach, and she home, and we home, and I to my office, where busy till letters done, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, and so at noon to dinner, and after dinner my wife and I to the Duke’s playhouse, where we saw the new play acted yesterday, The Feign Innocence, or Sir Martin Marr-All; a play made by my Lord Duke of Newcastle, but, as everybody says, corrected by Dryden.3580 It is the most entire piece of mirth, a complete farce from one end to the other, that certainly was ever writ. I never laughed so in all my life. I laughed till my head [ached] all the evening and night with the laughing; and at very good wit therein, not fooling. The house full, and in all things of mighty content to me. Thence to the New Exchange with my wife, where, at my bookseller’s, I saw The History of the Royal Society,3581 which, I believe, is a fine book, and have bespoke one in quires. So home, and I to the office a little, and so to my chamber, and read the history of 883582 in Speede, in order to my seeing the play thereof acted tomorrow at the King’s house. So to supper in some pain by the sudden change of the weather cold and my drinking of cold drink, which I must I fear begin to leave off, though I shall try it as long as I can without much pain. But I find myself to be full of wind, and my anus to be knit together as it is always with cold. Everybody wonders that we have no news from Bredah of the ratification of the peace; and do suspect that there is some stop in it. So to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat, and my head was full of the business of Carcasse, who hath a hearing this morning before the Council and hath summonsed at least thirty persons, and which is wondrous, a great many of them, I hear, do declare more against him than for him, and yet he summonses people without distinction. Sure he is distracted. At noon home to dinner, and presently my wife and I and Sir W. Penn to the King’s playhouse, where the house extraordinary full; and there was the King and Duke of York to see the new play, Queen Elizabeth’s Troubles and the History of Eighty Eight.3583 I confess I have sucked in so much of the sad story of Queen Elizabeth, from my cradle, that I was ready to weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most ridiculous that sure ever come upon the stage; and, indeed, is merely a show, only shows the true garbe of the Queen in those days, just as we see Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth painted; but the play is merely a puppet play, acted by living puppets. Neither the design nor language better; and one stands by and tells us the meaning of things: only I was pleased to see Knipp dance among the milkmaids, and to hear her sing a song to Queen Elizabeth; and to see her come out in her nightgown with no lockes on, but her bare face and hair only tied up in a knot behind; which is the comeliest dress that ever I saw her in to her advantage. Thence home and went as far as Mile End with Sir W. Penn, whose coach took him up there for his country-house; and after having drunk there, at the Rose and Crown, a good house for Alderman Bides ale3584 we parted, and we home, and there I finished my letters, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and being ready, walked up and down to Cree Church, to see it how it is; but I find no alteration there, as they say there was, for my Lord Mayor and Aldermen to come to sermon, as they do every Sunday, as they did formerly to Paul’s.3585 Walk back home and to our own church, where a dull sermon and our church empty of the best sort of people, they being at their country houses, and so home, and there dined with me Mr. Turner and his daughter Betty.3586 Her mother should, but they were invited to Sir J. Minnes, where she dined and the others here with me. Betty is grown a fine lady as to carriage and discourse. I and my wife are mightily pleased with her. We had a good haunch of venison, powdered and boiled, and a good dinner and merry. After dinner comes Mr. Pelling the Potticary, whom I had sent for to dine with me, but he was engaged. After sitting an hour to talk we broke up, all leaving Pelling to talk with my wife, and I walked towards Whitehall, but, being wearied, turned into St. Dunstan’s Church, where I heard an able sermon of the minister3587 of the place; and stood by a pretty, modest maid, whom I did labour to take by the hand and the body; but she would not, but got further and further from me; and, at last, I could perceive her to take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her again—which seeing I did forbear, and was glad I did spy her design. And then I fell to gaze upon another pretty maid in a pew close to me, and she on me; and I did go about to take her by the hand, which she suffered a little and then withdrew. So the sermon ended, and the church broke up, and my amours ended also, and so took coach and home, and there took up my wife, and to Islington with her, our old road, but before we got to Islington, between that and Kingsland, there happened an odd adventure: one of our coach-horses fell sick of the staggers, so as he was ready to fall down. The coachman was fain to ’light, and hold him up, and cut his tongue to make him bleed, and his tail. The horse continued shaking every part of him, as if he had been in an ague, a good while, and his blood settled in his tongue, and the coachman thought and believed he would presently drop down dead; then he blew some tobacco in his nose, upon which the horse sneezed, and, by and by, grows well, and draws us the rest of our way, as well as ever he did; which was one of the strangest things of a horse I ever observed, but he says it is usual. It is the staggers. Stayed and eat and drank at Islington, at the old house, and so home, and to my chamber to read, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning very busy. Towards noon I to Westminster about some tallies at the Exchequer, and then straight home again and dined, and then to sing with my wife with great content, and then I to the office again, where busy, and then out and took coach and to the Duke of York’s house, all alone, and there saw Sir Martin Marr-All again, though I saw him but two days since, and do find it the most comical play that ever I saw in my life. Soon as the play done I home, and there busy till night, and then comes Mr. Moore to me only to discourse with me about some general things touching the badness of the times, how ill they look, and he do agree with most people that I meet with, that we shall fall into a commonwealth in a few years, whether we will or no; for the charge of a monarchy is such as the kingdom cannot be brought to bear willingly, nor are things managed so well nowadays under it, as heretofore. He says everybody do think that there is something extraordinary that keeps us so long from the news of the peace being ratified, which the King and the Duke of York have expected these six days. He gone, my wife and I and Mrs. Turner walked in the garden a good while till 9 at night, and then parted, and I home to supper and to read a little (which I cannot refrain, though I have all the reason in the world to favour my eyes, which every day grow worse and worse by overusing them), and then to bed.
. Up, and to my chamber to set down my journal for the last three days, and then to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then with my wife abroad, set her down at the Exchange, and I to St. James’s, where find Sir W. Coventry alone, and fell to discourse of retrenchments; and thereon he tells how he hath already propounded to the Lords Committee of the Councils3588 how he would have the Treasurer of the Navy a less man, that might not sit at the Board, but be subject to the Board. He would have two Controllers to do his work and two Surveyors, whereof one of each to take it by turns to reside at Portsmouth and Chatham by a kind of rotation; he would have but only one Clerk of the Acts. He do tell me he hath propounded how the charge of the Navy in peace shall come within £200,000, by keeping out twenty-four ships in summer, and ten in the winter. And several other particulars we went over of retrenchment: and I find I must provide some things to offer that I may be found studious to lessen the King’s charge. By and by comes my Lord Brouncker, and then we up to the Duke of York, and there had a hearing of our usual business, but no money to be heard of—no, not £100 upon the most pressing service that can be imagined of bringing in the King’s timber from Whittlewood,3589 while we have the utmost want of it, and no credit to provide it elsewhere, and as soon as we had done with the Duke of York, Sir W. Coventry did single [out] Sir W. Penn and me, and desired us to lend the King some money, out of the prizes we have taken by Hogg. He did not much press it, and we made but a merry answer thereto; but I perceive he did ask it seriously, and did tell us that there never was so much need of it in the world as now, we being brought to the lowest straits that can be in the world. This troubled me much. By and by Sir W. Batten told me that he heard how Carcasse do now give out that he will hang me, among the rest of his threats of him and Penn, which is the first word I ever heard of the kind from him concerning me. It do trouble me a little, though I know nothing he can possibly find to fasten on me. Thence, with my Lord Brouncker to the Duke’s Playhouse (telling my wife so at the ’Change, where I left her), and there saw Sir Martin Marr-All again, which I have now seen three times, and it hath been acted but four times, and still find it a very ingenious play, and full of variety. So home, and to the office, where my eyes would not suffer me to do anything by candlelight, and so called my wife and walked in the garden. She mighty pressing for a new pair of cuffs, which I am against the laying out of money upon yet, which makes her angry. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and my wife and I fell out about the pair of cuffs, which she hath a mind to have to go to see the ladies dancing tomorrow at Betty Turner’s school; and do vex me so that I am resolved to deny them her. However, by-and-by a way was found that she had them, and I well satisfied, being unwilling to let our difference grow higher upon so small an occasion and frowardness of mine. Then to the office, my Lord Brouncker and I all the morning answering petitions, which now by a new Council’s order we are commanded to set a day in a week apart for, and we resolve to do it by turn, my Lord and I one week and two others another. At noon home to dinner, and then my wife and I mighty pleasant abroad, she to the New Exchange and I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, who do sit very close, and are bringing the King’s charges as low as they can; but Sir W. Coventry did here again tell me that he is very serious in what he said to Sir W. Penn and me yesterday about our lending of money to the King; and says that people do talk that we had had the King’s ships at his cost to take prizes, and that we ought to lend the King money more than other people. I did tell him I will consider it, and so parted; and do find I cannot avoid it. So to Westminster Hall and there stayed a while, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did take a little pleasure both with her and her sister. Here sat and talked, and it is a strange thing to see the impudence of the woman, that desires by all means to have her mari come home, only that she might beat liberty to have me para toker her, which is a thing I do not so much desire. Thence by coach, took up my wife, and home and out to Mile End, and there drank, and so home, and after some little reading in my chamber, to supper and to bed. This day I sent my cousin Roger a tierce of claret, which I give him. This morning come two of Captain Cooke’s boys, whose voices are broke, and are gone from the Chapel, but have extraordinary skill; and they and my boy, with his broken voice, did sing three parts; their names were Blaew3590 and Loggings; but, notwithstanding their skill, yet to hear them sing with their broken voices, which they could not command to keep in tune, would make a man mad—so bad it was.
. Up, and to the office; whence Lord Brouncker, J. Minnes, W. Penn, and I, went to examine some men that are put in there, for rescuing of men that were pressed into the service: and we do plainly see that the desperate condition that we put men into for want of their pay, makes them mad, they being as good men as ever were in the world, and would as readily serve the King again, were they but paid. Two men leapt overboard, among others, into the Thames, out of the vessel into which they were pressed, and were shot by the soldiers placed there to keep them, two days since; so much people do avoid the King’s service! And then these men are pressed without money, and so we cannot punish them for anything, so that we are forced only to make a show of severity3591 by keeping them in prison, but are unable to punish them. Returning to the office, did ask whether we might visit Commissioner Pett, to which, I confess, I have no great mind; and it was answered that he was close prisoner, and we could not; but the Lieutenant of the Tower would send for him to his lodgings, if we would: so we put it off to another time. Returned to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to Captain Cocke’s to dinner; where Lord Brouncker and his Lady, Matt. Wren, and Bulteale, and Sir Allen Apsly; the last of whom did make good sport, he being already fallen under the retrenchments of the new Committee, as he is Master Falconer;3592 which makes him mad, and swears that we are doing that the Parliament would have done—that is, that we are now endeavouring to destroy one another. But it was well observed by some at the table, that they do not think this retrenching of the King’s charge will be so acceptable to the Parliament, they having given the King a revenue of so many £100,000’s a-year more than his predecessors had, that he might live in pomp, like a king. After dinner with my Lord Brouncker and his mistress to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Indian Emperour; where I find Nell come again, which I am glad of; but was most infinitely displeased with her being put to act the Emperour’s daughter; which is a great and serious part,3593 which she do most basely. The rest of the play, though pretty good, was not well acted by most of them, methought; so that I took no great content in it. But that, that troubled me most was, that Knipp sent by Moll3594 to desire to speak to me after the play; and she beckoned to me at the end of the play, and I promised to come; but it was so late, and I forced to step to Mrs. Williams’s lodgings with my Lord Brouncker and her, where I did not stay, however, for fear of her showing me her closet, and thereby forcing me to give her something; and it was so late, that for fear of my wife’s coming home before me, I was forced to go straight home, which troubled me. Home and to the office a little, and then home and to my chamber to read, and anon, late, comes home my wife, with Mr. Turner and Mrs. Turner, with whom she supped, having been with Mrs. Turner today at her daughter’s school, to see her daughters dancing, and the rest, which she says is fine. They gone, I to supper and to bed. My wife very fine today, in her new suit of laced cuffs and perquisites. This evening Pelling comes to me, and tells me that this night the Dutch letters are come, and that the peace was proclaimed there the 19th inst., and that all is finished; which, for my life, I know not whether to be glad or sorry for, a peace being so necessary, and yet the peace is so bad in its terms.
. Up, and Greeting comes, who brings me a tune for two flageolets, which we played, and is a tune played at the King’s playhouse, which goes so well, that I will have more of them, and it will be a mighty pleasure for me to have my wife able to play a part with me, which she will easily, I find, do. Then abroad to Whitehall in a hackney-coach with Sir W. Penn: and in our way, in the narrow street near Paul’s, going the backway by Tower Street, and the coach being forced to put back, he was turning himself into a cellar3595 which made people cry out to us, and so we were forced to leap out—he out of one, and I out of the other boote;3596 Query, whether a glass-coach would have permitted us to have made the escape?3597 neither of us getting any hurt; nor could the coach have got much hurt had we been in it; but, however, there was cause enough for us to do what we could to save ourselves. So being all dusty, we put into the Castle tavern, by the Savoy, and there brushed ourselves, and then to Whitehall with our fellows to attend the Council, by order upon some proposition of my Lord Anglesey, we were called in. The King there: and it was about considering how the fleet might be discharged at their coming in shortly (the peace being now ratified, and it takes place on Monday next, which Sir W. Coventry said would make some clashing between some of us twenty to one, for want of more warning, but the wind has kept the boats from coming over), whether by money or tickets, and cries out against tickets, but the matter was referred for us to provide an answer to, which we must do in a few days. So we parted, and I to Westminster to the Exchequer, to see what sums of money other people lend upon the Act; and find of all sizes from £1,000 to £100 nay, to £50, nay, to £20, nay, to £5: for I find that one Dr. Reade, Doctor of Law, gives no more, and others of them £20; which is a poor thing, methinks, that we should stoop so low as to borrow such sums. Upon the whole, I do think to lend, since I must lend, £300, though, God knows! it is much against my will to lend any, unless things were in better condition, and likely to continue so. Thence home and there to dinner, and after dinner by coach out again, setting my wife down at Unthanke’s, and I to the Treasury-chamber, where I waited, talking with Sir G. Downing, till the Lords met. He tells me how he will make all the Exchequer officers, of one side and t’other, to lend the King money upon the Act; and that the least clerk shall lend money, and he believes the least will £100: but this I do not believe. He made me almost ashamed that we of the Navy had not in all this time lent any; so that I find it necessary I should, and so will speedily do it, before any of my fellows begin, and lead me to a bigger sum. By and by the Lords come; and I perceive Sir W. Coventry is the man, and nothing done till he comes. Among other things, I hear him observe, looking over a paper, that Sir John Shaw is a miracle of a man, for he thinks he executes more places than any man in England; for there he finds him a Surveyor of some of the King’s woods, and so reckoned up many other places, the most inconsistent in the world. Their business with me was to consider how to assigne such of our commanders as will take assignements upon the Act for their wages; and the consideration thereof was referred to me to give them an answer the next sitting: which is a horrid poor thing: but they scruple at nothing of honour in the case. So away hence, and called my wife, and to the King’s house, and saw The Maiden Queen, which pleases us mightily; and then away, and took up Mrs. Turner at her door, and so to Mile End, and there drank, and so back to her house, it being a fine evening, and there supped. The first time I ever was there since they lived there; and she hath all things so neat and well done, that I am mightily pleased with her, and all she do. So here very merry, and then home and to bed, my eyes being very bad. I find most people pleased with their being at ease, and safe of a peace, that they may know no more charge or hazard of an ill-managed war: but nobody speaking of the peace with any content or pleasure, but are silent in it, as of a thing they are ashamed of; no, not at Court, much less in the City.
. This morning was proclaimed the peace3598 between us and the States of the United Provinces, and also of the King of France and Denmark; and in the afternoon the Proclamations were printed and come out; and at night the bells rung, but no bonfires that I hear of anywhere, partly from the dearness of firing, but principally from the little content most people have in the peace. All the morning at the office. At noon dined, and Creed with me, at home. After dinner we to a play, and there saw The Cardinall at the King’s house, wherewith I am mightily pleased; but, above all, with Becke Marshall. But it is pretty to observe how I look up and down for, and did spy Knipp; but durst not own it to my wife that I see her, for fear of angering her, who do not like my kindness to her, and so I was forced not to take notice of her, and so homeward, leaving Creed at the Temple: and my belly now full with plays, that I do intend to bind myself to see no more till Michaelmas. So with my wife to Mile End, and there drank of Bides ale, and so home. Most of our discourse is about our keeping a coach the next year, which pleases my wife mightily; and if I continue as able as now, it will save us money. This day comes a letter from the Duke of York to the Board to invite us, which is as much as to fright us, into the lending the King money; which is a poor thing, and most dishonourable, and shows in what a case we are at the end of the war to our neighbours. And the King do now declare publicly to give 10 percent to all lenders; which makes some think that the Dutch themselves will send over money, and lend it upon our public faith, the Act of Parliament. So home and to my office, wrote a little, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to church, and thence home; and Pelling comes by invitation to dine with me, and much pleasant discourse with him. After dinner, away by water to Whitehall, where I landed Pelling, who is going to his wife, where she is in the country, at Parson’s Greene:3599 and myself to Westminster, and there at the Swan I did baiser Frank, and to the parish church, thinking to see Betty Michell; and did stay an hour in the crowd, thinking, by the end of a nose that I saw, that it had been her; but at last the head turned towards me, and it was her mother, which vexed me, and so I back to my boat, which had broke one of her oars in rowing, and had now fastened it again; and so I up to Putney, and there stepped into the church, to look upon the fine people there, whereof there is great store, and the young ladies; and so walked to Barne-Elmes, whither I sent Russel,3600 reading of Boyle’s Hydrostatics, which are of infinite delight. I walked in the Elmes a good while, and then to my boat, and leisurely home, with great pleasure to myself; and there supped, and W. Hewer with us, with whom a great deal of good talk touching the Office, and so to bed.
. Up, and Greeting come, and I reckoned with him for his teaching of my wife and me upon the flageolet to this day, and so paid him for having as much as he can teach us. Then to the Office, where we sat upon a particular business all the morning: and my Lord Anglesey with us: who, and my Lord Brouncker, do bring us news how my Lord Chancellor’s seal is to be taken away from him today. The thing is so great and sudden to me, that it put me into a very great admiration what should be the meaning of it; and they do not own that they know what it should be: but this is certain, that the King did resolve it on Saturday, and did yesterday send the Duke of Albemarle, the only man fit for those works, to him for his purse: to which the Chancellor answered, that he received it from the King, and would deliver it to the King’s own hand, and so civilly returned the Duke of Albemarle without it; and this morning my Lord Chancellor is to be with the King, to come to an end in the business. After sitting, we rose, and my wife being gone abroad with Mrs. Turner to her washing at the whitster’s, I dined at Sir W. Batten’s, where Mr. Boreman was, who come from Whitehall; who tells us that he saw my Lord Chancellor come in his coach with some of his men, without his Seal, to Whitehall to his chamber; and thither the King and Duke of York come and stayed together alone, an hour or more: and it is said that the King do say that he will have the Parliament meet, and that it will prevent much trouble by having of him out of their enmity, by his place being taken away; for that all their enmity will be at him. It is said also that my Lord Chancellor answers, that he desires he may be brought to his trial, if he have done anything to lose his office; and that he will be willing, and is most desirous, to lose that, and his head both together. Upon what terms they parted nobody knows but the Chancellor looked sad, he says. Then in comes Sir Richard Ford, and says he hears that there is nobody more presses to reconcile the King and Chancellor than the Duke of Albemarle and Duke of Buckingham: the latter of which is very strange, not only that he who was so lately his enemy should do it, but that this man, that but the other day was in danger of losing his own head, should so soon come to be a mediator for others: it shows a wise Government. They all say that he [Clarendon] is but a poor man, not worth above £3,000 a-year in land; but this I cannot believe: and all do blame him for having built so great a house, till he had got a better estate. Having dined, Sir J. Minnes and I to Whitehall, where we could be informed in no more than we were told before, nobody knowing the result of the meeting, but that the matter is suspended. So I walked to the King’s playhouse, there to meet Sir W. Penn, and saw The Surprisal,3601 a very mean play, I thought: or else it was because I was out of humour, and but very little company in the house. But there Sir W. Penn and I had a great deal of discourse with Moll; who tells us that Nell is already left by my Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes sport of her, and swears she hath had all she could get of him; and Hart,3602 her great admirer, now hates her; and that she is very poor, and hath lost my Lady Castlemayne, who was her great friend also but she is come to the House, but is neglected by them all.3603 Thence with Sir W. Penn home, and I to the office, where late about business, and then home to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and am invited betimes to be godfather tomorrow to Captain Poole’s child with my Lady Penn and Lady Batten, which I accepted out of complaisance to them, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then my wife and I, with Sir W. Penn, to the New Exchange, set her down, and he and I to St. James’s, where Sir J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, and we waited upon the Duke of York, but did little business, and he, I perceive, his head full of other business, and of late hath not been very ready to be troubled with any of our business. Having done with him, Sir J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten and I to Whitehall, and there hear how it is like to go well enough with my Lord Chancellor; that he is like to keep his Seal, desiring that he may stand his trial in Parliament, if they will accuse him of anything. Here Sir J. Minnes and I looking upon the pictures; and Mr. Chevins,3604 being by, did take us, of his own accord, into the King’s closet, to show us some pictures, which, indeed, is a very noble place, and exceeding great variety of brave pictures, and the best hands. I could have spent three or four hours there well, and we had great liberty to look and Chevins seemed to take pleasure to show us, and commend the pictures. Having done here, I to the Exchange, and there find my wife gone with Sir W. Penn. So I to visit Colonel Fitzgerald,3605 who hath been long sick at Woolwich, where most of the officers and soldiers quartered there, since the Dutch being in the river, have died or been sick, and he among the rest; and, by the growth of his beard and gray [hairs], I did not know him. His desire to speak with me was about the late command for my paying no more pensions for Tangier. Thence home, and there did business, and so in the evening home to supper and to bed. This day Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, was with me; and tells me how this business of my Lord Chancellor’s was certainly designed in my Lady Castlemayne’s chamber; and that, when he went from the King on Monday morning, she was in bed, though about twelve o’clock, and ran out in her smock into her aviary looking into Whitehall Garden; and thither her woman brought her her nightgown; and stood joying herself at the old man’s going away: and several of the gallants of Whitehall, of which there were many staying to see the Chancellor return, did talk to her in her birdcage; among others, Blancford,3606 telling her she was the bird of paradise.3607
. Up; and stayed undressed till my tailor’s boy did mend my vest, in order to my going to the christening anon. Then out and to Whitehall, to attend the Council, by their order, with an answer to their demands touching our advice for the paying off of the seamen, when the ships shall come in, which answer is worth seeing, showing the badness of our condition. There, when I come, I was forced to stay till past twelve o’clock, in a crowd of people in the lobby, expecting the hearing of the great cause of Alderman Barker3608 against my Lord Deputy of Ireland, for his ill usage in his business of land there; but the King and Council sat so long, as they neither heard them nor me. So when they rose, I into the House, and saw the King and Queen at dinner, and heard a little of their violins’ music, and so home, and there to dinner, and in the afternoon with my Lady Batten, Penn, and her daughter, and my wife, to Mrs. Poole’s, where I mighty merry among the women, and christened the child, a girl, Elizabeth, which, though a girl, yet my Lady Batten would have me to give the name. After christening comes Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Penn, and Mr. Lowther, and mighty merry there, and I forfeited for not kissing the two godmothers presently after the christening, before I kissed the mother, which made good mirth; and so anon away, and my wife and I took coach and went twice round Bartholomew fair; which I was glad to see again, after two years missing it by the plague, and so home and to my chamber a little, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and Mr. Moore comes to me, and among other things tells me that my Lord Crew and his friends take it very ill of me that my Lord Sandwich’s sea-fee should be retrenched, and so reported from this Office, and I give them no notice of it. The thing, though I know to be false—at least, that nothing went from our office towards it—yet it troubled me, and therefore after the office rose I went and dined with my Lord Crew, and before dinner I did enter into that discourse, and laboured to satisfy him; but found, though he said little, yet that he was not yet satisfied; but after dinner did pray me to go and see how it was, whether true or no. Did tell me if I was not their friend, they could trust to nobody, and that he did not forget my service and love to my Lord, and adventures for him in dangerous times, and therefore would not willingly doubt me now; but yet asked my pardon if, upon this news, he did begin to fear it. This did mightily trouble me: so I away thence to Whitehall, but could do nothing. So home, and there wrote all my letters, and then, in the evening, to Whitehall again, and there met Sir Richard Browne, Clerk to the Committee for retrenchments, who assures me no one word was ever yet mentioned about my Lord’s salary. This pleased me, and I to Sir G. Carteret, who I find in the same doubt about it, and assured me he saw it in our original report, my Lord’s name with a discharge against it. This, though I know to be false, or that it must be a mistake in my clerk, I went back to Sir R. Browne and got a sight of their paper, and find how the mistake arose, by the ill copying of it out for the Council from our paper sent to the Duke of York, which I took away with me and showed Sir G. Carteret, and thence to my Lord Crew, and the mistake ended very merrily, and to all our contents, particularly my own, and so home, and to the office, and then to my chamber late, and so to supper and to bed. I find at Sir G. Carteret’s that they do mightily joy themselves in the hopes of my Lord Chancellor’s getting over this trouble; and I make them believe, and so, indeed, I do believe he will, that my Lord Chancellor is become popular by it. I find by all hands that the Court is at this day all to pieces, every man of a faction of one sort or other, so as it is to be feared what it will come to. But that, that pleases me is, I hear tonight that Mr. Brouncker is turned away yesterday by the Duke of York, for some bold words he was heard by Colonel Werden3609 to say in the garden, the day the Chancellor was with the King—that he believed the King would be hectored out of everything. For this the Duke of York, who all say hath been very strong for his father-in-law at this trial, hath turned him away: and everybody, I think, is glad of it; for he was a pestilent rogue, an atheist, that would have sold his King and country for 6d. almost, so covetous and wicked a rogue he is, by all men’s report. But one observed to me, that there never was the occasion of men’s holding their tongues at Court and everywhere else as there is at this day, for nobody knows which side will be uppermost.
. Up, and to Whitehall, where at the Council Chamber I hear Barker’s business is like to come to a hearing today, having failed the last day. I therefore to Westminster to see what I could do in my ’Chequer business about Tangier, and finding nothing to be done, returned, and in the Lobby stayed till almost noon expecting to hear Barker’s business, but it was not called, so I come away. Here I met with Sir G. Downing, who tells me of Sir W. Penn’s offering to lend £500; and I tell him of my £300, which he would have me to lend upon the credit of the latter part of the Act; saying, that by that means my 10 percent will continue to me the longer. But I understand better, and will do it upon the £380,000, which will come to be paid the sooner; there being no delight in lending money now, to be paid by the King two years hence. But here he and Sir William Doyly were attending the Council as Commissioners for sick and wounded, and prisoners: and they told me their business, which was to know how we shall do to release our prisoners; for it seems the Dutch have got us to agree in the treaty, as they fool us in anything, that the dyet of the prisoners on both sides shall be paid for, before they be released; which they have done, knowing ours to run high, they having more prisoners of ours than we have of theirs; so that they are able and most ready to discharge the debt of theirs, but we are neither able nor willing to do that for ours, the debt of those in Zealand only, amounting to above £5,000 for men taken in the King’s own ships, besides others taken in merchantmen, which expect, as is usual, that the King should redeem them; but I think he will not, by what Sir G. Downing says. This our prisoners complain of there; and say in their letters, which Sir G. Downing showed me, that they have made a good feat that they should be taken in the service of the King, and the King not pay for their victuals while prisoners for him. But so far they are from doing thus with their men, as we do to discourage ours, that I find in the letters of some of our prisoners there, which he showed me, that they have with money got our men, that they took, to work and carry their ships home for them; and they have been well rewarded, and released when they come into Holland: which is done like a noble, brave, and wise people. Having stayed out my time that I thought fit for me to return home, I home and there took coach and with my wife to Walthamstow; to Sir W. Penn’s, by invitation, the first time I have been there, and there find him and all their guests (of our office only) at dinner, which was a very bad dinner, and everything suitable, that I never knew people in my life that make their flutter, that do things so meanly. I was sick to see it, but was merry at some ridiculous humours of my Lady Batten, who, as being an ill-bred woman, would take exceptions at anything anybody said, and I made good sport at it. After dinner into the garden and wilderness, which is like the rest of the house, nothing in order, nor looked after. By and by comes news that my Lady Viner was come to see Mrs. Lowther, which I was glad of, and all the pleasure I had here was to see her, which I did, and saluted her, and find she is pretty, though not so eminently so as people talked of her, and of very pretty carriage and discourse. I sat with them and her an hour talking and pleasant, and then slunk away alone without taking leave, leaving my wife there to come home with them, and I to Bartholomew fair, to walk up and down; and there, among other things, find my Lady Castlemayne at a puppet-play, Patient Grizill,3610 and the street full of people expecting her coming out. I confess I did wonder at her courage to come abroad, thinking the people would abuse her; but they, silly people! do not know her work she makes, and therefore suffered her with great respect to take coach, and she away, without any trouble at all, which I wondered at, I confess. I only walked up and down, and, among others, saw Tom Pepys, the turner, who hath a shop, and I think lives in the fair when the fair is not. I only asked how he did as he stood in the street, and so up and down sauntering till late and then home, and there discoursed with my wife of our bad entertainment today, and so to bed. I met Captain Cocke today at the Council Chamber and took him with me to Westminster, who tells me that there is yet expectation that the Chancellor will lose the Seal, and that he is sure that the King hath said it to him who told it him, and he fears we shall be soon broke in pieces, and assures me that there have been high words between the Duke of York and Sir W. Coventry, for his being so high against the Chancellor; so as the Duke of York would not sign some papers that he brought, saying that he could not endure the sight of him: and that Sir W. Coventry answered, that what he did was in obedience to the King’s commands; and that he did not think any man fit to serve a Prince, that did not know how to retire and live a country life. This is all I hear.
. At the office all the morning; where, by Sir W. Penn, I do hear that the Seal was fetched away to the King yesterday from the Lord Chancellor by Secretary Morrice; which puts me into a great horror, to have it done after so much debate and confidence that it would not be done at last. When we arose I took a turn with Lord Brouncker in the garden, and he tells me that he hath of late discoursed about this business with Sir W. Coventry, who he finds is the great man in the doing this business of the Chancellor’s, and that he do persevere in it, though against the Duke of York’s opinion, to which he says that the Duke of York was once of the same mind, and if he hath thought fit since, for any reason, to alter his mind, he hath not found any to alter his own, and so desires to be excused, for it is for the King’s and kingdom’s good. And it seems that the Duke of York himself was the first man that did speak to the King of this, though he hath since altered his mind; and that W. Coventry did tell the Duke of York that he was not fit to serve a Prince that did not know how to retire, and live a private life; and that he was ready for that, if it be his and the King’s pleasure. After having wrote my letters at the office in the afternoon, I in the evening to Whitehall to see how matters go, and there I met with Mr. Ball, of the Excise-office, and he tells me that the Seal is delivered to Sir Orlando Bridgeman;3611 the man of the whole nation that is the best spoken of, and will please most people; and therefore I am mighty glad of it. He was then at my Lord Arlington’s, whither I went, expecting to see him come out; but stayed so long, and Sir W. Coventry coming thither, whom I had not a mind should see me there idle upon a post-night, I went home without seeing him; but he is there with his Seal in his hand. So I home, took up my wife, whom I left at Unthanke’s, and so home, and after signing my letters to bed. This day, being dissatisfied with my wife’s learning so few songs of Goodgroome, I did come to a new bargain with him to teach her songs at so much, viz., 10s. a song, which he accepts of, and will teach her.
September 1667
. Up, and betimes by water from the Tower, and called at the Old Swan for a glass of strong water, and sent word to have little Michell and his wife come and dine with us today; and so, taking in a gentleman and his lady that wanted a boat, I to Westminster. Setting them on shore at Charing Cross, I to Mrs. Martin’s, where I had two pair of cuffs which I bespoke, and there did sit and talk with her … and here I did see her little girl my goddaughter, which will be pretty, and there having stayed a little I away to Creed’s chamber, and when he was ready away to Whitehall, where I met with several people and had my fill of talk. Our new Lord-keeper, Bridgeman, did this day, the first time, attend the King to chapel with his Seal. Sir H. Cholmly tells me there are hopes that the women will also have a rout, and particularly that my Lady Castlemayne is coming to a composition with the King to be gone; but how true this is, I know not. Blancfort is made Privy-purse to the Duke of York; the Attorney-general3612 is made Chief justice, in the room of my Lord Bridgeman; the Solicitor-general3613 is made Attorney-general; and Sir Edward Turner made Solicitor-general. It is pretty to see how strange everybody looks, nobody knowing whence this arises; whether from my Lady Castlemayne, Bab. May, and their faction; or from the Duke of York, notwithstanding his great appearance of defence of the Chancellor; or from Sir William Coventry, and some few with him. But greater changes are yet expected. So home and by water to dinner, where comes Pelling and young Michell and his wife, whom I have not seen a great while, poor girl, and then comes Mr. Howe, and all dined with me very merry, and spent all the afternoon, Pelting, Howe, and I, and my boy, singing of Lock’s response to the Ten Commandments,3614 which he hath set very finely, and was a good while since sung before the King, and spoiled in the performance, which occasioned his printing them for his vindication, and are excellent good. They parted, in the evening my wife and I to walk in the garden and there scolded a little, I being doubtful that she had received a couple of fine pinners (one of point de Gesne),3615 which I feared she hath from some [one] or other of a present; but, on the contrary, I find she hath bought them for me to pay for them, without my knowledge. This do displease me much; but yet do so much please me better than if she had received them the other way, that I was not much angry, but fell to other discourse, and so to my chamber, and got her to read to me for saving of my eyes, and then, having got a great cold, I know not how, I to bed and lay ill at ease all the night.
. This day is kept in the City as a public fast for the fire this day twelve months: but I was not at church, being commanded, with the rest, to attend the Duke of York; and, therefore, with Sir J. Minnes to St. James’s, where we had much business before the Duke of York, and observed all things to be very kind between the Duke of York and W. Coventry, which did mightily joy me. When we had done, Sir W. Coventry called me down with him to his chamber, and there told me that he is leaving the Duke of York’s service, which I was amazed at. But he tells me that it is not with the least unkindness on the Duke of York’s side, though he expects, and I told him he was in the right, it will be interpreted otherwise, because done just at this time; “but,” says he, “I did desire it a good while since, and the Duke of York did, with much entreaty, grant it, desiring that I would say nothing of it, that he might have time and liberty to choose his successor, without being importuned for others whom he should not like:” and that he hath chosen Mr. Wren, which I am glad of, he being a very ingenious man; and so Sir W. Coventry says of him, though he knows him little; but particularly commends him for the book he writ in answer to Harrington’s Oceana,3616 which, for that reason, I intend to buy. He tells me the true reason is, that he, being a man not willing to undertake more business than he can go through, and being desirous to have his whole time to spend upon the business of the Treasury, and a little for his own ease, he did desire this of the Duke of York. He assures me that the kindness with which he goes away from the Duke of York is one of the greatest joys that ever he had in the world. I used some freedom with him, telling him how the world hath discoursed of his having offended the Duke of York, about the late business of the Chancellor. He do not deny it, but says that perhaps the Duke of York might have some reason for it, he opposing him in a thing wherein he was so earnest but tells me, that, notwithstanding all that, the Duke of York does not now, nor can blame him; for he tells me that he was the man that did propose the removal of the Chancellor; and that he did still persist in it, and at this day publicly owns it, and is glad of it; but that the Duke of York knows that he did first speak of it to the Duke of York, before he spoke to any mortal creature besides, which was fair dealing: and the Duke of York was then of the same mind with him, and did speak of it to the King; though since, for reasons best known to himself, he was afterwards altered. I did then desire to know what was the great matter that grounded his desire of the Chancellor’s removal? He told me many things not fit to be spoken, and yet not anything of his being unfaithful to the King; but, instar omnium, he told me, that while he was so great at the Council-board, and in the administration of matters, there was no room for anybody to propose any remedy to what was amiss, or to compass anything, though never so good for the kingdom, unless approved of by the Chancellor, he managing all things with that greatness which now will be removed, that the King may have the benefit of others’ advice. I then told him that the world hath an opinion that he hath joined himself with my Lady Castlemayne’s faction in this business; he told me, he cannot help it, but says they are in an errour: but for first he will never, while he lives, truckle under anybody or any faction, but do just as his own reason and judgment directs; and, when he cannot use that freedom, he will have nothing to do in public affairs but then he added, that he never was the man that ever had any discourse with my Lady Castlemayne, or with others from her, about this or any public business, or ever made her a visit, or at least not this twelvemonth, or been in her lodgings but when called on any business to attend the King there, nor hath had anything to do in knowing her mind in this business. He ended all with telling me that he knows that he that serves a Prince must expect, and be contented to stand, all fortunes, and be provided to retreat, and that that he is most willing to do whenever the King shall please. And so we parted, he setting me down out of his coach at Charing Cross, and desired me to tell Sir W. Penn what he had told me of his leaving the Duke of York’s service, that his friends might not be the last that know it. I took a coach and went homewards; but then turned again, and to Whitehall, where I met with many people; and, among other things, do learn that there is some fear that Mr. Brouncker is got into the King’s favour, and will be cherished there; which will breed ill will between the King and Duke of York, he lodging at this time in Whitehall since he was put away from the Duke of York: and he is great with Bab. May, my Lady Castlemayne, and that wicked crew. But I find this denied by Sir G. Carteret, who tells me that he is sure he hath no kindness from the King; that the King at first, indeed, did endeavour to persuade the Duke of York from putting him away; but when, besides this business of his ill words concerning his Majesty in the business of the Chancellor, he told him that he hath had, a long time, a mind to put him away for his ill offices, done between him and his wife, the King held his peace, and said no more, but wished him to do what he pleased with him; which was very noble. I met with Fenn; and he tells me, as I do hear from some others, that the business of the Chancellor’s had proceeded from something of a mistake, for the Duke of York did first tell the King that the Chancellor had a desire to be eased of his great trouble; and that the King, when the Chancellor come to him, did wonder to hear him deny it, and the Duke of York was forced to deny to the King that ever he did tell him so in those terms: but the King did answer that he was sure that he did say some such thing to him; but, however, since it had gone so far, did desire him to be contented with it, as a thing very convenient for him as well as for himself (the King), and so matters proceeded, as we find. Now it is likely the Chancellor might, some time or other, in a compliment or vanity, say to the Duke of York, that he was weary of this burden, and I know not what; and this comes of it. Some people, and myself among them, are of good hope from this change that things are reforming; but there are others that do think but that it is a hit of chance, as all other our greatest matters are, and that there is no general plot or contrivance in any number of people what to do next, though, I believe, Sir W. Coventry may in himself have further designs; and so that, though other changes may come, yet they shall be accidental and laid upon [not] good principles of doing good. Mr. May3617 showed me the King’s new buildings, in order to their having of some old sails for the closing of the windows this winter. I dined with Sir G. Carteret, with whom dined Mr. Jack Ashburnham and Dr. Creeton, who I observe to be a most good man and scholar. In discourse at dinner concerning the change of men’s humours and fashions touching meats, Mr. Ashburnham told us, that he remembers since the only fruit in request, and eaten by the King and Queen at table as the best fruit, was the Katharine pear,3618 though they knew at the time other fruits of France and our own country. After dinner comes in Mr. Townsend; and there I was witness of a horrid rating, which Mr. Ashburnham, as one of the Grooms of the King’s Bedchamber, did give him for want of linen for the King’s person; which he swore was not to be endured, and that the King would not endure it, and that the King his father, would have hanged his Wardrobe-man should he have been served so the King having at this day no handkerchers, and but three bands to his neck, he swore. Mr. Townsend answered want of money, and the owing of the linen-draper £5,000; and that he hath of late got many rich things made—beds, and sheets, and saddles, and all without money, and he can go no further but still this old man, indeed, like an old loving servant, did cry out for the King’s person to be neglected. But, when he was gone, Townsend told me that it is the grooms taking away the King’s linen at the quarter’s end, as their fees, which makes this great want: for, whether the King can get it or no, they will run away at the quarter’s end with what he hath had, let the King get more as he can. All the company gone, Sir G. Carteret and I to talk: and it is pretty to observe how already he says that he did always look upon the Chancellor indeed as his friend, though he never did do him any service at all, nor ever got anything by him, nor was he a man apt, and that, I think, is true, to do any man any kindness of his own nature; though I do know that he was believed by all the world to be the greatest support of Sir G. Carteret with the King of any man in England: but so little is now made of it! He observes that my Lord Sandwich will lose a great friend in him; and I think so too, my Lord Hinchingbroke being about a match calculated purely out of respect to my Lord Chancellor’s family.3619 By and by Sir G. Carteret, and Townsend, and I, to consider of an answer to the Commissioners of the Treasury about my Lord Sandwich’s profits in the Wardrobe; which seem, as we make them, to be very small, not £1,000 a-year; but only the difference in measure at which he buys and delivers out to the King, and then 6d. in the pound from the tradesmen for what money he receives for him; but this, it is believed, these Commissioners will endeavour to take away. From him I went to see a great match at tennis, between Prince Rupert and one Captain Cooke,3620 against Bab. May and the elder Chichly; where the King was, and Court; and it seems are the best players at tennis in the nation. But this puts me in mind of what I observed in the morning, that the King, playing at tennis, had a steelyard carried to him, and I was told it was to weigh him after he had done playing; and at noon Mr. Ashburnham told me that it is only the King’s curiosity, which he usually hath of weighing himself before and after his play, to see how much he loses in weight by playing: and this day he lost 4½ lbs. Thence home and took my wife out to Mile End Green, and there I drank, and so home, having a very fine evening. Then home, and I to Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn, and there discoursed of Sir W. Coventry’s leaving the Duke of York, and Mr. Wren’s succeeding him. They told me both seriously, that they had long cut me out for Secretary to the Duke of York, if ever [Sir] W. Coventry left him; which, agreeing with what I have heard from other hands heretofore, do make me not only think that something of that kind hath been thought on, but do comfort me to see that the world hath such an esteem of my qualities as to think me fit for any such thing. Though I am glad, with all my heart, that I am not so; for it would never please me to be forced to the attendance that that would require, and leave my wife and family to themselves, as I must do in such a case; thinking myself now in the best place that ever man was in to please his own mind in, and, therefore, I will take care to preserve it. So to bed, my cold remaining though not so much upon me. This day Nell, an old tall maid, come to live with us, a cook-maid recommended by Mr. Batelier.
. All the morning, business at the office, dined at home, then in the afternoon set my wife down at the Exchange, and I to St. James’s, and there attended the Duke of York about the list of ships that we propose to sell: and here there attended Mr. Wren the first time, who hath not yet, I think, received the Duke of York’s seal and papers. At our coming hither, we found the Duke and Duchess all alone at dinner, methought melancholy; or else I thought so, from the late occasion of the Chancellor’s fall, who, they say, however, takes it very contentedly. Thence I to Whitehall a little, and so took up my wife at the ’Change, and so home, and at the office late, and so home to supper and to bed, our boy ill.
. By coach to Whitehall to the Council-chamber; and there met with Sir W. Coventry going in, who took me aside, and told me that he was just come from delivering up his seal and papers to Mr. Wren; and told me he must now take his leave of me as a naval man, but that he shall always bear respect to his friends there,3621 and particularly to myself, with great kindness; which I returned to him with thanks, and so, with much kindness parted: and he into, the Council. I met with Sir Samuel Morland, who showed me two orders upon the Exchequer, one of £600, and another of £400, for money assigned to him, which he would have me lend him money upon, and he would allow 12 percent. I would not meddle with them, though they are very good; and would, had I not so much money out already on public credit. But I see by this his condition all trade will be bad. I stayed and heard Alderman Barker’s case of his being abused by the Council of Ireland, touching his lands there: all I observed there is the silliness of the King, playing with his dog all the while, and not minding the business,3622 and what he said was mighty weak; but my Lord Keeper I observe to be a mighty able man. The business broke off without any end to it, and so I home, and thence with my wife and W. Hewer to Bartholomew fair, and there Polichinelli, where we saw Mrs. Clerke and all her crew; and so to a private house, and sent for a side of pig, and eat it at an acquaintance of W. Hewer’s, where there was some learned physic and chymical books, and among others, a natural Herball very fine.3623 Here we stayed not, but to the Duke of York’s play house, and there saw Mustapha, which, the more I see, the more I like; and is a most admirable poem, and bravely acted; only both Betterton and Harris could not contain from laughing in the midst of a most serious part from the ridiculous mistake of one of the men upon the stage; which I did not like. Thence home, where Batelier and his sister Mary come to us and sat and talked, and so, they gone, we to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat till noon, and then I home to dinner, where Mary Batelier and her brother dined with us, who grows troublesome in his talking so much of his going to Marseilles, and what commissions he hath to execute as a factor, and a deal of do of which I am weary. After dinner, with Sir W. Penn, my wife, and Mary Batelier to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw Heraclius, which is a good play; but they did so spoil it with their laughing, and being all of them out, and with the noise they made within the theatre, that I was ashamed of it, and resolve not to come thither again a good while, believing that this negligence, which I never observed before, proceeds only from their want of company in the pit, that they have no care how they act. My wife was ill, and so I was forced to go out of the house with her to Lincoln’s Inn walks, and there in a corner she did her business, and was by and by well, and so into the house again, but sick of their ill acting. So home and to the office, where busy late, then home to supper and to bed. This morning was told by Sir W. Batten, that he do hear from Mr. Grey, who hath good intelligence, that our Queen is to go into a nunnery, there to spend her days; and that my Lady Castlemayne is going into France, and is to have a pension of £4,000 a-year. This latter I do more believe than the other, it being very wise in her to do it, and save all she hath, besides easing the King and kingdom of a burden and reproach.
. Up, and to Westminster to the Exchequer, and then into the Hall, and there bought Guillim’s Heraldry3624 for my wife, and so to the Swan, and thither come Doll Lane, and je did toucher her, and drank, and so away, I took coach and home, where I find my wife gone to Walthamstow by invitation with Sir W. Batten, and so I followed, taking up Mrs. Turner, and she and I much discourse all the way touching the baseness of Sir W. Penn and sluttishness of his family, and how the world do suspect that his son Lowther, who is sick of a sore mouth, has got the pox. So we come to Sir W. Batten’s, where Sir W. Penn and his Lady, and we and Mrs. Shipman, and here we walked and had an indifferent good dinner, the victuals very good and cleanly dressed and good linen, but no fine meat at all. After dinner we went up and down the house, and I do like it very well, being furnished with a great deal of very good goods. And here we stayed, I tired with the company, till almost evening, and then took leave, Turner and I together again, and my wife with [Sir] W. Penn. At Aldgate I took my wife into our coach, and so to Bartholomew fair, and there, it being very dirty, and now night, we saw a poor fellow, whose legs were tied behind his back, dance upon his hands with his arse above his head, and also dance upon his crutches, without any legs upon the ground to help him, which he did with that pain that I was sorry to see it, and did pity him and give him money after he had done. Then we to see a piece of clockwork made by an Englishman—indeed, very good, wherein all the several states of man’s age, to 100 years old, is shown very pretty and solemne; and several other things more cheerful, and so we ended, and took a link, the women resolving to be dirty, and walked up and down to get a coach; and my wife, being a little before me, had been like to be taken up by one, whom we saw to be Sam Hartlib. My wife had her vizard on: yet we cannot say that he meant any hurt; for it was as she was just by a coach-side, which he had, or had a mind to take up; and he asked her, “Madam, do you go in this coach?” but, soon as he saw a man come to her (I know not whether he knew me) he departed away apace. By and by did get a coach, and so away home, and there to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, where Goodgroome was teaching my wife, and dined with us, and I did tell him of my intention to learn to trill, which he will not promise I shall obtain, but he will do what can be done, and I am resolved to learn. All the afternoon at the office, and towards night out by coach with my wife, she to the ’Change, and I to see the price of a copper cisterne for the table, which is very pretty, and they demand £6 or £7 for one; but I will have one. Then called my wife at the ’Change, and bought a nightgown for my wife: cost but 24s., and so out to Mile End to drink, and so home to the office to end my letters, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and walked to St. James’s; but there I find Sir W. Coventry gone from his chamber, and Mr. Wren not yet come thither. But I up to the Duke of York, and there, after being ready, my Lord Brouncker and I had an audience, and thence with my Lord Brouncker to Whitehall, and he told me, in discourse, how that, though it is true that Sir W. Coventry did long since propose to the Duke of York the leaving his service, as being unable to fulfill it, as he should do, now he hath so much public business, and that the Duke of York did bid him to say nothing of it, but that he would take time to please himself in another to come in his place; yet the Duke’s doing it at this time, declaring that he hath found out another, and this one of the Chancellor’s servants, he cannot but think was done with some displeasure, and that it could not well be otherwise, that the Duke of York should keep one in that place, that had so eminently opposed him in the defence of his father-in-law, nor could the Duchess ever endure the sight of him, to be sure. But he thinks that the Duke of York and he are parted upon clear terms of friendship. He tells me he do believe that my Lady Castlemayne is compounding with the King for a pension, and to leave the Court; but that her demands are mighty high: but he believes the King is resolved, and so do everybody else I speak with, to do all possible to please the Parliament; and he do declare that he will deliver everybody up to them to give an account of their actions: and that last Friday, it seems, there was an Act of Council passed, to put out all Papists in office, and to keep out any from coming in. I went to the King’s Chapel to the closet, and there I hear Cresset3625 sing a tenor part along with the Church music very handsomely, but so loud that people did laugh at him, as a thing done for ostentation. Here I met Sir G. Downing, who would speak with me, and first to inquire what I paid for my kid’s leather gloves I had on my hand, and showed me others on his, as handsome, as good in all points, cost him but 12d. a pair, and mine me 2s. He told me he had been seven years finding out a man that could dress English sheepskin as it should be—and, indeed, it is now as good, in all respects, as kid, and he says will save £100,000 a-year, that goes out to France for kid’s skins. Thus he labours very worthily to advance our own trade, but do it with mighty vanity and talking. But then he told me of our base condition, in the treaty with Holland and France, about our prisoners, that whereas before we did clear one another’s prisoners, man for man, and we upon the publication of the peace did release all our’s, 300 at Leith, and others in other places for nothing, the Dutch do keep theirs, and will not discharge them with[out] paying their debts according to the Treaty. That his instruments in Holland, writing to our Embassadors about this to Bredagh, they answer them that they do not know of anything that they have done therein, but left it just as it was before. To which, when they answer, that by the treaty their Lordships had [not] bound our countrymen to pay their debts in prison, they answer they cannot help it, and we must get them off as cheap as we can. On this score, they demand £1,100 for Sir G. Ascue, and £5,000 for the one province of Zealand, for the prisoners that we have therein. He says that this is a piece of shame that never any nation committed, and that our very Lords here of the Council, when he related this matter to them, did not remember that they had agreed to this article; and swears that all their articles are alike, as the giving away Polleroon, and Surinam, and Nova Scotia, which hath a river 300 miles up the country, with copper mines more than Swedeland, and Newcastle coals,3626 the only place in America that hath coals that we know of; and that Cromwell did value those places, and would forever have made much of them; but we have given them away for nothing, besides a debt to the King of Denmark. But, which is most of all, they have discharged those very particular demands of merchants of the Guinea Company and others, which he, when he was there, had adjusted with the Dutch, and come to an agreement in writing, and they undertaken to satisfy, and that this was done in black and white under their hands; and yet we have forgiven all these, and not so much as sent to Sir G. Downing to know what he had done, or to confer with him about any one point of the treaty, but signed to what they would have, and we here signed to whatever in grosse was brought over by Mr. Coventry. And [Sir G. Downing] tells me, just in these words, “My Lord Chancellor had a mind to keep himself from being questioned by clapping up a peace upon any terms.” When I answered that there was other privy-councillors to be advised with besides him, and that, therefore, this whole peace could not be laid to his charge, he answered that nobody durst say anything at the council-table but himself, and that the King was as much afeard of saying anything there as the meanest privy-councillor; and says more, that at this day the King, in familiar talk, do call the Chancellor “the insolent man,” and says that he would not let him speak himself in Council: which is very high, and do show that the Chancellor is like to be in a bad state, unless he can defend himself better than people think. And yet Creed tells me that he do hear that my Lord Cornbury3627 do say that his father do long for the coming of the Parliament, in order to his own vindication, more than any one of his enemies. And here it comes into my head to set down what Mr. Rawlinson, whom I met in Fenchurch Street on Friday last, looking over his ruines there, told me, that he was told by one of my Lord Chancellor’s gentlemen lately (⸻ by name), that a grant coming to him to be sealed, wherein the King hath given her [Lady Castlemaine], or somebody by her means, a place which he did not like well of, he did stop the grant; saying, that he thought this woman would sell everything shortly: which she hearing of, she sent to let him know that she had disposed of this place, and did not doubt, in a little time, to dispose of his. This Rawlinson do tell me my Lord Chancellor’s own gentleman did tell him himself. Thence, meeting Creed, I with him to the Park, there to walk a little, and to the Queen’s Chapel and there hear their music, which I liked in itself pretty well as to the composition, but their voices are very harsh and rough that I thought it was some instruments they had that made them sound so. So to Whitehall, and saw the King and Queen at dinner; and observed (which I never did before), the formality, but it is but a formality, of putting a bit of bread wiped upon each dish into the mouth of every man that brings a dish;3628 but it should be in the sauce. Here were some Russes come to see the King at dinner: among others, the interpreter, a comely Englishman, in the Envoy’s own clothes; which the Envoy, it seems, in vanity did send to show his fine clothes upon this man’s back, which is one, it seems, of a comelier presence than himself: and yet it is said that none of their clothes are their own, but taken out of the King’s own Wardrobe; and which they dare not bring back dirty or spotted, but clean, or are in danger of being beaten, as they say: insomuch that, Sir Charles Cotterell3629 says, when they are to have an audience they never venture to put on their clothes till he appears to come to fetch them; and, as soon as ever they come home, put them off again. I to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner; where Mr. Cofferer Ashburnham; who told a good story of a prisoner’s being condemned at Salisbury for a small matter. While he was on the bench with his father-in-law, Judge Richardson,3630 and while they were considering to transport him to save his life, the fellow flung a great stone at the judge, that missed him, but broke through the wainscoat. Upon this, he had his hand cut off, and was hanged presently.3631 Here was a gentleman, one Sheres, one come lately from my Lord Sandwich, with an express; but, Lord! I was almost ashamed to see him, lest he should know that I have not yet wrote one letter to my Lord since his going. I had no discourse with him, but after dinner Sir G. Carteret and I to talk about some business of his, and so I to Mrs. Martin, where was Mrs. Burroughs, and also fine Mrs. Noble, my partner in the christening of Martin’s child, did come to see it, and there we sat and talked an hour, and then all broke up and I by coach home, and there find Mr. Pelling and Howe, and we to sing and good music till late, and then to supper, and Howe lay at my house, and so after supper to bed with much content, only my mind a little troubled at my late breach of vowes, which however I will pay my forfeits, though the badness of my eyes, making me unfit to read or write long, is my excuse, and do put me upon other pleasures and employment which I should refrain from in observation of my vowes.
. Up; and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon comes Creed to dine with me. After dinner, he and I and my wife to the Bear-Garden, to see a prize fought there. But, coming too soon, I left them there and went on to Whitehall, and there did some business with the Lords of the Treasury; and here do hear, by Tom Killigrew and Mr. Progers, that for certain news is come of Harman’s having spoiled nineteen of twenty-two French ships, somewhere about the Barbados, I think they said; but wherever it is, it is a good service, and very welcome. Here I fell in talk with Tom Killigrew about music, and he tells me that he will bring me to the best music in England (of which, indeed, he is master), and that is two Italians and Mrs. Yates, who, he says, is come to sing the Italian manner as well as ever he heard any: says that Knepp won’t take pains enough, but that she understands her part so well upon the stage, that no man or woman in the House do the like. Thence I by water to the Bear-Garden, where now the yard was full of people, and those most of them seamen, striving by force to get in, that I was afeard to be seen among them, but got into the alehouse, and so by a back-way was put into the bull-house, where I stood a good while all alone among the bulls, and was afeard I was among the bears, too; but by and by the door opened, and I got into the common pit; and there, with my cloak about my face, I stood and saw the prize fought, till one of them, a shoemaker, was so cut in both his wrists that he could not fight any longer, and then they broke off: his enemy was a butcher. The sport very good, and various humours to be seen among the rabble that is there. Thence carried Creed to Whitehall, and there my wife and I took coach and home, and both of us to Sir W. Batten’s, to invite them to dinner on Wednesday next, having a whole buck come from Hampton Court, by the warrant which Sir Stephen Fox did give me. And so home to supper and to bed, after a little playing on the flageolet with my wife, who do outdo therein whatever I expected of her.
. Up, and all the morning at the Office, where little to do but bemoan ourselves under the want of money; and indeed little is, or can be done, for want of money, we having not now received one penny for any service in many weeks, and none in view to receive, saving for paying of some seamen’s wages. At noon sent to by my Lord Brouncker to speak with him, and it was to dine with him and his Lady Williams (which I have not now done in many months at their own table) and Mr. Wren, who is come to dine with them, the first time he hath been at the office since his being the Duke of York’s Secretary. Here we sat and eat and talked and of some matters of the office, but his discourse is as yet but weak in that matter, and no wonder, he being new in it, but I fear he will not go about understanding with the impatience that Sir W. Coventry did. Having dined, I away, and with my wife and Mercer, set my wife down at the ’Change, and the other at Whitehall, and I to St. James’s, where we all met, and did our usual weekly business with the Duke of York. But, Lord! methinks both he and we are mighty flat and dull over what we used to be, when Sir W. Coventry was among us. Thence I into St. James’s Park, and there met Mr. Povy; and he and I to walk an hour or more in the Pell Mell, talking of the times. He tells me, among other things, that this business of the Chancellor do breed a kind of inward distance between the King and the Duke of York, and that it cannot be avoided; for though the latter did at first move it through his folly, yet he is made to see that he is wounded by it, and is become much a less man than he was, and so will be: but he tells me that they are, and have always been, great dissemblers one towards another; and that their parting heretofore in France3632 is never to be thoroughly reconciled between them. He tells me that he believes there is no such thing like to be, as a composition with my Lady Castlemayne, and that she shall be got out of the way before the Parliament comes; for he says she is as high as ever she was, though he believes the King is as weary of her as is possible, and would give anything to remove her, but he is so weak in his passion that he dare not do it; that he do believe that my Lord Chancellor will be doing some acts in the Parliament which shall render him popular; and that there are many people now do speak kindly of him that did not before; but that, if he do do this, it must provoke the King, and that party that removed him. He seems to doubt what the King of France will do, in case an accommodation shall be made between Spain and him for Flanders, for then he will have nothing more easy to do with his army than to subdue us. Parted with him at Whitehall, and, there I took coach and took up my wife and Mercer, and so home and I to the office, where ended my letters, and then to my chamber with my boy to lay up some papers and things that lay out of order against tomorrow, to make it clear against the feast that I am to have. Here Mr. Pelling come to sit with us, and talked of music and the musicians of the town, and so to bed, after supper.
. Up, and with Mr. Gawden to the Exchequer. By the way, he tells me this day he is to be answered whether he must hold Sheriffe or no; for he would not hold unless he may keep it at his office, which is out of the city (and so my Lord Mayor must come with his sword down, whenever he comes thither), which he do, because he cannot get a house fit for him in the city, or else he will fine for it. Among others that they have in nomination for Sheriffe, one is little Chaplin,3633 who was his servant, and a very young man to undergo that place; but as the city is now, there is no great honour nor joy to be had, in being a public officer. At the Exchequer I looked after my business, and when done went home to the ’Change, and there bought a case of knives for dinner, and a dish of fruit for 5s., and bespoke other things, and then home, and here I find all things in good order, and a good dinner towards. Anon comes Sir W. Batten and his lady, and Mr. Griffith, their ward, and Sir W. Penn and his lady, and Mrs. Lowther, who is grown, either through pride or want of manners, a fool, having not a word to say almost all dinner; and, as a further mark of a beggarly, proud fool, hath a bracelet of diamonds and rubies about her wrist, and a sixpenny necklace about her neck, and not one good rag of clothes upon her back; and Sir John Chichly in their company, and Mrs. Turner. Here I had an extraordinary good and handsome dinner for them, better than any of them deserve or understand, saving Sir John Chichly and Mrs. Turner, and not much mirth, only what I by discourse made, and that against my genius. After dinner I took occasion to break up the company soon as I could, and all parted, Sir W. Batten and I by water to Whitehall, there to speak with the Commissioners of the Treasury, who are mighty earnest for our hastening all that may be the paying off of the Seamen, now there is money, and are considering many other things for easing of charge, which I am glad of, but vexed to see that J. Duncomb should be so pressing in it as if none of us had like care with him. Having done there, I by coach to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw part of The Ungrateful Lovers;3634 and sat by Beck Marshall, who is very handsome near hand. Here I met Mrs. Turner and my wife as we agreed, and together home, and there my wife and I part of the night at the flageolet, which she plays now anything upon almost at first sight and in good time. But here come Mr. Moore, and sat and discoursed with me of public matters: the sum of which is, that he do doubt that there is more at the bottom than the removal of the Chancellor; that is, he do verily believe that the King do resolve to declare the Duke of Monmouth legitimate, and that we shall soon see it. This I do not think the Duke of York will endure without blows; but his poverty, and being lessened by having the Chancellor fallen and [Sir] W. Coventry gone from him, will disable him from being able to do anything almost, he being himself almost lost in the esteem of people; and will be more and more, unless my Lord Chancellor, who is already begun to be pitied by some people, and to be better thought of than was expected, do recover himself in Parliament. He would seem to fear that this difference about the Crown (if there be nothing else) will undo us. He do say that, that is very true; that my Lord [Chancellor] did lately make some stop of some grants of £2,000 a-year to my Lord Grandison,3635 which was only in his name, for the use of my Lady Castlemaine’s children; and that this did incense her, and she did speak very scornful words, and sent a scornful message to him about it. He gone, after supper, I to bed, being mightily pleased with my wife’s playing so well upon the flageolet, and I am resolved she shall learn to play upon some instrument, for though her ear be bad, yet I see she will attain anything to be done by her hand.
. Up, and at the office all the morning till almost noon, and then I rode from the office (which I have not done five times I think since I come thither) and to the Exchequer for some tallies for Tangier; and that being done, to the Dog tavern, and there I spent half a piece upon the clerks, and so away, and I to Mrs. Martin’s, but she not at home, but stayed and drunk with her sister and landlady, and by that time it was time to go to a play, which I did at the Duke’s house, where Tu Quoque3636 was the first time acted, with some alterations of Sir W. Davenant’s; but the play is a very silly play, methinks; for I, and others that sat by me, Mr. Povy and Mr. Progers, were weary of it; but it will please the citizens. My wife also was there, I having sent for her to meet me there, and W. Hewer. After the play we home, and there I to the office and despatched my business, and then home, and mightily pleased with my wife’s playing on the flageolet, she taking out any tune almost at first sight, and keeping time to it, which pleases me mightily. So to supper and to bed.
. Called up by people come to deliver in ten chaldron of coals, brought in one of our prizes from Newcastle. The rest we intend to sell, we having above ten chaldron between us. They sell at about 28s. or 29s. per chaldron; but Sir W. Batten hath sworn that he was a cuckold that sells under 30s., and that makes us lay up all but what we have for our own spending, which is very pleasant; for I believe we shall be glad to sell them for less. To the office, and there despatched business till ten o’clock, and then with Sir W. Batten and my wife and Mrs. Turner by hackney-coach to Walthamstow, to Mr. Shipman’s to dinner, where Sir W. Penn and my Lady and Mrs. Lowther (the latter of which hath got a sore nose, given her, I believe, from her husband, which made me I could not look upon her with any pleasure), and here a very good and plentiful wholesome dinner, and, above all thing, such plenty of milk meats, she keeping a great dairy, and so good as I never met with. The afternoon proved very foul weather, the morning fair. We stayed talking till evening, and then home, and there to my flageolet with my wife, and so to bed without any supper, my belly being full and dinner not digested. It vexed me to hear how Sir W. Penn, who come alone from London, being to send his coachman for his wife and daughter, and bidding his coachman in much anger to go for them (he being vexed, like a rogue, to do anything to please his wife), his coachman Tom was heard to say a pox, or God rot her, can she walk hither? These words do so mad me that I could find in my heart to give him or my Lady notice of them.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy. At noon comes Mr. Pierce and dined with me to advise about several matters of his relating to the office and his purse, and here he told me that the King and Duke of York and the whole Court is mighty joyful at the Duchess of York’s being brought to bed this day, or yesterday, of a son;3637 which will settle men’s minds mightily. And he tells me that he do think that what the King do, of giving the Duke of Monmouth the command of his Guards, and giving my Lord Gerard £12,000 for it, is merely to find an employment for him upon which he may live, and not out of any design to bring him into any title to the Crown; which Mr. Moore did the other day put me into great fear of. After dinner, he gone, my wife to the King’s playhouse to see The Northerne Castle,3638 which I think I never did see before. Knipp acted in it, and did her part very extraordinary well; but the play is but a mean, sorry play; but the house very full of gallants. It seems, it hath not been acted a good while. Thence to the Exchange for something for my wife, and then home and to the office, and then home to our flageolet, and so to bed, being mightily troubled in mind at the liberty I give myself of going to plays upon pretence of the weakness of my eyes, that cannot continue so long together at work at my office, but I must remedy it.
. Up to my chamber, there to set some papers to rights. By and by to church, where I stood, in continual fear of Mrs. Markham’s coming to church, and offering to come into our pew, to prevent which, soon as ever I heard the great door open, I did step back, and clap my breech to our pew-door, that she might be forced to shove me to come in; but as God would have it, she did not come. Mr. Mills preached, and after sermon, by invitation, he and his wife come to dine with me, which is the first time they have been in my house; I think, these five years, I thinking it not amiss, because of their acquaintance in our country, to show them some respect. Mr. Turner and his wife, and their son the Captain, dined with me, and I had a very good dinner for them, and very merry, and after dinner, he [Mr. Mills] was forced to go, though it rained, to Stepney, to preach. We also to church, and then home, and there comes Mr. Pelling, with two men,3639 by promise, one Wallington and Piggott, the former whereof, being a very little fellow, did sing a most excellent bass, and yet a poor fellow, a working goldsmith, that goes without gloves to his hands. Here we sung several good things, but I am more and more confirmed that singing with many voices is not singing, but a sort of instrumental music, the sense of the words being lost by not being heard, and especially as they set them with Fuges of words, one after another, whereas singing properly, I think, should be but with one or two voices at most and the counterpoint. They supped with me, and so broke up, and then my wife and I to my chamber, where, through the badness of my eyes, she was forced to read to me, which she do very well, and was Mr. Boyle’s discourse upon the style of the Scripture,3640 which is a very fine piece, and so to bed.
. Up, and several come to me, among others Mr. Yeabsly of Plymouth, to discourse about their matters touching Tangier, and by and by Sir H. Cholmly, who was with me a good while; who tells me that the Duke of York’s child is christened, the Duke of Albemarle and the Marquis of Worcester3641 godfathers, and my Lady Suffolk godmother; and they have named it Edgar, which is a brave name. But it seems they are more joyful in the Chancellor’s family, at the birth of this Prince, than in wisdom they should, for fear it should give the King cause of jealousy. Sir H. Cholmly do not seem to think there is any such thing can be in the King’s intention as that of raising the Duke of Monmouth to the Crown, though he thinks there may possibly be some persons that would, and others that would be glad to have the Queen removed to some monastery, or somewhere or other, to make room for a new wife; for they will all be unsafe under the Duke of York. He says the King and Parliament will agree; that is, that the King will do anything that they will have him. We together to the Exchequer about our Tangier orders, and so parted at the New Exchange,3642 where I stayed reading Mrs. Phillips’s poems till my wife and Mercer called me to Mrs. Pierce’s, by invitation to dinner, where I find her painted, which makes me loathe her, and the nastiest poor dinner that made me sick, only here I met with a Fourth Advice to the Painter upon the coming in of the Dutch to the River and end of the war, that made my heart ache to read, it being too sharp, and so true. Here I also saw a printed account of the examinations taken, touching the burning of the City of London, showing the plot of the Papists therein; which, it seems, hath been ordered and to have been burnt by the hands of the hangman, in Westminster Palace. I will try to get one of them. After dinner she showed us her closet, which is pretty, with her James’s picture done by Hales, but with a mighty bad hand, which is his great fault that he do do negligently, and the drapery also not very good. Being tired of being here, and sick of their damned sluttish dinner, my wife and Mercer and I away to the King’s playhouse, to see the Scornful Lady; but it being now three o’clock there was not one soul in the pit; whereupon, for shame, we would not go in, but, against our wills, went all to see Tu Quoque again, where there is a pretty store of company, and going with a prejudice the play appeared better to us. Here we saw Madam Morland,3643 who is grown mighty fat, but is very comely. But one of the best arts of our sport was a mighty pretty lady that sat behind, that did laugh so heartily and constantly, that it did me good to hear her. Thence to the King’s house, upon a wager of mine with my wife, that there would be no acting there today, there being no company: so I went in and found a pretty good company there, and saw their dance at the end of he play, and so to the coach again, and to the Cock ale house, and there drank in our coach, and so home, and my wife read to me as last night, and so to bed vexed with our dinner today, and myself more with being convinced that Mrs. Pierce paints, so that henceforth to be sure I shall loathe her.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, where Mr. Wren come to us and sat with us, only to learn, and do intend to come once or twice a week and sit with us. In the afternoon walked to the Old Swan, the way mighty dirty, and there called at Michell’s, and there had opportunity para kiss su moher, but elle did receive it with a great deal of seeming regret, which did vex me. But however I do not doubt overcoming her as I did the moher of the monsieur at Deptford. So thence by water to Westminster, to Burgess, and there did receive my orders for £1,500 more for Tangier. Thence to the Hall, and there talked a little with Mrs. Michell, and so to Mrs. Martin’s to pay for my cuffs and drink with her. … And by and by away by coach and met with Sir H. Cholmly, and with him to the Temple, and there in Playford’s shop did give him some of my Exchequer orders and took his receipts, and so parted and home, and there to my business hard at the office, and then home, my wife being at Mrs. Turner’s, who and her husband come home with her, and here stayed and talked and stayed late, and then went away and we to bed. But that which vexed me much this evening is that Captain Cocke and Sir W. Batten did come to me, and sat, and drank a bottle of wine, and told me how Sir W. Penn hath got an order for the Flying Greyhound3644 for himself, which is so false a thing, and the part of a knave, as nothing almost can be more. This vexed me; but I resolve to bring it before the Duke, and try a pull for it.
. Up betimes and to Captain Cocke, in his coach which he sent for me, and he not being ready I walked in the Exchange, which is now made pretty, by having windows and doors before all their shops, to keep out the cold. By and by to him, and he being ready, he and I out in his coach to my Lord Chancellor’s; there to Mr. Wren’s chamber, who did tell us the whole of Sir W. Penn’s having the order for this ship of ours, and we went with him to St. James’s, and there I did see the copy of it, which is built upon a suggestion of his having given the King a ship of his, The Prosperous, wherein is such a cheat as I have the best advantage in the world over him, and will make him do reason, or lay him on his back. This I was very glad of, and having done as far as I could in it we returned, and I home, and there at the office all the morning, and at noon with my Lord Brouncker to the Treasurer’s office to look over the clerks who are there making up the books, but in such a manner as it is a shame to see. Then home to dinner, and after dinner, my mind mighty full of this business of Sir W. Penn’s, to the office, and there busy all the afternoon. This evening Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Penn and I met at [Sir] W. Batten’s house, and there I took an opportunity to break the business, at which [Sir] W. Penn is much disturbed, and would excuse it the most he can, but do it so basely, that though he do offer to let go his pretence to her, and resign up his order for her, and come in only to ask his share of her (which do very well please me, and give me present satisfaction), yet I shall remember him for a knave while I live. But thus my mind is quieted for the present more than I thought I should be, and am glad that I shall have no need of bidding him open defiance, which I would otherwise have done, and made a perpetual war between us. So to the office, and there busy pretty late, and so home and to supper with my wife, and so to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, W. Hewer and I and my wife, when comes my cousin, Kate Joyce, and an aunt of ours, Lettice, formerly Haynes, and now Howlett, come to town to see her friends, and also Sarah Kite, with her little boy in her armes, a very pretty little boy. The child I like very well, and could wish it my own. My wife being all unready, did not appear. I made as much of them as I could such ordinary company; and yet my heart was glad to see them, though their condition was a little below my present state, to be familiar with. She tells me how the lifeguard, which we thought a little while since was sent down into the country about some insurrection, was sent to Winchcombe, to spoil the tobacco there, which it seems the people there do plant contrary to law, and have always done, and still been under force and danger of having it spoiled, as it hath been oftentimes, and yet they will continue to plant it.3645 The place, she says, is a miserable poor place. They gone, I to the office, where all the afternoon very busy, and at night, when my eyes were weary of the light, I and my wife to walk in the garden, and then home to supper and pipe, and then to bed.
. At the office doing business all the morning. At noon expected Creed to have come to dine with me and brought Mr. Sheres (the gentleman lately come from my Lord Sandwich) with him; but they come not, so there was a good dinner lost. After dinner my wife and Jane about some business of hers abroad, and then I to the office, where, having done my business, I out to pay some debts: among others to the tavern at the end of Billiter Lane, where my design was to see the pretty mistress of the house, which I did, and indeed is, as I always thought, one of the modestest, prettiest, plain women that ever I saw. Thence was met in the street by Sir W. Penn, and he and I by coach to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Mad Couple,3646 which I do not remember that I have seen; it is a pretty pleasant play. Thence home, and my wife and I to walk in the garden, she having been at the same play with Jane, in the 18d. seat, to show Jane the play, and so home to supper and to bed.
. All the morning at the office, dined at home, and expected Sheres again, but he did not come, so another dinner lost by the folly of Creed. After having done some business at the office, I out with my wife to Sheres’s lodging and left an invitation for him to dine with me tomorrow, and so back and took up my wife at the Exchange, and then kissed Mrs. Smith’s pretty hand, and so with my wife by coach to take some air (but the way very dirty) as far as Bow, and so drinking (as usual) at Mile End of Byde’s ale, we home and there busy at my letters till late, and so to walk by moonshine with my wife, and so to bed. The King, Duke of York, and the men of the Court, have been these four or five days a-hunting at Bagshot.
. At my chamber all the morning making up some accounts, to my great content. At noon comes Mr. Sheres, whom I find a good, ingenious man, but do talk a little too much of his travels. He left my Lord Sandwich well, but in pain to be at home for want of money, which comes very hardly. Most of the afternoon talking of Spain, and informing him against his return how things are here, and so spent most of the afternoon, and then he parted, and then to my chamber busy till my eyes were almost blind with writing and reading, and I was fain to get the boy to come and write for me, and then to supper, and Pelling come to me at supper, and then to sing a Psalm with him, and so parted and to bed, after my wife had read some thing to me (to save my eyes) in a good book. This night I did even my accounts of the house, which I have to my great shame omitted now above two months or more, and therefore am content to take my wife’s and maid’s accounts as they give them, being not able to correct them, which vexes me; but the fault being my own, contrary to my wife’s frequent desires, I cannot find fault, but am resolved never to let them come to that pass again. The truth is, I have indulged myself more in pleasure for these last two months than ever I did in my life before, since I come to be a person concerned in business; and I doubt, when I come to make up my accounts, I shall find it so by the expense.
. Up, and walked to the Exchange, there to get a coach but failed, and so was forced to walk a most dirty walk to the Old Swan, and there took boat, and so to the Exchange, and there took coach to St. James’s and did our usual business with the Duke of York. Thence I walked over the Park to Whitehall and took water to Westminster, and there, among other things, bought the examinations of the business about the Fire of London, which is a book that Mrs. Pierce tells me hath been commanded to be burnt.3647 The examinations indeed are very plain. Thence to the Excise office, and so to the Exchange, and did a little business, and so home and took up my wife, and so carried her to the other end, where I ’light at my Lord Ashly’s, by invitation,3648 to dine there, which I did, and Sir H. Cholmly, Creed, and Yeabsly, upon occasion of the business of Yeabsly, who, God knows, do bribe him very well for it; and it is pretty to see how this great man do condescend to these things, and do all he can in his examining of his business to favour him, and yet with great cunning not to be discovered but by me that am privy to it. At table it is worth remembering that my Lord tells us that the House of Lords is the last appeal that a man can make, upon a poynt of interpretation of the law, and that therein they are above the judges; and that he did assert this in the Lords’ House upon the late occasion of the quarrel between my Lord Bristoll and the Chancellor, when the former did accuse the latter of treason, and the judges did bring it in not to be treason: my Lord Ashly did declare that the judgment of the judges was nothing in the presence of their Lordships, but only as far as they were the properest men to bring precedents; but not to interpret the law to their Lordships, but only the inducements of their persuasions: and this the Lords did concur in. Another pretty thing was my Lady Ashly’s3649 speaking of the bad qualities of glass-coaches; among others, the flying open of the doors upon any great shake: but another was, that my Lady Peterborough being in her glass-coach, with the glass up, and seeing a lady pass by in a coach whom she would salute, the glass was so clear, that she thought it had been open, and so ran her head through the glass, and cut all her forehead!3650 After dinner, before we fell to the examination of Yeabsly’s business, we were put into my Lord’s room before he could come to us, and there had opportunity to look over his state of his accounts of the prizes; and there saw how bountiful the King hath been to several people and hardly any man almost, Commander of the Navy of any note, but hath had some reward or other out of it; and many sums to the Privy-purse, but not so many, I see, as I thought there had been: but we could not look quite through it. But several Bedchamber-men and people about the Court had good sums; and, among others, Sir John Minnes and Lord Brouncker have £200 apiece for looking to the East India prizes, while I did their work for them. By and by my Lord come, and we did look over Yeabsly’s business a little; and I find how prettily this cunning Lord can be partial and dissemble it in this case, being privy to the bribe he is to receive. This done, we away, and with Sir H. Cholmly to Westminster; who by the way told me how merry the king and Duke of York and Court were the other day, when they were abroad a-hunting. They come to Sir G. Carteret’s house at Cranbourne, and there were entertained, and all made drunk; and that all being drunk, Armerer3651 did come to the King, and swore to him, “By God, Sir,” says he, “you are not so kind to the Duke of York of late as you used to be.”—“Not I?” says the King. “Why so?”—“Why,” says he, “if you are, let us drink his health.”—“Why, let us,” says the King. Then he fell on his knees, and drank it; and having done, the King began to drink it. “Nay, Sir,” says Armerer, “by God you must do it on your knees!” So he did, and then all the company: and having done it, all fell a-crying for joy, being all maudlin and kissing one another, the King the Duke of York, and the Duke of York the King: and in such a maudlin pickle as never people were: and so passed the day. But Sir H. Cholmly tells me, that the King hath this good luck, that the next day he hates to have anybody mention what he had done the day before, nor will suffer anybody to gain upon him that way; which is a good quality. Parted with Sir H. Cholmly at Whitehall, and there I took coach and took up my wife at Unthanke’s, and so out for air, it being a mighty pleasant day, as far as Bow, and so drank by the way, and home, and there to my chamber till by and by comes Captain Cocke about business; who tells me that Mr. Brouncker is lost forever, notwithstanding my Lord Brouncker hath advised with him, Cocke, how he might make a peace with the Duke of York and Chancellor, upon promise of serving him in the Parliament but Cocke says that is base to offer, and will have no success neither. He says that Mr. Wren hath refused a present of Tom Wilson’s for his place of Storekeeper of Chatham, and is resolved never to take anything; which is both wise in him, and good to the King’s service. He stayed with me very late, here being Mrs. Turner and W. Batelier drinking and laughing, and then to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning very busy. At noon home, where there dined with me Anthony Joyce and his wife, and Will and his wife, and my aunt Lucett, that was here the other day, and Sarah Kite, and I had a good dinner for them, and were as merry as I could be in that company where W. Joyce is, who is still the same impertinent fellow that ever he was. After dinner I away to St. James’s, where we had an audience of the Duke of York of many things of weight, as the confirming an establishment of the numbers of men on ships in peace and other things of weight, about which we stayed till past candlelight, and so Sir W. Batten and W. Penn and I fain to go all in a hackney-coach round by London Wall, for fear of cellars, this being the first time I have been forced to go that way this year, though now I shall begin to use it. We tired one coach upon Holborne-Conduit Hill, and got another, and made it a long journey home. Where to the office and then home, and at my business till twelve at night, writing in short hand the draught of a report to make to the King and Council tomorrow, about the reason of not having the book of the Treasurer made up. This I did finish tonight to the spoiling of my eyes, I fear. This done, then to bed. This evening my wife tells me that W. Batelier hath been here today, and brought with him the pretty girl he speaks of, to come to serve my wife as a woman, out of the school at Bow. My wife says she is extraordinary handsome, and inclines to have her, and I am glad of it—at least, that if we must have one, she should be handsome. But I shall leave it wholly to my wife, to do what she will therein.
. Up as soon as I could see and to the office to write over fair with Mr. Hater my last night’s work, which I did by nine o’clock, and got it signed, and so with Sir H. Cholmly, who come to me about his business, to Whitehall: and thither come also my Lord Brouncker: and we by and by called in, and our paper read; and much discourse thereon by Sir G. Carteret, my Lord Anglesey, Sir W. Coventry, and my Lord Ashly, and myself: but I could easily discern that they none of them understood the business; and the King at last ended it with saying lazily, “Why,” says he, “after all this discourse, I now come to understand it; and that is, that there can nothing be done in this more than is possible,” which was so silly as I never heard: “and therefore,” says he, “I would have these gentlemen to do as much as possible to hasten the Treasurer’s accounts; and that is all.” And so we broke up: and I confess I went away ashamed, to see how slightly things are advised upon there. Here I saw the Duke of Buckingham sit in Council again, where he was re-admitted, it seems, the last Council-day: and it is wonderful to see how this man is come again to his places, all of them, after the reproach and disgrace done him: so that things are done in a most foolish manner quite through. The Duke of Buckingham did second Sir W. Coventry in the advising the King that he would not concern himself in the owning or not owning any man’s accounts, or anything else, wherein he had not the same satisfaction that would satisfy the Parliament; saying, that nothing would displease the Parliament more than to find him defending anything that is not right, nor justifiable to the utmost degree but methought he spoke it but very poorly. After this, I walked up and down the Gallery till noon; and here I met with Bishop Fuller, who, to my great joy, is made, which I did not hear before, Bishop of Lincoln.3652 At noon I took coach, and to Sir G. Carteret’s, in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, to the house that is my Lord’s, which my Lord lets him have: and this is the first day of dining there. And there dined with him and his lady my Lord Privy-seale,3653 who is indeed a very sober man; who, among other talk, did mightily wonder at the reason of the growth of the credit of banquiers, since it is so ordinary a thing for citizens to break, out of knavery. Upon this we had much discourse; and I observed therein, to the honour of this City, that I have not heard of one citizen of London broke in all this war, this plague, this fire, and this coming up of the enemy among us; which he owned to be very considerable.3654 After dinner I to the King’s playhouse, my eyes being so bad since last night’s straining of them, that I am hardly able to see, besides the pain which I have in them. The play was a new play; and infinitely full: the King and all the Court almost there. It is The Storme, a play of Fletcher’s;3655 which is but so-so, methinks; only there is a most admirable dance at the end, of the ladies, in a military manner, which indeed did please me mightily. So, it being a mighty wet day and night, I with much ado got a coach, and, with twenty stops which he made, I got him to carry me quite through, and paid dear for it, and so home, and there comes my wife home from the Duke of York’s playhouse, where she hath been with my aunt and Kate Joyce, and so to supper, and betimes to bed, to make amends for my last night’s work and want of sleep.
. Up, and to my chamber, whither Jonas Moore comes, and, among other things, after our business done, discoursing of matters of the office, I showed him my varnished things, which he says he can outdo much, and tells me the mighty use of Napier’s bones;3656 so that I will have a pair presently. To the office, where busy all the morning sitting, and at noon home to dinner, and then with my wife abroad to the King’s playhouse, to show her yesterday’s new play, which I like as I did yesterday, the principal thing extraordinary being the dance, which is very good. So to Charing Cross by coach, about my wife’s business, and then home round by London Wall, it being very dark and dirty, and so to supper, and, for the ease of my eyes, to bed, having first ended all my letters at the office.
. Up, and to the office, where very busy all the morning. While I was busy at the Office, my wife sends for me to come home, and what was it but to see the pretty girl which she is taking to wait upon her: and though she seems not altogether so great a beauty as she had before told me, yet indeed she is mighty pretty; and so pretty, that I find I shall be too much pleased with it, and therefore could be contented as to my judgement, though not to my passion, that she might not come, lest I may be found too much minding her, to the discontent of my wife. She is to come next week. She seems, by her discourse, to be grave beyond her bigness and age, and exceeding well bred as to her deportment, having been a scholar in a school at Bow these seven or eight years. To the office again, my head running on this pretty girl, and there till noon, when Creed and Sheres come and dined with me; and we had a great deal of pretty discourse of the ceremoniousness of the Spaniards, whose ceremonies are so many and so known, that, Sheres tells me, upon all occasions of joy or sorrow in a Grandee’s family, my Lord Embassador is fain to send one with an en hora buena, if it be upon a marriage, or birth of a child, or a pesa me, if it be upon the death of a child, or so. And these ceremonies are so set, and the words of the compliment, that he hath been sent from my Lord, when he hath done no more than send in word to the Grandee that one was there from the Embassador; and he knowing what was his errand, that hath been enough, and he never spoken with him: nay, several Grandees having been to marry a daughter, have wrote letters to my Lord to give him notice, and out of the greatness of his wisdom to desire his advice, though people he never saw; and then my Lord he answers by commending the greatness of his discretion in making so good an alliance, etc., and so ends. He says that it is so far from dishonour to a man to give private revenge for an affront, that the contrary is a disgrace; they holding that he that receives an affront is not fit to appear in the sight of the world till he hath revenged himself; and therefore, that a gentleman there that receives an affront oftentimes never appears again in the world till he hath, by some private way or other, revenged himself: and that, on this account, several have followed their enemies privately to the Indies, thence to Italy, thence to France and back again, watching for an opportunity to be revenged. He says my Lord was fain to keep a letter from the Duke of York to the Queen of Spain a great while in his hands, before he could think fit to deliver it, till he had learnt whether the Queen would receive it, it being directed to his cousin. He says that many ladies in Spain, after they are found to be with child, do never stir out of their beds or chambers till they are brought to bed: so ceremonious they are in that point also. He tells me of their wooing by serenades at the window, and that their friends do always make the match; but yet that they have opportunities to meet at masse at church, and there they make love: that the Court there hath no dancing, nor visits at night to see the King or Queen, but is always just like a cloister, nobody stirring in it: that my Lord Sandwich wears a beard now, turned up in the Spanish manner. But that which pleases me most indeed is, that the peace which he hath made with Spain is now printed here, and is acknowledged by all the merchants to be the best peace that ever England had with them: and it appears that the King thinks it so, for this is printed before the ratification is gone over; whereas that with France and Holland was not in a good while after, till copies come over of it in English out of Holland and France, that it was a reproach not to have it printed here. This I am mighty glad of; and is the first and only piece of good news, or thing fit to be owned, that this nation hath done several years. After dinner I to the office, and they gone, anon comes Pelling, and he and I to Gray’s Inne Fields, thinking to have heard Mrs. Knight sing at her lodgings, by a friend’s means of his;3657 but we come too late; so must try another time. So lost our labour, and I by coach home, and there to my chamber, and did a great deal of good business about my Tangier accounts, and so with pleasure discoursing with my wife of our journey shortly to Brampton, and of this little girl, which indeed runs in my head, and pleases me mightily, though I dare not own it, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, having slept not so much tonight as I used to do, for my thoughts being so full of this pretty little girl that is coming to live with us, which pleases me mightily. All the morning at the Office, busy upon an Order of Council, wherein they are mightily at a loss what to advise about our discharging of seamen by ticket, there being no money to pay their wages before January, only there is money to pay them since January, provided by the Parliament, which will be a horrid disgrace to the King and Crown of England that no man shall reckon himself safe, but where the Parliament takes care. And this did move Mr. Wren at the table today to say, that he did believe if ever there be occasion more to raise money, it will become here, as it is in Poland, that there are two treasurers—one for the King, and the other for the kingdom. At noon dined at home, and Mr. Hater with me, and Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, dropped in, who I feared did come to bespeak me to be godfather to his son, which I am unwilling now to be, having ended my liking to his wife, since I find she paints. After dinner comes Sir Fr. Hollis to me about business; and I with him by coach to the Temple, and there I ’light; all the way he telling me romantic lies of himself and his family, how they have been Parliamentmen for Grimsby, he and his forefathers, this 140 years; and his father is now: and himself, at this day, stands for to be, with his father,3658 by the death of his fellow-burgess; and that he believes it will cost him as much as it did his predecessor, which was £300 in ale, and £52 in buttered ale; which I believe is one of his devilish lies. Here I ’light and to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw a piece of Sir Martin Marrall, with great delight, though I have seen it so often, and so home, and there busy late, and so home to my supper and bed.
. Up, and put off first my summer’s silk suit, and put on a cloth one. Then to church, and so home to dinner, my wife and I alone to a good dinner. All the afternoon talking in my chamber with my wife, about my keeping a coach the next year, and doing some things to my house, which will cost money—that is, furnish our best chamber with tapestry, and other rooms with pictures. In the evening read good books—my wife to me; and I did even my kitchen accounts. Then to supper, and so to bed.
. By water to Whitehall, there to a committee of Tangier, but they not met yet, I went to St. James’s, there thinking to have opportunity to speak to the Duke of York about the petition I have to make to him for something in reward for my service this war, but I did waive it. Thence to Whitehall, and there a Committee met, where little was done, and thence to the Duke of York to Council, where we the officers of the Navy did attend about the business of discharging the seamen by tickets, where several of the Lords spoke and of our number none but myself, which I did in such manner as pleased the King and Council. Speaking concerning the difficulty of pleasing of seamen and giving them assurance to their satisfaction that they should be paid their arrears of wages, my Lord Ashly did move that an assignment for money on the Act might be put into the hands of the East India Company, or City of London, which he thought the seamen would believe. But this my Lord Anglesey did very handsomely oppose, and I think did carry it that it will not be: and it is indeed a mean thing that the King should so far own his own want of credit as to borrow theirs in this manner. My Lord Anglesey told him that this was the way indeed to teach the Parliament to trust the King no more for the time to come, but to have a kingdom’s Treasurer distinct from the King’s. Home at noon to dinner, where I expected to have had our new girl, my wife’s woman, but she is not yet come. I abroad after dinner to Whitehall, and there among other things do hear that there will be music tomorrow night before the King. So to Westminster, where to the Swan … and drank and away to the Hall, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s, to bespeak some linen, and there je did avoir all with her, and drank, and away, having first promised my goddaughter a new coat-her first coat. So by coach home, and there find our pretty girl Willet come, brought by Mr. Batelier, and she is very pretty, and so grave as I never saw a little thing in my life. Indeed I think her a little too good for my family, and so well carriaged as I hardly ever saw. I wish my wife may use her well. Now I begin to be full of thought for my journey the next week, if I can get leave, to Brampton. Tonight come and sat with me Mr. Turner and his wife and tell me of a design of sending their son Franke to the East Indy Company’s service if they can get him entertainment, which they are promised by Sir Andr. Rickard, which I do very well like of. So the company broke up and to bed.
October 1667
. All the morning busy at the office, pleased mightily with my girl that we have got to wait on my wife. At noon dined with Sir G. Carteret and the rest of our officers at his house in Broad Street, they being there upon his accounts. After dinner took coach and to my wife, who was gone before into the Strand, there to buy a nightgown, where I found her in a shop with her pretty girl, and having bought it away home, and I thence to Sir G. Carteret’s again, and so took coach alone, it now being almost night, to Whitehall, and there in the Boarded-gallery did hear the music with which the King is presented this night by Monsieur Grebus, the master of his music; both instrumentall—I think twenty-four violins—and vocall; an English song upon Peace. But, God forgive me! I never was so little pleased with a concert of music in my life. The manner of setting of words and repeating them out of order, and that with a number of voices, makes me sick, the whole design of vocall music being lost by it. Here was a great press of people; but I did not see many pleased with it, only the instrumental music he had brought by practice to play very just. So thence late in the dark round by the wall home by coach, and there to sing and sup with my wife, and look upon our pretty girl, and so to bed.
. Up, and very busy all the morning, upon my accounts of Tangier, to present to the Commissioners of the Treasury in the afternoon, and the like upon the accounts of the office. This morning come to me Mr. Gawden about business, with his gold chain about his neck, as being Sheriffe of the City this year. At noon to the Treasury Office again, and there dined and did business, and then by coach to the New Exchange, and there met my wife and girl, and took them to the King’s house to see The Traytour, which still I like as a very good play; and thence, round by the wall, home, having drunk at the Cock alehouse, as I of late have used to do, and so home and to my chamber to read, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and going out of doors, I understand that Sir W. Batten is gone to bed on a sudden again this morning, being struck very ill, and I confess I have observed him for these last two months to look very ill and to look worse and worse. I to St. James’s (though it be a sitting day) to the Duke of York, about the Tangier Committee, which met this morning, and he come to us, and the Charter for the City of Tangier was read and the form of the Court Merchant. That being done Sir W. Coventry took me into the gallery, and walked with me an hour, discoursing of Navy business, and with much kindness to, and confidence in, me still; which I must endeavour to preserve, and will do; and, good man! all his care how to get the Navy paid off, and that all other things therein may go well. He gone, I thence to my Lady Peterborough, who sent for me; and with her an hour talking about her husband’s pension, and how she hath got an order for its being paid again; though, I believe, for all that order, it will hardly be; but of that I said nothing; but her design is to get it paid again: and how to raise money upon it, to clear it from the engagement which lies upon it to some citizens, who lent her husband money, without her knowledge, upon it, to vast loss. She intends to force them to take their money again, and release her husband of those hard terms. The woman is a very wise woman, and is very plain in telling me how her plate and jewels are at pawne for money, and how they are forced to live beyond their estate, and do get nothing by his being a courtier. The lady I pity, and her family. Having done with her, and drunk two glasses of her meade, which she did give me, and so to the Treasurer’s Office, and there find my Lord Brouncker and [Sir] W. Penn at dinner with Sir G. Carteret about his accounts, where I dined and talked and settled some business, and then home, and there took out my wife and Willet, thinking to have gone to a play, but both houses were begun, and so we to the ’Change, and thence to my tailor’s, and there, the coachman desiring to go home to change his horses, we went with him into a nasty end of all St. Giles’s, and there went into a nasty room, a chamber of his, where he hath a wife and child, and there stayed, it growing dark too, and I angry thereat, till he shifted his horses, and then home apace, and there I to business late, and so home, to supper, and walk in the garden with my wife and girl, with whom we are mightily pleased, and after talking and supping, to bed. This noon, going home, I did call on Will Lincolne3659 and agree with him to carry me to Brampton.
. Up, and to Whitehall to attend the Council about Commissioner Pett’s business, along with my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn, and in the Robe-chamber the Duke of York come to us, the officers of the Navy, and there did meet together about Navy business, where Sir W. Coventry was with us, and among other things did recommend his Royal Highness, now the prizes were disposing, to remember Sir John Harman to the King, for some bounty, and also for my Lady Minnes, which was very nobly done of him. Thence all of us to attend the Council, where we were anon called on, and there was a long hearing of Commissioner Pett, who was there, and there were the two Masters Attendant3660 of Chatham called in, who do deny their having any order from Commissioner Pett about bringing up the great ships, which gives the lie to what he says; but, in general, I find him to be but a weak, silly man, and that is guilty of horrid neglect in this business all along. Here broke off without coming to an issue, but that there should be another hearing on Monday next. So the Council rose, and I stayed walking up and down the galleries till the King went to dinner, and then I to my Lord Crew’s to dinner; but he having dined, I took a very short leave, confessing I had not dined; and so to an ordinary hard by the Temple-gate, where I have heretofore been, and there dined—cost me 10d. And so to my Lord Ashly’s, where after dinner Sir H. Cholmly, Creed and I, with his Lordship, about Mr. Yeabsly’s business, where having come to agreement with him abating him £1,000 of what he demands for ships lost, I to Westminster, to Mrs. Martin’s lodging, whither I sent for her, and there hear that her husband is come from sea, which is sooner than I expected; and here I stayed and drank, and so did toucher elle and away, and so by coach to my tailor’s, and thence to my Lord Crew’s, and there did stay with him an hour till almost night, discoursing about the ill state of my Lord Sandwich, that he can neither be got to be called home, nor money got to maintain him there;3661 which will ruin his family. And the truth is, he do almost deserve it, for by all relation he hath, in a little more than a year and a half, spent £20,000 of the King’s money, and the best part of £10,000 of his own; which is a most prodigious expense, more than ever Embassador spent there, and more than these Commissioners of the Treasury will or do allow. And they demand an account before they will give him any more money; which puts all his friends to a loss what to answer. But more money we must get him, or to be called home. I offer to speak to Sir W. Coventry about it; but my Lord will not advise to it, without consent of Sir G. Carteret. So home, and there to see Sir W. Batten, who fell sick yesterday morning. He is asleep: and so I could not see him; but in an hour after, word is brought me that he is so ill, that it is believed he cannot live till tomorrow, which troubles me and my wife mightily, partly out of kindness, he being a good neighbour and partly because of the money he owes me, upon our bargain of the late prize.3662 So home and to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the Office; and there all the morning; none but my Lord Anglesey and myself; but much surprised with the news of the death of Sir W. Batten, who died this morning, having been but two days sick. Sir W. Penn and I did dispatch a letter this morning to Sir W. Coventry, to recommend Colonel Middleton, who we think a most honest and understanding man, and fit for that place. Sir G. Carteret did also come this morning, and walked with me in the garden; and concluded not to concern [himself] or have any advice made to Sir W. Coventry, in behalf of my Lord Sandwich’s business; so I do rest satisfied, though I do think they are all mad, that they will judge Sir W. Coventry an enemy, when he is indeed no such man to anybody, but is severe and just, as he ought to be, where he sees things ill done. At noon home, and by coach to Temple Bar to a India shop, and there bought a gown and sash, which cost me 26s., and so she [Mrs. Pepys] and Willet away to the ’Change, and I to my Lord Crew, and there met my Lord Hinchingbroke and Lady Jemimah, and there dined with them and my Lord, where pretty merry, and after dinner my Lord Crew and Hinchingbroke and myself went aside to discourse about my Lord Sandwich’s business, which is in a very ill state for want of money, and so parted, and I to my tailor’s, and there took up my wife and Willet, who stayed there for me, and to the Duke of York’s playhouse, but the house so full, it being a new play, The Coffee House,3663 that we could not get in, and so to the King’s house: and there, going in, met with Knepp, and she took us up into the tiring-rooms: and to the women’s shift, where Nell was dressing herself, and was all unready, and is very pretty, prettier than I thought. And so walked all up and down the house above, and then below into the scene-room, and there sat down, and she gave us fruit and here I read the questions to Knepp, while she answered me, through all her part of Flora’s Figary’s,3664 which was acted today. But, Lord! to see how they were both painted would make a man mad, and did make me loath them; and what base company of men comes among them, and how lewdly they talk! and how poor the men are in clothes, and yet what a show they make on the stage by candlelight, is very observable. But to see how Nell cursed, for having so few people in the pit, was pretty; the other house carrying away all the people at the new play, and is said, nowadays, to have generally most company, as being better players. By and by into the pit, and there saw the play, which is pretty good, but my belly was full of what I had seen in the house, and so, after the play done, away home, and there to the writing my letters, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and dressed myself, and so walked out with the boy to Smithfield to Cow Lane, to Lincolne’s, and there spoke with him, and agreed upon the hour tomorrow, to set out towards Brampton; but vexed that he is not likely to go himself, but sends another for him. Here I took a hackney coach, and to Whitehall, and there met Sir W. Coventry, and discoursed with him, and then with my Lord Brouncker, and many others, to end my matters in order to my going into the country tomorrow for five or six days, which I have not done for above three years. Walked with Creed into the Park a little, and at last went into the Queen’s side, and there saw the King and Queen, and saw the ladies, in order to my hearing any news stirring to carry into the country, but met with none, and so away home by coach, and there dined, and W. How come to see me, and after dinner parted, and I to my writing to my Lord Sandwich, which is the greatest business I have to do before my going into the country, and in the evening to my office to set matters to rights there, and being in the garden Sir W. Penn did come to me, and fell to discourse about the business of The Flying Greyhound, wherein I was plain to him and he to me, and at last concluded upon my writing a petition to the Duke of York for a certain ship, The Maybolt Gallyott,3665 and he offers to give me £300 for my success, which, however, I would not oblige him to, but will see the issue of it by fair play, and so I did presently draw a petition, which he undertakes to proffer to the Duke of York, and solicit for me, and will not seem to doubt of his success. So I wrote, and did give it him, and left it with him, and so home to supper, where Pelling comes and sits with me, and there tells us how old Mr. Batelier is dead this last night in the night, going to bed well, which I am mightily troubled for, he being a good man. Supper done, and he gone, I to my chamber to write my journal to this night, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, and did do several things towards the settling all matters both of house and office in order for my journey this day, and did leave my chief care, and the key of my closet, with Mr. Hater, with directions what papers to secure, in case of fire or other accident; and so, about nine o’clock, I, and my wife, and Willet, set out in a coach I have hired, with four horses; and W. Hewer and Murford rode by us on horseback; and so my wife and she in their morning gowns, very handsome and pretty, and to my great liking. We set out, and so out at Allgate, and so to the Green Man, and so on to Enfield, in our way seeing Mr. Lowther and his lady in a coach, going to Walthamstow; and he told us that he would overtake us at night, he being to go that way. So we to Enfield, and there baited, it being but a foul, bad day, and there Lowther and Mr. Burford, an acquaintance of his, did overtake us, and there drank and eat together; and, by and by, we parted, we going before them, and very merry, my wife and girl and I talking, and telling tales, and singing, and before night come to Bishop Stafford,3666 where Lowther and his friend did meet us again, and carried us to the Reindeer, where Mrs. Aynsworth,3667 who lived heretofore at Cambridge, and whom I knew better than they think for, do live. It was the woman that, among other things, was great with my cousin Barnston, of Cottenham, and did use to sing to him, and did teach me “Full forty times over,” a very lewd song: a woman they are very well acquainted with, and is here what she was at Cambridge, and all the good fellows of the country come hither. Lowther and his friend stayed and drank, and then went further this night; but here we stayed, and supped, and lodged. But, as soon as they were gone, and my supper getting ready, I fell to write my letter to my Lord Sandwich, which I could not finish before my coming from London; so did finish it to my good content, and a good letter, telling him the present state of all matters, and did get a man to promise to carry it tomorrow morning, to be there, at my house, by noon, and I paid him well for it; so, that being done, and my mind at ease, we to supper, and so to bed, my wife and I in one bed, and the girl in another, in the same room, and lay very well, but there was so much tearing company in the house, that we could not see my landlady; so I had no opportunity of renewing my old acquaintance with her, but here we slept very well.
. Up pretty betimes, though not so soon as we intended, by reason of Murford’s not rising, and then not knowing how to open our door, which, and some other pleasant simplicities of the fellow, did give occasion to us to call him Sir Martin Marrall,3668 and W. Hewer being his helper and counsellor, we did call him, all this journey, Mr. Warner, which did give us good occasion of mirth now and then. At last, rose, and up, and broke our fast, and then took coach, and away, and at Newport did call on Mr. Lowther, and he and his friend, and the master of the house, their friend, where they were, a gentleman, did presently get a-horseback and overtook us, and went with us to Audley-End, and did go along with us all over the house and garden: and mighty merry we were. The house indeed do appear very fine, but not so fine as it hath heretofore to me; particularly the ceilings3669 are not so good as I always took them to be, being nothing so well wrought as my Lord Chancellor’s are; and though the figure of the house without be very extraordinary good, yet the staircase is exceeding poor; and a great many pictures, and not one good one in the house but one of Harry the Eighth, done by Holben;3670 and not one good suit of hangings in all the house, but all most ancient things, such as I would not give the hanging-up of in my house; and the other furniture, beds and other things, accordingly.3671 Only the gallery is good, and, above all things, the cellars, where we went down and drank of much good liquor; and indeed the cellars are fine: and here my wife and I did sing to my great content. And then to the garden, and there eat many grapes, and took some with us and so away thence, exceeding well satisfied, though not to that degree that, by my old esteem of the house, I ought and did expect to have done, the situation of it not pleasing me. Here we parted with Lowther and his friends, and away to Cambridge, it being foul, rainy weather, and there did take up at the Rose, for the sake of Mrs. Dorothy Drawwater, the vintner’s daughter, which is mentioned in the play of Sir Martin Marrall. Here we had a good chamber, and bespoke a good supper; and then I took my wife, and W. Hewer, and Willet, it holding up a little, and showed them Trinity College and St. John’s Library, and went to King’s College Chapel, to see the outside of it only; and so to our inne, and with much pleasure did this, they walking in their pretty morning gowns, very handsome, and I proud to find myself in condition to do this; and so home to our lodging, and there by and by, to supper, with much good sport, talking with the Drawers concerning matters of the town, and persons whom I remember, and so, after supper, to cards; and then to bed, lying, I in one bed, and my wife and girl in another, in the same room, and very merry talking together, and mightily pleased both of us with the girl. Saunders, the only violin in my time, is, I hear, dead of the plague in the late plague there.
. Up, and got ready, and eat our breakfast; and then took coach: and the poor, as they did yesterday, did stand at the coach to have something given them, as they do to all great persons; and I did give them something: and the town music did also come and play: but, Lord! what sad music they made! However, I was pleased with them, being all of us in very good humour, and so through the town, and observed at our College of Magdalene the posts new painted, and understand that the Vice-Chancellor3672 is there this year. And so away for Huntingdon mightily pleased all along the road to remember old stories; and come to Brampton at about noon, and there find my father and sister and brother all well and here laid up our things, and up and down to see the garden with my father, and the house, and do altogether find it very pretty; especially the little parlour and the summerhouses in the garden, only the wall do want greens upon it, and the house is too low-roofed; but that is only because of my coming from a house with higher ceilings. But altogether is very pretty; and I bless God that I am like to have such a pretty place to retire to: and I did walk with my father without doors, and do find a very convenient way of laying out money there in building, which will make a very good seat, and the place deserves it, I think, very well. By and by to dinner, and after dinner I walked up to Hinchingbroke, where my Lady expected me; and there spent all the afternoon with her: the same most excellent, good, discreet lady that ever she was; and, among other things, is mightily pleased with the lady that is like to be her son Hinchingbroke’s wife, which I am mightily glad of. By and by my wife comes with Willet, my wife in her velvet vest, which is mighty fine, and becomes her exceedingly. I am pleased with my Lady Paulina and Anne,3673 who both are grown very proper ladies, and handsome enough. But a thousand questions my Lady asked me, till she could think of no more almost, but walked up and down the house, with me. But I do find, by her, that they are reduced to great straits for money, having been forced to sell her plate, 8 or £900 worth; and she is now going to sell a suit of her best hangings, of which I could almost wish to buy a piece or two, if the pieces will be broke. But the house is most excellently furnished, and brave rooms and good pictures, so that it do please me infinitely beyond Audley End. Here we stayed till night walking and talking and drinking, and with mighty satisfaction my Lady with me alone most of the day talking of my Lord’s bad condition to be kept in Spain without money and at a great expense, which (as we will save the family) we must labour to remove. Night being come, we took leave with all possible kindness, and so home, and there Mr. Shepley stayed with us and supped, and full of good country discourse, and when supper done took his leave, and we all to bed, only I a little troubled that my father tells me that he is troubled that my wife shows my sister no countenance, and, him but very little, but is as a stranger in the house; and I do observe she do carry herself very high; but I perceive there was some great falling out when she was here last, but the reason I have no mind to enquire after, for vexing myself, being desirous to pass my time with as much mirth as I can while I am abroad. So all to bed. My wife and I in the high bed in our chamber, and Willet in the trundle bed,3674 which she desired to lie in, by us.
. Waked in the morning with great pain of the colic, by cold taken yesterday, I believe, with going up and down in my shirt, but with rubbing my belly, keeping of it warm, I did at last come to some ease, and rose, and up to walk up and down the garden with my father, to talk of all our concernments: about a husband for my sister, whereof there is at present no appearance; but we must endeavour to find her one now, for she grows old and ugly: then for my brother; and resolve he shall stay here this winter, and then I will either send him to Cambridge for a year, till I get him some church promotion, or send him to sea as a chaplain, where he may study, and earn his living. Then walked round about our Greene, to see whether, in case I cannot buy out my uncle Thomas and his son’s right in this house, that I can buy another place as good thereabouts to build on, and I do not see that I can. But this, with new building, may be made an excellent pretty thing, and I resolve to look after it as soon as I can, and Goody Gorum dies. By this time it was almost noon, and then my father and I and wife and Willet abroad, by coach round the town of Brampton, to observe any other place as good as ours, and find none; and so back with great pleasure; and thence went all of us, my sister and brother, and W. Hewer, to dinner to Hinchingbroke, where we had a good plain country dinner, but most kindly used; and here dined the Minister of Brampton and his wife, who is reported a very good, but poor man. Here I spent alone with my Lady, after dinner, the most of the afternoon, and anon the two twins3675 were sent for from schoole, at Mr. Taylor’s, to come to see me, and I took them into the garden, and there, in one of the summerhouses, did examine them, and do find them so well advanced in their learning, that I was amazed at it: they repeating a whole ode without book out of Horace, and did give me a very good account of anything almost, and did make me very readily very good Latin, and did give me good account of their Greek grammar, beyond all possible expectation; and so grave and manly as I never saw, I confess, nor could have believed; so that they will be fit to go to Cambridge in two years at most. They are both little, but very like one another, and well-looked children. Then in to my Lady again, and stayed till it was almost night again, and then took leave for a great while again, but with extraordinary kindness from my Lady, who looks upon me like one of her own family and interest. So thence, my wife and people by the highway, and I walked over the park with Mr. Shepley, and through the grove, which is mighty pretty, as is imaginable, and so over their drawbridge to Nun’s Bridge,3676 and so to my father’s, and there sat and drank, and talked a little, and then parted. And he being gone, and what company there was, my father and I, with a dark lantern; it being now night, into the garden with my wife, and there went about our great work to dig up my gold. But, Lord! what a tosse I was for some time in, that they could not justly tell where it was; that I begun heartily to sweat, and be angry, that they should not agree better upon the place, and at last to fear that it was gone but by and by poking with a spit, we found it, and then begun with a spudd to lift up the ground. But, good God! to see how sillily they did it, not half a foot under ground, and in the sight of the world from a hundred places, if anybody by accident were near hand, and within sight of a neighbour’s window, and their hearing also, being close by: only my father says that he saw them all gone to church before he begun the work, when he laid the money, but that do not excuse it to me. But I was out of my wits almost, and the more from that, upon my lifting up the earth with the spudd, I did discern that I had scattered the pieces of gold round about the ground among the grass and loose earth; and taking up the iron headpieces wherein they were put, I perceive the earth was got among the gold, and wet, so that the bags were all rotten, and all the notes, that I could not tell what in the world to say to it, not knowing how to judge what was wanting, or what had been lost by Gibson in his coming down: which, all put together, did make me mad; and at last was forced to take up the headpieces, dirt and all, and as many of the scattered pieces as I could with the dirt discern by the candlelight, and carry them up into my brother’s chamber, and there locke them up till I had eat a little supper: and then, all people going to bed, W. Hewer and I did all alone, with several pails of water and basins, at last wash the dirt off of the pieces, and parted the pieces and the dirt, and then begun to tell [them]; and by a note which I had of the value of the whole in my pocket, do find that there was short above a hundred pieces, which did make me mad; and considering that the neighbour’s house was so near that we could not suppose we could speak one to another in the garden at the place where the gold lay—especially my father being deaf—but they must know what we had been doing on, I feared that they might in the night come and gather some pieces and prevent us the next morning; so W. Hewer and I out again about midnight, for it was now grown so late, and there by candlelight did make shift to gather forty-five pieces more. And so in, and to cleanse them: and by this time it was past two in the morning; and so to bed, with my mind pretty quiet to think that I have recovered so many. And then to bed, and I lay in the trundle-bed, the girl being gone to bed to my wife, and there lay in some disquiet all night, telling of the clock till it was daylight.
. And then rose and called W. Hewer, and he and I, with pails and a sieve, did lock ourselves into the garden, and there gather all the earth about the place into pails, and then sift those pails in one of the summerhouses, just as they do for diamonds in other parts of the world; and there, to our great content, did with much trouble by nine o’clock (and by the time we emptied several pails and could not find one), we did make the last night’s forty-five up seventy-nine: so that we are come to about twenty or thirty of what I think the true number should be; and perhaps within less; and of them I may reasonably think that Mr. Gibson might lose some: so that I am pretty well satisfied that my loss is not great, and do bless God that it is so well,3677 and do leave my father to make a second examination of the dirt, which he promises he will do, and, poor man, is mightily troubled for this accident, but I declared myself very well satisfied, and so indeed I am; and my mind at rest in it, being but an accident, which is unusual; and so gives me some kind of content to remember how painful it is sometimes to keep money, as well as to get it, and how doubtful I was how to keep it all night, and how to secure it to London: and so got all my gold put up in bags. And so having the last night wrote to my Lady Sandwich to lend me John Bowles to go along with me my journey, not telling her the reason, that it was only to secure my gold, we to breakfast, and then about ten o’clock took coach, my wife and I, and Willet, and W. Hewer, and Murford and Bowles (whom my Lady lent me), and my brother John on horseback; and with these four I thought myself pretty safe. But, before we went out, the Huntingdon music come to me and played, and it was better than that of Cambridge. Here I took leave of my father, and did give my sister 20s. She cried at my going; but whether it was at her unwillingness for my going, or any unkindness of my wife’s, or no, I know not; but, God forgive me! I take her to be so cunning and ill-natured, that I have no great love for her; but only [she] is my sister, and must be provided for. My gold I put into a basket, and set under one of the seats; and so my work every quarter of an hour was to look to see whether all was well; and I did ride in great fear all the day, but it was a pleasant day, and good company, and I mightily contented. Mr. Shepley saw me beyond St. Neots, and there parted, and we straight to Stevenage, through Bald Lanes, which are already very bad; and at Stevenage we come well before night, and all sat, and there with great care I got the gold up to the chamber, my wife carrying one bag, and the girl another, and W. Hewer the rest in the basket, and set it all under a bed in our chamber; and then sat down to talk, and were very pleasant, satisfying myself, among other things, from John Bowles, in some terms of hunting, and about deere, bucks, and does. And so anon to supper, and very merry we were, and a good supper, and after supper to bed. Brecocke alive still, and the best host I know almost.
. Up, and eat our breakfast, and set out about nine o’clock, and so to Barnett, where we stayed and baited, the weather very good all day and yesterday, and by five o’clock got home, where I find all well; and did bring my gold, to my heart’s content, very safe home, having not this day carried it in a basket, but in our hands: the girl took care of one, and my wife another bag, and I the rest, I being afraid of the bottom of the coach, lest it should break, and therefore was at more ease in my mind than I was yesterday. At home we find that Sir W. Batten’s burial was today carried from hence, with a hundred or two of coaches, to Walthamstow, and there buried. Here I hear by Mr. Pierce the surgeon; and then by Mr. Lewes, and also by Mr. Hater, that the Parliament hath met on Thursday last, and adjourned to Monday next. The King did make them a very kind speech,3678 promising them to leave all to them to do, and call to account what and whom they pleased; and declared by my Lord Keeper how many, thirty-six, actes he had done since he saw them; among others, disbanding the army, and putting all Papists out of employment, and displacing persons that had managed their business ill, that the Parliament is mightily pleased with the King’s speech, and voted giving him thanks for what he said and hath done; and, among things, would by name thank him for displacing my Lord Chancellor, for which a great many did speak in the House, but it was opposed by some, and particularly Harry Coventry, who got that it should be put to a Committee to consider what particulars to mention in their thanks to the King, saying that it was too soon to give thanks for the displacing of a man, before they knew or had examined what was the cause of his displacing. And so it rested; but this do show that they are and will be very high; and Mr. Pierce do tell me that he fears, and do hear, that it hath been said among them, that they will move for the calling my Lord Sandwich home, to bring him to account; which do trouble me mightily; but I trust it will not be so. Anon comes home Sir W. Penn from the burial, and he and I to walk in the garden, where he did confirm the most of this news, and so to talk of our particular concernments, and among the rest he says that Lady Batten and her children-in-law are all broke in pieces, and that there is but £800 found in the world, of money; and is in great doubt what we shall do towards the doing ourselves right with them, about the prize-money. This troubles me, but we will fall to work upon that next week close. Then he tells me he did deliver my petition into the hands of Sir W. Coventry, who did take it with great kindness and promised to present it to the Duke of York, and that himself has since seen the Duke of York, but it was in haste, and thinks the Duke of York did tell him that the thing was done, but he is confident that it either is or will be done. This do please me mightily. So after a little talk more I away home to supper with John Bowles and brother and wife (who, I perceive, is already a little jealous of my being fond of Willet, but I will avoid giving her any cause to continue in that mind, as much as possible), and before that did go with Sir W. Penn to my Lady Batten, whom I had not seen since she was a widow, which she took unkindly, but I did excuse it; and the house being full of company, and of several factions, she against the children, and they against one another and her, I away, and home to supper, and after supper to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and thence walked to Sir W. Coventry’s lodgings, but he was gone out, so I to St. James’s, and there to the Duke of York’s chamber: and there he was dressing; and many Lords and Parliament-men come to kiss his hands, they being newly come to town. And there the Duke of York did of himself call me to him, and tell me that he had spoke to the King, and that the King had granted me the ship I asked for; and did, moreover, say that he was mightily satisfied with my service, and that he would be willing to do anything that was in his power for me: which he said with mighty kindness; which I did return him thanks for, and departed with mighty joy, more than I did expect. And so walked over the Park to Whitehall, and there met Sir H. Cholmly, who walked with me, and told me most of the news I heard last night of the Parliament; and thinks they will do all things very well, only they will be revenged of my Lord Chancellor; and says, however, that he thinks there will be but two things proved on him; and that one is, that he may have said to the King, and to others, words to breed in the King an ill opinion of the Parliament—that they were factious, and that it was better to dissolve them: and this, he thinks, they will be able to prove; but what this will amount to, he knows not. And next, that he hath taken money for several bargains that have been made with the Crown; and did instance one that is already complained of: but there are so many more involved in it, that, should they unravel things of this sort, everybody almost will be more or less concerned. But these are the two great points which he thinks they will insist on, and prove against him. Thence I to the Chapel, and there heard the sermon and a pretty good anthem, and so home by water to dinner, where Bowles and brother, and a good dinner, and in the afternoon to make good my journal to this day, and so by water again to Whitehall, and thence only walked to Mrs. Martin’s, and there sat with her and her sister and Borroughs … and there drank and talked and away by water home, and there walked with Sir W. Penn, and told him what the Duke of York told me today about the ship I begged; and he was knave enough, of his own accord, but, to be sure, in order to his own advantage, to offer me to send for the master of the vessel, The Maybolt Galiot, and bid him to get her furnished as for a long voyage, and I to take no notice of it, that she might be the more worth to me: so that here he is a very knave to the King, and I doubt not his being the same to me on occasion. So in a doors and supped with my wife and brother, W. Hewer, and Willett, and so evened with W. Hewer for my expenses upon the road this last journey, and do think that the whole journey will cost me little less than £18 or £20, one way or other; but I am well pleased with it, and so after supper to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and thence walked to St. James’s, and there to Mr. Wren’s; and he told me that my business was done about my warrant on the Maybolt Galiot; which I did see, and though it was not so full in the reciting of my services as the other was in that of Sir W. Penn’s, yet I was well pleased with it, and do intend to fetch it away anon. Thence with Sir Thomas Allen, in a little sorry coach which he hath set up of late, and Sir Jeremy Smith, to Whitehall, and there I took water and went to Westminster Hall, and there hear that the House is this day again upon the business of giving the King the thanks of the House for his speech, and, among other things, for laying aside of my Lord Chancellor. Thence I to Mrs. Martin’s, where by appointment comes to me Mrs. Howlett, which I was afraid was to have told me something of my freedom with her daughter, but it was not so, but only to complain to me of her son-in-law, how he abuses and makes a slave of her, and his mother is one that encourages him in it, so that they are at this time upon very bad terms one with another, and desires that I would take a time to advise him and tell him what it becomes him to do, which office I am very glad of, for some ends of my own also con sa fille, and there drank and parted, I mightily satisfied with this business, and so home by water with Sir W. Warren, who happened to be at Westminster, and there I pretty strange to him, and little discourse, and there at the office Lord Brouncker, W. Penn, T. Hater and I did some business, and so home to dinner, and thence I out to visit Sir G. Carteret and ladies there; and from him do understand that the King himself (but this he told me as a great secret) is satisfied that this thanks which he expects from the House, for the laying aside of my Lord Chancellor, is a thing irregular; but, since it is come into the House, he do think it necessary to carry it on, and will have it, and hath made his mind known to be so, to some of the House. But Sir G. Carteret do say he knows nothing of what my Lord Brouncker told us today, that the King was angry with the Duke of York yesterday, and advised him not to hinder what he had a mind to have done, touching this business; which is news very bad, if true. Here I visited my Lady Carteret, who hath been sick some time, but now pretty well, but laid on her bed. Thence to my Lord Crew, to see him after my coming out of the country, and he seems satisfied with some steps they have made in my absence towards my Lord Sandwich’s relief for money: and so I have no more to do, nor will trouble myself more about it till they send for me. He tells me also that the King will have the thanks of the House go on: and commends my Lord Keeper’s speech for all but what he was forced to say, about the reason of the King’s sending away the House so soon the last time, when they were met, but this he was forced to do. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked with Mr. Scowen, who tells me that it is at last carried in the House that the thanks shall be given to the King—among other things, particularly for the removal of my Lord Chancellor; but he tells me it is a strange act, and that which he thinks would never have been, but that the King did insist upon it, that, since it come into the House, it might not be let fall. After walking there awhile I took coach and to the Duke of York’s House, and there went in for nothing into the pit, at the last act, to see Sir Martin Marrall, and met my wife, who was there, and my brother, and W. Hewer and Willett, and carried them home, still being pleased with the humour of the play, almost above all that ever I saw. Home, and there do find that John Bowles is not yet come thither. I suppose he is playing the good fellow in the town. So to the office a while, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where, Sir W. Penn being ill of the gout, we all of us met there in his parlour and did the business of the office, our greatest business now being to manage the pay of the ships in order and with speed to satisfy the Commissioners of the Treasury. This morning my brother set out for Brampton again, and is gone. At noon home to dinner, and thence my wife and I and Willet to the Duke of York’s house, where, after long stay, the King and Duke of York come, and there saw The Coffee-House,3679 the most ridiculous, insipid play that ever I saw in my life, and glad we were that Betterton had no part in it. But here, before the play begun, my wife begun to complain to me of Willet’s confidence in sitting cheek by jowl by us, which was a poor thing; but I perceive she is already jealous of my kindness to her, so that I begin to fear this girl is not likely to stay long with us. The play done, we home by coach, it being moonlight, and got well home, and I to my chamber to settle some papers, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at home most of the morning with Sir H. Cholmly, about some accounts of his; and for news he tells me that the Commons and Lords have concurred, and delivered the King their thanks, among other things, for his removal of the Chancellor; who took their thanks very well, and, among other things, promised them, in these words, never, in any degree, to entertain the Chancellor any employment again. And he tells me that it is very true, he hath it from one that was by, that the King did, give the Duke of York a sound reprimand; told him that he had lived with him with more kindness than ever any brother King lived with a brother, and that he lived as much like a monarch as himself, but advised him not to cross him in his designs about the Chancellor; in which the Duke of York do very wisely acquiesce, and will be quiet as the King bade him, but presently commands all his friends to be silent in the business of the Chancellor, and they were so: but that the Chancellor hath done all that is possible to provoke the King, and to bring himself to lose his head by enraging of people. He gone, I to the office, busy all the morning. At noon to Broad Street to Sir G. Carteret and Lord Brouncker, and there dined with them, and thence after dinner with Brouncker to Whitehall, where the Duke of York is now newly come for this winter, and there did our usual business, which is but little, and so I away to the Duke of York’s house, thinking as we appointed, to meet my wife there, but she was not; and more, I was vexed to see Young (who is but a bad actor at best) act Macbeth in the room of Betterton, who, poor man! is sick: but, Lord! what a prejudice it wrought in me against the whole play, and everybody else agreed in disliking this fellow. Thence home, and there find my wife gone home; because of this fellow’s acting of the part, she went out of the house again. There busy at my chamber with Mr. Yeabsly, and then with Mr. Lewes, about public business late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and being sent for by my Lady Batten, I to her, and there she found fault with my not seeing her since her being a widow,3680 which I excused as well as I could, though it is a fault, but it is my nature not to be forward in visits. But here she told me her condition, which is good enough, being sole executrix, to the disappointment of all her husband’s children, and prayed my friendship about the accounts of the prizes, which I promised her. And here do see what creatures widows are in weeping for their husbands, and then presently leaving off; but I cannot wonder at it, the cares of the world taking place of all other passions. Thence to the office, where all the morning busy, and at noon home to dinner, where Mr. John Andrews and his wife come and dined with me, and pretty merry we were, only I out of humour the greatest part of the dinner, by reason that my people had forgot to get wine ready, I having none in my house, which I cannot say now these almost three years, I think, without having two or three sorts, by which we were fain to stay a great while, while some could be fetched. When it come I begun to be merry, and merry we were, but it was an odd, strange thing to observe of Mr. Andrews what a fancy he hath to raw meat, that he eats it with no pleasure unless the blood run about his chops, which it did now by a leg of mutton that was not above half boiled; but, it seems, at home all his meat is dressed so, and beef and all, and [he] eats it so at nights also. Here most of our discourse is of the business of the Parliament, who run on mighty furiously, having yesterday been almost all the morning complaining against some high proceedings of my Lord Chief Justice Keeling, that the gentlemen of the country did complain against him in the House, and run very high. It is the man that did fall out with my cousin Roger Pepys,3681 once, at the Assizes there, and would have laid him by the heels; but, it seems, a very able lawyer.3682 After dinner I to the office, where we all met with intent to proceed to the public sale of several prize ships, but upon discourse my Lord Anglesey did discover (which troubled me that he that is a stranger almost should do more than we ourselves could) that the appraisements made by our officers were not above half of what he had been offered for one of them, and did make it good by bringing a gentleman to give us £700 for the Wildboare,3683 which they valued but at £276, which made us all startle and stop the sale, and I did propose to acquaint the Duke of York with it, and accordingly we did agree on it, and I wrote a severe letter about it, and we are to attend him with it tomorrow about it. This afternoon my Lord Anglesey tells us that the House of Commons have this morning run into the inquiry in many things; as, the sale of Dunkirke, the dividing of the fleet the last year, the business of the prizes with my Lord Sandwich, and many other things; so that now they begin to fall close upon it, and God knows what will be the end of it, but a Committee they have chosen to inquire into the miscarriages of the war. Having done, and being a little tired, Sir W. Penn and I in his coach out to Mile End Green, and there drank a cup of Byde’s ale, and so talking about the proceedings of Parliament, and how little a thing the King is become to be forced to suffer it, though I declare my being satisfied that things should be enquired into, we back again home, and I to my office to my letters, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, and there attended the Duke of York; but first we find him to spend above an hour in private in his closet with Sir W. Coventry; which I was glad to see, that there is so much confidence between them. By and by we were called in and did our usual business, and complained of the business yesterday discovered of our officers abusing the King in the appraisement of the prizes. Here it was worth observing that the Duke of York, considering what third rate ships to keep abroad, the Rupert was thought on, but then it was said that Captain Hubbert3684 was Commander of her and that the King had a mind for Spragg to command the ship, which would not be well to be by turning out Hubbert, who is a good man, but one the Duke of York said he did not know whether he did so well conforme, as at this lime to please the people and Parliament. Sir W. Coventry answered, and the Duke of York merrily agreed to it, that it was very hard to know what it was that the Parliament would call conformity at this time, and so it stopped, which I only observe to see how the Parliament’s present temper do amuse them all. Thence to several places to buy a hat, and books, and neckcloths, and several errands I did before I got home, and, among others, bought me two new pair of spectacles of Turlington, who, it seems, is famous for them; and his daughter, he being out of the way, do advise me two very young sights, as that that will help me most, and promises me great ease from them, and I will try them. At the Exchange I met Creed, and took him home with me, and dined, and among other things he tells me that Sir Robert Brookes is the man that did mention the business in Parliament yesterday about my Lord Sandwich, but that it was seconded by nobody, but the matter will fall before the Committee for miscarriages. Thence, after dinner, my wife and he, and I, and Willet to the King’s house, and saw Brenoralt, which is a good tragedy, that I like well, and parted after the play, and so home, and there a little at my office, and so to my chamber, and spent this night late in telling over all my gold, and putting it into proper bags and my iron chest, being glad with my heart to see so much of it here again, but cannot yet tell certainly how much I have lost by Gibson in his journey, and my father’s burying of it in the dirt. At this late, but did it to my mind, and so to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, where very busy, and at noon home to a short dinner, being full of my desire of seeing my Lord Orrery’s new play this afternoon at the King’s house, The Black Prince,3685 the first time it is acted; where, though we come by two o’clock, yet there was no room in the pit, but we were forced to go into one of the upper boxes, at 4s. a piece, which is the first time I ever sat in a box in my life. And in the same box come, by and by, behind me, my Lord Barkeley [of Stratton] and his lady;3686 but I did not turn my face to them to be known, so that I was excused from giving them my seat; and this pleasure I had, that from this place the scenes do appear very fine indeed, and much better than in the pit. The house infinite full, and the King and Duke of York was there. By and by the play begun, and in it nothing particular but a very fine dance for variety of figures, but a little too long. But, as to the contrivance, and all that was witty (which, indeed, was much, and very witty), was almost the same that had been in his two former plays of Henry the 5th and Mustapha, and the same points and turns of wit in both, and in this very same play often repeated, but in excellent language, and were so excellent that the whole house was mightily pleased with it all along till towards the end he comes to discover the chief of the plot of the play by the reading of a long letter,3687 which was so long and some things (the people being set already to think too long) so unnecessary that they frequently begun to laugh, and to hiss twenty times, that, had it not been for the King’s being there, they had certainly hissed it off the stage. But I must confess that, as my Lord Barkeley says behind me, the having of that long letter was a thing so absurd, that he could not imagine how a man of his parts could possibly fall into it; or, if he did, if he had but let any friend read it, the friend would have told him of it; and, I must confess, it is one of the most remarkable instances that ever I did or expect to meet with in my life of a wise man’s not being wise at all times, and in all things, for nothing could be more ridiculous than this, though the letter of itself at another time would be thought an excellent letter, and indeed an excellent Romance, but at the end of the play, when everybody was weary of sitting, and were already possessed with the effect of the whole letter; to trouble them with a letter a quarter of an hour long, was a most absurd thing. After the play done, and nothing pleasing them from the time of the letter to the end of the play, people being put into a bad humour of disliking (which is another thing worth the noting), I home by coach, and could not forbear laughing almost all the way home, and all the evening to my going to bed, at the ridiculousness of the letter, and the more because my wife was angry with me, and the world, for laughing, because the King was there, though she cannot defend the length of the letter. So after having done business at the office, I home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and put on my new tunic of velvet; which is very plain, but good. This morning is brought to me an order for the presenting the Committee of Parliament tomorrow with a list of the commanders and ships’ names of all the fleetes set out since the war, and particularly of those ships which were divided3688 from the fleet with Prince Rupert; which gives me occasion to see that they are busy after that business, and I am glad of it. So I alone to church, and then home, and there Mr. Deane comes and dines with me by invitation, and both at and after dinner he and I spent all the day till it was dark in discourse of business of the Navy and the ground of the many miscarriages, wherein he do inform me in many more than I knew, and I had desired him to put them in writing, and many indeed they are and good ones; and also we discoursed of the business of shipping, and he hath promised me a draught of the ship he is now building, wherein I am mightily pleased. This afternoon comes to me Captain O’Bryan,3689 about a ship that the King hath given him; and he and I to talk of the Parliament; and he tells me that the business of the Duke of York’s slackening sail3690 in the first fight, at the beginning of the war, is brought into question, and Sir W. Penn and Captain Cox are to appear tomorrow about it; and it is thought will at last be laid upon Mr. Brouncker’s giving orders from the Duke of York (which the Duke of York do not own) to Captain Cox to do it; but it seems they do resent this very highly, and are mad in going through all business, where they can lay any fault. I am glad to hear, that in the world I am as kindly spoke of as anybody; for, for aught I see, there is bloody work like to be, Sir W. Coventry having been forced to produce a letter in Parliament wherein the Duke of Albemarle did from Sheerness write in what good posture all things were at Chatham, and that the chain was so well placed that he feared no attempt of the enemy: so that, among other things, I see everybody is upon his own defence, and spares not to blame another to defend himself, and the same course I shall take. But God knows where it will end! He gone, and Deane, I to my chamber for a while, and then comes Pelling the apothecary to see us, and sat and supped with me (my wife being gone to bed sick of the colic), and then I to bed, after supper. Pelting tells me that my Lady Duchess Albemarle was at Mrs. Turner’s this afternoon, she being ill, and did there publicly talk of business, and of our Office; and that she believed that I was safe, and had done well; and so, I thank God! I hear everybody speaks of me; and indeed, I think, without vanity, I may expect to be profited rather than injured by this inquiry, which the Parliament makes into business.
. Up, and betimes got a coach at the Exchange, and thence to St. James’s, where I had forgot that the Duke of York and family were gone to Whitehall, and thence to Westminster Hall and there walked a little, finding the Parliament likely to be busy all this morning about the business of Mr. Brouncker for advising Cox and Harman to shorten sail when they were in pursuit of the Dutch after the first great victory. I went away to Mr. Creed’s chamber, there to meet Sir H. Cholmly, about business of Mr. Yeabsly, where I was delivered of a great fear that they would question some of the orders for payment of money which I had got them signed at the time of the plague, when I was here alone, but all did pass. Thence to Westminster again, and up to the lobby, where many commanders of the fleet were, and Captain Cox, and Mr. Pierce, the Surgeon; the last of whom hath been in the House, and declared that he heard Brouncker advise, and give arguments to, Cox, for the safety of the Duke of York’s person, to shorten sail,3691 that they might not be in the middle of the enemy in the morning alone; and Cox denying to observe his advice, having received the Duke of York’s commands over night to keep within cannon-shot (as they then were) of the enemy, Brouncker did go to Harman, and used the same arguments, and told him that he was sure it would be well pleasing to the King that care should be taken of not endangering the Duke of York; and, after much persuasion, Harman was heard to say, “Why, if it must be, then lower the topsail.” And so did shorten sail, to the loss, as the Parliament will have it, of the greatest victory that ever was, and which would have saved all the expense of blood, and money, and honour, that followed; and this they do resent, so as to put it to the question, whether Brouncker should not be carried to the Tower: who do confess that, out of kindness to the Duke of York’s safety, he did advise that they should do so, but did not use the Duke of York’s name therein; and so it was only his error in advising it, but the greatest theirs in taking it, contrary to order. At last, it ended that it should be suspended till Harman comes home; and then the Parliament-men do all tell me that it will fall heavy, and, they think, be fatal to Brouncker or him. Sir W. Penn tells me he was gone to bed, having been all day labouring, and then not able to stand, of the gout, and did give order for the keeping the sails standing, as they then were, all night. But, which I wonder at, he tells me that he did not know the next day that they had shortened sail, nor ever did enquire into it till about ten days ago, that this begun to be mentioned; and, indeed, it is charged privately as a fault on the Duke of York, that he did not presently examine the reason of the breach of his orders, and punish it. But Cox tells me that he did finally refuse it; and what prevailed with Harman he knows not, and do think that we might have done considerable service on the enemy the next day, if this had not been done. Thus this business ended today, having kept them3692 till almost two o’clock; and then I by coach with Sir W. Penn as far as St. Clement’s, talking of this matter, and there set down; and I walked to Sir G. Carteret’s, and there dined with him and several Parliament-men, who, I perceive, do all look upon it as a thing certain that the Parliament will enquire into everything, and will be very severe where they can find any fault. Sir W. Coventry, I hear, did this day make a speech, in apology for his reading the letter of the Duke of Albemarle, concerning the good condition which Chatham was in before the enemy come thither: declaring his simple intention therein, without prejudice to my Lord.3693 And I am told that he was also with the Duke of Albemarle yesterday to excuse it; but this day I do hear, by some of Sir W. Coventry’s friends, that they think he hath done himself much injury by making this man, and his interest, so much his enemy. After dinner, I away to Westminster, and up to the Parliament-house, and there did wait with great patience, till seven at night, to be called in to the Committee, who sat all this afternoon, examining the business of Chatham; and at last was called in, and told, that the least they expected from us Mr. Wren had promised them, and only bade me to bring all my fellow-officers thitherto attend them tomorrow, afternoon. Sir Robert Brookes in the chair: methinks a sorry fellow to be there, because a young man; and yet he seems to speak very well. I gone thence, my cousin Pepys comes out to me, and walks in the Hall with me, and bids me prepare to answer to everything; for they do seem to lodge the business of Chatham upon the Commissioners of the Navy, and they are resolved to lay the fault heavy somewhere, and to punish it: and prays me to prepare to save myself, and gives me hints what to prepare against; which I am obliged to him for, and do begin to mistrust lest some unhappy slip or other after all my diligence and pains may not be found (which I can [not] foresee) that may prove as fatal to a man as the constant course of negligence and unfaithfulness of other men. Here we parted, and I to Whitehall to Mr. Wren’s chamber, thereto advise with him about the list of ships and commanders which he is to present to the Parliament, and took coach (little Michell being with me, whom I took with me from Westminster Hall), and setting him down in Gracious street home myself, where I find my wife and the two Mercers and Willett and W. Batelier have been dancing, but without a fidler. I had a little pleasure in talking with these, but my head and heart full of thoughts between hope and fear and doubts what will become of us and me particularly against a furious Parliament. Then broke up and to bed, and there slept pretty well till about four o’clock, and from that time could not, but my thoughts running on speeches to the Parliament to excuse myself from the blame which by other men’s negligence will ’light, it may be, upon the office. This day I did get a list of the fourteen particular miscarriages which are already before the Committee to be examined; wherein, besides two or three that will concern this Office much, there are those of the prizes, and that of Bergen, and not following the Dutch ships, against my Lord Sandwich; that, I fear, will ruin him, unless he hath very good luck, or they may be in better temper before he can come to be charged: but my heart is full of fear for him and his family. I hear that they do prosecute the business against my Lord Chief Justice Keeling with great severity.
. Slept but ill all the last part of the night, for fear of this day’s success in Parliament: therefore up, and all of us all the morning close, till almost two o’clock, collecting all we had to say and had done from the beginning, touching the safety of the River Medway and Chatham. And, having done this, and put it into order, we away, I not having time to eat my dinner; and so all in my Lord Brouncker’s coach, that is to say, Brouncker, W. Penn, T. Harvy, and myself, talking of the other great matter with which they charge us, that is, of discharging men by ticket, in order to our defence in case that should be asked. We come to the Parliament-door, and there, after a little waiting till the Committee was sat, we were, the House being very full, called in: Sir W. Penn went in and sat as a Member; and my Lord Brouncker would not at first go in, expecting to have a chair set for him, and his brother had bid him not go in, till he was called for; but, after a few words, I had occasion to mention him, and so he was called in, but without any more chair or respect paid him than myself: and so Brouncker, and T. Harvy, and I, were there to answer: and I had a chair brought me to lean my books upon: and so did give them such an account, in a series of the whole business that had passed the Office touching the matter, and so answered all questions given me about it, that I did not perceive but they were fully satisfied with me and the business as to our Office: and then Commissioner Pett (who was by at all my discourse, and this held till within an hour after candlelight, for I had candles brought in to read my papers by) was to answer for himself, we having lodged all matters with him for execution. But, Lord! what a tumultuous thing this Committee is, for all the reputation they have of a great council, is a strange consideration; there being as impertinent questions, and as disorderly proposed, as any man could make. But Commissioner Pett, of all men living, did make the weakest defence for himself: nothing to the purpose, nor to satisfaction, nor certain; but sometimes one thing and sometimes another, sometimes for himself and sometimes against him; and his greatest failure was, that I observed, from his [not] considering whether the question propounded was his part to answer or no, and the thing to be done was his work to do: the want of which distinction will overthrow him; for he concerns himself in giving an account of the disposal of the boats,3694 which he had no reason at all to do, or take any blame upon him for them. He charged the not carrying up of The Charles upon the Tuesday, to the Duke of Albemarle; but I see the House is mighty favourable to the Duke of Albemarle, and would give little weight to it. And something of want of armes he spoke, which Sir J. Duncomb answered with great imperiousness and earnestness; but, for all that, I do see the House is resolved to be better satisfied in the business of the unreadiness of Sheerness, and want of armes and ammunition there and everywhere: and all their officers3695 were here today attending, but only one called in, about armes for boats, to answer Commissioner Pett. None of my brethren said anything but me there, but only two or three silly words my Lord Brouncker gave, in answer to one question about the number of men there were in the King’s Yard at the time. At last, the House dismissed us, and shortly after did adjourne the debate till Friday next: and my cousin Pepys did come out and joy me in my acquitting myself so well, and so did several others, and my fellow-officers all very brisk to see themselves so well acquitted; which makes me a little proud, but yet not secure but we may yet meet with a back-blow which we see not. So, with our hearts very light, Sir W. Penn and I in his coach home, it being now near eight o’clock, and so to the office, and did a little business by the post, and so home, hungry, and eat a good supper, and so, with my mind well at ease, to bed. My wife not very well of those.
. Up, and Sir W. Penn and I in his coach to Whitehall, there to attend the Duke of York; but come a little too late, and so missed it: only spoke with him, and heard him correct my Lord Barkeley, who fell foul on Sir Edward Spragg, who, it seems, said yesterday to the House, that if the Officers of the Ordnance had done as much work at Shereness in ten weeks as The Prince did in ten days, he could have defended the place against the Dutch: but the Duke of York told him that everybody must have liberty, at this time, to make their own defence, though it be to the charging of the fault upon any other, so it be true; so I perceive the whole world is at work in blaming one another. Thence Sir W. Penn and I back into London; and there saw the King, with his kettledrums and trumpets, going to the Exchange, to lay the first stone of the first pillar of the new building of the Exchange;3696 which, the gates being shut, I could not get in to see: but, with Sir W. Penn, to Captain Cocke’s to drink a dram of brandy, and so he to the Treasury office about Sir G. Carteret’s accounts, and I took coach and back again toward Westminster; but in my way stopped at the Exchange, and got in, the King being newly gone; and there find the bottom of the first pillar laid. And here was a shed set up, and hung with tapestry, and a canopy of state, and some good victuals and wine, for the King, who, it seems, did it;3697 and so a great many people, as Tom Killigrew, and others of the Court there, and there I did eat a mouthful and drink a little, and do find Mr. Gawden in his gown as Sheriffe, and understand that the King hath this morning knighted him upon the place, which I am mightily pleased with; and I think the other Sheriffe, who is Davis,3698 the little fellow, my schoolfellow—the bookseller, who was one of Audley’s3699 Executors, and now become Sheriffe; which is a strange turn, methinks. Here mighty merry (there being a good deal of good company) for a quarter of an hour, and so I away and to Westminster Hall, where I come just as the House rose; and there, in the Hall, met with Sir W. Coventry, who is in pain to defend himself in the business of tickets, it being said that the paying of the ships at Chatham by ticket was by his direction, and he hath wrote to me to find his letters, and show them him, but I find none; but did there argue the case with him, and I think no great blame can be laid on us for that matter, only I see he is fearful. And he tells me his mistake in the House the other day, which occasions him much trouble, in showing of the House the Duke of Albemarle’s letter about the good condition of Chatham, which he is sorry for, and, owns as a mistake, the thing not being necessary to have been done; and confesses that nobody can escape from such error, some times or other. He says the House was well satisfied with my Report yesterday; and so several others told me in the Hall that my Report was very good and satisfactory, and that I have got advantage by it in the House: I pray God it may prove so! And here, after the Hall pretty empty, I did walk a few turns with Commissioner Pett, and did give the poor weak man some advice for his advantage how to better his pleading for himself, which I think he will if he can remember and practise, for I would not have the man suffer what he do not deserve, there being enough of what he do deserve to lie upon him. Thence to Mrs. Martin’s, and there stayed till two o’clock, and drank and talked, and did give her £3 to buy my goddaughter her first new gown … and so away homeward, and in my way met Sir W. Penn in Cheapside, and went into his coach, and back again and to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Black Prince again: which is now mightily bettered by that long letter being printed, and so delivered to everybody at their going in, and some short reference made to it in heart in the play, which do mighty well; but, when all is done, I think it the worst play of my Lord Orrery’s. But here, to my great satisfaction, I did see my Lord Hinchingbroke and his mistress,3700 with her father and mother; and I am mightily pleased with the young lady, being handsome enough—and, indeed, to my great liking, as I would have her. I could not but look upon them all the play; being exceeding pleased with my good hap to see them, God bring them together! and they are now already mighty kind to one another, and he is as it were one of their family. The play done I home, and to the office a while, and then home to supper, very hungry, and then to my chamber, to read the true story, in Speed, of the Black Prince, and so to bed.3701 This day, it was moved in the House that a day might be appointed to bring in an impeachment against the Chancellor, but it was decried as being irregular; but that, if there was ground for complaint, it might be brought to the Committee for miscarriages, and, if they thought good, to present it to the House; and so it was carried. They did also vote this day thanks to be given to the Prince3702 and Duke of Albemarle, for their care and conduct in the last year’s war, which is a strange act; but, I know not how, the blockhead Albemarle hath strange luck to be loved, though he be, and every man must know it, the heaviest man in the world, but stout and honest to his country. This evening late, Mr. Moore come to me to prepare matters for my Lord Sandwich’s defence; wherein I can little assist, but will do all I can; and am in great fear of nothing but the damned business of the prizes, but I fear my Lord will receive a cursed deal of trouble by it.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning very busy, and at noon took Mr. Hater home with me to dinner, and instantly back again to write what letters I had to write, that I might go abroad with my wife, who was not well, only to jumble her, and so to the Duke of York’s playhouse; but there Betterton not being yet well, we would not stay, though since I hear that Smith3703 do act his part in The Villaine, which was then acted, as well or better than he, which I do not believe; but to Charing Cross, there to see Polichinelli. But, it being begun, we in to see a Frenchman, at the house, where my wife’s father last lodged, one Monsieur Prin, play on the trump-marine,3704 which he do beyond belief; and, the truth is, it do so far outdo a trumpet as nothing more, and he do play anything very true, and it is most admirable and at first was a mystery to me that I should hear a whole concert of chords together at the end of a pause, but he showed me that it was only when the last notes were 5ths or 3rds, one to another, and then their sounds like an Echo did last so as they seemed to sound all together. The instrument is open at the end, I discovered; but he would not let me look into it, but I was mightily pleased with it, and he did take great pains to show me all he could do on it, which was very much, and would make an excellent concert, two or three of them, better than trumpets can ever do, because of their want of compass. Here we also saw again the two fat children come out of Ireland, and a brother and sister of theirs now come, which are of little ordinary growth, like other people. But, Lord! how strange it is to observe the difference between the same children, come out of the same little woman’s belly! Thence to Mile-End Greene, and there drank, and so home bringing home night with us, and so to the office a little, and then to bed.
. Up, and all the morning close till two o’clock, till I had not time to eat my dinner, to make our answer ready for the Parliament this afternoon, to show how Commissioner Pett was singly concerned in the executing of all orders from Chatham, and that we did properly lodge all orders with him. Thence with Sir W. Penn to the Parliament Committee, and there we all met, and did show, my Lord Brouncker and I, our commissions under the Great Seal in behalf of all the rest, to show them our duties, and there I had no more matters asked me, but were bid to withdraw, and did there wait, I all the afternoon till eight at night, while they were examining several about the business of Chatham again, and particularly my Lord Brouncker did meet with two or three blurs that he did not think of. One from Spragg, who says that The Unity was ordered up contrary to his order, by my Lord Brouncker and Commissioner Pett. Another by Crispin, the waterman, who said he was upon The Charles; and spoke to Lord Brouncker coming by in his boat, to know whether they should carry up The Charles, they being a great many naked men without armes, and he told them she was well as she was. Both these have little in them indeed, but yet both did stick close against him; and he is the weakest man in the world to make his defence, and so is like to have much fault laid on him therefrom. Spragg was in with them all the afternoon, and hath much fault laid on him for a man that minded his pleasure, and little else of his whole charge. I walked in the lobby, and there do hear from Mr. Chichly that they were (the Commissioners of the Ordnance) shrewdly put to it yesterday, being examined with all severity and were hardly used by them, much otherwise than we, and did go away with mighty blame; and I am told by everybody that it is likely to stick mighty hard upon them: at which everybody is glad, because of Duncomb’s pride, and their expecting to have the thanks of the House whereas they have deserved, as the Parliament apprehends, as bad as bad can be. Here is great talk of an impeachment brought in against my Lord Mordaunt, and that another will be brought in against my Lord Chancellor in a few days. Here I understand for certain that they have ordered that my Lord Arlington’s letters, and Secretary Morrice’s letters of intelligence, be consulted, about the business of the Dutch fleet’s coming abroad, which is a very high point, but this they have done, but in what particular manner I cannot justly say, whether it was not with the King’s leave first asked. Here late, as I have said, and at last they broke up, and we had our commissions again, and I do hear how Birch3705 is the high man that do examine and trouble everybody with his questions, and they say that he do labour all he can to clear Pett, but it seems a witness has come in tonight, C. Millett, who do declare that he did deliver a message from the Duke of Albemarle time enough for him to carry up The Charles, and he neglected it, which will stick very hard, it seems, on him. So Sir W. Penn and I in his coach home, and there to supper, a good supper, and so weary, and my eyes spent, to bed.
. Up, and we met all this morning at Sir W. Penn’s roome, the office being fowle with the altering of our garden door. There very busy, and at noon home, where Mrs. Pierce and her daughter’s husband and Mr. Corbet dined with me. I had a good dinner for them, and mighty merry. Pierce and I very glad at the fate of the officers of Ordnance, that they are like to have so much blame on them. Here Mrs. Pierce tells me that the two Marshalls at the King’s house are Stephen Marshall’s,3706 the great Presbyterian’s daughters: and that Nelly3707 and Beck Marshall, falling out the other day, the latter called the other my Lord Buckhurst’s whore. Nell answered then, “I was but one man’s whore, though I was brought up in a bawdyhouse to fill strong waters to the guests; and you are a whore to three or four, though a Presbyter’s praying daughter!” which was very pretty. Mrs. Pierce is still very pretty, but paints red on her face, which makes me hate her, that I thank God I take no pleasure in her at all more. After much mirth and good company at dinner, I to the office and left them, and Pendleton also, who come in to see my wife and talk of dancing, and there I at the office all the afternoon very busy, and did much business, with my great content to see it go off of hand, and so home, my eyes spent, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, there, with W. Hewer, to dictate a long letter to the Duke of York, about the bad state of the office, it being a work I do think fit for the office to do, though it be to no purpose but for their vindication in these bad times; for I do now learn many things tending to our safety which I did not wholly forget before, but do find the fruits of, and would I had practised them more, as, among other things, to be sure to let our answers to orders bear date presently after their date, that we may be found quick in our execution. This did us great good the other day before the Parliament. All the morning at this, at noon home to dinner, with my own family alone. After dinner, I down to Deptford, the first time that I went to look upon The Maybolt, which the King hath given me, and there she is; and I did meet with Mr. Uthwayte,3708 who do tell me that there are new sails ordered to be delivered her, and a cable, which I did not speak of at all to him. So, thereupon, I told him I would not be my own hindrance so much as to take her into my custody before she had them, which was all I said to him, but desired him to take a strict inventory of her, that I might not be cheated by the master nor the company, when they come to understand that the vessel is gone away, which he hath promised me, and so away back again home, reading all the way the book of the collection of oaths in the several offices of this nation, which is worth a man’s reading, and so away home, and there my boy and I to sing, and at it all the evening, and to supper, and so to bed. This evening come Sir J. Minnes to me, to let me know that a Parliament-man hath been with him, to tell him that the Parliament intend to examine him particularly about Sir W. Coventry’s selling of places, and about my Lord Brouncker’s discharging the ships at Chatham by ticket: for the former of which I am more particularly sorry that that business of [Sir] W. Coventry should come up again; though this old man tells me, and, I believe, that he can say nothing to it.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall (calling at Michell’s and drank a dram of strong water, but it being early I did not see his wife), and thence walked to Sir W. Coventry’s lodging, but he was gone out, and so going towards St. James’s I find him at his house which is fitting for him; and there I to him, and was with him above an hour alone, discoursing of the matters of the nation, and our Office, and himself. He owns that he is, at this day, the chief person aymed at by the Parliament—that is, by the friends of my Lord Chancellor, and also by the Duke of Albemarle, by reason of his unhappy showing of the Duke of Albemarle’s letter, the other day, in the House; but that he thinks that he is not liable to any hurt they can fasten on him for anything, he is so well armed to justify himself in everything, unless in the old business of selling places, when he says everybody did; and he will now not be forward to tell his own story, as he hath been; but tells me he is grown wiser, and will put them to prove anything, and he will defend himself: besides that, he will dispute the statute, thinking that it will not be found to reach him. We did talk many things, which, as they come into my mind now, I shall set down without order: that he is weary of public employment; and neither ever designed, nor will ever, if his commission were brought to him wrapped in gold, would he accept of any single place in the State, as particularly Secretary of State; which, he says, the world discourses Morrice3709 is willing to resign, and he thinks the King might have thought of him, but he would not, by any means, now take it, if given him, nor anything, but in commission with others, who may bear part of the blame; for now he observes well, that whoever did do anything singly are now in danger, however honest and painful they were, saying that he himself was the only man, he thinks, at the council-board that spoke his mind clearly, as he thought, to the good of the King; and the rest, who sat silent, have nothing said to them, nor are taken notice of. That the first time the King did take him so closely into his confidence and ministry of affairs was upon the business of Chatham, when all the disturbances were there, and in the kingdom; and then, while everybody was fancying for himself, the King did find him to persuade him to call for the Parliament, declaring that it was against his own proper interest, forasmuch as [it was] likely they would find faults with him, as well as with others, but that he would prefer the service of the King before his own: and, thereupon, the King did take him into his special notice, and, from that time to this, hath received him so; and that then he did see the folly and mistakes of the Chancellor in the management of things, and saw that matters were never likely to be done well in that sort of conduct, and did persuade the King to think fit of the taking away the seals from the Chancellor, which, when it was done, he told me that he himself, in his own particular, was sorry for it; for, while he stood, there was he and my Lord Arlington to stand between him and harm: whereas now there is only my Lord Arlington, and he is now down, so that all their fury is placed upon him but that he did tell the King, when he first moved it, that, if he thought the laying of him, W. Coventry, aside, would at all facilitate the removing of the Chancellor, he would most willingly submit to it, whereupon the King did command him to try the Duke of York about it, and persuade him to it, which he did, by the King’s command, undertake, and compass, and the Duke of York did own his consent to the King, but afterwards was brought to be of another mind for the Chancellor, and now is displeased with him, and [so is] the Duchess, so that she will not see him; but he tells me the Duke of York seems pretty kind, and hath said that he do believe that W. Coventry did mean well, and do it only out of judgment. He tells me that he never was an intriguer in his life, nor will be, nor of any combination of persons to set up this, or fling down that, nor hath, in his own business, this Parliament, spoke to three members to say anything for him, but will stand upon his own defence, and will stay by it, and thinks that he is armed against all they can [say], but the old business of selling places, and in that thinks they cannot hurt him. However, I do find him mighty willing to have his name used as little as he can, and he was glad when I did deliver him up a letter of his to me, which did give countenance to the discharging of men by ticket at Chatham, which is now coming in question; and wherein, I confess, I am sorry to find him so tender of appearing, it being a thing not only good and fit, all that was done in it, but promoted and advised by him. But he thinks the House is set upon wresting anything to his prejudice that they can pick up. He tells me he did never, as a great many have, call the Chancellor rogue and knave, and I know not what; but all that he hath said, and will stand by, is, that his counsels were not good, nor the manner of his managing of things. I suppose he means suffering the King to run in debt; for by and by the King walking in the park, with a great crowd of his idle people about him, I took occasion to say that it was a sorry thing to be a poor King, and to have others to come to correct the faults of his own servants, and that this was it that brought us all into this condition. He answered that he would never be a poor King, and then the other would mend of itself. “No,” says he, “I would eat bread and drink water first, and this day discharge all the idle company about me, and walk only with two footmen; and this I have told the King, and this must do it at last.” I asked him how long the King would suffer this. He told me the King must suffer it yet longer, that he would not advise the King to do otherwise; for it would break out again worse, if he should break them up before the core be come up. After this, we fell to other talk, of my waiting upon him hereafter, it may be, to read a chapter in Seneca, in this new house, which he hath bought, and is making very fine, when we may be out of employment, which he seems to wish more than to fear, and I do believe him heartily. Thence home, and met news from Mr. Townsend of the Wardrobe that old Young, the yeoman tailor, whose place my Lord Sandwich promised my father, is dead. Upon which, resolving presently that my father shall not be troubled with it, but I hope I shall be able to enable him to end his days where he is, in quiet, I went forth thinking to tell Mrs. Ferrers (Captain Ferrers’s wife), who do expect it after my father, that she may look after it, but upon second thoughts forbore it, and so back again home, calling at the New Exchange, and there buying The Indian Emperour, newly printed, and so home to dinner, where I had Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, and one of the Auditor’s clerks to discourse about the form of making up my accounts for the Exchequer, which did give me good satisfaction, and so after dinner, my wife, and Mercer, who grows fat, and Willett, and I, to the King’s house, and there saw The Committee, a play I like well, and so at night home and to the office, and so to my chamber about my accounts, and then to Sir W. Penn’s to speak with Sir John Chichly, who desired my advice about a prize which he hath begged of the King, and there had a great deal of his foolish talk of ladies and love and I know not what, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office, my Lord Brouncker and I close together till almost 3 after noon, never stirring, making up a report for the Committee this afternoon about the business of discharging men by ticket, which it seems the House is mighty earnest in, but is a foolery in itself, yet gives me a great deal of trouble to draw up a defence for the Board, as if it was a crime; but I think I have done it to very good purpose. Then to my Lady Williams’s, with her and my Lord, and there did eat a snapp of good victuals, and so to Westminster Hall, where we find the House not up, but sitting all this day about the method of bringing in the charge against my Lord Chancellor; and at last resolved for a Committee to draw up the heads, and so rose, and no Committee to sit tonight. Here Sir W. Coventry and Lord Brouncker and I did in the Hall (between the two Courts at the top of the Hall) discourse about a letter of [Sir] W. Coventry’s to Brouncker, whereon Brouncker did justify his discharging men by ticket, and insists on one word which Sir W. Coventry would not seem very earnest to have left out, but I did see him concerned, and did after labour to suppress the whole letter, the thing being in itself really impertinent, but yet so it is that [Sir] W. Coventry do not desire to have his name used in this business, and I have prevailed with Brouncker for it. Thence Brouncker and I to the King’s House, thinking to have gone into a box above, for fear of being seen, the King being there, but the play being 3 acts done we would not give 4s., and so away and parted, and I home, and there after a little supper to bed, my eyes ill, and head full of thoughts of the trouble this Parliament gives us.
. All the morning till past noon preparing over again our report this afternoon to the Committee of Parliament about tickets, and then home to eat a bit, and then with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, where we did a very little business with the Duke of York at our usual meeting, only I perceive that he do leave all of us, as the King do those about him, to stand and fall by ourselves, and I think is not without some cares himself what the Parliament may do in matters wherein his honour is concerned. Thence to the Parliament-house; where, after the Committee was sat, I was called in; and the first thing was upon the complaint of a dirty slut that was there, about a ticket which she had lost, and had applied herself to me for another. … I did give them a short and satisfactory answer to that; and so they sent her away, and were ashamed of their foolery, in giving occasion to 500 seamen and seamen’s wives to come before them, as there was this afternoon. But then they fell to the business of tickets, and I did give them the best answer I could, but had not scope to do it in the methodical manner which I had prepared myself for, but they did ask a great many broken rude questions about it, and were mightily hot whether my Lord Brouncker had any order to discharge whole ships by ticket, and because my answer was with distinction, and not direct, I did perceive they were not so fully satisfied therewith as I could wish they were. So my Lord Brouncker was called in, and they could fasten nothing on him that I could see, nor indeed was there any proper matter for blame, but I do see, and it was said publicly in the House by Sir T. Clerges that Sir W. Batten had designed the business of discharging men by ticket and an order after the thing was done to justify my Lord Brouncker for having done it. But this I did not own at all, nor was it just so, though he did indeed do something like it, yet had contributed as much to it as any man of the board by sending down of tickets to do it. But, Lord! to see that we should be brought to justify ourselves in a thing of necessity and profit to the King, and of no profit or convenience to us, but the contrary. We being withdrawn, we heard no more of it, but there stayed late and do hear no more, only my cousin Pepys do tell me that he did hear one or two whisper as if they thought that I do bogle at the business of my Lord Brouncker, which is a thing I neither did or have reason to do in his favour, but I do not think it fit to make him suffer for a thing that deserves well. But this do trouble me a little that anything should stick to my prejudice in any of them, and did trouble me so much that all the way home with Sir W. Penn I was not at good ease, nor all night, though when I come home I did find my wife, and Betty Turner, the two Mercers, and Mrs. Parker, an ugly lass, but yet dances well, and speaks the best of them, and W. Batelier, and Pembleton dancing; and here I danced with them, and had a good supper, and as merry as I could be, and so they being gone we to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and at noon Mr. Creed and Yeabsly dined with me (my wife gone to dine with Mrs. Pierce and see a play with her), and after dinner in comes Mr. Turner, of Eynsbury,3710 lately come to town, and also after him Captain Hill3711 of the Coventry, who lost her at Barbados, and is come out of France, where he hath been long prisoner. After a great deal of mixed discourse, and then Mr. Turner and I alone a little in my closet, talking about my Lord Sandwich (who I hear is now ordered by the King to come home again), we all parted, and I by water, calling at Michell’s, and saw and once kissed su wife, but I do think that he is jealous of her, and so she dares not stand out of his sight; so could not do more, but away by water to the Temple, and there, after spending a little time in my bookseller’s shop, I to Westminster; and there at the lobby do hear by Commissioner Pett, to my great amazement, that he is in worse condition than before, by the coming in of the Duke of Albemarle’s and Prince Rupert’s Narratives3712 this day; wherein the former do most severely lay matters upon him, so as the House this day have, I think, ordered him to the Tower again, or something like it; so that the poor man is likely to be overthrown, I doubt, right or wrong, so infinite fond they are of anything the Duke of Albemarle says or writes to them! I did then go down, and there met with Colonel Reames and cousin Roger Pepys; and there they do tell me how the Duke of Albemarle and the Prince have laid blame on a great many, and particularly on our Office in general; and particularly for want of provision, wherein I shall come to be questioned again in that business myself; which do trouble me. But my cousin Pepys and I had much discourse alone: and he do bewail the constitution of this House, and says there is a direct caball and faction, as much as is possible between those for and those against the Chancellor, and so in other factions, that there is nothing almost done honestly and with integrity; only some few, he says, there are, that do keep out of all plots and combinations, and when their time comes will speak and see right done, if possible; and that he himself is looked upon to be a man that will be of no faction, and so they do shun to make him; and I am glad of it. He tells me that he thanks God he never knew what it was to be tempted to be a knave in his life; till he did come into the House of Commons, where there is nothing done but by passion, and faction, and private interest. Reames did tell me of a fellow last night (one Kelsy, a commander of a fire-ship, who complained for want of his money paid him) did say that he did see one of the Commissioners of the Navy bring in three wagon-loads of prize-goods into Greenwich one night; but that the House did take no notice of it, nor enquire; but this is me, and I must expect to be called to account, and answer what I did as well as I can. So thence away home, and in Holborne, going round, it being dark, I espied Sir D. Gawden’s coach, and so went out of mine into his; and there had opportunity to talk of the business of victuals, which the Duke of Albemarle and Prince did complain that they were in want of the last year: but we do conclude we shall be able to show quite the contrary of that; only it troubles me that we must come to contend with these great persons, which will overrun us. So with some disquiet in my mind on this account I home, and there comes Mr. Yeabsly, and he and I to even some accounts, wherein I shall be a gainer about £200, which is a seasonable profit, for I have got nothing a great while; and he being gone, I to bed.
November 1667
. Up betimes, and down to the waterside (calling and drinking a dram of the bottle at Michell’s, but saw not Betty), and thence to Whitehall and to Sir W. Coventry’s lodging, where he and I alone a good while, where he gives me the full of the Duke of Albemarle’s and Prince’s narratives, given yesterday by the House, wherein they fall foul of him and Sir G. Carteret in something about the dividing of the fleet, and the Prince particularly charging the Commissioners of the Navy with negligence, he says the Commissioners of the Navy whereof Sir W. Coventry is one. He tells me that he is prepared to answer any particular most thoroughly, but the quality of the persons do make it difficult for him, and so I do see is in great pain, poor man, though he deserves better than twenty such as either of them, for his abilities and true service to the King and kingdom. He says there is incoherences, he believes, to be found between their two reports, which will be pretty work to consider. The Duke of Albemarle charges W. Coventry that he should tell him, when he come down to the fleet with Sir G. Carteret, to consult about dividing the fleet,3713 that the Dutch would not be out in six weeks, which W. Coventry says is as false as is possible, and he can prove the contrary by the Duke of Albemarle’s own letters. The Duke of Albemarle says that he did upon sight of the Dutch call a council of officers, and they did conclude they could not avoid fighting the Dutch; and yet we did go to the enemy, and found them at anchor, which is a pretty contradiction. And he tells me that Spragg did the other day say in the House, that the Prince, at his going from the Duke of Albemarle with his fleet, did tell him that if the Dutch should come on, the Duke was to follow him, the Prince, with his fleet, and not fight the Dutch. Out of all this a great deal of good might well be picked. But it is a sad consideration that all this picking of holes in one another’s coats—nay, and the thanks of the House to the Prince and the Duke of Albemarle, and all this envy and design to ruin Sir W. Coventry—did arise from Sir W. Coventry’s unfortunate mistake the other day, in producing of a letter from the Duke of Albemarle, touching the good condition of all things at Chatham just before the Dutch come up, and did us that fatal mischiefe; for upon this they are resolved to undo him, and I pray God they do not. He tells me upon my demanding it that he thinks the King do not like this their bringing these narratives, and that they give out that they would have said more but that the King hath hindered them, that I suppose is about my Lord Sandwich. He is getting a copy of the Narratives, which I shall then have, and so I parted from him and away to Whitehall, where I met Mr. Creed and Yeabsly, and discoursed a little about Mr. Yeabsly’s business and accounts, and so I to chapel and there stayed, it being All Hallows’ Day, and heard a fine anthem, made by Pelham3714 (who is come over) in France, of which there was great expectation, and indeed is a very good piece of music, but still I cannot call the Anthem anything but instrumentall music with the voice, for nothing is made of the words at all. I this morning before chapel visited Sir G. Carteret, who is vexed to see how things are likely to go, but cannot help it, and yet seems to think himself mighty safe. I also visited my Lord Hinchingbroke, at his chamber at Whitehall, where I found Mr. Turner, Moore, and Creed, talking of my Lord Sandwich, whose case I doubt is but bad, and, I fear, will not escape being worse, though some of the company did say otherwise. But I am mightily pleased with my Lord Hinchingbroke’s sobriety and few words. After chapel I with Creed to the Exchange, and after much talk he and I there about securing of some money either by land or goods to be always at our command, which we think a thing advisable in this critical time, we parted, and I to the Sun Tavern with Sir W. Warren (with whom I have not drank many a day, having for some time been strange to him), and there did put it to him to advise me how to dispose of my prize, which he will think of and do to my best advantage. We talked of several other things relating to his service, wherein I promise assistance, but coldly, thinking it policy to do so, and so, after eating a short dinner, I away home, and there took out my wife, and she and I alone to the King’s playhouse, and there saw a silly play and an old one, The Taming of a Shrew,3715 and so home and I to my office a little, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning; at noon home, and after dinner my wife and Willett and I to the King’s playhouse, and there saw Henry the Fourth: and contrary to expectation, was pleased in nothing more than in Cartwright’s3716 speaking of Falstaffe’s speech about “What is Honour?” The house full of Parliament-men, it being holyday with them: and it was observable how a gentleman of good habit, sitting just before us, eating of some fruit in the midst of the play, did drop down as dead, being choked; but with much ado Orange Moll did thrust her finger down his throat, and brought him to life again. After the play, we home, and I busy at the office late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with my wife to church, and thither comes Roger Pepys to our pew, and thence home to dinner, whither comes by invitation Mr. Turner, the minister, and my cousin Roger brought with him Jeffrys, the apothecary at Westminster, who is our kinsman, and we had much discourse of Cottenhamshire,3717 and other things with great pleasure. My cousin Roger did tell me of a bargain which I may now have in Norfolke, that my she-cousin, Nan Pepys, is going to sell, the title whereof is very good, and the pennyworth is also good enough; but it is out of the way so of my life, that I shall never enjoy it, nor, it may be, see it, and so I shall have nothing to do with it. After dinner to talk, and I find by discourse Mr. Turner to be a man mighty well read in the Roman history, which is very pleasant. By and by Roger went, and Mr. Turner spent an hour talking over my Lord Sandwich’s condition as to this Parliament, which we fear may be bad, and the condition of his family, which can be no better, and then having little to comfort ourselves but that this humour will not last always in the Parliament, and that [it] may well have a great many more as great men as he enquired into, and so we parted, and I to my chamber, and there busy all the evening, and then my wife and I to supper, and so to bed, with much discourse and pleasure one with another.
. Up betimes, and by water with Sir R. Ford (who is going to Parliament) to Westminster; and there landing at the New Exchange stairs, I to Sir W. Coventry: and there he read over to me the Prince’s and the Duke of Albemarle’s Narratives; wherein they are very severe against him and our Office. But [Sir] W. Coventry do contemn them; only that their persons and qualities are great, and so I do perceive [he] is afeard of them, though he will not confess it. But he do say that, if he can get out of these briars, he will never trouble himself with Princes nor Dukes again. He finds several things in their Narratives, which are both inconsistent and foolish, as well as untrue, especially as to what the Duke of Albemarle avers of his knowing of the enemy’s being abroad sooner than he says it, which [Sir] W. Coventry will show him his own letter against him, for I confess I do see so much, that, were I but well possessed of what I should have in the world, I think I could willingly retreat, and trouble myself no more with it. Thence home, and there met Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to the Excise Office to see what tallies are paying, and thence back to the Old Exchange, by the way talking of news, and he owning Sir W. Coventry, in his opinion, to be one of the worthiest men in the nation, as I do really think he is. He tells me he do think really that they will cut off my Lord Chancellor’s head, the Chancellor at this day showing as much pride as is possible to those few that venture their fortunes by coming to see him; and that the Duke of York is troubled much, knowing that those that fling down the Chancellor cannot stop there, but will do something to him, to prevent his having it in his power hereafter to avenge himself and father-in-law upon them. And this Sir H. Cholmly fears may be by divorcing the Queen and getting another, or declaring the Duke of Monmouth legitimate; which God forbid! He tells me he do verily believe that there will come in an impeachment of High Treason against my Lord of Ormond;3718 among other things, for ordering the quartering of soldiers in Ireland on free quarters; which, it seems, is High Treason in that country, and was one of the things that lost the Lord Strafford his head, and the law is not yet repealed; which, he says, was a mighty oversight of him not to have it repealed, which he might with ease have done, or have justified himself by an Act. From the Exchange I took a coach, and went to Turlington, the great spectacle-maker, for advice, who dissuades me from using old spectacles, but rather young ones, and do tell me that nothing can wrong my eyes more than for me to use reading-glasses, which do magnify much. Thence home, and there dined, and then abroad and left my wife and Willett at her tailor’s, and I to Whitehall, where the Commissioners of the Treasury do not sit, and therefore I to Westminster to the Hall, and there meeting with Col. Reames I did very cheaply by him get copies of the Prince’s and Duke of Albemarle’s Narratives, which they did deliver the other day to the House, of which I am mighty glad, both for my present information and for my future satisfaction. So back by coach, and took up my wife, and away home, and there in my chamber all the evening among my papers and my accounts of Tangier to my great satisfaction, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, and thence out with my wife and girl, and left them at her tailor’s, and I to the Treasury, and there did a little business for Tangier, and so took them up again, and home, and when I had done at the office, being post night, I to my chamber, and there did something more, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to Westminster, where to the Parliament door, and there spoke with Sir G. Downing, to see what was done yesterday at the Treasury for Tangier, and it proved as good as nothing, so that I do see we shall be brought to great straits for money there. He tells me here that he is passing a Bill to make the Excise and every other part of the King’s Revenue assignable on the Exchequer, which indeed will be a very good thing. This he says with great glee as an act of his, and how poor a thing this was in the beginning, and with what envy he carried it on, and how my Lord Chancellor could never endure him for it since he first begun it. He tells me that the thing the House is just now upon is that of taking away the charter from the Company of Woodmongers,3719 whose frauds, it seems, have been mightily laid before them. He tells me that they are like to fly very high against my Lord Chancellor. Thence I to the House of Lords, and there first saw Dr. Fuller, as Bishop of Lincoln, to sit among the Lords. Here I spoke with the Duke of York and the Duke of Albemarle about Tangier; but methinks both of them do look very coldly one upon another, and their discourse mighty cold, and little to the purpose about our want of money. Thence homeward, and called at Allestry’s,3720 the bookseller, who is bookseller to the Royal Society, and there did buy three or four books, and find great variety of French and foreign books. And so home and to dinner, and after dinner with my wife to a play, and the girl—Macbeth, which we still like mightily, though mighty short of the content we used to have when Betterton acted, who is still sick. So home, troubled with the way and to get a coach, and so to supper and to bed. This day, in the Paynted-chamber, I met and walked with Mr. George Montagu, who thinks it may go hard with my Lord Sandwich, but he says the House is offended with Sir W. Coventry much, and that he do endeavour to gain them again in the most precarious manner in all things that is possible.
. Up, and at the office hard all the morning, and at noon resolved with Sir W. Penn to go see The Tempest, an old play of Shakespeare’s, acted, I hear, the first day; and so my wife, and girl, and W. Hewer by themselves, and Sir W. Penn and I afterwards by ourselves; and forced to sit in the side balcone over against the music-room at the Duke’s house, close by my Lady Dorset3721 and a great many great ones. The house mighty full; the King and Court there and the most innocent play that ever I saw; and a curious piece of music3722 in an echo of half sentences, the echo repeating the former half, while the man goes on to the latter; which is mighty pretty. The play [has] no great wit, but yet good, above ordinary plays. Thence home with [Sir] W. Penn, and there all mightily pleased with the play; and so to supper and to bed, after having done at the office.
. Called up betimes by Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to good purpose most of the morning—I in my dressing-gown with him, on our Tangier accounts, and stated them well; and here he tells me that he believes it will go hard with my Lord Chancellor. Thence I to the office, where met on some special business; and here I hear that the Duke of York is very ill; and by and by word brought us that we shall not need to attend today the Duke of York, for he is not well, which is bad news. They being gone, I to my workmen, who this day come to alter my office, by beating down the wall, and making me a fair window both there, and increasing the window of my closet, which do give me some present trouble; but will be mighty pleasant. So all the whole day among them to very late, and so home weary, to supper, and to bed, troubled for the Duke of York his being sick.
. Up and to my workmen, who are at work close again, and I at the office all the morning, and there do hear by a messenger that Roger Pepys would speak with me, so before the office up I to Westminster, and there find the House very busy, and like to be so all day, about my Lord Chancellor’s impeachment,3723 whether treason or not, where everybody is mighty busy. I spoke with my cousin Roger, whose business was only to give me notice that Carcasse hath been before the Committee; and to warn me of it, which is a great courtesy in him to do, and I desire him to continue to do so. This business of this fellow, though it may be a foolish thing, yet it troubles me, and I do plainly see my weakness that I am not a man able to go through trouble, as other men, but that I should be a miserable man if I should meet with adversity, which God keep me from! He desirous to get back into the House, he having his notes in his hand, the lawyers being now speaking to the point of whether treason or not treason, the article of advising the King to break up the Parliament, and to govern by the sword. Thence I down to the Hall, and there met Mr. King,3724 the Parliament-man for Harwich, and there he did show, and let me take a copy of, all the articles against my Lord Chancellor, and what members they were that undertook to bring witnesses to make them good, of which I was mighty glad, and so away home, and to dinner and to my workmen, and in the afternoon out to get Simpson the joiner to come to work at my office, and so back home and to my letters by the post tonight, and there, by W. Penn, do hear that this article was overvoted in the House not to be a ground of impeachment of treason, at which I was glad, being willing to have no blood spilt, if I could help it. So home to supper, and glad that the dirty bricklayers’ work of my office is done, and home to supper and to bed.
. Mighty cold, and with my wife to church, where a lazy sermon. Here was my Lady Batten in her mourning at church, but I took no notice of her. At noon comes Michell and his wife to dine with us, and pretty merry. I glad to see her still. After dinner Sir W. Penn and I to Whitehall, to speak with Sir W. Coventry; and there, beyond all we looked for, do hear that the Duke of York hath got, and is full of, the smallpox; and so we to his lodgings; and there find most of the family going to St. James’s, and the gallery doors locked up, that nobody might pass to nor fro and a sad house, I am sure. I am sad to consider the effects of his death, if he should miscarry; but Dr. Frazier tells me that he is in as good condition as a man can be in his case. The eruption appeared last night; it seems he was let blood on Friday. Thence, not finding [Sir] W. Coventry, and going back again home, we met him coming with the Lord Keeper, and so returned and spoke with him in Whitehall Garden, two or three turns, advising with him what we should do about Carcasse’s bringing his letter into the Committee of Parliament, and he told us that the counsel he hath too late learned is, to spring nothing in the House, nor offer anything, but just what is drawn out of a man: that this is the best way of dealing with a Parliament, and that he hath paid dear, and knows not how much more he may pay, for not knowing it sooner, when he did unnecessarily produce the Duke of Albemarle’s letter about Chatham, which if demanded would have come out with all the advantages in the world to Sir W. Coventry, but, as he brought it out himself, hath drawn much evil upon him. After some talk of this kind, we back home, and there I to my chamber busy all the evening, and then to supper and to bed, my head running all night upon our businesses in Parliament and what examinations we are likely to go under before they have done with us, which troubles me more than it should a wise man and a man the best able to defend himself, I believe, of our own whole office, or any other, I am apt to think.
. Up, and to Simpson at work in my office, and thence with Sir G. Carteret (who come to talk with me) to Broad Street, where great crowding of people for money, at which he blamed himself. Thence with him and Lord Brouncker to Captain Cocke’s (he out of doors), and there drank their morning draught, and thence [Sir] G. Carteret and I toward the Temple in coach together; and there he did tell me how the King do all he can in the world to overthrow my Lord Chancellor, and that notice is taken of every man about the King that is not seen to promote the ruin of the Chancellor; and that this being another great day in his business, he dares not but be there. He tells me that as soon as Secretary Morrice brought the Great Seale from my Lord Chancellor, Bab. May3725 fell upon his knees, and catched the King about the legs, and joyed him, and said that this was the first time that ever he could call him King of England, being freed from this great man: which was a most ridiculous saying. And he told me that, when first my Lord Gerard, a great while ago, come to the King, and told him that the Chancellor did say openly that the King was a lazy person and not fit to govern, which is now made one of the things in the people’s mouths against the Chancellor, “Why,” says the King, “that is no news, for he hath told me so twenty times, and but the other day he told me so;” and made matter of mirth at it: but yet this light discourse is likely to prove bad to him. I ’light at the Temple, and went to my tailor’s and mercer’s about a cloake, to choose the stuff, and so to my bookseller’s and bought some books, and so home to dinner, and Simpson my joiner with me, and after dinner, my wife, and I, and Willett, to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Indian Emperour, a good play, but not so good as people cry it up, I think, though above all things Nell’s ill speaking of a great part made me mad. Thence with great trouble and charge getting a coach (it being now and having been all this day a most cold and foggy, dark, thick day), we home, and there I to my office, and saw it made clean from top to bottom, till I feared I took cold in walking in a damp room while it is in washing, and so home to supper and to bed. This day I had a whole doe sent me by Mr. Hozier, which is a fine present, and I had the umbles of it for dinner. This day I hear Kirton, my bookseller, poor man, is dead, I believe, of grief for his losses by the fire.
. Up, and to the Office, where sat all the morning; and there hear the Duke of York do yet do very well with his smallpox: pray God he may continue to do so! This morning also, to my astonishment, I hear that yesterday my Lord Chancellor, to another of his Articles, that of betraying the King’s councils to his enemies, is voted to have matter against him for an impeachment of High Treason, and that this day the impeachment is to be carried up to the House of Lords which is very high, and I am troubled at it; for God knows what will follow, since they that do this must do more to secure themselves against any that will revenge this, if it ever come in their power! At noon home to dinner, and then to my office, and there saw everything finished, so as my papers are all in order again and my office twice as pleasant as ever it was, having a noble window in my closet and another in my office, to my great content, and so did business late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and down to the Old Swan, and so to Westminster; where I find the House sitting, and in a mighty heat about Commissioner Pett, that they would have him impeached, though the Committee have yet brought in but part of their Report: and this heat of the House is much heightened by Sir Thomas Clifford telling them, that he was the man that did, out of his own purse, employ people at the outports to prevent the King of Scots to escape after the battle of Worcester. The House was in a great heat all this day about it; and at last it was carried, however, that it should be referred back to the Committee to make further enquiry. I here spoke with Roger Pepys, who sent for me, and it was to tell me that the Committee is mighty full of the business of buying and selling of tickets, and to caution me against such an enquiry (wherein I am very safe), and that they have already found out Sir Richard Ford’s son to have had a hand in it, which they take to be the same as if the father had done it, and I do believe the father may be as likely to be concerned in it as his son. But I perceive by him they are resolved to find out the bottom of the business if it be possible. By and by I met with Mr. Wren, who tells me that the Duke of York is in as good condition as is possible for a man, in his condition of the smallpox. He, I perceive, is mightily concerned in the business of my Lord Chancellor, the impeachment against whom is gone up to the House of Lords; and great differences there are in the Lords’ House about it, and the Lords are very high one against another. Thence home to dinner, and as soon as dinner done I and my wife and Willet to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw the Tempest again, which is very pleasant, and full of so good variety that I cannot be more pleased almost in a comedy, only the seamen’s part a little too tedious. Thence home, and there to my chamber, and do begin anew to bind myself to keep my old vows, and among the rest not to see a play till Christmas but once in every other week, and have laid aside £10, which is to be lost to the poor, if I do. This I hope in God will bind me, for I do find myself mightily wronged in my reputation, and indeed in my purse and business, by my late following of my pleasure for so long time as I have done. So to supper and then to bed. This day Mr. Chichly3726 told me, with a seeming trouble, that the House have stopped his son Jack (Sir John) his going to France, that he may be a witness against my Lord Sandwich: which do trouble me, though he can, I think, say little.
. At the office close all the morning. At noon, all my clerks with me to dinner, to a venison pasty; and there comes Creed, and dined with me, and he tells me how high the Lords were in the Lords’ House about the business of the Chancellor, and that they are not yet agreed to impeach him. After dinner, he and I, and my wife and girl, the latter two to their tailor’s, and he and I to the Committee of the Treasury, where I had a hearing, but can get but £6,000 for the pay of the garrison, in lieu of above £16,000; and this Alderman Backewell gets remitted there, and I am glad of it. Thence by coach took up my wife and girl, and so home, and set down Creed at Arundell House, going to the Royal Society, whither I would be glad to go, but cannot. Thence home, and to the Office, where about my letters, and so home to supper, and to bed, my eyes being bad again; and by this means, the nights, nowadays, do become very long to me, longer than I can sleep out.
. Up, and to Alderman Backewell’s3727 and there discoursed with him about the remitting of this £6,000 to Tangier, which he hath promised to do by the first post, and that will be by Monday next, the 18th, and he and I agreed that I would take notice of it that so he may be found to have done his best upon the desire of the Lords Commissioners. From this we went to discourse of his condition, and he with some vain glory told me that the business of Sheerness did make him quite mad, and indeed might well have undone him; but yet that he did the very next day pay here and got bills to answer his promise to the King for the Swedes Embassadors (who were then doing our business at the treaty at Breda) £7,000, and did promise the Bankers there, that if they would draw upon him all that he had of theirs and £10,000 more, he would answer it. He told me that Serjeant Maynard come to him for a sum of money that he had in his hands of his, and so did many others, and his answer was, What countrymen are you? And when they told him, why then, says he, here is a tally upon the Receiver of your country for so [much], and to yours for so much, and did offer to lay by tallies to the full value of all that he owed in the world, and £40,000 more for the security thereof, and not to touch a penny of his own till the full of what he owed was paid, which so pleased everybody that he hath mastered all, so that he hath lent the Commissioners of the Treasury above £40,000 in money since that business, and did this morning offer to a lady who come to give him notice that she should need her money £3,000, in twenty days, he bid her if she pleased send for it today and she should have it. Which is a very great thing, and will make them greater than ever they were, I am apt to think, in some time. Thence to Westminster, and there I walked with several, and do hear that there is to be a conference between the two Houses today; so I stayed: and it was only to tell the Commons that the Lords cannot agree to the confining or sequestring of the Earl of Clarendon from the Parliament, forasmuch as they do not specify any particular crime which they lay upon him and call Treason. This the House did receive, and so parted: at which, I hear, the Commons are like to grow very high, and will insist upon their privileges, and the Lords will own theirs, though the Duke of Buckingham, Bristoll, and others, have been very high in the House of Lords to have had him committed. This is likely to breed ill blood. Thence I away home, calling at my mercer’s and tailor’s, and there find, as I expected, Mr. Caesar and little Pelham Humphreys, lately returned from France, and is an absolute Monsieur, as full of form, and confidence, and vanity, and disparages everything, and everybody’s skill but his own. The truth is, everybody says he is very able, but to hear how he laughs at all the King’s music here, as Blagrave3728 and others, that they cannot keep time nor tune, nor understand anything; and that Grebus,3729 the Frenchman, the King’s master of the music, how he understands nothing, nor can play on any instrument, and so cannot compose: and that he will give him a lift out of his place; and that he and the King are mighty great! and that he hath already spoke to the King of Grebus would make a man piss. I had a good dinner for them, as a venison pasty and some fowl, and after dinner we did play, he on the theorbo, Mr. Caesar on his French lute, and I on the viol, but made but mean music, nor do I see that this Frenchman do so much wonders on the theorbo, but without question he is a good musician, but his vanity do offend me. They gone, towards night, I to the office awhile, and then home and to my chamber, where busy till by and by comes Mr. Moore, and he stayed and supped and talked with me about many things, and tells me his great fear that all things will go to ruin among us, for that the King hath, as he says Sir Thomas Crew told him, been heard to say that the quarrel is not between my Lord Chancellor and him, but his brother and him; which will make sad work among us if that be once promoted, as to be sure it will, Buckingham and Bristoll being now the only counsel the King follows, so as Arlington and Coventry are come to signify little. He tells me they are likely to fall upon my Lord Sandwich; but, for my part, sometimes I am apt to think they cannot do him much harm, he telling me that there is no great fear of the business of Resumption.3730 By and by, I got him to read part of my Lord Cooke’s chapter of treason,3731 which is mighty well worth reading, and do inform me in many things, and for aught I see it is useful now to know what these crimes are. And then to supper, and after supper he went away, and so I got the girl to comb my head, and then to bed, my eyes bad. This day, Poundy, the waterman, was with me, to let me know that he was summonsed to bear witness against me to Prince Rupert’s people (who have a commission to look after the business of prize-goods) about the business of the prize-goods I was concerned in: but I did desire him to speak all he knew, and not to spare me, nor did promise nor give him anything, but sent him away with good words, to bid him say all he knew to be true. This do not trouble me much.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon took my Lord Brouncker into the garden, and there told him of his man Carcasse’s proceedings against the Office in the House of Commons. I did [not] desire nor advise him anything, but in general, that the end of this might be ruin to the Office, but that we shall be brought to fencing for ourselves, and that will be no profit to the office, but let it light where it would I thought I should be as well as anybody. This I told him, and so he seeming to be ignorant of it, and not pleased with it, we broke off by Sir Thos. Harvy’s coming to us from the Pay Office, whither we had sent a smart letter we had writ to him this morning about keeping the clerks at work at the making up the books, which I did to place the fault somewhere, and now I let him defend himself. He was mighty angry, and particularly with me, but I do not care, but do rather desire it, for I will not spare him, that we shall bear the blame, and such an idle fellow as he have £500 a year for nothing. So we broke off, and I home to dinner, and then to the office, and having spent the afternoon on letters, I took coach in the evening, and to Whitehall, where there is to be a performance of music of Pelham’s before the King. The company not come; but I did go into the music-room, where Captain Cocke and many others; and here I did hear the best and the smallest organ go that ever I saw in my life, and such a one as, by the grace of God, I will have the next year, if I continue in this condition, whatever it cost me. I never was so pleased in my life. Thence, it being too soon, I to Westminster Hall, it being now about 7 at night, and there met Mr. Gregory, my old acquaintance, an understanding gentleman; and he and I walked an hour together, talking of the bad prospect of the times; and the sum of what I learn from him is this: That the King is the most concerned in the world against the Chancellor, and all people that do not appear against him, and therefore is angry with the Bishops, having said that he had one Bishop on his side (Crofts),3732 and but one: that Buckingham and Bristoll are now his only Cabinet Council;3733 and that, before the Duke of York fell sick, Buckingham was admitted to the King of his Cabinet, and there stayed with him several hours, and the Duke of York shut out. That it is plain that there is dislike between the King and Duke of York, and that it is to be feared that the House will go so far against the Chancellor, that they must do something to undo the Duke of York, or will not think themselves safe. That this Lord Vaughan,3734 that is so great against the Chancellor, is one of the lewdest fellows of the age, worse than Sir Charles Sidly; and that he was heard to swear, God damn him, he would do my Lord Clarendon’s business. That he do find that my Lord Clarendon hath more friends in both Houses than he believes he would have, by reason that they do see what are the hands that pull him down; which they do not like. That Harry Coventry was scolded at by the King severely the other day; and that his answer was that, if he must not speak what he thought in this business in Parliament, he must not come thither. And he says that by this very business Harry Coventry hath got more fame and common esteem than any gentleman in England hath at this day, and is an excellent and able person. That the King, who not long ago did say of Bristoll, that he was a man able in three years to get himself a fortune in any kingdom in the world, and lose all again in three months, do now hug him, and commend his parts everywhere, above all the world. How fickle is this man [the King], and how unhappy we like to be! That he fears some furious courses will be taken against the Duke of York; and that he hath heard that it was designed, if they cannot carry matters against the Chancellor, to impeach the Duke of York himself, which God forbid! That Sir Edward Nicholas, whom he served while Secretary, is one of the best men in the world, but hated by the Queen-Mother, for a service he did the old King against her mind and her favourites; and that she and my Lady Castlemayne did make the King to lay him aside: but this man3735 says that he is one of the most perfect heavenly and charitable men in the whole world. That the House of Commons resolve to stand by their proceedings, and have chosen a Committee to draw up the reasons thereof to carry to the Lords; which is likely to breed great heat between them. That the Parliament, after all this, is likely to give the King no money; and, therefore, that it is to be wondered what makes the King give way to so great extravagancies, which do all tend to the making him less than he is, and so will, every day more and more: and by this means every creature is divided against the other, that there never was so great an uncertainty in England, of what would, be the event of things, as at this day; nobody being at ease, or safe. Being full of his discourse, and glad of the rencontre, I to Whitehall; and there got into the theater-room, and there heard both the vocall and instrumentall music, where the little fellow3736 stood keeping time; but for my part, I see no great matter, but quite the contrary in both sorts of music. The composition I believe is very good, but no more of delightfulness to the ear or understanding but what is very ordinary. Here was the King and Queen, and some of the ladies; among whom none more jolly than my Lady Buckingham,3737 her Lord being once more a great man. Thence by coach home and to my office, ended my letters, and then home to supper, and, my eyes being bad, to bed.
. Up, and to church with my wife. A dull sermon of Mr. Mills, and then home, without strangers to dinner, and then my wife to read, and I to the office, enter my journal to this day, and so home with great content that it is done, but with sorrow to my eyes. Then home, and got my wife to read to me out of Fuller’s Church History, when by and by comes Captain Cocke, who sat with me all the evening, talking, and I find by him, as by all others, that we are like to expect great confusions, and most of our discourse was the same, and did agree with that the last night, particularly that about the difference between the King and the Duke of York which is like to be. He tells me that he hears that Sir W. Coventry was, a little before the Duke of York fell sick, with the Duke of York in his closet, and fell on his knees, and begged his pardon for what he hath done to my Lord Chancellor; but this I dare not soon believe. But he tells me another thing, which he says he had from the person himself who spoke with the Duke of Buckingham, who, he says, is a very sober and worthy man, that he did lately speak with the Duke of Buckingham about his greatness now with the King, and told him—“But, sir, these things that the King do now, in suffering the Parliament to do all this, you know are not fit for the King to suffer, and you know how often you have said to me that the King was a weak man, and unable to govern, but to be governed, and that you could command him as you listed; why do you suffer him to go on in these things?”—“Why,” says the Duke of Buckingham, “I do suffer him to do this, that I may hereafter the better command him.” This he swears to me the person himself to whom the Duke of Buckingham said this did tell it him, and is a man of worth, understanding, and credit. He told me one odd passage by the Duke of Albemarle, speaking how hasty a man he is, and how for certain he would have killed Sir W. Coventry, had he met him in a little time after his showing his letter in the House. He told me that a certain lady, whom he knows, did tell him that, she being certainly informed that some of the Duke of Albemarle’s family did say that the Earl of Torrington3738 was a bastard, [she] did think herself concerned to tell the Duke of Albemarle of it, and did first tell the Duchess, and was going to tell the old man, when the Duchess pulled her back by the sleeve, and hindered her, swearing to her that if he should hear it, he would certainly kill the servant that should be found to have said it, and therefore prayed her to hold her peace. One thing more he told me, which is, that Garraway is come to town, and is thinking how to bring the House to mind the public state of the nation and to put off these particular piques against man and man, and that he propounding this to Sir W. Coventry, Sir W. Coventry did give no encouragement to it: which he says is that by their running after other men he may escape. But I do believe this is not true neither. But however I am glad that Garraway is here, and that he do begin to think of the public condition in reference to our neighbours that we are in, and in reference to ourselves, whereof I am mightily afeard of trouble. So to supper, and he gone and we to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at my office till 3 after noon with Mr. Hater about perfecting my little pocket market book of the office, till my eyes were ready to fall out of my head, and then home to dinner, glad that I had done so much, and so abroad to Whitehall, to the Commissioners of the Treasury, and there did a little business with them, and so home, leaving multitudes of solicitors at their door, of one sort or other, complaining for want of such despatch as they had in my Lord Treasurer’s time, when I believe more business was despatched, but it was in his manner to the King’s wrong. Among others here was Gresham College coming about getting a grant of Chelsey College3739 for their Society, which the King, it seems, hath given them his right in; but they met with some other pretences, I think; to it, besides the King’s. Thence took up my wife, whom I had left at her tailor’s, and home, and there, to save my eyes, got my wife at home to read again, as last night, in the same book, till W. Batelier come and spent the evening talking with us, and supped with us, and so to bed.
. To the office, and thence before noon I, by the Board’s direction, to the Parliament House to speak with Sir R. Brookes about the meaning of an order come to us this day to bring all the books of the office to the Committee. I find by him that it is only about the business of an order of ours for paying off the ships by ticket, which they think I on behalf of my Lord Brouncker do suppress, which vexes me, and more at its occasioning the bringing them our books. So home and to dinner, where Mr. Shepley with me, newly come out of the country, but I was at little liberty to talk to him, but after dinner with two contracts to the Committee, with Lord Brouncker and Sir T. Harvy, and there did deliver them, and promised at their command more, but much against my will. And here Sir R. Brookes did take me alone, and pray me to prevent their trouble, by discovering the order he would have. I told him I would suppress none, nor could, but this did not satisfy him, and so we parted, I vexed that I should bring on myself this suspicion. Here I did stand by unseen, and did hear their impertinent yet malicious examinations of some rogues about the business of Bergen, wherein they would wind in something against my Lord Sandwich (it was plain by their manner of examining, as Sir Thomas Crew did afterwards observe to me, who was there), but all amounted to little I think. But here Sir Thomas Crew and W. Hewer, who was there also, did tell me that they did hear Captain Downing give a cruel testimony against my Lord Brouncker, for his neglect, and doing nothing, in the time of straits at Chatham, when he was spoke to, and did tell the Committee that he, Downing, did presently after, in Lord Brouncker’s hearing, tell the Duke of Albemarle, that if he might advise the King, he should hang both my Lord Brouncker and Pett. This is very hard. Thence with W. Hewer and our messenger, Marlow, home by coach, and so late at letters, and then home to supper, and my wife to read and then to bed. This night I wrote to my father, in answer to a new match which is proposed (the executor of Ensum, my sister’s former servant) for my sister, that I will continue my mind of giving her £500, if he likes of the match. My father did also this week, by Shepley, return me up a guinea, which, it seems, upon searching the ground, they have found since I was there. I was told this day that Lory Hide,3740 second son of my Lord Chancellor, did some time since in the House say, that if he thought his father was guilty but of one of the things then said against him, he would be the first that should call for judgement against him:3741 which Mr. Waller, the poet, did say was spoke like the old Roman, like Brutus, for its greatness and worthiness.
. Up, and all the morning at my office shut up with Mr. Gibson, I walking and he reading to me the order books of the office from the beginning of the war, for preventing the Parliament’s having them in their hands before I have looked them over and seen the utmost that can be said against us from any of our orders, and to my great content all the morning I find none. So at noon home to dinner with my clerks, who have of late dined frequently with me, and I do purpose to have them so still, by that means I having opportunity to talk with them about business, and I love their company very well. All the morning Mr. Hater and the boy did shut up themselves at my house doing something towards the finishing the abstract book of our contracts for my pocket, which I shall now want very much. After dinner I stayed at home all the afternoon, and Gibson with me; he and I shut up till about ten at night. We went through all our orders, and towards the end I do meet with two or three orders for our discharging of two or three little vessels by ticket without money, which do plunge me; but, however, I have the advantage by this means to study an answer and to prepare a defence, at least for myself. So he gone I to supper, my mind busy thinking after our defence in this matter, but with vexation to think that a thing of this kind, which in itself brings nothing but trouble and shame to us, should happen before all others to become a charge against us. This afternoon Mr. Mills come and visited me, and stayed a little with me (my wife being to be godmother to his child tomorrow), and among other talk he told me how fully satisfactory my first Report was to the House in the business of Chatham: which I am glad to hear; and the more, for that I know that he is a great creature of Sir R. Brookes’s.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home, where my wife not very well, but is to go to Mr. Mills’s child’s christening, where she is godmother, Sir J. Minnes and Sir R. Brookes her companions. I left her after dinner (my clerks dining with me) to go with Sir J. Minnes, and I to the office, where did much business till after candlelight, and then my eyes beginning to fail me, I out and took coach to Arundell House, where the meeting of Gresham College was broke up; but there meeting Creed, I with him to the tavern in St. Clement’s Churchyard, where was Deane Wilkins, Dr. Whistler, Dr. Floyd,3742 a divine admitted, I perceive, this day, and other brave men; and there, among other things of news, I do hear, that upon the reading of the House of Commons’s Reasons of the manner of their proceedings in the business of my Lord Chancellor, the Reasons were so bad, that my Lord Bristoll himself did declare that he would not stand to what he had, and did still, advise the Lords to concur to, upon any of the Reasons of the House of Commons; but if it was put to the question whether it should be done on their Reasons, he would be against them; and indeed it seems the Reasons—however they come to escape the House of Commons, which shows how slightly the greatest matters are done in this world, and even in Parliaments were none of them of strength, but the principle of them untrue; they saying, that where any man is brought before a judge, accused of Treason in general, without specifying the particular, the judge do there constantly and is obliged to commit him. Whereas the question being put by the Lords to my Lord Keeper, he said that quite the contrary was true: and then, in the Sixth Article (I will get a copy of them if I can) there are two or three things strangely asserted to the diminishing of the King’s power, as is said, at least things that heretofore would not have been heard of. But then the question being put among the Lords, as my Lord Bristoll advised, whether, upon the whole matter and Reasons that had been laid before them, they would commit my Lord Clarendon, it was carried five to one against it; there being but three Bishops against him, of whom Cousins3743 and Dr. Reynolds3744 were two, and I know not the third.3745 This made the opposite Lords, as Bristoll and Buckingham, so mad, that they declared and protested against it,3746 speaking very broad that there was mutiny and rebellion in the hearts of the Lords, and that they desired they might enter their dissents, which they did do, in great fury. So that upon the Lords sending to the Commons, as I am told, to have a conference for them to give their answer to the Commons’s Reasons, the Commons did desire a free conference: but the Lords do deny it; and the reason is, that they hold not the Commons any Court, but that themselves only are a Court, and the Chief Court of judicature, and therefore are not to dispute the laws and method of their own Court with them that are none, and so will not submit so much as to have their power disputed. And it is conceived that much of this eagerness among the Lords do arise from the fear some of them have, that they may be dealt with in the same manner themselves, and therefore do stand upon it now. It seems my Lord Clarendon hath, as is said and believed, had his horses several times in his coach, ready to carry him to the Tower, expecting a message to that purpose; but by this means his case is like to be laid by. From this we fell to other discourse, and very good; among the rest they discourse of a man that is a little frantic, that hath been a kind of minister, Dr. Wilkins saying that he hath read for him in his church, that is poor and a debauched man, that the College3747 have hired for 20s. to have some of the blood of a sheep let into his body; and it is to be done on Saturday next.3748 They purpose to let in about twelve ounces; which, they compute, is what will be let in in a minute’s time by a watch. They differ in the opinion they have of the effects of it; some think it may have a good effect upon him as a frantic man by cooling his blood, others that it will not have any effect at all. But the man is a healthy man, and by this means will be able to give an account what alteration, if any, he do find in himself, and so may be useful. On this occasion, Dr. Whistler told a pretty story related by Muffet,3749 a good author, of Dr. Caius, that built Keys College; that, being very old, and living only at that time upon woman’s milk, he, while he fed upon the milk of an angry, fretful woman, was so himself; and then, being advised to take it of a good-natured, patient woman, he did become so, beyond the common temper of his age. Thus much nutriment, they observed, might do. Their discourse was very fine; and if I should be put out of my office, I do take great content in the liberty I shall be at of frequenting these gentlemen’s company. Broke up thence and home, and there to my wife in her chamber, who is not well (of those), and there she tells me great stories of the gossiping women of the parish—what this, and what that woman was; and, among the rest, how Mrs. Hollworthy is the veriest confident bragging gossip of them all, which I should not have believed; but that Sir R. Brookes, her partner,3750 was mighty civil to her, and taken with her, and whatnot. My eyes being bad I spent the evening with her in her chamber talking and inventing a cipher to put on a piece of plate, which I must give, better than ordinary, to the Parson’s child, and so to bed, and through my wife’s illness had a bad night of it, and she a worse, poor wretch!
. Up betimes, and drinking my morning draught of strong water with Betty Michell, I had not opportunity para baiser la, I by water to Whitehall, and there met Creed, and thence with him to Westminster Hall, where we talked long together of news, and there met with Cooling,3751 my Lord Chamberlain’s Secretary, and from him learn the truth of all I heard last night; and understand further, that this stiffness of the Lords is in no manner of kindness to my Lord Chancellor, for he neither hath, nor do, nor for the future likely can oblige any of them, but rather the contrary; but that they do fear what the consequence may be to themselves, should they yield in his case, as many of them have reason. And more, he showed me how this is rather to the wrong and prejudice of my Lord Chancellor; for that it is better for him to come to be tried before the Lords, where he can have right and make interest, than, when the Parliament is up, be committed by the King, and tried by a Court on purpose made by the King, of what Lords the King pleases, who have a mind to have his head. So that my Lord [Cornbury] himself, his son, he tells me, hath moved, that if they have Treason against my Lord of Clarendon, that they would specify it and send it up to the Lords, that he might come to his trial; so full of intrigues this business is! Having now a mind to go on and to be rid of Creed, I could not, but was forced to carry him with me to the Excise Office, and thence to the Temple, and there walked a good while in the Temple church, observing the plainness of Selden’s tomb, and how much better one of his executors hath, who is buried by him,3752 and there I parted with him and took coach and home, where to dinner.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and all the afternoon also busy till late preparing things to fortify myself and fellows against the Parliament; and particularly myself against what I fear is thought, that I have suppressed the Order of the Board by which the discharging the great ships off at Chatham by tickets was directed; whereas, indeed, there was no such Order. So home at night to supper and to bed.
. In my chamber all the morning (having lain long in bed) till Mr. Shepley come to dine with me, and there being to return to Hinchinbroke speedily, I did give him as good account how matters go here as I could. After dinner, he being gone, I to the office, and there for want of other of my clerks, sent to Mr. Gibbs, whom I never used till now, for the writing over of my little pocket Contract-book; and there I laboured till nine at night with him, in drawing up the history of all that hath passed concerning tickets, in order to the laying the whole, and clearing myself and Office, before Sir R. Brookes; and in this I took great pains, and then sent him away, and proceeded, and had W. Hewer come to me, and he and I till past twelve at night in the Office, and he, which was a good service, did so inform me in the consequences of my writing this report, and that what I said would not hold water, in denying this Board to have ever ordered the discharging out of the service whole ships by ticket, that I did alter my whole counsel, and fall to arme myself with good reasons to justify the Office in so doing, which hath been but rare, and having done this, I went, with great quiet in my mind, home, though vexed that so honest a business should bring me so much trouble; but mightily was pleased to find myself put out of my former design; and so, after supper, to bed.
. Up, and all the morning finishing my letter to Sir Robert Brookes, which I did with great content, and yet at noon when I come home to dinner I read it over again after it was sealed and delivered to the messenger, and read it to my clerks who dined with me, and there I did resolve upon some alteration, and caused it to be new writ, and so to the office after dinner, and there all the afternoon mighty busy, and at night did take coach thinking to have gone to Westminster, but it was mighty dark and foul, and my business not great, only to keep my eyes from reading by candle, being weary, but being gone part of my way I turned back, and so home, and there to read, and my wife to read to me out of Sir Robert Cotton’s book about war,3753 which is very fine, showing how the Kings of England have raised money by the people heretofore upon the people, and how they have played upon the kings also. So after supper I to bed. This morning Sir W. Penn tells me that the House was very hot on Saturday last upon the business of liberty of speech in the House, and damned the vote in the beginning of the Long Parliament against it;3754 I so that he fears that there may be some bad thing which they have a mind to broach, which they dare not do without more security than they now have. God keep us, for things look mighty ill!
. Up, all the morning at the office, and then home to dinner, where dined Mr. Clerke, solicitor, with me, to discourse about my Tangier accounts, which I would fain make up, but I have not time. After dinner, by coach as far as the Temple, and there saw a new book,3755 in folio, of all that suffered for the King in the late times, which I will buy, it seems well writ, and then back to the Old Exchange, and there at my goldsmith’s bought a basin for my wife to give the Parson’s child, to which the other day she was godmother. It cost me £10 14s. besides graving, which I do with the cipher of the name, Daniel Mills, and so home to the office, and then home to supper and hear my wife read, and then to bed. This afternoon, after dinner, come to me Mr. Warren, and there did tell me that he come to pay his debt to me for the kindness I did him in getting his last ship out, which I must also remember was a service to the King, though I did not tell him so, as appeared by my advising with the board, and there writing to Sir W. Coventry to get the pass for the ship to go for it to Genoa. Now that which he had promised me for the courtesy was I take it 100 pieces or more, I think more, and also for the former courtesy I had done for the getting of his first ship out for this hemp he did promise me a consideration upon the return of the goods, but I never did to this day demand anything of him, only about a month ago he told me that now his ship was come, and he would come out of my debt, but told me that whereas he did expect to have had some profit by the voyage, it had proved of loss to him, by the loss of some ships, or some accidents, I know not what, and so that he was not able to do what he intended, but told me that he would present me with sixty pieces in gold. I told him I would demand nothing of his promises, though they were much greater, nor would have thus much, but if he could afford to give me but fifty pieces, it should suffice me. So now he brought something in a paper, which since proves to be fifty pieces. But before I would take them I told him that I did not insist on anything, and therefore prayed him to consult his ability before he did part with them: and so I refused them once or twice till he did the third time offer them, and then I took them, he saying that he would present me with as many more if I would undertake to get him £500 paid on his bills. I told him I would by no means have any promise of the kind, nor would have any kindness from him for any such service, but that I should do my utmost for nothing to do him that justice, and would endeavour to do what I could for him, and so we parted, he owning himself mightily engaged to me for my kind usage of him in accepting of so small a matter in satisfaction of all that he owed me; which I enter at large for my justification if anything of this should be hereafter enquired after. This evening also comes to me to my closet at the Office Sir John Chichly, of his own accord, to tell me what he shall answer to the Committee, when, as he expects, he shall be examined about my Lord Sandwich; which is so little as will not hurt my Lord at all, I know.3756 He do profess great generousness towards my Lord, and that this jealousy of my Lord’s of him is without ground, but do mightily inveigh against Sir Roger Cuttance, and would never have my Lord to carry him to sea again, as being a man that hath done my Lord more hurt than ever he can repair by his ill advice, and disobliging everybody. He will by no means seem to crouch to my Lord, but says that he hath as good blood in his veins as any man, though not so good a title, but that he will do nothing to wrong or prejudice my Lord, and I hope he will not, nor I believe can; but he tells me that Sir E. Spragg and Utber are the men that have done my Lord the most wrong, and did bespatter him the most at Oxford, and that my Lord was misled to believe that all that was there said was his, which indeed it was not, and says that he did at that time complain to his father of this his misfortune. This I confess is strange to me touching these two men, but yet it may well enough as the world goes, though I wonder I confess at the latter of the two, who always professes great love to my Lord. Sir Roger Cuttance was with me in the morning, and there gives me an account so clear about Bergen and the other business against my Lord, as I do not see what can be laid to my Lord in either, and tells me that Penn, however he now dissembles it, did on the quarter deck of my Lord’s ship, after he come on board, when my Lord did fire a gun for the ships to leave pursuing the enemy, Penn did say, before a great many, several times, that his heart did leap in his belly for joy when he heard the gun, and that it was the best thing that could be done for securing the fleet. He tells me also that Penn was the first that did move and persuade my Lord to the breaking bulke, as a thing that was now the time to do right to the commanders of the great ships, who had no opportunity of getting anything by prizes, now his Lordship might distribute to everyone something, and he himself did write down before my Lord the proportions for each man. This I am glad of, though it may be this dissembling fellow may, twenty to one, deny it.
. Up, and all the morning at my Lord Brouncker’s lodgings with Sir J. Minnes and [Sir] W. Penn about Sir W. Warren’s accounts, wherein I do not see that they are ever very likely to come to an understanding of them, as Sir J. Minnes hath not yet handled them. Here till noon, and then home to dinner, where Mr. Pierce comes to me, and there, in general, tells me how the King is now fallen in and become a slave to the Duke of Buckingham, led by none but him, whom he, Mr. Pierce, swears he knows do hate the very person of the King, and would, as well as will, certainly ruin him. He do say, and I think with right, that the King do in this do the most ungrateful part of a master to a servant that ever was done, in this carriage of his to my Lord Chancellor: that, it may be, the Chancellor may have faults, but none such as these they speak of; that he do now really fear that all is going to ruin, for he says he hears that Sir W. Coventry hath been, just before his sickness, with the Duke of York, to ask his forgiveness and peace for what he had done; for that he never could foresee that what he meant so well, in the councilling to lay by the Chancellor, should come to this. As soon as dined, I with my boy Tom to my bookbinder’s, where all the afternoon long till 8 or 9 at night seeing him binding up two or three collections of letters and papers that I had of him, but above all things my little abstract pocket book of contracts, which he will do very neatly. Then home to read, sup, and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all this morning, and then home to dinner, and then by coach sent my wife to the King’s playhouse, and I to Whitehall, there intending, with Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir T. Harvy to have seen the Duke of York, whom it seems the King and Queen have visited, and so we may now well go to see him. But there was nobody could speak with him, and so we parted, leaving a note in Mr. Wren’s chamber that we had been there, he being at the free conference of the two Houses about this great business of my Lord Chancellor’s, at which they were at this hour, three in the afternoon, and there they say my Lord Anglesey do his part admirably ably, and each of us taking a copy of the Guinea Company’s defence to a petition against them to the Parliament the other day. So I away to the King’s playhouse, and there sat by my wife, and saw The Mistaken Beauty,3757 which I never, I think, saw before, though an old play; and there is much in it that I like, though the name is but improper to it—at least, that name, it being also called The Lyer, which is proper enough. Here I met with Sir Richard Browne, who wondered to find me there, telling me that I am a man of so much business, which character, I thank God, I have ever got, and have for a long time had and deserved, and yet am now come to be censured in common with the office for a man of negligence. Thence home and to the office to my letters, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Waked about seven o’clock this morning with a noise I supposed I heard, near our chamber, of knocking, which, by and by, increased: and I, more awake, could, distinguish it better. I then waked my wife, and both of us wondered at it, and lay so a great while, while that increased, and at last heard it plainer, knocking, as if it were breaking down a window for people to get out; and then removing of stools and chairs; and plainly, by and by, going up and down our stairs. We lay, both of us, afeard; yet I would have rose, but my wife would not let me. Besides, I could not do it without making noise; and we did both conclude that thieves were in the house, but wondered what our people did, whom we thought either killed, or afeard, as we were. Thus we lay till the clock struck eight, and high day. At last, I removed my gown and slippers safely to the other side of the bed over my wife: and there safely rose, and put on my gown and breeches, and then, with a firebrand in my hand, safely opened the door, and saw nor heard anything. Then (with fear, I confess) went to the maid’s chamber-door, and all quiet and safe. Called Jane up, and went down safely, and opened my chamber door, where all well. Then more freely about, and to the kitchen, where the cook-maid up, and all safe. So up again, and when Jane come, and we demanded whether she heard no noise, she said, “yes, and was afeard,” but rose with the other maid, and found nothing; but heard a noise in the great stack of chimneys that goes from Sir J. Minnes through our house; and so we sent, and their chimneys have been swept this morning, and the noise was that, and nothing else. It is one of the most extraordinary accidents in my life, and gives ground to think of Don Quixote’s adventures how people may be surprised, and the more from an accident last night, that our young gibb-cat3758 did leap down our stairs from top to bottom, at two leaps, and frighted us, that we could not tell well whether it was the cat or a spirit, and do sometimes think this morning that the house might be haunted. Glad to have this so well over, and indeed really glad in my mind, for I was much afeard, I dressed myself and to the office both forenoon and afternoon, mighty hard putting papers and things in order to my extraordinary satisfaction, and consulting my clerks in many things, who are infinite helps to my memory and reasons of things, and so being weary, and my eyes aching, having overwrought them today reading so much shorthand, I home and there to supper, it being late, and to bed. This morning Sir W. Penn and I did walk together a good while, and he tells me that the Houses are not likely to agree after their free conference yesterday, and he fears what may follow.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and then by coach to Arundel House, to the election of Officers3759 for the next year; where I was near being chosen of the Council, but am glad I was not, for I could not have attended, though, above all things, I could wish it; and do take it as a mighty respect to have been named there. The company great, and the elections long, and then to Cary House,3760 a house now of entertainment, next my Lord Ashly’s; and there, where I have heretofore heard Common Prayer in the time of Dr. Mossum,3761 we after two hours’ stay, sitting at the table with our napkins open, had our dinners brought, but badly done. But here was good company. I choosing to sit next Dr. Wilkins, Sir George Ent, and others whom I value, there talked of several things. Among others Dr. Wilkins,3762 talking of the universal speech, of which he hath a book coming out, did first inform me how man was certainly made for society, he being of all creatures the least armed for defence, and of all creatures in the world the young ones are not able to do anything to help themselves, nor can find the dug without being put to it, but would die if the mother did not help it; and, he says, were it not for speech man would be a very mean creature. Much of this good discourse we had. But here, above all, I was pleased to see the person who had his blood taken out. He speaks well, and did this day give the Society a relation thereof in Latin, saying that he finds himself much better since, and as a new man, but he is cracked a little in his head, though he speaks very reasonably, and very well. He had but 20s. for his suffering it, and is to have the same again tried upon him: the first sound man that ever had it tried on him in England, and but one that we hear of in France, which was a porter hired by the virtuosos. Here all the afternoon till within night. Then I took coach and to the Exchange, where I was to meet my wife, but she was gone home, and so I to Westminster Hall, and there took a turn or two, but meeting with nobody to discourse with, returned to Cary House, and there stayed and saw a pretty deception of the sight by a glass with water poured into it, with a stick standing up with three balls of wax upon it, one distant from the other. How these balls did seem double and disappear one after another, mighty pretty! Here Mr. Carcasse did come to me, and brought first Mr. Colwall,3763 our Treasurer, and then Dr. Wilkins to engage me to be his friend, and himself asking forgiveness and desiring my friendship, saying that the Council have now ordered him to be free to return to the Office to be employed. I promised him my friendship, and am glad of this occasion, having desired it; for there is nobody’s ill tongue that I fear like his, being a malicious and cunning bold fellow. Thence, paying our shot, 6s. apiece, I home, and there to the office and wrote my letters, and then home, my eyes very sore with yesterday’s work, and so home and tried to make a piece by my ear and viol to “I wonder what the grave,” etc., and so to supper and to bed, where frighted a good while and my wife again with noises, and my wife did rise twice, but I think it was Sir John Minnes’s people again late cleaning their house, for it was past 1 o’clock in the morning before we could fall to sleep, and so slept. But I perceive well what the care of money and treasure in a man’s house is to a man that fears to lose it. My Lord Anglesey told me this day that he did believe the House of Commons would, the next week, yield to the Lords; but, speaking with others this day, they conclude they will not, but that rather the King will accommodate it by committing my Lord Clarendon himself. I remember what Mr. Evelyn said, that he did believe we should soon see ourselves fall into a Commonwealth again. Joseph Williamson I find mighty kind still, but close, not daring to say anything almost that touches upon news or state of affairs.
December 1667
. Up, and after entering my journal for 2 or 3 days, I to church, where Mr. Mills, a dull sermon: and in our pew there sat a great lady, which I afterwards understood to be my Lady Carlisle,3764 that made her husband a cuckold in Scotland, a very fine woman indeed in person. After sermon home, where W. Hewer dined with us, and after dinner he and I all the afternoon to read over our office letters to see what matters can be got for our advantage or disadvantage therein. In the evening comes Mr. Pelling and the two men that were with him formerly, the little man that sings so good a base (Wallington) and another that understands well, one Pigott, and Betty Turner come and sat and supped with us, and we spent the evening mighty well in good music, to my great content to see myself in condition to have these and entertain them for my own pleasure only. So they gone, we to bed.
. Up, and then abroad to Alderman Backewell’s (who was sick of a cold in bed), and then to the Excise Office, where I find Mr. Ball out of humour in expectation of being put out of his office by the change of the farm of the excise. There comes Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to Westminster, and there walked up and down till noon, where all the business is that the Lords’ answer is come down to the Commons, that they are not satisfied in the Commons’ Reasons: and so the Commons are hot, and like to sit all day upon the business what to do herein, most thinking that they will remonstrate against the Lords. Thence to Lord Crew’s, and there dined with him; where, after dinner, he took me aside, and bewailed the condition of the nation, how the King and his brother are at a distance about this business of the Chancellor, and the two Houses differing. And he do believe that there are so many about the King like to be concerned and troubled by the Parliament, that they will get him to dissolve or prorogue the Parliament; and the rather, for that the King is likely, by this good husbandry of the Treasury, to get out of debt, and the Parliament is likely to give no money. Among other things, my Lord Crew did tell me, with grief, that he hears that the King of late hath not dined nor supped with the Queen, as he used of late to do. After a little discourse, Mr. Caesar, he dining there, did give us some music on his lute (Mr. John Crew being there) to my great content, and then away I, and Mr. Caesar followed me and told me that my boy Tom hath this day declared to him that he cared not for the French lute and would learn no more, which Caesar out of faithfulness tells me that I might not spend any more money on him in vain. I shall take the boy to task about it, though I am contented to save my money if the boy knows not what is good for himself. So thanked him, and indeed he is a very honest man I believe, and away home, there to get something ready for the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, and so took my wife and girl and set them at Unthanke’s, and I to Whitehall, and there with the Commissioners of the Treasury, who I find in mighty good condition to go on in payment of the seamen off, and thence I to Westminster Hall, where I met with my cousin Roger and walked a good while with him; he tells me of the high vote of the Commons this afternoon, which I also heard at Whitehall, that the proceedings of the Lords in the case of my Lord Clarendon are an obstruction to justice, and of ill precedent to future times. This makes everybody wonder what will be the effect of it, most thinking that the King will try him by his own Commission. It seems they were mighty high to have remonstrated, but some said that was too great an appeale to the people. Roger is mighty full of fears of the consequence of it, and wishes the King would dissolve them. So we parted, and I bought some Scotch cakes at Wilkinson’s in King Street, and called my wife, and home, and there to supper, talk, and to bed. Supped upon these cakes, of which I have eat none since we lived at Westminster. This night our poor little dog Fancy was in a strange fit, through age, of which she has had five or six.
. Up, by candlelight, the only time I think I have done so this winter, and a coach being got over night, I to Sir W. Coventry’s, the first time I have seen him at his new house since he come to lodge there. He tells me of the vote for none of the House to be of the Commission for the Bill of Accounts; which he thinks is so great a disappointment to Birch and others that expected to be of it, that he thinks, could it have been [fore]seen, there would not have been any Bill at all. We hope it will be the better for all that are to account; it being likely that the men, being few, and not of the House, will hear reason. The main business I went about was about Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten’s clerk; who, being upon his deathbed, and now dead, hath offered to make discoveries of the disorders of the Navy and of £65,000 damage to the King: which made mighty noise in the Commons’ House; and members appointed to go to him, which they did; but nothing to the purpose got from him, but complaints of false musters, and ships being refitted with victuals and stores at Plymouth, after they come fitted from other ports; but all this to no purpose, nor more than we know, and will own. But the best is, that this loggerhead should say this, that understands nothing of the Navy, nor ever would; and hath particularly blemished his master by name among us. I told Sir W. Coventry of my letter to Sir R. Brookes, and his answer to me. He advises me, in what I write to him, to be as short as I can, and obscure, saving in things fully plain; for all that he do is to make mischief; and that the greatest wisdom in dealing with the Parliament in the world is to say little, and let them get out what they can by force: which I shall observe. He declared to me much of his mind to be ruled by his own measures, and not to go so far as many would have him to the ruin of my Lord Chancellor, and for which they do endeavour to do what they can against [Sir] W. Coventry. “But,” says he, “I have done my do in helping to get him out of the administration of things, for which he is not fit; but for his life or estate I will have nothing to say to it: besides that, my duty to my master the Duke of York is such, that I will perish before I will do anything to displease or disoblige him, where the very necessity of the kingdom do not in my judgment call me.” Thence I home and to the office, where my Lord Anglesey, and all the discourse was yesterday’s vote in the Commons, wherein he told us that, should the Lords yield to what the Commons would have in this matter, it were to make them worse than any justice of Peace (whereas they are the highest Court in the Kingdom) that they cannot be judges whether an offender be to be committed or bailed, which every justice of Peace do do, and then he showed me precedents plain in their defence. At noon home to dinner, and busy all the afternoon, and at night home, and there met W. Batelier, who tells me the first great news that my Lord Chancellor is fled this day. By and by to Sir W. Penn’s, where Sir R. Ford and he and I met, with Mr. Young and Lewes, about our accounts with my Lady Batten, which prove troublesome, and I doubt will prove to our loss. But here I hear the whole that my Lord Chancellor is gone, and left a paper behind him3765 for the House of Lords, telling them the reason of him retiring, complaining of a design for his ruin. But the paper I must get: only the thing at present is great, and will put the King and Commons to some new counsels certainly. So home to supper and to bed. Sir W. Penn I find in much trouble this evening, having been called to the Committee this afternoon, about the business of prizes. Sir Richard Ford told us this evening an odd story of the baseness of the late Lord Mayor, Sir W. Bolton,3766 in cheating the poor of the City, out of the collections made for the people that were burned, of £1,800; of which he can give no account, and in which he hath forsworn himself plainly, so as the Court of Aldermen have sequestered him from their Court till he do bring in an account, which is the greatest piece of roguery that they say was ever found in a Lord Mayor. He says also that this day hath been made appear to them that the Keeper of Newgate, at this day, hath made his house the only nursery of rogues, and whores, and pickpockets, and thieves in the world; where they were bred and entertained, and the whole society met: and that, for the sake of the Sheriffes, they durst not this day commit him, for fear of making him let out the prisoners, but are fain to go by artifice to deal with him. He tells me, also, speaking of the new street3767 that is to be made from Guild Hall down to Cheapside, that the ground is already, most of it, bought. And tells me of one particular, of a man that hath a piece of ground lying in the very middle of the street that must be; which, when the street is cut out of it, there will remain ground enough, of each side, to build a house to front the street. He demanded £700 for the ground, and to be excused paying anything for the melioration of the rest of his ground that he was to keep. The Court consented to give him £700, only not to abate him the consideration: which the man denied; but told them, and so they agreed, that he would excuse the City the £700, that he might have the benefit of the melioration without paying anything for it.3768 So much some will get by having the City burned! But he told me that in other cases ground, by this means, that was not 4d. a-foot before, will now, when houses are built, be worth 15s. a-foot. But he tells me that the common standard now reckoned on between man and man, in places where there is no alteration of circumstances, but only the houses burnt, there the ground, which, with a house on it, did yield £100 a-year, is now reputed worth £33 6s. 8d.; and that this is the common market-price between one man and another, made upon a good and moderate medium.
. At the office all the morning. At noon to dinner, and presently with my wife abroad, whom and her girl I leave at Unthanke’s, and so to Whitehall in expectation of waiting on the Duke of York today, but was prevented therein, only at Mr. Wren’s chamber there I hear that the House of Lords did send down the paper which my Lord Chancellor left behind him, directed to the Lords, to be seditious and scandalous; and the Commons have voted that it be burned by the hands of the hangman, and that the King be desired to agree to it. I do hear, also, that they have desired the King to use means to stop his escape out of the nation.3769 Here I also heard Mr. Jermin,3770 who was there in the chamber upon occasion of Sir Thomas Harvy’s telling him of his brother’s having a child, and thereby taking away his hopes (that is, Mr. Jermin’s) of £2,000 a year. He swore, God damn him, he did not desire to have any more wealth than he had in the world, which indeed is a great estate, having all his uncle’s, my Lord St. Alban’s, and my Lord hath all the Queen-Mother’s. But when Sir Thos. Harvy told him that “hereafter you will wish it more;”—“By God,” answers he, “I won’t promise what I shall do hereafter.” Thence into the House, and there spied a pretty woman with spots on her face, well clad, who was enquiring for the guard chamber; I followed her, and there she went up, and turned into the turning towards the chapel, and I after her, and upon the stairs there met her coming up again, and there kissed her twice, and her business was to enquire for Sir Edward Bishop, one of the serjeants at armes. I believe she was a woman of pleasure, but was shy enough to me, and so I saw her go out afterwards, and I took a hackney coach, and away. I to Westminster Hall, and there walked, and thence towards Whitehall by coach, and spying Mrs. Burroughs in a shop did stop and ’light and speak to her; and so to Whitehall, where I ’light and went and met her coming towards Whitehall, but was upon business, and I could not get her to go any whither and so parted, and I home with my wife and girl (my wife not being very well, of a great looseness day and night for these two days). So home, my wife to read to me in Sir R. Cotton’s book of war, which is excellent reading, and particularly I was mightily pleased this night in what we read about the little profit or honour this kingdom ever gained by the greatest of its conquests abroad in France. This evening come Mr. Mills and sat with us a while, who is mighty kind and good company, and so, he gone, I to supper and to bed. My wife an unquiet night. This day Gilsthrop is buried, who hath made all the late discourse of the great discovery of £65,000, of which the King hath been wronged.
. At the office all the morning, do hear that Will Penn, Sir W. Penn’s son, is come from Ireland, but I have not seen him yet. At noon to the ’Change, where did little, but so home again and to dinner with my clerks with me, and very good discourse and company they give me, and so to the office all the afternoon till late, and so home to supper and to bed. This day, not for want, but for good husbandry, I sent my father, by his desire, six pair of my old shoes, which fit him, and are good; yet, methought, it was a thing against my mind to have him wear my old things.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to the Duke of York, the first time that I have seen him, or we waited on him, since his sickness; and, blessed be God! he is not at all the worse for the smallpox, but is only a little weak yet. We did much business with him, and so parted. My Lord Anglesey told me how my Lord Northampton3771 brought in a Bill into the House of Lords yesterday, under the name of a Bill for the Honour and Privilege of the House, and Mercy to my Lord Clarendon: which, he told me, he opposed, saying that he was a man accused of treason by the House of Commons; and mercy was not proper for him, having not been tried yet, and so no mercy needful for him. However, the Duke of Buckingham and others did desire that the Bill might be read; and it was for banishing my Lord Clarendon from all his Majesty’s dominions, and that it should be treason to have him found in any of them: the thing is only a thing of vanity, and to insult over him, which is mighty poor I think, and so do everybody else, and ended in nothing, I think. By and by home with Sir J. Minnes, who tells me that my Lord Clarendon did go away in a Customhouse boat, and is now at Callis: and, I confess, nothing seems to hang more heavy than his leaving of this unfortunate paper behind him, that hath angered both Houses, and hath, I think, reconciled them in that which otherwise would have broke them in pieces; so that I do hence, and from Sir W. Coventry’s late example and doctrine to me, learn that on these sorts of occasions there is nothing like silence; it being seldom any wrong to a man to say nothing, but, for the most part, it is to say anything. This day, in coming home, Sir J. Minnes told me a pretty story of Sir Lewes Dives,3772 whom I saw this morning speaking with him, that having escaped once out of prison through a house of office, and another time in woman’s apparel, and leaping over a broad canal, a soldier swore, says he, this is a strange jade. … He told me also a story of my Lord Cottington, who, wanting a son, intended to make his nephew his heir, a country boy; but did alter his mind upon the boy’s being persuaded by another young heir, in roguery, to crow like a cock at my Lord’s table, much company being there, and the boy having a great trick at doing that perfectly. My Lord bade them take away that fool from the table, and so gave over the thoughts of making him his heir,3773 from this piece of folly. So home, and there to dinner, and after dinner abroad with my wife and girl, set them down at Unthanke’s, and I to Whitehall to the Council chamber, where I was summoned about the business of paying of the seamen, where I heard my Lord Anglesey put to it by Sir W. Coventry before the King for altering the course set by the Council; which he like a wise man did answer in few words, that he had already sent to alter it according to the Council’s method, and so stopped it, whereas many words would have set the Commissioners of the Treasury on fire, who, I perceive, were prepared for it. Here I heard Mr. Gawden speak to the King and Council upon some business of his before them, but did it so well, in so good words and to the purpose, that I could never have expected from a man of no greater learning. So went away, and in the Lobby met Mr. Sawyer, my old chamber fellow, and stayed and had an hour’s discourse of old things with him, and I perceive he do very well in the world, and is married he tells me and hath a child. Then home and to the office, where Captain Cocke come to me; and, among other discourse, tells me that he is told that an impeachment against Sir W. Coventry will be brought in very soon. He tells me, that even those that are against my Lord Chancellor and the Court, in the House, do not trust nor agree one with another. He tells me that my Lord Chancellor went away about ten at night, on Saturday last; and took boat at Westminster, and thence by a vessel to Callis, where he believes he now is: and that the Duke of York and Mr. Wren knew of it, and that himself did know of it on Sunday morning: that on Sunday his coach, and people about it, went to Twittenham, and the world thought that he had been there: that nothing but this unhappy paper hath undone him and that he doubts that this paper hath lost him everywhere that his withdrawing do reconcile things so far as, he thinks the heat of their fury will be over, and that all will be made well between the two [royal] brothers: that Holland do endeavour to persuade the King of France to break peace with us: that the Dutch will, without doubt, have sixty sail of ships out the next year; so knows not what will become of us, but hopes the Parliament will find money for us to have a fleet. He gone, I home, and there my wife made an end to me of Sir R. Cotton’s discourse of war, which is indeed a very fine book. So to supper and to bed. Captain Cocke did this night tell me also, among other discourses, that he did believe that there are jealousies in some of the House at this day against the Commissioners of the Treasury, that by their good husbandry they will bring the King to be out of debt and to save money, and so will not be in need of the Parliament, and then do what he please, which is a very good piece of news that there is such a thing to be hoped, which they would be afeard of.
. All the morning at the office, and at noon home to dinner with my clerks, and while we were at dinner comes Willet’s aunt to see her and my wife; she is a very fine widow and pretty handsome, but extraordinary well carriaged and speaks very handsomely and with extraordinary understanding, so as I spent the whole afternoon in her company with my wife, she understanding all the things of note touching plays and fashions and Court and everything and speaks rarely, which pleases me mightily, and seems to love her niece very well, and was so glad (which was pretty odde) that since she came hither her breasts begin to swell, she being afeard before that she would have none, which was a pretty kind of content she gave herself. She tells us that Catelin is likely to be soon acted, which I am glad to hear, but it is at the King’s House. But the King’s House is at present and hath for some days been silenced upon some difference [between] Hart and Moone. She being gone I to the office, and there late doing business, and so home to supper and to bed. Only this evening I must remember that my Lady Batten sent for me, and it was to speak to me before her overseers about my bargain with Sir W. Batten about the prize, to which I would give no present answer, but am well enough contented that they begin the discourse of it, and so away to the office again, and then home to supper and to bed. Somebody told me this, that they hear that Thomson, with the wooden leg, and Wildman,3774 the Fifth-Monarchy man, a great creature of the Duke of Buckingham’s, are in nomination to be Commissioners, among others, upon the Bill of Accounts.
. All the morning at my chamber doing something towards the settling of my papers and accounts, which have been out of order a great while. At noon to dinner, where W. How with us, and after dinner, he being gone, I to my chamber again till almost night, and then took boat, the tide serving, and so to Whitehall, where I saw the Duchess of York, in a fine dress of second mourning for her mother,3775 being black, edged with ermine, go to make her first visit to the Queen since the Duke of York was sick; and by and by, she being returned, the Queen come and visited her. But it was pretty to observe that Sir W. Coventry and I, walking an hour and more together in the Matted Gallery, he observed, and so did I, how the Duchess, as soon as she spied him, turned her head a one side. Here he and I walked thus long, which we have not done a great while before. Our discourse was upon everything: the unhappiness of having our matters examined by people that understand them not; that it was better for us in the Navy to have men that do understand the whole, and that are not passionate; that we that have taken the most pains are called upon to answer for all crimes, while those that, like Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, did sit and do nothing, do lie still without any trouble; that, if it were to serve the King and kingdom again in a war, neither of us could do more, though upon this experience we might do better than we did; that the commanders, the gentlemen that could never be brought to order, but undid all, are now the men that find fault and abuse others; that it had been much better for the King to have given Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten £1,000 a-year to have sat still, than to have had them in his business this war: that the serving a Prince that minds not his business is most unhappy for them that serve him well, and an unhappiness so great that he declares he will never have more to do with a war, under him. That he hath papers which do flatly contradict the Duke of Albemarle’s Narrative; and that he hath been with the Duke of Albemarle and showed him them, to prevent his falling into another like fault: that the Duke of Albemarle seems to be able to answer them; but he thinks that the Duke of Albemarle and the Prince are contented to let their Narratives sleep, they being not only contradictory in some things (as he observed about the business of the Duke of Albemarle’s being to follow the Prince upon dividing the fleet,3776 in case the enemy come out), but neither of them to be maintained in others. That the business the other night of my Lord Anglesey at the Council was happily got over for my Lord, by his dexterous silencing it, and the rest, not urging it further; forasmuch as, had the Duke of Buckingham come in time enough, and had got it by the end, he, would have toused3777 him in it; Sir W. Coventry telling me that my Lord Anglesey did, with such impudence, maintain the quarrel against the Commons and some of the Lords, in the business of my Lord Clarendon, that he believes there are enough would be glad but of this occasion to be revenged of him. He tells me that he hears some of the Thomsons are like to be of the Commission for the Accounts, and Wildman, which he much wonders at, as having been a false fellow to everybody, and in prison most of the time since the King’s coming in. But he do tell me that the House is in such a condition that nobody can tell what to make of them, and, he thinks, they were never in before; that everybody leads, and nobody follows; and that he do now think that, since a great many are defeated in their expectation of being of the Commission, now they would put it into such hands as it shall get no credit from: for, if they do look to the bottom and see the King’s case, they think they are then bound to give the King money; whereas, they would be excused from that, and therefore endeavour to make this business of the Accounts to signify little. I spoke with him about my Lord Sandwich’s business, in which he is very friendly, and do say that the unhappy business of the prizes is it that hath brought all this trouble upon him, and the only thing that made anything else mentioned, and it is true. So having discoursed with him, I spent some time with Sir Stephen Fox about the business of our adjusting the new method of the Excise between the Guards household and Tangier, the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury being now resolved to bring all their management into a course of payment by orders, and not by tallies, and I am glad of it, and so by water home late, and very dark, and when come home there I got my wife to read, and then come Captain Cocke to me; and there he tells me, to my great satisfaction, that Sir Robert Brookes did dine with him today; and that he told him, speaking of me, that he would make me the darling of the House of Commons, so much he is satisfied concerning me. And this Cocke did tell me that I might give him thanks for it; and I do think it may do me good, for he do happen to be held a considerable person, of a young man, both for sobriety and ability. Then to discourse of business of his own about some hemp of his that is come home to receive it into the King’s stores, and then parted, and by and by my wife and I to supper, she not being well, her flux being great upon her, and so to bed.
. All the morning busy at the office, doing very considerable business, and thither comes Sir G. Carteret to talk with me; who seems to think himself safe as to his particular, but do doubt what will become of the whole kingdom, things being so broke in pieces. He tells me that the King himself did the other day very particularly tell the whole story of my Lord Sandwich’s not following the Dutch ships, with which he is charged; and shows the reasons of it to be the only good course he could have taken, and do discourse it very knowingly. This I am glad of, though, as the King is now, his favour, for aught I see, serves very little in stead at this day, but rather is an argument against a man; and the King do not concern himself to relieve or justify anybody, but is wholly negligent of everybody’s concernment. This morning I was troubled with my Lord Hinchingbroke’s sending to borrow £200 of me; but I did answer that I had none, nor could borrow any; for I am resolved I will not be undone for anybody, though I would do much for my Lord Sandwich—for it is to answer a bill of exchange of his, and I perceive he hath made use of all other means in the world to do it, but I am resolved to serve him, but not ruin myself, as it may be to part with so much of the little I have by me to keep if I should by any turn of times lose the rest. At noon I to the ’Change, and there did a little business, and among other things called at Cade’s, the stationer, where he tells me how my Lord Gerard is troubled for several things in the House of Commons, and in one wherein himself is concerned; and, it seems, this Lord is a very proud and wicked man, and the Parliament is likely to order him.3778 Then home to dinner, and then a little abroad, thinking to have gone to the other end of the town, but it being almost night I would not, but home again, and there to my chamber, and all alone did there draw up my answer to Sir Rob. Brookes’s letter, and when I had done it went down to my clerks at the office for their opinion which at this time serves me to very good purpose, they having many things in their heads which I had not in the businesses of the office now in dispute. Having done with this, then I home and to supper very late, and to bed. My [wife] being yet very ill of her looseness, by which she is forced to lie from me tonight in the girl’s chamber.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and then home with my people to dinner, and very merry, and then to my office again, where did much business till night, that my eyes begun to be sore, and then forced to leave off, and by coach set my wife at her tailor’s and Willet, and I to Westminster Hall, and there walked a good while till 8 at night, and there hear to my great content that the King did send a message to the House today that he would adjourne them on the 17th instant to February; by which time, at least, I shall have more respite to prepare things on my own behalf, and the Office, against their return. Here met Mr. Hinxton,3779 the organist, walking, and I walked with him; and, asking him many questions, I do find that he can no more give an intelligible answer to a man that is not a great master in his art, than another man. And this confirms me that it is only want of an ingenious man that is master in music, to bring music to a certainty, and ease in composition. Having done this, I home, taking up my wife and girl, and there to supper and to bed, having finished my letters, among which one to Commissioner Middleton, who is now coming up to town from Portsmouth, to enter upon his Surveyorship.
. By coach to Whitehall, and there attended the Duke of York, as we are wont, who is now grown pretty well, and goes up and down Whitehall, and this night will be at the Council, which I am glad of. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked most of the morning, and among others did there meet my cousin Roger Pepys, who intends to go to Impington on this day s’ennight, the Parliament break up the night before. Here I met Rolt and Sir John Chichly, and Harris, the player, and there we talked of many things, and particularly of Catiline, which is to be suddenly acted at the King’s house; and there all agree that it cannot be well done at that house, there not being good actors enow: and Burt3780 acts Cicero, which they all conclude he will not be able to do well. The King gives them £500 for robes, there being, as they say, to be sixteen scarlet robes. Thence home to dinner, and would have had Harris home with me, but it was too late for him to get to the playhouse after it, and so home to dinner, and spent the afternoon talking with my wife and people at home till the evening, and then comes Sir W. Warren3781 to talk about some business of his and mine: and he, I find, would have me not to think that the Parliament, in the mind they are in, and having so many good offices in their view to dispose of, will leave any of the King’s officers in, but will rout all, though I am likely to escape as well as any, if any can escape; and I think he is in the right, and I do look for it accordingly. Then we fell to discourse of my little vessel, The Maybolt, and he thinks that it will be best for me to employ her for a voyage to Newcastle for coals, they being now dear, and the voyage not long, nor dangerous yet; and I think I shall go near to do so. Then, talking of his business, I away to the office, where very busy, and thither comes Sir W. Penn, and he and I walked together in the garden, and there told me what passed today with him in the Committee, by my Lord Sandwich’s breaking bulk of the prizes; and he do seem to me that he hath left it pretty well understood by them, he saying that what my Lord did was done at the desire, and with the advice, of the chief officers of the fleet, and that it was no more than admirals heretofore have done in like cases, which, if it be true that he said it, is very well, and did please me well. He being gone, I to my office again and there late, and so weary home.
. Rose before day, and took coach, by daylight, and to Westminster to Sir G. Downing’s, and there met Sir Stephen Fox, and thence he and I to Sir Robert Longs to discourse the business of our orders for money, he for the guards, and I for Tangier, and were a little angry in our concerns, one against the other, but yet parted good friends, and I think I got ground by it. Thence straight to the office, and there sat all the morning, and then home to dinner, and after dinner I all alone to the Duke of York’s house, and saw The Tempest, which, as often as I have seen it, I do like very well, and the house very full. But I could take little pleasure more than the play, for not being able to look about, for fear of being seen. Here only I saw a French lady in the pit, with a tunic, just like one of ours, only a handkercher about her neck; but this fashion for a woman did not look decent. Thence walked to my bookseller’s, and there he did give me a list of the twenty who were nominated for the Commission in Parliament for the Accounts: and it is strange that of the twenty the Parliament could not think fit to choose their nine, but were fain to add three that were not in the list of the twenty, they being many of them factious people and ringleaders in the late troubles; so that Sir John Talbott did fly out and was very hot in the business of Wildman’s being named, and took notice how he was entertained in the bosom of the Duke of Buckingham, a Privy-counsellor; and that it was fit to be observed by the House, and punished. The men that I know of the nine I like very well; that is, Mr. Pierrepont, Lord Brereton,3782 and Sir William Turner; and I do think the rest are so, too; but such as will not be able to do this business as it ought to be, to do any good with. Here I did also see their votes against my Lord Chiefe Justice Keeling, that his proceedings were illegal, and that he was a contemner of Magna Charta (the great preserver of our lives, freedoms, and properties) and an introduction to arbitrary government; which is very high language, and of the same sound with that in the year 1640. I home, and there wrote my letters, and so to supper and to bed. This day my Lord Chancellor’s letter was burned at the ’Change.3783
. Up, lying long all alone (my wife lying for these two or three days of sickness alone), thinking of my several businesses in hand, and then rose and to the office, being in some doubt of having my cousin Roger and Lord Hinchinbroke and Sir Thos. Crew by my cousin’s invitation at dinner today, and we wholly unprovided. So I away to Westminster, to the Parliament-door, to speak with Roger: and here I saw my Lord Keeling go into the House to the barr, to have his business heard by the whole House today; and a great crowd of people to stare upon him. Here I hear that the Lords’ Bill for banishing and disabling my Lord Clarendon from bearing any office, or being in the King’s dominions, and its being made felony for any to correspond with him but his own children, is brought to the Commons: but they will not agree to it, being not satisfied with that as sufficient, but will have a Bill of Attainder brought in against him: but they make use of this against the Lords, that they, that would not think there was cause enough to commit him without hearing, will have him banished without hearing. By and by comes out my cousin Roger to me, he being not willing to be in the House at the business of my Lord Keeling,3784 lest he should be called upon to complain against him for his abusing him at Cambridge, very wrongfully and shamefully, but not to his reproach, but to the Chief justice’s in the end, when all the world cried shame upon him for it. So he with me home, and Creed, whom I took up by the way, going thither, and they to dine with me, and pretty merry, and among other pieces of news, it is now fresh that the King of Portugal is deposed, and his brother made King;3785 and that my Lord Sandwich is gone from Madrid with great honour to Lisbon, to make up, at this juncture, a peace to the advantage, as the Spaniard would have it, of Spain. I wish it may be for my Lord’s honour, if it be so; but it seems my Lord is in mighty estimation in Spain. After dinner comes Mr. Moore, and he and I alone a while, he telling me my Lord Sandwich’s credit is like to be undone, if the bill of £200 my Lord Hinchingbroke wrote to me about be not paid tomorrow, and that, if I do not help him about it, they have no way but to let it be protested. So, finding that Creed hath supplied them with £150 in their straits, and that this is no bigger sum, I am very willing to serve my Lord, though not in this kind; but yet I will endeavour to get this done for them, and the rather because of some plate that was lodged the other day with me, by my Lady’s order, which may be in part of security for my money, as I may order it, for, for ought I see, there is no other to be hoped for. This do trouble me; but yet it is good luck that the sum is no bigger. He gone, I with my cousin Roger to Westminster Hall; and there we met the House rising: and they have voted my Lord Chief Justice Keeling’s proceedings illegal; but that, out of particular respect to him, and the mediation of a great many, they have resolved to proceed no further against him. After a turn or two with my cousin, I away with Sir W. Warren, who met me here by my desire, and to Exeter House, and there to counsel, to Sir William Turner, about the business of my bargain with my Lady Batten; and he do give me good advice, and that I am safe, but that there is a great many pretty considerations in it that makes it necessary for me to be silent yet for a while till we see whether the ship be safe or no; for she is drove to the coast of Holland, where she now is in the Texell, so that it is not prudence for me yet to resolve whether I will stand by the bargain or no, and so home, and Sir W. Warren and I walked upon Tower Hill by moonlight a great while, consulting business of the office and our present condition, which is but bad, it being most likely that the Parliament will change all hands, and so let them, so I may keep but what I have. Thence home, and there spent the evening at home with my wife and entering my journal, and so to supper and to bed, troubled with my parting with the £200, which I must lend my Lord Sandwich to answer his bill of exchange.
. Up and to the office, where busy, and after dinner also to the office again till night, when Mr. Moore come to me to discourse about the £200 I must supply my Lord Hinchingbroke, and I promised him to do it, though much against my will. So home, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to church, where I heard a German preach, in a tone hard to be understood, but yet an extraordinary good sermon, and wholly to my great content. So home, and there all alone with wife and girl to dinner, and then I busy at my chamber all the afternoon, and looking over my plate, which indeed is a very fine quantity, God knows, more than ever I expected to see of my own, and more than is fit for a man of no better quality than I am. In the evening comes Mrs. Turner to visit us, who hath been long sick, and she sat and supped with us, and after supper, her son Francke being there, now upon the point of his going to the East Indies, I did give him Lex Mercatoria,3786 and my wife my old pair of tweezers, which are pretty, and my book an excellent one for him. Most of our talk was of the great discourse the world hath against my Lady Batten, for getting her husband to give her all, and disinherit his eldest son; though the truth is, the son, as they say, did play the knave with his father when time was, and the father no great matter better with him, nor with other people also. So she gone, we to bed.
. Up, and to several places, to pay what I owed. Among others, to my mercer, to pay for my fine camlet cloak, which costs me, the very stuff, almost £6; and also a velvet coat—the outside cost me above £8. And so to Westminster, where I find the House mighty busy upon a petition against my Lord Gerard, which lays heavy things to his charge, of his abusing the King in his Guards; and very hot the House is upon it. I away home to dinner alone with wife and girl, and so to the office, where mighty busy to my great content late, and then home to supper, talk with my wife, and to bed. It was doubtful today whether the House should be adjourned tomorrow or no.
. Up, and to the office, where very busy all the morning, and then in the afternoon I with Sir W. Penn and Sir T. Harvy to Whitehall to attend the Duke of York, who is now as well as ever, and there we did our usual business with him, and so away home with Sir W. Penn, and there to the office, where pretty late doing business, my wife having been abroad all day with Mrs. Turner buying of one thing or other. This day I do hear at Whitehall that the Duke of Monmouth is sick, and in danger of the smallpox. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my goldsmith’s in the morning, to look after the providing of £60 for Mr. Moore, towards the answering of my Lord Sandwich’s bill of exchange, he being come to be contented with my lending him £60 in part of it, which pleases me, I expecting to have been forced to answer the whole bill; and this, which I do do, I hope to secure out of the plate, which was delivered into my custody of my Lord’s the other day by Mr. Cooke, and which I did get Mr. Stokes, the goldsmith, last night to weigh at my house, and there is enough to secure £100. Thence home to the office, and there all the morning by particular appointment with Sir W. Penn, Sir R. Ford, and those that are concerned for my Lady Batten (Mr. Wood, Young, and Lewes), to even the accounts of our prize business, and at noon broke up, and to dinner, every man to his own home, and to it till late at night again, and we did come to some end, and I am mightily put to it how to order the business of my bargaine, but my industry is to keep it off from discourse till the ship be brought home safe, and this I did do, and so we broke up, she appearing in our debts about £1,500, and so we parted, and I to my business, and home to my wife, who is troubled with the tooth ache, and there however I got her to read to me the History of Algiers, which I find a very pretty book, and so to supper with much pleasure talking, and to bed. The Parliament not adjourned yet.
. Up, and to the Office, where Commissioner Middleton first took place at the Board as Surveyor of the Navy; and indeed I think will be an excellent officer; I am sure much beyond what his predecessor was. At noon, to avoid being forced to invite him to dinner, it being his first day, and nobody inviting him, I did go to the ’Change with Sir W. Penn in his coach, who first went to Guildhall, whither I went with him, he to speak with Sheriff Gawden—I only for company; and did here look up and down this place, where I have not been before since the fire; and I see that the city are got a pace on in the rebuilding of Guildhall.3787 Thence to the ’Change, where I stayed very little, and so home to dinner, and there find my wife mightily out of order with her teeth. At the office all the afternoon, and at night by coach to Westminster, to the Hall, where I met nobody, and do find that this evening the King by message (which he never did before) hath passed several bills, among others that for the Accounts, and for banishing my Lord Chancellor, and hath adjourned the House to February; at which I am glad, hoping in this time to get leisure to state my Tangier Accounts, and to prepare better for the Parliament’s enquiries. Here I hear how the House of Lords, with great severity, if not tyranny, have ordered poor Carr, who only erred in the manner of the presenting his petition against my Lord Gerard, it being first printed before it was presented; which was, it, seems, by Colonel Sands’s3788 going into the country, into whose hands he had put it: the poor man is ordered to stand in the pillory two or three times, and his ears cut, and be imprisoned I know not how long.3789 But it is believed that the Commons, when they meet, will not be well pleased with it; and they have no reason, I think. Having only heard this from Mrs. Michell, I away again home, and there to supper and to bed, my wife exceeding ill in her face with the tooth ache, and now her face has become mightily swelled that I am mightily troubled for it.
. Up, and all the morning at the office with Sir R. Ford and the same company as on Wednesday about my Lady Batten’s accounts. At noon home to dinner, where my poor wife in bed in mighty pain, her left cheek so swelled as that we feared it would break, and so were fain to send for Mr. Hollier, who come, and seems doubtful of the defluxions of humours that may spoil her face, if not timely cured. He laid a poultice to it and other directions, and so away, and I to the office, where on the same accounts very late, and did come pretty near a settlement. So at night to Sir W. Penn’s with Sir R. Ford, and there was Sir D. Gawden, and there we only talked of sundry things; and I have found of late, by discourse, that the present sort of government is looked upon as a sort of government that we never had yet—that is to say, a King and House of Commons against the House of Lords; for so indeed it is, though neither of the two first care a fig for one another, nor the third for them both, only the Bishops are afeard of losing ground, as I believe they will. So home to my poor wife, who is in mighty pain, and her face miserably swelled: so as I was frighted to see it, and I was forced to lie below in the great chamber, where I have not lain many a day, and having sat up with her, talking and reading and pitying her, I to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner with my Clerks and Creed, who among other things all alone, after dinner, talking of the times, he tells me that the Nonconformists are mighty high, and their meetings frequented and connived at; and they do expect to have their day now soon; for my Lord of Buckingham is a declared friend to them, and even to the Quakers, who had very good words the other day from the King himself: and, what is more, the Archbishop of Canterbury is called no more to the Cabal,3790 nor, by the way, Sir W. Coventry; which I am sorry for, the Cabal at present being, as he says, the King, and Duke of Buckingham, and Lord Keeper, the Duke of Albemarle, and Privy Seale. The Bishops, differing from the King in the late business in the House of Lords, having caused this and what is like to follow, for everybody is encouraged nowadays to speak, and even to preach, as I have heard one of them, as bad things against them as ever in the year 1640; which is a strange change. He gone, I to the office, where busy till late at night, and then home to sit with my wife, who is a little better, and her cheek asswaged. I read to her out of The History of Algiers, which is mighty pretty reading, and did discourse alone about my sister Pall’s match, which is now on foot with one Jackson, another nephew of Mr. Phillips’s, to whom he hath left his estate.
. Up, and my wife, poor wretch, still in pain, and then to dress myself and down to my chamber to settle some papers, and thither come to me Willet with an errand from her mistress, and this time I first did give her a little kiss, she being a very pretty humoured girl, and so one that I do love mightily. Thence to my office, and there did a little business, and so to church, where a dull sermon, and then home, and Cousin Kate Joyce come and dined with me and Mr. Holliard; but by chance I offering occasion to him to discourse of the Church of Rome, Lord! how he run on to discourse with the greatest vehemence and importunity in the world, as the only thing in the world that he is full of, and it was good sport to me to see him so earnest on so little occasion. She come to see us and to tell me that her husband is going to build his house again, and would borrow of me £300, which I shall upon good security be willing to do, and so told her, being willing to have some money out of my hands upon good security. After dinner up to my wife again, who is in great pain still with her tooth, and there, they gone, I spent the most of the afternoon and night reading and talking to bear her company, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up before day, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry’s, and with him to Whitehall, and there walked a great while with him in the garden till the Commissioners of the Treasury met, and there talked over many businesses, and particularly he tells me that by my desire he hath moved the Duke of York that Sir J. Minnes might be removed from the Navy, at least the Controller’s place, and his business put on my Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn; that the Committee for Accounts are good sober men, and such as he thinks we shall have fair play from; that he hopes that the kingdom will escape ruin in general, notwithstanding all our fears, and yet I find he do seem not very confident in it. So to the Commissioners of the Treasury, and there I had a dispute before them with Sir Stephen Fox about our orders for money, who is very angry, but I value it not. But, Lord! to see with what folly my Lord Albemarle do speak in this business would make a man wonder at the good fortune of such a fool. Thence meeting there with Creed, he and I to the Exchange, and there I saw Carr stand in the pillory for the business of my Lord Gerard, which is supposed will make a hot business in the House of Commons, when they shall come to sit again, the Lords having ordered this with great injustice, as all people think, his only fault being the printing his petition before, by accident, his petition be read in the House. Here walked up and down the Exchange with Creed, and then home to dinner, and there hear by Creed that the Bishops of Winchester3791 and of Rochester,3792 and the Dean of the Chapel, and some other great prelates, are suspended: and a cloud upon the Archbishop ever since the late business in the House of Lords; and I believe it will be a heavy blow to the Clergy. This noon I bought a sermon of Dr. Floyd’s,3793 which Creed read a great part of to me and Mr. Hollier, who dined with me, but as well writ and as good, against the Church of Rome, as ever I read; but, Lord! how Hollier, poor man, was taken with it. They gone I to the office, and there very late with Mr. Willson and my people about the making of a new contract for the victualler, which do and will require a great deal of pains of me, and so to supper and to bed, my wife being pretty well all this day by reason of her imposthume being broke in her cheek into her mouth. This day, at the ’Change, Creed showed me Mr. Coleman, of whom my wife hath so good an opinion, and says that he is as very a rogue for women as any in the world; which did disquiet me, like a fool, and run in my mind a great while.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and at noon with my clerks to dinner, and then to the office again, busy at the office till six at night, and then by coach to St. James’s, it being about six at night; my design being to see the ceremonies, this night being the eve of Christmas, at the Queen’s chapel. But it being not begun I to Westminster Hall, and there stayed and walked, and then to the Swan, and there drank and talked, and did banter a little Frank, and so to Whitehall, and sent my coach round, I through the Park to chapel, where I got in up almost to the rail, and with a great deal of patience stayed from nine at night to two in the morning, in a very great crowd; and there expected, but found nothing extraordinary, there being nothing but a high masse. The Queen was there, and some ladies. But, Lord! what an odde thing it was for me to be in a crowd of people, here a footman, there a beggar, here a fine lady, there a zealous poor papist, and here a Protestant, two or three together, come to see the show. I was afeard of my pocket being picked very much. … Their music very good indeed, but their service I confess too frivolous, that there can be no zeal go along with it, and I do find by them themselves that they do run over their beads with one hand, and point and play and talk and make signs with the other in the midst of their masse. But all things very rich and beautiful; and I see the papists have the wit, most of them, to bring cushions to kneel on, which I wanted, and was mightily troubled to kneel. All being done, and I sorry for my coming, missing of what I expected; which was, to have had a child born and dressed there, and a great deal of do: but we broke up, and nothing like it done: and there I left people receiving the Sacrament: and the Queen gone, and ladies; only my Lady Castlemayne, who looked prettily in her nightclothes, and so took my coach, which waited, and away through Covent Garden, to set down two gentlemen and a lady, who come thither to see also, and did make mighty mirth in their talk of the folly of this religion. And so I stopped, having set them down and drank some burnt wine at the Rose Tavern3794 door, while the constables come, and two or three Bellmen went by,
. It being a fine, light, moonshine morning, and so home round the city, and stopped and dropped money at five or six places, which I was the willinger to do, it being Christmas-day, and so home, and there find my wife in bed, and Jane and the maids making pies, and so I to bed, and slept well, and rose about nine, and to church, and there heard a dull sermon of Mr. Mills, but a great many fine people at church; and so home. Wife and girl and I alone at dinner—a good Christmas dinner, and all the afternoon at home, my wife reading to me The History of the Drummer of Mr. Mompesson,3795 which is a strange story of spies, and worth reading indeed. In the evening comes Mr. Pelling, and he sat and supped with us; and very good company, he reciting to us many copies of good verses of Dr. Wilde,3796 who writ Iter Boreale, and so to bed, my boy being gone with W. Hewer and Mr. Hater to Mr. Gibson’s in the country to dinner and lie there all night.
. Up and to Westminster, and there to the Swan, and by chance met Mr. Spicer and another ’Chequer clerk, and there made them drink, and there talked of the credit the ’Chequer is now come to and will in a little time, and so away homeward, and called at my bookseller’s, and there bought Mr. Harrington’s works, Oceana, etc., and two other books, which cost me £4, and so home, and there eat a bit, and then with my wife to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Surprisal; which did not please me today, the actors not pleasing me; and especially Nell’s acting of a serious part, which she spoils.3797 Here met with Sir W. Penn, and sat by him, and home by coach with him, and there to my office a while, and then home to supper and to bed. I hear this day that Mrs. Stewart do at this day keep a great court at Somerset House, with her husband the Duke of Richmond, she being visited for her beauty’s sake by people, as the Queen is, at nights; and they say also that she is likely to go to Court again, and there put my Lady Castlemayne’s nose out of joint. God knows that would make a great turn. This day I was invited to have gone to my cousin Mary3798 Pepys’ burial, my uncle Thomas’ daughter, but could not.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there walked with Creed in the Matted gallery till by and by a Committee for Tangier met: the Duke of York there; and there I did discourse over to them their condition as to money, which they were all mightily, as I could desire, satisfied with, but the Duke of Albemarle, who takes the part of the Guards against us in our supplies of money, which is an odd consideration for a dull, heavy blockhead as he is, understanding no more of either than a goose: but the ability and integrity of Sir W. Coventry, in all the King’s concernments, I do and must admire. After the Committee up, I and Sir W. Coventry walked an hour in the gallery, talking over many businesses, and he tells me that there are so many things concur to make him and his Fellow Commissioners unable to go through the King’s work that he do despair of it, everybody becoming an enemy to them in their retrenchments, and the King unstable, the debts great and the King’s present occasions for money great and many and pressing, the bankers broke and everybody keeping in their money, while the times are doubtful what will stand. But he says had they come in two years ago they doubt not to have done what the King would by this time, or were the King in the condition as heretofore, when the Chancellor was great, to be able to have what sums of money they pleased of the Parliament, and then the ill administration was such that instead of making good use of this power and money he suffered all to go to ruin. But one such sum now would put all upon their legs, and now the King would have the Parliament give him money when they are in an ill humour and will not be willing to give any, nor are very able, and besides everybody distrusts what they give the King will be lost; whereas six months hence, when they see that the King can live without them, and is become steady, and to manage what he has well, he doubts not but their doubts would be removed, and would be much more free as well as more able to give him money. He told me how some of his enemies at the Duke of York’s had got the Duke of York’s commission for the Commissioners of his estate changed, and he and Brouncker and Povy left out: that this they did do to disgrace and impose upon him at this time; but that he, though he values not the thing, did go and tell the Duke of York what he heard, and that he did not think that he had given him any reason to do this, out of his belief that he would not be as faithful and serviceable to him as the best of those that have got him put out. Whereupon the Duke of York did say that it arose only from his not knowing whether now he would have time to regard his affairs; and that, if he should, he would put him into the commission with his own hand, though the commission be passed. He answered that he had been faithful to him, and done him good service therein, so long as he could attend it; and if he had been able to have attended it more, he would not have enriched himself with such and such estates as my Lord Chancellor hath got, that did properly belong to his Royal Highness, as being forfeited to the King, and so by the King’s gift given to the Duke of York. Hereupon the Duke of York did call for the commission, and hath since put him in. This he tells me he did only to show his enemies that he is not so low as to be trod on by them, or the Duke hath any so bad opinion of him as they would think. Here we parted, and I with Sir H. Cholmly went and took a turn into the Park, and there talked of several things, and about Tangier particularly, and of his management of his business, and among other discourse about the method he will leave his accounts in if he should suddenly die, he says there is nothing but what is easily understood, but only a sum of £500 which he has entered given to E. E. S., which in great confidence he do discover to me to be my Lord Sandwich, at the beginning of their contract for the Mole, and I suppose the rest did the like, which was £1,500, which would appear a very odd thing for my Lord to be a profiter by the getting of the contract made for them. But here it puts me into thoughts how I shall own my receiving of £200 a year from him, but it is his gift, I never asked of him, and which he did to Mr. Povy, and so there is no great matter in it. Thence to other talk. He tells me that the business of getting the Duchess of Richmond to Court is broke off, the Duke not suffering it; and thereby great trouble is brought among the people that endeavoured it, and thought they had compassed it. And, Lord! to think that at this time the King should mind no other cares but these! He tells me that my Lord of Canterbury is a mighty stout man, and a man of a brave, high spirit, and cares not for this disfavour that he is under at Court, knowing that the King cannot take away his profits during his life, and therefore do not value it.3799 Thence I home, and there to my office and wrote a letter to the Duke of York from myself about my clerks extraordinary, which I have employed this war, to prevent my being obliged to answer for what others do without any reason demand allowance for, and so by this means I will be accountable for none but my own, and they shall not have them but upon the same terms that I have, which is a profession that with these helps they will answer to their having performed their duties of their places. So to dinner, and then away by coach to the Temple, and then for speed by water thence to Whitehall, and there to our usual attending the Duke of York, and did attend him, where among other things I did present and lodge my letter, and did speed in it as I could wish. Thence home with Sir W. Penn and Comm. Middleton by coach, and there home and to cards with my wife, W. Hewer, Mercer, and the girl, and mighty pleasant all the evening, and so to bed with my wife, which I have not done since her being ill for three weeks or thereabouts.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning, at noon home, and there to dinner with my clerks and Mr. Pelling, and had a very good dinner, among others a haunch of venison boiled, and merry we were, and I rose soon from dinner, and with my wife and girl to the King’s house, and there saw The Mad Couple, which is but an ordinary play; but only Nell’s and Hart’s mad parts are most excellently done, but especially hers: which makes it a miracle to me to think how ill she do any serious part,3800 as, the other day, just like a fool or changeling; and, in a mad part, do beyond all imitation almost. [It pleased us mightily to see the natural affection of a poor woman, the mother of one of the children brought on the stage: the child crying, she by force got upon the stage, and took up her child and carried it away off of the stage from Hart.] Many fine faces here today. Thence home, and there to the office late, and then home to supper and to bed. I am told today, which troubles me, that great complaint is made upon the ’Change, among our merchants, that the very Ostend little pickaroon3801 men-of-war do offer violence to our merchantmen, and search them, beat our masters, and plunder them, upon pretence of carrying Frenchmen’s goods. Lord! what a condition are we come to, and that so soon after a war!
. Up, and at my chamber all the day, both morning and afternoon (only a little at dinner with my wife alone), upon the settling of my Tangier accounts towards the evening of all reckonings now against the new year, and here I do see the great folly of letting things go long unevened, it being very hard for me and dangerous to state after things are gone out of memory, and much more would be so should I have died in this time and my accounts come to other hands, to understand which would never be. At night comes Mrs. Turner to see us; and there, among other talk, she tells me that Mr. William Penn, who is lately come over from Ireland, is a Quaker again, or some very melancholy thing; that he cares for no company, nor comes into any which is a pleasant thing, after his being abroad so long, and his father such a hypocritical rogue, and at this time an Atheist. She gone, I to my very great content do find my accounts to come very even and naturally, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up before day, and by coach to Westminster, and there first to Sir H. Cholmly, and there I did to my great content deliver him up his little several papers for sums of money paid him, and took his regular receipts upon his orders, wherein I am safe. Thence to Whitehall, and there to visit Sir G. Carteret, and there was with him a great while, and my Lady and they seem in very good humour, but by and by Sir G. Carteret and I alone, and there we did talk of the ruinous condition we are in, the King being going to put out of the Council so many able men; such as my Lord Anglesey, Ashly, Hollis, Secretary Morrice (to bring in Mr. Trevor),3802 and the Archbishop of Canterbury, and my Lord Bridgewater. He tells me that this is true, only the Duke of York do endeavour to hinder it, and the Duke of York himself did tell him so: that the King and the Duke of York do not in company disagree, but are friendly; but that there is a core in their hearts, he doubts, which is not to be easily removed; for these men do suffer only for their constancy to the Chancellor, or at least from the King’s ill-will against him: that they do now all they can to vilify the clergy, and do accuse Rochester [Dolben] …3803 and so do raise scandals, all that is possible, against other of the Bishops. He do suggest that something is intended for the Duke of Monmouth, and it may be, against the Queen also: that we are in no manner sure against an invasion the next year: that the Duke of Buckingham do rule all now, and the Duke of York comes indeed to the Caball, but signifies little there. That this new faction do not endure, nor the King, Sir W. Coventry; but yet that he is so useful that they cannot be without him; but that he is not now called to the Caball. That my Lord of Buckingham, Bristoll, and Arlington, do seem to agree in these things; but that they do not in their hearts trust one another, but do drive several ways, all of them. In short, he do bless himself that he is no more concerned in matters now; and the hopes he hath of being at liberty, when his accounts are over, to retire into the country. That he do give over the kingdom for wholly lost. So after some other little discourse, I away, meeting with Mr. Cooling. I with him by coach to the Wardrobe, where I never was since the fire in Hatton Garden, but did not ’light: and he tells me he fears that my Lord Sandwich will suffer much by Mr. Townsend’s being untrue to him, he being now unable to give the Commissioners of the Treasury an account of his money received by many thousands of pounds, which I am troubled for. Thence to the Old Exchange together, he telling me that he believes there will be no such turning out of great men as is talked of, but that it is only to fright people, but I do fear there may be such a thing doing. He do mightily inveigh against the folly of the King to bring his matters to wrack thus, and that we must all be undone without help. I met with Cooling at the Temple-gate, after I had been at both my booksellers and there laid out several pounds in books now against the new year. From the ’Change (where I met with Captain Cocke, who would have borrowed money of me, but I had the grace to deny him, he would have had 3 or £400) I with Cocke and Mr. Temple (whose wife was just now brought to bed of a boy, but he seems not to be at all taken with it, which is a strange consideration how others do rejoice to have a child born), to Sir G. Carteret’s, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and there did dine together, there being there, among other company, Mr. Attorney Montagu,3804 and his fine lady, a fine woman. After dinner, I did understand from my Lady Jemimah that her brother Hinchingbroke’s business was to be ended this day, as she thinks, towards his match,3805 and they do talk here of their intent to buy themselves some new clothes against the wedding, which I am very glad of. After dinner I did even with Sir G. Carteret the accounts of the interest of the money which I did so long put out for him in Sir R. Viner’s hands, and by it I think I shall be a gainer about £28, which is a very good reward for the little trouble I have had in it. Thence with Sir Philip Carteret3806 to the King’s playhouse, there to see Love’s Cruelty,3807 an old play, but which I have not seen before; and in the first act Orange Moll come to me, with one of our porters by my house, to tell me that Mrs. Pierce and Knepp did dine at my house today, and that I was desired to come home. So I went out presently, and by coach home, and they were just gone away so, after a very little stay with my wife, I took coach again, and to the King’s playhouse again, and come in the fourth act; and it proves to me a very silly play, and to everybody else, as far as I could judge. But the jest is, that here telling Moll how I had lost my journey, she told me that Mrs. Knepp was in the house, and so shows me to her, and I went to her, and sat out the play, and then with her to Mrs. Manuel’s, where Mrs. Pierce was, and her boy and girl; and here I did hear Mrs. Manuel and one of the Italians, her gallant, sing well. But yet I confess I am not delighted so much with it, as to admire it: for, not understanding the words, I lose the benefit of the vocalities of the music, and it proves only instrumental; and therefore was more pleased to hear Knepp sing two or three little English things that I understood, though the composition of the other, and performance, was very fine. Thence, after sitting and talking a pretty while, I took leave and left them there, and so to my bookseller’s, and paid for the books I had bought, and away home, where I told my wife where I had been. But she was as mad as a devil, and nothing but ill words between us all the evening while we sat at cards—W. Hewer and the girl by—even to gross ill words, which I was troubled for, but do see that I must use policy to keep her spirit down, and to give her no offence by my being with Knepp and Pierce, of which, though she will not own it, yet she is heartily jealous. At last it ended in few words and my silence (which for fear of growing higher between us I did forbear), and so to supper and to bed without one word one to another. This day I did carry money out, and paid several debts. Among others, my tailor, and shoemaker, and draper, Sir W. Turner, who begun to talk of the Commission of accounts,3808 wherein he is one; but though they are the greatest people that ever were in the nation as to power, and like to be our judges, yet I did never speak one word to him of desiring favour, or bidding him joy in it, but did answer him to what he said, and do resolve to stand or fall by my silent preparing to answer whatever can be laid to me, and that will be my best proceeding, I think. This day I got a little rent in my new fine camlet cloak with the latch of Sir G. Carteret’s door; but it is darned up at my tailor’s, that it will be no great blemish to it; but it troubled me. I could not but observe that Sir Philip Carteret would fain have given me my going into a play; but yet, when he come to the door, he had no money to pay for himself, I having refused to accept of it for myself, but was fain; and I perceive he is known there, and do run upon the score for plays, which is a shame; but I perceive always he is in want of money.3809 In the pit I met with Sir Ch. North,3810 formerly Mr. North, who was with my Lord at sea; and he, of his own accord, was so silly as to tell me he is married; and for her quality (being a Lord’s daughter,3811 my Lord Grey), and person, and beauty, and years, and estate, and disposition, he is the happiest man in the world. I am sure he is an ugly fellow; but a good scholar and sober gentleman; and heir to his father, now Lord North, the old Lord being dead.
. Up, without words to my wife, or few, and those not angry, and so to Whitehall, and there waited a long time, while the Duke of York was with the King in the Caball, and there I and Creed stayed talking without, in the Vane-Room, and I perceive all people’s expectation is, what will be the issue of this great business of putting these great Lords out of the council and power, the quarrel, I perceive, being only their standing against the will of the King in the business of the Chancellor. Anon the Duke of York comes out, and then to a committee of Tangier, where my Lord Middleton did come today, and seems to me but a dull, heavy man; but he is a great soldier, and stout, and a needy Lord, which will still keep that poor garrison from ever coming to be worth anything to the King. Here, after a short meeting, we broke up, and I home to the office, where they are sitting, and so I to them, and having done our business rose, and I home to dinner with my people, and there dined with me my uncle Thomas, with a mourning hatband on, for his daughter Mary, and here I and my people did discourse of the Act for the accounts,3812 which do give the greatest power to these people, as they report that have read it (I having not yet read it, and indeed its nature is such as I have no mind to go about to read it, for fear of meeting matter in it to trouble me), that ever was given to any subjects, and too much also. After dinner with my wife and girl to Unthanke’s, and there left her, and I to Westminster, and there to Mrs. Martin’s, and did hazer con elle what I desired, and there did drink with her, and find fault with her husband’s wearing of too fine clothes, by which I perceive he will be a beggar, and so after a little talking I away and took up my wife again, and so home and to the office, where Captain Perryman did give me an account, walking in the garden, how the seamen of England are discouraged by want of money (or otherwise by being, as he says, but I think without cause, by their being underrated) so far as that he thinks the greatest part are gone abroad or going, and says that it is known that there are Irish in the town, up and down, that do labour to entice the seamen out of the nation by giving them £3 in hand, and promise of 40s. per month, to go into the King of France’s service, which is a mighty shame, but yet I believe is true. I did advise with him about my little vessel, The Maybolt, which he says will be best for me to sell, though my employing her to Newcastle this winter, and the next spring, for coals, will be a gainful trade, but yet make me great trouble, but I will think of it, and so to my office, ended my letters, and so home to supper and to bed, good friends with my wife. Thus ends the year, with great happiness to myself and family as to health and good condition in the world, blessed be God for it! only with great trouble to my mind in reference to the public, there being little hopes left but that the whole nation must in a very little time be lost, either by troubles at home, the Parliament being dissatisfied, and the King led into unsettled councils by some about him, himself considering little, and divisions growing between the King and Duke of York; or else by foreign invasion, to which we must submit if any, at this bad point of time, should come upon us, which the King of France is well able to do. These thoughts, and some cares upon me, concerning my standing in this Office when the Committee of Parliament shall come to examine our Navy matters, which they will now shortly do. I pray God they may do the kingdom service therein, as they will have sufficient opportunity of doing it!
January 1667–68
. Up, and all the morning in my chamber making up some accounts against this beginning of the new year, and so about noon abroad with my wife, who was to dine with W. Hewer and Willet at Mrs. Pierce’s, but I had no mind to be with them, for I do clearly find that my wife is troubled at my friendship with her and Knepp, and so dined with my Lord Crew, with whom was Mr. Browne, Clerk of the House of Lords, and Mr. John Crew. Here was mighty good discourse, as there is always: and among other things my Lord Crew did turn to a place in the Life of Sir Philip Sidney, wrote by Sir Fulke Greville,3813 which do foretell the present condition of this nation, in relation to the Dutch, to the very degree of a prophecy; and is so remarkable that I am resolved to buy one of them, it being, quite throughout, a good discourse.3814 Here they did talk much of the present cheapness of corne, even to a miracle; so as their farmers can pay no rent, but do fling up their lands; and would pay in corne: but, which I did observe to my Lord, and he liked well of it, our gentry are grown so ignorant in everything of good husbandry, that they know not how to bestow this corne: which, did they understand but a little trade, they would be able to join together, and know what markets there are abroad, and send it thither, and thereby ease their tenants and be able to pay themselves. They did talk much of the disgrace the Archbishop is fallen under with the King, and the rest of the Bishops also. Thence I after dinner to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw Sir Martin Marr-All; which I have seen so often, and yet am mightily pleased with it, and think it mighty witty, and the fullest of proper matter for mirth that ever was writ; and I do clearly see that they do improve in their acting of it. Here a mighty company of citizens, ’prentices, and others; and it makes me observe, that when I begun first to be able to bestow a play on myself, I do not remember that I saw so many by half of the ordinary ’prentices and mean people in the pit at 2s. 6d. apiece as now; I going for several years no higher than the 12d. and then the 18d. places, though, I strained hard to go in then when I did: so much the vanity and prodigality of the age is to be observed in this particular. Thence I to Whitehall, and there walked up and down the house a while, and do hear nothing of anything done further in this business of the change of Privy-counsellors: only I hear that Sir G. Savile,3815 one of the Parliament Committee of nine, for examining the Accounts, is by the King made a Lord, the Lord Halifax; which, I believe, will displease the Parliament. By and by I met with Mr. Brisband; and having it in my mind this Christmas to (do what I never can remember that I did) go to see the manner of the gaming at the Groome-Porter’s, I having in my coming from the playhouse stepped into the two Temple-halls, and there saw the dirty ’prentices and idle people playing; wherein I was mistaken, in thinking to have seen gentlemen of quality playing there, as I think it was when I was a little child, that one of my father’s servants, John Bassum, I think, carried me in his arms thither. I did tell Brisband of it, and he did lead me thither, where, after staying an hour, they begun to play at about eight at night, where to see how differently one man took his losing from another, one cursing and swearing, and another only muttering and grumbling to himself, a third without any apparent discontent at all: to see how the dice will run good luck in one hand, for half an hour together, and another have no good luck at all: to see how easily here, where they play nothing but guineas, a £100 is won or lost: to see two or three gentlemen come in there drunk, and putting their stock of gold together, one 22 pieces, the second 4, and the third 5 pieces; and these to play one with another, and forget how much each of them brought, but he that brought the 22 thinks that he brought no more than the rest: to see the different humours of gamesters to change their luck, when it is bad, how ceremonious they are as to call for new dice, to shift their places, to alter their manner of throwing, and that with great industry, as if there was anything in it: to see how some old gamesters, that have no money now to spend as formerly, do come and sit and look on, as among others, Sir Lewis Dives,3816 who was here, and hath been a great gamester in his time: to hear their cursing and damning to no purpose, as one man being to throw a seven if he could, and, failing to do it after a great many throws, cried he would be damned if ever he flung seven more while he lived, his despair of throwing it being so great, while others did it as their luck served almost every throw: to see how persons of the best quality do here sit down, and play with people of any, though meaner; and to see how people in ordinary clothes shall come hither, and play away 100, or 2 or 300 guineas, without any kind of difficulty: and lastly, to see the formality of the groome-porter, who is their judge of all disputes in play and all quarrels that may arise therein, and how his under-officers are there to observe true play at each table, and to give new dice, is a consideration I never could have thought had been in the world, had I not now seen it. And mighty glad I am that I did see it, and it may be will find another evening, before Christmas be over, to see it again, when I may stay later, for their heat of play begins not till about eleven or twelve o’clock; which did give me another pretty observation of a man, that did win mighty fast when I was there. I think he won £100 at single pieces in a little time. While all the rest envied him his good fortune, he cursed it, saying, “A pox on it, that it should come so early upon me, for this fortune two hours hence would be worth something to me, but then, God damn me, I shall have no such luck.” This kind of profane, mad entertainment they give themselves. And so I, having enough for once, refusing to venture, though Brisband pressed me hard, and tempted me with saying that no man was ever known to lose the first time, the devil being too cunning to discourage a gamester; and he offered me also to lend me ten pieces to venture; but I did refuse, and so went away, and took coach and home about 9 or 10 at night, where not finding my wife come home, I took the same coach again, and leaving my watch behind me for fear of robbing, I did go back and to Mrs. Pierce’s, thinking they might not have broken up yet, but there I find my wife newly gone, and not going out of my coach spoke only to Mr. Pierce in his nightgown in the street, and so away back again home, and there to supper with my wife and to talk about their dancing and doings at Mrs. Pierce’s today, and so to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to Whitehall, and there attended the King and the Duke of York in the Duke of York’s lodgings, with the rest of the Officers and many of the Commanders of the fleet, and some of our master shipwrights, to discourse the business of having the topmasts of ships made to lower abaft of the mainmast; a business I understand not, and so can give no good account; but I do see that by how much greater the Council, and the number of Counsellors is, the more confused the issue is of their councils; so that little was said to the purpose regularly, and but little use was made of it, they coming to a very broken conclusion upon it, to make trial in a ship or two. From this they fell to other talk about the fleet’s fighting this late war, and how the King’s ships have been shattered; though the King said that the world would not have it that about ten or twenty ships in any fight did do any service, and that this hath been told so to him himself, by ignorant people. The Prince,3817 who was there, was mightily surprised at it, and seemed troubled: but the King told him that it was only discourse of the world. But Mr. Wren whispered me in the ear, and said that the Duke of Albemarle had put it into his Narrative for the House, that not above twenty-five ships fought in the engagement wherein he was, but that he was advised to leave it out; but this he did write from sea, I am sure, or words to that effect: and did displease many commanders, among others, Captain Batts, who the Duke of York said was a very stout man, all the world knew; and that another was brought into his ship that had been turned out of his place when he was a boatswain, not long before, for being a drunkard. This the Prince took notice of, and would have been angry, I think, but they let their discourse fall: but the Duke of York was earnest in it. And the Prince said to me, standing by me, “God damn me, if they will turn out every man that will be drunk, they must turn out all the commanders in the fleet. What is the matter if he be drunk, so when he comes to fight he do his work? At least, let him be punished for his drunkenness, and not put out of his command presently.” This he spoke, very much concerned for this idle fellow, one Greene. After this the King began to tell stories of the cowardice of the Spaniards in Flanders, when he was there, at the siege of Mardike and Dunkirke;3818 which was very pretty, though he tells them but meanly. This being done I to Westminster Hall, and there stayed a little: and then home, and by the way did find with difficulty the Life of Sir Philip Sidney (the book I mentioned yesterday). And the bookseller told me that he had sold four, within this week or two, which is more than ever he sold in all his life of them; and he could not imagine what should be the reason of it: but I suppose it is from the same reason of people’s observing of this part therein, touching his prophesying our present condition here in England in relation to the Dutch, which is very remarkable.3819 So home to dinner, where Balty’s wife is come to town; she come last night and lay at my house, but being weary was gone to bed before I come home, and so I saw her not before. After dinner I took my wife and her girl out to the New Exchange, and there my wife bought herself a lace for a handkercher, which I do give her, of about £3, for a new year’s gift, and I did buy also a lace for a band for myself, and so home, and there to the office busy late, and so home to my chamber, where busy on some accounts, and then to supper and to bed. This day my wife shows me a locket of diamonds worth about £40, which W. Hewer do press her to accept, and hath done for a good while, out of his gratitude for my kindness and hers to him. But I do not like that she should receive it, it not being honourable for me to do it; and so do desire her to force him to take it back again, he leaving it against her will yesterday with her. And she did this evening force him to take it back, at which she says he is troubled; but, however, it becomes me more to refuse it, than to let her accept of it. And so I am well pleased with her returning it him. It is generally believed that France is endeavouring a firmer league with us than the former, in order to his going on with his business against Spain the next year; which I am, and so everybody else is, I think, very glad of, for all our fear is, of his invading us. This day, at Whitehall, I overheard Sir W. Coventry propose to the King his ordering3820 of some particular thing in the Wardrobe, which was of no great value; but yet, as much as it was, it was of profit to the King and saving to his purse. The King answered to it with great indifferency, as a thing that it was no great matter whether it was done or no. Sir W. Coventry answered: “I see your Majesty do not remember the old English proverb, ‘He that will not stoop for a pin, will never be worth a pound.’ ” And so they parted, the King bidding him do as he would; which, methought, was an answer not like a King that did intend ever to do well.
. At the office all the morning with Mr. Willson and my clerks, consulting again about a new contract with the Victualler of the Navy, and at noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, where busy all the afternoon preparing something for the Council about Tangier this evening. So about five o’clock away with it to the Council, and there do find that the Council hath altered its times of sitting to the mornings, and so I lost my labour, and back again by coach presently round by the city wall, it being dark, and so home, and there to the office, where till midnight with Mr. Willson and my people to go through with the Victualler’s contract and the considerations about the new one, and so home to supper and to bed, thinking my time very well spent.
. Up, and there to the office, where we sat all the morning; at noon home to dinner, where my clerks and Mr. Clerke the solicitor with me, and dinner being done I to the office again, where all the afternoon till late busy, and then home with my mind pleased at the pleasure of despatching my business, and so to supper and to bed, my thoughts full, how to order our design of having some dancing at our house on Monday next, being Twelfth-day. It seems worth remembering that this day I did hear my Lord Anglesey at the table, speaking touching this new Act for Accounts, say that the House of Lords did pass it because it was a senseless, impracticable, ineffectual, and foolish Act; and that my Lord Ashly having shown this that it was so to the House of Lords, the Duke of Buckingham did stand up and told the Lords that they were beholden to my Lord Ashly, that having first commended them for a most grave and honourable assembly, he thought it fit for the House to pass this Act for Accounts because it was a foolish and simple Act: and it seems it was passed with but a few in the House, when it was intended to have met in a grand Committee upon it. And it seems that in itself it is not to be practiced till after this session of Parliament, by the very words of the Act, which nobody regarded, and therefore cannot come in force yet, unless the next meeting they do make a new Act for the bringing it into force sooner; which is a strange omission. But I perceive my Lord Anglesey do make a mere laughingstock of this Act, as a thing that can do nothing considerable, for all its great noise.
. Up, and being ready, and disappointed of a coach, it breaking a wheel just as it was coming for me, I walked as far as the Temple, it being dirty, and as I went out of my doors my cousin Anthony Joyce met me, and so walked part of the way with me, and it was to see what I would do upon what his wife a little while since did desire, which was to supply him £350 to enable him to go to build his house again. I (who in my nature am mighty unready to answer no to anything, and thereby wonder that I have suffered no more in my life by my easiness in that kind than I have) answered him that I would do it, and so I will, he offering me good security, and so it being left for me to consider the manner of doing it we parted. Taking coach as I said before at the Temple, I to Charing Cross, and there went into Unthanke’s to have my shoes wiped, dirty with walking, and so to Whitehall, where I visited the Vice-Chamberlain, who tells me, and so I find by others, that the business of putting out of some of the Privy-council is over, the King being at last advised to forbear it; for whereas he did design it to make room for some of the House of Commons that are against him, thereby to gratify them, it is believed that it will but so much the more fret the rest that are not provided for, and raise a new stock of enemies by them that are displeased, and so all they think is over: and it goes for a pretty saying of my Lord Anglesey’s up and down the Court, that he should lately say to one of them that are the great promoters of this putting him and others out of the Council, “Well,” says he, “and what are we to look for when we are outed? Will all things be set right in the nation?” The other said that he did believe that many things would be mended: “But,” says my Lord, “will you and the rest of you be contented to be hanged, if you do not redeem all our misfortunes and set all right, if the power be put into your hands?” The other answered, “No, I would not undertake that.” “Why, then,” says my Lord, “I and the rest of us that you are labouring to put out, will be contented to be hanged, if we do not recover all that is past, if the King will put the power into our hands, and adhere wholly to our advice;” which saying as it was severe, so generally people have so little opinion of those that are likely to be uppermost that they do mightily commend my Lord Anglesey for this saying. From the Vice-Chamberlain up and down the house till Chapel done, and then did speak with several that I had a mind to, and so intending to go home, my Lady Carteret saw and called me out of her window, and so would have me home with her to Lincoln’s Inn Fields to dinner, and there we met with my Lord Brereton, and several other strangers, to dine there; and I find him a very sober and serious, able man, and was in discourse too hard for the Bishop of Chester,3821 who dined there; and who, above all books lately wrote, commending the matter and style of a late book, called The Causes of the Decay of Piety,3822 I do resolve at his great commendation to buy it. Here dined also Sir Philip Howard, a Barkeshire Howard,3823 whom I did once hear swear publicly and loud in the matted gallery that he had not been at a wench in so long a time. He did take occasion to tell me at the table that I have got great ground in the Parliament, by my ready answers to all that was asked me there about the business of Chatham, and they would never let me be out of employment, of which I made little; but was glad to hear him, as well as others, say it. And he did say also, relating to Commissioner Pett, that he did not think that he was guilty of anything like a fault, that he was either able or concerned to amend, but only the not carrying up of the ships higher, he meant; but he said, three or four miles lower down, to Rochester Bridge, which is a strange piece of ignorance in a Member of Parliament at such a time as this, and after so many examinations in the house of this business; and did boldly declare that he did think the fault to lie in my Lord Middleton, who had the power of the place, to secure the boats that were made ready by Pett, and to do anything that he thought fit, and was much, though not altogether in the right, for Spragg, that commanded the river, ought rather to be charged with the want of the boats and the placing of them. After dinner, my Lord Brereton very gentilely went to the organ, and played a verse very handsomely. Thence after dinner away with Sir G. Carteret to Whitehall, setting down my Lord Brereton at my Lord Brouncker’s, and there up and down the house, and on the Queen’s side, to see the ladies, and there saw the Duchess of York, whom few pay the respect they used, I think, to her; but she bears all out, with a very great deal of greatness; that is the truth of it. And so, it growing night, I away home by coach, and there set my wife to read, and then comes Pelling, and he and I to sing a little, and then sup and so to bed.
. Up, leaving my wife to get her ready, and the maids to get a supper ready against night for our company; and I by coach to Whitehall, and there up and down the house, and among others met with Mr. Pierce, by whom I find, as I was afeard from the folly of my wife, that he understood that he and his wife was to dine at my house today, whereas it was to sup; and therefore I, having done my business at court, did go home to dinner, and there find Mr. Harris, by the like mistake, come to dine with me. However, we did get a pretty dinner ready for him; and there he and I to discourse of many things, and I do find him a very excellent person, such as in my whole [acquaintances] I do not know another better qualified for converse, whether in things of his own trade, or of other kinds, a man of great understanding and observation, and very agreeable in the manner of his discourse, and civil as far as is possible. I was mightily pleased with his company; and after dinner did take coach with him, and my wife and girl, to go to a play, and to carry him thither to his own house. But I ’light by the way to return home, thinking to have spoke with Mrs. Bagwell, who I did see today in our entry, come from Harwich, whom I have not seen these twelve months, I think, and more, and voudrai avoir hazer alcun with her, sed she was gone, and so I took coach and away to my wife at the Duke of York’s house, in the pit, and so left her; and to Mrs. Pierce, and took her and her cousin Corbet, Knepp and little James, and brought them to the Duke’s house; and, the house being full, was forced to carry them to a box, which did cost me 20s., besides oranges, which troubled me, though their company did please me. Thence, after the play, stayed till Harris was undressed, there being acted The Tempest, and so he withall, all by coach, home, where we find my house with good fires and candles ready, and our Office the like, and the two Mercers, and Betty Turner, Pendleton, and W. Batelier. And so with much pleasure we into the house, and there fell to dancing, having extraordinary Music, two violins, and a base violin, and theorbo, four hands, the Duke of Buckingham’s music, the best in town, sent me by Greeting, and there we set in to dancing. By and by to my house, to a very good supper, and mighty merry, and good music playing; and after supper to dancing and singing till about twelve at night; and then we had a good sack posset for them, and an excellent cake, cost me near 20s., of our Jane’s making, which was cut into twenty pieces, there being by this time so many of our company, by the coming in of young Goodyer and some others of our neighbours, young men that could dance, hearing of our dancing; and anon comes in Mrs. Turner, the mother, and brings with her Mrs. Hollworthy, which pleased me mightily. And so to dancing again, and singing, with extraordinary great pleasure, till about two in the morning, and then broke up; and Mrs. Pierce and her family, and Harris and Knepp by coach home, as late as it was. And they gone, I took Mrs. Turner and Hollworthy home to my house, and there gave wine and sweetmeats; but I find Mrs. Hollworthy but a mean woman, I think, for understanding, only a little conceited, and proud, and talking, but nothing extraordinary in person, or discourse, or understanding. However, I was mightily pleased with her being there, I having long longed for to know her, and they being gone, I paid the fiddlers £3 among the four, and so away to bed, weary and mightily pleased, and have the happiness to reflect upon it as I do sometimes on other things, as going to a play or the like, to be the greatest real comfort that I am to expect in the world, and that it is that that we do really labour in the hopes of; and so I do really enjoy myself, and understand that if I do not do it now I shall not hereafter, it may be, be able to pay for it, or have health to take pleasure in it, and so fill myself with vain expectation of pleasure and go without it.
. Up, weary, about 9 o’clock, and then out by coach to Whitehall to attend the Lords of the Treasury about Tangier with Sir Stephen Fox, and having done with them I away back again home by coach time enough to dispatch some business, and after dinner with Sir W. Penn’s coach (he being gone before with Sir D. Gawden) to Whitehall to wait on the Duke of York, but I finding him not there, nor the Duke of York within, I away by coach to the Nursery,3824 where I never was yet, and there to meet my wife and Mercer and Willet as they promised; but the house did not act today; and so I was at a loss for them, and therefore to the other two playhouses into the pit, to gaze up and down, to look for them, and there did by this means, for nothing, see an act in The Schoole of Compliments3825 at the Duke of York’s house, and Henry the Fourth at the King’s house; but, not finding them, nor liking either of the plays,3826 I took my coach again, and home, and there to my office to do business, and by and by they come home, and had been at the King’s House, and saw me, but I could [not] see them, and there I walked with them in the garden awhile, and to sing with Mercer there a little, and so home with her, and taught her a little of my “It is decreed,” which I have a mind to have her learn to sing, and she will do it well, and so after supper she went away, and we to bed, and there made amends by sleep for what I wanted last night.
. Up, and it being dirty, I by coach (which I was forced to go to the charge for) to Whitehall, and there did deliver the Duke of York a memorial for the Council about the case of Tangiers want of money; and I was called in there and my paper was read. I did not think fit to say much, but left them to make what use they pleased of my paper; and so went out and waited without all the morning, and at noon hear that there is something ordered towards our help, and so I away by coach home, taking up Mr. Prin at the Court-gate, it raining, and setting him down at the Temple: and by the way did ask him about the manner of holding of Parliaments, and whether the number of Knights and Burgesses were always the same? And he says that the latter were not; but that, for aught he can find, they were sent up at the discretion, at first, of the Sheriffes, to whom the writs are sent, to send up generally the Burgesses and citizens of their county: and he do find that heretofore the Parliament-men being paid by the country, several burroughs have complained of the Sheriffes putting them to the charge of sending up Burgesses; which is a very extraordinary thing to me, that knew not this, but thought that the number had been known, and always the same.3827 Thence home to the office, and so with my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, Williams, to Captain Cocke’s to dinner, where was Temple and Mr. Porter, and a very good dinner, and merry. Thence with Lord Brouncker to Whitehall to the Commissioners of the Treasury at their sending for us to discourse about the paying of tickets, and so away, and I by coach to the ’Change, and there took up my wife and Mercer and the girl by agreement, and so home, and there with Mercer to teach her more of “It is decreed,” and to sing other songs and talk all the evening, and so after supper I to even my journal since Saturday last, and so to bed. Yesterday Mr. Gibson, upon his discovering by my discourse to him that I had a willingness, or rather desire, to have him stay with me, than go, as he designed, on Sir W. Warren’s account, to sea, he resolved to let go the design and wait his fortune with me, though I laboured hard to make him understand the uncertainty of my condition or service, but however he will hazard it, which I take mighty kindly of him, though troubled lest he may come to be a loser by it, but it will not be for want of my telling him what he was to think on and expect. However, I am well pleased with it, with regard to myself, who find him mighty understanding and acquainted with all things in the Navy, that I should, if I continue in the Navy, make great use of him.
. Up, and to the office, having first been visited by my cousin Anthony Joyce about the £350 which he desires me to lend him, and which I have a mind enough to do, but would have it in my power to call it out again in a little time, and so do take a little further time to consider it. So to the office, where all the morning busy, and so home at noon to dinner with my people, where Mr. Hollier come and dined with me, and it is still mighty pleasant to hear him talk of Rome and the Pope, with what hearty zeal and hatred he talks against him. After dinner to the office again, where busy till night, very busy, and among other things wrote to my father about lending Anthony Joyce the money he desires; and I declare that I would do it as part of Pall’s portion, and that Pall should have the use of the money till she be married, but I do propose to him to think of Mr. Cumberland rather than this Jackson that he is upon; and I confess I have a mighty mind to have a relation so able a man, and honest, and so old an acquaintance as Mr. Cumberland. I shall hear his answer by the next [post]. At night home and to cards with my wife and girl, and to supper late, and so to bed.
. Up, and with Sir Denis Gawden, who called me, to Whitehall, and there to wait on the Duke of York with the rest of my brethren, which we did a little in the King’s Greenroom, while the King was in Council: and in this room we found my Lord Bristoll walking alone; which, wondering at, while the Council was sitting, I was answered that, as being a Catholic, he could not be of the Council, which I did not consider before. After broke up and walked a turn or two with Lord Brouncker talking about the times, and he tells me that he thinks, and so do everybody else, that the great business of putting out some of the Council to make room for some of the Parliament men to gratify and wheedle them is over, thinking that it might do more hurt than good, and not obtain much upon the Parliament either. This morning there was a Persian in that country dress, with a turban, waiting to kiss the King’s hand in the Vane-room, against he come out: it was a comely man as to features, and his dress, methinks, very comely. Thence in Sir W. Penn’s coach alone (he going with Sir D. Gawden) to my new bookseller’s, Martin’s; and there did meet with Fournier,3828 the Frenchman, that hath wrote of the Sea and Navigation, and I could not but buy him, and also bespoke an excellent book, which I met with there, of China.3829 The truth is, I have bought a great many books lately to a great value; but I think to buy no more till Christmas next, and those that I have will so fill my two presses that I must be forced to give away some to make room for them, it being my design to have no more at any time for my proper library than to fill them. Thence home and to the Exchange, there to do a little business, where I find everybody concerned whether we shall have out a fleet this next year or no, they talking of a peace concluded between France and Spain, so that the King of France will have nothing to do with his army unless he comes to us; but I do not see in the world how we shall be able to set out a fleet for want of money to buy stores and pay men, for neither of which we shall be any more trusted. So home to dinner, and then with my wife and Deb. to the King’s house, to see Aglaura, which hath been always mightily cried up; and so I went with mighty expectation, but do find nothing extraordinary in it at all, and but hardly good in any degree. So home, and thither comes to us W. Batelier and sat with us all the evening, and to cards and supper, passing the evening pretty pleasantly, and so late at night parted, and so to bed. I find him mightily troubled at the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury opposing him in the business he hath a patent for about the business of Impost on wine, but I do see that the Lords have reason for it, it being a matter wherein money might be saved to his Majesty, and I am satisfied that they do let nothing pass that may save money, and so God bless them! So he being gone we to bed. This day I received a letter from my father, and another from my cousin Roger Pepys, who have had a view of Jackson’s evidences of his estate, and do mightily like of the man, and his condition and estate, and do advise me to accept of the match for my sister, and to finish it as soon as I can; and he do it so as, I confess, I am contented to have it done, and so give her her portion; and so I shall be eased of one care how to provide for her, and do in many respects think that it may be a match proper enough to have her married there, and to one that may look after my concernments if my father should die and I continue where I am, and there[fore] I am well pleased with it, and so to bed.
. Lay some time, talking with my wife in bed about Pall’s business, and she do conclude to have her married here, and to be merry at it; and to have W. Hewer, and Batelier, and Mercer, and Willet bridemen and bridemaids, and to be very merry; and so I am glad of it, and do resolve to let it be done as soon as I can. So up, and to the office, where all the morning busy, and thence home to dinner, and from dinner with Mercer, who dined with us, and wife and Deb. to the King’s house, there to see The Wild-Goose Chase,3830 which I never saw, but have long longed to see it, being a famous play, but as it was yesterday I do find that where I expect most I find least satisfaction, for in this play I met with nothing extraordinary at all, but very dull inventions and designs. Knepp come and sat by us, and her talk pleased me a little, she telling me how Mis Davis3831 is for certain going away from the Duke’s house, the King being in love with her; and a house is taken for her, and furnishing; and she hath a ring given her already worth £600: that the King did send several times for Nelly, and she was with him, but what he did she knows not; this was a good while ago, and she says that the King first spoiled Mrs. Weaver,3832 which is very mean, methinks, in a prince, and I am sorry for it, and can hope for no good to the State from having a Prince so devoted to his pleasure. She told me also of a play shortly coming upon the stage, of Sir Charles Sidly’s, which, she thinks, will be called The Wandering Ladies,3833 a comedy that, she thinks, will be most pleasant; and also another play, called The Duke of Lerma;3834 besides Catelin, which she thinks, for want of the clothes which the King promised them, will not be acted for a good while. Thence home, and there to the office and did some business, and so with my wife for half an hour walking in the moonlight, and it being cold, frosty weather, walking in the garden, and then home to supper, and so by the fireside to have my head combed, as I do now often do, by Deb., whom I love should be fiddling about me, and so to bed.
. Up, and to dress myself, and then called into my wife’s chamber, and there she without any occasion fell to discourse of my father’s coming to live with us when my sister marries. This, she being afeard of declaring an absolute hatred to him since his falling out with her about Coleman’s being with her, she declares against his coming hither, which I not presently agreeing to, she declared, if he come, she would not live with me, but would shame me all over the city and court, which I made slight of, and so we fell very foul; and I do find she do keep very bad remembrances of my former unkindness to her, and do mightily complain of her want of money and liberty, which I will rather hear and bear the complaint of than grant the contrary, and so we had very hot work a great while: but at last I did declare as I intend, that my father shall not come, and that he do not desire and intend it; and so we parted with pretty good quiet, and so away, and being ready went to church, where first I saw Alderman Backewell and his lady come to our church, they living in Mark Lane; and I could find in my heart to invite her to sit with us, she being a fine lady. I come in while they were singing the 19th Psalm, while the sexton was gathering to his box, to which I did give 5s., and so after sermon home, my wife, Deb., and I all alone and very kind, full of good discourses, and after dinner I to my chamber, ordering my Tangier accounts to give to the Auditor in a day or two, which should have been long ago with him. At them to my great content all the afternoon till supper, and after supper with my wife, W. Hewer and Deb. pretty merry till 12 at night, and then to bed.
. Up, and Mr. Gibbs comes to me, and I give him instructions about the writing fair my Tangier accounts against tomorrow. So I abroad with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, and there did with the rest attend the Duke of York, where nothing extraordinary; only I perceive there is nothing yet declared for the next, year, what fleet shall be abroad. Thence homeward by coach and stopped at Martin’s, my bookseller, where I saw the French book which I did think to have had for my wife to translate, called L’escholle des filles,3835 but when I come to look in it, it is the most bawdy, lewd book that ever I saw, rather worse than Putana errante,3836 so that I was ashamed of reading in it, and so away home, and there to the ’Change to discourse with Sir H. Cholmly, and so home to dinner, and in the evening, having done some business, I with my wife and girl out, and left them at Unthanke’s, while I to Whitehall to the Treasury Chamber for an order for Tangier, and so back, took up my wife, and home, and there busy about my Tangier accounts against tomorrow, which I do get ready in good condition, and so with great content to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and after dinner with Mr. Clerke and Gibson to the Temple (my wife and girl going further by coach), and there at the Auditor’s did begin the examining my Tangier accounts, and did make a great entry into it and with great satisfaction, and I am glad I am so far eased. So appointing another day for further part of my accounts, I with Gibson to my bookseller, Martin, and there did receive my book I expected of China, a most excellent book with rare cuts; and there fell into discourse with him about the burning of Paul’s when the City was burned; his house being in the churchyard. And he tells me that it took fire first upon the end of a board that, among others, was laid upon the roof instead of lead, the lead being broke off, and thence down lower and lower: but that the burning of the goods under St. Fayth’s arose from the goods taking fire in the churchyard, and so got into St. Fayth’s Church; and that they first took fire from the Draper’s side, by some timber of the houses that were burned falling into the church. He says that one warehouse of books was saved under Paul’s; and he says that there were several dogs found burned among the goods in the churchyard, and but one man, which was an old man, that said he would go and save a blanket which he had in the church, and, being a weak old man, the fire overcome him, and was burned. He says that most of the booksellers do design to fall a-building again the next year; but he says that the Bishop of London3837 do use them most basely, worse than any other landlords, and says he will be paid to this day the rent, or else he will not come to treat with them for the time to come; and will not, on that condition either, promise them anything how he will use them; and, the Parliament sitting, he claims his privilege, and will not be cited before the Lord Chief justice, as others are there, to be forced to a fair dealing.3838 Thence by coach to Mrs. Pierce’s, where my wife and Deb. is; and there they fell to discourse of the last night’s work at Court, where the ladies and Duke of Monmouth and others acted The Indian Emperour; wherein they told me these things most remarkable: that not any woman but the Duchess of Monmouth and Mrs. Cornwallis3839 did anything but like fools and stocks, but that these two did do most extraordinary well: that not any man did anything well but Captain O’Bryan,3840 who spoke and did well, but, above all things, did dance most incomparably. That she did sit near the players of the Duke’s house; among the rest, Mis Davis, who is the most impertinent slut, she says, in the world; and the more, now the King do show her countenance; and is reckoned his mistress, even to the scorne of the whole world; the King gazing on her, and my Lady Castlemayne being melancholy and out of humour, all the play, not smiling once. The King, it seems, hath given her a ring of £700, which she shows to everybody, and owns that the King did give it her; and he hath furnished a house for her in Suffolk Street most richly, which is a most infinite shame.3841 It seems she is a bastard of Colonel Howard, my Lord Berkshire, and that he do pimp to her for the King, and hath got her for him; but Pierce says that she is a most homely jade as ever she saw, though she dances beyond anything in the world. She tells me that the Duchess of Richmond do not yet come to the Court, nor hath seen the King, nor will not, nor do he own his desire of seeing her; but hath used means to get her to Court, but they do not take. Thence home, and there I to my chamber, having a great many books brought me home from my bookbinder’s, and so I to the new setting of my books against the next year, which costs me more trouble than I expected, and at it till two o’clock in the morning, and then to bed, the business not being yet done to my mind. This evening come Mr. Mills and his wife to see and sit and talk with us, which they did till 9 o’clock at night, and then parted, and I to my books.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then to the Office again, where we met about some business of D. Gawden’s till candlelight; and then, as late as it was, I down to Redriffe, and so walked by moonlight to Deptford, where I have not been a great while, and my business I did there was only to walk up and down above la casa of Bagwell, but could not see her, it being my intent to have spent a little time con her, she being newly come from her husband; but I did lose my labour, and so walked back again, but with pleasure by the walk, and I had the sport to see two boys swear, and stamp, and fret, for not being able to get their horse over a stile and ditch, one of them swearing and cursing most bitterly; and I would fain, in revenge, have persuaded him to have drove his horse through the ditch, by which I believe he would have stuck there. But the horse would not be drove, and so they were forced to go back again, and so I walked away homeward, and there reading all the evening, and so to bed. This afternoon my Lord Anglesey tells us that it is voted in Council to have a fleet of 50 ships out; but it is only a disguise for the Parliament to get some money by; but it will not take, I believe, and if it did, I do not think it will be such as he will get any of, nor such as will enable us to set out such a fleet.
. Up, after talking with my wife with pleasure, about her learning on the flageolet a month or two again this winter, and all the rest of the year her painting, which I do love, and so to the office, where sat all the morning, and here Lord Anglesey tells us again that a fleet is to be set out; and that it is generally, he hears, said, that it is but a Spanish rhodomontado; and that he saying so just now to the Duke of Albemarle, who come to town last night, after the thing was ordered, he told him a story of two seamen: one wished all the guns of the ship were his, and that they were silver; and says the other, “You are a fool, for, if you can have it for wishing, why do you not wish them gold?”—“So,” says he, “if a rhodomontado will do any good, why do you not say 100 ships?” And it is true; for the Dutch and French are said to make such preparations as 50 sail will do no good. At noon home to dinner with my gang of clerks, in whose society I am mightily pleased, and mightily with Mr. Gibson’s talking;3842 he telling me so many good stories relating to the war and practices of commanders, which I will find a time to recollect; and he will be an admirable help to my writing a history of the Navy, if ever I do. So to the office, where busy all the afternoon and evening, and then home. My work this night with my clerks till midnight at the office was to examine my list of ships I am making for myself and their dimensions, and to see how it agrees or differs from other lists, and I do find so great a difference between them all that I am at a loss which to take, and therefore think mine to be as much depended upon as any I can make out of them all. So little care there has been to this day to know or keep any history of the Navy.
. Up, and by coach to Whitehall to attend the Council there, and here I met first by Mr. Castle the shipwright, whom I met there, and then from the whole house the discourse of the duell yesterday between the Duke of Buckingham, Holmes,3843 and one Jenkins,3844 on one side, and my Lord of Shrewsbury,3845 Sir John Talbot,3846 and one Bernard Howard,3847 on the other side:3848 and all about my Lady Shrewsbury,3849 who is a whore, and is at this time, and hath for a great while been, a whore to the Duke of Buckingham. And so her husband challenged him, and they met yesterday in a close near Barne-Elmes, and there fought: and my Lord Shrewsbury is run through the body, from the right breast through the shoulder: and Sir John Talbot all along up one of his armes; and Jenkins killed upon the place, and the rest all, in a little measure, wounded. This will make the world think that the King hath good councillors about him, when the Duke of Buckingham, the greatest man about him, is a fellow of no more sobriety than to fight about a whore. And this may prove a very bad accident to the Duke of Buckingham, but that my Lady Castlemayne do rule all at this time as much as ever she did, and she will, it is believed, keep all matters well with the Duke of Buckingham: though this is a time that the King will be very backward, I suppose, to appear in such a business. And it is pretty to hear how the King had some notice of this challenge a week or two ago, and did give it to my Lord General3850 to confine the Duke, or take security that he should not do any such thing as fight: and the General trusted to the King that he, sending for him, would do it, and the King trusted to the General; and so, between both, as everything else of the greatest moment do, do fall between two stools. The whole House full of nothing but the talk of this business; and it is said that my Lord Shrewsbury’s case is to be feared, that he may die too; and that may make it much the worse for the Duke of Buckingham: and I shall not be much sorry for it, that we may have some sober man come in his room to assist in the Government. Here I waited till the Council rose, and talked the while, with Creed, who tells me of Mr. Harry Howard’s3851 giving the Royal Society a piece of ground next to his house, to build a College on, which is a most generous act. And he tells me he is a very fine person, and understands and speaks well; and no rigid Papist neither, but one that would not have a Protestant servant leave his religion, which he was going to do, thinking to recommend himself to his master by it; saying that he had rather have an honest Protestant than a knavish Catholic. I was not called into the Council; and, therefore, home, first informing myself that my Lord Hinchingbroke hath been married this week to my Lord Burlington’s daughter; so that that great business is over; and I mighty glad of it, though I am not satisfied that I have not a Favour3852 sent me, as I see Attorney Montagu and the Vice-Chamberlain have. But I am mighty glad that the thing is done. So home, and there alone with my wife and Deb. to dinner, and after dinner comes Betty Turner, and I carried them to the New Exchange, and thence I to Whitehall and did a little business at the Treasury, and so called them there, and so home and to cards and supper, and her mother come and sat at cards with us till past 12 at night, and then broke up and to bed, after entering my journal, which made it one before I went to bed.
. At the office all the morning busy sitting. At noon home to dinner, where Betty Turner dined with us, and after dinner carried my wife, her and Deb. to the ’Change, where they bought some things, while I bought The Maiden Queen, a play newly printed, which I like at the King’s house so well, of Mr. Dryden’s, which he himself, in his preface, seems to brag of, and indeed is a good play. So home again, and I late at the office and did much business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. My wife the last night very ill of those, and waked me early, and hereupon I up and to church, where a dull sermon by our lecturer, and so home to dinner in my wife’s chamber, which she is a little better. Then after dinner with Captain Perryman down to Redriffe, and so walked to Deptford, where I sent for Mr. Shish out of the Church to advise about my vessel, The Maybolt, and I do resolve to sell, presently, for anything rather than keep her longer, having already lost £100 in her value, which I was once offered and refused, and the ship left without anybody to look to her, which vexes me. Thence Perryman3853 and I back again, talking of the great miscarriages in the Navy, and among the principal that of having gentlemen commanders. I shall hereafter make use of his and others’ help to reckon up and put down in writing what is fit to be mended in the Navy after all our sad experience therein. So home, and there sat with my wife all the evening, and Mr. Pelling awhile talking with us, who tells me that my Lord Shrewsbury is likely to do well, after his great wound in the late duell. He gone, comes W. Hewer and supped with me, and so to talk of things, and he tells me that Mr. Jessop is made Secretary to the Commissions of Parliament for Accounts, and I am glad, and it is pretty to see that all the Cavalier party were not able to find the Parliament nine Commissioners, or one Secretary, fit for the business. So he gone, I to read a little in my chamber, and so to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office very busy, and at noon by coach to Westminster, to the ’Chequer, about a warrant for Tangier money. In my way both coming and going I did stop at Drumbleby’s, the pipe-maker, there to advise about the making of a flageolet to go low and soft; and he do show me a way which do do, and also a fashion of having two pipes of the same note fastened together, so as I can play on one, and then echo it upon the other, which is mighty pretty. So to my Lord Crew’s to dinner, where we hear all the good news of our making a league now with Holland against the French power coming over them, or us which is the first good act that hath been done a great while, and done secretly, and with great seeming wisdom; and is certainly good for us at this time, while we are in no condition to resist the French, if they should come over hither; and then a little time of peace will give us time to lay up something, which these Commissioners of the Treasury are doing; and the world do begin to see that they will do the King’s work for him, if he will let them. Here dined Mr. Case, the minister, who, Lord! do talk just as I remember he used to preach, and did tell a pretty story of a religious lady, Queen of Navarre;3854 and my Lord also told a good story of Mr. Newman,3855 the Minister in New England, who wrote the Concordance, of his foretelling his death and preaching a funeral sermon, and did at last bid the angels do their office, and died. It seems there is great presumption that there will be a Toleration granted: so that the Presbyterians do hold up their heads; but they will hardly trust the King or the Parliament what to yield them, though most of the sober party be for some kind of allowance to be given them. Thence and home, and then to the ’Change in the evening, and there Mr. Cade told me how my Lord Gerard is likely to meet with trouble, the next sitting of Parliament, about [Carr] being set in the pillory; and I am glad of it; and it is mighty acceptable to the world to hear, that, among other reductions, the King do reduce his Guards,3856 which do please mightily. So to my bookbinder’s with my boy, and there did stay late to see two or three things done that I had a mind to see done, and among others my Tangier papers of accounts, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and while at the office comes news from Kate Joyce that if I would see her husband alive, I must come presently. So, after the office was up, I to him, and W. Hewer with me, and find him in his sick bed (I never was at their house, this Inne, before) very sensible in discourse and thankful for my kindness to him, and his breath rattled in his throate, and they did lay pigeons to his feet while I was in the house, and all despair of him, and with good reason. But the story is that it seems on Thursday last he went sober and quiet out of doors in the morning to Islington, and behind one of the inns, the White Lion, did fling himself into a pond, was spied by a poor woman and got out by some people binding up hay in a barn there, and set on his head3857 and got to life, and known by a woman coming that way; and so his wife and friends sent for. He confessed his doing the thing, being led by the Devil; and do declare his reason to be, his trouble that he found in having forgot to serve God as he ought, since he come to this new employment:3858 and I believe that, and the sense of his great loss by the fire, did bring him to it, and so everybody concludes. He stayed there all that night, and come home by coach next morning, and there grew sick, and worse and worse to this day. I stayed awhile among the friends that were there, and they being now in fear that the goods and estate would be seized on, though he lived all this while, because of his endeavouring to drown himself, my cousin did endeavour to remove what she could of plate out of the house, and desired me to take my flagons; which I was glad of, and did take them away with me in great fear all the way of being seized; though there was no reason for it, he not being dead, but yet so fearful I was. So home, and there eat my dinner, and busy all the afternoon, and troubled at this business. In the evening with Sir D. Gawden, to Guild Hall, to advise with the Town-Clerke about the practice of the City and nation in this case: and he thinks that it cannot be found self-murder; but if it be, it will fall, all the estate, to the King. So we parted, and I to my cousin’s again; where I no sooner come but news was brought down from his chamber that he was departed. So, at their entreaty, I presently took coach to Whitehall, and there find Sir W. Coventry; and he carried me to the King, the Duke of York being with him, and there told my story which I had told him:3859 and the King, without more ado, granted that, if it was found, the estate should be to the widow and children. I presently to each Secretary’s office, and there left caveats, and so away back again to my cousin’s, leaving a chimney on fire at Whitehall, in the King’s closet; but no danger. And so, when I come thither, I find her all in sorrow, but she and the rest mightily pleased with my doing this for them; and, indeed, it was a very great courtesy, for people are looking out for the estate, and the coroner will be sent to, and a jury called to examine his death. This being well done to my and their great joy, I home, and there to my office, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, mightily busy all the morning at the office. At noon with Lord Brouncker to Sir D. Gawden’s, at the Victualling-Office, to dinner, where I have not dined since he was Sheriff. He expected us; and a good dinner, and much good company; and a fine house, and especially two rooms, very fine, he hath built there. His lady a good lady; but my Lord led himself and me to a great absurdity in kissing all the ladies, but the finest of all the company, leaving her out, I know not how; and I was loath to do it, since he omitted it. Here little Chaplin3860 dined, who is like to be Sheriff the next year; and a pretty humoured little man he is. I met here with Mr. Talents, the younger, of Magdalene College, Chaplain here to the Sheriff; which I was glad to see, though not much acquainted with him. This day come the first demand from the Commissioners of Accounts to us, and it contains more than we shall ever be able to answer while we live, and I do foresee we shall be put to much trouble and some shame, at least some of us. Thence stole away after dinner to my cousin Kate’s, and there find the Crowner’s jury sitting, but they could not end it, but put off the business to Shrove Tuesday next, and so do give way to the burying of him, and that is all; but they all incline to find it a natural death, though there are mighty busy people to have it go otherwise, thinking to get his estate, but are mistaken. Thence, after sitting with her and company a while, comforting her: though I can find she can, as all other women, cry, and yet talk of other things all in a breath. So home, and thereto cards with my wife, Deb., and Betty Turner, and Batelier, and after supper late to sing. But, Lord! how did I please myself to make Betty Turner sing, to see what a beast she is as to singing, not knowing how to sing one note in tune; but, only for the experiment, I would not for 40s. hear her sing a tune: worse than my wife a thousand times, so that it do a little reconcile me to her. So late to bed.
. At the Office all the morning; and at noon find the Bishop of Lincolne3861 come to dine with us; and after him comes Mr. Brisband; and there mighty good company. But the Bishop a very extraordinary good-natured man, and one that is mightily pleased, as well as I am, that I live so near Bugden,3862 the seat of his bishopricke, where he is like to reside: and, indeed, I am glad of it. In discourse, we think ourselves safe for this year, by this league with Holland, which pleases everybody, and, they say, vexes France; insomuch that D’Estrades,3863 the French Embassador in Holland, when he heard it, told the States that he would have them not forget that his master is at the head of 100,000 men, and is but 28 years old; which was a great speech. The Bishop tells me he thinks that the great business of Toleration will not, notwithstanding this talk, be carried this Parliament; nor for the King’s taking away the Deans’ and Chapters’ lands to supply his wants, they signifying little to him, if he had them, for his present service. He gone, I mightily pleased with his kindness, I to the office, where busy till night, and then to Mrs. Turner’s, where my wife, and Deb., and I, and Batelier spent the night, and supped, and played at cards, and very merry, and so I home to bed. She is either a very prodigal woman, or richer than she would be thought, by her buying of the best things, and laying out much money in new-fashioned pewter; and, among other things, a new-fashioned case for a pair of snuffers, which is very pretty; but I could never have guessed what it was for, had I not seen the snuffers in it.
. Up before day to my Tangier accounts, and then out and to a Committee of Tangier, where little done but discourse about reduction of the charge of the garrison, and thence to Westminster about orders at the Exchequer, and at the Swan I drank, and there met with a pretty ingenious young Doctor of physic, by chance, and talked with him, and so home to dinner, and after dinner carried my wife to the Temple, and thence she to a play, and I to St. Andrew’s church, in Holburne, at the ’Quest House, where the company meets to the burial of my cousin Joyce; and here I stayed with a very great rabble of four or five hundred people of mean condition, and I stayed in the room with the kindred till ready to go to church, where there is to be a sermon of Dr. Stillingfleete,3864 and thence they carried him to St. Sepulchre’s. But it being late, and, indeed, not having a black cloak to lead her [Kate Joyce] with, or follow the corpse, I away, and saw, indeed, a very great press of people follow the corpse. I to the King’s playhouse, to fetch my wife, and there saw the best part of The Maiden Queen, which, the more I see, the more I love, and think one of the best plays I ever saw, and is certainly the best acted of anything ever the House did, and particularly Becke Marshall, to admiration. Found my wife and Deb., and saw many fine ladies, and sat by Colonel Reames, who understands and loves a play as well as I, and I love him for it. And so thence home; and, after being at the Office, I home to supper, and to bed, my eyes being very bad again with overworking with them.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning, and then at noon to the ’Change with Mr. Hater, and there he and I to a tavern to meet Captain Minors, which we did, and dined; and there happened to be Mr. Prichard, a ropemaker of his acquaintance, and whom I know also, and did once mistake for a fiddler, which sung well, and I asked him for such a song that I had heard him sing, and after dinner did fall to discourse about the business of the old contract between the King and the East India Company for the ships of the King that went thither, and about this did beat my brains all the afternoon, and then home and made an end of the accounts to my great content, and so late home tired and my eyes sore, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with my wife to Church, and at noon home to dinner. No strangers there; and all the afternoon and evening very late doing serious business of my Tangier accounts, and examining my East India accounts, with Mr. Poynter, whom I employed all this day, to transcribe it fair; and so to supper, W. Hewer with us, and so the girl to comb my head till I slept, and then to bed.
. It being weather like the beginning of a frost and the ground dry, I walked as far as the Temple, and there took coach and to Whitehall, but the Committee not being met I to Westminster, and there I do hear of the letter that is in the pamphlet this day of the King of France, declaring his design to go on against Flanders, and the grounds of it, which do set us mightily at rest. So to Whitehall, and there a committee of Tangier, but little done there, only I did get two or three little jobs done to the perfecting two or three papers about my Tangier accounts. Here Mr. Povy do tell me how he is like to lose his £400 a-year pension of the Duke of York, which he took in consideration of his place which was taken from him. He tells me the Duchess is a devil against him, and do now come like Queen Elizabeth, and sits with the Duke of York’s Council, and sees what they do; and she crosses out this man’s wages and prices, as she sees fit, for saving money; but yet, he tells me, she reserves £5,000 a-year for her own spending; and my Lady Peterborough, by and by, tells me that the Duchess do lay up, mightily, jewels. Thence to my Lady Peterborough’s, she desiring to speak with me. She loves to be taken dressing herself, as I always find her; and there, after a little talk, to please her, about her husband’s pension, which I do not think he will ever get again, I away thence home, and all the afternoon mighty busy at the office, and late, preparing a letter to the Commissioners of Accounts, our first letter to them, and so home to supper, where Betty Turner3865 was (whose brother Frank did set out toward the East Indies this day, his father and mother gone down with him to Gravesend), and there was her little brother Moses, whom I examined, and he is a pretty good scholar for a child, and so after supper to talk and laugh, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and there with W. Griffin talking about getting the place to build a coach-house, or to hire one, which I now do resolve to have, and do now declare it; for it is plainly for my benefit for saving money. By and by the office sat, and there we concluded on our letter to the Commissioners of Accounts and to the several officers of ours about the work they are to do to answer their late great demands. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner set my wife and girl down at the Exchange, and I to Whitehall; and, by and by, the Duke of York comes, and we had a little meeting, Anglesey, W. Penn, and I there, and none else: and, among other things, did discourse of the want of discipline in the fleet, which the Duke of York confessed, and yet said that he, while he was there, did keep it in a good measure, but that it was now lost when he was absent; but he will endeavour to have it again. That he did tell the Prince and Duke of Albemarle they would lose all order by making such and such men commanders, which they would, because they were stout men: he told them that it was a reproach to the nation, as if there were no sober men among us, that were stout, to be had. That they did put out some men for cowards that the Duke of York had put in, but little before, for stout men; and would now, were he to go to sea again, entertain them in his own division, to choose: and did put in an idle fellow, Greene, who was hardly thought fit for a boatswain by him: they did put him from being a lieutenant to a captain’s place of a second-rate ship; as idle a drunken fellow, he said, as any was in the fleet. That he will now desire the King to let him be what he is, that is, Admiral; and he will put in none but those that he hath great reason to think well of; and particularly says, that; though he likes Colonel Legge well, yet his son3866 that was, he knows not how, made a captain after he had been but one voyage at sea, he should go to sea another apprenticeship, before ever he gives him a command. We did tell him of the many defects and disorders among the captains, and I prayed we might do it in writing to him, which he liked; and I am glad of an opportunity of doing it. Thence away, and took up wife and girl, and home, and to the office, busy late, and so to supper and to bed. My wife this day hears from her father and mother: they are in France, at Paris; he, poor good man! I think he is, gives her good counsel still, which I always observed of him, and thankful for my small charities to him. I could be willing to do something for them, were I sure not to bring them over again hither. Coming home, my wife and I went and saw Kate Joyce, who is still in mighty sorrow, and the more from something that Dr. Stillingfleete should simply say in his sermon, of her husband’s manner of dying, as killing himself.
. Up betimes, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry, whom I found in his chamber, and there stayed an hour and talked with him about several things of the Navy, and our want of money, which they indeed do supply us with a little, but in no degree likely to enable us to go on with the King’s service. He is at a stand where to have more, and is in mighty pain for it, declaring that he believes there never was a kingdom so governed as this was in the time of the late Chancellor and the Treasurer, nobody minding or understanding anything how things went or what the King had in his Treasury, or was to have, nothing in the world of it minded. He tells me that there are still people desirous to overthrow him; he resolving to stick at nothing nor no person that stands in his way against bringing the King out of debt, be it to retrench any man’s place or profit, and that he cares not, for rather than be employed under the King, and have the King continue in this condition of indigence, he desires to be put out from among them, thinking it no honour to be a minister in such a government. He tells me he hath no friends in the whole Court but my Lord Keeper and Sir John Duncomb. He tells me they have reduced the charges of Ireland above £70,000 a-year, and thereby cut off good profits from my Lord Lieutenant; which will make a new enemy, but he cares not. He tells me that Townsend, of the Wardrobe, is the veriest knave and bufflehead that ever he saw in his life, and wonders how my Lord Sandwich come to trust such a fellow, and that now Reames and ⸻ are put in to be overseers there, and do great things, and have already saved a great deal of money in the King’s liveries, and buy linen so cheap, that he will have them buy the next cloth he hath, for shirts. But then this is with ready money, which answers all. He do not approve of my letter I drew and the office signed yesterday to the Commissioners of Accounts, saying that it is a little too submissive, and grants a little too much and too soon our bad managements, though we lay on want of money, yet that it will be time enough to plead it when they object it. Which was the opinion of my Lord Anglesey also; so I was ready to alter it, and did so presently, going from him home, and there transcribed it fresh as he would have it, and got it signed, and to Whitehall presently and showed it him, and so home, and there to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon and till 12 o’clock at night with Mr. Gibson at home upon my Tangier accounts, and did end them fit to be given the last of them to the Auditor tomorrow, to my great content. This evening come Betty Turner and the two Mercers, and W. Batelier, and they had fiddlers, and danced, and kept a quarter3867 which pleased me, though it disturbed me; but I could not be with them at all. Mr. Gibson lay at my house all night, it was so late.
. Up, it being fast day for the King’s death, and so I and Mr. Gibson by water to the Temple, and there all the morning with Auditor Wood, and I did deliver in the whole of my accounts and run them over in three hours with full satisfaction, and so with great content thence, he and I, and our clerks, and Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, to a little ordinary in Hercules-pillars Ally3868—the Crown, a poor, sorry place, where a fellow, in twelve years, hath gained an estate of, as he says, £600 a-year, which is very strange, and there dined, and had a good dinner, and very good discourse between them, old men belonging to the law, and here I first heard that my cousin Pepys, of Salisbury Court, was Marshal to my Lord Cooke when he was Lord Chief justice; which beginning of his I did not know to be so low: but so it was, it seems. After dinner I home, calling at my bookbinder’s, but he not within. When come home, I find Kate Joyce hath been there, with sad news that her house stands not in the King’s liberty, but the Dean of Paul’s; and so, if her estate be forfeited, it will not be in the King’s power to do her any good. So I took coach and to her, and there found her in trouble, as I cannot blame her. But I do believe this arises from somebody that hath a mind to fright her into a composition for her estate, which I advise her against; and, indeed, I do desire heartily to be able to do her service, she being, methinks, a piece of care I ought to take upon me, for our fathers’ and friends’ sake, she being left alone, and no friend so near as me, or so able to help her. After having given her my advice, I home, and there to my office and did business, and hear how the Committee for Accounts are mighty active and likely to examine everything, but let them do their worst. I am to be before them with our contract books tomorrow. So home from the office, to supper, and to bed.
. Up; and by coach, with W. Griffin with me, and our Contract-books, to Durham Yard,3869 to the Commissioners for Accounts; the first time I ever was there; and stayed awhile before I was admitted to them. I did observe a great many people attending about complaints of seamen concerning tickets, and, among others, Mr. Carcasse, and Mr. Martin, my purser. And I observe a fellow, one Collins, is there, who is employed by these Commissioners particularly to hold an office in Bishopsgate Street, or somewhere thereabouts, to receive complaints of all people about tickets: and I believe he will have work enough. Presently I was called in, where I found the whole number of Commissioners, and was there received with great respect and kindness; and did give them great satisfaction, making it my endeavour to inform them what it was they were to expect from me, and what was the duty of other people; this being my only way to preserve myself, after all my pains and trouble. They did ask many questions, and demanded other books of me, which I did give them very ready and acceptable answers to; and, upon the whole, I observe they do go about their business like men resolved to go through with it, and in a very good method; like men of understanding. They have Mr. Jessop, their secretary: and it is pretty to see that they are fain to find out an old-fashioned man of Cromwell’s to do their business for them, as well as the Parliament to pitch upon such, for the most part, in the list of people that were brought into the House, for Commissioners. I went away, with giving and receiving great satisfaction; and so away to Whitehall to the Commissioners of the Treasury; where, waiting some time, I there met with Colonel Birch; and he and I fell into discourse; and I did give him thanks for his kindness to me in the Parliament-house, both before my face and behind my back. He told me that he knew me to be a man of the old way for taking pains, and did always endeavour to do me right, and prevent anything that was moved that might tend to my injury; which I was obliged to him for, and thanked him. Thence to talk of other things, and the want of money and he told me of the general want of money in the country; that land sold for nothing, and the many pennyworths he knows of lands and houses upon them, with good titles in his country, at 16 years’ purchase: “and,” says he, “though I am in debt, yet I have a mind to one thing, and that is a Bishop’s lease;” but said, “I will yet choose such a lease before any other, yes,” says he, plainly, “because I know they cannot stand, and then it will fall into the King’s hands, and I in possession shall have an advantage by it.” “And,” says he, “I know they must fall, and they are now near it, taking all the ways they can to undo themselves, and showing us the way;” and thereupon told the a story of the present quarrel between the Bishop3870 and Deane3871 of Coventry and Lichfield; the former of which did excommunicate the latter, and caused his excommunication to be read in the Church while he was there; and, after it was read, the Deane made the service be gone through with, though himself, an excommunicate, was present, which is contrary to the Canon, and said he would justify the choir therein against the Bishop; and so they are at law in the Arches3872 about it; which is a very pretty story.3873 He tells me that the King is for Toleration, though the Bishops be against it: and that he do not doubt but it will be carried in Parliament; but that he fears some will stand for the tolerating of Papists with the rest; and that he knows not what to say, but rather thinks that the sober party will be without it, rather than have it upon those terms; and I do believe so. Here we broke off, and I home to dinner, and after dinner set down my wife and Deb. at the ’Change, and I to make a visit to Mr. Godolphin3874 at his lodgings, who is lately come from Spain from my Lord Sandwich, and did, the other day, meeting me in Whitehall, compliment me mightily, and so I did offer him this visit, but missed him, and so back and took up my wife and set her at Mrs. Turner’s, and I to my bookbinder’s, and there, till late at night, binding up my second part of my Tangier accounts, and I all the while observing his working, and his manner of gilding of books with great pleasure, and so home, and there busy late, and then to bed. This day Griffin did, in discourse in the coach, put me in the head of the little house by our garden, where old goodman Taylor puts his brooms and dirt, to make me a stable of, which I shall improve, so as, I think, to be able to get me a stable without much charge, which do please me mightily. He did also in discourse tell me that it is observed, and is true, in the late fire of London, that the fire burned just as many Parish-Churches as there were hours from the beginning to the end of the fire; and, next, that there were just as many Churches left standing as there were taverns left standing in the rest of the City that was not burned, being, I think he told me, thirteen in all of each: which is pretty to observe.
February 1667–68
. Up, and to the office pretty betimes, and the Board not meeting as soon as I wished, I was forced to go to Whitehall in expectation of a Committee for Tangier, but when I come it was put off, and so home again to the office, and sat till past two o’clock; where at the Board some high words passed between Sir W. Penn and I, begun by me, and yielded to by him, I being in the right in finding fault with him for his neglect of duty. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner out with my wife, thinking to have gone to the Duke of York’s playhouse, but was, to my great content in the saving my vow, hindered by coming a little too late; and so, it being a fine day, we out to Islington, and there to the old house and eat cheesecakes and drank and talked, and so home in the evening, the ways being mighty bad, so as we had no pleasure in being abroad at all almost, but only the variety of it, and so to the office, where busy late, and then home to supper and to bed, my head mighty full of business now on my hands: viz., of finishing my Tangier Accounts; of auditing my last year’s Accounts; of preparing answers to the Commissioners of Accounts; of drawing up several important letters to the Duke of York and the Commissioners of the Treasury; the marrying of my sister; the building of a coach and stables against summer, and the setting many things in the Office right; and the drawing up a new form of Contract with the Victualler of the Navy, and several other things, which pains, however, will go through with, among others the taking care of Kate Joyce in that now she is in at present for saving her estate.
. Wife took physick this day, I all day at home, and all the morning setting my books in order in my presses, for the following year, their number being much increased since the last, so as I am fain to lay by several books to make room for better, being resolved to keep no more than just my presses will contain. At noon to dinner, my wife coming down to me, and a very good dinner we had, of a powdered leg of pork and a loin of lamb roasted, and with much content she and I and Deb. After dinner, my head combed an hour, and then to work again, and at it, doing many things towards the setting my accounts and papers in order, and so in the evening Mr. Pelling supping with us, and to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where with my clerks all the morning very busy about several things there wherein I was behindhand. At noon home to dinner, and thence after dinner to the Duke of York’s house, to the play, The Tempest, which we have often seen, but yet I was pleased again, and shall be again to see it, it is so full of variety, and particularly this day I took pleasure to learn the tune of the seaman’s dance, which I have much desired to be perfect in, and have made myself so. So home with my wife and Deb., and there at the office met to my trouble with a warrant from the Commissioners of Accounts for my attending them and Cocke two days hence, which I apprehend by Captain Cocke’s being to go also, to be about the prizes. But, however, there is nothing of crime can be laid to my charge, and the worst that can be is to refund my £500 profit, and who can help it. So I resolve not to be troubled at it, though I fear I cannot bear it so, my spirit being very poor and mean as to the bearing with trouble that I do find of myself. So home, and there to my chamber and did some business—and thence to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where a full Board sat all the morning, busy among other things concerning a solemn letter we intend to write to the Duke of York about the state of the things of the Navy, for want of money, though I doubt it will be to little purpose. After dinner I abroad by coach to Kate Joyce’s, where the jury did sit where they did before, about her husband’s death, and their verdict put off for fourteen days longer, at the suit of somebody, under pretence of the King; but it is only to get money out of her to compound the matter. But the truth is, something they will make out of Stillingfleete’s sermon, which may trouble us, he declaring, like a fool, in his pulpit, that he did confess that his losses in the world did make him do what he did. This do vex me to see how foolish our Protestant Divines are, while the Papists do make it the duty of Confessor to be secret, or else nobody would confess their sins to them. All being put off for today, I took my leave of Kate, who is mightily troubled at it for her estate sake, not for her husband; for her sorrow for that, I perceive, is all over. I home, and, there to my office busy till the evening, and then home, and there my wife and Deb. and I and Betty Turner, I employed in the putting new titles to my books, which we proceeded on till midnight, and then being weary and late to bed.
. Up, and I to Captain Cocke’s, where he and I did discourse of our business that we are to go about to the Commissioners of Accounts about our prizes, and having resolved to conceal nothing but to confess the truth, the truth being likely to do us most good, we parted, and I to Whitehall, where missing of the Commissioners of the Treasury, I to the Commissioners of Accounts, where I was forced to stay two hours before I was called in, and when come in did take an oath to declare the truth to what they should ask me, which is a great power; I doubt more than the Act do, or as some say can, give them, to force a man to swear against himself; and so they fell to enquire about the business of prize-goods, wherein I did answer them as well as I could, answer them in everything the just truth, keeping myself to that. I do perceive at last, that, that they did lay most like a fault to me was, that I did buy goods upon my Lord Sandwich’s declaring that it was with the King’s allowance, and my believing it, without seeing the King’s allowance, which is a thing I will own, and doubt not to justify myself in. That that vexed me most was, their having some watermen by, to witness my saying that they were rogues that they had betrayed my goods, which was upon some discontent with one of the watermen that I employed at Greenwich, who I did think did discover the goods sent from Rochester to the Customhouse officer; but this can do me no great harm. They were inquisitive into the minutest particulars, and the evening great information; but I think that they can do me no hurt, at the worst, more than to make me refund, if it must be known, what profit I did make of my agreement with Captain Cocke; and yet, though this be all, I do find so poor a spirit within me, that it makes me almost out of my wits, and puts me to so much pain, that I cannot think of anything, nor do anything but vex and fret, and imagine myself undone, so that I am ashamed of myself to myself, and do fear what would become of me if any real affliction should come upon me. After they had done with me, they called in Captain Cocke, with whom they were shorter; and I do fear he may answer foolishly, for he did speak to me foolishly before he went in; but I hope to preserve myself, and let him shift for himself as well as he can. So I away, walked to my flageolet maker in the Strand, and there stayed for Captain Cocke, who took me up and carried me home, and there coming home and finding dinner done, and Mr. Cooke, who come for my Lady Sandwich’s plate,3875 which I must part with, and so endanger the losing of my money, which I lent upon my thoughts of securing myself by that plate. But it is no great sum—but £60: and if it must be lost, better that, than a greater sum. I away back again, to find a dinner anywhere else, and so I, first, to the Ship Tavern, thereby to get a sight of the pretty mistress of the house, with whom I am not yet acquainted at all, and I do always find her scolding, and do believe she is an ill-natured devil, that I have no great desire to speak to her. Here I drank, and away by coach to the Strand, there to find out Mr. Moore, and did find him at the Bell Inn, and there acquainted him with what passed between me and the Commissioners today about the prize goods, in order to the considering what to do about my Lord Sandwich, and did conclude to own the thing to them as done by the King’s allowance, and since confirmed. Thence to other discourse, among others, he mightily commends my Lord Hinchingbroke’s match and Lady, though he buys her £10,000 dear, by the jointure and settlement his father makes her; and says that the Duke of York and Duchess of York did come to see them in bed together, on their wedding-night, and how my Lord had fifty pieces of gold taken out of his pocket that night, after he was in bed. He tells me that an Act of Comprehension is likely to pass this Parliament, for admitting of all persuasions in religion to the public observation of their particular worship, but in certain places, and the persons therein concerned to be listed of this, or that Church; which, it is thought, will do them more hurt than good, and make them not own their persuasion. He tells me that there is a pardon passed to the Duke of Buckingham, my Lord of Shrewsbury, and the rest, for the late duell and murder;3876 which he thinks a worse fault than any ill use my late Lord Chancellor ever put the Great Seal to, and will be so thought by the Parliament, for them to be pardoned without bringing them to any trial: and that my Lord Privy-Seal therefore would not have it pass his hand, but made it go by immediate warrant; or at least they knew that he would not pass it, and so did direct it to go by immediate warrant, that it might not come to him. He tells me what a character my Lord Sandwich hath sent over of Mr. Godolphin, as the worthiest man, and such a friend to him as he may be trusted in anything relating to him in the world; as one whom, he says, he hath infallible assurances that he will remaine his friend which is very high, but indeed they say the gentleman is a fine man. Thence, after eating a lobster for my dinner, having eat nothing today, we broke up, here coming to us Mr. Townsend of the Wardrobe, who complains of the Commissioners of the Treasury as very severe against my Lord Sandwich, but not so much as they complain of him for a fool and a knave, and so I let him alone, and home, carrying Mr. Moore as far as Fenchurch Street, and I home, and there being vexed in my mind about my prize businesses I to my chamber, where my wife and I had much talk of W. Hewer, she telling me that he is mightily concerned for my not being pleased with him, and is herself mightily concerned, but I have much reason to blame him for his little assistance he gives me in my business, not being able to copy out a letter with sense or true spelling that makes me mad, and indeed he is in that regard of as little use to me as the boy, which troubles me, and I would have him know it—and she will let him know it. By and by to supper, and so to bed, and slept but ill all night, my mind running like a fool on my prize business, which according to my reason ought not to trouble me at all.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and among other things Sir H. Cholmly comes to me about a little business, and there tells me how the Parliament, which is to meet again today, are likely to fall heavy on the business of the Duke of Buckingham’s pardon; and I shall be glad of it: and that the King hath put out of the Court the two Hides,3877 my Lord Chancellor’s two sons, and also the Bishops of Rochester3878 and Winchester,3879 the latter of whom should have preached before him yesterday, being Ash Wednesday, and had his sermon ready, but was put by; which is great news: He gone, we sat at the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and my wife being gone before, I to the Duke of York’s playhouse; where a new play of Etherige’s,3880 called She Would if She Could; and though I was there by two o’clock, there was 1,000 people put back that could not have room in the pit: and I at last, because my wife was there, made shift to get into the 18d. box, and there saw; but, Lord! how full was the house, and how silly the play, there being nothing in the world good in it, and few people pleased in it. The King was there; but I sat mightily behind, and could see but little, and hear not all. The play being done, I into the pit to look (for) my wife, and it being dark and raining, I to look my wife out, but could not find her; and so stayed going between the two doors and through the pit an hour and half, I think, after the play was done; the people staying there till the rain was over, and to talk with one another. And, among the rest, here was the Duke of Buckingham today openly sat in the pit; and there I found him with my Lord Buckhurst, and Sidly, and Etherige, the poet; the last of whom I did hear mightily find fault with the actors, that they were out of humour, and had not their parts perfect,3881 and that Harris did do nothing, nor could so much as sing a ketch in it; and so was mightily concerned while all the rest did, through the whole pit, blame the play as a silly, dull thing, though there was something very roguish and witty; but the design of the play, and end, mighty insipid. At last I did find my wife staying for me in the entry; and with her was Betty Turner, Mercer, and Deb. So I got a coach, and a humour took us, and I carried them to Hercules Pillars, and there did give them a kind of a supper of about 7s., and very merry, and home round the town, not through the ruines; and it was pretty how the coachman by mistake drives us into the ruines from London-wall into Coleman Street; and would persuade me that I lived there. And the truth is, I did think that he and the linkman had contrived some roguery; but it proved only a mistake of the coachman; but it was a cunning place to have done us a mischief in, as any I know, to drive us out of the road into the ruines, and there stop, while nobody could be called to help us. But we come safe home, and there, the girls being gone home, I to the office, where a while busy, my head not being wholly free of my trouble about my prize business, I home to bed. This evening coming home I did put my hand under the coats of Mercer and did touch her thigh, but then she did put by my hand and no hurt done, but talked and sang and was merry.
. Up, and to the office, to the getting of my books in order, to carry to the Commissioners of Accounts this morning. This being done, I away first to Westminster Hall, and there met my cousin, Roger Pepys, by his desire, the first time I have seen him since his coming to town, the Parliament meeting yesterday and adjourned to Monday next; and here he tells me that Mr. Jackson, my sister’s servant,3882 is come to town, and hath this day suffered a recovery on his estate, in order to the making her a settlement. The young man is gone out of the Hall, so I could not now see him, but here I walked a good while with my cousin, and among other things do hear that there is a great triall between my Lord Gerard and Carr today, who is indicted for his life at the King’s Bench, for running from his colours; but all do say that my Lord Gerard, though he designs the ruining of this man, will not get anything by it. Thence to the Commissioners of Accounts, and there presented my books, and was made to sit down, and used with much respect, otherwise than the other day, when I come to them as a criminal about the business of the prizes. I sat here with them a great while, while my books were inventoried. And here do hear from them by discourse that they are like to undo the Treasurer’s instruments of the Navy by making it a rule that they shall repay all money paid to wrong parties, which is a thing not to be supported by these poor creatures the Treasurer’s instruments, as it is also hard for seamen to be ruined by their paying money to whom they please. I know not what will be the issue of it. I find these gentlemen to sit all day, and only eat a bit of bread at noon, and a glass of wine; and are resolved to go through their business with great severity and method. Thence I, about two o’clock, to Westminster Hall, by appointment, and there met my cousin Roger again, and Mr. Jackson, who is a plain young man, handsome enough for Pall, one of no education nor discourse, but of few words, and one altogether that, I think, will please me well enough. My cousin had got me to give the odd sixth £100 presently, which I intended to keep to the birth of the first child: and let it go—I shall be eased of the care, and so, after little talk, we parted, resolving to dine together at my house tomorrow. So there parted, my mind pretty well satisfied with this plain fellow for my sister, though I shall, I see, have no pleasure nor content in him, as if he had been a man of reading and parts, like Cumberland, and to the Swan, and there sent for a bit of meat and eat and drank, and so to Whitehall to the Duke of York’s chamber, where I find him and my fellows at their usual meeting, discoursing about securing the Medway this year, which is to shut the door after the horse is stole. However, it is good. Having done here, my Lord Brouncker, and W. Penn, and I, and with us Sir Arnold Breames, to the King’s playhouse, and there saw a piece of Love in a Maze, a dull, silly play, I think; and after the play, home with W. Penn and his son Lowther, whom we met there, and then home and sat most of the evening with my wife and Mr. Pelling, talking, my head being full of business of one kind or other, and most such as do not please me, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all day, and at noon home, and there find cousin Roger and Jackson by appointment come to dine with me, and Creed, and very merry, only Jackson hath few words, and I like him never the worse for it. The great talk is of Carr’s coming off in all his trials, to the disgrace of my Lord Gerard, to that degree, and the ripping up of so many notorious rogueries and cheats of my Lord’s, that my Lord, it is thought, will be ruined; and, above all things, do skew the madness of the House of Commons, who rejected the petition of this poor man by a combination of a few in the House; and, much more, the base proceedings (just the epitome of all our public managements in this age), of the House of Lords, that ordered him to stand in the pillory for those very things, without hearing and examining what he hath now, by the seeking of my Lord Gerard himself, cleared himself of, in open Court, to the gaining himself the pity of all the world, and shame forever to my Lord Gerard. We had a great deal of good discourse at table, and after dinner we four men took coach, and they set me down at the Old Exchange, and they home, having discoursed nothing today with cousin or Jackson about our business. I to Captain Cocke’s, and there discoursed over our business of prizes, and I think I shall go near to state the matter so as to secure myself without wrong to him, doing nor saying anything but the very truth. Thence away to the Strand, to my bookseller’s, and there stayed an hour, and bought the idle, rogueish book, L’escholle des filles;3883 which I have bought in plain binding, avoiding the buying of it better bound, because I resolve, as soon as I have read it, to burn it, that it may not stand in the list of books, nor among them, to disgrace them if it should be found. Thence home, and busy late at the office, and then home to supper and to bed. My wife well pleased with my sister’s match, and designing how to be merry at their marriage. And I am well at ease in my mind to think that that care will be over. This night calling at the Temple, at the Auditor’s, his man told me that he heard that my account must be brought to the view of the Commissioners of Tangier before it can be passed, which though I know no hurt in it, yet it troubled me lest there should be any or any designed by them who put this into the head of the Auditor, I suppose Auditor Beale, or Creed, because they saw me carrying my account another way than by them.
. Up, and at my chamber all the morning and the office doing business, and also reading a little of L’escholle des filles, which is a mighty lewd book, but yet not amiss for a sober man once to read over to inform himself in the villainy of the world. At noon home to dinner, where by appointment Mr. Pelling come and with him three friends, Wallington, that sings the good base, and one Rogers, and a gentleman, a young man, his name Tempest, who sings very well indeed, and understands anything in the world at first sight. After dinner we into our dining room, and there to singing all the afternoon. (By the way, I must remember that Pegg Penn3884 was brought to bed yesterday of a girl; and, among other things, if I have not already set it down, that hardly ever was remembered such a season for the smallpox as these last two months have been, people being seen all up and down the streets, newly come out after the smallpox.) But though they sang fine things, yet I must confess that I did take no pleasure in it, or very little, because I understood not the words, and with the rests that the words are set, there is no sense nor understanding in them though they be English, which makes me weary of singing in that manner, it being but a worse sort of instrumental music. We sang until almost night, and drank mighty good store of wine, and then they parted, and I to my chamber, where I did read through L’escholle des filles, a lewd book, but what do no wrong once to read for information sake. … And after I had done it I burned it, that it might not be among my books to my shame, and so at night to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Westminster, and there made a visit to Mr. Godolphin, at his chamber; and I do find him a very pretty and able person, a man of very fine parts, and of infinite zeal to my Lord Sandwich; and one that says he is, he believes, as wise and able a person as any prince in the world hath. He tells me that he meets with unmannerly usage by Sir Robert Southwell,3885 in Portugal, who would sign with him in his negotiations there, being a forward young man: but that my Lord mastered him in that point, it being ruled for my Lord here, at a hearing of a Committee of the Council. He says that if my Lord can compass a peace between Spain and Portugal, and hath the doing of it and the honour himself, it will be a thing of more honour than ever any man had, and of as much advantage. Thence to Westminster Hall, where the Hall mighty full: and, among other things, the House begins to sit today, and the King come. But, before the King’s coming, the House of Commons met; and upon information given them of a Bill intended to be brought in, as common report said, for Comprehension, they did mightily and generally inveigh against it, and did vote that the King should be desired by the House (and the message delivered by the Privy-counsellers of the House) that the laws against breakers of the Act of Uniformity should be put in execution: and it was moved in the House that, if any people had a mind to bring any new laws into the House, about religion, they might come, as a proposer of new laws did in Athens, with ropes about their necks. By and by the King comes to the Lords’ House, and there tells them of his league with Holland, and the necessity of a fleet, and his debts; and, therefore, want of money; and his desire that they would think of some way to bring in all his Protestant subjects to a right understanding and peace one with another; meaning the Bill of Comprehension.3886 The Commons coming to their House, it was moved that the vote passed this morning might be suspended, because of the King’s speech, till the House was full and called over, two days hence: but it was denied, so furious they are against this Bill: and thereby a great blow either given to the King or Presbyters, or, which is the rather of the two, to the House itself, by denying a thing desired by the King, and so much desired by much the greater part of the nation. Whatever the consequence be, if the King be a man of any stomach and heat, all do believe that he will resent this vote. Thence with Creed home to my house to dinner, where I met with Mr. Jackson, and find my wife angry with Deb., which vexes me. After dinner by coach away to Westminster; taking up a friend of Mr. Jackson’s, a young lawyer, and parting with Creed at Whitehall. They and I to Westminster Hall, and there met Roger Pepys, and with him to his chamber, and there read over and agreed upon the Deed of Settlement to our minds: my sister to have £600 presently, and she to be jointured in £60 per annum; wherein I am very well satisfied. Thence I to the Temple to Charles Porter’s lodgings, where Captain Cocke met me, and after long waiting, on Pemberton,3887 an able lawyer, about the business of our prizes, and left the matter with him to think of against tomorrow, this being a matter that do much trouble my mind, though there be no fault in it that I need fear the owning that I know of. Thence with Cocke home to his house and there left him, and I home, and there got my wife to read a book I bought today, and come out today licensed by Joseph Williamson for Lord Arlington, showing the state of England’s affairs relating to France at this time, and the whole body of the book very good and solid, after a very foolish introduction as ever I read, and do give a very good account of the advantage of our league with Holland at this time. So, vexed in my mind with the variety of cares I have upon me, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning, where comes a damned summons to attend the Committee of Miscarriages today, which makes me mad, that I should by my place become the hackney of this Office, in perpetual trouble and vexation, that need it least. At noon home to dinner, where little pleasure, my head being split almost with the variety of troubles upon me at this time, and cares, and after dinner by coach to Westminster Hall, and sent my wife and Deb. to see Mustapha acted. Here I brought a book to the Committee, and do find them; and particularly Sir Thomas Clarges, mighty hot in the business of tickets, which makes me mad to see them bite at the stone, and not at the hand that flings it, and here my Lord Brouncker unnecessarily orders it that he is called in to give opportunity to present his report of the state of the business of paying by ticket, which I do not think will do him any right, though he was made believe that it did operate mightily, and that Sir Fresh. Hollis did make a mighty harangue and to much purpose in his defence, but I believe no such effects of it, for going in afterward I did hear them speak with prejudice of it, and that his pleading of the Admiral’s warrant for it now was only an evasion, if not an aspersion upon the Admiral, and therefore they would not admit of this his report, but go on with their report as they had resolved before. The orders they sent for this day was the first order that I have yet met with about this business, and was of my own single hand warranting, but I do think it will do me no harm, and therefore do not much trouble myself with it, more than to see how much trouble I am brought to who have best deported myself in all the King’s business. Thence with Lord Brouncker, and set him down at Bow Street, and so to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw the last act for nothing, where I never saw such good acting of any creature as Smith’s part of Zanger;3888 and I do also, though it was excellently acted by ⸻, do yet want Betterton mightily. Thence to the Temple, to Porter’s chamber, where Cocke met me, and after a stay there some time, they two and I to Pemberton’s chamber, and there did read over the Act of calling people to account, and did discourse all our business of the prizes; and, upon the whole, he do make it plainly appear, that there is no avoiding to give these Commissioners satisfaction in everything they will ask; and that there is fear lest they may find reason to make us refund for all the extraordinary profit made by those bargains; and do make me resolve rather to declare plainly, and, once for all, the truth of the whole, and what my profit hath been, than be forced at last to do it, and in the meantime live in gain, as I must always do: and with this resolution on my part I departed, with some more satisfaction of mind, though with less hopes of profit than I expected. It was pretty here to see the heaps of money upon this lawyer’s table; and more to see how he had not since last night spent any time upon our business, but begun with telling us that we were not at all concerned in that Act; which was a total mistake, by his not having read over the Act at all. Thence to Porter’s chamber, where Captain Cocke had fetched my wife out of the coach, and there we stayed and talked and drank, he being a very generous, good-humoured man, and so away by coach, setting Cocke at his house, and we with his coach home, and there I to the office, and there till past one in the morning, and so home to supper and to bed, my mind at pretty good ease, though full of care and fear of loss. This morning my wife in bed told me the story of our Tom and Jane:3889 how the rogue did first demand her consent to love and marry him, and then, with pretence of displeasing me, did slight her; but both he and she have confessed the matter to her, and she hath charged him to go on with his love to her, and be true to her, and so I think the business will go on, which, for my love to her, because she is in love with him, I am pleased with; but otherwise I think she will have no good bargain of it, at least if I should not do well in my place. But if I do stand, I do intend to give her £50 in money, and do them all the good I can in my way.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning drawing up my narrative of my proceedings and concernments in the buying of prize-goods, which I am to present to the Committee for Accounts;3890 and being come to a resolution to conceal nothing from them, I was at great ease how to draw it up without any inventions or practise to put me to future pain or thoughts how to carry on, and now I only discover what my profit was, and at worst I suppose I can be made but to refund my profit and so let it go. At noon home to dinner, where Mr. Jackson dined with me, and after dinner I (calling at the Excise Office, and setting my wife and Deb. at her tailor’s) did with Mr. Jackson go to find my cousin Roger Pepys, which I did in the Parliament House, where I met him and Sir Thomas Crew and Mr. George Montagu, who are mighty busy how to save my Lord’s name from being in the Report for anything which the Committee is commanded to report to the House of the miscarriages of the late war. I find they drive furiously still in the business of tickets, which is nonsense in itself and cannot come to anything. Thence with cousin Roger to his lodgings, and there sealed the writings with Jackson, about my sister’s marriage: and here my cousin Roger told me the pleasant passage of a fellow’s bringing a bag of letters today, into the lobby of the House, and left them, and withdrew himself without observation. The bag being opened, the letters were found all of one size, and directed with one hand: a letter to most of the Members of the House. The House was acquainted with it, and voted they should be brought in, and one opened by the Speaker; wherein if he found anything unfit to communicate, to propose a Committee to be chosen for it. The Speaker opening one, found it only a case with a libel in it, printed: a satire most sober and bitter as ever I read; and every letter was the same. So the House fell a-scrambling for them like boys: and my cousin Roger had one directed to him, which he lent me to read. So away, and took up my wife, and setting Jackson down at Fetter Lane end, I to the old Exchange to look Mr. Houblon, but, not finding him, did go home, and there late writing a letter to my Lord Sandwich, and to give passage to a letter of great moment from Mr. Godolphin to him, which I did get speedy passage for by the help of Mr. Houblon, who come late to me, and there directed the letter to Lisbon under cover of his, and here we talked of the times, which look very sad and distracted, and made good mirth at this day’s passage in the House, and so parted; and going to the gate with him, I found his lady and another fine lady sitting an hour together, late at night, in their coach, while he was with me, which is so like my wife, that I was mighty taken with it, though troubled for it. So home to supper and to bed. This day Captain Cocke was with the Commissioners of Accounts to ask more time for his bringing in his answer about the prize goods, and they would not give him 14 days as he asks, but would give only two days, which was very hard, I think, and did trouble me for fear of their severity, though I have prepared my matter so as to defy it.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence with my wife and Deb. to Whitehall, setting them at her tailor’s, and I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, where myself alone did argue the business of the East India Company against their whole Company on behalf of the King before the Lords Commissioners, and to very good effect, I think, and with reputation. That business being over, the Lords and I had other things to talk about, and among the rest, about our making more assignments on the Exchequer since they bid us hold, whereat they were extraordinary angry with us, which troubled me a little, though I am not concerned in it at all. Waiting here some time without, I did meet with several people, among others Mr. Brisband, who tells me in discourse that Tom Killigrew hath a fee out of the Wardrobe for cap and bells,3891 under the title of the King’s Foole or jester; and may with privilege revile or jeere anybody, the greatest person, without offence, by the privilege of his place. Thence took up my wife, and home, and there busy late at the office writing letters, and so home to supper and to bed. The House was called over today. This morning Sir G. Carteret come to the Office to see and talk with me: and he assures me that to this day the King is the most kind man to my Lord Sandwich in the whole world; that he himself do not now mind any public business, but suffers things to go on at Court as they will, he seeing all likely to come to ruin: that this morning the Duke of York sent to him to come to make up one of a Committee of the Council for Navy Affairs; where, when he come, he told the Duke of York that he was none of them: which shows how things are nowadays ordered, that there should be a Committee for the Navy; and the Lord Admiral not know the persons of it! And that Sir G. Carteret and my Lord Anglesey should be left out of it, and men wholly improper put into it. I do hear of all hands that there is a great difference at this day between my Lord Arlington and Sir W. Coventry, which I am sorry for.
. Up, being called up by Mercer, who come to be my Valentine, and so I rose and my wife, and were merry a little, I staying to talk, and did give her a guinea in gold for her Valentine’s gift. There comes also my cousin Roger Pepys betimes, and comes to my wife, for her to be his Valentine, whose Valentine I was also, by agreement to be so to her every year; and this year I find it is likely to cost £4 or £5 in a ring for her, which she desires. Cousin Roger did come also to speak with Sir W. Penn, who was quoted, it seems, yesterday by Sir Fr. Hollis to have said that if my Lord Sandwich had done so-and-so, we might have taken all the Dutch prizes at the time when he stayed and let them go. But Sir W. Penn did tell us he should say nothing in it but what would do my Lord honour, and he is a knave I am able to prove if he do otherwise. He gone, I to my Office, to perfect my Narrative about prize-goods; and did carry it to the Commissioners of Accounts, who did receive it with great kindness, and express great value of, and respect to me: and my heart is at rest that it is lodged there, in so full truth and plainness, though it may hereafter prove some loss to me. But here I do see they are entered into many enquiries about prizes, by the great attendance of commanders and others before them, which is a work I am not sorry for. Thence I away, with my head busy, but my heart at pretty good ease, to the Old Exchange, and there met Mr. Houblon. I prayed him to discourse with some of the merchants that are of the Committee for Accounts, to see how they do resent my paper, and in general my particular in the relation to the business of the Navy, which he hath promised to do carefully for me and tell me. Here it was a mighty pretty sight to see old Mr. Houblon, whom I never saw before, and all his sons about him, all good merchants. Thence home to dinner, and had much discourse with W. Hewer about my going to visit Colonel Thomson, one of the Committee of Accounts,3892 who, among the rest, is mighty kind to me, and is likely to mind our business more than any; and I would be glad to have a good understanding with him. Thence after dinner to Whitehall, to attend the Duke of York, where I did let him know, too, the troublesome life we lead, and particularly myself, by being obliged to such attendances every day as I am, on one Committee or another. And I do find the Duke of York himself troubled, and willing not to be troubled with occasions of having his name used among the Parliament, though he himself do declare that he did give directions to Lord Brouncker to discharge the men at Chatham by ticket, and will own it, if the House call for it, but not else. Thence I attended the King and Council, and some of the rest of us, in a business to be heard about the value of a ship of one Dorrington’s:3893 and it was pretty to observe how Sir W. Penn making use of this argument against the validity of an oath, against the King, being made by the master’s mate of the ship, who was but a fellow of about 23 years of age—the master of the ship, against whom we pleaded, did say that he did think himself at that age capable of being master’s mate of any ship; and do know that he, himself, Sir W. Penn, was so himself, and in no better degree at that age himself: which word did strike Sir W. Penn dumb, and made him open his mouth no more; and I saw the King and Duke of York wink at one another at it. This done, we into the gallery; and there I walked with several people, and among others my Lord Brouncker, who I do find under much trouble still about the business of the tickets, his very case being brought in; as is said, this day in the Report of the Miscarriages. And he seems to lay much of it on me, which I did clear and satisfy him in; and would be glad with all my heart to serve him in, and have done it more than he hath done for himself, he not deserving the least blame, but commendations, for this. I met with my cousin Roger Pepys and Creed; and from them understand that the Report was read today of the Miscarriages, wherein my Lord Sandwich is [named] about the business I mentioned this morning; but I will be at rest, for it can do him no hurt. Our business of tickets is soundly up, and many others: so they went over them again, and spent all the morning on the first, which is the dividing of the fleet; wherein hot work was, and that among great men, Privy-Councillors, and, they say, Sir W. Coventry; but I do not much fear it, but do hope that it will show a little, of the Duke of Albemarle and the Prince to have been advisers in it: but whereas they ordered that the King’s Speech should be considered today, they took no notice of it at all, but are really come to despise the King in all possible ways of chewing it. And it was the other day a strange saying, as I am told by my cousin Roger Pepys, in the House, when it was moved that the King’s speech should be considered, that though the first part of the Speech, meaning the league that is there talked of, be the only good public thing that hath been done since the King come into England, yet it might bear with being put off to consider, till Friday next, which was this day. Secretary Morrice did this day in the House, when they talked of intelligence, say that he was allowed but £70 a-year for intelligence3894 whereas, in Cromwell’s time, he [Cromwell] did allow £70,000 a-year for it; and was confirmed therein by Colonel Birch, who said that thereby Cromwell carried the secrets of all the princes of Europe at his girdle. The House is in a most broken condition; nobody adhering to anything, but reviling and finding fault: and now quite mad at the Undertakers, as they are commonly called, Littleton, Lord Vaughan, Sir R. Howard, and others that are brought over to the Court, and did undertake to get the King money; but they despise, and would not hear them in the House; and the Court do do as much, seeing that they cannot be useful to them, as was expected. In short, it is plain that the King will never be able to do anything with this Parliament; and that the only likely way to do better, for it cannot do worse, is to break this and call another Parliament; and some do think that it is intended. I was told tonight that my Lady Castlemayne is so great a gamester as to have won £5,000 in one night, and lost £25,000 in another night, at play, and hath played £1,000 and £1,500 at a cast. Thence to the Temple, where at Porter’s chamber I met Captain Cocke, but lost our labour, our Counsellor not being within, Pemberton, and therefore home and late at my office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and with Captain Cocke my coach to the Temple to his Counsel again about the prize goods in order to the drawing up of his answer to them, where little done but a confirmation that our best interest is for him to tell the whole truth, and so parted, and I home to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon and evening till midnight almost, and till I had tired my own backe, and my wife’s, and Deb.’s, in titling of my books for the present year, and in setting them in order, which is now done to my very good satisfaction, though not altogether so completely as I think they were the last year, when my mind was more at leisure to mind it. So about midnight to bed, where my wife taking some physic overnight it wrought with her, and those coming upon her with great gripes, she was in mighty pain all night long, yet, God forgive me! I did find that I was most desirous to take my rest than to ease her, but there was nothing I could do to do her any good with.
. Up, and to my chamber, where all the morning making a catalogue of my books, which did find me work, but with great pleasure, my chamber and books being now set in very good order, and my chamber washed and cleaned, which it had not been in some months before, my business and trouble having been so much. At noon Mr. Holliard put in, and dined with my wife and me, who was a little better today. His company very good. His story of his love and fortune, which hath been very good and very bad in the world, well worth hearing. Much discourse also about the bad state of the Church, and how the Clergy are come to be men of no worth in the world; and, as the world do now generally discourse, they must be reformed; and I believe the Hierarchy will in a little time be shaken, whether they will or no; the King being offended with them, and set upon it, as I hear. He gone, after dinner to have my head combed, and then to my chamber and read most of the evening till pretty late, when, my wife not being well, I did lie below stairs in our great chamber, where I slept well.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning till noon getting some things more ready against the afternoon for the Committee of Accounts, which did give me great trouble, to see how I am forced to dance after them in one place, and to answer Committees of Parliament in another. At noon thence toward the Committee, but meeting with Sir W. Warren in Fleet Street he and I to the Ordinary by Temple Bar and there dined together, and to talk, where he do seem to be very high now in defiance of the Board, now he says that the worst is come upon him to have his accounts brought to the Committee of Accounts, and he do reflect upon my late coldness to him, but upon the whole I do find that he is still a cunning fellow, and will find it necessary to be fair to me, and what hath passed between us of coldness to hold his tongue, which do please me very well. Thence to the Committee, where I did deliver the several things they expected from me, with great respect and show of satisfaction, and my mind thereby eased of some care. But thence I to Westminster Hall, and there spent till late at night walking to and again with many people, and there in general I hear of the great high words that were in the House on Saturday last, upon the first part of the Committee’s Report about the dividing of the fleet; wherein some would have the counsels of the King to be declared, and the reasons of them, and who did give them; where Sir W. Coventry laid open to them the consequences of doing that, that the King would never have any honest and wise men ever to be of his Council. They did here in the House talk boldly of the King’s bad counsellors, and how they must be all turned out, and many of them, and better, brought in: and the proceedings of the Long-Parliament in the beginning of the war were called to memory: and the King’s bad intelligence was mentioned, wherein they were bitter against my Lord Arlington, saying, among other things, that whatever Morrice’s was, who declared he had but £750 a-year allowed him for intelligence, the King paid too dear for my Lord Arlington’s, in giving him £10,000 and a barony for it. Sir W. Coventry did here come to his defence, in the business of the letter that was sent to call back Prince Rupert, after he was divided from the fleet,3895 wherein great delay was objected; but he did show that he sent it at one in the morning, when the Duke of York did give him the instructions after supper that night, and did clear himself well of it: only it was laid as a fault, which I know not how he removes, of not sending it by an express, but by the ordinary post; but I think I have heard he did send it to my Lord Arlington’s; and that there it lay for some hours; it coming not to Sir Philip Honiwood’s hand at Portsmouth3896 till four in the afternoon that day, being about fifteen or sixteen hours in going; and about this, I think, I have heard of a falling out between my Lord Arlington, heretofore, and W. Coventry. Some mutterings I did hear of a design of dissolving the Parliament; but I think there is no ground for it yet, though Oliver would have dissolved them for half the trouble and contempt these have put upon the King and his councils. The dividing of the fleet, however, is, I hear, voted a miscarriage, and the not building a fortification at Sheerness:3897 and I have reason every hour to expect that they will vote the like of our paying men off by ticket; and what the consequence of that will be I know not, but I am put thereby into great trouble of mind. I did spend a little time at the Swan, and there did kiss the maid, Sarah. At noon home, and there up to my wife, who is still ill, and supped with her, my mind being mighty full of trouble for the office and my concernments therein, and so to supper and talking with W. Hewer in her chamber about business of the office, wherein he do well understand himself and our case, and it do me advantage to talk with him and the rest of my people. I to bed below as I did last night.
. Up by break of day, and walked down to the old Swan, where I find little Michell building, his booth being taken down, and a foundation laid for a new house, so that that street is like to be a very fine place. I drank, but did not see Betty, and so to Charing Cross stairs, and thence walked to Sir W. Coventry’s,3898 and talked with him, who tells me how he hath been persecuted, and how he is yet well come off in the business of the dividing of the fleet, and the sending of the letter. He expects next to be troubled about the business of bad officers in the fleet, wherein he will bid them name whom they call bad, and he will justify himself, having never disposed of any but by the Admiral’s liking. And he is able to give an account of all them, how they come recommended, and more will be found to have been placed by the Prince and Duke of Albemarle than by the Duke of York during the war, and as no bad instance of the badness of officers he and I did look over the list of commanders, and found that we could presently recollect thirty-seven commanders that have been killed in actuall service this war. He tells me that Sir Fr. Hollis is the main man that hath persecuted him hitherto, in the business of dividing the fleet, saying vainly that the want of that letter to the Prince hath given him that, that he shall remember it by to his grave, meaning the loss of his arme;3899 when, God knows! he is as idle and insignificant a fellow as ever come into the fleet. He tells me that in discourse on Saturday he did repeat Sir Rob. Howard’s words about rolling out of counsellors, that for his part he neither cared who they rolled in, nor who they rolled out, by which the word is become a word of use in the House, the rolling out of officers.3900 I will remember what, in mirth, he said to me this morning, when upon this discourse he said, if ever there was another Dutch war, they should not find a Secretary; “Nor,” said I, “a Clerk of the Acts, for I see the reward of it; and, thanked God! I have enough of my own to buy me a good book and a good fiddle, and I have a good wife;”—“Why,” says he, “I have enough to buy me a good book, and shall not need a fiddle, because I have never a one of your good wives.” I understand by him that we are likely to have our business of tickets voted a miscarriage, but [he] cannot tell me what that will signify more than that he thinks they will report them to the King and there leave them, but I doubt they will do more. Thence walked over St. James’s Park to Whitehall, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked all the morning, and did speak with several Parliament-men-among others, Birch, who is very kind to me, and calls me, with great respect and kindness, a man of business, and he thinks honest, and so long will stand by me, and every such man, to the death. My business was to instruct them to keep the House from falling into any mistaken vote about the business of tickets, before they were better informed. I walked in the Hall all the morning with my Lord Brouncker, who was in great pain there, and, the truth is, his business is, without reason, so ill resented by the generality of the House, that I was almost troubled to be seen to walk with him, and yet am able to justify him in all, that he is under so much scandal for. Here I did get a copy of the report itself, about our paying off men by tickets; and am mightily glad to see it, now knowing the state of our case, and what we have to answer to, and the more for that the House is like to be kept by other business today and tomorrow, so that, against Thursday, I shall be able to draw up some defence to put into some Member’s hands, to inform them, and I think we may [make] a very good one, and therefore my mind is mightily at ease about it. This morning they are upon a Bill, brought in today by Sir Richard Temple, for obliging the King to call Parliaments every three years; or, if he fail, for others to be obliged to do it, and to keep him from a power of dissolving any Parliament in less than forty days after their first day of sitting, which is such a Bill as do speak very high proceedings, to the lessening of the King; and this they will carry, and whatever else they desire, before they will give any money; and the King must have money, whatever it cost him. I stepped to the Dog Tavern, and thither come to me Doll Lane, and there we did drink together, and she tells me she is my valentine. … Thence, she being gone, and having spoke with Mr. Spicer here, whom I sent for hither to discourse about the security of the late Act of 11 months’ tax on which I have secured part of my money lent to Tangier, I to the Hall, and there met Sir W. Penn, and he and I to the Beare, in Drury Lane, an excellent ordinary, after the French manner, but of Englishmen; and there had a good fricassee, our dinner coming to 8s., which was mighty pretty, to my great content; and thence, he and I to the King’s house, and there, in one of the upper boxes, saw Flora’s Vagaries, which is a very silly play; and the more, I being out of humour, being at a play without my wife, and she ill at home, and having no desire also to be seen, and, therefore, could not look about me. Thence to the Temple, and there we parted, and I to see Kate Joyce, where I find her and her friends in great ease of mind, the jury having this day given in their verdict that her husband died of a feaver. Some opposition there was, the foreman pressing them to declare the cause of the feaver, thinking thereby to obstruct it: but they did adhere to their verdict, and would give no reason; so all trouble is now over, and she safe in her estate, which I am mighty glad of, and so took leave, and home, and up to my wife, not owning my being at a play, and there she shows me her ring of a Turky-stone set with little sparks of diamonds,3901 which I am to give her, as my Valentine, and I am not much troubled at it. It will cost me near £5—she costing me but little compared with other wives, and I have not many occasions to spend on her. So to my office, where late, and to think upon my observations tomorrow, upon the report of the Committee to the Parliament about the business of tickets, whereof my head is full, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning drawing up an answer to the Report of the Committee for miscarriages to the Parliament touching our paying men by tickets, which I did do in a very good manner I think. Dined with my clerks at home, where much good discourse of our business of the Navy, and the trouble now upon us, more than we expected. After dinner my wife out with Deb., to buy some things against my sister’s wedding, and I to the office to write fair my business I did in the morning, and in the evening to Whitehall, where I find Sir W. Coventry all alone, a great while with the Duke of York, in the King’s drawing-room, they two talking together all alone, which did mightily please me. Then I did get Sir W. Coventry (the Duke of York being gone) aside, and there read over my paper, which he liked and corrected, and tells me it will be hard to escape, though the thing be never so fair, to have it voted a miscarriage; but did advise me and my Lord Brouncker, who coming by did join with us, to prepare some members in it, which we shall do. Here I do hear how La Roche,3902 a French captain, who was once prisoner here, being with his ship at Plymouth, hath played some freakes there, for which his men being beat out of the town, he hath put up his flag of defiance, and also, somewhere thereabout, did land with his men, and go a mile into the country, and did some pranks, which sounds pretty odd, to our disgrace, but we are in condition now to bear anything. But, blessed be God! all the Court is full of the good news of my Lord Sandwich’s having made a peace between Spain and Portugal,3903 which is mighty great news, and, above all, to my Lord’s honour, more than anything he ever did; and yet I do fear it will not prevail to secure him in Parliament against incivilities there. Thence, took up my wife at Unthanke’s, and so home, and there my mind being full of preparing my paper against tomorrow for the House, with an address from the office to the House, I to the office, very late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office a while, and thence to Whitehall by coach with Mr. Batelier with me, whom I took up in the street. I thence by water to Westminster Hall, and there with Lord Brouncker, Sir T. Harvy, Sir J. Minnes, did wait all the morning to speak to members about our business, thinking our business of tickets would come before the House today, but we did alter our minds about the petition to the House, sending in the paper to them. But the truth is we were in a great hurry, but it fell out that they were most of the morning upon the business of not prosecuting the first victory; which they have voted one of the greatest miscarriages of the whole war, though they cannot lay the fault anywhere yet, because Harman is not come home. This kept them all the morning, which I was glad of. So down to the Hall, where my wife by agreement stayed for me at Mrs. Michell’s, and there was Mercer and the girl, and I took them to Wilkinson’s the cook’s in King Street (where I find the master of the house hath been dead for some time), and there dined, and thence by one o’clock to the King’s house: a new play, The Duke of Lerma, of Sir Robert Howard’s: where the King and Court was; and Knepp and Nell spoke the prologue most excellently, especially Knepp, who spoke beyond any creature I ever heard.3904 The play designed to reproach our King with his mistresses, that I was troubled for it, and expected it should be interrupted; but it ended all well, which salved all. The play a well-writ and good play, only its design I did not like of reproaching the King, but altogether a very good and most serious play. Thence home, and there a little to the office, and so home to supper, where Mercer with us, and sang, and then to bed.
. At the office all the morning to get a little business done, I having, and so the whole office, been put out of doing any business there for this week by our trouble in attending the Parliament. Hither comes to me young Captain Beckford,3905 the slopseller, and there presents me a little purse with gold in it, it being, as he told me, for his present to me, at the end of the last year. I told him I had not done him any service I knew of. He persisted, and I refused, but did at several denials; and telling him that it was not an age to take presents in, he told me he had reason to present me with something, and desired me to accept of it, which, at his so urging me, I did, and so fell to talk of his business, and so parted. I do not know of any manner of kindness I have done him this last year, nor did expect anything. It was therefore very welcome to me, but yet I was not fully satisfied in my taking it, because of my submitting myself to the having it objected against me hereafter, and the rather because this morning Jacke Fen come and showed me an order from the Commissioners of Accounts, wherein they demand of him an account upon oath of all the sums of money that have been by him defalked or taken from any man since their time, of enquiry upon any payments, and if this should, as it is to be feared, come to be done to us, I know not what I shall then do, but I shall take counsel upon it. At noon by coach towards Westminster, and met my Lord Brouncker, and W. Penn, and Sir T. Harvey, in King’s Street, coming away from the Parliament House; and so I to them, and to the French ordinary, at the Blue Bells, in Lincolne’s Inn Fields, and there dined and talked. And, among other things, they tell me how the House this day is still as backward for giving any money as ever, and do declare they will first have an account of the disposals of the last Poll-bill, and eleven months’ tax: and it is pretty odde that the very first sum mentioned in the account brought in by Sir Robert Long, of the disposal of the Poll-bill money, is £5,000 to my Lord Arlington for intelligence; which was mighty unseasonable, so soon after they had so much cried out against his want of intelligence. The King do also own but £250,000, or thereabouts, yet paid on the Poll-bill, and that he hath charged £350,000 upon it. This makes them mad; for that the former Poll-bill, that was so much less in its extent than the last, which took in all sexes and qualities, did come to £350,000. Upon the whole, I perceive they are like to do nothing in this matter to please the King, or relieve the State, be the case never so pressing; and, therefore, it is thought by a great many that the King cannot be worse if he should dissolve them: but there is nobody dares advise it, nor do he consider anything himself. Thence, having dined for 20s., we to the Duke of York at Whitehall, and there had our usual audience, and did little but talk of the proceedings of the Parliament, wherein he is as much troubled as we; for he is not without fears that they do aim at doing him hurt; but yet he declares that he will never deny to own what orders he hath given to any man to justify him, notwithstanding their having sent to him to desire his being tender to take upon him the doing anything of that kind. Thence with Brouncker and T. Harvey to Westminster Hall, and there met with Colonel Birch and Sir John Lowther,3906 and did there in the lobby read over what I have drawn up for our defence, wherein they own themselves mightily satisfied; and Birch, like a particular friend, do take it upon him to defend us, and do mightily do me right in all his discourse. Here walked in the Hall with him a great while, and discoursed with several members, to prepare them in our business against tomorrow, and meeting my cousin Roger Pepys, he showed me Granger’s written confession,3907 of his being forced by imprisonment, etc., by my Lord Gerard, most barbarously to confess his forging of a deed in behalf of Fitton, in the great case between him [Fitton] and my Lord Gerard; which business is under examination, and is the foulest against my Lord Gerard that ever anything in the world was, and will, all do believe, ruin him; and I shall be glad of it. Thence with Lord Brouncker and T. Harvey as far as the New Exchange, and there at a draper’s shop drawing up a short note of what they are to desire of the House for our having a hearing before they determine anything against us, which paper is for them to show to what friends they meet against tomorrow, I away home to the office, and there busy pretty late, and here comes my wife to me, who hath been at Pegg Penn’s christening,3908 which, she says, hath made a flutter and noise; but was as mean as could be, and but little company, just like all the rest that that family do. So home to supper and to bed, with my head full of a defence before the Parliament tomorrow, and therein content myself very well, and with what I have done in preparing some of the members thereof in order thereto.
. Up, and by coach through Ducke Lane, and there did buy Kircher’s Musurgia,3909 cost me 35s., a book I am mighty glad of, expecting to find great satisfaction in it. Thence to Westminster Hall and the lobby, and up and down there all the morning, and to the Lords’ House, and heard the Solicitor-General plead very finely, as he always do; and this was in defence of the East India Company against a man3910 that complains of wrong from them, and thus up and down till noon in expectation of our business coming on in the House of Commons about tickets, but they being busy about my Lord Gerard’s business I did give over the thoughts of ours coming on, and so with my wife, and Mercer, and Deb., who come to the Hall to me, I away to the Beare, in Drury Lane, and there bespoke a dish of meat; and, in the meantime, sat and sung with Mercer; and, by and by, dined with mighty pleasure, and excellent meat, one little dish enough for us all, and good wine, and all for 8s., and thence to the Duke’s playhouse, and there saw Albumazar, an old play, this the second time of acting. It is said to have been the ground of B. Jonson’s Alchymist; but, saving the ridiculousness of Angell’s part, which is called Trinkilo, I do not see anything extraordinary in it, but was indeed weary of it before it was done.3911 The King here, and, indeed, all of us, pretty merry at the mimic tricks of Trinkilo. So home, calling in Ducke Lane for the book I bought this morning, and so home, and wrote my letters at the office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and, being desired by a messenger from Sir G. Carteret, I by water over to Southwarke, and so walked to the Falkon, on the Bank-side, and there got another boat, and so to Westminster, where I would have gone into the Swan; but the door was locked; and the girl could not let me in, and so to Wilkinson’s in King Street, and there wiped my shoes, and so to Court, where sermon not yet done I met with Brisband; and he tells me, first, that our business of tickets did come to debate yesterday, it seems, after I was gone away, and was voted a miscarriage in general. He tells me in general that there is great looking after places, upon a presumption of a great many vacancies; and he did show me a fellow at Court, a brother of my Lord Fanshaw’s,3912 a witty but rascally fellow, without a penny in his purse, that was asking him what places there were in the Navy fit for him, and Brisband tells me, in mirth, he told him the Clerke of the Acts, and I wish he had it, so I were well and quietly rid of it; for I am weary of this kind of trouble, having, I think, enough whereon to support myself. By and by, chapel done, I met with Sir W. Coventry, and he and I walked awhile together in the Matted Gallery; and there he told me all the proceedings yesterday: that the matter is found, in general, a miscarriage, but no persons named; and so there is no great matter to our prejudice yet, till, if ever, they come to particular persons. He told me Birch was very industrious to do what he could, and did, like a friend; but they were resolved to find the thing, in general, a miscarriage; and says, that when we shall think fit to desire its being heard, as to our own defence, it will be granted. He tells me how he hath, with advantage, cleared himself in what concerns himself therein, by his servant Robson, which I am glad of. He tells me that there is a letter sent by conspiracy to some of the House, which he hath seen, about the matter of selling of places, which he do believe he shall be called upon tomorrow for: and thinks himself well prepared to defend himself in it; and then neither he, nor his friends for him, are afeard of anything to his prejudice. Thence by coach, with Brisband, to Sir G. Carteret’s, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and there dined: a good dinner and good company; and after dinner he and I alone, discoursing of my Lord Sandwich’s matters; who hath, in the first business before the House, been very kindly used beyond expectation, the matter being laid by, till his coming home and old Mr. Vaughan did speak for my Lord, which I am mighty glad of. The business of the prizes is the worst that can be said, and therein I do fear something may lie hard upon him; but, against this, we must prepare the best we can for his defence. Thence with G. Carteret to Whitehall, where I, finding a meeting of the Committee of the Council for the Navy,3913 his Royal Highness there, and Sir W. Penn, and some of the Brethren of the Trinity House to attend, I did go in with them; and it was to be informed of the practice heretofore, for all foreign nations, at enmity one with another, to forbear any acts of hostility to one another, in the presence of any of the King of England’s ships, of which several instances were given: and it is referred to their further enquiry, in order to the giving instructions accordingly to our ships now, during the war between Spain and France. Would to God we were in the same condition as heretofore, to challenge and maintain this our dominion! Thence with W. Penn homeward, and quite through to Mile End, for a little air; the days being now pretty long, but the ways mighty dirty, and here we drank at the Rose, the old house, and so back again, talking of the Parliament and our trouble with them and what passed yesterday. Going back again, Sir R. Brookes overtook us coming to town; who hath played the jacke with us all, and is a fellow that I must trust no more, he quoting me for all he hath said in this business of tickets; though I have told him nothing that either is not true, or I afeard to own. But here talking, he did discourse in this stile: “We,”—and “We” all along—“will not give any money, be the pretence never so great, nay, though the enemy was in the River of Thames again, till we know what is become of the last money given;” and I do believe he do speak the mind of his fellows, and so let them, if the King will suffer it. He gone, we home, and there I to read, and my belly being full of my dinner today, I anon to bed, and there, as I have for many days, slept not an hour quietly, but full of dreams of our defence to the Parliament and giving an account of our doings. This evening, my wife did with great pleasure show me her stock of jewels, increased by the ring she hath made lately as my Valentine’s gift this year, a Turky stone3914 set with diamonds: and, with this and what she had, she reckons that she hath above £150 worth of jewels, of one kind or other; and I am glad of it, for it is fit the wretch should have something to content herself with.
. Up, and to my office, where most of the morning, entering my journal for the three days past. Thence about noon with my wife to the New Exchange, by the way stopping at my bookseller’s, and there leaving my Kircher’s Musurgia to be bound, and did buy L’illustre Bassa,3915 in four volumes, for my wife. Thence to the Exchange and left her; while meeting Dr. Gibbons3916 there, he and I to see an organ at the Dean of Westminster’s lodgings at the Abby, the Bishop of Rochester’s;3917 where he lives like a great prelate, his lodgings being very good; though at present under great disgrace at Court, being put by his Clerk of the Closet’s place. I saw his lady,3918 of whom the Terræ Filius3919 of Oxford was once so merry; and two children, whereof one a very pretty little boy, like him, so fat and black. Here I saw the organ; but it is too big for my house, and the fashion do not please me enough; and therefore will not have it. Thence to the ’Change back again, leaving him, and took my wife and Deb. home, and there to dinner alone, and after dinner I took them to the Nursery3920 where none of us ever were before; where the house is better and the music better than we looked for, and the acting not much worse, because I expected as bad as could be: and I was not much mistaken, for it was so. However, I was pleased well to see it once, it being worth a man’s seeing to discover the different ability and understanding of people, and the different growth of people’s abilities by practise. Their play was a bad one, called Jeronimo Is Mad Again,3921 a tragedy. Here was some good company by us, who did make mighty sport at the folly of their acting, which I could not neither refrain from sometimes, though I was sorry for it. So away hence home, where to the office to do business a while, and then home to supper and to read, and then to bed. I was prettily served this day at the playhouse-door, where, giving six shillings into the fellow’s hand for us three, the fellow by legerdemain did convey one away, and with so much grace faced me down that I did give him but five, that, though I knew the contrary, yet I was overpowered by his so grave and serious demanding the other shilling, that I could not deny him, but was forced by myself to give it him. After I come home this evening comes a letter to me from Captain Allen, formerly Clerk of the Ropeyard at Chatham, and whom I was kind to in those days, who in recompense of my favour to him then do give me notice that he hears of an accusation likely to be exhibited against me of my receiving £50 of Mason, the timber merchant,3922 and that his wife hath spoke it. I am mightily beholden to Captain Allen for this, though the thing is to the best of my memory utterly false, and I do believe it to be wholly so, but yet it troubles me to have my name mentioned in this business, and more to consider how I may be liable to be accused where I have indeed taken presents, and therefore puts me on an enquiry into my actings in this kind and prepare against a day of accusation.
. Up, having lain the last night the first night that I have lain with my wife since she was last ill, which is about eight days. To the office, where busy all the morning. At noon comes W. Howe to me, to advise what answer to give to the business of the prizes, wherein I did give him the best advice I could; but am sorry to see so many things, wherein I doubt it will not be prevented but Sir Roger Cuttance and Mr. Pierce will be found very much concerned in goods beyond the distribution, and I doubt my Lord Sandwich too, which troubles me mightily. He gone I to dinner, and thence set my wife at the New Exchange, and I to Mr. Clerke, my solicitor, to the Treasury chamber, but the Lords did not sit, so I by water with him to the New Exchange, and there we parted, and I took my wife and Deb. up, and to the Nursery, where I was yesterday, and there saw them act a comedy, a pastorall, The Faythful Shepherd,3923 having the curiosity to see whether they did a comedy better than a tragedy; but they do it both alike, in the meanest manner, that I was sick of it, but only for to satisfy myself once in seeing the manner of it, but I shall see them no more, I believe. Thence to the New Exchange, to take some things home that my wife hath bought, a dressing-box, and other things for her chamber and table, that cost me above £4, and so home, and there to the office, and tell W. Hewer of the letter from Captain Allen last night, to give him caution if anything should be discovered of his dealings with anybody, which I should for his sake as well, or more than for my own, be sorry for; and with great joy I do find, looking over my memorandum books, which are now of great use to me, and do fully reward me for all my care in keeping them, that I am not likely to be troubled for anything of the kind but what I shall either be able beforehand to prevent, or if discovered, be able to justify myself in, and I do perceive, by Sir W. Warren’s discourse, that they [the House] do all they can possibly to get out of him and others, what presents they have made to the Officers of the Navy; but he tells me that he hath denied all, though he knows that he is forsworn as to what relates to me. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by water to Charing Cross stairs, and thence to W. Coventry to discourse concerning the state of matters in the Navy, where he particularly acquainted me with the trouble he is like to meet with about the selling of places, all carried on by Sir Fr. Hollis, but he seems not to value it, being able to justify it to be lawful and constant practice, and never by him used in the least degree since he upon his own motion did obtain a salary of £500 in lieu thereof. Thence to the Treasury Chamber about a little business, and so home by coach, and in my way did meet W. Howe going to the Commissioners of Accounts. I stopped and spoke to him, and he seems well resolved what to answer them, but he will find them very strict, and not easily put off. So home and there to dinner, and after dinner comes W. Howe to tell me how he sped, who says he was used civilly, and not so many questions asked as he expected; but yet I do perceive enough to show that they do intend to know the bottom of things, and where to lay the great weight of the disposal of these East India goods, and that they intend plainly to do upon my Lord Sandwich. Thence with him by coach and set him down at the Temple, and I to Westminster Hall, where, it being now about six o’clock, I find the House just risen; and met with Sir W. Coventry and the Lieutenant of the Tower, they having sat all day; and with great difficulty have got a vote for giving the King £300,000, not to be raised by any land-tax. The sum is much smaller than I expected, and than the King needs; but is grounded upon Mr. Wren’s reading our estimates the other day of £270,000, to keep the fleet abroad, wherein we demanded nothing for setting and fitting of them out, which will cost almost £200,000, I do verily believe: and do believe that the King hath no cause to thank Wren for this motion. I home to Sir W. Coventry’s lodgings, with him and the Lieutenant of the Tower, where also was Sir John Coventry, and Sir John Duncomb, and Sir Job Charleton.3924 And here a great deal of good discourse: and they seem mighty glad to have this vote pass, which I did wonder at, to see them so well satisfied with so small a sum, Sir John Duncomb swearing, as I perceive he will freely do, that it was as much as the nation could beare. Among other merry discourse about spending of money, and how much more chargeable a man’s living is now more than it was heretofore, Duncomb did swear that in France he did live of £100 a year with more plenty, and wine and wenches, than he believes can be done now for £200, which was pretty odd for him, being a Committeeman’s son, to say. Having done here, and supped, where I eat very little, we home in Sir John Robinson’s coach, and there to bed.
. All the morning at the office, and at noon home to dinner, and thence with my wife and Deb. to the King’s House, to see The Virgin Martyr,3925 the first time it hath been acted a great while: and it is mighty pleasant; not that the play is worth much, but it is finely acted by Becke Marshall. But that which did please me beyond anything in the whole world was the wind-music when the angel comes down, which is so sweet that it ravished me, and indeed, in a word, did wrap up my soul so that it made me really sick, just as I have formerly been when in love with my wife; that neither then, nor all the evening going home, and at home, I was able to think of anything, but remained all night transported, so as I could not believe that ever any music hath that real command over the soul of a man as this did upon me: and makes me resolve to practice wind-music, and to make my wife do the like.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning doing business, and after dinner with Sir W. Penn to Whitehall, where we and the rest of us presented a great letter of the state of our want of money to his Royal Highness. I did also present a demand of mine for consideration for my travelling-charges of coach and boat-hire during the war, which, though his Royal Highness and the company did all like of, yet, contrary to my expectation, I find him so jealous now of doing anything extraordinary, that he desired the gentlemen that they would consider it, and report their minds in it to him. This did unsettle my mind a great while, not expecting this stop: but, however, I shall do as well, I know, though it causes me a little stop. But that, that troubles me most is, that while we were thus together with the Duke of York, comes in Mr. Wren from the House, where, he tells us, another storm hath been all this day almost against the Officers of the Navy upon this complaint—that though they have made good rules for payment of tickets, yet that they have not observed them themselves, which was driven so high as to have it urged that we should presently be put out of our places: and so they have at last ordered that we shall be heard at the bar of the House upon this business on Thursday next. This did mightily trouble me and us all; but me particularly, who am least able to bear these troubles, though I have the least cause to be concerned in it. Thence, therefore, to visit Sir H. Cholmly, who hath for some time been ill of a cold; and thence walked towards Westminster, and met Colonel Birch, who took me back to walk with him, and did give me an account of this day’s heat against the Navy Officers, and an account of his speech on our behalf, which was very good; and indeed we are much beholden to him, as I, after I parted with him, did find by my cousin Roger, whom I went to: and he and I to his lodgings. And there he did tell me the same over again; and how much Birch did stand up in our defence; and that he do see that there are many desirous to have us out of the Office; and the House is so furious and passionate, that he thinks nobody can be secure, let him deserve never so well. But now, he tells me, we shall have a fair hearing of the House, and he hopes justice of them: but, upon the whole, he do agree with me that I should hold my hand as to making any purchase of land, which I had formerly discoursed with him about, till we see a little further how matters go. He tells me that that made them so mad today first was, several letters in the House about the Fanatickes, in several places, coming in great bodies, and turning people out of the churches, and there preaching themselves, and pulling the surplice over the Parsons’ heads: this was confirmed from several places; which makes them stark mad, especially the hectors and bravadoes of the House, who show all the zeal on this occasion. Having done with him, I home vexed in my mind, and so fit for no business, but sat talking with my wife and supped with her; and Nan Mercer come and sat all the evening with us, and much pretty discourse, which did a little ease me, and so to bed.
. Up, and walked to Captain Cocke’s, where Sir G. Carteret promised to meet me and did come to discourse about the prize-business of my Lord Sandwich’s, which I perceive is likely to be of great ill consequence to my Lord, the House being mighty vehement in it. We could say little but advise that his friends should labour to get it put off, till he comes. We did here talk many things over, in lamentation of the present posture of affairs, and the ill condition of all people that have had anything to do under the King, wishing ourselves a great way off. Here they tell me how Sir Thomas Allen hath taken the Englishmen out of “La Roche,” and taken from him an Ostend prize which La Roche had fetched out of our harbours; and at this day La Roche keeps upon our coasts; and had the boldness to land some men and go a mile up into the country, and there took some goods belonging to this prize out of a house there;3926 which our King resents, and, they say, hath wrote to the King of France about; and everybody do think a war will follow; and then in what a case we shall be for want of money, nobody knows. Thence to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and to the office again in the afternoon, where we met to consider of an answer to the Parliament about the not paying of tickets according to our own orders, to which I hope we shall be able to give a satisfactory answer, but that the design of the House being apparently to remove us, I do question whether the best answer will prevail with them. This done I by coach with my wife to Martin, my bookseller’s, expecting to have had my Kercher’s Musurgia, but to my trouble and loss of trouble it was not done. So home again, my head full of thoughts about our troubles in the office, and so to the office. Wrote to my father this post, and sent him now Colvill’s3927 note for £600 for my sister’s portion, being glad that I shall, I hope, have that business over before I am out of place, and I trust I shall be able to save a little of what I have got, and so shall not be troubled to be at ease; for I am weary of this life. So ends this month, with a great deal of care and trouble in my head about the answerings of the Parliament, and particularly in our payment of seamen by tickets.
March 1667–68
. Up very betimes, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry’s; and there, largely carrying with me all my notes and papers, did run over our whole defence in the business of tickets, in order to the answering the House on Thursday next; and I do think, unless they be set without reason to ruin us, we shall make a good defence. I find him in great anxiety, though he will not discover it, in the business of the proceedings of Parliament; and would as little as is possible have his name mentioned in our discourse to them; and particularly the business of selling places is now upon his hand to defend himself in; wherein I did help him in his defence about the flag-maker’s place, which is named in the House. We did here do the like about the complaint of want of victuals in the fleet in the year 1666, which will lie upon me to defend also. So that my head is full of care and weariness in my employment. Thence home, and there my mind being a little lightened by my morning’s work in the arguments I have now laid together in better method for our defence to the Parliament, I to talk with my wife; and in lieu of a coach this year, I have got my wife to be contented with her closet being made up this summer, and going into the country this summer for a month or two, to my father’s, and there Mercer and Deb. and Jane shall go with her, which I the rather do for the entertaining my wife, and preventing of fallings out between her and my father or Deb., which uses to be the fate of her going into the country. After dinner by coach to Westminster, and there to St. Margaret’s church, thinking to have seen Betty Michell, but she was not there, but met her father and mother and with them to her father’s house, where I never was before, but was mighty much made of, with some good strong waters, which they have from their son Michell, and mighty good people they are. Thence to Mrs. Martin’s, where I have not been also a good while, and with great difficulty, company being there, did get an opportunity to hazer what I would con her, and here I was mightily taken with a starling which she hath, that was the King’s, which he kept in his bedchamber; and do whistle and talk the most and best that ever I heard anything in my life. Thence to visit Sir H. Cholmly, who continues still sick of his cold, and thence calling, but in vain, to speak with Sir G. Carteret at his house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where I spoke with nobody, but home, where spent the evening talking with W. Hewer about business of the House, and declaring my expectation of all our being turned out. Hither comes Carcasse to me about business, and there did confess to me of his own accord his having heretofore discovered as a complaint against Sir W. Batten, Sir W. Penn and me that we did prefer the paying of some men to man The Flying Greyhound to others, by order under our hands. The thing upon recollection I believe is true, and do hope no great matter can be made of it, but yet I would be glad to have my name out of it, which I shall labour to do; in the meantime it weighs as a new trouble on my mind, and did trouble me all night. So without supper to bed, my eyes being also a little overwrought of late that I could not stay up to read.
. Up and betimes to the office, where I did much business, and several come to me, and among others I did prepare Mr. Warren, and by and by Sir D. Gawden, about what presents I have had from them, that they may not publish them, or if they do, that in truth I received none on the account of the Navy but Tangier, and this is true to the former, and in both that I never asked anything of them. I must do the like with the rest. Mr. Moore was with me, and he do tell me, and so W. Hewer tells me, he hears this morning that all the town is full of the discourse that the Officers of the Navy shall be all turned out, but honest Sir John Minnes, who, God knows, is fitter to have been turned out himself than any of us, doing the King more hurt by his dotage and folly than all the rest can do by their knavery, if they had a mind to it. At noon home to dinner, where was Mercer, and very merry as I could be with my mind so full of business, and so with my wife, her and the girl, to the King’s house to see the Virgin Martyr again, which do mightily please me, but above all the music at the coming down of the angel, which at this hearing the second time, do still commend me as nothing ever did, and the other music is nothing to it. Thence with my wife to the ’Change, and so, calling at the Cocke ale house, we home, and there I settle to business, and with my people preparing my great answer to the Parliament for the office about tickets till past 12 o’clock at night, and then home to supper and to bed, keeping Mr. Gibson all night with me. This day I have the news that my sister was married on Thursday last to Mr. Jackson; so that work is, I hope, well over.
. Up betimes to work again, and then met at the Office, where to our great business of this answer to the Parliament; where to my great vexation I find my Lord Brouncker prepared only to excuse himself, while I, that have least reason to trouble myself, am preparing with great pains to defend them all: and more, I perceive, he would lodge the beginning of discharging ships by ticket upon me; but I care not, for I believe I shall get more honour by it when the Parliament, against my will, shall see how the whole business of the Office was done by me. At noon rose and to dinner. My wife abroad with Mercer and Deb. buying of things, but I with my clerks home to dinner, and thence presently down with Lord Brouncker, W. Penn, T. Harvy, T. Middleton, and Mr. Tippets,3928 who first took his place this day at the table, as a Commissioner, in the room of Commissioner Pett. Down by water to Deptford, where the King, Queen, and Court are to see launched the new ship built by Mr. Shish, called The Charles.3929 God send her better luck than the former! Here some of our brethren, who went in a boat a little before my boat, did by appointment take opportunity of asking the King’s leave that we might make full use of the want of money, in our excuse to the Parliament for the business of tickets, and other things they will lay to our charge, all which arose from nothing else: and this the King did readily agree to, and did give us leave to make our full use of it. The ship being well launched, I back again by boat, setting [Sir] T. Middleton and Mr. Tippets on shore at Ratcliff, I home and there to my chamber with Mr. Gibson, and late up till midnight preparing more things against our defence on Thursday next to my content, though vexed that all this trouble should be on me. So to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and with Sir W. Penn in his coach to Whitehall, there to wait upon the Duke of York and the Commissioners of the Treasury, [Sir] W. Coventry and Sir John Duncombe, who do declare that they cannot find the money we demand, and we that less than what we demand will not set out the fleet intended, and so broke up, with no other conclusion than that they would let us have what they could get and we would improve that as well as we could. So God bless us, and prepare us against the consequences of these matters. Thence, it being a cold wet day, I home with Sir J. Minnes in his coach, and called by the way at my bookseller’s and took home with me Kercher’s Musurgia—very well bound, but I had no comfort to look upon them, but as soon as I come home fell to my work at the office, shutting the doors, that we, I and my clerks, might not be interrupted, and so, only with room for a little dinner, we very busy all the day till night that the officers met for me to give them the heads of what I intended to say, which I did with great discontent to see them all rely on me that have no reason at all to trouble myself about it, nor have any thanks from them for my labour, but contrarily Brouncker looked mighty dogged, as thinking that I did not intend to do it so as to save him. This troubled me so much as, together with the shortness of the time and muchness of the business, did let me be at it till but about ten at night, and then quite weary, and dull, and vexed, I could go no further, but resolved to leave the rest to tomorrow morning, and so in full discontent and weariness did give over and went home, with[out] supper vexed and sickish to bed, and there slept about three hours, but then waked, and never in so much trouble in all my life of mind, thinking of the task I have upon me, and upon what dissatisfactory grounds, and what the issue of it may be to me.
. With these thoughts I lay troubling myself till six o’clock, restless, and at last getting my wife to talk to me to comfort me, which she at last did, and made me resolve to quit my hands of this Office, and endure the trouble of it no longer than till I can clear myself of it. So with great trouble, but yet with some ease, from this discourse with my wife, I up, and to my Office, whither come my clerks, and so I did huddle the best I could some more notes for my discourse today, and by nine o’clock was ready, and did go down to the Old Swan, and there by boat, with T. H[ater] and W. H[ewer] with me, to Westminster, where I found myself come time enough, and my brethren all ready. But I full of thoughts and trouble touching the issue of this day; and, to comfort myself, did go to the Dog and drink half-a-pint of mulled sack, and in the Hall [Westminster] did drink a dram of brandy at Mrs. Hewlett’s; and with the warmth of this did find myself in better order as to courage, truly. So we all up to the lobby; and between eleven and twelve o’clock, were called in, with the mace before us, into the House, where a mighty full House; and we stood at the bar, namely, Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, Sir T. Harvey, and myself, W. Penn being in the House, as a Member. I perceive the whole House was full, and full of expectation of our defence what it would be, and with great prejudice. After the Speaker had told us the dissatisfaction of the House, and read the Report of the Committee, I began our defence most acceptably and smoothly, and continued at it without any hesitation or losse, but with full scope, and all my reason free about me, as if it had been at my own table, from that time till past three in the afternoon; and so ended, without any interruption from the Speaker; but we withdrew. And there all my Fellow-Officers, and all the world that was within hearing, did congratulate me, and cry up my speech as the best thing they ever heard; and my Fellow-Officers overjoyed in it; we were called in again by and by to answer only one question, touching our paying tickets to ticket-mongers; and so out; and we were in hopes to have had a vote this day in our favour, and so the generality of the House was; but my speech, being so long, many had gone out to dinner and come in again half drunk; and then there are two or three that are professed enemies to us and everybody else; among others, Sir T. Littleton, Sir Thomas Lee,3930 Mr. Wiles, the coxcomb whom I saw heretofore at the cockfighting, and a few others; I say, these did rise up and speak against the coming to a vote now, the House not being full, by reason of several being at dinner, but most because that the House was to attend the King this afternoon, about the business of religion, wherein they pray him to put in force all the laws against Nonconformists and Papists; and this prevented it, so that they put it off to tomorrow come sennight. However, it is plain we have got great ground; and everybody says I have got the most honour that any could have had opportunity of getting; and so with our hearts mightily overjoyed at this success, we all to dinner to Lord Brouncker’s—that is to say, myself, T. Harvey, and W. Penn, and there dined; and thence with Sir Anthony Morgan, who is an acquaintance of Brouncker’s, a very wise man, we after dinner to the King’s house, and there saw part of The Discontented Colonel, but could take no great pleasure in it, because of our coming in in the middle of it. After the play, home with W. Penn, and there to my wife, whom W. Hewer had told of my success, and she overjoyed, and I also as to my particular; and, after talking awhile, I betimes to bed, having had no quiet rest a good while.
. Up betimes, and with Sir D. Gawden to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber: where the first word he said to me was, “Good-morrow, Mr. Pepys, that must be Speaker of the Parliament-house:” and did protest I had got honour forever in Parliament. He said that his brother,3931 that sat by him, admires me; and another gentleman said that I could not get less than £1,000 a-year if I would put on a gown and plead at the Chancery-bar; but, what pleases me most, he tells me that the Solicitor-General3932 did protest that he thought I spoke the best of any man in England. After several talks with him alone, touching his own businesses, he carried me to Whitehall, and there parted; and I to the Duke of York’s lodgings, and find him going to the Park, it being a very fine morning, and I after him; and, as soon as he saw me, he told me, with great satisfaction, that I had converted a great many yesterday, and did, with great praise of me, go on with the discourse with me. And, by and by, overtaking the King, the King and Duke of York come to me both; and he3933 said, “Mr. Pepys, I am very glad of your success yesterday;” and fell to talk of my well speaking; and many of the Lords there. My Lord Barkeley did cry me up for what they had heard of it; and others, Parliament-men there, about the King, did say that they never heard such a speech in their lives delivered in that manner. Progers, of the Bedchamber, swore to me afterwards before Brouncker, in the afternoon, that he did tell the King that he thought I might teach the Solicitor-General. Everybody that saw me almost come to me, as Joseph Williamson and others, with such eulogies as cannot be expressed. From thence I went to Westminster Hall, where I met Mr. G. Montagu, who come to me and kissed me, and told me that he had often heretofore kissed my hands, but now he would kiss my lips: protesting that I was another Cicero, and said, all the world said the same of me. Mr. Ashburnham, and every creature I met there of the Parliament, or that knew anything of the Parliament’s actings, did salute me with this honour:—Mr. Godolphin;—Mr. Sands, who swore he would go twenty mile, at any time, to hear the like again, and that he never saw so many sit four hours together to hear any man in his life, as there did to hear me; Mr. Chichly—Sir John Duncomb—and everybody do say that the kingdom will ring of my abilities, and that I have done myself right for my whole life: and so Captain Cocke, and others of my friends, say that no man had ever such an opportunity of making his abilities known; and, that I may cite all at once, Mr. Lieutenant of the Tower did tell me that Mr. Vaughan did protest to him, and that, in his hearing it, said so to the Duke of Albemarle, and afterwards to W. Coventry, that he had sat twenty-six years in Parliament and never heard such a speech there before: for which the Lord God make me thankful! and that I may make use of it not to pride and vainglory, but that, now I have this esteem, I may do nothing that may lessen it! I spent the morning thus walking in the Hall, being complimented by everybody with admiration: and at noon stepped into the Leg with Sir William Warren, who was in the Hall, and there talked about a little of his business, and thence into the Hall a little more, and so with him by coach as far as the Temple almost, and there ’light, to follow my Lord Brouncker’s coach, which I spied, and so to Madam Williams’s, where I overtook him, and agreed upon meeting this afternoon, and so home to dinner, and after dinner with W. Penn, who come to my house to call me, to Whitehall, to wait on the Duke of York, where he again and all the company magnified me, and several in the Gallery: among others, my Lord Gerard, who never knew me before nor spoke to me, desires his being better acquainted with me; and [said] that, at table where he was, he never heard so much said of any man as of me, in his whole life. We waited on the Duke of York, and thence into the Gallery, where the House of Lords waited the King’s coming out of the Park, which he did by and by; and there, in the Vane-room, my Lord Keeper delivered a message to the King, the Lords being about him, wherein the Barons of England, from many good arguments, very well expressed in the part he read out of, do demand precedence in England of all noblemen of either of the King’s other two kingdoms, be their title what it will; and did show that they were in England reputed but as Commoners, and sat in the House of Commons, and at conferences with the Lords did stand bare. It was mighty worth my hearing: but the King did only say that he would consider of it, and so dismissed them.3934 Thence Brouncker and I to the Committee of Miscarriages sitting in the Court of Wards, expecting with Sir D. Gawden to have been heard against Prince Rupert’s complaints for want of victuals. But the business of Holmes’s charge against Sir Jer. Smith, which is a most shameful scandalous thing for Flag officers to accuse one another of, and that this should be heard here before men that understand it not at all, and after it hath been examined and judged in before the King and Lord High Admiral and other able seamen to judge, it is very hard. But this business did keep them all the afternoon, so we not heard but put off to another day. Thence, with the Lieutenant of the Tower, in his coach home; and there, with great pleasure, with my wife, talking and playing at cards a little—she, and I, and W. Hewer, and Deb., and so, after a little supper, I to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, at noon home to dinner, where Mercer with us, and after dinner she, my wife, Deb., and I, to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Spanish Gypsies,3935 the second time of acting, and the first that I saw it. A very silly play, only great variety of dances, and those most excellently done, especially one part by one Hanes,3936 only lately come thither from the Nursery, an understanding fellow, but yet, they say, hath spent £1,000 a-year before he come thither. This day my wife and I full of thoughts about Mrs. Pierce’s sending me word that she, and my old company, Harris and Knipp, would come and dine with us next Wednesday, how we should do—to receive or put them off, my head being, at this time, so full of business, and my wife in no mind to have them neither, and yet I desire it. Come to no resolution tonight. Home from the playhouse to the office, where I wrote what I had to write, and among others to my father to congratulate my sister’s marriage, and so home to supper a little and then to bed.
. At my sending to desire it, Sir J. Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, did call me with his coach, and carried me to Whitehall, where met with very many people still that did congratulate my speech the other day in the House of Commons, and I find all the world almost rings of it. Here spent the morning walking and talking with one or other, and among the rest with Sir W. Coventry, who I find full of care in his own business, how to defend himself against those that have a mind to choke him; and though, I believe, not for honour and for the keeping his employment, but for his safety and reputation’s sake, is desirous to preserve himself free from blame, and among other mean ways which himself did take notice to me to be but a mean thing he desires me to get information against Captain Tatnell, thereby to diminish his testimony, who, it seems, hath a mind to do W. Coventry hurt: and I will do it with all my heart; for Tatnell is a very rogue. He would be glad, too, that I could find anything proper for his taking notice against Sir F. Hollis. At noon, after sermon, I to dinner with Sir G. Carteret to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where I find mighty deal of company—a solemn day for some of his and her friends, and dine in the great dining room above stairs, where Sir G. Carteret himself, and I, and his son, at a little table by, the great table being full of strangers. Here my Lady Jem. do promise to come, and bring my Lord Hinchingbroke and his lady some day this week, to dinner to me, which I am glad of. After dinner, I up with her husband, Sir Philip Carteret, to his closet, where, beyond expectation, I do find many pretty things, wherein he appears to be ingenious, such as in painting, and drawing, and making of watches, and such kind of things, above my expectation; though, when all is done, he is a shirke, who owns his owing me £10 for his lady two or three years ago, and yet cannot provide to pay me.3937 The company by and by parted, and G. Carteret and I to Whitehall, where I set him down and took his coach as far as the Temple, it raining, and there took a hackney and home, and so had my head combed, and then to bed.
. Up betimes, and anon with Sir W. Warren, who come to speak with me, by coach to Whitehall, and there met Lord Brouncker: and he and I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, where I find them mighty kind to me, more, I think, than was wont. And here I also met Colvill, the goldsmith; who tells me, with great joy, how the world upon the ’Change talks of me; and how several Parliamentmen, viz., Boscawen3938 and Major [Lionel] Walden, of Huntingdon, who, it seems, do deal with him, do say how bravely I did speak, and that the House was ready to have given me thanks for it; but that, I think, is a vanity. Thence I with Lord Brouncker, and did take up his mistress, Williams, and so to the ’Change, only to show myself, and did a little business there, and so home to dinner, and then to the office busy till the evening, and then to the Excise Office, where I find Mr. Ball in a mighty trouble that he is to be put out of his place at Midsummer, the whole Commission being to cease, and the truth is I think they are very fair dealing men, all of them. Here I did do a little business, and then to rights home, and there dispatched many papers, and so home late to supper and to bed, being eased of a great many thoughts, and yet have a great many more to remove as fast as I can, my mind being burdened with them, having been so much employed upon the public business of the office in their defence before the Parliament of late, and the further cases that do attend it.
. Up, and to the office betimes, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner with my clerks, and after dinner comes Kate Joyce, who tells me she is putting off her house, which I am glad of, but it was pleasant that she come on purpose to me about getting a ticket paid, and in her way hither lost her ticket, so that she is at a great loss what to do. There comes in then Mrs. Mercer, the mother, the first time she has been here since her daughter lived with us, to see my wife, and after a little talk I left them and to the office, and thence with Sir D. Gawden to Westminster Hall, thinking to have attended the Committee about the Victualling business, but they did not meet, but here we met Sir R. Brookes, who do mightily cry up my speech the other day, saying my fellow-officers are obliged to me, as indeed they are. Thence with Sir D. Gawden homewards, calling at Lincolne’s Inn Fields: but my Lady Jemimah was not within: and so to Newgate, where he stopped to give directions to the jaylor about a Knight, one Sir Thomas Halford3939 brought in yesterday for killing one Colonel Temple, falling out at a tavern. So thence as far as Leadenhall, and there I ’light, and back by coach to Lincoln’s Inn Fields; but my Lady was not come in, and so I am at a great loss whether she and her brother Hinchingbroke and sister will dine with me tomorrow or no, which vexes me. So home; and there comes Mr. Moore to me, who tells me that he fears my Lord Sandwich will meet with very great difficulties to go through about the prizes, it being found that he did give orders for more than the King’s letter do justify; and then for the Act of Resumption, which he fears will go on, and is designed only to do him hurt, which troubles me much. He tells me he believes the Parliament will not be brought to do anything in matters of religion, but will adhere to the Bishops. So he gone, I up to supper, where I find W. Joyce and Harman come to see us, and there was also Mrs. Mercer and her two daughters, and here we were as merry as that fellow Joyce could make us with his mad talking, after the old wont, which tired me. But I was mightily pleased with his singing; for the rogue hath a very good ear, and a good voice. Here he stayed till he was almost drunk, and then away at about ten at night, and then all broke up, and I to bed.
. Up, and betimes to the office, where busy till 8 o’clock, and then went forth, and meeting Mr. Colvill, I walked with, him to his building, where he is building a fine house, where he formerly lived, in Lombard Street: and it will be a very fine street. Thence walked down to the Three Cranes and there took boat to Whitehall, where by direction I waited on the Duke of York about office business, and so by water to Westminster, where walking in the Hall most of the morning, and up to my Lady Jem. in Lincoln’s Inn Fields to get her to appoint the day certain when she will come and dine with me, and she hath appointed Saturday next. So back to Westminster; and there still walked, till by and by comes Sir W. Coventry, and with him Mr. Chichly and Mr. Andrew Newport,3940 I to dinner with them to Mr. Chichly’s, in Queen Street, in Covent Garden. A very fine house, and a man that lives in mighty great fashion, with all things in a most extraordinary manner noble and rich about him, and eats in the French fashion all; and mighty nobly served with his servants, and very civilly; that I was mighty pleased with it: and good discourse. He is a great defender of the Church of England, and against the Act for Comprehension, which is the work of this day, about which the House is like to sit till night. After dinner, away with them back to Westminster, where, about four o’clock, the House rises, and hath done nothing more in the business than to put off the debate to this day month. In the meantime the King hath put out his proclamations this day, as the House desired, for the putting in execution the Act against Nonconformists and Papists, but yet it is conceived that for all this some liberty must be given, and people will have it. Here I met with my cousin Roger Pepys, who is come to town, and hath been told of my performance before the House the other day, and is mighty proud of it, and Captain Cocke met me here today, and told me that the Speaker says he never heard such a defence made, in all his life, in the House; and that the Solicitor-General do commend me even to envy. I carried cousin Roger as far as the Strand, where, spying out of the coach Colonel Charles George Cocke, formerly a very great man, and my father’s customer, whom I have carried clothes to, but now walks like a poor sorry sneake, he stopped, and I ’light to him. This man knew me, which I would have willingly avoided, so much pride I had, he being a man of mighty height and authority in his time, but now signifies nothing. Thence home, where to the office a while and then home, where W. Batelier was and played at cards and supped with us, my eyes being out of order for working, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, at noon home, and after dinner with wife and Deb., carried them to Unthanke’s, and I to Westminster Hall expecting our being with the Committee this afternoon about Victualling business, but once more waited in vain. So after a turn or two with Lord Brouncker, I took my wife up and left her at the ’Change while I to Gresham College, there to show myself; and was there greeted by Dr. Wilkins, Whistler, and others, as the patron of the Navy Office, and one that got great fame by my late speech to the Parliament. Here I saw a great trial of the goodness of a burning glass, made of a new figure, not spherical (by one Smithys, I think, they call him), that did burn a glove of my Lord Brouncker’s from the heat of a very little fire, which a burning glass of the old form, or much bigger, could not do, which was mighty pretty. Here I heard Sir Robert Southwell give an account of some things committed to him by the Society at his going to Portugal, which he did deliver in a mighty handsome manner.3941 Thence went away home, and there at my office as long as my eyes would endure, and then home to supper, and to talk with Mr. Pelling, who tells me what a fame I have in the City for my late performance; and upon the whole I bless God for it. I think I have, if I can keep it, done myself a great deal of repute. So by and by to bed.
. Up betimes to my office, where to fit myself for attending the Parliament again, not to make any more speech, which, while my fame is good, I will avoid, for fear of losing it; but only to answer to what objections will be made against us. Thence walked to the Old Swan and drank at Michell’s, whose house is going up apace. Here I saw Betty, but could not baiser la, and so to Westminster, there to the Hall, where up to my cousin Roger Pepys at the Parliament door, and there he took me aside, and told me how he was taken up by one of the House yesterday, for moving for going on with the King’s supply of money, without regard to the keeping pace therewith, with the looking into miscarriages, and was told by this man privately that it did arise because that he had a kinsman concerned therein; and therefore he would prefer the safety of his kinsman to the good of the nation, and that there was great things against us and against me, for all my fine discourse the other day. But I did bid him be at no pain for me; for I knew of nothing but what I was very well prepared to answer; and so I think I am, and therefore was not at all disquieted by this. Thence he to the House, and I to the Hall, where my Lord Brouncker and the rest waiting till noon and not called for by the House, they being upon the business of money again, and at noon all of us to Chatelin’s,3942 the French house in Covent Garden, to dinner—Brouncker, J. Minnes, W. Penn, T. Harvey, and myself—and there had a dinner cost us 8s. 6d. apiece, a damned base dinner, which did not please us at all, so that I am not fond of this house at all, but do rather choose the Beare. After dinner to Whitehall to the Duke of York, and there did our usual business, complaining of our standing still in every-respect for want of money, but no remedy propounded, but so I must still be. Thence with our company to the King’s playhouse, where I left them, and I, my head being full of tomorrow’s dinner, I to my Lord Crew’s, there to invite Sir Thomas Crew; and there met with my Lord Hinchingbroke and his lady, the first time I spoke to her. I saluted her; and she mighty civil: and, with my Lady Jemimah, do all resolve to be very merry tomorrow at my house. My Lady Hinchingbroke I cannot say is a beauty, nor ugly; but is altogether a comely lady enough, and seems very good-humoured, and I mighty glad of the occasion of seeing her before tomorrow. Thence home; and there find one laying of my napkins against tomorrow in figures of all sorts, which is mighty pretty; and, it seems, it is his trade, and he gets much money by it; and do now and then furnish tables with plate and linen for a feast at so much, which is mighty pretty, and a trade I could not have thought of. I find my wife upon the bed not over well, her breast being broke out with heat, which troubles her, but I hope it will be for her good. Thence I to Mrs. Turner, and did get her to go along with me to the French pewterer’s, and there did buy some new pewter against tomorrow; and thence to Whitehall, to have got a cook of her acquaintance, the best in England, as she says. But after we had with much ado found him, he could not come, nor was Mr. Gentleman in town, whom next I would have had, nor would Mrs. Stone let her man Lewis come, whom this man recommended to me; so that I was at a mighty loss what in the world to do for a cook, Philips being out of town. Therefore, after staying here at Westminster a great while, we back to London, and there to Philips’s, and his man directed us to Mr. Levett’s, who could not come, and he sent to two more, and they could not; so that, at last, Levett as a great kindness did resolve he would leave his business and come himself, which set me in great ease in my mind, and so home, and there with my wife setting all things in order against tomorrow, having seen Mrs. Turner at home, and so late to bed.
. Up very betimes, and with Jane to Levett’s, there to conclude upon our dinner; and thence to the pewterer’s, to buy a pewter sesterne,3943 which I have ever hitherto been without, and so up and down upon several occasions to set matters in order, and that being done I out of doors to Westminster Hall, and there met my Lord Brouncker, who tells me that our business is put off till Monday, and so I was mighty glad that I was eased of my attendance here, and of any occasion that might put me out of humour, as it is likely if we had been called before the Parliament. Therefore, after having spoke with Mr. Godolphin and cousin Roger, I away home, and there do find everything in mighty good order, only my wife not dressed, which troubles me. Anon comes my company, viz., my Lord Hinchingbroke and his lady, Sir Philip Carteret and his lady, Godolphin and my cousin Roger, and Creed: and mighty merry; and by and by to dinner, which was very good and plentiful: (I should have said, and Mr. George Montagu), who come at a very little warning, which was exceeding kind of him. And there, among other things, my Lord had Sir Samuel Morland’s late invention for casting up of sums of £ s. d.;3944 which is very pretty, but not very useful. Most of our discourse was of my Lord Sandwich and his family, as being all of us of the family; and with extraordinary pleasure all the afternoon, thus together eating and looking over my closet: and my Lady Hinchingbroke I find a very sweet-natured and well-disposed lady, a lover of books and pictures, and of good understanding. About five o’clock they went; and then my wife and I abroad by coach into Moorefields, only for a little air, and so home again, staying nowhere, and then up to her chamber, there to talk with pleasure of this day’s passages, and so to bed. This day I had the welcome news of our prize being come safe from Holland, so as I shall have hopes, I hope, of getting my money of my Lady Batten, or good part of it.
. Up and walked, it being fine dry weather, to Sir W. Coventry’s, overtaking my boy Ely3945 (that was), and he walked with me, being grown a man, and I think a sober fellow. He parted at Charing Cross, and I to Sir W. Coventry’s, and there talked with him about the Commissioners of Accounts, who did give in their report yesterday to the House, and do lay little upon us as aggravate anything at present, but only do give an account of the dissatisfactory account they receive from Sir G. Carteret, which I am sorry for, they saying that he tells them not any time when he paid any sum, which is fit for them to know for the computing of interest, but I fear he is hardly able to tell it. They promise to give them an account of the embezzlement of prizes, wherein I shall be something concerned, but nothing that I am afeard of, I thank God. Thence walked with W. Coventry into the Park, and there met the King and the Duke of York, and walked a good while with them: and here met Sir Jer. Smith, who tells me he is like to get the better of Holmes, and that when he is come to an end of that, he will do Hollis’s business for him, in the House, for his blasphemies, which I shall be glad of. So to Whitehall, and there walked with this man and that man till chapel done, and, the King dined and then Sir Thomas Clifford, the Comptroller,3946 took me with him to dinner to his lodgings, where my Lord Arlington and a great deal of good and great company; where I very civilly used by them, and had a most excellent dinner: and good discourse of Spain, Mr. Godolphin being there; particularly of the removal of the bodies of all the dead Kings of Spain that could be got together, and brought to the Pantheon3947 at the Escuriall, when it was finished, and there placed before the altar, there to lie forever; and there was a sermon made to them upon this text, “Arida ossa, audite verbum Dei;”3948 and a most eloquent sermon, as they say, who say they have read it. After dinner, away hence, and I to Mrs. Martin’s, and there spent the afternoon, and did hazer con elle, and here was her sister and Mrs. Burrows, and so in the evening got a coach and home, and there find Mr. Pelling and W. Hewer, and there talked and supped, Pelting being gone, and mightily pleased with a picture that W. Hewer brought hither of several things painted upon a deal board, which board is so well painted that in my whole life I never was so well pleased or surprised with any picture, and so troubled that so good pictures should be painted upon a piece of bad deal. Even after I knew that it was not board, but only the picture of a board, I could not remove my fancy. After supper to bed, being very sleepy, and, I bless God, my mind being at very good present rest.
. Up, to set my papers and books in order, and put up my plate since my late feast, and then to Westminster, by water, with Mr. Hater, and there, in the Hall, did walk all the morning, talking with one or other, expecting to have our business in the House; but did now a third time wait to no purpose, they being all this morning upon the business of Barker’s petition about the making void the Act of Settlement in Ireland, which makes a great deal of hot work: and, at last, finding that by all men’s opinion they could not come to our matter today, I with Sir W. Penn home, and there to dinner, where I find, by Willet’s crying, that her mistress had been angry with her: but I would take no notice of it. Busy all the afternoon at the office, and then by coach to the Excise Office, but lost my labour, there being nobody there, and so back again home, and after a little at the office I home, and there spent the evening with my wife talking and singing, and so to bed with my mind pretty well at ease. This evening W. Penn and Sir R. Ford and I met at the first’s house to talk of our prize that is now at last come safe over from Holland, by which I hope to receive some if not all the benefit of my bargain with W. Batten for my share in it, which if she had miscarried I should have doubted of my Lady Batten being left little able to have paid me.
. Up betimes and to the office, where all the morning busy, and then at noon home to dinner, and so again to the office awhile, and then abroad to the Excise Office, where I met Mr. Ball,3949 and did receive the paper I went for; and there fell in talk with him, who, being an old cavalier, do swear and curse at the present state of things, that we should be brought to this, that we must be undone and cannot be saved; that the Parliament is sitting now, and will till midnight, to find how to raise this £300,000, and he doubts they will not do it so as to be seasonable for the King: but do cry out against our great men at Court; how it is a fine thing for a Secretary of State to dance a jig, and that it was not so heretofore; and, above all, do curse my Lord of Bristoll, saying the worst news that ever he heard in his life, or that the Devil could ever bring us, was this Lord’s coming to prayers the other day in the House of Lords, by which he is coming about again from being a Papist, which will undo this nation; and he says he ever did say, at the King’s first coming in, that this nation could not be safe while that man was alive. Having done there, I away towards Westminster, but seeing by the coaches the House to be up, I stopped at the ’Change (where, I met Mrs. Turner, and did give her a pair of gloves), and there bought several things for my wife, and so to my bookseller’s, and there looked for Montaigne’s Essays,3950 which I heard by my Lord Arlington and Lord Blaney so much commended, and intend to buy it, but did not now, but home, where at the office did some business, as much as my eyes would give leave, and so home to supper, Mercer with us talking and singing, and so to bed. The House, I hear, have this day concluded upon raising £100,000 of the £300,000 by wine, and the rest by a poll-[tax], and have resolved to excuse the Church, in expectation that they will do the more of themselves at this juncture; and I do hear that Sir W. Coventry did make a speech in behalf of the Clergy.
. Up betimes to Westminster, where met with cousin Roger and Creed and walked with them, and Roger do still continue of the mind that there is no other way of saving this nation but by dissolving this Parliament and calling another; but there are so many about the King that will not be able to stand, if a new Parliament come, that they will not persuade the King to it. I spent most of the morning walking with one or other, and anon met Doll Lane at the Dog tavern, and there je did hater what I did desire with her … and I did give her as being my valentine 20s. to buy what elle would. Thence away by coach to my bookseller’s, and to several places to pay my debts, and to Ducke Lane, and there bought Montaigne’s Essays, in English, and so away home to dinner, and after dinner with W. Penn to Whitehall, where we and my Lord Brouncker attended the Council, to discourse about the fitness of entering of men presently for the manning of the fleet, before one ship is in condition to receive them. W. Coventry did argue against it: I was wholly silent, because I saw the King, upon the earnestness of the Prince, was willing to it, crying very sillily, “If ever you intend to man the fleet, without being cheated by the captains and pursers, you may go to bed, and resolve never to have it manned;” and so it was, like other things, overruled that all volunteers should be presently entered. Then there was another great business about our signing of certificates to the Exchequer for [prize] goods, upon the £1,250,000 Act, which the Commissioners of the Treasury did all oppose, and to the laying fault upon us. But I did then speak to the justifying what we had done, even to the angering of Duncomb and Clifford, which I was vexed at: but, for all that, I did set the Office and myself right, and went away with the victory, my Lord Keeper saying that he would not advise the Council to order us to sign no more certificates. But, before I began to say anything in this matter, the King and the Duke of York talking at the Council-table, before all the Lords, of the Committee of Miscarriages, how this entering of men before the ships could be ready would be reckoned a miscarriage; “Why,” says the King, “it is then but Mr. Pepys making of another speech to them;” which made all the Lords, and there were by also the Attorney and Solicitor-General, look upon me. Thence Sir W. Coventry, W. Penn and I, by hackney-coach to take a little air in Hyde Park, the first time I have been there this year; and we did meet many coaches going and coming, it being mighty pleasant weather; and so, coming back again, I ’light in the Pell Mell; and there went to see Sir H. Cholmly, who continues very ill of his cold. And there come in Sir H. Yelverton, whom Sir H. Cholmly commended me to his acquaintance, which the other received, but without remembering to me, or I him, of our being schoolfellows together; and I said nothing of it. But he took notice of my speech the other day at the bar of the House; and indeed I perceive he is a wise man by his manner of discourse, and here he do say that the town is full of it, that now the Parliament hath resolved upon £300,000, the King, instead of fifty, will set out but twenty-five ships, and the Dutch as many; and that Smith is to command them, who is allowed to have the better of Holmes in the late dispute, and is in good esteem in the Parliament, above the other. Thence home, and there, in favour to my eyes, stayed at home, reading the ridiculous History of my Lord Newcastle,3951 wrote by his wife, which shows her to be a mad, conceited, ridiculous woman, and he an asse to suffer her to write what she writes to him, and of him. Betty Turner sent my wife the book to read, and it being a fair print, to ease my eyes, which would be reading, I read that. Anon comes Mrs. Turner and sat and talked with us, and most about the business of Ackworth,3952 which comes before us tomorrow, that I would favour it, but I do not think, notwithstanding all the friendship I can show him, that he can escape, and therefore it had been better that he had followed the advice I sent him the other day by Mrs. Turner, to make up the business. So parted, and I to bed, my eyes being very bad; and I know not how in the world to abstain from reading.
. Up, and betimes to the Old Swan, and by water to Whitehall, and thence to W. Coventry’s, where stayed but a little to talk with him, and thence by water back again, it being a mighty fine, clear spring morning. Back to the Old Swan, and drank at Michell’s, whose house goes up apace, but I could not see Betty, and thence walked all along Thames Street, which I have not done since it was burned, as far as Billingsgate; and there do see a brave street likely to be, many brave houses being built, and of them a great many by Mr. Jaggard; but the raising of the street will make it mighty fine. So to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence to the office, very busy till five o’clock, and then to ease my eyes I took my wife out and Deb. to the ’Change, and there bought them some things, and so home again and to the office, ended my letters, and so home to read a little more in last night’s book, with much sport, it being a foolish book, and so to supper and to bed. This afternoon I was surprised with a letter without a name to it, very well writ, in a good stile, giving me notice of my cousin Kate Joyce’s being likely to ruin herself by marriage, and by ill reports already abroad of her, and I do fear that this keeping of an inne may spoil her, being a young and pretty comely woman, and thought to be left well. I did answer the letter with thanks and good liking, and am resolved to take the advice he gives me, and go see her, and find out what I can: but if she will ruin herself, I cannot help it, though I should be troubled for it.
. Up betimes, and to my Office, where we had a meeting extraordinary to consider of several things, among others the sum of money fit to be demanded ready money, to enable us to set out 27 ships, everybody being now in pain for a fleet, and everybody endeavouring to excuse themselves for the not setting out of one, and our true excuse is lack of money. At it all the morning, and so at noon home to dinner with my clerks, my wife and Deb. being busy at work above in her chamber getting things ready and fine for her going into the country a week or two hence. I away by coach to Whitehall, where we met to wait on the Duke of York, and, soon as prayers were done, it being Good Friday, he come to us, and we did a little business and presented him with our demand of money, and so broke up, and I thence by coach to Kate Joyce’s, being desirous and in pain to speak with her about the business that I received a letter yesterday, but had no opportunity of speaking with her about it, company being with her, so I only invited her to come and dine with me on Sunday next, and so away home, and for saving my eyes at my chamber all the evening pricking down some things, and trying some conclusions upon my viol, in order to the inventing a better theory of music than hath yet been abroad; and I think verily I shall do it. So to supper with my wife, who is in very good humour with her working, and so am I, and so to bed. This day at Court I do hear that Sir W. Penn do command this summer’s fleet; and Mr. Progers of the Bedchamber, as a secret, told me that the Prince Rupert is troubled at it, and several friends of his have been with him to know the reason of it; so that he do pity Sir W. Penn, whom he hath great kindness for, that he should not at any desire of his be put to this service, and thereby make the Prince his enemy, and contract more envy from other people. But I am not a whit sorry if it should be so, first for the King’s sake, that his work will be better done by Sir W. Penn than the Prince, and next that Penn, who is a false rogue, may be bit a little by it.
. Up betimes to the office, and there we sat all the morning, at noon home with my clerks, a good dinner, and then to the Office, and wrote my letters, and then abroad to do several things, and pay what little scores I had, and among others to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did give 20s. to Mrs. Cragg, her landlady, who was my Valentine in the house, as well as Doll Lane. … So home and to the office, there to end my letters, and so home, where Betty Turner was to see my wife, and she being gone I to my chamber to read a little again, and then after supper to bed.
. I up, and walked to the Temple, and there got a coach, and to Whitehall, where spoke with several people, and find by all that Penn is to go to sea this year with this fleet; and they excuse the Prince’s going, by saying it is not a command great enough for him. Here I met with Brisband, and, after hearing the service at the King’s chapel, where I heard the Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Reynolds,3953 the old presbyterian, begin a very plain sermon, he and I to the Queen’s chapel, and there did hear the Italians sing; and indeed their music did appear most admirable to me, beyond anything of ours: I was never so well satisfied in my life with it. So back to Whitehall, and there met Mr. Pierce, and adjusted together how we should spend tomorrow together, and so by coach I home to dinner, where Kate Joyce was, as I invited her, and had a good dinner, only she and us; and after dinner she and I alone to talk about her business, as I designed; and I find her very discreet, and she assures me she neither do nor will incline to the doing anything towards marriage, without my advice, and did tell me that she had many offers, and that Harman and his friends would fain have her; but he is poor, and hath poor friends, and so it will not be advisable: but that there is another, a tobacconist, one Holinshed, whom she speaks well of, to be a plain, sober man, and in good condition, that offers her very well, and submits to me my examining and inquiring after it, if I see good, which I do like of it, for it will be best for her to marry, I think, as soon as she can—at least, to be rid of this house; for the trade will not agree with a young widow, that is a little handsome, at least ordinary people think her so. Being well satisfied with her answer, she anon went away, and I to my closet to make a few more experiments of my notions in music, and so then my wife and I to walk in the garden, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and after discoursing with my wife about many things touching this day’s dinner, I abroad, and first to the tavern to pay what I owe there, but missed of seeing the mistress of the house, and there bespoke wine for dinner, and so away thence, and to Bishopsgate Street, thinking to have found a Harpsicon-maker that used to live there before the fire, but he is gone, and I have a mind forthwith to have a little Harpsicon made me to confirm and help me in my music notions, which my head is nowadays full of, and I do believe will come to something that is very good. Thence to Whitehall, expecting to have heard the Bishop of Lincolne, my friend, preach, for so I understood he would do yesterday, but was mistaken, and therefore away presently back again, and there find everything in good order against dinner, and at noon come Mr. Pierce and she, and Mrs. Manuel, the Jew’s wife, and Mrs. Corbet, and Mrs. Pierce’s boy and girl. But we are defeated of Knepp, by her being forced to act today, and also of Harris, which did trouble me, they being my chief guests. However, I had an extraordinary good dinner, and the better because dressed by my own servants, and were mighty merry; and here was Mr. Pelling by chance come and dined with me; and after sitting long at dinner, I had a barge ready at Tower-wharf, to take us in, and so we went, all of us, up as high as Barne-Elms, a very fine day, and all the way sang; and Mrs. Manuel sings very finely, and is a mighty discreet, sober-carriaged woman, that both my wife and I are mightily taken with her, and sings well, and without importunity or the contrary. At Barne-Elms we walked round, and then to the barge again, and had much merry talk, and good singing; and come before it was dark to the New Exchange stairs, and there landed, and walked up to Mrs. Pierce’s, where we sat awhile, and then up to their dining room. And so, having a violin and theorbo, did fall to dance, here being also Mrs. Floyd come hither, and by and by Mr. Harris. But there being so few of us that could dance, and my wife not being very well, we had not much pleasure in the dancing: there was Knepp also, by which with much pleasure we did sing a little, and so, about ten o’clock, I took coach with my wife and Deb., and so home, and there to bed.
. Up pretty betimes, and so there comes to me Mr. Shish, to desire my appearing for him to succeed Mr. Christopher Pett,3954 lately dead, in his place of Master-Shipwright of Deptford and Woolwich, which I do resolve to promote what I can. So by and by to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York’s chamber, where I understand it is already resolved by the King and Duke of York that Shish shall have the place. From the Duke’s chamber Sir W. Coventry and I to walk in the Matted Gallery; and there, among other things, he tells me of the wicked design that now is at last contriving against him, to get a petition presented from people that the money they have paid to W. Coventry for their places may be repaid them back; and that this is set on by Temple and Hollis of the Parliament, and, among other mean people in it, by Captain Tatnell: and he prays me that I will use some effectual way to sift Tatnell what he do, and who puts him on in this business, which I do undertake, and will do with all my skill for his service, being troubled that he is still under this difficulty. Thence up and down Westminster by Mrs. Burroughes her mother’s shop, thinking to have seen her, but could not, and therefore back to Whitehall, where great talk of the tumult at the other end of the town, about Moore-fields, among the ’prentices, taking the liberty of these holydays to pull down bawdyhouses.3955 And, Lord! to see the apprehensions which this did give to all people at Court, that presently order was given for all the soldiers, horse and foot, to be in armes! and forthwith alarmes were beat by drum and trumpet through Westminster, and all to their colours, and to horse, as if the French were coming into the town! So Creed, whom I met here, and I to Lincolne’s Inn-fields, thinking to have gone into the fields to have seen the ’prentices; but here we found these fields full of soldiers all in a body, and my Lord Craven commanding of them, and riding up and down to give orders, like a madman. And some young men we saw brought by soldiers to the Guard at Whitehall, and overheard others that stood by say, that it was only for pulling down the bawdyhouses; and none of the bystanders finding fault with them, but rather of the soldiers for hindering them. And we heard a justice of the Peace this morning say to the King, that he had been endeavouring to suppress this tumult, but could not; and that, imprisoning some [of them] in the new prison at Clerkenwell,3956 the rest did come and break open the prison and release them; and that they do give out that they are for pulling down the bawdyhouses, which is one of the greatest grievances of the nation. To which the King made a very poor, cold, insipid answer: “Why, why do they go to them, then?” and that was all, and had no mind to go on with the discourse. Mr. Creed and I to dinner to my Lord Crew, where little discourse, there being none but us at the table, and my Lord and my Lady Jemimah, and so after dinner away, Creed and I to Whitehall, expecting a Committee of Tangier, but come too late. So I to attend the Council, and by and by were called in with Lord Brouncker and Sir W. Penn to advise how to pay away a little money to most advantage to the men of the yards, to make them dispatch the ships going out, and there did make a little speech, which was well liked, and after all it was found most satisfactory to the men, and best for the king’s dispatch, that what money we had should be paid weekly to the men for their week’s work until a greater sum could be got to pay them their arrears and then discharge them. But, Lord! to see what shifts and what cares and thoughts there was employed in this matter how to do the King’s work and please the men and stop clamours would make a man think the King should not eat a bit of good meat till he has got money to pay the men, but I do not see the least print of care or thoughts in him about it at all. Having done here, I out and there met Sir Fr. Hollis, who do still tell me that, above all things in the world, he wishes he had my tongue in his mouth, meaning since my speech in Parliament. He took Lord Brouncker and me down to the guards, he and his company being upon the guards today; and there he did, in a handsome room to that purpose, make us drink, and did call for his bagpipes, which, with pipes of ebony, tipped with silver, he did play beyond anything of that kind that ever I heard in my life; and with great pains he must have obtained it, but with pains that the instrument do not deserve at all; for, at the best, it is mighty barbarous music. So home and there to my chamber, to prick out my song, “It is Decreed,” intending to have it ready to give Mr. Harris on Thursday, when we meet, for him to sing, believing that he will do it more right than a woman that sings better, unless it were Knepp, which I cannot have opportunity to teach it to. This evening I come home from Whitehall with Sir W. Penn, who fell in talk about his going to sea this year, and the difficulties that arise to him by it, by giving offence to the Prince, and occasioning envy to him, and many other things that make it a bad matter, at this time of want of money and necessaries, and bad and uneven counsels at home—for him to go abroad: and did tell me how much with the King and Duke of York he had endeavoured to be excused, desiring the Prince might be satisfied in it, who hath a mind to go; but he tells me they will not excuse him, and I believe it, and truly do judge it a piece of bad fortune to W. Penn.
. Up, and walked to Whitehall, there to wait on the Duke of York, which I did: and in his chamber there, first by hearing the Duke of York call me by my name, my Lord Burlington did come to me, and with great respect take notice of me and my relation to my Lord Sandwich,3957 and express great kindness to me; and so to talk of my Lord Sandwich’s concernments. By and by the Duke of York is ready; and I did wait for an opportunity of speaking my mind to him about Sir J. Minnes, his being unable to do the King any service, which I think do become me to do in all respects, and have Sir W. Coventry’s concurrence therein, which I therefore will seek a speedy opportunity to do, come what will come of it. The Duke of York and all with him this morning were full of the talk of the ’prentices, who are not yet [put] down, though the guards and militia of the town have been in armes all this night, and the night before; and the ’prentices have made fools of them, sometimes by running from them and flinging stones at them. Some blood hath been spilt, but a great many houses pulled down; and, among others, the Duke of York was mighty merry at that of Damaris Page’s, the great bawd of the seamen; and the Duke of York complained merrily that he hath lost two tenants, by their houses being pulled down, who paid him for their wine licenses £15 a year. But here it was said how these idle fellows have had the confidence to say that they did ill in contenting themselves in pulling down the little bawdyhouses, and did not go and pull down the great bawdyhouse at Whitehall. And some of them have the last night had a word among them, and it was “Reformation and Reducement.” This do make the courtiers ill at ease to see this spirit among people, though they think this matter will not come to much: but it speaks people’s minds; and then they do say that there are men of understanding among them, that have been of Cromwell’s army: but how true that is, I know not. Thence walked a little to Westminster, but met with nobody to spend any time with, and so by coach homeward, and in Seething Lane met young Mrs. Daniel, and I stopped, and she had been at my house, but found nobody within, and tells me that she drew me for her Valentine this year, so I took her into the coach, and was going to the other end of the town, thinking to have taken her abroad, but remembering that I was to go out with my wife this afternoon, … and so to a milliner at the corner shop going into Bishopsgate and Leadenhall Street, and there did give her eight pair of gloves, and so dismissed her, and so I home and to dinner, and then with my wife to the King’s playhouse to see The Storme, which we did, but without much pleasure, it being but a mean play compared with The Tempest, at the Duke of York’s house, though Knepp did act her part of grief very well. Thence with my wife and Deb. by coach to Islington, to the old house, and there eat and drank till it was almost night, and then home, being in fear of meeting the ’prentices, who are many of them yet, they say, abroad in the fields, but we got well home, and so I to my chamber a while, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes to the office, where by and by my Lord Brouncker and I met and made an end of our business betimes. So I away with him to Mrs. Williams’s, and there dined, and thence I alone to the Duke of York’s house, to see the new play, called The Man Is the Master,3958 where the house was, it being not above one o’clock, very full. But my wife and Deb. being there before, with Mrs. Pierce and Corbet and Betty Turner, whom my wife carried with her, they made me room; and there I sat, it costing me 8s. upon them in oranges, at 6d. apiece. By and by the King come; and we sat just under him, so that I durst not turn my back all the play. The play is a translation out of French, and the plot Spanish, but not anything extraordinary at all in it, though translated by Sir W. Davenant, and so I found the King and his company did think meanly of it, though there was here and there something pretty: but the most of the mirth was sorry, poor stuff, of eating of sack posset and slabbering themselves, and mirth fit for clowns; the prologue but poor, and the epilogue little in it but the extraordinariness of it, it being sung by Harris and another3959 in the form of a ballet. Thence, by agreement, we all of us to the Blue Balls, hard by, whither Mr. Pierce also goes with us, who met us at the play, and anon comes Manuel, and his wife, and Knepp, and Harris, who brings with him Mr. Banister, the great master of music; and after much difficulty in getting of music, we to dancing, and then to a supper of some French dishes, which yet did not please me, and then to dance and sing; and mighty merry we were till about eleven or twelve at night, with mighty great content in all my company, and I did, as I love to do, enjoy myself in my pleasure as being the height of what we take pains for and can hope for in this world, and therefore to be enjoyed while we are young and capable of these joys. My wife extraordinary fine today, in her flower tabby suit, bought a year and more ago, before my mother’s death put her into mourning, and so not worn till this day: and everybody in love with it; and indeed she is very fine and handsome in it. I having paid the reckoning, which come to almost £4, we parted: my company and William Batelier, who was also with us, home in a coach, round by the Wall, where we met so many stops by the Watches, that it cost us much time and some trouble, and more money, to every Watch, to them to drink; this being increased by the trouble the ’prentices did lately give the City, so that the Militia and Watches are very strict at this time; and we had like to have met with a stop for all night at the Constable’s watch, at Mooregate, by a pragmatical Constable; but we come well home at about two in the morning, and so to bed. This noon, from Mrs. Williams’s, my Lord Brouncker sent to Somersett House to hear how the Duchess of Richmond do; and word was brought him that she is pretty well, but mighty full of the smallpox, by which all do conclude she will be wholly spoiled, which is the greatest instance of the uncertainty of beauty that could be in this age; but then she hath had the benefit of it to be first married, and to have kept it so long, under the greatest temptations in the world from a King, and yet without the least imputation. This afternoon, at the play, Sir Fr. Hollis spoke to me as a secret, and matter of confidence in me, and friendship to Sir W. Penn, who is now out of town, that it were well he were made acquainted that he finds in the House of Commons, which met this day, several motions made for the calling strictly again upon the Miscarriages, and particularly in the business of the Prises, and the not prosecuting of the first victory, only to give an affront to Sir W. Penn, whose going to sea this year do give them matter of great dislike. So though I do not much trouble myself for him, yet I am sorry that he should have this fall so unhappily without any fault, but rather merit of his own that made him fitter for this command than anybody else, and the more for that this business of his may haply occasion their more eager pursuit against the whole body of the office.
. Up, and walked to the waterside, and thence to Whitehall to the Duke of York’s chamber, where he being ready he went to a Committee of Tangier, where I first understand that my Lord Sandwich is, in his coming back from Spain, to step over thither, to see in what condition the place is, which I am glad of, hoping that he will be able to do some good there, for the good of the place, which is so much out of order. Thence to walk a little in Westminster Hall, where the Parliament I find sitting, but spoke with nobody to let me know what they are doing, nor did I enquire. Thence to the Swan and drank, and did baiser Frank, and so down by water back again, and to the Exchange a turn or two, only to show myself, and then home to dinner, where my wife and I had a small squabble, but I first this day tried the effect of my silence and not provoking her when she is in an ill humour, and do find it very good, for it prevents its coming to that height on both sides which used to exceed what was fit between us. So she become calm by and by and fond, and so took coach, and she to the mercer’s to buy some lace, while I to Whitehall, but did nothing, but then to Westminster Hall and took a turn, and so to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did sit a little and talk and drink, and did hazer con her, and so took coach and called my wife at Unthanke’s, and so up and down to the Nursery, where they did not act, then to the New Cockpit, and there missed, and then to Hide Park, where many coaches, but the dust so great, that it was troublesome, and so by night home, where to my chamber and finished my pricking out of my song for Mr. Harris (“It is decreed”), and so a little supper, being very sleepy and weary since last night, and so by 10 o’clock to bed and slept well all night. This day, at noon, comes Mr. Pelling to me, and shows me the stone cut lately out of Sir Thomas Adams3960 (the old comely Alderman’s) body, which is very large indeed, bigger I think than my fist, and weighs above twenty-five ounces and, which is very miraculous, he never in all his life had any fit of it, but lived to a great age without pain, and died at last of something else, without any sense of this in all his life. This day Creed at Whitehall in discourse told me what information he hath had, from very good hands, of the cowardice and ill-government of Sir Jer. Smith and Sir Thomas Allen, and the repute they have both of them abroad in the Streights, from their deportment when they did at several times command there; and that, above all Englishmen that ever were there, there never was any man that behaved himself like poor Charles Wager, whom the very Moores do mention, with teares sometimes.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy, and at noon home to dinner with my clerks; and though my head full of business, yet I had a desire to end this holyday week with a play; and so, with my wife and Deb., to the King’s house, and there saw The Indian Emperour, a very good play indeed, and thence directly home, and to my writing of my letters, and so home to supper and to bed for fearing my eyes. Our greatest business at the office today is our want of money for the setting forth of these ships that are to go out, and my people at dinner tell me that they do verily doubt that the want of men will be so great, as we must press; and if we press, there will be mutinies in the town; for the seamen are said already to have threatened the pulling down of the Treasury Office; and if they do once come to that, it will not be long before they come to ours.
. Up, and I to Church, where I have not been these many weeks before, and there did first find a strange Reader, who could not find in the Service-book the place for churching women, but was fain to change books with the clerke: and then a stranger preached, a seeming able man; but said in his pulpit that God did a greater work in raising of an oak-tree from an acorn, than a man’s body raising it, at the last day, from his dust (showing the possibility of the Resurrection): which was, methought, a strange saying. At home to dinner, whither comes and dines with me W. Howe, and by invitation Mr. Harris and Mr. Banister, most extraordinary company both, the latter for music of all sorts, the former for everything: here we sang, and Banister played on the theorbo, and afterwards Banister played on his flageolet, and I had very good discourse with him about music, so confirming some of my new notions about music that it puts me upon a resolution to go on and make a scheme and theory of music not yet ever made in the world. Harris do so commend my wife’s picture of Mr. Hales’s, that I shall have him draw Harris’s head; and he hath also persuaded me to have Cooper draw my wife’s, which, though it cost £30, yet I will have done. Thus spent the afternoon most deliciously, and then broke up and walked with them as far as the Temple, and there parted, and I took coach to Westminster, but there did nothing, meeting nobody that I had a mind to speak with, and so home, and there find Mr. Pelling, and then also comes Mrs. Turner, and supped and talked with us, and so to bed. I do hear by several that Sir W. Penn’s going to sea do dislike the Parliament mightily, and that they have revived the Committee of Miscarriages to find something to prevent it; and that he being the other day with the Duke of Albemarle to ask his opinion touching his going to sea, the Duchess overheard and come in to him, and asks W. Penn how he durst have the confidence to offer to go to sea again, to the endangering the nation, when he knew himself such a coward as he was, which, if true, is very severe.
. Up betimes, and so to the office, there to do business till about 10 o’clock, and then out with my wife and Deb. and W. Hewer by coach to Common-garden Coffeehouse, where by appointment I was to meet Harris; which I did, and also Mr. Cooper, the great painter, and Mr. Hales: and thence presently to Mr. Cooper’s house,3961 to see some of his work, which is all in little, but so excellent as, though I must confess I do think the colouring of the flesh to be a little forced, yet the painting is so extraordinary, as I do never expect to see the like again. Here I did see Mrs. Stewart’s3962 picture as when a young maid, and now just done before her having the smallpox: and it would make a man weep to see what she was then, and what she is like to be, by people’s discourse, now. Here I saw my Lord General’s picture, and my Lord Arlington and Ashly’s, and several others; but among the rest one Swinfen, that was Secretary to my Lord Manchester, Lord Chamberlain, with Cooling, done so admirably as I never saw anything: but the misery was, this fellow died in debt, and never paid Cooper for his picture; but, it being seized on by his creditors, among his other goods, after his death, Cooper himself says that he did buy it, and give £25 out of his purse for it, for what he was to have had but £30. Being infinitely satisfied with this sight, and resolving that my wife shall be drawn by him when she comes out of the country, I away with Harris and Hales to the Coffeehouse, sending my people away, and there resolve for Hales to begin Harris’s head for me, which I will be at the cost of. After a little talk, I away to Whitehall and Westminster, where I find the Parliament still bogling about the raising of this money: and everybody’s mouth full now; and Mr. Wren himself tells me that the Duke of York declares to go to sea himself this year; and I perceive it is only on this occasion of distaste of the Parliament against W. Penn’s going, and to prevent the Prince’s: but I think it is mighty hot counsel for the Duke of York at this time to go out of the way; but, Lord! what a pass are all our matters come to! At noon by appointment to Cursitor’s Alley, in Chancery Lane, to meet Captain Cocke and some other creditors of the Navy, and their Counsel, Pemberton, North,3963 Offly, and Charles Porter; and there dined, and talked of the business of the assignments on the Exchequer of the £1,250,000 on behalf of our creditors; and there I do perceive that the Counsel had heard of my performance in the Parliamenthouse lately, and did value me and what I said accordingly. At dinner we had a great deal of good discourse about Parliament: their number being uncertain, and always at the will of the King to increase, as he saw reason to erect a new borough. But all concluded that the bane of the Parliament hath been the leaving off the old custom of the places allowing wages to those that served them in Parliament, by which they chose men that understood their business and would attend it, and they could expect an account from, which now they cannot; and so the Parliament is become a company of men unable to give account for the interest of the place they serve for. Thence, the meeting of the Counsel with the King’s Counsel this afternoon being put off by reason of the death of Serjeant Maynard’s lady,3964 I to Whitehall, where the Parliament was to wait on the King; and they did: and it was to be told that he did think fit to tell them that they might expect to be adjourned at Whitsuntide, and that they might make haste to raise their money; but this, I fear, will displease them, who did expect to sit as long as they pleased, and whether this be done by the King upon some new counsel I know not, for the King must be beholding to them till they do settle this business of money. Great talk today as if Beaufort3965 was come into the Channel with about 20 ships, and it makes people apprehensive, but yet the Parliament do not stir a bit faster in the business of money. Here I met with Creed, expecting a Committee of Tangier, but the Committee met not, so he and I up and down, having nothing to do, and particularly to the New Cockpit by the King’s Gate in Holborne, but seeing a great deal of rabble we did refuse to go in, but took coach and to Hide Park, and there till all the tour3966 was empty, and so he and I to the Lodge in the Park, and there eat and drank till it was night, and then carried him to Whitehall, having had abundance of excellent talk with him in reproach of the times and managements we live under, and so I home, and there to talk and to supper with my wife, and so to bed.
. Up pretty betimes and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I home to dinner, where uncle Thomas dined with me, as he do every quarter, and I paid him his pension; and also comes Mr. Hollier a little fuddled, and so did talk nothing but Latin, and laugh, that it was very good sport to see a sober man in such a humour, though he was not drunk to scandal. At dinner comes a summons for this office and the Victualler to attend a Committee of Parliament this afternoon, with Sir D. Gawden, which I accordingly did, with my papers relating to the sending of victuals to Sir John Harman’s fleet; and there, Sir R. Brookes in the chair, we did give them a full account, but, Lord! to see how full they are and immoveable in their jealousy that some means are used to keep Harman from coming home, for they have an implacable desire to know the bottom of the not improving the first victory, and would lay it upon Brouncker. Having given them good satisfaction I away thence, up and down, wanting a little to see whether I could get Mrs. Burroughes out, but elle being in the shop ego did speak con her much, she could not then go far, and so I took coach and away to Unthanke’s, and there took up my wife and Deb., and to the Park, where, being in a hackney, and they undressed, was ashamed to go into the tour, but went round the park, and so with pleasure home, where Mr. Pelling come and sat and talked late with us, and he being gone, I called Deb. to take pen, ink, and paper and write down what things come into my head for my wife to do in order to her going into the country, and the girl, writing not so well as she would do, cried, and her mistress construed it to be sullenness, and so away angry with her too, but going to bed she undressed me, and there I did give her good advice and baiser la, elle weeping still.
April 1668
. Up, and to dress myself, and call as I use Deb. to brush and dress me … , and I to my office, where busy till noon, and then out to bespeak some things against my wife’s going into the country tomorrow, and so home to dinner, my wife and I alone, she being mighty busy getting her things ready for her journey, I all the afternoon with her looking after things on the same account, and then in the afternoon out and all alone to the King’s house, and there sat in an upper box, to hide myself, and saw The Black Prince, a very good play; but only the fancy, most of it, the same as in the rest of my Lord Orrery’s plays; but the dance very stately; but it was pretty to see how coming after dinner and with no company with me to talk to, and at a play that I had seen, and went to now not for curiosity but only idleness, I did fall asleep the former part of the play, but afterward did mind it and like it very well. Thence called at my bookseller’s, and took Mr. Boyle’s Book of Formes,3967 newly reprinted, and sent my brother my old one. So home, and there to my chamber till anon comes Mr. Turner and his wife and daughter, and Pelting, to sup with us and talk of my wife’s journey tomorrow, her daughter going with my wife; and after supper to talk with her husband about the Office, and his place, which, by Sir J. Minnes’s age and inability, is very uncomfortable to him, as well as without profit, or certainty what he shall do, when Sir J. Minnes dies, which is a sad condition for a man that hath lived so long in the Office as Mr. Turner hath done. But he aims, and I advise him to it, to look for Mr. Ackworth’s place,3968 in case he should be removed. His wife afterwards did take me into my closet, and give me a cellar3969 of waters of her own distilling for my father, to be carried down with my wife and her daughter tomorrow, which was very handsome. So broke up and to bed.
. Up, after much pleasant talk with my wife, and upon some alterations I will make in my house in her absence, and I do intend to lay out some money thereon. So she and I up, and she got her ready to be gone, and by and by comes Betty Turner and her mother, and W. Batelier, and they and Deb., to whom I did give 10s. this morning, to oblige her to please her mistress (and ego did baiser her mouche), and also Jane, and so in two coaches set out about eight o’clock towards the carrier, there for to take coach for my father’s, that is to say, my wife and Betty Turner, Deb., and Jane; but I meeting my Lord Anglesey going to the Office, was forced to ’light in Cheapside, and there took my leave of them (not baisado Deb., which je had a great mind to), left them to go to their coach, and I to the office, where all the morning busy, and so at noon with my other clerks (W. Hewer being a day’s journey with my wife) to dinner, where Mr. Pierce come and dined with me, and then with Lord Brouncker (carrying his little kinswoman on my knee, his coach being full), to the Temple, where my Lord and I ’light and to Mr. Porter’s chamber, where Cocke and his counsel, and so to the attorney’s, whither the Solicitor-General come, and there, their cause about their assignments on the £1,250,000 Act was argued, where all that was to be said for them was said, and so answered by the Solicitor-General beyond what I expected, that I said not one word all my time, rather choosing to hold my tongue, and so mind my reputation with the Solicitor-General, who did mightily approve of my speech in Parliament, than say anything against him to no purpose. This I believe did trouble Cocke and these gentlemen, but I do think this best for me, and so I do think that the business will go against them, though it is against my judgment, and I am sure against all justice to the men to be invited to part with their goods and be deceived afterward of their security for payment. Thence with Lord Brouncker to the Royal Society,3970 where they were just done; but there I was forced to subscribe to the building of a College, and did give £40; and several others did subscribe, some greater and some less sums; but several I saw hang off: and I doubt it will spoil the Society, for it breeds faction and ill-will, and becomes burdensome to some that cannot, or would not, do it. Here,3971 to my great content, I did try the use of the Otacousticon3972 which was only a great glass bottle broke at the bottom, putting the neck to my ear, and there I did plainly hear the dashing of the oares of the boats in the Thames to Arundell gallery window, which, without it, I could not in the least do, and may, I believe, be improved to a great height, which I am mighty glad of. Thence with Lord Brouncker and several of them to the King’s Head Tavern by Chancery Lane, and there did drink and eat and talk, and, above the rest, I did hear of Mr. Hooke and my Lord an account of the reason of concords and discords in music, which they say is from the equality of vibrations; but I am not satisfied in it, but will at my leisure think of it more, and see how far that do go to explain it. So late at night home with Mr. Colwell, and parted, and I to the office, and then to Sir W. Penn to confer with him, and Sir R. Ford and Young, about our St. John Baptist prize, and so home, without more supper to bed, my family being now little by the departure of my wife and two maids.
. Up, and Captain Perryman come to me to tell me how Tatnell told him that this day one How is to charge me before the Commissioners of Prizes to the value of £8,000 in prizes, which I was troubled to hear, so fearful I am, though I know that there is not a penny to be laid to my charge that I dare not own, or that I have not owned under my hand, but upon recollection it signifies nothing to me, and so I value it not, being sure that I can have nothing in the world to my hurt known from the business. So to the office, where all the morning to despatch business, and so home to dinner with my clerks, whose company is of great pleasure to me for their good discourse in anything of the navy I have a mind to talk of. After dinner by water from the Tower to Whitehall, there to attend the Duke of York as usual, and particularly in a fresh complaint the Commissioners of the Treasury do make to him, and by and by to the Council this day of our having prepared certificates on the Exchequer to the further sum of near £50,000, and soon as we had done with the Duke of York we did attend the Council; and were there called in, and did hear Mr. Solicitor [General] make his Report to the Council in the business; which he did in a most excellent manner of words, but most cruelly severe against us, and so were some of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, as men guilty of a practice with the tradesmen, to the King’s prejudice. I was unwilling to enter into a contest with them; but took advantage of two or three words last spoke, and brought it to a short issue in good words, that if we had the King’s order to hold our hands, we would, which did end the matter: and they all resolved we should have it, and so it ended: and so we away; I vexed that I did not speak more in a cause so fit to be spoke in, and wherein we had so much advantage; but perhaps I might have provoked the Solicitor and the Commissioners of the Treasury, and therefore, since, I am not sorry that I forbore. Thence my Lord Brouncker and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw the latter part of The Master and the Man, and thence by coach to Duck Lane, to look out for Marsanne,3973 in French, a man that has wrote well of music, but it is not to be had, but I have given order for its being sent for over, and I did here buy Des Cartes his little treatise of music, and so home, and there to read a little, and eat a little, though I find that my having so little taste do make me so far neglect eating that, unless company invite, I do not love to spend time upon eating, and so bring emptiness and the Colic. So to bed. This day I hear that Prince Rupert and Holmes do go to sea: and by this there is a seeming friendship and peace among our great seamen; but the devil a bit is there any love among them, or can be.
. Up betimes, and by coach towards Whitehall, and took Aldgate Street in my way, and there called upon one Hayward, that makes virginalls, and did there like of a little espinette, and will have him finish it for me; for I had a mind to a small harpsichon, but this takes up less room, and will do my business as to finding out of chords, and I am very well pleased that I have found it. Thence to Whitehall, and after long waiting did get a small running Committee of Tangier, where I stayed but little, and little done but the correcting two or three egregious faults in the Charter for Tangier after it had so long lain before the Council and been passed there and drawn up by the Attorney General, so slightly are all things in this age done. Thence home to the office by water, where we sat till noon, and then I moved we might go to the Duke of York and the King presently to get out their order in writing that was ordered us yesterday about the business of certificates, that we might be secure against the tradesmen who (Sir John Banks by name) have told me this day that they will complain in Parliament against us for denying to do them right. So we rose of a sudden, being mighty sensible of this inconvenience we are liable to should we delay to give them longer, and yet have no order for our indemnity. I did dine with Sir W. Penn, where my Lady Batten did come with desire of meeting me there, and speaking with me about the business of the £500 we demand of her for the Chest. She do protest, before God, she never did see the account, but that it was as her husband in his lifetime made it, and he did often declare to her his expecting £500, and that we could not deny it him for his pains in that business, and that he hath left her worth nothing of his own in the world, and that therefore she could pay nothing of it, come what will come, but that he hath left her a beggar, which I am sorry truly for, though it is a just judgment upon people that do live so much beyond themselves in housekeeping and vanity, as they did. I did give her little answer, but generally words that might not trouble her, and so to dinner, and after dinner Sir W. Penn and I away by water to Whitehall, and there did attend the Duke of York, and he did carry us to the King’s lodgings: but he was asleep in his closet; so we stayed in the Green-Roome, where the Duke of York did tell us what rules he had, of knowing the weather, and did now tell us we should have rain before tomorrow, it having been a dry season for some time, and so it did rain all night almost; and pretty rules he hath, and told Brouncker and me some of them, which were such as no reason seems ready to be given. By and by the King comes out, and he did easily agree to what we moved, and would have the Commissioners of the Navy to meet us with him tomorrow morning: and then to talk of other things; about the Quakers not swearing, and how they do swear in the business of a late election of a Knight of the Shire of Hartfordshire in behalf of one they have a mind to have; and how my Lord of Pembroke3974 says he hath heard him (the Quaker) at the tennis-court swear to himself when he loses:3975 and told us what pretty notions my Lord Pembroke hath of the first chapter of Genesis, how Adam’s sin was not the sucking (which he did before) but the swallowing of the apple, by which the contrary elements begun to work in him, and to stir up these passions, and a great deal of such fooleries, which the King made mighty mockery at. Thence my Lord Brouncker and I into the Park in his coach, and there took a great deal of air, saving that it was mighty dusty, and so a little unpleasant. Thence to Common Garden with my Lord, and there I took a hackney and home, and after having done a few letters at the office, I home to a little supper and so to bed, my eyes being every day more and more weak and apt to be tired.
. Up, and to my chamber, and there to the writing fair some of my late music notions, and so to church, where I have not been a good while, and thence home, and dined at home, with W. Hewer with me; and after dinner, he and I a great deal of good talk touching this Office, how it is spoiled by having so many persons in it, and so much work that is not made the work of any one man, but of all, and so is never done; and that the best way to have it well done, were to have the whole trust in one, as myself, to set whom I pleased to work in the several businesses of the Office, and me to be accountable for the whole, and that would do it, as I would find instruments: but this is not to be compassed; but something I am resolved to do about Sir J. Minnes before it be long. Then to my chamber again, to my music, and so to church; and then home, and thither comes Captain Silas Taylor to me, the Storekeeper of Harwich, where much talk, and most of it against Captain Deane, whom I do believe to be a high, proud fellow; but he is an active man, and able in his way, and so I love him. He gone, I to my music again, and to read a little, and to sing with Mr. Pelling, who come to see me, and so spent the evening, and then to supper and to bed. I hear that eight of the ringleaders in the late tumults of the ’prentices at Easter are condemned to die.3976
. Betimes I to Alderman Backewell, and with him to my Lord Ashly’s, where did a little business about Tangier, and to talk about the business of certificates, wherein, contrary to what could be believed, the King and Duke of York themselves, in my absence, did call for some of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and give them directions about the business [of the certificates], which I, despairing to do anything on a Sunday, and not thinking that they would think of it themselves, did rest satisfied, and stayed at home all yesterday, leaving it to do something in this day; but I find that the King and Duke of York had been so pressing in it, that my Lord Ashly was more forward with the doing of it this day, than I could have been. And so I to Whitehall with Alderman Backewell in his coach, with Mr. Blany; my Lord’s Secretary: and there did draw up a rough draught of what order I would have, and did carry it in, and had it read twice and approved of, before my Lord Ashly and three more of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and then went up to the Council-chamber, where the Duke of York, and Prince Rupert, and the rest of the Committee of the Navy were sitting: and I did get some of them to read it there: and they would have had it passed presently, but Sir John Nicholas desired they would first have it approved by a full Council: and, therefore, a Council Extraordinary was readily summoned against the afternoon, and the Duke of York run presently to the King, as if now they were really set to mind their business, which God grant! So I thence to Westminster, and walked in the Hall and up and down, the House being called over today, and little news, but some talk as if the agreement between France and Spain were like to be, which would be bad for us, and at noon with Sir Herbert Price to Mr. George Montagu’s to dinner, being invited by him in the hall, and there mightily made of, even to great trouble to me to be so commended before my face, with that flattery and importunity, that I was quite troubled with it. Yet he is a fine gentleman, truly, and his lady a fine woman;3977 and, among many sons that I saw there, there was a little daughter that is mighty pretty, of which he is infinite fond: and, after dinner, did make her play on the guitar and sing, which she did mighty prettily, and seems to have a mighty musical soul, keeping time with most excellent spirit. Here I met with Mr. Brownlow, my old schoolfellow, who come thither, I suppose, as a suitor to one of the young ladies that were there, and a sober man he seems to be. But here Mr. Montagu did tell me how Mr. Vaughan, in that very room, did say that I was a great man, and had great understanding, and I know not what, which, I confess, I was a little proud of, if I may believe him. Here I do hear, as a great secret, that the King, and Duke of York and Duchess, and my Lady Castlemayne, are now all agreed in a strict league, and all things like to go very current, and that it is not impossible to have my Lord Clarendon, in time, here again. But I do hear that my Lady Castlemayne is horribly vexed at the late libel,3978 the petition of the poor whores about the town, whose houses were pulled down the other day. I have got one of them, but it is not very witty, but devilish severe against her and the King and I wonder how it durst be printed and spread abroad, which shows that the times are loose, and come to a great disregard of the King, or Court, or Government. Thence I to Whitehall to attend the Council, and when the Council rose we find my order mightily enlarged by the Solicitor General, who was called thither, making it more safe for him and the Council, but their order is the same in the command of it that I drew, and will I think defend us well. So thence, meeting Creed, he and I to the new Cockpit by the King’s gate, and there saw the manner of it, and the mixed rabble of people that come thither; and saw two battles of cocks, wherein is no great sport, but only to consider how these creatures, without any provocation, do fight and kill one another, and aim only at one another’s heads, and by their good will not leave till one of them be killed; and thence to the Park in a hackney coach, so would not go into the tour, but round about the Park, and to the House, and there at the door eat and drank; whither come my Lady Kerneagy,3979 of whom Creed tells me more particulars; how her Lord, finding her and the Duke of York at the King’s first coming in too kind, did get it out of her that he did dishonour him, and so bid her continue … , which is the most pernicious and full piece of revenge that ever I heard of; and he at this day owns it with great glory, and looks upon the Duke of York and the world with great content in the ampleness of his revenge.3980 Thence (where the place was now by the last night’s rain very pleasant, and no dust) to Whitehall, and set Creed down, and I home and to my chamber, and there about my music notions again, wherein I take delight and find great satisfaction in them, and so, after a little supper, to bed. This day, in the afternoon, stepping with the Duke of York into St. James’s Park, it rained: and I was forced to lend the Duke of York my cloak, which he wore through the Park.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, where great hurry to be made in the fitting forth of this present little fleet, but so many rubs by reason of want of money, and people’s not believing us in cases where we had money unless (which in several cases, as in hiring of vessels, cannot be) they be paid beforehand, that everything goes backward instead of forward. At noon comes Mr. Clerke, my solicitor, and the Auditor’s men with my account drawn up in the Exchequer way with their queries, which are neither many nor great, or hard to answer upon it, and so dined with me, and then I by coach to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The English Monsieur;3981 sitting for privacy sake in an upper box: the play hath much mirth in it as to that particular humour. After the play done, I down to Knipp, and did stay her undressing herself; and there saw the several players, men and women go by; and pretty to see how strange they are all, one to another, after the play is done. Here I saw a wonderful pretty maid of her own, that come to undress her, and one so pretty that she says she intends not to keep her, for fear of her being undone in her service, by coming to the playhouse. Here I hear Sir W. Davenant is just now dead;3982 and so who will succeed him in the mastership of the house is not yet known. The eldest Davenport3983 is, it seems, gone from this house to be kept by somebody; which I am glad of, she being a very bad actor. I took her then up into a coach and away to the Park, which is now very fine after some rain, but the company was going away most, and so I took her to the Lodge, and there treated her and had a deal of good talk, and now and then did baiser la, and that was all, and that as much or more than I had much mind to because of her paint. She tells me mighty news, that my Lady Castlemayne is mightily in love with Hart3984 of their house: and he is much with her in private, and she goes to him, and do give him many presents; and that the thing is most certain, and Becke Marshall only privy to it, and the means of bringing them together, which is a very odd thing; and by this means she is even with the King’s love to Mrs. Davis. This done, I carried her and set her down at Mrs. Manuel’s, but stayed not there myself, nor went in; but straight home, and there to my letters, and so home to bed.
. Up, and at my office all the morning, doing business, and then at noon home to dinner all alone. Then to Whitehall with Sir J. Minnes in his coach to attend the Duke of York upon our usual business, which was this day but little, and thence with Lord Brouncker to the Duke of York’s playhouse, where we saw The Unfortunate Lovers,3985 no extraordinary play, methinks, and thence I to Drumbleby’s, and there did talk a great deal about pipes; and did buy a recorder,3986 which I do intend to learn to play on, the sound of it being, of all sounds in the world, most pleasing to me. Thence home, and to visit Mrs. Turner, where among other talk, Mr. Foly and her husband being there, she did tell me of young Captain Holmes’s3987 marrying of Pegg Lowther3988 last Saturday by stealth, which I was sorry for, he being an idle rascal, and proud, and worth little, I doubt; and she a mighty pretty, well-disposed lady, and good fortune. Her mother and friends take on mightily; but the sport is, Sir Robert Holmes do seem to be mad too with his brother, and will disinherit him, saying that he hath ruined himself, marrying below himself, and to his disadvantage; whereas, I said, in this company, that I had married a sister lately,3989 with little above half that portion, that he should have kissed her breech before he should have had her, which, if R. Holmes should hear, would make a great quarrel; but it is true I am heartily sorry for the poor girl that is undone by it. So home to my chamber, to be fingering of my Recorder, and getting of the scale of music without book, which I at last see is necessary for a man that would understand music, as it is now taught to understand, though it be a ridiculous and troublesome way, and I know I shall be able hereafter to show the world a simpler way; but, like the old hypotheses in philosophy, it must be learned, though a man knows a better. Then to supper, and to bed. This morning Mr. Christopher Pett’s widow and daughter come to me, to desire my help to the King and Duke of York, and I did promise, and do pity her.3990
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting, then at noon home to dinner with my people, and so to the office again writing of my letters, and then abroad to my bookseller’s, and up and down to the Duke of York’s playhouse, there to see, which I did, Sir W. Davenant’s corpse carried out3991 towards Westminster, there to be buried. Here were many coaches and six horses, and many hackneys, that made it look, methought, as if it were the buriall of a poor poet. He seemed to have many children, by five or six in the first mourning-coach, all boys. And there I left them coming forth, and I to the New Exchange, there to meet Mrs. Burroughs, and did take her in a carrosse and carry elle towards the Park, kissing her … , but did not go into any house, but come back and set her down at Whitehall, and did give her wrapped in paper for my Valentine’s gift for the last year before this, which I never did yet give her anything for, twelve half-crowns, and so back home and there to my office, where come a packet from the Downs from my brother Balty, who, with Harman, is arrived there, of which this day come the first news. And now the Parliament will be satisfied, I suppose, about the business they have so long desired between Brouncker3992 and Harman3993 about not prosecuting the first victory. Balty is very well, and I hope hath performed his work well, that I may get him into future employment. I wrote to him this night, and so home, and there to the perfecting my getting the scale of music without book, which I have done to perfection backward and forward, and so to supper and to bed.
.3994 All the morning at Office. At noon with W. Penn to Duke of York, and attended Council. So to piper and Duck Lane, and there kissed bookseller’s wife, and bought Legend.3995 So home, coach. Sailor. Mrs. Hannam dead. News of Peace. Conning my gamut.
. Dined at Brouncker’s, and saw the new book. Peace. Cutting away sails.
. Spent at Michel’s 6d.; in the Folly, 1s.;3996 oysters, 1s.; coach to W. Coventry about Mrs. Pett, 1s.; thence to Commissioners of Treasury, and so to Westminster Hall by water, 6d. With G. Montagu and Roger Pepys, and spoke with Birch and Vaughan, all in trouble about the prize business. So to Lord Crew’s (calling for a low pipe by the way), where Creed and G. M. and G. C. come, 1s. So with Creed to a play. Little laugh, 4s. Thence towards the Park by coach, 2s. 6d. Come home, met with order of Commissioners of Accounts, which put together with the rest vexed me, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes by water to the Temple. In the way read the Narrative about prizes; and so to Lord Crew’s bedside, and then to Westminster, where I hear Penn is, and sent for by messenger last night. Thence to Commissioners of Accounts and there examined, and so back to Westminster Hall, where all the talk of committing all to the Tower, and Creed and I to the Quaker’s, dined together. Thence to the House, where rose about four o’clock; and, with much ado, Penn got to Thursday to bring in his answer; so my Lord escapes today. Thence with Godage and G. Montagu to G. Carteret’s, and there sat their dinnertime: and hear myself, by many Parliament-men, mightily commended. Thence to a play, Love’s Cruelty, and so to my Lord Crew’s, who glad of this day’s time got, and so home, and there office, and then home to supper and to bed, my eyes being the better upon leaving drinking at night. Water, 1s. Porter, 6d. Water, 6d. Dinner, 3s. 6d. Play part, 2s. Oranges, 1s. Home coach, 1s. 6d.
. After playing a little upon my new little flageolet, that is so soft that pleases me mightily, betimes to my office, where most of the morning. Then by coach, 1s., and meeting Lord Brouncker, ’light at the Exchange, and thence by water to Whitehall, 1s., and there to the Chapel, expecting wind music and to the Harp-and-Ball, and drank all alone, 2d. Back, and to the fiddling concert, and heard a practice mighty good of Grebus, and thence to Westminster Hall, where all cry out that the House will be severe with Penn; but do hope well concerning the buyers, that we shall have no difficulty, which God grant! Here met Creed, and, about noon, he and I, and Sir P. Neale to the Quaker’s, and there dined with a silly Executor of Bishop Juxon’s, and cousin Roger Pepys. Business of money goes on slowly in the House. Thence to Whitehall by water, and there with the Duke of York a little, but stayed not, but saw him and his lady at his little pretty chapel, where I never was before: but silly devotion, God knows! Thence I left Creed, and to the King’s playhouse, into a corner of the 18d. box, and there saw The Maid’s Tragedy,3997 a good play. Coach, 1s.: play and oranges, 2s. 6d. Creed come, dropping presently here, but he did not see me, and come to the same place, nor would I be seen by him. Thence to my Lord Crew’s, and there he come also after, and there with Sir T. Crew bemoaning my Lord’s folly in leaving his old interest, by which he hath now lost all. An ill discourse in the morning of my Lord’s being killed, but this evening Godolphin tells us here that my Lord is well. Thence with Creed to the Cock alehouse, and there spent 6d., and so by coach home, 2s. 6d., and so to bed.
. Greeting’s book, 1s. Begun this day to learn the Recorder. To the office, where all the morning. Dined with my clerks: and merry at Sir W. Penn’s crying yesterday, as they say, to the King, that he was his martyr. So to Whitehall by coach to Commissioners of [the] Treasury about certificates, but they met not, 2s. To Westminster by water. To Westminster Hall, where I hear W. Penn is ordered to be impeached, 6d. There spoke with many, and particularly with G. Montagu: and went with him and Creed to his house, where he told how W. Penn hath been severe to Lord Sandwich; but the Coventries both labouring to save him, by laying it on Lord Sandwich, which our friends cry out upon, and I am silent, but do believe they did it as the only way to save him. It could not be carried to commit him. It is thought the House do coole: W. Coventry’s being for him, provoked Sir R. Howard and his party; Court, all for W. Penn. Thence to Whitehall, but no meeting of the Commissioners, and there met Mr. Hunt, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s, and, there did what I would, she troubled for want of employ for her husband, spent on her 1s. Thence to the Hall to walk awhile and ribbon, spent 1s. So [to] Lord Crew’s, and there with G. Carteret and my Lord to talk, and they look upon our matters much the better, and by this and that time is got, 1s. So to the Temple late, and by water, by moonshine, home, 1s. Cooks, 6d. Wrote my letters to my Lady Sandwich, and so home, where displeased to have my maid bring her brother, a countryman, to lie there, and so to bed.
. Called up by Balty’s coming, who gives me a good account of his voyage, and pleases me well, and I hope hath got something. This morning paid the Royal Society £1 6s., and so to the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner with my people, and there much pretty discourse of Balty’s. So by coach to Whitehall: the coachman on Ludgate Hill ’lighted, and beat a fellow with a sword, 2s. 6d. Did little business with the Duke of York. Hear that the House is upon the business of Harman, who, they say, takes all on himself. Thence, with Brouncker, to the King’s house, and saw The Surprisal, where base singing, only Knepp,3998 who come, after her song in the clouds, to me in the pit, and there, oranges, 2s. After the play, she, and I, and Rolt, by coach, 6s. 6d., to Kensington, and there to the Grotto, and had admirable pleasure with their singing, and fine ladies listening to us: with infinite pleasure, I enjoyed myself: so to the tavern there, and did spend 16s. 6d., and the gardener 2s. Mighty merry, and sang all the way to the town, a most pleasant evening, moonshine, and set them at her house in Covent Garden, and I home and to bed.
. Up, and my bookseller brought home books, bound—the binding comes to 17s. Advanced to my maid Bridget £1. Sir W. Penn at the Office, seemingly merry. Do hear this morning that Harman is committed by the Parliament last night, the day he come up, which is hard; but he took all upon himself first, and then when a witness come in to say otherwise, he would have retracted; and the House took it so ill, they would commit him. Thence home to dinner with my clerks, and so to Whitehall by water, 1s., and there a short Committee for Tangier, and so I to the King’s playhouse, 1s., and to the play of the Duke of Lerma, 2s. 6d., and oranges, 1s. Thence by coach to Westminster, 1s., and the House just up, having been about money business, 1s. So home by coach, 3s., calling in Duck Lane, and did get Des Cartes’ Musique in English,3999 and so home and wrote my letters, and then to my chamber to save my eyes, and to bed.
. Lay long. Roger Pepys and his son come, and to Church with me, where W. Penn was, and did endeavour to show himself to the Church. Then home to dinner, and Roger Pepys did tell me the whole story of Harman, how he prevaricated, and hath undoubtedly been imposed on, and wheedled; and he is called the miller’s man that, in Richard the Third’s time, was hanged for his master.4000 So after dinner I took them by water to Whitehall, taking in a very pretty woman at Paul’s Wharf, and there landed we, and I left Roger Pepys and to St. Margaret’s Church, and there saw Betty, and so to walk in the Abbey with Sir John Talbot,4001 who would fain have pumped me about the prizes, but I would not let him, and so to walk towards Michell’s to see her, but could not, and so to Martin’s, and her husband was at home, and so took coach and to the Park, and thence home and to bed betimes. Water 1s., coach 5s. Balty borrowed £2.
. Up betimes and to the getting ready my answer to the Committee of Accounts to several questions, which makes me trouble, though I know of no blame due to me from any, let them enquire what they can out.4002 I to Whitehall, and there hear how Henry Brouncker is fled, which, I think, will undo him: but what good it will do Harman I know not, he hath so befooled himself; but it will be good sport to my Lord Chancellor to hear how his great enemy is fain to take the same course that he is. There met Robinson, who tells me that he fears his master, W. Coventry, will this week have his business brought upon the stage again, about selling of places, which I shall be sorry for, though the less, since I hear his standing for Penn the other day, to the prejudice, though not to the wrong, of my Lord Sandwich; and yet I do think what he did, he did out of a principle of honesty. Thence to Committee of Accounts, and delivered my paper, and had little discourse, and was unwilling to stay long with them to enter into much, but away and glad to be from them, though very civil to me, but cunning and close I see they are. So to Westminster Hall, and there find the Parliament upon the Irish business, where going into the Speaker’s chamber I did hear how plainly one lawyer of counsel for the complainants did inveigh by name against all the late Commissioners there. Thence with Creed, thinking, but failed, of dining with Lord Crew, and so he and I to Hercules Pillars, and there dined, and thence home by coach, and so with Jack Fenn to the Chamberlain of London to look after the state of some Navy assignments that are in his hands, and thence away, and meeting Sir William Hooker,4003 the Alderman, he did cry out mighty high against Sir W. Penn for his getting such an estate, and giving £15,000 with his daughter, which is more, by half, than ever he did give; but this the world believes, and so let them. Thence took coach and I all alone to Hyde Park (passing through Duck Lane among the booksellers, only to get a sight of the pretty little woman I did salute the other night, and did in passing), and so all the evening in the Park, being a little unwilling to be seen there, and at night home, and thereto W. Penn’s and sat and talked there with his wife and children a good while, he being busy in his closet, I believe preparing his defence in Parliament, and so home to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, at noon dined at home, and thence took Mrs. Turner out and carried her to the King’s house, and saw The Indian Emperour; and after that done, took Knepp out, and to Kensington; and there walked in the garden, and then supped, and mighty merry, there being also in the house Sir Philip Howard, and some company, and had a dear reckoning, but merry, and away, it being quite night, home, and dark, about 9 o’clock or more, and in my coming had the opportunity the first time in my life to be bold with Knepp … , and so left her at home, and so Mrs. Turner and I home to my letters and to bed. Here hear how Sir W. Penn’s impeachment was read, and agreed to, in the House this day, and ordered to be engrossed; and he suspended4004 the House: Harman set at liberty; and Brouncker put out of the House, and a writ for a new election,4005 and an impeachment ordered to be brought in against him, he being fled!4006
. Up, and all the morning at my office busy. At noon, it being washing day, I toward Whitehall, and stopped and dined all alone at Hercules Pillars, where I was mighty pleased to overhear a woman talk to her counsel how she had troubled her neighbours with law, and did it very roguishly and wittily. Thence to Whitehall, and there we attended the Duke of York as usual; and I did present Mrs. Pett, the widow, and her petition to the Duke of York, for some relief from the King. Here was today a proposition made to the Duke of York by Captain Von Hemskirke for £20,000, to discover an art how to make a ship go two foot for one what any ship do now, which the King inclines to try, it costing him nothing to try; and it is referred to us to contract with the man. Thence to attend the Council about the business of certificates to the Exchequer, where the Commissioners of the Treasury of different minds, some would, and my Lord Ashly would not have any more made out, and carried it there should not. After done here, and the Council up, I by water from the Privy-stairs to Westminster Hall; and, taking water, the King and the Duke of York were in the new buildings; and the Duke of York called to me whither I was going? and I answered aloud, “To wait on our maisters at Westminster;” at which he and all the company laughed; but I was sorry and troubled for it afterwards, for fear any Parliament-man should have been there; and will be a caution to me for the time to come. Met with Roger Pepys, who tells me they have been on the business of money, but not ended yet, but will take up more time. So to the fishmonger’s, and bought a couple of lobsters, and over to the ’sparagus garden, thinking to have met Mr. Pierce, and his wife and Knepp; but met their servant coming to bring me to Chatelin’s, the French house, in Covent Garden, and there with music and good company, Manuel and his wife, and one Swaddle, a clerk of Lord Arlington’s, who dances, and speaks French well, but got drunk, and was then troublesome, and here mighty merry till ten at night, and then I away, and got a coach, and so home, where I find Balty and his wife come to town, and did sup with them, and so they to bed. This night the Duke of Monmouth and a great many blades were at Chatelin’s, and I left them there, with a hackney-coach attending him.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon comes Knepp and Mrs. Pierce, and her daughter, and one Mrs. Foster, and dined with me, and mighty merry, and after dinner carried them to the Tower, and showed them all to be seen there, and, among other things, the Crown and Scepters and rich plate, which I myself never saw before, and indeed is noble, and I mightily pleased with it. Thence by water to the Temple, and thereto the Cocke alehouse,4007 and drank, and eat a lobster, and sang, and mighty merry. So, almost night, I carried Mrs. Pierce home, and then Knepp and I to the Temple again, and took boat, it being darkish, and to Fox Hall, it being now night, and a bonfire burning at Lambeth for the King’s coronation-day. And there she and I drank; … and so back, and led her home, it being now ten at night; and so got a link; and, walking towards home, just at my entrance into the ruines at St. Dunstan’s, I was met by two rogues with clubs, who come towards us. So I went back, and walked home quite round by the wall, and got well home, and to bed weary, but pleased at my day’s pleasure, but yet displeased at my expense, and time I lose.
. Up betimes, and by water to Whitehall, to the Duke of York, and there hear that this day Hollis and Temple purpose to bring in the petition against Sir W. Coventry, which I am sorry for, but hope he will get out of it. Here I presented Mrs. Pett and her condition to Mr. Wren for his favour, which he promised us. Thence to Lord Brouncker and sat and talked with him, who thinks the Parliament will, by their violence and delay in money matters, force the King to run any hazard, and dissolve them. Thence to Ducke Lane, and there did overlook a great many of Monsieur Fouquet’s4008 library, that a bookseller hath bought, and I did buy one Spanish [work], Los Illustres Varones.4009 Here did I endeavour to see my pretty woman that I did baiser in lastenebras a little while depuis. And did find her sofa in the book[shop], but had not la confidence para aller à elle. So lost my pains. But will another time, and so home and to my office, and then to dinner. After dinner down to the Old Swan, and by the way called at Michell’s, and there did see Betty, and that was all, for either she is shy or foolish, and su mardi hath no mind para laiser me see su moher. To Whitehall by water, and there did our business with the Duke of York, which was very little, only here I do hear the Duke of York tell how Sir W. Penn’s impeachment was brought into the House of Lords today; and spoke with great kindness of him: and that the Lords would not commit him till they could find precedent for it, and did incline to favour him. Thence to the King’s playhouse, and there saw a piece of Beggar’s Bush, which I have not seen some years, and thence home, and there to Sir W. Penn’s and supped and sat talking there late, having nowhere else to go, and my eyes too bad to read right, and so home to bed.
. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to my Lord Brouncker, and with him all of us to my Lord Ashly to satisfy him about the reason of what we do or have done in the business of the tradesmen’s certificates, which he seems satisfied with, but is not, but I believe we have done what we can justify, and he hath done what he cannot in stopping us to grant them, and I believe it will come into Parliament and make trouble. So home and there at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence after dinner to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw Sir Martin Marr-All, which, the more I see, the more I like, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with Roger Pepys; and he tells me that nothing hath lately passed about my Lord Sandwich, but only Sir Robert Carr did speak hardly of him. But it is hoped that nothing will be done more, this meeting of Parliament, which the King did, by a message yesterday, declare again, should rise the 4th of May, and then only adjourne for three months: and this message being only adjournment, did please them mightily, for they are desirous of their power mightily. Thence homeward by the Coffee House in Covent Garden, thinking to have met Harris here but could not, and so home, and there, after my letters, I home to have my hair cut by my sister Michell and her husband, and so to bed.4010 This day I did first put off my waistcoat, the weather being very hot, but yet lay in it at night, and shall, for a little time.
. Lay long, and then up and to Church, and so home, where there come and dined with me Harris, Rolt, and Bannister, and one Bland, that sings well also, and very merry at dinner, and, after dinner, to sing all the afternoon. But when all was done, I did begin to think that the pleasure of these people was not worth so often charge and cost to me, as it hath occasioned me. They being gone I and Balty walked as far as Charing Cross, and there got a coach and to Hales’s the painter, thinking to have found Harris sitting there for his picture, which is drawing for me. But he, and all this day’s company, and Hales, were got to the Crown tavern, at next door, and thither I to them and stayed a minute, leaving Captain Grant telling pretty stories of people that have killed themselves, or been accessory to it, in revenge to other people, and to mischief other people, and thence with Hales to his house, and there did see his beginning of Harris’s picture, which I think will be pretty like, and he promises a very good picture. Thence with Balty away and got a coach and to Hide Park, and there up and down and did drink some milk at the Lodge, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and Captain Deane come to see me, and he and I toward Westminster together, and I set him down at Whitehall, while I to Westminster Hall, and up to the Lords’ House, and there saw Sir W. Penn go into the House of Lords, where his impeachment was read to him, and he used mighty civilly, the Duke of York being there; and two days hence, at his desire, he is to bring in his answer, and a day then to be appointed for his being heard with Counsel. Thence down into the Hall, and with Creed and Godolphin walked; and do hear that tomorrow is appointed, upon a motion on Friday last, to discourse the business of my Lord Sandwich, moved by Sir R. Howard, that he should be sent for, home; and I fear it will be ordered. Certain news come, I hear, this day, that the Spanish Plenipotentiary4011 in Flanders will not agree to the peace and terms we and the Dutch have made for him and the King of France; and by this means the face of things may be altered, and we forced to join with the French against Spain, which will be an odd thing. At noon with Creed to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined; and here was a very fine-skinned lady dined, the daughter of my Lord Roberts, and also a fine lady, Mr. John Parkhurst his wife, that was but a boy the other day. And after dinner there comes in my Lady Roberts herself,4012 and with her Mr. Roberts’s daughter, that was Mrs. Boddevill, the great beauty, and a fine lady indeed, the first time I saw her. My Lord Crew, and Sir Thomas, and I, and Creed, all the afternoon debating of my Lord Sandwich’s business, against tomorrow, and thence I to the King’s playhouse, and there saw most of The Cardinall, a good play, and thence to several places to pay my debts, and then home, and there took a coach and to Mile End to take a little air, and thence home to Sir W. Penn’s, where I supped, and sat all the evening; and being lighted homeward by Mrs. Markham, I blew out the candle and kissed her, and so home to bed.
. Up betimes, and to Sir W. Coventry’s by water, but lost my labour, so through the Park to Whitehall, and thence to my Lord Crew’s to advise again with him about my Lord Sandwich, and so to the office, where till noon, and then I by coach to Westminster Hall, and there do understand that the business of religion, and the Act against Conventicles, have so taken them up all this morning, and do still, that my Lord Sandwich’s business is not like to come on today, which I am heartily glad of. This law against Conventicles is very severe; but Creed, whom I met here, do tell me that, it being moved that Papists’ meetings might be included, the House was divided upon it, and it was carried in the negative; which will give great disgust to the people, I doubt. Thence with Creed to Hercules Pillars by the Temple again, and there dined he and I all alone, and thence to the King’s house, and there did see Love in a Maze, wherein very good mirth of Lacy, the clown, and Wintersell,4013 the country-knight, his master. Thence to the New Exchange to pay a debt of my wife’s there, and so home, and there to the office and walk in the garden in the dark to ease my eyes, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where all the morning busy. At noon dined at home, and my clerks with me, and thence I to Whitehall, and there do hear how Sir W. Penn hath delivered in his answer; and the Lords have sent it down to the Commons, but they have not yet read it, nor taken notice of it, so as, I believe, they will by design defer it till they rise, that so he, by lying under an impeachment, may be prevented in his going to sea, which will vex him, and trouble the Duke of York. Did little business with the Duke of York, and then Lord Brouncker and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw Love in a Tubb; and, after the play done, I stepped up to Harris’s dressing-room, where I never was, and there I observe much company come to him, and the Witts, to talk, after the play is done, and to assign meetings. Mine was to talk about going down to see The Resolution,4014 and so away, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with Mr. G. Montagu, and walked and talked; who tells me that the best fence against the Parliament’s present fury is delay, and recommended it to me, in my friends’ business and my own, if I have any; and is that, that Sir W. Coventry do take, and will secure himself; that the King will deliver up all to the Parliament; and being petitioned the other day by Mr. Brouncker to protect him, with teares in his eyes, the King did say he could not, and bid him shift for himself, at least till the House is up. Thence I away to Whitehall, and there took coach home with a stranger I let into the coach, to club with me for it, he going into London, I set him down at the lower end of Cheapside, and I home, and to Sir W. Penn’s, and there sat, and by and by, it being now about nine o’clock at night, I heard Mercer’s voice, and my boy Tom’s singing in the garden, which pleased me mightily, I longing to see the girl, having not seen her since my wife went; and so into the garden to her and sang, and then home to supper, and mightily pleased with her company, in talking and singing, and so parted, and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon Sir J. Minnes and I to the Dolphin Tavern, there to meet our neighbours, all of the Parish, this being Procession-day, to dine. And did; and much very good discourse; they being, most of them, very able merchants as any in the City: Sir Andrew Rickard, Mr. Vandeputt,4015 Sir John Fredericke, Harrington, and others. They talked with Mr. Mills about the meaning of this day, and the good uses of it; and how heretofore, and yet in several places, they do whip a boy4016 at each place they stop at in their procession. Thence I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Tempest, which still pleases me mightily, and thence to the New Exchange, and then home, and in the way stopped to talk with Mr. Brisband, who gives me an account of the rough usage Sir G. Carteret and his Counsel had the other day, before the Commissioners of Accounts, and what I do believe we shall all of us have, in a greater degree than any he hath had yet with them, before their three years are out, which are not yet begun, nor God knows when they will, this being like to be no session of Parliament, when they now rise. So home, and there took up Mrs. Turner and carried her to Mile End and drank, and so back talking, and so home and to bed, I being mighty cold, this being a mighty cold day, and I had left off my waistcoat three or four days. This evening, coming home in the dusk, I saw and spoke to our Nell, Pain’s daughter, and had I not been very cold I should have taken her to Tower hill para together et toker her. Thus ends this month; my wife in the country, myself full of pleasure and expense; and some trouble for my friends, my Lord Sandwich, by the Parliament, and more for my eyes, which are daily worse and worse, that I dare not write or read almost anything. The Parliament going in a few days to rise; myself so long without accounting now, for seven or eight months, I think, or more, that I know not what condition almost I am in, as to getting or spending for all that time, which troubles me, but I will soon do it. The kingdom in an ill state through poverty; a fleet going out, and no money to maintain it, or set it out; seamen yet unpaid, and mutinous when pressed to go out again; our Office able to do little, nobody trusting us, nor we desiring any to trust us, and yet have not money for anything, but only what particularly belongs to this fleet going out, and that but lamely too. The Parliament several months upon an Act for £300,000, but cannot or will not agree upon it, but do keep it back, in spite of the King’s desires to hasten it, till they can obtain what they have a mind, in revenge upon some men for the late ill managements; and he is forced to submit to what they please, knowing that, without it, he shall have no money, and they as well, that, if they give the money, the King will suffer them to do little more; and then the business of religion do disquiet everybody, the Parliament being vehement against the Nonconformists, while the King seems to be willing to countenance them. So we are all poor, and in pieces—God help us! while the peace is like to go on between Spain and France; and then the French may be apprehended able to attack us. So God help us!4017
May 1668
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy. Then to Westminster Hall, and there met Sir W. Penn, who labours to have his answer to his impeachment, and sent down from the Lords’ House, read by the House of Commons; but they are so busy on other matters, that he cannot, and thereby will, as he believes, by design, be prevented from going to sea this year. Here met my cousin Thomas Pepys of Deptford, and took some turns with him; who is mightily troubled for this Act now passed against Conventicles, and in few words, and sober, do lament the condition we are in, by a negligent Prince and a mad Parliament. Thence I by coach to the Temple, and there set him down, and then to Sir G. Carteret’s to dine, but he not being at home, I back again to the New Exchange a little, and thence back again to Hercules Pillars, and there dined all alone, and then to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Surprisal; and a disorder in the pit by its raining in, from the cupola at top, it being a very foul day, and cold, so as there are few I believe go to the Park today, if any. Thence to Westminster Hall, and there I understand how the Houses of Commons and Lords are like to disagree very much, about the business of the East India Company and one Skinner;4018 to the latter of which the Lords have awarded £5,000 from the former, for some wrong done him heretofore; and the former appealing to the Commons, the Lords vote their petition a libel; and so there is like to follow very hot work. Thence by water, not being able to get a coach, nor boat but a sculler, and that with company, it being so foul a day, to the Old Swan, and so home, and there spent the evening, making Balty read to me, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon with Lord Brouncker in his coach as far as the Temple, and there ’light and to Hercules Pillars, and there dined, and thence to the Duke of York’s playhouse, at a little past twelve, to get a good place in the pit, against the new play, and there setting a poor man to keep my place, I out, and spent an hour at Martin’s, my bookseller’s, and so back again, where I find the house quite full. But I had my place, and by and by the King comes and the Duke of York; and then the play begins, called The Sullen Lovers; or, the Impertinents,4019 having many good humours in it, but the play tedious, and no design at all in it. But a little boy, for a farce, do dance Polichinelli, the best that ever anything was done in the world, by all men’s report: most pleased with that, beyond anything in the world, and much beyond all the play. Thence to the King’s house to see Knepp, but the play done; and so I took a hackney alone, and to the park, and there spent the evening, and to the lodge, and drank new milk. And so home to the Office, ended my letters, and, to spare my eyes, home, and played on my pipes, and so to bed.
. Up, and to church, where I saw Sir A. Rickard, though he be under the Black Rod, by order of the Lords’ House, upon the quarrel between the East India Company and Skinner, which is like to come to a very great heat between the two Houses.4020 At noon comes Mr. Mills and his wife, and Mr. Turner and his wife, by invitation to dinner, and we were mighty merry, and a very pretty dinner, of my Bridget and Nell’s dressing, very handsome. After dinner to church again. … So home and with Sir W. Penn took a hackney, and he and I to Old Street, to a brew-house there, to see Sir Thomas Teddiman, who is very ill in bed of a fever, got, I believe, by the fright the Parliament have put him into, of late. But he is a good man, a good seaman, and stout. Thence Penn and I to Islington, and there, at the old house, eat, and drank, and merry, and there by chance giving two pretty fat boys each of them a cake, they proved to be Captain Holland’s children, whom therefore I pity. So round by Hackney home, having good discourse, he [Penn] being very open to me in his talk, how the King ought to dissolve this Parliament, when the Bill of Money is passed, they being never likely to give him more; how he [the King] hath great opportunity of making himself popular by stopping this Act against Conventicles; and how my Lord Lieutenant4021 of Ireland, if the Parliament continue, will undoubtedly fall, he having managed that place with so much self-seeking, and disorder, and pleasure, and some great men are designing to overthrow [him], as, among the rest, my Lord Orrery; and that this will try the King mightily, he being a firm friend to my Lord Lieutenant. So home; and to supper a little, and then to bed, having stepped, after I come home, to Alderman Backewell’s about business, and there talked a while with him and his wife, a fine woman of the country, and how they had bought an estate at Buckeworth,4022 within four mile of Brampton.
. Up betimes, and by water to Charing Cross, and so to W. Coventry, and there talked a little with him, and thence over the Park to Whitehall, and there did a little business at the Treasury, and so to the Duke, and there present Balty to the Duke of York and a letter from the Board to him about him, and the Duke of York is mightily pleased with him, and I doubt not his continuance in employment, which I am glad of. Thence with Sir H. Cholmly to Westminster Hall talking, and he crying mightily out of the power the House of Lords usurps in this business of the East India Company. Thence away home and there did business, and so to dinner, my sister Michell and I, and thence to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw The Impertinents again, and with less pleasure than before, it being but a very contemptible play, though there are many little witty expressions in it; and the pit did generally say that of it. Thence, going out, Mrs. Pierce called me from the gallery, and there I took her and Mrs. Corbet by coach up and down, and took up Captain Rolt in the street; and at last, it being too late to go to the Park, I carried them to the Beare in Drury Lane, and there did treat them with a dish of mackrell, the first I have seen this year, and another dish, and mighty merry; and so carried her home, and thence home myself, well pleased with this evening’s pleasure, and so to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner and Creed with me, and after dinner he and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse; and there coming late, he and I up to the balcony-box, where we find my Lady Castlemayne and several great ladies; and there we sat with them, and I saw The Impertinents once more, now three times, and the three only days it hath been acted. And to see the folly how the house do this day cry up the play more than yesterday! and I for that reason like it, I find, the better, too; by Sir Positive At-all, I understand, is meant Sir Robert Howard. My Lady [Castlemaine] pretty well pleased with it; but here I sat close to her fine woman, Willson, who indeed is very handsome, but, they say, with child by the King. I asked, and she told me this was the first time her Lady had seen it, I having a mind to say something to her. One thing of familiarity I observed in my Lady Castlemayne: she called to one of her women, another that sat by this, for a little patch off her face, and put it into her mouth and wetted it, and so clapped it upon her own by the side of her mouth, I suppose she feeling a pimple rising there. Thence with Creed to Westminster Hall, and there met with cousin Roger, who tells me of the great conference this day between the Lords and Commons, about the business of the East India Company, as being one of the weightiest conferences that hath been, and managed as weightily. I am heartily sorry I was not there, it being upon a mighty point of the privileges of the subjects of England, in regard to the authority of the House of Lords, and their being condemned by them as the Supreme Court, which, we say, ought not to be, but by appeal from other Courts. And he tells me that the Commons had much the better of them, in reason and history there quoted, and believes the Lords will let it fall. Thence to walk in the Hall, and there hear that Mrs. Martin’s child, my goddaughter, is dead, and so by water to the Old Swan, and thence home, and there a little at Sir W. Penn’s, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and thence to Whitehall, but come too late to see the Duke of York, with whom my business was, and so to Westminster Hall, where met with several people and talked with them, and among other things understand that my Lord St. John is meant by Mr. Woodcocke, in The Impertinents.4023 Here met with Mrs. Washington, my old acquaintance of the Hall, whose husband has a place in the Excise at Windsor, and it seems lives well. I have not seen her these 8 or 9 years, and she begins to grow old, I perceive, visibly. So time do alter, and do doubtless the like in myself. This morning the House is upon the City Bill, and they say hath passed it, though I am sorry that I did not think to put somebody in mind of moving for the churches to be allotted according to the convenience of the people, and not to gratify this Bishop, or that College. Thence by water to the New Exchange, where bought a pair of shoestrings, and so to Mr. Pierce’s, where invited, and there was Knepp and Mrs. Foster and here dined, but a poor, sluttish dinner, as usual, and so I could not be heartily merry at it: here saw her girl’s picture, but it is mighty far short of her boy’s, and not like her neither; but it makes Hales’s picture of her boy appear a good picture. Thence to Whitehall, walked with Brisband, who dined there also, and thence I back to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Virgin Martyr, and heard the music that I like so well, and intended to have seen Knepp, but I let her alone; and having there done, went to Mrs. Pierce’s back again, where she was, and there I found her on a pallet in the dark … , that is Knepp. And so to talk; and by and by did eat some curds and cream, and thence away home, and it being night, I did walk in the dusk up and down, round through our garden, over Tower Hill, and so through Crutched Friars, three or four times, and once did meet Mercer and another pretty lady, but being surprised I could say little to them, although I had an opportunity of pleasing myself with them, but left them, and then I did see our Nell, Payne’s daughter, and her je did desire venir after me, and so elle did see me to Tower Hill to our back entry there that comes upon the degres entrant into nostra garden … , and so parted, and je home to put up things against tomorrow’s carrier for my wife; and, among others, a very fine salmon-pie, sent me by Mr. Steventon, W. Hewer’s uncle, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thither I sent for Mercer to dine with me, and after dinner she and I called Mrs. Turner, and I carried them to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw The Man’s the Master, which proves, upon my seeing it again, a very good play. Thence called Knepp from the King’s house, where going in for her, the play being done, I did see Beck Marshall come dressed, off of the stage, and looks mighty fine, and pretty, and noble: and also Nell, in her boy’s clothes, mighty pretty. But, Lord! their confidence! and how many men do hover about them as soon as they come off the stage, and how confident they are in their talk! Here I did kiss the pretty woman newly come, called Pegg,4024 that was Sir Charles Sidly’s mistress, a mighty pretty woman, and seems, but is not, modest. Here took up Knepp into our coach, and all of us with her to her lodgings, and thither comes Bannister with a song of hers, that he hath set in Sir Charles Sidly’s play for her,4025 which is, I think, but very meanly set; but this he did, before us, teach her, and it being but a slight, silly, short air, she learnt it presently. But I did get him to prick me down the notes of the Echo in The Tempest, which pleases me mightily. Here was also Haynes, the incomparable dancer of the King’s house, and a seeming civil man, and sings pretty well, and they gone, we abroad to Marrowbone, and there walked in the garden,4026 the first time I ever was there; and a pretty place it is, and here we eat and drank and stayed till 9 at night, and so home by moonshine. … And so set Mrs. Knepp at her lodging, and so the rest, and I home talking with a great deal of pleasure, and so home to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. Towards noon I to Westminster and there understand that the Lords’ House did sit till eleven o’clock last night, about the business in difference between them and the Commons, in the matter of the East India Company. Here took a turn or two, and up to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined; where Mr. Case, the minister, a dull fellow in his talk, and all in the Presbyterian manner; a great deal of noise and a kind of religious tone, but very dull. After dinner my Lord and I together. He tells me he hears that there are great disputes like to be at Court, between the factions of the two women, my Lady Castlemayne and Mrs. Stewart,4027 who is now well again, and the King hath made several public visits to her, and like to come to Court: the other is to go to Barkeshire-house,4028 which is taken for her, and they say a Privy-Seal is passed for £5,000 for it. He believes all will come to ruin. Thence I to Whitehall, where the Duke of York gone to the Lords’ House, where there is to be a conference on the Lords’ side to the Commons this afternoon, giving in their Reasons, which I would have been at, but could not; for, going by direction to the Prince’s chamber,4029 there Brouncker, W. Penn, and Mr. Wren, and I, met, and did our business with the Duke of York. But, Lord! to see how this play4030 of Sir Positive At-all in abuse of Sir Robert Howard, do take, all the Duke’s and everybody’s talk being of that, and telling more stories of him, of the like nature, that it is now the town and country talk, and, they say, is most exactly true. The Duke of York himself said that of his playing at trap-ball is true, and told several other stories of him. This being done, Brouncker, Penn, and I to Brouncker’s house, and there sat and talked, I asking many questions in mathematics to my Lord, which he do me the pleasure to satisfy me in, and here we drank and so spent an hour, and so W. Penn and I home, and after being with W. Penn at his house an hour, I home and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning we sat. Here I first hear that the Queen hath miscarryed of a perfect child, being gone about ten weeks, which do show that she can conceive, though it be unfortunate that she cannot bring forth. Here we are told also that last night the Duchess of Monmouth, dancing at her lodgings, hath sprained her thigh.4031 Here we are told also that the House of Commons sat till five o’clock this morning, upon the business of the difference between the Lords and them, resolving to do something therein before they rise, to assert their privileges. So I at noon by water to Westminster, and there find the King hath waited in the Prince’s chamber these two hours, and the Houses are not ready for him. The Commons having sent this morning, after their long debate therein the last night, to the Lords, that they do think the only expedient left to preserve unity between the two Houses is, that they do put a stop to any proceedings upon their late judgement against the East India Company, till their next meeting; to which the Lords returned answer that they would return answer to them by a messenger of their own,4032 which they not presently doing, they were all inflamed, and thought it was only a trick, to keep them in suspense till the King come to adjourne them; and, so, rather than lose the opportunity of doing themselves right, they presently with great fury come to this vote: “That whoever should assist in the execution of the judgement of the Lords against the Company, should be held betrayers of the liberties of the people of England, and of the privileges of that House.” This the Lords had notice of, and were mad at it; and so continued debating without any design to yield to the Commons, till the King come in, and sent for the Commons, where the Speaker made a short but silly speech, about their giving Him £300,000; and then the several Bills, their titles were read, and the King’s assent signified in the proper terms, according to the nature of the Bills, of which about three or four were public Bills, and seven or eight private ones, the additional Bills for the building of the City and the Bill against Conventicles being none of them. The King did make a short, silly speech, which he read, giving them thanks for the money, which now, he said, he did believe would be sufficient, because there was peace between his neighbours, which was a kind of a slur, methought, to the Commons; and that he was sorry for what he heard of difference between the two Houses, but that he hoped their recess would put them into a way of accommodation; and so adjourned them to the 9th of August, and then recollected himself, and told them the 11th; so imperfect a speaker he is. So the Commons went to their House, and forthwith adjourned; and the Lords resumed their House, the King being gone, and sat an hour or two after, but what they did, I cannot tell; but everybody expected they would commit Sir Andrew Rickard, Sir Samuel Barnardiston,4033 Mr. Boone, and Mr. Wynne, who were all there, and called in, upon their knees, to the bar of the House; and Sir John Robinson I left there, endeavouring to prevent their being committed to the Tower,4034 lest he should thereby be forced to deny their order, because of this vote of the Commons, whereof he is one, which is an odde case.4035 Thence I to the Rose Tavern in Covent Garden, and there sent for a pullet and dined all alone, being to meet Sir W. Penn, who by and by come, and he and I into the King’s house, and there The Maid’s Tragedy, a good play, but Knepp not there; and my head and eyes out of order, the first from my drinking wine at dinner, and the other from my much work in the morning. Thence parted, and I towards the New Exchange and there bought a pair of black silk stockings at the hosier’s that hath the very pretty woman to his wife, about ten doors on this side of the ’Change, and she is indeed very pretty, but I think a notable talking woman by what I heard to others there. Thence to Westminster Hall, where I hear the Lords are up, but what they have done I know not, and so walked toward Whitehall and thence by water to the Tower, and so home and there to my letters, and so to Sir W. Penn’s; and there did talk with Mrs. Lowther, who is very kind to me, more than usual, and I will make use of it. She begins to draw very well, and I think do as well, if not better, than my wife, if it be true that she do it herself, what she shows me, and so to bed, and my head aching all night with the wine I drank today, and my eyes ill. So lay long, my head pretty well in the morning.
. Up, and to the office, there to do business till church time, when Mr. Shepley, newly come to town, come to see me, and we had some discourse of all matters, and particularly of my Lord Sandwich’s concernments, and here did by the by as he would seem tell me that my Lady4036 had it in her thoughts, if she had occasion, to borrow £100 of me, which I did not declare any opposition to, though I doubt it will be so much lost. But, however, I will not deny my Lady, if she ask it, whatever comes of it, though it be lost; but shall be glad that it is no bigger sum. And yet it vexes me though, and the more because it brings into my head some apprehensions what trouble I may here after be brought to when my Lord comes home, if he should ask me to come into bonds with him, as I fear he will have occasions to make money, but I hope I shall have the wit to deny it. He being gone, I to church, and so home, and there comes W. Hewer and Balty, and by and by I sent for Mercer to come and dine with me, and pretty merry, and after dinner I fell to teach her “Canite Jehovæ,” which she did a great part presently, and so she away, and I to church, and from church home with my Lady Penn; and, after being there an hour or so talking, I took her, and Mrs. Lowther, and old Mrs. Whistler, her mother-in-law, by water with great pleasure as far as Chelsy, and so back to Spring Garden, at Fox-hall, and there walked, and eat, and drank, and so to water again, and set down the old woman at home at Durham Yard:4037 and it raining all the way, it troubled us; but, however, my cloak kept us all dry, and so home, and at the Tower wharf there we did send for a pair of old shoes for Mrs. Lowther, and there I did pull the others off and put them on, elle being peu shy, but do speak con mighty kindness to me that she would desire me poursu mari if it were to be done. … Here stayed a little at Sir W. Penn’s, who was gone to bed, it being about eleven at night, and so I home to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where alone all the morning. About noon comes to me my cousin Sarah, and my aunt Livett, newly come out of Gloucestershire, good woman, and come to see me; I took them home, and made them drink, but they would not stay dinner, I being alone. But here they tell me that they hear that this day Kate Joyce was to be married4038 to a man called Hollingshed, whom she indeed did once tell me of, and desired me to enquire after him. But, whatever she said of his being rich, I do fear, by her doing this without my advice, it is not as it ought to be; but, as she brews, let her bake. They being gone, I to dinner with Balty and his wife, who is come to town today from Deptford to see us, and after dinner I out and took a coach, and called Mercer, and she and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Tempest, and between two acts, I went out to Mr. Harris, and got him to repeat to me the words of the Echo, while I writ them down, having tried in the play to have wrote them; but, when I had done it, having done it without looking upon my paper, I find I could not read the blacklead. But now I have got the words clear, and, in going in thither, had the pleasure to see the actors in their several dresses, especially the seamen and monster, which were very droll: so into the play again. But there happened one thing which vexed me, which is, that the orange-woman did come in the pit, and challenge me for twelve oranges, which she delivered by my order at a late play, at night, to give to some ladies in a box, which was wholly untrue, but yet she swore it to be true. But, however, I did deny it, and did not pay her; but, for quiet, did buy 4s. worth of oranges of her, at 6d. apiece. Here I saw first my Lord Ormond since his coming from Ireland, which is now about eight days. After the play done, I took Mercer by water to Spring Garden; and there with great pleasure walked, and eat, and drank, and sang, making people come about us, to hear us, and two little children of one of our neighbours that happened to be there, did come into our arbour, and we made them dance prettily. So by water, with great pleasure, down to the Bridge, and there landed, and took water again on the other side; and so to the Tower, and I saw her home, I myself home to my chamber, and by and by to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat, and sat all the morning. Here Lord Anglesey was with us, and in talk about the late difference between the two Houses, do tell us that he thinks the House of Lords may be in an error, at least, it is possible they may, in this matter of Skinner; and he doubts they may, and did declare his judgement in the House of Lords against their proceedings therein, he having hindered 100 originall causes being brought into their House, notwithstanding that he was put upon defending their proceedings: but that he is confident that the House of Commons are in the wrong, in the method they take to remedy an error of the Lords, for no vote of theirs can do it; but, in all like cases, the Commons have done it by petition to the King, sent up to the Lords, and by them agreed to, and so redressed, as they did in the Petition of Right. He says that he did tell them indeed, which is talked of, and which did vex the Commons, that the Lords were Judices nati et Conciliarii nati; but all other judges among us are under salary, and the Commons themselves served for wages; and therefore the Lords, in reason, were the freer judges. At noon to dinner at home, and after dinner, where Creed dined with me, he and I, by water to the Temple, where we parted, and I both to the King’s and Duke of York’s playhouses, and there went through the houses to see what faces I could spy that I knew, and meeting none, I away by coach to my house, and then to Mrs. Mercer’s, where I met with her two daughters, and a pretty lady I never knew yet, one Mrs. Susan Gayet, a very pretty black lady, that speaks French well, and is a Catholick, and merchant’s daughter, by us, and here was also Mrs. Anne Jones, and after sitting and talking a little, I took them out, and carried them through Hackney to Kingsland, and there walked to Sir G. Whitmore’s house, where I have not been many a day; and so to the old house at Islington, and eat, and drank, and sang, and mighty merry; and so by moonshine with infinite pleasure home, and there sang again in Mercer’s garden. And so parted, I having there seen a mummy in a merchant’s warehouse there, all the middle of the man or woman’s body, black and hard. I never saw any before, and, therefore, it pleased me much, though an ill sight; and he did give me a little bit, and a bone of an arme, I suppose, and so home, and there to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and so to Sir H. Cholmly’s, who not being up I made a short visit to Sir W. Coventry, and he and I through the Park to Whitehall, and thence I back into the Park, and there met Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to Sir Stephen Fox’s, where we met and considered the business of the Excise, how far it is charged in reference to the payment of the Guards and Tangier. Thence he and I walked to Westminster Hall and there took a turn, it being holyday, and so back again, and I to the mercer’s, and my tailor’s about a stuff suit that I am going to make. Thence, at noon, to Hercules Pillars, and there dined all alone, and so to Whitehall, some of us attended the Duke of York as usual, and so to attend the Council about the business of Hemskirke’s project of building a ship that sails two feet for one of any other ship,4039 which the Council did agree to be put in practice, the King to give him, if it proves good, £5,000 in hand, and £15,000 more in seven years, which, for my part, I think a piece of folly for them to meddle with, because the secret cannot be long kept. So thence, after Council, having drunk some of the King’s wine and water with Mr. Chevins,4040 my Lord Brouncker, and some others, I by water to the Old Swan, and there to Michell’s, and did see her and drink there, but he being there je ne baiser la; and so back again by water to Spring Garden all alone, and walked a little, and so back again home, and there a little to my viol, and so to bed, Mrs. Turner having sat and supped with me. This morning I hear that last night Sir Thomas Teddiman, poor man! did die by a thrush in his mouth: a good man, and stout and able, and much lamented; though people do make a little mirth, and say, as I believe it did in good part, that the business of the Parliament did break his heart, or, at least, put him into this fever and disorder, that caused his death.
. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner with my people, but did not stay to dine out with them, but rose and straight by water to the Temple, and so to Penny’s, my tailor’s, where by and by by agreement Mercer, and she, to my great content, brings Mrs. Gayet, and I carried them to the King’s house; but, coming too soon, we out again to the Rose Tavern, and there I did give them a tankard of cool drink, the weather being very hot, and then into the playhouse again, and there saw The Country Captain,4041 a very dull play, that did give us no content, and besides, little company there, which made it very unpleasing. Thence to the waterside, at Strand bridge, and so up by water and to Fox-hall, where we walked a great while, and pleased mightily with the pleasure thereof, and the company there, and then in, and eat and drank, and then out again and walked, and it beginning to be dark, we to a corner and sang, that everybody got about us to hear us; and so home, where I saw them both at their doors, and, full of the content of this afternoon’s pleasure, I home and to walk in the garden a little, and so home to bed.
. Up, and betimes to Whitehall, and there met with Sir H. Cholmly at Sir Stephen Fox’s, and there was also the Cofferer, and we did there consider about our money and the condition of the Excise, and after much dispute agreed upon a state thereof and the manner of our future course of payments. Thence to the Duke of York, and there did a little navy business as we used to do, and so to a Committee for Tangier, where God knows how my Lord Bellasses’s accounts passed; understood by nobody but my Lord Ashly, who, I believe, was mad to let them go as he pleased. But here Sir H. Cholmly had his propositions read, about a greater price for his work of the Mole, or to do it upon account, which, being read, he was bid to withdraw. But, Lord! to see how unlucky a man may be, by chance; for, making an unfortunate minute when they were almost tired with the other business, the Duke of York did find fault with it, and that made all the rest, that I believe he had better have given a great deal, and had nothing said to it today; whereas, I have seen other things more extravagant passed at first hearing, without any difficulty. Thence I to my Lord Brouncker’s, at Mrs. Williams’s, and there dined, and she did show me her closet, which I was sorry to see, for fear of her expecting something from me; and here she took notice of my wife’s not once coming to see her, which I am glad of; for she shall not—a prating, vain, idle woman. Thence with Lord Brouncker to Loriners’-hall,4042 by Mooregate, a hall I never heard of before, to Sir Thomas Teddiman’s burial, where most people belonging to the sea were. And here we had rings: and here I do hear that some of the last words that he said were, that he had a very good King, God bless him! but that the Parliament had very ill rewarded him for all the service he had endeavoured to do them and his country; so that, for certain, this did go far towards his death. But, Lord! to see among [the company] the young commanders, and Thomas Killigrew and others that come, how unlike a burial this was, O’Brian taking out some ballads out of his pocket, which I read, and the rest come about me to hear! and there very merry we were all, they being new ballets. By and by the corpse went; and I, with my Lord Brouncker, and Dr. Clerke, and Mr. Pierce, as far as the foot of London-bridge; and there we struck off into Thames Street, the rest going to Redriffe, where he is to be buried. And we ’light at the Temple, and there parted; and I to the King’s house, and there saw the last act of The Committee, thinking to have seen Knepp there, but she did not act. And so to my bookseller’s, and there carried home some books—among others, Dr. Wilkins’s Real Character, and thence to Mrs. Turner’s, and there went and sat, and she showed me her house from top to bottom, which I had not seen before, very handsome, and here supped, and so home, and got Mercer, and she and I in the garden singing till ten at night, and so home to a little supper, and then parted, with great content, and to bed. The Duchess of Monmouth’s hip is, I hear, now set again, after much pain.4043 I am told also that the Countess of Shrewsbury is brought home by the Duke of Buckingham to his house, where his Duchess saying that it was not for her and the other to live together in a house, he answered, “Why, Madam, I did think so, and, therefore, have ordered your coach to be ready, to carry you to your father’s,”4044 which was a devilish speech, but, they say, true; and my Lady Shrewsbury is there, it seems.
. Up; and to the Office, where we sat all the morning; and at noon, home with my people to dinner; and thence to the Office all the afternoon, till, my eyes weary, I did go forth by coach to the King’s playhouse, and there saw the best part of The Sea Voyage,4045 where Knepp I see do her part of sorrow very well. I afterwards to her house; but she did not come presently home; and there je did kiss her ancilla, which is so mighty belle; and I to my tailor’s, and to buy me a belt for my new suit against tomorrow; and so home, and there to my Office, and afterwards late walking in the garden; and so home to supper, and to bed, after Nell’s cutting of my hair close, the weather being very hot.
. Up, and put on my new stuff-suit, with a shoulder-belt, according to the new fashion, and the bands of my vest and tunic laced with silk lace, of the colour of my suit: and so, very handsome, to Church, where a dull sermon and of a stranger, and so home; and there I find W. Howe, and a younger brother of his, come to dine with me; and there comes Mercer, and brings with her Mrs. Gayet, which pleased me mightily; and here was also W. Hewer, and mighty merry; and after dinner to sing psalms. But, Lord! to hear what an excellent base this younger brother of W. Howe’s sings, even to my astonishment, and mighty pleasant. By and by Gayet goes away, being a Catholick, to her devotions, and Mercer to church; but we continuing an hour or two singing, and so parted; and I to Sir W. Penn’s, and there sent for a hackney-coach; and he and she [Lady Penn] and I out, to take the air. We went to Stepney, and there stopped at the Trinity House, he to talk with the servants there against tomorrow,4046 which is a great day for the choice of a new Master, and thence to Mile End, and there eat and drank, and so home; and I supped with them—that is, eat some butter and radishes, which is my excuse for not eating any other of their victuals, which I hate, because of their sluttery: and so home, and made my boy read to me part of Dr. Wilkins’s new book of the Real Character; and so to bed.
. Up, and to my office, where most of the morning doing business and seeing my window-frames new painted, and then I out by coach to my Lord Bellasses, at his new house by my late Lord Treasurer’s,4047 and there met him and Mr. Sherwin, Auditor Beale, and Creed, about my Lord’s accounts, and here my Lord showed me his new house, which, indeed, is mighty noble, and good pictures—indeed, not one bad one in it. Thence to my tailor’s, and there did find Mercer come with Mrs. Horsfield and Gayet according to my desire, and there I took them up, it being almost twelve o’clock, or a little more, and carried them to the King’s playhouse, where the doors were not then open; but presently they did open; and we in, and find many people already come in, by private ways, into the pit, it being the first day of Sir Charles Sidly’s new play, so long expected, The Mullberry Guarden,4048 of whom, being so reputed a wit, all the world do expect great matters. I having sat here awhile, and eat nothing today, did slip out, getting a boy to keep my place; and to the Rose Tavern, and there got half a breast of mutton, off of the spit, and dined all alone. And so to the play again, where the King and Queen, by and by, come, and all the Court; and the house infinitely full. But the play, when it come, though there was, here and there, a pretty saying, and that not very many neither, yet the whole of the play had nothing extraordinary in it, at all, neither of language nor design; insomuch that the King I did not see laugh, nor pleased the whole play from the beginning to the end, nor the company; insomuch that I have not been less pleased at a new play in my life, I think. And which made it the worse was, that there never was worse music played—that is, worse things composed, which made me and Captain Rolt, who happened to sit near me, mad. So away thence, very little satisfied with the play, but pleased with my company. I carried them to Kensington, to the Grotto, and there we sang, to my great content, only vexed, in going in, to see a son of Sir Heneage Finch’s4049 beating of a poor little dog to death, letting it lie in so much pain that made me mad to see it, till, by and by, the servants of the house chiding of their young master, one of them come with a thong, and killed the dog outright presently. Thence to Westminster palace, and there took boat and to Fox Hall, where we walked, and eat, and drank, and sang, and very merry. But I find Mrs. Horsfield one of the veriest citizen’s wives in the world, so full of little silly talk, and now and then a little sillily bawdy, that I believe if you had her sola a man might hazer all with her. So back by water to Westminster Palace, and there got a coach which carried us as far as the Minories, and there some thing of the traces broke, and we forced to ’light, and walked to Mrs. Horsfield’s house, it being a long and bad way, and dark, and having there put her in a doors, her husband being in bed, we left her and so back to our coach, where the coachman had put it in order, but could not find his whip in the dark a great while, which made us stay long. At last getting a neighbour to hold a candle out of their window Mercer found it, and so away we home at almost 12 at night, and setting them both at their homes, I home and to bed.
. Up, and called on Mr. Pierce, who tells me that after all this ado Ward is come to town, and hath appeared to the Commissioners of Accounts and given such answers as he thinks will do everybody right, and let the world see that their great expectations and jealousies have been vain in this matter of the prizes. The Commissioners were mighty inquisitive whether he was not instructed by letters or otherwise from hence from my Lord Sandwich’s friends what to say and do, and particularly from me, which he did wholly deny, as it was true, I not knowing the man that I know of. He tells me also that, for certain, Mr. Vaughan4050 is made Lord Chief justice, which I am glad of. He tells me, too, that since my Lord of Ormond’s coming over, the King begins to be mightily reclaimed, and sups every night with great pleasure with the Queen: and yet, it seems, he is mighty hot upon the Duchess of Richmond; insomuch that, upon Sunday was sennight, at night, after he had ordered his Guards and coach to be ready to carry him to the Park, he did, on a sudden, take a pair of oars or sculler, and all alone, or but one with him, go to Somersett House, and there, the garden-door not being open, himself clamber over the walls to make a visit to her, which is a horrid shame. He gone, I to the office, where we sat all the morning, Sir W. Penn sick of the gout comes not out. After dinner at home, to Whitehall, it being a very rainy day, and there a Committee for Tangier, where I was mightily pleased to see Sir W. Coventry fall upon my Lord Bellasses’ business of the 3d. in every piece of it which he would get to himself, making the King pay 4s. 9d. while he puts them off for 4s. 6d., so that Sir W. Coventry continues still the same man for the King’s good. But here Creed did vex me with saying that I ought first to have my account past by the Commissioners of Tangier before in the Exchequer. Thence W. Coventry and I in the Matted gallery, and there he did talk very well to me about the way to save the credit of the officers of the Navy, and their places too, by making use of this interval of Parliament to be found to be mending of matters in the Navy, and that nothing but this will do it, and gives an instance in themselves of the Treasury, whereof himself and Sir John Duncombe all the world knows have enemies, and my Lord Ashly a man obnoxious to most, and Sir Thomas Clifford one that as a man suddenly rising and a creature of my Lord Arlington’s hath enemies enough (none of them being otherwise but the Duke of Albemarle), yet with all this fault they hear nothing of the business of the Treasury, but all well spoken of there. He is for the removal of Sir John Minnes, thinking that thereby the world will see a greater change in the hands than now they do; and I will endeavour it, and endeavour to do some good in the office also. So home by coach, and to the office, where ended my letters, and then home, and there got Balty to read to me out of Sorbiere’s Observations in His Voyage Into England,4051 and then to bed.
. Up, and with Colonel Middleton, in a new coach he hath made him, very handsome, to Whitehall, where the Duke of York having removed his lodgings for this year to St. James’s, we walked thither; and there find the Duke of York coming to Whitehall, and so back to the Council-chamber, where the Committee of the Navy sat; and here we discoursed several things; but, Lord! like fools; so as it was a shame to see things of this importance managed by a Council that understand nothing of them: and, among other things, one was about this building of a ship with Hemskirke’s secret, to sail a third faster than any other ship; but he hath got Prince Rupert on his side, and by that means, I believe, will get his conditions made better than he would otherwise, or ought indeed. Having done there, I met with Sir Richard Browne,4052 and he took me to dinner with him to a new tavern, above Charing Cross, where some clients of his did give him a good dinner, and good company; among others, one Bovy, a solicitor,4053 and lawyer and merchant all together, who hath travelled very much, did talk some things well; but only he is a “Sir Positive:”4054 but the talk of their travels over the Alps very fine. Thence walked to the King’s playhouse, and saw The Mulberry Garden again, and cannot be reconciled to it, but only to find here and there an independent sentence of wit, and that is all. Here met with Creed; and took him to Hales’s, and there saw the beginnings of Harris’s head which he draws for me, which I do not yet like. So he and I down to the New Exchange, and there cheapened ribbons for my wife, and so down to the Whey house and drank some and eat some curds, which did by and by make my belly ache mightily. So he and I to Whitehall, and walked over the Park to the Mulberry-Garden,4055 where I never was before; and find it a very silly place, worse than Spring-garden, and but little company, and those a rascally, whoring, roguing sort of people, only a wilderness here, that is somewhat pretty, but rude. Did not stay to drink, but walked an hour and so away to Charing Cross, and there took coach and away home, in my way going into Bishopsgate Street, to bespeak places for myself and boy to go to Cambridge in the coach this week, and so to Brampton, to see my wife. So home, and to supper and to bed.
. Up, and busy to send some things into the country, and then to the Office, where meets me Sir Richard Ford, who among other things congratulates me, as one or two did yesterday, [on] my great purchase; and he advises me rather to forbear, if it be not done, as a thing that the world will envy me in: and what is it but my cousin Tom Pepys’s buying of Martin Abbey,4056 in Surry! which is a mistake I am sorry for, and yet do fear that it may spread in the world to my prejudice. All the morning at the office, and at noon my clerks dined with me, and there do hear from them how all the town is full of the talk of a meteor, or some fire, that did on Saturday last fly over the City at night, which do put me in mind that, being then walking in the dark an hour or more myself in the garden, after I had done writing, I did see a light before me come from behind me, which made me turn back my head; and I did see a sudden fire or light running in the sky, as it were towards Cheapside ward, and it vanished very quick, which did make me bethink myself what holyday it was, and took it for some rocket, though it was much brighter than any rocket, and so thought no more of it, but it seems Mr. Hater and Gibson going home that night did meet with many clusters of people talking of it, and many people of the towns about the city did see it, and the world do make much discourse of it, their apprehensions being mighty full of the rest of the City to be burned, and the Papists to cut our throats. Which God prevent! Thence after dinner I by coach to the Temple, and there bought a new book of songs set to music by one Smith of Oxford, some songs of Mr. Cowley’s, and so to Westminster, and there to walk a little in the Hall, and so to Mrs. Martin’s, and there did hazer cet que je voudraimit her, and drank and sat most of the afternoon with her and her sister, and here she promises me her fine starling, which was the King’s, and speaks finely, which I shall be glad of, and so walked to the Temple, meeting in the street with my cousin Alcocke,4057 the young man, that is a good sober youth, I have not seen these four or five years, newly come to town to look for employment: but I cannot serve him, though I think he deserves well, and so I took coach and home to my business, and in the evening took Mrs. Turner and Mercer out to Mile End and drank, and then home, and sang; and eat a dish of greene peas, the first I have seen this year, given me by Mr. Gibson, extraordinary young and pretty, and so saw them at home, and so home to bed. Sir W. Penn continues ill of the gout.
. Up, and all the morning at the office busy. At noon home with my people to dinner, where good discourse and merry. After dinner comes Mr. Martin, the purser, and brings me his wife’s starling, which was formerly the King’s bird, that do speak and whistle finely, which I am mighty proud of and shall take pleasure in it. Thence to the Duke of York’s house to a play, and saw Sir Martin Marr-All, where the house is full; and though I have seen it, I think, ten times, yet the pleasure I have is yet as great as ever, and is undoubtedly the best comedy ever was wrote. Thence to my tailor’s and a mercer’s for patterns to carry my wife of cloth and silk for a bed, which I think will please her and me, and so home, and fitted myself for my journey tomorrow, which I fear will not be pleasant, because of the wet weather, it raining very hard all this day; but the less it troubles me because the King and Duke of York and Court are at this day at Newmarket, at a great horse-race, and proposed great pleasure for two or three days, but are in the same wet. So from the office home to supper, and betimes to bed.
. Up by four o’clock; and, getting my things ready, and recommending the care of my house to W. Hewer, I with my boy Tom, whom I take with me, to the Bull, in Bishopsgate Street,4058 and there, about six, took coach, he and I, and a gentleman and his man, there being another coach also, with as many more, I think, in it; and so away to Bishop’s Stafford,4059 and there dined, and changed horses and coach, at Mrs. Aynsworth’s;4060 but I took no knowledge of her. Here the gentleman and I to dinner, and in comes Captain Forster, an acquaintance of his, he that do belong to my Lord Anglesey, who had been at the late horse-races at Newmarket, where the King now is, and says that they had fair weather there yesterday, though we here, and at London, had nothing but rain, insomuch that the ways are mighty full of water, so as hardly to be passed. Here I hear Mrs. Aynsworth is going to live at London: but I believe will be mistaken in it; for it will be found better for her to be chief where she is, than to have little to do at London. There being many finer than she there. After dinner away again and come to Cambridge, after much bad way, about nine at night; and there, at the Rose, I met my father’s horses, with a man, staying for me. But it is so late, and the waters so deep, that I durst not go tonight; but after supper to bed; and there lay very ill, by reason of some drunken scholars making a noise all night, and vexed for fear that the horses should not be taken up from grass, time enough for the morning. Well pleased all this journey with the conversation of him that went with me, who I think is a lawyer, and lives about Lynne, but his name I did not ask.
. I up, at between two and three in the morning, and, calling up my boy, and father’s boy, we set out by three o’clock, it being high day; and so through the water with very good success, though very deep almost all the way, and got to Brampton, where most of them in bed, and so I weary up to my wife’s chamber, whom I find in bed, and pretended a little not well, and indeed she hath those upon her, but fell to talk and mightily pleased both of us, and upgot the rest, Betty Turner and Willet and Jane, all whom I was glad to see, and very merry, and got me ready in my new stuff clothes that I send down before me, and so my wife and they got ready too, while I to my father, poor man, and walked with him up and down the house—it raining a little, and the waters all over Portholme and the meadows, so as no pleasure abroad. Here I saw my brothers and sister Jackson, she growing fat, and, since being married, I think looks comelier than before: but a mighty pert woman she is, and I think proud, he keeping her mighty handsome, and they say mighty fond, and are going shortly to live at Ellington of themselves, and will keep malting, and grazing of cattle. At noon comes Mr. Phillips and dines with us, and a pretty odd-humoured man he seems to be; but good withal, but of mighty great methods in his eating and drinking, and will not kiss a woman since his wife’s death. After dinner my Lady Sandwich sending to see whether I was come, I presently took horse, and find her and her family at chapel; and thither I went in to them, and sat out the sermon, where I heard Jervas Fullwood, now their chaplain, preach a very good and seraphic kind of sermon, too good for an ordinary congregation. After sermon, I with my Lady, and my Lady Hinchingbroke, and Paulina, and Lord Hinchingbroke, to the dining room, saluting none of them, and there sat and talked an hour or two, with great pleasure and satisfaction, to my Lady, about my Lord’s matters; but I think not with that satisfaction to her, or me, that otherwise would, she knowing that she did design tomorrow, and I remaining all the while in fear, of being asked to lend her some money, as I was afterward, when I had taken leave of her, by Mr. Shepley, £100, which I will not deny my Lady, and am willing to be found when my Lord comes home to have done something of that kind for them, and so he riding to Brampton and supping there with me he did desire it of me from my Lady, and I promised it, though much against my will, for I fear it is as good as lost. After supper, where very merry, we to bed, myself very weary and to sleep all night.
. Waked betimes, and lay long … and there fell to talking, and by and by rose, it being the first fair day, and yet not quite fair, that we have had some time, and so up, and to walk with my father again in the garden, consulting what to do with him and this house when Pall and her husband go away; and I think it will be to let it, and he go live with her, though I am against letting the house for any long time, because of having it to retire to, ourselves. So I do intend to think more of it before I resolve. By and by comes Mr. Cooke to see me and so spent the morning, and he gone by and by at noon to dinner, where Mr. Shepley come and we merry, all being in good humour between my wife and her people about her, and after dinner took horse, I promising to fetch her away about fourteen days hence, and so calling all of us, we men on horseback, and the women and my father, at Goody Gorum’s, and there in a frolic drinking I took leave, there going with me and my boy, my two brothers,4061 and one Browne, whom they call in mirth Colonel, for our guide, and also Mr. Shepley, to the end of Huntingdon, and another gentleman who accidentally come thither, one Mr. Castle; and I made them drink at the Chequers, where I observed the same tapster, Tom, that was there when I was a little boy and so we, at the end of the town, took leave of Shepley and the other gentleman, and so we away and got well to Cambridge, about seven to the Rose, the waters not being now so high as before. And here ’lighting, I took my boy and two brothers, and walked to Magdalene College: and there into the butteries, as a stranger, and there drank my bellyful of their beer, which pleased me, as the best I ever drank: and hear by the butler’s man, who was son to Goody Mulliner over against the College, that we used to buy stewed prunes of, concerning the College and persons in it; and find very few, only Mr. Hollins4062 and Pechell,4063 I think, that were of my time. But I was mightily pleased to come in this condition to see and ask, and thence, giving the fellow something, away walked to Chesterton, to see our old walk, and there into the Church, the bells ringing, and saw the place I used to sit in, and so to the ferry, and ferried over to the other side, and walked with great pleasure, the river being mighty high by Barnewell Abbey: and so by Jesus College to the town, and so to our quarters, and to supper, and then to bed, being very weary and sleepy and mightily pleased with this night’s walk.
. Up by four o’clock; and by the time we were ready, and had eat, we were called to the coach, where about six o’clock we set out, there being a man and two women of one company, ordinary people, and one lady alone, that is tolerably handsome, but mighty well spoken, whom I took great pleasure in talking to, and did get her to read aloud in a book she was reading, in the coach, being the King’s Meditations;4064 and then the boy and I to sing, and so about noon come to Bishop’s Stafford, to another house than what we were at the other day, and better used. And here I paid for the reckoning 11s., we dining together, and pretty merry; and then set out again, sleeping most part of the way; and got to Bishopsgate Street before eight o’clock, the waters being now most of them down, and we avoiding the bad way in the forest4065 by a privy way, which brought us to Hodsden; and so to Tibalds,4066 that road, which was mighty pleasant. So home, where we find all well, and brother Balty and his wife looking to the house, she mighty fine, in a new gold-laced just à cour.4067 I shifted myself, and so to see Mrs. Turner, and Mercer appearing over the way, called her in, and sat and talked, and then home to my house by and by, and there supped and talked mighty merry, and then broke up and to bed, being a little vexed at what W. Hewer tells me Sir John Shaw4068 did this day in my absence say at the Board, complaining of my doing of him injury and the board permitting it, whereas they had more reason to except against his attributing that to me alone which I could not do but with their condent and direction, it being to very good service to the King, and which I shall be proud to have imputed to me alone. The King I hear come to town last night.
. Up, and to the office, where some time upon Sir D. Gawden’s accounts, and then I by water to Westminster for some Tangier orders, and so meeting with Mr. Sawyer,4069 my old chamber-fellow, he and I by water together to the Temple, he giving me an account of the base, rude usage, which he and Sir G. Carteret had lately, before the Commissioners of Accounts, where he was, as Counsel to Sir G. Carteret, which I was sorry to hear, they behaving themselves like most insolent and ill-mannered men. Thence by coach to the Exchange, and there met with Sir H. Cholmly at Colvill’s; and there did give him some orders, and so home, and there to the office again, where busy till two o’clock, and then with Sir D. Gawden to his house, with my Lord Brouncker and Sir J. Minnes, to dinner, where we dined very well, and much good company, among others, a Dr. ⸻, a fat man, whom by face I know, as one that uses to sit in our church, that after dinner did take me out, and walked together, who told me that he had now newly entered himself into Orders, in the decay of the Church, and did think it his duty so to do, thereby to do his part toward the support and reformation thereof; and spoke very soberly, and said that just about the same age Dr. Donne4070 did enter into Orders. I find him a sober gentleman, and a man that hath seen much of the world, and I think may do good. Thence after dinner to the office, and there did a little business, and so to see Sir W. Penn, who I find still very ill of the gout, sitting in his great chair, made on purpose for persons sick of that disease, for their ease; and this very chair, he tells me, was made for my Lady Lambert.4071 Thence I by coach to my tailor’s, there to direct about the making of me another suit, and so to Whitehall, and through St. James’s Park to St. James’s, thinking to have met with Mr. Wren, but could not, and so homeward toward the New Exchange, and meeting Mr. Creed he and I to drink some whey at the whey-house, and so into the ’Change and took a walk or two, and so home, and there vexed at my boy’s being out of doors till ten at night, but it was upon my brother Jackson’s business, and so I was the less displeased, and then made the boy to read to me out of Dr. Wilkins his Real Character, and particularly about Noah’s arke, where he do give a very good account thereof, showing how few the number of the several species of beasts and fowls were that were to be in the arke, and that there was room enough for them and their food and dung, which do please me mightily and is much beyond what ever I heard of the subject, and so to bed.
. Up, to set right some little matters of my Tangier accounts, and so to the office, where busy all the morning, and then home with my people to dinner, and after dinner comes about a petition for a poor woman whose ticket she would get paid, and so talked a little and did baiser her, and so to the office, being pleased that this morning my bookseller brings me home Marcennus’s book of music,4072 which costs me £3 2s.; but is a very fine book. So to the office and did some business, and then by coach to the New Exchange, and there by agreement at my bookseller’s shop met Mercer and Gayet, and took them by water, first to one of the Neat-houses,4073 where walked in the garden, but nothing but a bottle of wine to be had, though pleased with seeing the garden; and so to Fox Hall, where with great pleasure we walked, and then to the upper end of the further retired walk, and there sat and sang, and brought great many gallants and fine people about us, and, upon the bench, we did by and by eat and drink what we had, and very merry: and so with much pleasure to the Old Swan, and walked with them home, and there left them, and so I home to my business at the office a little, and so to bed.
. Betimes up, and up to my Tangier accounts, and then by water to the Council Chamber, and there received some directions from the Duke of York and the Committee of the Navy there about casting up the charge of the present summer’s fleet, that so they may come within the bounds of the sum given by the Parliament. But it is pretty to see how Prince Rupert and other mad, silly people, are for setting out but a little fleet, there being no occasion for it; and say it will be best to save the money for better uses. But Sir W. Coventry did declare that, in wisdom, it was better to do so; but that, in obedience to the Parliament, he was [for] setting out the fifty sail talked on, though it spent all the money, and to little purpose; and that this was better than to leave it to the Parliament to make bad construction of their thrift, if any trouble should happen. Thus wary the world is grown! Thence back again presently home, and did business till noon: and then to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner, with much good company, it being the King’s birthday, and many healths drunk: and here I did receive another letter from my Lord Sandwich, which troubles me to see how I have neglected him, in not writing, or but once, all this time of his being abroad; and I see he takes notice, but yet gently, of it, that it puts me to great trouble, and I know not how to get out of it, having no good excuse, and too late now to mend, he being coming home. Thence home, whither, by agreement, by and by comes Mercer and Gayet, and two gentlemen with them, Mr. Monteith and Pelham, the former a swaggering young handsome gentleman, the latter a sober citizen merchant. Both sing, but the latter with great skill—the other, no skill, but a good voice, and a good basse, but used to sing only tavern tunes; and so I spent all this evening till eleven at night singing with them, till I was tired of them, because of the swaggering fellow with the base, though the girl Mercer did mightily commend him before to me. This night je had agreed para aller at Deptford, there para avoir lain con the moher de Bagwell, but this company did hinder me.
. Up, and put on a new summer black bombazin suit, and so to the office; and being come now to an agreement with my barber, to keep my periwig in good order at 20s. a-year, I am like to go very spruce, more than I used to do. All the morning at the office and at noon home to dinner, and so to the King’s playhouse, and there saw Philaster;4074 where it is pretty to see how I could remember almost all along, ever since I was a boy, Arethusa, the part which I was to have acted at Sir Robert Cooke’s; and it was very pleasant to me, but more to think what a ridiculous thing it would have been for me to have acted a beautiful woman. Thence to Mr. Pierce’s, and there saw Knepp also, and were merry; and here saw my little Lady Katherine Montagu4075 come to town, about her eyes, which are sore, and they think the King’s evil, poor, pretty lady.4076 Here I was freed from a fear that Knepp was angry or might take advantage to declare the essay that je did the other day, quand je was con her … Thence to the New Exchange, and there met Harris and Rolt, and one Richards, a tailor and great company-keeper, and with these over to Fox Hall, and there fell into the company of Harry Killigrew, a rogue newly come back out of France, but still in disgrace at our Court, and young Newport and others, as very rogues as any in the town, who were ready to take hold of every woman that come by them. And so to supper in an arbour: but, Lord! their mad bawdy talk did make my heart ache! And here I first understood by their talk the meaning of the company that lately were called Ballets; Harris telling how it was by a meeting of some young blades, where he was among them, and my Lady Bennet4077 and her ladies; and their there dancing naked, and all the roguish things in the world. But, Lord! what loose cursed company was this, that I was in tonight, though full of wit; and worth a man’s being in for once, to know the nature of it, and their manner of talk, and lives. Thence set Rolt and some of [them] at the New Exchange, and so I home, and my business being done at the office, I to bed.
. Up, and to church in the morning. At noon I sent for Mr. Mills and his wife and daughter to dine, and they dined with me, and W. Hewer, and very good company, I being in good humour. They gone to church, comes Mr. Tempest, and he and I sang a psalm or two, and so parted, and I by water to the New Exchange, and there to Mrs. Pierce’s, where Knepp, and she, and W. Howe, and Mr. Pierce, and little Betty, over to Fox Hall, and there walked and supped with great pleasure. Here was Mrs. Manuel also, and mighty good company, and good mirth in making W. Howe spend his six or seven shillings, and so they called him altogether “Cully.”4078 So back, and at Somerset-stairs do understand that a boy is newly drowned, washing himself there, and they cannot find his body. So seeing them home, I home by water, W. Howe going with me, and after some talk he lay at my house, and all to bed. Here I hear that Mrs. Davis is quite gone from the Duke of York’s house, and Gosnell comes in her room, which I am glad of. At the play at Court the other night, Mrs. Davis was there; and when she was to come to dance her jig, the Queen would not stay to see it, which people do think it was out of displeasure at her being the King’s whore, that she could not bear it. My Lady Castlemayne is, it seems, now mightily out of request, the King coming little to her, and thus she mighty melancholy and discontented.
June 1668
. Up and with Sir J. Minnes to Westminster, and in the Hall there I met with Harris and Rolt, and carried them to the Rhenish wine-house,4079 where I have not been in a morning—nor any tavern, I think, these seven years and more. Here I did get the words of a song of Harris that I wanted. Here also Mr. Young and Whistler by chance met us, and drank with us. Thence home, and to prepare business against the afternoon, and did walk an hour in the garden with Sir W. Warren, who do tell me of the great difficulty he is under in the business of his accounts with the Commissioners of Parliament, and I fear some inconveniences and troubles may be occasioned thereby to me. So to dinner, and then with Sir J. Minnes to Whitehall, and there attended the Lords of the Treasury and also a committee of Council with the Duke of York about the charge of this year’s fleet, and thence I to Westminster and to Mrs. Martin’s, and did hazer what je would con her, and did once toker la thigh desu landlady, and thence all alone to Fox Hall, and walked and saw young Newport, and two more rogues of the town, seize on two ladies, who walked with them an hour with their masks on; perhaps civil ladies; and there I left them, and so home, and thence to Mr. Mills’s, where I never was before, and here find, whom I indeed saw go in, and that did make me go thither, Mrs. Hallworthy and Mrs. Andrews, and here supped, and, extraordinary merry till one in the morning, Mr. Andrews coming to us: and mightily pleased with this night’s company and mirth I home to bed. Mrs. Turner, too, was with us.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and there dined with me, besides my own people, W. Batelier and Mercer, and we very merry. After dinner, they gone, only Mercer and I to sing a while, and then parted, and I out and took a coach, and called Mercer at their backdoor, and she brought with her Mrs. Knightly, a little pretty sober girl, and I carried them to Old Ford, a town by Bow, where I never was before, and there walked in the fields very pleasant, and sang: and so back again, and stopped and drank at the Gun, at Mile End, and so to the Old Exchange door, and did buy them a pound of cherries, cost me 2s., and so set them down again; and I to my little mercer’s Finch, that lives now in the Minories, where I have left my cloak, and did here baisersu moher, a belle femme, and there took my cloak which I had left there, and so by water, it being now about nine o’clock, down to Deptford, where I have not been many a day, and there it being dark I did by agreement aller à la house de Bagwell, and there after a little playing and baisando we did go up in the dark a su camera … and to my boat again, and against the tide home. Got there by twelve o’clock, taking into my boat, for company, a man that desired a passage—a certain western bargeman, with whom I had good sport, talking of the old woman of Woolwich,4080 and telling him the whole story.
. Up, and to the office, where busy till 9 o’clock, and then to Whitehall, to the Council-chamber, where I did present the Duke of York with an account of the charge of the present fleet, to his satisfaction; and this being done, did ask his leave for my going out of town five or six days, which he did give me, saying, that my diligence in the King’s business was such, that I ought not to be denied when my own business called me any whither. Thence with Sir D. Gawden to Westminster, where I did take a turn or two, and met Roger Pepys, who is mighty earnest for me to stay from going into the country till he goes, and to bring my people thither for some time: but I cannot, but will find another time this summer for it. Thence with him home, and there to the office till noon, and then with Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir G. Carteret, upon whose accounts they have been this day to the Three Tuns to dinner, and thence back again home, and after doing a little business I by coach to the King’s house, and there saw good part of The Scornful Lady, and that done, would have taken out Knepp, but she was engaged, and so to my Lord Crew’s to visit him; from whom I learn nothing but that there hath been some controversy at the Council-table, about my Lord Sandwich’s signing, where some would not have had him, in the treaty with Portugal; but all, I think, is over in it. Thence by coach to Westminster to the Hall, and thence to the Park, where much good company, and many fine ladies; and in so handsome a hackney I was, that I believe Sir W. Coventry and others, who looked on me, did take me to be in one of my own, which I was a little troubled for. So to the lodge, and drank a cup of new milk, and so home, and there to Mrs. Turner’s, and sat and talked with her, and then home to bed, having laid my business with W. Hewer to go out of town Friday next, with hopes of a great deal of pleasure.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, dined with me and my clerks. After dinner I carried and set him down at the Temple, he observing to me how St. Sepulchre’s church steeple is repaired already4081 a good deal, and the Fleet Bridge is contracted for by the City to begin to be built this summer, which do please me mightily. I to Whitehall, and walked through the Park for a little air; and so back to the Council-chamber, to the Committee of the Navy, about the business of fitting the present fleet, suitable to the money given, which, as the King orders it, and by what appears, will be very little; and so as I perceive the Duke of York will have nothing to command, nor can intend to go abroad. But it is pretty to see how careful these great men are to do everything so as they may answer it to the Parliament, thinking themselves safe in nothing but where the judges, with whom they often advise, do say the matter is doubtful; and so they take upon themselves then to be the chief persons to interpret what is doubtful. Thence home, and all the evening to set matters in order against my going to Brampton tomorrow, being resolved upon my journey, and having the Duke of York’s leave again today; though I do plainly see that I can very ill be spared now, there being much business, especially about this, which I have attended the Council about, and I the man that am alone consulted with; and, besides, my Lord Brouncker is at this time ill, and Sir W. Penn. So things being put in order at the Office, I home to do the like there; and so to bed.
.4082 At Barnet, for milk, 6d. On the highway, to menders of the highway, 6d. Dinner at Stevenage, 5s. 6d.
. Spent at Huntingdon with Bowles, and Appleyard, and Shepley, 2s.
. My father, for money lent, and horse-hire £1 11s.
. Father’s servants (father having in the garden told me bad stories of my wife’s ill words), 14s.; one that helped at the horses, 2s.; menders of the highway, 2s. Pleasant country to Bedford, where, while they stay, I rode through the town; and a good country-town; and there, drinking, 1s. We on to Newport; and there ’light, and I and W. Hewer to the Church, and there give the boy 1s. So to Buckingham, a good old town. Here I to see the Church, which very good, and the leads, and a school in it: did give the sexton’s boy 1s. A fair bridge here, with many arches: vexed at my people’s making me lose so much time; reckoning, 13s. 4d. Mighty pleased with the pleasure of the ground all the day. At night to Newport Pagnell;4083 and there a good pleasant country-town, but few people in it. A very fair—and like a Cathedral—Church; and I saw the leads, and a vault that goes far under ground, and here lay with Betty Turner’s sparrow: the town, and so most of this country, well watered. Lay here well, and rose next day by four o’clock: few people in the town: and so away. Reckoning for supper, 19s. 6d.; poor, 6d. Mischance to the coach, but no time lost.
. When come to Oxford, a very sweet place: paid our guide, £1 2s. 6d.; barber, 2s. 6d.; book, Stonage, 4s.4084 To dinner; and then out with my wife and people, and landlord: and to him that showed us the schools and library, 10s.; to him that showed us All Souls’ College, and Chichly’s picture,4085 5s. So to see Christ Church with my wife, I seeing several others very fine alone, with W. Hewer, before dinner, and did give the boy that went with me 1s. Strawberries, 1s. 2d. Dinner and servants, £1 0s. 6d. After come home from the schools, I out with the landlord to Brazen-nose College;—to the butteries, and in the cellar find the hand of the Child of Hales,4086 … long. Butler, 2s. Thence with coach and people to Physic-garden, 1s. So to Friar Bacon’s study: I up and saw it, and give the man 1s. Bottle of sack for landlord, 2s. Oxford mighty fine place; and well seated, and cheap entertainment. At night come to Abingdon, where had been a fair of custard; and met many people and scholars going home; and there did get some pretty good music, and sang and danced till supper: 5s.
. Up, and walked to the Hospitall:4087 very large and fine; and pictures of founders, and the History4088 of the Hospitall; and is said to be worth £700 per annum; and that Mr. Foly4089 was here lately to see how their lands were settled; and here, in old English, the story of the occasion of it, and a rebus at the bottom.4090 So did give the poor, which they would not take but in their box, 2s. 6d. So to the inn, and paid the reckoning and whatnot, 13s. So forth towards Hungerford, led this good way by our landlord, one Heart, an old but very civil and well-spoken man, more than I ever heard, of his quality. He gone, we forward; and I vexed at my people’s not minding the way. So come to Hungerford, where very good trouts, eels, and crayfish. Dinner: a mean town. At dinner there, 12s. Thence set out with a guide, who saw us to Newmarket-heath,4091 and then left us, 3s. 6d. So all over the Plain by the sight of the steeple, the Plain high and low, to Salisbury, by night; but before I come to the town, I saw a great fortification, and there ’light, and to it and in it; and find it prodigious, so as to frighten me to be in it all alone at that time of night, it being dark. I understand, since, it to be that, that is called Old Sarum.4092 Come to the George Inne, where lay in a silk bed; and very good diet. To supper; then to bed.
. Up, and W. Hewer and I up and down the town, and find it a very brave place. The river goes through every street; and a most capacious marketplace. The city great, I think greater than Hereford. But the Minster most admirable;4093 as big, I think, and handsomer than Westminster: and a most large Close about it, and houses for the Officers thereof, and a fine palace for the Bishop. So to my lodging back, and took out my wife and people to show them the town and Church; but they being at prayers, we could not be shown the Choir. A very good organ; and I looked in, and saw the Bishop, my friend Dr. Ward.4094 Thence to the inne; and there not being able to hire coach-horses, and not willing to use our own, we got saddle-horses, very dear. Boy that went to look for them, 6d. So the three women behind W. Hewer, Murford, and our guide, and I single to Stonage; over the Plain and some great hills, even to fright us. Come thither, and find them as prodigious as any tales I ever heard of them, and worth going this journey to see. God knows what their use was! they are hard to tell, but yet maybe told. Give the shepherd-woman, for leading our horses, 4d. So back by Wilton, my Lord Pembroke’s house, which we could not see, he being just coming to town; but the situation I do not like, nor the house promise much, it being in a low but rich valley. So back home; and there being ’light, we to the Church, and there find them at prayers again, so could not see the Choir; but I sent the women home, and I did go in, and saw very many fine tombs, and among the rest some very ancient, of the Montagus.4095 So home to dinner; and, that being done, paid the reckoning, which was so exorbitant; and particular in rate of my horses, and 7s. 6d. for bread and beer, that I was mad, and resolve to trouble the master about it, and get something for the poor; and come away in that humour: £2 5s. 6d. Servants, 1s. 6d.; poor, 1s.; guide to the Stones, 2s.; poor woman in the street, 1s.; ribbons, 9d.; washwoman, 1s.; sempstress for W. Hewer, 3s.; lent W. Hewer, 3s. Thence about six o’clock, and with a guide went over the smooth Plain indeed till night; and then by a happy mistake, and that looked like an adventure, we were carried out of our way to a town where we would lie, since we could not go so far as we would. And there with great difficulty come about ten at night to a little inn, where we were fain to go into a room where a pedlar was in bed, and made him rise; and there wife and I lay, and in a truckle-bed Betty Turner and Willett. But good beds, and the master of the house a sober, understanding man, and I had good discourse with him about this country’s matters, as wool, and corne, and other things. And he also merry, and made us mighty merry at supper, about manning the new ship, at Bristol, with none but men whose wives do master them; and it seems it is become in reproach to some men of estate that are such hereabouts, that this is become common talk. By and by to bed, glad of this mistake, because, it seems, had we gone on as we intended, we could not have passed with our coach, and must have lain on the Plain all night. This day from Salisbury I wrote by the post my excuse for not coming home, which I hope will do, for I am resolved to see the Bath, and, it may be, Bristol.
. Up, finding our beds good, but lousy; which made us merry. We set out, the reckoning and servants coming to 9s. 6d.; my guide thither, 2s.; coachman, advanced, 10s. So rode a very good way, led to my great content by our landlord to Philips-Norton, with great pleasure, being now come into Somersetshire; where my wife and Deb. mightily joyed thereat4096 I commending the country, as indeed it deserves. And the first town we came to was Brekington, where, we stopping for something for the horses, we called two or three little boys to us, and pleased ourselves with their manner of speech,4097 and did make one of them kiss Deb., and another say the Lord’s Prayer (hallowed be thy kingdom come). At Philips-Norton I walked to the Church, and there saw a very ancient tomb of some Knight Templar, I think; and here saw the tombstone whereon there were only two heads cut, which, the story goes, and credibly, were two sisters, called the Fair Maids of Foscott,4098 that had two bodies upward and one belly, and there lie buried. Here is also a very fine ring of six bells, and they mighty tuneable. Having dined very well, 10s., we come before night to the Bath; where I presently stepped out with my landlord, and saw the baths, with people in them. They are not so large as I expected, but yet pleasant; and the town most of stone, and clean, though the streets generally narrow. I home, and being weary, went to bed without supper; the rest supping.
. Up at four o’clock, being by appointment called up to the Cross Bath,4099 where we were carried one after one another, myself, and wife, and Betty Turner, Willet, and W. Hewer. And by and by, though we designed to have done before company come, much company come; very fine ladies; and the manner pretty enough, only methinks it cannot be clean to go so many bodies together in the same water. Good conversation among them that are acquainted here, and stay together. Strange to see how hot the water is; and in some places, though this is the most temperate bath, the springs so hot as the feet not able to endure. But strange to see, when women and men herein, that live all the season in these waters, that cannot but be parboiled, and look like the creatures of the bath! Carried away, wrapped in a sheet, and in a chair, home; and there one after another thus carried, I staying above two hours in the water, home to bed, sweating for an hour; and by and by, comes music to play to me, extraordinary good as ever I heard at London almost, or anywhere: 5s. Up, to go to Bristol, about eleven o’clock, and paying my landlord that was our guide from Chiltern, 10s., and the serjeant of the bath, 10s., and the man that carried us in chairs, 3s. 6d. Set out towards Bristoll, and come thither (in a coach hired to spare our own horses); the way bad, but country good, about two o’clock, where set down at the Horse-shoe, and there, being trimmed by a very handsome fellow, 2s., walked with my wife and people through the city, which is in every respect another London, that one can hardly know it, to stand in the country, no more than that. No carts, it standing generally on vaults, only dogcarts.4100 So to the Three Crowns Tavern I was directed; but, when I come in, the master told me that he had newly given over the selling of wine; it seems, grown rich; and so went to the Sun; and there Deb. going with W. Hewer and Betty Turner to see her uncle [Butts], and leaving my wife with the mistress of the house, I to see the quay, which is a most large and noble place; and to see the new ship building by Bally,4101 neither he nor Furzer4102 being in town. It will be a fine ship. Spoke with the foreman, and did give the boys that kept the cabin 2s. Walked back to the Sun, where I find Deb. come back, and with her, her uncle, a sober merchant, very good company, and so like one of our sober, wealthy, London merchants, as pleased me mightily. Here we dined, and much good talk with him, 7s. 6d.: a messenger to Sir John Knight,4103 who was not at home, 6d. Then walked with him [Butts] and my wife and company round the quay, and to the ship; and he showed me the Customhouse, and made me understand many things of the place, and led us through Marsh Street, where our girl was born. But, Lord! the joy that was among the old poor people of the place, to see Mrs. Willet’s daughter, it seems her mother being a brave woman and mightily beloved! And so brought us a back way by surprise to his house, where a substantial good house, and well furnished; and did give us good entertainment of strawberries, a whole venison-pasty, cold, and plenty of brave wine, and above all Bristoll milk,4104 where comes in another poor woman, who, hearing that Deb. was here, did come running hither, and with her eyes so full of tears, and heart so full of joy, that she could not speak when she come in, that it made me weep too: I protest that I was not able to speak to her, which I would have done, to have diverted her tears. His wife a good woman, and so sober and substantiall as I was never more pleased anywhere. Servant-maid, 2s. So thence took leave, and he with us through the city, where in walking I find the city pay him great respect, and he the like to the meanest, which pleased me mightily. He showed us the place where the merchants meet here, and a fine Cross yet standing, like Cheapside. And so to the Horseshoe, where paid the reckoning, 2s. 6d. We back, and by moonshine to the Bath again, about ten-o’clock: bad way; and giving the coachman 1s., went all of us to bed.
. Up, and walked up and down the town, and saw a pretty good marketplace, and many good streets, and very fair stone-houses. And so to the great Church,4105 and there saw Bishop Montagu’s tomb;4106 and, when placed, did there see many brave people come, and, among others, two men brought in, in litters, and set down in the chancel to hear: but I did not know one face. Here a good organ; but a vain, pragmatical fellow preached a ridiculous, affected sermon, that made me angry, and some gentlemen that sat next me, and sang well. So home, walking round the walls of the City, which are good, and the battlements all whole. The sexton of the church 1s. So home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr. Butts again to see me, and he and I to church, where the same idle fellow preached; and I slept most of the sermon. Thence home, and took my wife out and the girls, and come to this church again, to see it, and look over the monuments, where, among others, Dr. Venner4107 and Pelling,4108 and a lady of Sir W. Waller’s;4109 he lying with his face broken. So to the fields a little and walked, and then home and had my head looked [at], and so to supper, and then comes my landlord to me, a sober understanding man, and did give me a good account of the antiquity of this town and Wells; and of two Heads, on two pillars, in Wells church. But he a Catholick. So he gone, I to bed.
. Up, and with Mr. Butts to look into the baths, and find the King and Queen’s full of a mixed sort, of good and bad, and the Cross only almost for the gentry. So home and did the like with my wife, and did pay my guides, two women, 5s.; one man, 2s. 6d.; poor, 6d.; woman to lay my foot-cloth, 1s. So to our inne, and there eat and paid reckoning, £1 8s. 6d.; servants, 3s.; poor, 1s.; lent the coach man, 10s. Before I took coach, I went to make a boy dive in the King’s bath, 1s. I paid also for my coach and a horse to Bristol, £1 1s. 6d. Took coach, and away, without any of the company of the other stagecoaches, that go out of this town today; and rode all day with some trouble, for fear of being out of our way, over the Downs, where the life of the shepherds is, in fair weather only, pretty. In the afternoon come to Avebury,4110 where, seeing great stones like those of Stonage standing up, I stopped, and took a countryman of that town, and he carried me and showed me a place trenched in,4111 like Old Sarum almost, with great stones pitched in it, some bigger than those at Stonage in figure, to my great admiration: and he told me that most people of learning, coming by, do come and view them, and that the King did so: and that the Mount cast hard by is called Selbury,4112 from one King Seall buried there, as tradition says. I did give this man 1s. So took coach again, seeing one place with great high stones pitched round, which, I believe, was once some particular building, in some measure like that of Stonage. But, about a mile off, it was prodigious to see how full the Downs are of great stones; and all along the valleys, stones of considerable bigness, most of them growing certainly out of the ground so thick as to cover the ground, which makes me think the less of the wonder of Stonage, for hence they might undoubtedly supply themselves with stones, as well as those at Avebury. In my way did give to the poor and menders of the highway 3s. Before night, come to Marlborough, and lay at the Hart; a good house, and a pretty fair town for a street or two; and what is most singular is, their houses on one side having their penthouses supported with pillars, which makes it a good walk. My wife pleased with all, this evening reading of Mustapha to me till supper, and then to supper, and had music whose innocence pleased me, and I did give them 3s. So to bed, and lay well all night, and long, so as all the five coaches that come this day from Bath, as well as we, were gone out of the town before six.
. So paying the reckoning, 14s. 4d., and servants, 2s., poor 1s., set out; and overtook one coach and kept a while company with it, till one of our horses losing a shoe, we stopped and drank and spent 1s. So on, and passing through a good part of this county of Wiltshire, saw a good house4113 of Alexander Popham’s,4114 and another of my Lord Craven’s,4115 I think in Barkeshire. Come to Newbery, and there dined, which cost me, and music, which a song of the old courtier of Queen Elizabeth’s,4116 and how he was changed upon the coming in of the King, did please me mightily, and I did cause W. Hewer to write it out, 3s. 6d. Then comes the reckoning, forced to change gold, 8s. 7d.; servants and poor, 1s. 6d. So out, and lost our way, which made me vexed, but come into it again; and in the evening betimes come to Reading, and there heard my wife read more of Mustapha, and then to supper, and then I to walk about the town, which is a very great one, I think bigger than Salsbury: a river4117 runs through it, in seven branches, and unite in one, in one part of the town, and runs into the Thames half-a-mile off one odd sign of the Broad Face. W. Hewer troubled with the headache we had none of his company last night, nor all this day nor night to talk. Then to my inn, and so to bed.
. Rose, and paying the reckoning, 12s. 6d.; servants and poor, 2s. 6d.; music, the worst we have had, coming to our chamber-door, but calling us by wrong names, we lay; so set out with one coach in company, and through Maidenhead, which I never saw before, to Colebrooke4118 by noon; the way mighty good; and there dined, and fitted ourselves a little to go through London, anon. Somewhat out of humour all day, reflecting on my wife’s neglect of things, and impertinent humour got by this liberty of being from me, which she is never to be trusted with; for she is a fool. Thence pleasant way to London, before night, and find all very well, to great content; and there to talk with my wife, and saw Sir W. Penn, who is well again. I hear of the ill news by the great fire at Barbados. By and by home, and there with my people to supper, all in pretty good humour, though I find my wife hath something in her gizzard, that only waits an opportunity of being provoked to bring up; but I will not, for my content-sake, give it. So I to bed, glad to find all so well here, and slept well.4119
. Up betimes and to the office, there to set my papers in order and books, my office having been new whited and windows made clean, and so to sit, where all the morning, and did receive a hint or two from my Lord Anglesey, as if he thought much of my taking the air as I have done; but I care not a turd; but whatever the matter is, I think he hath some ill-will to me, or at least an opinion that I am more the servant of the Board than I am. At noon home to dinner, where my wife still in a melancholy, fusty humour, and crying, and do not tell me plainly what it is; but I by little words find that she hath heard of my going to plays, and carrying people abroad every day, in her absence; and that I cannot help but the storm will break out, I think, in a little time. After dinner carried her by coach to St. James’s, where she sat in the coach till I to my Lady Peterborough’s, who tells me, among other things, her Lord’s good words to the Duke of York lately, about my Lord Sandwich, and that the Duke of York is kind to my Lord Sandwich, which I am glad to hear: my business here was about her Lord’s pension from Tangier. Here met with Povy, who tells me how hard Creed is upon him, though he did give him, about six months since, I think he said, fifty pieces in gold; and one thing there is in his accounts that I fear may touch me, but I shall help it, I hope. So my wife not speaking a word, going nor coming, nor willing to go to a play, though a new one, I to the Office, and did much business. At night home, where supped Mr. Turner and his wife, and Betty and Mercer and Pelling, as merry as the ill, melancholy humour that my wife was in, would let us, which vexed me; but I took no notice of it, thinking that will be the best way, and let it wear away itself. After supper, parted, and to bed; and my wife troubled all night, and about one o’clock goes out of the bed to the girl’s bed, which did trouble me, she crying and sobbing, without telling the cause. By and by she comes back to me, and still crying; I then rose, and would have sat up all night, but she would have me come to bed again; and being pretty well pacified, we to sleep.
. When between two and three in the morning we were waked with my maids crying out, “Fire, fire, in Mark Lane!” So I rose and looked out, and it was dreadful; and strange apprehensions in me, and us all, of being presently burnt. So we all rose; and my care presently was to secure my gold, and plate, and papers, and could quickly have done it, but I went forth to see where it was; and the whole town was presently in the streets; and I found it in a new-built house that stood alone in Minchin-lane, over against the Cloth-workers’-hall, which burned furiously: the house not yet quite finished; and the benefit of brick was well seen, for it burnt all inward, and fell down within itself; so no fear of doing more hurt. So homeward, and stopped at Mr. Mills’s, where he and she at the door, and Mrs. Turner, and Betty, and Mrs. Hollworthy, and there I stayed and talked, and up to the church leads, and saw the fire, which spent itself, till all fear over. I home, and there we to bed again, and slept pretty well, and about nine rose, and then my wife fell into her blubbering again, and at length had a request to make to me, which was, that she might go into France, and live there, out of trouble; and then all come out, that I loved pleasure and denied her any, and a deal of do; and I find that there have been great fallings out between my father and her, whom, forever hereafter, I must keep asunder, for they cannot possibly agree. And I said nothing, but, with very mild words and few, suffered her humour to spend, till we begun to be very quiet, and I think all will be over, and friends, and so I to the office, where all the morning doing business. Yesterday I heard how my Lord Ashly is like to die, having some imposthume in his breast, that he hath been fain to be cut into the body.4120 At noon home to dinner, and thence by coach to Whitehall, where we attended the Duke of York in his closet, upon our usual business. And thence out, and did see many of the Knights of the Garter, with the King and Duke of York, going into the Privychamber, to elect the Elector of Saxony4121 into that Order, who, I did hear the Duke of York say, was a good drinker: I know not upon what score this compliment is done him. Thence with W. Penn, who is in great pain of the gout, by coach round by Holborne home, he being at every kennel full of pain. Thence home, and by and by comes my wife and Deb. home, have been at the King’s playhouse today, thinking to spy me there; and saw the new play, Evening Love,4122 of Dryden’s, which, though the world commends, she likes not. So to supper and talk, and all in good humour, and then to bed, where I slept not well, from my apprehensions of some trouble about some business of Mr. Povy’s he told me of the other day.
. Up, and talked with my wife all in good humour, and so to the office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, and so she and I alone to the King’s house, and there I saw this new play my wife saw yesterday, and do not like it, it being very smutty, and nothing so good as The Maiden Queen, or The Indian Emperour, of his making, that I was troubled at it; and my wife tells me wholly (which he confesses a little in the epilogue) taken out of the Illustre Bassa. So she to Unthanke’s and I to Mr. Povy, and there settled some business; and here talked of things, and he thinks there will be great revolutions, and that Creed will be a great man, though a rogue, he being a man of the old strain, which will now be up again. So I took coach, and set Povy down at Charing Cross, and took my wife up, and calling at the New Exchange at Smith’s shop, and kissed her pretty hand, and so we home, and there able to do nothing by candlelight, my eyes being now constantly so bad that I must take present advice or be blind. So to supper, grieved for my eyes, and to bed.
. Up, and to church, and home and dined with my wife and Deb. alone, but merry and in good humour, which is, when all is done, the greatest felicity of all, and after dinner she to read in the Illustre Bassa4123 the plot of yesterday’s play, which is most exactly the same, and so to church I alone, and thence to see Sir W. Penn, who is ill again, and then home, and there get my wife to read to me till supper, and then to bed.
. Up, and with Balty to St. James’s, and there presented him to Mr. Wren about his being Muster-Master this year, which will be done. So up to wait on the Duke of York, and thence, with W. Coventry, walked to Whitehall good discourse about the Navy, where want of money undoes us. Thence to the Harp and Ball I to drink, and so to the Coffeehouse in Covent Garden; but met with nobody but Sir Philip Howard, who shamed me before the whole house there, in commendation of my speech in Parliament, and thence I away home to dinner alone, my wife being at her tailor’s, and after dinner comes Creed, whom I hate, to speak with me, and before him comes Mrs. Daniel about business. … She gone, Creed and I to the King’s playhouse, and saw an act or two of the new play [Evening’s Love] again, but like it not. Calling this day at Herringman’s,4124 he tells me Dryden do himself call it but a fifth-rate play. Thence with him to my Lord Brouncker’s, where a Council of the Royal Society; and there heard Mr. Harry Howard’s4125 noble offers about ground for our College, and his intentions of building his own house there most nobly. My business was to meet Mr. Boyle, which I did, and discoursed about my eyes; and he did give me the best advice he could, but refers me to one Turberville,4126 of Salsbury, lately come to town, which I will go to. Thence home, where the streets full, at our end of the town, removing their wine against the Act begins, which will be two days hence, to raise the price. I did get my store in of Batelier this night. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, and so to the office again all the afternoon, and then to Westminster to Dr. Turberville about my eyes, whom I met with: and he did discourse, I thought, learnedly about them; and takes time before he did prescribe me anything, to think of it. So I away with my wife and Deb., whom I left at Unthanke’s, and so to Hercules Pillars, and there we three supped on cold powdered beef, and thence home and in the garden walked a good while with Deane, talking well of the Navy miscarriages and faults. So home to bed.
. Up, and Creed and Colonel Atkins come to me about sending coals to Tangier: and upon that most of the morning. Thence Creed and I to Alderman Backewell’s about Tangier business of money, and thence I by water (calling and drinking, but not baisado, at Michell’s) to Westminster, but it being holyday did no business, only to Martin’s … and so home again by water, and busy till dinner, and then with wife, Mercer, Deb., and W. Hewer to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Impertinents, a pretty good play; and so by water to Spring Garden, and there supped, and so home, not very merry, only when we come home, Mercer and I sat and sung in the garden a good while, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, and after dinner at home to the office again, and there all the afternoon very busy till night, and then home to supper and to bed.
. All the morning doing business at the office. At noon, with my Fellow-Officers, to the Dolphin, at Sir G. Carteret’s charge, to dinner, he having some accounts examined this morning. All the afternoon we all at Sir W. Penn’s with him about the Victuallers’ accounts, and then in the evening to Charing Cross, and there took up my wife at her tailor’s, and so home and to walk in the garden, and then to sup and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, at noon dined at home, and then my wife, and Deb., and I to the King’s playhouse, and saw The Indian Queen, but do not dote upon Nan Marshall’s acting therein, as the world talks of her excellence therein. Thence with my wife to buy some linen, £13 worth, for sheets, etc., at the new shop over against the New Exchange; [and the master, who is] come out of London4127 since the fire, says his and other tradesmen’s retail trade is so great here, and better than it was in London, that they believe they shall not return, nor the city be ever so great for retail as heretofore. So home and to my business, and to bed.
. Up, and to church, and then home to dinner, where Betty Turner, Mercer, and Captain Deane, and after dinner to sing, Mr. Pelling coming. Then, they gone, Deane and I all the afternoon till night to talk of navy matters and ships with great pleasure, and so at night, he gone, I to supper, Pelling coming again and singing a while, then to bed. Much talk of the French setting out their fleet afresh; but I hear nothing that our King is alarmed at it, at all, but rather making his fleet less.4128
. Called up by my Lady Peterborough’s servant about some business of hers, and so to the office. Thence by and by with Sir J. Minnes toward St. James’s, and I stop at Dr. Turberville’s, and there did receive a direction for some physic, and also a glass of something to drop into my eyes: who gives me hopes that I may do well. Thence to St. James’s, and thence to Whitehall, where I find the Duke of York in the Council-chamber; where the Officers of the Navy were called in about Navy business, about calling in of more ships; the King of France having, as the Duke of York says, ordered his fleet to come in, notwithstanding what he had lately ordered for their staying abroad. Thence to the Chapel, it being St. Peter’s day, and did hear an anthem of Silas Taylor’s making; a dull, old-fashioned thing, of six and seven parts, that nobody could understand: and the Duke of York, when he come out, told me that he was a better storekeeper than anthem-maker, and that was bad enough, too. This morning Mr. May4129 showed me the King’s new buildings at Whitehall, very fine; and among other things, his ceilings, and his houses of office. So home to dinner, and then with my wife to the King’s playhouse—The Mulberry Garden, which she had not seen. So by coach to Islington, and round by Hackney home with much pleasure, and to supper and bed.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning: then home to dinner, where a stinking leg of mutton, the weather being very wet and hot to keep meat in. Then to the Office again, all the afternoon: we met about the Victualler’s new contract. And so up, and to walk all the evening with my wife and Mrs. Turner in the garden, till supper, about eleven at night; and so, after supper, parted, and to bed, my eyes bad, but not worse, only weary with working. But, however, I very melancholy under the fear of my eyes being spoiled, and not to be recovered; for I am come that I am not able to read out a small letter, and yet my sight good for the little while I can read, as ever they were, I think.
July 1668
. Up; and all the morning we met at the office about the Victualler’s contract. At noon home to dinner, my Cousin Roger, come newly to town, dined with us, and mighty importunate for our coming down to Impington, which I think to do, this Sturbridge fair. Thence I set him down at the Temple, and Commissioner Middleton dining the first time with me, he and I to Whitehall, and so to St. James’s, where we met; and much business with the Duke of York. And I find the Duke of York very hot for regulations in the Navy; and, I believe, is put on it by W. Coventry; and I am glad of it; and particularly, he falls heavy on Chatham-yard, and is vexed that Lord Anglesey did, the other day, complain at the Council-table of disorders in the Navy, and not to him. So I to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier; and there vexed, with the importunity and clamours of Alderman Backewell, for my acquittance for money supplied by him to the garrison, before I have any order for paying it: so home, calling at several places-among others, the ’Change, and on Cooper, to know when my wife shall come to sit for her picture, which will be next week, and so home and to walk with my wife, and then to supper and to bed.
. Called up by a letter from W. Coventry telling me that the Commissioners of Accounts intend to summons me about Sir W. Warren’s Hamburg contract, and so I up and to W. Coventry’s (he and G. Carteret being the party concerned in it), and after conference with him about it to satisfaction I home again to the office. At noon home to dinner, and then all the afternoon busy to prepare an answer to this demand of the Commissioners of Accounts, and did discourse with Sir W. Warren about it, and so in the evening with my wife and Deb. by coach to take air to Mile-end, and so home and I to bed, vexed to be put to this frequent trouble in things we deserve best in.
. Betimes to the office, my head full of this business. Then by coach to the Commissioners of Accounts at Brooke House, the first time I was ever there, and there Sir W. Turner in the chair; and present, Lord Halifax, Thoms[on], Gregory, Dunster, and Osborne.4130 I long with them, and see them hot set on this matter; but I did give them proper and safe answers. Halifax, I perceive, was industrious on my side, in behalf of his uncle Coventry,4131 it being the business of Sir W. Warren. Vexed only at their denial of a copy of what I set my hand to, and swore. Here till almost two o’clock, and then home to dinner, and set down presently what I had done and said this day, and so abroad by water to Eagle Court in the Strand, and there to an alehouse: met Mr. Pierce, the Surgeon, and Dr. Clerke, Waldron,4132 Turberville, my physician for the eyes, and Lowre,4133 to dissect several eyes of sheep and oxen, with great pleasure, and to my great information. But strange that this Turberville should be so great a man, and yet, to this day, had seen no eyes dissected, or but once, but desired this Dr. Lowre to give him the opportunity to see him dissect some. Thence to Unthanke’s, to my wife, and carried her home, and there walked in the garden, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to see Sir W. Coventry, and give him account of my doings yesterday, which he well liked of, and was told thereof by my Lord Halifax before; but I do perceive he is much concerned for this business. Gives me advice to write a smart letter to the Duke of York about the want of money in the Navy, and desire him to communicate it to the Commissioners of the Treasury; for he tells me he hath hot work sometimes to contend with the rest for the Navy, they being all concerned for some other part of the King’s expenses, which they would prefer to this, of the Navy. He showed me his closet, with his round table, for him to sit in the middle, very convenient; and I borrowed several books of him, to collect things out of the Navy, which I have not, and so home, and there busy sitting all the morning, and at noon dined, and then all the afternoon busy, till night, and then to Mile-End with my wife and girl, and there drank and eat a jole of salmon, at the Rose and Crown, our old house; and so home to bed.
. About four in the morning took four pills of Dr. Turberville’s prescribing, for my eyes, and they wrought pretty well most of the morning, and I did get my wife to spend the morning reading of Wilkins’s Real Character. At noon comes W. Hewer and Pelling, and young Michell and his wife, and dined with us, and most of the afternoon talking; and then at night my wife to read again, and to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to St. James’s, and there attended the Duke of York, and was there by himself told how angry he was, and did declare to my Lord Anglesey, about his late complaining of things of the Navy to the King in Council, and not to him; and I perceive he is mightily concerned at it, and resolved to reform things therein. Thence with W. Coventry walked in the Park together a good while, he mighty kind to me. And hear many pretty stories of my Lord Chancellor’s being heretofore made sport of by Peter Talbot4134 the priest, in his story of the death of Cardinall Bleau;4135 by Lord Cottington, in his Dolor de las Tripas;4136 and Tom Killigrew, in his being bred in Ram Ally,4137 and now bound prentice to Lord Cottington, going to Spain with £1,000, and two suits of clothes. Thence home to dinner, and thence to Mr. Cooper’s, and there met my wife and W. Hewer and Deb.; and there my wife first sat for her picture: but he is a most admirable workman, and good company. Here comes Harris, and first told us how Betterton is come again upon the stage: whereupon my wife and company to the [Duke’s] house to see Henry the Fifth; while I to attend the Duke of York at the Committee of the Navy, at the Council, where some high dispute between him and W. Coventry about settling pensions upon all Flag-Officers, while unemployed: W. Coventry against it, and, I think, with reason. Thence I to the playhouse, and saw a piece of the play, and glad to see Betterton; and so with wife and Deb. to Spring-garden, and eat a lobster, and so home in the evening and to bed. Great doings at Paris, I hear, with their triumphs for their late conquests.4138 The Duchess of Richmond sworn last week of the queen’s Bedchamber, and the King minding little else but what he used to do—about his women.
. Up, and to the office, where Kate Joyce come to me about some tickets of hers, but took no notice to me of her being married,4139 but seemed mighty pale, and doubtful what to say or do, expecting, I believe, that I should begin; and not finding me beginning, said nothing, but, with trouble in her face, went away. At the office all the morning, and after dinner also all the afternoon, and in the evening with my wife and Deb. and Betty Turner to Unthanke’s, where we are fain to go round by Newgate, because of Fleet Bridge4140 being under rebuilding. They stayed there, and I about some business, and then presently back and brought them home and supped and Mrs. Turner, the mother, comes to us, and there late, and so to bed.
. Betimes by water to Sir W. Coventry, and there discoursed of several things; and I find him much concerned in the present enquiries now on foot of the Commissioners of Accounts, though he reckons himself and the rest very safe, but vexed to see us liable to these troubles, in things wherein we have laboured to do best. Thence, he being to go out of town tomorrow, to drink Banbury waters,4141 I to the Duke of York, to attend him about business of the Office; and find him mighty free to me, and how he is concerned to mend things in the Navy himself, and not leave it to other people. So home to dinner; and then with my wife to Cooper’s, and there saw her sit; and he do do extraordinary things indeed. So to Whitehall; and there by and by the Duke of York comes to the Robe-chamber, and spent with us three hours till night, in hearing the business of the Master-Attendants of Chatham, and the Storekeeper of Woolwich; and resolves to displace them all; so hot he is of giving proofs of his justice at this time, that it is their great fate now, to come to be questioned at such a time as this. Thence I to Unthanke’s, and took my wife and Deb. home, and to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, and after noon to the office again till night, mighty busy getting Mr. Fist to come and help me, my own clerks all busy, and so in the evening to ease my eyes, and with my wife and Deb. and Betty Turner, by coach to Unthanke’s and back again, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to attend the Council, but all in vain, the Council spending all the morning upon a business about the printing of the Critickes,4142 a dispute between the first Printer, one Bee that is dead, and the Abstractor, who would now print his Abstract, one Poole. So home to dinner, and thence to Haward’s to look upon an Espinette, and I did come near the buying one, but broke off. I have a mind to have one. So to Cooper’s; and there find my wife and W. Hewer and Deb., sitting, and painting; and here he do work finely, though I fear it will not be so like as I expected: but now I understand his great skill in music, his playing and setting to the French lute most excellently; and speaks French, and indeed is an excellent man. Thence, in the evening, with my people in a glass hackney-coach to the park, but was ashamed to be seen. So to the lodge, and drank milk, and so home to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning. After dinner to the King’s playhouse, to see an old play of Shirly’s, called Hide Parker the first day acted; where horses are brought upon the stage but it is but a very moderate play, only an excellent epilogue spoke by Beck Marshall.4143 Thence home and to my office, and then to supper and to bed, and overnight took some pills,
. Which work with me pretty betimes, being Lord’s day, and so I within all day. Busy all the morning upon some accounts with W. Hewer, and at noon, an excellent dinner, comes Pelling and W. Howe, and the latter stayed and talked with me all the afternoon, and in the evening comes Mr. Mills and his wife and supped and talked with me, and so to bed. This last night Betty Michell about midnight cries out, and my wife goes to her, and she brings forth a girl, and this afternoon the child is christened, and my wife godmother again to a Betty.
. Up, and to my office, and thence by water to Whitehall to attend the Council, but did not, and so home to dinner, and so out with my wife, and Deb., and W. Hewer towards Cooper’s, but I ’light and walked to Ducke Lane, and there to the bookseller’s; at the Bible, whose moherje have a mind to, but elle no erat dentro, but I did there look upon and buy some books, and made way for coming again to the man, which pleases me. Thence to Reeves’s, and there saw some, and bespoke a little perspective,4144 and was mightily pleased with seeing objects in a dark room.4145 And so to Cooper’s, and spent the afternoon with them; and it will be an excellent picture. Thence my people all by water to Deptford, to see Balty, while I to buy my espinette,4146 which I did now agree for, and did at Haward’s meet with Mr. Thacker, and heard him play on the harpsicon, so as I never heard man before, I think. So home, it being almost night, and there find in the garden Pelling, who hath brought Tempest, Wallington, and Pelham, to sing,4147 and there had most excellent music late, in the dark, with great pleasure. Made them drink and eat; and so with much pleasure to bed, but above all with little Wallington. This morning I was let blood, and did bleed about fourteen ounces, towards curing my eyes.
. Up, and to my office, where sat all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence all the afternoon hard at the office, we meeting about the Victualler’s new contract; and so into the garden, my Lady Penn, Mrs. Turner and her daughter, my wife and I, and there supped in the dark and were merry, and so to bed. This day Bosse4148 finished his copy of my picture, which I confess I do not admire, though my wife prefers him to Browne; nor do I think it like. He do it for W. Hewer, who hath my wife’s also, which I like less. This afternoon my Lady Pickering come to see us: I busy, saw her not. But how natural it is for us to slight people out of power, and for people out of power to stoop to see those that while in power they contemned!
. Up, and all the morning busy at the office to my great content, attending to the settling of papers there that I may have the more rest in winter for my eyes by how much I do the more in the settling of all things in the summer by daylight. At noon home to dinner, where is brought home the espinette I bought the other day of Haward; costs me £5. So to St. James’s, where did our ordinary business with the Duke of York. So to Unthanke’s to my wife, and with her and Deb. to visit Mrs. Pierce, whom I do not now so much affect, since she paints. But stayed here a while, and understood from her how my Lady Duchess of Monmouth is still lame, and likely always to be so,4149 which is a sad chance for a young [lady] to get, only by trying of tricks in dancing. So home, and there Captain Deane4150 come and spent the evening with me, to draw some finishing lines on his fine draught of The Resolution,4151 the best ship, by all report, in the world, and so to bed. Wonderful hot all day and night, and this the first night that I remember in my life that ever I could lie with only a sheet and one rug. So much I am now stronger than ever I remember myself, at least since before I had the stone.
. Up, and to the office, where Yeabsly and Lanyon come to town and to speak with me about a matter wherein they are accused of cheating the King before the Lords’ Commissioners of Tangier, and I doubt it true, but I have no hand in it, but will serve them what I can. All the morning at the office, and at noon dined at home, and then to the office again, where we met to finish the draft of the Victualler’s contract, and so I by water with my Lord Brouncker to Arundell House, to the Royal Society, and there saw an experiment4152 of a dog’s being tied through the back, about the spinal artery, and thereby made void of all motion; and the artery being loosened again, the dog recovers. Thence to Cooper’s, and saw his advance on my wife’s picture, which will be indeed very fine. So with her to the ’Change, to buy some things, and here I first bought of the sempstress next my bookseller’s, where the pretty young girl is, that will be a great beauty. So home, and to supper with my wife in the garden, it being these two days excessively hot, and so to bed.
. Up, and fitted myself to discourse before the Council about business of tickets. So to Whitehall, where waited on the Duke of York, and then the Council about that business; and I did discourse to their liking, only was too high to assert that nothing could be invented to secure the King more in the business of tickets4153 than there is; which the Duke of Buckingham did except against, and I could have answered, but forbore; but all liked very well. Thence home, and with my wife and Deb. to the King’s House to see a play revived called The ⸻, a sorry mean play, that vexed us to sit in so much heat of the weather to hear it. Thence to see Betty Michell newly lain in, and after a little stay we took water and to Spring Garden, and there walked, and supped, and stayed late, and with much pleasure, and to bed. The weather excessive hot, so as we were forced to lie in two beds, and I only with a sheet and rug, which is colder than ever I remember I could bear.
. At the office all the morning. At noon dined at home and Creed with me, who I do really begin to hate, and do use him with some reservedness. Here was also my old acquaintance, Will Swan,4154 to see me, who continues a factious fanatick still, and I do use him civilly, in expectation that those fellows may grow great again. Thence to the office, and then with my wife to the ’Change and Unthanke’s, after having been at Cooper’s and sat there for her picture, which will be a noble picture, but yet I think not so like as Hales’s is. So home and to my office, and then to walk in the garden, and home to supper and to bed. They say the King of France is making a war again, in Flanders, with the King of Spain; the King of Spain refusing to give him all that he says was promised him in the treaty. Creed told me this day how when the King was at my Lord Cornwallis’s,4155 when he went last to Newmarket, that being there on a Sunday, the Duke of Buckingham did in the afternoon to please the King make a bawdy sermon to him out of Canticles, and that my Lord Cornwallis did endeavour to get the King a whore, and that must be a pretty girl the daughter of the parson of the place, but that she did get away, and leaped off of some place and killed herself, which if true is very sad.
. Up, and to my chamber, and there I up and down in the house spent the morning getting things ready against noon, when come Mr. Cooper, Hales, Harris, Mr. Butler, that wrote Hudibras, and Mr. Cooper’s cousin Jacke; and by and by comes Mr. Reeves and his wife, whom I never saw before: and there we dined: a good dinner, and company that pleased me mightily, being all eminent men in their way. Spent all the afternoon in talk and mirth, and in the evening parted, and then my wife and I to walk in the garden, and so home to supper, Mrs. Turner and husband and daughter with us, and then to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where Mrs. Daniel comes. … All the morning at the office. Dined at home, then with Mr. Colvill to the new Excise Office in Aldersgate Street, and thence back to the Old Exchange, to see a very noble fine lady I spied as I went through, in coming; and there took occasion to buy some gloves, and admire her, and a mighty fine fair lady indeed she was. Thence idling all the afternoon to Duck Lane, and there saw my bookseller’s moher, but get no ground there yet; and here saw Mrs. Michell’s daughter married newly to a bookseller, and she proves a comely little grave woman. So to visit my Lord Crew, who is very sick, to great danger, by an irisipulus;4156 the first day I heard of it, and so home, and took occasion to buy a rest for my espinette at the ironmonger’s by Holborn Conduit, where the fair pretty woman is that I have lately observed there, and she is pretty, and jecredo vain enough. Thence home and busy till night, and so to bed.
. Up, and to St. James’s, but lost labour, the Duke abroad. So home to the office, where all the morning, and so to dinner, and then all the afternoon at the office, only went to my plate-maker’s, and there spent an hour about contriving my little plates,4157 for my books of the King’s four Yards. At night walked in the garden, and supped and to bed, my eyes bad.
. All the morning at the office. Dined at home, and then to Whitehall with Symson the joiner, and after attending at the Committee of the Navy about the old business of tickets, where the only expedient they have found is to bind the Commanders and Officers by oaths. The Duke of York told me how the Duke of Buckingham, after the Council the other day, did make mirth at my position, about the sufficiency of present rules in the business of tickets; and here I took occasion to desire a private discourse with the Duke of York, and he granted it to me on Friday next. So to show Symson the King’s new lodgings for his chimneys, which I desire to have one built in that mode, and so I home, and with little supper, to bed. This day a falling out between my wife and Deb., about a hood lost, which vexed me.
. Up, and all day long, but at dinner, at the Office, at work, till I was almost blind, which makes my heart sad.
. Up, and by water to St. James’s, having, by the way, shown Symson Sir W. Coventry’s chimneypieces, in order to the making me one;4158 and there, after the Duke of York was ready, he called me to his closet; and there I did long and largely show him the weakness of our Office, and did give him advice to call us to account for our duties, which he did take mighty well, and desired me to draw up what I would have him write to the Office.4159 I did lay open the whole failings of the Office, and how it was his duty to find them, and to find fault with them, as Admiral, especially at this time, which he agreed to, and seemed much to rely on what I said. Thence to Whitehall, and there waited to attend the Council, but was not called in, and so home, and after dinner back with Sir J. Minnes by coach, and there attended, all of us, the Duke of York, and had the hearing of Mr. Pett’s business,4160 the Master-Shipwright at Chatham, and I believe he will be put out. But here Commissioner Middleton did, among others, show his good-nature and easiness to the Masters-Attendants, by mitigating their faults, so as, I believe, they will come in again. So home, and to supper and to bed, the Duke of York staying with us till almost night.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning; and at noon, after dinner, to Cooper’s, it being a very rainy day, and there saw my wife’s picture go on, which will be very fine indeed. And so home again to my letters, and then to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning and after dinner, the afternoon also, with W. Hewer in my closet, setting right my Tangier Accounts, which I have let alone these six months and more, but find them very right, and is my great comfort. So in the evening to walk with my wife, and to supper and to bed.
. Busy all the morning at my office. At noon dined, and then I out of doors to my bookseller in Duck Lane, but su moher not at home, and it was pretty here to see a pretty woman pass by with a little wanton look, and je did sequi her round about the street from Duck Lane to Newgate Market, and then elle did turn back, and je did lose her. And so to see my Lord Crew, whom I find up; and did wait on him; but his face sore, but in hopes to do now very well again. Thence to Cooper’s, where my wife’s picture almost done, and mighty fine indeed. So over the water with my wife, and Deb., and Mercer, to Spring-Garden, and there eat and walked; and observe how rude some of the young gallants of the town are become, to go into people’s arbours where there are not men, and almost force the women; which troubled me, to see the confidence of the vice of the age: and so we away by water, with much pleasure home. This day my plate-maker comes with my four little plates of the four Yards, cost me £5, which troubles me, but yet do please me also.
. All the morning at the office, and after dinner with my wife and Deb. to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Slighted Maid,4161 but a mean play; and thence home, there being little pleasure now in a play, the company being but little. Here we saw Gosnell, who is become very homely, and sings meanly, I think, to what I thought she did.
. Busy all the morning at the office. So home to dinner, where Mercer, and there comes Mr. Swan, my old acquaintance, and dines with me, and tells me, for a certainty, that Creed is to marry Betty Pickering, and that the thing is concluded, which I wonder at, and am vexed for. So he gone I with my wife and two girls to the King’s house, and saw The Mad Couple,4162 a mean play altogether, and thence to Hyde Park, where but few coaches, and so to the New Exchange, and thence by water home, with much pleasure, and then to sing in the garden, and so home to bed, my eyes for these four days being my trouble, and my heart thereby mighty sad.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall. There met with Mr. May, who was giving directions about making a close way for people to go dry from the gate up into the House, to prevent their going through the galleries; which will be very good. I stayed and talked with him about the state of the King’s Offices in general, and how ill he is served, and do still find him an excellent person, and so back to the office. So close at my office all the afternoon till evening, and then out with my wife to the New Exchange, and so back again.
. Up, and at my office all the morning. About noon with Mr. Ashburnham4163 to the new Excise Office, and there discoursed about our business, and I made him admire my drawing a thing presently in shorthand: but, God knows! I have paid dear for it, in my eyes. Home and to dinner, and then my wife and Deb. and I, with Sir J. Minnes, to Whitehall, she going hence to the New Exchange, and the Duke of York not being in the way, Sir J. Minnes and I to her and took them two to the King’s house, to see the first day of Lacy’s Monsieur Ragou,4164 now new acted. The King and Court all there, and mighty merry—a farce. Thence Sir J. Minnes giving us, like a gentleman, his coach, hearing we had some business, we to the Park, and so home. Little pleasure there, there being little company, but mightily taken with a little chariot that we saw in the street, and which we are resolved to have ours like it. So home to walk in the garden a little, and then to bed. The month ends mighty sadly with me, my eyes being now past all use almost; and I am mighty hot upon trying the late printed experiment4165 of paper tubes.
August 1668
. All the morning at the office. After dinner my wife, and Deb., and I, to the King’s house again, coming too late yesterday to hear the prologue, and do like the play better now than before; and, indeed, there is a great deal of true wit in it, more than in the common sort of plays, and so home to my business, and at night to bed, my eyes making me sad.
. (Lord’s day). Up and at home all the morning, hanging, and removing of some pictures, in my study and house. At noon Pelling dined with me. After dinner, I and Tom, my boy, by water up to Putney, and there heard a sermon, and many fine people in the church. Thence walked to Barne Elmes, and there, and going and coming, did make the boy read to me several things, being nowadays unable to read myself anything, for above two lines together, but my eyes grow weary. Home about night, and so to supper and then to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall and St. James’s, where I did much business, and about noon meeting Dr. Gibbons, carried him to the Sun Tavern, in King Street, and there made him, and some friends of his, drink; among others, Captain Silas Taylor, and here did get Gibbons to promise me some things for my flageolets. So to the Old Exchange, and then home to dinner, and so, Mercer dining with us, I took my wife and her and Deb. out to Unthanke’s, while I to Whitehall to the Commissioners of the Treasury, and so back to them and took them out to Islington, where we met with W. Joyce and his wife and boy, and there eat and drank, and a great deal of his idle talk, and so we round by Hackney home, and so to sing a little in the garden, and then to bed.
. Up, and to my office a little, and then to Whitehall about a Committee for Tangier at my Lord Arlington’s, where, by Creed’s being out of town, I have the trouble given me of drawing up answers to the complaints of the Turks of Algiers, and so I have all the papers put into my hand. Here till noon, and then back to the Office, where sat a little, and then to dinner, and presently to the office, where come to me my Lord Bellassis, Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzgerald,4166 newly come from Tangier, and Sir Arthur Basset, and there I received their informations, and so, they being gone, I with my clerks and another of Lord Brouncker’s, Seddon,4167 sat up till two in the morning, drawing up my answers and writing them fair, which did trouble me mightily to sit up so long, because of my eyes.
. So to bed about two o’clock, and then up about seven and to Whitehall, where read over my report to Lord Arlington and Berkeley, and then afterward at the Council Board with great good liking, but, Lord! how it troubled my eyes, though I did not think I could have done it, but did do it, and was not very bad afterward. So home to dinner, and thence out to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Guardian; formerly the same, I find, that was called Cutter of Coleman Street; a silly play. And thence to Westminster Hall, where I met Fitzgerald; and with him to a tavern, to consider of the instructions for Sir Thomas Allen, against his going to Algiers; he and I being designed to go down to Portsmouth by the Council’s order, and by and by he and I went to the Duke of York, who orders me to go down tomorrow morning. So I away home, and there bespeak a coach; and so home and to bed, my wife being abroad with the Mercers walking in the fields, and upon the water.
. Waked betimes, and my wife, at an hour’s warning, is resolved to go with me, which pleases me, her readiness. But, before ready, comes a letter from Fitzgerald, that he is seized upon last night by an order of the General’s by a file of musketeers, and kept prisoner in his chamber. The Duke of York did tell me of it today: it is about a quarrel between him and Witham,4168 and they fear a challenge: so I to him, and sent my wife by the coach round to Lambeth. I lost my labour going to his lodgings, and he in bed: and, staying a great while for him, I at last grew impatient, and would stay no longer; but to St. James’s to Mr. Wren, to bid him “God be with you!” and so over the water to Fox Hall; and there my wife and Deb. come and took me up, and we away to Gilford, losing our way for three or four mile, about Cobham. At Gilford we dined; and, I showed them the hospitall there of Bishop Abbot’s,4169 and his tomb in the church, which, and the rest of the tombs there, are kept mighty clean and neat, with curtains before them. So to coach again, and got to Lippock,4170 late over Hindhead, having an old man, a guide, in the coach with us; but got thither with great fear of being out of our way, it being ten at night. Here good, honest people; and after supper, to bed. …
. Up, and to coach, and with a guide to Petersfield, where I find Sir Thomas Allen and Mr. Tippets4171 come; the first about the business, the latter only in respect to me; as also Fitzgerald, who come post all last night, and newly arrived here. We four sat down presently to our business, and in an hour despatched all our talk; and did inform Sir Thomas Allen well in it, who, I perceive, in serious matters, is a serious man: and tells me he wishes all we are told be true, in our defence; for he finds by all, that the Turks have, to this day, been very civil to our merchantmen everywhere; and, if they would have broke with us, they never had such an opportunity over our rich merchantmen, as lately, coming out of the Streights. Then to dinner, and pretty merry: and here was Mr. Martin, the purser, and dined with us, and wrote some things for us. And so took coach again back; Fitzgerald with us, whom I was pleased with all the day, with his discourse of his observations abroad, as being a great soldier and of long standing abroad: and knows all things and persons abroad very well—I mean, the great soldiers of France, and Spain, and Germany; and talks very well. Come at night to Gilford, where the Red Lion so full of people, and a wedding, that the master of the house did get us a lodging over the way, at a private house, his landlord’s, mighty neat and fine; and there supped and talked with the landlord and his wife: and so to bed with great content, only Fitzgerald lay at the Inne. So to bed.
. Up, and I walked out, and met Uncle Wight, whom I sent to last night, and Mr. Wight coming to see us, and I walked with them back to see my aunt at Katherine Hill, and there walked up and down the hill and places, about: but a dull place, but good air, and the house dull. But here I saw my aunt, after many days not seeing her—I think, a year or two; and she walked with me to see my wife. And here, at the Red Lion, we all dined together, and mighty merry, and then parted: and we home to Fox Hall, where Fitzgerald and I ’light, and by water to Whitehall, where the Duke of York being abroad, I by coach and met my wife, who went round, and after doing at the office a little, and finding all well at home, I to bed. I hear that Colbert,4172 the French Ambassador, is come, and hath been at Court incognito. When he hath his audience, I know not.
. Up, and walked to Holborne, where got John Powell’s coach at the Black Swan, and he attended me at St. James’s, where waited on the Duke of York: and both by him and several of the Privy-Council, beyond expectation, I find that my going to Sir Thomas Allen was looked upon as a thing necessary: and I have got some advantage by it, among them. Thence to Whitehall, and thence to visit Lord Brouncker, and back to Whitehall, where saw the Queen and ladies; and so, with Mr. Slingsby, to Mrs. Williams’s, thinking to dine with Lord Brouncker there, but did not, having promised my wife to come home, though here I met Knepp, to my great content. So home; and, after dinner, I took my wife and Deb. round by Hackney, and up and down to take the air; and then home, and made visits to Mrs. Turner, and Mrs. Mercer, and Sir W. Penn, who is come from Epsom not well, and Sir J. Minnes, who is not well neither. And so home to supper, and to set my books a little right, and then to bed. This day Betty Michell come and dined with us, the first day after her lying in, whom I was glad to see.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and thence to Sir W. Coventry, but he is gone out of town this morning, so thence to my Lord Arlington’s house, the first time I there since he come thither, at Goring House,4173 a very fine, noble place; and there he received me in sight of several Lords with great respect. I did give him an account of my journey; and here, while I waited for him a little, my Lord Orrery took notice of me, and begun discourse of hangings, and of the improvement of shipping: I not thinking that he knew me, but did then discover it, with a mighty compliment of my abilities and ingenuity, which I am mighty proud of; and he do speak most excellently. Thence to Westminster Hall, and so by coach to the old Exchange, and there did several businesses, and so home to dinner, and then abroad to Duck Lane, where I saw my belle femme of the book vendor, but had no opportunity para hazer con her. So away to Cooper’s, where I spent all the afternoon with my wife and girl, seeing him make an end of her picture, which he did to my great content, though not so great as, I confess, I expected, being not satisfied in the greatness of the resemblance, nor in the blue garment: but it is most certainly a most rare piece of work, as to the painting.4174 He hath £30 for his work—and the crystal, and case, and gold case comes to £8 3s. 4d.; and which I sent him this night, that I might be out of debt. Thence my people home, and I to Westminster Hall about a little business, and so by water home [to] supper, and my wife to read a ridiculous book I bought today of the History of the Taylors’ Company,4175 and all the while Deb. did comb my head, and I did toker her with my main para very great pleasure, and so to bed.
. Up, and by water to Sir W. Coventry to visit him, whom I find yet troubled at the Commissioners of Accounts, about this business of Sir W. Warren, which is a ridiculous thing, and can come to nothing but contempt, and thence to Westminster Hall, where the Parliament met enough to adjourne, which they did, to the 10th of November next, and so by water home to the office, and so to dinner, and thence at the Office all the afternoon till night, being mightily pleased with a little trial I have made of the use of a tube-spectacall of paper, tried with my right eye. This day I hear that, to the great joy of the Nonconformists, the time is out of the Act against them, so that they may meet: and they have declared that they will have a morning lecture4176 up again, which is pretty strange; and they are connived at by the King everywhere, I hear, in City and country. So to visit W. Penn, who is yet ill, and then home, where W. Batelier and Mrs. Turner come and sat and supped with us, and so they gone we to bed. This afternoon my wife, and Mercer, and Deb., went with Pelting to see the gypsies at Lambeth,4177 and have their fortunes told; but what they did, I did not enquire.
. Up, and all the morning busy at my office. Thence to the Excise Office, and so to the Temple to take counsel about Major Nicholls’s4178 business for the King. So to several places about business, and among others to Drumbleby’s about the mouths for my paper tubes, and so to the ’Change and home. Met Captain Cocke, who tells me that he hears for certain the Duke of York will lose the authority of an Admiral, and be governed by a Committee: and all our Office changed; only they are in dispute whether I shall continue or no, which puts new thoughts in me, but I know not whether to be glad or sorry. Home to dinner, where Pelting dines with us, and brings some partridges, which is very good meat; and, after dinner, I, and wife, and Mercer, and Deb., to the Duke of York’s house, and saw Mackbeth, to our great content, and then home, where the women went to the making of my tubes,4179 and I to the office, and then come Mrs. Turner and her husband to advise about their son, the Chaplain, who is turned out of his ship, a sorrow to them, which I am troubled for, and do give them the best advice I can, and so they gone we to bed.
. Up, and Greeting comes, and there he and I tried some things of Mr. Locke’s for two flageolets, to my great content, and this day my wife begins again to learn of him; for I have a great mind for her to be able to play a part with me. Thence I to the Office, where all the afternoon [morning?], and then to dinner, where W. Howe dined with me, who tells me for certain that Creed is like to speed in his match with Mrs. Betty Pickering. Here dined with me also Mr. Hollier, who is mighty vain in his pretence to talk Latin. So to the Office again all the afternoon till night, very busy, and so with much content home, and made my wife sing and play on the flageolet to me till I slept with great pleasure in bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall and St. James’s, and to see Sir W. Coventry, and discourse about business of our Office, telling him my trouble there, to see how things are ordered. I told him also what Cocke told me the other day, but he says there is not much in it, though he do know that this hath been in the eye of some persons to compass for the turning all things in the navy, and that it looks so like a popular thing as that he thinks something may be done in it, but whether so general or no, as I tell it him, he knows not. Thence to Whitehall, and there wait at the Council-chamber door a good while, talking with one or other, and so home by water, though but for a little while, because I am to return to Whitehall. At home I find Symson, putting up my new chimneypiece,4180 in our great chamber, which is very fine, but will cost a great deal of money, but it is not flung away. So back to Whitehall, and after the council up, I with Mr. Wren, by invitation, to Sir Stephen Fox’s to dinner, where the Cofferer4181 and Sir Edward Savage;4182 where many good stories of the antiquity and estates of many families at this day in Cheshire, and that part of the kingdom, more than what is on this side, near London. My Lady [Fox] dining with us; a very good lady, and a family governed so nobly and neatly as do me good to see it. Thence the Cofferer, Sir Stephen, and I to the Commissioners of the Treasury about business: and so I up to the Duke of York, who enquired for what I had promised him, about my observations of the miscarriages of our Office;4183 and I told him he should have it next week, being glad he called for it; for I find he is concerned to do something, and to secure himself thereby, I believe: for the world is labouring to eclipse him, I doubt; I mean, the factious part of the Parliament. The Office met this afternoon as usual, and waited on him; where, among other things, he talked a great while of his intentions of going to Dover soon, to be sworn as Lord Warden,4184 which is a matter of great ceremony and state, and so to the Temple with Mr. Wren, to the Attorney’s chamber, about business, but he abroad, and so I home, and there spent the evening talking with my wife and piping, and pleased with our chimneypiece, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy, and after dinner with my wife, Mercer, and Deb., to the King’s playhouse, and there saw Love’s Mistress4185 revived, the thing pretty good, but full of variety of divertisement. So home and to my business at the office, my eyes bad again, and so to bed.
. All the morning at my Office with W. Hewer, there drawing up my Report to the Duke of York, as I have promised, about the faults of this Office, hoping thereby to have opportunity of doing myself [something]. At noon to dinner, and again with him to work all the afternoon till night, till I was weary and had despatched a good deal of business, and so to bed after hearing my wife read a little.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and so to St. James’s, and thence with Mr. Wren by appointment in his coach to Hampstead, to speak with the Attorney-general,4186 whom we met in the fields, by his old route and house; and after a little talk about our business of Ackeworth,4187 went and saw the Lord Wotton’s4188 house4189 and garden, which is wonderful fine: too good for the house the gardens are, being, indeed, the most noble that ever I saw, and brave orange and lemon trees. Thence to Mr. Chichley’s4190 by invitation, and there dined with Sir John, his father not coming home. And while at dinner comes by the French Embassador Colbert’s mules, the first I eversaw, with their sumpter-clothes mighty rich, and his coaches, he being to have his entry today: but his things, though rich, are not new; supposed to be the same his brother4191 had the other day, at the treaty at Aix-la-Chapelle, in Flanders. Thence to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw Cupid’s Revenge,4192 under the new name of Love Despised, that hath something very good in it, though I like not the whole body of it. This day the first time acted here. Thence home, and there with Mr. Hater and W. Hewer late, reading over all the principal officers’ instructions in order to my great work upon my hand, and so to bed, my eyes very ill.
. Up, and to my office about my great business betimes, and so to the office, where all the morning. At noon dined, and then to the office all the afternoon also, and in the evening to Sir W. Coventry’s, but he not within, I took coach alone to the Park, to try to meet him there, but did not; but there were few coaches, but among the few there were in two coaches our two great beauties, my Lady Castlemayne and Richmond; the first time I saw the latter since she had the smallpox. I had much pleasure to see them, but I thought they were strange one to another. Thence going out I met a coach going, which I thought had Knepp in it, so I went back, but it was not she. So back to Whitehall and there took water, and so home, and busy late about my great letter to the Duke of York, and so to supper and to bed. …
. Up betimes, and all day and afternoon without going out, busy upon my great letter to the Duke of York, which goes on to my content. W. Hewer and Gibson I employ with me in it. This week my people wash, over the water, and so I little company at home. In the evening, being busy above, a great cry I hear, and go down; and what should it be but Jane, in a fit of direct raving, which lasted half-an-hour. Beyond four or five of our strength to keep her down; and, when all come to all, a fit of jealousy about Tom, with whom she is in love. So at night, I, and my wife, and W. Hewer called them to us, and there I did examine all the thing, and them, in league. She in love, and he hath got her to promise him to marry, and he is now cold in it, so that I must rid my hands of them, which troubles me, and the more because my head is now busy upon other greater things. I am vexed also to be told by W. Hewer that he is summoned to the Commissioners of Accounts about receiving a present of £30 from Mr. Mason, the timber merchant, though there be no harm in it, that will appear on his part, he having done them several lawful kindnesses and never demanded anything, as they themselves have this day declared to the Commissioners, they being forced up by the discovery of somebody that they in confidence had once told it to. So to supper vexed and my head full of care, and so to bed.
. Betimes at my business again, and so to the office, and dined with Brouncker and J. Minnes, at Sir W. Penn’s at a bad pasty of venison, and so to work again, and at it till past twelve at night, that I might get my great letter4193 to the Duke of York ready against tomorrow, which I shall do, to my great content. So to bed.
. Up betimes, and with my people again to work, and finished all before noon: and then I by water to Whitehall, and there did tell the Duke of York that I had done; and he hath to my great content desired me to come to him at Sunday next in the afternoon, to read it over, by which I have more time to consider and correct it. So back home and to the ’Change, in my way calling at Morris, my vintner’s, where I love to see su moher, though no acquaintance accostais this day con her. Did several things at the ’Change, and so home to dinner. After dinner I by coach to my bookseller’s in Duck Lane, and there did spend a little time and regardersu moher, and so to St. James’s, where did a little ordinary business; and by and by comes Monsieur Colbert, the French Embassador, to make his first visit to the Duke of York, and then to the Duchess: and I saw it: a silly piece of ceremony, he saying only a few formal words. A comely man, and in a black suit and cloak of silk, which is a strange fashion, now it hath been so long left off: This day I did first see the Duke of York’s room of pictures of some Maids of Honour, done by Lilly: good, but not like.4194 Thence to Reeves’s, and bought a reading-glass, and so to my bookseller’s again, there to buy a Book of Martyrs,4195 which I did agree for; and so, after seeing and beginning acquaintance con his femme, but very little, away home, and there busy very late at the correcting my great letter to the Duke of York, and so to bed.
. Up betimes, at it again with great content, and so to the Office, where all the morning, and did fall out with W. Penn about his slight performance of his office, and so home to dinner, fully satisfied that this Office must sink or the whole Service be undone. To the office all the afternoon again, and then home to supper and to bed, my mind being pretty well at ease, my great letter being now finished to my full content; and I thank God I have opportunity of doing it, though I know it will set the Office and me by the ears forever. This morning Captain Cocke comes, and tells me that he is now assured that it is true, what he told me the other day, that our whole Office will be turned out, only me, which, whether he says true or no, I know not, nor am much concerned, though I should be better contented to have it thus than otherwise. This afternoon, after I was weary in my business of the office, I went forth to the ’Change, thinking to have spoke with Captain Cocke, but he was not within. So I home, and took London-bridge in my way; walking down Fish Street and Gracious Street, to see how very fine a descent they have now made down the hill, that it is become very easy and pleasant, and going through Leaden-Hall, it being market-day, I did see a woman catched, that had stolen a shoulder of mutton off of a butcher’s stall, and carrying it wrapped up in a cloth, in a basket. The jade was surprised, and did not deny it, and the woman so silly, as to let her go that took it, only taking the meat.
. Up betimes, my head busy in my great letter, and I did first hang up my new map of Paris in my green room, and changed others in other places. Then to Captain Cocke’s, thinking to have talked more of what he told me yesterday, but he was not within. So back to church, and heard a good sermon of Mr. Gifford’s at our church, upon “Seek ye first the kingdom of Heaven and its righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” A very excellent and persuasive, good and moral sermon. Showed, like a wise man, that righteousness is a surer moral way of being rich, than sin and villainy. Then home to dinner, where Mr. Pelling, who brought us a hare, which we had at dinner, and W. Howe. After dinner to the Office, Mr. Gibson and I, to examine my letter to the Duke of York, which, to my great joy, I did very well by my paper tube, without pain to my eyes. And I do mightily like what I have therein done; and did, according to the Duke of York’s order, make haste to St. James’s, and about four o’clock got thither: and there the Duke of York was ready, to expect me, and did hear it all over with extraordinary content; and did give me many and hearty thanks, and in words the most expressive tell me his sense of my good endeavours, and that he would have a care of me on all occasions; and did, with much inwardness4196 tell me what was doing, suitable almost to what Captain Cocke tells me, of designs to make alterations in the Navy; and is most open to me in them, and with utmost confidence desires my further advice on all occasions: and he resolves to have my letter transcribed, and sent forthwith to the Office. So, with as much satisfaction as I could possibly, or did hope for, and obligation on the Duke of York’s side professed to me, I away into the Park, and there met Mr. Pierce and his wife, and sister and brother, and a little boy, and with them to Mulberry Garden, and spent 18s. on them, and there left them, she being again with child, and by it, the least pretty that ever I saw her. And so I away, and got a coach, and home, and there with my wife and W. Hewer, talking all the evening, my mind running on the business of the Office, to see what more I can do to the rendering myself acceptable and useful to all and to the King. We to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning upon considerations on the Victualler’s contract, and then home to dinner, where my wife is upon hanging the long chamber where the girl lies, with the sad stuff4197 that was in the best chamber, in order to the hanging that with tapestry. So to dinner, and then to the office again, where all the afternoon till night, we met to discourse upon the alterations which are propounded to be made in the draft of the victualler’s contract which we did lately make, and then we being up comes Mr. Child,4198 Papillion and Littleton, his partners, to discourse upon the matter with me, which I did, and spent all the evening with them at the office, and so, they being gone, I to supper and talk with my wife, and so to bed.
. Up, and by water to St. James’s, and there, with Mr. Wren, did discourse about my great letter, which the Duke of York hath given him: and he hath set it to be transcribed by Billings, his man, whom, as he tells me, he can most confide in for secrecy, and is much pleased with it, and earnest to have it be; and he and I are like to be much together in the considering how to reform the Office, and that by the Duke of York’s command. Thence I, mightily pleased with this success, away to the Office, where all the morning, my head full of this business. And it is pretty how Lord Brouncker this day did tell me how he hears that a design is on foot to remove us out of the Office: and proposes that we two do agree to draw up a form of a new constitution of the Office, there to provide remedies for the evils we are now under, so that we may be beforehand with the world, which I agreed to, saying nothing of my design; and, the truth is, he is the best man of them all, and I would be glad, next myself, to save him; for, as he deserves best, so I doubt he needs his place most. So home to dinner at noon, and all the afternoon busy at the office till night, and then with my mind full of business now in my head, I to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning almost, busy about business against the afternoon, and we met a little to sign two or three things at the Board of moment, and thence at noon home to dinner, and so away to Whitehall by water. In my way to the Old Swan,4199 finding a great many people gathered together in Cannon Street about a man that was working in the ruins, and the ground did sink under him, and he sunk in, and was forced to be dug out again, but without hurt. Thence to Whitehall, and it is strange to say with what speed4200 the people employed do pull down Paul’s steeple, and with what ease: it is said that it, and the choir are to be taken down this year,4201 and another church begun in the room thereof, the next. At Whitehall we met at the Treasury chamber, and there before the Lords did debate our draft of the victualling contract with the several bidders for it, which were Sir D. Gawden, Mr. Child and his fellows, and Mr. Dorrington and his, a poor variety in a business of this value. There till after candlelighting, and so home by coach with Sir D. Gawden, who, by the way, tells me how the City do go on in several things towards the building of the public places, which I am glad to hear; and gives hope that in a few years it will be a glorious place; but we met with several stops and new troubles in the way in the streets, so as makes it bad to travel in the dark now through the City. So I to Mr. Batelier’s by appointment, where I find my wife, and Deb., and Mercer; Mrs. Pierce and her husband, son, and daughter; and Knepp and Harris, and W. Batelier, and his sister Mary, and cousin Gumbleton, a good-humoured, fat young gentleman, son to the jeweller, that dances well; and here danced all night long, with a noble supper; and about two in the morning the table spread again for a noble breakfast beyond all moderation, that put me out of countenance, so much and so good. Mrs. Pierce and her people went home betimes, she being big with child; but Knepp and the rest stayed till almost three in the morning, and then broke up.
. Knepp home with us, and I to bed, and rose about six, mightily pleased with last night’s mirth, and away by water to St. James’s, and there, with Mr. Wren, did correct his copy of my letter, which the Duke of York hath signed in my very words, without alteration of a syllable.4202 And so pleased therewith, I to my Lord Brouncker, who I find within, but hath business, and so comes not to the Office today. And so I by water to the Office, where we sat all the morning; and, just as the Board rises, comes the Duke of York’s letter, which I knowing, and the Board not being full, and desiring rather to have the Duke of York deliver it himself to us, I suppressed it for this day, my heart beginning to falsify in this business, as being doubtful of the trouble it may give me by provoking them; but, however, I am resolved to go through it, and it is too late to help it now. At noon to dinner to Captain Cocke’s, where I met with Mr. Wren; my going being to tell him what I have done, which he likes, and to confer with Cocke about our Office; who tells me that he is confident the design of removing our Officers do hold, but that he is sure that I am safe enough. Which pleases me, though I do not much show it to him, but as a thing indifferent. So away home, and there met at Sir Richard Ford’s with the Duke of York’s Commissioners about our Prizes, with whom we shall have some trouble before we make an end with them, and hence, staying a little with them, I with my wife, and W. Batelier, and Deb.; carried them to Bartholomew Fair, where we saw the dancing of the ropes and nothing else, it being late, and so back home to supper and to bed, after having done at my office.
. Busy at the office till toward 10 o’clock, and then by water to Whitehall, where attending the Council’s call all the morning with Lord Brouncker, W. Penn, and the rest, about the business of supernumeraries in the fleet, but were not called in. But here the Duke of York did call me aside, and told me that he must speak with me in the afternoon, with Mr. Wren, for that now he hath got the paper from my Lord Keeper4203 about the exceptions taken against the management of the Navy; and so we are to debate upon answering them. At noon I home with W. Coventry to his house; and there dined with him, and talked freely with him; and did acquaint him with what I have done, which he is well pleased with, and glad of: and do tell me that there are endeavours on foot to bring the Navy into new, but, he fears, worse hands. After much talk with great content with him, I walked to the Temple, and stayed at Starky’s, my bookseller’s (looking over Dr. Heylin’s new book of the Life of Bishop Laud,4204 a strange book of the Church History of his time), till Mr. Wren comes, and by appointment we to the Attorney General’s chamber, and there read and heard the witnesses in the business of Ackeworth, most troublesome and perplexed by the counter swearing of the witnesses one against the other, and so with Mr. Wren away thence to St. [James’s] for his papers, and so to Whitehall, and after the Committee was done at the Council chamber about the business of Supernumeraries, wherein W. Penn was to do all and did, but like an ignorant illiterate coxcomb, the Duke of York fell to work with us, the Committee being gone, in the Council-chamber; and there, with his own hand, did give us his long letter, telling us that he had received several from us, and now did give us one from him, taking notice of our several duties and failures, and desired answer to it, as he therein desired; this pleased me well; and so fell to other business, and then parted. And the Duke of York, and Wren, and I, it being now candlelight, into the Duke of York’s closet in Whitehall; and there read over this paper of my Lord Keeper’s, wherein are laid down the faults of the Navy, so silly, and the remedies so ridiculous, or else the same that are now already provided, that we thought it not to need any answer, the Duke of York being able himself to do it: that so it makes us admire the confidence of these men to offer things so silly, in a business of such moment. But it is a most perfect instance of the complexion of the times! and so the Duke of York said himself, who, I perceive, is mightily concerned in it, and do, again and again, recommend it to Mr. Wren and me together, to consider upon remedies fit to provide for him to propound to the King, before the rest of the world, and particularly the Commissioners of Accounts, who are men of understanding and order, to find our faults, and offer remedies of their own, which I am glad of, and will endeavour to do something in it. So parted, and with much difficulty, by candlelight, walked over the Matted Gallery, as it is now with the mats and boards all taken up, so that we walked over the rafters. But strange to see what hard matter the plaister of Paris is, that is there taken up, as hard as stone! And pity to see Holben’s4205 work in the ceiling blotted on, and only whited over! Thence, with much ado, by several coaches home, to supper and to bed. My wife having been this day with Hales, to sit for her hand to be mended, in her picture.
. Up, and all the morning at the Office, where the Duke of York’s long letter was read, to their great trouble, and their suspecting me to have been the writer of it. And at noon comes, by appointment, Harris to dine with me and after dinner he and I to Chirurgeon’s-hall, where they are building it new, very fine; and there to see their theatre; which stood all the fire, and, which was our business, their great picture of Holben’s,4206 thinking to have bought it, by the help of Mr. Pierce, for a little money: I did think to give £200 for it, it being said to be worth £1,000; but it is so spoiled that I have no mind to it, and is not a pleasant, though a good picture. Thence carried Harris to his playhouse, where, though four o’clock, so few people there at The Impertinents, as I went out; and do believe they did not act, though there was my Lord Arlington and his company there. So I out, and met my wife in a coach, and stopped her going thither to meet me; and took her, and Mercer, and Deb., to Bartholomew Fair, and there did see a ridiculous, obscene little stage-play, called Marry Andrey;4207 a foolish thing, but seen by everybody; and so to Jacob Hall’s4208 dancing of the ropes; a thing worth seeing, and mightily followed, and so home and to the office, and then to bed. Writing to my father tonight not to unfurnish our house in the country for my sister, who is going to her own house, because I think I may have occasion myself to come thither; and so I do, by our being put out of the Office, which do not at all trouble me to think of.
. Walked to St. James’s and Pell Mell, and read over, with Sir W. Coventry, my long letter to the Duke of York, and which the Duke of York hath, from mine, wrote to the Board, wherein he is mightily pleased, and I perceive do put great value upon me, and did talk very openly on all matters of State, and how some people have got the bit into their mouths, meaning the Duke of Buckingham and his party, and would likely run away with all. But what pleased me mightily was to hear the good character he did give of my Lord Falmouth for his generosity, good-nature, desire of public good, and low thoughts of his own wisdom; his employing his interest in the King to do good offices to all people, without any other fault than the freedom he do learn in France of thinking himself obliged to serve his King in his pleasures: and was W. Coventry’s particular friend: and W. Coventry do tell me very odde circumstances about the fatality of his death,4209 which are very strange. Thence to Whitehall to chapel, and heard the anthem, and did dine with the Duke of Albemarle in a dirty manner as ever. All the afternoon, I sauntered up and down the house and Park. And there was a Committee for Tangier met, wherein Lord Middleton would, I think, have found fault with me for want of coals; but I slighted it, and he made nothing of it, but was thought to be drunk; and I see that he hath a mind to find fault with me and Creed, neither of us having yet applied ourselves to him about anything: but do talk of his profits and perquisites taken from him, and garrison reduced, and that it must be increased, and such things, as, I fear, he will be just such another as my Lord Tiviott and the rest, to ruin that place. So I to the Park, and there walk an hour or two; and in the King’s garden, and saw the Queen and ladies walk; and I did steal some apples off the trees; and here did see my Lady Richmond, who is of a noble person as ever I saw, but her face worse than it was considerably by the smallpox: her sister4210 is also very handsome. Coming into the Park, and the door kept strictly, I had opportunity of handing in the little, pretty, squinting girl of the Duke of York’s house, but did not make acquaintance with her; but let her go, and a little girl that was with her, to walk by themselves. So to Whitehall in the evening, to the Queen’s side, and there met the Duke of York; and he did tell me and W. Coventry, who was with me, how that Lord Anglesey did take notice of our reading his long and sharp letter to the Board; but that it was the better, at least he said so. The Duke of York, I perceive, is earnest in it, and will have good effects of it; telling W. Coventry that it was a letter that might have come from the Commissioners of Accounts, but it was better it should come first from him. I met Lord Brouncker, who, I perceive, and the rest, do smell that it comes from me, but dare not find fault with it; and I am glad of it, it being my glory and defence that I did occasion and write it. So by water home, and did spend the evening with W. Hewer, telling him how we are all like to be turned out, Lord Brouncker telling me this evening that the Duke of Buckingham did, within few hours, say that he had enough to turn us all out which I am not sorry for at all, for I know the world will judge me to go for company; and my eyes are such as I am not able to do the business of my Office as I used, and would desire to do, while I am in it. So with full content, declaring all our content in being released of my employment, my wife and I to bed, and W. Hewer home, and so all to bed.
. Up, and to my office, there to set my journal for all the last week, and so by water to Westminster to the Exchequer, and thence to the Swan, and there drank and did baiser la fille there, and so to the New Exchange and paid for some things, and so to Hercules Pillars,4211 and there dined all alone, while I sent my shoe to have the heel fastened at Wotton’s, and thence to Whitehall to the Treasury chamber, where did a little business, and thence to the Duke of York’s playhouse and there met my wife and Deb. and Mary Mercer and Batelier, where also W. Hewer was, and saw Hamlet, which we have not seen this year before, or more; and mightily pleased with it; but, above all, with Betterton, the best part I believe, that ever man acted. Thence to the Fair, and saw Polichinelle, and so home, and after a little supper to bed. This night lay the first night in Deb.’s chamber, which is now hung with that that hung our great chamber, and is now a very handsome room. This day Mrs. Batelier did give my wife a mighty pretty Spaniel bitch [Flora], which she values mightily, and is pretty; but as a newcomer, I cannot be fond of her.
September 1668
. Up and all the morning at the office busy, and after dinner to the office again busy till about four, and then I abroad (my wife being gone to Hales’s about drawing her hand new in her picture) and I to see Betty Michell, which I did, but su mari was dentro, and no pleasure. So to the Fair, and there saw several sights; among others, the mare that tells money,4212 and many things to admiration; and, among others, come to me, when she was bid to go to him of the company that most loved a pretty wench in a corner. And this did cost me 12d. to the horse, which I had flung him before, and did give me occasion to baiser a mighty belle fille that was in the house that was exceeding plain, but fort belle. At night going home I went to my bookseller’s in Duck Lane, and find her weeping in the shop, so as ego could not have any discourse con her nor ask the reason, so departed and took coach home, and taking coach was set on by a wench that was naught, and would have gone along with me to her lodging in Shoe Lane, but ego did donner her a shilling … and left her, and home, where after supper, W. Batelier with us, we to bed. This day Mrs. Martin come to see us, and dined with us.
. Fast-day for the burning of London, strictly observed. I at home at the office all day, forenoon and afternoon, about the Victualler’s contract and other things, and at night home to supper, having had but a cold dinner, Mr. Gibson with me; and this evening comes Mr. Hill to discourse with me about Yeabsly and Lanyon’s business, wherein they are troubled, and I fear they have played the knave too far for me to help or think fit to appear for them. So he gone, and after supper, to bed, being troubled with a summons, though a kind one, from Mr. Jessop, to attend the Commissioners of Accounts tomorrow.
. Up, and to the Office, where busy till it was time to go to the Commissioners of Accounts, which I did about noon, and there was received with all possible respect, their business being only to explain the meaning of one of their late demands to us, which we had not answered in our answer to them, and, this being done, I away with great content, my mind being troubled before, and so to the Exchequer and several places, calling on several businesses, and particularly my bookseller’s, among others, for Hobbs’s Leviathan,4213 which is now mightily called for; and what was heretofore sold for 8s. I now give 24s. for, at the second hand, and is sold for 30s., it being a book the Bishops will not let be printed again, and so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon, and towards evening by water to the Commissioners of the Treasury, and presently back again, and there met a little with W. Penn and the rest about our Prize accounts, and so W. Penn and Lord Brouncker and I at the lodging of the latter to read over our new draft of the victualler’s contract, and so broke up and home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and met at the Office all the morning; and at noon my wife, and Deb., and Mercer, and W. Hewer and I to the Fair, and there, at the old house, did eat a pig, and was pretty merry, but saw no sights, my wife having a mind to see the play Bartholomew-Fair, with puppets. Which we did, and it is an excellent play; the more I see it, the more I love the wit of it; only the business of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, they being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest. And here Knepp come to us, and sat with us, and thence took coach in two coaches, and losing one another, my wife, and Knepp, and I to Hercules Pillars, and there supped, and I did take from her mouth the words and notes of her song of “the Larke,” which pleases me mightily. And so set her at home, and away we home, where our company come home before us. This night Knepp tells us that there is a Spanish woman lately come over, that pretends to sing as well as Mrs. Knight; both of which I must endeavour to hear. So, after supper, to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and to the office to work all the afternoon again till the evening, and then by coach to Mr. Hales’s new house, where, I find, he hath finished my wife’s hand, which is better than the other; and here I find Harris’s picture,4214 done in his habit of Henry the Fifth;4215 mighty like a player, but I do not think the picture near so good as any yet he hath made for me: however, it is pretty well, and thence through the fair home, but saw nothing, it being late, and so home to my business at the office, and thence to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes, and got myself ready to go by water, and about nine o’clock took boat with Henry Russell to Gravesend, coming thither about one, where, at the Ship, I dined; and thither come to me Mr. Hosier,4216 whom I went to speak with, about several businesses of work that he is doing, and I would have him do, of writing work, for me. And I did go with him to his lodging, and there did see his wife, a pretty tolerable woman, and do find him upon an extraordinary good work of designing a method of keeping our Storekeeper’s Accounts, in the Navy. Here I should have met with Mr. Wilson, but he is sick, and could not come from Chatham to me. So, having done with Hosier, I took boat again the beginning of the flood, and come home by nine at night, with much pleasure, it being a fine day. Going down I spent reading of the Five Sermons of Five Several Styles,4217 worth comparing one with another: but I do think, when all is done, that, contrary to the design of the book, the Presbyterian style and the Independent are the best of the five sermons to be preached in; this I do, by the best of my present judgment think, and coming back I spent reading of a book of warrants of our office in the first Dutch war, and do find that my letters and warrants and method will be found another gate’s business than this that the world so much adores, and I am glad for my own sake to find it so. My boy was with me, and read to me all day, and we sang a while together, and so home to supper a little, and so to bed.
. At the office all the morning, we met, and at noon dined at home, and after dinner carried my wife and Deb. to Unthanke’s, and I to Whitehall with Mr. Gibson, where the rest of our officers met us, and to the Commissioners of the Treasury about the Victualling contract, but stayed not long, but thence, sending Gibson to my wife, I with Lord Brouncker (who was this day in an unusual manner merry, I believe with drink), J. Minnes, and W. Penn to Bartholomew-Fair; and there saw the dancing mare again, which, today, I find to act much worse than the other day, she forgetting many things, which her master beat her for, and was mightily vexed; and then the dancing of the ropes, and also the little stage-play, which is very ridiculous, and so home to the office with Lord Brouncker, W. Penn, and myself (J. Minnes being gone home before not well), and so, after a little talk together, I home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and to St. James’s, there to talk a little with Mr. Wren about the private business we are upon, in the Office, where he tells me he finds that they all suspect me to be the author of the great letter,4218 which I value not, being satisfied that it is the best thing I could ever do for myself; and so, after some discourse of this kind more, I back to the Office, where all the morning; and after dinner to it again, all the afternoon, and very late, and then home to supper, where met W. Batelier and Betty Turner; and, after some talk with them, and supper, we to bed. This day, I received so earnest an invitation again from Roger Pepys, to come to Sturbridge-Fair [at Cambridge] that I resolve to let my wife go, which she shall do the next week, and so to bed. This day I received two letters from the Duke of Richmond about his yacht, which is newly taken into the King’s service, and I am glad of it, hoping hereby to oblige him, and to have occasions of seeing his noble Duchess, which I admire.
. Up, and to the office, and thence to the Duke of Richmond’s lodgings by his desire, by letter, yesterday. I find him at his lodgings in the little building in the bowling-green, at Whitehall, that was begun to be built by Captain Rolt.4219 They are fine rooms. I did hope to see his lady, the beautiful Mrs. Stuart, but she, I hear, is in the country. His business was about his yacht, and he seems a mighty good-natured man, and did presently write me a warrant for a doe from Cobham, when the season comes, bucks season being past. I shall make much of this acquaintance, that I may live to see his lady near. Thence to Westminster, to Sir R. Longs Office:4220 and, going, met Mr. George Montagu, who talked and complimented me mightily; and long discourse I had with him, who, for news, tells me for certain that Trevor do come to be Secretary at Michaelmas, and that Morrice goes out, and he believes, without any compensation. He tells me that now Buckingham does rule all; and the other day, in the King’s journey he is now on, at Bagshot, and that way, he caused Prince Rupert’s horses to be turned out of an inne, and caused his own to be kept there, which the Prince complained of to the King, and the Duke of York seconded the complaint; but the King did overrule it for Buckingham, by which there are high displeasures among them; and Buckingham and Arlington rule all. Thence by water home and to dinner, and after dinner by water again to Whitehall, where Brouncker, W. Penn, and I attended the Commissioners of the Treasury about the victualling-contract, where high words between Sir Thomas Clifford and us, and myself more particularly, who told him that something, that he said was told him about this business, was a flat untruth. However, we went on to our business in, the examination of the draught, and so parted, and I vexed at what happened, and Brouncker and W. Penn and I home in a hackney coach. And I all that night so vexed that I did not sleep almost all night, which shows how unfit I am for trouble. So, after a little supper, vexed, and spending a little time melancholy in making a base to the Lark’s song, I to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there to Sir W. Coventry’s house, where I stayed in his dining room two hours thinking to speak with him, but I find Garraway and he are private, which I am glad of, Captain Cocke bringing them this day together. Cocke come out and talked to me, but it was too late for me to stay longer, and therefore to the Treasury chamber, where the rest met, and W. Coventry come presently after. And we spent the morning in finishing the Victualler’s contract, and so I by water home, and there dined with me Batelier and his wife, and Mercer, and my people, at a good venison-pasty; and after dinner I and W. Howe, who come to see me, by water to the Temple, and met our four women, my wife, M. Batelier, Mercer, and Deb., at the Duke’s playhouse, and there saw The Maid in the Mill, revived—a pretty, harmless old play. Thence to Unthanke’s, and ’Change, where wife did a little business, while Mercer and I stayed in the coach; and, in a quarter of an hour, I taught her the whole Larke’s song perfectly, so excellent an ear she hath. Here we at Unthanke’s ’light, and walked them to Whitehall, my wife mighty angry at it, and did give me ill words before Batelier, which vexed me, but I made no matter of it, but vexed to myself. So landed them, it being fine moonshine, at the Bear,4221 and so took water to the other side, and home. I to the office, where a child is laid at Sir J. Minnes’s door, as there was one heretofore. So being good friends again, my wife seeking it, by my being silent I overcoming her, we to bed.
. Up, and at my Office all the morning, and after dinner all the afternoon in my house with Batelier shut up, drawing up my defence to the Duke of York upon his great letter, which I have industriously taken this opportunity of doing for my future use. At it late, and my mind and head mighty full of it all night.
. At it again in the morning, and then to the Office, where till noon, and I do see great whispering among my brethren about their replies to the Duke of York, which vexed me, though I know no reason for it; for I have no manner of ground to fear them. At noon home to dinner, and, after dinner, to work all the afternoon again. At home late, and so to bed.
. The like all this morning and afternoon, and finished it to my mind. So about four o’clock walked to the Temple, and there by coach to St. James’s, and met, to my wish, the Duke of York and Mr. Wren; and understand the Duke of York hath received answers from Brouncker,4222 W. Penn, and J. Minnes; and as soon as he saw me, he bid Mr. Wren read them over with me. So having no opportunity of talk with the Duke of York, and Mr. Wren some business to do, he put them into my hands like an idle companion, to take home with me before himself had read them, which do give me great opportunity of altering my answer, if there was cause. So took a hackney and home, and after supper made my wife to read them all over, wherein she is mighty useful to me; and I find them all evasions, and in many things false, and in few, to the full purpose. Little said reflective on me, though W. Penn and J. Minnes do mean me in one or two places, and J. Minnes a little more plainly would lead the Duke of York to question the exactness of my keeping my records; but all to no purpose. My mind is mightily pleased by this, if I can but get time to have a copy taken of them, for my future use; but I must return them tomorrow. So to bed.
. Up betimes, and walked to the Temple, and stopped, viewing the Exchange, and Paul’s, and St. Fayth’s, where strange how the very sight of the stones falling from the top of the steeple do make me seasick! But no hurt, I hear, hath yet happened in all this work of the steeple, which is very much. So from the Temple I by coach to St. James’s, where I find Sir W. Penn and Lord Anglesey, who delivered this morning his answer to the Duke of York, but I could not see it. But after being above with the Duke of York, but said nothing, I down with Mr. Wren; and he and I read all over that I had, and I expounded them to him, and did so order it that I had them home with me, so that I shall, to my heart’s wish, be able to take a copy of them. After dinner, I by water to Whitehall; and there, with the Cofferer4223 and Sir Stephen Fox, attended the Commissioners of the Treasury, about bettering our fund; and are promised it speedily. Thence by water home, and so all the afternoon and evening late busy at the office, and then home to supper, and Mrs. Turner comes to see my wife before her journey tomorrow, but she is in bed, and so sat talking to little purpose with me a great while, and, she gone, I to bed.
. Up mighty betimes, my wife and people, Mercer lying here all night, by three o’clock, and I about five; and they before, and I after them, to the coach in Bishopsgate Street, which was not ready to set out. So took wife and Mercer and Deb. and W. Hewer (who are all to set out this day for Cambridge, to cousin Roger Pepys’s, to see Sturbridge Fair); and I showed them the Exchange, which is very finely carried on, with good dispatch. So walked back and saw them gone, there being only one man in the coach besides them; and so home to the Office, where Mrs. Daniel come and stayed talking to little purpose with me to borrow money, but I did not lend her any, having not opportunity para hazer allo thing mit her. At the office all the morning, and at noon dined with my people at home, and so to the office again a while, and so by water to the King’s playhouse, to see a new play, acted but yesterday, a translation out of French by Dryden, called The Ladies à la Mode:4224 so mean a thing as, when they come to say it would be acted again tomorrow, both he that said it, Beeson,4225 and the pit fell a-laughing, there being this day not a quarter of the pit full. Thence to St. James’s and Whitehall to wait on the Duke of York, but could not come to speak to him till time to go home, and so by water home, and there late at the office and my chamber busy, and so after a little supper to bed.
. Up; and dressing myself I did begin para toker the breasts of my maid Jane, which elle did give way to more than usual heretofore, so I have a design to try more when I can bring it to. So to the office, and thence to St. James’s to the Duke of York, walking it to the Temple, and in my way observe that the Stockes4226 are now pulled quite down; and it will make the coming into Cornhill and Lumber Street mighty noble. I stopped, too, at Paul’s, and there did go into St. Fayth’s Church, and also in the body of the west part of the Church; and do see a hideous sight of the walls of the Church ready to fall, that I was in fear as long as I was in it: and here I saw the great vaults underneath the body of the Church. No hurt, I hear, is done yet, since their going to pull down the Church and steeple; but one man, on Monday this week, fell from the top to a piece of the roof, of the east end, that stands next the steeple, and there broke himself all to pieces. It is pretty here to see how the late Church was but a case wrought over the old Church; for you may see the very old pillars standing whole within the wall of this. When I come to St. James’s, I find the Duke of York gone with the King to see the muster of the Guards in Hyde Park; and their Colonel, the Duke of Monmouth, to take his command this day of the King’s Life-Guard, by surrender of my Lord Gerard. So I took a hackney-coach and saw it all: and indeed it was mighty noble, and their firing mighty fine, and the Duke of Monmouth in mighty rich clothes; but the well-ordering of the men I understand not. Here, among a thousand coaches that were there, I saw and spoke to Mrs. Pierce: and by and by Mr. Wren hunts me out, and gives me my Lord Anglesey’s answer to the Duke of York’s letter, where, I perceive, he do do what he can to hurt me, by bidding the Duke of York call for my books: but this will do me all the right in the world, and yet I am troubled at it. So away out of the Park, and home; and there Mr. Gibson and I to dinner: and all the afternoon with him, writing over anew, and a little altering, my answer to the Duke of York, which I have not yet delivered, and so have the opportunity of doing it after seeing all their answers, though this do give me occasion to alter very little. This done, he to write it over, and I to the Office, where late, and then home; and he had finished it; and then he to read to me the life of Archbishop Laud,4227 wrote by Dr. Heylin; which is a shrewd book, but that which I believe will do the Bishops in general no great good, but hurt, it pleads for so much Popish. So after supper to bed. This day my father’s letters tell me of the death of poor Fancy, in the country, big with puppies, which troubles me, as being one of my oldest acquaintances and servants. Also good Stankes is dead.
. Up, and all the morning sitting at the office, where everybody grown mighty cautious in what they do, or omit to do, and at noon comes Knepp, with design to dine with Lord Brouncker, but she being undressed, and there being much company, dined with me; and after dinner I out with her, and carried her to the playhouse; and in the way did give her five guineas as a fairing, I having given her nothing a great while, and her coming hither sometimes having been matter of cost to her, and so I to St. James’s, but missed of the Duke of York, and so went back to the King’s playhouse, and saw Rollo, Duke of Normandy,4228 which, for old acquaintance, pleased me pretty well, and so home and to my business, and to read again, and to bed. This evening Batelier comes to tell me that he was going down to Cambridge to my company, to see the Fair, which vexed me, and the more because I fear he do know that Knepp did dine with me today.4229
. Up, and to St. James’s, and there took a turn or two in the Park; and then up to the Duke of York, and there had opportunity of delivering my answer to his late letter, which he did not read, but give to Mr. Wren, as looking on it as a thing I needed not have done, but only that I might not give occasion to the rest to suspect my communication with the Duke of York against them. So now I am at rest in that matter, and shall be more, when my copies are finished of their answers, which I am now taking with all speed. Thence to my several booksellers and elsewhere, about several errands, and so at noon home, and after dinner by coach to Whitehall, and thither comes the Duke of York to us, and by and by met at the robe chamber upon our usual business, where the Duke of York I find somewhat sour, and particularly angry with Lord Anglesey for his not being there now, nor at other times so often as he should be with us. So to the King’s house, and saw a piece of Henry the Fourth; at the end of the play, thinking to have gone abroad with Knepp, but it was too late, and she to get her part against tomorrow, in The Silent Woman, and so I only set her at home, and away home myself, and there to read again and sup with Gibson, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy, and so dined with my people at home, and then to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Silent Woman; the best comedy, I think, that ever was wrote; and sitting by Shadwell4230 the poet, he was big with admiration of it. Here was my Lord Brouncker and W. Penn and their ladies in the box, being grown mighty kind of a sudden; but, God knows, it will last but a little while, I dare swear. Knepp did her part mighty well.4231 And so home straight, and to work, and particularly to my cousin Roger, who, W. Hewer and my wife writes me, do use them with mighty plenty and noble entertainment: so home to supper, and to bed. All the news now is, that Mr. Trevor is for certain now to be Secretary, in Morrice’s place, which the Duke of York did himself tell me yesterday; and also that Parliament is to be adjourned to the 1st of March, which do please me well, hoping thereby to get my things in a little better order than I should have done; and the less attendances at that end of the town in winter. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to set some papers to rights in my chamber, and the like in my office, and so to church, at our own church, and heard but a dull sermon of one Dr. Hicks, who is a suitor to Mrs. Howell, the widow of our turner of the Navy; thence home to dinner, staying till past one o’clock for Harris, whom I invited, and to bring Shadwell the poet with him; but they come not, and so a good dinner lost, through my own folly. And so to dinner alone, having since church heard the boy read over Dryden’s Reply to Sir R. Howard’s Answer, about his “Essay of Poesy,” and a letter in answer4232 to that; the last whereof is mighty silly, in behalf of Howard. Thence walked forth and got a coach and to visit Mrs. Pierce, with whom, and him, I stayed a little while, and do hear how the Duchess of Monmouth is at this time in great trouble of the shortness of her lame leg, which is likely to grow shorter and shorter, that she will never recover it.4233 Thence to St. Margaret’s Church, thinking to have seen Betty Michell, but she was not there. So back, and walked to Gray’s Inn walks a while, but little company; and so over the fields to Clerkenwell, to see whether I could find that the fair Botelers4234 do live there still, I seeing Frances the other day in a coach with Cary Dillon,4235 her old servant, but know not where she lives. So walked home, and there walked in the garden an hour, it being mighty pleasant weather, and so took my Lady Penn and Mrs. Markham home with me and sent for Mrs. Turner, and by and by comes Sir W. Penn and supped with me, a good supper, part of my dinner today. They gone, Mrs. Turner stayed an hour talking with me. … So parted, and I to bed.
. Up, and betimes Sir D. Gawden with me talking about the Victualling business, which is now under dispute for a new contract, or whether it shall be put into a Commission. He gone, comes Mr. Hill to talk with me about Lanyon’s business, and so being in haste I took him to the water with me, and so to Whitehall, and there left him, and I to Sir W. Coventry, and showed him my answer to the Duke of York’s great letter, which he likes well. We also discoursed about the Victualling business, which he thinks there is a design to put into a way of Commission, but do look upon all things to be managed with faction, and is grieved under it. So to St. James’s, and there the Duke of York did of his own accord come to me, and tell me that he had read, and do like of, my answers to the objections which he did give me the other day, about the Navy; and so did W. Coventry too, who told me that the Duke of York had shown him them. So to Whitehall a little and the Chequer, and then by water home to dinner with my people, where Tong was also this day with me, whom I shall employ for a time, and so out again and by water to Somerset House, but when come thither I turned back and to Southwarke-Fair, very dirty, and there saw the puppet-show of Whittington, which was pretty to see; and how that idle thing do work upon people that see it, and even myself too! And thence to Jacob Hall’s dancing on the ropes, where I saw such action as I never saw before, and mightily worth seeing; and here took acquaintance with a fellow that carried me to a tavern, whither come the music of this booth, and by and by Jacob Hall himself, with whom I had a mind to speak, to hear whether he had ever any mischief by falls in his time. He told me, “Yes, many; but never to the breaking of a limb:” he seems a mighty strong man. So giving them a bottle or two of wine, I away with Payne, the waterman. He, seeing me at the play, did get a link to light me, and so light me to the Beare,4236 where Bland, my waterman, waited for me with gold and other things he kept for me, to the value of £40 and more, which I had about me, for fear of my pockets being cut. So by link-light through the bridge, it being mighty dark, but still weather, and so home, where I find my draught of The Resolution come, finished, from Chatham; but will cost me, one way or other, about £12 or £13, in the board, frame, and garnishing, which is a little too much, but I will not be beholden to the King’s officers that do it. So to supper, and the boy to read to me, and so to bed. This day I met Mr. Moore in the New Exchange, and had much talk of my Lord’s concernments. This day also come out first the new five-pieces in gold, coined by the Guinea Company;4237 and I did get two pieces of Mr. Holder.4238
. Up, and to the Office, where sitting all the morning: at noon, home to dinner, with my people, and so to the Office again, where busy all the afternoon, and in the evening spent my time walking in the dark, in the garden, to favour my eyes, which I find nothing but ease to help. In the garden there comes to me my Lady Penn and Mrs. Turner and Markham, and we sat and talked together, and I carried them home, and there eat a bit of something, and by and by comes Sir W. Penn, and eat with us, and mighty merry—in appearance, at least, he being on all occasions glad to be at friendship with me, though we hate one another, and know it on both sides. They gone, Mrs. Turner and I to walk in the garden. … So led her home, and I back to bed. This day Mr. Wren did give me, at the Board, Commissioner Middleton’s answer to the Duke of York’s great letter; so that now I have all of them.
. At my office busy all the morning. At noon comes Mr. Evelyn to me, about some business with the Office, and there in discourse tells me of his loss, to the value of £500, which he hath met with, in a late attempt of making of bricks4239 upon an adventure with others, by which he presumed to have got a great deal of money: so that I see the most ingenious men may sometimes be mistaken. So to the ’Change a little, and then home to dinner, and then by water to Whitehall, to attend the Commissioners of the Treasury with Alderman Backewell, about £10,000 he is to lend us for Tangier, and then up to a Committee of the Council, where was the Duke of York, and they did give us, the Officers of the Navy, the proposals of the several bidders for the victualling of the Navy, for us to give our answer to, which is the best, and whether it be better to victual by commission or contract, and to bring them our answer by Friday afternoon, which is a great deal of work. So thence back with Sir J. Minnes home, and come after us Sir W. Penn and Lord Brouncker, and we fell to the business, and I late when they were gone to digest something of it, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up betimes and Sir D. Gawden with me, and I told him all, being very desirous for the King’s sake, as well as my own, that he may be kept in it, and after consulting him I to the Office, where we met again and spent most of the morning about this business, and no other, and so at noon home to dinner, and then close with Mr. Gibson till night, drawing up our answer, which I did the most part by seven at night, and so to Lord Brouncker and the rest at his lodgings to read it, and they approved of it. So back home to supper, and made my boy read to me awhile, and then to bed.
. Up, and Sir D. Gawden with me betimes to confer again about this business, and he gone I all the morning finishing our answer, which I did by noon, and so to dinner, and W. Batelier with me, who is lately come from Impington, beyond which I perceive he went not, whatever his pretence at first was; and so he tells me how well and merry all are there, and how nobly used by my cousin. He gone, after dinner I to work again, and Gibson having wrote our answer fair and got Brouncker and the rest to sign it, I by coach to Whitehall to the Committee of the Council, which met late, and Brouncker and J. Minnes with me, and there the Duke of York present (but not W. Coventry, who I perceive do wholly avoid to have to do publicly in this business, being shy of appearing in any Navy business, which I telling him the other day that I thought the King might suffer by it, he told me that the occasion is now so small that it cannot be fatal to the service, and for the present it is better for him not to appear, saying that it may fare the worse for his appearing in it as things are now governed), where our answer was read and debated, and some hot words between the Duke of York and Sir T. Clifford, the first for and the latter against Gawden, but the whole put off to tomorrow’s Council, for till the King goes out of town the next week the Council sits every day. So with the Duke of York and some others to his closet, and Alderman Backewell about a Committee of Tangier, and there did agree upon a price for pieces of eight at 4s. 6d. Present the Duke of York, Arlington, Berkeley, Sir J. Minnes, and myself. They gone, the Duke of York did tell me how hot Clifford is for Child, and for removing of old Officers, he saying plainly tonight, that though D. Gawden was a man that had done the best service that he believed any man, or any ten men, could have done, yet that it was for the King’s interest not to let it lie too long in one hand, lest nobody should be able to serve him but one. But the Duke of York did openly tell him that he was not for removing of old servants that have done well, neither in this place, nor in any other place, which is very nobly said. It being 7 or 8 at night, I home with Backewell by coach, and so walked to D. Gawden’s, but he not at home, and so back to my chamber, the boy to read to me, and so to supper and to bed.
. Could sleep but little last night, for my concernments in this business of the victualling for Sir D. Gawden, so up in the morning and he comes to me, and there I did tell him all, and give him my advice, and so he away, and I to the office, where we met and did a little business, and I left them and by water to attend the Council, which I did all the morning, but was not called in, but the Council meets again in the afternoon on purpose about it. So I at noon to Westminster Hall and there stayed a little, and at the Swan also, thinking to have got Doll Lane thither, but elle did not understand my signs; and so I away and walked to Charing Cross, and there into the great new Ordinary, by my Lord Mulgrave’s,4240 being led thither by Mr. Beale, one of Oliver’s, and now of the King’s Guards; and he sat with me while I had two grilled pigeons, very handsome and good meat: and there he and I talked of our old acquaintances, W. Clerke and others, he being a very civil man, and so walked to Westminster and there parted, and I to the Swan again, but did nothing, and so to Whitehall, and there attended the King and Council, who met and heard our answer. I present, and then withdrew; and they sent two hours at least afterwards about it, and at last rose; and to my great content, the Duke of York, at coming out, told me that it was carried for D. Gawden at 6d. 8d., and 8¾d.; but with great difficulty, I understand, both from him and others, so much that Sir Edward Walker told me that he prays to God he may never live to need to plead his merit, for D. Gawden’s sake; for that it hath stood him in no stead in this business at all, though both he and all the world that speaks of him, speaks of him as the most deserving man of any servant of the King’s in the whole nation, and so I think he is: but it is done, and my heart is glad at it. So I took coach and away, and in Holborne overtook D. Gawden’s coach, and stopped and went home, and Gibson to come after, and to my house, where D. Gawden did talk a little, and he do mightily acknowledge my kindness to him, and I know I have done the King and myself good service in it. So he gone, and myself in mighty great content in what is done, I to the office a little, and then home to supper, and the boy to read to me, and so to bed. This noon I went to my Lady Peterborough’s house, and talked with her about the money due to her Lord, and it gives me great trouble, her importunity and impertinency about it. This afternoon at Court I met with Lord Hinchingbroke, newly come out of the country, who tells me that Creed’s business4241 with Mrs. Pickering will do, which I am neither troubled nor glad at.
. Up, and to my office to finish my journal for five days past, and so abroad and walked to Whitehall, calling in at Somerset House Chapel, and also at the Spanish Embassador’s at York House, and there did hear a little masse: and so to Whitehall; and there the King being gone to Chapel, I to walk all the morning in the Park, where I met Mr. Wren; and he and I walked together in the Pell-Mell, it being most summer weather that ever was seen: and here talking of several things: of the corruption of the Court, and how unfit it is for ingenious men, and himself particularly, to live in it, where a man cannot live but he must spend, and cannot get suitably, without breach of his honour: and did thereupon tell me of the basest thing of my Lord Barkeley, one of the basest things that ever was heard of a man, which was this: how the Duke of York’s Commissioners do let his wine-licenses at a bad rate, and being offered a better, they did persuade the Duke of York to give some satisfaction to the former to quit it, and let it to the latter, which being done, my Lord Barkeley did make the bargain for the former to have £1,500 a-year to quit it; whereof, since, it is come to light that they were to have but £800 and himself £700, which the Duke of York hath ever since for some years paid, though this second bargain hath been broken, and the Duke of York lost by it, [half] of what the first was. He told me that there hath been a seeming accommodation between the Duke of York and the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Arlington, the two latter desiring it; but yet that there is not true agreement between them, but they do labour to bring in all new creatures into play, and the Duke of York do oppose it, as particularly in this of Sir D. Gawden. Thence, he gone, I to the Queen’s Chapel, and there heard some good singing; and so to Whitehall, and saw the King and Queen at dinner and thence with Sir Stephen Fox to dinner: and the Cofferer4242 with us; and there mighty kind usage, and good discourse. Thence spent all the afternoon walking in the Park, and then in the evening at Court, on the Queen’s side; and there met Mr. Godolphin,4243 who tells me that the news, is true we heard yesterday, of my Lord Sandwich’s being come to Mount’s Bay, in Cornwall, and so I heard this afternoon at Mrs. Pierce’s, whom I went to make a short visit to. This night, in the Queen’s drawing-room, my Lord Brouncker told me the difference that is now between the three Embassadors here, the Venetian,4244 French,4245 and Spaniard;4246 the third not being willing to make a visit to the first, because he would not receive him at the door; who is willing to give him as much respect as he did to the French, who was used no otherwise, and who refuses now to take more of him, upon being desired thereto, in order to the making an accommodation in this matter, which is very pretty. So a boat staying for me all this evening, I home in the dark about eight at night, and so over the ruins from the Old Swan home with great trouble, and so to hear my boy read a little, and supper and to bed. This evening I found at home Pelling and Wallington and one Aldrige, and we supped and sung.
. Up betimes, and Knepp’s maid comes to me, to tell me that the women’s day4247 at the playhouse is today, and that therefore I must be there, to increase their profit. I did give the pretty maid Betty4248 that comes to me half-a-crown for coming, and had a baiser or two—elle being mighty jolie. And so I about my business. By water to St. James’s, and there had good opportunity of speaking with the Duke of York, who desires me again, talking on that matter, to prepare something for him to do for the better managing of our Office, telling me that, my Lord Keeper and he talking about it yesterday, my Lord Keeper did advise him to do so, it being better to come from him than otherwise, which I have promised to do. Thence to my Lord Burlington’s house,4249 the first time I ever was there, it being the house built by Sir John Denham, next to Clarendon House; and here I visited my Lord Hinchingbroke and his lady; Mr. Sidney Montagu being come last night to town unexpectedly from Mount’s Bay, where he left my Lord well, eight days since, so as we may now hourly expect to hear of his arrival at Portsmouth. Sidney is mighty grown; and I am glad I am here to see him at his first coming, though it cost me dear, for here I come to be necessitated to supply them with £500 for my Lord.4250 He sent him up with a declaration to his friends, of the necessity of his being presently supplied with £2,000; but I do not think he will get one. However, I think it becomes my duty to my Lord to do something extraordinary in this, and the rather because I have been remiss in writing to him during this voyage, more than ever I did in my life, and more indeed than was fit for me. By and by comes Sir W. Godolphin to see Mr. Sidney, who, I perceive, is much dissatisfied that he should come to town last night, and not yet be with my Lord Arlington, who, and all the town, hear of his being come to town, and he did, it seems, take notice of it to Godolphin this morning: so that I perceive this remissness in affairs do continue in my Lord’s managements still, which I am sorry for; but, above all, to see in what a condition my Lord is for money, that I dare swear he do not know where to take up £500 of any man in England at this time, upon his word, but of myself, as I believe by the sequel hereof it will appear. Here I first saw and saluted my Lady Burlington,4251 a very fine-speaking lady, and a good woman, but old, and not handsome; but a brave woman in her parts. Here my Lady Hinchingbroke tells me that she hath bought most of the wedding-clothes for Mrs. Pickering, so that the thing4252 is gone through, and will soon be ended; which I wonder at, but let them do as they will. Here I also, standing by a candle that was brought for sealing of a letter, do set my periwig afire, which made such an odd noise, nobody could tell what it was till they saw the flame, my back being to the candle. Thence to Westminster Hall and there walked a little, and to the Exchequer, and so home by water, and after eating a bit I to my vintner’s, and there did only look upon su wife, which is mighty handsome; and so to my glove and ribbon shop, in Fenchurch Street, and did the like there. And there, stopping against the door of the shop, saw Mrs. Horsfall,4253 now a late widow, in a coach. I to her, and shook her by the hand, and so she away; and I by coach towards the King’s playhouse, and meeting W. Howe took him with me, and there saw The City Match;4254 not acted these thirty years, and but a silly play: the King and Court there; the house, for the women’s sake, mighty full. So I to Whitehall, and there all the evening on the Queen’s side; and it being a most summerlike day, and a fine warm evening, the Italians come in a barge under the leads, before the Queen’s drawing-room; and so the Queen and ladies went out, and heard them, for almost an hour: and it was indeed very good together; but yet there was but one voice that alone did appear considerable, and that was Seignor Joanni.4255 This done, by and by they went in; and here I saw Mr. Sidney Montagu kiss the Queen’s hand, who was mighty kind to him, and the ladies looked mightily on him; and the King come by and by, and did talk to him. So I away by coach with Alderman Backewell home, who is mighty kind to me, more than ordinary, in his expressions. But I do hear this day what troubles me, that Sir W. Coventry is quite out of play, the King seldom speaking to him; and that there is a design of making a Lord Treasurer, and that my Lord Arlington shall be the man; but I cannot believe it. But yet the Duke of Buckingham hath it in his mind, and those with him, to make a thorough alteration in things; and, among the rest, Coventry to be out. The Duke of York did this day tell me how hot the whole party was in the business of Gawden;4256 and particularly, my Lord Anglesey tells me, the Duke of Buckingham, for Child against Gawden; but the Duke of York did stand stoutly to it. So home to read and sup, and to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning.
October 1668
.4257 Up and to church, where I find Parson Mills come to town and preached, and the church full, most people being now come home to town, though the season of year is as good as summer in all respects. At noon dined at home with my wife, all alone, and busy all the afternoon in my closet, making up some papers with W. Hewer and at night comes Mr. Turner and his wife, and there they tell me that Mr. Harper4258 is dead at Deptford, and so now all his and my care is, how to secure his being Storekeeper in his stead; and here they and their daughter, and a kinswoman that come along with them, did sup with me, and pretty merry, and then, they gone, and my wife to read to me, and to bed.
. Up, and with Mr. Turner by water to Whitehall, there to think to enquire when the Duke of York will be in town, in order to Mr. Turner’s going down to Audley End,4259 about his place; and here I met in St. James’s Park with one that told us that the Duke of York would be in town tomorrow, and so Turner parted and went home, and I also did stop my intentions of going to the Court, also this day, about securing Mr. Turner’s place of Petty-purveyor to Mr. Hater. So I to my Lord Brouncker’s, thinking to have gone and spoke to him about it, but he is gone out to town till night, and so, meeting a gentleman of my Lord Middleton’s looking for me about the payment of the £1,000 lately ordered to his Lord, in advance of his pay, which shall arise upon his going Governor to Tangier, I did go to his Lord’s lodgings, and there spoke the first time with him, and find him a shrewd man, but a drinking man, I think, as the world says; but a man that hath seen much of the world, and is a Scot. I offered him my service, though I can do him little; but he sends his man home with me, where I made him stay, till I had gone to Sir W. Penn, to bespeak him about Mr. Hater, who, contrary to my fears, did appear very friendly, to my great content; for I was afraid of his appearing for his man Burroughs. But he did not; but did declare to me afterwards his intentions to desire an excuse in his own business, to be eased of the business of the Comptroller, his health not giving him power to stay always in town, but he must go into the country. I did say little to him but compliment, having no leisure to think of his business, or any man’s but my own, and so away and home, where I find Sir H. Cholmly come to town; and is come hither to see me: and he is a man that I love mightily, as being, of a gentleman, the most industrious that ever I saw. He stayed with me awhile talking, and telling me his obligations to my Lord Sandwich, which I was glad of; and that the Duke of Buckingham is now chief of all men in this kingdom, which I knew before; and that he do think the Parliament will hardly ever meet again; which is a great many men’s thoughts, and I shall not be sorry for it. He being gone, I with my Lord Middleton’s servant to Mr. Colvill’s, but he was not in town, and so he parted, and I home, and there to dinner, and Mr. Pelling with us; and thence my wife and Mercer, and W. Hewer and Deb., to the King’s playhouse, and I afterwards by water with them, and there we did hear the Eunuch (who, it seems, is a Frenchman, but long bred in Italy) sing, which I seemed to take as new to me, though I saw him on Saturday last, but said nothing of it; but such action and singing I could never have imagined to have heard, and do make good whatever Tom Hill used to tell me. Here we met with Mr. Batelier and his sister, and so they home with us in two coaches, and there at my house stayed and supped, and this night my bookseller Shrewsbury comes, and brings my books of Martyrs, and I did pay him for them, and did this night make the young women before supper to open all the volumes for me. So to supper, and after supper to read a ridiculous nonsensical book set out by Will. Penn,4260 for the Quakers; but so full of nothing but nonsense, that I was ashamed to read in it. So they gone, we to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and before the office did speak with my Lord Brouncker, and there did get his ready assent to T. Hater’s having of Mr. Turner’s place, and so Sir J. Minnes’s also: but when we come to sit down at the Board, comes to us Mr. Wren this day to town, and tells me that James Southern do petition the Duke of York for the Storekeeper’s place of Deptford, which did trouble me much, and also the Board, though, upon discourse, after he was gone, we did resolve to move hard for our Clerks, and that places of preferment may go according to seniority and merit. So, the Board up, I home with my people to dinner, and so to the office again, and there, after doing some business, I with Mr. Turner to the Duke of Albemarle’s at night; and there did speak to him about his appearing to Mr. Wren a friend to Mr. Turner, which he did take kindly from me; and so away thence, well pleased with what we had now done, and so I with him home, stopping at my Lord Brouncker’s, and getting his hand to a letter I wrote to the Duke of York for T. Hater, and also at my Lord Middleton’s, to give him an account of what I had done this day, with his man, at Alderman Backewell’s, about the getting of his £1,000 paid;4261 and here he did take occasion to discourse about the business of the Dutch war, which, he says, he was always an enemy to; and did discourse very well of it, I saying little, but pleased to hear him talk; and to see how some men may by age come to know much, and yet by their drinking and other pleasures render themselves not very considerable. I did this day find by discourse with somebody, that this nobleman was the great Major-General Middleton, that was of the Scots army, in the beginning of the late war against the King. Thence home and to the office to finish my letters, and so home and did get my wife to read to me, and then Deb. to comb my head. …
. Up, and by water, stopping at Michell’s, and there saw Betty, but could have no discourse with her, but there drank. To Whitehall, and there walked to St. James’s, where I find the Court mighty full, it being the Duke of York’s birthday; and he mighty fine, and all the music, one after another, to my great content. Here I met with Sir H. Cholmly; and he and I to walk, and to my Lord Barkeley’s new house,4262 there to see a new experiment of a cart, which, by having two little wheeles fastened to the axletree, is said to make it go with half the ease and more, than another cart but we did not see the trial made. Thence I home, and after dinner to St. James’s, and there met my brethren; but the Duke of York being gone out, and tonight being a play there, and a great festival, we would not stay, but went all of us to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Faythful Shepherdess again, that we might hear the French Eunuch sing, which we did, to our great content; though I do admire his action as much as his singing, being both beyond all I ever saw or heard. Thence with W. Penn home, and there to get my people to read, and to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and at home at dinner, where, after dinner, my wife and I and Deb. out by coach to the upholsters in Long Lane, Alderman Reeve’s, and then to Alderman Crow’s, to see variety of hangings, and were mightily pleased therewith, and spent the whole afternoon thereupon; and at last I think we shall pitch upon the best suit of Apostles, where three pieces for my room will come to almost £80: so home, and to my office, and then home to supper and to bed. This day at the Board comes unexpected the warrants from the Duke of York for Mr. Turner and Hater, for the places they desire, which contents me mightily.
. Up, and busy all the morning at the office, and before noon I took my wife by coach, and Deb., and showed her Mr. Wren’s hangings and bed, at St. James’s, and Sir W. Coventry’s in the Pell Mell, for our satisfaction in what we are going to buy; and so by Mr. Crow’s, home, about his hangings, and do pitch upon buying his second suit of Apostles—the whole suit, which comes to £83; and this we think the best for us, having now the whole suit, to answer any other rooms or service. So home to dinner, and with Mr. Hater by water to St. James’s: there Mr. Hater, to give Mr. Wren thanks for his kindness about his place that he hath lately granted him, of Petty Purveyor of petty emptions, upon the removal of Mr. Turner to be Storekeeper at Deptford, on the death of Harper. And then we all up to the Duke of York, and there did our usual business, and so I with J. Minnes home, and there finding my wife gone to my aunt Wight’s, to see her the first time after her coming to town, and indeed the first time, I think, these two years (we having been great strangers one to the other for a great while), I to them; and there mighty kindly used, and had a barrel of oysters, and so to look up and down their house, they having hung a room since I was there, but with hangings not fit to be seen with mine, which I find all come home tonight, and here staying an hour or two we home, and there to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting, and at noon home to dinner, and to the office all the afternoon, and then late home, and there with much pleasure getting Mr. Gibbs, that writes well, to write the name upon my new draught of The Resolution; and so set it up, and altered the situation of some of my pictures in my closet, to my extraordinary content, and at it with much pleasure till almost 12 at night. Mr. Moore and Seymour were with me this afternoon, who tell me that my Lord Sandwich was received mighty kindly by the King, and is in exceeding great esteem with him, and the rest about him; but I doubt it will be hard for him to please both the King and the Duke of York, which I shall be sorry for. Mr. Moore tells me the sad condition my Lord is in, in his estate and debts; and the way he now lives in, so high, and so many vain servants about him, that he must be ruined, if he do not take up, which, by the grace of God, I will put him upon, when I come to see him.
. Up, and with my boy Tom all the morning altering the places of my pictures with great pleasure, and at noon to dinner, and then comes Mr. Shales to see me, and I with him to recommend him to my Lord Brouncker’s service, which I did at Madam Williams’s, and my Lord receives him. Thence with Brouncker to Lincolne’s Inn, and Mr. Ball, to visit Dr. Wilkins, now newly Bishop of Chester: and he received us mighty kindly; and had most excellent discourse from him about his Book of Real Character:4263 and so I with Lord Brouncker to Whitehall, and there saw the Queen and some ladies, and with Lord Brouncker back, it again being a rainy evening, and so my Lord forced to lend me his coach till I got a hackney, which I did, and so home and to supper, and got my wife to read to me, and so to bed.
. Up, and to my office to set down my Journal for some days past, and so to other business. At the office all the morning upon some business of Sir W. Warren’s, and at noon home to dinner, and thence out by coach with my wife and Deb. and Mr. Harman, the upholster, and carried them to take measure of Mr. Wren’s bed at St. James’s, I being resolved to have just such another made me, and thence set him down in the Strand, and my wife and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse; and there saw, the first time acted, The Queen of Arragon,4264 an old Blackfriars play, but an admirable one, so good that I am astonished at it, and wonder where it hath lain asleep all this while, that I have never heard of it before. Here met W. Batelier and Mrs. Hunt, Deb.’s aunt; and saw her home—a very witty woman, and one that knows this play, and understands a play mighty well. Left her at home in Jewen Street, and we home, and to supper, and my wife to read to me, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, and then home to dinner, having this day a new girl come to us in the room of Nell, who is lately, about four days since, gone away, being grown lazy and proud. This girl to stay only till we have a boy, which I intend to keep when I have a coach, which I am now about. At this time my wife and I mighty busy laying out money in dressing up our best chamber, and thinking of a coach and coachman and horses, etc.; and the more because of Creed’s being now married to Mrs. Pickering; a thing I could never have expected, but it is done about seven or ten days since, as I hear out of the country. At noon home to dinner, and my wife and Harman and girl abroad to buy things, and I walked out to several places to pay debts, and among other things to look out for a coach, and saw many; and did light on one4265 for which I bid £50, which do please me mightily, and I believe I shall have it. So to my tailor’s, and the New Exchange, and so by coach home, and there, having this day bought The Queen of Arragon play, I did get my wife and W. Batelier to read it over this night by 11 o’clock, and so to bed.
. Lay pretty long talking with content with my wife about our coach and things, and so to the office, where Sir D. Gawden was to do something in his accounts. At noon to dinner to Mr. Batelier’s, his mother coming this day a-housewarming to him, and several friends of his, to which he invited us. Here mighty merry, and his mother the same; I heretofore took her for a gentlewoman, and understanding. I rose from table before the rest, because under an obligation to go to my Lord Brouncker’s, where to meet several gentlemen of the Royal Society, to go and make a visit to the French Embassador Colbert, at Leicester House,4266 he having endeavoured to make one or two to my Lord Brouncker, as our President, but he was not within, but I come too late, they being gone before: but I followed to Leicester House;4267 but they are gone in and up before me; and so I away to the New Exchange, and there stayed for my wife, and she come, we to Cow Lane, and there I showed her the coach which I pitch on, and she is out of herself for joy almost. But the man not within, so did nothing more towards an agreement, but to Mr. Crow’s about a bed, to have his advice, and so home, and there had my wife to read to me, and so to supper and to bed. Memorandum: that from Crow’s, we went back to Charing Cross, and there left my people at their tailor’s, while I to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, who come to town the last night, and is come thither to lie: and met with him within: and among others my new cousin Creed, who looks mighty soberly; and he and I saluted one another with mighty gravity, till we come to a little more freedom of talk about it. But here I hear that Sir Gilbert Pickering is lately dead, about three days since, which makes some sorrow there, though not much, because of his being long expected to die, having been in a lethargy long. So waited on my Lord to Court, and there stayed and saw the ladies awhile: and thence to my wife, and took them up; and so home, and to supper and bed.
. Up, and W. Batelier’s Frenchman, a periwig maker, comes and brings me a new one, which I liked and paid him for: a mighty genteel fellow. So to the office, where sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and thence with wife and Deb. to Crow’s, and there did see some more beds; and we shall, I think, pitch upon a camlet one, when all is done. Thence sent them home, and I to Arundell House, where the first time we4268 have met since the vacation, and not much company: but here much good discourse, and afterwards my Lord and others and I to the Devil tavern,4269 and there eat and drank, and so late, with Mr. Colwell, home by coach; and at home took him with me, and there found my uncle Wight and aunt, and Woolly and his wife, and there supped, and mighty merry. And anon they gone, and Mrs. Turner stayed, who was there also to talk of her husband’s business; and the truth is, I was the less pleased to talk with her, for that she hath not yet owned, in any fit manner of thanks, my late and principal service to her husband about his place, which I alone ought to have the thanks for, if they know as much as I do; but let it go: if they do not own it, I shall have it in my hand to teach them to do it. So to bed. This day word come for all the Principal Officers to bring them [the Commissioners of Accounts] their patents, which I did in the afternoon, by leaving it at their office, but am troubled at what should be their design therein.
. Up, and plasterers at work and painters about my house. Commissioner Middleton and I to St. James’s, where with the rest of our company we attended on our usual business the Duke of York. Thence I to Whitehall, to my Lord Sandwich’s, where I find my Lord within, but busy, private; and so I stayed a little talking with the young gentlemen: and so away with Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, towards Tyburne, to see the people executed; but come too late, it being done; two men and a woman hanged,4270 and so back again and to my coachmaker’s, and there did come a little nearer agreement for the coach, and so to Duck Lane, and there my bookseller’s, and saw his moher, but elle is so big-bellied that elle is not worth seeing. So home, and there all alone to dinner, my wife and W. Hewer being gone to Deptford to see her mother, and so I to the office all the afternoon. In the afternoon comes my cousin, Sidney Pickering,4271 to bring my wife and me his sister’s Favour for her wedding, which is kindly done, and he gone, I to business again, and in the evening home, made my wife read till supper time, and so to bed. This day Pierce do tell me, among other news, the late frolic and debauchery of Sir Charles Sidly and Buckhurst, running up and down all the night with their arses bare, through the streets; and at last fighting, and being beat by the watch and clapped up all night; and how the King takes their parts; and my Lord Chief Justice Keeling hath laid the constable by the heels4272 to answer it next Sessions: which is a horrid shame. How the King and these gentlemen did make the fiddlers of Thetford, this last progress, to sing them all the bawdy songs they could think of. How Sir W. Coventry was brought the other day to the Duchess of York by the Duke, to kiss her hand; who did acknowledge his unhappiness to occasion her so much sorrow, declaring his intentions in it, and praying her pardon; which she did give him upon his promise to make good his pretences of innocence to her family, by his faithfulness to his master, the Duke of York. That the Duke of Buckingham is now all in all, and will ruin Coventry, if he can: and that W. Coventry do now rest wholly upon the Duke of York for his standing, which is a great turn. He tells me that my Lady Castlemayne, however, is a mortal enemy to the Duke of Buckingham, which I understand not; but, it seems, she is disgusted with his greatness, and his ill usage of her. That the King was drunk at Saxam4273 with Sidly, Buckhurst, etc., the night that my Lord Arlington come thither, and would not give him audience, or could not which is true, for it was the night that I was there, and saw the King go up to his chamber, and was told that the King had been drinking. He tells me, too, that the Duke of York did the next day chide Bab. May for his occasioning the King’s giving himself up to these gentlemen, to the neglecting of my Lord Arlington: to which he answered merrily, that, by God, there was no man in England that had heads to lose, durst do what they do, every day, with the King, and asked the Duke of York’s pardon: which is a sign of a mad world. God bless us out of it!
. This morning comes to me the coachmaker,4274 and agreed with me for £53, and stand to the courtesy of what more I should give him upon the finishing of the coach:4275 he is likely also to fit me with a coachman. There comes also to me Mr. Shotgrave, the operator of our Royal Society, to show me his method of making the Tubes for the eyes, which are clouterly done, so that mine are better, but I have well informed myself in several things from him, and so am glad of speaking with him. So to the office, where all the morning, and then to dinner, and so all the afternoon late at the office, and so home; and my wife to read to me, and then with much content to bed. This day Lord Brouncker tells me that the making Sir J. Minnes a bare Commissioner4276 is now in doing, which I am glad of; but he speaks of two new Commissioners, which I do not believe.
. Up, and discoursing with my wife about our house and many new things we are doing of, and so to church I, and there find Jack Fenn come, and his wife, a pretty black woman: I never saw her before, nor took notice of her now. So home and to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon got my wife and boy to read to me, and at night W. Batelier comes and sups with us; and, after supper, to have my head combed by Deb., which occasioned the greatest sorrow to me that ever I knew in this world, for my wife, coming up suddenly, did find me embracing the girl. … I was at a wonderful loss upon it, and the girl also, and I endeavoured to put it off, but my wife was struck mute and grew angry, and so her voice come to her, grew quite out of order, and I to say little, but to bed, and my wife said little also, but could not sleep all night, but about two in the morning waked me and cried, and fell to tell me as a great secret that she was a Roman Catholic and had received the Holy Sacrament, which troubled me, but I took no notice of it, but she went on from one thing to another till at last it appeared plainly her trouble was at what she saw, but yet I did not know how much she saw, and therefore said nothing to her. But after her much crying and reproaching me with inconstancy and preferring a sorry girl before her, I did give her no provocation, but did promise all fair usage to her and love, and foreswore any hurt that I did with her, till at last she seemed to be at ease again, and so toward morning a little sleep, and so I with some little repose and rest …
… rose, and up and by water to Whitehall, but with my mind mightily troubled for the poor girl, whom I fear I have undone by this, my [wife] telling me that she would turn her out of doors. However, I was obliged to attend the Duke of York, thinking to have had a meeting of Tangier today, but had not; but he did take me and Mr. Wren into his closet, and there did press me to prepare what I had to say upon the answers of my fellow-officers to his great letter, which I promised to do against his coming to town again, the next week; and so to other discourse, finding plainly that he is in trouble, and apprehensions of the Reformers, and would be found to do what he can towards reforming, himself. And so thence to my Lord Sandwich’s, where, after long stay, he being in talk with others privately, I to him; and there he, taking physic and keeping his chamber, I had an hour’s talk with him about the ill posture of things at this time, while the King gives countenance to Sir Charles Sidly and Lord Buckhurst, telling him their late story of running up and down the streets a little while since all night, and their being beaten and clapped up all night by the constable, who is since chid and imprisoned for his pains. He tells me that he thinks his matters do stand well with the King, and hopes to have dispatch to his mind; but I doubt it, and do see that he do fear it, too. He told me my Lady Carteret’s trouble about my writing of that letter of the Duke of York’s lately to the Office, which I did not own, but declared to be of no injury to G. Carteret, and that I would write a letter to him to satisfy him therein. But this I am in pain how to do, without doing myself wrong, and the end I had, of preparing a justification to myself hereafter, when the faults of the Navy come to be found out however, I will do it in the best manner I can. Thence by coach home and to dinner, finding my wife mightily discontented, and the girl sad, and no words from my wife to her. So after dinner they out with me about two or three things, and so home again, I all the evening busy, and my wife full of trouble in her looks, and anon to bed, where about midnight she wakes me, and there falls foul of me again, affirming that she saw me hug and kiss the girl; the latter I denied, and truly, the other I confessed and no more, and upon her pressing me did offer to give her under my hand that I would never see Mrs. Pierce more nor Knepp, but did promise her particular demonstrations of my true love to her, owning some indiscretions in what I did, but that there was no harm in it. She at last upon these promises was quiet, and very kind we were, and so to sleep, and …
… in the morning up, but my mind troubled for the poor girl, with whom I could not get opportunity to speak, but to the office, my mind mighty full of sorrow for her, to the office, where all the morning, and to dinner with my people, and to the office all the afternoon, and so at night home, and there busy to get some things ready against tomorrow’s meeting of Tangier, and that being done, and my clerks gone, my wife did towards bedtime begin to be in a mighty rage from some new matter that she had got in her head, and did most part of the night in bed rant at me in most high terms of threats of publishing my shame, and when I offered to rise would have rose too, and caused a candle to be light to burn by her all night in the chimney while she ranted, while the knowing myself to have given some grounds for it, did make it my business to appease her all I could possibly, and by good words and fair promises did make her very quiet, and so rested all night, and rose with perfect good peace, being heartily afflicted for this folly of mine that did occasion it, but was forced to be silent about the girl, which I have no mind to part with, but much less that the poor girl should be undone by my folly. So up with mighty kindness from my wife and a thorough peace, and being up did by a note advise the girl what I had done and owned, which note I was in pain for till she told me she had burned it. This evening Mr. Spong come, and sat late with me, and first told me of the instrument called parallelogram,4277 which I must have one of, showing me his practice thereon, by a map of England.
. So by coach with Mr. Gibson to Chancery Lane, and there made oath before a Master of Chancery to the Tangier account of fees, and so to Whitehall, where, by and by, a Committee met, my Lord Sandwich there, but his report was not received, it being late; but only a little business done, about the supplying the place with victuals. But I did get, to my great content, my account allowed of fees, with great applause by my Lord Ashly and Sir W. Penn. Thence home, calling at one or two places; and there about our workmen, who are at work upon my wife’s closet, and other parts of my house, that we are all in dirt. So after dinner with Mr. Gibson all the afternoon in my closet, and at night to supper and to bed, my wife and I at good peace, but yet with some little grudgings of trouble in her and more in me about the poor girl.
. At the office all the morning, where Mr. Wren first tells us of the order from the King, came last night to the Duke of York, for signifying his pleasure to the Solicitor-General for drawing up a Commission for suspending of my Lord Anglesey,4278 and putting in Sir Thomas Littleton and Sir Thomas Osborne, the former a creature of Arlington’s, and the latter of the Duke of Buckingham’s, during the suspension.4279 The Duke of York was forced to obey, and did grant it, he being to go to Newmarket this day with the King, and so the King pressed for it. But Mr. Wren do own that the Duke of York is the most wounded in this, in the world, for it is done and concluded without his privity, after his appearing for Lord Anglesey, and that it is plain that they do aim to bring the Admiralty into Commission too, and lessen the Duke of York. This do put strange apprehensions into all our Board; only I think I am the least troubled at it, for I care not at all for it: but my Lord Brouncker and Penn do seem to think much of it. So home to dinner, full of this news, and after dinner to the office, and so home all the afternoon to do business towards my drawing up an account for the Duke of York of the answers of this office to his late great letter, and late at it, and so to bed, with great peace from my wife and quiet, I bless God.
. Up betimes; and Mr. Povy comes to even accounts with me, which we did, and then fell to other talk. He tells, in short, how the King is made a child of, by Buckingham and Arlington, to the lessening of the Duke of York, whom they cannot suffer to be great, for fear of my Lord Chancellor’s return, which, therefore, they make the King violent against. That he believes it is impossible these two great men can hold together long: or, at least, that the ambition of the former is so great, that he will endeavour to master all, and bring into play as many as he can. That Anglesey will not lose his place easily, but will contend in law with whoever comes to execute it. That the Duke of York, in all things but in his codpiece, is led by the nose by his wife. That W. Coventry is now, by the Duke of York, made friends with the Duchess; and that he is often there, and waits on her. That he do believe that these present great men will break in time, and that W. Coventry will be a great man again; for he do labour to have nothing to do in matters of the State, and is so useful to the side that he is on, that he will stand, though at present he is quite out of play. That my Lady Castlemayne hates the Duke of Buckingham. That the Duke of York hath expressed himself very kind to my Lord Sandwich, which I am mighty glad of. That we are to expect more changes if these men stand. This done, he and I to talk of my coach, and I got him to go see it, where he finds most infinite fault with it, both as to being out of fashion and heavy, with so good reason that I am mightily glad of his having corrected me in it; and so I do resolve to have one of his build, and with his advice, both in coach and horses, he being the fittest man in the world for it, and so he carried me home, and said the same to my wife. So I to the office and he away, and at noon I home to dinner, and all the afternoon late with Gibson at my chamber about my present great business, only a little in the afternoon at the office about Sir D. Gawden’s accounts, and so to bed and slept heartily, my wife and I at good peace, but my heart troubled and her mind not at ease, I perceive, she against and I for the girl, to whom I have not said anything these three days, but resolve to be mighty strange in appearance to her. This night W. Batelier come and took his leave of us, he setting out for France tomorrow.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner with my people, and afternoon to the office again, and then to my chamber with Gibson to do more about my great answer for the Duke of York, and so at night after supper to bed well pleased with my advance thereon. This day my Lord Anglesey was at the Office, and do seem to make nothing of this business of his suspension, resolving to bring it into the Council, where he seems not to doubt to have right, he standing upon his defence and patent, and hath put in his caveats to the several Offices: so, as soon as the King comes back again,4280 which will be on Tuesday next, he will bring it into the Council. So ends this month with some quiet to my mind, though not perfect, after the greatest falling out with my poor wife, and through my folly with the girl, that ever I had, and I have reason to be sorry and ashamed of it, and more to be troubled for the poor girl’s sake, whom I fear I shall by this means prove the ruin of, though I shall think myself concerned both to love and be a friend to her. This day Roger Pepys and his son Talbot, newly come to town, come and dined with me, and mighty glad I am to see them.
November 1668
. Up, and with W. Hewer at my chamber all this morning, going further in my great business for the Duke of York, and so at noon to dinner, and then W. Hewer to write fair what he had writ, and my wife to read to me all the afternoon, till anon Mr. Gibson come, and he and I to perfect it to my full mind, and so to supper and to bed, my mind yet at disquiet that I cannot be informed how poor Deb. stands with her mistress, but I fear she will put her away, and the truth is, though it be much against my mind and to my trouble, yet I think that it will be fit that she should be gone, for my wife’s peace and mine, for she cannot but be offended at the sight of her, my wife having conceived this jealousy of me with reason, and therefore for that, and other reasons of expense, it will be best for me to let her go, but I shall love and pity her. This noon Mr. Povy sent his coach for my wife and I to see, which we like mightily, and will endeavour to have him get us just such another.
. Up, and a cold morning, by water through bridge without a cloak, and there to Mr. Wren at his chamber at Whitehall, the first time of his coming thither this year, the Duchess coming thither tonight, and there he and I did read over my paper that I have with so much labour drawn up about the several answers of the officers of this Office to the Duke of York’s reflections, and did debate a little what advice to give the Duke of York when he comes to town upon it. Here come in Lord Anglesy, and I perceive he makes nothing of this order for his suspension, resolving to contend and to bring it to the Council on Wednesday when the King is come to town tomorrow, and Mr. Wren do join with him mightily in it, and do look upon the Duke of York as concerned more in it than he. So to visit Creed at his chamber, but his wife not come thither yet, nor do he tell me where she is, though she be in town, at Stepney, at Atkins’s.4281 So to Mr. Povy’s to talk about a coach, but there I find my Lord Sandwich, and Peterborough, and Hinchingbroke, Charles Harbord, and Sidney Montagu; and there I was stopped, and dined mighty nobly at a good table, with one little dish at a time upon it, but mighty merry. I was glad to see it: but sorry, methought, to see my Lord have so little reason to be merry, and yet glad, for his sake, to have him cheerful. After dinner up, and looked up and down the house, and so to the cellar; and thence I slipt away, without taking leave, and so to a few places about business, and among others to my bookseller’s in Duck Lane, and so home, where the house still full of dirt by painters and others, and will not be clean a good while. So to read and talk with my wife till by and by called to the office about Sir W. Warren’s business, where we met a little, and then home to supper and to bed. This day I went, by Mr. Povy’s direction, to a coachmaker near him,4282 for a coach just like his, but it was sold this very morning.
. Up, and all the morning at the Office. At noon to dinner, and then to the Office, and there busy till 12 at night, without much pain to my eyes, but I did not use them to read or write, and so did hold out very well. So home, and there to supper, and I observed my wife to eye my eyes whether I did ever look upon Deb., which I could not but do now and then (and to my grief did see the poor wretch look on me and see me look on her, and then let drop a tear or two, which do make my heart relent at this minute that I am writing this with great trouble of mind, for she is indeed my sacrifice, poor girl); and my wife did tell me in bed by the by of my looking on other people, and that the only way is to put things out of sight, and this I know she means by Deb., for she tells me that her Aunt was here on Monday, and she did tell her of her desire of parting with Deb., but in such kind terms on both sides that my wife is mightily taken with her. I see it will be, and it is but necessary, and therefore, though it cannot but grieve me, yet I must bring my mind to give way to it. We had a great deal of do this day at the Office about Clutterbucke4283 I declaring my dissent against the whole Board’s proceedings, and I believe I shall go near to show W. Penn a very knave in it, whatever I find my Lord Brouncker.
. Up, and by coach to Whitehall; and there I find the King and Duke of York come the last night, and everybody’s mouth full of my Lord Anglesey’s suspension being sealed; which it was, it seems, yesterday; so that he is prevented in his remedy at the Council; and, it seems, the two new4284 Treasurers did kiss the King’s hand this morning, brought in by my Lord Arlington. They walked up and down together the Court this day, and several people joyed them; but I avoided it, that I might not be seen to look either way. This day also I hear that my Lord Ormond is to be declared in Council no more Deputy Governor of Ireland, his commission being expired: and the King is prevailed with to take it out of his hands; which people do mightily admire, saying that he is the greatest subject of any prince in Christendome, and hath more acres of land than any, and hath done more for his Prince than ever any yet did. But all will not do; he must down, it seems, the Duke of Buckingham carrying all before him. But that, that troubles me most is, that they begin to talk that the Duke of York’s regiment is ordered to be disbanded; and more, that undoubtedly his Admiralty will follow: which do shake me mightily, and I fear will have ill consequences in the nation, for these counsels are very mad. The Duke of York do, by all men’s report, carry himself wonderful submissive to the King, in the most humble manner in the world; but yet, it seems, nothing must be spared that tends to the keeping out of the Chancellor; and that is the reason of all this. The great discourse now is, that the Parliament shall be dissolved and another called, which shall give the King the Deane and Chapter lands; and that will put him out of debt. And it is said that Buckingham do knownly meet daily with Wildman and other Commonwealth-men; and that when he is with them, he makes the King believe that he is with his wenches; and something looks like the Parliament’s being dissolved, by Harry Brouncker’s being now come back, and appears this day the first day at Whitehall; but hath not been yet with the King, but is secure that he shall be well received, I hear. God bless us, when such men as he shall be restored! But that, that pleases me most is, that several do tell me that Penn is to be removed; and others, that he hath resigned his place; and particularly Spragg tells me for certain that he hath resigned it, and is become a partner with Gawden in the Victualling: in which I think he hath done a very cunning thing; but I am sure I am glad of it; and it will be well for the King to have him out of this Office. Thence by coach, doing several errands, home and there to dinner, and then to the Office, where all the afternoon till late at night, and so home. Deb. hath been abroad today with her friends, poor girl, I believe toward the getting of a place. This day a boy is sent me out of the country from Impington by my cousin Roger Pepys’ getting, whom I visited this morning at his chamber in the Strand and carried him to Westminster Hall, where I took a turn or two with him and Sir John Talbot,4285 who talks mighty high for my Lord of Ormond: and I perceive this family of the Talbots hath been raised by my Lord. When I come home tonight I find Deb. not come home, and do doubt whether she be not quite gone or no, but my wife is silent to me in it, and I to her, but fell to other discourse, and indeed am well satisfied that my house will never be at peace between my wife and I unless I let her go, though it grieves me to the heart. My wife and I spent much time this evening talking of our being put out of the Office, and my going to live at Deptford at her brother’s, till I can clear my accounts, and rid my hands of the town, which will take me a year or more, and I do think it will be best for me to do so, in order to our living cheap, and out of sight.
. Up, and Willet come home in the morning, and, God forgive me! I could not conceal my content thereat by smiling, and my wife observed it, but I said nothing, nor she, but away to the office.4286 Presently up by water to Whitehall, and there all of us to wait on the Duke of York, which we did, having little to do, and then I up and down the house, till by and by the Duke of York, who had bid me stay, did come to his closet again, and there did call in me and Mr. Wren; and there my paper, that I have lately taken pains to draw up, was read, and the Duke of York pleased therewith; and we did all along conclude upon answers to my mind for the Board, and that that, if put in execution, will do the King’s business. But I do now more and more perceive the Duke of York’s trouble, and that he do lie under great weight of mind from the Duke of Buckingham’s carrying things against him; and particularly when I advised that he would use his interest that a seaman might come into the room of W. Penn, who is now declared to be gone from us to that of the Victualling, and did show how the Office would now be left without one seaman in it, but the Surveyour and the Controller, who is so old as to be able to do nothing, he told me plainly that I knew his mind well enough as to seamen, but that it must be as others will. And Wren did tell it me as a secret, that when the Duke of York did first tell the King about Sir W. Penn’s leaving of the place, and that when the Duke of York did move the King that either Captain Cox or Sir Jer. Smith might succeed him, the King did tell him that that was a matter fit to be considered of, and would not agree to either presently; and so the Duke of York could not prevail for either, nor knows who it shall be. The Duke of York did tell me himself, that if he had not carried it privately when first he mentioned Penn’s leaving his place to the King, it had not been done; for the Duke of Buckingham and those of his party do cry out upon it, as a strange thing to trust such a thing into the hands of one that stands accused in Parliament: and that they have so far prevailed upon the King that he would not have him named in Council, but only take his name to the Board; but I think he said that only D. Gawden’s name shall go in the patent; at least, at the time when Sir Richard Browne4287 asked the King the names of D. Gawden’s security, the King told him it was not yet necessary for him to declare them. And by and by, when the Duke of York and we had done, and Wren brought into the closet Captain Cox and James Temple about business of the Guiney Company, and talking something of the Duke of Buckingham’s concernment therein, and says the Duke of York, “I will give the Devil his due, as they say the Duke of Buckingham hath paid in his money to the Company,” or something of that kind, wherein he would do right to him. The Duke of York told me how these people do begin to cast dirt upon the business that passed the Council lately, touching Supernumeraries, as passed by virtue of his authority there, there being not liberty for any man to withstand what the Duke of York advises there; which, he told me, they bring only as an argument to insinuate the putting of the Admiralty into Commission, which by all men’s discourse is now designed, and I perceive the same by him. This being done, and going from him, I up and down the house to hear news: and there everybody’s mouth full of changes; and, among others, the Duke of York’s regiment of Guards, that was raised during the late war at sea, is to be disbanded: and also, that this day the King do intend to declare that the Duke of Ormond is no more Deputy of Ireland, but that he will put it into Commission. This day our new Treasurers did kiss the King’s hand, who complimented them, as they say, very highly, that he had for a long time been abused in his Treasurer, and that he was now safe in their hands. I saw them walk up and down the Court together all this morning; the first time I ever saw Osborne, who is a comely gentleman. This day I was told that my Lord Anglesey did deliver a petition on Wednesday in Council to the King, laying open, that whereas he had heard that his Majesty had made such a disposal of his place, which he had formerly granted him for life upon a valuable consideration, and that, without anything laid to his charge, and during a Parliament’s sessions, he prayed that his Majesty would be pleased to let his case be heard before the Council and the judges of the land, who were his proper counsel in all matters of right: to which, I am told, the King, after my Lord’s being withdrawn, concluded upon his giving him an answer some few days hence; and so he was called in, and told so, and so it ended. Having heard all this I took coach and to Mr. Povy’s, where I hear he is gone to the Swedes Resident in Covent Garden, where he is to dine. I went thither, but he is not come yet, so I to Whitehall to look for him, and up and down walking there I met with Sir Robert Holmes, who asking news I told him of Sir W. Penn’s going from us, who ketched at it so as that my heart misgives me that he will have a mind to it, which made me heartily sorry for my words, but he invited me and would have me go to dine with him at the Treasurer’s, Sir Thomas Clifford, where I did go and eat some oysters; which while we were at, in comes my Lord Keeper4288 and much company; and so I thought it best to withdraw. And so away, and to the Swedes Agent’s,4289 and there met Mr. Povy; where the Agent would have me stay and dine, there being only them, and Joseph Williamson, and Sir Thomas Clayton;4290 but what he is I know not. Here much extraordinary noble discourse of foreign princes, and particularly the greatness of the King of France, and of his being fallen into the right way of making the kingdom great, which [none] of his ancestors ever did before. I was mightily pleased with this company and their discourse, so as to have been seldom so much in all my life, and so after dinner up into his upper room, and there did see a piece of perspective, but much inferior to Mr. Povy’s. Thence with Mr. Povy spent all the afternoon going up and down among the coachmakers in Cow Lane, and did see several, and at last did pitch upon a little chariot, whose body was framed, but not covered, at the widow’s, that made Mr. Lowther’s fine coach; and we are mightily pleased with it, it being light, and will be very genteel and sober: to be covered with leather, and yet will hold four. Being much satisfied with this, I carried him to Whitehall; and so by coach home, where give my wife a good account of my day’s work, and so to the office, and there late, and so to bed.
. Up, and presently my wife up with me, which she professedly now do every day to dress me, that I may not see Willet, and do eye me, whether I cast my eye upon her, or no; and do keep me from going into the room where she is among the upholsters at work in our blue chamber. So abroad to Whitehall by water, and so on for all this day as I have by mistake set down in the fifth day after this mark.4291 In the room of which I should have said that I was at the office all the morning, and so to dinner, my wife with me, but so as I durst not look upon the girl, though, God knows, notwithstanding all my protestations I could not keep my mind from desiring it. After dinner to the office again, and there did some business, and then by coach to see Roger Pepys at his lodgings, next door to Arundell House, a barber’s; and there I did see a book, which my Lord Sandwich hath promised one to me of, A Description of the Escuriall in Spain;4292 which I have a great desire to have, though I took it for a finer book when he promised it me. With him to see my cousin Turner and The., and there sat and talked, they being newly come out of the country; and here pretty merry, and with The. to show her a coach at Mr. Povy’s man’s, she being in want of one, and so back again with her, and then home by coach, with my mind troubled and finding no content, my wife being still troubled, nor can be at peace while the girl is there, which I am troubled at on the other side. We past the evening together, and then to bed and slept ill, she being troubled and troubling me in the night with talk and complaints upon the old business. This is the day’s work of the 5th, though it stands under the 6th, my mind being now so troubled that it is no wonder that I fall into this mistake more than ever I did in my life before.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, and so to it again after dinner, and there busy late, choosing to employ myself rather than go home to trouble with my wife, whom, however, I am forced to comply with, and indeed I do pity her as having cause enough for her grief. So to bed, and there slept ill because of my wife. This afternoon I did go out towards Sir D. Gawden’s, thinking to have bespoke a place for my coach and horses, when I have them, at the Victualling Office; but find the way so bad and long that I returned, and looked up and down for places elsewhere, in an inne, which I hope to get with more convenience than there.
. Up, and at my chamber all the morning, setting papers to rights, with my boy; and so to dinner at noon. The girl with us, but my wife troubled thereat to see her, and do tell me so, which troubles me, for I love the girl. At my chamber again to work all the afternoon till night, when Pelling comes, who wonders to find my wife so dull and melancholy, but God knows she hath too much cause. However, as pleasant as we can, we supped together, and so made the boy read to me, the poor girl not appearing at supper, but hid herself in her chamber. So that I could wish in that respect that she was out of the house, for our peace is broke to all of us while she is here, and so to bed, where my wife mighty unquiet all night, so as my bed is become burdensome to me.
. Up, and I did by a little note which I flung to Deb. advise her that I did continue to deny that ever I kissed her, and so she might govern herself. The truth is that I did adventure upon God’s pardoning me this lie, knowing how heavy a thing it would be for me to the ruin of the poor girl, and next knowing that if my wife should know all it were impossible ever for her to be at peace with me again, and so our whole lives would be uncomfortable. The girl read, and as I bid her returned me the note, flinging it to me in passing by. And so I abroad by [coach] to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York to wait on him, who told me that Sir W. Penn had been with him this morning, to ask whether it would be fit for him to sit at the Office now, because of his resolution to be gone, and to become concerned in the Victualling. The Duke of York answered, “Yes, till his contract was signed.” Thence I to Lord Sandwich’s, and there to see him; but was made to stay so long, as his best friends are, and when I come to him so little pleasure, his head being full of his own business, I think, that I have no pleasure [to] go to him. Thence to Whitehall with him, to the Committee of Tangier; a day appointed for him to give an account of Tangier, and what he did, and found there, which, though he had admirable matter for it, and his doings there were good, and would have afforded a noble account, yet he did it with a mind so low and mean, and delivered in so poor a manner, that it appeared nothing at all, nor anybody seemed to value it; whereas, he might have shown himself to have merited extraordinary thanks, and been held to have done a very great service: whereas now, all that cost the King hath been at for his journey through Spain thither, seems to be almost lost. After we were up, Creed and I walked together, and did talk a good while of the weak report my Lord made, and were troubled for it; I fearing that either his mind and judgment are depressed, or that he do it out of his great neglect, and so my fear that he do all the rest of his affairs accordingly. So I stayed about the Court a little while, and then to look for a dinner, and had it at Hercules-Pillars, very late, all alone, costing me 10d. And so to the Excise Office, thinking to meet Sir Stephen Fox and the Cofferer, but the former was gone, and the latter I met going out, but nothing done, and so I to my bookseller’s, and also to Crow’s, and there saw a piece of my bed, and I find it will please us mightily. So home, and there find my wife troubled, and I sat with her talking, and so to bed, and there very unquiet all night.
. Up, and my wife still every day as ill as she is all night, will rise to see me out doors, telling me plainly that she dares not let me see the girl, and so I out to the office, where all the morning, and so home to dinner, where I found my wife mightily troubled again, more than ever, and she tells me that it is from her examining the girl and getting a confession now from her of all … which do mightily trouble me, as not being able to foresee the consequences of it, as to our future peace together. So my wife would not go down to dinner, but I would dine in her chamber with her, and there after mollifying her as much as I could we were pretty quiet and eat, and by and by comes Mr. Hollier, and dines there by himself after we had dined, and he being gone, we to talk again, and she to be troubled, reproaching me with my unkindness and perjury, I having denied my ever kissing her. As also with all her old kindnesses to me, and my ill-using of her from the beginning, and the many temptations she hath refused out of faithfulness to me, whereof several she was particular in, and especially from my Lord Sandwich, by the solicitation of Captain Ferrers, and then afterward the courtship of my Lord Hinchingbrooke, even to the trouble of his lady. All which I did acknowledge and was troubled for, and wept, and at last pretty good friends again, and so I to my office, and there late, and so home to supper with her, and so to bed, where after half-an-hour’s slumber she wakes me and cries out that she should never sleep more, and so kept raving till past midnight, that made me cry and weep heartily all the while for her, and troubled for what she reproached me with as before, and at last with new vows, and particularly that I would myself bid the girl be gone, and show my dislike to her, which I will endeavour to perform, but with much trouble, and so this appeasing her, we to sleep as well as we could till morning.
. Up, and my wife with me as before, and so to the Office, where, by a speciall desire, the new Treasurers come, and there did show their Patent, and the Great Seal for the suspension of my Lord Anglesey: and here did sit and discourse of the business of the Office: and brought Mr. Hutchinson with them, who, I hear, is to be their Paymaster, in the room of Mr. Waith.4293 For it seems they do turn out every servant that belongs to the present Treasurer: and so for Fenn, do bring in Mr. Littleton, Sir Thomas’s brother, and oust all the rest. But Mr. Hutchinson do already see that his work now will be another kind of thing than before, as to the trouble of it. They gone, and, indeed, they appear, both of them, very intelligent men, I home to dinner, and there with my people dined, and so to my wife, who would not dine with [me] that she might not have the girl come in sight, and there sat and talked a while with her and pretty quiet, I giving no occasion of offence, and so to the office4294 [and then by coach to my cousin Roger Pepys, who did, at my last being with him this day sennight, move me as to the supplying him with £500 this term, and £500 the next, for two years, upon a mortgage, he having that sum to pay, a debt left him by his father, which I did agree to, trusting to his honesty and ability, and am resolved to do it for him, that I may not have all I have lie in the King’s hands. Having promised him this I returned home again, where to the office], and there having done, I home and to supper and to bed, where, after lying a little while, my wife starts up, and with expressions of affright and madness, as one frantick, would rise, and I would not let her, but burst out in tears myself, and so continued almost half the night, the moon shining so that it was light, and after much sorrow and reproaches and little ravings (though I am apt to think they were counterfeit from her), and my promise again to discharge the girl myself, all was quiet again, and so to sleep.
. Up, and she with me as heretofore, and so I to the Office, where all the morning, and at noon to dinner, and Mr. Wayth, who, being at my office about business, I took him with me to talk and understand his matters, who is in mighty trouble from the Committee of Accounts about his contracting with this Office for sailcloth, but no hurt can be laid at his door in it, but upon us for doing it, if any, though we did it by the Duke of York’s approval, and by him I understand that the new Treasurers do intend to bring in all new Instruments, and so having dined we parted, and I to my wife and to sit with her a little, and then called her and Willet to my chamber, and there did, with tears in my eyes, which I could not help, discharge her and advise her to be gone as soon as she could, and never to see me, or let me see her more while she was in the house, which she took with tears too, but I believe understands me to be her friend, and I am apt to believe by what my wife hath of late told me is a cunning girl, if not a slut. Thence, parting kindly with my wife, I away by coach to my cousin Roger, according as by mistake (which the trouble of my mind for some days has occasioned, in this and another case a day or two before) is set down in yesterday’s notes, and so back again, and with Mr. Gibson late at my chamber making an end of my draught of a letter for the Duke of York, in answer to the answers of this Office, which I have now done to my mind, so as, if the Duke likes it, will, I think, put an end to a great deal of the faults of this Office, as well as my trouble for them. So to bed, and did lie now a little better than formerly, but with little, and yet with some trouble.
. Up, and with Sir W. Penn by coach to Whitehall, where to the Duke of York, and there did our usual business; and thence I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, where I stayed, and heard an excellent case argued between my Lord Gerard and the Town of Newcastle, about a piece of ground which that Lord hath got a grant of, under the Exchequer Seal, which they were endeavouring to get of the King under the Great Seal. I liked mightily the Counsel for the town, Shaftow,4295 their Recorder, and Mr. Offly.4296 But I was troubled, and so were the Lords, to hear my Lord fly out against their4297 great pretence of merit from the King, for their sufferings and loyalty; telling them that they might thank him for that repute which they have for their loyalty, for that it was he that forced them to be so, against their wills, when he was there: and, moreover, did offer a paper to the Lords to read from the Town, sent in 1648; but the Lords would not read it; but I believe it was something about bringing the King to trial, or some such thing, in that year. Thence I to the Three Tuns Tavern, by Charing Cross, and there dined with W. Penn, Sir J. Minnes, and Commissioner Middleton; and as merry as my mind could be, that hath so much trouble upon it at home. And thence to Whitehall, and there stayed in Mr. Wren’s chamber with him, reading over my draught of a letter, which Mr. Gibson then attended me with; and there he did like all, but doubted whether it would be necessary for the Duke to write in so sharp a style to the Office, as I had drawn it in; which I yield to him, to consider the present posture of the times and the Duke of York and whether it were not better to err on that hand than the other. He told me that he did not think it was necessary for the Duke of York to do so, and that it would not suit so well with his nature nor greatness; which last, perhaps, is true, but then do too truly show the effects of having Princes in places, where order and discipline should be. I left it to him to do as the Duke of York pleases; and so fell to other talk, and with great freedom, of public things; and he told me, upon my several inquiries to that purpose, that he did believe it was not yet resolved whether the Parliament should ever meet more or no, the three great rulers of things now standing thus:—The Duke of Buckingham is absolutely against their meeting, as moved thereto by his people that he advises with, the people of the late times, who do never expect to have anything done by this Parliament for their religion, and who do propose that, by the sale of the Church-lands, they shall be able to put the King out of debt: my Lord Keeper is utterly against putting away this and choosing another Parliament, lest they prove worse than this, and will make all the King’s friends, and the King himself, in a desperate condition: my Lord Arlington know not which is best for him, being to seek whether this or the next will use him worst. He tells me that he believes that it is intended to call this Parliament, and try them with a sum of money; and, if they do not like it, then to send them going, and call another, who will, at the ruin of the Church perhaps, please the King with what he will for a time. And he tells me, therefore, that he do believe that this policy will be endeavoured by the Church and their friends—to seem to promise the King money, when it shall be propounded, but make the King and these great men buy it dear, before they have it. He tells me that he is really persuaded that the design of the Duke of Buckingham is, by bringing the state into such a condition as, if the King do die without issue, it shall, upon his death, break into pieces again; and so put by the Duke of York, who they have disobliged, they know, to that degree, as to despair of his pardon. He tells me that there is no way to rule the King but by briskness, which the Duke of Buckingham hath above all men; and that the Duke of York having it not, his best way is what he practices, that is to say, a good temper, which will support him till the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Arlington fall out, which cannot be long first, the former knowing that the latter did, in the time of the Chancellor, endeavour with the Chancellor to hang him at that time, when he was proclaimed against. And here, by the by, he told me that the Duke of Buckingham did, by his friends, treat with my Lord Chancellor, by the mediation of Matt. Wren and Matt. Clifford,4298 to fall in with my Lord Chancellor; which, he tells me, he did advise my Lord Chancellor to accept of, as that, that with his own interest and the Duke of York’s, would undoubtedly have assured all to him and his family; but that my Lord Chancellor was a man not to be advised, thinking himself too high to be counselled: and so all is come to nothing; for by that means the Duke of Buckingham became desperate, and was forced to fall in with Arlington, to his [the Chancellor’s] ruin. Thence I home, and there to talk, with great pleasure all the evening, with my wife, who tells me that Deb. has been abroad today, and is come home and says she has got a place to go to, so as she will be gone tomorrow morning. This troubled me, and the truth is, I have a good mind to have the maidenhead of this girl, which I should not doubt to have if je could get time para be con her. But she will be gone and I not know whither. Before we went to bed my wife told me she would not have me to see her or give her her wages, and so I did give my wife £10 for her year and half a quarter’s wages, which she went into her chamber and paid her, and so to bed, and there, blessed be God! we did sleep well and with peace, which I had not done in now almost twenty nights together. This afternoon I went to my coachmaker and Crow’s, and there saw things go on to my great content. This morning, at the Treasury-chamber, I did meet Jack Fenn, and there he did show me my Lord Anglesey’s petition and the King’s answer: the former good and stout, as I before did hear it: but the latter short and weak, saying that he was not, by what the King had done, hindered from taking the benefit of his laws, and that the reason he had to suspect his mismanagement of his money in Ireland, did make him think it unfit to trust him with his Treasury in England, till he was satisfied in the former.
. Up, and had a mighty mind to have seen or given her a little money, to which purpose I wrapped up 40s. in paper, thinking to have given her a little money, but my wife rose presently, and would not let me be out of her sight, and went down before me into the kitchen, and come up and told me that she was in the kitchen, and therefore would have me go round the other way; which she repeating and I vexed at it, answered her a little angrily, upon which she instantly flew out into a rage, calling me dog and rogue, and that I had a rotten heart; all which, knowing that I deserved it, I bore with, and word being brought presently up that she was gone away by coach with her things, my wife was friends, and so all quiet, and I to the Office, with my heart sad, and find that I cannot forget the girl, and vexed I know not where to look for her. And more troubled to see how my wife is by this means likely forever to have her hand over me, that I shall forever be a slave to her—that is to say, only in matters of pleasure, but in other things she will make [it] her business, I know, to please me and to keep me right to her, which I will labour to be indeed, for she deserves it of me, though it will be I fear a little time before I shall be able to wear Deb. out of my mind. At the Office all the morning, and merry at noon, at dinner; and after dinner to the Office, where all the afternoon, doing much business, late. My mind being free of all troubles, I thank God, but only for my thoughts of this girl, which hang after her. And so at night home to supper, and then did sleep with great content with my wife. I must here remember that I have lain with my moher as a husband more times since this falling out than in I believe twelve months before. And with more pleasure to her than I think in all the time of our marriage before.
. Up, and after long lying with pleasure talking with my wife, and then up to look up and down our house, which will when our upholster hath done be mighty fine, and so to my chamber, and there did do several things among my papers, and so to the office to write down my journal for 6 or 7 days, my mind having been so troubled as never to get the time to do it before, as may appear a little by the mistakes I have made in this book within these few days. At noon comes Mr. Shepley to dine with me and W. Howe, and there dined and pretty merry, and so after dinner W. Howe to tell me what hath happened between him and the Commissioners of late, who are hot again, more than ever, about my Lord Sandwich’s business of prizes, which I am troubled for, and the more because of the great security and neglect with which, I think, my Lord do look upon this matter, that may yet, for aught I know, undo him. They gone, and Balty being come from the Downs, not very well, is come this day to see us, I to talk with him, and with some pleasure, hoping that he will make a good man. I in the evening to my Office again, to make an end of my journal, and so home to my chamber with W. Hewer to settle some papers, and so to supper and to bed, with my mind pretty quiet, and less troubled about Deb. than I was, though yet I am troubled, I must confess, and would be glad to find her out, though I fear it would be my ruin. This evening there come to sit with us Mr. Pelling, who wondered to see my wife and I so dumpish, but yet it went off only as my wife’s not being well, and, poor wretch, she hath no cause to be well, God knows.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there at the robe chamber at a Committee for Tangier, where some of us—my Lord Sandwich, Sir W. Coventry, and myself, with another or two—met to debate the business of the Mole, and there drew up reasons for the King’s taking of it into his own hands, and managing of it upon accounts with Sir H. Cholmley. This being done I away to Holborne, about Whetstone’s4299 Park, where I never was in my life before, where I understand by my wife’s discourse that Deb. is gone, which do trouble me mightily that the poor girl should be in a desperate condition forced to go thereabouts, and there not hearing of any such man as Allbon, with whom my wife said she now was, I to the Strand, and there by sending Drumbleby’s boy, my flageolet maker, to Eagle Court, where my wife also by discourse lately let fall that he did lately live, I find that this Dr. Allbon is a kind of poor broken fellow that dare not show his head nor be known where he is gone, but to Lincoln’s Inn Fields I went to Mr. Povy’s, but missed him, and so hearing only that this Allbon is gone to Fleet Street, I did only call at Martin’s, my bookseller’s, and there bought Cassandra,4300 and some other French books for my wife’s closet, and so home, having eat nothing but two pennyworths of oysters, opened for me by a woman in the Strand, while the boy went to and again to inform me about this man, and therefore home and to dinner, and so all the afternoon at the office, and there late busy, and so home to supper, and pretty pleasant with my wife to bed, rested pretty well.
. Up, and to the Office all the morning, where the new Treasurers come, their second time, and before they sat down, did discourse with the Board, and particularly my Lord Brouncker, about their place,4301 which they challenge, as having been heretofore due, and given to their predecessor; which, at last, my Lord did own hath been given him only out of courtesy to his quality, and that he did not take it as a right at the Board: so they, for the present, sat down, and did give him the place, but, I think, with an intent to have the Duke of York’s directions about it. My wife and maids busy now, to make clean the house above stairs, the upholsters having done there, in her closet and the blue room, and they are mighty pretty. At my office all the afternoon and at night busy, and so home to my wife, and pretty pleasant, and at mighty ease in my mind, being in hopes to find Deb., and without trouble or the knowledge of my wife. So to supper at night and to bed.
. Lay long in bed talking with my wife, she being unwilling to have me go abroad, saying and declaring herself jealous of my going out for fear of my going to Deb., which I do deny, for which God forgive me, for I was no sooner out about noon but I did go by coach directly to Somerset House, and there enquired among the porters there for Dr. Allbun, and the first I spoke with told me he knew him, and that he was newly gone into Lincoln’s Inn Fields, but whither he could not tell me, but that one of his fellows not then in the way did carry a chest of drawers thither with him, and that when he comes he would ask him. This put me into some hopes, and I to Whitehall, and thence to Mr. Povy’s, but he at dinner, and therefore I away and walked up and down the Strand between the two turnstiles, hoping to see her out of a window, and then employed a porter, one Osberton, to find out this Doctor’s lodgings thereabouts, who by appointment comes to me to Hercules Pillars, where I dined alone, but tells me that he cannot find out any such, but will enquire further. Thence back to Whitehall to the Treasury a while, and thence to the Strand, and towards night did meet with the porter that carried the chest of drawers with this Doctor, but he would not tell me where he lived, being his good master, he told me, but if I would have a message to him he would deliver it. At last I told him my business was not with him, but a little gentlewoman, one Mrs. Willet, that is with him, and sent him to see how she did from her friend in London, and no other token. He goes while I walk in Somerset House, walk there in the Court; at last he comes back and tells me she is well, and that I may see her if I will, but no more. So I could not be commanded by my reason, but I must go this very night, and so by coach, it being now dark, I to her, close by my tailor’s, and she come into the coach to me, and je did baiser her. … I did nevertheless give her the best council I could, to have a care of her honour, and to fear God, and suffer no man para avoir to do con her as je have done, which she promised. Je did give her 20s. and directions para laisser sealed in paper at any time the name of the place of her being at Herringman’s, my bookseller in the ’Change, by which I might go para her, and so bid her good night with much content to my mind, and resolution to look after her no more till I heard from her. And so home, and there told my wife a fair tale, God knows, how I spent the whole day, with which the poor wretch was satisfied, or at least seemed so, and so to supper and to bed, she having been mighty busy all day in getting of her house in order against tomorrow to hang up our new hangings and furnishing our best chamber.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning, with my heart full of joy to think in what a safe condition all my matters now stand between my wife and Deb. and me, and at noon running upstairs to see the upholsters, who are at work upon hanging my best room, and setting up my new bed, I find my wife sitting sad in the dining room; which enquiring into the reason of, she begun to call me all the false, rotten-hearted rogues in the world, letting me understand that I was with Deb. yesterday, which, thinking it impossible for her ever to understand, I did a while deny, but at last did, for the ease of my mind and hers, and forever to discharge my heart of this wicked business, I did confess all, and above stairs in our bed chamber there I did endure the sorrow of her threats and vows and curses all the afternoon, and, what was worse, she swore by all that was good that she would slit the nose of this girl, and be gone herself this very night from me, and did there demand 3 or £400 of me to buy my peace, that she might be gone without making any noise, or else protested that she would make all the world know of it. So with most perfect confusion of face and heart, and sorrow and shame, in the greatest agony in the world I did pass this afternoon, fearing that it will never have an end; but at last I did call for W. Hewer, who I was forced to make privy now to all, and the poor fellow did cry like a child, [and] obtained what I could not, that she would be pacified upon condition that I would give it under my hand never to see or speak with Deb. while I live, as I did before with Pierce and Knepp, and which I did also, God knows, promise for Deb. too, but I have the confidence to deny it to the perjury of myself. So, before it was late, there was, beyond my hopes as well as desert, a durable peace; and so to supper, and pretty kind words, and to bed, and there je did hazer con elle to her content, and so with some rest spent the night in bed, being most absolutely resolved, if ever I can master this bout, never to give her occasion while I live of more trouble of this or any other kind, there being no curse in the world so great as this of the differences between myself and her, and therefore I do, by the grace of God, promise never to offend her more, and did this night begin to pray to God upon my knees alone in my chamber, which God knows I cannot yet do heartily; but I hope God will give me the grace more and more every day to fear Him, and to be true to my poor wife. This night the upholsters did finish the hanging of my best chamber, but my sorrow and trouble is so great about this business, that it puts me out of all joy in looking upon it or minding how it was.
. This morning up, with mighty kind words between my poor wife and I; and so to Whitehall by water, W. Hewer with me, who is to go with me everywhere, until my wife be in condition to go out along with me herself; for she do plainly declare that she dares not trust me out alone, and therefore made it a piece of our league that I should alway take somebody with me, or her herself, which I am mighty willing to, being, by the grace of God, resolved never to do her wrong more. We landed at the Temple, and there I bid him call at my cousin Roger Pepys’s lodgings, and I stayed in the street for him, and so took water again at the Strand stairs; and so to Whitehall, in my way I telling him plainly and truly my resolutions, if I can get over this evil, never to give new occasion for it. He is, I think, so honest and true a servant to us both, and one that loves us, that I was not much troubled at his being privy to all this, but rejoiced in my heart that I had him to assist in the making us friends, which he did truly and heartily, and with good success, for I did get him to go to Deb. to tell her that I had told my wife all of my being with her the other night, that so if my wife should send she might not make the business worse by denying it. While I was at Whitehall with the Duke of York, doing our ordinary business with him, here being also the first time the new Treasurers. W. Hewer did go to her and come back again, and so I took him into St. James’s Park, and there he did tell me he had been with her, and found what I said about my manner of being with her true, and had given her advice as I desired. I did there enter into more talk about my wife and myself, and he did give me great assurance of several particular cases to which my wife had from time to time made him privy of her loyalty and truth to me after many and great temptations, and I believe them truly. I did also discourse the unfitness of my leaving of my employment now in many respects to go into the country, as my wife desires, but that I would labour to fit myself for it, which he thoroughly understands, and do agree with me in it; and so, hoping to get over this trouble, we about our business to Westminster Hall to meet Roger Pepys, which I did, and did there discourse of the business of lending him £500 to answer some occasions of his, which I believe to be safe enough, and so took leave of him and away by coach home, calling on my coachmaker by the way, where I like my little coach mightily. But when I come home, hoping for a further degree of peace and quiet, I find my wife upon her bed in a horrible rage afresh, calling me all the bitter names, and, rising, did fall to revile me in the bitterest manner in the world, and could not refrain to strike me and pull my hair, which I resolved to bear with, and had good reason to bear it. So I by silence and weeping did prevail with her a little to be quiet, and she would not eat her dinner without me; but yet by and by into a raging fit she fell again, worse than before, that she would slit the girl’s nose, and at last W. Hewer come in and come up, who did allay her fury, I flinging myself, in a sad desperate condition, upon the bed in the blue room, and there lay while they spoke together; and at last it come to this, that if I would call Deb. whore under my hand and write to her that I hated her, and would never see her more, she would believe me and trust in me, which I did agree to, only as to the name of whore I would have excused, and therefore wrote to her sparing that word, which my wife thereupon tore it, and would not be satisfied till, W. Hewer winking upon me, I did write so with the name of a whore as that I did fear she might too probably have been prevailed upon to have been a whore by her carriage to me, and therefore as such I did resolve never to see her more. This pleased my wife, and she gives it W. Hewer to carry to her with a sharp message from her. So from that minute my wife begun to be kind to me, and we to kiss and be friends, and so continued all the evening, and fell to talk of other matters, with great comfort, and after supper to bed. This evening comes Mr. Billup to me, to read over Mr. Wren’s alterations of my draught of a letter for the Duke of York to sign, to the Board; which I like mighty well, they being not considerable, only in mollifying some hard terms, which I had thought fit to put in. From this to other discourse; and do find that the Duke of York and his master, Mr. Wren, do look upon this service of mine as a very seasonable service to the Duke of York, as that which he will have to show to his enemies in his own justification, of his care of the King’s business; and I am sure I am heartily glad of it, both for the King’s sake and the Duke of York’s, and my own also; for, if I continue, my work, by this means, will be the less, and my share in the blame also. He being gone, I to my wife again, and so spent the evening with very great joy, and the night also with good sleep and rest, my wife only troubled in her rest, but less than usual, for which the God of Heaven be praised. I did this night promise to my wife never to go to bed without calling upon God upon my knees by prayer, and I begun this night, and hope I shall never forget to do the like all my life; for I do find that it is much the best for my soul and body to live pleasing to God and my poor wife, and will ease me of much care as well as much expense.
. Up, with great joy to my wife and me, and to the office, where W. Hewer did most honestly bring me back the part of my letter to Deb. wherein I called her whore, assuring me that he did not show it her, and that he did only give her to understand that wherein I did declare my desire never to see her, and did give her the best Christian counsel he could, which was mighty well done of him. But by the grace of God, though I love the poor girl and wish her well, as having gone too far toward the undoing her, yet I will never enquire after or think of her more, my peace being certainly to do right to my wife. At the Office all the morning; and after dinner abroad with W. Hewer to my Lord Ashly’s, where my Lord Barkeley and Sir Thomas Ingram4302 met upon Mr. Povy’s account, where I was in great pain about that part of his account wherein I am concerned, above £150, I think; and Creed hath declared himself dissatisfied with it, so far as to desire to cut his “Examinatur” out of the paper, as the only condition in which he would be silent in it. This Povy had the wit to yield to; and so when it come to be inquired into, I did avouch the truth of the account as to that particular, of my own knowledge, and so it went over as a thing good and just—as, indeed, in the bottom of it, it is; though in strictness, perhaps, it would not so well be understood. This Committee rising, I, with my mind much satisfied herein, away by coach home, setting Creed into Southampton Buildings, and so home; and there ended my letters, and then home to my wife, where I find my house clean now, from top to bottom, so as I have not seen it many a day, and to the full satisfaction of my mind, that I am now at peace, as to my poor wife, as to the dirtiness of my house, and as to seeing an end, in a great measure, to my present great disbursements upon my house, and coach and horses.
. My wife and I lay long, with mighty content; and so rose, and she spent the whole day making herself clean, after four or five weeks being in continued dirt; and I knocking up nails, and making little settlements in my house, till noon, and then eat a bit of meat in the kitchen, I all alone. And so to the Office, to set down my journal, for some days leaving it imperfect, the matter being mighty grievous to me, and my mind, from the nature of it; and so in, to solace myself with my wife, whom I got to read to me, and so W. Hewer and the boy; and so, after supper, to bed. This day my boy’s livery is come home, the first I ever had, of greene, lined with red; and it likes me well enough.
. Up, and called upon by W. Howe, who went, with W. Hewer with me, by water, to the Temple; his business was to have my advice about a place he is going to buy—the Clerk of the Patent’s place,4303 which I understand not, and so could say little to him, but fell to other talk, and setting him in at the Temple, we to Whitehall, and there I to visit Lord Sandwich, who is now so reserved, or moped rather, I think, with his own business, that he bids welcome to no man, I think, to his satisfaction. However, I bear with it, being willing to give him as little trouble as I can, and to receive as little from him, wishing only that I had my money in my purse, that I have lent him; but, however, I show no discontent at all. So to Whitehall, where a Committee of Tangier expected, but none met. I met with Mr. Povy, who I discoursed with about public business, who tells me that this discourse which I told him of, of the Duke of Monmouth being made Prince of Wales, hath nothing in it; though he thinks there are all the endeavours used in the world to overthrow the Duke of York. He would not have me doubt of my safety in the Navy, which I am doubtful of from the reports of a general removal; but he will endeavour to inform me, what he can gather from my Lord Arlington. That he do think that the Duke of Buckingham hath a mind rather to overthrow all the kingdom, and bring in a Commonwealth, wherein he may think to be General of their Army, or to make himself King, which, he believes, he may be led to, by some advice he hath had with conjurors, which he do affect. Thence with W. Hewer, who goes up and down with me like a jaylour, but yet with great love and to my great good liking, it being my desire above all things to please my wife therein. I took up my wife and boy at Unthank’s, and from there to Hercules Pillars, and there dined, and thence to our upholster’s, about some things more to buy, and so to see our coach, and so to the looking-glass man’s, by the New Exchange, and so to buy a picture for our blue chamber chimney, and so home; and there I made my boy to read to me most of the night, to get through the Life of the Archbishop of Canterbury.4304 At supper comes Mary Batelier, and with us all the evening, prettily talking, and very innocent company she is; and she gone, we with much content to bed, and to sleep, with mighty rest all night.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where Mr. Gentleman, the cook, and an old woman, his third or fourth wife, come and dined with us, to enquire about a ticket of his son’s, that is dead; and after dinner, I with Mr. Hosier to my closet, to discourse of the business of balancing Storekeeper’s accounts, which he hath taken great pains in reducing to a method, to my great satisfaction; and I shall be glad both for the King’s sake and his, that the thing may be put in practice, and will do my part to promote it. That done, he gone, I to the Office, where busy till night; and then with comfort to sit with my wife, and get her to read to me, and so to supper, and to bed, with my mind at mighty ease.
. Up, and by coach with W. Hewer to see W. Coventry; but he gone out, I to Whitehall, and there waited on Lord Sandwich, which I have little encouragement to do, because of the difficulty of seeing him, and the little he hath to say to me when I do see him, or to anybody else, but his own idle people about him, Sir Charles Harbord, etc. Thence walked with him to Whitehall, where to the Duke of York; and there the Duke, and Wren, and I, by appointment in his closet, to read over our letter to the Office, which he heard, and signed it, and it is to my mind, Mr. Wren having made it somewhat sweeter to the Board, and yet with all the advice fully, that I did draw it up with. He [the Duke] said little more to us now, his head being full of other business; but I do see that he do continue to put a value upon my advice; and so Mr. Wren and I to his chamber, and there talked: and he seems to hope that these people, the Duke of Buckingham and Arlington, will run themselves off of their legs; they being forced to be always putting the King upon one idle thing or other, against the easiness of his nature, which he will never be able to bear, nor they to keep him to, and so will lose themselves. And, for instance of their little progress, he tells me that my Lord of Ormond is like yet to carry it, and to continue in his command in Ireland; at least, they cannot get the better of him yet. But he tells me that the Keeper4305 is wrought upon, as they say, to give his opinion for the dissolving of the Parliament, which, he thinks, will undo him in the eyes of the people. He do not seem to own the hearing or fearing of anything to be done in the Admiralty, to the lessening of the Duke of York, though he hears how the town talk’s full of it. Thence I by coach home, and there find my cousin Roger come to dine with me, and to seal his mortgage for the £500 I lend him; but he and I first walked to the ’Change, there to look for my uncle Wight, and get him to dinner with us. So home, buying a barrel of oysters at my old oyster-woman’s, in Gracious Street, but over the way to where she kept her shop before. So home, and there merry at dinner; and the money not being ready, I carried Roger Pepys to Holborn Conduit,4306 and there left him going to Stradwick’s,4307 whom we avoided to see, because of our long absence, and my wife and I to the Duke of York’s house, to see The Duchess of Malfy, a sorry play, and sat with little pleasure, for fear of my wife’s seeing me look about, and so I was uneasy all the while, though I desire and resolve never to give her trouble of that kind more. So home, and there busy at the Office a while, and then home, where my wife to read to me, and so to supper, and to bed. This evening, to my great content, I got Sir Richard Ford to give me leave to set my coach in his yard.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning, where I was to have delivered the Duke of York’s letter of advice to the Board, in answer to our several answers to his great letter; but Lord Brouncker not being there, and doubtful to deliver it before the new Treasurers, I forbore it to next sitting. So home at noon to dinner, where I find Mr. Pierce and his wife but I was forced to show very little pleasure in her being there because of my vow to my wife; and therefore was glad of a very bad occasion for my being really troubled, which is, at W. Hewer’s losing of a tally of £1,000, which I sent him this day to receive of the Commissioners of Excise. So that though I hope at the worst I shall be able to get another, yet I made use of this to get away as soon as I had dined, and therefore out with him to the Excise Office to make a stop of its payment, and so away to the coachmaker’s and several other places, and so away home, and there to my business at the office, and thence home, and there my wife to read to me, and W. Hewer to set some matters of accounts right at my chamber, to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer to see W. Coventry again, but missed him again, by coming too late, the man of [all] the world that I am resolved to preserve an interest in. Thence to Whitehall, and there at our usual waiting on the Duke of York; and that being done, I away to the Exchequer, to give a stop, and take some advice about my lost tally, wherein I shall have some remedy, with trouble, and so home, and there find Mr. Povy, by appointment, to dine with me; where a pretty good dinner, but for want of thought in my wife it was but slovenly dressed up; however, much pleasant discourse with him, and some serious; and he tells me that he would, by all means, have me get to be a Parliament-man the next Parliament, which he believes there will be one, which I do resolve of. By and by comes my cousin Roger, and dines with us; and, after dinner, did seal his mortgage, wherein I do wholly rely on his honesty, not having so much as read over what he hath given me for it, nor minded it, but do trust to his integrity therein. They all gone, I to the office and there a while, and then home to ease my eyes and make my wife read to me.
. Up, and all the morning at the Office, where, while I was sitting, one comes and tells me that my coach is come. So I was forced to go out, and to Sir Richard Ford’s, where I spoke to him, and he is very willing to have it brought in, and stand there; and so I ordered it, to my great content, it being mighty pretty, only the horses do not please me, and, therefore, resolve to have better. At noon home to dinner, and so to the office again all the afternoon, and did a great deal of business, and so home to supper and to bed, with my mind at pretty good ease, having this day presented to the Board the Duke of York’s letter,4308 which, I perceive, troubled Sir W. Penn, he declaring himself meant in that part, that concerned excuse by sickness;4309 but I do not care, but am mightily glad that it is done, and now I shall begin to be at pretty good ease in the Office. This morning, to my great content, W. Hewer tells me that a porter is come, who found my tally in Holborne, and brings it him, for which he gives him 20s.
. Lay long in bed with pleasure with my wife, with whom I have now a great deal of content, and my mind is in other things also mightily more at ease, and I do mind my business better than ever and am more at peace, and trust in God I shall ever be so, though I cannot yet get my mind off from thinking now and then of Deb., but I do ever since my promise a while since to my wife pray to God by myself in my chamber every night, and will endeavour to get my wife to do the like with me ere long, but am in much fear of what she lately frighted me with about her being a Catholic; and I dare not, therefore, move her to go to church, for fear she should deny me; but this morning, of her own accord, she spoke of going to church the next Sunday, which pleases me mightily. This morning my coachman’s clothes come home; and I like the livery mightily, and so I all the morning at my chamber, and dined with my wife, and got her to read to me in the afternoon, till Sir W. Warren, by appointment, comes to me, who spent two hours, or three, with me, about his accounts of Gottenburgh,4310 which are so confounded, that I doubt they will hardly ever pass without my doing something, which he desires of me, and which, partly from fear, and partly from unwillingness to wrong the King, and partly from its being of no profit to me, I am backward to give way to, though the poor man do indeed deserve to be rid of this trouble, that he hath lain so long under, from the negligence of this Board. We afterwards fell to other talk, and he tells me, as soon as he saw my coach yesterday, he wished that the owner might not contract envy by it; but I told him it was now manifestly for my profit to keep a coach, and that, after employments like mine for eight years, it were hard if I could not be justly thought to be able to do that.4311 He gone, my wife and I to supper; and so she to read, and made an end of the Life of Archbishop Laud, which is worth reading, as informing a man plainly in the posture of the Church, and how the things of it were managed with the same self-interest and design that every other thing is, and have succeeded accordingly. So to bed.
. Up betimes, and with W. Hewer, who is my guard, to Whitehall, to a Committee of Tangier, where the business of Mr. Lanyon4312 took up all the morning; and where, poor man! he did manage his business with so much folly, and ill fortune to boot, that the Board, before his coming in, inclining, of their own accord, to lay his cause aside, and leave it to the law, but he pressed that we would hear it, and it ended to the making him appear a very knave, as well as it did to me a fool also, which I was sorry for. Thence by water, Mr. Povy, Creed, and I, to Arundell House, and there I did see them choosing their Council, it being St. Andrew’s-day;4313 and I had his Cross4314 set on my hat, as the rest had, and cost me 2s., and so leaving them I away by coach home to dinner, and my wife, after dinner, went the first time abroad to take the maidenhead of her coach, calling on Roger Pepys, and visiting Mrs. Creed, and my cousin Turner, while I at home all the afternoon and evening, very busy and doing much work, to my great content. Home at night, and there comes Mrs. Turner and Betty to see us, and supped with us, and I showed them a cold civility for fear of troubling my wife, and after supper, they being gone, we to bed. Thus ended this month, with very good content, that hath been the most sad to my heart and the most expenseful to my purse on things of pleasure, having furnished my wife’s closet and the best chamber, and a coach and horses, that ever I yet knew in the world: and do put me into the greatest condition of outward state that ever I was in, or hoped ever to be, or desired: and this at a time when we do daily expect great changes in this Office: and by all reports we must, all of us, turn out. But my eyes are come to that condition that I am not able to work: and therefore that, and my wife’s desire, make me have no manner of trouble in my thoughts about it. So God do his will in it!
December 1668
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, and at noon with my people to dinner, and so to the office, very busy till night, and then home and made my boy read to me Wilkins’s Real Character, which do please me mightily, and so after supper to bed with great pleasure and content with my wife. This day I hear of poor Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, being dead, of a cold, after being not above two days ill, which troubles me mightily, poor man!
. Up, and at the office all the morning upon some accounts of Sir D. Gawden, and at noon abroad with W. Hewer, thinking to have found Mr. Wren at Captain Cox’s, to have spoke something to him about doing a favour for Will’s uncle Steventon, but missed him. And so back home and abroad with my wife, the first time that ever I rode in my own coach, which do make my heart rejoice, and praise God, and pray him to bless it to me and continue it. So she and I to the King’s playhouse, and there sat to avoid seeing Knepp in a box above where Mrs. Williams happened to be, and there saw The Usurper; a pretty good play, in all but what is designed to resemble Cromwell and Hugh Peters, which is mighty silly. The play done, we to Whitehall; where my wife stayed while I up to the Duchess’s and Queen’s side, to speak with the Duke of York: and here saw all the ladies, and heard the silly discourse of the King, with his people about him, telling a story of my Lord Rochester’s having of his clothes stole, while he was with a wench; and his gold all gone, but his clothes found afterwards stuffed into a feather bed by the wench that stole them. I spoke with the Duke of York, just as he was set down to supper with the King, about our sending of victuals to Sir Thomas Allen’s fleet hence to Cales [Cadiz] to meet him. And so back to my wife in my coach, and so with great content and joy home, where I made my boy to make an end of the Real Character, which I begun a great while ago, and do please me infinitely, and indeed is a most worthy labour, and I think mighty easy, though my eyes make me unable to attempt anything in it. Today I hear that Mr. Ackworth’s cause went for him at Guildhall,4315 against his accusers, which I am well enough pleased with.
. Up betimes, and by water with W. Hewer to Whitehall, and there to Mr. Wren, who gives me but small hopes of the favour I hoped for Mr. Steventon, Will’s uncle, of having leave, being upon the point of death, to surrender his place, which do trouble me, but I will do what I can. So back again to the Office, Sir Jer. Smith with me; who is a silly, prating, talking man; but he tells me what he hears, that Holmes and Spragg now rule all with the Duke of Buckingham, as to seabusiness, and will be great men: but he do prophesy what will be the fruit of it; so I do. So to the Office, where we sat all the morning; and at noon home to dinner, and then abroad again, with my wife, to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and saw The Unfortunate Lovers; a mean play, I think, but some parts very good, and excellently acted. We sat under the boxes, and saw the fine ladies; among others, my Lady Kerneguy,4316 who is most devilishly painted. And so home, it being mighty pleasure to go alone with my poor wife, in a coach of our own, to a play, and makes us appear mighty great, I think, in the world; at least, greater than ever I could, or my friends for me, have once expected; or, I think, than ever any of my family ever yet lived, in my memory, but my cousin Pepys in Salisbury Court. So to the office, and thence home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer by water to Whitehall, and there did wait as usual upon the Duke of York, where, upon discoursing something touching the Ticket-Office, which by letter the Board did give the Duke of York their advice, to be put upon Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes did foolishly rise up and complain of the Office, and his being made nothing of; and this before Sir Thomas Littleton, who would be glad of this difference among us, which did trouble me mightily; and therefore I did forbear to say what I otherwise would have thought fit for me to say on this occasion, upon so impertinent a speech as this doting fool made—but, I say, I let it alone, and contented myself that it went as I advised, as to the Duke of York’s judgment, in the thing disputed. And so thence away, my coach meeting me there and carrying me to several places to do little jobs, which is a mighty convenience, and so home, where by invitation I find my aunt Wight, who looked over all our house, and is mighty pleased with it, and indeed it is now mighty handsome, and rich in furniture. By and by comes my uncle, and then to dinner, where a venison pasty and very merry, and after dinner I carried my wife and her to Smithfield, where they sit in the coach, while Mr. Pickering, who meets me there, and I, and W. Hewer, and a friend of his, a jockey, did go about to see several pairs of horses, for my coach; but it was late, and we agreed on none, but left it to another time: but here I do see instances of a piece of craft and cunning that I never dreamed of, concerning the buying and choosing of horses. So Mr. Pickering, to whom I am much beholden for his kindness herein, and I parted; and I with my people home, where I left them, and I to the office, to meet about some business of Sir W. Warren’s accounts, where I vexed to see how ill all the Comptroller’s business is likely to go on, so long as ever Sir J. Minnes lives; and so troubled I was, that I thought it a good occasion for me to give my thoughts of it in writing, and therefore wrote a letter at the Board, by the help of a tube, to Lord Brouncker, and did give it him, which I kept a copy of, and it may be of use to me hereafter to show, in this matter. This being done, I home to my aunt, who supped with us, and my uncle also: and a good-humoured woman she is, so that I think we shall keep her acquaintance; but mighty proud she is of her wedding-ring, being lately set with diamonds; cost her about £12: and I did commend it mightily to her, but do not think it very suitable for one of our quality. After supper they home, and we to bed.
. Up, after a little talk with my wife, which troubled me, she being ever since our late difference mighty watchful of sleep and dreams, and will not be persuaded but I do dream of Deb., and do tell me that I speak in my dreams and that this night I did cry, Hussy, and it must be she, and now and then I start otherwise than I used to do, she says, which I know not, for I do not know that I dream of her more than usual, though I cannot deny that my thoughts waking do run now and then against my will and judgment upon her, for that only is wanting to undo me, being now in every other thing as to my mind most happy, and may still be so but for my own fault, if I be catched loving anybody but my wife again. So up and to the office, and at noon to dinner, and thence to office, where late, mighty busy, and despatching much business, settling papers in my own office, and so home to supper, and to bed. No news stirring, but that my Lord of Ormond is likely to go to Ireland again, which do show that the Duke of Buckingham do not rule all so absolutely; and that, however, we shall speedily have more changes in the Navy: and it is certain that the Nonconformists do now preach openly in houses, in many places, and among others the house that was heretofore Sir G. Carteret’s, in Leadenhall Street, and have ready access to the King. And now the great dispute is, whether this Parliament or another; and my great design, if I continue in the Navy, is to get myself to be a Parliament-man.
. Up, and with my wife to church; which pleases me mightily, I being full of fear that she would never go to church again, after she had declared to me that she was a Roman Catholic. But though I do verily think she fears God, and is truly and sincerely righteous, yet I do see she is not so strictly so a Catholic as not to go to church with me, which pleases me mightily. Here Mills made a lazy sermon, upon Moses’s meekness, and so home, and my wife and I alone to dinner, and then she to read a little book concerning speech in general,4317 a translation late out of French; a most excellent piece as ever I read, proving a soul in man, and all the ways and secrets by which nature teaches speech in man, which do please me most infinitely to read. By and by my wife to church, and I to my Office to complete my Journal for the last three days, and so home to my chamber to settle some papers, and so to spend the evening with my wife and W. Hewer talking over the business of the Office, and particularly my own Office, how I will make it, and it will become, in a little time, an Office of ease, and not slavery, as it hath for so many years been. So to supper, and to bed.
. Up by candlelight, the first time I have done so this winter, but I had lost my labour so often to visit Sir W. Coventry, and not visited him so long, that I was resolved to get time enough, and so up, and with W. Hewer, it being the first frosty day we have had this winter, did walk it very well to W. Coventry’s, and there alone with him an hour talking of the Navy, which he pities, but says he hath no more mind to be found meddling with the Navy, lest it should do it hurt, as well as him, to be found to meddle with it. So to talk of general things: and telling him that, with all these doings, he, I thanked God, stood yet; he told me, Yes, but that he thought his continuing in, did arise from his enemies my Lord of Buckingham and Arlington’s seeing that he cared so little if he was out; and he do protest to me that he is as weary of the Treasury, as ever he was of the Navy. He tells me that he do believe that their heat is over almost, as to the Navy, there being now none left of the old stock but my Lord Brouncker, J. Minnes, who is ready to leave the world, and myself. But he tells me that he do foresee very great wants and great disorders by reason thereof; insomuch, as he is represented to the King by his enemies as a melancholy man, and one that is still prophesying ill events, so as the King called him Visionaire, which being told him, he said he answered the party, that, whatever he foresaw, he was not afeard as to himself of anything, nor particularly of my Lord Arlington, so much as the Duke of Buckingham hath been, nor of the Duke of Buckingham, so much as my Lord Arlington at this time is. But he tells me that he hath been always looked upon as a melancholy man; whereas, others that would please the King do make him believe that all is safe: and so he hath heard my Lord Chancellor openly say to the King, that he was now a glorious prince, and in a glorious condition, because of some one accident that hath happened, or some one rub that hath been removed; “when,” says W. Coventry, “they reckoned their one good meal, without considering that there was nothing left in the cup board for tomorrow.” After this and other discourse of this kind, I away, and walked to my Lord Sandwich’s, and walked with him to Whitehall, and took a quarter of an hour’s walk in the garden with him, which I had not done for so much time with him since his coming into England; and talking of his own condition, and particularly of the world’s talk of his going to Tangier. I find, if his conditions can be made profitable and safe as to money, he would go, but not else; but, however, will seem not averse to it, because of facilitating his other accounts now depending, which he finds hard to get through, but yet hath some hopes, the King, he says, speaking very kindly to him. Thence to a Committee of Tangier, and so with W. Hewer to Westminster to Sir R. Longs office, and so to the Temple, but did nothing, the Auditor not being within, and so home to dinner, and after dinner out again with my wife to the Temple, and up and down to do a little business, and back again, and so to my office, and did a little business, and so home, and W. Hewer with me, to read and talk, and so to supper, and then to bed in mighty good humour. This afternoon, passing through Queen’s Street, I saw pass by our coach on foot Deb., which, God forgive me, did put me into some new thoughts of her, and for her, but durst not show them, and I think my wife did not see her, but I did get my thoughts free of her soon as I could.
. Up, and Sir H. Cholmly betimes with me, about some accounts and moneys due to him: and he gone, I to the Office, where sat all the morning; and here, among other things, breaks out the storm W. Hewer and I have long expected from the Surveyor4318 about W. Hewer’s conspiring to get a contract, to the burdening of the stores with kerseys and cottons, of which he hath often complained, and lately more than ever; and now he did it by a most scandalous letter to the Board, reflecting on my Office: and, by discourse, it fell to such high words between him and me, as can hardly ever be forgot; I declaring I would believe W. Hewer as soon as him, and laying the fault, if there be any, upon himself; he, on the other hand, vilifying of my word and W. Hewer’s, calling him knave, and that if he were his clerk, he should lose his ears. At last, I closed the business for this morning with making the thing ridiculous, as it is, and he swearing that the King should have right in it, or he would lose his place. The Office was cleared of all but ourselves and W. Hewer; but, however, the world did by the beginning see what it meant, and it will, I believe, come to high terms between us, which I am sorry for, to have any blemish laid upon me or mine, at this time, though never so unduly, for fear of giving occasion to my real discredit: and therefore I was not only all the rest of the morning vexed, but so went home to dinner, where my wife tells me of my Lord Orrery’s new play Tryphon,4319 at the Duke of York’s house, which, however, I would see, and therefore put a bit of meat in our mouths, and went thither; where, with much ado, at half-past one, we got into a blind hole in the 18d. place, above stairs, where we could not hear well, but the house infinite full, but the prologue most silly, and the play, though admirable, yet no pleasure almost in it, because just the very same design, and words, and sense, and plot, as every one of his plays have, any one of which alone would be held admirable, whereas so many of the same design and fancy do but dull one another; and this, I perceive, is the sense of everybody else, as well as myself, who therefore showed but little pleasure in it. So home, mighty hot, and my mind mightily out of order, so as I could not eat any supper, or sleep almost all night, though I spent till twelve at night with W. Hewer to consider of our business: and we find it not only most free from any blame of our side, but so horrid scandalous on the other, to make so groundless a complaint, and one so shameful to him, that it could not but let me see that there is no need of my being troubled; but such is the weakness of my nature, that I could not help it, which vexes me, showing me how unable I am to live with difficulties.
. Up, and to the Office, but did little there, my mind being still uneasy, though more and more satisfied that there is no occasion for it; but abroad with my wife to the Temple, where I met with Auditor Wood’s clerk, and did some business with him, and so to see Mr. Spong, and found him out by Southampton Market,4320 and there carried my wife, and up to his chamber, a bye place, but with a good prospect of the fields; and there I had most infinite pleasure, not only with his ingenuity in general, but in particular with his showing me the use of the Parallelogram, by which he drew in a quarter of an hour before me, in little, from a great, a most neat map of England—that is, all the outlines, which gives me infinite pleasure, and foresight of pleasure, I shall have with it; and therefore desire to have that which I have bespoke, made. Many other pretty things he showed us, and did give me a glass bubble, to try the strength of liquors with.4321 This done, and having spent 6d. in ale in the coach, at the door of the Bull Inn, with the innocent master of the house, a Yorkshireman, for his letting us go through his house, we away to Hercules Pillars, and there eat a bit of meat: and so, with all speed, back to the Duke of York’s house, where mighty full again; but we come time enough to have a good place in the pit, and did hear this new play again, where, though I better understood it than before, yet my sense of it and pleasure was just the same as yesterday, and no more, nor anybody else’s about us. So took our coach and home, having now little pleasure to look about me to see the fine faces, for fear of displeasing my wife, whom I take great comfort now, more than ever, in pleasing; and it is a real joy to me. So home, and to my Office, where spent an hour or two; and so home to my wife, to supper and talk, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, where busy all the morning: Middleton not there, so no words or looks of him. At noon, home to dinner; and so to the Office, and there all the afternoon busy; and at night W. Hewer home with me; and we think we have got matter enough to make Middleton appear a coxcomb. But it troubled me to have Sir W. Warren meet me at night, going out of the Office home, and tell me that Middleton do intend to complain to the Duke of York: but, upon consideration of the business, I did go to bed, satisfied that it was best for me that he should; and so my trouble was over, and to bed, and slept well.
. Up, and with W. Hewer by water to Somerset House; and there I to my Lord Brouncker, before he went forth to the Duke of York, and there told him my confidence that I should make Middleton appear a fool, and that it was, I thought, best for me to complain of the wrong he hath done; but brought it about, that my Lord desired me I would forbear, and promised that he would prevent Middleton till I had given in my answer to the Board, which I desired: and so away to Whitehall, and there did our usual attendance and no word spoke before the Duke of York by Middleton at all; at which I was glad to my heart, because by this means I have time to draw up my answer to my mind. So with W. Hewer by coach to Smithfield, but met not Mr. Pickering, he being not come, and so he [Will] and I to a cook’s shop, in Aldersgate Street; and dined well for 19½d., upon roast beef, pleasing ourselves with the infinite strength we have to prove Middleton a coxcomb; and so, having dined, we back to Smithfield, and there met Pickering, and up and down all the afternoon about horses, and did see the knaveries and tricks of jockeys. Here I met W. Joyce, who troubled me with his impertinencies a great while, and the like Mr. Knepp, who, it seems, is a kind of a jockey, and would fain have been doing something for me, but I avoided him, and the more for fear of being troubled thereby with his wife, whom I desire but dare not see, for my vow to my wife. At last went away and did nothing, only concluded upon giving £50 for a fine pair of black horses we saw this day sennight; and so set Mr. Pickering down near his house, whom I am much beholden to, for his care herein, and he hath admirable skill, I perceive, in this business, and so home, and spent the evening talking and merry, my mind at good ease, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and so the like mighty busy, late, all the afternoon, that I might be ready to go to the drawing up of my answer to Middleton tomorrow, and therefore home to supper and to bed. I hear this day that there is fallen down a new house, not quite finished, in Lombard Street, and that there have been several so, they making use of bad mortar and bricks; but no hurt yet, as God hath ordered it. This day was brought home my pair of black coach-horses, the first I ever was master of. They cost me £50, and are a fine pair.
. Up, and with W. Hewer to the Office, where all the morning, and then home to a little dinner, and presently to it again all alone till twelve at night, drawing up my answer to Middleton, which I think I shall do to very good purpose—at least, I satisfy myself therein; and so to bed, weary with walking in my Office dictating to him [Hewer]. In the night my wife very ill, vomited, but was well again by and by.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where, among other things, a silly account of a falling out between Norwood,4322 at Tangier, and Mr. Bland, the mayor, who is fled to Cales [Cadiz]. His complaint is ill-worded, and the other’s defence the most ridiculous that ever I saw; and so everybody else that was there, thought it; but never did I see so great an instance of the use of grammar, and knowledge how to tell a man’s tale as this day, Bland having spoiled his business by ill-telling it, who had work to have made himself notorious by his mastering Norwood, his enemy, if he had known how to have used it. Thence calling Smith, the Auditor’s clerk at the Temple, I by the Exchange home, and there looked over my Tangier accounts with him, and so to dinner, and then set him down again by a hackney, my coachman being this day about breaking of my horses to the coach, they having never yet drawn. Left my wife at Unthank’s, and I to the Treasury, where we waited on the Lords Commissioners about Sir D. Gawden’s matters, and so took her up again at night, and home to the office, and so home with W. Hewer, and to talk about our quarrel with Middleton, and so to supper and to bed. This day I hear, and am glad, that the King hath prorogued the Parliament to October next; and, among other reasons, it will give me time to go to France, I hope.
. Up, and to the Office, where sat all the morning, and the new Treasurers there; and, for my life, I cannot keep Sir J. Minnes and others of the Board from showing our weakness, to the dishonour of the Board, though I am not concerned but it do vex me to the heart to have it before these people, that would be glad to find out all our weaknesses. At noon Mrs. Mary Batelier with us, and so, after dinner, I with W. Hewer all the afternoon till night beginning to draw up our answer to Middleton, and it proves troublesome, because I have so much in my head at a time to say, but I must go through with it. So at night to supper and to bed.
. I did the like all day long, only a little at dinner, and so to work again, and were at it till 2 in the morning, and so W. Hewer, who was with me all day, home to his lodging, and I to bed, after we had finished it.
. Up, and set my man Gibson and Mr. Fist4323 to work to write it over fair, while I all the morning at the office sitting. At noon home to them, and all the afternoon looking over them and examining with W. Hewer, and so about 10 at night I to bed, leaving them to finish the writing it fair, which they did by sitting up most of the night, and so home to bed.
. All the morning at the office about Sir W. Warren’s accounts, my mind full of my business, having before we met gone to Lord Brouncker, and got him to read over my paper, who owns most absolute content in it, and the advantage I have in it, and the folly of the Surveyor. At noon home to dinner; and then again to the office a while, and so by hackney coach to Brooke House, and there spoke with Colonel Thomson, I by order carrying them [the Commissioners of Accounts] our Contract-books, from the beginning to the end of the late war. I found him finding of errors in a ship’s book, where he showed me many, which must end in the ruin, I doubt, of the Controller, who found them not out in the pay of the ship, or the whole Office. But I took little notice of them to concern myself in them, but so leaving my books I home to the Office, where the office met, and after some other business done, fell to mine, which the Surveyor begun to be a little brisk at the beginning; but when I come to the point to touch him, which I had all the advantages in the world to do, he become as calm as a lamb, and owned, as the whole Board did, their satisfaction, and cried excuse: and so all made friends; and their acknowledgment put into writing, and delivered into Sir J. Minnes’s hand, to be kept there for the use of the Board, or me, when I shall call for it; they desiring it might be so, that I might not make use of it to the prejudice of the Surveyor, whom I had an advantage over, by his extraordinary folly in this matter. But, besides this, I have no small advantage got by this business, as I have put several things into my letter which I should otherwise have wanted an opportunity of saying, which pleases me mightily. So Middleton desiring to be friends, I forgave him; and all mighty quiet, and fell to talk of other stories, and there stayed, all of us, till nine or ten at night, more than ever we did in our lives before, together. And so home, where I have a new fight to fight with my wife, who is under new trouble by some news she hath heard of Deb.’s being mighty fine, and gives out that she has a friend that gives her money, and this my wife believes to be me, and, poor wretch! I cannot blame her, and therefore she run into mighty extremes; but I did pacify all, and were mighty good friends, and to bed, and I hope it will be our last struggle from this business, for I am resolved never to give any new occasion, and great peace I find in my mind by it. So to supper, she and I to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon, eating very little dinner, my wife and I by hackney to the King’s playhouse, and there, the pit being full, sat in a box above, and saw Catiline’s Conspiracy,4324 yesterday being the first day: a play of much good sense and words to read, but that do appear the worst upon the stage, I mean, the least diverting, that ever I saw any, though most fine in clothes; and a fine scene of the Senate, and of a fight, that ever I saw in my life. But the play is only to be read, and therefore home, with no pleasure at all, but only in sitting next to Betty Hall,4325 that did belong to this house, and was Sir Philip Howard’s mistress; a mighty pretty wench, though my wife will not think so; and I dare neither commend, nor be seen to look upon her, or any other now, for fear of offending her. So, our own coach coming for us, home, and to end letters, and so home, my wife to read to me out of The Siege of Rhodes, and so to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and with my wife to church, and then home, and there found W. Joyce come to dine with me, as troublesome a talking coxcombe as ever he was, and yet once in a year I like him well enough. In the afternoon my wife and W. Hewer and I to Whitehall, where they set me down and stayed till I had been with the Duke of York, with the rest of us of the Office, and did a little business, and then the Duke of York in good humour did fall to tell us many fine stories of the wars in Flanders, and how the Spaniards are the [best] disciplined foot in the world; will refuse no extraordinary service if commanded, but scorn to be paid for it, as in other countries, though at the same time they will beg in the streets: not a soldier will carry you a cloak-bag for money for the world, though he will beg a penny, and will do the thing, if commanded by his Commander. That, in the citadel of Antwerp, a soldier hath not a liberty of begging till he hath served three years. They will cry out against their King and Commanders and Generals, none like them in the world, and yet will not hear a stranger say a word of them but he will cut his throat. That, upon a time, some of the Commanders of their army exclaiming against their Generals, and particularly the Marquis de Caranen,4326 the Confessor of the Marquis coming by and hearing them, he stops and gravely tells them that the three great trades of the world are, the lawyers, who govern the world; the churchmen, who enjoy the world; and a sort of fools whom they call souldiers, who make it their work to defend the world. He told us, too, that Turenne being now become a Catholic,4327 he is likely to get over the head of Colbert,4328 their interests being contrary; the latter to promote trade4329 and the sea, which, says the Duke of York, is that that we have most cause to fear; and Turenne to employ the King and his forces by land, to increase his conquests. Thence to the coach to my wife, and so home, and there with W. Hewer to my office and to do some business, and so set down my Journal for four or five days, and then home to supper and read a little, and to bed. W. Hewer tells me today that he hears that the King of France hath declared in print, that he do intend this next summer to forbid his Commanders to strike4330 to us, but that both we and the Dutch shall strike to him; and that he hath made his captains swear it already, that they will observe it: which is a great thing if he do it, as I know nothing to hinder him.
. My own coach carrying me and my boy Tom, who goes with me in the room of W. Hewer, who could not, and I dare not go alone, to the Temple, and there set me down, the first time my fine horses ever carried me, and I am mighty proud of them, and there took a hackney and to Whitehall, where a Committee of Tangier, but little to do, and so away home, calling at the Exchange and buying several little things, and so home, and there dined with my wife and people and then she, and W. Hewer, and I by appointment out with our coach, but the old horses, not daring yet to use the others too much, but only to enter them, and to the Temple, there to call Talbot Pepys, and took him up, and first went into Holborne, and there saw the woman that is to be seen with a beard.4331 She is a little plain woman, a Dane: her name, Ursula Dyan; about forty years old; her voice like a little girl’s; with a beard as much as any man I ever saw, black almost, and grizly; they offered to show my wife further satisfaction if she desired it, refusing it to men that desired it there, but there is no doubt but by her voice she is a woman; it begun to grow at about seven years old, and was shaved not above seven months ago, and is now so big as any man’s almost that ever I saw; I say, bushy and thick. It was a strange sight to me, I confess, and what pleased me mightily. Thence to the Duke’s playhouse, and saw Macbeth. The King and Court there; and we sat just under them and my Lady Castlemayne, and close to the woman that comes into the pit, a kind of a loose gossip, that pretends to be like her, and is so, something. And my wife, by my troth, appeared, I think, as pretty as any of them; I never thought so much before; and so did Talbot and W. Hewer, as they said, I heard, to one another. The King and Duke of York minded me, and smiled upon me, at the handsome woman near me but it vexed me to see Moll Davis, in the box over the King’s and my Lady Castlemayne’s head, look down upon the King, and he up to her; and so did my Lady Castlemayne once, to see who it was; but when she saw her, she looked like fire; which troubled me. The play done, took leave of Talbot, who goes into the country this Christmas, and so we home, and there I to work at the office late, and so home to supper and to bed.
. At the office all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, thinking to meet with Langford about my father’s house in Fleet Street, but I come too late, and so home to dinner, and all the afternoon at the office busy, and at night home to supper and talk, and with mighty content with my wife, and so to bed.
. Met at the Office all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, and there met with Langford and Mr. Franke, the landlord of my father’s house in Fleet Street, and are come to an arbitration what my father shall give him to be freed of his lease and building the house again. Walked up and down the ’Change, and among others discoursed with Sir John Bankes, who thinks this prorogation will please all but the Parliament itself, which will, if ever they meet, be vexed at Buckingham, who yet governs all. He says the Nonconformists are glad of it, and, he believes, will get the upperhand in a little time, for the King must trust to them or nobody; and he thinks the King will be forced to it. He says that Sir D. Gawden is mightily troubled at Penn’s being put upon him, by the Duke of York,4332 and that he believes he will get clear of it, which, though it will trouble me to have Penn still at the Office, yet I shall think D. Gawden do well in it, and what I would advise him to, because I love him. So home to dinner, and then with my wife alone abroad, with our new horses, the beautifullest almost that ever I saw, and the first time they ever carried her, and me but once; but we are mighty proud of them. To her tailor’s, and so to the ’Change, and laid out three or four pounds in lace, for her and me; and so home, and there I up to my Lord Brouncker, at his lodgings, and sat with him an hour, on purpose to talk over the wretched state of this Office at present, according to the present hands it is made up of; wherein he do fully concur with me, and that it is our part not only to prepare for defending it and ourselves, against the consequences of it, but to take the best ways we can, to make it known to the Duke of York; for, till Sir J. Minnes be removed, and a sufficient man brought into W. Penn’s place, when he is gone, it is impossible for this Office ever to support itself. So home, and to supper and to bed.
. A cold day. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning alone at the Office, nobody meeting, being the eve of Christmas. At noon home to dinner, and then to the Office busy, all the afternoon, and at night home to supper, and it being now very cold, and in hopes of a frost, I begin this night to put on a waistcoat, it being the first winter in my whole memory that ever I stayed till this day before I did so. So to bed in mighty good humour with my wife, but sad, in one thing, and that is for my poor eyes.
. Up, and continued on my waistcoat, the first day this winter, and I to church, where Alderman Backewell, coming in late, I beckoned to his lady to come up to us, who did, with another lady; and after sermon, I led her down through the church to her husband and coach, a noble, fine woman, and a good one, and one my wife shall be acquainted with. So home, and to dinner alone with my wife, who, poor wretch! sat undressed all day, till ten at night, altering and lacing of a noble petticoat: while I by her, making the boy read to me the Life of Julius Caesar,4333 and Des Cartes’ book of Music4334—the latter of which I understand not, nor think he did well that writ it, though a most learned man. Then, after supper, I made the boy play upon his lute, which I have not done twice before since he come to me; and so, my mind in mighty content, we to bed.
. Lay long with pleasure, prating with my wife, and then up, and I a little to the Office, and my head busy setting some papers and accounts to rights, which being long neglected because of my eyes will take me up much time and care to do, but it must be done. So home at noon to dinner, and then abroad with my wife to a play, at the Duke of York’s house, the house full of ordinary citizens. The play was Women Pleased,4335 which we had never seen before; and, though but indifferent, yet there is a good design for a good play. So home, and there to talk, and my wife to read to me, and so to bed.
. Walked to Whitehall and there saw the King at chapel; but stayed not to hear anything, but went to walk in the Park, with W. Hewer, who was with me; and there, among others, met with Sir G. Downing, and walked with him an hour, talking of business, and how the late war was managed, there being nobody to take care of it, and telling how, when he was in Holland, what he offered the King to do, if he might have power, and they would give him power, and then, upon the least word, perhaps of a woman, to the King, he was contradicted again, and particularly to the loss of all that we lost in Guinea. He told me that he had so good spies, that he hath had the keys taken out of De Witt’s4336 pocket when he was abed, and his closet opened, and papers brought to him, and left in his hands for an hour, and carried back and laid in the place again, and keys put into his pocket again. He says that he hath always had their most private debates, that have been but between two or three of the chief of them, brought to him in an hour after, and an hour after that, hath sent word thereof to the King, but nobody here regarded them. But he tells me the sad news, that he is out of all expectations that ever the debts of the Navy will be paid, if the Parliament do not enable the King to do it by money; all they can hope for to do out of the King’s revenue being but to keep our wheels a-going on present services, and, if they can, to cut off the growing interest: which is a sad story, and grieves me to the heart. So home, my coach coming for me, and there find Balty and Mr. How, who dined with me; and there my wife and I fell out a little about the foulness of the linen of the table, but were friends presently, but she cried, poor heart! which I was troubled for, though I did not give her one hard word. Dinner done, she to church, and W. How and I all the afternoon talking together about my Lord Sandwich’s suffering his business of the prizes to be managed by Sir R. Cuttance, who is so deep in the business, more than my Lord knows of, and such a loggerhead, and under such prejudice, that he will, we doubt, do my Lord much wrong. In the evening, he gone, my wife to read to me and talk, and spent the evening with much pleasure, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, called up by drums and trumpets; these things and boxes having cost me much money this Christmas already, and will do more. My wife down by water to see her mother, and I with W. Hewer all day together in my closet making some advance in the settling of my accounts, which have been so long unevened that it troubles me how to set them right, having not the use of my eyes to help me. My wife at night home, and tells me how much her mother prays for me and is troubled for my eyes; and I am glad to have friendship with them, and believe they are truly glad to see their daughter come to live so well as she do. So spent the night in talking, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning, and at noon to dinner, and there, by a pleasant mistake, find my uncle and aunt Wight, and three more of their company, come to dine with me today, thinking that they had been invited, which they were not; but yet we did give them a pretty good dinner, and mighty merry at the mistake. They sat most of the afternoon with us, and then parted, and my wife and I out, thinking to have gone to a play, but it was too far begun, and so to the ’Change, and there she and I bought several things, and so home, with much pleasure talking, and then to reading, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and vexed a little to be forced to pay 40s. for a glass of my coach, which was broke the other day, nobody knows how, within the door, while it was down; but I do doubt that I did break it myself with my knees. After dinner, my wife and I to the Duke’s playhouse, and there did see King Harry the Eighth; and was mightily pleased, better than I ever expected, with the history and shows of it. We happened to sit by Mr. Andrews, our neighbour, and his wife, who talked so fondly to his little boy. Thence my wife and I to the ’Change; but, in going, our near horse did fling himself, kicking of the coachbox over the pole; and a great deal of trouble it was to get him right again, and we forced to ’light, and in great fear of spoiling the horse, but there was no hurt. So to the ’Change, and then home, and there spent the evening talking, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning. At noon Capt. Ferrers and Mr. Sheres4337 come to me to dinner, who did, and pretty pleased with their talk of Spain; but my wife did not come down, I suppose because she would not, Captain Ferrers being there, to oblige me by it. They gone, after dinner, I to the office, and then in the evening home, being the last day of the year, to endeavour to pay all bills and servants’ wages, etc., which I did almost to £5 that I know that I owe in the world, but to the public; and so with great pleasure to supper and to bed, and, blessed be God! the year ends, after some late very great sorrow with my wife by my folly, yet ends, I say, with great mutual peace and content, and likely to last so by my care, who am resolved to enjoy the sweet of it, which I now possess, by never giving her like cause of trouble. My greatest trouble is now from the backwardness of my accounts, which I have not seen the bottom of now near these two years, so that I know not in what condition I am in the world, but by the grace of God, as far as my eyes will give me leave, I will do it.
January 1668–69
. Up, and presented from Captain Beckford4338 with a noble silver warming-pan, which I am doubtful whether to take or no. Up, and with W. Hewer to the New Exchange, and then he and I to the cabinet-shops, to look out, and did agree, for a cabinet to give my wife for a New-year’s gift; and I did buy one cost me £11, which is very pretty, of walnut-tree, and will come home tomorrow. So back to the old Exchange, and there met my uncle Wight; and there walked, and met with the Houblons, and talked with them—gentlemen whom I honour mightily: and so to my uncle’s, and met my wife; and there, with W. Hewer, we dined with our family, and had a very good dinner, and pretty merry and after dinner, my wife and I with our coach to the King’s playhouse, and there in a box saw The Maiden Queen. Knepp looked upon us, but I durst not show her any countenance; and, as well as I could carry myself, I found my wife uneasy there, poor wretch! therefore, I shall avoid that house as much as I can. So back to my aunt’s, and there supped and talked, and stayed pretty late, it being dry and moonshine, and so walked home, and to bed in very good humour.
. Up, at the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where I find my cabinet come home, and paid for it, and it pleases me and my wife well. So after dinner busy late at the office, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and busy all the morning, getting rooms and dinner ready for my guests, which were my uncle and aunt Wight, and two of their cousins, and an old woman, and Mr. Mills and his wife; and a good dinner, and all our plate out, and mighty fine and merry, only I a little vexed at burning a new tablecloth myself, with one of my trencher-salts.4339 Dinner done, I out with W. Hewer and Mr. Spong, who by accident come to dine with me, and good talk with him: to Whitehall by coach, and there left him, and I with my Lord Brouncker to attend the Duke of York, and then up and down the House till the evening, hearing how the King do intend4340 this frosty weather, it being this day the first, and very hard frost, that hath come this year, and very cold it is. So home; and to supper and read; and there my wife and I treating about coming to an allowance to my wife for clothes; and there I, out of my natural backwardness, did hang off, which vexed her, and did occasion some discontented talk in bed, when we went to bed; and also in the morning, but I did recover all in the morning.
. Lay long, talking with my wife, and did of my own accord come to an allowance of her of £30 a-year for all expenses, clothes and everything, which she was mightily pleased with, it being more than ever she asked or expected, and so rose, with much content, and up with W. Hewer to Whitehall, there to speak with Mr. Wren, which I did about several things of the office entered in my memorandum books, and so about noon, going homeward with W. Hewer, he and I went in and saw the great tall woman that is to be seen, who is but twenty-one years old, and I do easily stand under her arms.4341 Then, going further, The. Turner called me, out of her coach where her mother, etc., was, and invited me by all means to dine with them, at my cousin Roger’s mistress’s, the widow Dickenson.4342 So, I went to them afterwards, and dined with them, and mighty handsomely treated, and she a wonderful merry, good-humoured, fat, but plain woman, but I believe a very good woman, and mighty civil to me. Mrs. Turner,4343 the mother,4344 and Mrs. Dyke,4345 and The., and Betty was the company, and a gentleman of their acquaintance. Betty I did long to see, and she is indifferent pretty, but not what the world did speak of her; but I am mighty glad to have one so pretty of our kindred. After dinner, I walked with them, to show them the great woman, which they admire, as well they may; and so back with them, and left them; and I to Whitehall, where a Committee of Tangier met, but little to do there, but I did receive an instance of the Duke of York’s kindness to me, and the whole Committee, that they would not order anything about the Treasurer for the Corporation now in establishing, without my assent, and considering whether it would be to my wrong or no. Thence up and down the house, and to the Duke of York’s side, and there in the Duchess’s presence; and was mightily complimented by my Lady Peterborough, in my Lord Sandwich’s presence, whom she engaged to thank me for my kindness to her and her Lord. … By and by I met my Lord Brouncker; and he and I to the Duke of York alone, and discoursed over the carriage of the present Treasurers, in opposition to, or at least independency of, the Duke of York, or our Board, which the Duke of York is sensible of, and all remember, I believe; for they do carry themselves very respectlessly of him and us. We also declared our minds together to the Duke of York about Sir John Minnes’s incapacity to do any service in the Office, and that it is but to betray the King to have any business of trust committed to his weakness. So the Duke of York was very sensible of it and promised to speak to the King about it. That done, I with W. Hewer took up my wife at Unthank’s, and so home, and there with pleasure to read and talk, and so to supper, and put into writing, in merry terms, our agreement between my wife and me, about £30 a-year, and so to bed. This was done under both our hands merrily, and put into W. Hewer’s to keep.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, the frost and cold continuing. At noon home with my people to dinner; and so to work at the office again; in the evening comes Creed to me, and tells me his wife is at my house. So I in, and spent an hour with them, the first time she hath been here, or I have seen her, since she was married. She is not overhandsome, though a good lady, and one I love. So after some pleasant discourse, they gone, I to the Office again, and there late, and then home to supper to my wife, who is not very well of those, and so sat talking till past one in the morning, and then to bed.
. Up, and to look after things against dinner today for my guests, and then to the Office to write down my journal for five or six days backward, and so home to look after dinner, it being now almost noon. At noon comes Mrs. Turner and Dyke, and Mrs. Dickenson, and then comes The. and Betty Turner, the latter of which is a very pretty girl; and then Creed and his wife, whom I sent for, by my coach. These were my guests, and Mrs. Turner’s friend, whom I saw the other day, Mr. Wicken, and very merry we were at dinner, and so all the afternoon, talking, and looking up and down my house; and in the evening4346 I did bring out my cake—a noble cake, and there cut it into pieces, with wine and good drink: and after a new fashion, to prevent spoiling the cake, did put so many titles into a hat, and so drew cuts; and I was the Queen; and The. Turner, King—Creed, Sir Martin Marr-all; and Betty, Mrs. Millicent: and so we were mighty merry till it was night; and then, being moonshine and fine frost, they went home, I lending some of them my coach to help to carry them, and so my wife and I spent the rest of the evening in talk and reading, and so with great pleasure to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning, and then at noon home to dinner, and thence my wife and I to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Island Princess,4347 the first time I ever saw it; and it is a pretty good play, many good things being in it, and a good scene of a town on fire. We sat in an upper box, and the jade Nell come and sat in the next box; a bold merry slut, who lay laughing there upon people; and with a comrade of hers of the Duke’s house, that come in to see the play. Thence home and to the office to do some business, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Colonel Middleton, in his coach, and Mr. Tippets to Whitehall; and there attended the Duke of York with the rest, where the Duke was mighty plain with the Treasurers, according to the advice my Lord Brouncker and I did give him the other night, and he did it fully; and so as, I believe, will make the Treasurers careful of themselves, unless they do resolve upon defying the Duke of York. Thence with W. Hewer home, and to dinner, and so out again, my wife and I and Mr. Hater to Whitehall, where she set us down, and she up and down to buy things, while we at the Treasury-Chamber, where I alone did manage the business of The Leopard against the whole Committee of the East India Company,4348 with Mr. Blackburne with them; and to the silencing of them all, to my no great content. Thence walked to my wife, and so set out for home in our coach, it being very cold weather, and so to the office to do a little business, and then home to my wife’s chamber, my people having laid the cloth, and got the rooms all clean above-stairs tonight for our dinner tomorrow, and therefore I to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, and at noon, my Lord Brouncker, Mr. Wren, Joseph Williamson, and Captain Cocke, dined with me; and, being newly sat down, comes in, by invitation of Williamson’s, the Lieutenant of the Tower, and he brings in with him young Mr. Whore, whose father, of the Tower, I know.—And here I had a neat dinner, and all in so good manner and fashion, and with so good company, and everything to my mind, as I never had more in my life—the company being to my heart’s content, and they all well pleased. So continued, looking over my books and closet till the evening, and so I to the Office and did a good deal of business, and so home to supper and to bed with my mind mightily pleased with this day’s management, as one of the days of my life of fullest content.
. Accidentally talking of our maids before we rose, I said a little word that did give occasion to my wife to fall out; and she did most vexatiously, almost all the morning, but ended most perfect good friends; but the thoughts of the unquiet which her ripping up of old faults will give me, did make me melancholy all day long. So about noon, past 12, we rose, and to dinner, and then to read and talk, my wife and I alone, for Balty was gone, who come to dine with us, and then in the evening comes Pelting to sit and talk with us, and so to supper and pretty merry discourse, only my mind a little vexed at the morning’s work, but yet without any appearance. So after supper to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer, my guard, to Whitehall, where no Committee of Tangier met, so up and down the House talking with this and that man, and so home, calling at the New Exchange for a book or two to send to Mr. Shepley and thence home, and thence to the ’Change, and there did a little business, and so walked home to dinner, and then abroad with my wife to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Joviall Crew,4349 but ill acted to what it was heretofore, in Clun’s time, and when Lacy could dance. Thence to the New Exchange, to buy some things; and, among others, my wife did give me my pair of gloves, which, by contract, she is to give me in her £30 a-year. Here Mrs. Smith4350 tells us of the great murder thereabouts, on Saturday last, of one Captain Bumbridge,4351 by one Symons, both of her acquaintance; and hectors that were at play, and in drink: the former is killed, and is kinsman to my Lord of Ormond, which made him speak of it with so much passion, as I overheard him this morning, but could not make anything of it till now, but would they would kill more of them. So home; and there at home all the evening; and made Tom to prick down some little conceits and notions of mine, in music, which do mightily encourage me to spend some more thoughts about it; for I fancy, upon good reason, that I am in the right way of unfolding the mystery of this matter, better than ever yet.
. Up, and to the Office, where, by occasion of a message from the Treasurers that their Board found fault with Commissioner Middleton, I went up from our Board to the Lords of the Treasury to meet our Treasurers, and did, and there did dispute the business, it being about the matter of paying a little money to Chatham Yard, wherein I find the Treasurers mighty supple, and I believe we shall bring them to reason, though they begun mighty upon us, as if we had no power of directing them, but they, us. Thence back presently home, to dinner, where I discern my wife to have been in pain about where I have been, but said nothing to me, but I believe did send W. Hewer to seek me, but I take no notice of it, but am vexed. So to dinner with my people, and then to the Office, where all the afternoon, and did much business, and at it late, and so home to supper, and to bed. This day, meeting Mr. Pierce at Whitehall, he tells me that his boy hath a great mind to see me, and is going to school again; and Dr. Clerke, being by, do tell me that he is a fine boy; but I durst not answer anything, because I durst not invite him to my house, for fear of my wife; and therefore, to my great trouble, was forced to neglect that discourse. But here Mr. Pierce, I asking him whither he was going, told me as a great secret that he was going to his master’s mistress, Mrs. Churchill,4352 with some physic; meaning for the pox I suppose, or else that she is got with child. This evening I observed my wife mighty dull, and I myself was not mighty fond, because of some hard words she did give me at noon, out of a jealousy at my being abroad this morning, which, God knows, it was upon the business of the Office unexpectedly: but I to bed, not thinking but she would come after me. But waking by and by out of a slumber, which I usually fall into presently after my coming into the bed, I found she did not prepare to come to bed, but got fresh candles, and more wood for her fire, it being mighty cold, too. At this being troubled, I after a while prayed her to come to bed, all my people being gone to bed; so, after an hour or two, she silent, and I now and then praying her to come to bed, she fell out into a fury, that I was a rogue, and false to her. But yet I did perceive that she was to seek what to say, only she invented, I believe, a business that I was seen in a hackney coach with the glasses up with Deb., but could not tell the time, nor was sure I was he. I did, as I might truly, deny it, and was mightily troubled, but all would not serve. At last, about one o’clock, she come to my side of the bed, and drew my curtain open, and with the tongs red hot at the ends, made as if she did design to pinch me with them, at which, in dismay, I rose up, and with a few words she laid them down; and did by little and, little, very sillily, let all the discourse fall; and about two, but with much seeming difficulty, come to bed, and there lay well all night, and long in bed talking together, with much pleasure, it being, I know, nothing but her doubt of my going out yesterday, without telling her of my going, which did vex her, poor wretch! last night, and I cannot blame her jealousy, though it do vex me to the heart.
. So up and by coach to Sir W. Coventry’s, but he gone out, so I to Whitehall, and thence walked out into the Park, all in the snow, with the Duke of York and the rest, and so home, after visiting my Lady Peterborough, and there by invitation find Mr. Povy, and there was also Talbot Pepys, newly come from Impington, and dined with me; and after dinner and a little talk with Povy about public matters, he gone, and I and my wife and Talbot towards the Temple, and there to the King’s playhouse, and there saw, I think, The Maiden Queen, and so home and to supper and read, and to bed. This day come home the instrument I have so long longed for, the Parallelogram.
. Up and to the office, where all the morning busy, and so home to dinner, where Goodgroome with us, and after dinner a song, and then to the office, where busy till night, and then home to work there with W. Hewer to get ready some Tangier papers against tomorrow, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry, where with him a good while in his chamber, talking of one thing or another; among others, he told me of the great factions at Court at this day, even to the sober engaging of great persons, and differences, and making the King cheap and ridiculous. It is about my Lady Harvy’s being offended at Doll Common’s acting of Sempronia,4353 to imitate her; for which she got my Lord Chamberlain, her kinsman,4354 to imprison Doll: when my Lady Castlemayne made the King to release her, and to order her to act it again, worse than ever, the other day, where the King himself was: and since it was acted again, and my Lady Harvy provided people to hiss her and fling oranges at her: but, it seems the heat is come to a great height, and real troubles at Court about it. Thence he and I out of doors, but he to Sir J. Duncomb, and I to Whitehall through the Park, where I met the King and the Duke of York, and so walked with them, and so to Whitehall, where the Duke of York met the office and did a little business; and I did give him thanks for his favour to me yesterday, at the Committee of Tangier, in my absence, Mr. Povy having given me advice of it, of the discourse there of doing something as to the putting the payment of the garrison into some undertaker’s hand, Alderman Backewell, which the Duke of York would not suffer to go on, without my presence at the debate. And he answered me just thus: that he ought to have a care of him that do the King’s business in the manner that I do, and words of more force than that. Then down with Lord Brouncker to Sir R. Murray, into the King’s little elaboratory, under his closet, a pretty place; and there saw a great many chymical glasses and things, but understood none of them. So I home and to dinner, and then out again and stop with my wife at my cousin Turner’s where I stayed and sat a while, and carried The. and my wife to the Duke of York’s house, to Macbeth, and myself to Whitehall, to the Lords of the Treasury, about Tangier business; and there was by at much merry discourse between them and my Lord Anglesey, who made sport of our new Treasurers, and called them his deputies, and much of that kind. And having done my own business, I away back, and carried my cousin Turner and sister Dyke to a friend’s house, where they were to sup, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields; and I to the Duke of York’s house and saw the last two acts, and so carried The. thither, and so home with my wife, who read to me late, and so to supper and to bed. This day The. Turner showed me at the play my Lady Portman,4355 who has grown out of my knowledge.
. Up, and to the office all the morning, dined at home with my people, and so all the afternoon till night at the office busy, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning Creed, and in the afternoon comes Povy, to advise with me about my answer to the Lords [Commissioners] of Tangier, about the propositions for the Treasurership there,4356 which I am not much concerned for. But the latter, talking of public things, told me, as Mr. Wren also did, that the Parliament is likely to meets again, the King being frighted with what the Speaker hath put him in mind of—his promise not to prorogue, but only to adjourne them. They speak mighty freely of the folly of the King in this foolish woman’s business, of my Lady Harvy. Povy tells me that Sir W. Coventry was with the King alone, an hour this day; and that my Lady Castlemayne is now in a higher command over the King than ever—not as a mistress, for she scorns him, but as a tyrant, to command him: and says that the Duchess of York and the Duke of York are mighty great with her, which is a great interest to my Lord Chancellor’s family;4357 and that they do agree to hinder all they can the proceedings of the Duke of Buckingham and Arlington: and so we are in the old mad condition, or rather worse than any; no man knowing what the French intend to do the next summer.
. To church myself after seeing everything fitted for dinner, and so, after church, home, and thither comes Mrs. Batelier and her two daughters to dinner to us; and W. Hewer and his mother, and Mr. Spong. We were very civilly merry, and Mrs. Batelier a very discreet woman, but mighty fond in the stories she tells of her son Will. After dinner, Mr. Spong and I to my closet, there to try my instrument Parallelogram, which do mighty well, to my full content; but only a little stiff, as being new. Thence, taking leave of my guests, he and I and W. Hewer to Whitehall, and there parting with Spong, a man that I mightily love for his plainness and ingenuity, I into the Court, and there up and down and spoke with my Lords Bellassis and Peterborough about the business now in dispute, about my deputing a Treasurer to pay the garrison at Tangier, which I would avoid, and not be accountable, and they will serve me therein. Here I met Hugh May, and he brings me to the knowledge of Sir Henry Capell,4358 a Member of Parliament, and brother of my Lord of Essex,4359 who hath a great value, it seems, for me; and they appoint a day to come and dine with me, and see my books, and papers of the Office, which I shall be glad to show them, and have opportunity to satisfy them therein. Here all the discourse is, that now the King is of opinion to have the Parliament called, notwithstanding his late resolutions for proroguing them; so unstable are his councils, and those about him. So staying late talking in the Queen’s side, I away, with W. Hewer home, and there to read and talk with my wife, and so to bed.
. Up by candlelight, and with W. Hewer walked to the Temple, and thence took coach and to Sir William Coventry’s, and there discoursed the business of my Treasurer’s place, at Tangier, wherein he consents to my desire, and concurs therein, which I am glad of, that I may not be accountable for a man so far off. And so I to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there walk with him through the garden,4360 to Whitehall, where he tells me what he had done about this Treasurer’s place, and I perceive the whole thing did proceed from him: that finding it would be best to have the Governor have nothing to do with the pay of the garrison, he did propose to the Duke of York alone that a paymaster should be there; and that being desirous to do a courtesy to Sir Charles Harbord,4361 and to prevent the Duke of York’s looking out for anybody else, he did name him to the Duke of York. That when he come the other day to move this to the Board of Tangier, the Duke of York, it seems, did readily reply, that it was fit to have Mr. Pepys satisfied therein first, and that it was not good to make places for persons. This my Lord in great confidence tells me, that he do take very ill from the Duke of York, though nobody knew the meaning of these words but him; and that he did take no notice of them, but bit his lip, being satisfied that the Duke of York’s care of me was as desirable to him, as it could be to have Sir Charles Harbord: and did seem industrious to let me see that he was glad that the Duke of York and he might come to contend who shall be the kindest to me, which I owned as his great love, and so I hope and believe it is, though my Lord did go a little too far in this business, to move it so far, without consulting me. But I took no notice of that, but was glad to see this competition come about, that my Lord Sandwich is apparently jealous of my thinking that the Duke of York do mean me more kindness than him. So we walked together, and I took this occasion to invite him to dinner one day to my house, and he readily appointed Friday next, which I shall be glad to have over to his content, he having never yet eat a bit of my bread. Thence to the Duke of York on the King’s side, with our Treasurers of the Navy, to discourse some business of the Navy, about the pay of the yards, and there I was taken notice of, many Lords being there in the room, of the Duke of York’s conference with me; and so away, and meeting Mr. Sidney Montagu and Sheres, a small invitation served their turn to carry them to London, where I paid Sheres his £100, given him for his pains in drawing the plate of Tangier fortifications, etc., and so home to my house to dinner, where I had a pretty handsome sudden dinner, and all well pleased; and thence we three and my wife to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Witts, a medley of things, but some similes mighty good, though ill mixed; and thence with my wife to the Exchange and bought some things, and so home, after I had been at Whitehall, and there in the Queen’s withdrawing-room invited my Lord Peterborough to dine with me, with my Lord Sandwich, who readily accepted it. Thence back and took up my wife at the ’Change, and so home. This day at noon I went with my young gentlemen (thereby to get a little time while W. Hewer went home to bid them get a dinner ready) to the Pope’s Head tavern, there to see the fine painted room which Rogerson told me of, of his doing; but I do not like it at all, though it be good for such a public room.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon eat a mouthful, and so with my wife to Madam Turner’s, and find her gone, but The. stayed for us; and so to the King’s house, to see Horace;4362 this the third day of its acting—a silly tragedy; but Lacy hath made a farce of several dances—between each act, one: but his words are but silly, and invention not extraordinary, as to the dances; only some Dutchmen come out of the mouth and tail of a Hamburg sow. Thence, not much pleased with the play, set them at home in the Strand; and my wife and I home, and there to do a little business at the Office, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up; and my wife, and I, and W. Hewer to Whitehall, where she set us down; and there I spoke with my Lord Peterborough, to tell him of the day for his dining with me being altered by my Lord Sandwich from Friday to Saturday next. And thence heard at the Council-board the City, by their single counsel Symson, and the company of Strangers Merchants,4363 a debate the business of water-baylage; a tax demanded upon all goods, by the City, imported and exported: which these Merchants oppose, and demanding leave to try the justice of the City’s demand by a Quo Warranto, which the City opposed, the Merchants did quite lay the City on their backs with great triumph, the City’s cause being apparently too weak: but here I observed Mr. Gold,4364 the merchant, to speak very well, and very sharply, against the City. Thence to my wife at Unthanke’s, and with her and W. Hewer to Hercules Pillars, calling to do two or three things by the way, and there dined, and thence to the Duke of York’s house, and saw Twelfth Night, as it is now revived; but, I think, one of the weakest plays that ever I saw on the stage. This afternoon, before the play, I called with my wife at Dancre’s,4365 the great landscape-painter, by Mr. Povy’s advice; and have bespoke him to come to take measure of my dining room panels, and there I met with the pretty daughter of the coalseller’s, that lived in Cheapside, and now in Covent Garden, who hath her picture drawn here, but very poorly; but she is a pretty woman, and now, I perceive, married, a very pretty black woman. So, the play done, we home, my wife letting fall some words of her observing my eyes to be mightily employed in the playhouse, meaning upon women, which did vex me; but, however, when we come home, we were good friends; and so to read, and to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and walked to the Temple, it being frosty, and there took coach, my boy Tom with me, and so to Whitehall to a Committee of Tangier, where they met, and by and by and till twelve at noon upon business, among others mine, where my desire about being eased of appointing and standing accountable for a Treasurer there was well accepted, and they will think of some other way. This I was glad of, finding reason to doubt that I might in this (since my Lord Sandwich made me understand what he had said to the Duke of York herein) fear to offend either the Duke of York by denying it, for he seemed on Sunday night last, when I first made known my desire to him herein to be a little amused at it, though I knew not then the reason, or else offend my Lord Sandwich by accepting it, or denying it in a manner that might not forward his desire for Sir Charles Harbord, but I thank God I did it to my great content without any offence, I think, to either. Thence in my own coach home, where I find Madam Turner, Dyke, and The., and had a good dinner for them, and merry; and so carried them to the Duke of York’s house, all but Dyke, who went away on other business; and there saw The Tempest; but it is but ill done by Gosnell, in lieu of Moll Davis. Thence set them at home, and my wife and I to the ’Change, and so home, where my wife mighty dogged, and I vexed to see it, being mightily troubled, of late, at her being out of humour, for fear of her discovering any new matter of offence against me, though I am conscious of none; but do hate to be unquiet at home. So, late up, silent, and not supping, but hearing her utter some words of discontent to me with silence, and so to bed, weeping to myself for grief, which she discerning, come to bed, and mighty kind, and so with great joy on both sides to sleep.
. Up, and with W. Hewer to Whitehall, and there attended the Duke of York, and thence to the Exchange, in the way calling at several places on occasions relating to my feast tomorrow, on which my mind is now set; as how to get a new looking-glass for my dining room, and some pewter, and good wine, against tomorrow; and so home, where I had the looking-glass set up, cost me £6 7s. 6d. And here at the ’Change I met with Mr. Dancre, the famous landscape painter, with whom I was on Wednesday; and he took measure of my panels in my dining room, where, in the four, I intend to have the four houses of the King, Whitehall, Hampton Court, Greenwich, and Windsor. He gone, I to dinner with my people, and so to my office to dispatch a little business, and then home to look after things against tomorrow, and among other things was mightily pleased with the fellow that come to lay the cloth, and fold the napkins, which I like so well, as that I am resolved to give him 40s. to teach my wife to do it. So to supper, with much kindness between me and my wife, which, nowadays, is all my care, and so to bed.
. Up, and again to look after the setting things right against dinner, which I did to very good content. So to the office, where all the morning till noon, when word brought me to the Board that my Lord Sandwich was come; so I presently rose, leaving the Board ready to rise, and there I found my Lord Sandwich, Peterborough, and Sir Charles Harbord; and presently after them comes my Lord Hinchingbroke, Mr. Sidney,4366 and Sir William Godolphin. And after greeting them, and some time spent in talk, dinner was brought up, one dish after another, but a dish at a time, but all so good; but, above all things, the variety of wines, and excellent of their kind, I had for them, and all in so good order, that they were mightily pleased, and myself full of content at it: and indeed it was, of a dinner of about six or eight dishes, as noble as any man need to have, I think; at least, all was done in the noblest manner that ever I had any, and I have rarely seen in my life better anywhere else, even at the Court. After dinner, my Lords to cards, and the rest of us sitting about them and talking, and looking on my books and pictures, and my wife’s drawings, which they commend mightily; and mighty merry all day long, with exceeding great content, and so till seven at night; and so took their leaves, it being dark and foul weather. Thus was this entertainment over, the best of its kind, and the fullest of honour and content to me, that ever I had in my life: and shall not easily have so good again. The truth is, I have some fear that I am more behindhand in the world for these last two years, since I have not, or for some time could not, look after my accounts, which do a little allay my pleasure. But I do trust in God I am pretty well yet, and resolve, in a very little time, to look into my accounts, and see how they stand. So to my wife’s chamber, and there supped, and got her cut my hair and look my shirt, for I have itched mightily these 6 or 7 days, and when all comes to all she finds that I am lousy, having found in my head and body about twenty lice, little and great, which I wonder at, being more than I have had I believe these 20 years. I did think I might have got them from the little boy, but they did presently look him, and found none. So how they come I know not, but presently did shift myself, and so shall be rid of them, and cut my hair close to my head, and so with much content to bed.
. An order brought me in bed, for the Principal Officers to attend the King at my Lord Keeper’s this afternoon, it being resolved late the last night; and, by the warrant, I find my Lord Keeper did not then know the cause of it, the messenger being ordered to call upon him, to tell it him by the way, as he come to us. So I up, and to my Office to set down my Journal for yesterday, and so home, and with my wife to Church, and then home, and to dinner, and after dinner out with my wife by coach, to cousin Turner’s, where she and The. gone to church, but I left my wife with Mrs. Dyke and Joyce Norton, whom I have not seen till now since their coming to town: she is become an old woman, and with as cunning a look as ever, and thence I to Whitehall, and there walked up and down till the King and Duke of York were ready to go forth; and here I met Will. Batelier, newly come post from France, his boots all dirty. He brought letters to the King, and I glad to see him, it having been reported that he was drowned, for some days past, and then, he being gone, I to talk with Tom Killigrew, who told me and others, talking about the playhouse, that he is fain to keep a woman on purpose at 20s. a week to satisfy 8 or 10 of the young men of his house, whom till he did so he could never keep to their business, and now he do. By and by the King comes out, and so I took coach, and followed his coaches to my Lord Keeper’s, at Essex House,4367 where I never was before, since I saw my old Lord Essex lie in state when he was dead; a large, but ugly house. Here all the Officers of the Navy attended, and by and by were called in to the King and Cabinet, where my Lord, who was ill, did lie upon the bed, as my old Lord Treasurer, or Chancellor, heretofore used to; and the business was to know in what time all the King’s ships might be repaired, fit for service. The Surveyor answered, in two years, and not sooner. I did give them hopes that, with supplies of money suitable, we might have them all fit for sea some part of the summer after this. Then they demanded in what time we could set out forty ships. It was answered, as they might be chosen of the newest and most ready, we could, with money, get forty ready against May. The King seemed mighty full that we should have money to do all that we desired, and satisfied that, without it, nothing could be done: and so, without determining anything, we were dismissed; and I doubt all will end in some little fleet this year, and those of hired merchantmen, which would indeed be cheaper to the King, and have many conveniences attending it, more than to fit out the King’s own; and this, I perceive, is designed, springing from Sir W. Coventry’s counsel; and the King and most of the Lords, I perceive, full of it, to get the King’s fleet all at once in condition for service. Thence I with Mr. Wren in his coach to my cousin Turner’s for discourse sake, and in our way he told me how the business of the Parliament is wholly laid aside, it being overruled now, that they shall not meet, but must be prorogued, upon this argument chiefly, that all the differences between the two Houses, and things on foot, that were matters of difference and discontent, may be laid aside, and must begin again, if ever the House shall have a mind to pursue them. They must begin all anew. Here he set me down, and I to my cousin Turner, and stayed and talked a little; and so took my wife, and home, and there to make her read, and then to supper, and to bed. At supper come W. Batelier and supped with us, and told us many pretty things of France, and the greatness of the present King.
. Up, and to the Committee of Tangier, where little done, and thence I home by my own coach, and busy after dinner at my office all the afternoon till late at night, that my eyes were tired. So home, and my wife showed me many excellent prints of Nanteuil’s4368 and others, which W. Batelier hath, at my desire, brought me out of France, of the King, and Colbert, and others, most excellent, to my great content. But he hath also brought a great many gloves perfumed, of several sorts; but all too big by half for her, and yet she will have two or three dozen of them, which vexed me, and made me angry. So she, at last, to please me, did come to take what alone I thought fit, which pleased me. So, after a little supper, to bed, my eyes being very bad.
. Up, and to the office, where busy sitting all the morning. Then to the Office again, and then to Whitehall, leaving my wife at Unthanke’s; and I to the Secretary’s chamber, where I was, by particular order, this day summoned to attend, as I find Sir D. Gawden also was. And here was the King and the Cabinet met; and, being called in, among the rest I find my Lord Privy Seale, whom I never before knew to be in so much play, as to be of the Cabinet. The business is, that the Algerines have broke the peace with us, by taking some Spaniards and goods out of an English ship, which had the Duke of York’s pass, of which advice come this day; and the King is resolved to stop Sir Thomas Allen’s fleet from coming home till he hath amends made him for this affront, and therefore sent for us to advise about victuals to be sent to that fleet, and some more ships; wherein I answered them to what they demanded of me, which was but some few mean things; but I see that on all these occasions they seem to rely most upon me. And so, this being done, I took coach and took up my wife and straight home, and there late at the office busy, and then home, and there I find W. Batelier hath also sent the books which I made him bring me out of France. Among others, L’Estat de France, Marnix,4369 etc., to my great content; and so I was well pleased with them, and shall take a time to look them over: as also one or two printed music-books of songs; but my eyes are now too much out of tune to look upon them with any pleasure, therefore to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with Sir John Minnes in his coach to Whitehall, where first we waited on the Lords of the Treasury about finishing the Victualling Contract; and there also I was put to it to make good our letter complaining against my Lord Anglesey’s failing us in the payment of the moneys assigned us upon the Customs, where Mr. Fenn was, and I know will tell my Lord; but it is no matter, I am over shy already, and therefore must not fear. Then we up to a Committee of the Council for the Navy, about a business of Sir D. Gawden’s relating to the Victualling, and thence I by hackney to the Temple to the Auditor’s man, and with him to a tavern to meet with another under-auditor to advise about the clearing of my Lord Bellasses’ accounts without injuring myself and perplexing my accounts, and so thence away to my cousin Turner’s, where I find Roger Pepys come last night to town, and here is his mistress, Mrs. Dickenson, and by and by comes in Mr. Turner, a worthy, sober, serious man—I honour him mightily. And there we dined, having but an ordinary dinner; and so, after dinner, she, and I, and Roger, and his mistress, to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Five Hours’ Adventure, which hath not been acted a good while before, but once, and is a most excellent play, I must confess. My wife and The. come after us, after they had been to buy some things abroad, and so after the play done we to see them home, and then home ourselves, and my wife to read to me, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the afternoon, also after dinner, and there late dispatching much business, and then home to supper with my wife, and to get her to read to me, and here I did find that Mr. Sheres hath, beyond his promise, not only got me a candlestick made me, after a form he remembers to have seen in Spain, for keeping the light from one’s eyes, but hath got it done in silver very neat, and designs to give it me, in thanks for my paying him his £100 in money, for his service at Tangier, which was ordered him; but I do intend to force him to make me [pay] for it. But I yet, without his direction, cannot tell how it is to be made use of. So after a little reading to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer in Colonel Middleton’s coach to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York, to attend him, where among other things I did give a severe account of our proceedings, and what we found, in the business of Sir W. Jenings’s demand of Supernumeraries. I thought it a good occasion to make an example of him, for he is a proud, idle fellow; and it did meet with the Duke of York’s acceptance and well-liking; and he did call him in, after I had done, and did not only give him a soft rebuke, but condemns him to pay both their victuals and wages, or right himself of the purser. This I was glad of, and so were all the rest of us, though I know I have made myself an immortal enemy by it. Thence home by hackney, calling Roger Pepys at the Temple gate in the bookseller’s shop, and to the Old Exchange, where I stayed a little to invite my uncle Wight, and so home, and there find my aunt Wight and her husband come presently, and so to dinner; and after dinner Roger, and I, and my wife, and aunt, to see Mr. Cole; but he nor his wife was within, but we looked upon his picture of Cleopatra, which I went principally to see, being so much commended by my wife and aunt; but I find it a base copy of a good originall, that vexed me to hear so much commended. Thence to see Creed’s wife, and did so, and stayed a while, where both of them within; and here I met Mr. Bland, newly come from Cales [Cadiz] after his differences with Norwood.4370 I think him a foolish, lightheaded man; but certainly he hath been abused in this matter by Colonel Norwood. Here Creed showed me a copy of some propositions, which Bland and others, in the name of the Corporation of Tangier, did present to Norwood, for his opinion in, in order to the King’s service, which were drawn up very humbly, and were really good things; but his answer to them was in the most shitten proud, carping, insolent, and ironically-profane stile, that ever I saw in my life, so as I shall never think the place can do well, while he is there. Here, after some talk, and Creed’s telling us that he is upon taking the next house to his present lodgings, which is next to that that my cousin Tom Pepys once lived in, in Newport Street, in Covent Garden; and is in a good place, and then, I suppose, he will keep his coach. So, setting Roger down at the Temple, who tells me that he is now concluded in all matters with his widow, we home, and there hired my wife to make an end of Boyle’s Book of Formes, tonight and tomorrow; and so fell to read and sup, and then to bed. This day, Mr. Ned Pickering brought his lady to see my wife, in acknowledgment of a little present of oranges and olives, which I sent her, for his kindness to me in the buying of my horses, which was very civil. She is old, but hath, I believe, been a pretty comely woman.4371
. Lay long in bed, it being a fast-day for the murder of the late King; and so up and to church, where Dr. Hicks made a dull sermon; and so home, and there I find W. Batelier and Balty, and they dined with us, and I spent all the afternoon with my wife and W. Batelier talking, and then making them read, and particularly made an end of Mr. Boyle’s Book of Formes, which I am glad to have over, and then fell to read a French discourse, which he hath brought over with him for me, to invite the people of France to apply themselves to Navigation, which it do very well, and is certainly their interest, and what will undo us in a few years, if the King of France goes on to fit up his Navy, and increase it and his trade, as he hath begun. At night to supper, and after supper, and W. Batelier gone, my wife begun another book I lately bought, called The State of England,4372 which promises well, and is worth reading, and so after a while to bed.
. Lay long talking with pleasure, and so up and I to church, and there did hear the Doctor that is lately turned Divine, I have forgot his name, I met him a while since at Sir D. Gawden’s at dinner, Dr. Waterhouse.4373 He preaches in a devout manner of way, not elegant nor very persuasive, but seems to mean well, and that he would preach holily; and was mighty passionate against people that make a scoff of religion. And, the truth is, I did observe Mrs. Hollworthy smile often, and many others of the parish, who, I perceive, have known him, and were in mighty expectation of hearing him preach, but could not forbear smiling, and she particularly upon me, and I on her. So home to dinner: and before dinner to my Office, to set down my journal for this week, and then home to dinner; and after dinner to get my wife and boy, one after another, to read to me: and so spent the afternoon and the evening, and so after supper to bed. And thus endeth this month, with many different days of sadness and mirth, from differences between me and my wife, from her remembrance of my late unkindness to her with Willet, she not being able to forget it, but now and then hath her passionate remembrance of it as often as prompted to it by any occasion; but this night we are at present very kind. And so ends this month.
February 1668–69
. Up, and by water from the Tower to Whitehall, the first time that I have gone to that end of the town by water, for two or three months, I think, since I kept a coach, which God send propitious to me; but it is a very great convenience. I went to a Committee of Tangier, but it did not meet, and so I meeting Mr. Povy, he and I away to Dancre’s, to speak something touching the pictures I am getting him to make for me. And thence he carried me to Mr. Streeter’s,4374 the famous history-painter over the way, whom I have often heard of, but did never see him before; and there I found him, and Dr. Wren,4375 and several Virtuosos, looking upon the paintings which he is making for the new Theatre at Oxford: and, indeed, they look as if they would be very fine, and the rest think better than those of Rubens in the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, but I do not so fully think so.4376 But they will certainly be very noble; and I am mightily pleased to have the fortune to see this man and his work, which is very famous; and he a very civil little man, and lame, but lives very handsomely. So thence to my Lord Bellassis, and met him within: my business only to see a chimneypiece of Dancre’s doing, in distemper, with egg to keep off the glaring of the light, which I must have done for my room: and indeed it is pretty, but, I must confess, I do think it is not altogether so beautiful as the oil pictures; but I will have some of one, and some of another. Thence set him down at Little Turnstile, and so I home, and there eat a little dinner, and away with my wife by coach to the King’s playhouse, thinking to have seen The Heiress,4377 first acted on Saturday last; but when we come thither, we find no play there; Kinaston, that did act a part therein, in abuse to Sir Charles Sedley, being last night exceedingly beaten with sticks, by two or three that assaulted him, so as he is mightily bruised, and forced to keep his bed.4378 So we to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw She Would if She Could, and so home and to my office to business, and then to supper and to bed. This day, going to the play, The. Turner met us, and carried us to her mother, at my Lady Mordaunt’s; and I did carry both mother and daughter with us to the Duke of York’s playhouse, at next door.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and home to dinner at noon, where I find Mr. Sheres; and there made a short dinner, and carried him with us to the King’s playhouse, where The Heiress, notwithstanding Kinaston’s being beaten, is acted; and they say the King is very angry with Sir Charles Sedley for his being beaten, but he do deny it. But his part is done by Beeston, who is fain to read it out of a book all the while, and thereby spoils the part, and almost the play, it being one of the best parts in it; and though the design is, in the first conception of it, pretty good, yet it is but an indifferent play, wrote, they say, by my Lord Newcastle. But it was pleasant to see Beeston come in with others, supposing it to be dark, and yet he is forced to read his part by the light of the candles: and this I observing to a gentleman that sat by me, he was mightily pleased therewith, and spread it up and down. But that, that pleased me most in the play is, the first song that Knepp sings, she singing three or four; and, indeed, it was very finely sung, so as to make the whole house clap her. Thence carried Sheres to Whitehall, and there I stepped in, and looked out Mr. May, who tells me that he and his company cannot come to dine with me tomorrow, whom I expected only to come to see the manner of our Office and books, at which I was not very much displeased, having much business at the Office, and so away home, and there to the office about my letters, and then home to supper and to bed, my wife being in mighty ill humour all night, and in the morning I found it to be from her observing Knepp to wink and smile on me; and she says I smiled on her; and, poor wretch! I did perceive that she did, and do on all such occasions, mind my eyes. I did, with much difficulty, pacify her, and were friends, she desiring that hereafter, at that house, we might always sit either above in a box, or, if there be [no] room, close up to the lower boxes.
. So up, and to the Office till noon, and then home to a little dinner, and thither again till night, mighty busy, to my great content, doing a great deal of business, and so home to supper, and to bed; I finding this day that I may be able to do a great deal of business by dictating, if I do not read myself, or write, without spoiling my eyes, I being very well in my eyes after a great day’s work.
. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon home with my people to dinner, and then after dinner comes Mr. Spong to see me, and brings me my Parallelogram, in better order than before, and two or three draughts of the port of Brest, to my great content, and I did call Mr. Gibson to take notice of it, who is very much pleased therewith; and it seems this Parallelogram is not, as Mr. Sheres would, the other day, have persuaded me, the same as a Protractor,4379 which do so much the more make me value it, but of itself it is a most useful instrument. Thence out with my wife and him, and carried him to an instrument-maker’s shop in Chancery Lane, that was once a ’prentice of Greatorex’s, but the master was not within, and there he [Gibson] showed me a Parallelogram in brass, which I like so well that I will buy, and therefore bid it be made clean and fit for me. And so to my cousin Turner’s, and there just spoke with The., the mother not being at home; and so to the New Exchange, and thence home to my letters; and so home to supper and to bed. This morning I made a slip from the Office to Whitehall, expecting Povy’s business at a Committee of Tangier, at which I would be, but it did not meet, and so I presently back.
. Up betimes, by coach to Sir W. Coventry’s, and with him by coach to Whitehall, and there walked in the garden talking of several things, and by my visit to keep fresh my interest in him; and there he tells me how it hath been talked that he was to go one of the Commissioners to Ireland, which he was resolved never to do, unless directly commanded; for he told me that for to go thither, while the Chief Secretary of State was his professed enemy, was to undo himself; and, therefore, it were better for him to venture being unhappy here, than to go further off, to be undone by some obscure instructions, or whatever other way of mischief his enemies should cut out for him. He mighty kind to me, and so parted, and thence home, calling in two or three places—among others, Dancre’s, where I find him beginning of a piece for me, of Greenwich, which will please me well, and so home to dinner, and very busy all the afternoon, and so at night home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and thence after dinner to the King’s playhouse, and there—in an upper box, where come in Colonel Poynton4380 and Doll Stacey, who is very fine, and, by her wedding-ring, I suppose he hath married her at last—did see The Moor of Venice: but ill acted in most parts; Mohun, which did a little surprise me, not acting Iago’s part by much so well as Clun used to do; nor another Hart’s, which was Cassio’s; nor, indeed, Burt doing the Moor’s so well as I once thought he did. Thence home, and just at Holborn Conduit the bolt broke, that holds the fore-wheels to the perch, and so the horses went away with them, and left the coachman and us; but being near our coachmaker’s, and we staying in a little ironmonger’s shop, we were presently supplied with another, and so home, and there to my letters at the office, and so to supper and to bed.
. My wife mighty peevish in the morning about my lying unquietly a-nights, and she will have it that it is a late practice, from my evil thoughts in my dreams, … and mightily she is troubled about it; but all blew over, and I up, and to church, and so home to dinner, where she in a worse fit, which lasted all the afternoon, and shut herself up, in her closet, and I mightily grieved and vexed, and could not get her to tell me what ayled her, or to let me into her closet, but at last she did, where I found her crying on the ground, and I could not please her; but I did at last find that she did plainly expound it to me. It was, that she did believe me false to her with Jane, and did rip up three or four silly circumstances of her not rising till I come out of my chamber, and her letting me thereby see her dressing herself; and that I must needs go into her chamber and was naught with her; which was so silly, and so far from truth, that I could not be troubled at it, though I could not wonder at her being troubled, if she had these thoughts, and therefore she would lie from me, and caused sheets to be put on in the blue room, and would have Jane to lie with her lest I should come to her. At last, I did give her such satisfaction, that we were mighty good friends, and went to bed betimes. …
. Up, and dressed myself; and by coach, with W. Hewer and my wife, to Whitehall, where she set us two down; and in the way, our little boy, at Martin, my bookseller’s shop, going to ’light, did fall down; and, had he not been a most nimble boy (I saw how he did it, and was mightily pleased with him for it), he had been run over by the coach. I to visit my Lord Sandwich; and there, while my Lord was dressing himself, did see a young Spaniard, that he hath brought over with him, dance, which he is admired for, as the best dancer in Spain, and indeed he do with mighty mastery; but I do not like his dancing as the English, though my Lord commends it mightily: but I will have him to my house, and show it my wife. Here I met with Mr. Moore, who tells me the state of my Lord’s accounts of his embassy, which I find not so good as I thought: for, though it be passed the King and his Cabal (the Committee for Foreign Affairs as they are called), yet they have cut off from £9,000 full £8,000, and have now sent it to the Lords of the Treasury, who, though the Committee have allowed the rest, yet they are not obliged to abide by it. So that I do fear this account may yet be long ere it be passed—much more, ere that sum be paid: I am sorry for the family, and not a little for what it owes me. So to my wife, took her up at Unthank’s, and in our way home did show her the tall woman in Holborne, which I have seen before; and I measured her, and she is, without shoes, just six feet five inches high, and they say not above twenty-one years old. Thence home, and there to dinner, and my wife in a wonderful ill humour; and, after dinner, I stayed with her alone, being not able to endure this life, and fell to some angry words together; but by and by were mighty good friends, she telling me plain it was still about Jane, whom she cannot believe but I am base with, which I made a matter of mirth at; but at last did call up Jane, and confirm her mistress’s directions for her being gone at Easter, which I find the wench willing to be, but directly prayed that Tom might go with her, which I promised, and was but what I designed; and she being thus spoke with, and gone, my wife and I good friends, and mighty kind, I having promised, and I will perform it, never to give her for the time to come ground of new trouble; and so I to the Office, with a very light heart, and there close at my business all the afternoon. This day I was told by Mr. Wren, that Captain Cox,4381 Master-Attendant at Deptford, is to be one of us very soon, he and Tippets4382 being to take their turns for Chatham and Portsmouth, which choice I like well enough; and Captain Annesley is to come in his room at Deptford. This morning also, going to visit Roger Pepys, at the potticary’s in King’s Street, he tells me that Roger is gone to his wife’s, so that they have been married, as he tells me, ever since the middle of last week: it was his design, upon good reasons, to make no noise of it; but I am well enough contented that it is over. Dispatched a great deal of business at the office, and there pretty late, till finding myself very full of wind, by my eating no dinner today, being vexed, I was forced to go home, and there supped W. Batelier with us, and so with great content to bed.
. Up, and all the morning busy at the office, and after dinner abroad with my wife to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Island Princess, which I like mighty well, as an excellent play: and here we find Kinaston to be well enough to act again, which he do very well, after his beating by Sir Charles Sedley’s appointment; and so thence home, and there to my business at the Office, and after my letters done, then home to supper and to bed, my mind being mightily eased by my having this morning delivered to the Office a letter of advice about our answers to the Commissioners of Accounts, whom we have neglected, and I have done this as a record in my justification hereafter, when it shall come to be examined.
. Up, and with my wife and W. Hewer, she set us down at Whitehall, where the Duke of York was gone a-hunting: and so, after I had done a little business there, I to my wife, and with her to the plaisterer’s at Charing Cross, that casts heads and bodies in plaister: and there I had my whole face done; but I was vexed first to be forced to daub all my face over with pomatum: but it was pretty to feel how soft and easily it is done on the face, and by and by, by degrees, how hard it becomes, that you cannot break it, and sits so close, that you cannot pull it off, and yet so easy, that it is as soft as a pillow, so safe is everything where many parts of the body do bear alike. Thus was the mould made; but when it came off there was little pleasure in it, as it looks in the mould, nor any resemblance whatever there will be in the figure, when I come to see it cast off, which I am to call for a day or two hence, which I shall long to see. Thence to Hercules Pillars, and there my wife and W. Hewer and I dined, and back to Whitehall, where I stayed till the Duke of York come from hunting, which he did by and by, and, when dressed, did come out to dinner; and there I waited: and he did tell me that tomorrow was to be the great day that the business of the Navy would be discoursed of before the King and his Caball, and that he must stand on his guard, and did design to have had me in readiness by, but that upon second thoughts did think it better to let it alone, but they are now upon entering into the economical part of the Navy. Here he dined, and did mightily magnify his sauce, which he did then eat with everything, and said it was the best universal sauce in the world, it being taught him by the Spanish Embassador;4383 made of some parsley and a dry toast, beat in a mortar, together with vinegar, salt, and a little pepper: he eats it with flesh, or fowl, or fish: and then he did now mightily commend some new sort of wine lately found out, called Navarre wine, which I tasted, and is, I think, good wine: but I did like better the notion of the sauce, and by and by did taste it, and liked it mightily. After dinner, I did what I went for, which was to get his consent that Balty might hold his Muster-Master’s place by deputy, in his new employment which I design for him, about the Storekeeper’s accounts; which the Duke of York did grant me, and I was mighty glad of it. Thence home, and there I find Povy and W. Batelier, by appointment, met to talk of some merchandise of wine and linen; but I do not like of their troubling my house to meet in, having no mind to their pretences of having their rendezvous here, but, however, I was not much troubled, but went to the office, and there very busy, and did much business till late at night, and so home to supper, and with great pleasure to bed. This day, at dinner, I sent to Mr. Spong to come to me to Hercules Pillars, who come to us, and there did bring with him my new Parallelogram of brass, which I was mightily pleased with, and paid for it 25s., and am mightily pleased with his ingenious and modest company.
. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, and at noon home and heard that the last night Colonel Middleton’s wife4384 died, a woman I never saw since she come hither, having never been within their house since. Home at noon to dinner, and thence to work all the afternoon with great pleasure, and did bring my business to a very little compass in my day book, which is a mighty pleasure, and so home to supper and get my wife to read to me, and then to bed.
. Up, and my wife with me to Whitehall, and Tom, and there she sets us down, and there to wait on the Duke of York, with the rest of us, at the Robes, where the Duke of York did tell us that the King would have us prepare a draught of the present administration of the Navy, and what it was in the late times, in order to his being able to distinguish between the good and the bad, which I shall do, but to do it well will give me a great deal of trouble. Here we showed him Sir J. Minnes’s propositions about balancing Storekeeper’s accounts; and I did show him Hosier’s, which did please him mightily, and he will have it showed the Council and King anon, to be put in practice. Thence to the Treasurer’s; and I and Sir J. Minnes and Mr. Tippets down to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, and there had a hot debate from Sir Thomas Clifford and my Lord Ashly (the latter of which, I hear, is turning about as fast as he can to the Duke of Buckingham’s side, being in danger, it seems, of being otherwise out of play, which would not be convenient for him), against Sir W. Coventry and Sir J. Duncomb, who did uphold our Office against an accusation of our Treasurers, who told the Lords that they found that we had run the King in debt £50,000 or more, more than the money appointed for the year would defray, which they declared like fools, and with design to hurt us, though the thing is in itself ridiculous. But my Lord Ashly and Clifford did most horribly cry out against the want of method in the Office. At last it come that it should be put in writing what they had to object; but I was devilish mad at it, to see us thus wounded by our own members, and so away vexed, and called my wife, and to Hercules Pillars, Tom and I, there dined; and here there coming a Frenchman by with his Show, we did make him show it us, which he did just as Lacy acts it, which made it mighty pleasant to me. So after dinner we away and to Dancre’s, and there saw our picture of Greenwich in doing,4385 which is mighty pretty, and so to Whitehall, my wife to Unthank’s, and I attended with Lord Brouncker the King and Council, about the proposition of balancing Storekeeper’s accounts and there presented Hosier’s book, and it was mighty well resented4386 and approved of. So the Council being up, we to the Queen’s side with the King and Duke of York: and the Duke of York did take me out to talk of our Treasurers, whom he is mighty angry with: and I perceive he is mighty desirous to bring in as many good motions of profit and reformation in the Navy as he can, before the Treasurers do light upon them, they being desirous, it seems, to be thought the great reformers: and the Duke of York do well. But to my great joy he is mighty open to me in everything; and by this means I know his whole mind, and shall be able to secure myself, if he stands. Here tonight I understand, by my Lord Brouncker, that at last it is concluded on by the King and Buckingham that my Lord of Ormond shall not hold his government of Ireland, which is a great stroke, to show the power of Buckingham and the poor spirit of the King, and little hold that any man can have of him. Thence I homeward, and calling my wife called at my cousin Turner’s, and there met our new cousin Pepys (Mrs. Dickenson), and Bab.4387 and Betty4388 come yesterday to town, poor girls, whom we have reason to love, and mighty glad we are to see them; and there stayed and talked a little, being also mightily pleased to see Betty Turner, who is now in town, and her brothers Charles and Will, being come from school to see their father, and there talked a while, and so home, and there Pelling hath got me W. Penn’s book against the Trinity.4389 I got my wife to read it to me; and I find it so well writ as, I think, it is too good for him ever to have writ it; and it is a serious sort of book, and not fit for everybody to read. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and at noon home to dinner, and thence to the office again mighty busy, to my great content, till night, and then home to supper and, my eyes being weary, to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry, and there, he taking physic, I with him all the morning, full of very good discourse of the Navy and public matters, to my great content, wherein I find him doubtful that all will be bad, and, for his part, he tells me he takes no more care for anything more than in the Treasury; and that, that being done, he goes to cards and other delights, as plays, and in summertime to bowls. But here he did show me two or three old books of the Navy, of my Lord Northumberland’s4390 times, which he hath taken many good notes out of, for justifying the Duke of York and us, in many things, wherein, perhaps, precedents will be necessary to produce, which did give me great content. At noon home, and pleased mightily with my morning’s work, and coming home, I do find a letter from Mr. Wren, to call me to the Duke of York after dinner. So dined in all haste, and then W. Hewer and my wife and I out, we set her at my cousin Turner’s while we to Whitehall, where the Duke of York expected me; and in his closet Wren and I. He did tell me how the King hath been acquainted with the Treasurers’4391 discourse at the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, the other day, and is dissatisfied with our running him in debt, which I removed; and he did, carry me to the King, and I did satisfy him also; but his satisfaction is nothing worth, it being easily got, and easily removed; but I do purpose to put in writing that which shall make the Treasurers ashamed. But the Duke of York is horrid angry against them; and he hath cause, for they do all they can to bring dishonour upon his management, as do vainly appear in all they do. Having done with the Duke of York, who do repose all in me, I with Mr. Wren to his chamber, to talk; where he observed, that these people are all of them a broken sort of people, that have not much to lose, and therefore will venture all to make their fortunes better: that Sir Thomas Osborne is a beggar, having 11 or £1,200 a-year, but owes above £10,000. The Duke of Buckingham’s condition is shortly this: that he hath about £19,600 a-year, of which he pays away about £7,000 a-year in interest, about £2,000 in fee-farm rents to the King, about £6,000 wages and pensions, and the rest to live upon, and pay taxes for the whole. Wren says, that for the Duke of York to stir in this matter, as his quality might justify, would but make all things worse, and that therefore he must bend, and suffer all, till time works it out: that he fears they will sacrifice the Church, and that the King will take anything, and so he will hold up his head a little longer, and then break in pieces. But Sir W. Coventry did today mightily magnify my late Lord Treasurer,4392 for a wise and solid, though infirm man: and, among other things, that when he hath said it was impossible in nature to find this or that sum of money, and my Lord Chancellor4393 hath made sport of it, and tell the King that when my Lord hath said it [was] impossible, yet he hath made shift to find it, and that was by Sir G. Carteret’s getting credit, my Lord did once in his hearing say thus, which he magnifies as a great saying—that impossible would be found impossible at last; meaning that the King would run himself out, beyond all his credit and funds, and then we should too late find it impossible; which is, he says, now come to pass. For that Sir W. Coventry says they could borrow what money they would, if they had assignments, and funds to secure it with, which before they had enough of, and then must spend it as if it would never have an end. From Whitehall to my cousin Turner’s, and there took up my wife; and so to my uncle Wight’s, and there sat and supped, and talked pretty merry, and then walked home, and to bed.
. Up, and with Tom to Whitehall; and there at a Committee of Tangier, where a great instance of what a man may lose by the neglect of a friend: Povy never had such an opportunity of passing his accounts, the Duke of York being there, and everybody well disposed, and in expectation of them; but my Lord Ashly, on whom he relied, and for whose sake this day was pitched on, that he might be sure to be there, among the rest of his friends, stayed too long, till the Duke of York and the company thought unfit to stay longer and so the day lost, and God knows when he will ever have so good a one again, as long as he lives; and this was the man of the whole company that he hath made the most interest to gain, and now most depended upon him. So up and down the house a while, and then to the plaisterer’s, and there saw the figure of my face taken from the mould: and it is most admirably like, and I will have another made, before I take it away, and therefore I away and to the Temple, and thence to my cousin Turner’s, where, having the last night been told by her that she had drawn me for her Valentine, I did this day call at the New Exchange, and bought her a pair of green silk stockings4394 and garters and shoestrings, and two pair of jessimy gloves, all coming to about 28s., and did give them her this noon. At the ’Change, I did at my bookseller’s shop accidentally fall into talk with Sir Samuel Tuke4395 about trees, and Mr. Evelyn’s garden; and I do find him, I think, a little conceited, but a man of very fine discourse as any I ever heard almost, which I was mighty glad of. I dined at my cousin Turner’s, and my wife also and her husband there, and after dinner, my wife and I endeavoured to make a visit to Ned Pickering; but he not at home, nor his lady; and therefore back again, and took up my cousin Turner, and to my cousin Roger’s lodgings, and there find him pretty well again, and his wife mighty kind and merry, and did make mighty much of us, and I believe he is married to a very good woman. Here was also Bab. and Betty, who have not their clothes yet, and therefore cannot go out, otherwise I would have had them abroad tomorrow; but the poor girls mighty kind to us, and we must show them kindness also. Here in Suffolk Street lives Moll Davis; and we did see her coach come for her to her door, a mighty pretty fine coach. Here we stayed an hour or two, and then carried Turner home, and there stayed and talked a while, and then my wife and I to Whitehall; and there, by means of Mr. Cooling, did get into the play, the only one we have seen this winter: it was The Five Hours’ Adventure: but I sat so far I could not hear well, nor was there any pretty woman that I did see, but my wife, who sat in my Lady Fox’s pew4396 with her. The house very full; and late before done, so that it was past eleven before we got home. But we were well pleased with seeing it, and so to supper, where it happened that there was no bread in the house, which was an unusual case, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, my head full of business of the office now at once on my hands, and so at noon home to dinner, where I find some things of W. Batelier’s come out of France, among which some clothes for my wife, wherein she is likely to lead me to the expense of so much money as vexed me; but I seemed so, more than I at this time was, only to prevent her taking too much, and she was mighty calm under it. But I was mightily pleased with another picture of the King of France’s head, of Nanteuil’s, bigger than the other which he brought over, that pleases me infinitely: and so to the Office, where busy all the afternoon, though my eyes mighty bad with the light of the candles last night, which was so great as to make my eyes sore all this day, and do teach me, by a manifest experiment, that it is only too much light that do make my eyes sore. Nevertheless, with the help of my tube, and being desirous of easing my mind of five or six days journal, I did venture to write it down from ever since this day sennight, and I think without hurting my eyes any more than they were before, which was very much, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer with me to Lincoln’s Inn, by appointment, to have spoke with Mr. Pedley about Mr. Goldsborough’s business and Mr. Weaver’s, but he was gone out, and so I with Mr. Castle, the son-in-law of Weaver, to Whitehall to look for him, but did not find him, but here I did meet with several and talked, and do hear only that the King dining yesterday at the Dutch Embassador’s, after dinner they drank, and were pretty merry; and, among the rest of the King’s company, there was that worthy fellow my lord of Rochester, and Tom Killigrew, whose mirth and raillery offended the former so much, that he did give Tom Killigrew a box on the ear in the King’s presence, which do much give offence to the people here at Court, to see how cheap the King makes himself, and the more, for that the King hath not only passed by the thing, and pardoned it to Rochester already, but this very morning the King did publicly walk up and down, and Rochester I saw with him as free as ever, to the King’s everlasting shame, to have so idle a rogue his companion.4397 How Tom Killigrew takes it, I do not hear. I do also this day hear that my Lord Privy Seale do accept to go Lieutenant into Ireland;4398 but whether it be true or no, I cannot tell. So calling at my shoemaker’s, and paying him to this day, I home to dinner, and in the afternoon to Colonel Middleton’s house, to the burial of his wife,4399 where we are all invited, and much more company, and had each of us a ring: and so towards evening to our church, where there was a sermon preached by Mills, and so home. At church there was my Lord Brouncker and Mrs. Williams in our pew, the first time they were ever there or that I knew that either of them would go to church. At home comes Castle to me, to desire me to go to Mr. Pedly, this night, he being to go out of town tomorrow morning, which I, therefore, did, by hackney-coach, first going to Whitehall to meet with Sir W. Coventry, but missed him. But here I had a pleasant rencontre of a lady in mourning, that, by the little light I had, seemed handsome. I passing by her, I did observe she looked back again and again upon me, I suffering her to go before, and it being now duske. I observed she went into the little passage towards the Privy Water-Gate, and I followed, but missed her; but coming back again, I observed she returned, and went to go out of the Court. I followed her, and took occasion, in the new passage now built, where the walke is to be, to take her by the hand, to lead her through, which she willingly accepted, and I led her to the Great Gate, and there left her, she telling me, of her own accord, that she was going as far as, Charing Cross; but my boy was at the gate, and so je durst not go out con her, which vexed me, and my mind (God forgive me) did run après her toute that night, though I have reason to thank God, and so I do now, that I was not tempted to go further. So to Lincoln’s Inn, where to Mr. Pedly, with whom I spoke, and did my business presently: and I find him a man of very good language, and mighty civil, and I believe very upright: and so home, where W. Batelier was, and supped with us, and I did reckon this night what I owed him; and I do find that the things my wife, of her own head, hath taken (together with my own, which comes not to above £5), comes to above £22. But it is the last, and so I am the better contented; and they are things that are not trifles, but clothes, gloves, shoes, hoods, etc. So after supper, to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, and at noon home, expecting to have this day seen Bab. and Betty Pepys here, but they come not; and so after dinner my wife and I to the Duke of York’s house, to a play, and there saw The Mad Lover, which do not please me so well as it used to do, only Betterton’s part still pleases me. But here who should we have come to us but Bab. and Betty and Talbot, the first play they were yet at; and going to see us, and hearing by my boy, whom I sent to them, that we were here, they come to us hither, and happened all of us to sit by my cousin Turner and The., and we carried them home first, and then took Bab. and Betty to our house, where they lay and supped, and pretty merry, and very fine with their new clothes, and good comely girls they are enough, and very glad I am of their being with us, though I would very well have been contented to have been without the charge. So they to bed and we to bed.
. Up, and after seeing the girls, who lodged in our bed, with their maid Martha, who hath been their father’s maid these twenty years and more, I with Lord Brouncker to Whitehall, where all of us waited on the Duke of York; and after our usual business done, W. Hewer and I to look my wife at the Black Lion, Mercer’s, but she is gone home, and so I home and there dined, and W. Batelier and W. Hewer with us. All the afternoon I at the Office, while the young people went to see Bedlam,4400 and at night home to them and to supper, and pretty merry, only troubled with a great cold at this time, and my eyes very bad ever since Monday night last that the light of the candles spoiled me. So to bed. This morning, among other things, talking with Sir W. Coventry, I did propose to him my putting in to serve in Parliament, if there should, as the world begins to expect, be a new one chose: he likes it mightily, both for the King’s and Service’s sake, and the Duke of York’s, and will propound it to the Duke of York: and I confess, if there be one, I would be glad to be in.
. Up, and all the morning at the office, and then home to dinner, and after dinner out with my wife and my two girls to the Duke of York’s house, and there saw The Grateful Servant,4401 a pretty good play, and which I have forgot that ever I did see. And thence with them to Mrs. Gotier’s, the Queen’s tire-woman, for a pair of locks for my wife; she is an oldish French woman, but with a pretty hand as most I have seen; and so home, and to supper, W. Batelier and W. Hewer with us, and so my cold being great, and greater by my having left my coat at my tailor’s tonight and come home in a thinner that I borrowed there, I went to bed before them and slept pretty well.
. Up, and with my wife and two girls to church, they very fine; and so home, where comes my cousin Roger and his wife, I having sent for them, to dine with us, and there comes in by chance also Mr. Shepley, who is come to town with my Lady Paulina, who is desperately sick, and is gone to Chelsey, to the old house where my Lord himself was once sick, where I doubt my Lord means to visit hers more for young Mrs. Beck’s sake than for hers. Here we dined with W. Batelier, and W. Hewer with us, these two girls making it necessary that they be always with us, for I am not company light enough to be always merry with them and so sat talking all the afternoon, and then Shepley went away first, and then my cousin Roger and his wife. And so I, to my Office, to write down my Journal, and so home to my chamber and to do a little business there, my papers being in mighty disorder, and likely so to continue while these girls are with us. In the evening comes W. Batelier and his sisters and supped and talked with us, and so spent the evening, myself being somewhat out of order because of my eyes, which have never been well since last Sunday’s reading at Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and so after supper to bed.
. Up, and betimes to Whitehall; but there the Duke of York is gone abroad a-hunting, and therefore after a little stay there I into London, with Sir H. Cholmly, talking all the way of Tangier matters, wherein I find him troubled from some reports lately from Norwood (who is his great enemy and I doubt an ill man), of some decay of the Mole, and a breach made therein by the sea to a great value. He set me down at the end of Leadenhall Street, and so I home, and after dinner, with my wife, in her morning-gown, and the two girls dressed, to Unthanke’s, where my wife dresses herself, having her gown this day laced, and a new petticoat; and so is indeed very fine. And in the evening I do carry them to Whitehall, and there did without much trouble get into the playhouse, there in a good place among the Ladies of Honour, and myself also sat in the pit; and there by and by come the King and Queen, and they begun Bartholomew Fair. But I like no play here so well as at the common playhouse; besides that, my eyes being very ill since last Sunday and this day sennight, with the light of the candles, I was in mighty pain to defend myself now from the light of the candles. After the play done, we met with W. Batelier and W. Hewer and Talbot Pepys, and they follow us in a hackney-coach: and we all stopped at Hercules’ Pillars;4402 and there I did give them the best supper I could, and pretty merry; and so home between eleven and twelve at night, and so to bed, mightily well pleased with this day’s work.
. Up: and to the Office, where all the morning, and then home, and put a mouthful of victuals in my mouth; and by a hackney-coach followed my wife and the girls, who are gone by eleven o’clock, thinking to have seen a new play at the Duke of York’s house. But I do find them staying at my tailor’s, the play not being today, and therefore I now took them to Westminster Abbey, and there did show them all the tombs very finely, having one with us alone, there being other company this day to see the tombs, it being Shrove Tuesday; and here we did see, by particular favour, the body of Queen Katherine of Valois; and I had the upper part of her body in my hands, and I did kiss her mouth, reflecting upon it that I did kiss a Queen,4403 and that this was my birthday, thirty-six years old, that I did first kiss a Queen. But here this man, who seems to understand well, tells me that the saying is not true that says she was never buried, for she was buried; only, when Henry the Seventh built his chapel, it was taken up and laid in this wooden coffin; but I did there see that, in it, the body was buried in a leaden one, which remains under the body to this day. Thence to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there, finding the play begun, we homeward to the Glass-House,4404 and there showed my cousins the making of glass, and had several things made with great content; and, among others, I had one or two singing-glasses made, which make an echo to the voice, the first that ever I saw; but so thin, that the very breath broke one or two of them. So home, and thence to Mr. Batelier’s, where we supped, and had a good supper, and here was Mr. Gumbleton; and after supper some fiddles, and so to dance; but my eyes were so out of order, that I had little pleasure this night at all, though I was glad to see the rest merry, and so about midnight home and to bed.
. Lay long in bed, both being sleepy and my eyes bad, and myself having a great cold so as I was hardly able to speak, but, however, by and by up and to the office, and at noon home with my people to dinner, and then I to the office again, and there till the evening doing of much business, and at night my wife sends for me to W. Hewer’s lodging, where I find two best chambers of his so finely furnished, and all so rich and neat, that I was mightily pleased with him and them and here only my wife, and I, and the two girls, and had a mighty neat dish of custards and tarts, and good drink and talk. And so away home to bed, with infinite content at this his treat; for it was mighty pretty, and everything mighty rich.
. All the morning at the office. At noon home and eat a bit myself, and then followed my wife and girls to the Duke of York’s house, and there before one, but the house infinite full, where, by and by, the King and Court come, it being a new play, or an old one new vamped, by Shadwell, called The Royal Shepherdess;4405 but the silliest for words and design, and everything, that ever I saw in my whole life, there being nothing in the world pleasing in it, but a good martial dance of pikemen, where Harris and another do handle their pikes in a dance to admiration; but never less satisfied with a play in my life. Thence to the office I, and did a little business, and so home to supper with my girls, and pretty merry, only my eyes, which continue very bad, and my cold, that I cannot speak at all, do trouble me.
. Was forced to send my excuse to the Duke of York for my not attending him with my fellows this day because of my cold, and was the less troubled because I was thereby out of the way to offer my proposals about Pursers till the Surveyor hath delivered his notions, which he is to do today about something he has to offer relating to the Navy in general, which I would be glad to see and peruse before I offer what I have to say. So lay long in bed, and then up and to my office, and so to dinner, and then, though I could not speak, yet I went with my wife and girls to the King’s playhouse, to show them that, and there saw The Faithful Shepherdess. But, Lord! what an empty house, there not being, as I could tell the people, so many as to make up above £10 in the whole house! The being of a new play at the other house, I suppose, being the cause, though it be so silly a play that I wonder how there should be enough people to go thither two days together, and not leave more to fill this house. The emptiness of the house took away our pleasure a great deal, though I liked it the better; for that I plainly discern the music is the better, by how much the house the emptier. Thence home, and again to W. Hewer’s, and had a pretty little treat, and spent an hour or two, my voice being wholly taken away with my cold, and so home and to bed.
. Up, and at the office all the morning, where I could speak but a little. At noon home to dinner, and all the afternoon till night busy at the office again, where forced to speak low and dictate. But that that troubles me most is my eyes, which are still mighty bad night and day, and so home at night to talk and sup with my cousins, and so all of us in mighty good humour to bed.
. Up, and got my wife to read to me a copy of what the Surveyor offered to the Duke of York on Friday, he himself putting it into my hands to read; but, Lord! it is a poor, silly thing ever to think to bring it in practice, in the King’s Navy. It is to have the Captains to account for all stores and victuals; but upon so silly grounds, to my thinking; and ignorance of the present instructions of Officers, that I am ashamed to hear it. However, I do take a copy of it, for my future use and answering; and so to church, where, God forgive me! I did most of the time gaze on the fine milliner’s wife, in Fenchurch Street, who was at our church today; and so home to dinner. And after dinner to write down my Journal; and then abroad by coach with my cousins, to their father’s, where we are kindly received, but he is in great pain for his man Arthur, who, he fears, is now dead, having been desperately sick, and speaks so much of him that my cousin, his wife, and I did make mirth of it, and call him Arthur O’Bradly.4406 After staying here a little, and eat and drank, and she gave me some gingerbread made in cakes, like chocolate, very good, made by a friend, I carried him and her to my cousin Turner’s, where we stayed, expecting her coming from church; but she coming not, I went to her husband’s chamber in the Temple, and thence fetched her, she having been there alone ever since sermon staying till the evening to walk home on foot, her horses being ill. This I did, and brought her home. And after talking there awhile, and agreeing to be all merry at my house on Tuesday next, I away home; and there spent the evening talking and reading, with my wife and Mr. Pelling, and yet much troubled with my cold, it hardly suffering me to speak, we to bed.
March 1668–69
. Up, and to Whitehall to the Committee of Tangier, but it did not meet. But here I do hear first that my Lady Paulina Montagu did die yesterday; at which I went to my Lord’s lodgings, but he is shut up with sorrow, and so not to be spoken with: and therefore I returned, and to Westminster Hall, where I have not been, I think, in some months. And here the Hall was very full, the King having, by Commission to some Lords this day, prorogued the Parliament till the 19th of October next: at which I am glad, hoping to have time to go over to France this year. But I was most of all surprised this morning by my Lord Bellassis, who, by appointment, met me at Auditor Wood’s, at the Temple, and tells me of a duell designed between the Duke of Buckingham and my Lord Halifax, or Sir W. Coventry; the challenge being carried by Harry Saville,4407 but prevented by my Lord Arlington, and the King told of it; and this was all the discourse at Court this day. But I, meeting Sir W. Coventry in the Duke of York’s chamber, he would not own it to me, but told me that he was a man of too much peace to meddle with fighting, and so it rested: but the talk is full in the town of the business. Thence, having walked some turns with my cousin Pepys, and most people, by their discourse, believing that this Parliament will never sit more, I away to several places to look after things against tomorrow’s feast, and so home to dinner; and thence, after noon, my wife and I out by hackney-coach, and spent the afternoon in several places, doing several things at the ’Change and elsewhere against tomorrow; and, among others, I did also bring home a piece of my face cast in plaister, for to make a vizard upon, for my eyes. And so home, where W. Batelier come, and sat with us; and there, after many doubts, did resolve to go on with our feast and dancing tomorrow; and so, after supper, left the maids to make clean the house, and to lay the cloth, and other things against tomorrow, and we to bed.
. Up, and at the office till noon, when home, and there I find my company come, namely, Madam Turner, Dyke, The., and Betty Turner, and Mr. Bellwood, formerly their father’s clerk, but now set up for himself—a conceited, silly fellow, but one they make mightily of—my cousin Roger Pepys, and his wife, and two daughters. I had a noble dinner for them, as I almost ever had, and mighty merry, and particularly myself pleased with looking on Betty Turner, who is mighty pretty. After dinner, we fell one to one talk, and another to another, and looking over my house, and closet, and things; and The. Turner to write a letter to a lady in the country, in which I did, now and then, put in half a dozen words, and sometimes five or six lines, and then she as much, and made up a long and good letter, she being mighty witty really, though troublesome-humoured with it. And thus till night, that our music come, and the Office ready and candles, and also W. Batelier and his sister Susan come, and also Will. Howe and two gentlemen more, strangers, which, at my request yesterday, he did bring to dance, called Mr. Ireton and Mr. Starkey. We fell to dancing, and continued, only with intermission for a good supper, till two in the morning, the music being Greeting, and another most excellent violin, and theorbo, the best in town. And so with mighty mirth, and pleased with their dancing of jigs afterwards several of them, and, among others, Betty Turner, who did it mighty prettily; and, lastly, W. Batelier’s “Blackmore and Blackmore Maid;” and then to a country-dance again, and so broke up with extraordinary pleasure, as being one of the days and nights of my life spent with the greatest content; and that which I can but hope to repeat again a few times in my whole life. This done, we parted, the strangers home, and I did lodge my cousin Pepys and his wife in our blue chamber. My cousin Turner, her sister, and The., in our best chamber; Bab., Betty, and Betty Turner, in our own chamber; and myself and my wife in the maid’s bed, which is very good. Our maids in the coachman’s bed; the coachman with the boy in his settlebed, and Tom where he uses to lie. And so I did, to my great content, lodge at once in my house, with the greatest ease, fifteen, and eight of them strangers of quality. My wife this day put on first her French gown, called a Sac, which becomes her very well, brought her over by W. Batelier.
. Up, after a very good night’s rest, and was called upon by Sir H. Cholmly, who was with me an hour, and though acquainted did not stay to talk with my company I had in the house, but away, and then I to my guests, and got them to breakfast, and then parted by coaches; and I did, in mine, carry my she-cousin Pepys and her daughters home, and there left them, and so to Whitehall, where W. Hewer met me; and he and I took a turn in St. James’s Park, and in the Mall did meet Sir W. Coventry and Sir J. Duncomb, and did speak with them about some business before the Lords of the Treasury; but I did find them more than usually busy, though I knew not then the reason of it, though I guess it by what followed tomorrow. Thence to Dancre’s, the painter’s, and there saw my picture of Greenwich, finished to my very good content, though this manner of distemper do make the figures not so pleasing as in oil. So to Unthanke’s, and there took up my wife, and carried her to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw an old play, the first time acted these forty years, called The Lady’s Trial,4408 acted only by the young people of the house; but the house very full. But it is but a sorry play, and the worse by how much my head is out of humour by being a little sleepy and my legs weary since last night. So after the play we to the New Exchange, and so called at my cousin Turner’s; and there, meeting Mr. Bellwood, did hear how my Lord Mayor,4409 being invited this day to dinner at the Reader’s at the Temple, and endeavouring to carry his sword up,4410 the students did pull it down, and forced him to go and stay all the day in a private Councillor’s chamber, until the Reader himself could get the young gentlemen to dinner; and then my Lord Mayor did retreat out of the Temple by stealth, with his sword up. This do make great heat among the students; and my Lord Mayor did send to the King, and also I hear that Sir Richard Browne did cause the drums to beat for the Train-bands;4411 but all is over, only I hear that the students do resolve to try the Charter of the City. So we home, and betimes to bed, and slept well all night.
. Up, and a while at the office, but thinking to have Mr. Povy’s business today at the Committee for Tangier, I left the Board and away to Whitehall, where in the first court I did meet Sir Jeremy Smith, who did tell me that Sir W. Coventry was just now sent to the Tower, about the business of his challenging the Duke of Buckingham,4412 and so was also Harry Saville to the Gatehouse;4413 which, as [he is] a gentleman, and of the Duke of York’s bedchamber, I heard afterwards that the Duke of York is mightily incensed at, and do appear very high to the King that he might not be sent thither, but to the Tower, this being done only in contempt to him.4414 This news of Sir W. Coventry did strike me to the heart, and with reason, for by this and my Lord of Ormond’s business, I do doubt that the Duke of Buckingham will be so flushed, that he will not stop at anything, but be forced to do anything now, as thinking it not safe to end here; and, Sir W. Coventry being gone, the King will have never a good counsellor, nor the Duke of York any sure friend to stick to him; nor any good man will be left to advise what is good. This, therefore, do heartily trouble me as anything that ever I heard. So up into the House, and met with several people; but the Committee did not meet; and the whole House I find full of this business of Sir W. Coventry’s, and most men very sensible of the cause and effects of it. So, meeting with my Lord Bellassis, he told me the particulars of this matter; that it arises about a quarrel which Sir W. Coventry had with the Duke of Buckingham about a design between the Duke and Sir Robert Howard, to bring him into a play at the King’s house, which W. Coventry not enduring, did by H. Saville send a letter to the Duke of Buckingham, that he had a desire to speak with him. Upon which, the Duke of Buckingham did bid Holmes, his champion ever since my Lord Shrewsbury’s business,4415 go to him to know the business; but H. Saville would not tell it to any but himself, and therefore did go presently to the Duke of Buckingham, and told him that his uncle Coventry was a person of honour, and was sensible of his Grace’s liberty taken of abusing him, and that he had a desire of satisfaction, and would fight with him. But that here they were interrupted by my Lord Chamberlain’s coming in, who was commanded to go to bid the Duke of Buckingham to come to the King, Holmes having discovered it. He told me that the King did last night, at the Council, ask the Duke of Buckingham, upon his honour, whether he had received any challenge from W. Coventry? which he confessed that he had; and then the King asking W. Coventry, he told him that he did not own what the Duke of Buckingham had said, though it was not fit for him to give him a direct contradiction. But, being by the King put upon declaring, upon his honour, the matter, he answered that he had understood that many hard questions had upon this business been moved to some lawyers, and that therefore he was unwilling to declare anything that might, from his own mouth, render him obnoxious to his Majesty’s displeasure, and, therefore, prayed to be excused: which the King did think fit to interpret to be a confession, and so gave warrant that night for his commitment to the Tower. Being very much troubled at this, I away by coach homewards, and directly to the Tower, where I find him in one Mr. Bennet’s house, son to Major Bayly, one of the Officers of the Ordnance, in the Bricke Tower:4416 where I find him busy with my Lord Halifax and his brother; so I would not stay to interrupt them, but only to give him comfort, and offer my service to him, which he kindly and cheerfully received, only owning his being troubled for the King his master’s displeasure, which, I suppose, is the ordinary form and will of persons in this condition. And so I parted, with great content, that I had so earlily seen him there; and so going out, did meet Sir Jer. Smith going to meet me, who had newly been with Sir W. Coventry. And so he and I by water to Redriffe, and so walked to Deptford, where I have not been, I think, these twelve months: and there to the Treasurer’s house,4417 where the Duke of York is, and his Duchess; and there we find them at dinner in the great room, unhung; and there was with them my Lady Duchess of Monmouth, the Countess of Falmouth, Castlemayne, Henrietta Hide4418 (my Lady Hinchingbroke’s sister), and my Lady Peterborough. And after dinner Sir Jer. Smith and I were invited down to dinner with some of the Maids of Honour, namely, Mrs. Ogle,4419 Blake,4420 and Howard,4421 which did me good to have the honour to dine with, and look on; and the Mother of the Maids,4422 and Mrs. Howard,4423 the mother of the Maid of Honour of that name, and the Duke’s housekeeper here. Here was also Monsieur Blancfort,4424 Sir Richard Powell,4425 Colonel Villers,4426 Sir Jonathan Trelawny,4427 and others. And here drank most excellent, and great variety, and plenty of wines, more than I have drank, at once, these seven years, but yet did me no great hurt. Having dined and very merry, and understanding by Blancfort how angry the Duke of York was, about their offering to send Saville to the Gatehouse, among the rogues; and then, observing how this company, both the ladies and all, are of a gang, and did drink a health to the union of the two brothers, and talking of others as their enemies, they parted, and so we up; and there I did find the Duke of York and Duchess, with all the great ladies, sitting upon a carpet, on the ground, there being no chairs, playing at “I love my love with an A, because he is so-and-so: and I hate him with an A, because of this and that:”4428 and some of them, but particularly the Duchess herself, and my Lady Castlemayne, were very witty. This done, they took barge, and I with Sir J. Smith to Captain Cox’s; and there to talk, and left them and other company to drink; while I slunk out to Bagwell’s; and there saw her, and her mother, and our late maid Nell, who cried for joy to see me, but I had no time for pleasure then nor could stay, but after drinking I back to the yard, having a month’s mind para have had a bout with Nell, which I believe I could have had, and may another time. So to Cox’s, and thence walked with Sir J. Smith back to Redriffe; and so, by water home, and there my wife mighty angry for my absence, and fell mightily out, but not being certain of anything, but thinks only that Pierce or Knepp was there, and did ask me, and, I perceive, the boy, many questions. But I did answer her; and so, after much ado, did go to bed, and lie quiet all night; but [she] had another bout with me in the morning, but I did make shift to quiet her, but yet she was not fully satisfied, poor wretch! in her mind, and thinks much of my taking so much pleasure from her; which, indeed, is a fault, though I did not design or foresee it when I went.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, where did a little business with the Duke of York at our usual attending him, and thence to my wife, who was with my coach at Unthanke’s, though not very well of those upon her, and so home to dinner, and after dinner I to the Tower, where I find Sir W. Coventry with abundance of company with him; and after sitting awhile, and hearing some merry discourse, and, among others, of Mr. Brouncker’s being this day summoned to Sir William Morton,4429 one of the judges, to give in security for his good behaviour, upon his words the other day to Sir John Morton,4430 a Parliament-man, at Whitehall, who had heretofore spoke very highly against Brouncker in the House, I away, and to Aldgate, and walked forward towards White Chapel, till my wife overtook me with the coach, it being a mighty fine afternoon; and there we went the first time out of town with our coach and horses, and went as far as Bow, the spring beginning a little now to appear, though the way be dirty; and so, with great pleasure, with the forepart of our coach up, we spent the afternoon. And so in the evening home, and there busy at the Office awhile, and so to bed, mightily pleased with being at peace with my poor wife, and with the pleasure we may hope to have with our coach this summer, when the weather comes to be good.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, only before the Office I stepped to Sir W. Coventry at the Tower, and there had a great deal of discourse with him; among others, of the King’s putting him out of the Council yesterday, with which he is well contented, as with what else they can strip him of, he telling me, and so hath long done, that he is weary and surfeited of business; but he joins with me in his fears that all will go to naught, as matters are now managed. He told me the matter of the play that was intended for his abuse, wherein they foolishly and sillily bring in two tables like that which he hath made, with a round hole in the middle, in his closet, to turn himself in;4431 and he is to be in one of them as master, and Sir J. Duncomb in the other, as his man or imitator: and their discourse in those tables, about the disposing of their books and papers, very foolish. But that, that he is offended with, is his being made so contemptible, as that any should dare to make a gentleman a subject for the mirth of the world: and that therefore he had told Tom Killigrew that he should tell his actors, whoever they were, that did offer at anything like representing him, that he would not complain to my Lord Chamberlain, which was too weak, nor get him beaten, as Sir Charles Sidly is said to do, but that he would cause his nose to be cut.4432 He told me the passage at the Council much like what my Lord Bellassis told me. He told me how that the Duke of Buckingham did himself, some time since, desire to join with him, of all men in England, and did bid him propound to himself to be Chief Minister of State, saying that he would bring it about, but that he refused to have anything to do with any faction; and that the Duke of Buckingham did, within these few days, say that, of all men in England, he would have chosen W. Coventry to have joined entire with. He tells me that he fears their prevailing against the Duke of York; and that their violence will force them to it, as being already beyond his pardon. He repeated to me many examples of challenging of Privy-Councillors and others; but never any proceeded against with that severity which he is, it never amounting to others to more than a little confinement. He tells me of his being weary of the Treasury, and of the folly, ambition, and desire of popularity of Sir Thomas Clifford; and yet the rudeness of his tongue and passions when angry. This and much more discourse being over I with great pleasure come home and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and thence to the office again, where very hard at work all the afternoon till night, and then home to my wife to read to me, and to bed, my cold having been now almost for three days quite gone from me. This day my wife made it appear to me that my late entertainment this week cost me above £12, an expense which I am almost ashamed of, though it is but once in a great while, and is the end for which, in the most part, we live, to have such a merry day once or twice in a man’s life.
. Up, and to the office, busy till church time, and then to church, where a dull sermon, and so home to dinner, all alone with my wife, and then to even my Journal to this day, and then to the Tower, to see Sir W. Coventry, who had H. Jermin and a great many more with him, and more, while I was there, come in; so that I do hear that there was not less than sixty coaches there yesterday, and the other day; which I hear also that there is a great exception taken at, by the King and the Duke of Buckingham, but it cannot be helped. Thence home, and with our coach out to Suffolk Street, to see my cousin Pepys, but neither the old nor young at home. So to my cousin Turner’s, and there stayed talking a little, and then back to Suffolk Street, where they not being yet come home I to Whitehall, and there hear that there are letters come from Sir Thomas Allen, that he hath made some kind of peace with Algiers; upon which the King and Duke of York, being to go out of town tomorrow, are met at my Lord Arlington’s: so I there, and by Mr. Wren was desired to stay to see if there were occasion for their speaking with me, which I did, walking without, with Charles Porter,4433 talking of a great many things: and I perceive all the world is against the Duke of Buckingham his acting thus high, and do prophesy nothing but ruin from it. But he do well observe that the church lands cannot certainly come to much, if the King shall [be] persuaded to take them; they being leased out for long leases. By and by, after two hours’ stay, they rose, having, as Wren tells me, resolved upon sending six ships to the Streights forthwith, not being contented with the peace upon the terms they demand, which are, that all our ships, where any Turks or Moores shall be found slaves, shall be prizes; which will imply that they must be searched. I hear that tomorrow the King and the Duke of York set out for Newmarket, by three in the morning; to some foot and horse-races, to be abroad ten or twelve days. So I away, without seeing the Duke of York; but Mr. Wren showed me the Order of Council about the balancing the Storekeeper’s accounts, passed the Council in the very terms I drew it, only I did put in my name as he that presented the book of Hosier’s preparing, and that is left out—I mean, my name—which is no great matter. So to my wife to Suffolk Street, where she was gone, and there I found them at supper, and eat a little with them, and so home, and there to bed, my cold pretty well gone.
. Up, and with W. Hewer by hackney coach to Whitehall, where the King and the Duke of York is gone by three in the morning, and had the misfortune to be overset with the Duke of York, the Duke of Monmouth, and the Prince,4434 at the King’s Gate4435 in Holborne; and the King all dirty, but no hurt. How it come to pass I know not, but only it was dark, and the torches did not, they say, light the coach as they should do. I thought this morning to have seen my Lord Sandwich before he went out of town, but I come half an hour too late; which troubles me, I having not seen him since my Lady Pall4436 died. So W. Hewer and I to the Harp-and-Ball, to drink my morning draught, having come out in haste; and there met with King, the Parliament-man, with whom I had some impertinent talk. And so to the Privy Seal Office, to examine what records I could find there, for my help in the great business I am put upon, of defending the present constitution of the Navy; but there could not have liberty without order from him that is in present waiting, Mr. Bickerstaffe, who is out of town. This I did after I had walked to the New Exchange and there met Mr. Moore, who went with me thither, and I find him the same discontented poor man as ever. He tells me that Mr. Shepley is upon being turned away from my Lord’s family, and another sent down, which I am sorry for; but his age and good fellowship have almost made him fit for nothing. Thence, at Unthanke’s my wife met me, and with our coach to my cousin Turner’s and there dined, and after dinner with my wife alone to the King’s playhouse, and there saw The Mocke Astrologer, which I have often seen, and but an ordinary play; and so to my cousin Turner’s again, where we met Roger Pepys, his wife, and two daughters, and there stayed and talked a little, and then home, and there my wife to read to me, my eyes being sensibly hurt by the too great lights of the playhouse. So to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the Tower; and there find Sir W. Coventry alone, writing down his journal, which, he tells me, he now keeps of the material things; upon which I told him, and he is the only man I ever told it to, I think, that I kept it most strictly these eight or ten years; and I am sorry almost that I told it him, it not being necessary, nor may be convenient to have it known. Here he showed me the petition he had sent to the King by my Lord Keeper, which was not to desire any admittance to employment, but submitting himself therein humbly to his Majesty; but prayed the removal of his displeasure, and that he might be set free. He tells me that my Lord Keeper did acquaint the King with the substance of it, not showing him the petition; who answered, that he was disposing of his employments, and when that was done, he might be led to discharge him: and this is what he expects, and what he seems to desire. But by this discourse he was pleased to take occasion to show me and read to me his account, which he hath kept by him under his own hand, of all his discourse, and the King’s answers to him, upon the great business of my Lord Clarendon, and how he had first moved the Duke of York with it twice, at good distance, one after another, but without success; showing me thereby the simplicity and reasons of his so doing, and the manner of it; and the King’s accepting it, telling him that he was not satisfied in his management, and did discover some dissatisfaction against him for his opposing the laying aside of my Lord Treasurer, at Oxford, which was a secret the King had not discovered. And really I was mighty proud to be privy to this great transaction, it giving me great conviction of the noble nature and ends of Sir W. Coventry in it, and considerations in general of the consequences of great men’s actions, and the uncertainty of their estates, and other very serious considerations. From this to other discourse, and so to the Office, where we sat all the morning, and after dinner by coach to my cousin Turner’s, thinking to have taken the young ladies to a play; but The. was let blood today; and so my wife and I towards the King’s playhouse, and by the way found Betty [Turner], and Bab., and Betty Pepys staying for us; and so took them all to see Claricilla, which do not please me almost at all, though there are some good things in it. And so to my cousin Turner’s again, and there find my Lady Mordaunt, and her sister Johnson;4437 and by and by comes in a gentleman, Mr. Overbury, a pleasant man, who plays most excellently on the flageolet, a little one, that sounded as low as one of mine, and mighty pretty. Hence by and by away, and with my wife, and Bab. and Betty Pepys, and W. Hewer, whom I carried all this day with me, to my cousin Stradwick’s, where I have not been ever since my brother Tom died, there being some difference between my father and them, upon the account of my cousin Scott; and I was glad of this opportunity of seeing them, they being good and substantial people, and kind, and here met my cousin Roger and his wife, and my cousin Turner, and here, which I never did before, I drank a glass, of a pint, I believe, at one draught, of the juice of oranges, of whose peel they make comfits; and here they drink the juice as wine, with sugar, and it is very fine drink; but, it being new, I was doubtful whether it might not do me hurt. Having stayed a while, my wife and I back, with my cousin Turner, etc., to her house, and there we took our leaves of my cousin Pepys, who goes with his wife and two daughters for Impington tomorrow. They are very good people, and people I love, and am obliged to, and shall have great pleasure in their friendship, and particularly in hers, she being an understanding and good woman. So away home, and there after signing my letters, my eyes being bad, to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by hackney-coach to Auditor Beale’s Office, in Holborne, to look for records of the Navy, but he was out of the way, and so forced to go next to Whitehall, to the Privy Seal; and, after staying a little there, then to Westminster, where, at the Exchequer, I met with Mr. Newport and Major Halsey; and, after doing a little business with Mr. Burges, we by water to Whitehall, where I made a little stop: and so with them by coach to Temple Bar, where, at the Sugar Loaf4438 we dined, and W. Hewer with me; and there comes a companion of theirs, Colonel Vernon, I think they called him; a merry good fellow, and one that was very plain in cursing the Duke of Buckingham, and discoursing of his designs to ruin us, and that ruin must follow his counsels, and that we are an undone people. To which the others concurred, but not so plain, but all vexed at Sir W. Coventry’s being laid aside: but Vernon, he is concerned, I perceive, for my Lord Ormond’s being laid aside; but their company, being all old cavaliers, were very pleasant to hear how they swear and talk. But Halsey, to my content, tells me that my Lord Duke of Albemarle says that W. Coventry being gone, nothing will be well done at the Treasury, and I believe it; but they do all talk as that Duncombe, upon some pretence or other, must follow him. Thence to Auditor Beale’s, his house and office, but not to be found, and therefore to the Privy Seale at Whitehall, where, with W. Hewer and Mr. Gibson, who met me at the Temple, I spent the afternoon till evening looking over the books there, and did find several things to my purpose, though few of those I designed to find, the books being kept there in no method at all. Having done there, we by water home, and there find my cousin Turner4439 and her two daughters come to see us; and there, after talking a little, I had my coach ready, and my wife and I, they going home, we out to White Chapel to take a little air, though yet the dirtiness of the road do prevent most of the pleasure, which should have been from this tour. So home, and my wife to read to me till supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to Sir W. Coventry, to the Tower, where I walked and talked with him an hour alone, from one good thing to another: who tells me that he hears that the Commission is gone down to the King, with a blank to fill, for his place in the Treasury: and he believes it will be filled with one of our Treasurers of the Navy, but which he knows not, but he believes it will be Osborne. We walked down to the Stone Walk, which is called, it seems, my Lord of Northumberland’s walk,4440 being paved by someone of that title, that was prisoner there: and at the end of it, there is a piece of iron upon the wall, with, his armes upon it, and holes to put in a peg, for every turn that they make upon that walk. So away to the Office, where busy all the morning, and so to dinner, and so very busy all the afternoon, at my Office, late; and then home tired, to supper, with content with my wife, and so to bed, she pleasing me, though I dare not own it, that she hath hired a chambermaid; but she, after many commendations, told me that she had one great fault, and that was, that she was very handsome, at which I made nothing, but let her go on; but many times tonight she took occasion to discourse of her handsomeness, and the danger she was in by taking her, and that she did doubt yet whether it would be fit for her, to take her. But I did assure her of my resolutions to have nothing to do with her maids, but in myself I was glad to have the content to have a handsome one to look on.
. Up, and abroad, with my own coach, to Auditor Beale’s house, and thence with W. Hewer to his Office, and there with great content spent all the morning looking over the Navy accounts of several years, and the several patents of the Treasurers, which was more than I did hope to have found there. About noon I ended there, to my great content, and giving the clerks there 20s. for their trouble, and having sent for W. Howe to me to discourse with him about the Patent Office records, wherein I remembered his brother to be concerned, I took him in my coach with W. Hewer and myself towards Westminster; and there he carried me to Nott’s, the famous bookbinder, that bound for my Lord Chancellor’s library; and here I did take occasion for curiosity to bespeak a book to be bound, only that I might have one of his binding. Thence back to Graye’s Inne: and, at the next door, at a cook’s-shop of Howe’s acquaintance, we bespoke dinner, it being now two o’clock; and in the meantime he carried us into Graye’s Inne, to his chamber, where I never was before; and it is very pretty, and little, and neat, as he was always. And so, after a little stay, and looking over a book or two there, we carried a piece of my Lord Coke4441 with us, and to our dinner, where, after dinner, he read at my desire a chapter in my Lord Coke about perjury, wherein I did learn a good deal touching oaths, and so away to the Patent Office,4442 in Chancery Lane, where his brother Jacke, being newly broke by running in debt, and growing an idle rogue, he is forced to hide himself; and W. Howe do look after the Office, and here I did set a clerk to look out some things for me in their books, while W. Hewer and I to the Crown Office,4443 where we met with several good things that I most wanted, and did take short notes of the dockets, and so back to the Patent Office, and did the like there, and by candlelight ended. And so home, where, thinking to meet my wife with content, after my pains all this day, I find her in her closet, alone, in the dark, in a hot fit of railing against me, upon some news she has this day heard of Deb.’s living very fine, and with black spots, and speaking ill words of her mistress, which with good reason might vex her; and the baggage is to blame, but, God knows, I know nothing of her, nor what she do, nor what becomes of her, though God knows that my devil that is within me do wish that I could. Yet God I hope will prevent me therein, for I dare not trust myself with it if I should know it; but, what with my high words, and slighting it, and then serious, I did at last bring her to very good and kind terms, poor heart! and I was heartily glad of it, for I do see there is no man can be happier than myself, if I will, with her. But in her fit she did tell me what vexed me all the night, that this had put her upon putting off her handsome maid and hiring another that was full of the small pox, which did mightily vex me, though I said nothing, and do still. So down to supper, and she to read to me, and then with all possible kindness to bed.
. Up, and to the Tower, to see Sir W. Coventry, and with him talking of business of the Navy, all alone, an hour, he taking physic. And so away to the Office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, with my people, and so to the Office again, and there all the afternoon till night, when comes, by mistake, my cousin Turner, and her two daughters, which love such freaks, to eat some anchovies and ham of bacon with me, instead of noon, at dinner, when I expected them. But, however, I had done my business before they come, and so was in good humour enough to be with them, and so home to them to supper, and pretty merry, being pleased to see Betty Turner, which hath something mighty pretty. But that which put me in good humour, both at noon and night, is the fancy that I am this day made a Captain of one of the King’s ships, Mr. Wren having this day sent me, the Duke of York’s commission to be Captain of The Jerzy, in order to my being of a Court-martiall for examining the loss of The Defiance,4444 and other things; which do give me occasion of much mirth, and may be of some use to me, at least I shall get a little money by it for the time I have it; it being designed that I must really be a Captain to be able to sit in this Court. They stayed till about eight at night, and then away, and my wife to read to me, and then to bed in mighty good humour, but for my eyes.
. Up, and to my office with Tom, whom I made to read to me the books of Propositions in the time of the Grand Commission, which I did read a good part of before church, and then with my wife to church, where I did see my milliner’s wife come again, which pleased me; but I durst not be seen to mind her for fear of my wife’s seeing me, though the woman I did never speak twenty words to, and that but only in her husband’s shop. But so fearful I am of discontenting my wife, or giving her cause of jealousy. But here we heard a most excellent good sermon of Mr. Gifford’s, upon the righteousness of Scribes and Pharisees. So home to dinner and to work again, and so till dinner, where W. Howe come and dined with me, and stayed and read in my Lord Cooke upon his chapter of perjury again, which pleased me, and so parted, and I to my office, and there made an end of the books of Propositions, which did please me mightily to hear read, they being excellently writ and much to the purpose, and yet so as I think I shall make good use of his defence of our present constitution. About four o’clock took coach to visit my cousin Turner, and I out with her to make a visit, but the lady she went to see was abroad. So back and to talk with her and her daughters, and then home, and she and I to walk in the garden, the first time this year, the weather being mighty temperate; and then I to write down my Journal for the last week, my eyes being very bad, and therefore I forced to find a way to use by turns with my tube, one after another, and so home to supper and to bed. Before I went from my office this night I did tell Tom my resolution not to keep him after Jane was gone, but shall do well by him, which pleases him; and I think he will presently marry her, and go away out of my house with her.
. Up, and by water with W. Hewer to the Temple; and thence to the Rolls, where I made inquiry for several rolls, and was soon informed in the manner of it: and so spent the whole morning with W. Hewer, he taking little notes in shorthand, while I hired a clerk there to read to me about twelve or more several rolls which I did call for: and it was great pleasure to me to see the method wherein their rolls are kept; that when the Master of the Office, one Mr. Case, do call for them, who is a man that I have heretofore known by coming to my Lord of Sandwich’s, he did most readily turn to them. At noon they shut up; and W. Hewer and I did walk to the Cocke, at the end of Suffolk Street, where I never was, a great ordinary, mightily cried up, and there bespoke a pullet; which while dressing, he and I walked into St. James’s Park, and thence back, and dined very handsome, with a good soup, and a pullet, for 4s. 6d. the whole. Thence back to the Rolls, and did a little more business: and so by water to Whitehall, whither. I went to speak with Mr. Williamson, that if he hath any papers relating to the Navy I might see them, which he promises me: and so by water home, with great content for what I have this day found, having got almost as much as I desire of the history of the Navy, from 1618 to 1642, when the King and Parliament fell out. So home, and did get my wife to read, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, after having visited Sir W. Coventry at the Tower, and walked with him upon the Stone Walk, alone, till other company come to him, and had very good discourse with him. At noon home, where my wife and Jane gone abroad, and Tom, in order to their buying of things for their wedding, which, upon my discourse the last night, is now resolved to be done, upon the 26th of this month, the day of my solemnity for my cutting of the stone, when my cousin Turner must be with us. My wife, therefore, not at dinner; and comes to me Mr. Evelyn of Deptford, a worthy good man, and dined with me, but a bad dinner; who is grieved for, and speaks openly to me his thoughts of, the times, and our ruin approaching; and all by the folly of the King. His business to me was about some ground of his, at Deptford,4445 next to the King’s yard: and after dinner we parted. My sister Michell coming also this day to see us, whom I left there, and I away down by water with W. Hewer to Woolwich, where I have not been I think more than a year or two, and here I saw, but did not go on board, my ship The Jerzy, she lying at the wharf under repair. But my business was to speak with Ackworth, about some old things and passages in the Navy, for my information therein, in order to my great business now of stating the history of the Navy. This I did; and upon the whole do find that the late times, in all their management, were not more husbandly than we; and other things of good content to me. His wife was sick, and so I could not see her. Thence, after seeing Mr. Sheldon, I to Greenwich by water, and there landed at the King’s house, which goes on slow, but is very pretty.4446 I to the Park, there to see the prospect of the hill, to judge of Dancre’s picture, which he hath made thereof for me: and I do like it very well: and it is a very pretty place. Thence to Deptford, but stayed not, Uthwayte being out of the way: and so home, and then to the Ship Tavern, Morrice’s, and stayed till W. Hewer fetched his uncle Blackburne by appointment to me, to discourse of the business of the Navy in the late times; and he did do it, by giving me a most exact account in writing, of the several turns in the Admiralty and Navy, of the persons employed therein, from the beginning of the King’s leaving the Parliament, to his Son’s coming in, to my great content; and now I am fully informed in all I at present desire. We fell to other talk; and I find by him that the Bishops must certainly fall, and their hierarchy; these people4447 have got so much ground upon the King and kingdom as is not to be got again from them: and the Bishops do well deserve it. But it is all the talk, I find, that Dr. Wilkins, my friend, the Bishop of Chester, shall be removed to Winchester, and be Lord Treasurer.4448 Though this be foolish talk, yet I do gather that he is a mighty rising man, as being a Latitudinarian, and the Duke of Buckingham his great friend. Here we stayed talking till 10 at night, where I did never drink before since this man come to the house, though for his pretty wife’s sake I do fetch my wine from this, whom I could not nevertheless get para see tonight, though her husband did seem to call for her. So parted here and I home, and to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by water to see Mr. Wren, and then Mr. Williamson, who did show me the very original bookes of propositions made by the Commissioners for the Navy, in 1618, to my great content; but no other Navy papers he could now show me. Thence to Westminster by water and to the Hall, where Mrs. Michell do surprise me with the news that Doll Lane is suddenly brought to bed at her sister’s lodging, and gives it out that she is married, but there is no such thing certainly, she never mentioning it before, but I have cause to rejoice that I have not seen her a great while, she having several times desired my company, but I doubt to an evil end. Thence to the Exchequer, where W. Hewer come to me, and after a little business did go by water home, and there dined, and took my wife by a hackney to the King’s playhouse, and saw The Coxcomb,4449 the first time acted, but an old play, and a silly one, being acted only by the young people. Here met cousin Turner and The. So parted there from them, and home by coach and to my letters at the office, where pretty late, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to see Sir W. Coventry, and walked with him a good while in the Stone Walk: and brave discourse about my Lord Chancellor, and his ill managements and mistakes, and several things of the Navy, and thence to the office, where we sat all the morning, and so home to dinner, where my wife mighty finely dressed, by a maid that she hath taken, and is to come to her when Jane goes; and the same she the other day told me of, to be so handsome. I therefore longed to see her, but did not till after dinner, that my wife and I going by coach, she went with us to Holborne, where we set her down. She is a mighty proper maid, and pretty comely, but so so; but hath a most pleasing tone of voice, and speaks handsomely, but hath most great hands, and I believe ugly; but very well dressed, and good clothes, and the maid I believe will please me well enough. Thence to visit Ned Pickering and his lady, and Creed and his wife, but the former abroad, and the latter out of town, gone to my Lady Pickering’s in Northamptonshire, upon occasion of the late death of their brother, Oliver Pickering, a youth, that is dead of the smallpox. So my wife and I to Dancre’s to see the pictures; and thence to Hyde Park, the first time we were there this year, or ever in our own coach, where with mighty pride rode up and down, and many coaches there; and I thought our horses and coach as pretty as any there, and observed so to be by others.4450 Here stayed till night, and so home, and to the office, where busy late, and so home to supper and to bed, with great content, but much business in my head of the office, which troubles me.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, there to the Lords of the Treasury, and did some business, and here Sir Thomas Clifford did speak to me, as desirous that I would some time come and confer with him about the Navy, which I am glad of, but will take the direction of the Duke of York before I do it, though I would be glad to do something to secure myself, if I could, in my employment. Thence to the plaisterer’s, and took my face, and my Lord Duke of Albemarle’s, home with me by coach, they being done to my mind; and mighty glad I am of understanding this way of having the pictures of any friends. At home to dinner, where Mr. Sheres dined with us, but after dinner I left him and my wife, and with Commissioner Middleton and Kempthorne4451 to a Court-martiall, to which, by virtue of my late Captainship, I am called, the first I was ever at; where many Commanders, and Kempthorne president. Here was tried a difference between Sir L. Van Hemskirke,4452 the Dutch Captain who commands The Nonsuch, built by his direction, and his Lieutenant; a drunken kind of silly business. We ordered the Lieutenant to ask him pardon, and have resolved to lay before the Duke of York what concerns the Captain, which was striking of his Lieutenant and challenging him to fight, which comes not within any article of the laws martiall. But upon discourse the other day with Sir W. Coventry, I did advise Middleton, and he and I did forbear to give judgment, but after the debate did withdraw into another cabin, the Court being held in one of the yachts, which was on purpose brought up over against St. Katharine’s, it being to be feared that this precedent of our being made Captains, in order to the trying of the loss of The Defiance, wherein we are the proper persons to enquire into the want of instructions while ships do lie in harbour, evil use might be hereafter made of the precedent by putting the Duke of Buckingham, or any of these rude fellows that now are uppermost, to make packed Courts, by Captains made on purpose to serve their turns. The other cause was of the loss of The Providence at Tangier, where the Captain’s being by chance on shore may prove very inconvenient to him, for example’s sake, though the man be a good man, and one whom, for Norwood’s sake, I would be kind to; but I will not offer anything to the excusing such a miscarriage. He is at present confined, till he can bring better proofs on his behalf of the reasons of his being on shore. So Middleton and I away to the Office; and there I late busy, making my people, as I have done lately, to read Mr. Holland’s4453Discourse of the Navy, and what other things I can get to inform me fully in all; and here late, about eight at night, comes Mr. Wren to me, who had been at the Tower to Coventry. He come only to see how matters go, and tells me, as a secret, that last night the Duke of York’s closet was broken open, and his cabinets, and shut again, one of them that the rogue that did it hath left plate and a watch behind him, and therefore they fear that it was only for papers, which looks like a very malicious business in design, to hurt the Duke of York; but they cannot know that till the Duke of York comes to town about the papers, and therefore make no words of it. He gone, I to work again, and then to supper at home, and to bed.
. Up, and to the Tower, to W. Coventry, and there walked with him alone, on the Stone Walk, till company come to him; and there about the business of the Navy discoursed with him, and about my Lord Chancellor and Treasurer; that they were against the war [with the Dutch] at first, declaring, as wise men and statesmen, at first to the King, that they thought it fit to have a war with them at some time or other, but that it ought not to be till we found the Crowns of Spain and France together by the ears, the want of which did ruin our war. But then he told me that, a great deal before the war, my Lord Chancellor did speak of a war with some heat, as a thing to be desired, and did it upon a belief that he could with his speeches make the Parliament give what money he pleased, and do what he would, or would make the King desire; but he found himself soon deceived of the Parliament, they having a long time before his removal been cloyed with his speeches and good words, and were come to hate him. Sir W. Coventry did tell me it, as the wisest thing that ever was said to the King by any statesman of his time, and it was by my Lord Treasurer that is dead, whom, I find, he takes for a very great statesman—that when the King did show himself forward for passing the Act of Indemnity, he did advise the King that he would hold his hand in doing it, till he had got his power restored, that had been diminished by the late times, and his revenue settled in such a manner as he might depend on himself, without resting upon Parliaments—and then pass it. But my Lord Chancellor, who thought he could have the command of Parliaments forever, because for the King’s sake they were awhile willing to grant all the King desired, did press for its being done; and so it was, and the King from that time able to do nothing with the Parliament almost. Thence to the office, where sat all the forenoon, and then home to dinner, and so to the office, where late busy, and so home, mightily pleased with the news brought me tonight, that the King and Duke of York are come back this afternoon, and no sooner come, but a warrant was sent to the Tower for the releasing Sir W. Coventry; which do put me in some hopes that there may be, in this absence, some accommodation made between the Duke of York and the Duke of Buckingham and Arlington. So home, to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and by water over to Southwarke; and then, not getting a boat, I forced to walk to Stangate;4454 and so over to Whitehall, in a scull; where up to the Duke of York’s dressing-room, and there met Harry Saville, and understand that Sir W. Coventry is come to his house last night. I understand by Mr. Wren that his friends having, by Secretary Trevor and my Lord Keeper, applied to the King upon his first coming home, and a promise made that he should be discharged this day, my Lord Arlington did anticipate them, by sending a warrant presently for his discharge which looks a little like kindness, or a desire of it; which God send! though I fear the contrary: however, my heart is glad that he is out. Thence up and down the House. Met with Mr. May,4455 who tells me the story of his being put by Sir John Denham’s place, of Surveyor of the King’s Works, who it seems, is lately dead, by the unkindness of the Duke Buckingham, who hath brought in Dr. Wren:4456 though, he tells me, he hath been his servant for twenty years together in all his wants and dangers, saving him from want of bread by his care and management, and with a promise of having his help in his advancement, and an engagement under his hand for £1,000 not yet paid, and yet the Duke of Buckingham so ungrateful as to put him by: which is an ill thing, though Dr. Wren is a worthy man. But he tells me that the King is kind to him, and hath promised him a pension of £300 a-year out of the Works; which will be of more content to him than the place, which, under their present wants of money, is a place that disobliges most people, being not able to do what they desire to their lodgings. Here meeting with Sir H. Cholmly and Povy, that tell me that my Lord Middleton is resolved in the Cabal that he shall not go to Tangier; and that Sir Edward Harlow [Harley],4457 whom I know not, is propounded to go, who was Governor of Dunkirke, and, they say, a most worthy brave man, which I shall be very glad of. So by water (H. Russell coming for me) home to dinner, where W. Howe comes to dine with me; and after dinner propounds to me my lending him £500, to help him to purchase a place—the Master of the Patent Office, of Sir Richard Piggott. I did give him a civil answer, but shall think twice of it; and the more, because of the changes we are like to have in the Navy, which will not make it fit for me to divide the little I have left more than I have done, God knowing what my condition is, I having not attended, and now not being able to examine what my state is, of my accounts, and being in the world, which troubles me mightily. He gone, I to the office to enter my journal for a week. News is lately come of the Algerines taking £3,000 in money,4458 out of one of our Company’s East India ships, outward bound, which will certainly make the war last; which I am sorry for, being so poor as we are, and broken in pieces. At night my wife to read to me, and then to supper, where Pelling comes to see and sup with us, and I find that he is assisting my wife in getting a licence to our young people4459 to be married this Lent,4460 which is resolved shall be done upon Friday next, my great day, or feast, for my being cut of the stone. So after supper to bed, my eyes being very bad.
. Up, and by water, with W. Hewer, to Whitehall, there to attend the Lords of the Treasury; but, before they sat, I did make a step to see Sir W. Coventry at his house, where, I bless God! he is come again; but in my way I met him, and so he took me into his coach and carried me to Whitehall, and there set me down where he ought not—at least, he hath not yet leave to come, nor hath thought fit to ask it, hearing that Henry Saville is not only denied to kiss the King’s hand, but the King, being asked it by the Duke of York, did deny it, and directed that the Duke shall not receive him, to wait upon him in his chamber, till further orders. Sir W. Coventry told me that he was going to visit Sir John Trevor, who hath been kind to him; and he showed me a long list of all his friends that he must this week make visits to, that come to visit him in the Tower; and seems mighty well satisfied with his being out of business, but I hope he will not long be so; at least, I do believe that all must go to rat if the King do not come to see the want of such a servant. Thence to the Treasury-Chamber, and there all the morning to my great grief, put to do Sir G. Downing’s work of dividing the Customes for this year, between the Navy, the Ordnance and Tangier: but it did so trouble my eyes, that I had rather have given £20 than have had it to do; but I did thereby oblige Sir Thomas Clifford and Sir J. Duncombe, and so am glad of the opportunity to recommend myself to the former for the latter I need not, he loving me well already. At it till noon, here being several of my brethren with me but doing nothing, but I all. But this day I did also represent to our Treasurers, which was read here, a state of the charge of the Navy, and what the expense of it this year would likely be; which is done so as it will appear well done and to my honour, for so the Lords did take it: and I oblige the Treasurers by doing it, at their request. Thence with W. Hewer at noon to Unthanke’s, where my wife stays for me and so to the Cocke, where there was no room, and thence to King Street, to several cook’s shops, where nothing to be had; and at last to the corner shop, going down Ivy Lane, by my Lord of Salisbury’s,4461 and there got a good dinner, my wife, and W. Hewer, and I: and after dinner she, with her coach, home; and he and I to look over my papers for the East India Company, against the afternoon: which done, I with them to Whitehall, and there to the Treasury-Chamber, where the East India Company and three Councillors pleaded against me alone, for three or four hours, till seven at night, before the Lords; and the Lords did give me the conquest on behalf of the King, but could not come to any conclusion, the Company being stiff: and so I think we shall go to law with them. This done, and my eyes mighty bad with this day’s work, I to Mr. Wren’s, and then up to the Duke of York, and there with Mr. Wren did propound to him my going to Chatham tomorrow with Commissioner Middleton, and so this week to make the pay there, and examine the business of The Defiance4462 being lost, and other businesses, which I did the rather, that I might be out of the way at the wedding,4463 and be at a little liberty myself for a day, or two, to find a little pleasure, and give my eyes a little ease. The Duke of York mightily satisfied with it; and so away home, where my wife troubled at my being so late abroad, poor woman! though never more busy, but I satisfied her; and so begun to put things in order for my journey tomorrow, and so, after supper, to bed.
. Up, and to my office to do a little business there, and so, my things being all ready, I took coach with Commissioner Middleton, Captain Tinker,4464 and Mr. Huchinson, a hackney coach, and over the bridge, and so out towards Chatham, and; dined at Dartford, where we stayed an hour or two, it being a cold day; and so on, and got to Chatham just at night, with very good discourse by the way, but mostly of matters of religion, wherein Huchinson his vein lies. After supper, we fell to talk of spirits and apparitions, whereupon many pretty, particular stories were told, so as to make me almost afeard to lie alone, but for shame I could not help it; and so to bed and, being sleepy, fell soon to rest, and so rested well.
. Up, and walked abroad in the garden, and find that Mrs. Tooker has not any of her daughters here as I expected and so walked to the yard, leaving Middleton at the pay, and there I only walked up and down the yard, and then to the Hill-House, and there did give order for the coach to be made ready; and got Mr. Gibson, whom I carried with me, to go with me and Mr. Coney, the surgeon, towards Maidstone which I had a mighty mind to see, and took occasion, in my way, at St. Margett’s, to pretend to call to see Captain Allen to see whether Mrs. Jowles,4465 his daughter, was there; and there his wife come to the door, he being at London, and through a window, I spied Jowles, but took no notice of her but made excuse till night, and then promised to come and see Mrs. Allen again, and so away, it being a mighty cold and windy, but clear day; and had the pleasure of seeing the Medway running, winding up and down mightily, and a very fine country; and I went a little out of the way to have visited Sir John Bankes, but he at London; but here I had a sight of his seat4466 and house, the outside, which is an old abbey just like Hinchingbroke, and as good at least, and mighty finely placed by the river; and he keeps the grounds about it, and walls and the house, very handsome: I was mightily pleased with the sight of it. Thence to Maidstone, which I had a mighty mind to see, having never been there; and walked all up and down the town, and up to the top of the steeple, and had a noble view, and then down again: and in the town did see an old man beating of flax, and did step into the barn and give him money, and saw that piece of husbandry which I never saw, and it is very pretty: in the street also I did buy and send to our inne, the Bell, a dish of fresh fish. And so, having walked all round the town, and found it very pretty, as most towns I ever saw, though not very big, and people of good fashion in it, we to our inne to dinner, and had a good dinner; and after dinner a barber come to me, and there trimmed me, that I might be clean against night, to go to Mrs. Allen. And so, staying till about four o’clock, we set out, I alone in the coach going and coming; and in our way back, I ’light out of the way to see a Saxon monument,4467 as they say, of a King, which is three stones standing upright, and a great round one lying on them, of great bigness, although not so big as those on Salisbury Plain; but certainly it is a thing of great antiquity, and I mightily glad to see it; it is near to Aylesford, where Sir John Bankes lives. So homeward, and stopped again at Captain Allen’s, and there ’light, and sent the coach and Gibson home, and I and Coney stayed; and there comes to us Mrs. Jowles, who is a very fine, proper lady, as most I know, and well dressed. Here was also a gentleman, one Major Manly,4468 and his wife, neighbours; and here we stayed, and drank, and talked, and set Coney and him to play while Mrs. Jowles and I to talk, and there had all our old stories up, and there I had the liberty to salute her often, and pull off her glove, where her hand mighty moist, and she mighty free in kindness to me, and je do not at all doubt that I might have had that that I would have desired de elle had I had time to have carried her to Cobham, as she, upon my proposing it, was very willing to go, for elle is a whore, that is certain, but a very brave and comely one. Here was a pretty cousin of hers come in to supper also, of a great fortune, daughter-in-law to this Manly, mighty pretty, but had now such a cold, she could not speak. Here mightily pleased with Mrs. Jowles, and did get her to the street door, and there to her su breasts, and baiser her without any force, and credo that I might have had all else, but it was not time nor place. Here stayed till almost twelve at night, and then with a lantern from thence walked over the fields, as dark as pitch, and mighty cold, and snow, to Chatham, and Mr. Coney with great kindness to me: and there all in bed before I come home, and so I presently to bed.
. Up, and by and by, about eight o’clock, come Rear-Admiral Kempthorne and seven Captains more, by the Duke of York’s order, as we expected, to hold the Court-martiall about the loss of The Defiance; and so presently we by boat to The Charles, which lies over against Upnor Castle, and there we fell to the business; and there I did manage the business, the Duke of York having, by special order, directed them to take the assistance of Commissioner Middleton and me, forasmuch as there might be need of advice in what relates to the government of the ships in harbour. And so I did lay the law open to them, and rattle the Master Attendants out of their wits almost; and made the trial last till seven at night, not eating a bit all the day; only when we had done examination, and I given my thoughts that the neglect of the Gunner of the ship was as great as I thought any neglect could be, which might by the law deserve death, but Commissioner Middleton did declare that he was against giving the sentence of death, we withdrew, as not being of the Court, and so left them to do what they pleased; and, while they were debating it, the Boatswain of the ship did bring us out of the kettle a piece of hot salt beef, and some brown bread and brandy; and there we did make a little meal, but so good as I never would desire to eat better meat while I live, only I would have cleaner dishes. By and by they had done, and called us down from the quarterdeck; and there we find they do sentence that the Gunner of The Defiance4469 should stand upon The Charles three hours with his fault writ upon his breast, and with a halter about his neck, and so be made incapable of any office. The truth is, the man do seem, and is, I believe, a good man; but his neglect, in trusting a girl to carry fire into his cabin, is not to be pardoned. This being done, we took boat and home; and there a good supper was ready for us, which should have been our dinner. The Captains, desirous to be at London, went away presently for Gravesend, to get thither by this night’s tide; and so we to supper, it having been a great snowy and mighty cold, foul day; and so after supper to bed.
. Up, and with Middleton all the morning at the Docke, looking over the storehouses and Commissioner Pett’s house, in order to Captain Cox’s coming to live there in his stead, as Commissioner. But it is a mighty pretty house; and pretty to see how everything is said to be out of repair for this new man, though £10 would put it into as good condition in everything as it ever was in, so free everybody is of the King’s money. By and by to Mr. Wilson’s, and there drank, but did not see his wife, nor any woman in the yard, and so to dinner at the Hill-House; and after dinner, till eight at night, close, Middleton and I, examining the business of Mr. Pett, about selling a boat, and we find him a very knave; and some other quarrels of his, wherein, to justify himself, he hath made complaints of others. This being done, we to supper, and so to talk, Commissioner Middleton being mighty good company upon a journey, and so to bed, thinking how merry my people are at this time, putting Tom and Jane to bed, being to have been married this day, it being also my feast for my being cut of the stone, but how many years I do not remember, but I think it to be about ten or eleven.4470
. Up, and did a little business, Middleton and I, then, after drinking a little buttered ale, he and Huchinson and I took coach, and, exceeding merry in talk, to Dartford: Middleton finding stories of his own life at Barbados, and up and down at Venice, and elsewhere, that are mighty pretty, and worth hearing; and he is a strange good companion, and droll upon the road, more than ever I could have thought to have been in him. Here we dined and met Captain Allen of Rochester, who dined with us, and so went on his journey homeward, and we by and by took coach again and got home about six at night, it being all the morning as cold, snowy, windy, and rainy day, as any in the whole winter past, but pretty clear in the afternoon. I find all well, but my wife abroad with Jane, who was married yesterday, and I to the office busy, till by and by my wife comes home, and so home, and there hear how merry they were yesterday, and I glad at it, they being married, it seems, very handsomely, at Islington; and dined at the old house, and lay in our blue chamber, with much company, and wonderful merry. The. Turner and Mary Batelier bridesmaids, and Talbot Pepys and W. Hewer bridesmen. Anon to supper and to bed, my head a little troubled with the muchness of the business I have upon me at present. So to bed.
. Lay long talking with pleasure with my wife, and so up and to the Office with Tom, who looks mighty smug upon his marriage, as Jane also do, both of whom I did give joy, and so Tom and I at work at the Office all the morning, till dinner, and then dined, W. Batelier with us; and so after dinner to work again, and sent for Gibson, and kept him also till eight at night, doing much business. And so, that being done, and my journal writ, my eyes being very bad, and every day worse and worse, I fear: but I find it most certain that stronge drinks do make my eyes sore, as they have done heretofore always; for, when I was in the country, when my eyes were at the best, their stronge beere would make my eyes sore: so home to supper, and by and by to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall; and there to the Duke of York, to show myself, after my journey to Chatham, but did no business today with him: only after gone from him, I to Sir T. Clifford’s; and there, after an hour’s waiting, he being alone in his closet, I did speak with him, and give him the account he gave me to draw up, and he did like it very well: and then fell to talk of the business of the Navy and giving me good words, did fall foul of the constitution [of the Board], and did then discover his thoughts, that Sir J. Minnes was too old, and so was Colonel Middleton, and that my Lord Brouncker did mind his mathematics too much. I did not give much encouragement to that of finding fault with my fellow-officers; but did stand up for the constitution, and did say that what faults there were in our Office would be found not to arise from the constitution, but from the failures of the officers in whose hands it was. This he did seem to give good ear to; but did give me of myself very good words, which pleased me well, though I shall not build upon them anything. Thence home; and after dinner by water with Tom down to Greenwich, he reading to me all the way, coming and going, my collections out of the Duke of York’s old manuscript of the Navy, which I have bound up, and do please me mightily. At Greenwich I come to Captain Cocke’s, where the house full of company, at the burial of James Temple, who, it seems, hath been dead these five days here I had a very good ring, which I did give my wife as soon as I come home. I spent my time there walking in the garden, talking with James Pierce, who tells me that he is certain that the Duke of Buckingham had been with his wenches all the time that he was absent, which was all the last week, nobody knowing where he was. The great talk is of the King’s being hot of late against Conventicles, and to see whether the Duke of Buckingham’s being returned will turn the King, which will make him very popular: and some think it is his plot to make the King thus, to show his power in the making him change his mind. But Pierce did tell me that the King did certainly say, that he that took one stone from the Church, did take two from his Crown. By and by the corpse come out; and I, with Sir Richard Browne and Mr. Evelyn, in their coach to the church, where Mr. Plume preached. But I, in the midst of the sermon, did go out, and walked all alone, round to Deptford, thinking para have seen the wife of Bagwell, which I did at her door, but I could not conveniently go into her house, and so lost my labour: and so to the King’s Yard, and there my boat by order met me; and home, where I made my boy to finish the my manuscript, and so to supper and to bed. This day my new chambermaid, that comes in the room of Jane, is come, Jane and Tom lying at their own lodging this night: the new maid’s name is Matt, a proper and very comely maid … This day also our cook-maid Bridget went away, which I was sorry for; but, just at her going she was found to be a thief, and so I was the less trouble for it; but now our whole house will, in a manner, be new which, since Jane is gone, I am not at all sorry for, for that my late differences with my wife about poor Deb. will not be remembered. So to bed after supper, and to sleep with great content.
. Up, and to Sir W. Coventry, to see and discourse with him; and he tells me that he hath lately been with my Lord Keeper, and had much discourse about the Navy; and particularly he tells me that he finds they are divided touching me and my Lord Brouncker; some are for removing, and some for keeping us. He told my Lord Keeper that it would cost the King £10,000 before he hath made another as fit to serve him in the Navy as I am; which, though I believe it is true, yet I am much pleased to have that character given me by W. Coventry, whatever be the success of it. But I perceive they do think that I know too much, and shall impose upon whomever shall come next, and therefore must be removed, though he tells me that Sir T. Clifford is inclined well enough to me, and Sir T. Osborne; by what I have lately done, I suppose. This news do a little trouble me, but yet, when I consider it, it is but what I ought not to be much troubled for, considering my incapacity, in regard to my eyes, to continue long at this work, and this when I think of and talk with my wife do make me the less troubled for it. After some talk of the business of the navy more with him, I away and to the Office, where all the morning; and Sir W. Penn, the first time that he hath been here since his being last sick, which, I think, is two or three months; and I think will be the last that he will be here as one of the Board, he now inviting us all to dine with him, as a parting dinner, on Thursday next, which I am glad of, I am sure; for he is a very villain. At noon home to dinner, where, and at the office, all the afternoon, troubled at what I have this morning heard, at least my mind full of thoughts upon it, and so at night after supper to bed.
. Up, and by water to Sir W. Coventry’s, there to talk with him about business of the Navy, and received from him direction what to advise the Duke of York at this time, which was, to submit and give way to the King’s naming a man or two, that the people about him have a mind should be brought into the Navy, and perhaps that may stop their fury in running further against the whole; and this, he believes, will do it. After much discourse with him, I walked out with him into St. James’s Park, where, being afeard to be seen with him, he having not leave yet to kiss the King’s hand, but notice taken, as I hear, of all that go to him, I did take the pretence of my attending the Tangier Committee, to take my leave, though to serve him I should, I think, stick at nothing. At the Committee, this morning, my Lord Middleton declares at last his being ready to go, as soon as ever money can be made ready to pay the garrison: and so I have orders to get money, but how soon I know not. Thence home, and there find Mr. Sheres, for whom I find my moher of late to talk with mighty kindness; and particularly he hath shown himself to be a poet, and that she do mightily value him for. He did not stay to dine with us, but we to dinner; and then, in the afternoon, my wife being very well dressed by her new maid, we abroad, to make a visit to Mrs. Pickering; but she abroad again, and so we never yet saw her. Thence to Dancre’s, and there, saw our pictures which are in doing; and I did choose a view of Rome instead of Hampton Court; and mightily pleased I shall be in them. Here were Sir Charles Cotterell and his son bespeaking something; both ingenious men. Thence my wife and I to the Park; and pretty store of company; and so home with great content the month, my mind in pretty good content for all things, but the designs on foot to bring alterations in the Office, which troubles me.
April 1669
. Up, and with Colonel Middleton, at the desire of Rear-Admiral Kempthorne, the President, for our assisting them, to the Court-martiall on board a yacht in the River here, to try the business of the Purser’s complaints, Baker against Trevanion, his Commander, of The Dartmouth. But, Lord! to see what wretched doings there were among all the Commanders to ruin the Purser, and defend the Captain in all his rogueries, be it to the prejudice of the King or Purser, no good man could bear! I confess I was pretty high, which did not at least the young gentlemen Commanders like; and Middleton did the like. But could not bring it to any issue this day, sitting till two o’clock; and therefore we being sent for, went to Sir W. Penn’s by invitation to dine; where my wife was, and my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, and Sir J. Minnes and his niece; and here a bad dinner, and little mirth, I being little pleased with my host. However, I made myself sociable; and so, after dinner, my wife and I, with my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, they set us down at my cousin Turner’s, and there we stayed awhile and talked; and particularly here we met with Dr. Ball,4471 the Parson of the Temple, who did tell me a great many pretty stories about the manner of the Parsons being paid for their preaching at Paul’s heretofore, and now, and the ground of the Lecture, and heretofore the names of the founders thereof, which were many, at some 5s., some 6s. per annum towards it: and had their names read in the pulpit every sermon among those holy persons that the Church do order a collect for, giving God thanks for. By and by comes by my desire Commissioner Middleton’s coach and horses for us, and we went with it towards the Park, thinking to have met The. Turner and Betty, but did not; so turned back again to their lodging, and there found them and Mr. Batelier, and there, after a little talk, we took leave, and carry Batelier home with us. So to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there with the Office attended the Duke of York, and stayed in Whitehall till about noon, and so with W. Hewer to the Cocke, and there he and I dined alone with great content, he reading to me, for my memory’s sake, my late collections of the history of the Navy, that I might represent the same by and by to the Duke of York; and so, after dinner, he and I to Whitehall, and there to the Duke of York’s lodgings, whither he, by and by, by his appointment come: and alone with him an hour in his closet, telling him mine and W. Coventry’s advice touching the present posture of the Navy, as the Duke of Buckingham and the rest do now labour to make changes therein; and that it were best for him to suffer the King to be satisfied with the bringing in of a man or two which they desire. I did also give the Duke of York a short account of the history of the Navy, as to our Office, wherewith he was very well satisfied: but I do find that he is pretty stiff against their bringing in of men against his mind, as the Treasures were, and particularly against Child’s4472 coming in, because he is a merchant. After much discourse with him, we parted; and [he to] the Council, while I stayed waiting for his telling me when I should be ready to give him a written account of the administration of the Navy. This caused me to wait the whole afternoon, till night. In the meantime, stepping to the Duchess of York’s side to speak with Lady Peterborough; I did see the young Duchess,4473 a little child in hanging sleeves, dance most finely, so as almost to ravish me, her ears were so good: taught by a Frenchman that did heretofore teach the King, and all the King’s children, and the Queen-Mother herself, who do still dance well. Thence to the council door and Mr. Chevins took me into the back stairs, and they with his friend, Mr. Fowkes, for whom he is very solicitous in some things depending in this Office, he did make me, with some others that he took in (among others, Alderman Backewell), eat a pickled herring, the largest I ever saw, and drink variety of wines till I was almost merry; but I did keep in good tune; and so, after the Council was up, I home; and there find my wife not yet come home from Deptford, where she hath been all this day to see her mother, but she come and by, and so to talk, and supper, and to bed. This night I did bring home from the King’s potticary’s, in Whitehall by Mr. Cooling’s direction, a water that he says did him mighty good for his eyes. I pray God it may do me good; but, by his description, his disease was the same as mine, and this do encourage me to use it.
. Up, and to the Council of War again, with Middleton: but the proceedings of the Commanders so devilishly bad, and so professedly partial to the Captain, that I could endure it no longer, but took occasion to pretend business at the Office, and away, and Colonel Middleton with me, who was of the same mind, and resolved to declare our minds freely to the Duke of York about it. So to the office, where we sat all the morning. Then home to dinner, and so back to the office, where busy late till night, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to church, where Alderman Backewell’s wife, by my invitation with my head, come up with her mother, and sat with us, and after sermon I did walk with them home, and there left them, and home to dinner, and after dinner with Sir J. Minnes and T. Middleton to Whitehall, by appointment; and at my Lord Arlington’s the Office did attend the King and Cabal, to discourse the further quantity of victuals fit to be declared for, which was 2,000 men for six months; and so without more ado or stay, there, hearing no news but that Sir Thomas Allen is to be expected every hour at home with his fleet, or news of his being gone back to Algier, and so home, where got my wife to read to me; and so after supper to bed. The Queen-Mother hath been of late mighty ill, and some fears of her death.
. Up, and by coach, it being very cold, to Whitehall, expecting a meeting of Tangier, but it did not. But, however, did wait there all the morning, and, among other things, I spent a little time with Creed walking in the garden, and talking about our Office, and Child’s coming in to be a Commissioner; and, being his friend, I did think he might do me a kindness to learn of him what the Duke of Buckingham and the faction do design touching me, and to instil good words concerning me, which he says, and I believe he will: and it is but necessary; for I have not a mind indeed at this time to be put out of my Office, if I can make any shift that is honourable to keep it; but I will not do it by deserting the Duke of York. At noon by appointment comes Mr. Sheres, and he and I to Unthanke’s, where my wife stays for us in our coach, and Betty Turner with her; and we to the Mulberry Garden, where Sheres is to treat us with a Spanish Olio,4474 by a cook of his acquaintance that is there, that was with my Lord in Spain: and without any other company, he did do it, and mighty nobly; and the Olio was indeed a very noble dish, such as I never saw better, or any more of. This, and the discourse he did give us of Spain, and description of the Escuriall, was a fine treat. So we left other good things, that would keep till night, for a collation; and, with much content, took coach again, and went five or six miles towards Branford,4475 the Prince of Tuscany,4476 who comes into England only to spend money and see our country, comes into the town today, and is much expected; and we met him, but the coach passing by apace, we could not see much of him but he seems a very jolly and good comely man. By the way, we overtook Captain Ferrers upon his fine Spanish horse, and he is a fine horse indeed; but not so good, I think, as I have seen some. He did ride by us most of the way, and with us to the Park, and there left us, where we passed the evening, and meeting The. Turner, Talbot, W. Batelier, and his sister, in a coach, we anon took them with us to the Mulberry Garden; and there, after a walk, to supper upon what was left at noon; and very good; only Mr. Sheres being taken suddenly ill for a while, did spoil our mirth; but by and by was well again, and we mighty merry: and so broke up, and left him at Charing Cross, and so calling only at my cousin Turner’s, away home, mightily pleased with the day’s work, and this day come another new maid, for a middle maid, but her name I know not yet; and, for a cook-maid, we have, ever since Bridget went, used a blackmoore of Mr. Batelier’s, Doll, who dresses our meat mighty well, and we mightily pleased with her. So by and by to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, and thence to the Excise Office about some business, and so back to the office and sat till late, and thence to Mr. Batelier’s to dinner, where my cousin Turner and both her daughters, and Talbot Pepys and my wife, and a mighty fine dinner. They at dinner before I come; and, when I had dined, I away home, and thence to Whitehall, where the Board waited on the Duke of York to discourse about the disposing of Sir Thomas Allen’s fleet, which is newly come home to Portsmouth; and here Middleton and I did in plain terms acquaint the Duke of York what we thought and had observed in the late Court-martiall, which the Duke did give ear to; and though he thinks not fit to revoke what is already done in this case by a Court-martiall, yet it shall bring forth some good laws in the behaviour of Captains to their under Officers for the time to come. Thence home, and there, after a while at the Office, I home, and there come home my wife, who hath been with Batelier’s late, and been dancing with the company, at which I seemed a little troubled, not being sent for thither myself, but I was not much so, but went to bed well enough pleased.
. Up, and by coach to my cousin Turner’s, and invited them to dine at the Cocke today, with my wife and me; and so to the Lords of the Treasury, where all the morning, and settled matters to their liking about the assignments on the Customes, between the Navy Office and Victualler, and to that end spent most of the morning there with D. Gawden, and thence took him to the Cocke, and there left him and my clerk Gibson together evening their reckonings, while I to the New Exchange to talk with Betty,4477 my little sempstress; and so to Mrs. Turner’s, to call them to dinner, but my wife not come, I back again, and was overtaken by a porter, with a message from my wife that she was ill, and could not come to us: so I back again to Mrs. Turner’s, and find them gone; and so back again to the Cocke, and there find Mr. Turner, Betty, and Talbot Pepys, and they dined with myself Sir D. Gawden and Gibson, and mighty merry, this house being famous for good meat, and particularly pease-porridge and after dinner broke up, and they away; and I to the Council-Chamber, and there heard the great complaint of the City, tried against the gentlemen of the Temple, for the late riot, as they would have it, when my Lord Mayor was there. But, upon hearing the whole business, the City was certainly to blame to charge them in this manner as with a riot: but the King and Council did forbear to determine anything it, till the other business of the title and privilege be decided which is now under dispute at law between them, whether Temple be within the liberty of the City or no.4478 But I, sorry to see the City so ill advised as to complain in a thing where their proofs were so weak. Thence to my cousin Turner’s, and thence with her and her daughters, and her sister Turner, I carrying Betty in my lap, to Talbot’s chamber at the Temple, where, by agreement, the poor rogue had a pretty dish of anchovies and sweetmeats for them; and hither come Mr. Eden,4479 who was in his mistress’s disfavour ever since the other night that he come in thither fuddled, when we were there. But I did make them friends by my buffoonery, and bringing up a way of spelling their names, and making Theophila spell Lamton, which The. would have to be the name of Mr. Eden’s mistress, and mighty merry we were till late, and then I by coach home, and so to bed, my wife being ill of those, but well enough pleased with my being with them. This day I do hear that Betty Turner is to be left at school at Hackney, which I am mightily pleased with; for then I shall, now and then, see her. She is pretty, and a girl for that, and her relations, I love.
. Up, and to Whitehall, to the King’s side, to find Sir T. Clifford, where the Duke of York come and found me, which I was sorry for, for fear he should think I was making friends on that side. But I did put it off the best I could, my being there: and so, by and by, had opportunity alone to show Sir T. Clifford the fair account I had drawn up of the Customes, which he liked, and seemed mightily pleased with me; and so away to the Excise-Office, to do a little business there, and so to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again till the evening, and then with my wife by coach to Islington, to pay what we owe there, for the late dinner at Jane’s wedding; and so round by Kingsland and Hogsden4480 home, pleased with my wife’s singing with me, by the way, and so to the office again a little, and then home to supper and to bed. Going this afternoon through Smithfield, I did see a coach run over the coachman’s neck, and stand upon it, and yet the man rose up, and was well after it, which I thought a wonder.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there, with the Board, attended the Duke of York, and Sir Thomas Allen with us (who come to town yesterday); and it is resolved another fleet shall go to the Streights forthwith, and he command it. But his coming home is mighty hardly talked on by the merchants, for leaving their ships there to the mercy of the Turks: but of this more in my White-Booke. Thence out, and slipped out by water to Westminster Hall, and there thought to have spoke with Mrs. Martin, but she was not there, nor at home. So back again, and with W. Hewer by coach home and to dinner, and then to the office, and out again with W. Hewer to the Excise-Office, and to several places; among others, to Mr. Faythorne’s, to have seen an instrument which he was said to have, for drawing perspectives, but he had it not: but here I did see his workhouse, and the best things of his doing he had by him, and so to other places, among others to Westminster Hall, and I took occasion to make a step to Mrs. Martin’s, the first time I have been with her since her husband went last to sea, which is I think a year since. … But, Lord! to hear how sillily she tells the story of her sister Doll’s being a widow and lately brought to bed, and her husband, one Rowland Powell, drowned, that was at sea with her husband, but by chance dead at sea, cast away. When God knows she hath played the whore, and is sillily forced at this time after she was brought to bed, to forge this story. Thence calling at several places by the way, we home, and there to the office, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the Excise-Office, and thence to Whitehall a little, and so back again to the ’Change, but nobody there, it being over, and so walked home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr. Seymour to visit me, a talking fellow: but I hear by him that Captain Trevanion4481 do give it out everywhere, that I did overrule the whole Court-martiall against him, as long as I was there; and perhaps I may receive, this time, some wrong by it: but I care not, for what I did was out of my desire of doing justice. So the office, where late, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Easter day). Up, and to Church; where Alderman Backewell’s wife, and mother, and boy, and another gentlewoman, did come, and sit in our pew; but no women of our own there, and so there was room enough. Our Parson made a dull sermon, and so home to dinner; and, after dinner, my wife and I out by coach, and Balty with us, to Loton,4482 the landscape-drawer, a Dutchman, living in St. James’s Market,4483 but there saw no good pictures. But by accident he did direct us to a painter that was then in the house with him, a Dutchman, newly come over, one Evarelst,4484 who took us to his lodging close by, and did show us a little flowerpot of his doing, the finest thing that ever, I think, I saw in my life; the drops of dew hanging on the leaves, so as I was forced, again and again, to put my finger to it, to feel whether my eyes were deceived or no. He do ask £70 for it: I had the vanity to bid him £20; but a better picture I never saw in my whole life; and it is worth going twenty miles to see it. Thence, leaving Balty there, I took my wife to St. James’s, and there carried her to the Queen’s Chapel, the first time I ever did it; and heard excellent music, but not so good as by accident I did hear there yesterday, as I went through the Park from Whitehall to see Sir W. Coventry, which I have forgot to set down in my journal yesterday. And going out of the Chapel, I did see the Prince of Tuscany4485 come out, a comely, black, fat man, in a mourning suit; and my wife and I did see him this afternoon through a window in this Chapel. All that Sir W. Coventry yesterday did tell me new was, that the King would not yet give him leave to come to kiss his hand; and he do believe that he will not in a great while do it, till those about him shall see fit, which I am sorry for. Thence to the Park, my wife and I; and here Sir W. Coventry did first see me and my wife in a coach of our own; and so did also this night the Duke of York, who did eye my wife mightily. But I begin to doubt that my being so much seen in my own coach at this time, may be observed to my prejudice; but I must venture it now. So home, and by night home, and so to my office, and there set down my journal, with the help of my left eye through my tube,4486 for fourteen days past; which is so much, as, I hope, I shall not run in arrear again, but the badness of my eyes do force me to it. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, where I of the whole Office attended the Duke of York at his meeting with Sir Thomas Allen and several flag-officers, to consider of the manner of managing the war with Algiers; and, it being a thing I was wholly silent in, I did only observe; and find that their manner of discourse on this weighty affair was very mean and disorderly, the Duke of York himself being the man that I thought spoke most to the purpose. Having done here, I up and down the house, talking with this man and that, and then meeting Mr. Sheres, took him to see the fine flowerpot I saw yesterday, and did again offer £20 for it; but he [Verelst] insists upon £50. Thence I took him to St. James’s, but there was no music, but so walked to Whitehall, and, by and by to my wife at Unthanke’s, and with her was Jane, and so to the Cocke, where they, and I, and Sheres, and Tom dined, my wife having a great desire to eat of their soup made of peas, and dined very well, and thence by water to the Bear-Garden, and there happened to sit by Sir Fretcheville Hollis, who is still full of his vainglorious and profane talk. Here we saw a prize fought between a soldier and country fellow, one Warrell, who promised the least in his looks, and performed the most of valour in his boldness and evenness of mind, and smiles in all he did, that ever I saw and we were all both deceived and infinitely taken with him. He did soundly beat the soldier, and cut him over the head. Thence back to Whitehall, mightily pleased, all of us, with this sight, and particularly this fellow, as a most extraordinary man for his temper and evenness in fighting. And there leaving Sheres, we by our own coach home, and after sitting an hour, thrumming upon my viol, and singing, I to bed, and left my wife to do something to a waistcoat and petticoat she is to wear tomorrow. This evening, coming home, we overtook Alderman Backewell’s coach and his lady, and followed them to their house, and there made them the first visit, where they received us with extraordinary civility, and owning the obligation. But I do, contrary to my expectation, find her something a proud and vainglorious woman, in telling the number of her servants and family and expenses: he is also so, but he was ever of that strain. But here he showed me the model of his houses that he is going to build in Cornhill and Lombard Street; but he hath purchased so much there, that it looks like a little town, and must have cost him a great deal of money.4487
. Up, and at the Office a good while, and then, my wife going down the River to spend the day with her mother at Deptford, I abroad, and first to the milliner’s in Fenchurch Street, over against Rawlinson’s, and there, meeting both him and her in the shop, I bought a pair of gloves, and fell to talk, and found so much freedom that I stayed there the best part of the morning till towards noon, with great pleasure, it being a holiday, and then against my will away and to the ’Change, where I left W. Hewer, and I by hackney-coach to the Spittle,4488 and heard a piece of a dull sermon to my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, and thence saw them all take horse and ride away, which I have not seen together many a-day; their wives also went in their coaches; and, indeed, the sight was mighty pleasing. Thence took occasion to go back to this milliner’s [in Fenchurch Street], whose name I now understand to be Clerke; and there, her husband inviting me up to the balcony, to see the sight go by to dine at Clothworker’s-Hall,4489 I did go up and there saw it go by: and then, there being a good piece of cold roast beef upon the tables and one Margetts, a young merchant that lodges there, and is likely to marry a sister of hers, I stayed and eat, and had much good conversation with her, who hath the vanity to talk of her great friends and father, one Wingate, near Welling,4490 that hath been a Parliament-man. Here also was Stapely: the rope-merchant, and dined with us; and, after spending most of the afternoon also, I away home, and there sent for W. Hewer, and he and I by water to Whitehall to look among other things, for Mr. May, to unbespeak his dining with me tomorrow. But here being in the courtyard, God would have it, I spied Deb., which made my heart and head to work, and I presently could not refrain, but sent W. Hewer away to look for Mr. Wren (W. Hewer, I perceive, did see her, but whether he did see me see her I know not, or suspect my sending him away I know not, but my heart could not hinder me), and I run after her and two women and a man, more ordinary people, and she in her old clothes, and after hunting a little, find them in the lobby of the chapel below stairs, and there I observed she endeavoured to avoid me, but I did speak to her and she to me, and did get her pour dire me ou she demeurs now, and did charge her para say nothing of me that I had vu elle, which she did promise, and so with my heart full of surprise and disorder I away, and meeting with Sir H. Cholmley walked into the Park with him and back again, looking to see if I could spy her again in the Park, but I could not. And so back to Whitehall, and then back to the Park with Mr. May, but could see her, no more, and so with W. Hewer, who I doubt by my countenance might see some disorder in me, we home by water, and there I find Talbot Pepys, and Mrs. Turner, and Betty, come to invite us to dinner on Thursday; and, after drinking, I saw them to the waterside, and so back home through Crutched Friars, and there saw Mary Mercer, and put off my hat to her, on the other side of the way, but it being a little darkish she did not, I think, know me well, and so to my office to put my papers in order, they having been removed for my closet to be made clean, and so home to my wife, who is come home from Deptford. But, God forgive me, I hardly know how to put on confidence enough to speak as innocent, having had this passage today with Deb., though only, God knows, by accident. But my great pain is lest God Almighty shall suffer me to find out this girl, whom indeed I love, and with a bad amour, but I will pray to God to give me grace to forbear it. So home to supper, where very sparing in my discourse, not giving occasion of any enquiry where I have been today, or what I have done, and so without any trouble tonight more than my fear, we to bed.
. Up, and with W. Hewer to Whitehall, and there I did speak with the Duke of York, the Council sitting in the morning, and it was to direct me to have my business ready of the Administration of the Office against Saturday next, when the King would have a hearing of it. Thence home, W. Hewer with me, and then out with my own coach to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw The Impertinents, a play which pleases me well still; but it is with great trouble that I now see a play, because of my eyes, the light of the candles making it very troublesome to me. After the play; my wife and I towards the Park, but it being too late we to Creed’s, and there find him and her [his wife] together alone, in their new house, where I never was before, they lodging before at the next door, and a pretty house it is; but I do not see that they intend to keep any coach. Here they treat us like strangers, quite according to the fashion—nothing to drink or eat, which is a thing that will spoil our ever having any acquaintance with them; for we do continue the old freedom and kindness of England to all our friends. But they do here talk mightily of my Lady Paulina making a very good end, and being mighty religious in her lifetime; and hath left many good notes of sermons and religion; wrote with her own hand, which nobody ever knew of; which I am glad of: but she was always a peevish lady. Thence home, and there to talk and to supper and to bed, all being very safe as to my seeing of poor Deb. yesterday.
. Up, and to the office, and thence before the office sat to the Excise Office with W. Hewer, but found some occasion to go another way to the Temple upon business, and I by Deb.’s direction did know whither in Jewen Street to direct my hackney coachman, while I stayed in the coach in Aldgate Street, to go thither just to enquire whether Mrs. Hunt, her aunt, was in town, who brought me word she was not; I thought this was as much as I could do at once, and therefore went away troubled through that I could do no more but to the office I must go and did, and there all the morning, but coming thither I find Bagwell’s wife, who did give me a little note into my hand, wherein I find her para invite me para meet her in Moorfields this noon, where I might speak with her, and so after the office was up, my wife being gone before by invitation to my cousin Turner’s to dine, I to the place, and there, after walking up and down by the windmills, I did find her and talk with her, but it being holiday and the place full of people, we parted, leaving further discourse and doing to another time. Thence I away, and through Jewen Street, my mind, God knows, running that way, but stopped not, but going down Holborne hill, by the Conduit, I did see Deb. on foot going up the hill. I saw her, and she me, but she made no stop, but seemed unwilling to speak to me; so I away on, but then stopped and ’light, and after her and overtook her at the end of Hosier lane in Smithfield, and without standing in the street desired her to follow me, and I led her into a little blind alehouse within the walls, and there she and I alone fell to talk and baiser la and tokersumamelles, but she mighty coy, and I hope modest. … I did give her in a paper 20s., and we did agree para meet again in the Hall at Westminster on Monday next; and so giving me great hopes by her carriage that she continues modest and honest, we did there part, she going home and I to Mrs. Turner’s, but when I come back to the place where I left my coach it was gone, I having stayed too long, which did trouble me to abuse the poor fellow, so that taking another coach I did direct him to find out the fellow and send him to me. At my cousin Turner’s I find they are gone all to dinner to Povy’s, and thither I, and there they were all, and W. Batelier and his sister, and had dined; but I had good things brought me, and then all up and down the house, and mightily pleased to see the fine rooms: but, the truth is, there are so many bad pictures, that to me make the good ones lose much of the pleasure in seeing them. The. and Betty Turner in new flowered tabby gowns, and so we were pretty merry, only my fear upon me for what I had newly done, do keep my content in. So, about five or six o’clock, away, and I took my wife and the two Bateliers, and carried them homeward, and W. Batelier ’lighting, I carried the women round by Islington, and so down Bishopsgate Street home, and there to talk and sup, and then to bed.
. Up, and to my chamber, where with Mr. Gibson all the morning, and there by noon did almost finish what I had to write about the Administration of the Office to present to the Duke of York, and my wife being gone abroad with W. Hewer, to see the new play today, at the Duke of York’s house, Guzman, I dined alone with my people, and in the afternoon away by coach to Whitehall; and there the Office attended the Duke of York; and being despatched pretty soon, and told that we should not wait on the King, as intended, till Sunday, I thence presently to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there, in the 18d. seat, did get room to see almost three acts of the play; but it seemed to me but very ordinary. After the play done, I into the pit, and there find my wife and W. Hewer; and Sheres got to them, which, so jealous is my nature, did trouble me, though my judgment tells me there is no hurt in it, on neither side; but here I did meet with Shadwell, the poet, who, to my great wonder, do tell me that my Lord of [Orrery] did write this play, trying what he could do in comedy, since his heroic plays could do no more wonders. This do trouble me; for it is as mean a thing, and so he says, as hath been upon the stage a great while; and Harris, who hath no part in it, did come to me, and told me in discourse that he was glad of it, it being a play that will not take.4491 Thence home, and to my business at the office, to finish it, but was in great pain about yesterday still, lest my wife should have sent her porter to enquire anything, though for my heart I cannot see it possible how anything could be discovered of it, but yet such is fear as to render me full of doubt and disgust. At night to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon at home to dinner, and there find Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and he dined with us; and there hearing that The Alchymist was acted, we did go, and took him with us to the King’s house; and it is still a good play, having not been acted for two or three years before; but I do miss Clun,4492 for the Doctor.4493 But more my eyes will not let me enjoy the pleasure I used to have in a play. Thence with my wife in hackney to Sir W. Coventry’s, who being gone to the Park we drove after him, and there met him coming out, and followed him home, and there sent my wife to Unthanke’s while I spent an hour with him reading over first my draught of the Administration of the Navy, which he do like very well; and so fell to talk of other things, and among the rest of the story of his late disgrace, and how basely and in what a mean manner the Duke of Buckingham hath proceeded against him—not like a man of honour. He tells me that the King will not give other answer about his coming to kiss his hands, than “Not yet.” But he says that this that he desires, of kissing the King’s hand, is only to show to the world that he is not discontented, and not in any desire to come again into play, though I do perceive that he speaks this with less earnestness than heretofore: and this, it may be, is, from what he told me lately, that the King is offended at what is talked, that he hath declared himself desirous not to have to do with any employment more. But he do tell me that the leisure he hath yet had do not at all begin to be burdensome to him, he knowing how to spend his time with content to himself; and that he hopes shortly to contract his expense, so as that he shall not be under any straits in that respect neither; and so seems to be in very good condition of content. Thence I away over the Park, it being now night, to Whitehall, and there, in the Duchess’s chamber, do find the Duke of York; and, upon my offer to speak with him, he did come to me, and withdrew to his closet, and there did hear and approve my paper of the Administration of the Navy, only did bid me alter these words, “upon the rupture between the late King and the Parliament,” to these, “the beginning of the late Rebellion;” giving it me as but reason to show that it was with the Rebellion that the Navy was put by out of its old good course, into that of a Commission. Having done this, we fell to other talk; he with great confidence telling me how matters go among our adversaries, in reference to the Navy, and that he thinks they do begin to flag; but then, beginning to talk in general of the excellency of old constitutions, he did bring out of his cabinet, and made me read it, an extract out of a book of my late Lord of Northumberland’s, so prophetic of the business of Chatham, as is almost miraculous.4494 I did desire, and he did give it me to copy out, which pleased me mightily, and so, it being late, I away and to my wife, and by hackney; home, and there, my eyes being weary with reading so much: but yet not so much as I was afeard they would, we home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and all the morning till 2 o’clock at my Office, with Gibson and Tom, about drawing up fair my discourse of the Administration of the Navy, and then, Mr. Spong being come to dine with me, I in to dinner, and then out to my Office again, to examine the fair draught; and so borrowing Sir J. Minnes’s coach, he going with Colonel Middleton, I to Whitehall, where we all met and did sign it and then to my Lord Arlington’s, where the King, and the Duke of York, and Prince Rupert, as also Ormond and the two Secretaries, with my Lord Ashly and Sir T. Clifton was. And there, by and by, being called in, Mr. Williamson did read over our paper, which was in a letter to the Duke of York, bound up in a book with the Duke of York’s Book of Instructions. He read it well; and, after read, we were bid to withdraw, nothing being at all said to it. And by and by we were called in again, and nothing said to that business; but another begun, about the state of this year’s action, and our wants of money, as I had stated the same lately to our Treasurers; which I was bid, and did largely, and with great content, open. And having so done, we all withdrew, and left them to debate our supply of money; to which, being called in, and referred to attend on the Lords of the Treasury, we all departed. And I only stayed in the House till the Council rose; and then to the Duke of York, who in the Duchess’s chamber come to me, and told me that the book was there left with my Lord Arlington, for any of the Lords to view that had a mind, and to prepare and present to the King what they had to say in writing, to any part of it, which is all we can desire, and so that rested. The Duke of York then went to other talk; and by and by comes the Prince of Tuscany to visit him, and the Duchess; and I find that he do still remain incognito, and so intends to do all the time he stays here, for avoiding trouble to the King and himself, and expense also to both. Thence I to Whitehall Gate, thinking to have found Sir J. Minnes’s coach staying for me; but, not being there, and this being the first day of rain we have had many a day, the streets being as dusty as in summer, I forced to walk to my cousin Turner’s, and there find my wife newly gone home, which vexed me, and so I, having kissed and taken leave of Betty, who goes to Putney to school tomorrow, I walked through the rain to the Temple, and there, with much ado, got a coach, and so home, and there to supper, and Pelling comes to us, and after much talk, we parted, and to bed.
. Up, and with Tom (whom, with his wife, I, and my wife, had this morning taken occasion to tell that I did intend to give him £40 for himself, and £20 to his wife, towards their setting out in the world, and that my wife would give her £20 more, that she might have as much to begin with as he) by coach to Whitehall, and there having set him work in the Robe Chamber, to write something for me, I to Westminster Hall, and there walked from 10 o’clock to past 12, expecting to have met Deb., but whether she had been there before, and missing me went away, or is prevented in coming, and hath no mind to come to me (the last whereof, as being most pleasing, as showing most modesty, I should be most glad of), I know not, but she not then appearing, I being tired with walking went home, and my wife being all day at Jane’s, helping her, as she said, to cut out linen and other things belonging to her new condition, I after dinner out again, and, calling for my coach, which was at the coachmaker’s, and hath been for these two or three days, to be new painted, and the window-frames gilt against Maiday, went on with my hackney to Whitehall, and thence by water to Westminster Hall, and there did beckon to Doll Lane, now Mrs. Powell, as she would have herself called, and went to her sister Martin’s lodgings, the first time I have been there these eight or ten months, I think, and her sister being gone to Portsmouth to her husband, I did stay and talk and drink with Doll. … So away and to Whitehall, and there took my own coach, which was now come, and so away home, and there to do business, and my wife being come home we to talk and to sup, there having been nothing yet like discovery in my wife of what hath lately passed with me about Deb., and so with great content to bed.
. Up; and to the Office, and my wife abroad with Mary Batelier, with our own coach, but borrowed Sir J Minnes’s coachman, that so our own might stay at home, to attend at dinner; our family being mightily disordered by our little boy’s falling sick the last night; and we fear it will prove the smallpox. At noon comes my guest, Mr. Hugh May,4495 and with him Sir Henry Capell, my old Lord Capel’s son, and Mr. Parker; and I had a pretty dinner for them; and both before and after dinner had excellent discourse; and showed them my closet and my Office, and the method of it to their great content; and more extraordinary, manly discourse and opportunity of showing myself, and learning from others, I have not, in ordinary discourse, had in my life, they being all persons of worth, but especially Sir H. Capell, whose being a Parliament-man, and hearing my discourse in the Parliament-house, hath, as May tells me, given him a long desire to know and discourse with me. In the afternoon we walked to the Old Artillery-Ground4496 near the Spitalfields, where I never was before, but now, by Captain Deane’s invitation, did go to see his new gun tryed, this being the place where the Officers of the Ordnance do try all their great guns; and when we come, did find that the trial had been made; and they going away with extraordinary report of the proof of his gun, which, from the shortness and bigness, they do call Punchinello. But I desired Colonel Legge to stay and give us a sight of her performance, which he did, and there, in short, against a gun more than as long and as heavy again, and charged with as much powder again, she carried the same bullet as strong to the mark, and nearer and above the mark at a point blank than theirs, and is more easily managed, and recoils no more than that, which is a thing so extraordinary as to be admired for the happiness of his invention, and to the great regret of the old Gunners and Officers of the Ordnance that were there, only Colonel Legge did do her much right in his report of her. And so, having seen this great and first experiment, we all parted, I seeing my guests into a hackney coach, and myself, with Captain Deane, taking a hackney coach, did go out towards Bow, and went as far as Stratford, and all the way talking of this invention, and he offering me a third of the profit of the invention; which, for aught I know, or do at present think, may prove matter considerable to us: for either the King will give him a reward for it, if he keeps it to himself, or he will give us a patent to make our profit of it: and no doubt but it will be of profit to merchantmen and others, to have guns of the same force at half the charge. This was our talk: and then to talk of other things, of the Navy in general: and, among other things, he did tell me that he do hear how the Duke of Buckingham hath a spite at me, which I knew before, but value it not: and he tells me that Sir T. Allen is not my friend; but for all this I am not much troubled, for I know myself so useful that, as I believe, they will not part with me; so I thank God my condition is such that I can retire, and be able to live with comfort, though not with abundance. Thus we spent the evening with extraordinary good discourse, to my great content, and so home to the Office, and there did some business, and then home, where my wife do come home, and I vexed at her staying out so late, but she tells me that she hath been at home with M. Batelier a good while, so I made nothing of it, but to supper and to bed.
. Up; and with my own coach as far as the Temple, and thence sent it to my cousin Turner, who, to ease her own horses, that are going with her out of town, do borrow mine today. So I to Auditor Wood’s, and thereto meet, and met my Lord Bellassis upon some business of his accounts, and having done that did thence go to St. James’s, and attended the Duke of York a little, being the first time of my waiting on him at St. James’s this summer, whither he is now newly gone and thence walked to Whitehall; and so, by and by, to the Council-Chamber, and heard a remarkable cause pleaded between the Farmers of the Excise of Wiltshire, in complaint against the justices of Peace of Salisbury: and Sir H. Finch was for the former. But, Lord! to see how he did with his admirable eloquence order the matter, is not to be conceived almost: so pleasant a thing it is to hear him plead. Then at noon by coach home, and thither by and by comes cousin Turner, and The., and Joyce, in their riding-clod: they being come from their lodgings to her husband’s chamber, at the Temple, and there do lie, and purpose to go out of town on Friday next; and here I had a good dinner for them. After dinner by water to Whitehall, where the Duke of York did meet our Office, and went with us to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury; and there we did go over all the business of the state I had drawn up, of this year’s action and expense, which I did do to their satisfaction, and convincing them of the necessity of providing more money, if possible, for us. Thence the Duke of York being gone, I did there stay walking with Sir H. Cholmly in the Court, talking of news; where he told me, that now the great design of the Duke of Buckingham is to prevent the meeting, since he cannot bring about with the King the dissolving, of this Parliament, that the King may not need it; and therefore my Lord St. Albans is hourly expected with great offers of a million of money4497 to buy our breach with the Dutch: and this, they do think, may tempt the King to take the money, and thereby be out of a necessity of calling the Parliament again, which these people dare not suffer to meet again: but this he doubts, and so do I, that it will be to the ruin of the nation if we fall out with Holland. This we were discoursing when my boy comes to tell me that his mistress was at the Gate with the coach, whither I went, and there find my wife and the whole company. So she, and Mrs. Turner, and The., and Talbot, in mine: and Joyce, W. Batelier, and I, in a hackney, to Hyde Park, where I was ashamed to be seen; but mightily pleased, though troubled, with a drunken coachman that did not remember when we come to ’light, where it was that he took us up; but said at Hammersmith, and thither he was carrying of us when we come first out of the Park. So I carried them all to Hercules-Pillars, and there did treat them: and so, about ten at night, parted, and my wife, and I, and W. Batelier, home; and he gone, we to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and Captain Deane with us; and very good discourse, and particularly about my getting a book for him to draw up his whole theory of shipping, which, at my desire, he hath gone far in, and hath shown me what he hath done therein, to admiration. I did give him a Parallelogram, which he is mightily taken with; and so after dinner to the Office, where all the afternoon till night late, and then home. Vexed at my wife’s not being come home, she being gone again abroad with M. Batelier, and come not home till ten at night, which vexed me, so that I to bed, and lay in pain awake till past one, and then to sleep.
. Going to rise, without saying anything, my wife stopped me; and, after a little angry talk, did tell me how she spent all day yesterday with M. Batelier and her sweetheart, and seeing a play at the New Nursery, which is set up at the house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which was formerly the King’s house. So that I was mightily pleased again, and rose a with great content; and so by water to Whitehall, and there to the Council-Chamber, and heard two or three causes: among others, that of the complaint of Sir Philip Howard and Watson, the inventors, as they pretend, of the business of varnishing and lackerworke, against the Company of Painters, who take upon them to do the same thing; where I saw a great instance of the weakness of a young Counsel not used to such an audience, against the Solicitor-General and two more able Counsel used to it. Though he had the right of his side, and did prevail for what he pretended to against the rest, yet it was with much disadvantage and hazard. Here, also I heard Mr. Papillion4498 make his defence to the King, against some complaints of the Farmers of Excise; but it was so weak, and done only by his own seeking, that it was to his injury more than profit, and made his case the worse, being ill managed, and in a cause against the King. Thence at noon, the Council rising, I to Unthanke’s, and there by agreement met my wife, and with her to the Cocke, and did give her a dinner, but yet both of us but in an ill humour, whatever was the matter with her, but thence to the King’s playhouse, and saw The Generous Portugals,4499 a play that pleases me better and better every time we see it; and, I thank God! it did not trouble my eyes so much as I was afeard it would. Here, by accident, we met Mr. Sheres, and yet I could not but be troubled, because my wife do so delight to talk of him, and to see him. Nevertheless, we took him with us to our mercer’s, and to the Exchange, and he helped me to choose a summer-suit of coloured camlet, coat and breeches, and a flowered tabby vest very rich; and so home, where he took his leave, and down to Greenwich, where he hath some friends; and I to see Colonel Middleton, who hath been ill for a day or two, or three; and so home to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, Mr. Sheres dining with us by agreement; and my wife, which troubled me, mighty careful to have a handsome dinner for him; but yet I see no reason to be troubled at it, he being a very civil and worthy man, I think; but only it do seem to imply some little neglect of me. After dinner to the King’s house, and there saw The General4500 revived—a good play, that pleases me well, and thence, our coach coming for us, we parted and home, and I busy late at the office, and then home to supper and to bed. Well pleased tonight to have Lead, the vizard-maker, bring me home my vizard, with a tube fastened in it, which, I think, will do my business, at least in a great measure, for the easing of my eyes.
. Up, and to my Office awhile, and thither comes Lead with my vizard, with a tube fastened within both eyes; which, with the help which he prompts me to, of a glass in the tube, do content me mightily. So to church, where a stranger made a dull sermon, but I mightily pleased to looks upon Mr. Buckworth’s little pretty daughters, and so home to, dinner, where W. Howe come and dined with us; and then I to my Office, he being gone, to write down my journal for the last twelve days: and did it with the help of my vizard and tube fixed to it, and do find it mighty manageable, but how helpful to my eyes this trial will show me. So abroad with my wife, in the afternoon, to the Park, where very much company, and the weather very pleasant. I carried my wife to the Lodge, the first time this year, and there in our coach eat a cheesecake and drank a tankard of milk. I showed her this day also first the Prince of Tuscany, who was in the Park, and many very fine ladies, and so home, and after supper to bed.
. Up, having lain long, and then by coach with W. Hewer to the Excise Office, and so to Lilly’s, the Varnisher, who is lately dead, and his wife and brother keep up the trade, and there I left my French prints to be put on boards: and, while I was there, a fire burst out in a chimney of a house over against his house, but it was with a gun quickly put out. So to Whitehall, and did a little business there at the Treasury chamber, and so homeward, calling at the laceman’s for some lace for my new suit, and at my tailor’s, and so home, where to dinner, and Mr. Sheres dined with us, who come hither today to teach my wife the rules of perspective; but I think, upon trial, he thinks it too hard to teach her, being ignorant of the principles of lines. After dinner comes one Colonel Macnachan, one that I see often at Court, a Scotchman, but know him not; only he brings me a letter from my Lord Middleton, who, he says, is in great distress for £500 to relieve my Lord Morton4501 with, but upon what account I know not; and he would have me advance it without order upon his pay for Tangier, which I was astonished at, but had the grace to deny him with an excuse. And so he went away, leaving me a little troubled that I was thus driven, on a sudden, to do anything herein; but Creed, coming just now to see me, he approves of what I have done. And then to talk of general matters, and, by and by, Sheres being gone, my wife, and he, and I out, and I set him down at Temple Bar, and myself and wife went down the Temple upon seeming business, only to put him off, and just at the Temple gate I spied Deb. with another gentlewoman, and Deb. winked on me and smiled, but undiscovered, and I was glad to see her. So my wife and I to the ’Change, about things for her; and here, at Mrs. Burnett’s shop, I am told by Betty, who was all undressed, of a great fire happened in Durham-Yard last night, burning the house of one Lady Hungerford,4502 who was to come to town to it this night; and so the house is burned, new furnished, by carelessness of the girl sent to take off a candle from a bunch of candles, which she did by burning it off, and left the rest, as is supposed, on fire. The King and Court were here, it seems, and stopped the fire by blowing up of the next house. The King and Court went out of town to Newmarket this morning betimes, for a week. So home, and there to my chamber, and got my wife to read to me a little, and so to supper and to bed. Coming home this night I did call at the coachmaker’s, and do resolve upon having the standards of my coach gilt with this new sort of varnish, which will come but to 40s.; and, contrary to my expectation, the doing of the biggest coach all over comes not to above £6, which is [not] very much.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then to the Office again, where the afternoon busy till late, and then home, and got my wife to read to me in the Nepotisme,4503 which is very pleasant, and so to supper and to bed. This afternoon was brought to me a fresh Distringas upon the score of the Tangier accounts which vexes me, though I hope it will not turn to my wrong.
. Up, and was called upon by Sir H. Cholmly to discourse about some accounts of his, of Tangier: and then other talk; and I find by him that it is brought almost effect ([through] the late endeavours of the Duke of York and Duchess, the Queen-Mother, and my Lord St. Albans, together with some of the contrary faction, my Lord Arlington), that for a sum of money we shall enter into a league with the King of France, wherein, he says, my Lord Chancellor4504 is also concerned; and that he believes that, in the doing hereof, it is meant that he [Clarendon] shall come again, and that this sum of money will so help the King that he will not need the Parliament; and that, in that regard it will be forwarded by the Duke of Buckingham and his faction, who dread the Parliament. But hereby we must leave the Dutch, and that I doubt will undo us; and Sir H. Cholmly says he finds W. Coventry do think the like. Lady Castlemayne is instrumental in this matter, and, he say never more great with the King than she is now. But this a thing that will make the Parliament and kingdom mad, and will turn to our ruin: for with this money the King shall wanton away his time in pleasures, and think nothing of the main till it be too late. He gone, I to the office, where busy till noon, and then home to dinner, where W. Batelier dined with us, and pretty merry, and so I to the office again. This morning Mr. Sheres sent me, in two volumes, Mariana his History of Spaine,4505 in Spanish, an excellent book; and I am much obliged for it to him.
. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning, and at noon dined at home, and then to the Office again, there to despatch as much business as I could, that I might be at liberty tomorrow to look after my many things that I have to do, against Maiday. So at night home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to the coachmaker’s: and there I do find a great many ladies sitting in the body of a coach that must be ended by tomorrow: they were my Lady Marquess of Winchester,4506 Bellassis,4507 and other great ladies; eating of bread and butter, and drinking ale. I to my coach, which is silvered over, but no varnish yet laid on, so I put it in a way of doing; and myself about other business, and particularly to see Sir W. Coventry, with whom I talked a good while to my great content; and so to other places—among others, to my tailor’s: and then to the belt-maker’s, where my belt cost me 55s., of the colour of my new suit; and here, understanding that the mistress of the house, an oldish woman in a hat hath some water good for the eyes, she did dress me, making my eyes smart most horribly, and did give me a little glass of it, which I will use, and hope it will do me good. So to the cutler’s, and there did give Tom, who was with me all day a sword cost me 12s. and a belt of my own; and set my own silver-hilt sword a-gilding against tomorrow. This morning I did visit Mr. Oldenburgh,4508 and did see the instrument for perspective made by Dr. Wren,4509 of which I have one making by Browne; and the sight of this do please me mightily. At noon my wife come to me at my tailor’s, and I sent her home and myself and Tom dined at Hercules’ Pillars; and so about our business again, and particularly to Lilly’s, the varnisher about my prints, whereof some of them are pasted upon the boards, and to my full content. Thence to the frame-maker’s one Morris, in Long Acre, who showed me several forms of frames to choose by, which was pretty, in little bits of mouldings, to choose by. This done, I to my coach-maker’s, and there vexed to see nothing yet done to my coach, at three in the afternoon; but I set it in doing, and stood by it till eight at night, and saw the painter varnish which is pretty to see how every doing it over do make it more and more yellow; and it dries as fast in the sun as it can be laid on almost; and most coaches are, nowadays done so, and it is very pretty when laid on well, and not pale, as some are, even to show the silver. Here I did make the workmen drink, and saw my coach cleaned and oiled; and, staying among poor people there in the alley, did hear them call their fat child Punch, which pleased me mightily that word being become a word of common use for all that is thick and short. At night home, and there find my wife hath been making herself clean against tomorrow; and, late as it was, I did send my coachman and horses to fetch home the coach tonight, and so we to supper, myself most weary with walking and standing so much, to see all things fine against tomorrow, and so to bed. God give a blessing to it! Meeting with Mr. Sheres, he went with me up and down to several places, and, among others, to buy a periwig, but I bought none; and also to Dancre’s, where he was about my picture of Windsor, which is mighty pretty, and so will the prospect of Rome be.
May 1669
. Up betimes. Called up by my tailor, and there first put on a summer suit this year; but it was not my fine one of flowered tabby vest, and coloured camlet tunic, because it was too fine with the gold lace at the hands, that I was afeard to be seen in it; but put on the stuff suit I made the last year, which is now repaired; and so did go to the Office in it, and sat all the morning, the day looking as if it would be fowle. At noon home to dinner, and there find my wife extraordinary fine, with her flowered tabby gown that she made two years ago, now laced exceeding pretty; and, indeed, was fine all over; and mighty earnest to go, though the day was very lowering; and she would have me put on my fine suit, which I did. And so anon we went alone through the town with our new liveries of serge, and the horses’ manes and tails tied with red ribbons, and the standards there gilt with varnish, and all clean, and green refines, that people did mightily look upon us; and, the truth is, I did not see any coach more pretty, though more gay, than ours, all the day. But we set out, out of humour—I because Betty, whom I expected, was not come to go with us; and my wife that I would sit on the same seat with her, which she likes not, being so fine: and she then expected to meet Sheres, which we did in the Pell Mell, and, against my will, I was forced to take him into the coach, but was sullen all day almost, and little complaisant: the day also being unpleasing, though the Park full of coaches, but dusty and windy, and cold, and now and then a little dribbling rain; and, what made it worst, there were so many hackney-coaches as spoiled the sight of the gentlemen’s; and so we had little pleasure. But here was W. Batelier and his sister in a borrowed coach by themselves, and I took them and we to the lodge; and at the door did give them a syllabub, and other things, cost me 12s., and pretty merry. And so back to the coaches, and there till the evening, and then home, leaving Mr. Sheres4510 at St. James’s Gate, where he took leave of us for altogether, he being this night to set out for Portsmouth post, in his way to Tangier, which troubled my wife mightily, who is mighty, though not, I think, too fond of him. But she was out of humour all the evening, and I vexed at her for it, and she did not rest almost all the night, so as in the night I was forced to take her and hug her to put her to rest. So home, and after a little supper, to bed.
. Up, and by water to Whitehall, and there visit my Lord Sandwich, who, after about two months’ absence at Hinchingbroke, come to town last night. I saw him, and very kind; and I am glad he is so, I having not wrote to him all the time, my eyes indeed not letting me. Here with Sir Charles Herbert [Harbord], and my Lord Hinchingbroke, and Sidney, we looked upon the picture of Tangier, designed by Charles Herbert [Harbord],4511 and drawn by Dancre, which my Lord Sandwich admires, as being the truest picture that ever he’s saw in his life: and it is indeed very pretty, and I will be at the cost of having one of them. Thence with them to Whitehall, and there walked out the sermon, with one or other; and then saw the Duke of York after sermon, and he talked to me a little; and so away back by water home, and after dinner got my wife to read, and then by coach, she and I, to the Park, and there spent the evening with much pleasure, it proving clear after a little shower, and we mighty fine as yesterday, and people mightily pleased with our coach, as I perceived; but I had not on my fine suit, being really afeard to wear it, it being so fine with the gold lace, though not gay. So home and to supper, and my wife to read, and Tom, my Nepotisme,4512 and then to bed.
. Up, and by coach to my Lord Brouncker’s, where Sir G. Carteret did meet Sir J. Minnes and me, to discourse upon Mr. Deering’s business, who was directed, in the time of the war, to provide provisions at Hamburg, by Sir G. Carteret’s direction; and now G. Carteret is afeard to own it, it being done without written order. But by our meeting we do all begin to recollect enough to preserve Mr. Deering, I think, which, poor silly man! I shall be glad of, it being too much he should suffer for endeavouring to serve us. Thence to St. James’s, where the Duke of York was playing in the Pell Mell; and so he called me to him most part of the time that he played, which was an hour, and talked alone to me; and, among other things, tells me how the King will not yet be got to name anybody in the room of Penn, but puts it off for three or four days; from whence he do collect that they are brewing something for the Navy, but what he knows not; but I perceive is vexed that things should go so, and he hath reason; for he told me that it is likely they will do in this as in other things—resolve first, and consider it and the fitness of it afterward. Thence to Whitehall, and met with Creed, and I took him to the Harp and Balls, and there drank a cup of ale, he and I alone, and discoursed of matters; and I perceive by him that he makes no doubt but that all will turn to the old religion, for these people cannot hold things in their hands, nor prevent its coming to that; and by his discourse fits himself for it, and would have my Lord Sandwich do so, too, and me. After a little talk with him, and particularly about the ruinous condition of Tangier, which I have a great mind to lay before the Duke of York, before it be too late, but dare not, because of his great kindness to Lord Middleton, we parted, and I homeward; but called at Povy’s, and there he stopped me to dinner, there being Mr. Williamson, the Lieutenant of the Tower,4513 Mr. Childe, and several others. And after dinner, Povy and I together to talk of Tangier; and he would have me move the Duke of York in it, for it concerns him particularly, more than any, as being the head of us; and I do think to do it. Thence home, and at the office busy all the afternoon, and so to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the office, and then my wife being gone to see her mother at Deptford, I before the office sat went to the Excise Office, and thence being alone stepped into Duck Lane, and thence tried to have sent a porter to Deb.’s, but durst not trust him, and therefore having bought a book to satisfy the bookseller for my stay there, a 12d. book, Andronicus of Tom Fuller,4514 I took coach, and at the end of Jewen Street next Red Cross Street I sent the coachman to her lodging, and understand she is gone for Greenwich to one Marys’s, a tanner’s, at which I was glad, hoping to have opportunity to find her out; and so, in great fear of being seen, I to the office, and there all the morning, dined at home, and presently after dinner comes home my wife, who I believe is jealous of my spending the day, and I had very good fortune in being at home, for if Deb. had been to have been found it is forty to one but I had been abroad, God forgive me. So the afternoon at the office, and at night walked with my wife in the garden, and my Lord Brouncker with us, who is newly come to W. Penn’s lodgings; and by and by comes Mr. Hooke; and my Lord, and he, and I into my Lord’s lodgings, and there discoursed of many fine things in philosophy, to my great content, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and thought to have gone with Lord Brouncker to Mr. Hooke this morning betimes; but my Lord is taken ill of the gout, and says his new lodgings have infected him, he never having had any symptoms of it till now. So walked to Gresham College, to tell Hooke that my Lord could not come; and so left word, he being abroad, and I to St. James’s, and thence, with the Duke of York, to Whitehall, where the Board waited on him all the morning: and so at noon with Sir Thomas Allen, and Sir Edward Scott,4515 and Lord Carlingford,4516 to the Spanish Embassador’s,4517 where I dined the first time. The Olio not so good as Sheres’s. There was at the table himself and a Spanish Countess, a good, comely, and witty lady—three Fathers and us. Discourse good and pleasant. And here was an Oxford scholar in a Doctor of Law’s gown, sent from the College where the Embassador lay, when the Court was there, to salute him before his return to Spain: This man, though a gentle sort of scholar, yet sat like a fool for want of French or Spanish, but [knew] only Latin, which he spoke like an Englishman to one of the Fathers. And by and by he and I to talk, and the company very merry at my defending Cambridge against Oxford: and I made much use of my French and Spanish here, to my great content. But the dinner not extraordinary at all, either for quantity or quality. Thence home, where my wife ill of those upon the maid’s bed, and troubled at my being abroad. So I to the office, and there till night, and then to her, and she read to me the Epistle of Cassandra,4518 which is very good indeed; and the better to her, because recommended by Sheres. So to supper, and to bed.
. Up, and by coach to Sir W. Coventry’s, but he gone out. I by water back to the Office, and there all the morning; then to dinner, and then to the Office again, and anon with my wife by coach to take the air, it being a noble day, as far as the Greene Man,4519 mightily pleased with our journey, and our condition of doing it in our own coach, and so home, and to walk in the garden, and so to supper and to bed, my eyes being bad with writing my journal, part of it, tonight.
. Up, and by coach to W. Coventry’s; and there to talk with him a great deal with great content; and so to the Duke of York, having a great mind to speak to him about Tangier; but, when I come to it, his interest for my Lord Middleton is such that I dare not. So to the Treasury chamber, and then walked home round by the Excise Office, having by private vows last night in prayer to God Almighty cleared my mind for the present of the thoughts of going to Deb. at Greenwich, which I did long after. I passed by Guildhall, which is almost finished, and saw a poor labourer carried by, I think, dead with a fall, as many there are, I hear. So home to dinner, and then to the office a little, and so to see my Lord Brouncker, who is a little ill of the gout; and there Madam Williams told me that she heard that my wife was going into France this year, which I did not deny, if I can get time, and I pray God I may. But I wondering how she come to know it, she tells me a woman that my wife spoke to for a maid, did tell her so, and that a lady that desires to go thither would be glad to go in her company. Thence with my wife abroad, with our coach, most pleasant weather; and to Hackney, and into the marshes, where I never was before, and thence round about to Old Ford and Bow; and coming through the latter home, there being some young gentlewomen at a door, and I seeming not to know who they were, my wife’s jealousy told me presently that I knew well enough it was that damned place where Deb. dwelt, which made me swear very angrily that it was false, as it was, and I carried [her] back again to see the place, and it proved not so, so I continued out of humour a good while at it, she being willing to be friends, so I was by and by, saying no more of it. So home, and there met with a letter from Captain Silas Taylor, and, with it, his written copy of a play that he hath wrote, and intends to have acted. It is called The Serenade, or Disappointment, which I will read, not believing he can make any good of that kind. He did once offer to show Harris it, but Harris told him that he would judge by one Act whether it were good or no, which is indeed a foolish saying, and we see them out themselves in the choice of a play after they have read the whole, it being sometimes found not fit to act above three times; nay, and some that have been refused at one house is found a good one at the other. This made Taylor say he would not show it him, but is angry, and hath carried it to the other house, and he thinks it will be acted there, though he tells me they are not yet agreed upon it. But I will find time to get it read to me, and I did get my wife to begin a little tonight in the garden, but not so much as I could make any judgment of it. So home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to the Office, and there comes Lead to me, and at last my vizards are done, and glasses got to put in and out, as I will; and I think I have brought it to the utmost, both for easiness of using and benefit, that I can; and so I paid him 15s. for what he hath done now last, in the finishing them, and they, I hope, will do me a great deal of ease. At the Office all the morning, and this day, the first time, did alter my side of the table, after above eight years sitting on that next the fire. But now I am not able to bear the light of the windows in my eyes, I do begin there, and I did sit with much more content than I had done on the other side for a great while, and in winter the fire will not trouble my back. At noon home to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon within, with Mr. Hater, Gibson, and W. Hewer, reading over and drawing up new things in the Instructions of Commanders, which will be good, and I hope to get them confirmed by the Duke of York, though I perceive nothing will effectually perfect them but to look over the whole body of the Instructions, of all the Officers of a ship, and make them all perfect together. This being done, comes my bookseller, and brings me home bound my collection of papers, about my Address to the Duke of York in August, which makes me glad, it being that which shall do me more right many years hence than, perhaps, all I ever did in my life: and therefore I do, both for my own and the King’s sake, value it much. By and by also comes Browne,4520 the mathematical instrument maker, and brings me home my instrument for perspective, made according to the description of Dr. Wren’s, in the late Transactions; and he hath made it, I think, very well, and that, that I believe will do the thing, and therein gives me great content; but have I fear all the content that must be received by my eyes is almost lost. So to the office, and there late at business, and then home to supper and to bed.
. Up; and, after dressing in my best suit with gold trimming, I to the Office, and there with Gibson and Tom finishing against tomorrow my notes upon Commanders’ Instructions; and, when church-time, to church with my wife, leaving them at work. Dr. Mills preached a dull sermon, and so we home to dinner; and thence by coach to St. Andrew’s, Holborne, thinking to have heard Dr. Stillingfleete preach, but we could not get a place, and so to St. Margaret’s, Westminster, and there heard a sermon, and did get a place, the first we have heard there these many years, and here at a distance I saw Betty Michell, but she is become much a plainer woman than she was a girl. Thence towards the Park, but too soon to go in, so went on to Knightsbridge, and there eat and drank at “The World’s End,”4521 where we had good things, and then back to the Park, and there till night, being fine weather, and much company, and so home, and after supper to bed. This day I first left off both my waistcoats by day, and my waistcoat by night, it being very hot weather, so hot as to make me break out, here and there, in my hands, which vexes me to see, but is good for me.
. Troubled, about three in the morning, with my wife’s calling her maid up, and rising herself, to go with her coach abroad, to gather May-dew,4522 which she did, and I troubled for it, for fear of any hurt, going abroad so betimes, happening to her; but I to sleep again, and she come home about six, and to bed again all well, and I up and with Mr. Gibson by coach to St. James’s, and thence to Whitehall, where the Duke of York met the Office, and there discoursed of several things, particularly the Instructions of Commanders of ships. But here happened by chance a discourse of the Council of Trade, against which the Duke of York is mightily displeased, and particularly Mr. Child, against whom he speaking hardly, Captain Cox did second the Duke of York, by saying that he was talked of for an unfair dealer with masters of ships, about freight: to which Sir T. Littleton very hotly and foolishly replied presently, that he never heard any honest man speak ill of Child; to which the Duke of York did make a smart reply, and was angry; so as I was sorry to hear it come so far, and that I, by seeming to assent to Cox, might be observed too much by Littleton, though I said nothing aloud, for this must breed great heartburnings. After this meeting done, the Duke of York took the Treasurers into his closet to chide them, as Mr. Wren tells me; for that my Lord Keeper did last night at the Council say, when nobody was ready to say anything against the constitution of the Navy, that he did believe the Treasurers of the Navy had something to say, which was very foul on their part, to be parties against us. They being gone, Mr. Wren [and I] took boat, thinking to dine with my Lord of Canterbury;4523 but, when we come to Lambeth, the gate was shut, which is strictly done at twelve o’clock, and nobody comes in afterwards: so we lost our labour, and therefore back to Whitehall, and thence walked my boy Jacke with me, to my Lord Crew, whom I have not seen since he was sick, which is eight months ago, I think, and there dined with him: he is mightily broke. A stranger a country gentleman, was with him: and he pleased with my discourse accidentally about the decay of gentlemen’s families in the country, telling us that the old rule was, that a family might remain fifty miles from London one hundred years, one hundred miles from London two hundred years, and so farther, or nearer London more or less years. He also told us that he hath heard his father say, that in his time it was so rare for a country gentleman to come to London, that, when he did come, he used to make his will before he set out. Thence to St. James’s, and there met the Duke of York, who told me, with great content, that he did now think he should master our adversaries, for that the King did tell him that he was satisfied in the constitution of the Navy, but that it was well to give these people leave to object against it, which they having not done, he did give order to give warrant to the Duke of York to direct Sir Jeremy Smith4524 to be a Commissioner of the Navy in the room of Penn; which, though he be an impertinent fellow, yet I am glad of it, it showing that the other side is not so strong as it was: and so, in plain terms, the Duke of York did tell me, that they were every day losing ground; and particularly that he would take care to keep out Child: at all which I am glad, though yet I dare not think myself secure, as the King may yet be wrought upon by these people to bring changes in our Office, and remove us, ere it be long. Thence I to Whitehall, and there took boat to Westminster, and to Mrs. Martin’s, who is not come to town from her husband at Portsmouth. So drank only at Cragg’s with Doll, and so to the Swan, and there baiser a new maid that is there, and so to Whitehall again, to a Committee of Tangier, where I see all things going to rack in the business of the Corporation, and consequently in the place, by Middleton’s going. Thence walked a little with Creed, who tells me he hears how fine my horses and coach are, and advises me to avoid being noted for it, which I was vexed to hear taken notice of, it being what I feared and Povy told me of my gold-lace sleeves in the Park yesterday, which vexed me also, so as to resolve never to appear in Court with them, but presently to have them taken off, as it is fit I should, and so to my wife at Unthanke’s, and coach, and so called at my tailor’s to that purpose, and so home, and after a little walk in the garden, home to supper and to bed.
. My wife again up by four o’clock, to go to gather May-dew; and so back home by seven, to bed, and by and by I up and to the office, where all the morning, and dined at noon at home with my people, and so all the afternoon. In the evening my wife and I all alone, with the boy, by water, up as high as Putney almost, with the tide, and back again, neither staying going nor coming; but talking, and singing, and reading a foolish copy of verses upon my Lord Mayor’s entertaining of all the bachelors, designed in praise to my Lord Mayor, and so home and to the office a little, and then home to bed, my eyes being bad. Some trouble at Court for fear of the Queen’s miscarrying; she being, as they all conclude, far gone with child.
. Up, and to Westminster Hall, where the term is, and this the first day of my being there, and here by chance met Roger Pepys, come to town the last night: I was glad to see him. After some talk with him and others, and among others Sir Charles Harbord and Sidney Montagu, the latter of whom is to set out tomorrow towards Flanders and Italy, I invited them to dine with me tomorrow, and so to Mrs. Martin’s lodging, who come to town last night, and there je did hazer her, she having been a month, I think, at Portsmouth with her husband, newly come home from the Streights. But, Lord! how silly the woman talks of her great entertainment there, and how all the gentry come to visit her, and that she believes her husband is worth £6 or £700, which nevertheless I am glad of, but I doubt they will spend it a fast. Thence home, and after dinner my wife and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there, in the side balcony, over against the music, did hear, but not see, a new play, the first day acted, The Roman Virgin,4525 an old play, and but ordinary, I thought; but the trouble of my eyes with the light of the candles did almost kill me. Thence to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there had a promise from Sidney to come and dine with me tomorrow; and so my wife and I home in our coach, and there find my brother John, as I looked for, come to town from Ellington,4526 where, among other things, he tell me the first news that my [sister Jackson] is with child, and far gone, which I know not whether it did more trouble or please me, having no great care for my friends to have children; though I love other people’s. So, glad to see him, we to supper, and so to bed.
. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, it being a rainy foul day. But at noon comes my Lord Hinchingbroke, and Sidney, and Sir Charles Harbord, and Roger Pepys, and dined with me; and had a good dinner, and very merry with us all the afternoon, it being a farewell to Sidney; and so in the evening they away, and I to my business at the Office and so to supper, and talk with my brother, and so to bed.
. Up, and to St. James’s to the Duke of York, and thence to Whitehall, where we met about office business, and then at noon with Mr. Wren to Lambeth, to dinner with the Archbishop of Canterbury; the first time I was ever there and I have long longed for it; where a noble house, and well furnished with good pictures and furniture, and noble attendance in good order, and great deal of company, though an ordinary day; and exceeding great cheer, nowhere better, or so much, that ever I think I saw, for an ordinary table: and the Bishop mighty kind to me, particularly desiring my company another time, when less company there. Most of the company gone, and I going, I heard by a gentleman of a sermon that was to be there; and so I stayed to hear it, thinking it serious, till by and by the gentleman told me it was a mockery, by one Cornet Bolton, a very gentleman-like man, that behind a chair did pray and preach like a Presbyter Scot that ever I heard in my life, with all the possible imitation in grimaces and voice. And his text about the hanging up their harps upon the willows:4527 and a serious good sermon too, exclaiming against Bishops, and crying up of my good Lord Eglinton,4528 till it made us all burst; but I did wonder to have the Bishop at this time to make himself sport with things of this kind, but I perceive it was shown him as a rarity; and he took care to have the room-door shut, but there were about twenty gentlemen there, and myself, infinitely pleased with the novelty. So over to Whitehall, to a little Committee of Tangier; and thence walking in the Gallery, I met Sir Thomas Osborne, who, to my great content, did of his own accord fall into discourse with me, with so much professions of value and respect, placing the whole virtue of the Office of the Navy upon me, and that for the Comptroller’s place, no man in England was fit for it but me, when Sir J. Minnes, as he says it is necessary, is removed: but then he knows not what to do for a man in my place; and in discourse, though I have no mind to the other, I did bring in Tom Hater to be the fittest man in the world for it, which he took good notice of. But in the whole I was mightily pleased, reckoning myself now fifty percent securer in my place than I did before think myself to be. Thence to Unthanke’s, and there find my wife, but not dressed, which vexed me, because going to the Park, it being a most pleasant day after yesterday’s rain, which lays all the dust, and most people going out thither, which vexed me. So home, sullen; but then my wife and I by water, with my brother, as high as Fulham, talking and singing, and playing the rogue with the Western bargemen,4529 about the women of Woolwich,4530 which mads them, and so back home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and at the Office all the morning. Dined at home and Creed with me home, and I did discourse about evening some reckonings with him in the afternoon; but I could not, for my eyes, do it, which troubled me, and vexed him that would not; but yet we were friends, I advancing him more without it, and so to walk all the afternoon together in the garden; and I perceive still he do expect a change in of matters, especially as to religion, and fits himself for it by professing himself for it in his discourse.4531 He gone, I to my business at my Office, and so at night home to supper, and to bed.
. My wife and I at church, our pew filled with Mrs. Backewell, and six more that she brought with her, which vexed me at her confidence. Dined at home and W. Batelier with us, and I all the afternoon drawing up a foul draught of my petition to the Duke of York, about my eyes, for leave to spend three or four months out of the Office, drawing it so as to give occasion to a voyage abroad which I did, to my pretty good liking; and then with my wife to Hyde Park, where a good deal of company, and good weather, and so home to supper and to bed.
. Up, and to several places doing business, and then home to dinner, and then my wife and I and brother John by coach to the King’s playhouse, and saw The Spanish Curate4532 revived, which is a pretty good play, but my eyes troubled with seeing it, mightily. Thence carried them and Mr. Gibson, who met me at my Lord Brouncker’s with a fair copy of my petition, which I thought to show the Duke of York this night, but could not, and therefore carried them to the Park, where they had never been, and so home to supper and to bed. Great the news now of the French taking St. Domingo,4533 in Spaniola, from the Spaniards, which troubles us, that they should have it, and have the honour of taking it, when we could not.
. Up, and to St. James’s and other places, and then to the office, where all the morning. At noon home and dined in my wife’s chamber, she being much troubled with the tooth-ache, and I stayed till a surgeon of hers come, one Leeson, who hath formerly drawn her mouth, and he advised her to draw it: so I to the Office, and by and by word is come that she hath drawn it, which pleased me, it being well done. So I home, to comfort her, and so back to the office till night, busy, and so home to supper and to bed.
. With my coach to St. James’s; and there finding the Duke of York gone to muster his men, in Hyde Park, I alone with my boy thither, and there saw more, walking out of my coach as other gentlemen did, of a soldier’s trade, than ever I did in my life: the men being mighty fine, and their Commanders, particularly the Duke of Monmouth; but methought their trade but very easy as to the mustering of their men, and the men but indifferently ready to perform what was commanded, in the handling of their arms. Here the news was first talked of Harry Killigrew’s4534 being wounded in nine places last night, by footmen, in the highway, going from the Park in a hackney-coach towards Hammersmith, to his house at Turnham Greene: they being supposed to be my Lady Shrewsbury’s men, she being by, in her coach with six horses; upon an old grudge of his saying openly that he had lain with her. Thence by and by to Whitehall, and there I waited upon the King and Queen all dinnertime, in the Queen’s lodgings, she being in her white pinner4535 and apron, like a woman with child; and she seemed handsomer plain so, than dressed. And by and by, dinner done, I out, and to walk in the Gallery, for the Duke of York’s coming out; and there, meeting Mr. May, he took me down about four o’clock to Mr. Chevins’s lodgings, and all alone did get me a dish of cold chickens, and good wine; and I dined like a prince, being before very hungry and empty. By and by the Duke of York comes, and readily took me to his closet, and received my petition, and discoursed about my eyes, and pitied me, and with much kindness did give me his consent to be absent, and approved of my proposition to go into Holland to observe things there, of the Navy; but would first ask the King’s leave, which he anon did, and did tell me that the King would be a good master to me, these were his words, about my eyes, and do like of my going into Holland, but do advise that nobody should know of my going thither, but pretend that I did go into the country somewhere, which I liked well. Glad of this, I home, and thence took out my wife, and to Mr. Holliard’s about a swelling in her cheek, but he not at home, and so round by Islington and eat and drink, and so home, and after supper to bed. In discourse this afternoon, the Duke of York did tell me that he was the most amazed at one thing just now, that ever he was in his life, which was, that the Duke of Buckingham did just now come into the Queen’s bedchamber, where the King was, and much mixed company, and among others, Tom Killigrew, the father of Harry, who was last night wounded so as to be in danger of death, and his man is quite dead; and [Buckingham] there in discourse did say that he had spoke with someone that was by (which all the world must know that it must be his whore, my Lady Shrewsbury), who says that they did not mean to hurt, but beat him, and that he did run first at them with his sword; so that he do hereby clearly discover that he knows who did it, and is of conspiracy with them, being of known conspiracy with her, which the Duke of York did seem to be pleased with, and said it might, perhaps, cost him his life in the House of Lords; and I find was mightily pleased with it, saying it was the most impudent thing, as well as the most foolish, that ever he knew man do in all his life.
. Up and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon, the whole Office—Brouncker, J. Minnes, T. Middleton, Samuel Pepys, and Captain Cox to dine with the Parish, at the Three Tuns, this day being Ascension-day, where exceeding good discourse among the merchants, and thence back home, and after a little talk with my wife, to my office did a great deal of business, and so with my eyes might weary, and my head full of care how to get my accounts and business settled against my journey, home to supper, and bed. Yesterday, at my coming home, I found that my wife had, on a sudden, put away Matt upon some falling out, and I doubt my wife did call her ill names by my wife’s own discourse; but I did not meddle to say anything upon it, but let her go, being not sorry, because now we may get one that speaks French, to go abroad with us.
. I waited with the Office upon the Duke of York in the morning. Dined at home, where Lewis Phillips the friend of his, dined with me. In the afternoon at the Office. In the evening visited by Roger Pepys and Philip Packer and so home.
. Dined at home, the rest of the whole day at office.
. Called up by Roger Pepys and his son who to church with me, and then home to dinner. In the afternoon carried them to Westminster, and myself to James’s, where, not finding the Duke of York, back home, and with my wife spent the evening taking the air about Hackney, with great pleasure, and places we had never seen before.
. To Whitehall, and there all the morning, and thence home, and giving order for some business and setting my brother to making a catalogue of my books, I back again to W. Hewer to Whitehall, where I attended the Duke of York and was by him led to [the King], who expressed great sense of my misfortune in my eyes, and concernment for their recovery; and accordingly signified, not only his assent to desire therein, but commanded me to give them rest summer, according to my late petition to the Duke of York. W. Hewer and I dined alone at the Swan; and thence having thus waited on the King, spent till four o’clock in St. James’s Park, when I met my wife at Unthanke’s, and so home.
. Dined at home; and the rest of the day, morning and afternoon, at the Office.
. To Whitehall, where all the morning. Dined with Mr. Chevins, with Alderman Backewell, and Spragg. The Court full of the news from Captain Hubbert, of The Milford, touching his being affronted in the Streights, shot at, and having eight men killed him by a French man-of-war, calling him “English dog,” and commanding him to strike, which he refused, and, as knowing himself much too weak for him, made away from him. The Queen, as being supposed with child, fell ill, so as to call for Madam Nun, Mr. Chevins’s sister, and one of her women, from dinner from us; this being the last day of their doubtfulness touching her being with child; and they were therein well confirmed by her Majesty’s being well again before night. One Sir Edmund Bury Godfry,4536 a woodmonger and justice of Peace in Westminster, having two days since arrested Sir Alexander Frazier4537 for about £30 in firing, the bailiffs were apprehended, committed to the porter’s lodge, and there, by the King’s command, the last night severely whipped; from which the justice himself very hardly escaped, to such an unusual degree was the King moved therein. But he lies now in the lodge, justifying his act, as grounded upon the opinion of several of the judges, and, among others, my Lord Chief-Justice; which makes the King very angry with the Chief-Justice, as they say; and the justice do lie and justify his act, and says he will suffer in the cause for the people, and do refuse to receive almost any nutriment.4538 The effects of it may be bad to the Court. Expected a meeting of Tangier this afternoon, but failed. So home, met by my wife at Unthanke’s.
. At the office all the morning, dined at home, Mr. Hollier with me. Presented this day by Mr. Browne with a book of drawing by him, lately printed,4539 which cost me 20s. to him. In the afternoon to the Temple, to meet with Auditor Aldworth4540 about my interest account, but failed meeting him. To visit my cousin Creed, and found her ill at home, being with child, and looks poorly. Thence to her husband, at Gresham College, upon some occasions of Tangier; and so home, with Sir John Bankes with me, to Mark Lane.
. To St. James’s, where the King’s being with the Duke of York prevented a meeting of the Tangier Commission. But, Lord! what a deal of sorry discourse did I hear between the King and several Lords about him here! but very mean methought. So with Creed to the Excise Office, and back to Whitehall, where, in the Park, Sir G. Carteret did give me an account of his discourse lately, with the Commissioners of Accounts, who except against many things, but none that I find considerable; among others, that of the Officers of the Navy selling of the King’s goods, and particularly my providing him with calico flags, which having been by order, and but once, when necessity, and the King’s apparent profit, justified it, as conformable to my particular duty, it will prove to my advantage that it be enquired into. Nevertheless, having this morning received from them a demand of an account of all monies within their cognizance, received and issued by me, I was willing, upon this hint, to give myself rest, by knowing whether their meaning therein might reach only to my Treasurership for Tangier, or the monies employed on this occasion. I went, therefore, to them this afternoon, to understand what monies they meant, where they answered me, by saying, “The eleven months’ tax, customs, and prize money,” without mentioning, any more than I demanding, the service they respected therein; and so, without further discourse, we parted, upon very good terms of respect, and with few words, but my mind not fully satisfied about the monies they mean. At noon Mr. Gibson and I dined at the Swan, and thence doing this at Brook house, and thence calling at the Excise Office for an account of payment of my tallies for Tangier, I home, and thence with my wife and brother spent the evening on the water, carrying our supper with us, as high as Chelsea; so home, making sport with the Westerne bargees, and my wife and I singing, to my great content.
. The King’s birthday. To Whitehall, where all very gay; and particularly the Prince of Tuscany very fine, and is the first day of his appearing out of mourning, since he come. I heard the Bishop of Peterborough4541 preach but dully; but a good anthem of Pelham’s. Home to dinner, and then with my wife to Hyde Park, where all the evening; great store of company, and great preparations by the Prince of Tuscany to celebrate the night with fireworks, for the King’s birthday. And so home.
. By water to Whitehall, and thence to Sir W. Coventry, where all the morning by his bedside, he being indisposed. Our discourse was upon the notes I have lately prepared for Commanders’ Instructions; but concluded that nothing will render them effectual, without an amendment in the choice of them, that they be seamen, and not gentleman above the command of the Admiral, by the greatness of their relations at Court. Thence to Whitehall, and dined alone with Mr. Chevins his sister: whither by and by come in Mr. Progers and Sir Thomas Allen, and by and by fine Mrs. Wells, who is a great beauty; and there I had my full gaze upon her, to my great content, she being a woman of pretty conversation. Thence to the Duke of York, who, with the officers of the Navy, made a good entrance on my draught of my new Instructions to Commanders, as well expressing general [views] of a reformation among them, as liking of my humble offers towards it. Thence being called by my wife, Mr. Gibson and I, we to the Park, whence the rain suddenly home.
. Up very betimes, and so continued all the morning with W. Hewer, upon examining and stating my accounts, in order to the fitting myself to go abroad beyond sea, which the ill condition of my eyes, and my neglect for a year or two, hath kept me behindhand in, and so as to render it very difficult now, and troublesome to my mind to do it; but I this day made a satisfactory entrance therein. Dined at home, and in the afternoon by water to Whitehall, calling by the way at Michell’s, where I have not been many a day till just the other day, and now I met her mother there and knew her husband to be out of town. And here je did baiser elle, but had not opportunity para hazer some with her as I would have offered if je had had it. And thence had another meeting with the Duke of York, at Whitehall, on yesterday’s work, and made a good advance: and so, being called by my wife, we to the Park, Mary Batelier, and a Dutch gentleman, a friend of hers, being with us. Thence to “The World’s End,” a drinking-house by the Park; and there merry, and so home late.
And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer, having done now so long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand; and, therefore, whatever comes of it, I must forbear: and, therefore, resolve, from this time forward, to have it kept by my people in longhand, and must therefore be contented to set down no more than is fit for them and all the world to know; or, if there be anything, which cannot be much, now my amours to Deb. are past, and my eyes hindering me in almost all other pleasures, I must endeavour to keep a margin in my book open, to add, here and there, a note in shorthand with my own hand.
And so I betake myself to that course, which is almost as much as to see myself go into my grave: for which, and all the discomforts that will accompany my being blind, the good God prepare me!
Afterword
We here take leave of a writer who has done so much to interest and enlighten successive generations of English readers, and who is now for the first time presented to the world as he really drew his own portrait day by day.
No one who has followed the daily notes of Samuel Pepys from January, 1660, to May, 1669, but must feel sincere regret at their abrupt conclusion, more particularly as the writer lays down his pen while in an unhappy temper.
It is evident from the tone of his later utterances that Pepys thought that he was going blind, a belief which was happily falsified. The holiday tour in which Charles II and James, Duke of York, took so much interest appears to have had its desired effect in restoring the Diarist to health.
The rest of his eventful life must be sought in the history of the English Navy which he helped to form, and in his numerous letters, which on some future occasion the present editor hopes to annotate. The details to be obtained from these sources form, however, but a sorry substitute for the words written in the solitude of his office by Pepys for his own eye alone, and we cannot but feel how great is the world’s loss in that he never resumed the writing of his journal. All must agree with Coleridge when he wrote on the margin of a copy of the Diary: “Truly may it be said that this was a greater and more grievous loss to the mind’s eye of posterity than to the bodily organs of Pepys himself. It makes me restless and discontented to think what a Diary equal in minuteness and truth of portraiture to the preceding from 1669 to 1688 or 1690 would have been for the true causes, process and character of the Revolution.”4542
Most works of this nature are apt to tire when they are extended over a certain length of time, but Pepys’s pages are always fresh, and most readers wish for more. For himself the editor can say that each time he has read over the various proofs he has read with renewed interest, so that it is with no ordinary feelings of regret that he comes to the end of his task, and he believes that every reader will feel the same regret that he has no more to read.
In reviewing the Diary it is impossible not to notice the growth of historical interest as it proceeds. In the earlier period we find Pepys surrounded by men not otherwise known, but as the years pass, and his position becomes more assured, we find him in daily communication with the chief men of his day, and evidently everyone who came in contact with him appreciated his remarkable ability. The survival of the Diary must ever remain a marvel. It could never have been intended for the reading of others, but doubtless the more elaborate portraits of persons in the later pages were intended for use when Pepys came to write his projected history of the Navy.
The only man who is uniformly spoken well of in the Diary is Sir William Coventry, and many of the characters introduced come in for severe castigation. It is therefore the more necessary to remember that many of the judgments on men were set down hastily, and would probably have been modified had occasion offered. At all events, we know that, however much he may have censured them, Pepys always helped on those who were dependent upon him.
Endnotes
Shelton’s work was frequently reprinted, and the edition of 1691 is in the Pepysian Library. The late Mr. John E. Bailey read a very interesting paper on The Cipher of Pepys’s Diary, before the Manchester Literary Club, on December 14th, 1875, an abstract of which has been printed. ↩
Mr. W. C. Pepys has paid great attention to the history of his family, and in 1887 he published an interesting work entitled Genealogy of the Pepys Family, 1273–1887, London, George Bell and Sons, which contains the fullest pedigrees of the family yet issued. ↩
“We went through Horslydown, where I never was since a little boy, that I went to enquire after my father, whom we did give over for lost coming from Holland.”
Diary, Jan. 24th, 1665–66
John Pepys appears, from the State Papers, to have visited Holland as late as 1656.
“That passes be graunted to goe beyond ye seas to ye persons following, vizt, To John Pepys and his man, with necessaryes for Holland, being on the desire of Mr Samll Pepys.
“Ordered by the Council, Thursday, 7th August, 1656.”
“Memorandum. That I, John Pepys of Ellington, in the county of Huntingdon, Gentn, doe declare my mind in the disposall of my worldly goods as followeth:
“First, I desire that my lands and goods left mee by my brother, Robert Pepys, deceased, bee delivered up to my eldest son, Samuell Pepys, of London, Esqr., according as is expressed in the last Will of my brother Robert aforesaid.
“Secondly, As for what goods I have brought from London, or procured since, and what moneys I shall leave behind me or due to me, I desire may be disposed of as followeth:
“Imprimis, I give to the stock of the poore of the parish of Brampton, in which church I desire to be enterred, five pounds.
“Item. I give to the Poore of Ellington forty shillings.
“Item. I desire that my two grandsons, Samuell and John Jackson, have ten pounds a piece.
“Item. I desire that my daughter, Paulina Jackson, may have my largest silver tankerd.
“Item. I desire that my son John Pepys may have my gold seale-ring.
“Lastly. I desire that the remainder of what I shall leave be equally distributed between my sons Samuel and John Pepys and my daughter Paulina Jackson.
“All which I leave to the care of my eldest son Samuel Pepys, to see performed, if he shall think fit.
Pepys tells us (Diary, Dec. 31st, 1664) that his father and mother were married at Newington in Surrey, on October 15th, 1626, but although the register of marriages of St. Mary, Newington, has been searched, the certificate of the marriage has not been found, and the maiden name of Mrs. John Pepys is still unknown. Mr. Osmund Airy suggests, in the Encyclopædia Britannica, the possibility that her maiden name may have been Perkins, and refers to an uncle and aunt Perkins who lived in poverty in the Fens near Wisbeach. I believe, however, that these Perkins were connections on the father’s rather than on the mother’s side. Jane Pepys, youngest sister of Samuel’s father, married Perkin. The suggestion, nevertheless, is useful, as it draws attention to the possibility of some of the cousins and aunts to whom we can find no clue, having been relations on the mother’s side. ↩
Lord Braybrooke says Trinity College, but his statement does not agree with the information given in the extracts from the Magdalene College register books quoted in the note on p. xvii, where we find the words, “in Aula Trin.” I have made inquiries in order to settle this point, but the result is only negative. The Master of Trinity Hall has been so good as to inform me that the registers of his college do not go back so far as this date, and through the kindness of Mr. J. W. L. Glaisher, F.R.S., Fellow of Trinity College, I learn that Pepys’s name does not occur in the registers of that college, and that there is no reason to suspect any omissions in the registers. As there is thus much evidence against his admission at Trinity College, it seems but fair to accept the evidence of the books of Magdalene College until they are proved to be incorrect. ↩
“Went to reside in Magl. Coll. Camb., and did put on my gown first, March 5, 1650–51.”
Mr. Mynors Bright has printed the following extracts from the entry and register books of Magdalene College, which refer to these movements:
“. Samuell Peapys filius Johannis Peapys civis Londinensis annos natus—è scholâ Paulina admissus est Sizator, Tutore Doc Morland.
“Mem, eū prius admissū fuisse in Aulâ Trin: 21 die Junii ejusdem añi, ut patet ex testif. Mri Twells ibidem Socio, dat. Mar. 4 1650/1, quo die etiū in ordinē transijt Pensionariorum apud nos.”
“. Ego Samuel Pepys electus fui et admissus in discipulum hujus Collegij pro Magistro Spenluff.”
“. Ego Samuel Pepys electus fui et admissus in discipulum hujus Collegij pro Magistro Johanne Smyth.”
These entries are also printed in the Appendix to the Fifth Report of the Historical MSS. Commission, p. 484. ↩
October 21st, 1653.
“Memorandum: that Peapys and Hind were solemnly admonished by myself and Mr. Hill, for having been scandalously over-served with drink ye night before. This was done in the presence of all the Fellows then resident, in Mr. Hill’s chamber.—John Wood, Registrar.”
There is no information at the Registry of the University which throws any light upon the question whether Pepys was first entered at Trinity College or Trinity Hall, but Mr. Charles E. Grant, M.A., has kindly informed me that “Sam: Peapys” matriculated as a pensioner at Magdalene on July 4th, 1651, and was a B.A. of 1653. ↩
These particulars are obtained from an interesting letter from Balthasar St. Michel to Pepys, dated “Deale, Feb. 8, 1673–4,” and printed in Life, Journals, and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, 1841, vol. i, pp. 146–53. ↩
The late Mr. T. C. Noble kindly communicated to me a copy of the original marriage certificate, which is as follows: “Samuell Peps of this parish Gent. & Elizabeth De Snt. Michell of Martins in the fields, Spinster. Published October 19th, 22nd, 29th 1655, and were married by Richard Sherwin Esqr one of the justices of the Peace of the Cittie and Lyberties of Westmr December 1st. (Signed) Ri. Sherwin.” ↩
“June 10th, 1669. I went this evening to London, to carry Mr. Pepys to my brother Richard, now exceedingly afflicted with the stone, who had been successfully cut, and carried the stone, as big as a tennis ball, to show him and encourage his resolution to go thro’ the operation.”
Diary, Jan. 30th, 1659–60: “I taking my £12 10s. 0d. due to me for my last quarter’s salary.” ↩
A List of such Shipps as were at Sceaueling in attending on his Maty at his returne to England, with an Account of the then Commanders in each Ship, as also an Account of the Gratuity: from a paper in the British Museum. ()
Sir Robert Brooke, Lord of the Manor of Wanstead from 1662 to 1667, M.P. for Aldborough 1660, 1661–69. He retired to France in bad circumstances, and from a letter among the Pepys MSS. it appears that he was drowned in the river at Lyons. ↩
“The House then proceeding upon the debate touching the Election for Castle Rising, between Mr. Pepys and Mr. Offley, did, in the first place, take into consideration what related personally to Mr. Pepys. Information being given to the House that they had received an account from a person of quality, that he saw an Altar with a Crucifix upon it, in the house of Mr. Pepys; Mr. Pepys, standing up in his place, did heartily and flatly deny that he ever had any Altar or Crucifix, or the image or picture of any Saint whatsoever in his house, from the top to the bottom of it; and the Members being called upon to name the person that gave them the information, they were unwilling to declare it without the order of the House; which, being made, they named the Earl of Shaftesbury; and the House being also informed that Sir J. Banks did likewise see the Altar, he was ordered to attend the Bar of the House, to declare what he knew of this matter. ‘Ordered that Sir William Coventry, Sir Thomas Meeres, and Mr. Garraway do attend Lord Shaftesbury on the like occasion, and receive what information his Lordship, can give on this matter.’ ”
—Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix, p. 306
“13th February, Sir W. Coventry reports that they attended the Earl of Shaftesbury, and received from him the account which they had put in writing. The Earl of Shaftesbury denieth that he ever saw an Altar in Mr. Pepys’s house or lodgings; as to the Crucifix, he saith he hath, some imperfect memory of seeing somewhat which he conceived to be a Crucifix. When his Lordship was asked the time, he said it was before the burning of the Office of the Navy. Being asked concerning the manner, he said he could not remember whether it were painted or carved, or in what manner the thing was; and that his memory was so very imperfect in it, that if he were upon his oath he could give no testimony.”
—Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix, p. 309
“16th February—Sir John Banks was called in—The Speaker desired him to answer what acquaintance he had with; Mr. Pepys, and whether he used to have recourse to him to his house and had ever seen there any Altar or Crucifix, or whether he knew of his being a Papist, or Popishly inclined. Sir J. Banks said that he had known and had been acquainted with Mr. Pepys several years, and had often visited him and conversed with him at the Navy Office, and at his house there upon several occasions, and that he never saw in his house there any Altar or Crucifix, and that he does not believe him to be a Papist, or that way inclined in the least, nor had any reason or ground to think or believe it.”
—Journals of the House of Commons, vol, ix, p. 310
Christie’s Life of the First Earl of Shaftesbury, 1871, vol. ii, pp. 195–197. ↩
The office generally known as Secretary of the Admiralty dates back many years, but the officer who filled it was sometimes Secretary to the Lord High Admiral, and sometimes to the Commission for that office. “His Majesties Letters Patent for ye erecting the office of Secretary of ye Admiralty of England, and creating Samuel Pepys, Esq., first Secretary therein,” is dated June 10th, 1684. ↩
Raikes’s Hon. Artillery Company, vol. i, p. 196. ↩
Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, cols. 975, 976. ↩
In Sir G. F. Duckett’s Naval Commissioners, 1660–1760 (privately printed, 1889), there are several particulars as to the life of Samuel Atkins. He was the son of “a colonel on the Parliament side in the late Rebellion,” and from 1670 to 1672 was clerk to Colonel Middleton, one of the Commissioners of the Navy, who died in the latter year. He was then clerk in Chatham Dockyard, and in 1674 “he went as junior clerk … under Mr. Hewer,” and afterwards chief or head-clerk under Pepys, to whom he is said to have been devoted. He was examined before a Committee of the House of Lords, and several times remanded back to Newgate touching the murder of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey. He was eventually acquitted, and having influential friends he subsequently obtained several good appointments. He was a Commissioner of the Navy from 1694 to 1702, and in 1700 he was one of five Commissioners appointed by the House of Lords to state the accounts due to the Army. He died in 1706. An account of Atkins’s case, and other documents connected with Godfrey’s murder, will be found among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library, A. 173. References to Atkins are given in the House of Lords MSS. (“Historical MSS. Commission,” 11th Report, Appendix, part 2, pp. 49–151). Mr. J. R. Tanner communicated an interesting article on “Pepys and the Popish Plot” to the April number (1892) of the English Historical Review. He shows how the alibi which caused the jury to acquit Atkins without leaving the box was prepared by Pepys himself. ↩
In connection with this period of disgrace the following is of interest:
[Endorsed—“The Coffeehouse-Paper, wherein ye scandalous intelligence touching Mr Pepys.”]
“On Tuesday last, Mr Peeps went to Windsor, having ye confidence yt he might kisse ye King’s hand; and being at Court, mett the Lord Chamberlain and made his complent to his Lordshipp. But his Lordshipp told him ye he wondered he should presume to come to Court before he had cleared himselfe, being charged with treason; whose answer was, his innocency was such, that he valued not anything he was charged with; soe parted with his Lordshipp; but by the favour of some courtiers, he was brought into ye King’s presence: but so soon as his Majtie saw him, he frowned and turned aside, showing his dislike of seeing him there.”
Extract from a paper without date
The following contradiction to this statement appeared in The Domestic Intelligencer, and News from Town and Country, 15th and 26th September, 1679: “These are to give notice that all and every part of the relation published in The Domestic Intelligencer the 9th of this instant September, is, as to the matter, and every particular circumstance therein mentioned, altogether false and scandalous, there having no such passage happened, nor anything that might give occasion to that report.” ↩
John James, of Glentworth, co. Lincoln, had been servant to Sir William Coventry, and was recommended to Pepys by Sir R. Mason. James’s evidence against Pepys is given in Grey’s Debates, vol. vii, p. 304. ↩
Pepys’s Life, Journals, and Correspondence, 1841, vol. i, p. 216. ↩
William Harbord sat as M.P. for Thetford in several parliaments. In 1689 he was chosen on the Privy Council, and in 1690 became Vice-Treasurer for Ireland. He was appointed Ambassador to Turkey in 1692, and died at Belgrade in July of that year. ↩
It is included in the Boscobel Tracts, published with Grammont’s Memoirs in Bohn’s Standard Library (Bell and Sons). ↩
Pepys to Hewer, May 10th, 1682 (Pepys’s Life, Journals, and Correspondence, 1841, vol. i, p. 295). ↩
Pepys’s true friend, Mr. Houblon, gave him the following letter of credit when he set out on the expedition:
“London, August 8, 1683.
“Mr. Richard Gough—This goes by my deare friend Mr. Pepys, who is embarked on board the Grafton man-of-war, commanded by our Lord Dartmouth, who is Admiral of the King’s Fleet for this Expedition. If Mr. Pepys’s occasions draw him to Cadiz, you know what love and respect I bear him, so that I need not use arguments with you for to serve him there, which I am sure you will do to the utmost of your power. And wherein you find yourself deficient either for want of language or knowing the country, oblige your friends to help you, that he may have all the pleasure and divertisement there that Cales can afford him. And if his occasions require any money, you will furnish him what he desires, placing it to my account. I shall write you per next post concerning other matters. I am, your loving friend,
“James Houblon.”
Rawlinson MSS.
Pepys kept a journal of his proceedings at Tangier, which is now preserved among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. It was deciphered and published by the Rev. John Smith, in his Life, Journals, and Correspondence of Pepys, 1841. ↩
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 23. ↩
The Diploma sent by the University of Oxford to Mr. Pepys,
Upon his presenting the Portrait of Dr. Wallis to their Picture Gallery, October, 1702.
“Ornatissimo, Optimoque, Viro Samueli Pepys, Armigero, Regibus Carolo Secundo et Jacobo Secundo a Secretis Admiralitæ, Universitas Oxoniensis.
“Te de litteris optimè mereri (Vir ornatissime!) si non multis aliis, hoc uno argumento probari possit, quod litteratorum honori tam impensè faves: certe ante oculos gratissimum simul atque splendidissimum munificentiæ vestræ atque in nos benevolentiæ exemplum quotidie cum laude tuâ observabitur, neque in doctissimi Professoris imagine ipsam quasi depictam mathematicen, insolitamque animi vestri descriptam benignitatem satis unquam mirabimur. Et quidem præclaræ indolis est posse magnum Wallisium in pretio habere, qui nihil unquam vulgare aut sapuit aut fecit, tendit in altos multâ curâ litterarum tractus, sublimesque aperit mathematum vias, cœlis proximus quos metitur et sideribus stellisque quorum numerus ejus arithmeticæ patet, omnesque nisi Lynceum atque Aquilinum oculum fugit. Tu solertissimus tam cœlestis ingenii æstimator, dum tantum in alio meritum suspicis, et dum tam eximii, tam perspicacis in rebus abstrusissimis Viri similitudinem nobis proponis, egregiæ mentis tuæ erigis immortalitatem: non illius formæ atque titulis tantum, verum famæ etiam nomen tuum inscribis, et quantus sis non obscurè inde judicare possumus, quod talem Virum Genti nostras, et litterati Orbis tam grande ornamentum, in amicum tibi cooptasti; pulchrè similes unit amor, atque in eâdem tabula in secula juncti vivatis, utrique perpetuis nostris encomiis dignissimi, quorum alter Academiam exornat, alter ipsum ornantem. At non a solé istius tabulæ diuturnitate utriusque immortalitas æstimanda est. Ilium Motûs Leges et quicquid uspiam cœli terrarumque ab humanâ mente capi, quædam quæ a solâ Wallisianâ inveniri possunt non morituris descripta voluminibus omnium temporum admirationi consecravere; patet vero in laudes tuas ipse Oceanus, quern illâ tam bene instructâ classe contravisti, quæ et potentissimorum hostium, et voracissimorum fluctuum iras potuit contemnere. Tu felicioribus quam ullus unquam Dædalus armamentis naves tuas firmasti, ut navigantium non tantum gloriæ fuerint, vèrum etiam saluti. Tu certè Ligneis Muris Britanniam munivisti, et quod ad utrumque Polum (sive quiddam novi exploraturi, sive victoriam circumferentes) vela nostri explicare potuissent, sola tua cura effecit. Alii res arduas mari aggredi ausi sunt, tuum vero profundius ipso Oceano ingenium audaces reddidit; quod mirâ arte, sive passis velis sive contractis ageretur, excogitavit, ut id tuto poterant præstare. Aliorum virtuti forsan debemus, ut res magnæ agerentur, sed ut agi potuissent, propria gloria est industrisæ tuæ. Fruere ergo felix hâc parte laudis tuæ, quæ tamdiu duratura est, quamdiu erit in usu Pyxis nautica, aut cursus suos peragent Sidera: quam quideni (omissis aliis rebus a quibus immortali gloria viges) ideo tantum memoramus, ne sis nescius probè nos scire quanto a Viro benevolentia ista in nos conferatur, quam gratis animis amplectimur ut non plus debeant artes atque scientitæ Wallisio, neque Reges et Britannia tibi, quam ob hoc præclarum munus nos tibi obæratos læti sentimus, atque optamus ut hoc gratitudinis nostræ testimonium observatissimæ in te nostræ mentis viva imago parem cum vestrâ famâ perennitatis circulum describat, atque adeo sit æterna.
“Datum in Domo Convocationis, Vicesimo tertio die Mensis Octobris, Anno Domini millesimo septingesimo secundo.
“Sigillat: in Domo Convocationis, Vicesimo nono ejusdem Mensis Octobris Annoque Domini supradict.”
Communicated to Lord Braybrooke by the late Mr. William Upcott. It appears, from the Evelyn Papers in the British Museum (bought at Mr. Upcott’s sale), that in September, 1705, Mr. John Jackson made a proposal of marriage to one of Evelyn’s granddaughters, through their common friend, William Hewer. The alliance was declined solely on account of Jackson’s being unable to make an adequate settlement on the young lady; whilst Evelyn (the draught of whose answer is preserved) courteously acknowledged the respect entertained by him for Pepys’s memory, and his sense of his nephew’s extraordinary accomplishments. Mr. Jackson married Anne, daughter of the Rev. John Edgerley, Vicar of Wandsworth, Prebendary of St. Paul’s, and Archdeacon, by Anne, daughter of ⸻ Blackburn, William Hewer’s uncle, often mentioned in the Diary. Mr. Jackson left two sons (at whose death, s. p., the male line became extinct) and five daughters, the youngest of whom married John Cockerell, of Bishop’s Hall, Somerset, and the present representatives are the family of Pepys Cockerell. ↩
From the original in the Bodleian Library:
“London, June 5. Yesterday, in the evening, were performed the obsequies of Samuel Pepys, Esq., in Crutched-Friars’ Church; whither his corpse was brought in a very honourable and solemn manner from Clapham, where he departed this life the 26th day of the last month.”
—Post Boy, No. 1257, June 5, 1703
“June 4th, 1703.—Samuel Peyps, Esqre, buried in a vault by ye Com̃union Table.”
See Ellis’s Early English Pronunciation, part iv, pp. 1230–1243. ↩
The year did not legally begin in England before the 25th March until the act for altering the style fixed the 1st of January as the first day of the year, and previous to 1752 the year extended from March 25th to the following March 24th. Thus since 1752 we have been in the habit of putting the two dates for the months of January and February and March 1 to 24—in all years previous to 1752. Practically, however, many persons considered the year to commence with January 1st, as it will be seen Pepys did. The 1st of January was considered as New Year’s day long before Pepys’s time. The fiscal year has not been altered; and the national accounts are still reckoned from old Lady Day, which falls on the 6th of April. ↩
Pepys was successfully cut for the stone on March 26th, 1658. See March 26th below. Although not suffering from this cause again until the end of his life, there are frequent references in the Diary to pain whenever he caught cold. In a letter from Pepys to his nephew Jackson, April 8th, 1700, there is a reference to the breaking out three years before his death of the wound caused by the cutting for the stone: “It has been my calamity for much the greatest part of this time to have been kept bedrid, under an evil so rarely known as to have had it matter of universal surprise and with little less general opinion of its dangerousness; namely, that the cicatrice of a wound occasioned upon my cutting for the stone, without hearing anything of it in all this time, should after more than 40 years’ perfect cure, break out again.” At the postmortem examination a nest of seven stones, weighing four and a half ounces, was found in the left kidney, which was entirely ulcerated. ↩
Pepys’s house was on the south side of King Street, Westminster; it is singular that when he removed to a residence in the city, he should have settled close to another Axe Yard. Fludyer Street stands on the site of Axe Yard, which derived its name from a great messuage or brewhouse on the west side of King Street, called “The Axe,” and referred to in a document of the 23rd of Henry VIII —B. ↩
Ed. note: … are used to denote censored passages ↩
John Lambert, major-general in the Parliamentary army. The title Lord was not his by right, but it was frequently given to the republican officers. He was born in 1619, at Calton Hall, in the parish of Kirkby-in-Malham-Dale, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. In 1642 he was appointed captain of horse under Fairfax, and acted as major-general to Cromwell in 1650 during the war in Scotland. After this Parliament conferred on him a grant of lands in Scotland worth £1,000 per annum. He refused to take the oath of allegiance to Cromwell, for which the Protector deprived him of his commission. After Cromwell’s death he tried to set up a military government. The Commons cashiered Lambert, Desborough, and other officers, October 12th, 1659, but Lambert retaliated by thrusting out the Commons, and set out to meet Monk. His men fell away from him, and he was sent to the Tower, March 3rd, 1660, but escaped. In 1662 he was tried on a charge of high treason and condemned, but his life was spared. It is generally stated that he passed the remainder of his life in the island of Guernsey, but this is proved to be incorrect by a MS. in the Plymouth Athenaeum, entitled “Plimmouth Memoirs collected by James Yonge, 1684” This will be seen from the following extracts quoted by Mr. R. J. King, in Notes and Queries, “1667 Lambert the arch-rebel brought to this island [St. Nicholas, at the entrance of Plymouth harbour].” “1683 Easter day Lambert that old rebel died this winter on Plimmouth Island where he had been prisoner 15 years and more.” ↩
Sir John Lawson, the son of a poor man at Hull, entered the navy as a common sailor, rose to the rank of admiral, and distinguished himself during the Protectorate. Though a republican, he readily closed with the design of restoring the King. He was vice-admiral under the Earl of Sandwich, and commanded the London in the squadron which conveyed Charles II to England. He was mortally wounded in the action with the Dutch off Harwich, June, 1665. He must not be confounded with another John Lawson, the Royalist, of Brough Hall, in Yorkshire, who was created a Baronet by Charles II, July 6th, 1665. ↩
George Monk, born 1608, created Duke of Albemarle, 1660, married Ann Clarges, March, 1654, died January 3rd, 1676. ↩
“The City sent and invited him [Monk] to dine the next day at Guildhall, and there he declared for the members whom the army had forced away in year forty-seven and forty-eight, who were known by the names of secluded members.”
George Downing was one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the Exchequer, and in his office Pepys was a clerk. He was the son of Emmanuel Downing of the Inner Temple, afterwards of Salem, Massachusetts, and of Lucy, sister of Governor John Winthrop. He is supposed to have been born in August, 1623. He and his parents went to New England in 1638, and he was the second graduate of Harvard College. He returned to England about 1645, and acted as Colonel Okey’s chaplain before he entered into political life. Anthony à Wood (who incorrectly describes him as the son of Dr. Calybute Downing, vicar of Hackney) calls Downing a sider with all times and changes: skilled in the common cant, and a preacher occasionally. He was sent by Cromwell to Holland in 1657, as resident there. At the Restoration, he espoused the King’s cause, and was knighted and elected M.P. for Morpeth, in 1661. Afterwards, becoming Secretary to the Treasury and Commissioner of the Customs, he was in 1663 created a Baronet of East Hatley, in Cambridgeshire, and was again sent Ambassador to Holland. His grandson of the same name, who died in 1749, was the founder of Downing College, Cambridge. The title became extinct in 1764, upon the decease of Sir John Gerrard Downing, the last heir-male of the family. Sir George Downing’s character will be found in Lord Clarendon’s Life, vol. iii p. 4. Pepys’s opinion seems to be somewhat of a mixed kind. He died in July, 1684. ↩
Peter Gunning, afterwards Master of St. John’s College, Cambridge, and successively Bishop of Chichester and Ely. He had continued to read the Liturgy at the chapel at Exeter House when the Parliament was most predominant, for which Cromwell often rebuked him. Evelyn relates that on Christmas Day, 1657, the chapel was surrounded with soldiers, and the congregation taken prisoners, he and his wife being among them. There are several notices of Dr. Gunning in Evelyn’s Diary. When he obtained the mastership of St. John’s College upon the ejection of Dr. Tuckney, he allowed that Nonconformist divine a handsome annuity during his life. He was a great controversialist, and a man of great reading. Burnet says he “was a very honest sincere man, but of no sound judgment, and of no prudence in affairs” (Hist. of his Own Time). He died July 6th, 1684, aged seventy-one. ↩
Exeter House, which stood on the north side of the Strand, to the east of Bedford House, was built by Sir William Cecil, Lord Burghley, whose eldest son was created first Earl of Exeter. It was also known as Cecil and Burleigh House. Exeter Street and Burleigh Street mark the site of the house. ↩
The conduit was situated near the north end of Salisbury Square. Monk’s lodgings were close by. ↩
Theophila Turner, daughter of Sergeant John and Jane Turner, who married Sir Arthur Harris, Bart. She died 1686. ↩
W. Shepley was a servant of Admiral Sir Edward Montagu (afterwards Earl of Sandwich), with whom Pepys was frequently brought in contact. He was steward at Hinchinbroke. ↩
Sir Edward Montagu, born 1625, son of Sir Sidney Montagu, by Paulina, daughter of John Pepys of Cottenham, married Jemima, daughter of John Crew of Stene. He died in action against the Dutch in Southwold Bay, May 28th, 1672. The title of “My Lord” here applied to Montagu before he was created Earl of Sandwich is of the same character as that given to General Lambert. ↩
John Crew, born 1598, eldest son of Sir Thomas Crew, Sergeant-at-Law and Speaker of the House of Commons. He sat for Brackley in the Long Parliament. Created Baron Crew of Stene, in the county of Northampton, at the coronation of Charles II. He married Jemima, daughter and co-heir of Edward Walgrave (or Waldegrave) of Lawford, Essex. His house was in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. He died December 12th, 1679. ↩
Thomas, Lord Fairfax, Generalissimo of the Parliament forces. After the Restoration, he retired to his country seat, where he lived in private till his death, 1671. In a volume (autograph) of Lord Fairfax’s Poems, preserved in the British Museum, 11744, f. 42, the following lines occur upon the 30th of January, on which day the King was beheaded. It is believed that they have never been printed.
“O let that day from time be bloted quitt, And beleef of ’t in next age be waved, In depest silence that act concealed might, That so the creadet of our nation might be saved; But if the powre devine hath ordered this, His will’s the law, and our must aquiess.”
These wretched verses have obviously no merit; but they are curious as showing that Fairfax, who had refused to act as one of Charles I’s judges; continued long afterwards to entertain a proper horror for that unfortunate monarch’s fate. It has recently been pointed out to me, that the lines were not originally composed by Fairfax, being only a poor translation of the spirited lines of Statius (Sylvarum lib. v cap. ii l. 88):
“Excidat illa dies ævo, ne postera credant Secula, nos certè taceamus; et obruta multâ Nocte tegi propria patiamur crimina gentis.”
These verses were first applied by the President de Thou to the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 1572; and in our day, by Mr. Pitt, in his memorable speech in the House of Commons, January, 1793, after the murder of Louis XVI —B. ↩
This gentleman was a connection of Sir Edward Montagu’s, whose daughter Jemima he wanted to marry, but he was not received with favour by her (see January 17th, 1659–60). ↩
Clare Market, named after John Holies, Earl of Clare, was at first known as New Market. John Willis’s Mnemonica, or the Art of Memory, was published in 1661, by “Leonard Sowerby at the Turnstile near New Market in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.” ↩
Mrs. Jemimah, or Mrs. Jem, was Jemima, eldest daughter of Sir Edward Montagu. At this time she and her sister, Mrs. Ann, seem to have been living alone with their maids in London, and Pepys’s duty was to look after them. ↩
Pepys does not appear to have made any progress in learning the game, for on May 15th he writes that he cannot play it. “The game at cribbidge” is described in the Complete Gamester, 1677, and subsequent editions. ↩
Pepys constantly visited “Will’s” about this time; but this could not be the famous coffeehouse in Covent Garden, because he mentions visiting there for the first time, February 3rd, 1663–64. It was most probably the house of William Joyce, who kept a place of entertainment at Westminster (see Jan. 29th). ↩
Jemima, wife of Sir Edward Montagu, daughter of John Crew of Stene, afterwards Lord Crew. ↩
Jane, daughter of John Pepys of South Creake, Norfolk, married to John Turner, Sergeant-at-law, Recorder of York; their only child, Theophila, frequently mentioned as The. or Theoph., became the wife of Sir Arthur Harris, Bart., of Stowford, Devon, and died 1686, s.p. ↩
Mr. Vanley appears to have been Pepys’s landlord; he is mentioned again in the Diary on September 20th, 1660. ↩
Pepys visited several Swan taverns, so that it is impossible to say which one is here referred to. It might have been either the one in the Palace Yard or the one in King Street, Westminster. ↩
It was not usual at this time to sit down to breakfast, but instead a morning draught was taken at a tavern. ↩
The rising of the Fifth Monarchy men is described later on. ↩
Hinchinbroke was Sir Edward Montagu’s seat, from which he afterwards took his second title. Hinchinbroke House, so often mentioned in the Diary, stood about half a mile to the westward of the town of Huntingdon. It was erected late in the reign of Elizabeth, by Sir Henry Cromwell, on the site of a Benedictine nunnery, granted at the Dissolution, with all its appurtenances, to his father, Richard Williams, who had assumed the name of Cromwell, and whose grandson, Sir Oliver, was the uncle and godfather of the Protector. The knight, who was renowned for his hospitality, had the honour of entertaining King James at Hinchinbroke, but, getting into pecuniary difficulties, was obliged to sell his estates, which were conveyed, July 28th, 1627, to Sir Sidney Montagu of Barnwell, father of the first Earl of Sandwich, in whose descendant they are still vested. On the morning of the 22nd January, 1830, during the minority of the seventh Earl, Hinchinbroke was almost entirely destroyed by fire, but the pictures and furniture were mostly saved, and the house has been rebuilt in the Elizabethan style, and the interior greatly improved, under the direction of Edward Blore, Esq., R.A. —B. ↩
Dick Spicer, afterwards a brother clerk with Pepys of the Privy Seal. ↩
It was usual to have a “chest of viols,” which consisted of six, viz., two trebles, two tenors, and two basses (see note in North’s Memoirs of Music, ed. Rimbault, p. 70). The bass viol was also called the viola da gamba, because it was held between the legs. ↩
Later on (January 9th) it is said that Bradshaw’s lodgings were being prepared for Monk. ↩
Edward Montagu, son of Sir Edward, and afterwards Lord Hinchinbroke. ↩
Thomas Pepys, probably the son of Thomas Pepys of London (born, 1595), brother of Samuel’s father, John Pepys. ↩
John Pepys was born in 1641, and his brother Samuel took great interest in his welfare, but he did not do any great credit to his elder. He took orders in 1666, and in 1670 was, through the influence of his brother Samuel, appointed Clerk to the Trinity House. In 1674 he was appointed joint Clerk of the Acts with Thomas Hayter. He died in March, 1676–77, leaving some debts which Samuel paid. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and wife of Thomas Stradwick. ↩
J. Scott was husband of Judith, another daughter of Chief Justice Richard Pepys. ↩
Paulina, sister of Samuel, who was born 1640, and married John Jackson of Brampton, co. Hunts. She had two sons, Samuel and John, the second being heir to his uncle Samuel. ↩
This was probably Joyce Norton, who was cousin to the Turners as well as to Pepys. She was the daughter of Richard Norton of South Creake and his wife, Barbara Pepys. ↩
Dr. Robert Mossum, author of several sermons preached in London, and printed about the time of the Restoration, who was in 1666 made Bishop of Derry. In the title-page of his Apology in Behalf of the Sequestered Clergy, printed in 1660, he calls himself “Preacher of God’s word at St. Peter’s, Paul’s Wharf, London,” and at the end, “one of the sequestered clergy.” This pamphlet is reprinted in Somers Tracts, vol. vii p. 237, edit. 1812. ↩
Declamations at St. Paul’s School, in which there were opponents and respondents. ↩
Henry Scobell was Clerk to the House of Commons. I. ↩
Henry Elsynge, born at Battersea, appointed Clerk of the House of Commons through the influence of Archbishop Laud, resigned in 1648 to avoid taking part in the proceedings against Charles I. He retired to Hounslow, where he died 1654. I. ↩
Miles’s Coffee House in Old Palace Yard, where was held the Rota Club, founded by James Harrington, which is referred to again further on. ↩
John Bradshaw (born 1586), President of the Council of State, died at the Deanery, Westminster, on October 31st, 1659. ↩
Sir Harry Vane the younger, an inflexible republican. He was executed in 1662, on a charge of conspiring the death of Charles I. ↩
Raby Castle in Durham, now the seat of Sir Harry Vane’s descendant, the Duke of Cleveland. ↩
Mr. Jennings is mentioned again August 8th, 1660. ↩
Ralph Greatorex, the well-known mathematical instrument maker of his day. He is frequently mentioned by Pepys. ↩
There are two tokens of the Star Tavern in Cheapside, one dated 1648 and the other 1652 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i 1889, pp. 562, 563). ↩
Captain Okeshott is not mentioned again in the Diary. ↩
James Harrington, the political writer, born January, 1611, author of Oceana, and founder of a club called The Rota, in 1659, which met at Miles’s coffeehouse in Old Palace Yard, and lasted only a few months. He attended Charles I on the scaffold. In 1661 he was sent to the Tower, on suspicion of treasonable designs, and was removed from thence to St. Nicholas Island, near Plymouth, but his intellect having failed his friends obtained his discharge on giving security for his behaviour. He died September 11th, 1667. Henry Nevill and Harrington “had every night a meeting at the (then) Turke’s Head, in the New Palace Yard, where they take water, the next house to the Staires, at one Miles’s, where was made purposely a large oval table, with a passage in the middle, for Miles to deliver his coffee. About it sat his disciples and the virtuosi.” —Aubrey’s Bodleian Letters 1813, vol. ii pt. 2, p. 371 ↩
Sir William Poultny, or Pulteney, subsequently M.P. for Westminster, and a Commissioner of the Privy Seal under King William. Died 1671. Grandfather to William Earl of Bath. ↩
Edward Gold, the merchant. His name occurs among the Governors of Sir Roger Cholmley’s school at Highgate. ↩
William Petty, M.D., an eminent physician and the founder of Political Economy (or Political Arithmetic, as he called it), born May 16th, 1623. He was elected Professor of Music at Gresham College by the interest of Captain John Graunt. Knighted in 1661. He died December 16th, 1687. His widow was created Baroness Shelburne in the Peerage of Ireland, and their eldest son succeeded to the title. ↩
Thomas Scott, M.P., was made Secretary of State to the Commonwealth on the 17th of this same January. He signed the death warrant of Charles I, for which he was executed at Charing Cross, October 16th, 1660. He gloried in his offence, and desired to have written on his tombstone, “Thomas Scott who adjudged to death the late king.” ↩
Thomas Pepys, Samuel’s brother, born 1634 and died 1664. He carried on his father’s business as a tailor. ↩
The game of battledore and shuttlecock was formerly much played even in tennis courts, and was a very violent game. ↩
Edward Walgrave, or Waldegrave, of Lawford, Essex, father of Mrs. Crew. ↩
Captain Philip Holland, at one time captain of Assurance (see December 11th, 1660); he renewed his commission on June 3rd, 1660. ↩
Sir Arthur Haselrigge, Bart., of Nosely, co. Leicester, and M.P. for that county. He brought forward the Bill in the House of Commons for the attainder of the Earl of Strafford, and he was one of the five members charged with high treason by Charles I in 1642. Colonel of a regiment in the Parliament army, and much esteemed by Cromwell. In March, 1659–60, he was committed to the Tower by Monk, where he died, January, 1660–61. Although one of the King’s judges, he did not sign the death-warrant. ↩
Colonel Morley, one of the Council of State, Lieutenant of the Tower. John Evelyn attempted to bring him over to the King’s side, but he hesitated, and lost the honour of restoring the King. ↩
The Lord Mayor was Thomas Allen, created a baronet at the Restoration. ↩
Leonard Pinckney was one of the four Tellers of the Receipt of the Exchequer, and he acted as Clerk of the Kitchen at Charles II’s Coronation feast. His son, William Pinckney, was admitted into his place of Teller in 1661. ↩
Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper was born July 22nd, 1621, and received his early instruction from Puritan private tutors. He was admitted into the Society of Lincoln’s Inn, February 18th, 1638, and was elected Member of Parliament for Tewkesbury in 1640. For a time he favoured the royal cause, but soon transferred his services to the Commonwealth. He had taken his seat for Downton on the 7th of this January. He was created Baron Ashley in 1661, and Earl of Shaftesbury in 1672. ↩
“Baronius informs us that Pope John XIII in 968 consecrated a very large new cast bell in the Lateran Church, and gave it the name of John. This is the first instance I meet with of what has been since called ‘The baptizing of bells,’ a superstition which the reader may find ridiculed in the Beehive of the Romish Church, 1579.” A list of the ceremonies is quoted, and instance given of the practice in 14 Hen. VII, when Sir William Symys, Richard Clech, and Maistres Smyth were godfathers and godmother to a bell at Reading. See Brand’s Popular Antiquities, ed. Hazlitt, vol. ii pp. 239–240. ↩
There is a token of the Green Dragon on Lambeth Hill, dated 1651 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 650). ↩
Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, ob. 1713, æt. suæ 80. We learn, from the memoir prefixed to his Printed Correspondence, that he fought three duels, disarming and wounding his first and second antagonists, and killing the third. The name of the unfortunate gentleman who fell on this occasion was Woolly. Lord Chesterfield, absconding, went to Breda, where he obtained the royal pardon from Charles II. He acted a busy part in the eventful times in which he lived, and was remarkable for his steady adherence to the Stuarts. Lord Chesterfield’s letter to Charles II, and the King’s answer granting the royal pardon, occur in the Correspondence published by General Sir John Murray, in 1829.
“Jan. 17th, 1659. The Earl of Chesterfield and Dr. Woolly’s son of Hammersmith, had a quarrel about a mare of eighteen pounds price; the quarrel would not be reconciled, insomuch that a challenge passed between them. They fought a duel on the backside of Mr. Colby’s house at Kensington, where the Earl and he had several passes. The Earl wounded him in two places, and would fain have then ended, but the stubbornness and pride of heart of Mr. Woolly would not give over, and the next pass [he] was killed on the spot. The Earl fled to Chelsea, and there took water and escaped. The jury found it chance-medley.”
William Fuller, of Magdalen Hall, Oxford, was a schoolmaster at Twickenham during the Rebellion, and at the Restoration became Dean of St. Patrick’s, and, in 1663, Bishop of Limerick, from which see, in 1667, he was translated to Lincoln. He died April 23rd, 1675. ↩
Colonel William Sydenham had been an active officer during the Civil Wars, on the Parliament side; M.P. for Dorsetshire, Governor of Melcombe, and one of the Committee of Safety. He was the elder brother of the celebrated physician of that name. —B. ↩
In the Journals of that date, Major Richard Salwey. Colonel Salway is mentioned as a prisoner in the Tower, 1663–4, in Bayley’s History of the Tower of London, 1830, p. 590. ↩
Richard Cromwell, third son of Oliver Cromwell, born October 4th, 1626, admitted a member of Lincoln’s Inn, May 27th, 1647, fell into debt and devoted himself to hunting and field sports. His succession to his father as Protector was universally accepted at first, but the army soon began to murmur because he was not a general. Between the dissensions of various parties he fell, and the country was left in a state of anarchy: He went abroad early in the summer of 1660, and lived abroad for some years, returning to England in 1680. After his fall he bore the name of John Clarke. Died at Cheshunt, July 12th, 1712. ↩
Fleetwood and Desborough played a double game. John Desborough, born 1608, second son of James Disbrowe, married, 1636, Jane, sister to Oliver Cromwell; Major-General, 1648. Charles Fleetwood, son of Sir William Fleetwood, Cupbearer to James I and Charles I; Lord Deputy of Ireland (for a time being succeeded by Henry Cromwell), became Cromwell’s son-in-law by his marriage with Ireton’s widow, and a member of the Council of State. He seemed disposed to have espoused Charles II’s interests, but had not resolution enough to execute his design. At the Restoration, he was excepted out of the Act of Indemnity, and spent the remainder of his life in retirement at Stoke Newington. He died 1692. ↩
Mr. Wilkinson was landlord of the Crown in King Street, Westminster. ↩
Mr. Butler is usually styled by Pepys Mons. l’Impertinent. ↩
Probably Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Anne Montagu, daughter of Sir Edward Montagu, and sister to Mrs. Jem. ↩
The making of ciphers was a popular amusement about this time. Pepys made several for Montagu, Downing, and others. ↩
Pepys had two friends named Pierce, one the surgeon and the other the purser; he usually (but not always) distinguishes them. The one here alluded to was probably the surgeon, and husband of pretty Mrs. Pierce. After the Restoration James Pearse or Pierce became Surgeon to the Duke of York, and he was also Surgeon-General of the Fleet. ↩
Nieuport, who is described by Evelyn as “a judicious, crafty, and wise man.” ↩
Sir Thomas Widdrington was admitted a member of Gray’s Inn in 1618. As Recorder of Berwick he addressed a loyal speech to Charles I in 1633, when he expressed the wish that his throne might be “established before the Lord for ever.” He afterwards distinguished himself as a zealous Presbyterian, and in 1648 he was appointed a Commissioner of the Great Seal. When the trial of the King was arranged, he and his fellow Commissioner (Whitelocke) kept out of the way, so that they should have nothing to do with that criminal proceeding. Having declined to serve further as Commissioner, he was made Sergeant for the Commonwealth in 1650, and member of the Council of State in 1651. In 1654 he was again appointed Commissioner of the Great Seal, but was dismissed in 1655. He was elected in 1656 for York and for Northumberland, and chose to sit for the county. He was Speaker of this Parliament, which was dissolved in 1658. He was appointed Lord Chief Baron, but soon after was transferred to his former office of Commissioner of the Great Seal. He had the benefit of the Act of Indemnity at the Restoration, and was the first named of the re-appointed sergeants. He died May 13th, 1664, and was buried in the chancel of the church of St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields. ↩
The Swan in Old Fish Street was an old tavern, as it is mentioned in 1413 as the Swan on the Hoop, at the southeast comer of old Fish Street and Bread Street. There is a token of the house. (See Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 691.) ↩
Mr. Falconberge (or Falconbridge, as sometimes spelt) appears to have been a clerk in the Exchequer. Mrs. Barker, Mrs. Pepys’s woman, was previously in the service of Mr. Falconberge. ↩
Mrs. Betty Lane, a haberdasher or seamstress who occupied a stall in the Hall. She is frequently mentioned in the Diary. ↩
These stationers and booksellers, whose shops disfigured Westminster Hall down to a late period, were a privileged class. In the statutes for appointing licensers and regulating the press, there is a clause exempting them from the pains and penalties of these obnoxious laws. The exception in the 14 Car. II cap. 33, sec. xx, runs thus: “Provided alsoe … that neither this act, nor any therein contained, shall be construed to prohibit any person or persons to sell books or papers who have sold books or papers within Westminster Hall, the Palace of Westminster, or in any shopp or shopps within twenty yards of the Great Gate of Westminster Hall aforesaid before the said 20th November, 1661, but they and every of them may sell books and papers as they have or did before the said 20th November, 1661, within the said Hall, Palace, and twenty yards aforesaid, and not elsewhere, anything in this act to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding.” ↩
“Jan. 20th. Then there went out of the City, by desire of the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen, Alderman Fowke and Alderman Vincett, alias Vincent, and Mr. Broomfield, to compliment General Monk, who lay at Harborough Town, in Leicestershire.”
“Jan. 21st. Because the Speaker was sick, and Lord General Monk so near London, and everybody thought that the City would suffer for their affronts to the soldiery, and because they had sent the sword-bearer to the General without the Parliament’s consent, and the three Aldermen were gone to give him the welcome to town, these four lines were in almost everybody’s mouth:
“Monk under a hood, not well understood, The City pull in their horns; The Speaker is out, and sick of the gout, And the Parliament sit upon thorns.”
The Mitre in Fleet Street was opposite St. Dunstan’s Church, and stood on the site of part of Messrs. Hoare’s banking house. It is said to have dated back to Shakespeare’s day. There is a token of “Will. Pagget at the Miter in Fleet Street.” Pagget appears to have succeeded John Bayly, who died January, 1648–9. Mitre Tavern, Mitre Court, is another tavern. (See Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 604.) ↩
William Lenthall, born June, 1591, called to the bar at Lincoln’s Inn in 1616. He was chosen Speaker of Charles I’s second parliament of 1640, but was forced to vacate his chair by Cromwell’s forcible expulsion of the members from the House, 1653. He retired to the Rolls, having been sworn in Master of the Rolls in 1643. He was chosen Speaker of Cromwell’s second parliament in 1654. Cromwell made him one of his Lords, but when the Long Parliament resumed its sittings, he was induced again to take his seat as Speaker. He was three times Keeper of the Great Seal for short periods of time. After the Restoration he was in fear for his safety, but eventually he obtained the royal pardon, and died September 3rd, 1662. ↩
Dr. Robert Mossum (afterwards Bishop of Derry). See January 8th, 1659–60. His name is sometimes written Mossum and sometimes Messum in the Diary. ↩
Dr. Ralph Widdrington, Lady Margaret’s Professor and Public Orator, having been ejected from his fellowship by the Master and Fellows of Christ’s College, Cambridge, October 28th, 1661, sued out a mandamus to be restored to it; and the matter being referred to commissioners—“The Bishop of London, the Lord Chancellor, and some of the judges”—he obtained restitution. —Kennett’s Register, p. 552 ↩
John Herring, a Presbyterian minister, who was afterwards ejected from St. Bride’s, Fleet Street. His farewell sermon is described in the Diary under date August 17th, 1662. ↩
Probably the Axe on the west side of King Street, Westminster, from the predecessor of which tavern Axe Yard, where Pepys lived, took its name. ↩
Anne, daughter of John, first Lord Crew, married to Sir Harry Wright, Bart., M.P. She was sister to Lady Montagu. Lived till 1708. ↩
Mrs. Michell, to whose shop in the Hall Pepys was a frequent visitor. ↩
The Stone Gallery was a long passage between the Privy Garden and the river. It led from the Bowling Green to the Court of the Palace. ↩
The scramble for ribbons, here mentioned by Pepys in connection with weddings (see also January 26th, 1660–61, and February 8th, 1662–63), doubtless formed part of the ceremony of undressing the bridegroom, which, as the age became more refined, fell into disuse. All the old plays are silent on the custom; the earliest notice of which occurs in the old ballad of the wedding of Arthur O’Bradley, printed in the Appendix to Robin Hood, 1795, where we read—
“Then got they his points and his garters, And cut them in pieces like martyrs; And then they all did play For the honour of Arthur O’Bradley.”
Sir Winston Churchill also observes (Divi Britannici, p. 340) that James I was no more troubled at his querulous countrymen robbing him than a bridegroom at the losing of his points and garters. Lady Fanshawe, in her “Memoirs,” says, that at the nuptials of Charles II and the Infanta, “the Bishop of London declared them married in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and then they caused the ribbons her Majesty wore to be cut in little pieces; and as far as they would go, everyone had some.” The practice still survives in the form of wedding favours.
A similar custom is still of every day’s occurrence at Dieppe. Upon the morrow after their marriage, the bride and bridegroom perambulate the streets, followed by a numerous cortege, the guests at the wedding festival, two and two; each individual wearing two bits of narrow ribbon, about two inches in length, of different colours, which are pinned crossways upon the breast. These morsels of ribbons originally formed the garters of the bride and bridegroom, which had been divided amidst boisterous mirth among the assembled company, the moment the happy pair had been formally installed in the bridal bed.—Ex. inf. Mr. William Hughes, Belvedere, Jersey. —B. ↩
Robert Blackburne was Secretary to the Admiralty, with a salary of £250 a year, until the appointment of the Duke of York as Lord High Admiral in July, 1660. James Southerne, his clerk (afterwards clerk to Sir William Coventry), was Clerk of the Acts from 1677 till 1690, when he was appointed Secretary to the Admiralty. ↩
Lieutenant Lambert was appointed captain of the Norwich in June, 1661. His death is mentioned by Pepys under date September 14th, 1665. ↩
Samuel Cromleholme (or Crumlum), born in Wiltshire in 1618; Surmaster of St. Paul’s School, 1647; Head Master in 1657. He was a good scholar, and lost a valuable library when the school was burnt in the Great Fire. Died July 21st, 1672. ↩
Tom Pepys the turner was son of Thomas Pepys, the elder brother of Samuel’s father. He had a shop in Bartholomew Fair in 1667. ↩
Pepys’s uncle and aunt Wight are frequently mentioned in the Diary. ↩
John Hewson, who, from a low origin, became a colonel in the Parliament army, and sat in judgment on the King: he escaped hanging by flight, and died in 1662, at Amsterdam. A curious notice of Hewson occurs in Rugge’s Diurnal, December 5th, 1659, which states that “he was a cobbler by trade, but a very stout man, and a very good commander; but in regard of his former employment, they [the city apprentices] threw at him old shoes, and slippers, and turniptops, and brickbats, stones, and tiles.” … “At this time [January, 1659–60] there came forth, almost every day, jeering books: one was called Colonel Hewson’s Confession; or, a Parley with Pluto, about his going into London, and taking down the gates of Temple-Bar.” He had but one eye, which did not escape the notice of his enemies. —B. ↩
Johannis Buxtorfii Thesaurus Grammaticus Linguæ Sanctæ Hebrææ, 1651, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
“Address to the King by his loyal subjects of the County of Northampton, 20 June, 1660.” Declarations came in from the nobility, knights, and gentry of the several counties, and most of these Declarations appeared before this one from Northampton. These broadsides are in the Library of the British Museum. ↩
Thomas Crew, afterwards knighted, eldest son of John, afterwards Lord Crew, whom he succeeded in that title as second Lord. He died 1697. ↩
William Jessop was Clerk of the Council under the Commonwealth, and Secretary to the Commissioners of Parliament for Accounts. ↩
Fenner lived in Old Bailey. Pepys’s aunt Fenner died August 19th 1661, after twenty-eight years of married life, and his uncle married again in January, 1661–62; see January 19th. Uncle Fenner himself died May 24th, 1664. Their daughter Kate married Anthony Joyce. ↩
Robert Pepys of Brampton, whose will was proved August 23rd, 1661, uncle of Samuel. ↩
Ellenor Pepys (baptized 1598) married George Becke of Lolworth, co. Cambridge. This cousin was probably one of their children. ↩
George Montagu, fifth son of Henry, first Earl of Manchester, afterwards M.P. for Dover, and father of the first Earl of Halifax. He was youngest brother of Lord Manchester. ↩
A place of entertainment within or adjoining Westminster Hall. It is called in Hudibras, “False Heaven, at the end of the Hall.” There were two other alehouses near Westminster Hall, called Hell and Purgatory.
This is the beginning of the Marquis of Montrose’s verses on the execution of Charles I, which Pepys had set to music:
“Great, good, and just, could I but rate My grief and thy too rigid fate, I’d weep the world to such a strain That it should deluge once again. But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies More from Briareus’ hands, than Argus’ eyes, I’ll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds, And write thy epitaph with blood and wounds.”
This may be the Hope Tavern, or more probably the reach of the Thames. ↩
Gio. Torriano, M.A., a teacher of Italian in London, who edited a new edition of Florio’s Italian Dictionary. His Piazza Universale di Proverbi Italiani, published in 1666, is exceedingly rare, as the greater part of the impression was burnt in the Fire of London. ↩
Colonel John Jones, impeached, with General Ludlow and Miles Corbet, for treasonable practices in Ireland. ↩
Probably Edward Waterhouse, an heraldic and miscellaneous writer, styled by Lloyd “as the learned, industrious, and ingenious E. W. of Sion College.” His portrait was engraved by Loggan, and inserted in a book of his, entitled Fortescue Illustratus, folio, 1663; he died in 1670. ↩
Polexandre, by Louis Le Roy de Gomberville, was first published in 1632. The History of Polexander was “done into English by W. Browne,” and published in folio, London, 1647. It was the earliest of the French heroic romances, and it appears to have been the model for the works of Calprenede and Mdlle. de Scudéry; see Dunlop’s History of Fiction for the plot of the romance. ↩
Sir Harry Wright, M.P. for Harwich created a baronet by Cromwell, 1658, and by Charles II, 1660. He married Anne, daughter of the first Lord Crew, and sister to Sir E. Montagu’s wife, and resided at Dagenham, Essex. ↩
Thomas Fitch, colonel of a regiment of foot in 1658, M.P. for Inverness; also Lieutenant of the Tower. ↩
Waterman White went to sea in May, 1661, and Pepys tried to get his place for Waterman Payne. ↩
Roger Pepys, son of Talbot Pepys of Impington, a barrister of the Middle Temple, M.P. for Cambridge, 1661–78, and Recorder of that town, 1660–88. He married, for the third time, Parnell, daughter and heiress of John Duke, of Workingham, co. Suffolk, and this was the wedding for which the posy ring was required. ↩
There were several Rhenish wine-houses in different parts of London. There was one in Cannon Row, and another on the east side of King Street, Westminster. This latter was about the middle of the street. There is a token of “John Garrew at ye old Renishe Wine house, King Street, Westminster,” 1668 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 648). ↩
It is supposed that the fashion of having mottoes inscribed on rings was of Roman origin. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the posy was inscribed on the outside of the ring, and in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was placed inside. A small volume was published in 1674, entitled Love’s Garland: Or Posies for Rings, Handkerchers and Gloves, and Such Pretty Tokens That Lovers Send Their Loves. ↩
Links were torches of tow or pitch to light the way. Ed. ↩
The Mercers Company as the patrons of St. Paul’s School. ↩
Richard Cumberland, of St. Paul’s School, in his seventeenth year, was admitted a pensioner of Magdalene College in 1649, and in 1653 he was elected a Fellow of the College. In 1658 he got possession of the rectory of Brampton, but he was not legally instituted till 1661. He was presented to the rectory of All Saints, Stamford, in 1668. See Diary, March 18th, 1667, where Pepys writes: “The truth is, if he would accept of my sister’s fortune, I should give £100 more with him than to a man able to settle her four times as much as, I fear, he is able to do.” He dedicated his work on Jewish measures, 1686, to the Hon. S. Pepys, “for that good affection being begun in your youth thirty years ago in Magdalene College, Cambridge.” He was made Bishop of Peterborough 1691, and died 1719, aged 86. ↩
“Feb. 6th. General Monk being in his lodgings at Whitehall, had notice that the House had a desire to see him. He came into the Court of Wards, and being there, the Sergeant-at-Arms went to meet him with the mace, and his Lordship attended the Sergeant, who went before him with the mace on his shoulder, being accompanied with Mr. Scott and Mr. Robinson.”
John Colet, Dean of St. Paul’s, born 1466, died September 16th, 1519. ↩
“Fox, or some other ‘weighty’ friend, on hearing of this, complained to Monk, who issued the following order, dated March 9th: ‘I do require all officers and soldiers to forbear to disturb peaceable meetings of the Quakers, they doing nothing prejudicial to the Parliament or the Commonwealth of England. George Monk.’ This order, we are told, had an excellent effect on the soldiers.”
A. C. Bickley’s George Fox and the Early Quakers, London, 1884, p. 179
The Quakers were at this time just coming into notice. The first preaching of George Fox, the founder, was in 1648, and in 1655 the preachers of the sect numbered seventy-three. Fox computed that there were seldom less than a thousand quakers in prison. The statute 13 and 14 Car. II cap. i (1662) was “An act for preventing the mischiefs and dangers that may arise by certain persons called quakers and others, refusing to take lawful oaths.” Billing is mentioned again on July 22nd, 1667, when he addressed Pepys in Westminster Hall. ↩
Oliver St. John, born about 1598 called to the Bar as a member of Lincoln’s Inn, 1626; M.P. for Totnes, 1640; Solicitor-General, January, 1640–1; Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 1648, and afterwards Lord Chief Justice of the Upper Bench. He died December 31st, 1673. His first wife, Johanna Altham, was aunt to Oliver Cromwell and to John Hampden. His second wife was Elizabeth Cromwell, first cousin to Oliver. ↩
College Entry Book, Junij 27, 1651: “Thomas ffossan, filius Thomæ ffossan, civis Londinensis, annum agens decimū Septimū e schola de St. Mary Axe apud Londinenses, admissus est Pensionarius, tutore Dno. Moreland.” —M. B. ↩
The Rev. Charles Carter, a minister in Huntingdonshire; see December 23rd, 1660. ↩
John Thurloe, born 1616; Secretary of State to Cromwell; M.P. for Ely, 1656, and for the University of Cambridge in Richard Cromwell’s Parliament of December, 1658. He was never employed after the Restoration, although the King solicited his services. He died February 21st, 1668. Pepys spells the name Thurlow, which was a common spelling at the time. ↩
Balthasar St. Michel. Pepys seems to have done well for his brother-in-law in later life, although, from the entries in the Diary, he does not appear to have had a high opinion of him. St. Michel was Muster Master at Deale in 1674, Storekeeper at Tangier in 1681, and Naval Commissioner at Deptford in 1685. ↩
This was a constant trouble to the pedestrian until the rule of passing to the right of the person met was generally accepted. Gay commences his Trivia with an allusion to this—
“When to assert the wall, and when resign—”
and the epigram on the haughty courtier and the scholar is well known. ↩
The King’s Bench was called the Upper Bench at the time of the Commonwealth, when the word King was abolished universally. ↩
Sir Robert Pye, the elder, was auditor of the Exchequer, and a staunch Royalist. He garrisoned his house at Faringdon, which was besieged by his son, of the same names, a decided Republican, son-in-law to Hampden, and colonel of horse under Fairfax. The son, here spoken of, was subsequently committed to the Tower for presenting a petition to the House of Commons from the county of Berks, which he represented in Parliament, complaining of the want of a settled form of government. He had, however, the courage to move for an habeas corpus, but judge Newdigate decided that the courts of law had not the power to discharge him. Upon Monk’s coming to London, the secluded members passed a vote to liberate Pye, and at the Restoration he was appointed equerry to the King. He died in 1701. —B. ↩
This was the Sackville College for the poor, at East Grinstead, founded by Robert Sackville, second Earl of Dorset, who died in 1608. There is a good account of Sackville College in the Gentleman’s Magazine for December, 1848. —B. ↩
The Court of Wards and Liveries was first erected in the reign of Henry VIII for the administration of the estates of the king’s wards during their minority, and for delivery of seizin upon coming of age. The court was practically put an end to by the Long Parliament (by resolution of both houses), and was abolished 12 Car. II. ↩
Sir Thomas Widdrington and Sergeants Thomas Tyrrell and John Fountaine had just been appointed Lords Commissioners of the Great Seal. ↩
There are tokens of George Bryan at the Sugar Loaf without Temple Bar (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 761). ↩
The quaker mentioned before on the 7th of this month. ↩
Matthew Lock, the famous composer, was a native of Exeter and a chorister in the cathedral of that city. He was employed to write some triumphal music for performance during the King’s progress from the Tower to Whitehall. After which he was appointed composer in ordinary to the King. The music to Macbeth, associated with his name, is by many attributed to Purcell. Lock became a Roman Catholic, and resigning his appointment at the Chapel Royal was made organist to the Queen at Somerset House. He died in August, 1677. ↩
The Committee of Public Safety consisted of the following members: Fleetwood, Lambert, Desborough, Steel, Whitelocke, Vane, Ludlow, Sydenham, Salloway, Strickland, Berry, Lawrence, Sir James Harrington, Johnston of Warriston, Henry Brandreth, Cornelius Holland, Colonels Hewson, Clarke, Bennet, and Lilburn. ↩
Praise God Barebone (or Barbon), an active member of the Parliament called by his name. About this period he had appeared at the head of a band of fanatics, and alarmed Monk, who well knew his influence. He was a leather seller in Fleet Street. He died January, 1679–80, and was buried at St. Andrew’s, Holborn. ↩
Thomas Scott, referred to on January 10th of this year, and Luke Robinson. Both were members of Parliament and of the Council of State. They were selected, as firm adherents of the Rump, to watch Monk’s proceedings. ↩
An eminent merchant actively engaged in the African trade, and one of the farmers of the Customs. He had advanced large sums to assist Charles I, who knighted him, January 1st, 1641. He was elected member of Parliament for Winchelsea in the Long Parliament, but expelled February 2nd, 1641. He was one of the Commission sent to Charles II at Breda, and created a baronet April 16th, 1665. He died February 26th, 1665–6, and was buried in the church of St. Mildred, Bread Street. His mansion at Hammersmith stood on the site of Brandenburgh House. ↩
Described in Maitland’s History of London as a handsome bridge crossing the Strand, near the east end of Catherine Street, under which a small stream glided from the fields into the Thames, near Somerset House. ↩
Nathaniel Holmes, D.D., of Exeter College, Oxford. He was the intruding incumbent of St. Mary Staining, London, and ejected by the Act of Uniformity, and died in 1676. He was a very learned, but voluminous and fanciful writer. A list of his works is given in Wood’s Athenæ (ed. Bliss), vol. iii, 1160. See also Kennett’s Register, p. 827. ↩
Anne Clarges, said to be the daughter of a blacksmith, but a more distinguished parentage has been given to her brother. She was bred a milliner, and became first mistress of General Monk and afterwards (1654) his wife. It was said that when she married Monk she had a husband named Radford living. ↩
Monk lodged at the Glasshouse in Broad Street. “Feb. 12, 1659–60, Monk drew up his forces in Finsbury, dined with the Lord Mayor, had conference with him and the Court of Aldermen, retired to the Bull Head in Cheapside, and quartered at the Glasshouse in Broad Street.” —Whitelocke ↩
Joseph Kirton was a bookseller in St. Paul’s Churchyard, at the sign of “The King’s Arms,” ruined by the Fire of London. His death, in October, 1667, is recorded in Smith’s Obituary, printed for the Camden Society. He was buried in St. Faith’s. ↩
Edward Pepys of Broomsthorpe, co. Norfolk, and of the Middle Temple, born 1617; married Elizabeth, daughter and co-heiress of John Walpole of Broomsthorpe. He was brother of Mrs. Turner, and died December 22nd, 1663. ↩
Pepys calls Charles Glasscock cousin under July 29th, 1661, but he was really no relation. He was brother-in-law of his first cousin’s wife (Judith Pepys, née Cutter). Glasscock lived in Fleet Street (see April 22nd, 1661). ↩
John Playford (1623–1693), the music-seller, whose shop was in the Temple. His Introduction to the Skill of Music, first published in 1655, went through many editions. He was known as “Honest John Playford,” and was succeeded in his business by his son Henry. ↩
The practice of choosing valentines was very general at this time, but some of the best examples of the custom are found in this Diary. ↩
Thomas Lord Fairfax, mentioned before. He had succeeded to the Scotch barony of Fairfax of Cameron, on the death of his father in 1647; even after his accession to the title he is frequently styled “Sir Thomas” in the pamphlets and papers of the day. ↩
Sir H. Vane the younger had married Frances, daughter of Sir Christopher Wray of Ashby, Lincolnshire Bart. ↩
Roger Cuttance, a native of Weymouth, appointed captain of the Peace frigate in 1651, and to the Naseby in 1657. He was knighted, July 1st, 1665, after having in the battle of June 3rd mainly contributed to the defeat of the Dutch. He afterwards fell into disgrace. ↩
Anne Pepys, of Worcestershire, married Mr. Fisher for her second husband. (See June 12th, 1662.) ↩
Edward Walgrave (or Waldegrave) was the father of Jemima, wife of John Crew, afterwards Lord Crew. ↩
Frances Butler, the great beauty, who is sometimes styled la belle Boteler. ↩
“They were brought to the place of execution, which was at Charing Cross, and over against Somerset House in the Strand, where were two gibbets erected. These men were the grand actors in the mutinies at Gravesend, at Somerset House, and in St. James’ Fields.”
Purl is hot beer flavoured with wormwood or other aromatic herbs. The name is also given to hot beer flavoured with gin, sugar, and ginger. ↩
Thomas Gregory was, in 1672, Clerk of the Cheque at Chatham. ↩
This pamphlet is among the Thomason Collection of Civil War Tracts (British Museum), and dated in MS. this same day, February 20th—A Plea for Limited Monarchy as it was established in this Nation before the late War. In an Humble Address to his Excellency General Monck. By a Zealot for the good old Laws of his Country, before any Faction or Caprice, with additions. An Eccho to the Plea for Limited Monarchy, etc., was published soon afterwards. ↩
Chancery Row must have been near the end of the hall where the Court of Chancery was situated. ↩
This remarkable speech is given at length by Rugge, who adds that about fourscore of the secluded members attended the first meeting of the House. It is highly probable that Monk had ascertained that they were ready to support him, before he committed himself to the Parliament. —B. ↩
William Prynne, born 1600, well known by his voluminous publications, and the persecution which he endured. He was M.P. for Bath, 1660, and died October 24th, 1669. Appointed Keeper of Tower Records, 1660. ↩
Matthew Lock, see ante, February 11th, 1659–60. Henry Purcell, father of the celebrated composer, was gentleman of the Chapel Royal, member of the Royal Band, singing-man at Westminster Abbey, master of the boys there, and music copyist. He died 1664. ↩
Richard Brown, William Wilde, John Robinson, and William Vincent. ↩
Sir George Booth of Dunham Massey, Bart., created Baron De la Mere, 1661, for his services in behalf of the King. At this time he was a prisoner in the Tower, from which he was released the next day. Died 1684. ↩
Silas Taylor published The History of Gavel-Kind in 1663. ↩
Richard Brown, a major-general of the Parliament forces, citizen of London and a woodmonger; Sheriff of London, 1647. He was imprisoned for five years, but in Richard Cromwell’s Parliament he was one of the members for London. He was one of the deputation from the City of London to Charles II at Breda, and he and his eldest son were knighted. Lord Mayor, 1660; he was created a baronet for his prompt action during Venner’s insurrection, and the City rewarded him with a pension of £500. He died September 24th, 1669. ↩
Boiled salt beef. To powder was to sprinkle with salt, and the powdering tub a vessel in which meat was salted. ↩
This support for the neck is mentioned on the previous February 1st, where Mrs. Scott and her husband are said to have promised to get it made. ↩
William Pierrepoint, M.P. of Thoresby, second son to Robert, first Earl of Kingston, and known as “Wise” Pierrepoint. He died 1679, aged 71. ↩
The old Falcon Inn is on the south side of Petty Cury. It is now divided into three houses, one of which is the present Falcon Inn, the other two being houses with shops. The Falcon yard is but little changed. From the size of the whole building it must have been the principal inn of the town. The room said to have been used by Queen Elizabeth for receptions retains its original form. —M. B. ↩
The Petty Cury. The derivation of the name of this street, so well known to all Cambridge men, is a matter of much dispute among antiquaries. (See Notes and Queries.) The most probable meaning of it is the Parva Cokeria, or little cury, where the cooks of the town lived, just as “The Poultry,” where the Poulters (now Poulterers) had their shops. The Forme of Cury, a Roll of Ancient English Cookery, was compiled by the principal cooks of that “best and royalest viander of all Christian Kings,” Richard the Second, and edited with a copious Index and Glossary by Dr. Samuel Pegge, 1780. —M. B. ↩
Extract from admission-book of Christ’s College, Cambridge:
“Febr. 25°. 1660.
“Johannes a Johanne Pepys Londini natus literas edoctus a Dno Crumbleholm Scholæ Paulinæ Moderatore annos natus 18 admissus est Sizator sub Mro. Widdrington.
“Hic cum prius admissus est in Collegium Magdalense Maii 26to. ut ex literis testimonialibus constat ejusdem etiam anni apud nos habendus est.”
This might read “Pepys’s scholars,” but there do not appear to have been any such scholars. ↩
Joseph Hill, a native of Yorkshire, chosen in 1649 Fellow of Magdalene College, and in 1659 University Proctor: he afterwards retired to London, and, according to Calamy, was offered a bishopric by Charles II, which he declined, disliking the terms of conformity and accepting a call to the English Church at Rotterdam in 1678, died there in 1707, aged 83.
Clement Zanchy, admitted at Magdalene College, Cambridge, 1648, and Foundation Fellow, 1654. At the College meetings he spelt his name “Zanchy,” at first, but in 1656 he changed it to “Sankey,” and it is sometimes spelt “Sanchy.” —M. B. ↩
Hezekiah Burton, of Lound, Nottinghamshire, pensioner of Magdalene College, 1647. His admission to a Wray Fellowship is curious:
“Mar. 8. 1650.
“Hezekias Burton in Artibus Baccalaureus hujus Collij, authoritate ordinationis Parliamentariæ, admissus est in sodalitium Mri. Johannis David, eadem authoritate vacant.”
Percival Angier. His affairs appear to have got into disorder at the end of 1663, and he became a bankrupt. He died in January, 1664–65, and was buried on the 19th of that month. ↩
William Fairbrother, Fellow of King’s College, Cambridge, was made D.D. of Cambridge, per Regias litteras, in 1661. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Naseby while fighting on the King’s side, and sent to London. ↩
A pamphlet by George Bate, M.D., first published anonymously in 1649, and frequently reprinted. It was translated into Italian and published at Venice in 1652. After the Restoration it was reprinted and a second part added. The following is the title: “Elenchus Motuum nuperorum in Anglia; simul ac juris Regii at Parlamentarii brevis enarratio. A. 2455 Lutetiæ Parisiorum pro R. R. An. Dom. 1649.” 12º. Address to the reader signed “Theodorus Veridicus.” “Elenchi Motuum Nuperorum in Anglia pars prima; simul ac Juris Regii & Parlamentarii brevis enarratio, ab autore Geor. Batio, M.D. Regiæ Majestatis Protomedico recognita & aucta Ære Christianæ Anno 1660. Londini typis J. Flesher & prostant apud R. Royston in Ivy Lane, 1661.” 8vo “Pars J. Secunda. Simul ac Regiæ Effugii mirabilis è Prætio Wigornia enarratio. Londini, 1663.” ↩
The Tripos or Bachelor of the Stool, who made the speech on Ash Wednesday, when the senior Proctor called him up and exhorted him to be witty but modest withal. Their speeches, especially after the Restoration, tended to be boisterous, and even scurrilous. “26 Martii 1669. Ds Hollis, fellow of Clare Hall is to make a public Recantation in the Bac. Schools for his Tripos speeche.” The Tripos verses still come out, and are circulated on Ash Wednesday. The list of successful candidates for honours is printed on the same paper, hence the term “Tripos” applied to it. ↩
John Peachell, Vicar of Stanwick and Prebendary of Carlisle, made Master of Magdalene College, 1679, suspended from that office and deprived of the Vice-Chancellorship, May 7th, 1687, for refusing to admit Alban Francis, a Benedictine monk, to the degree of Master of Arts without his taking the oaths. He was restored by James II’s letter to the Mastership, October, 1688, and died 1690.
A copy of Dr. Peachell’s sentence as it was fixed on the public School Doors and Magdalene College Gates:
“By His Majesties Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Causes and for the Visitation of the University and of every Collegiate and Cathedral Churches, Colledges, Grammar Schools, Hospitals and other the like Incorporations, or Foundations or Societies.
“Whereas John Peachell, Dr. of Divinity, Vice Chancellour of Cambridge, Master of Magdalen Colledge, in the said University, has been conveñd before us for his disobedience to his Majesties Royal Letters mandatory and other his contempts: and the said Dr. John Peachell having been fully heard thereupon, we have thought fit after mature consideration of the matter to declare, decree and pronounce that the said Dr. John Peachell, shall for the said disobedience and contempt, be deprived from being Vice Chancellour of the said University, and from all power of acting in the same: and also that he be suspended ab officio et beneficio of his Mastership of the said Colledge, during his Majesties pleasure: and accordingly we do by these presents deprive him the said Dr. John Peachell from being Vice Chancellour of the said University and from all power of acting in the same. And we also suspend him ab officio et beneficio of his Mastership of the said Colledge, peremptorily admonishing and requiring him hereby to abstain from the function of Master of the said Colledge, during the said suspension under pain of deprivation from his said Mastership. And we also further order and decree, that the profit and perquisites belonging to his, said Mastership, shall during the same suspension be applyed to the use and benefit of the said Colledge.
“Given under our Seal, the 7th day of May 1687.”
“Finis.”
“I find in the first Lord Dartmouth’s manuscript notes on Bishop Burnet’s History, that Dr. Peachell afterwards starved himself to death, Archbishop Sancroft having rebuked him for setting an ill example in the University by drunkenness and other loose behaviour. He did penance by four days’ abstinence, after which he would have eaten but could not.”
From the Master of Magdalene’s “private” book
For his red nose, which made Pepys ashamed to be seen with him, see Diary, May 3rd, 1667. —M. B. ↩
The Rose Tavern opened on the Market Hill at the end of Rose Crescent. —M. B. ↩
Then the residence of James Howard, third Earl of Suffolk. It was built by Thomas, the first earl, at the commencement of the seventeenth century, and called after his maternal ancestor. Lord Chancellor Audley, to whom the monastery of Walden, the site of which is occupied by the present house, had been granted at the Dissolution. —B. ↩
The inscription and the bowl are still to be seen at King Edward VI’s almshouses, Saffron Walden. There is an engraving and description of this bowl in Mr. W. H. St. John Hope’s paper, “On the English Medieval Drinking Bowls Called Mazers,” in Archæologia, vol. 1 (p. 163 and plate xiii). ↩
Edward Reynolds, D.D., Preacher of Lincoln’s Inn; Dean of Christ Church, 1648–50; Bishop of Norwich, 1660–1676. He died July 28th, 1676, aged 76. The sermon which Pepys heard was printed, and has the following title: “The Wall and Glory of Jerusalem, in a Sermon preached in St. Paul’s Church, London, before the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, Lord General, Aldermen, Common Council and Companies of the Honourable City of London, February 28, 1659, being a day of solemn Thanksgiving unto God for restoring the Parliament and Common Council and for preserving the City. By Edward Reynolds, D.D. London, 1660.” ↩
Grocers’ Hall was the scene of many important occurrences during the period of the Great Rebellion. This was the first hall on the present site between the Poultry and Princes Street, which was built in 1427. The second hall was built after the Great Fire, and the present one was opened in 1802. ↩
William Howe is frequently mentioned in the Diary, and he appears more than once to have got into trouble. He is mentioned as Deputy Treasurer of the Navy, under date September 18th, 1665. ↩
As the Greyhound is mentioned so soon after the Plough it also may have been in Fleet Street. See November 12th, 1661. ↩
A liquor made of honey and water, boiled and fermenting. By 12 Charles II cap. 23, a grant of certain impositions upon beer, ale, and other liquors, a duty of ½d. per gallon was laid upon “all metheglin or mead.” ↩
Thomas Crew, eldest son of John, afterwards first Lord Crew. ↩
Son of Sir Christopher Yelverton, the first baronet, grandson of Sir Henry Yelverton, Judge C.P., author of the Reports. He married Susan, Baroness Grey de Ruthyn, which title descended to his issue. His son was afterwards advanced to the dignity of Viscount Longueville, and his grandson to the earldom of Sussex. The Yelverton Collection of MSS. belongs to Lord Calthorpe, whose ancestor married a daughter of the first Viscount Longueville. —B. ↩
Probably the Sun Tavern in King Street, Westminster (see August 3rd, 1668). There is a token of this house described in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 649. ↩
The Leg tavern in King Street appears to have been a house of good resort. It is mentioned in Burton’s Diary as the scene of a dinner of the Clothworkers’ Company, December 18th, 1656, who had then a cause before the House of Commons. Pepys frequently visited it. ↩
Charles II, or George Monk, or Richard Cromwell. ↩
Compare a letter of Mr. Luttrell to Ormond, March 9th, 1660, in Carte’s Letters, vol. ii p. 312:
“Yesterday there was a debate about the form of the dissolution, when Mr. Prynne asserted the King’s right in such bold language that I think he may be styled the Cato of this age.”
John Creed of Oundle, Esq. From the way in which Pepys speaks of his friend, he was probably of humble origin, and nothing is known of his history previously to the Restoration, when he seems to have been a retainer in the service of Sir Edward Montagu. In 1662 he was made Secretary to the Commissioners for Tangier, and in 1668 he married Elizabeth Pickering, the niece of his original patron, by whom he had eleven children. Major Richard Creed, the eldest son, who was killed at the battle of Blenheim, lies buried in Tichmarsh Church, in Northamptonshire, where there is also a monument erected to his father, describing him as “of Oundle,” and as having served King Charles II in divers honourable employments at home and abroad, lived with honour, and died lamented, A.D. 1701. What these employments were cannot now be ascertained. There exists still a cenotaph to the memory of the major in Westminster Abbey. Mrs. Creed, wife of John Creed of Oundle, Esq., was the only daughter of Sir Gilbert Pickering, Bart., by Elizabeth, only daughter of Sir Edward Montagu, and sister of Edward Montagu, first Earl of Sandwich. See Malone’s Life of Dryden, p. 339. —B. ↩
Warwick House, on the north side of Holborn, a little to the west of Gray’s Inn Gate. It had given place to Warwick Court in 1708. ↩
Edward Montagu, second Earl of Manchester, the Parliamentary General, afterwards particularly instrumental in the King’s Restoration, became Chamberlain of the Household, K.G., a Privy Councillor, and Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. He died in 1671, having been five times married. ↩
Sir Dudley North, K.B., became the fourth Lord North on the death of his father in 1666. He died 1677. ↩
John, third son of William, first Viscount Say and Sele, and one of Oliver’s Lords. ↩
George, fourteenth Lord Berkeley of Berkeley, created Viscount Dursley and Earl of Berkeley, 1679. There were at this time two Lord Berkeleys, each possessing a town house called after his name, which misled Pennant. George, fourteenth Lord Berkeley of Berkeley, advanced to an earldom in 1679, the peer here spoken of, lived at Berkeley House, in the parish of St. John’s, Clerkenwell, which had been in his family for three generations, and he had a country-seat at Durdans, near Epsom, mentioned by Evelyn and Pepys. He presented the library of his uncle, Sir Robert Coke, to Sion College, and that institution possesses a painted portrait of the earl in his robes. He died October 14th, 1698. The other nobleman, originally known as Sir John Berkeley, and in the service of Charles I, created in 1658 Baron Berkeley of Stratton, subsequently filled many high offices in the State. See post, July 12th, 1660. ↩
There is a token of “Edmund Browne at the Pall Mall,” on which he describes himself as “Strong water man” (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 694). ↩
Charles X, Gustavus, King of Sweden, died on February 3rd, 1659–60 (see March 8th). ↩
Orpheus’ hymn, “King of Heaven and Hell and Sea and Earth,” by Henry Lawes, is printed in The Second Book of Ayres and Dialogues. London (Playlord), 1655. ↩
The theorbo was a bass lute. Having gut strings it was played with the fingers. There is a humorous comparison of the long waists of ladies, which came into fashion about 1621, with the theorbo, by Bishop Corbet:
“She was barr’d up in whale-bones, that did leese None of the whale’s length, for they reached her knees; Off with her head, and then she hath a middle As her waste stands, just like the new found fiddle, The favourite Theorbo, truth to tell ye, Whose neck and throat are deeper than the belly.”
There is a token of the Salutation at Billingsgate (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 531). ↩
The body of Poor Knights of Windsor was founded by Edward III. The intention of the king with regard to the poor knights was to provide relief and comfortable subsistence for such valiant soldiers as happened in their old age to fall into poverty and decay. On September 20th, 1659, a Report having been read respecting the Poor Knights of Windsor, the House “ordered that it be referred to a Committee, to look into the revenue for maintenance of the Poor Knights of Windsor,” etc. (See Tighe and Davis’s Annals of Windsor.) ↩
John Goods. He went to sea with Sir Edward Montagu. ↩
The Swiftsure was a second-rate of sixty guns, built at Woolwich in 1654 by Christopher Pett. ↩
The Nazeby was commanded by Captain, afterwards Sir Richard Stayner. It was a first-rate of eighty guns, built at Woolwich in 1655 by Christopher Pett. ↩
Major-General Overton was committed to the Tower in 1649, 1655, and in December, 1660. ↩
See note 359, where it is stated that Monk had dined at nine of the halls. ↩
Evelyn, about the same date (August 9th, 1661), “tried several experiments on the sensitive plant and humilis, which contracted with the least touch of the sun through a burning glass, though it rises and opens only when it shines on it.” ↩
The Angel tavern in King Street, Westminster. A token of this house, kept by Will. Carter, is described in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, by Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 647. ↩
The Cock alehouse at Temple Bar was originally called the Cock and Bottle, and dates back to the reign of James I. It was pulled down in 1882. There is a very scarce token of the house, dated 1665 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 762). ↩
The Sun Tavern behind the Royal Exchange was a famous house in its day. A token of it is described in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, by Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 591. It was rebuilt by John Wadlow after the Great Fire. ↩
Brampton in Huntingdonshire, where Pepys was probably born, and where his father afterwards retired. ↩
John Pepys, younger brother of Samuel; Paulina, sister of Samuel, afterwards Mrs. Jackson. ↩
Richard Hutchinson was Deputy Treasurer to Sir Henry Vane, whom he succeeded as Treasurer of the Navy in 1651. He continued to hold the office until the Restoration. ↩
There were several Dog taverns in London, but the one at Westminster mentioned by Pepys was the famous tavern in King Street, which was frequented previously by Ben Jonson. It was chiefly resorted to by Cavaliers. There is a token of the “Black Dog” (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 649). ↩
Charles X, Gustavus, son of John Casimir, Count Palatine of the Rhine. He succeeded his cousin Christina, who resigned the crown in 1654. ↩
The Painted Chamber, or St. Edward’s Chamber, in the old Palace at Westminster. The first name was given to it from the curious paintings on the walls, and the second from the tradition that Edward the Confessor died in it. ↩
This is the first notice in the Diary of the Navy Office in Crutched Friars. ↩
His father was a tailor, and this was his cutting-out room. ↩
Mr. Bowyer, of Huntsmore, Bucks, was an old friend of Pepys, and, according to a habit of the time, he sometimes styled him father (see November 7th, 1660). This misled Lord Braybrooke into supposing that he was Mrs. Pepys’s stepfather. ↩
Daniel Rawlinson, the Royalist host of the Mitre in Fenchurch Street. ↩
Thomas Hater appears to have been a clerk at the Navy Office before Pepys went there. In July, 1660, he became Pepys’s clerk; in 1674 he was appointed Clerk of the Acts, and in 1679 Secretary of the Admiralty. ↩
Huntsmore, a hamlet belonging to Iver, in which parish Robert Bowyer founded a free school about 1750. —Lysons’ Hist. of Bucks, p. 587 ↩
The Speaker was renamed the Mary after the Restoration. It was built at Woolwich by Christopher Pett in 1649. It was a third-rate of fifty-four guns and 395 tonnage. ↩
Clement Clerke of Lawnde Abbey, co. Leicester, created a baronet in 1661. ↩
Robert Montagu, Viscount Mandeville, eldest son of the Earl of Manchester, whom he succeeded in 1671. ↩
Robert Bernard, created a baronet in 1662, served in Parliament for Huntingdon, before and after the Restoration, and died in 1666. His son and successor, Sir John Bernard, the second baronet, at the time of his death, in 1669, was one of the knights of the shire for the county of Huntingdon. The inscription upon his monument in Brampton Church is given in the Topographer and Genealogist, vol. i p. 113. Sir Nicholas Pedley, who was also burgess for Huntingdon, married a daughter of Sir Robert Bernard. —B. ↩
John Burr, the clerk who accompanied Pepys to sea. ↩
The Rolls Chapel, where were kept the rolls and records of the Court of Chancery until the erection of the Record Office in Fetter Lane in 1856. ↩
On February 28th Pepys styles the Royal Exchange the Old Exchange; now it is the Great Exchange. ↩
“Then the writing in golden letters, that was engraven under the statue of Charles I, in the Royal Exchange (Exit tyrannus, Regum ultimus, anno libertatis Angliae, anno Domini 1648, Januarie xxx.) was washed out by a painter, who in the day time raised a ladder, and with a pot and brush washed the writing quite out, threw down his pot and brush and said it should never do him any more service, in regard that it had the honour to put out rebels’ handwriting. He then came down, took away his ladder, not a misword said to him, and by whose order it was done was not then known. The merchants were glad and joyful, many people were gathered together, and against the Exchange made a bonfire.
Rugge’s Diurnal
In the Thomason Collection of Civil War Tracts at the British Museum is a pamphlet which is dated in MS. March 21st, 1659–60, where this act is said to be by order of Monk: “The Loyal Subjects Teares for the Sufferings and Absence of their Sovereign Charles II, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland; with an Observation upon the expunging of Exit Tyrannus, Regum ultimus, by order of General Monk, and some Advice to the Independents, Anabaptists, Phanatiques, etc. London, 1660.” ↩
The Harp was a sixth-rate of eight guns, built at Dublin in 1656. ↩
Laud Crisp was afterwards page to Lady Sandwich. ↩
Thomas Blagrave was one of the Gentlemen of the Royal Chapel, and a cornet-player of repute. ↩
Major Richard Creed, who commanded a troop under Lambert when that general surrendered to Ingoldsby: see April 24th following. He was imprisoned with the rest of the officers, but his name does not recur in the Diary, nor is it known whether he was related to John Creed, so frequently mentioned hereafter. ↩
Foy. A feast given by one who is about to leave a place. In Kent, according to Grose, a treat to friends, either at going abroad or coming home. See Diary, November 25th, 1661. ↩
Monteeres, montero (Spanish), a kind of huntsman’s cap. ↩
In the MS. there is the following note appended to this: “In an error here, for I did not take leave of them till the next day.” ↩
“In this month the wind was very high, and caused great tides, so that great hurt was done to the inhabitants of Westminster, King Street being quite drowned. The Maidenhead boat was cast away, and twelve persons with her. Also, about Dover the waters brake in upon the mainland; and in Kent was very much damage done; so that report said, there was £20,000 worth of harm done.”
William, second son of Edward, first Lord Montagu of Boughton, and first cousin to Sir Edward Montagu. He was appointed Lord Chief Baron 1676. Died 1707, aged 89. ↩
There is a token of the Pope’s Head tavern in Chancery Lane described in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, by Williamson, 1889, vol. i p. 554. ↩
The name Mary-le-bone has been corrupted from St. Mary-le-bourne, but this is a still further corruption, and an amazing instance of popular etymology. ↩
Sir Sidney Montagu, brother of the first Earl of Manchester, and the father of “my Lord,” had married for his second wife one of the Isham family, of Lamport. ↩
Robin Clerke, Captain of the Speaker, afterwards the Mary. ↩
John Bernard and Nicholas Pedley, reelected in the next Parliament. The latter had been a Commissioner of the Wine Office. Sir Edward Montagu had set up Lord Mandeville, the Earl of Manchester’s eldest son, and Mr. G. Montagu, as candidates. See ante, March 14th. ↩
Sir E. Montagu’s flag was on board the Naseby when he went to the Sound in 1658. ↩
Mr. Hill, who was a neighbour of Pepys’s in Axe Yard, is mentioned again under date August 5th, 1660, when Pepys sat in his pew at St. Margaret’s, Westminster. ↩
Younger brother of Sir Gilbert Pickering, Bart, born 1618, and bred to the law; and in 1681 a resident in Lincoln’s Inn. He married Dorothy, one of the daughters of Sir John Weld of Arnolds, in Edmonton, Middlesex, and died in 1698, s.p.s.; his widow survived till December, 1707. Roger North (Life of Lord Keeper Guildford, 1742, p. 58) has drawn a very unfavourable picture of Edward Pickering, calling him a subtle fellow, a money-hunter, a great trifler, and avaricious, but withal a great pretender to Puritanism, frequenting the Rolls’ Chapel, and most busily writing the sermon in his hat, that he might not be seen. We learn from the same authority that Sir John Cutts of Childerley, having left his aunt, Mrs. Edward Pickering, an estate worth £300 per annum, for ninety-nine years, if she should so long live, her husband, who was the executor, erased from the will the words of reference to her life, with intention to possess himself of the property for the term, absolutely, which fraud being suspected, the question was tried in a court of law, and the jury without hesitation found Pickering the author of the erasure, before the publication of the will. —B. ↩
Edward Montagu, eldest son of Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton, killed in the action in Bergen, 1665. ↩
This is the first mention in the Diary of Admiral (afterwards Sir William) Penn, with whom Pepys was subsequently so particularly intimate. At this time admirals were sometimes styled generals. William Penn was born at Bristol in 1621, of the ancient family of the Penns of Penn Lodge, Wilts. He was Captain at the age of twenty-one; Rear-Admiral of Ireland at twenty-three; Vice-Admiral of England and General in the first Dutch war, at thirty-two. He was subsequently M.P. for Weymouth, Governor of Kingsale, and Vice-Admiral of Munster. He was a highly successful commander, and in 1654 he obtained possession of Jamaica. He was appointed a Commissioner of the Navy in 1660, in which year he was knighted. After the Dutch fight in 1665, where he distinguished himself as second in command under the Duke of York, he took leave of the sea, but continued to act as a Commissioner for the Navy till 1669, when he retired to Wanstead, on account of his bodily infirmities, and dying there, September 16th, 1670, aged forty-nine, was buried in the church of St. Mary Redcliffe, in Bristol, where a monument to his memory was erected. ↩
Gray’s Thurrock, a market town on the Thames, in the county of Essex. ↩
Reformado, “a broken or disbanded officer.” Boyer translates “Officier reformé, a reformado.” See Diary, October 1st, 1660. ↩
John Stokes, or Stoakes, was captain of the Royal James. He died at Portsmouth, February, 1664–65. ↩
Bardsey Isle, in Pwllheli district, Carnarvon. It lies at the northwest extremity of Cardigan Bay, and is famous for oysters, lobsters, and white fish. ↩
“A vessel of the galliot order, equipped with two masts, viz., the main and mizzenmasts, usually from 100 to 250 tons burden. Ketches were principally used as yachts for conveying great personages from one place to another.”
The castles were Walmer, Sandgate, Sandwich, Deale, and Dover. ↩
“A sort of chamber or apartment in a large ship of war, just before the great cabin. The floor of it is formed by the aftmost part of the quarter deck, and the roof of it by the poop: it is generally the habitation of the flag-captain.”
Charles, who succeeded his father as second Earl of Norwich. He had been banished eleven years before by the Parliament for heading an army, and keeping the town of Colchester for the use of the King. At his first coming he went to the Council of State, and had leave to remain in London, provided he did not disturb the peace of the nation. —Rugge’s Diurnal —B. ↩
The Hon. Robert Boyle, youngest son of Richard, first Earl of Cork. ↩
Probably a miswriting for Sir John Boys, the celebrated Royalist commander, who was released from Dover Castle on February 23rd, 1659–60, having been imprisoned for petitioning for a free parliament. ↩
“His Excellency had now dined at nine of the chief Halls; at every Hall there was after dinner a kind of stage-play, and many pretty conceits, and dancing and singing, and many shapes and ghosts, and the like, and all to please Lord Monk.”
The manner of the escape of John Lambert, out of the Tower, on the 11th inst., as related by Rugge:—“That about eight of the clock at night he escaped by a rope tied fast to his window, by which he slid down, and in each hand he had a handkerchief; and six men were ready to receive him, who had a barge to hasten him away. She who made the bed, being privy to his escape, that night, to blind the warder when he came to lock the chamber-door, went to bed, and possessed Colonel Lambert’s place, and put on his nightcap. So, when the said warder came to lock the door, according to his usual manner, he found the curtains drawn, and conceiving it to be Colonel John Lambert, he said, ‘Good night, my Lord.’ To which a seeming voice replied, and prevented all further jealousies. The next morning, on coming to unlock the door, and espying her face, he cried out, ‘In the name of God, Joan, what makes you here? Where is my Lord Lambert?’ She said, ‘He is gone; but I cannot tell whither.’ Whereupon he caused her to rise, and carried her before the officer in the Tower, and [she] was committed to custody. Some said that a lady knit for him a garter of silk, by which he was conveyed down, and that she received £100 for her pains.” —B. ↩
Captain, afterwards Admiral Sir Thomas Teddiman. ↩
The Worcester (formerly the Dunkirk) was a third-rate of forty-eight guns, built at Woolwich in 1651 by Mr. Russell. ↩
John Coppin was captain of the Lambert, afterwards the Henrietta. ↩
Sir Richard Stayner, knighted and made a Vice-Admiral by Cromwell, 1657, and after the Restoration sent to command at Tangier till the Governor arrived. ↩
Sir Edward Montagu afterwards recommended the Duke of York as High Admiral, to give regular and lawful commissions to the Commanders of the Fleet, instead of those which they had received from Sir Edward himself, or from the Rump Parliament.
He had represented Cambridgeshire in the preceding Parliament. ↩
Of Bonnington and Sandwich, Gentleman of the Privy-Chamber to Charles I. He defended Donnington Castle, Berkshire, for the King against Jeremiah Horton, 1644, and received an augmentation to his arms in consequence. ↩
A Major Norwood had been Governor of Dunkirk; and a person of the same name occurs as one of the esquires of the body at the Coronation of Charles II. Richard Norwood of Danes Court, in the Isle of Thanet, see December 1st, 1662. —B. ↩
Brielle, or Den Briel, a seaport town in the province of South Holland. ↩
Pepys’s guess at E. Montagu’s business is confirmed by Clarendon’s account of his employment of him to negotiate with Lord Sandwich on behalf of the King. (History of the Rebellion, book xvi)—Notes and Queries, vol. x p. 3 —M. B. ↩
Allhallows the Great, a church in Upper Thames Street. The old church destroyed in the Great Fire was also known as “Allhallows in the Ropery.” ↩
As trustees for Sir Thomas Gresham, the founder of the Royal Exchange. ↩
“The Blacksmith” was the same tune as “Green Sleeves.” The earliest known copy of “The Praise of the Blacksmith” is in “An Antidote against Melancholy,” 1661. See Roxburghe Ballads, ed. W. Chappell, 1872, vol. ii p. 126. (Ballad Society.) ↩
The London was a second-rate of sixty-four guns, built at Chatham in 1657 by Captain Taylor. ↩
Colonel Richard Ingoldsby had been Governor of Oxford under his kinsman Cromwell. He signed the warrant for the execution of Charles I, but was pardoned for the service here mentioned, and made K.B. at the Coronation of Charles II. He afterwards retired to his seat at Lethenborough, Bucks, and died 1685. He was buried in the church of Hartwell, near Aylesbury. ↩
Edward, second Earl of Manchester, whose father, Henry, first earl, had been chosen Speaker of the House of Lords in 1641. ↩
Ancestor of the Earls of Verulam. He was made Master of the Rolls, November following. Born 1594, and died December 31st, 1683. ↩
The King arrived at Breda on the 14th April. Sir W. Lower writes (Voyage and Residence of Charles II in Holland, p. 5): “Many considerations obliged him to depart the territories under the obedience of the King of Spain in this conjuncture of affairs.” ↩
As there were several of this name it is impossible to say which Mr. Pett is meant. ↩
In 1656 was published “The Yellow Book, or a serious letter sent by a private Christian to the Lady Consideration the first of May 1656, which she is desired to communicate in Hide Park to the Gallants of the Times a little after sunset. Also a brief account of the names of some vain persons that intend to be there.” ↩
The Nonsuch was a fourth-rate of thirty-two guns, built at Deptford in 1646 by Peter Pett, jun. The captain was John Parker. ↩
Captain Henry Cuttance, of the Cheriton, afterwards the Speedwell. ↩
“His Majesty added thereunto an excellent Declaration for the safety and repose of those, who tortured in their consciences, for having partaken in the rebellion, might fear the punishment of it, and in that fear might oppose the tranquillity of the Estate, and the calling in of their lawful Prince. It is printed and published as well as the letter, but that shall not hinder me to say, that there was never seen a more perfect assemblage of all the most excellent natural qualities, and of all the venues, as well Royal as Christian, wherewith a great Prince may be endowed, than was found in those two wonderful productions.”
Sir William Lower’s Relation … of the Voyage and Residence which … Charles II hath made in Holland, Hague, 1660, folio, p. 3
Of Pickering Lyth, in Yorkshire, M.P. for Scarborough; discharged from sitting in the House of Commons, July 21st, 1660. ↩
Created Earl of Bath, 1661; son of Sir Bevil Grenville, killed at the battle of Lansdowne; he was, when a boy, left for dead on the field at the second battle of Newbury, and said to have been the only person entrusted by Charles II and Monk in bringing about the Restoration. ↩
“The picture of King Charles II was often set up in houses, without the least molestation, whereas a while ago, it was almost a hanging matter so to do; but now the Rump Parliament was so hated and jeered at, that the butchers’ boys would say, ‘Will you buy any Parliament rumps and kidneys?’ And it was a very ordinary thing to see little children make a fire in the streets, and burn rumps.”
Charles, eldest son of Dudley, afterwards fourth Lord North. On the death of his father in 1677 he became fifth Lord North. ↩
“King Charles II his Declaration to all his loving Subjects of the Kingdome of England, dated from his Court at Breda in Holland 4/14 of April, 1660, and read in Parliament with his Majesties Letter of the same date to his Excellence the Ld. Gen. Monck to be communicated to the Ld. President of the Council of State and to the Officers of the Army under his Command. London, Printed by W. Godbid for John Playford in the Temple, 1660.” 40, pp. 8. ↩
John Hayward was captain of the Plymouth. Thomas Binns commanded the Essex. ↩
When only seventeen years old, Montagu had married Jemima, daughter of John Crew, created afterwards Baron Crew of Stene. ↩
See the letter printed in Lister’s Life of Lord Clarendon, vol. iii p. 404. It is dated 4th May. ↩
Philip, fifth Earl of Pembroke, and second Earl of Montgomery, died 1669. Clarendon says, “This young earl’s affections were entire for his Majesty.” ↩
William, second Earl of Salisbury. After Cromwell had put down the House of Peers, he was chosen a member of the House of Commons, and sat with them. Died 1668. ↩
Thomas Clarges, physician to the army, created a baronet, 1674, died 1695. He had been previously knighted; his sister Anne married General Monk.
“The Parliament also permitted General Monk to send Mr. Clarges, his brother-in-law, accompanied with some officers of the army, to assure his Majesty of the fidelity and obedience of the army, which had made public and solemn protestations thereof, after the Letter and Declaration was communicated unto them by the General.”
Sir William Lower’s Relation … of the Voyage and Residence which … Charles II hath made in Holland, Hague, 1660, folio
Third son of Spencer, Earl of Northampton, a Privy Councillor and Master of the Ordnance, ob. 1663, aged 39. When only eighteen years of age, he had charged with his gallant father at the battle of Edgehill. His mother was first cousin to George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and to John Ashburnham; and his great uncle, Sir Thomas Compton, had been the third husband of the Duke’s mother, Mary, Countess of Buckingham. —B. ↩
Waistcloths are the painted canvas coverings of the hammocks which are stowed in the waist-nettings. ↩
A set or company of musicians, an expression constantly used by old writers without any disparaging meaning. It is sometimes applied to voices as well as to instruments. ↩
Henry, eldest son of Lord Bellasis, made K.B. at Charles II’s coronation. ↩
Sir Thomas Leventhorpe, Bart., married Mary, daughter of Sir Capell Bedell, Bart. Died 1671. ↩
Colonel, afterwards Sir Philip Honywood, son of Robert Honywood of Charing, Kent. ↩
Colonel Silas Titus, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Charles II, author of Killing No Murder. ↩
The jurats of the Cinque Ports answered to the aldermen of other towns. ↩
Sir Peter Killigrew, Knight, of Arwenack, Cornwall, was known as “Peter the Post,” from the alacrity with which he despatched “like wild fire” all the messages and other commissions entrusted to him in the King’s cause. His son Peter, who succeeded his uncle as second baronet in 1665, was M.P. for Camelford in 1660. ↩
Afterwards Sir William Sanderson, gentleman of the chamber, author of the History of Mary Queen of Scots, James I, and Charles I His wife, Dame Bridget, was mother of the maids. ↩
Heneage Finch, second Earl of Winchelsea, constituted by General Monk Governor of Dover Castle, July, 1660; made Lord Lieutenant of Kent, and afterwards ambassador to Turkey. Died 1689. ↩
Sir Edward Montagu’s eldest son, afterwards second Earl of Sandwich, called by Pepys “The child.” ↩
John Maitland, second Earl, and afterwards created Marquis of March, Duke of Lauderdale, and Earl of Guilford (in England), and K.G. He became sole Secretary of State for Scotland in 1661, and was a Gentleman of his Majesty’s Bedchamber, and died in 1682, s.p. —B. ↩
“Ordered that General Montagu do observe the command of His Majesty for the disposing of the fleet, in order to His Majesty’s returning home to England to his kingly government: and that all proceedings in law be in His Majesty’s name.”
Mr. Pitts was secretary to Sir J. Lawson, Vice-Admiral. ↩
“Ordered that General Montagu do observe the command of His Majesty for the disposing of the fleet, in order to His Majesty’s returning home to England to his kingly government: and that all proceedings in law be in His Majesty’s name.”
Timothy Clarke, M. D., one of the original Fellows of the Royal Society. He was appointed one of the physicians in ordinary to Charles II on the death of Dr. Quartermaine in 1667. ↩
John, fourteenth Earl of Crauford, restored in 1661 to the office of High Treasurer of Scotland, which he had held eight years under Charles I. —B. ↩
William, Lord Cavendish, afterwards fourth Earl and first Duke of Devonshire. ↩
Robert and Edward Bertie, two of the surviving sons of Robert, first Earl of Lindsay, killed at Edgehill. Their mother was Elizabeth, only child of Edward, first Lord Montagu of Boughton; they were, therefore, nearly connected with Sir E. Montagu, and with Pepys, in some degree. —B. ↩
Probably Thomas Dalmahoy, who had married the Duchess Dowager of Hamilton: see (infra) Speaker Onslow’s note to Burnet. The husband of the loyal Duchess would be naturally one of the first to welcome the King; and Onslow says he was in the interest of the Duke of York:
“Lord Middleton retired, after his disgrace, to the Friary, near Guildford, to one Dalmahoy there, a genteel, generous man, who was of Scotland: had been Gentleman of the Horse to William Duke of Hamilton (killed at the battle of Worcester); married that Duke’s widow; and by her had this house, etc. This man, Dalmahoy, being much in the interest of the Duke of York, and a man to be relied upon, and long a candidate for the town of Guildford, at the election of the Parliament after the Long one, in 1678, and being opposed, I think, by the famous Algernon Sidney, the Duke of York came from Windsor to Dalmahoy’s house, to countenance his election, and appeared for him in the open court, when the election was taken.”
The Lark carried ten guns and forty men. Its captain was Thomas Levidge. ↩
Samuel Morland, son of the Rev. Thomas Morland, of Sulhamstead Banister, near Reading, Berks, was born about 1625. He was educated at Winchester School, whence he removed to Magdalene College, Cambridge; admitted to a scholarship, July 8th, 1645; to a quinquennial fellowship, November 30th, 1649; and to a foundation fellowship, September 24th, 1651. One of the fellows who signed Pepys’s admission entry, October 1st, 1650. He became afterwards one of Thurloe’s undersecretaries, and was employed in several embassies, particularly to the Vaudois, by Cromwell, whose interests he betrayed, by secretly communicating with Charles II. He published in 1658, in a folio volume, his History of the Evangelical Churches of the Valleys of Piemont. He was knighted at Breda, and afterwards created a baronet. He was an ingenious mechanic, and made some improvements in the steam engine. At the Restoration he was made Master of Mechanics to Charles II, who presented him with a medal as an “honourable badge of his signal loyalty.” He subsequently received a pension of £400, but he sold it for ready money. He died December 30th, 1695, and was buried in Hammersmith church on the 6th of the following January. His MSS. are at Cambridge, in the Public Library.
“We think to relate here, as a thing most remarkable that the same day Mr. Moorland, Chief Commissioner under Mr. Thurlo, who was Secretary of Estate under Oliver Cromwell, his chief and most confident minister of his tyranny, arrived at Breda, where he brought divers letters and notes of most great importance, forasmuch as the King discovered there a part of the intricate plots of the interreign, and likewise the perfidiousness of some of those who owed him, without doubt, the greatest fidelity of the world. The King received him perfectly well, made him knight, and rendred him this public testimony, that he had received most considerable services from him for some years past.”
Sir William Lower’s Relation … of the Voyage and Residence which … Charles II hath made in Holland, Hague, 1660, folio
In May, 1658, the old Union Jack (being the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew combined) was revived, with the Irish harp over the centre of the flag. This harp was taken off at the Restoration. (See The National Flags of the Commonwealth, by H. W. Henfrey, Journ. Brit. Arch. Assoc., vol. xxxi, p. 54.) The sign of the “Commonwealth Arms” was an uncommon one, but a token of one exists—“Francis Wood at ye Commonwealth arms in Mary Maudlens” [St. Mary Magdalen, Old Fish Street]. ↩
“A sort of cabin or cook-room, generally in the forepart, but sometimes near the stern of lighters and barges of burden.”
Elizabeth, daughter of James I and widow of Frederick, Elector Palatine and titular King of Bohemia. She was known as the “Queen of Hearts” and the “White Queen.” She is supposed to have married Lord Craven, and died February 12th, 1661–63. ↩
Son of the Prince of Orange and Mary, eldest daughter of Charles I—afterwards William III. He was then in his tenth year, having been born in 1650. ↩
Index Rhetoricus of Thomas Farnaby was a book which went through several editions. The first was published at London by R. Allot in 1633. ↩
Thomas Case, born 1598, was a famous preacher and a zealous advocate for the Solemn League and Covenant, a member of the assembly of divines, and rector of St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields. He was one of the deputation to Charles II at Breda, and appointed a royal chaplain. He was ejected by the Act of Uniformity, but remained in London after his ejection. Died May 30th, 1682. ↩
This is somewhat different to the usual account of Morland’s connection with Sir Richard Willis. In the beginning of 1659 Cromwell, Thurloe, and Willis formed a plot to inveigle Charles II into England and into the hands of his enemies. The plot was discussed in Thurloe’s office, and Morland, who pretended to be asleep, heard it and discovered it. Willis sent for Morland, and received him in a cellar. He said that one of them must have discovered the plot. He laid his hand upon the Bible and swore that he had not been the discoverer, calling upon Morland to do the same. Morland, with presence of mind, said he was ready to do so if Willis would give him a reason why he should suspect him. By this ready answer he is said to have escaped the ordeal (see Birch’s Life of Thurloe). ↩
The admiral celebrated in Lord Dorset’s ballad, “To all you ladies now at land.”
“Should foggy Opdam chance to know Our sad and dismal story; The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, And quit their fort at Goree For what resistance can they find From men who’ve left their hearts behind?”
Peter Pett succeeded his father, Phineas Pett, as Commissioner of the Navy at Chatham, in 1647; he was continued in his office after the Restoration, but in 1667, in consequence of the Dutch attack upon Chatham, he was superseded, sent to the Tower, and threatened with impeachment. The threat was not carried out, but he was never restored to office. Fuller observes that the mystery of shipwrights for some descents hath been preserved successively in families, “of which the Pettes of Chatham are of singular regard.” —Worthies of England. There is an interesting autobiographical memoir of Phineas Pett, in his own handwriting, in the British Museum (Harl. MS. 6279). Extracts from a copy of this MS. were printed in the Archæologia (vol. xii). ↩
Eldest son of Sir Gilbert Pickering, whom he succeeded in his titles and estates in 1668. His father had been an active Commonwealth man, and was one of the knights of the shire for the county of Northampton in 1656; he was also of Cromwell’s council, chamberlain of the court, and high steward of Westminster. Sir Gilbert Pickering’s petition being read, he was ordered to be excepted as to the penalties to be inflicted not reaching to life, by an act provided for that purpose. —Commons’ Journals; see June 19th, 1660. —B. ↩
Andrew Marvell alludes to the poor condition, for clothes and money, in which the King was at this time, in A Historical Poem:—
“At length, by wonderful impulse of fate, The people call him back to help the State; And what is more, they send him money, too, And clothe him all from head to foot anew.”
On January 29th, 1658, Charles II entrusted the Great Seal to Sir Edward Hyde, with the title of Lord Chancellor, and in that character Sir Edward accompanied the King to England. ↩
Thomas Fuller, born June, 1608; D.D. 1660; one of the most delightful writers in the English language; Chaplain to the King, Lecturer at the Savoy, Prebendary of Salisbury and Rector of Cranford. He died at his lodgings in Covent Garden, August 16th, 1661, and was buried at Cranford. ↩
The House in the Wood (Huis ten Bosch) at the Hague is still a show place, and the picture described by Pepys can still be seen in the Oranje Zaal (Orange Hall). The hall was built by a Princess of Solms, grandmother of our William III, and decorated with paintings in honour of her husband, Prince Frederick Henry of Orange. ↩
Mary, Princess Royal, eldest daughter of Charles I, and widow of William of Nassau, Prince of Orange. She was not supposed to be inconsolable, and scandal followed her at the court of Charles II, where she died of smallpox, December 24th, 1660. ↩
The Voorhout is the principal street of the Hague, and it is lined with handsome trees. ↩
The trekschuit (drag-boat) along the canal is still described as an agreeable conveyance from Leyden to Delft. ↩
Admiral Martin van Tromp’s monument here described is in the Oude Kerk (Old Church) at Delft. ↩
The costly but clumsy monument erected by the United Provinces to the memory of William I, Prince of Orange (who was assassinated at Delft, 10th July, 1584), is in the so-called New Church at Delft. ↩
The Stadhuis is a fine building situated in the marketplace. ↩
Afterwards Colonel Edward Harley, M.P. for Hereford, and Governor of Dunkirk; ancestor of the Earls of Oxford of that race, now extinct in the male line. He was afterwards made a Knight of the Bath at the Coronation of Charles II. ↩
Edmond Ibbott, made rector of Deale in 1662. See ante, March 25th. ↩
Crambo is described as “a play at short verses in which a word is given, and the parties contend who can find most rhymes to it.” ↩
There were several Pickerings, and it is not easy to say which of them Pepys would style “uncle.” ↩
Month’s-mind. An earnest desire or longing, explained as alluding to “a woman’s longing.” See Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, act i sc. 2: “I see you have a month’s mind to them.” —M. B. ↩
This is a somewhat late use of an expression which was once universal. It was formerly the custom for both sexes to sleep in bed without any nightlinen.
“Who sees his true love in her naked bed, Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white.”
Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis
Nares (Glossary) notes the expression so late as in the very odd novel by T. Amory, called John Bunde, where a young lady declares, after an alarm, “that she would never go into naked bed on board ship again.” Octavo edition, vol. i p. 90. ↩
Apparently Mallows stands for St. Malo and Murlace for Morlaise. ↩
Sir John Lenthall, who survived till 1681, was the only son of Speaker Lenthall, and Cromwell’s Governor of Windsor Castle. He had been knighted by the Protector in 1657; but is styled “Mr. Lenthall” in the Commons’ Journals of the House, May 12th, 1660, where the proceedings alluded to by Pepys are fully detailed. Mrs. Hutchinson also gives an account of them, in her Memoirs of Colonel Hutchinson, p. 367, 4to edit. On the 22nd of May following, Lenthall lost his seat for Abingdon, the double return for that borough having been decided in favour of Sir John Stonehouse; probably the then recent offence which Lenthall had given to the House of Commons had more influence in the adverse issue of the petition than the actual merits of the case. Sir John Lenthall, of whom Pepys speaks, August 10th, 1663, was the brother to the Speaker. See that passage. —B. ↩
Henry, Duke of Gloucester, the youngest child of Charles I, born July 6th, 1640, who, with his sister Elizabeth, was allowed a meeting with his father on the night before the King’s execution. Burnet says: “He was active, and loved business; was apt to have particular friendships, and had an insinuating temper which was generally very acceptable. The King loved him much better than the Duke of York.” He died of smallpox at Whitehall, September 13th, 1660, and was buried in Henry VII’s Chapel. ↩
William Coventry, to whom Pepys became so warmly attached afterwards, was the fourth son of Thomas, first Lord Coventry, the Lord Keeper. He was born in 1628, and entered at Queen’s College, Oxford, in 1642; after the Restoration he became private secretary to the Duke of York, his commission as Secretary to the Lord High Admiral not being conferred until 1664; elected M.P. for Great Yarmouth in 1661. In 1662 he was appointed an extra Commissioner of the Navy, an office he held until 1667; in 1665, knighted and sworn a Privy Councillor, and, in 1667, constituted a Commissioner of the Treasury; but, having been forbid the court on account of his challenging the Duke of Buckingham, he retired into the country, nor could he subsequently be prevailed upon to accept of any official employment. Burnet calls Sir William Coventry the best speaker in the House of Commons, and “a man of the finest and best temper that belonged to the court,” and Pepys never omits an opportunity of paying a tribute to his public and private worth. He died, 1686, of gout in the stomach. ↩
“About midnight arrived there Mr. Downing, who did the affairs of England to the Lords the Estates, in quality of Resident under Oliver Cromwell, and afterward under the pretended Parliament, which having changed the form of the government, after having cast forth the last Protector, had continued him in his imploiment, under the quality of Extraordinary Envoy. He began to have respect for the King’s person, when he knew that all England declared for a free parliament, and departed from Holland without order, as soon as he understood that there was nothing that could longer oppose the reestablishment of monarchal government, with a design to crave letters of recommendation to General Monk. This lord considered him, as well because of the birth of his wife, which is illustrious, as because Downing had expressed some respect for him in a time when that eminent person could not yet discover his intentions. He had his letters when he arrived at midnight at the house of the Spanish Embassador, as we have said. He presented them forthwith to the King, who arose from table a while after, read the letters, receiv’d the submissions of Downing, and granted him the pardon and grace which he asked for him to whom he could deny nothing. Some daies after the King knighted him, and would it should be believed, that the strong aversions which this minister of the Protector had made appear against him on all occasions, and with all sorts of persons indifferently, even a few daies before the public and general declaration of all England, proceeded not from any evil intention, but only from a deep dissimulation, wherewith he was constrained to cover his true sentiments, for fear to prejudice the affairs of his Majesty.”
Sir William Lower’s Relation … of the Voyage and Residence which … Charles II hath made in Holland, Hague, 1660, folio, pp. 72–73
Otte Krag was one of the two extraordinary ambassadors from the King of Denmark to Charles II at the Hague. See Lower’s Voyage and Residence of Charles II in Holland, 1660, p. 41. ↩
William Quartermaine, M.D., matriculated as member of Brasenose College, Oxford, and afterwards removed to Pembroke College. He was appointed one of the physicians in ordinary to Charles II, and died in June, 1667. ↩
Marmaduke, fifth son of Conyers, Lord Darcy, one of the companions of Charles’s exile, whom the King was wont to call “ ’Duke Darcey,” and he is so styled in Charles’s narrative of his escape, as given to Pepys. On the pavement in the south aisle of St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, is the following inscription:
“Here lyeth the body of the Honourable Marmaduke Darcy, Esq., brother to the Earl of Holderness, first gentleman usher of the privy-chamber to His Majesty, who died in this castle on Sunday, the 3rd of July, in the seventy-third year of his age, A.D. 1687.”
“The Naseby now no longer England’s shame, But better to be lost in Charles his name.”
Dryden, Astræa Redux
Another Charles was built at Deptford in 1667 by Jo. Shish. ↩
The Richard was a second-rate of seventy guns, built at Woolwich in 1658 by Christopher Pett. ↩
The Speaker was a third-rate of fifty-two guns, built at Woolwich in 1649 by Christopher Pett. ↩
The Henry then Dunbar, was a second-rate of sixty-four guns, built at Deptford in 1656 by Mr. Callis. ↩
The Happy Return, then the Winsley, was built at Yarmouth in 1654 by Edgar; it was a fourth-rate of forty-six guns. ↩
The Richmond, then the Wakefield, was built at Portsmouth in 1655 by Sir J. Tippets; it was a fifth-rate of twenty-six guns. ↩
The Henrietta, then the Lambert, was built at Horslydown in 1653–4 by Bright; it was a third-rate of fifty guns. ↩
The Speedwell, then the Cheriton, was a fifth-rate of twenty guns, built at Deptford in 1655 by Mr. Callis. ↩
The Success, then the Bradford, was a fifth-rate built at Chatham in 1657 by Captain Taylor. ↩
For the King’s own account of his escape dictated to Pepys, see “Boscobel” (Bohn’s “Standard Library”). ↩
This was at Brighton. The inn was the “George,” and the innkeeper was named Smith. Charles related this circumstance again to Pepys in October, 1680. He then said, “And here also I ran into another very great danger, as being confident I was known by the master of the inn; for, as I was standing after supper by the fireside, leaning my hand upon a chair, and all the rest of the company being gone into another room, the master of the inn came in and fell a-talking with me, and just as he was looking about, and saw there was nobody in the room, he upon a sudden kissed my hand that was upon the back of the chair, and said to me, ‘God bless you wheresoever you go! I do not doubt before I die, but to be a lord, and my wife a lady.’ So I laughed, and went away into the next room.” ↩
On Saturday, October 11th, 1651, Colonel Gunter made an agreement at Chichester with Nicholas Tettersell, through Francis Mansell (a French merchant), to have Tettersell’s vessel ready at an hour’s warning. Charles II, in his narrative dictated to Pepys in 1680, said, “We went to a place, four miles off Shoreham, called Brighthelmstone, where we were to meet with the master of the ship, as thinking it more convenient to meet there than just at Shoreham, where the ship was. So when we came to the inn at Brighthelmstone we met with one, the merchant [Francis Mansell] who had hired the vessel, in company with her master [Tettersell], the merchant only knowing me, as having hired her only to carry over a person of quality that was escaped from the battle of Worcester without naming anybody.”
The boat was supposed to be bound for Poole, but Charles says in his narrative: “As we were sailing the master came to me, and desired me that I would persuade his men to use their best endeavours with him to get him to set us on shore in France, the better to cover him from any suspicion thereof, upon which I went to the men, which were four and a boy.”
After the Restoration Mansell was granted a pension of £200 a year, and Tettersell one of £100 a year. (See Captain Nicholas Tettersell and the Escape of Charles II, by F. E. Sawyer, F.S.A., Sussex Archaeological Collections, vol. xxxii pp. 81–104). ↩
A mistake for Lord Berkeley of Berkeley, who had been deputed, with Lord Middlesex and four other Peers, by the House of Lords to present an address of congratulation to the King. —B. ↩
Lionel Cranfield, third and last Earl of Middlesex. Died 1674, when the title became extinct. ↩
Canons, canions, or cannions. Thus defined in Kersey’s Dictionary: “Cannions, boot hose tops; an old-fashioned ornament for the legs.” That is to say, a particular addition to breeches. Coles says, “Cannions, Perizomata.” Cotgrave, “Canons de chausses.” Minshew says, “On les appelle ainsi pourceque, etc., because they are like cannons of artillery, or cans, or pots.”
John Earle, born about 1601; appointed in 1643 one of the Westminster Assembly of Divines, but his principles did not allow him to act. He accompanied Charles II when he was obliged to fly from England. Dean of Westminster at the Restoration, Bishop of Worcester, November 30th, 1662, and translated to Salisbury, September 28th, 1663. He was tender to the Nonconformists, and Baxter wrote of him, “O that they were all such!” Author of Microcosmography. Died November 17th, 1665, and was buried in the chapel of Merton College, of which he had been a Fellow. Charles II had the highest esteem for him. ↩
Denzil Holles, second son of John, first Earl of Clare, born at Houghton, Notts, in 1597. He was one of the five members charged with high treason by Charles I in 1641. He was a Presbyterian, and one of the Commissioners sent by Parliament to wait on Charles II at the Hague. Sir William Lower, in his Relation, 1660, writes: “All agreed that never person spake with more affection nor expressed himself in better terms than Mr. Denzil Hollis, who was orator for the Deputies of the Lower House, to whom those of London were joined.” He was created Baron Holles on April 20th, 1661, on the occasion of the coronation of Charles II↩
Charles Scarburgh, M.D., an eminent physician who suffered for the royal cause during the Civil Wars. He was born in London, and educated at St. Paul’s School and Caius College, Cambridge. He was ejected from his fellowship at Caius, and withdrew to Oxford. He entered himself at Merton College, then presided over by Harvey, with whom he formed a lifelong friendship. He was knighted by Charles II in 1669, and attended the King in his last illness. He was also physician to James II and to William III, and died February 26th, 1693–4. ↩
Stephen Fox, born 1627, and said to have been a choirboy in Salisbury Cathedral. He was the first person to announce the death of Cromwell to Charles II, and at the Restoration he was made Clerk of the Green Cloth, and afterwards Paymaster of the Forces. He was knighted in 1665. He married Elizabeth, daughter of William Whittle of Lancashire. (See June 25th, 1660.) Fox died in 1716. His sons Stephen and Henry were created respectively Earl of Ilchester and Lord Holland. ↩
Thomas Killigrew, fourth son of Sir Robert Killigrew of Hanworth, Middlesex, page of honour to Charles I, and groom of the bedchamber to Charles II, whose fortunes he had followed. He was Resident for the King at Venice, 1650; a great favourite with his master on account of his uncommon vein of humour, and author of several plays. He was born in the parish of St. Margaret, Lothbury, February 7th, 1611–12, and died March, 1682–3, being buried in Westminster Abbey. He married twice: 1, June 29th, 1636, Cicely, daughter of Sir James Crofts of Saxham, co. Suffolk, maid of honour to Queen Henrietta Maria (she died January 1st, 1637–8); 2, January 28th, 1654–5, Charlotte, daughter of John de Hesse (she died at the Hague in 1716). ↩
This right of purveyance was abolished in Charles’s reign. ↩
Charles II’s love of dogs is well known, but it is not so well known that his dogs were continually being stolen from him. In the Mercurius Publicus, June 28-July 5, 1660, is the following advertisement, apparently drawn up by the King himself: “We must call upon you again for a Black Dog between a greyhound and a spaniel, no white about him, onely a streak on his brest, and his tayl a little bobbed. It is His Majesties own Dog, and doubtless was stoln, for the dog was not born nor bred in England, and would never forsake His master. Whoesoever findes him may acquaint any at Whitehal for the Dog was better known at Court, than those who stole him. Will they never leave robbing his Majesty! Must he not keep a Dog? This dog’s place (though better than some imagine) is the only place which nobody offers to beg.” (Quoted in Notes and Queries, 7th S., vii 26, where are printed two other advertisements of Charles’s lost dogs.) ↩
Clarendon describes William Batten as an obscure fellow, and, although unknown to the service, a good seaman, who was in 1642 made Surveyor to the Navy; in which employ he evinced great animosity against the King. The following year, while Vice-Admiral to the Earl of Warwick, he chased a Dutch man-of-war into Burlington Bay, knowing that Queen Henrietta Maria was on board; and then, learning that she had landed and was lodged on the quay, he fired above a hundred shot upon the house, some of which passing through her majesty’s chamber, she was obliged, though indisposed, to retire for safety into the open fields. This act, brutal as it was, found favour with the Parliament. But Batten became afterwards discontented; and, when a portion of the fleet revolted, he carried the Constant Warwick, one of the best ships in the Parliament navy, over into Holland, with several seamen of note. For this act of treachery he was knighted and made a Rear-Admiral by Prince Charles. We hear no more of Batten till the Restoration, when he became a Commissioner of the Navy, and was soon after M.P. for Rochester. See an account of his second wife, in note to November 24th, 1660, and of his illness and death, October 5th, 1667. He had a son, Benjamin, and a daughter, Martha, by his first wife. —B. ↩
Edward Walker was knighted February 2nd, 1644–5, and on the 24th of the same month was sworn in as Garter King at Arms. He adhered to the cause of the king, and published Iter Carolinum, being a succinct account of the necessitated marches, retreats, and sufferings of his Majesty King Charles I, from Jan. 10, 1641, to the time of his death in 1648, collected by a daily attendant upon his sacred Majesty during all that time: He joined Charles II in exile, and received the reward of his loyalty at the Restoration. He died at Whitehall, February 19th, 1676–7, and was buried at Stratford-on-Avon, his daughter having married Sir John Clepton of that place. ↩
“His Majesty put the George on his Excellency, and the two Dukes put on the Garter. The Princes thus honoured the Lord-General for the restoration of that lawful family.”
The gold ducat is valued at about 9s. 6d., and the silver at 3s. 4d. ↩
The spire of St. Paul’s (which was 208 feet high) was injured by fire in 1561, and taken down soon afterwards. The height of the remaining tower was 285 feet. ↩
Probably a book on St. Paul’s in the possession of Mr. Shepley. ↩
“Divers maidens, in behalf of themselves and others, presented a petition to the Lord Mayor of London, wherein they pray his Lordship to grant them leave and liberty to meet His Majesty on the day of his passing through the city; and if their petition be granted, that they will all be clad in white waistcoats and crimson petticoats, and other ornaments of triumph and rejoicing.”
Probably Henry Lawes, although nothing is known of this song. The late Dr. Hueffer wrote, “Mr. R. Lane Poole, of the musical department of the British Museum, informs me that he has in vain searched for it amongst the MS. and printed collections of the Museum.” —Hueffer’s Italian and Other Studies, 1883, p. 290 ↩
Foreign coins were in frequent use at this time. A Proclamation, January 29th, 1660–61, declared certain foreign gold and silver coins to be current at certain rates. The rate of the ducatoon was at 5s. 9d. ↩
12 Car. II cap. 14, “An Act for a perpetual Anniversary Thanksgiving on the nine-and-twentieth day of May.” ↩
One only of these two was elected, for Bullen Reymes became M.P. for Weymouth on June 22nd. ↩
The King’s “Proclamation against vicious, debauched, and profane Persons” is dated May 30th. It is printed in Somers’ Tracts, ed. 1812, vol. vii p. 423. ↩
“Help, Help, O Help, Divinity of Love,” by Henry Lawes, printed in The Second Book of Ayres and Dialogues. London (Playford), 1655. It is entitled “A Storme.” ↩
Cittern (cither), a musical instrument having wire strings, sounded with a plectrum. ↩
In the Notices of Popular Histories, printed for the Percy Society, there is a curious woodcut representing the interior of a barber’s shop, in which, according to the old custom, the person waiting to be shaved is playing on the “ghittern” till his turn arrives. Decker also mentions a “barber’s cittern,” for every serving-man to play upon. This is no doubt “the barber’s music” with which Lord Sandwich entertained himself. —B. ↩
Robert Pepys of Brampton, eldest son of Thomas Pepys the red, and brother of Samuel’s father. ↩
Edmund Calamy, D.D., the celebrated Nonconformist divine, born February, 1600, appointed Chaplain to Charles II, 1660. He refused the bishopric of Lichfield which was offered to him. Died October 29th, 1666. ↩
The names of the Commissioners were—Sir Edward Hyde, afterwards Earl of Clarendon, General Monk, Thomas, Earl of Southampton, John, Lord Robartes, Thomas, Lord Colepeper, Sir Edward Montagu, with Sir Edward Nicholas and Sir William Morrice as principal Secretaries of State. The patents are dated June 19th, 1660. ↩
The duty of the Master of the Wardrobe was to provide “proper furniture for coronations, marriages, and funerals” of the sovereign and royal family, “clothes of state, beds, hangings, and other necessaries for the houses of foreign ambassadors, clothes of state for Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Prince of Wales, and ambassadors abroad,” as also to provide robes for Ministers of State, Knights of the Garter, etc. The last Master of the Wardrobe was Ralph, Duke of Montague, who died 1709. ↩
Epicene, or the Silent Woman, a comedy, by Ben Jonson. ↩
Arthur Annesley, afterwards second Viscount Valentia, born July 10th, 1614. He had been chosen President of the Council of State in February, 1660. He was a Parliamentarian as long as that cause was in the ascendant, but was instrumental in the restoration of Charles II, for which service he was amply rewarded. He was Treasurer of the Navy from 1666 to 1668, and held the office of Lord Privy Seal from 1672 to 1682. Created Earl of Anglesea, 1661. He wrote several books, and died April 26th, 1686. ↩
Lincoln’s Inn Gardens were originally known as Coneygarth, from the rabbits which burrowed there. Ben Jonson mentions them:
Dorset House, in Salisbury Court, Fleet Street, at this time occupied by the Chancellor, once the residence of the Bishops of Salisbury, one of whom (Jewel) alienated it to the Sackville family. The house being afterwards pulled down, a theatre was built on its site, in which the Duke of York’s troop performed. The name is still preserved in Dorset Street. ↩
William Faithorne the elder, engraver and portrait painter, born in London in 1616. On the outbreak of the Civil War he took up arms for the King, and was confined for a time in Aldersgate as a prisoner of war. He was banished for refusing to take the oath to Oliver Cromwell, but obtained permission to return to England in 1650, when he settled at the sign of the Drake, outside Temple Bar. About 1680 he went to Printing House Yard, Blackfriars, and died May, 1691. ↩
Sir George Carteret had been appointed Treasurer of the Navy at the Restoration in succession to Richard Hutchinson. See post, July 3rd, 1660. ↩
It was customary to use carpets as table cloths. ↩
Elizabeth Montagu, sister to the Earl of Sandwich, who had married Sir Gilbert Pickering, Bart., of Nova Scotia, and of Tichmersh, co. Northampton. ↩
There was another Bull Head at Charing Cross. There were several Brewer’s Yards in London, but this was probably the one on the south side of the Strand, near Hungerford Market; and the Bull Head tavern was doubtless the one at Charing Cross. ↩
The house attached to the office of the Master of the Wardrobe was near Puddle Wharf, Blackfriars. It was built by Sir John Beauchamp (d. 1359), and his executors sold it to Edward III. When Stow drew up his Survey, Sir John Fortescue was lodged in the house as Master of the Wardrobe. ↩
Afterwards Sir Robert Holmes. He is styled “Major,” although in the navy. Thus Lord Sandwich and Sir W. Penn were called “Generals;” see also January 6th, 1661–2. ↩
All organs were removed from churches by an ordinance dated 1644. ↩
At the King’s Head there was a half-crown ordinary. ↩
William Swan is called a fanatic and a very rogue in other parts of the Diary. ↩
Roger Boyle, fifth son of Richard, Earl of Cork, born April 25th, 1621 and at the age of seven created Lord Broghill. He was created Earl of Orrery in 1660. Died October 16th, 1679. ↩
Colonel John Jones was M.P. for the City of London in the Parliament summoned to meet May 8th, 1661. ↩
A sweet drink which still survives in pharmacy, and the name is used in the United States for a special drink called mint julep. ↩
Anne Clarges, Lady Monk, and Duchess of Albemarle. ↩
This ceremony is usually traced to Edward the Confessor, but there is no direct evidence of the early Norman kings having touched for the evil. Sir John Fortescue, in his defence of the House of Lancaster against that of York, argued that the crown could not descend to a female, because the Queen is not qualified by the form of anointing her, used at the coronation, to cure the disease called the King’s evil. Burn asserts, History of Parish Registers, 1862, p. 179, that “between 1660 and 1682, 92,107 persons were touched for the evil.” Everyone coming to the court for that purpose, brought a certificate signed by the minister and churchwardens, that he had not at any time been touched by His Majesty. The practice was supposed to have expired with the Stuarts, but the point being disputed, reference was made to the library of the Duke of Sussex, and four several Oxford editions of the Book of Common Prayer were found, all printed after the accession of the house of Hanover, and all containing, as an integral part of the service, “The Office for the Healing.” The stamp of gold with which the King crossed the sore of the sick person was called an angel, and of the value of ten shillings. It had a hole bored through it, through which a ribbon was drawn, and the angel was hanged about the patient’s neck till the cure was perfected. The stamp has the impression of St. Michael the Archangel on one side, and a ship in full sail on the other. “My Lord Anglesey had a daughter cured of the King’s evil with three others on Tuesday.” —MS. Letter of William Greenhill to Lady Bacon, dated December 31st, 1629, preserved at Audley End. Charles II “touched” before he came to the throne. “It is certain that the King hath very often touched the sick, as well at Breda, where he touched 260 from Saturday the 17 of April to Sunday the 23 of May, as at Bruges and Bruxels, during the residence he made there; and the English assure … it was not without success, since it was the experience that drew thither every day, a great number of those diseased even from the most remote provinces of Germany.” —Sir William Lower’s Relation of the Voyage and Residence which Charles II hath made in Holland, Hague, 1660, p. 78. Sir William Lower gives a long account of the touching for the evil by Charles before the Restoration. ↩
John Frederic de Friesendorff, ambassador from Sweden to Charles II, who created him a baronet, 1661. ↩
An angelique is described as a species of guitar in Murray’s New English Dictionary, and this passage from the Diary is given as a quotation. The word appears as angelot in Phillips’s English Dictionary (1678), and is used in Browning’s Sordello, as a “plaything of page or girl.” ↩
Alderman Edward Backwell, an eminent banker and goldsmith, who is frequently mentioned in the Diary. His shop was in Lombard Street. He was ruined by the closing of the Exchequer by Charles II in 1672. The crown then owed him £295,994 16s. 6d., in lieu of which the King gave him an annuity of £17,759 13s. 8d. Backwell retired into Holland after the closing of the Exchequer, and died there in 1679. See Hilton Price’s Handbook of London Bankers, 1876. ↩
Thomas Turner (or Tourner) was General Clerk at the Navy Office, and on June 30th he offered Pepys £150 to be made joint Clerk of the Acts with him. In a list of the Admiralty officers just before the King came in, preserved in the British Museum, there occur, Richard Hutchinson; Treasury of the Navy, salary £1,500; Thomas Tourner, General Clerk, for himself and clerk, £100. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of William Whittle of Lancashire, married to Mr., afterwards Sir Stephen Fox. See note 493. ↩
Sir Edward Nicholas, Secretary of State to Charles I and II. He was dismissed from his office through the intrigues of Lady Castlemaine in 1663. He died 1669, aged seventy-seven. ↩
Montagu changed his mind, and ultimately took his title from the town of Sandwich, leaving that of Portsmouth for the use of a King’s mistress. ↩
There is a token of “Thomas Darling at the Three Tuns neare Charing Cross.” See Boyne’s Trade Tokens, vol. i p. 557. ↩
Puddlewharf was at the foot of St. Andrew’s Hill, Upper Thames Street, Blackfriars. ↩
The letters patent, dated July 13th, 12 Charles II, recite and revoke letters patent of February 16th, 14 Charles I, whereby the office of Clerk of the Ships had been given to Dennis Fleming and Thomas Barlow, or the survivor. D. F. was then dead, but T. B. living, and Samuel Pepys was appointed in his room, at a salary of £33 6s. 8d. per annum, with 3s. 4d. for each day employed in travelling, and £6 per annum for boathire, and all fees due. This salary was only the ancient “fee out of the Exchequer,” which had been attached to the office for more than a century. Pepys’s salary had been previously fixed at £350 a year. ↩
A token of William Burges, at the Swan at Dowgate Conduit, 1668, is described in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, by Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 583. ↩
Sir Thomas Ingram was appointed Commissioner for Tangier. ↩
Matthew Wren, born 1585, successively Bishop of Hereford, Norwich, and Ely. At the commencement of the Rebellion he was sent to the Tower, and remained a prisoner there eighteen years. Died April 24th, 1667. ↩
“A Proclamation for setting apart a day of Solemn and Public Thanksgiving throughout the whole Kingdom,” dated June 5th, 1660. ↩
Clothworkers’ Hall, in Mincing Lane. The original Hall was burned in the Great Fire. It will be seen from this entry that ladies were admitted to the dinners. ↩
Mr., afterwards Sir Francis Chaplin, from Bury St. Edmund’s, Alderman of Vintry Ward and Clothworker. He was Sheriff in 1668, and Lord Mayor in 1677. ↩
This must either have been in Davenant’s Siege of Rhodes, acted at Rutland House in 1656, or in the same author’s Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru, acted at the Cockpit in 1658. It is unfortunate that the Diarist does not tell us who it was that sang behind the scenes. ↩
Dennis Gauden, Victualler to the Navy, subsequently knighted while sheriff of London: the large house at Clapham, in which Pepys died, was built by him, and intended as a palace for the Bishops of Winchester; his brother, Dr. John Gauden, then expecting to be translated from Exeter to that See, but he was promoted to Worcester. Sir Dennis was ultimately ruined, and his villa purchased by William Hewer. ↩
Daniel Rawlinson kept the Mitre in Fenchurch Street, and there is a farthing token of his extant, “At the Mitetr in Fenchurch Streete, D. M. R.” The initials stand for Daniel and Margaret Rawlinson (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol i, 1889, p. 595) In Reliquiæ Hearnianæ (ed. Bliss, 1869, vol. ii p. 39) is the following extract from Thomas Rawlinson’s Note Book R.: “Of Daniel Rawlinson, my grandfather, who kept the Mitre tavern in Fenchurch Street, and of whose being sequestred in the Rump time I have heard much, the Whiggs tell this, that upon the king’s murder he hung his signe in mourning. He certainly judged right. The honour of the Mitre was much eclipsed through the loss of so good a parent of the church of England. These rogues say, this endeared him so much to the churchmen that he soon throve amain and got a good estate.” Mrs. Rawlinson died of the plague (see August 9th, 1666), and the house was burnt in the Great Fire. Mr. Rawlinson rebuilt the Mitre, and he had the panels of the great room painted with allegorical figures by Isaac Fuller. Daniel was father of Sir Thomas Rawlinson, of whom Thomas Hearne writes (October 1st, 1705): “Sir Thomas Rawlinson is chosen Lord Mayor of London for ye ensuing notwithstanding the great opposition of ye Whigg party” (Hearne’s Collections, ed. Doble, 1885, vol. i p. 51). The well-known antiquaries, Thomas and Richard Rawlinson, sons of Sir Thomas, were therefore grandsons of Daniel. ↩
Edith Pepys, daughter of Samuel Pepys of Steeple Bumsted (died 1665), married Thomas Wight of Denston, co. Suffolk. ↩
Sir Geoffrey Palmer, Attorney-General, and Chief Justice of Chester, 1660; created a baronet, 1661. Died 1670. ↩
Sir John Grenville was a cousin of General Monk, and for his services in the cause of the Restoration was created Lord Grenville of Kilkhampton and Biddeford, Viscount Grenville of Lansdown, and Earl of Bath, April 20th, 1661. Died 1701. ↩
Sir Richard Fanshawe, knight and baronet, born at Ware Park, Herts. 1608, secretary to Charles II at Breda, and after the Restoration M.P. for Cambridge. He negotiated the marriage with Catherine of Braganza. He was a good linguist, and “gave our language,” says Campbell, “some of its earliest and most important translations from modern literature.” He was appointed ambassador to Spain in 1664, and died at Madrid, 1666. ↩
Thomas Barlow was originally in the service of Algernon, Earl of Northumberland, and was appointed by him Muster Master of the Fleet under his command in 1636. He was appointed in 1638 joint Clerk of the Acts (with Dennis Fleming). ↩
Algernon Percy, tenth Earl of Northumberland, Lord High Admiral to Charles I. ↩
Thomas De Critz was Serjeant Painter to Charles I, and some account of him is given in Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting. This Mr. De Cretz, who was probably his son, was a copier of pictures. ↩
William Wayneman was constantly getting into trouble, and Pepys had to cane him. He was dismissed on July 7th, 1663. ↩
Camlet was a mixed stuff of wool and silk. It was very expensive, and later Pepys gave £24 for a suit. (See June 1st, 1664.) ↩
John Roder, knighted August 5th, 1660. Le Neve calls him Roth, and says he was of Utrecht. ↩
The Bell Tavern in King Street, Westminster, was of some antiquity. It is mentioned in 1466 among Sir John Howard’s expenses, and was famous in the reign of Queen Anne. Here the October Club met. ↩
A list of the Officers of the Admiralty, May 31st, 1660.
From a MS. in the Pepysian Library in Pepys’s own handwriting.
His Royal Highness James, Duke of York, Lord High Admiral.
Sir George Carteret, born 1599, had originally been bred to the sea service, and became Comptroller of the Navy to Charles I, and Governor of Jersey, where he obtained considerable reputation by his gallant defence of that island against the Parliament forces. At the Restoration he was made Vice-Chamberlain to the King, Treasurer of the Navy, and a Privy Councillor, and in 1661 he was elected M.P. for Portsmouth. In 1666 he exchanged the Treasurership of the Navy with the Earl of Anglesea for the Vice-Treasurership of Ireland. He became a Commissioner of the Admiralty in 1673. He continued in favour with Charles II till his death, January 14th, 1679, in his eightieth year. He married his cousin Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Philip Carteret, Knight of St. Ouen, and had issue three sons and five daughters. ↩
The Navy Office was erected on the site of Lumley House, formerly belonging to the Fratres Sancta Crucis (or Crutched Friars), and all business connected with naval concerns was transacted there till its removal to Somerset House. The ground was afterwards occupied by the East India Company’s warehouses. The civil business of the Admiralty was removed from Somerset House to Spring Gardens in 1869. ↩
The first Excise Office was in Smithfield, and it was frequently removed to different parts of London. ↩
“July 5th. His Majesty, the two Dukes, the House of Lords, and the House of Commons, and the Privy Council, dined at the Guildhall. Every Hall appeared with their colours and streamers to attend His Majesty; the Masters in gold chains. Twelve pageants in the streets between Temple Bar and Guildhall. Forty brace of bucks were that day spent in the City of London.”
Thomas Hayter. He remained with Pepys for some time; and by his assistance was made Petty Purveyor of Petty Missions. He succeeded Pepys as Clerk of the Acts in 1673, and in 1679 he was Secretary of the Admiralty, and Comptroller of the Navy from 1680 to 1682. ↩
Richard Cooling or Coling, A.M., of All Souls College, Secretary to the Earls of Manchester and Arlington when they filled the office of Lord Chamberlain, and a Clerk of the Privy Council in ordinary. There is a mezzotinto print of him in the Pepysian Collection. —B. ↩
This salary was in place of the ancient fee out of the Exchequer of £33 6s. 8d. ↩
During the Commonwealth organs were destroyed all over the country, and the following is the title of the Ordinances under which this destruction took place: “Two Ordinances of the Lords and Commons assembled in Parliament, for the speedy demolishing of all organs, images, and all matters of superstitious monuments in all Cathedrals and Collegiate or Parish Churches and Chapels throughout the Kingdom of England and the dominion of Wales; the better to accomplish the blessed reformation so happily begun, and to remove all offences and things illegal in the worship of God. Dated May 9th, 1644.” When at the period of the Restoration music again obtained its proper place in the services of the Church, there was much work for the organ builders. According to Dr. Rimbault (Hopkins on the Organ, 1855, p. 74), it was more than fifty years after the Restoration when our parish churches began commonly to be supplied with organs. Drake says, in his Eboracum (published in 1733), that at that date only one parish church in the city of York possessed an organ. Bernard Schmidt, better known as “Father Smith,” came to England from Germany at the time of the Restoration, and he it was who built the organ at the Chapel Royal. He was in high favour with Charles II, who allowed him apartments in Whitehall Palace. ↩
Henry King, Dean of Rochester, advanced to the See of Chichester, February, 1641–42. Died September 30th, 1669, in the seventy-seventh year of his age. ↩
Salisbury, portrait painter, not mentioned by Walpole. ↩
The Grace which passed the University, on this occasion, is preserved in Kennett’s Chronicle, and commenced as follows:
“Cum Sam. Pepys, Coll. Magd. Inceptor in Artibus in Regiâ Classe existat e Secretis, exindeq. apud mare adeo occupatissimus ut Comitiis proximè futuris interesse non possit; placet vobis ut dictus S. P. admissionem suam necnon creationem recipiat ad gradum Magistri in Artibus sub personâ Timothei Wellfit, Inceptoris, etc. etc.—June 26, 1660.”
Goring House in St. James’s Park, the town residence of George, Lord Goring, Earl of Norwich. It occupied the site of Buckingham House, afterwards Buckingham Palace. Goring House was burnt in 1674, at which time the Earl of Arlington was living there. ↩
That would be £1 13s. 3d. The rate at which the Mexico or Seville piece of eight was to be received was 4s. 9d. ↩
The motive for Sir Edward Montagu’s so suddenly altering his intended title is not explained; probably, the change was adopted as a compliment to the town of Sandwich, off which the Fleet was lying before it sailed to bring Charles from Scheveling. Montagu had also received marked attentions from Sir John Boys and other principal men at Sandwich; and it may be recollected, as an additional reason, that one or both of the seats for that borough have usually been placed at the disposal of the Admiralty. The title of Portsmouth was given, in 1673, for her life, to the celebrated Louise de Querouaille, and becoming extinct with her, was, in 1743, conferred upon John Wallop, Viscount Lymington, the ancestor of the present Earl of Portsmouth. —B. ↩
Pepys was a frequent visitor to the Dolphin, which was conveniently situated in Tower Street. There is a farthing token of this tavern which is dated 1650 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 779). ↩
Sir John Berkeley, son of Sir Maurice Berkeley of Bruton, co. Somerset, knighted at Berwick in 1637–8. He was distinguished as a royalist officer in the Civil Wars, and created Baron Berkeley of Stratton in 1658 by letters patent dated at Brussels. At the Restoration he was appointed an Extra Commissioner of the Navy, which office he held until December, 1664; sworn in the Privy Council in 1663, and appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1670. He went as ambassador to France in 1674. He built, in 1665, a mansion in Piccadilly, at a cost of £30,000, called Berkeley House, which was destroyed by fire in 1733, when in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, and Devonshire House now occupies its site. He died in 1678. ↩
Willoughby’s name does not occur in the list of Naval Commissioners, 1660–1760, by Sir George Jackson, privately printed by Sir G. F. Duckett in 1889. ↩
The Six Clerks’ Office was in Chancery Lane, near the Holborn end. The business of the office was to enrol commissions, pardons, patents, warrants, etc., that had passed the Great Seal; also other business in Chancery. “In the early history of the Court of Chancery, the Six Clerks and their under-clerks appear to have acted as the attorneys of the suitors. As business increased, these under-clerks became a distinct body, and were recognized by the court under the denomination of ‘sworn clerks,’ or ‘clerks in court.’ The advance of commerce, with its consequent accession of wealth, so multiplied the subjects requiring the judgment of a Court of Equity, that the limits of a public office were found wholly inadequate to supply a sufficient number of officers to conduct the business of the suitors. Hence originated the ‘Solicitors’ of the Court of Chancery.” See Smith’s Chancery Practice, p. 62, 3rd edit. The “Six Clerks” were abolished by act of Parliament, 5 Vict. c. 5. ↩
Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton. He died 1683. ↩
The Earls of Worcester had a large house in the Strand between Durham Place and the Savoy, the site of which is now marked by Beaufort Buildings, which Lord Clarendon rented while his own mansion was building. ↩
Barbara Villiers, only child of William, second Viscount Grandison, born November, 1640, married April 14th, 1659, to Roger Palmer, created Earl of Castlemaine, 1661. She became the King’s mistress soon after the Restoration, and was in 1670 made Baroness Nonsuch, Countess of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleveland. She had six children by the King, one of them being created Duke of Grafton, and the eldest son succeeding her as Duke of Cleveland. She subsequently married Beau Fielding, whom she prosecuted for bigamy. She died October 9th, 1709, aged sixty-nine. Her life was written by G. Steinman Steinman, and privately printed 1871, with addenda 1874, and second addenda 1878. ↩
Major Tollhurst was an old friend of Pepys’s, and is mentioned again on January 9th, 1662–63. ↩
Payne Fisher, who styled himself Paganus Piscator, was born in 1616, in Dorsetshire, and removed from Hart Hall, Oxford, of which he had been a commoner, to Magdalene College, Cambridge, in 1634, and there took a degree of B.A., and first discovered a turn for poetry. He was afterwards a captain in the King’s service at Marston Moor fight; but, leaving his command, employed his pen against the cause which he had supported with his sword, and became a favourite of Cromwell’s. After the King’s return, he obtained a scanty subsistence by flattering men in power, and was frequently imprisoned for debt. He borrowed from Pepys, see post 28th of this same month. He died, 1693, in the Fleet Prison (Harl. MS. 1460). He published several poems, chiefly in Latin and, in 1682, printed a book of Heraldry, with the arms of such of the gentry as he had waited upon with presentation copies. He was a man of talents, but vain, unsteady, and conceited, and a great timeserver. —B. ↩
William Hewer, of whose family little more is known than that his father died of the plague, September 14th, 1665. He was first the clerk, and afterwards the faithful friend of Pepys, who died in his house at Clapham, previously the residence of Sir Dennis Gauden. He was appointed Deputy Judge Advocate of the Fleet in 1677, and Commissioner of the Navy in 1685, and elected M.P. for Yarmouth, Isle of Wight, in 1685. He was also Treasurer for Tangier. Mr. Hewer was buried in the old church at Clapham, where a large monument of marble, with his bust in alto-relievo, erected to his memory, was, on the rebuilding of the church, placed outside. ↩
The New Exchange on the south side of the Strand, built on the site of the stables of Durham House. The first stone was laid June 10th, 1608, and the new building was named by James I “Britain’s Burse.” It was a much frequented place after the Restoration, and the destruction of the Royal Exchange in the Great Fire caused it much prosperity for a time. It was taken down in 1737. ↩
This is still railed off from St. James’s Park, and called the Enclosure. ↩
Sir William Morrice, born November 6th, 1602, at Exeter, Secretary of State from 1660 to 1668. He died December 12th, 1676. He was kinsman to General Monk. ↩
The Earl of Manchester was chosen Speaker of the House of Lords, see ante, April 26th, 1660. ↩
August, 1661:
“This year the Fair, called St. James’s Fair, was kept the full appointed time, being a fortnight; but during that time many lewd and infamous persons were by his Majesty’s express command to the Lord Chamberlain, and his Lordship’s direction to Robert Nelson, Esq., committed to the House of Correction.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
St. James’s fair was held first in the open space near St. James’s Palace, and afterwards in St. James’s Market. It was prohibited by the Parliament in 1651, but revived at the Restoration. It was, however, finally suppressed before the close of the reign of Charles II. ↩
This is one of the earliest references to Pall Mall as an inhabited street, and also one of the earliest uses of the word clubbing. ↩
Half a piece was valued at 2s. 4½d., see ante, July 10th. ↩
Some clocks are still made with a small ball, or bullet, on an inclined plane, which turns every minute. The King’s clocks probably dropped bullets. Gainsborough the painter had a brother who was a dissenting minister at Henley-on-Thames, and possessed a strong genius for mechanics. He invented a clock of a very peculiar construction, which, after his death, was deposited in the British Museum. It told the hour by a little bell, and was kept in motion by a leaden bullet, which dropped from a spiral reservoir at the top of the clock, into a little ivory bucket. This was so contrived as to discharge it at the bottom, and by means of a counterweight was carried up to the top of the clock, where it received another bullet, which was discharged as the former. This seems to have been an attempt at the perpetual motion.
Brian Duppa, born March 10th, 1588–9, tutor to the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II, successively Bishop of Chichester, Salisbury, and Winchester. Died March 26th, 1662. ↩
Baptist, third Viscount Campden, Lord Lieutenant of Rutlandshire. Died 1682. Campden House was built about 1612 by Sir Baptist Hicks, first Viscount Campden. The third Earl entertained Charles II here immediately after the Restoration. The house was burnt down March 23rd, 1862, and rebuilt soon afterwards. ↩
The manor of Lisson Green (Domesday Lilesstone) remained a rural district till the end of the last century, and Dodsley (1761) describes it as “a pleasant village near Paddington.” Marylebone was quite a country place in Pepys’s day, and long after. ↩
The clerks of the Privy Seal took the duty of attendance for a month by turns. ↩
There is a farthing token of the Sun in New Fish Street (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 681). ↩
Pepys wished to let his house in Axe Yard now that he had apartments at the Navy Office. ↩
This well-known theatre was situated in St. John’s Street on the site of Red Bull Yard. Pepys went there on March 23rd, 1661, when he expressed a very poor opinion of the place. T. Carew, in some commendatory lines on Sir William Davenant’s play, The Just Italian, 1630, abuses both audiences and actors:—
“There are the men in crowded heaps that throng To that adulterate stage, where not a tongue Of th’ untun’d kennel can a line repeat Of serious sense.”
There is a token of this house (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 725). ↩
Sir John Robinson, clothworker, son of Archdeacon Robinson of Nottingham. He was one of the Commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately, and was created a baronet for his services to the King, 1660, and had an augmentation to his arms. He was alderman of Dowgate, afterwards of Cripplegate; Lord Mayor, 1662. He retained the Lieutenancy of the Tower till 1678. A portrait of him is at Clothworkers’ Hall. ↩
Lady Jemima Montagu, daughter of Lord Sandwich, previously described as Mrs. Jem. ↩
Heneage Finch, son of Sir Heneage Finch, Recorder of London, was born December 23rd, 1621. He was called to the bar in 1645, and soon obtained considerable fame as a counsel. He was styled “the silver-tongued lawyer,” “the English Cicero,” and “the English Roscius.” A week after the King’s return in 1660 he was appointed Solicitor-General and created a baronet; Attorney-General, 1670; Lord Keeper, and created Baron Finch, 1673; Lord Chancellor, 1675; Earl of Nottingham, 1681. Died December 18th, 1682. ↩
Colonel Cary Dillon, a friend of the Butlers, who courted the fair Frances; but the engagement was subsequently broken off, see December 31st, 1661. ↩
This was Samuel Hartlib the younger, son of the friend of Milton, who was a neighbour of Pepys in Axe Yard. When Pepys refers to the elder Samuel Hartlib he calls him Mr. Hartlib. In Dircks’s Biographical Memoir of Samuel Hartlib (1865), the mistake is made of supposing that the Samuel Hartlib here referred to was the elder, and Nan Hartlib his sister instead of his daughter. ↩
Sir John Roder or Roth, see ante, July 1st and 10th. ↩
Holland House, the fine old mansion still standing at Kensington, was greatly added to and improved by Henry Rich, Earl of Holland, who was beheaded, March 9th, 1649. His house was afterwards successively occupied by Generals Fairfax and Lambert, but subsequently it was restored to the earl’s widow; she seems to have let a portion of the house. ↩
Catan did not take the good advice offered her, but married Mons. Petit. See October 23rd, 1660. ↩
Races in Hyde Park were fashionable in the reign of Charles I. They were usually run round the Ring. ↩
John Claypole (born August 21st, 1625) married, on January 13th, 1645–46, Elizabeth, second daughter of Oliver Cromwell, to whom he became Master of the Horse, and a Lord of the Bedchamber: he was also placed in his father-in-law’s Upper House. During Richard Cromwell’s time he retained all his places at Court; and at the Restoration he was not molested. He was arrested in June, 1678, and imprisoned in the Tower, but speedily released. He died June 26th, 1688. His father had been proceeded against in the Star Chamber, for resisting the payment of Ship Money, and was by Cromwell constituted Clerk of the Hanaper, and created a baronet. Mrs. Claypole died August 6th, 1658. ↩
Henry Cooke, chorister of the Chapel Royal, adhered to the royal cause at the breaking out of the Civil Wars, and for his bravery obtained a captain’s commission. At the Restoration he received the appointment of Master of the Children of the Chapel Royal; he was an excellent musician, and three of his pupils turned out very distinguished musicians, viz., Pelham Humphrey, John Blow, and Michael Wise. He was one of the original performers in The Siege of Rhodes. He died July 13th, 1672, and was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey. In another place, Pepys says, “a vain coxcomb he is, though he sings so well.” ↩
Edward Montagu, second Earl of Manchester, K.G., Lord Chamberlain, died 1671. ↩
A yacht which was greatly admired, and was imitated and improved by Commissioner Pett, who built a yacht for the King in 1661, which was called the Jenny. Queen Elizabeth had a yacht, and one was built by Phineas Pett in 1604. ↩
The Cockpit Theatre, situated in Drury Lane, was occupied as a playhouse in the reign of James I. It was occupied by Davenant and his company in 1658, and they remained in it until November 15th, 1660, when they removed to Salisbury Court. ↩
A tragicomedy by Beaumont and Fletcher. Kynaston’s part was Olympia. ↩
Edward Kynaston, engaged by Sir W. Davenant, in 1660, to perform the principal female characters: he afterwards assumed the male ones in the first parts of tragedy, and continued on the stage till the end of King William’s reign. He died in 1712. Who played Archas is unknown; but Betterton, as Downes tells us, was early distinguished for playing in The Loyal Subject. ↩
Daniel Milles, D.D., thirty-two years rector of St. Olave’s, Hart Street, and buried there, October, 1689, aged sixty-three. He was appointed April 17th, 1657. Newcourt (Repertorium) writes, “Dan Mills was admitted to the church in the late times of usurpation by the Commission for approving of Public Preachers, but at whose presentation I know not.” In 1667 Sir Robert Brooks presented him to the rectory of Wanstead, in Essex, which he also held till his death. ↩
It is said that these woolpacks were placed in the House of Lords for the judges to sit on, so that the fact that wool was a main source of our national wealth might be kept in the popular mind. The Lord Chancellor’s seat is now called the Woolsack. ↩
Henry Hickman, a native of Worcestershire, took the degree of B.A. at St. Catherine’s Hall, Cambridge, and, migrating to Oxford, obtained a fellowship at Magdalen College, from the usurping powers, which he lost in 1660, to make room for the rightful owner. He then retired to Holland and passed most of his time abroad, dying at Leyden in 1692. He wrote several theological tracts, and was considered a severe enemy to the ceremonies of the Church of England. —B. ↩
Colonel John Birch, elected M.P. for Leominster in 1646, and continued until 1660. He represented Penrhyn in the parliament of 1661. ↩
Monk, Duke of Albemarle, was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland with the understanding that he should perform the duties by deputy. ↩
John Robartes, second Lord Robartes, afterwards (1661) Lord Privy Seal, advanced to the Earldom of Radnor, 1679. Lord Robartes went again to Ireland as Lord Lieutenant in 1669. Died 1685. ↩
James Butler, afterwards created Duke of Ormond, and K.G., and twice Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. ↩
Dr. (afterwards Sir William) Walker was one of the Judges of the Admiralty. ↩
Phineas Pett, Assistant Master Shipwright at Chatham, was suspended on this frivolous charge, and dismissed in October. ↩
“Melons were hardly known in England till Sir George Gardiner brought one from Spain, when they became in general estimation. The ordinary price was five or six shillings.”
The gallery built for the officers of the Navy House remained until the restoration of the church in 1870–71 under the direction of Mr. (now Sir Arthur) Blomfield, A.R.A. The memorial to Pepys, erected in 1884, was placed on the wall where the gallery was situated. ↩
Thomas Pepys, M.A., M.D., son of Talbot Pepys of Middle Temple and Impington, born at Norwich, June 5th, 1621, Fellow of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. He died unmarried at Impington. ↩
Jo. Barclaii Argenis. Lugd. Bat. 1659 is in the Pepysian Library, as also the second and third parts published in 1689. ↩
Colonel Adrian Scroope, one of the persons who sat in judgment upon Charles I. ↩
Pepys refers to two Wills. This was Will Wayneman; the other was William Hewer. ↩
12 Car. II cap. II, an act of free and general pardon, indemnity, and oblivion. ↩
The fashion of placing black patches on the face was introduced towards the close of the reign of Charles I, and the practice is ridiculed in the Spectator. ↩
Probably Josiah Child (born 1630), Deputy Treasurer of the Fleet, Mayor of Portsmouth, Director, and afterwards Chairman of the East India Company, which he ruled despotically. He wrote Brief Observations on Trade, 1668, a second edition of which appeared in 1690 as A New Discourse of Trade, and which went through many subsequent editions. He was created a baronet in 1678, and died June 22nd, 1699. ↩
Mary, Princess Royal and Princess of Orange, who died in December of this year. ↩
Claude Lamoral, Prince de Ligne, had commanded the cavalry in the Low Countries, was afterwards Viceroy of Sicily and Governor of Milan. He died at Madrid in 1679. He had married, by dispensation, his cousin Maria Clara of Nassau, widow of his brother Albert Henry, who had died without issue. In our own time his descendant, the Prince de Ligne, was Ambassador Extraordinary from Belgium at the coronation of Queen Victoria. —B. ↩
Henry Ferne, born at York in 1602, D.D. 1643, Chaplain Extraordinary to Charles I, Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, Dean of Ely, 1662, Bishop of Chester, February, 1661–62, and died five weeks after his consecration on the 16th March. He wrote many controversial pamphlets. ↩
“Both Sir Williams” is a favourite expression with Pepys, meaning Sir William Batten and Sir William Penn. ↩
Colonel, afterwards Sir Robert Slingsby, Bart., appointed Comptroller of the Navy in 1660. He died October 28th, 1661, and Pepys grieved for his loss. ↩
Philip, Duke of Anjou, afterwards Duke of Orleans, brother of Louis XIV (born 1640, died 1701), married the Princess Henrietta, youngest daughter of Charles I, who was born June 16th, 1644, at Exeter. She was known as “La belle Henriette.” In May, 1670, she came to Dover on a political mission from Louis XIV to her brother Charles II, but the visit was undertaken much against the wish of her husband. Her death occurred on her return to France, and was attributed to poison. It was the occasion of one of the finest of Bossuet’s Oraisons Funèbres. ↩
Hugh Peters, born at Fowey, Cornwall, and educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he graduated M.A. 1622. He was tried as one of the regicides, and executed. A broadside, entitled The Welsh Hubub, or the Unkennelling and Earthing of Hugh Peters That Crafty Fox, was printed October 3rd, 1660. ↩
Major Hart; he lived in Cannon Street; see post, September 20th. ↩
The Trained Bands were abolished in 1663, but those of the City of London were specially excepted. The officers of the Trained Bands were supplied by the Hon. Artillery Company. ↩
The Bear at the Bridge foot was a famous tavern at the Southwark end of old London Bridge, on the west side of High Street. It was pulled down in December, 1761. ↩
Liberty to hold an annual fair in Southwark on September 7th, 8th, and 9th, was granted to the City of London by the charter of 2 Edward IV (November 2nd, 1462). Though the allowed time for its continuance by charter was only three days, it generally continued, like other fairs, for fourteen days. ↩
Thomæ Bartholini Anatomia, Hagæ Comitis, 1660, Joannis Rosini Antiquitatum Romanarum Corpus, Amstelodami, 1685, Petri Gassendi Institutio Astronomica, 1683, are in Pepys’s library. ↩
A gold coin varying in value at different times from 6s. 8d. to 10s. ↩
Elizabeth Stradwick, sister of Richard Pepys, and wife of Thomas Stradwick. ↩
Elegies on the Duke of Gloucester’s death were printed. One of these was entitled, “Some Teares dropped on the Herse of the incomparable Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester.” ↩
The Mitre in Wood Street was kept by William Proctor, who died insolvent of the plague, 1665 (see July 31st, 1665). The tavern was destroyed in the Great Fire (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 800). ↩
Nathaniel Hardy, D.D., was for many years preacher at the church of St. Dionis Backchurch, and on August 10th, 1660, he was appointed rector of that parish. He was son of Anthony Hardy, and born in the Old Bailey, September 14th, 1618. He became a prominent Presbyterian minister, but after the Treaty of Uxbridge, 1644, he changed his opinions, and preached a recantation sermon in London. He was appointed Dean of Rochester, December 10th, 1660, and vicar of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. Died at Croydon, June 1st, 1670, and was buried in the church of St. Martin’s. ↩
Aubrey de Vere, then twentieth Earl of Oxford, survived till March 12, 1702–3, when the title became extinct. ↩
This is the Mall in St. James’s Park, which was made by Charles II, the former Mall (Pall Mall) having been built upon during the Commonwealth. Charles II also formed the canal by throwing the several small ponds into one. ↩
“The Queen-mother of France,” says Ward, in his Diary, p. 177, “died at Agrippina, 1642, and her son Louis, 1643, for whom King Charles mourned in Oxford in purple, which is Prince’s mourning.” ↩
According to Noble, Jeremiah White married Lady Frances Cromwell’s waiting-woman, in Oliver’s lifetime, and they lived together fifty years. Lady Frances had two husbands, Mr. Robert Rich and Sir John Russell of Chippenham, the last of whom she survived fifty-two years dying 1721–22 The story is, that Oliver found White on his knees to Frances Cromwell, and that, to save himself, he pretended to have been soliciting her interest with her waiting-woman, whom Oliver compelled him to marry. (Noble’s Life of Cromwell, vol. ii pp. 151, 152.) White was born in 1629 and died 1707. ↩
“A game at cards not unlike Loo, but with this difference, the winner of one trick has to put in a double stake, the winner of two tricks a triple stake, and so on. Thus, if six persons are playing, and the general stake is 1s., suppose A gains the three tricks, he gains 6s., and has to ‘hand i’ the cap,’ or pool, 4s. for the next deal. Suppose A gains two tricks and B one, then A gains 4s. and B 2s., and A has to stake 3s. and B 2s. for the next deal.”
The Old Swan tavern in Thames Street was a very old house, and mention of it is found as early as 1323. There is a token of Richard Evans dated 1668, which must have been issued from the new building, as the old tavern was destroyed in the Great Fire (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 768). ↩
Samphire was formerly a favourite pickle; hence the “dangerous trade” of the samphire gatherer (King Lear, act iv sc. 6) who supplied the demand. It was sold in the streets, and one of the old London cries was “I ha’ Rock Samphier, Rock Samphier!” ↩
A fort four miles east of Dunkirk, probably dismantled when that town was sold to Louis XIV. ↩
In the Strand; built, under the auspices of James I, in 1608, out of the stables of Durham House, the site of the present Adelphi. The New Exchange stood where Coutts’s banking-house now is. “It was built somewhat on the model of the Royal Exchange, with cellars beneath, a walk above, and rows of shops over that, filled chiefly with milliners, sempstresses, and the like.” It was also called “Britain’s Burse.”
“He has a lodging in the Strand … to watch when ladies are gone to the china houses, or to the Exchange, that he may meet them by chance and give them presents, some two or three hundred pounds worth of toys, to be laughed at.”
Pepys apparently was ignorant of the instructions in the Levitical law, “Then shalt thou kill the ram, and take of his blood and put it upon the tip of the right ear of Aaron, and upon the tip of the right ear of his sons, and upon the thumb of their right hand, and upon the great toe of their right foot.” Exodus 29:20. (See also Leviticus 8:23, 14:14.) ↩
Richard Pepys, eldest son of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland. He went to Boston, Mass., in 1634, and returned to England about 1646. ↩
William Wilde, elected Recorder on November 3rd, 1659, and appointed one of the commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately. He was knighted after the King’s return, called to the degree of Serjeant, and created a baronet, all in the same year. In 1668 he ceased to be Recorder, and was appointed judge of the Court of Common Pleas. In 1673 he was removed to the King’s Bench. He was turned out of his office in 1679 on account of his action in connection with the Popish Plot, and died November 23rd of the same year. ↩
James Howell directed a letter from Middleburg in Zealand, June 6th, 1619, to “Captain Francis Bacon, at the Glass house in Broad Street.” Monk was lodged there in February, 1659–60. The place was burned in the Great Fire. ↩
Luke Cheynell, a hop merchant, is mentioned not very respectfully in Select City Quæries, by Mercurius Philalethes, Part I, London, 1660. This may be the same person. ↩
Colonel, afterwards Sir Robert Slingsby, Comptroller of the Navy, whose father, Sir Guildford Slingsby, held the same office. See ante, September 5th. ↩
Sir Richard Ford was one of the commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately. ↩
The Mercurius Politicus of September 30th, 1658, sets forth:
That excellent and by all Physicians, approved, China drink, called by the Chineans Tcha, by other nations Tay alias Tee, is sold at the Sultaness Head Coffeehouse, in Sweetings Rents, by the “Royal Exchange, London.”
“Coffee, chocolate, and a kind of drink called tee, sold in almost every street in 1659.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
It is stated in Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 593 “that the word tea occurs on no other tokens than those issued from ‘the Great Turk’ (Morat ye Great) coffeehouse in Exchange Alley. The Dutch East India Company introduced tea into Europe in 1610, and it is said to have been first imported into England from Holland about 1650. The English “East India Company” purchased and presented 2lbs. of tea to Charles II in 1660, and 23⅔lbs. in 1666. The first order for its importation by the company was in 1668, and the first consignment of it, amounting to 143lbs., was received from Bantam in 1669 (see Sir George Birdwood’s Report on the Old Records at the India Office, 1890, p. 26). By act 12 Car. II, capp. 23, 24, a duty of 8d. per gallon was imposed upon the infusion of tea, as well as on chocolate and sherbet. ↩
“The Princess Royal came from Gravesend to Whitehall by water, attended by a noble retinue of about one hundred persons, gentry, and servants, and tradesmen, and tirewomen, and others, that took that opportunity to advance their fortunes, by coming in with so excellent a Princess as without question she is.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
A broadside, entitled Ourania, the High and Mighty Lady the Princess Royal of Aurange, Congratulated on Her Most Happy Arrival, September the 25th, 1660, was printed on the 29th. ↩
The Tredagh, a third-rate of fifty guns, had its name changed to Resolution. ↩
A shoal in the North Sea, off the Thames mouth, outside the Long Sand, fifteen miles N.N.E. of the North Foreland. It measures seven miles northeastward, and about two miles in breadth. It is partly dry at low water. A revolving light was set up in 1840. ↩
A Prospect of the Most Famous Parts of the World … by John Speed, London, 1631, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
Sir Wm. Doyly was M.P. for the borough of Great Yarmouth. ↩
This is the first mention in the Diary of this famous prince, third son of Frederick, Prince Palatine of the Rhine, and Elizabeth, daughter of James I, born December 17th, 1619. He died at his house in Spring Gardens, November 29th, 1682. ↩
The four humours of the body described by the old physicians were supposed to exert their influence upon the mind, and in course of time the mind as well as the body was credited with its own particular humours. The modern restricted use of the word humour did not become general until the eighteenth century. ↩
John Pepys of Cottenham (who died 1604) married the daughter of John Bendish of Bower Hall, Steeple Bumsted, co. Essex, so they may have thought there was some relationship. Sir Thomas Bendish was an Essex baronet, and for many years English ambassador at the Porte. ↩
Dr. Accepted Frewen, Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield, died March 28th, 1664. ↩
Brian Duppa, translated from Salisbury, died March 26th, 1662. ↩
William Roberts, elected 1637, died August 12th, 1665. ↩
John Warner, elected 1637, died October 14th, 1666, aged eighty-six. ↩
William Pierce, translated from Peterborough, 1632, died April, 1670. ↩
Humphrey Henchman, elected 1660, translated to London, 1663, died October 7th, 1675, aged eighty-three. ↩
William Spurstow, D.D., Vicar of Hackney and Master of Catherine Hall, Cambridge, both which pieces of preferment he lost for nonconformity, 1662. ↩
Anne Hyde, born March 12th, 1637, daughter of Edward, first Earl of Clarendon. She was attached to the court of the Princess of Orange, daughter of Charles I, 1654, and contracted to James, Duke of York, at Breda, November 24th, 1659. The marriage was avowed in London September 3rd, 1660. She joined the Church of Rome in 1669, and died March 31st, 1671. ↩
The Duke of York married Anne Hyde, and he avowed the marriage September 3rd, so that Pepys was rather behindhand in his information. ↩
James Lamb, D.D., installed prebendary of Westminster July 23rd, 1660, rector of St. Andrew’s, Holborn, 1662, died 1664. ↩
Fuller’s Church History of Britain. There is a copy of the edition of 1656 in the Pepysian Library. ↩
A figurative expression for an eager longing desire, used by Udall and by Spenser. The latest authority given by Dr. Murray in the New English Dictionary, is Bailey in 1725. ↩
Sir Hardress Waller, Knt., one of Charles I’s judges. His sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life. ↩
Thomas Scott, the regicide Secretary of State. See ante, note 112. ↩
John Cook, a member of Gray’s Inn, appointed Solicitor-General for the Commonwealth, and ordered to prepare the charge against Charles I. Owing to the illness of the Attorney-General, the conduct of the prosecution fell chiefly upon him. He was rewarded for his services by being made Master of the Hospital of St. Cross. In 1655 appointed Justice of the Court of Upper Bench in Ireland. He was excluded by name from the Act of Indemnity, and executed October 16th, 1660. He wrote several pamphlets, some of which were very scurrilous in language. ↩
General Thomas Harrison, son of a butcher at Newcastle-under-Lyme, appointed by Cromwell to convey Charles I from Windsor to Whitehall, in order to his trial. He signed the warrant for the execution of the King. He was hanged, drawn, and quartered on the 13th. ↩
Second son of John Bridgeman, Bishop of Chester, became, after the Restoration, successively Chief Baron of the Exchequer, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, and Lord Keeper of the Great Seal (1667). He was created a baronet in 1660. In 1672 he was removed from the office of Lord Keeper, and he died June 25th, 1674. ↩
It is said that Le Notre, the architect of the groves and grottos at Versailles, was engaged by Charles II to arrange the improvements in St. James’s Park, but Dr. Morison seems to have been the King’s chief adviser. ↩
Nicholas Burt ranked in the list of good actors after the Restoration, though he resigned the part of Othello to Hart, who had previously acted Cassio when Burt took the Moor.
In Fleet Street, opposite Clifford’s Inn Passage. The keeper of the tavern appears to have been Edward Oldham, who issued a token (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 604). ↩
Major (afterwards Colonel) Norwood, Deputy Governor of Tangier. ↩
Dr. Herbert Croft, Dean of Hereford, consecrated Bishop of Hereford, February 9th, 1661–2. He succeeded Bishop Morley as Dean of the Chapel. Burnet says, “Crofts was a warm devout man, but of no discretion in his conduct; so he lost ground quickly. He used much freedom with the King, but it was in the wrong place, not in private but in the pulpit.” Bishop Croft died at Hereford, May 18th, 1691. ↩
John Carew signed the warrant for the execution of Charles I. He held the religion of the Fifth Monarchists, and was tried October 12th, 1660. He refused to avail himself of many opportunities of escape, and suffered death with much composure. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, first printed in 1639, and again in 1661. ↩
Col. Francis Hacker commanded the guards at the King’s execution. ↩
The old gate was taken down in 1617, and rebuilt in the same year from a design by Gerard Christmas. The gate was injured in the Great Fire, but was repaired and remained until 1761. ↩
Peter Lely, afterwards knighted. He lived in the Piazza, Covent Garden. This portrait was bought by Lord Braybrooke at Mr. Pepys Cockerell’s sale in 1848, and is now at Audley End. ↩
The edition in the Pepysian Library of Certain Sermons or Homilies Appointed to Be Read in Churches is dated 1673. ↩
William Lilly, the astrologer and almanac-maker, born 1602. He lived in the Strand, and died in 1681. His Merlinus Anglicus Junior was read to the Parliament’s troops in Scotland as promising victory. ↩
Elias Ashmole, the antiquary, born May 23rd, 1617. He was for a time in the royal army, but subsequently he settled in London, and became associated with the astrologers. He was made Windsor Herald on June 18th, 1660. Died May 18th, 1692. ↩
John Booker, astrologer (born 1603, died 1667); mentioned in Hudibras, part ii, canto iii, line 1093. ↩
Eugene Maurice of Savoy, youngest son of Thomas of Savoy, by Marie de Bourbon, Countess of Soissons, whose title he inherited. He married Olympia Mancini, one of the nieces of Cardinal Mazarin, more than suspected of poisoning practices (like the Brinvilliers). His youngest son was the celebrated general, Prince Eugene of Savoy. —B. ↩
The History of the Thrice Illustrious Princess Henrietta Maria de Bourbon Queen of England. London 1660. Dedicated “to the Paragon of Virtue and Beauty, her Grace the Dutchess of Aubemarle, etc.,” by John Dauncy. The dedication ends with the wish “that the Rising Sun of your Grace’s Virtues and Honours may still soar higher, but never know a declension.” ↩
Alderman Sir Richard Browne was one of the commissioners sent to Charles II at Breda to desire his speedy return to England. See note 248. ↩
Johannis Henrici Alstedii Encyclopædia, 1630, bound in two volumes folio, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
When the calendar was reformed in England by the act 24 Geo. II c. 23, different provisions were made as regards those anniversaries which affect directly the rights of property and those which do not. Thus the old quarter days are still noted in our almanacs, and a curious survival of this is brought home to payers of income tax. The fiscal year still begins on old Lady-day, which now falls on April 6th. All ecclesiastical fasts and feasts and other commemorations which did not affect the rights of property were left on their nominal days, such as the execution of Charles I on January 30th and the restoration of Charles II on May 29th. The change of Lord Mayor’s day from the 29th of October to the 9th of November was not made by the act for reforming the calendar (c. 23), but by another act of the same session (c. 48), entitled “An Act for the Abbreviation of Michaelmas Term,” by which it was enacted, “that from and after the said feast of St. Michael, which shall be in the year 1752, the said solemnity of presenting and swearing the mayors of the city of London, after every annual election into the said office, in the manner and form heretofore used on the 29th day of October, shall be kept and observed on the ninth day of November in every year, unless the same shall fall on a Sunday, and in that case on the day following.” ↩
Wife of Mr. Davis, belonging to the Navy Office. The appellation of my Lady is used in the same sense as the French word Madame. —B. ↩
The Woman’s Prize, or Tamer Tamed, a comedy by John Fletcher, and a sort of sequel to Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, published in the folio edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, 1647. ↩
Pepys might well be anxious on this point, for in October of this year Phineas Pett, assistant master shipwright at Chatham, was dismissed from his post for having when a Child spoken disrespectfully of the King. See ante, August 23rd. ↩
Rev. Simeon Ash, one of the leading Presbyterian ministers. ↩
Philip Nye, minister of Kimbolton and rector of Acton, Middlesex. He succeeded Daniel Featley in the latter living in 1642, and was turned out at the Restoration. He died in 1672. ↩
Thomas Holliard or Hollier was appointed in 1638 surgeon for scald heads at St. Thomas’s Hospital, and on January 25th, 1643–4, he was chosen surgeon in place of Edward Molins. In 1670 his son of the same names was allowed to take his place during his illness. Ward, in his Diary, p. 235, mentions that the porter at St. Thomas’s Hospital told him, in 1661, of Mr. Holyard’s having cut thirty for the stone in one year, who all lived. ↩
“Nov. 2. The Queen-mother and the Princess Henrietta came into London, the Queen having left this land nineteen years ago. Her coming was very private, Lambeth-way, where the King, Queen, and the Duke of York, and the rest, took water, crossed the Thames, and all safely arrived at Whitehall.”
Dr. Rimbault says that Father Smith built his organ in Westminster Abbey in 1662, and that it cost £120 (Hopkins on the Organ, 1855, p. 82). The organ which Pepys heard must therefore have been one put in temporarily. ↩
The Henrietta was formerly the Lambert, see ante, May 23rd. ↩
The old-fashioned custom of sale by auction by inch of candle was continued in sales by the Admiralty to a somewhat late date. See September 3rd, 1662. ↩
William Lawes, elder brother of the more celebrated Henry Lawes, and educated under the same master, John Cooper. For a time he held the situation of a gentleman of the chapel, but at the outbreak of the Civil War he entered the royal army and obtained the rank of captain. He was killed at the siege of Chester, in 1645. Charles I regretted his loss greatly, and went in to mourning for him. The chief work of Lawes was Choice Psalms Put Into Music for Three Voices. The Psalms were set to the well-known paraphrase of Sandys, and this volume was published in 1648 by Henry Lawes. ↩
“A Proclamation to restrain the abuses of Hackney Coaches in the Cities of London and Westminster and the Suburbs thereof.”
Notes and Queries, First Series, vol. viii p. 122
“In April, 1663, the poor widows of hackney-coachmen petitioned for some relief, as the parliament had reduced the number of coaches to 400; there were before, in and about London, more than 2,000.”
This Dutch pleasure boat is mentioned on August 15th, 1660. On January 13th, 1660–61, Pepys comes to the conclusion that Pett’s yacht is much superior to the Dutch boat. ↩
Montelion, the Prophetical Almanac for the Year 1660, 8vo, with frontispiece, by John Phillips. The Montelions for 1661 and 1662 were written by Thomas Flatman. It would appear that Pepys bought the Montelion for 1661. ↩
The Rump, or the Mirror of the Late Times, a comedy by John Tatham, acted at Dorset Court, and printed in 1660 and 1661. ↩
The date of the origin of smoke-jacks does not appear to be known, but the first patent taken out for an improved smoke-jack by Peter Clare is dated December 24th, 1770. The smoke-jack consists of a wind-wheel fixed in the chimney, which communicates motion by means of an endless band to a pulley, whence the motion is transmitted to the spit by gearing. In the valuable introduction to the volume of Abridgments of Specifications Relating to Cooking, 1634–1866 (Patent Office), mention is made of an Italian work by Bartolomeo Scappi, published first at Rome in 1572, and afterwards reprinted at Venice in 1622, which gives a complete account of the kitchens of the time and the utensils used in them. In the plates several roasting-jacks are represented, one worked by smoke or hot air and one by a spring. ↩
Painful, i.e. painstaking or laborious. Latimer speaks of the “painful magistrates.” ↩
Cornelianum dolium is a Latin comedy, by T. R., published at London in 1638. Douce attributed it to Thomas Randolph (d. 1635). The book has a frontispiece representing the sweating tub which, from the name of the patient, was styled Cornelius’s tub. There is a description of the play in the European Magazine, vol. xxxvii (1805), p. 343. ↩
Sir Arnold Breames, Brahams, or Brames, of Bridge Court, Kent, was son of Charles Breames, of Dover, and was knighted at Canterbury, May 27th, 1660. He married, first, Joanna, daughter of Walter Henflete (or Septvans), secondly, Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Dudley Digges, Master of the Rolls, and thirdly, Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Palmer, of Wingham, Bart. ↩
“The contract of bottomry is a negotiable instrument, which may be put in suit by the person to whom it is transferred; it is in use in all countries of maritime commerce and interests. A contract in the nature of a mortgage of a ship, when the owner of it borrows money to enable him to carry on the voyage, and pledges the keel or bottom of the ship as a security for the repayment. If the ship be lost the lender loses his whole money; but if it returns in safety, then he shall receive back his principal, and also the premium stipulated to be paid, however it may exceed the usual or legal rate of interest.”
Elizabeth Pickering, who married John Creed in 1668. ↩
A celebrated place of entertainment in the Strand, by Temple Bar, largely associated with the fame of Ben Jonson. The Royal Society held its dinners here for many years. In 1787 Messrs. Child, the bankers, bought the freehold, and pulling the building down erected Child’s Place on the site. This was destroyed in 1879. ↩
The lyre viol is a viol with extra open bass strings, holding the same relation to the viol as the theorbo does to the lute. A volume entitled Music’s Recreation on the Lyra Viol, was printed by John Playford in 1650. ↩
“Elizabeth Woodcock, evidently his second wife, as his daughter Martha is often mentioned, married February 3rd, 1658–59, to Sir W. Batten; and, secondly, in 1671, to a foreigner called, in the register of Battersea parish, Lord Leyonberg. Lady Leighenberg was buried at Walthamstow, September 16th, 1681.
Lysons’ Environs
Sir James Barkman Leyenberg, the envoy from Sweden, was resident in England till 1682, or later. See January 21st, 1666–67. His name occurs in The Intelligencer, March 12th, 1663–64, as delayed at Stockholm by a fever, though his despatches were ready. A hostile message appears to have passed between him and Pepys, in November, 1670, but the duel was prevented. Perhaps they quarrelled about the money due from Sir W. Batten to Pepys, for which the widow was liable. —B. ↩
Muscadine or muscadel, a rich sort of wine. Vinum muscatum quod moschi odorem referat.
“Quaffed off the muscadel, and threw the sops All in the sexton’s face.”
There is a token of the Leg in New Palace Yard, which was a famous tavern at this time (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 684). ↩
The Globe is given as one of the taverns in Cornhill in the list of taverns in London and Westminster, 1698 (Harl. MS. 4716). ↩
This was Killigrew’s, or the King’s House, opened for the first time November 8th, 1660. ↩
The Beggar’s Bush, a comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, published in the 1647 edition of their plays. ↩
Michael Mohun, or Moone, the celebrated actor, who had borne a major’s commission in the King’s army. The period of his death is uncertain, but he is known to have been dead in 1691. Downes relates that an eminent poet [Lee] seeing him act Mithridates
“vented suddenly this saying: ‘Oh, Mohun, Mohun, thou little man of mettle, if I should write a 100, I’d write a part for thy mouth.’ ”
The Cockpit at Whitehall. The plays at the Cockpit in Drury Lane were acted in the afternoon. ↩
John Singleton, appointed, 1660, one of the musicians of the sackbuts in place of William Lanier. From the sackbut he advanced to the violin, and lastly to the flute. He is mentioned by Dryden in MacFlecknoe, and by Shadwell in Bury Fair. He was one of the King’s twenty-four fiddlers in 1674; see North’s Memoirs of Music, ed. Rimbault, 1846, p. 99 (note). He died 1686, and was buried (April 7th), in the churchyard of St. Paul’s, Covent Garden. ↩
A hard, compact, black-green wood, obtained from Guaiacum officinale, from which pestles, ship-blocks, rollers, castors, etc., are turned. ↩
There is a token of “Robert Chamberlaine at the Maypole in the Strand,” so that it may have been at this house that Pepys alighted (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 755). ↩
The King’s House, near Lincoln’s Inn Fields, see ante, November 20th. ↩
The Traitor, a tragedy by James Shirley, licensed May 4th, 1631, and first printed in 1635. ↩
Henry Jermyn, second son of Sir Thomas Jermyn, born about 1604, created Baron Jermyn of St. Edmondsbury about 1643; advanced to the earldom of St. Albans, 1660, K.G. 1672. Died January 2nd, 1683–4. He was supposed to be married to the Queen Dowager, Henrietta Maria. ↩
Wormwood (Artemisia absinthium) is celebrated for its intensely bitter, tonic, and stimulating qualities, which have caused it to be used in various medicinal preparations, and also in the making of liqueurs, as wormwood wine and crême d’absinthe. ↩
Both these songs by Henry Lawes have been mentioned before. “Help, Help, O Help, Divinity of Love” (see June 5th, 1660). “O King of Heaven and Hell” (not “O God”) is the same as “Orpheus’ Hymn” (see March 4th, 1659–60). Henry Lawes was the friend of Milton and composed the music for Comus, performed at Ludlow Castle in 1634. He set the anthem, “Zadok the Priest,” for the coronation of Charles II. He died October 21st, 1662, and was buried in the Cloisters, Westminster Abbey. ↩
John Wilkins, D.D., born 1614, took the Parliament side, and was made Warden of Wadham College, Oxford. In 1656 he married Robina, the widow of Dr. French and sister of Oliver Cromwell. He was appointed Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1659, but was ejected in 1660. Consecrated Bishop of Chester, November 15th, 1668. He died November 19th, 1672. He was one of the founders of the Royal Society, and jokes were often made respecting the publication of his work, The Discovery of a New World. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, first printed in 1616. After the Restoration it was one of the plays acted by Killigrew’s company. ↩
For “bill of imprest.” In Italian imprestare means “to lend.” In the ancient accounts of persons officially employed by the crown, money advanced, paid on, account, was described as “de prestito,” or “in prestitis.” —M. B. ↩
John Holland was secretary to Sir G. Carteret, then Treasurer of the Navy, and was author of A Brief Discourse on the Navy, written in 1638. See July 25th, 1662. ↩
The system of tickets afterwards gave great trouble, and caused much discontent. —B. ↩
Henry Pinckney (sometimes called Major Pinckney) of the Three Squirrels in Fleet Street over against St. Dunstan’s Church. He was founder of the banking firm now known as Messrs. Goslings and Sharpe (see Hilton Price’s Handbook of London Bankers, 1876, p. 63). He must not be confounded with Leonard Pinckney, one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the Exchequer. ↩
“The Fleece Tavern, in York Street, Covent Garden,” observes John Aubrey, in his Miscellanies, p. 31, “was very unfortunate for homicides; there have been several killed; three in my time. It is now (1692) a private house.” In Rugge’s Diurnal is the following entry: “Nov. 1660. One Sir John Gooscall was unfortunately killed in the Fleece Tavern, Covent Garden, by one Balendin, a Scotchman, who was taken, and committed to the Gatehouse in this month.” The tavern was on the west side of Bridges Street, about six doors south of Russell Street. If Aubrey did not blunder there may have been a back entrance from York Street. William Clifton was the keeper of the tavern. ↩
The names of Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw are not found in the Registers of Westminster Abbey. Colonel Chester, in his edition of the Registers (p. 521), prints the royal warrant for a further exhumation of Commonwealth personages, dated September 9th, 1661. This warrant contains twenty-one names, and these bodies were re-interred on the green on the north side of the Abbey, between the north transept and the west end. ↩
Killigrew’s house, see ante November 20th and 22nd, and above on the 4th of this month. Pepys sometimes calls it the Theatre and at others the Playhouse. ↩
Falstaff was acted by Cartwright, but neither Downes nor Genest give the names of the actors who took the characters of Justice Shallow and Dr. Caius. ↩
Jonas Moore was born at Whitley, Lancashire, February 8th, 1617, and was appointed by Charles I tutor to the Duke of York. Soon after the Restoration he was knighted and made Surveyor-General of the Ordnance. He was famous as a mathematician, and was one of the founders of the Royal Society. He died August 27th, 1679, and at his funeral sixty pieces of ordnance were discharged at the Tower. ↩
There were taverns with this sign in the Strand and Fleet Street. They are registered in the list of taverns in London and Westminster in 1698 (Harl. MS. 4716). ↩
The Middlesex Sessions House in St. John Street, Clerkenwell, named after Sir Baptist Hicks, one of the justices, and afterwards Viscount Campden, at whose cost it was built in 1612. The Sessions House was removed to the present building on Clerkenwell Green in 1782. ↩
John Denham, son of Sir John Denham, Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench in Ireland, born at Dublin in 1615, appointed at the Restoration Surveyor-General of the Works, and created a Knight of the Bath at the Coronation of Charles II; better known as the author of Cooper’s Hill. He was one of the original Fellows of the Royal Society. His troubles with his second wife are related further on in the Diary. He died March, 1668–9, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Nothing further appears to have been done in respect to Sir Robert Slingsby’s scheme of an Order of Knights of the Sea. ↩
The Stocks originally stood on the site of the Mansion House. At this time the place was occupied by a market. ↩
Sir Charles Berkeley, in the Memoirs of Grammont improperly called Sir George Berkeley, created Baron Berkeley of Rathdown and Viscount Fitzharding of Bearhaven (in Ireland) in 1663, and Earl of Falmouth in 1665, was the confidant and favourite of the king. He was killed at Southwold Bay, in the seafight, June 2nd, 1665, and the earldom became extinct. The Duke of York had married Anne Hyde on the 3rd September before. ↩
Pepys seems to have been let off very easily, for, by Act of Parliament 18 Car. II cap. I (1666), servants were to pay one shilling in the pound of their wages, and others from one shilling to three shillings in the pound. ↩
By the proclamation of January 27th, 1660–61, a double ducat was valued at 18s. and a golden rider at £1 2s. 6d. ↩
Probably the Coffee House in Exchange Alley which had for its sign, Morat, or the Turk’s Head. It is frequently referred to in subsequent pages. ↩
Sir Peter Buck was Clerk of the Cheque at Chatham before his appointment as Clerk of the Acts about 1600. He died in 1625, and was succeeded as Clerk of the Acts by Dennis Fleming. ↩
Simon Beale is mentioned again on September 26th, 1668, where he is said to have been one of Oliver’s guards. ↩
Henry Jermyn, second son of Thomas Jermyn and nephew of the Earl of St. Alban’s, born 1636; Master of the Horse to the Duke of York, 1660–1675; created Baron Dover of Dover, 1685, and Earl of Dover, 1689; succeeded as third Baron Jermyn of St. Edmondsbury, 1703. He died, April 6th, 1708. The report in the text was of course false. ↩
Murrough O’Brien, sixth Baron of Inchiquin, in Ireland, advanced to the earldom of Inchiquin in 1654. ↩
Sir Thomas Bond was a Roman Catholic Comptroller of the Household to the Queen Dowager; created a baronet in 1658 by Charles II, to whom, whilst in exile, he had advanced large sums. He died in 1685, and lies buried at Camberwell, in which parish he had purchased an estate at Peckham, and built a house alienated by his son, Sir Henry, to Chief Justice Trevor. —B. ↩
Alexander Fraizer, M.D. (of Montpelier), was physician in ordinary to Charles II, and was knighted by the king, with whom he was a great favourite. In 1651 and 1652 he had been in attendance on the royal family at St. Germains. He died May 3rd, 1681. Dr. Munk says, “His character was never of the highest.” Roll of the Royal College of Physicians 1878, vol. ii, p. 232. ↩
William Warren, a rich tradesman of Wapping, was knighted in 1661, see post, April 17th, 1661. Le Neve says he was “a great builder of ships for King Charles II.” A square built on the site of his residence was named “Sir William Warren’s Square.” ↩
Shakespeare’s King Henry IV, presumably the first part, is given by Downes as one of the plays acted by the King’s Servants, and he gives the following cast—“King: Mr. Wintersel; Prince: Mr. Burt; Hotspur: Mr. Hart; Falstaff: Mr. Cartwright; Poyns: Mr. Shatterel.” ↩
Will Wayneman appears by this to have been forgiven for his theft (see ante). He was dismissed on July 8th, 1663. ↩
Meat cut crosswise and broiled was said to be carboned. Falstaff says in King Henry IV, Part L, act v, sc. 3, “Well, if Percy be alive, I’ll pierce him. If he do come in my way, so; if he do not, if I come in his willingly, let him make a carbonado of me.” ↩
The King dissolved the Convention Parliament on December 24th, 1660. The King’s and the Lord Chancellor’s speeches are printed in Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, pp. 170–78. ↩
The Trinity House was at Deptford. In 1671 the Corporation removed to Water Lane, and in 1795 to the present house on Tower Hill. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, acted at Whitehall in 1622, and published in 1647. It was revived in November, 1660. ↩
Downes does not give the cast of this play. After the Restoration the acting of female characters by women became common. The first English professional actress was Mrs. Coleman, who acted Ianthe in Davenant’s Siege of Rhodes, at Rutland House in 1656. ↩
Several of the Jewel Office rolls are in the British Museum. They recite all the sums of money given to the King, and the particulars of all the plate distributed in his name, as well as gloves and sweetmeats. The Museum possesses these rolls for the 4th, 9th, 18th, 30th, and 31st Eliz.; for the 13th Charles I; and the 23rd, 24th, 26th, and 27th of Charles II —B. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, first published in 1616. ↩
William Joyce, brother of Anthony, married Mary Fenner. ↩
Peter Beckford, who resided in Dr. Fuller’s neighbourhood. Mr. Beckford, of Maidenhead, tailor, left two sons, one of whom, Thomas, a clothworker, became Sheriff of London, and was knighted on the 29th December, 1677. He is the slop-seller mentioned post, February 21st, 1667–8. His brother, Peter Beckford, probably the person alluded to in January 1st, 1668–9, had a son of the same names, who rose to the rank of colonel in the army, having estates in Jamaica, and settling in that island. He became President of the Council there, in the latter part of Charles II’s reign; was made Governor and Commander-in-Chief by William III, and died (1710) immensely rich. Governor Beckford had a son of the same names, who was father of the well-known Alderman Beckford, and grandfather of the author of Vathek. There is a token of a Peter Beckford in Field Lane, “at the Guy of Worick,” see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 598. ↩
The Fables of Aesop Paraphrased in Verse by John Ogilby, London, 1665, a folio in vellum, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
The edition of Tully’s Offices in the Pepysian Library is dated 1699. ↩
“A great rising in the city of the Fifth-monarchy men, which did very much disturb the peace and liberty of the people, so that all the train-bands arose in arms, both in London and Westminster, as likewise all the king’s guards; and most of the noblemen mounted, and put all their servants on coach horses, for the defence of his Majesty, and the peace of his kingdom.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
The notorious Thomas Venner, the Fifth-monarchy man, a cooper and preacher to a conventicle in Swan Alley, Coleman Street, with a small following (about fifty in number) took arms on the 6th January for the avowed purpose of establishing the Millennium. He was a violent enthusiast, and persuaded his followers that they were invulnerable. After exciting much alarm in the City, and skirmishing with the Trained Bands, they marched to Caen Wood. They were driven out by a party of guards, but again entered the City, where they were overpowered by the Trained Bands. The men were brought to trial and condemned; four, however, were acquitted and two reprieved. The execution of some of these men is mentioned by Pepys under date January 19th and 21st. “A Relation of the Arraignment and Trial of those who made the late Rebellious Insurrections in London, 1661,” is reprinted in Somers’ Tracts, vol. vii (1812), p. 469. ↩
Ben Jonson’s comedy. Pepys mentions the play before under date June 6th, 1660. ↩
The Widow, a comedy by Ben Jonson, Fletcher, and Middleton, published in 1652. ↩
The Hoop was in Thames Street, near London Bridge. It is registered in the list of taverns in London and Westminster in 169S (Harl. MS. 4716). ↩
Venner retreated with his followers to Caen Wood (there were about fifty). The extent of Caen Wood must not be estimated by the small portion now surrounding Lord Mansfield’s mansion. ↩
In the list of taverns in London and Westminster and ten miles round in 1698 (Harl. MS. 4716), the taverns at Deptford are given as the Castle, Angel, Swan, King’s Head, and Red Lion. The Globe is not mentioned. ↩
And probably a relation, as Mary, daughter of Sir Henry Slingsby (cousin of the Comptroller) married Sir Walter Bethel, of Alne, Yorkshire. ↩
Burnt wine was somewhat similar to mulled wine, and a favourite drink. It is remembered by Bishop Corbet’s witty message to Ben Jonson. Burnt wine is mentioned by Dickens in Our Mutual Friend, book i, chap. xiii. ↩
Dick Shore, now Duck Shore, Limehouse, is a landing place or stairs at the narrow street end of Fore Street. It is not far from the great turn of the river southward, opposite to the Isle of Dogs. Dick’s-Shore, Fore Street, Limehouse, and Dick’s-Shore Alley by Dick’s Shore, are both mentioned in Dodsley’s London and Its Environs, vol. ii, p. 233, edit. 1761. ↩
Peter Pett. The great shipbuilding family of Pett was chiefly connected with the growth of the English navy from the reign of Henry VIII to that of William III, but as the Christian names of Peter and Phineas appear to have been favourites in the family, it is very difficult to distinguish between some of them, and great confusion has been the result. Amongst the original Fellows of the Royal Society are mentioned Peter Pett, Esq., and Sir Peter Pett. The former of these two was the Commissioner (see ante, note 442), and the latter was Advocate-General, and Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford. Peter Pett, Esq., was the fifth son of Phineas Pett, “Master Shipwright to James I,” and was born in 1610. It is frequently stated that he was knighted, but this appears to be incorrect. ↩
Christopher Pett was the eleventh child of Phineas Pett, “Master Shipwright to James I,” and was born May 14th, 1620. ↩
There was a Greyhound tavern in Tower Street, of which a token exists (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 777). Pepys may refer to that, or more probably to the Greyhound in Fleet Street, see November 12th, 1662. ↩
Thomas Venner and Roger Hodgkins were executed in Coleman Street; Giles Pritchard and William Oxman at the end of Wood Street. Others were executed in various parts of London. ↩
A tragicomedy, by Sir William Barclay, published in 1638. ↩
This document is in the British Museum, Add. MS. 11,602, and consists of twenty-two closely printed pages. It is entitled, “A Discourse touching the Past and Present State of the Navy, composed by that Ingenious Gentleman, Sir Robert Slingsby, Knt. and Baronet, Comptroller thereof.” —B. ↩
Mercer’s Hall and Chapel occupy the site of the ancient college or hospital of St. Thomas of Acon or Acres. These buildings were destroyed in the Great Fire, and rebuilt about 1672. ↩
Charles II established a Council of Trade “for keeping a control and superintendence upon the whole commerce of the nation” on November 7th, 1660. On December 1st of the same year he created a Council of Foreign Plantations. The two were united in 1672. The present Board of Trade was constituted in 1786. ↩
The Worthies of England was published in 1662. During the Commonwealth period Fuller made a visit to the Committee of Sequestrations sitting at Waltham in Essex, when they talked about his remarkable memory, and he agreed to give them an example. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I will give you an instance of my memory in the particular business in which you are employed. Your worships have thought fit to sequester an honest but poor cavalier parson, my neighbour, from his living, and committed him to prison. He has a large family of children, and his circumstances are but indifferent. If you will please to release him out of prison, and restore him to his living, I will never forget the kindness while I live.” ↩
Many years ago, but within my recollection, it was said that a former Public Orator of Cambridge, when in a similar difficulty, used to begin his sentence with “Verum enimvero.” —M. B. ↩
Martha Batten was the daughter of Sir William Batten, and is frequently mentioned in the Diary. She married Mr. Castle. ↩
Gresham College occupied the house of Sir Thomas Gresham, in Bishopsgate Street, from 1596, when Lady Gresham, Sir Thomas’s widow, died. The meeting which Pepys attended was an early one of the Royal Society, which was incorporated by royal charter in 1663. ↩
The seventh edition of Francis Osborn’s works, 8vo, 1673, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
Patriarchæ, sive Christi Genealogia, by Emmanuele Tesauro, published at London in 1651 and frequently reprinted. ↩
Algernon Percy, Earl of Northumberland, held the office of Lord High Admiral from March, 1637, to June, 1642. ↩
Richard Rooth, who commanded the Dartmouth—one of the ships which attended Charles II on his return to England from Scheveling. He was knighted March 9th, 1675. ↩
For a note on ribbons and garters at weddings, see note 156. ↩
“A Proclamation for the observation of the thirtieth of January as a day of Fast and Humiliation according to the late Act of Parliament for that purpose” is dated January 25th, 1660[–1661]. ↩
“The bodies of Oliver Cromwell, Henry Ireton, John Bradshaw, and Thomas Pride, were dug up out of their graves to be hanged at Tyburn, and buried under the gallows. Cromwell’s vault having been opened, the people crowded very much to see him.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
Henry Ireton (born 1610) married Bridget, eldest daughter of Oliver Cromwell, Jan. 15th, 1646–7. He was afterwards one of Charles I’s judges, and one of the committee who superintended his execution. Lord Deputy of Ireland, 1650. He died at the siege of Limerick, November 26th, 1651. ↩
Stubbes, speaking of the hats worn by the gentlemen of his day, says,
“As the fashions be rare and strange, so are the things whereof their hats be made, divers also; for some are of silk, some of velvet, some of taffety, some of sarcenet, some of wool, and which is more curious, some of a certain kind of fine hair … these they call bever hats, of xx, xxx or xl shillings price, fetched from beyond the sea.”
At Apothecaries’ Hall, where Davenant produced the first and second parts of The Siege of Rhodes. Downes says, in his Roscius Anglicanus, that Davenant’s company acted at “Pothecaries Hall” until the building in Lincoln’s Inn Fields was ready. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, first produced in 1623. ↩
Margaret, daughter of Sir William Water, an alderman of York. She was mother of the Comptroller, and widow of Sir Guildford Slingsby. ↩
The Great James was in Bishopsgate Without. It is registered in the list of London taverns in 1698 (Harl. MS. 4716). ↩
“Jan. 30th was kept as a very solemn day of fasting and prayer. This morning the carcasses of Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw (which the day before had been brought from the Red Lion Inn, Holborn), were drawn upon a sledge to Tyburn, and then taken out of their coffins, and in their shrouds hanged by the neck, until the going down of the sun. They were then cut down, their heads taken off, and their bodies buried in a grave made under the gallows. The coffin in which was the body of Cromwell was a very rich thing, very full of gilded hinges and nails.”
The timber purchased from Warren (see ante, December 29th, 1660), sent to Lynn to be conveyed to Hinchinbroke as the barge was, mentioned June 20th, 1660. ↩
A tragicomedy by Henry Glapthorne, founded on the story of the two lovers in Sydney’s Arcadia, and published in 1639. ↩
Sir Peter Ball, the Queen’s Attorney-General, and possessor of Brampton manor. ↩
This story relates to circumstances which had occurred many years previously. George, Lord Goring, was sent by Charles I as Ambassador Extraordinary to France in 1644, to witness the oath of Louis XIV to the observance of the treaties concluded with England by his father, Louis XIII, and his grandfather, Henry IV. Louis XIV took this oath at Ruel, on July 3rd, 1644, when he was not yet six years of age, and when his brother Philippe, then called Duke of Anjou, was not four years old. Shortly after his return home, Lord Goring was created, in September, 1644, Earl of Norwich, the title by which he is here mentioned. Philippe, Duke of Anjou, who was frightened by the English nobleman’s ugly faces, took the title of Duke of Orleans after the death of his uncle, Jean Baptiste Gaston, in 1660. He married his cousin, Henrietta of England. —B. ↩
Sir Philip Warwick, born 1608, secretary to Charles I when in the Isle of Wight, and Clerk of the Signet, to which place he was restored in 1660; knighted, and elected M.P. for Westminster. He was also Secretary to the Treasury under Lord Southampton till 1667. Died January 15th, 1682–3. He wrote A Discourse on Government and Memoirs of Charles I. His second wife, here mentioned, was Joan, daughter to Sir Henry Fanshawe, and widow of Sir William Botteler, Bart. ↩
Daniel Whistler, M.D., Fellow of Merton College, whose inaugural dissertation on Rickets in 1645 contains the earliest printed account of that disease. He was Gresham Professor of Geometry, 1648–57, and held several offices at the College of Physicians, being elected President in 1683. He was one of the original Fellows of the Royal Society. Dr. Munk, in his Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, speaks very unfavourably of Whistler, and says that he defrauded the college. He died May 11th, 1684. ↩
Thomas Wriothesley, fourth and last Earl of Southampton, K.G., born 1607. He was one of the four who bore Charles I to his burial. Burnet says, “he disdained to sell places.” He died May 16th, 1667. ↩
Salisbury Court Theatre, which was reopened in 1660 by Rhodes’s company. ↩
A tragicomedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, printed in the folio of 1647. ↩
“ ‘Telescope’ and ‘microscope’ are both as old as Milton, but for long while ‘perspective’ (glass being sometimes understood and sometimes expressed) did the work of these. It is sometimes written ‘prospective.’ Our present use of ‘perspective’ does not, I suppose, date farther back than Dryden.”
According to Downes’s Roscius Anglicanus the characters were taken as follows:—Elder Lovelace: Burt; Young Lovelace: Kynaston; Welford: Hart; Sir Roger: Lacy; The Lady: Mrs. Marshall; Martha: Mrs. Rutter; Abigail: Mrs. Corey. ↩
The observation of St. Valentine’s day is very ancient in this country. Shakespeare makes Ophelia sing
“Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window To be your Valentine.”
“A Proclamation for restraint of killing, dressing, and eating of Flesh in Lent or on fish-dayes appointed by the law to be observed,” was dated 29th January, 1660–61. ↩
A tragedy by Massinger and Decker, printed in 1622. ↩
More properly called “lustring”; a fine glossy silk. ↩
The Prince de Ligne had no niece, and probably Pepys has made some mistake in the name. Charles at one time made an offer of marriage to Mazarin’s niece, Hortense Mancini. ↩
Henry Slingsby, Master of the Mint of Kilpax, near Leeds, member of the first Council of the Royal Society, named in Charles II’s charter, dated April 22nd, 1663, but expelled from the Society January 24th, 1675. ↩
Peter Blondeau, medallist, was invited to London from Paris in 1649, and appointed by the Council of State to coin their money; but the moneyers succeeded in driving him out of the country. Soon after the Restoration he returned, and was appointed engineer to the mint. ↩
A comedy by Abraham Cowley, published in 1638. The scene was laid at Dunkirk. ↩
The harpsichord is an instrument larger than a spinet, with two or three strings to a note. ↩
Samuel Hartlib, son of a Polish merchant, and author of several ingenious works on agriculture, for which he received a pension from Cromwell. Milton’s Tractate of Education is addressed to him. Evelyn describes him in his Diary, November 27th, 1655, as “honest and learned,” and calls him “a public-spirited and ingenious person who had propagated many useful things and arts.” He lived in Axe Yard about 1661, and had a son named Samuel and a daughter, Nan, who married John Roder or Roth, afterwards knighted. Evelyn says that Claudius, referred to before (see July 10th, 1660, of this Diary), was Hartlib’s son-in-law. If so, Hartlib must have had another daughter. He seems to have been in some poverty at the end of his life. ↩
The Steelyard was situated where Cannon Street Station now stands. The Rhenish wine-house occupied the ground floors of the front in Thames Street. ↩
Thomas, Earl of Ossory, K.G., the accomplished son of the Duke of Ormond. Died 1680, aged forty-six. ↩
The Duke of York’s marriage took place September 3rd, 1660. Anne Hyde was contracted to the Duke at Breda, November 24th, 1659. ↩
A tragedy, by Thomas Middleton, acted before the court at Whitehall, January 4th, 1623–4. The plot is taken from a story in Reynolds’s God’s Revenge Against Murder, book i, hist. iv. ↩
Perhaps a letter of recommendation to some constituency. ↩
Randle Cotgrave’s valuable French and English Dictionary was first published in 1611, and several editions were subsequently issued. ↩
The cruel custom of throwing at cocks on Shrove Tuesday is of considerable antiquity. It is shown in the first print of Hogarth’s Four Stages of Cruelty. ↩
The Hampshire was a fourth-rate of thirty-eight guns, built at Deptford in 1653 by Phineas Pett. ↩
Massinger’s play, which was first published in 1624. ↩
Thomas Betterton, younger but eldest surviving son of Matthew Betterton of Westminster, said to be under-cook to Charles I, but who (writes Colonel Chester) described himself in his will as a “gentleman.” Thomas was baptized at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, August 11th, 1635. He joined the company of actors formed by Rhodes, bookseller (and formerly wardrobe keeper to the Blackfriars Company), which commenced to act at the Cockpit, in Drury Lane, in 1659. When, after the Restoration, Davenant took over Rhodes’s company, Betterton became his principal actor. Betterton died April 28th, 1710, and was buried in the East Cloister of Westminster Abbey on May 2nd. ↩
Sir Paul Neile, of White Waltham, Berks, son of Richard Neile, Archbishop of York (1632–40). A member of the first council of the Royal Society, and a constant attendant at the meetings. He was frequently the bearer of messages from Charles II. We learn from Birch’s History of the Royal Society, that on July 17th, 1661, “Sir Paul Neile having mentioned that the king had within four days past desired to have a reason assigned why the sensitive plants stir and contract themselves upon being touched, it was resolved that Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Clarke, Mr. Boyle, Mr. Evelyn, and Dr. Goddard be curators for examining the fact relating to these plants.” ↩
Love’s Mistress, or the Queen’s Masque, by Thomas Haywood, published in 1636. The plot is borrowed from the Golden Ass of Apuleius. ↩
Thomas Woodcock, afterwards ejected from St. Andrew’s Undershaft. ↩
This report of the death of Cardinal Mazarin appears to have been premature, for he did not die until the 9th of March, 1661. ↩
Charles XI, son of Charles (X) Gustavus. He succeeded his father in 1660. ↩
Wigg, a kind of north country bun or teacake, still so called, to my knowledge, in Staffordshire. —M. B. ↩
Alderman and Colonel of the red regiment of Trainbands. He was one of the Commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately. ↩
When Pepys saw this play on March 1st he called it by its second title The Queen’s Masque. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, acted before the court in 1611 by the King’s Players. ↩
Although Balthasar St. Michel, Mrs. Pepys’s brother, is frequently mentioned, there is no further notice of this lady in the Diary. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, acted before the court in 1622. ↩
Sir William Batten was elected M.P. for Rochester March 21st, 1660–61, and held the seat till his death, when he was succeeded by Richard Head, Alderman of Rochester, who was elected November 2nd, 1667. ↩
The Duke of Anjou became Duke of Orleans on the death of his uncle Gaston in 1660. ↩
Sir William Penn was well fitted to give this information, as it was he who took the island from the Spaniards in 1655. ↩
The four members elected for London were Alderman John Fowke, Alderman William Love, John Jones, and Alderman Sir William Thompson. ↩
The Red Bull was situated in St. John’s Street, Clerkenwell. ↩
Probably Argal Baron, of Croydon, Lieutenant-Governor of Windsor Castle, and said to have been a distinguished Royalist. —B. ↩
Zachary Crofton, born in Ireland. His first living was at Wrenbury, Cheshire, from which he was expelled in 1648 for refusing to take the Engagement. When he came to London he was for sometime minister of St. James’s, Garlickhithe, and then obtained the cure of St. Botolph, Aldgate, which he held till he was ejected for Nonconformity. He was said to be zealous for the Restoration, but he was committed to the Tower for defending the Solemn League and Covenant. In 1667 he opened a school near Aldgate. He was the author of several works, and died in 1672. ↩
Rollo, Duke of Normandy, a tragedy by John Fletcher, published in 1640. It was previously published in 1639 as The Bloody Brother. ↩
A Portuguese city on the Malabar or western coast of Hindostan. ↩
A comedy by John Fletcher, licensed October, 1624. ↩
The game was originally played in the road now styled Pall Mall, near St. James’s Square, but at the Restoration when sports came in fashion again the street was so much built over, that it became necessary to find another ground. The Mall in St. James’s Park was then laid out for the purpose. ↩
The Night Walker, or the Little Thief, a comedy by John Fletcher, acted at court in 1633. ↩
The proverb, “A hair of the dog that bit you,” which probably had originally a literal meaning, has long been used to inculcate the advice of the two Sir Williams. ↩
The play is not known otherwise than by this notice. ↩
A plan, with front and side elevations, of the Hill-house as it was in 1698, is in King’s MS. 43. The ground on which it stood is now included in the Marine Barracks. In the Memoirs of English Affairs, Chiefly Naval, from the Year 1660 to 1673, Written by James, Duke of York, there is a letter from James to the principal officers of the Navy (dated May 10th, 1661), in which he recommends that the lease of the Hill-house should be bought by them if it can be obtained at a reasonable rate, as the said house “is very convenient for the service of his Majesty’s Navy.” ↩
Kenrick Edisbury, Surveyer of the Navy, 1632–38. ↩
Rebecca, who married Henry Jowles, of Chatham, in 1662. Her father, John Allen, formerly Clerk of the Rope Yard at Chatham, is sometimes referred to as Mr. and sometimes as Captain Allen. Under the latter title he may be confused with Captain (afterwards Sir Thomas) Allen. ↩
The Prince (originally the Resolution) was a first-rate of eighty guns, built at Woolwich in 1641 by Capt. Phineas Pett, sen. It ran aground on the Galloper Sands, and Avas burnt by the Dutch, 1666. See post, June 7th, 1666. ↩
Traditions similar to that at Rochester, here alluded to, are to be found in other places in England. Sir Harry Englefield, in a communication made to the Society of Antiquaries, July 2nd, 1789, called attention to the curious popular tale preserved in the village of Hadstock, Essex, that the door of the church had been covered with the skin of a Danish pirate, who had plundered the church. At Worcester, likewise, it was asserted that the north doors of the cathedral had been covered with the skin of a person who had sacrilegiously robbed the high altar. The date of these doors appears to be the latter part of the fourteenth century, the north porch having been built about 1385. Dart, in his History of the Abbey Church of St. Peter’s, Westminster, 1723 (vol. i, book ii, p. 64), relates a like tradition then preserved in reference to a door, one of three which closed off a chamber from the south transept—namely, a certain building once known as the Chapel of Henry VIII, and used as a “Revestry.” This chamber, he states, “is enclosed with three doors, the inner cancellated, the middle, which is very thick, lined with skins like parchment, and driven full of nails. These skins, they by tradition tell us, were some skins of the Danes, tann’d and given here as a memorial of our delivery from them.” Portions of this supposed human skin were examined under the microscope by the late Mr. John Quekett of the Hunterian Museum, who ascertained, beyond question, that in each of the cases the skin was human. From a communication by the late Mr. Albert Way, F.S.A., to the late Lord Braybrooke. ↩
John Minnes (Mennes or Mennis), son of Andrew Minnes of Sandwich, born in that town March 1st, 1598, and educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, became afterwards a great traveller and noted seaman. He was knighted by Charles I at Dover in 1641, and in 1642 he was captain of the Rainbow. When the Earl of Warwick was nominated by the Parliament Lord High Admiral he refused to act under him. After the Restoration he was appointed Governor of Dover Castle, and his warrant from the Duke of York to act as Vice-Admiral and Commander-in-Chief in the Narrow Seas was dated May 18th, 1661. He was Comptroller of the Navy from 1661 till his death in 1671. He is buried in the church of St. Olave, Hart Street, where, in the south aisle, part of a monument to his memory is still to be seen. Wood describes him as an honest and stout man, generous and religious, well skilled in physic and chemistry. He was part-author of Musarum Deliciæ. ↩
Shooter’s Hill, Kent, between the eighth and ninth milestones on the Dover road. It was long a notorious haunt of highwaymen. The custom was to leave the bodies of criminals hanging until the bones fell to the ground. ↩
Matthew Wren, Bishop of Hereford, 1634–35; Bishop of Norwich, 1635–38; Bishop of Ely, 1638–67. He died April 24th, 1667, aged eighty-one. See note 562. ↩
Thomas Jacomb, of Burton Lazers, Leicestershire, entered at Magdalen Hall, Oxford, in 1640; but removing to Cambridge on the breaking out of the Rebellion, he obtained a Fellowship at Trinity College, in the place of a royalist ejected, and had the degree of M.A. conferred on him He afterwards became rector of St. Martin’s-infra-Ludgate, in London; and was put out for nonconformity in 1662, being then D.D. He subsequently followed the trade of conventicling, which brought him into trouble; and he died March 27th, 1687, in the house of the Countess of Exeter, to whom he was domestic chaplain. Abridged from Kennett’s Register. —B. ↩
Matthew Griffith, D.D., rector of St. Mary Magdalene, Old Fish Street, and preacher at the Temple. He was an Episcopalian, and author of several printed sermons. He died in 1665. —B. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward Radclyffe, of Dilston, Northumberland, and widow of Sir William Fenwick, Bart., of Meldon. Sir R. Slingsby’s first wife was Elizabeth, daughter and heir of Robert Brooke, of Newcells. —B. ↩
Sir Francis Anderson and Sir John Morley were elected for Newcastle-on-Tyne, April 10th, 1661. ↩
Four triumphal arches were raised in the City in honour of the Coronation. The first was at the Lime Street end of Leadenhall Street, where Rebellion and Monarchy were personated. The second near the Royal Exchange, where one representing the River Thames made an address. The third, representing the Temple of Concord, was placed on the site of Cheapside Cross. The fourth arch, representing Plenty, stood in Fleet Street, near Whitefriars. ↩
The old East India House in Leadenhall Street, which existed from 1648 to 1726, had figures of ships and dolphins on the upper part of the front. ↩
“Church stile” is in long hand, and not in cipher. In an old book of accounts belonging to Warrington Parish, the following minute occurs: “Nov. 5, 1688. Payd for drink at the Church-Steele, 13s.;” and in 1732, “it is ordered that hereafter no money be spent on ye 5th of November, or any other state day, on the parish account, either at the Church-Stile, or at any other place.” —Gent. Mag., November, 1852, p. 442. —B. ↩
A large number of Knights of the Bath were made at the Coronation. A list is given in Haydn’s Book of Dignities, by Ockerby, 1890, p. 763. ↩
Edward Hyde (Lord Hyde), Viscount Cornbury, and Earl of Clarendon; Arthur (Lord Capel), Viscount Malden, and Earl of Essex; Thomas (Lord Brudenell), Earl of Cardigan; Charles Howard, Lord Dacre, Viscount Howard of Morpeth, and Earl of Carlisle; Sir Arthur Annesley (Viscount Valentia), Lord Annersley, and Earl of Anglesea; Sir John Granville, Viscount Granville of Lansdowne, and Earl of Bath. ↩
John Crew, Baron Crew of Stene; Denzil Holles, Baron Holles of Ifield; Sir Frederic Cornwallis, Bart., Baron Cornwallis of Eye; Sir Horace Townshend, Bart., Baron Townshend of King’s Lynn (merged in the Marquisate); Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, Bart., Baron Ashley of Wimborne St. Giles (merged in the Earldom of Shaftesbury); Sir George Booth, Bart., Baron Delamere of Dunham Massey. ↩
The Cockpit at Whitehall, the residence of the Duke of Albemarle. ↩
The Humorous Lieutenant, a tragicomedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher. Published in the folio of 1647. ↩
Foreigners were workmen dwelling outside the city. ↩
The king in the early morning of the 22nd went from Whitehall to the Tower by water, so that he might proceed from thence through the City to Westminster Abbey, there to be crowned. ↩
The members of the Navy Office appear to have chosen Mr. Young’s house on account of its nearness to the second triumphal arch, situated near the Royal Exchange, which was dedicated to the Navy. ↩
John Carie and Sir Francis Lawley, two gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, represented the Dukes of Normandy and Aquitaine. ↩
Simon Wadlow was the original of “old Sir Simon the king,” the favourite air of Squire Western in Tom Jones.
“Hang up all the poor hop-drinkers, Cries old Sim, the king of skinkers.”
Ben Jonson, Verses over the door into the Apollo
The Simon Wadlow alluded to by Ben Jonson died March 30th, 1627. The Ashmolean Museum Catalogue mentions “Eight verses upon Simon Wadloe, Vintner, dwelling att ye sign of ye Devill and St. Dunstan,” commencing “Apollo et cohors musarum.” The Wadlow of Pepys was John, apparently the son of Simon. (See Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 766.) ↩
We do not see any reason for discrediting the statement that the whole of the Devil Tavern was pulled down in 1787, and of its having been purchased by Messrs. Child and Co. for the sum of £2,800, and in the year following the row of houses now known as Child’s Place was built upon the site. It may be worth recording that excellent cellars also run beneath the open space in front of those houses, as they were in all probability the cellars in which Simon Wadlow (the landlord at the sign of “St. Dunstan pulling the Devil by the nose,” commonly known as the “Old Devil”) kept his celebrated wines. The great room was called the Apollo. Here Jonson lorded it with greater authority than Dryden did afterwards at Will’s, or Addison at Button’s. Taken from Price’s ye Marigold. —M. B. ↩
This company is represented in the curious contemporary picture by Stoop, at Goodrich Court, Herefordshire. —B. ↩
Mum. Ale brewed with wheat at Brunswick.
“Sedulous and stout With bowls of fattening mum.”
J. Phillips, Cyder, Vol. ii p. 231
As soon as the beer begins to work, they put into it the inner rind of fir, tops of fir and birch, betony, marjory, pennyroyal, wild thyme, etc. Our English brewers use cardamom, ginger, and sassafras, instead of the inner rind of fir, and add also walnut rinds, madder, red sanders, and elecampane. —M. B. ↩
Mary, third daughter of Oliver Cromwell, and second wife of Thomas Bellasis, second Viscount Fauconberg, created Earl of Fauconberg, April 9th, 1689. ↩
Born at Dublin in 1615, created K.B. at the Coronation, and appointed Surveyor-General of all the King’s buildings; better known as the author of Cooper’s Hill. Died March, 1668–69, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
The Coronation chair in Westminster Abbey is an object of the greatest interest. Beneath the seat is the “Stone of Destiny,” carried oft from Scone by Edward I in 1296. ↩
A long sceptre or staff of gold, with a cross at the top, and a pike at the foot of steel, called St. Edward’s staff. There were two other sceptres. ↩
Mond or orb of gold, with a cross set with precious stones, carried by the Duke of Buckingham. ↩
Gilbert Sheldon, Bishop of London, acting for Juxon, Archbishop of Canterbury, whose age and infirmities prevented him from performing the whole of the service. Sheldon succeeded Juxon in the archbishopric when the latter died in 1663. ↩
As yet barons had no coronet. A grant of that outward mark of dignity was made to them by Charles soon after his coronation. Queen Elizabeth had assigned coronets to viscounts. —B. ↩
Sir Edward Walker, Garter King of Arms, who wrote an account of the Coronation, which was published from his MS. in 1820. ↩
Sir Frederick Cornwallis, Baronet, had been created a baron three days before the coronation. He was Treasurer of His Majesty’s Household, and a Privy Councillor. He had married Elizabeth, daughter of John Ashburnham. His wife, therefore, and her brother John Ashburnham, were first cousins to Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. Rugge states in July, 1660, that “the King supped with Sir Frederick Cornwallis at Durham Yard, in the Strand.” He died in January, 1661–62, and was buried with his ancestors at Brome, on the 18th. See post, January 16th, 1661–62. Collins and other writers erroneously state his death to have occurred on the 31st. The medals which he received as his fee (nearly one hundred in number) were carefully preserved in the family, and have been arranged, so as to form the setting of a large silver cup, at Audley End. —B. ↩
Pepys was himself one of the Barons of the Cinque Ports at the Coronation of James II. ↩
Algernon Percy, tenth earl of Northumberland, acting as Lord High Constable of England on this occasion. —B. ↩
James Howard, third Earl of Suffolk, acting as Earl Marshal of England. —B. ↩
James Butler, first Duke of Ormonde, Lord High Steward of England and bearer of the crown. ↩
Sir Edward Dymock, as Lord of the Manor of Scrivelsby, co. Lincoln. This service was last performed by one of that family at the coronation of George IV, and with the coronation dinner has since been dispensed with. —B. ↩
York Herald, George Owen, who, it will be seen, rescued the canopy from the valetaille. —B. ↩
The terms of the Champion’s challenge were as follows: “If any person of what degree soever, high or low, shall deny or gainsay our Sovereign Lord King Charles the Second, King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, defender of the faith, Sonne and next heire to our Sovereign Lord Charles the First, the last King deceased, to be right heire to the Imperiall Crown of this Realme of England, or that bee ought not to enjoy the same; here is his champion, who sayth that he lyeth and is a false Traitor, being ready in person to combate with him, and in this quarrell will venture his life against him, on what day soever hee shall be appointed.” ↩
See some congratulatory lines, “On the Thunder happening after the Solemnity of the Coronation of Charles II,” by Henry Bold, of New College, Oxford, in the Somers Tracts, ed. 1817, vol. vii p. 514. They commence thus:
“Heavens! we thank you that you thundered so! As we did here, you cannonado’d too.”
Baxter, in his Life, mentions this storm. “On April 23, was His Majesty’s coronation-day, the day being very serene and fair, till suddenly in the afternoon, as they were returning from Westminster Hall, there was very terrible thunders when none expected it, which made me remember his father’s coronation, on which, being a boy at school, and having leave to play for the solemnity, an earthquake, about two o’clock in the afternoon, did affright the boys, and all the neighbourhood. I intend no commentary on these, but only to relate the matter of fact.” —B. ↩
Bishop Kennett gives a somewhat fuller account of this unseemly broil: “No sooner had the aforesaid Barons brought up the King to the foot of the stairs in Westminster Hall, ascending to his throne, and turned on the left hand (towards their own table) out of the way, but the King’s footmen most insolently and violently seized upon the canopy, which the Barons endeavouring to keep and defend, were by their number and strength dragged down to the lower end of the Hall, nevertheless still keeping their hold; and had not Mr. Owen York Herald, being accidentally near the Hall door, and seeing the contest, caused the same to be shut, the footmen had certainly carried it away by force. But in the interim also (speedy notice hereof having been given the King) one of the Querries were sent from him, with command to imprison the footmen, and dismiss them out of his service, which put an end to the present disturbance. These footmen were also commanded to make their submission to the Court of Claims, which was accordingly done by them the 30th April following, and the canopy then delivered back to the said Barons.” Whilst this disturbance happened, the upper end of the first table, which had been appointed for the Barons of the Cinque Ports, was taken up by the Bishops, judges, etc., probably nothing loth to take precedence of them; and the poor Barons, naturally unwilling to lose their dinner, were necessitated to eat it at the bottom of the second table, below the Masters of Chancery and others of the long robe. —B. ↩
Sir Robert Pye, Bart., of Faringdon House, Berks; married Anne, daughter of the celebrated John Hampden. They lived together sixty years, and died in 1701, within a few weeks of each other. ↩
John Glynne (born 1602) had been Recorder of London (1643); and during the Protectorate, Chief Justice of the Upper Bench (1655); nevertheless, he acted with considerable adroitness at the time of the Restoration, and was in consequence knighted and appointed King’s Serjeant, and his son created a baronet. He died November 15th, 1666. ↩
John Maynard, the eminent lawyer; M.P. for Totnes, 1640; made Serjeant to Cromwell in 1653, and afterwards King’s Serjeant by Charles II, who knighted him. In 1661 he was chosen burgess for Berealston, and sat in every Parliament till the Revolution, for that Borough, or Plymouth. It was he who made one of the most famous of legal jokes. William III, in allusion to his age, having said that he must have outlived most of the judges and lawyers of his own standing, Maynard answered, “And I had like to have outlived the law itself if your Highness had not come over.” In March, 1689, he was appointed one of the Commissioners of the Great Seal; and, soon resigning from infirmity, died October 9th, 1690, aged eighty-eight. The popular feeling respecting Glynne and Maynard was echoed by Butler, who wrote:
“Did not the learned Glynne and Maynard To make good subjects traitors strain hard?”
Chocolate was introduced into England about the year 1652. In the Public Advertiser of Tuesday, June 16–22, 1657, we find the following: “In Bishopsgate Street in Queen’s Head Alley, at a Frenchman’s house, is an excellent West India drink called chocolate, to be sold, where you may have it ready at any time, and also unmade at reasonable rates.” —M. B. ↩
There are several tokens of the King’s Head in Tower Street. One of these of Thomas Mills is dated 1666, see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 772). ↩
The Chances, a comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, published in the folio of 1647. Revived at this time. ↩
Elizabeth Walpole of Broomsthorpe, married to Edward Pepys, who died December 22nd, 1663. She died in 1669. ↩
Godalming, Surrey. It has been supposed that Godliman Street in London obtained its name from the sale of leather prepared at Godalming. ↩
It was an established custom for all classes to go a-maying in Hyde Park. The practice was for a time discontinued during the Commonwealth, but about 1654 it was revived, to the disgust of the Puritans. ↩
The Montagu (formerly the Lime) was a third-rate of fifty-two guns, built at Portsmouth in 1654 by Mr. Tippetts. ↩
The house wherein the murder was committed in August, 1628, is situated at the upper end of the High Street, at Portsmouth, and a portion still remains. A representation of the front of the house is given in Brayley’s Graphic Illustrator, p. 240. —B. ↩
A Red Lion still exists in High Street, at the corner of Market Street, but it is no longer the best inn in the town. ↩
Archbishop Abbot’s Hospital, on the north side of the High Street, Guildford, was founded in 1619. The Grammar School, at the upper end of High Street, dates from the reign of Henry VIII. ↩
Charles Stuart, Duke of Cambridge, born October 22nd, 1660, died May 5th, 1661. He was the first of eight children by Anne Hyde. —B. ↩
Frank Perkin. Jane, youngest sister of Pepys’s father, married J. Perkin. ↩
Edward, second Earl of Manchester, appointed to this office on June 1st, 1660. ↩
“Whatever the Swans may have done in the City, The Swan here in King Street has sung her last Ditty,”
from The Search After Claret, or a Visitation of the Vintners, a poem in two cantos, printed for E. Hawkins, London, February 24th, 1691. ↩
The popular taste was formerly for sweet wines, and sugar was frequently mixed with the wine. ↩
The text meant is Job 14:14, “All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come.” —B. ↩
Richard Hutchinson, Treasurer for the Navy from 1651. He was succeeded by Sir George Carteret in 1660. ↩
By Beaumont and Fletcher. Acted at court in 1613. After the Restoration, Mohun played Melantius; Hart, Amintor; and Mrs. Marshall, Evadne. ↩
The dangers of shooting the bridge were so great that a popular proverb has it—“London Bridge was made for wise men to go over and fools to go under.” ↩
The Courts of Chancery and King’s Bench were long held at the upper end of the hall. It is related that Sir Thomas More every day, before presiding in his own Court of Chancery, knelt for the blessing of his aged father, who was a judge of the King’s Bench. ↩
York House belonged to the See of York, but appears to have been let to the Lord Keepers of the Great Seal, and Chancellors Egerton and Bacon resided there. It was obtained by James I in 1624, after which it was granted to Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. The second duke obtained the house again by his marriage to the daughter of Lord Fairfax. He sold it in 1672, when it was pulled down, and streets built on the site which still bear his names. ↩
The Baron de Batteville, or Vatteville, who is said to have concealed much observant quickness and an intriguing spirit under a plain, rough, solderlike frankness of demeanour. He was very active in opposition to the proposed marriage of Charles II with the Infanta of Portugal. ↩
Christopher Gibbons, Mus. Doct. Oxon. (1664), second son of the more celebrated Dr. Orlando Gibbons (who died in 1625). Born 1615. He was appointed organist to Westminster Abbey, 1660, and composed several anthems. He died October 20th, 1676, and is buried in the cloisters of the Abbey. ↩
The Victualling Office was spoken of as on Tower Hill, but it was really at the end of East Smith field, and occupied the site of East Minster the Cistercian Abbey of St. Mary Graces. The Cooperage, a portion of the Victualling Office, was burnt May 18th, 1688. ↩
Dr. William Bates, one of the most eminent of the Puritan divines, and who took part in the Savoy Conference. His collected writings were published in 1700, and fill a large folio volume. The Dissenters called him silver-tongued Bates. Calamy affirmed that if Bates would have conformed to the Established Church he might have been raised to any bishopric in the kingdom. He died in 1699, aged seventy-four. ↩
Pepys here refers to the perambulation of parishes on Holy Thursday, still observed. This ceremony was sometimes enlivened by whipping the boys, for the better impressing on their minds the remembrance of the day, and the boundaries of the parish, instead of beating houses or stones. But this would not have harmonized well with the excellent Hooker’s practice on this day, when he “always dropped some loving and facetious observations, to be remembered against the next year, especially by the boys and young people.” Amongst Dorsetshire customs, it seems that, in perambulating a manor or parish, a boy is tossed into a stream, if that be the boundary; if a hedge, a sapling from it is applied for the purpose of flagellation. —B. ↩
Alexander Burnett, M.D., who resided in Fenchurch Street, was Pepys’s regular medical attendant. He died of the plague, see post August 25th, 1665. ↩
The Leg tavern in King Street, Westminster. See note 278. ↩
It was an act for subscribing the Engagement. On the same day there had been burned by the hangman, in Westminster Hall, the act for “erecting an High Court of Justice for trying and judging Charles Stuart.” Two more acts were similarly burned the next day. —B. ↩
John Holcraft of Balderton married Mary Pepys (born 1597), sister of Samuel’s father. This John Holcraft was probably their son. ↩
Jonathan Radcliff, A.M., Vicar of Walthamstow from November, 1660, to December, 1662. ↩
This text is from 2 Samuel 19:30, and the true reading is—“And Mephibosheth said unto the king, Yea, let him take all, forasmuch as my lord the king is come again in peace unto his own house.” ↩
The wife of Captain, afterwards Sir Joseph Jordan. —B. ↩
Robert Shipman bought the great tithes of Walthamstow from the Argall family in 1663; and left them by will to his wife Dorothy, from whom they passed in 1667 to Robert Mascall, merchant. —Lysons’ Environs of London↩
Arundel House, in the Strand, was the repository of the fine collection of works of art gathered by Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel. Arundel Street, which stands on the site, was built in 1678. ↩
A Bill for the Repeal of “An Act of Parliament intituled an Act for disenabling all persons in holy orders to exercise any temporal jurisdiction or authority,” was read a first time in the Commons on June 1st, and a third time on 13th. In the Lords it was read a first time on the 14th, and finally passed on the 18th. ↩
It will be seen from an entry further on (August 31st) that the Benevolence brought in very little. ↩
Walter Montagu, second son to the first Earl of Manchester, embracing the Romish faith while on his travels, was made Abbot of Pontoise, through the influence of Mary de Medici. He afterwards became almoner to the Queen-Dowager of England, and died 1670. —B. ↩
The earldom of Kent was erected for the Grey family in 1465; that of Bedford for the Russells, in 1550. Lord Bedford was probably Francis, second earl, and Lord Grey may have been either Reginald, fifth earl, or Henry, sixth earl. ↩
“Botarga. The roe of the mullet pressed flat and dried; that of commerce, however, is from the tunny, a large fish of passage which is common in the Mediterranean. The best kind comes from Tunis.”
Smyth’s Sailor’s Word-Book
Botargo was chiefly used to promote drinking by causing thirst, and Rabelais makes Gargantua eat it. ↩
A comedy, by Ben Jonson; first acted at the Hope theatre, Bankside, October 31st, 1614. ↩
Murray and Heath, whose authority is generally good, assert that James Hamilton was at this time Bishop of Galloway; but the commission for his consecration bears date December 12th, 1661. Kennett also mentions Thomas Sydserf, who had been deposed from the see of Galloway by the Presbyterians in 1638, as the only Scotch prelate alive at the Restoration; and adds, that he came up to London, expecting to be advanced to the primacy. But he had so disgusted the English bishops, that he was only removed to the See of Orkney, which, though richly endowed, was considered at all times as a sinecure; and he did not long survive his translation. At all events, Hamilton was his successor, and the Bishop of Galloway mentioned in the Diary, May 15th, 1663. Lingard’s testimony is in favour of Sydserf being the Bishop of Galloway here alluded to. The death of the Bishop of Orkney (late of Galloway) is mentioned in The Intelligencer, September 29th, 1663. —B. ↩
The reading in the early editions of the Diary is, “a person formerly of the fleet;” in the later editions, “a parson formerly of the Fleet.” The cipher for “person” or “parson” is the same. I have preferred the reading of the early editions, merely correcting “of” to “in,” for two reasons—one, because the marriages were performed by clergymen, though disreputable, who would not require fresh ordination; the other because, although there were Fleet marriages at that time, yet they do not seem to be common. The date of the earliest Fleet register now preserved in the Bishop of London’s Registry is 1674. —M. B. ↩
Katherine of Braganza, daughter of John IV of Portugal, born 1638, married to Charles II, May 21st, 1662. After the death of the king she lived for some time at Somerset House, and then returned to Portugal, of which country she became Regent in 1704 on the retirement of her brother Don Pedro. She died December 31st, 1705. ↩
Lionel Walden, elected M.P. for the borough of Huntingdon, April 12th, 1661. ↩
A Form of Prayer was published to be used in London on the 12th, and in the country on the 19th of June, being the special days appointed for a general fast to be kept in the respective places for averting those sicknesses and diseases, that dearth and scarcity, which justly may be feared from the late immoderate rain and waters: for a thanksgiving also for the blessed change of weather; and the begging the continuance of it to us for our comfort: And likewise for beseeching a Blessing upon the High Court of Parliament now assembled: Set forth by his Majesty’s authority. A sermon was preached before the Commons by Thomas Greenfield, preacher of Lincoln’s Inn. The Lords taxed themselves for the poor—an earl, 30s., a baron, 20s. Those absent from prayers were to pay a forfeit. —B. ↩
Perhaps the same person who had been envoy from the Protector to the King of Sweden, and is described by Kennet, in September, 1655, as kinsman to his Highness. —B. ↩
Robin Shaw, manager of Backwell’s business, who died July 25th, 1665. ↩
Theodore Goodgroome, Pepys’s singing-master. He was probably related to John Goodgroome, a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, who is also referred to in the Diary. ↩
“La Cruda la bella” does not appear to have been printed. ↩
The Maypole in the Strand was fixed on the site of the present church of St. Mary-le-Strand. It was taken away in 1718. ↩
The edition of Richard Hooker’s great work, Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Politic, in the Pepysian Library, is dated 1666. ↩
It appears, from an old MS. account-book of the collections in the church of St. Olave, Hart Street, beginning in 1642, still extant, that the money gathered on the 30th June, 1661, “for several inhabitants of the parish of St. Dunstan in the West towards their losse by fire,” amounted to “xx s. viii d.” Pepys might complain of the trade in briefs, as similar contributions had been levied fourteen weeks successively, previous to the one in question at St. Olave’s church. Briefs were abolished in 1828. —B. ↩
This clashes with the statement of Downes, who says that his company being complete, Davenant opened his house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields with the two parts of the Siege of Rhodes, in the spring of 1662. Messrs. Maidment and Logan, in their edition of Davenant’s Dramatic Works, state that this performance was at Salisbury Court. ↩
Davenant’s opera of the Siege of Rhodes was published in 1656. The author afterwards wrote a second part, which Pepys saw. The two parts, as altered, and as acted at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, were published in 1663. ↩
Duck Lane was largely inhabited by booksellers. It is now renamed Little Britain. ↩
A tragicomedy, by Thomas Killigrew, first published in 1641. ↩
Robert Pepys, of Brampton, who died on the following day. ↩
Talbot Pepys, sixth son of John Pepys of Impington, was born 1583, and therefore at this time he was seventy-eight years of age. He was educated at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, and called to the bar at the Middle Temple in 1605. He was M.P. for Cambridge in 1625, and Recorder of Cambridge from 1624 to 1660, in which year he was succeeded by his son Roger. He died of the plague, March, 1666, aged eighty-three. ↩
Gravely is in Cambridgeshire, although it is contiguous to Hunts. ↩
William Stankes, bailiff of Robert Pepys’s land. ↩
Sir Robert Bernard, Sergeant-at-Law, of Huntingdon, created baronet 1662, and died 1666. His second wife, here mentioned, was Elizabeth, relict of George, Lord Digby, died January, 1662. —B. ↩
There is a monument to “Jasper Trice, gent.,” in Brampton Church, Hunts, from which it appears that he died October 27th, 1675. He is referred to on March 8th, 1659–60, as “Jasper” without a surname. Apparently he was brother of Tom Trice. ↩
Biggleswade, the largest town in Bedfordshire after Bedford. ↩
Hatfield or Bishop’s Hatfield, Herts. In 1109, when the abbey of Ely was erected into a bishopric, Hatfield became an episcopal residence, and a sumptuous palace was built there. In 1538 the manor was conveyed to Henry VIII by Thomas Goodrich, Bishop of Ely, in exchange for lands in Cambridge, Essex, and Norfolk, and the palace became a royal abode. James I in 1607 exchanged it with Lord Salisbury for Theobalds, and built a new mansion for his minister, who died the year after it was finished. The inn mentioned by Pepys was the Salisbury Arms. The vineyard is still carefully kept, and is one of the last of its age existing. William Cecil, second Earl of Salisbury, succeeded his father in 1612, and died December 3rd, 1668. ↩
Brennoralt, or the Discontented Colonel, a tragedy, by Sir John Suckling. Written about 1639, and first published in Suckling’s Works, 1646. ↩
The Jovial Crew, or the Merry Beggars, a comedy, by Richard Brome, acted at the Cockpit, Drury Lane, in 1641. ↩
When the Savoy Conference ended, the Royal Commission having expired on that day. —B. ↩
George Digby, second Earl of Bristol. Died March 20th, 1678. ↩
Lady Jemima Montagu and Lady Paulina Montagu, daughters of the Earl of Sandwich. ↩
Margaret Penn, only daughter of Sir William Penn, was married to Anthony Lowther, of Marske, North Riding, in February, 1666–67. ↩
John, second Lord Robartes, created Viscount Bodmin and Earl of Radnor in July, 1679. At the Restoration William Viscount Say and Sele was appointed Lord Privy Seal, but he was succeeded in May, 1661, by Lord Robartes, who held the office until April, 1673. Lord Radnor died July 17th, 1685. ↩
Humphry Madge, musician in ordinary to the King, and one of the twenty-four violins under Grebus’s leadership (see note 2017). ↩
Mr. Pierce did not die at this time, and is mentioned in the Diary on September 18th, 1665. ↩
The Signet and Privy Seal office was situated in what is now Whitehall Yard, a little north of the site of the United Service Institution. ↩
A comedy acted at the Globe, and first printed in 1608. In the original entry in the Stationers’ books it is said to be by T. B., which may stand for Tony or Anthony Brewer. The play has been attributed without authority both to Shakespeare and to Drayton. ↩
The old parish church of St. James the Less, Clerkenwell, was pulled down in 1788, and the first stone of the present church was laid on December 16th of that year. The church was completed in 1792. ↩
Hon. Sidney Montagu assumed the name of Wortley, and was father of Edward Wortley Montagu (husband of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu). He died in 1727 (see note 1639). ↩
Thomas Pepys of London, next brother to Robert Pepys of Brampton, His two sons were Thomas and Charles. ↩
So of the Emperor Claudius:
“Dabitur mora parvula dum res Nota urbi et populo contingat Principis aures. Dedecus ille domus sciet ultimus.”
A comedy, by Sir W. Davenant, licensed in January, 1633–34. ↩
Sir Heneage Finch, the Solicitor-General, was treasurer of the Inner Temple, and was selected as autumn reader, when he revived the splendid festivities which had long been discontinued. ↩
Dr. Thomas Fuller, who died on this day, was buried at Cranford, Middlesex, by his patron, Lord Berkeley. Dr. Hardy, Dean of Rochester, preached his funeral sermon. —Smyth’s Obituary, p. 54 ↩
Matthew Nicholas, LL.D., installed Dean of St. Paul’s, July, 1660. Died August 14th, 1661, and was buried at Winterbourn-Erles, Wilts. He was brother to Sir Edward Nicholas, Secretary of State. ↩
William, first Earl of Craven, eldest son of Sir William Craven, born 1606. Knighted by Charles I in 1627, and a few days later created Baron Craven of Hampstead Marshall, Berks. He was rich, and aided the king with money; but in 1649 his estates were confiscated. He recovered them at the Restoration, and in 1664 he was created Earl of Craven. High Steward of the University of Cambridge, 1667, and Master of the Trinity House, 1670–71. He was a devoted adherent of the Queen of Bohemia, and was supposed to be married to her, but there is no direct evidence of such marriage. He died April 9th, 1697. ↩
This “thing” was probably one of those large grants which Clarendon quietly, or, as he himself says, “without noise or scandal,” procured from the king. Besides lands and manors, Clarendon states at one time that the king gave him a “little billet into his hand, that contained a warrant of his own handwriting to Sir Stephen Fox to pay to the Chancellor the sum of £20,000 of which nobody could have notice.” In 1662 he received £5,000 out of the money voted to the king by the Parliament of Ireland, as he mentions in his vindication of himself against the impeachment of the Commons; and we shall see that Pepys, in February, 1664, names another sum of £20,000 given to the Chancellor to clear the mortgage upon Clarendon Park; and this last sum, it was believed, was paid from the money received from France by the sale of Dunkirk. —B. ↩
The Lord Privy Seal was John, Lord Robartes, and his house stood at the corner of Paradise Row and Robinson’s Lane. Lord Robartes was created Earl of Radnor in 1679, and one of the streets in the neighbourhood of his house is called Radnor Street. ↩
Houses at Chelsea situated on the low ground on the banks of the Thames. The church of St. Gabriel’s, Pimlico, marks the site. ↩
Alphonso, son of Robert Marsh, one of the musicians in ordinary to Charles I, baptized at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, January 28th, 1627. ↩
Sir William Davenant introduced the use of scenery. The character of Hamlet was one of Betterton’s masterpieces. Downes tells us that he was taught by Davenant how the part was acted by Taylor of the Blackfriars, who was instructed by Shakespeare himself. ↩
A comedy, by Richard Brome, first acted at Salisbury Court, 1638, and published in 1640. ↩
This Three Cranes tavern was situated in the Poultry. There is a token of George Twine, dated 1665 (see Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 704). ↩
The Jovial Crew, or the Merry Beggars, a comedy, by Richard Brome, first acted at the Cockpit, Drury Lane, in 1641. Published in 1652. ↩
The French comedians acted at the Cockpit. The Theatre Royal on the site of the present Drury Lane Theatre was not built till 1663. ↩
Lord John Somerset, second son of the first Marquis of Worcester, had himself three sons, Henry, Thomas, and Charles, but it is uncertain which is here meant. There was no other Lord Somerset to whom the passage could apply. It was probably Thomas, as the other brothers were married. —B. ↩
A voluntary contribution made by the subjects to their sovereign. Upon this occasion the clergy alone gave £33,743. See May 31st, 1661. —B. ↩
Lady Katherine Montagu, youngest daughter of Lord Sandwich, married, first, Nicholas Bacon, eldest son and heir of Sir Nicholas Bacon, K.B., of Shrubland Hall, co. Suffolk; and, secondly, the Rev. Balthazar Gardeman. She died January 15th, 1757, at ninety-six years, four months. —B. ↩
A comedy, by John Fletcher, acted at the Blackfriars. It was published first in 1637. ↩
Admiral Sir George Ayscue, knighted by Charles I, but appointed Admiral of the Fleet in the Irish Seas in 1649 “for his fidelity and good affection to the Parliament.” Vice-Admiral of the Blue Squadron under the Duke of York in the action with the Dutch fleet on June 3rd, 1665, and Admiral of the White under Prince Rupert and the Duke of Albemarle in 1666, when he was taken prisoner by the Dutch (see Diary, June 7th, 1666). ↩
Sir Theophilus Jones had represented the county of Dublin in parliament, and served as a colonel in the Commonwealth army. —B. ↩
Dorothy or Doll did not stay long, for on November 27th we find that Mrs. Pepys parted with her. ↩
A tragedy, by John Ford, acted at the Phoenix, Drury Lane, and printed 1633. ↩
Pepys seldom liked any play of Shakespeare’s, and he sadly blundered when he supposed Twelfth Night was a new play. ↩
“Two long boats that were made in Venice, called gondolas, were by the Duke of Venice (Dominico Contareni) presented to His Majesty; and the attending watermen, being four, were in very rich clothes, crimson satin; very big were their breeches and doublets; they wore also very large shirts of the same satin, very richly laced.”
The manorial court of Graveley, in Huntingdonshire, to which Impington owed suit or service, and under which the Pepys’s copyhold estates were held. See July 8th, 1661, ante. —B. ↩
Puckeridge, a village in Hertfordshire six and a half miles N.N.E., of Ware. ↩
Sturbridge fair is of great antiquity. The first trace of it is found in a charter granted about 1211 by King John to the Lepers of the Hospital of St. Mary Magdalen at Sturbridge by Cambridge, a fair to be held in the close of the hospital on the vigil and feast of the Holy Cross (see Cornelius Walford’s Fairs Past and Present, 1883, p. 54). ↩
To Robert Pepys of Brampton, his eldest brother. ↩
Bugden, or Buckden, a village and parish in the St. Neots district of Huntingdonshire, four miles S.W. of Huntingdon. ↩
The Mews stood on the site of the present National Gallery. The place was originally occupied by the king’s falcons, but in the reign of Henry VIII it was turned into a stable. After the battle of Naseby it was used as a prison for a time. The Mews was rebuilt in 1732, and taken down in 1830. ↩
Pepys saw this play acted well on March 14th, 1660–61. ↩
Richard Country, captain of the Hind, a vessel of six guns and thirty-five men, in the fleet at Scheveling. ↩
The antiquity of the cultivation of the melon is very remote. Both the melon (cucumis melo) and the watermelon (cucumis citrullus) were introduced into England at the end of the sixteenth century. See vol. i, p. 228. ↩
The only mention of this piece occurs in a MS. list of plays belonging to Will. Beeston, as governor of the Cockpit, in Drury Lane, preserved in the Lord Chamberlain’s office. The list is dated August 10th, 1639. Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps states that a small portion of the piece formed into a droll under the title of “The Doctors of Dullhead College,” is printed in the Wits, or Sport Upon Sport, 1672. ↩
George Penn, elder brother of Sir William, was a merchant at San Lucar. ↩
The Red Lion in King Street is not mentioned in the List of Taverns in London and Westminster in 1698 (Harl. MS. 4716). ↩
The Baron de Batteville, or, as is more often written, Vatteville. See ante, note 1067. ↩
Godefroi, Comte d’Estrades, Marshal of France, and Viceroy of America. He proved himself, upon many occasions, an able diplomatist, and particularly at the conferences of Nimeguen when acting as plenipotentiary in 1678. Died February 26th, 1686, aged seventy-nine. ↩
This had been a frequent source of contention, and many absurd incidents had occurred. In 1618, Caspar Dauvet, Comte des Marets, ambassador to James I, left our court in dissatisfaction upon a point of precedence claimed by him over Gondomar, which was not allowed by James. The question now came to a crisis, and was settled. See Evelyn’s account, drawn up by royal command, printed at the end of his Diary. —B. ↩
The Comte de Brienne insinuates, in his Memoirs, that Charles purposely abstained from interfering, in the belief that it was for his interest to let France and Spain quarrel, in order to further his own designs in the match with Portugal. Louis certainly held that opinion; and he afterwards instructed D’Estrades to solicit from the English court the punishment of those Londoners who had insulted his ambassador, and to demand the dismissal of De Batteville. Either no Londoner had interfered, or Louis’s demand had not in England the same force as in Spain; for no one was punished. The latter part of his request it was clearly not for Charles to entertain, much less enforce. —B. ↩
This fray was the occasion of a good joke at the French court, thus related in the Menagiana, vol. ii, p. 336:—“Lors qu’on demandoit, ‘Que fait Batteville en Angleterre?’ on repondoit, ‘Ill bat L’Estrade.’” This expression, as is well known, means “battre la campagne avec de la cavalerie pour avoir des nouvelles des ennemis.” —Chambaud’s Dictionary —B. ↩
The French accounts swell the number of the Spanish ambassador’s attendants to two thousand; two hundred would, perhaps, be the truth. —B. ↩
This place so often mentioned, was first given up to the English fleet under Lord Sandwich, by the Portuguese, January 30th, 1662; and Lord Peterborough left governor, with a garrison. The greatest pains were afterwards taken to preserve the fortress, and a fine mole was constructed at a vast expense, to improve the harbour. At length, after immense sums of money had been wasted there, the House of Commons expressed a dislike to the management of the garrison, which they suspected to be a nursery for a popish army, and seemed disinclined to maintain it any longer. The king consequently, in 1683, sent Lord Dartmouth to bring home the troops, and destroy the works; which he performed so effectually, that it would puzzle all our engineers to restore the harbour. It were idle to speculate on the benefits which might have accrued to England, by its preservation and retention; Tangier fell into the hands of the Moors, its importance having ceased, with the demolition of the mole. Many curious views of Tangier were taken by Hollar, during its occupation by the English; and his drawings are preserved in the British Museum. Some have been engraved by himself; but the impressions are of considerable rarity. —B. ↩
The White Devil; or, the Tragedy of Paulo Giordano Ursini, Duke of Brachiano, with the Life and Death of Vittoria Corombona the Famous Venetian Courtesan, by John Webster. Acted at the Phoenix, in Drury Lane, and first printed in 1612. ↩
The courier sent by D’Estrades to Paris, with the news of his discomfiture, arrived at the hotel of the Comte de Brienne (Louis-Henri de Lomenie, who had succeeded his father, Henri-Auguste, as Secretary of State) at eleven at night. Brienne instantly repaired to the king, then at supper with the queen-mother, his own queen, and his brother, Philippe of Anjou (Monsieur); and, requesting Louis to appear composed before the numerous spectators, he told him that the Spanish ambassadors people had cut the traces of his ambassador’s coach, killed two coachmen, and cut the horses’ bridles; and that the Spanish ambassador’s coach had taken precedence of that of D’Estrades, whose own son had also been wounded in the affray. In spite of the caution which he had received, Louis rose up in such agitation, as nearly to overturn the table; seized Brienne by the arm, led him into the queen-mother’s chamber, and bade him read D’Estrade’s despatch. The queen-mother followed in haste. “What is the matter?” said she. “It is,” replied the king, “an attempt to embroil the King of Spain and myself.” The queen-mother begged him to return to the company. “I have supped, madam,” said he, raising his voice. “I will be righted in this affair, or I will declare war against the King of Spain; and I will force him to yield precedence to my ambassadors in every court in Europe.” “Oh, my son!” replied the queen-mother, “break not a peace which has cost me so dear; and remember, that the King of Spain is my brother.” “Leave me, madam,” rejoined Louis, “to hear D’Estrade’s despatch. Return to the table, and let some fruit only be prepared for me.” Anne of Austria having retired, Louis listened to the despatch, and instantly gave his commands to Brienne; which were, in substance, to order the Conde de Fuensaldagna, the Spanish ambassador, to quit France instantly, and to forbid the Marques de las Fuentes, his intended successor, to set foot on the French territory—to recall his commissioners on the boundary question, as well as the Archbishop of Embrun, his ambassador at Madrid—to demand from the King of Spain an apology proportionable to the offence; that De Batteville should be punished in person; and that in all the courts of Europe the Spanish ambassador should give place to the French; and, on the refusal of any part of his demands, to declare war. Louis gained all and every point. After much paper war, and many protocols, Spain gave way. The Baron de Batteville was recalled; the Marques de las Fuentes was sent ambassador extraordinary to Paris, to tender apologies; and on March 24th, 1662, in the presence of twenty-seven ambassadors and envoys from various courts of Europe, the Marques de las Fuentes declared to Louis XIV that the king, his master, had sent orders to all his ambassadors and ministers to abstain from all rivalry with those of Louis. Louis, turning to the foreign ministers, desired them to communicate this declaration to their masters. The Dutch ambassador drily remarked, that he had heard of embassies to tender obedience to the Pope, but that he had never before known of such from one prince to another. An amusing volume might be written on the absurd punctilios of the ambassadors of the seventeenth century. A medal was struck by the French to commemorate this great event. —B. ↩
This prejudice extended to the days of Pope, whose country mouse entertained his courtly guest with
“Cheese such as men in Suffolk make, But wished it Stilton for his sake.”
Imitations of Horace, Sat. vi, b. ii
See also Shadwell’s Works, vol. iv, p. 350. —B. ↩
To bloat is to dry by smoke, a method chiefly used to cure herrings or bloaters.
“I have more smoke in my mouth than would blote a hundred herrings.”
Beaumont and Fletcher, Island Princess
“Why, you stink like so many bloat-herrings newly taken out of the chimney.”
Mr. Thornbury was yeoman of the wine cellar to the king. See ante, April 23, 1661. ↩
Elizabeth Dekins or Dickins, sometimes styled Morena (or brunette), daughter of John Dekins. She died in October, 1662 (see post Oct. 3, 1662). ↩
St. Gregory’s Church was at the west end of old St. Paul’s. It was destroyed in the Great Fire, and not rebuilt. The parish was then joined to that of St. Mary Magdalen’s, Knightrider Street, and is now united to St. Martin’s, Ludgate Hill. ↩
James Buck, D.D., afterwards preacher at the Temple, a man of great learning, and rector of St. James’s, Garlickhithe, from 1661 till his death, at an advanced age, in 1685. —B. ↩
Sir William Rider’s house was at Bethnal Green, and was popularly associated with the ballad of the “Beggar’s Daughter of Bethnal Green.” It was long known as the “Blind Beggar’s House.” ↩
Elizabeth Montagu, wife of Sir Daniel Harvey, who was appointed ambassador to Constantinople in 1668. ↩
Pepys had seen Shirley’s Traitor on November 22nd, 1660. ↩
Captain George Cock, a merchant possessed of large tanning works in Limerick. On July 31st, 1660, he was rewarded for his services during the Civil War with the office of searcher of the port of Newcastle, his native place; commissioner for inspecting the chest; and in November, 1664, steward for sick and wounded seamen. Elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, 1666, and died 1679. ↩
The King of Portugal was Alfonso VI, who ascended the throne in 1656, and was deposed in 1667. ↩
A part of the main riverside road was long known as Limekiln Hill, after this lime-house. ↩
A peculiar boat of ten or fifteen tons, for the herring fishery.
“Wear your clothes neat, exceeding rather than coming short of others of like fortune; a charge borne out by acceptance where ever you come. Therefore spare all other ways rather than prove defective in this.”
A tragicomedy by Sir William Davenant. It was originally acted at the Blackfriars, and printed in 1649.
“This play was richly cloth’d; the King gave Mr. Betterton his Coronation suit, in which he acted the part of Prince Alvaro; the Duke of York giving Mr. Harris his, who did Prince Prospero; and my Lord of Oxford gave Mr. Joseph Price his, who did Lionel, the Duke of Parma’s son. The Duke was acted by Mr. Lillistn; Evandra by Mrs. Davenport, and all the other parts being very well done. The play having a great run produc’d the Company great gain and estimation from the Town.”
This complaint is referred to in Ben Jonson’s Every Man in His Humour, and in 1659 H. Whitmore published a little book entitled Febris Anomala, or the New Disease that now rageth throughout England. It appears to have been somewhat similar to subsequent epidemics of influenza. ↩
Henry Mordaunt, second Earl of Peterborough, born November 16th, 1621; Captain-General of the Forces in Tangier, Fez, and Morocco, and Chief Governor of Tangier from September 6th, 1661, to June, 1663; Privy Councillor, 1674–79, 1683; and in 1685 made Groom of the Stole to James II. He was created K.G. 1685, and died June 19th, 1697. ↩
Doubtless the same mentioned June 27th, 1661. It was a chapeau de poil, a mark of some distinction in those days, and which gave name to Rubens’s famous picture, formerly in Sir Robert Peel’s collection (now at the National Gallery), of a lady in a beaver hat, or chapeau de poil. This having been corrupted into chapeau de paille, has led to many mistakes and conjectures. ↩
Sir John Frederick, educated at Christ’s Hospital, and afterwards its president. ↩
The celebrated Quaker, and founder of Pennsylvania. ↩
Fuller’s Historic of the Holy War, fourth edition, folio, Cambridge, 1651, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
Thomas Betterton, the celebrated actor, born in Westminster and baptized on August 11th, 1635, was the son of Matthew Betterton, an under-cook to Charles I, and first appeared on the stage at the Cockpit in Drury Lane, in 1659–60. After the Restoration, two distinct companies were established by royal authority: one called the King’s Company, under a patent granted to Thomas Killigrew; the other styled the Duke’s Company, the patentee of which was Sir William Davenant, who engaged Betterton. Mr. Robert W. Lowe, in his valuable little work, Thomas Betterton, 1891, states his belief that the character of Archas in The Loyal Subject was taken by Betterton in 1660 (see ante, note 650). Betterton died April 28th, 1710, and was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey. ↩
Of Impington, great-uncle to Samuel and father of Roger Pepys, M.P., and Thomas Pepys, M.D. He died March, 1665–66 (see March 12th, 1665–66). ↩
The Court of Requests was abolished by act of parliament, 16–17 Car. I c. 10. It was held in a part of the old Westminster Palace, and adjoined St. Stephen’s Chapel. ↩
Sergeant John Turner, husband of Jane Pepys, who lived in Salisbury Court. ↩
The King’s letter to the Council for this purpose was read on November 19th. —B. ↩
Lord Braybrooke says probably John Buck, D.D., who was vicar of Stradbrook, Suffolk, and published, in 1660, a Thanksgiving Sermon, preached at St. Paul’s, but see ante, note 1215, for Dr. James Buck. ↩
“Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida!” etc.
And that, too, in the river Thames itself. The right of obliging ships of all nations to lower topsails, and strike their flag to the English, whilst in the British seas, and even on the French coasts, had, up to this time, been rigidly enforced. When Sully was sent by Henry IV, in 1603, to congratulate James I on his accession, and in a ship commanded by a vice-admiral of France, he was fired upon by the English Admiral Mansel, for daring to hoist the flag of France in the presence of that of England, although within sight of Calais. The French flag was lowered, and all Sully’s remonstrances could obtain no redress for the alleged injury. According to Rugge, Holmes had insisted upon the Swede’s lowering his flag, and had even fired a shot to enforce the observance of the usual tribute of respect, but the ambassador sent his secretary and another gentleman on board the English frigate, to assure the captain, upon the word and honour of an ambassador, that the king, by a verbal order, had given him leave and a dispensation in that particular, and upon this false representation he was allowed to proceed on his voyage without further question. This want of caution, and disobedience of orders, fell heavily on Holmes, who was imprisoned for two months, and not re-appointed to the same ship. Brahé afterwards made a proper submission for the fault he had committed, at his own court. His conduct reminds us of Sir Henry Wotton’s definition of an ambassador—that he is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country. A pun upon the term lieger—ambassador. —B. ↩
Edward Hyde, first Earl of Clarendon, was twice married. His first wife was Anne, daughter of Sir George Ayliffe, Bart., of Gretenham, in the county of Wilts. He married her in 1628, when he was only twenty years old, and she died of the smallpox six months afterwards, before any child was born. In 1634 he married Frances, daughter of Sir Thomas and Lady Aylesbury, by whom he had four sons and two daughters. Sir Thomas Aylesbury, Bart., had been secretary to George, Duke of Buckingham, and through his influence was made Master of Requests and Master of the Mint. He died at Breda in 1657, aged eighty-one. ↩
Fondness, foolishness.
“Fondness it were for any, being free, To covet fetters, though they golden be.”
Major-General Edward Massey (or Massie), son of John Massie, was captain of one of the foot companies of the Irish Expedition, and had Oliver Cromwell as his ensign (see Peacock’s Army Lists in 1642, p. 65). He was Governor of Gloucester in its obstinate defence against the royal forces, 1643; dismissed by the self-denying ordinance when he entered Charles II’s service. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Worcester, September 3rd, 1651, but escaped abroad. ↩
This is a strange use of the word Tory, and an early one also. The word originally meant bogtrotters or wild Irish, and as Penn was Governor of Kildare these may have been some of his Irish followers. The term was not used politically until about 1679. ↩
Lord Sandwich’s Journal has been printed by Kennett. See note 1338. —B. ↩
The Ironmongers’ Company possess in trust an enormous sum, left by Thomas Betton, for the redemption of Christian slaves in Barbary. Since Lord Exmouth’s expedition, no claims have arisen upon the fund, which is now administered for other purposes, under the direction of the Court of Chancery. —B. ↩
Sarah did not stay long with Mrs. Pepys, who was continually falling out with her. She left to enter Sir William Penn’s service. ↩
Henry VII did not do this, and Selden did not say he did. It was, as Pepys says, “a lie.” In May, 1670, Arthur Capel, the first Earl of Essex, was sent as Ambassador Extraordinary to Denmark in a ship of war. He was thrice fired upon with shot by Major-General Holke, who commanded the Castle of Cronenburg, which Essex had neglected or refused to salute. Essex was ordered to obtain the fullest reparation, and he did so promptly. On the 19th of the same month, Sir John Trevor, Secretary of State, acknowledged the good success which Lord Essex had had “about the flag. His Majesty received your letter with great satisfaction, which came seasonably to be declared here before the French Court. The satisfaction you have obtained is absolute, and a full renounce to all that pretence on their part.” ↩
Here, as in so many other instances, Pepys gives the second title only of the play. The correct title is, The Princess, or Love at First Sight, a Tragicomedy: The Scene, Naples and Sicily. Written in Naples by Thomas Killigrew. It was published at London, 1663. ↩
Selden’s work is in the Pepysian Library, Joannis Seldeni Mare Clausum. Londini, 1635, folio. ↩
In a speech of Lord Lucas in the House of Lords, the 22nd February, 1670–1 (which speech was burnt by the common hangman), he thus adverted to that coin:
“It is evident that there is scarcity of money; for all the parliament’s money called breeches (a fit stamp for the coin of the Rump) is wholly vanished—the king’s proclamation and the Dutch have swept it all away, and of his now majesty’s coin there appears but very little; so that in effect we have none left for common use, but a little old lean coined money of the late three former princes. And what supply is preparing for it, my lords? I hear of none, unless it be of copper farthings, and this is the metal that is to vindicate, according to the inscription on it, the dominion of the four seas.”
Quoted in Penn’s Memorials of Sir Wm. Penn, ii 264
Sir John Ireton, Lord Mayor, 1658, knighted by Cromwell, died 1689. He was brother of General Ireton. ↩
Samuel Moyer, one of the Council of State, 1653. —B. See note 3416. ↩
A tragicomedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, published in the edition of their plays, 1647. ↩
Charles II’s charter to the Company, confirming and extending the former charter, is dated April 3rd, 1661. Bombay, just acquired as part of Queen Katherine’s dowry, was made over to the Company by Letters Patent dated March 27th, 1669. ↩
See a similar outrage, committed by Captain Ferrers, September 12th, 1662. Swords were usually worn by footmen. See May 4th, 1662, post. —B. ↩
Sir John Burroughs had already written a treatise on The Sovereignty of the British Seas proved by Records, History, and the Municipall Lawes of this Kingdome. Written in the year 1633 by that Learned Knight, Sir John Boroughs, Keeper of the Records in the Tower of London. London, 1651, copies of which, both in Latin and English, are common, and one of which is in the Pepysian Library. William Ryley, the herald, Deputy Keeper of the Records, had also written on the subject, and had made extracts from the records. Ryley’s collections appear to have belonged to James II, and were probably made for him at this time. The Duke of Newcastle afterwards possessed them, and they are now in the British Museum. ↩
Cutter, an old word for a rough swaggerer: hence the title of Cowley’s play. It was originally called The Guardian, when acted before Prince Charles at Trinity College, Cambridge, on March 12th, 1641. ↩
Samuel Cromleholme or Crumlum, high master (see note 159). Nathaniel Bull was second or sur master. ↩
“The wenches with their wassall bowls About the streets are singing.”
Wither’s Christmas Carol
The old custom of carrying the wassail bowl from door to door, with songs and merriment, in Christmas week, is still observed in some of our rural districts. —B. ↩
Bussy d’Ambois, a tragedy by George Chapman, first published in 1607. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, acted at court in December, 1622. Pepys saw this play March 16th, 1660–61, at Whitefriars Theatre. ↩
Probably John Grant or Graunt, a highly respected tradesman of Birchin Lane, author of Observations on a Collection of the London Bills of Mortality. He died April 18th, 1674. ↩
Samuel Cooper, the most eminent of English miniature painters, born in London, 1609, and instructed in his art by his uncle, John Hoskins. He resided for some years in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, and died May 5th, 1672. ↩
William Faithorne, the well-known engraver. See note 526. ↩
Evelyn also mentions this visit of the king to Lincoln’s Inn, but enters into more detail. He writes,
“I went to London, invited to the solemn foolery of the Prince de la Grange at Lincoln’s Inn, where came the King, Duke, etc. It began with a grand masque, and a formal pleading before the mock Princes, Grandees, Nobles, and Knights of the Sun. He had his Lord Chancellor, Chamberlain, Treasurer, and other Royal officers, gloriously clad and attended. It ended in a magnificent banquet. One Mr. Lort was the young spark who maintain’d the pageantry.”
Sir William Penn married very early in life Margaret, daughter of John Jasper, of Rotterdam. She died in 1682, and was buried at Walthamstow, March 4th, 1681–82. —Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, ii 572 ↩
The same custom is noticed, February 3rd, 1661–62. ↩
Sir Paul Neile, of White Waltham, Berks (see note 959). ↩
The first Duke or Doge of Genoa was Simon Boccanegra, elected in 1339. Hallam gives an account of the origin of the ducal government in his Europe During the Middle Ages, chapter iii. ↩
John Berchinshaw, an Irishman, translated the Elementale Musicum, 8vo, 1664, and issued, in 1672, a prospectus of a complete system of music, but it is doubtful if the book ever appeared. In the Pepysian Library is a thin folio volume entitled, Mr. Berchinshaw’s Two Parts to be sung (severally) with ye ordinary Church Tunes of the Singing Psalms. Evelyn mentions him in his Diary (August 3rd, 1664) in high terms, and describes him as “that rare artist who invented a mathematical way of composure very extraordinary, true as to the exact rules of art, but without much harmonie.” He lived at Southwark, see post, February 24th, 1661–62. A John Birchenshaw was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, May 14th, 1681, but it is not certain that this was the teacher of music. ↩
These three brothers were the sons of Robert Honywood of Charing, Kent, who had purchased the estate of Mark’s Hall, in Essex; and whose mother, Mary Attwaters, after forty-four years of widowhood, died at ninety-three, having lived to see three hundred and sixty-seven of her own lawful descendants. Colonel Honywood and Peter seem, from subsequent notices in the Diary, to have been both knighted: but we find no particulars of their history. Michael Honywood, D.D., was rector of Kegworth, co. Leicester, and seeking refuge at Utrecht during the Rebellion, was, on his return, made Dean of Lincoln, and died in 1681, aged eighty-five, having been generally considered a learned and holy man. The widow of Dean Honywood left his library to the Dean and Chapter of Lincoln. Many early printed books of great rarity contained in this collection were dispersed under the auspices of Dean Gordon in 1817, and replaced by the purchase of modern works comparatively of no value. See Botfield’s Account of Our Cathedral Libraries. In the Topographer and Genealogist, No. V, there is a printed account of “Mary Honywood and her Posterity,” taken from a MS. of Peter Le Neve’s, in the Lansdowne Collection in the British Museum. —B. ↩
They are formed by dropping melted glass into water. These drops are still called after Prince Rupert, who brought them out of Germany, where they were named “Lacrymæ Batavicæ.” They consist of glass drops with long and slender tails, which burst to pieces on the breaking off those tails in any part. The invention is thus alluded to in Hudibras:—
“Honour is like that glassy bubble That finds philosophers such trouble, Whose least part cracked, the whole does fly, And wits are cracked to find out why.”
A game of cards played by three persons with forty-four cards, each hand having twelve cards, and eight being left for the stock. —Nares’s Glossary. Ben Jonson mentions it with Primero as a fashionable game in The Alchemist, v. 4. The laws of the game are given in the Wit’s Interpreter, 1662, p. 365. “Whatever games were stirring at places where he retired, as gammon, gleek, piquet, or even the merry main, he made one.” —North’s Life of Lord Keeper Guildford, vol. i, p. 17 ↩
On the 8th a proclamation was issued for a general fast to be observed in London and Westminster on the 15th, and in the rest of England on the 22nd, with prayers on occasion of “the present unseasonableness of the weather.” William Lucy, Bishop of St. Davids, preached before the House of Lords. Dr. Samuel Bolton and Dr. Bruno Ryves preached at St. Margaret’s before the House of Commons. —B. ↩
The old proverb says truly, that “a green yule maketh a fat kirk yard.” Apples were growing at this time. —B. ↩
Frederick, created first Lord Cornwallis, April 20th, 1661, who died January 31st, 1662, was Treasurer of the Household. ↩
Gambia, on the western coast of Africa, then recently possessed by the English. Its unhealthy character is still, alas! well proved by our cruisers against the slave trade. —B. ↩
Henry Montagu, first Earl of Manchester, had numerous issue by his first wife, Catherine Spencer; but George, here mentioned, was the eldest son of Margaret Crouch, widow of John Hare, the earl’s third wife. ↩
Edward Montagu, eldest son of Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton. He died unmarried. ↩
Ralph, second son of Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton. He was ambassador to France in 1666, 1669, 1676, 1677–78, and was created Earl in 1689, and Duke of Montagu in 1705; he died March 7th, 1709. ↩
Robert Montagu, Viscount Mandeville, was a gentleman of the bedchamber to Charles II, 1666–1681. He became third Earl of Manchester on his father’s death in 1671, and died at Paris, March 14, 1683. ↩
Charles, third son of Sir Miles Fleetwood, Knt.; General and Commander-in-Chief to the Protector Richard, whose sister, Bridget, widow of Ireton, he had married as his second wife. After the king’s return he lived in obscurity, and died October 4th, 1692. ↩
John Downes, member of the Long Parliament. He joined the Parliamentary army, and was made a colonel of militia. One of the king’s judges who signed the death warrant. Elected to the Council of State, November 25th, 1651, and again, May 14th, 1659. At the Restoration he published A True and Humble Representation Touching the Death of the Late King as Far as He May Be Concerned Therein. Arrested at Hampstead, June 18th, 1660; condemned, but reprieved, and kept prisoner in Newgate. He was in the Tower in November, 1666. ↩
“I remember your honour very well, when you newly came out of France, and wore pantaloon breeches; at which time your late honoured father [Sir W. Penn] dwelt in the Navy Office, in that apartment the Lord Viscount Brouncker dwelt in afterwards, which was on the north part of the Navy Office garden.”
P. Gibson of Penn ye Quaker, Life of Penn, vol. ii, p. 616
He had been gentleman of the privy chamber to Charles I, and resident in France for that monarch. He was created a baronet September 1st, 1649, and died February 10th, 1683. Much is said of him in the Diary of John Evelyn, who married his only child and heir; and thus became possessor of Sayes Court. Part of Deptford Dockyard is still held under the Evelyn family. The plans, on a large scale, of Sayes Court and Deptford Dockyard, executed by Joel Gascoyne in 1692, probably for Evelyn himself, are in the British Museum, together with plans of the dockyard as it existed in 1688, 1698, and 1774, respectively; and also other plans of the docks made for the Evelyns. —B. ↩
A kind of weir with floodgate, or a navigable sluice. This project is mentioned by Evelyn, January 16th, 1661–62, and Lysons’ Environs vol. iv, p. 392. —B. ↩
William, second son of Sir Thomas Monson, Bart.; created, by Charles I, Viscount Monson of Castlemaine, in the kingdom of Ireland. Notwithstanding this act of favour, he was instrumental in the king’s death; and in 1661, being degraded of his honours, was sentenced, with Sir Henry Mildmay and Robert Wallop, to undergo the punishment here described. None of their names were subscribed to the king’s sentence. An account of this ceremony was printed at the time, entitled, “The Traitors’s Pilgrimage from the Tower to Tyburn, being a true relation of the drawing of William Lord Mounson, Sir Henry Mildmay and ’Squire Wallop … with the manner of the proceedings at Tyburn, in order to the degrading and divesting of them of their former titles of honour, and their declaratory speeches to both the right worshipful Sheriffs of London and Middlesex.” Lord Monson and Lord Sondes are descended from the eldest son of Sir Thomas Monson. Viscount Monson left one son by his second wife, Alston Monson, who died s.p. in 1674. —Collins’s Peerage. —B. ↩
Sir Henry Mildmay, third son of Sir Humphrey Mildmay, had enjoyed the confidence of Charles I, who made him Master of the Jewel Office; but he sat as one of the king’s judges, although he did not sign the death warrant. He died at Antwerp. His estate of Wansted was confiscated, and was given to Sir Robert Brookes; and by him, or his heirs, or creditors, alienated in 1667 to Sir Josiah Childe, ancestor of the Earl Tylney. See May 14th, 1665. It is now Lord Mornington’s, in right of his first wife. Sir Henry Mildmay’s other estates were saved by being settled on his marriage. —B. ↩
Robert Wallop, the direct ancestor of the Earl of Portsmouth. He died in the Tower, November 16th, 1667. —B. ↩
“Who can stretch forth his hand against the Lord’s anointed, and be guiltless?”
Probably Benjamin Templer, rector of Ashby, in Northamptonshire. —B. ↩
Who afterwards caused Pepys much trouble and inconvenience. ↩
The Duke of York’s letter “to the Principal Officers and Commanders of His Majesty’s Navy,” dated “Whitehall, January 28th, 1661–62,” is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, ii 265. The Instructions were a revisal and confirmation of the “Orders and Instructions” issued in 1640 by Algernon, Earl of Northumberland, then Lord High Admiral. Sir W. Penn had a hand in this revisal. ↩
Fuller’s History of the Worthies of England, folio, 1662, is in the Pepysian Library. ↩
Sturtlow is near Brampton. Samuel frequently quarrelled with his brother Tom over the Sturtlow lands. ↩
The poetry of the song, “Gaze not on Swans,” is by H. Noel, and set to music by H. Lawes, in his “Ayres and Dialogues,” 1653. —B. ↩
The “poor john” is a hake salted and dried. It is frequently referred to in old authors as poor fare. ↩
Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, aunt of Charles II. See ante, May 14th, 1660. She died at Leicester House, on the north side of the present Leicester Square, to which she had removed only five days previously from Drury House, in Drury Lane, the residence of Lord Craven, to whom it has been asserted that she was married. She was sixty-five years of age. ↩
The Corporation of the Trinity House received its first charter from Henry VIII in 1514. In 1604 a select class was constituted, called elder brethren, the other members being called younger brethren. By the charter of 1609 the sole management of affairs was conferred on the elder brethren, the younger brethren having, however, a vote in the election of Master and Wardens. Among some miscellaneous manuscripts of Samuel Pepys, which were in the possession of Mr. S. J. Davey, of 47, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, in 1889, was a copy of this oath, in which Pepys swore to “use” himself “as becometh a younger brother for the time you shall so continue.” At the end is the following memorandum: “I tooke this oath at ye Trinity House in London (Sir Wm. Rider, Dep. Maistcr for the Earl of Sandwich), this 15th day of Feb., 1661.—Samuel Pepys.” Pepys was Master of the Trinity House in 1676. ↩
A fourth-rate, of forty guns, a prize from Portugal; in 1665 it was commanded by Captain John Pearce. —B. ↩
In Lent, of which the observance, intermitted for nineteen years, was now reviving. We have seen that Pepys, as yet, had not cast off all show of Puritanism.
“In this month the Fishmongers’ Company petitioned the King that Lent might be kept, because they had provided abundance of fish for this season, and their prayer was granted.”
Lewis Phillips of Brampton. He was uncle to John Jackson, who married Samuel Pepys’s sister Paulina. ↩
“A dreadful storm of wind happened one night in February, anno 1661–62, which, though general, at least, all over England, yet was remarkable at Oxford in these two respects;—1. That though it forced the stones inwards into the cavity of Allhallow’s spire, yet it overthrew it not. And 2. That in the morning, when there was some abatement of its fury, it was yet so violent, that it laved water out of the river Cherwell, and cast it quite over the bridge at Magdalen College, above the surface of the water, near twenty foot high; which passage, with advantage of holding by the College wall, I had then curiosity to go to see myself, which otherwise perhaps I should have as hardly credited, as some other persons now may do.”
A tragicomedy, by Sir William Davenant; taken from Measure for Measure, with the characters of Benedick and Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing added; published in Davenant’s Works, 1673. ↩
This actress, so called from the character she played in the Siege of Rhodes, was Frances or Elizabeth Davenport, who was born March 3rd, 1642. Evelyn saw her on January 9th, 1661–62, she being soon after taken to be “My Lord Oxford’s Miss.” She was induced to marry Aubrey de Vere, twentieth and last Earl of Oxford, after indignantly refusing to become his mistress, and discovered, when too late, that the nuptial ceremony had been performed by the earl’s trumpeter, in the habit of a priest. For more of her history, see Mémoires de Grammont. Ashmole records the birth of the Earl of Oxford’s son by Roxalana, April 17th, 1664, which shows that the liaison continued. The child was called Aubrey Vere. —Ward’s Diary, p. 131. Downes (Roscius Anglicanus, p. 20) places Mrs. Davenport first on the list of the four principal actresses who boarded in Sir William Davenant’s house. Davies and Curll supposed this actress to be Mrs. Marshall, but this was owing to a confusion between the characters Roxana and Roxalana. Mrs. Marshall was the original Roxana in Lee’s Rival Queens, produced at the Theatre Royal in 1677. The translator of Grammont’s Memoirs added to the confusion by translating Hamilton’s “Roxelane” into “Roxana.” ↩
“Sunday, Jan. 12. This morning, the Portuguese, 140 horse in Tangier, made a salley into the country for booty, whereof they had possessed about 400 cattle, 30 camels, and some horses, and 35 women and girls, and being six miles distant from Tangier, were intercepted by 100 Moors with harquebusses, who in the first charge killed the Aidill with a shot in the head, whereupon the rest of the Portuguese ran, and in the pursuit 51 were slain, whereof were 11 of the knights, besides the Aidill. The horses of the 51 were also taken by the Moors, and all the booty relieved.
“Tuesday, Jan. 14. This morning, Mr. Mules came to me from the Governor, for the assistance of some of our men into the castle.
“Thursday, Jan. 16. About 80 men out of my own ship, and the Princess, went into Tangier, into the lower castle, about four of the clock in the afternoon.
“Friday, Jan. 17. In the morning, by eight o’clock, the Martyr came in from Cales (Cadiz) with provisions, and about ten a clock I sent Sir Richard Stayner, with 120 men, besides officers, to the assistance of the Governor, into Tangier.”
Lord Sandwich’s Journal, in Kennet’s Register
On the 23rd, Lord Sandwich put one hundred more men into Tangier; on the 29th and 30th, Lord Peterborough and his garrison arrived from England, and received possession from the Portuguese; and, on the 31st, Sir Richard Stayner and the seamen re-embarked on board Lord Sandwich’s fleet. —B. ↩
The following account of this transaction is abridged from the Mercurius Publicus of the day: “Charles Lord Buckhurst, Edward Sackville, Esq., his brother; Sir Henry Belasyse, K.B., eldest son of Lord Belasyse; John Belasyse, brother to Lord Faulconberg; and Thomas Wentworth, Esq., only son of Sir G. Wentworth, whilst in pursuit of thieves near Waltham Cross, mortally wounded an innocent tanner named Hoppy, whom they had endeavoured to secure, suspecting him to have been one of the robbers; and as they took away the money found on his person, under the idea that it was stolen property, they were soon after apprehended on the charges of robbery and murder; but the Grand Jury found a bill for manslaughter only.” By a subsequent allusion in the Diary to their trial, it seems probable that a verdict of acquittal was pronounced. ↩
Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, eldest son of Richard, fifth Earl of Dorset, was born January 24th, 1638. He was a volunteer with the fleet in 1665, when he wrote his famous song beginning
“To all ye ladies now at land We men at sea indite.”
In 1674, by the death of his uncle, Lionel Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex, he came into possession of a considerable property, and in the following year was created Earl of Middlesex. In 1677 he succeeded his father as sixth Earl of Dorset. He was a favourite companion of Charles II and of William III, and a patron of literary men. He died January 29th, 1707. ↩
Afterwards Sir Martin Beckman, many of whose plans are in the British Museum. He became chief engineer, and was knighted March 20th, 1685. The map of Tangier here mentioned is in the collection of George III at the British Museum. —B. ↩
Genest gives the cast, on the authority of Downes, as follows (English Stage, vol. i, p. 42): Romeo—Harris, Mercutio—Betterton, Juliet—Mrs. Saunderson. The Hon. James Howard turned Shakespeare’s tragedy into a tragicomedy, and apparently introduced a new character, Count Paris’s wife, which was taken by Mrs. Holden. But this apparently was produced at a later date, when, according to Downes, Shakespeare’s original and Howard’s travesty were acted alternately. ↩
Lord Braybrooke wrote, “This reminds me of a story of my father’s, when he was of Merton College, and heard Bowen the porter wish that he had £100 a-year, to enable him to keep a couple of hunters and a pack of foxhounds.” ↩
Although fumage or smoke money was as old as the Conquest, the first parliamentary levy of hearth or chimney money was by statute 13 and 14 Car. II, c. 10, which gave the king an hereditary revenue of two shillings annually upon every hearth in all houses paying church or poor rate. This act was repealed by statute I William and Mary, c. 10, it being declared in the preamble as “not only a great oppression to the poorer sort, but a badge of slavery upon the whole people, exposing every man’s house to be entered into and searched at pleasure by persons unknown to him.” ↩
Moorfields were first drained in 1527, and walks were laid out in 1606. In the following year Richard Johnson wrote The Pleasant Walks of Moore Fields. ↩
In Cornhill, where Pope’s Head Alley still exists. See June 20th, 1662. There was a Pope’s Head tavern in Chancery Lane, see March 22nd, 1659–60. ↩
Dr. Robert Creighton (born at Dunkeld in 1593), educated at Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge. In 1625 he was made Professor of Greek, and in 1627 succeeded his friend George Herbert as Public Orator, holding both offices until 1639. When Pepys heard him, Creighton was Dean of Wells. In 1670 he was consecrated Bishop of Bath and Wells. He died November 21st, 1672. His son, of the same name, was elected Greek Professor of Cambridge in 1662, and died at Wells, February 17th, 1733–4. The father and son have been sometimes confounded. ↩
She is called in the State Poems “the Monkey Duchess.” The duke was Master of the Horse to the king. —B. ↩
Afterwards Duke of Montagu. See ante, note 1302. ↩
Hume states that Downing was in early life chaplain in Okey’s regiment, and Pepys’s reference to ingratitude would seem to allude to this. (See note 55.) ↩
[“And hail the treason though we hate the traitor.”] On the 21st Charles returned his formal thanks to the States for their assistance in the matter. —B. ↩
John Okey, Miles Corbet, and John Barkstead, three of the regicides executed April 19th following. —B. ↩
The President Hénault mentions a similar speech made by Lockhart, in France.
“Un Ecossois, nommé Lockart, ambassadeur d’Angleterre en France, sous Cromwell, dont il avait epousé la nièce, et qui le fut aussi depuis, sous Charles II, disoi qu’il n’étoit pas considéré en France, en qualité d’ambassadeur du roi, comme il l’avoit été du tems de Cromwell; cela devoit être parcequ’il y avoit bien de la différence entre celui qui obligea la France à prendre Dunkerque pour la lui remettre, et celui qui revendit cette place à la France quand il fut remonté sur le trône.”
Hénault’s pithy remark expresses the truth. Nothing shows the degradation of Charles in a more striking light than this coincidence of opinion in two ambassadors. The first edition of Hénault does not contain this passage. —B. ↩
Charles, when residing at Brussels, went to the Hague at night to pay a secret visit to his sister, the Princess of Orange. After his arrival, “an old reverend-like man, with a long grey beard and ordinary grey clothes,” entered the inn and begged for a private interview. He then fell on his knees, and pulling off his disguise, discovered himself to be Mr. Downing, then ambassador from Cromwell to the States-General. He informed Charles that the Dutch had guaranteed to the English Commonwealth to deliver him into their hands should he ever set foot in their territory. This warning probably saved Charles’s liberty. —M. B. ↩
This is the secret of Cornelius van Drebbel (1572–1634), which is referred to again by Pepys on November 11th, 1663. Johannes Siberius Kuffler was originally a dyer at Leyden, who married Drebbel’s daughter. In the Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1661–62 (p. 327), is the following entry: “Request of Johannes Siberius Kuffler and Jacob Drebble for a trial of their father Cornelius Drebble’s secret of sinking or destroying ships in a moment; and if it succeed, for a reward of £10,000. The secret was left them by will, to preserve for the English crown before any other state.” Cornelius van Drebbel settled in London, where he died. James I took some interest in him, and is said to have interfered when he was in prison in Austria and in danger of execution. ↩
Waterfowl appear to have been kept in St. James’s Park from the reign of Queen Elizabeth, but the ponds were replenished after the Restoration. ↩
A “pink” was a form of vessel now obsolete, and had a very narrow stern. The Blackmoor was a sixth-rate of twelve guns, built at Chatham by Captain Tayler in 1656 (Archæologia, xlviii 174). ↩
He was one of the commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately, when he was knighted. He was afterwards created a baronet. ↩
One of these letters was probably from John Creed. Mr. S. J. Davey, of 47, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, in 1889 had in his possession nine long letters from Creed to Pepys. In the first of these, dated from Lisbon, March, 1662, Creed wrote: “My Lord Embassador doth all he can to hasten the Queen’s Majestie’s embarquement, there being reasons enough against suffering any unnecessary delay.” There appear to have been considerable delays in the arrangements for the following declaration of Charles II was dated June 22nd, 1661: “Charles R. Whereas his Maj. is resolved to declare, under his Royal hand and seale, the most illustrious Lady Infanta of Portugal to be his lawful wife, before the Treaty shall be signed by the King of Portugal; which is to be done only for the better expediting the marriage, without sending to Rome for a dispensation, which the laws of Portugal would require if the said most Illustrious Infanta were to be betrothed in that Kingdome,” etc. ↩
The following quotation in illustration of this passage is suggested in the Athenæum:—“Master Field, the player, riding up Fleet Street a great pace, a gentleman called him and asked him what play was played that day? He (being angry to be stayed upon so frivolous a demand) answered that he might see what play was to be played upon every post. I cry you mercy (said the gentleman), I took you for a post you rode so fast.” —Taylor the Water-Poet ↩
The Bear at the Bridge Foot on the west side of High Street, Southwark. ↩
John Graunt, born in Birchin Lane, London, April 24th, 1620, bound apprentice to a haberdasher. He obtained for his friend Petty the professorship of music at Gresham College. He was captain of train-bands for several years. He was bred a Puritan, but turned Socinian, and lastly became a Roman Catholic. F.R.S., February, 1661–62. He was recommended by the king, and Dr. Sprat writes, in his History of the Royal Society:—
“In whose election it was so farr from being a prejudice that he was a shopkeeper of London, that his Majesty gave this particular charge to his Society, that if they found any more such tradesmen, they should be sure to admit them all, without any more ado.”
He published his Natural and Political Observations Upon the Bills of Mortality in 1662, and this book, which laid the foundation of the science of statistics, went through several editions during his lifetime. Afterwards it was edited and improved by Sir William Petty, who sometimes spoke of it as his own, which gave rise to Burnet’s erroneous statement that he “published his Observations on the Bills of Mortality in the name of one Grant, a Papist.” Graunt died at his house in Birchin Lane, April 18th, 1674. ↩
Tansy (tanacetum), a herb from which puddings were made. Hence any pudding of the kind. Selden (Table Talk) says: “Our tansies at Easter have reference to the bitter herbs.” See in Wordsworth’s University Life in the Eighteenth Century recipes for “an apple tansey,” “a bean tansey,” and “a gooseberry tansey.” —M. B. ↩
The Guernsey (previously the Basing) was a fifth-rate of twenty-two guns, built at Walderwick in 1654 by Jonas Shish (Archæologia, xlviii 174). The name of the place should probably be Walberswick, on the Suffolk coast. ↩
This does not accord with the certificate which Dr. Milles wrote in 1681, where he says that Pepys was a constant communicant. ↩
Pepys had seen Fletcher’s play, The Nightwalker, or the Little Thief, at the Whitefriars Theatre, on April 2nd, 1661. ↩
The Spital sermons were originally preached in Spital Square, but they are now given at Christ Church, Newgate Street, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. ↩
Mary Saunderson, who married Thomas Betterton, December, 1662, one of Sir William Davenant’s company, who acted Ianthe in the Siege of Rhodes, at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. She retired from the stage about 1675, died April, 1712, and was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey on the 13th. The Roxalana here alluded to was Mrs. Davenport. ↩
On the 5th of June following, Louis, notwithstanding the scarcity, gave that splendid carousal in the court before the Tuileries, from which the place has ever since taken its name. —B. ↩
Richard Talbot, who figures conspicuously in the Grammont Memoirs, son of Sir William Talbot. He married, first, Catherine Boynton, “the languishing Boynton” of Grammont, and secondly, Frances Jennings, eldest sister of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. Talbot was created Earl of Tyrconnel in 1685, and made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and elevated to the dukedom of Tyrconnel in 1689 by James II after his abdication. He died at Limerick, August 5th, 1691. ↩
Thomas Windsor, Baron Windsor, Lord Lieutenant of Worcestershire, 1660; advanced to the earldom of Plymouth, 1682. Died November 3rd, 1689. ↩
This was the learned Robert South, then public orator at Oxford, and afterwards D.D. and prebendary of Westminster, and canon of Christchurch. The story, as copied from a contemporary tract, called Annus Mirabilis Secundus, is given with full details in Wood’s Athenæ and Kennett’s Register. It is by no means devoid of interest; but, having been so often printed, need not be here repeated. We may observe, however, that South had experienced a similar qualm whilst preaching at Oxford a few months before; but these seizures produced no bad consequences, as he lived to be eighty-three. —B. ↩
Mary, daughter of George Villiers, first Duke of Buckingham, wife of James, fourth Duke of Lennox and third Duke of Richmond, who left her a widow secondly in 1655. She had previously married Charles, Lord Herbert; and she took for her third husband, Thomas Howard, brother of the Earl of Carlisle, who fought the duel with Jermyn, referred to on August 19th, 1662. She died November, 1685. ↩
Edward, Earl of Manchester, as Lord Chamberlain. ↩
John Tippets, appointed master-shipwright in Portsmouth Dockyard, and afterwards knighted; Commissioner of the Navy (1667–72), and Surveyor of the Navy (1672–85, 1688–92). ↩
Sir George Carteret was elected Member of Parliament for Portsmouth, April 23rd, 1661. ↩
Titchfield House, erected by Sir Thomas Wriothesley on the site of a Premonstratensian abbey granted to him with the estates, 29th Henry VIII. Upon the death of his descendant, Thomas, Earl of Southampton, and Lord Treasurer, without issue male, the house and manor were allotted to his eldest daughter Elizabeth, wife of Edmund, first Earl of Gainsborough; and their only son dying s.p.m., the property devolved to his sister Elizabeth, married to Henry, Duke of Portland, whose grandson, the third duke, alienated it to Mr. Delme. The duke’s second title is taken from this place. —B. ↩
Gough says,
“It is the custom at this day all over Wales to strew the graves, both within and without the church, with green herbs, branches of box, flowers, rushes, and flags, for one year, after which such as can afford it lay down a stone.”
Brand’s Popular Antiquities, edited W. C. Hazlitt, vol. ii, p. 218
William, second Lord Viscount Brouncker of Castlelyons, born about 1620, was the first president of the Royal Society, and a respectable mathematician. Extra Commissioner of the Navy, 1664–66; Comptroller of the Treasurers Accounts, 1660–79; Master of St. Katharine’s Hospital in 1681. Died April 5th, 1684, ↩
John Owen, D.D., a learned Nonconformist divine, and a voluminous theological writer, born 1616, made Dean of Christ Church in 1653 by the Parliament, and ejected in 1659–60. He died at Ealing in 1683. ↩
According to the original Statutes of Corpus Christi Coll. Oxon, a Scholar slept in a truckle bed below each Fellow. Called also “a trindle bed.” Compare Hall’s description of an obsequious tutor:
“He lieth in a truckle bed While his young master lieth o’er his head.”
Satires, ii 6, 5
The bed was drawn in the daytime under the high bed of the tutor. See Wordsworth’s University Life in the Eighteenth Century. —M. B. ↩
Watkins was a clerk of the Privy Seal, see post, May 9th. ↩
The Tower Menagerie was not abolished until the reign of William IV. ↩
Miniature by Savill, which cost £3, see post, June 11th. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Philip Carteret, of St. Ouen, Jersey, married to her cousin, Sir George Carteret, Bart. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher which was written in 1611, and first published in 1613. ↩
For further particulars respecting Sir J. Lawson’s fight with the Turks, see post, June 27th. ↩
Penn accompanied the Duke of Ormonde to Ireland in July, 1662, and he took the opportunity of visiting his estates in Cork and his government of Kinsale. ↩
Mr. Watkins is mentioned as a clerk of the Privy Seal on July 11th and 24th, 1660. ↩
This appears to have been a predecessor of Powell’s more famous puppet-show. An Italian puppet-show was exhibited at Charing Cross in 1666 and 1667. ↩
The mourning was for the king’s aunt, the Queen of Bohemia. ↩
Richard Marriott was Housekeeper of Hampton Court Palace. He died 1664, and was succeeded by James Marriott (see note 2592). ↩
The Earl of Sandwich’s letter to Lord Chancellor Clarendon (dated May 15th, 1662) contains an account of the Queen’s safe landing. He writes,
“The Queen as soone as she came to her lodgings received my Lady Suffolk and ye Ladyes very kindly, and appointed them this morninge to come and putt her in that habit they thought would be most pleasing to ye Kinge; and I doubt not, but when they have done there parts she will appeare wth much more advantage and very well to ye Kinges contentment.”
Lister’s Life of Clarendon, iii 193
Rugge, in his Diurnal, tells us that the queen attired herself in the English fashion soon after she landed. ↩
Nathaniel Crew, born 1633, fifth son of John, first Lord Crew; he himself became third Lord Crew in 1697. Sub-Rector of Lincoln College, Oxford, 1659. Took orders in 1664, and was Rector of Lincoln College in 1668; Dean of Chichester, 1669; Bishop of Oxford, 1671; Bishop of Durham, 1674; sworn of the Privy Council in 1676. He was very subservient to James II, and at the Revolution was excepted from the general pardon of May, 1690, but he was allowed to keep possession of the bishopric of Durham. ↩
Mr. Knightly is referred to once or twice subsequently in the Diary, and described as a neighbour. ↩
John Racket, elected bishop of that see, December 6th, 1661. He died October 28th, 1670, in the seventy-ninth year of his age. ↩
Henry Cooke, Master of the Children of the Chapel Royal. See note 643. ↩
To ears accustomed to the official words of speeches from the throne at the present day, the familiar tone of the following extracts from Charles’s speech to the Commons, on the 1st of March; will be amusing:
“I will conclude with putting you in mind of the season of the year, and the convenience of your being in the country, in many respects, for the good and welfare of it; for you will find much tares have been sowed there in your absence. The arrival of my wife, who I expect some time this month, and the necessity of my own being out of town to meet her, and to stay some time before she comes hither, makes it very necessary that the Parliament be adjourned before Easter, to meet again in the winter. … The mention of my wife’s arrival puts me in mind to desire you to put that compliment upon her, that her entrance into the town may be with more decency than the ways will now suffer it to be; and, to that purpose, I pray you would quickly pass such laws as are before you, in order to the amending those ways, and that she may not find Whitehall surrounded with water.”
Such a bill passed the Commons on the 24th June. From Charles’s Speech, March 1st, 1662. —B. ↩
For note on Mrs. Davenport, who was deceived by a pretended marriage with the Earl of Oxford, see ante. Lord Oxford’s first wife died in 1659. He married, in 1672, his second wife, Diana Kirke, of whom nothing more need be said than that she bore an inappropriate Christian name. ↩
The Halfway House, Rotherhithe, was a place of entertainment frequently visited by Pepys on his way to Deptford, towards which it was a halfway house. ↩
Charles Fitzroy, Lady Castlemaine’s son by the King, was born in June, 1662; created Duke of Southampton, 1675; succeeded his mother as Duke of Cleveland in 1709, and died September 9th, 1730. ↩
A droll formed out of the Duke of Newcastle’s play of The Variety, and printed in the Wits, or Sport Upon Sport, 1672; acted by Killigrew’s company, March 11th, 1661–62. See Sir Henry Herbert’s Register of Plays Performed at the Restoration, in Malone’s Shakespeare, by Boswell, vol. iii, p. 275. It is no wonder that Lacy performed his part so well, as he had been brought up as a dancing master. He afterwards procured a lieutenant’s commission in the army, which he soon quitted for the stage, and was the author of four plays. Died 1681, and was buried in the churchyard of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. ↩
The second title of Shirley’s play of The Changes. Thumpe, Sir Gervase’s man, was one of Lacy’s most celebrated parts.
“For his just acting all gave him due praise, His part in The Cheats, Jony Thumpe, Teg, and Bayes. In these four excelling; the Court gave him the Bays.”
The articles of peace between Charles II and the city and kingdom of Algiers, concluded August 30th, 1664, by Admiral Thomas Allen, according to instructions from the Duke of York, being the same articles concluded by Sir John Lawson, April 23rd, 1662, and confirmed November 10th following, are reprinted in Somers’ Tracts ed. 1812, vol. vii, p. 554. —B. ↩
Charles wrote of the Queen to Clarendon on May 21st:
“If I have any skill in physiognomy, which I think I have, she must be as good a woman as ever was born. Her conversation, as much as I can perceive, is very good, for she has wit enough, and a most agreeable voice. You would wonder to see how well we are acquainted already. In a word, I think myself very happy, for I am confident our two humours will agree very well together.”
“I came to the Wardrobe in London to my family, where I met a letter from Captain Teddiman to Mr. Samuel Pepys, showing the news of Sir John Lawson’s having made peace with Algiers, they agreeing not to search our ships.”
The dulcimer (or psaltery) consisted of a flat box, acting as a resonating chamber, over which strings of wire were stretched. These were struck by little hammers. ↩
Farthingales had gone out of fashion in England during the reign of Charles I, and therefore their use by the Portuguese ladies astonished the English. Evelyn also remarks in his Diary on this ugly custom (May 30th, 1662). ↩
The Red Bull Playhouse in Clerkenwell. See note 631. ↩
Christopher Marlowe’s tragedy, with additional scenes. Printed in 1663. ↩
Backwell carried on business as a goldsmith at the “Unicorn” in Lombard Street. ↩
Foxhall, Faukeshall, or Vauxhall, a manor in Surrey, properly Fulke’s. Hall, and so called from Fulke de Breaute, the notorious mercenary follower of King John. The manor house was afterwards known as Copped or Copt Hall. Sir Samuel Morland obtained a lease of the place, and King Charles made him Master of Mechanics, and here “he (Morland), anno 1667, built a fine room,” says Aubrey, “the inside all of looking-glass and fountains, very pleasant to behold.” The gardens were formed about 1661, and originally called the “New Spring Gardens,” to distinguish them from the “Old Spring Gardens” at Charing Cross, but according to the present description by Pepys there was both an Old and a New Spring Garden at Vauxhall. Balthazar Monconys, who visited England early in the reign of Charles II, describes the “Jardins Printemps” at Lambeth as having lawns and gravel walks, dividing squares of twenty or thirty yards enclosed with hedges of gooseberry trees, within which were planted roses. ↩
The Royal James, formerly the Richard; not the same ship as the James, another second-rate. ↩
A very singular book by Dr. Thomas Bayly—Herba Parietis; or, the Wallflower, as it grew out of the Stone Chamber belonging to Newgate. London, 1650, folio. —B. ↩
“An Act for the Uniformity of public prayers and administration of sacraments and other rites and ceremonies, and for establishing the form of making, ordaining, and consecrating bishops, priests, and deacons in the Church of England.”
Cruzado, a Portuguese coin of 480 reis. It is named from a cross which it bears on one side, the arms of Portugal being on the other. It varied in value at different periods from 2s. 3d. to 4s.
“Believe me, I had rather lost my purse Full of cruzados.”
Sir Peter Ball was the Queen’s Attorney-General, and Evelyn mentions, in his Diary (January 11th, 1661–62), having received from him the draft of an act against the nuisance of the smoke of London. ↩
There is a beautiful copy of The Workes of King Charles the Martyr, and Collections of Declarations, Treaties, etc. (2 vols. folio, 1662), in the Pepysian Library, with a very interesting note in the first volume by Pepys (dated October 7th, 1700), to the effect that he had collated it with a copy in Lambeth Library, presented by Dr. Zachary Cradock, Provost of Eton. “This book being seized on board an English ship was delivered, by order of the Inquisition of Lisbon, to some of the English Priests to be perused and corrected according to the Rules of the Index Expurgatorius. Thus corrected it was given to Barnaby Crafford, English merchant there, and by him it was given to me, the English preacher resident there A.D. 1670, and by me as I then received it to the Library at Lambeth to be there preserved. Nov. 2, 1678. Ita testor, Zach. Cradock.—From which (through the favour of the most Reverend Father in God and my most honoured Friend his Grace the present Archbishop of Canterbury) I have this 7th of October, 1700, had an opportunity given me there (assisted by my clerk, Thomas Henderson), leisurely to overlook, and with my uttermost attention to note the said Expurgations through each part of this my own Book.” Whole sentences in the book are struck through, as well as such words as Martyr, Defender of the Faith, More than Conqueror, etc. ↩
That is, by the old style. The new style was not introduced until 1752; see note 47 and note 762. ↩
Mr. Fisher, described on the 15th of this month as an old cavalier and a good-humoured man. ↩
Sir Harry Vane the younger was born 1612. Charles signed on June 12th a warrant for the execution of Vane by hanging at Tyburn on the 14th, which sentence on the following day “upon humble suit made” to him, Charles was “graciously pleased to mitigate,” as the warrant terms it, for the less ignominious punishment of beheading on Tower Hill, and with permission that the head and body should be given to the relations to be by them decently and privately interred.
It has been supposed that this was Sir William Boreman, clerk to the Board of Green Cloth, but this is unlikely, as there evidently was another Boreman frequently mentioned in the Diary. ↩
Peter Lely, the celebrated painter, afterwards knighted. He moved to the Piazza, Covent Garden, in this year, and remained there till his death in 1680. The portrait of the Duchess of York is now at Hampton Court. ↩
Michael Wright, a native of Scotland, and portrait-painter of some note, settled in London at an early age. He died about 1700 at his house in James Street, Covent Garden. ↩
Duarte de Silva is mentioned in the Earl of Sandwich’s letter to Lord Chancellor Clarendon (dated May 15th, 1662) as “the man that is to make all good.” Clarendon called him “Diego Silvas, a Jew of great wealth and full credit at Amsterdam” (see Lister’s Life of Clarendon, iii 193). ↩
Secretary and chancellor to the Queen Dowager. —B. ↩
Lee Bayly is a hamlet in the parish of Newland, Gloucestershire. ↩
In 1662 was passed “An Act for providing of carriage by land and by water for the use of His Majesty’s Navy and Ordinance” (13–14 Gar. II, cap. 20), which gave power for impressing seamen, etc. ↩
Mentioned elsewhere as “My cousin in Ireland.” He was son of Lord Chief Justice Richard Pepys. ↩
Anne, daughter of Sir John Harrison, of Balls, Herts, born in Hart Street, St. Olave’s, March 25th, 1625; married Richard Fanshawe, May 18th, 1644. Her memoirs of her husband, Sir Richard Fanshawe, were first printed in 1829. She died January 30th, 1679–80. ↩
The Royal James (previously The Richard) was a second-rate of seventy guns, built at Woolwich, by Christopher Pett, in 1658. There was another second-rate of sixty guns named The James, which was built at Deptford, by Peter Pett, in 1633 (see List of the Royal Navy in 1660, Archæologia, vol. xlviii, p. 167). ↩
Daniell O’Neille (as he himself signed his name), son of Con. O’Niel and nephew of the celebrated Irish leader General Owen O’Niel, was a wealthy man of good family, who was active during the Civil War in support of Charles I. He was concerned in 1641 with Digby, Wilmot, Goring, and Ashburnham, in the “Army Plot,” the object of which was to support the king, uphold the church, and overawe the parliament. He was placed in the Tower, but managed to escape in woman’s clothes, and a few months later he was Lieutenant-Colonel of Horse under Rupert. At Marston he led Prince Rupert’s regiment of foot, and in 1658 he accompanied the Marquis of Ormonde in disguise to London, and remained there some time, holding meetings with the Royalists, and sounding them as to the prospect of a successful rising against Cromwell (see The Pythouse Papers, ed. W. A. Day, 1879, pp. lv-lvii, 25). A full description is given in O’Neille’s monumental inscription, in Boughton-Malherbe Church, Kent:
“Here lies the Body of Mr. Daniel O’Neale, who descended from that great, honourable and ancient family of the O’Neales, in Ireland, to whom he added new lustre by his own merit, being rewarded for his courage and loyalty in the civil wars, under King Charles the First and Charles the Second, wth the offices of Postmaster General of England, Scotland, and Ireland, Master of the Powder, and Groome of His Majtyes Bedchamber. He was married to the right honourable Katherine Countess of Chesterfield, who erected him this monument, as one of the last markes of her kindness, to show her affection longer than her weak breath would serve to express it. He died A.D. 1663, aged 60.”
This date must be incorrect, as Pepys records O’Neille’s death on October 24th, 1664, and is corroborated in his statement by a letter from Ed. Savage to Dr. Sancroft (Harl. MS. 3785, fol. 19). The monument is not now in the church, and it is therefore impossible to verify the inscription (see vol. iv, p. 273). ↩
Pepys mentions, on March 4th, 1663–4, “a new-fashion gun to shoot often, one after another,” but he does not mention Sir William Compton’s name in connection with it. ↩
Pepys gives some particulars about the Chest on November 13th, 1662.
“The Chest at Chatham was originally planned by Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Hawkins in 1588, after the defeat of the Armada; the seamen voluntarily agreed to have ‘defalked’ out of their wages certain sums to form a fund for relief. The property became considerable, as well as the abuses, and in 1802 the Chest was removed to Greenwich. In 1817, the stock amounted to £300,000 Consols.”
The umbles are the liver, kidneys, and other portions of the inside of the deer. They were usually made into pies, and old cookery books contain directions for the making of “umble pies.” ↩
Lady Castlemaine repaired to Richmond Palace, the residence of her uncle, Colonel Edward Villiers (see Steinman’s Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, 1871, p. 34). ↩
This was a MS. of ninety folio pages, entitled, A Brief Discourse of the Navy, and appears afterwards to have been in the possession of Sir William Penn. At the end is written, “Composed by Mr. John Holland 29º 7bris 1638.” Attached to the MS. is a note in the handwriting of William Penn the Quaker, of the date 1675–6, giving direction to a transcriber to make a copy of it for himself, but adding this prohibition, “I will part with no copy.” The transcript is now in the British Museum (Sloane MSS., No. 3232), and forms part of “Sir William Penn’s Naval Tracts,” but the author’s name at the end is omitted. —Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Pennii 530 ↩
The boy was born in June at Lady Castlemaine’s house in King Street. By the direction of Lord Castlemaine, who had become a Roman Catholic, the child was baptized by a priest, and this led to a final separation between husband and wife. Some days afterwards the child was again baptized by the rector of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, in presence of the godparents, the King, Aubrey De Vere, Earl of Oxford, and Barbara, Countess of Suffolk, first Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen and Lady Castlemaine’s aunt. The entry in the register of St. Margaret’s is as follows: “1662 June 18 Charles Palmer Ld Limbricke, s. to ye right honorble Roger Earl of Castlemaine by Barbara” (Steinman’s Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, 1871, p. 33). The child was afterwards called Charles Fitzroy, and was created Duke of Southampton in 1674. He succeeded his mother in the dukedom of Cleveland in 1709, and died 1730. ↩
There was no Duchess of Suffolk at this time. The lady referred to was Barbara, eldest daughter of Sir Edward Villiers, widow of Richard Wenman, eldest son of Philip, third Viscount Wenman, an Irish peer, and second wife of James Howard, third Earl of Suffolk. ↩
“By the King’s command Lord Clarendon, much against his inclination, had twice visited his royal mistress with a view of inducing her, by persuasions which he could not justify, to give way to the King’s determination to have Lady Castlemaine of her household. … Lord Clarendon has given a full account of all that transpired between himself, the King and the Queen, on this very unpleasant business (Continuation of Life of Clarendon, 1759, ff. 168–178).”
Steinman’s Memoir of Duchess of Cleveland, p. 35
“The day at length arrived when Lady Castlemaine was to be formally admitted a Lady of the Bedchamber. The royal warrant, addressed to the Lord Chamberlain, bears date June 1, 1663, and includes with that of her ladyship, the names of the Duchess of Buckingham, the Countesses of Chesterfield and Bath, and the Countess Mareshall. A separate warrant of the same day directs his lordship to admit the Countess of Suffolk as Groom of the Stole and first Lady of the Bedchamber, to which undividable offices she had, with the additional ones of Mistress of the Robes and Keeper of the Privy Purse, been nominated by a warrant dated April 2, 1662, wherein the reception of her oath is expressly deferred until the Queen’s household shall be established. We here are furnished with the evidence that Charles would not sign the warrants for the five until Catherine had withdrawn her objection to his favourite one.”
Addenda to Steinman’s Memoir of Duchess of Cleveland (privately printed), 1874, p. 1
The old Tennis Court at Whitehall, built by Henry VIII, was converted by Charles II into lodgings for the Duke of Monmouth, and this garden was turned into the new Tennis Court, which was finished about the end of 1663. Captain Cooke, as Master of the Tennis Court, had apartments close by. (See Julian Marshall’s Annals of Tennis, 1878, pp. 86–88.) ↩
Mrs. Pepys’s father was Alexander Marchant, Sieur de St. Michel, a scion of a good family in Anjou. Having turned Huguenot at the age of twenty-one, his father disinherited him, and he was left penniless. He came over in the retinue of Henrietta Maria, on her marriage with Charles I, as one of her Majesty’s gentlemen carvers, but the Queen dismissed him on finding out he was a Protestant and did not go to mass. He described himself as being captain and major of English troops in Italy and Flanders.
Wheatley’s Pepys and the World He Lived In, pp. 6, 250
He was full of schemes; see September 22nd, 1663, for account of his patent for curing smoky chimneys. ↩
There is a token of Angus Brian at the George, Holborn Bridge. Boyne’s Tokens ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 630. ↩
Buckden, a village in Huntingdonshire, four miles southwest of Huntingdon. ↩
William Crofts, created Baron Crofts, of Saxham, in Suffolk, 1658, and died s. p. 1677. Governor to the King’s son (afterwards the Duke of Monmouth), who bore his name before he took that of Scott from his wife. ↩
Giles Rawlings occurs in an old household book of James, Duke of York at Audley End, as Gentleman of the Privy Purse to his Royal Highness, with a salary of £400 per annum. See August 19th, post. —B. ↩
The game of shovelboard was played by two players (each provided with five coins) on a smooth heavy table. On the table were marked with chalk a series of lines, and the play was to strike the coin on the edge of the table with the hand so that it rested between these lines. Shakespeare uses the expression “shove-groat shilling,” as does Ben Jonson. These shillings were usually smooth and worn for the convenience of playing. Strutt says (Sports and Pastimes), “I have seen a shovelboard table at a low public house in Benjamin Street, near Clerkenwell Green, which is about three feet in breadth and thirty-nine feet two inches in length, and said to be the longest at this time in London.” ↩
The Sovereign was a first-rate of one hundred guns, built at Woolwich, by Captain Phineas Pett, sen., in 1637. ↩
Upnor Castle, Kent, was erected by Queen Elizabeth to defend the passage of the Medway. In 1677 the Dutch were prevented from going up the river by this fort. ↩
William Barker, who married Martha, daughter of William Turner, and widow of Daniel Williams. His son William was created a baronet in 1676. ↩
Hugh Cholmeley, afterwards the third baronet of that name; he was the second son of Sir Hugh Cholmeley, of Whitby (governor of Scarborough for Charles I), whose autobiography has been printed. This Hugh succeeded his nephew of the same name, who died a minor in June, 1665, after which date Pepys speaks of him by his title. In February, 1666, he married Lady Anne Compton, eldest daughter of Spencer, Earl of Northampton. He was afterwards, for some years, governor of Tangier, of which he published an account. He died January 9th, 1688. He was descended from a younger branch of that great family of Egertons and Cholmondeleys. —B. ↩
Sir Daniel Harvey, M.P. for Surrey 1661, ambassador to Turkey 1668, who married Elizabeth Montagu. ↩
John Bland published in 1660 a quarto pamphlet of fifty-seven pages, entitled, Trade Revived, or a Way Proposed to Restore the Trade of This Our English Nation in Its Manufactories, Coin, Shiping, and Revenue. London, 1660, a copy of which is in the British Museum Library. ↩
Sir John Millicent, Bart., of Barham, in Cambridgeshire. ↩
When the first editions of this Diary were printed no note was required here. Before the erection of the present London Bridge the fall of water at the ebb tide was great, and to pass at that time was called “Shooting the bridge.” It was very hazardous for small boats. The ancient mode, even in Henry VIII’s time, of going to the Tower and Greenwich, was to land at the Three Cranes, in Upper Thames Street, suffer the barges to shoot the bridge, and to enter them again at Billingsgate. See Cavendish’s Wolsey, p. 40, ed. 1852. ↩
The Savoy Palace in the Strand, a considerable part of which existed so lately as 1816. —B. ↩
William Bates, D.D. (born 1625, died 1699), called the “silver-tongued” divine. He was appointed to the living of St. Dunstan’s in the West, which he retained till the Act of Uniformity was passed. His farewell sermon was preached on the 17th of this same month, see post. He took part in the negotiations for the restoration of Charles II. ↩
Thomas Gouge (1609–1681), an eminent Presbyterian minister, son of William Gouge, D.D. (lecturer at and afterwards Rector of St. Anne’s, Blackfriars). He was vicar of the parish of St. Sepulchre from 1638 until the Act of Uniformity, in 1662, forced him to resign his living. ↩
Sir William Turner, Merchant Taylor, Lord Mayor of London, 1668–69. ↩
A mistake for Bludworth. He had been Colonel of the Orange Regiment of the Trained Bands. Lord Mayor, 1665–66. ↩
Where he was Dean of St. Patrick’s. He became Bishop of Limerick in 1663. ↩
Anthony Deane, eldest son of Anthony Deane, mariner of Harwich, Essex, was born about 1638, celebrated as a shipbuilder. He was appointed to Woolwich dockyard at the Restoration, and was subsequently master shipwright at Harwich in 1664, and at Portsmouth in 1668. In 1672 he was Commissioner of the Navy at Portsmouth, and in 1675 Comptroller of the Victualling, and was knighted about that time. He was M.P. for Shoreham in 1678, and for Harwich in 1679 and 1685 (with Pepys), and elected Fellow of the Royal Society in 1681. He was committed to the Tower with Pepys in 1679, and discharged in the following year. He died in Charterhouse Square in 1721 (see Duckett’s Naval Commissioners, 1889, p. 71). ↩
William Brouncker, second Viscount Brouncker of Castlelyons in the Irish peerage; created M.D., at Oxford, in 1647; Keeper of the Great Seal to Queen Katharine, a Commissioner of the Admiralty, and Master of St. Catherine’s Hospital. He was a man of considerable talents, and the first President of the Royal Society. He died April 5th, 1684, aged sixty-four. There is a fine portrait of him, by Lely, at Hagiey (Lord Lyttelton’s), and another by the same painter in the rooms of the Royal Society. See post, March 24th, 1667. ↩
On St. Bartholomew’s day, August 24th, 1662, the Act of Uniformity took effect, and about two hundred Presbyterian and Independent ministers lost their preferments. ↩
The Forest of Essex was known from the beginning of the fourteenth century as Waltham Forest, and in later times as Epping Forest. It was described by Sir Robert Heath, Attorney-General, in his pleadings in 1628, “as having a very fertile and fruitful soil, and being full of most pleasant and delightful plains and lawns, most useful and commodious for hunting and chasing of the game of red and fallow deer,” and as “having been always especially and above all their other forests, prized and esteemed by the King’s Majesty and his said noble progenitors the Kings and Queens of this Realm of England, as well for his and their own pleasure, disport, and recreation from those pressing cares for the public weal and safety which are inseparably incident to their kingly office, as for the entertainment of foreign Princes and Embassadors, thereby to show unto them the honour and magnificence of the Kings and Queens of this Realm.” Sir William Hicks held the office of Deputy of Sub-Warden (called Lieutenant of the Forest) from 1640 to 1670. Pepys refers to him on September 11th and 13th, 1665, and on the latter day he visited his house, Ruckholts at Leyton, where he was not very well entertained (see note 2660 and note 2663). About 1668 a restraint on the killing of deer was ordered, and in 1670 Sir William Hicks was fined £50 for not making it appear that he had published this warrant to the keepers, whereby deer had been killed, particularly for himself. Sir William Hicks died in 1680, and on his monument in Leyton Church he is represented in a recumbent position, holding a baton in his hand as Lieutenant of Waltham Forest. He was an ancestor of the Rt. Hon. Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, M.P., Chancellor of the Exchequer. Much timber fit for the use of the Navy was obtained from that part of the forest known as Hainault. (See W. R. Fisher’s Forest of Essex, pp. 1, 2, 120, 218, 240). ↩
Lord Braybrooke noted that off-square is evidently a mistake in the shorthand MS. for half-square, which is explained in W. Leybourn’s Complete Surveyor, third edition, London, 1674, folio, and he then quoted a series of calculations which, as they do not throw much light on the text, are omitted. Lord Braybrooke adds: “It is to be hoped that Pepys carried out his intention of putting an end to the nefarious practice of cheating the King in the purchase of timber. He speaks of it in good faith, and his term, mystery, simply implies his ignorance of the art of measuring. With regard to Sir William Warren, the case was probably different: he made large presents to Pepys, and confesses that he perjured himself before the Committee of the House of Commons, in concealing the fact. Frauds in the supply of timber for the use of the Navy have been common subjects of complaint at a much later period.” ↩
Henry Jermyn, younger nephew of the Earl of St. Albans. He was created Baron Jermyn of Dover, 1685, and died in 1708, s. p.; his elder brother, Thomas, became second Baron Jermyn of Bury St. Edmund’s, on the death of his uncle, the Earl of St. Albans, in 1683, and died unmarried in 1703. Thomas Jermyn was Governor of Jersey. ↩
“. Capt. Thomas Howard, the Earl of Carlisle’s brother, and the Lord Dillon’s son, a Colonel, met with Mr. Giles Rawlings, privy purse to the D. of York, and Mr. Jermyn, the Earl of St. Alban’s nephew. … There had been a slight quarrel betwixt them, and as they, Rawlings and Jermyn, came from tennis, these two drew at them, and then Col. Dillon killed this Mr. Rawlings dead upon the spot. Mr. Jermyn was left for dead. This Captain Howard was unfortunate since the return of his Majy, in killing a horse-courser man in St. Giles, Mr. Rawlings was much lamented; he lived in a very handsome state, six horses in his coach, three footmen, etc. Oct. Capt. Thomas Howard, and Lord Dillon’s son, both of them fled about the killing of Mr. Giles Rawlings; but after a quarter of a year they came into England, and were acquitted by law.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
Thomas Howard, fourth son of Sir William Howard, was afterwards a colonel in the army, and third husband of Mary, Duchess of Richmond (see ante, April 21st, 1662). ↩
Colonel Cary Dillon, youngest son of Robert, second Earl of Roscommon (then Lord Dillon), who is previously referred to as the suitor of the beautiful Frances Boteler (or Butler), and not, as stated in former editions of the Diary, Charles, eldest son of James, fourth Viscount Dillon. Cary Dillon succeeded his nephew the poet, in 1684, as fifth Earl of Roscommon. He married Katharine, daughter of John Werden of Chester, and died November 25th, 1689. ↩
Hamilton gives the following account of the duel, which arose from rivalry between Howard and Jermyn about Lady Shrewsbury:
“Jermyn prit pour second, Giles Rawlings, homme de bonne fortune, et gros joueur. Howard se servit de Dillon, adroit et brave, fort honnête homme, et par malheur intime ami de Rawlings. Dans ce combat, la fortune ne fut point pour les favoris de l’amour. Le pauvre Rawlings y fut tué tout roide, et Jermyn, percé de trois coups d’épée, fut porté chez son oncle, avec fort peu de signes de vie.”
The old Pall Mall represents the present street, which was so called when the Mall was made in St. James’s Park. ↩
A Moorish usurper, who had put himself at the head of an army for the purpose of attacking Tangier. —B. ↩
Sir Heneage Finch, Bart., was Solicitor-General from 1660 to 1670, in which latter year he became Attorney-General. He was created Earl of Nottingham in 1681. ↩
This must be some friend of Pepys who is unknown to fame. In former editions the passage in the text has been supposed to refer to John Hales of Eton, but the “ever-memorable” Hales died some years before (on May 19th, 1656). ↩
The Steelyard, Steleyard, or Stilliard, the hall of the Hanse merchants, stood in Upper Thames Street, where the Cannon Street station now stands. The superficial area of the place amounted to four acres. The principal entrance in Thames Street was formed by stone gateways. The ground floors of the buildings between these gates were devoted to the Rhenish wine tavern frequently alluded to by Pepys. ↩
The landing stage or stairs at Whitehall. These places were frequently called bridges. ↩
The engagement was broken off on account of the insufficiency of the lady’s portion (see post, October 22nd). ↩
Thomas Povy, who had held, under Cromwell, a high situation in the Office of Plantations, was appointed in July, 1660, Treasurer and Receiver-General of the Rents and Revenues of James, Duke of York; but his royal master’s affairs falling into confusion, he surrendered his patent on the 27th July, 1668, for a consideration of £2,000. He was also First Treasurer for Tangier, which office he resigned to Pepys. Povy, had apartments at Whitehall, besides his lodgings in Lincoln’s Inn, and a villa near Hounslow, called the Priory, which he had inherited from Justinian Povy, who purchased it in 1625. He was one of the sons of Justinian Povy, Auditor-General to Queen Anne of Denmark in 1614, whose father was John Povy, citizen and embroiderer of London. Justinian obtained a grant of arms: sable, a bend engrailed between six cinquefoils, or with an annulet for difference. Thomas Povy had two brothers—Richard, who was Commissioner-General of Provisions at Jamaica; and William, Provost-Marshal at Barbados. Evelyn describes Thomas Povy, then one of the Masters of Requests (Diary, February 29th, 1675–6), as “a nice contriver of all elegancies, and exceedingly formal.” By Pepys’s report, he was “a wretched accountant.” His letter-books are in the British Museum. —B. ↩
Alexander Burnett, M.D., who lived in Fenchurch Street. He died of the plague, August 25th, 1665. ↩
St. Matthew’s Church was situated on the west side of Friday Street, near Cheapside. It was destroyed in the Great Fire, and rebuilt under Sir Christopher Wren. This building was pulled down in 1881. ↩
A nickname given by the Dissenters to the Prayerbook. In Mrs. Behn’s City Heiress (1682), Sir Anthony says to Sir Timothy, “You come from Church, too.” Sir Timothy replies, “Ay, needs must when the Devil drives—I go to save my bacon, as they say, once a month, and that too after the Porridge is served up.” Scott quotes, in his notes to Woodstock, a pamphlet entitled, Vindication of the Book of Common Prayer, Against the Contumelious Slanders of the Fanatic Party Terming It Porridge. ↩
Durdans, a famous house near Epsom, then occupied by Lord Berkeley. ↩
The Breda (previously the Nantwich) was a fourth-rate of forty guns, built at Bristol in 1654. ↩
The Weymouth was a sixth-rate of nineteen guns. There were two vessels named the Success—the Old Success, a fifth-rate of thirty-four guns, and the Success (previously the Bradford), a fifth-rate of twenty-four guns (see List of the Royal Navy in 1660, Archæologia, vol. xlviii, p. 167). ↩
Cromwell had considered the 3rd of September as the most fortunate day of his life, on account of his victories at Dunbar and Worcester. It was also remarkable for the great storm that occurred at the time of his death; and as being the day on which the Fire of London, in 1666, burnt with the greatest fury. —B. ↩
Gilbert Sheldon, born July 19th, 1598; Fellow of All Souls, Oxford, 1622; Warden, 1635; Bishop of London, 1660–63; Archbishop of Canterbury, 1663. Died November 9th, 1677. ↩
John Bruce, M.P., F.R.S., drew up a very important report for the use of the Privy Council, which was privately printed in 1799. It is entitled, “Report on the Arrangements made for the Internal Defence of this Kingdom when Spain by its Armada projected the invasion of England.” ↩
For previous references to the Dutch and English yachts, see note 648 and note 784. ↩
The Commissioners of Customs, appointed September 20th, 1660, were: Sir Job Harby. Sir John Wolstenholme; created a baronet, 1664; an intimate friend of Lord Clarendon’s; and Collector outward for the Port of London; died 1679. Sir John Jacob, of Bromley, Middlesex; created a baronet, 1664, for his loyalty and zeal for the royal family; his third wife was a daughter of Sir John Ashburnham; died 1665–66. Sir Nicholas Crisp (see note 214). Sir John Harrison, of Balls, Herts (now the seat of the Marquis Townshend). Audrey Harrison, daughter of Edward Harrison of Balls, brought the property into the Townshend family by her marriage with Charles, third Viscount Townshend. Sir John Shaw, a Farmer of the Customs, was created a baronet, in 1665, for his services in lending the King large sums of money during his exile; died 1679–80. ↩
In 1583; the object of his mission being to persuade the Muscovite (Ivan IV the Terrible) to a peace with John, King of Sweden. He was also employed to confirm the trade of the English with Russia, and having incurred some personal danger, was received with favour on his return by the Queen. He died in 1616. There is a portrait of him in Lord Suffolk’s Gallery at Charlton, Wilts. —B. ↩
The Council of State sitting at Whitehall, says Lilly (Life, p. 124), had no knowledge of what was passing out of doors, until Sir Martin Noel, a discreet citizen, came about nine at night, and informed them thereof. From this notice, Noel has been considered as the original of the messenger who brings the news of the burning of the Rumps, so admirably related in Hudibras, part iii, canto 11, l. 1497. We know nothing further about Sir Martin, except that he was a scrivener, and that Pepys records his death of the plague, in 1665. His son, of the same name, was knighted in November, 1665. —B. ↩
Francis Wilford, D.D., Master of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, made Dean of Ely, May 20th, 1662. He died in July, 1667, being then Vice-Chancellor, and was buried in the chapel of his college. —B. ↩
James, the son of Charles II by Lucy Walter, daughter of William Walter, of Roch Castle, co. Pembroke. He was born April 9th, 1649, and landed in England with the Queen-Mother, July 28th, 1662, when he bore the name of Crofts, after Lord Crofts, his governor. He was created Duke of Monmouth, February 14th, 1663, and married Lady Anne Scott, daughter and heiress of Francis, second Earl of Buccleuch, on April 20th following. In 1673 he took the name of Scott, and was created Duke of Buccleuch. ↩
Epictetus, Encheiridion, i 1: τῶν ὅντων τὰ μέν ἐστιν ὲφ’ ἡμῖν τὰ δε οῦκ “Some things are in our power, others are not.” Pepys means, “I ought not to vex myself about what I cannot control.” ↩
Charles II determined to form his own chapel on the model of that at Versailles. Twenty-four instrumentalists were engaged, and this was the first day upon which they were brought into requisition. Evelyn alludes to the change in his Diary, but he puts the date down as the 21st instead of the 14th. “Instead of the ancient, grave and solemn wind musiq accompanying the organ, was introduc’d a concert of 24 violins between every pause after the French fantastical light way, better suiting a tavern or playhouse than a church. This was the first time of change, and now we no more heard the cornet which gave life to the organ, that instrument quite left off in which the English were so skilful.” A list of the twenty-four fiddlers in 1674, taken from an Exchequer document, “The names of the Gents of his Majesties Private Music paid out of the Exchequer,” is printed in North’s Memoires of Music, ed. Rimbault, 1846, p. 98 (note). ↩
Alderman Francis Meynell was a goldsmith and banker in London, and then one of the sheriffs. He was the third son of Godfrey Meynell, of Willington, in Derbyshire, and died in 1666; his father was buried at Langley, in that county, where their descendants still possess property. Sir W. Dugdale, in his Diary, mentions his having defaced the achievements which had been hung up at Bradley, in Derbyshire, where the alderman was interred: not, as it would seem, from any doubt as to that gentleman being entitled to bear arms, but because a London painter had been employed to blazon the shield who had not obtained the sanction of the Heralds’ Office, and thereby excited their jealousy at a moment when their occupation was on the decline. —B. ↩
William Ashburnham, Cofferer of the King’s Household. ↩
It is not certain where this chapel was situated, but it was probably the same as that attached to Marlborough House, and known as the German Chapel. This chapel is said to have been built by Inigo Jones for the use of Queen Henrietta Maria, and it was, therefore, suitable for the Roman Catholic service. ↩
Pepys himself gives an account of this custom; see May 18th, 1660. ↩
Colonel Fitzgerald was Deputy-Governor of Tangier. ↩
Lord Braybrooke says that this was a mistake for Nicholas Burt, but there was an actor at this time named Theophilus Bird. ↩
Aglaura, a tragicomedy by Sir John Suckling, first published in 1638. ↩
“The French church in the Savoy” was established by Charles II. It was removed to Bloomsbury Street, and the present building, designed by Ambrose Poynter, architect, 1845–46. The Common Prayer Book In French is still used there. ↩
This seems to be the only mention of the acting of Shakespeare’s play at this time, and it does not appear to have been a favourite. ↩
A tragedy by John Webster, first published in 1623. The character of Bosola was taken by Betterton, and that of the Duchess of Malfy by Mary Saunderson, shortly afterwards his wife (Ianthe). The acting is highly praised by Downes. ↩
Two acts were passed in 1662 for this purpose, viz., 13 and 14 Car. II cap. 8: “An act for distribution of threescore thousand pounds amongst the truly loyal and indigent commission officers, and for assessing of offices and distributing the monies thereby raised for their further supply;” and cap. 9, “An act for the relief of poor and maimed officers and soldiers who have faithfully served his Majesty and his royal father in the late wars.” ↩
A tragedy by James Shirley, licensed on November 25th, 1641, and printed in 1652. ↩
See ante, September 12th, where the incident is mentioned. ↩
John Dekins (or Dickens), previously mentioned in the Diary, from whom the Navy Office bought hemp (see January 27th, 1661–62). ↩
Elizabeth Dekins (or Dickens), a brunette, sometimes described as “Morena” (the Portuguese term for a dark-complexioned woman, probably introduced with Queen Catherine of Braganza, who was also a brunette), and sometimes as “a black girl.” She died shortly after this entry was made, and was buried in Allhallows Barking Church, October 22nd (see note 1576). ↩
The Satisfaction was a Dutch prize. It was a fifth-rate of twenty-six guns. ↩
A lace band, the edges of which were indented with segments of circles, so as to resemble a scallop shell. The word “scallop” was used till recently for a part of a lady’s dress embroidered and cut to resemble a scallop shell. ↩
Afterwards agent in Holland for James II, who made use of him to inveigle over to England the Duke of Monmouth. —B. ↩
Paulina, daughter of Talbot Pepys of Impington, and sister of Roger and of Dr. John Pepys, married Hamond Claxton. She was born at Norwich, January 30th, 1622. ↩
Oliver St. John, Solicitor-General, 1641–43, and Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 1648; one of Cromwell’s Lords, and therefore, after the Restoration, properly called “My late Lord.” His third daughter, Elizabeth, by his second wife, daughter of Henry Cromwell of Upwood, uncle to the Protector, married John Bernard, who succeeded to the baronetcy on the death of his father, Sir Robert, in 1666, and was M.P. for Huntingdon. St. John died December 31st, 1673, at the age of seventy-five. There is a monument to his memory in Brampton Church, Huntingdonshire. ↩
That is, “undressing.” So of the French lords leaping over the walls in their shirts
A musical instrument with wire strings, and sounded with a plectrum; used as a bass to the cittern. The banjo is a modification of the bandore, as the name is a negro corruption of that word. ↩
A blast of trumpets, intended as a reveillée, from French lever.
“First he that led the Cavalcade Wore a Sow-gelder’s Flagellet, On which he blew as strong a Levet As well-feed Lawyer on his breviate.”
Theobalds, a royal palace and park in the parish of Cheshunt, Herts. The house was built by Sir William Cecil (afterwards Lord Burghley) in 1560. James I exchanged Hatfield with the Earl of Salisbury for this estate. Charles II granted Theobalds to Monk, Duke of Albemarle, but at the death of his son it reverted to the crown. The last vestiges of the palace were destroyed in 1765. ↩
The Satisfaction was a Dutch prize, a fifth-rate of twenty-six guns. ↩
Henry Bennet was born 1618, and knighted in 1657; M.P. for Kellington, 1663–65. Created Baron Arlington, 1665, and Viscount Thetford and Earl of Arlington, 1672. In the latter year he was also created a Knight of the Garter. He died July 28th, 1685. Isabella, his daughter and sole heir married the first Duke of Grafton in 1682. ↩
Created Baron Berkeley of Rathdown, and Viscount Fitzharding of Bearhaven (in Ireland), 1663; and, in 1665, Baron Botetort, and Earl of Falmouth, in England. Died June 3rd, 1665. He was the second son of Sir Charles Berkeley of Bruton. ↩
The child was owned by neither of the royal brothers. —B. ↩
The Earl of St. Albans was never appointed Lord Treasurer. ↩
Christopher Merrett, M.D., a native of Gloucestershire, born February 16th, 1614, a friend of Harvey, and author of several works on medicine and natural history. Expelled from his Fellowship of the Royal College of Physicians, September 30th, 1681. He died at his house in Hatton Garden, August 19th, 1695. ↩
A treaty was signed on the 27th October by which Dunkirk was sold to France for five million livres, two of which were to be paid immediately, and the remaining three by eight bills at dates varying from three months to two years; during which time the King of England was to contribute the aid of a naval force, if necessary, for defence against Spain. Subsequently the remaining three millions were reduced to 2,500,000 to be paid at Paris, and 254,000 in London. It is not known that Clarendon suggested the sale of Dunkirk, but it is certain that he adopted the measure with zeal. There is also no doubt that he got as much as France could be induced to give.
“The Villain, a tragedy which I have seen acted at the Duke’s Theatre with great applause: the part of Malignii being incomparably played by Mr. Sandford.”
Langbaine, p. 407
“This person [Sandford] acted strongly with his face; and, as King Charles said, was the best villain in the world.”
Peter Lely, who was knighted by Charles II. He lived for a time in Drury Lane, but in 1662 he moved to a house in the Piazza, Covent Garden. He died of apoplexy, 1680, and left an estate in Lincolnshire of £800 a year. His collection of pictures and drawings was very fine, and realized £26,000 when sold by auction. ↩
From Epictetus, Encheiridion, i 1. See ante, September 9th (note 1534), where Pepys uses the same quotation. ↩
Nicholas Lechmere, born September, 1613, called to the bar in 1641, and elected a bencher of the Middle Temple in 1655. He took the side of the Parliament, and was afterwards a staunch supporter of Richard Cromwell; but he made his peace with Charles II, and obtained a full pardon at Breda. At the age of seventy-six he was made a Baron of the Exchequer (May 4th, 1689), and knighted. He died April 30th, 1701. ↩
Mary Saunderson, famous for acting the character of Ianthe in Davenant’s Siege of Rhodes. The marriage licence of “Thomas Betterton, bachelor, of Westminster, aged about 30, and Mary Saunderson, of St. Giles, Cripplegate, spinster, about 25,” is dated December 24th, 1662. See Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 123. ↩
The burial of Elizabeth, daughter of John Dekins or Dickens, is recorded in the parish register of All Hallows, Barking, as having taken place on October 22nd. See ante, October 3rd. ↩
This passage, as well as one written on August 5th, 1662, for which he makes an excuse, is written quite plainly, and the manuscript is as neat as usual. ↩
There has been much confusion as to the name and parentage of Charles’s mistress. Lucy Walter was the daughter of William Walter of Roch Castle, co. Pembroke, and Mr. S. Steinman, in his Althorp Memoirs (privately printed, 1869), sets out her pedigree, which is a good one. Roch Castle was taken and burnt by the Parliamentary forces in 1644, and Lucy was in London in 1648, where she made the acquaintance of Colonel Algernon Sidney. She then fell into the possession of his brother, Colonel Robert Sidney. In September of this same year she was taken up by Charles, Prince of Wales. Charles terminated his connection with her on October 30th, 1651, and she died in 1658, as appears by a document (administration entry in the Register of the Prerogative Court) met with by the late Colonel Chester. William Erskine, who had served Charles as cupbearer in his wanderings, and was appointed Master of the Charterhouse in December, 1677, had the care of Lucy Walter, and buried her in Paris. He declared that the king never had any intention of marrying her, and she did not deserve it. Thomas Ross, the tutor of her son, put the idea of this claim into his head, and asked Dr. Cosin to certify to a marriage. In consequence of this he was removed from his office, and Lord Crofts took his place (Steinman’s Althorp Memoirs). Lucy Walter took the name of Barlow during her wanderings. ↩
Now Mincing Lane. Stow writes, “Mincheon Lane, so called of tenements there some time pertaining to the Minchuns or nuns of St. Helen’s in Bishopsgate Street.” ↩
Intended for John Barkstead, Lieutenant of the Tower under Cromwell. Committed to the Tower (see March 17th, 1661–62). ↩
Cold Harbour, in Upper Thames Street. The City of London Brewery (formerly Calvert’s), No. 89, Upper Thames Street, occupies the site. The name has not been satisfactorily explained. One explanation is that it is a corruption of Koelner Herberge, or inn of the Cologne merchants. ↩
Lady Elizabeth Butler, daughter of James Butler, first Duke of Ormond, second wife of Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield. She died July, 1665 (see Mémoires de Grammont, chap. viii). Peter Cunningham thinks that this banishment was only temporary, for, according to the Grammont Memoirs, she was in town when the Russian ambassador was in London, December, 1662, and January, 1662–63. “It appears from the books of the Lord Steward’s office … that Lord Chesterfield set out for the country on the 12th May, 1663, and, from his ‘Short Notes’ referred to in the Memoirs before his Correspondence, that he remained at Bretby, in Derbyshire, with his wife, throughout the summer of that year” (Story of Nell Gwyn, 1852, p. 189). ↩
Sir Richard Stayner’s funeral is mentioned on the 28th of this month. ↩
Thus in the MS., although the amount was first stated as £7,000 (see October 30th, 1662). ↩
Dr. Ball was at this time rector of the parish of St. Mary Woolchurch Haw, and in 1665 he became Master of the Temple. ↩
Henry Rich, second son of Robert, first Earl of Warwick, born about 1589; M.P. for Leicester, 1614. Created Lord Kensington March 8th, 1623. Ambassador Extraordinary to Paris, March 19th, 1624. He was advanced to the earldom of Holland, September 24th, 1624; K.G., 1625. Beheaded by the Parliament, March 9th, 1649. ↩
John Bridgeman, Bishop of Chester, ancestor of the present Earl of Bradford. He died in 1652 at Moreton in Shropshire, the seat of his son Orlando, who is styled in the text incorrectly his brother. In 1660 Orlando Bridgeman was created a baronet, and in the patent he was described as of Great Lever, in Lancashire, a property near Wigan. Ashton Hall, near Lancaster, was another seat of the family. (See ante, October 10th, 1660.) ↩
The two Gosnells. The Christian names of these two sisters are not known. No reference to the one who turned actress can be found in the ordinary sources of theatrical history. ↩
This was the Cockpit adjoining Whitehall Palace. The Scornful Lady was a comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, first published in 1616. ↩
This entry would appear to have been altered at a later date, as James Crofts or Fitzroy was not raised to the peerage and created Duke of Monmouth until February 14th, 1662–63. ↩
Edward Thurland, born at Reigate in 1606, and called to the bar by the Inner Temple on October 2nd, 1634; M.P. for Reigate, May, 1640, also in 1660 and 1661. Recorder of Reigate and Guildford, and appointed Solicitor to the Duke of York, when he was knighted. Baron of the Exchequer, 1673. Died December 10th, 1682. ↩
Mistake for Sir Matthew Hale, who, on Sir Orlando Bridgeman’s promotion to the Lord Chief Justiceship of the Common Pleas, was made Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer on November 7th, 1662. ↩
There is a copy of Bering’s Latin songs in the British Museum, entitled, Cantica Sacra ad duas et tres voces composita. London 1662, folio. —B. ↩
Hugh Audley died November 15th, 1662. Smyth, in his Obituary (p. 56), says he was sometime of the Court of Wards. There is an old tract called The Way to Be Rich, According to the Practice of the Great Audley, Who Began with £200 in 1605, and Died Worth £400,000, November, 1662. London, printed for E. Davies, 1662. ↩
1652, December 24th,
“Died John Daves, Old Jewry, broaker, a prisoner buried in St. Olave’s, Old Jewry: his son, Tho. Daves, a bookseller, was afterwards an alderman and Lord Mayor of London, enriched by the legacy of Hugh Audley.”
Peter Blondeau was employed by the Commonwealth to coin their money. After the Restoration, November 3rd, 1662, he received letters of denization, and a grant for being engineer of the Mint in the Tower of London, and for using his new invention for coining gold and silver with the mill and press, with the fee of £100 per annum (Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting). ↩
French carrefour, a place where four roads meet. In two ordinances of the reign of Edward III, printed in Riley’s Memorials of London (pp. 300, 389), this is called the “Carfukes,” which nearly approaches the name of the “Carfax,” at Oxford, where four ways also met. ↩
Ironmongers’ Hall, on the north side of Fenchurch Street, was much used in the seventeenth century for grand funerals and funeral banquets. The present hall was built in 1748. ↩
Sir Richard Stayner’s body was buried at Greenwich on the 28th November. ↩
A small sea-vessel used in the Dutch herring-fishery. ↩
Third son of Sir Conyers Darcy, created by patent, August 10th 1641 Baron Darcy. ↩
The French Protestant Church was founded by Edward VI in the church of St. Anthony’s Hospital in Threadneedle Street. This was destroyed in the Great Fire, and rebuilt, but demolished for the approaches of the new Royal Exchange. The church was then removed to St. Martin’s-le-Grand, but this was also removed in 1888 to make room for the new Post Office buildings. ↩
The fashion of men wearing muffs appears to have been introduced from France in this reign. ↩
Iron skates appear to have been introduced by the Dutch, as the name certainly was; but we learn from Fitzstephen that bone skates (although not so called) were used in London in the twelfth century. ↩
Pepys’s appointment as member of the Tangier Committee (see ante August 19th). ↩
William Lawes, the composer of psalms, was the elder brother of the more celebrated Henry Lawes. ↩
Andrew Rutherford, son of William Rutherford of Quarry-holes, went young into the French service, and became a lieutenant-general of that kingdom. At the Restoration he brought over an honourable testimony from the King of France, and was created a baron of Scotland, and in 1663 advanced to the earldom of Teviot for his management of the sale of Dunkirk, of which he was governor. He was afterwards appointed Governor of Tangier, and was killed by the Moors in 1664: dying without issue, his earldom became extinct; but the barony of Rutherford descended, according to the patent, to Sir Thomas Rutherford of Hunthill. —B. ↩
Sir John Berkenhead, LL.D., F.R.S., political writer on the Royalist side, born at Northwich, Cheshire; servitor at Oriel College, Oxford, and afterwards Fellow of All Souls; M.P. for Wilton, 1661, and knighted the following year; Master of the Faculty Office, and of the Court of Requests. Died at Whitehall, December, 1679, and buried in the churchyard of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. ↩
A tragicomedy, licensed May 27th, 1624, printed in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Works, 1647. Pepys does not appear to have seen it acted. ↩
Christopher Gibbons, son of the more famous Orlando Gibbons (who died June 5th, 1625). At the Restoration he was appointed organist to the King, and also to Westminster Abbey. He received the degree of Mus. D. in 1664 on the recommendation of Charles II, conveyed in an autograph letter to the University of Oxford. He died in 1676. ↩
William Brydges, succeeded his brother as seventh Baron Chandos of Sudeley, February, 1655. He died February, 1676–77. ↩
Lord Sandwich’s second son, who married afterwards Anne, daughter and heir of Sir Francis Wortley of Wortley, by whom he was father of Edward Wortley Montagu, the husband of the celebrated Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Their daughter married John Stuart, third Earl of Bute, whose second son took the name and estates of Wortley, and was father of the first Lord Wharncliffe. —B. ↩
The Bills of Mortality for London were first compiled by order of Thomas Cromwell about 1538, and the keeping of them was commenced by the Company of Parish Clerks in the great plague year of 1593. The bills were issued weekly from 1603. The charter of the Parish Clerks’ Company (1611) directs that “each parish clerk shall bring to the Clerks’ Hall weekly a note of all christenings and burials.” Charles I in 1636 granted permission to the Parish Clerks to have a printing press and employ a printer in their hall for the purpose of printing their weekly bills. ↩
Boulogne. These pictures were given by George III to the Society of Antiquaries, who in return presented to the king a set of Thomas Hearne’s works, on large paper. The pictures were reclaimed by George IV, and are now at Hampton Court. They were exhibited in the Tudor Exhibition, 1890. They have been engraved in the “Vetusta Monumenta,” published by the Society of Antiquaries. The set of Hearne’s works is now in the King’s Library, in the British Museum. ↩
George Morley, D.D., Bishop of Winchester, to which see he was translated from Worcester in 1662. He died October 29th, 1684, aged eighty-seven years. ↩
The national Christmas dish of plum pudding is a modern evolution from plum porridge, which was probably similar to the dish still produced at Windsor Castle. ↩
The first edition of Butler’s Hudibras is dated 1663, and it probably had only been published a few days when Pepys bought it and sold it at a loss. He subsequently endeavoured to appreciate the work, but was not successful. The edition in the Pepysian Library is dated 1689. ↩
“On Monday last, betwixt two and three in the afternoon. His Majesty gave audience to the great Lord Ambassador, the great Duke and governor of Toulsky, Peeter, the son of Simon, surnamed Prozorofskee, to the Lord Governor of Coarmeski, John, the son of Offonassey, surnamed Zelebousky, and Juan Stephano, Chancellor, etc. Ambassadors from the Emperor of Russia. They passed along from York House to Whitehall through his Majesties guards who stood on both sides of the street, and made a lane for their more orderly procession.”
Coranto, from Italian corranta. A swift and lively dance.
“And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos.”
Shakespeare, Henry V, act iii, sc. 5
“A kinde of French-dance.”
Florio
Sir John Davies describes this dance in his poem on Dancing. ↩
The tune of “Cuckolds all a row” is given in Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i, p. 341. ↩
Sir Henry de Vic of Guernsey, a connection of the Carteret family. He was for twenty years Resident at Brussels, and was created a baronet September 3rd, 1649. He was Chanceller of the Order of the Garter. He married his cousin, Margaret, third daughter of Sir Philip Carteret of St. Ouen, Jersey, and his only daughter, Anne Charlotte, married John, Lord Frescheville. He died November 20th, 1671, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Charles Gerard, son of Sir Charles Gerard, created Baron Gerard of Brandon by Charles I, November 8th, 1645, raised a regiment of foot and a troop of horse, and distinguished himself in the king’s service during the Civil Wars. He was a gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber to Charles II, and captain of the Life Guards. Created Earl of Macclesfield, July 23rd, 1679. His wife, mentioned subsequently, was Jane de Civell, daughter of Pierre de Civell (equerry to Queen Henrietta Maria). He died January 7th, 1694. Not long after this Charles II affronted Lady Gerard, probably at the instigation of Lady Castlemaine (see March 7th, 1662–63). ↩
Davenant’s Company, called from being under the patronage of the Duke of York, the Duke’s Company, began to play at Salisbury Court Theatre on November 15th, 1660. The company removed to Portugal Row, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, in June, 1661. Davenant’s Theatre is usually called the Opera, to distinguish it from the Theatre of the King’s Company. ↩
Thomas Allen (or Allin) of Blundeston, born 1612. He commanded a ship in the fleet that seceded to the Prince of Wales (Charles II) in 1648. He was appointed to command the Dover in 1660, and successively commanded the Plymouth, the Foresight, the Lion, and the Rainbow. He succeeded Lawson in command of the Mediterranean squadron in 1664. Elder Brother of the Trinity House, 1666; Comptroller of the Navy, 1671. Created a baronet in 1673 in consideration of his gallant services; Commander-in-chief of the Channel Fleet, 1678. Died 1685. ↩
Pepys saw Tom Killigrew’s play, Claracilla, for the first time on July 4th, 1661. ↩
Scar-fire or scarefire. An alarm of fire. One of the little pieces in Herrick’s Hesperides is entitled The Scar-Fire, but the word sometimes was used, as in the text, for the fire itself. Fuller, in his Worthies, speaks of quenching scare-fires. ↩
Pepys saw Twelfth Night for the first time on September 11th, 1661, when he supposed it was a new play, and “took no pleasure at all in it.” ↩
Sir Samuel Tuke, of Temple Cressy, colonel of horse in the king’s service during the Civil War, and afterwards engaged in the rising in Essex under Capel, Lucas, and Lisle. He became a proselyte to the Church of Rome about 1658; and on March 31st, 1664, he was created a baronet. He was one of the first Fellows of the Royal Society. He married Mary Sheldon, one of Queen Catherine’s dressers, and died at Somerset House, January 26th, 1673. His play, The Adventures of Five Hours, was founded on a play by Calderon, and undertaken on the suggestion of the king, who recommended him to adapt a Spanish play to the English stage. It was first published in 1663, and is reprinted in Dodsley’s Old Plays (Hazlitt’s edition, 1876, vol. xv). Evelyn refers to the play in his Diary (December 23rd, 1662), but by a slip of the pen attributes it to Sir George Tuke. ↩
The usual word at this time for a lover. We have continued the correlative term “mistress,” but rejected that of “servant.” ↩
The construction of this Mole or breakwater turned out a very costly undertaking. In April, 1663, it was found that the charge for one year’s work was £13,000. In March, 1665, £36,000 had been spent upon it. The wind and sea exerted a very destructive influence over this structure, although it was very strongly built, and Colonel Norwood reported in 1668 that a breach had been made in the Mole, which cost a considerable sum to repair. ↩
The seat of the Earl of Chesterfield was Bretby Hall. There is a good view of it by Knyff and Kip. It is no longer standing. —B. ↩
Charles Pepys was second son of Thomas Pepys, elder brother of Samuel’s father. Samuel paid part of the legacy to Charles and his elder brother Thomas on May 25th, 1664. ↩
Mr. Ackworth held some office in Deptford Yard. —B. ↩
The Elias was a fourth-rate of thirty-six guns. It was a Dutch prize. ↩
Citizen and grocer of London; most severely handled by Pope. Two statues were erected to his memory—one in the College of Physicians, and the other in the Grocers’ Hall. They were erected and one removed (that in the College of Physicians) before Pope stigmatized “sage Cutler.” Pope says that Sir John Cutler had an only daughter; in fact, he had two: one married to Lord Radnor; the other, mentioned afterwards by Pepys, the wife of Sir William Portman. —B. ↩
In earlier days Pepys noted for us each few pounds or shillings of graft which he annexed at each transaction in his office. ↩
On the 20th of August, the Duc de Créqui, then French ambassador at Rome, was insulted by the Corsican armed police, a force whose ignoble duty it was to assist the Sbirri; and the pope, Alexander VII, at first refused reparation for the affront offered to the French. Louis, as in the case of D’Estrades, took prompt measures. He ordered the papal nuncio forthwith to quit France; he seized upon Avignon, and his army prepared to enter Italy. Alexander found it necessary to submit. In fulfilment of a treaty signed at Pisa in 1664, Cardinal Chigi, the pope’s nephew, came to Paris, to tender the pope’s apology to Louis. The guilty individuals were punished; the Corsicans banished forever from the Roman States; and in front of the guardhouse which they had occupied a pyramid was erected, bearing an inscription which embodied the pope’s apology. This pyramid Louis permitted Clement IX to destroy on his accession. —B. ↩
Lorenzo Imperiali, of Genoa. He had been appointed Governor of Rome by Innocent X, and he had acted in that capacity at the time of the tumult. —B. ↩
Colonel Henry Honywood, of Little Archer’s Court River, Kent, who had taken up arms against Charles I. He was the son of Arthur Honywood, of Lincoln’s Inn and Maidstone, and had sepulture at Christ Church, Canterbury (Hasted’s Kent, vol. iv, p. 40). —B. ↩
Françoise Louise de la Baume le Blanc, Duchesse de La Vallière, the beautiful mistress of Louis XIV, did not die till 1710. ↩
Ferrandin, which was sometimes spelt farendon, was a stuff made of silk mixed with some other material, like what is now called poplin. Both mohair and farendon are generally cheap materials; for in the case of Manby v. Scott, decided in the Exchequer Chamber in 1663, and reported in the first volume of Modern Reports, the question being as to the liability of a husband to pay for goods supplied against his consent to his wife, who had separated from him, Mr. Justice Hyde (whose judgment is most amusing) observes, in putting various supposed cases, that “The wife will have a velvet gown and a satin petticoat, and the husband thinks a mohair or farendon for a gown, and watered tabby for a petticoat, is as fashionable, and fitter for her quality.” —B. ↩
1 Samuel 24:5, “And it came to pass afterward, that David’s heart smote him, because he had cut off Saul’s skirt.” ↩
The revels were held in the Inner Temple Hall. The last revel in any of the Inns of Court was held in the Inner Temple in 1733. ↩
William Owtram, D.D., a native of Derbyshire, rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, and minister of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, 1664; Archdeacon of Leicester, 1669; and Prebendary of Westminster, 1670. He was eminent for his piety and charity, and was an excellent preacher. He died August 23rd, 1679, in his fifty-fifth year, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Dean Colet wrote the English rudiments for William Lilly’s famous grammar, which for so long a period was the standard school book at English grammar schools. ↩
The theatre built on the site of the present Drury Lane Theatre for the King’s Company under Thomas Killigrew was opened on May 7th (not, as usually stated, April 8th), 1663, when the company removed from the Theatre in Vere Street, Clare Market. ↩
Joseph Williamson, son of the Rev. Joseph Williamson, vicar of Bridekirk, co. Cumberland, Keeper of the State Paper Office at Whitehall, and in 1663 made Undersecretary of State. In 1664 he became Secretary of State, which appointment he filled for four years. Knighted January 24th, 1671–72. He represented Thetford and Rochester in different parliaments, and in 1678 he succeeded Lord Brouncker as President of the Royal Society. He married the widow of Lord O’Brien (Lady Catherine Stuart, sister and heir to Charles Stuart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox). He died October 3rd, 1701, and left £6,000 to Queen’s College, Oxford, where he was educated, and at Rochester he founded a mathematical school, of which John Colson was first master. Buried in the Duke of Richmond’s vault, in Henry VII’s chapel. Evelyn gives, in his Diary (July 22nd, 1674), a rather unflattering portrait of Williamson, and calls him “absolutely Lord Arlington’s creature and ungrateful enough.” ↩
Mary Pepys, only daughter of Thomas Pepys of London, elder brother of John Pepys, Samuel’s father. The name of her husband is not known, and she is referred to in the Diary as Mary Pepys. Samuel seems to have been satisfied with the husband, who returned eighteen pence which had been paid him too much when the legacy was settled (see December 11th, 1664). She died December, 1667. ↩
James Duport, D.D., Professor of Greek at Cambridge, Dean of Peterborough, 1664, and Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge, 1668. Died in July, 1679, aged seventy-three, and was buried in Peterborough Cathedral. Evelyn, in his Diary (September 15th, 1672), describes him as “no great preacher, but a very worthy and learned man.” ↩
For Josiah we should read Joshua (see Joshua 24:15). ↩
Sir Thomas Willis, Bart., mentioned April 20th, 1660, possessed some property at Ditton, in Cambridgeshire, where he was buried, having died in 1705, in his ninety-first year. In 1679 he had been put out of the Commission of the Peace for that county for concurring with the Fanatic party in opposing the Court.
Winifred Wells, maid of honour to the Queen, who figures in the Grammont Memoirs. The king is supposed to have been father of the child. A similar adventure is told of Mary Kirke (afterwards married to Sir Thomas Vernon), who figures in the Grammont Memoirs as Miss Warmestre. ↩
Frances Theresa, eldest daughter of Dr. Walter Stuart (third son of Walter, Lord Blantyre), known as “la Belle Stuart,” the greatest beauty at Charles’s court. She married Charles Stuart, sixth Duke of Lennox and third Duke of Richmond, as his third wife. She died October 15th, 1702, without issue, having survived her husband thirty years. The story in the text was not true. ↩
Pepys must have had a bad attack of nettle-rash. ↩
Thomas Windsor-Hickman, created Lord Windsor of Bradenham, 1660; Captain-General and Governor of Jamaica, July, 1661, to February, 1663; Earl of Plymouth, 1682. Died November 3rd, 1687. ↩
For a note respecting the Elenchus Motuum of George Bate, M.D., see note 261. ↩
Sir William Wheler, of Westminster, was created a baronet, August 11th, 1660, with remainder to his cousin, Charles Wheler, who succeeded to the honour upon his death. He was then M.P. for Queenborough. —B. ↩
Edward Spragge, knighted for his gallant conduct as a captain in the first sea-fight with the Dutch in 1665, son of Lichfield Spragge, captain of horse and Governor of Roscommon, and Mary, second daughter of Edward Legge, Vice-President of Munster. After rendering many important naval services to his country, he was unfortunately drowned, on August 11th, 1673, whilst passing in a boat to the Royal Charles, from his own ship, which had been disabled in the action with Van Tromp. He was buried in the north aisle of Westminster Abbey, September 23rd, 1673. He left the bulk of his property to Dorothy Dennis and his three children by her who bore his name. (See Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers, p. 182.) ↩
A comedy by Sir Robert Stapylton, acted by the Duke’s Company in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Betterton and his wife both acted in this play. ↩
Dryden’s first play. Evelyn saw it at court, February 5th, 1662–63, the night (as appears from the original prologue) on which it was first acted. Dryden has a copy of verses to the Countess of Castlemaine on her encouraging his first play. —B. ↩
Christopher Terne, M.D., born in Cambridgeshire; M.D. Leyden; Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, 1655; Lecturer on Anatomy at Barber-Surgeons’ Hall, Assistant-Physician to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, and one of the original Fellows of the Royal Society. He lived in Lime Street, and died there December 1st, 1673. ↩
This famous picture, which is still in the possession of the Company, was exhibited at the Tudor Exhibition, 1889. It is supposed to have been planned by Holbein, but finished by another painter. There is no trace of Holbein’s hand in the heads on the left of the king. The picture appears to have been injured at the time of the Great Fire, and Pepys had some thoughts of buying it (see Diary, August 29th, 1668). ↩
The Royal Society. For notes on the Dutch and English yachts, see note 648 and note 784. ↩
This matter appears to have fallen through, as there is no evidence that Sir William Penn was joined with Sir J. Minnes in the office of Comptroller. ↩
Cooper, who taught Pepys arithmetic, and previously had been mate of the Royal Charles, was appointed master of the Reserve, August 7th, 1662, but he does not appear to have got on well with the captain, and in March, 1663, he was turned out of his place (see Diary, March 24th). The captain (Robert Holmes), although a very distinguished officer, was an unpopular man. Andrew Marvell called him the “cursed beginner of the Dutch Wars,” describing him as “first an Irish livery boy, then a highwayman, now Bashaw of the Isle of Wight,” who had “got in bonds and by rapine, £100,000” (Seasonable Argument, 1677). Holmes (born 1622) was knighted March, 1666. He died 1692, and was buried at Yarmouth, Isle of Wight. ↩
Jane, wife of Lord Gerard (see ante, January 1st, 1662–63). The king had previously put a slight upon Lady Gerard, probably at the instigation of Lady Castlemaine, as the two ladies were not friends. On the 4th of January of this same year Lady Gerard had given a supper to the king and queen, when the king withdrew from the party and proceeded to the house of Lady Castlemaine, and remained there throughout the evening (see Steinman’s Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, 1871, p. 47). ↩
Algernon Sidney, one of the Commissioners sent to Sweden and Denmark by Richard Cromwell in 1659. Pepys went to the Sound in the Naseby with Sir Edward Montagu. ↩
These letters are printed in Thurloe’s State Papers, vol. vii. One was from Charles II, and the other from Sir Edward Hyde. —B. ↩
There were three brothers of the name of Rotier, all medallists, who were rivals of the famous Simon—John, Joseph, and Philip. The last-named represented Frances Stuart (subsequently Duchess of Richmond), under the form of Britannia, on the reverse of a large medal with the king’s head (see Diary, February 25th, 1666–67). The Rotiers were Frenchmen, and not Germans. ↩
Although modern numismatists may smile at the preference given by Mr. Slingsby to Rotier’s coins, Pepys’s remark that Oliver’s crowns were then selling at 25s. or 30s. is very curious, for it is to this day considered doubtful whether these beautiful pieces by Simon were current coin or pattern pieces. Snelling, in his Silver Coinage, 1762, calls them “very scarce,” and so they remain, as the prices which they still bring at sales seem to show, varying from £2 10s. to £11, according to condition.
Mr. Joseph Gibbs of the Inner Temple, who kindly furnished the above remarks, has one of the crowns without any flaw, for which he paid £4 18s.; and Mr. Cureton, the coin collector, had six sets of these moneys at the time he was robbed and nearly murdered, in the winter of 1S50. Pepys’s evidence of the high value of the crowns in 1663 strengthens the idea that they were pattern pieces only. There is a tradition that the die became cracked across the neck after a few impressions were struck, which having been considered ominous, the issue was stopped; but the truth of the story must still remain matter of conjecture. —B. ↩
For ingenious. The distinction of the two words ingenious and ingenuous by which the former indicates mental, and the second moral qualities, was not made in Pepys’s day. ↩
The old Admiralty Court was formerly held on St. Margaret’s Hill, in part of the old church of St. Margaret, and was removed to Doctors’ Commons about 1675. ↩
Dr. Thomas Exton, Dean of the Arches and Judge of the Admiralty Court. —B. ↩
Sir Giles Strangways, M.P. for Dorsetshire, or John Strangways, M.P. for Bridport. ↩
Probably Sir Richard Lloyd, M.P. for Radnorshire. —B. ↩
A fool, or heavy stupid fellow. “What makes you stare so, bufflehead!”—Plantus’s Comedies Made English, 1694. “Buffle-headed” was also used to signify stupid. ↩
There is a token of “the coffeehouse at the west end of St. Paul’s London,” which is probably the house referred to by Pepys (see Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 736). ↩
Great dissatisfaction was felt by the Presbyterians in Ireland with the action of the English Commissioners appointed to hear causes in connection with the Act of Settlement. ↩
Sir Robert Long, who came of an ancient family in Wiltshire, had been secretary to Charles II during his exile, and was subsequently made Auditor of the Exchequer and a Privy Councillor, and created a baronet in 1662, with remainder to his nephew James. He died unmarried in 1673. —B. ↩
Colonel Williams—“Cromwell that was”—appears to have been Henry Cromwell, grandson of Sir Oliver Cromwell, and first cousin, once removed, to the Protector. He was seated at Bodsey House, in the parish of Ramsey, which had been his father’s residence, and held the commission of a colonel. He served in several Parliaments for Huntingdonshire, voting, in 1660, for the restoration of the monarchy; and as he knew the name of Cromwell would not be grateful to the Court, he disused it, and assumed that of Williams, which had belonged to his ancestors; and he is so styled in a list of knights of the proposed Order of the Royal Oak. He died at Huntingdon, 3rd August, 1673. (Abridged from Noble’s Memoirs of the Cromwells, vol. i, p. 70.) —B. ↩
Lord Rutherford was created Earl of Teviot in 1663, and Pepys refers to him sometimes as Lord Rutherford and sometimes as Lord Tiviot. See note 1630. ↩
The thermometer was invented in the sixteenth century, but it is disputed who the inventor was. The claims of Santorio are supported by Borelli and Malpighi, while the title of Cornelius Drebbel is considered undoubted by Boerhaave. Galileo’s air thermometer, made before 1597, was the foundation of accurate thermometry. Galileo also invented the alcohol thermometer about 1611 or 1612. Spirit thermometers were made for the Accademia del Cimento, and described in the Memoirs of that academy. When the academy was dissolved by order of the Pope, some of these thermometers were packed away in a box, and were not discovered until early in the nineteenth century. Robert Hooke describes the manufacture and graduation of thermometers in his Micrographia (1665). ↩
The company drove round and round the Ring in Hyde Park. The following two extracts illustrate this, and the second one shows how the circuit was called the Tour:
“Here (1697) the people of fashion take the diversion of the Ring. In a pretty high place, which lies very open, they have surrounded a circumference of two or three hundred paces diameter with a sorry kind of balustrade, or rather with postes placed upon stakes but three feet from the ground; and the coaches drive round this. When they have turned for some time round one way they face about and turn t’other: so rowls the world!”
Wilson’s Memoirs, 1719, p. 126
“It is in this Park where the Grand Tour or Ring is kept for the Ladies to take the air in their coaches, and in fine weather I have seen above three hundred at a time.”
Macky’s Journey Through England, 1724, vol. i, p. 75
Benjamin Laney, S.T.P., chaplain in ordinary to Charles I; made Bishop of Peterborough, 1660; translated to Lincoln, 1662–63; and to Ely, 1667. Died January 24th, 1674–75. ↩
Edward Rainbow, S.T.P., chaplain to the king, Master of Magdalene College, 1642 to 1650, when he was ejected. Restored 1660, remained till 1664, Dean of Peterborough, Jan. 1660–61 to 1664, when he became Bishop of Carlisle. Died March 26th, 1684. ↩
There is a token of William Smith at the Royal Oak “in Lumber Street,” 1666. —Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 660 ↩
Alexander Brome, an attorney in the Lord Mayor’s Court, born 1620, author of many songs and epigrams in ridicule of the Rump. He was also author of a comedy entitled The Cunning Lovers, and of a translation of portions of Horace. His Songs and Poems were collected, 1661 (second edition, 1664; third edition, 1668). He died June 30th, 1666, and his death is recorded in the Diary on July 3rd. He edited Richard Brome’s plays, but he was apparently no relation of that dramatist. Edward Phillips, in his Theatrum Poetarum, styles him “the English Anacreon.” ↩
Haut Brion, a claret; one of the first growths of the red wines of Médoc. ↩
Afterwards Sir William Walker and Sir Robert Wiseman. —B. ↩
Jonas Shish (born 1605) succeeded Christopher Pett as master shipwright at Deptford in 1668, and died May, 1680. Evelyn held Shish in high esteem, and was one of the pallbearers at his funeral. Evelyn described him as “one who can give very little account of his art by discourse, and is hardly capable of reading, yet of great ability in his calling. The family have been ship carpenters in this yard above 100 yeares.” (March 3rd, 1667–68). ↩
Selden’s work was highly esteemed, and Charles I made an order in council that a copy should be kept in the Council chest, another in the Court of Exchequer, and a third in the Court of Admiralty. The book Pepys refers to is Nedham’s translation, which was entitled, Of the Dominion or Ownership of the Sea. Two Books … , written at first in Latin and entituled Mare Clausum, by John Selden. Translated into English by Marchamont Nedham. London, 1652. This has the Commonwealth arms on the title-page and a dedication “To the Supreme Autoritie of the Nation—The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England.” The dedication to Charles I in Selden’s original work was left out. Apparently a new title-page and dedication was prepared in 1663, but the copy in the British Museum, which formerly belonged to Charles Killigrew, does not contain these additions. ↩
The Duke of Monmouth’s “lodgings near Charing Cross” were probably in Hedge Lane, now Dorset Street. “Monmouth Court” preserves the memory of his residence. The king gave his son apartments in Whitehall, and Mr. Marshall, in his work on Tennis (pp. 87, 88), quotes from Harl. MS. 1618, fol. 224, a reference to “Charges in doing divers workes in making lodgings in the old Tennis Court at Whitehall for ye Duke of Monmouth,” June, 1664. ↩
The arms granted to the Duke of Monmouth, April 8th, 1665, were Quarterly, i and iv; Ermine, on a pile gu. three lions passant gardant or; ii and iii, or, an inescutcheon of France, within a double tressure flory counter flory, gu. On the 22nd of April, 1667, another grant was made to the duke of the arms of Charles II, with a baton sinister arg.; over all, an inescutcheon of Scott. The present Duke of Buccleuch bears these arms quarterly. —B. ↩
A salt eel is a rope’s end cut from the piece to be used on the back of a culprit. “Yeow shall have salt eel for supper” is an emphatic threat. ↩
Pembleton, the dancing-master, made Pepys very jealous, and there are many allusions to him in the following pages. His lessons ceased on May 27th. ↩
George Stradling, eighth son of Sir John Stradling, Bart., prebendary of St. Paul’s, 1660; rector of Fulham, January 11th, 1660–61; D.D., 1661; rector of Hanwell and Brentford, February 25th, 1661–62; prebendary of Westminster, 1663; vicar of St. Bride’s, London, April 23rd, 1672; dean of Chichester, December 21st, 1672. He died April 18th, 1688, and was buried in Westminster Abbey (see Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers, pp. 220–221). ↩
“Evangelium Armatum. A Specimen, or Short Collection of several Doctrines and Positions destructive to our Government, both Civil and Ecclesiastical, preached and vented by the known leaders and abettors of the pretended Reformation, such as Mr. Calamy, Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Case, Mr. Baxter, Mr. Caryll, Mr. Marshall and others.” London: Printed for William Garret, 1663, 4to. —B. ↩
Colonel Fitzgerald, Deputy-Governor of Tangier. Pepys speaks of him in disparaging terms on October 20th, 1664, although in 1668 (August 7th) he was pleased both with the colonel and with his discourse. ↩
William Stankes, bailiff of Robert Pepys’s land, who died September, 1668. ↩
The Tower menagerie, with its famous lions, which was one of the chief sights of London, and gave rise to a new English word, was not abolished until the early part of the present century. ↩
There is a halfpenny token of Mr. Game with this inscription: “John Game at the Coach and Horses in Aldgate” (Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 520). ↩
John Dawes, son of Sir Thomas Dawes of Putney. The marriage licence of John Dawes of St. Olave, Hart Street, bachelor, aged thirty, and Christian Hawkins, spinster, aged sixteen, is dated April 21st, 1663. It is stated that the bride’s parents were dead, but that she was living with her aunt, the wife of Rickard of St. Olave, merchant, who gave her consent (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 386). ↩
Sir Andrew Rickard, an East India merchant, chairman of the East India and Turkey Companies, alderman and sheriff of London; knighted July 10th, 1662. He died very wealthy on September 5th, 1672, aged sixty-eight years, leaving one only daughter, married to John, Lord Berkeley of Stratton. The funeral took place at St. Olave’s, Hart Street, September 17th, where a monument was erected to his memory (Smith’s Obituary, p. 96). ↩
Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick, Lord High Admiral for the Parliament, 1643–45, 1648–49. He died April 18th, 1658. ↩
This was the first Drury Lane Theatre. It is generally stated, on the authority of Downes’s Roscius Anglicanus, that Killigrew’s company opened this theatre on April 8th, but this passage proves that opening did not occur until a month later. The theatre was burned in 1672, and at once rebuilt. It was reopened March 26th, 1674. ↩
Somerset House was greatly improved at this time for the use of Queen Henrietta Maria. Cowley and Waller both wrote verses on “the Queen’s repairing Somerset House,” and Cowley makes the building say
“And now I dare Ev’n with the proudest palaces compare.”
Archbishop Ussher’s Body of Divinity, or Summe and Substance of the Christian Religion Catechistically Propounded, was first published in 1645, and several editions have since been issued. ↩
Respecting this passage Dr. Hueffer wrote, in his article “Mr. Pepys the Musician” (Italian and Other Studies, 1883, p. 266), “Here at a very primitive period of dramatic music in England we find foreshadowed the idea carried out at the Wagner Theatre at Bayreuth, the idea of the invisible orchestra. … Mr. Pepys’s censure, it should be remembered, applies to a time when ‘musique,’ both orchestral and choral, was executed on a small scale; had he known the gigantic bands of modern days, perhaps he would have judged differently.” ↩
Walter Clun, famous in the character of Iago, acted the part of the Lieutenant at the opening of Drury Lane Theatre, that is, if Downes is to be relied upon, but as he makes the mistake of fixing that occasion on April 8th, he may not be right as to this. ↩
The value of the piece of eight was fixed at 4s. 9d. ↩
As long as the game of Pall Mall was played in St. James’s Park the enclosed Mall was kept with great care:
“Here a well-polish’d Mall gives us the joy To see our Prince his matchless force employ.”
Waller, a Poem On St. James’s Park as lately improved by His Majesty, 1661
Robert, Lord Bruce, succeeded as second Earl of Elgin, December 21st, 1663, and was created Baron Bruce of Skelton, Viscount Bruce of Ampthill, and Earl of Ailesbury, March 18th, 1665. He was a Privy Councillor and Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Charles II. He died October 20th, 1685, soon after his appointment as Lord Chamberlain to James II. ↩
Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton, succeeded his father, who had been created a baron by James I in 1645, and died, January 10th, 1683, leaving a son, the Hon. Ralph Montagu, afterwards Duke of Montagu. ↩
William Montagu was Attorney-General to the Queen, having been appointed to that office in June, 1662. He was appointed Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer in 1676, but discharged from the office by James II in 1686 as not sufficiently subservient. He died, 1707, aged eighty-nine years. ↩
Montagu Bertie, who succeeded as second Earl of Lindsey in 1642. His mother was Elizabeth, daughter of Edward Montagu, first Lord Montagu of Boughton. ↩
Charles and Thomas Porter. The latter was engaged in a fatal duel with Sir H. Bellasis; see July 29th, August 8th and 12th, 1667. ↩
An allusion to Aretin’s infamous letters and sonnets accompanying the as infamous Postures engraved by Marc Antonio from the designs of Julio Romano (Steinman’s Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, privately printed, 1871). ↩
Thomas Ross, Monmouth’s tutor, put the idea into his head that Charles II had married his mother. The report was sedulously spread abroad, and obtained some kind of credence, until, in June, 1678, the king set the matter at rest by publishing a declaration, which was entered in the Council book and registered in Chancery. The words of the declaration are: “That to avoid any dispute which might happen in time to come concerning the succession of the Crown, he (Charles) did declare, in the presence of Almighty God, that he never gave, nor made any contract of marriage, nor was married to Mrs. Barlow, alias Waters, the Duke of Monmouth’s mother, nor to any other woman whatsoever, but to his present wife, Queen Catherine, then living.” ↩
The conspiracy of Sir Charles Berkeley, Lord Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and Killigrew to traduce Anne Hyde was peculiarly disgraceful, and the conduct of all the actors in the affair of the marriage, from Lord Clarendon downwards, was far from creditable (see Lister’s Life of Clarendon, ii 68–79) ↩
The word chouse appears to have been introduced into the language at the beginning of the seventeenth century. In 1609, a Chiaus sent by Sir Robert Shirley, from Constantinople to London, had chiaused (or choused) the Turkish and Persian merchants out of £4,000, before the arrival of his employer, and had decamped. The affair was quite recent in 1610, when Jonson’s Alchemist appeared, in which it is alluded to:
D.
What do you think of me? That I am a Chiaus?
Face
What’s that?
D.
The Turk was here. As one would say, do you think I am a Turk.
James Ley, third Earl of Marlborough, admiral in the East Indies, and commissioner to receive Bombay from the Portuguese. He was killed in the great sea-fight with the Dutch, June 3rd, 1665. ↩
These letters about the Brampton estate are preserved in the Bodleian Library (Rawlinson MSS. A. 191). ↩
The king said to la belle Stuart, who resisted all his importunities, that he hoped he should live to see her “ugly and willing” (Lord Dartmouth’s note to Burnet’s Own Time, vol. i, p. 436, ed. 1823). ↩
Henry Slingsby was Deputy Master of the Mint, but according to Ruding, the Controller during the reign of Charles II was James Hoare. Ruding does not mention anyone of the name of Howard as holding that office. ↩
Professor W. C. Roberts-Austen, C.B., F.R.S., chemist to the Royal Mint, refers to Pepys’s Diary and to Blondeau’s machine in his Cantor Lectures on Alloys Used for Coinage, printed in the Journal of the Society of Arts (vol. xxxii). He writes, “The hammer was still retained for coining in the Mint in the Tower of London, but the question of the adoption of the screw-press by the Moneyers appears to have been revived in 1649, when the Council of State had it represented to them that the coins of the Government might be more perfectly and beautifully done, and made equal to any coins in Europe. It was proposed to send to France for Peter Blondeau, who had invented and improved a machine and method for making all coins ‘with the most beautiful polish and equality on the edge, or with any proper inscription or graining.’ He came on the 3rd of September, and although a Committee of the Mint reported in favour of his method of coining, the Company of Moneyers, who appear to have boasted of the success of their predecessors in opposing the introduction of the mill and screw-press in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, prevented the introduction of the machinery, and consequently he did not produce pattern pieces until 1653. … It is certain that Blondeau did not invent, but only improved the method of coining by the screw-press, and I believe his improvements related chiefly to a method for ‘rounding the pieces before they are sized, and in making the edges of the moneys with letters and graining,’ which he undertook to reveal to the king. Special stress is laid on the engines wherewith the rims were marked, ‘which might be kept secret among few men.’ I cannot find that there is any record in the Paris mint of Blondeau’s employment there, and the only reference to his invention in the Mint records of this country refers to the ‘collars,’ or perforated discs of metal surrounding the ‘blank’ while it was struck into a coin. There is, however, in the British Museum a MS. believed to be in Blondeau’s hand, in which he claims his process, ‘as a new invention, to make a handsome coin, than can be found in all the world besides, viz., that shall not only be stamped on both flat sides, but shall even be marked with letters on the thickness of the brim.’ The letters were raised. The press Blondeau used was, I believe, the ordinary screw-press, and I suppose that the presses drawn in Akerman’s well-known plate of the coining-room of the Mint in the Tower, published in 1803 [Microcosm of London, vol. ii, p. 202], if not actually the same machines, were similar to those erected in 1661–62 by Sir William Parkhurst and Sir Anthony St. Leger, wardens of the Mint, at a cost of £1,400, Professor Roberts-Austen shows that Benvenuto Cellini used a similar press to that attributed to Blondeau, and he gives an illustration of this in his lecture (p. 810). In a letter to the editor the professor writes: “Pepys’s account of the operations of coining, and especially of assaying gold and silver, is very interesting and singularly accurate considering that he could not have had technical knowledge of the subject.” ↩
The Commonwealth coins (stamped with the cross and harp, and the inscription, “The Commonwealth of England”) were called in by proclamation, September, 1660, and when brought to the Mint an equal amount of lawful money was allowed for them, weight for weight, deducting only for the coinage (Ruding’s Annals of the Coinage, 18 19, vol. iii, p. 293). The harp was taken out of the naval flags in May, 1660. ↩
In the minutes of the Royal Society is the following entry: “June 11, 1662. Dr. Pett’s brother showed a draught of the pleasure boat which he intended to make for the king” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 85). Peter Pett had already built a yacht for the king at Deptford. ↩
This book was Playford’s Music’s Recreation on the Lyra Viol, Containing 100 Ayres, Corants and Sarabands for the Lone Lyra Viol, with Instructions for Beginners, printed 1656. This title is given in a catalogue of Playford’s publications at the end of the third book of Henry Lawes’s Select Ayres and Dialogues, 1669. Several editions, or reissues of this edition with changed title-pages and dates, were issued by Playford. (From information kindly supplied to the editor by Mr. J. E. Matthew.) ↩
The Royal African or Guinea Company of Merchants was founded 14 Car. II (1662). The limits of jurisdiction are defined in the charter as from Salee in South Barbary to the Cape of Good Hope. A new charter was granted in 1672, but in 1697 free trade to Africa was granted by parliament, and the company fell into decay. It was revived by a new act in the reign of Queen Anne (1708–9). An act for extending and improving the trade in Africa was passed 23 Geo. II (1754); but in 1821 the charter of incorporation of the society was recalled by parliament (1 and 2 Geo. IV, c. 28). In Strype’s Stow (book v) there is an account of the company, where the arms are described. The African House was in Leadenhall Street. ↩
Robert Montagu, Viscount Mandeville. He was appointed Envoy Extraordinary to Paris on this special mission in May, 1663. He succeeded his father as third Earl of Manchester in 1671, and died March 14th, 1683. ↩
These “fancies” appear to have been light airs, but their character has not been accurately defined. Falstaff, when speaking of Justice Shallow, says: “ ’a came ever in the rearward of the fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutched huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies or his good nights” (2 Henry IV, act iii, sc. 2). There is an interesting anecdote connected with these fancies in North’s Memories of Music (ed. Rimbault, 1846, p. 103): “King Charles the Second was a professed lover of music, but of this kind onely [light French style], and had an utter detestation of Fancies, and the less for a successless entertainment of that kind given him by Secretary Williamson, after which the Secretary had no peace, for the King (as his way was) could not forbear whetting his wits upon the subject of the fancy music, and its patron the Secretary.” Dr. Hueffer, in his “Mr. Pepys the Musician,” refers to Fancies, and is inclined to connect them with the Fantasia (Italian and Other Studies, 1883, p. 256). ↩
This word is here used as an optical term, and signifies the image painted on the retina of the eye, and the rays of light reflected from the several points of the surface of objects. —B. ↩
16 Car. II, cap. 4, “An Act to prevent and suppress seditious Conventicles.” It was enacted that anyone of the age of sixteen or upwards present at an unlawful assembly or conventicle was to incur fine or imprisonment. A conventicle was defined as an assembly of more than five persons besides the members of a family met together for holding worship not according to the rites of the Church of England. The act was amended 22 Car. II, cap. 1 (1670), and practically repealed by the Toleration Act of 1689, but the act 22 Car. II, cap. 1, was specially repealed 52 Geo. III, cap. 155, s. 1. ↩
Sir Balthazar Gerbier, born at Antwerp, 1592. He published many works connected with architecture, and was as much a painter as an architect. In 1649 ne opened an academy at Bethnal Green, in which he professed to teach, in addition to the more common branches of education, “astronomy, navigation, architecture, perspective, drawing, limning, engraving, fortification, fireworks, military discipline, the art of well speaking and civil discipline,” etc. etc. He also started in Whitefriars an academy for foreign languages. His “Counsel and Advise to all Builders” has forty-one separate dedicatory epistles to the Queen-mother, the Duke of York, Prince Rupert, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Clarendon, and a long list of the nobility and gentry, ending with the courteous reader. Gerbier died 1667. ↩
A comedy, by Sir Robert Stapylton, which was acted with applause, although Dryden made some unflattering criticisms on its construction. There does not appear to be any record of Mrs. Gosnell as an actress outside the Diary. According to Genest, Mrs. Betterton took the character of Pyramena on May 28th, the day before that mentioned in the text. ↩
Mary Moders, alias Stedman, a notorious impostor, who pretended to be a German princess. Her arrival as the German princess “at the Exchange Tavern, right against the Stocks betwixt the Poultry and Cornhill, at 5 in the morning. … , with her marriage to Carleton the taverner’s wife’s brother,” are incidents fully narrated in Francis Kirkman’s Counterfeit Lady Unveiled, 1673 (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 703). Her adventures formed the plot of a tragicomedy by T. P., entitled A Witty Combat, or the Female Victor, 1663, which was acted with great applause by persons of quality in Whitsun week. Mary Carleton was tried at the Old Bailey for bigamy and acquitted, after which she appeared on the stage in her own character as the heroine of a play entitled The German Princess. Pepys went to the Duke’s House to see her on April 15th, 1664. The rest of her life was one continued course of robbery and fraud, and in 1678 she was executed at Tyburn for stealing a piece of plate in Chancery Lane. ↩
The maypole in the Strand stood on the site of the church of St. Mary-le-Strand, and was a well-known object in 1634, when Captain Bailey set up there a stand for his hackney coaches. It was taken down by the Puritans, and re-erected in the first year after Charles II’s restoration. In William Stow’s Remarks on London, 1722, it is said that Clarges the farrier set it up in honour of his daughter having arrived at the dignitv of Duchess of Albemarle, but the statement does not appear to have any authority. The maypole was of great height, but it was gradually reduced by storms of wind, and in 1717, when it was removed to Wanstead, there were only twenty feet of the pole remaining.
“Amid that area wide they took their stand, Where the tall maypole once o’erlooked the Strand, And now (so Anne and piety ordain) A church collects the saints of Drury Lane.”
Pope’s Dunciad, book ii
St. Mary’s was the first finished of the fifty new churches to be built by Queen Anne’s act of parliament.
“What’s not destroyed by Time’s devouring Hand? Where’s Troy, and where’s the Maypole in the Strand?”
The theatre which the King’s Company under Killigrew had left for the new Drury Lane Theatre was in Vere Street, Clare Market, and had previously been occupied as Gibbons’s Tennis Court. ↩
This was known as “Blood’s Plot,” and was named after Colonel Thomas Blood, afterwards notorious for his desperate attack upon the Duke of Ormond in St. James’s Street (1670) and for his robbery of the crown jewels in the Tower (1671). He died August 24th, 1680. ↩
M.P. for Weobly, and one of the proposed Knights of the Royal Oak for Herefordshire. —B. ↩
Mr. Beauchamp, the goldsmith of Cheapside, is mentioned on November 14th and 19th, 1660. ↩
William Juxon, born at Chichester, 1582; educated at Merchant Taylors’ School and at St. John’s College, Oxford; Bishop-elect of Hereford, 1633, and promoted to London in the same year; Lord High Treasurer, 1635; attended Charles I on the scaffold, and at the Restoration was made Archbishop of Canterbury. Died June 4th, 1663. ↩
Archbishop Juxon was succeeded by Dr. Gilbert Sheldon, Bishop of London. ↩
Lady Jemima Montagu, daughter to the Earl of Sandwich. This match did not come off; she married Philip Carteret. ↩
It is not easy to say what Concordance this was. It may have been the one by Robert Wickens, published at Oxford in 1655. ↩
This may be the History of the Commons War of England from 1640 to 1662, published London, 1662. ↩
Robert Bretton, D.D., vicar of St. Nicholas, Deptford. He was also rector of St. Martin’s, Ludgate, and prebendary of Cadington Minor in the diocese of London. He died February 18th, 1671–2. John Evelyn highly esteemed him, and grieved at his death. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter and co-heiress of John Walpole of Broomsthorpe, Norfolk, married Edward Pepys of Broomsthorpe, who died December 22nd, 1663. Samuel says she was the only handsome woman “of our name.” ↩
Sir John Hebden had been knighted by Charles II at Whitehall on May 30th of this same year. He had made a fortune in Russia by trade. ↩
Hebden had been Resident to the States General of the United Provinces in 1660. ↩
Martha Batten, aged twenty-six, was married to William Castell, of Redereth Wall, co. Surrey, shipwright, widower, aged thirty-four. The marriage licence is dated July 2nd, 1663 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 254). ↩
Newman’s “Cambridge Concordance” was frequently reprinted, and held its own until it and all other concordances of the Bible were superseded by Cruden’s work. ↩
See note 828. Moore’s Arithmetic was first published in 1650. ↩
John Lacy in the part of Thumpe in Shirley’s The Changes, or Love in a Maze (see note 1425). ↩
It is necessary to note that this was according to the old style. ↩
A comedy by Sir Robert Howard, written in ridicule of the Puritans. ↩
Thomas Bellasyse, Viscount Fauconberg, married, 1st, Mildred Sanderson, daughter of Nicholas, Viscount Castleton, and, 2nd, Mary Cromwell, third daughter of the Protector. He was appointed one of the Council of State, 1657, and Envoy to France, 1658. Created Earl of Fauconberg, 1689, and died December 31st, 1700. Lady Fauconberg died in 1712. ↩
Masks were commonly used by ladies in the reign of Elizabeth, and when their use was revived at the Restoration for respectable women attending the theatre, they became general. They soon, however, became the mark of loose women, and their use was discontinued by women of repute. On June 1st, 1704, a song was sung at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields called “The Misses’ Lamentation for want of their Vizard Masques at the Theatre.” Mr. R. W. Lowe gives several references to the use of vizard masks at the theatre in his interesting biography, Thomas Betterton. ↩
A dramatic pastoral by John Fletcher, first acted in 1610. ↩
Pepys continued through life an admirer of Chaucer, and we have the authority of Dryden himself for saying that we owe his character of the Good Parson to Pepys’s recommendation. ↩
“In 1664, there being a general report all over the kingdom of Mr. Monpesson his house being haunted, which hee himself affirming to the King and Queen to be true, the King sent the Lord Falmouth, and the Queen sent mee, to examine the truth of; but wee could neither see nor heare anything that was extraordinary; and about a year after, his Majesty told me that hee had discovered the cheat, and that Mr. Monpesson, upon his Majesty sending for him, confessed it to him. And yet Mr. Monpesson, in a printed letter, had afterwards the confidence to deny that hee had ever made any such confession.”
Letters of the Second Earl of Chesterfield, p. 24, 1829, 8vo.
Joseph Glanville published a relation of the famous disturbance at the house of Mr. Monpesson, at Tedworth, Wilts, occasioned by the beating of an invisible drum every night for a year. This story, which was believed at the time, furnished the plot for Addison’s play of The Drummer, or the Haunted House. In the Mercurius Publicus, April 16–23, 1663, there is a curious examination on this subject, by which it appears that one William Drury, of Uscut, Wilts, was the invisible drummer. —B. ↩
Sir Francis Clerke was M.P. for Rochester in the Parliament of 1661. ↩
Sir Richard Temple, of Stowe, Bart., M.P. for Buckingham, and K.B. Died 1694. —B. ↩
In the same spirit, long after this, some question arising as to the best material to be used in building Westminster Bridge, Lord Chesterfield remarked, that there were too many wooden piers (peers) at Westminster already. —B. ↩
Captain Allen, afterwards Sir Thomas Allen; Captain Smith, afterwards Sir Jeremy Smith; Captain Beach, afterwards Sir Richard Beach, captain of the Crown in 1661. Up to 1672, when he became a rear-admiral, he had commanded the York, the Leopard, the Fairfax, the Greenwich, and the Hampshire. In 1679 he was appointed Commissioner-resident at Portsmouth, and held the office till 1693, when he was moved to be Comptroller of Stores (Duckett’s Naval Commissioners, 1889, p. 61). ↩
Captain Holmes, afterwards Sir Robert Holmes. Captain Batts was described by the Duke of York as “a very stout man” (see January 2nd, 1667–68). ↩
Paternoster Row, now famous as the headquarters of the publishing houses, was at this time chiefly inhabited by mercers. “This street, before the Fire of London, was taken up by eminent Mercers, Silkmen and Lacemen; and their shops were so resorted to by the nobility and gentry in their coaches, that oft times the street was so stop’d up that there was no passage for foot passengers” (Strype’s Stow, book iii, p. 195) ↩
Sir William Rider’s house was known as Kirby Castle, and was supposed to have been built in 1570 by John Thorpe for John Kirby. It was associated in rhyme with other follies of the time in bricks and mortar, as recorded by Stow:
“Kirkebyes Castell, and Fisher’s Follie, Spinila’s pleasure, and Megse’s glorie.”
The place was known in Strype’s time as the “Blind Beggar’s House,” but he knew nothing of the ballad, “The Beggar’s Daughter of Bednall Green,” for he remarks, “perhaps Kirby beggared himself by it.” Sir William Rider died at this house in 1669. ↩
He was natural son of Philip IV, King of Spain, who, after his father’s death in 1665, exerted his whole influence to overthrow the Regency appointed during the young king’s minority. —B. ↩
Probably the wine-house in Cannon Row, Westminster. ↩
George Digby, second Earl of Bristol, born 1612, succeeded his father in 1653; died March 20th, 1677–8. He was Lord Clarendon’s greatest enemy. ↩
Robert, fourth Lord Spencer, and second Earl of Sunderland, did actually marry Lady Anne Digby, second daughter, and eventually heir of Lord Bristol, shortly after this date. He was ambassador to Spain, 1671–72; ambassador to Paris, 1672–73, 1678; Secretary of State, 1679–81, 1683, 1685–88; Lord President of the Council, 1685–88; K.G., 1687. Died September 28th, 1702. ↩
A letter from the Comte de Comminges, French ambassador at Whitehall, to M. de Lionne, dated “Juillet 2–12, 1663,” contains another account of this rumour:
“Je vous avois mandé que le Comte de Sunderland épousoit la fille du Comte de Bristol. Il se retira le soir qu’on devoit l’épouser, et donna ordre à un de ses amis de rompre le mariage. Le procédé surprit toute la cour, et le Roi même s’en est moqué, et l’a blamé au dernier point.”
Sir Charles Sedley, Bart., well known for his wit and profligacy, and author of several plays. He is said to have been fined £500 for this outrage. He was father to James II’s mistress, created Countess of Dorchester, and died 1701. —B. ↩
Sir Robert Foster, Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, had been a steady Royalist during the period of the Commonwealth, and he was rewarded with this high office almost immediately after the Restoration. He died October 4th, 1663. ↩
The details in the original are very gross. Dr. Johnson relates the story in the Lives of the Poets, in his life of Sackville, Lord Dorset: “Sackville, who was then Lord Buckhurst, with Sir Charles Sedley and Sir Thomas Ogle, got drunk at the Cock, in Bow Street, by Covent Garden, and going into the balcony exposed themselves to the populace in very indecent postures. At last, as they grew warmer, Sedley stood forth naked, and harangued the populace in such profane language, that the public indignation was awakened; the crowd attempted to force the door, and being repulsed, drove in the performers with stones, and broke the windows of the house. For this misdemeanour they were indicted, and Sedley was fined five hundred pounds; what was the sentence of the others is not known. Sedley employed [Henry] Killigrew and another to procure a remission from the King, but (mark the friendship of the dissolute!) they begged the fine for themselves, and exacted it to the last groat.” The woman known as Oxford Kate appears to have kept the notorious Cock Tavern in Bow Street at this date. ↩
Amongst others Armand Frederick de Schomberg obtained this dignity. He was general of the English forces in Portugal, and created Duke of Schomberg in 1689. ↩
Mr. J. Biddulph Martin’s valuable work, The Grasshopper in Lombard Street, 1892, contains much information about Edward Backwell. “Backwell carried on business at the Unicorn in Lombard Street, adjoining the Grasshopper; but there is some obscurity on this point. Backwell seems to have occupied both these premises, and the Grasshopper is stated to have been formerly in the tenure or occupation of Edward Backwell, Esq., afterwards of Charles Duncombe, Esq.” (p. 31). Mr. Martin supposes that by “the other two” are meant “Pope’s Head Alley to the west, and the alley opposite Abchurch Lane to the east” (p. 185). The London Gazette of June 1st, 1682, contains the following notice: “The creditors of Edward Backwell, Esq., are desired to take notice that the said Edward Backwell hath published his proposals, and that they will be delivered to them or any they shall please send for them by Mr. Richard Snagg, or by some other person, at Mr. Valentine Duncombe’s shop, where the said Edward Backwell formerly dwelt in Lombard Street” (p. 191). See ante, note 552, and post, April 12th, 1669. ↩
Sir Allen Apsley (1616–83), eldest son of Sir Allen Apsley, Lieutenant of the Tower. He was a zealous Royalist, and commanded the garrison at Barnstaple in 1645. After the Restoration he was made falconer to the king and almoner to the Duke of York, in whose regiment he bore a commission. He was M.P. for Thetford, 1661–78. He died at his house on the west side of St. James’s Square, October 15th, 1683, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Evora, a city of Portugal, capital of the province of Alemtejo. According to the census of 1878 it had at that date a population of 13,046. ↩
Mrs. Lemon was a daughter of Sir William Batten. ↩
Brother to the Duke of Richmond and Lennox, and almoner to the king. —B. ↩
Kenrick Edisbury, Surveyor of the Navy, who died in 1638 (see ante, April 8th, 1661). ↩
Rebecca Allen, daughter of John Allen of Chatham, spinster, aged about eighteen, was married to Henry Jowles of Chatham (aged about twenty-four) in August, 1662 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 779). ↩
James Stuart, Duke of Cambridge, second son of James, Duke of York, born July 12th, 1663; created duke, August 23rd, 1664; K.G., December 3rd, 1666. Died June 20th, 1667. ↩
There were several well-known musicians of this name. ↩
Love à la Mode was published in 1663. The preface is signed T. S., which initials are supposed to represent T. Southland. ↩
Pepys may here refer either to Essay XLI (of Fortune) or to a chapter in the Advancement of Learning. The sentence, “Faber quisque fortunæ propria,” said to be by Appius Claudian, is quoted more than once in the De Augmentis Scientiarum, lib. viii, cap. 2. ↩
Barbara, second wife of James Howard, Earl of Suffolk, eldest daughter of Sir Edward Villiers, sister of William, Viscount Grandison, and widow of the Hon. Charles Wenman. She died December, 1681, leaving one daughter, Elizabeth, who married Sir Thomas Felton, Bart. There is a portrait of her at Audley Court. ↩
Wallingford House stood on the site of the present Admiralty: it was so called after Sir William Knollys, Treasurer of the Household to Queen Elizabeth and King James, Viscount Wallingford and Earl of Banbury. The first Duke of Buckingham of the Villiers family purchased the house from Lord Wallingford in 1621–22. When he was Lord High Admiral he established here the office of the Admiralty. During the Protectorate the office for granting passes to persons going abroad was kept here. ↩
There has been some doubt as to the Christian name of this actor, but Mr. R. W. Lowe proves conclusively that it was Henry, and not Joseph (Thomas Betterton, p. 72). “Henry Harris, of the city of London, painter,” was one of the contracting parties in the agreement for Davenant’s Company of November 5th, 1660. He left the company, and expected to be eagerly sought after by Killigrew, but the king prevented his attaching, himself to the other house, and he had in the end to rejoin Davenant’s, company. He acted Romeo when Betterton took Mercutio. This, as Mr. Lowe remarks, seems strange, considering that Pepys says Harris was “a more ayery man” than Betterton. One would expect the “airy” man to take the character of Mercutio. Mr. Lowe supposes that Harris died or retired about 1682. ↩
Ben Jonson’s The Devil Is an Ass was first acted in 1616. ↩
This was afterwards changed, as it became common to adjourn the two houses over the Derby day. In May, 1849, the adjournment of the House of Commons was carried after a division. In 1892 the proposal to adjourn was negatived. ↩
Dennis Gauden, victualler to the navy; knighted when Sheriff of London, October 23rd, 1666. He was buried at Clapham, July 1st, 1688. ↩
John Gauden, D.D., born 1605, was appointed Bishop of Exeter in 1660, and translated to Worcester in 1662. He died on September 20th of the latter year. ↩
Mr. (afterwards Sir Dennis) Gauden was living at Clapham in 1655. The house mentioned in the text had its principal front facing the common, and an avenue from Wits’ Lane led to another front. After Gauden’s death the house was bought by William Hewer, and here Pepys died. It was pulled down about 1762, and on its site was built The Elms, sometime the residence of the late Sir Charles Barry, R.A. ↩
Sir William Russell, of Strensham, in Worcestershire, Bart., Treasurer of the Navy, 1618–27, 1630–42. He advanced £600 to Sir William Davenant in 1660–61, and had a share in the Duke’s Theatre. —B. ↩
Pepys refers to his visit to this place when he was a boy and his cousin John Pepys was living here (see August 2nd, 1662). ↩
Epsom medicinal wells were discovered about 1618, but they did not become fashionable until the Restoration. John Toland, in his Description of Epsom, says that he often counted seventy coaches in the Ring (the present racecourse on the Downs) on a Sunday evening; but by the end of the eighteenth century Epsom had entirely lost its vogue. ↩
Nonsuch Palace was commenced by Henry VIII, and finished by the Earl of Arundel. From Lord Arundel Nonsuch passed to Lord Lumley, who subsequently sold it to Queen Elizabeth. James I settled the palace and park on Anne of Denmark, as did Charles I on Henrietta Maria. At the Restoration the palace was restored to the Queen Dowager. During the plague year of 1665 the house was fitted up for the offices of the Exchequer, and in 1670 it was granted by Charles II to the Duchess of Cleveland, who pulled down the palace, and converted the park into farms. ↩
Sir Edward Turner, M.P. for Hertford, was Speaker of this parliament. ↩
A comedy by Alexander Green, published in 1663, but never acted. ↩
A mistake in the name, as Elizabeth died unmarried. This was Caroline, daughter of Sir George Carteret, who married Thomas Scott (only son and heir of Edward Scott, D.C.L.), of Scot’s Hall, co. Kent, knighted in 1663. He died about 1688, and his widow married Buncombe Abercromby. She died at Oxford, and was buried at Brabourne, December 2nd, 1722. Her portrait, after John Riley, is engraved in J. R. Scott’s Memorials of the Family of Scott of Scot’s Hall, 1876, p. 238. ↩
The marriage licence of Thomas Scott, of Scot’s Hall, co. Kent, bachelor, about twenty, and Dame Carolina de Carterett, about fifteen, is dated July 16th, 1663 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 1197). ↩
Lady Catherine Scott, third daughter of George Goring, Earl of Norwich, and wife of Edward Scott, D.C.L., of Scot’s Hall, co. Kent. She lived twelve years apart from her husband, and it was during this period that she was supposed to have been too intimate with Prince Rupert. Proceedings instituted by her husband in the Ecclesiastical Courts for a divorce were afterwards withdrawn, and before his death and in his will he acknowledged his son Thomas and left him heir to his estate. He died at Scot’s Hall, and was buried at Smeeth, May 22nd, 1663. Lady Catherine Scott died in 1686. ↩
Anne, Sir George’s eldest daughter, married Sir Nicholas Slaning, K.B. ↩
There is a considerable amount of information concerning Petty’s double-keeled boat in Birch’s History of the Royal Society (vol. i). On November 12th, 1662, “Sir William Petty’s letter to Lord Viscount Brouncker concerning his double-bottomed cylindrical vessel was read and ordered to be registered, and he was desired to prosecute this invention and to give farther notice of the success thereof upon trial of the vessel at sea” (p. 124). On November 26th, “Sir William Petty’s second letter to the Lord Viscount Brouncker was read, giving a farther account of his new ship; as also an extract of another letter of his to Mr. Graunt, who was desired to let Sir William know that the Society was well pleased with the invention” (p. 131). The matter was again brought up at the meeting of December 10th, when several letters from Sir William Petty wereread (p. 141). On January 28th, 1662–63, the report of the Committee appointed November 26th, 1662, to examine and give in an account of the matter of fact concerning the structure and sailing of Sir William Petty’s new ship was read, followed by a report of its sailing on Twelfth Day (p. 183). Lord Braybrooke noted that amongst the Sloane MSS. in the British Museum there is an English satirical poem on this vessel, the title of which is, In laudem Navis Geminæ e portu Dublinii ad Regem Carolum IIdum missæ. It contains three hundred lines, and is too long and too scurrilous and worthless to print. “Petty,” observes Lodge (Peerage of Ireland, vol. ii, p. 352), “in 1663 raised his reputation still higher, by the success of his invention of the double-bottomed ship, against the judgment of all mankind. Thomas, Earl of Ossory, and other persons of honour, embarked on board this ship, which promised to excel all others in sailing, carriage, and security; but she was at last lost in a dreadful tempest, which overwhelmed a great fleet the same night.” Petty gave a model of his vessel to the Royal Society. ↩
Cabala, or an Impartial Account of the Nonconformists’ Private Designs, Actings and Ways, from August 24th, 1662, to December 25th in the Same Year. Printed in the Year 1663. Reprinted in Somers Tracts, ed. Scott, vol. vii, p. 567. ↩
Christopher Wren was called in to survey the building, when he proposed extensive alterations in the fabric. Consideration on these proposals was continued until the cathedral was burnt in the Great Fire. ↩
From the minutes of the Royal Society we learn that on July 29th, 1663, Mr. Graunt read two letters from Sir William Petty concerning the success of his new ship in his sailing to Holyhead, and that he was desired to give an extract of these letters to be registered (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 287). ↩
Sir John Lenthall was the elder brother of Speaker Lenthall, and uncle of the person of the same name mentioned in the Diary, May 21st, 1660 (see note 467). He had been knighted as early as 1616, and was marshal of the Marshalsea; and, in 1655, was placed in the Commission of the Peace for Surrey by a special vote of the House of Commons, which explains his crusade against the Quakers. He died in 1668 —B. ↩
A proclamation was issued for Lord Bristol’s arrest in August, see post, September 4th. ↩
A large birdcage, in which the birds can fly about; French volière. Ben Jonson uses the word volary. ↩
Lion Key, Lower Thames Street, where the famous Duchess of Suffolk in the time of Bishop Gardiner’s persecution took boat for the continent. James, Duke of York, also left the country from this same place on the night of April 20th, 1648, when he escaped from St. James’s Palace. ↩
William, son of Robert Hoole of Walkeringham, admitted of Magdalene College, June, 1648. —B. ↩
Susanne de Milleville, daughter of Daniel de Milleville, Baron of Boessen in France, naturalized 1662. Sir Samuel Morland’s second wife was Carola Harsnett, whom he married October 26th, 1670. She died October 10th, 1674. His third wife (married November, 1678) was Anne Feilding (third daughter of George Feilding, of Solihull, co. Warwick), who died February 20th, 1679–80. He married, fourthly, Mary Ayliff, February 1st, 1686–87, from whom he obtained a divorce on July 16th. See Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers. ↩
A younger son of Sir Guildford Slingsby, Comptroller of the Navy, knighted by Charles II, and afterwards created a baronet at Brussels, 1657, which title has long been extinct. —B. ↩
Compare Sir Samuel Morland’s own account in his Autobiography, published by Halliwell Phillipps. —B. ↩
Now Poppin’s Court, the first thoroughfare (under an archway) on the north side of Fleet Street from Ludgate Circus. Hatton (1708) calls it Poppin’s Alley, and on Strype’s map (1720) it appears as Popinjay Court. ↩
“Le Grand d’Aussy (Histoire de la vie privée de François, ed. Roquefort, 8vo, tome i, p. 161) cites this passage from Champier, who wrote in the year 1560: ‘Le concombre, quoiqu’assez recherché en France, etait cependant un aliment tres malsain, et que les habitants du Forez qui en mangeaient beaucoup etaient sujets à des fievres periodiques.’ ” “Miss Strickland thinks Mary I imported them from Spain. They were grown in England in the time of Tusser (see Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry).”
—Buckle, Common Place Book, vol. ii, pp. 377–78
Robert Wild, a Nonconformist divine, published a poem in 1660 upon Monk’s march from Scotland to London, called Iter Boreale. It is written in a harsh and barbarous style, filled with clenches and ear-wickets, as the time called them, which having been in the fashion in the reigns of James I and his unfortunate son, were revived after the Restoration (Scott’s Dryden, vol. xv, p. 296). Wood mentions three other works of the same title, by Fades, Corbett, and Martin, it having been a favourite subject at that time. —B. ↩
All researches after the plan of Lisbon, made for Lord Sandwich, had, until very lately, proved fruitless. A copy, however, has been discovered by Mr. Carpenter, of the British Museum, at the country house of a friend of his, and it has since been purchased for the print room of the museum. The impression is one of those taken off on white satin, at Pepys’s suggestion, but the engraver is the well-known Dirk Stoop; the passage in the Diary probably should be read: “It ought to have been better done than by jobbing.” The title agrees verbally with that given by Pepys, and the engraving contains not only Lord Sandwich’s arms, but also his portrait; he is represented as holding a measuring rod, which marks the scale of miles. In spite of Pepys’s opinion, it may be considered a fine specimen of the artist’s skill; its rarity is very great it is not mentioned in any list of Stoop’s works, nor was it known to collectors. Neither the Pepysian, nor the Royal nor the Museum collections possessed it. Lord Sandwich probably made presents only of the impressions.
Dirk Stoop, who came to England in the suite of Catherine of Braganza, in the capacity of court painter, designed and etched a series of plates, descriptive of the ceremonials and pageants which took place on her marriage. Each etching is 1 foot 10 inches by 7 inches. A complete set is very rare; the British Museum collection, however, possesses them.
“The Entrance of ye Lord Ambassador Montague into the Citty of Lisbone, ye 28th day of March, 1662.” Dedicated to the Earl of Sandwich.
“The publique proceedings of ye Queenes Matie of Greate Britaine through ye Citty of Lisbone, ye 20th day of Aprill, 1662.” Dedicated to Charles II.
“The manner how her Matie Dona Catherina imbarketh from Lisbon for England.” Dedicated to Francisco de Mello, Conde da Ponte.
“The Duke of York’s meeting with ye Royal Navy after it came into ye Channell.” Dedicated to the Duke of York.
“The manner of ye Queenes Maties landing at Portsmouth.” Dedicated to James, Duke of Ormond.
“The coming of ye King’s Matie and ye Queenes from Portsmouth to Hampton-court.” No dedication.
“The triumphall entertainment of ye King’s and Queenes Maties ye by ye Right Honble ye Lord Maior and Cittizens of London at their coming from Hampton Court to Whitehall (on ye River of Thames), Aug. 23, 1662.” Dedicated to Sir John Frederick, Lord Mayor.
Walpole (or rather Vertue), who had seen only the first and sixth etchings, mentions, after Basan, that there were eight pieces. The Plan of Lisbon, just mentioned, was probably supposed to belong to the series. Dirk Stoop also etched a large portrait of the Queen, the rarity of which is so great, that only two impressions are known, viz., one in the Pepysian Library, and one recently presented to the Print Room of the British Museum, by John Heywood Hawkins, Esq., of Bignor Park. Stoop’s picture of the Procession to Whitehall has been noticed (see note 1017). —B. ↩
The king lay the first night at Maidenhead, and the second near Newbury. —B. ↩
Mr. W. H. St. John Hope, assistant secretary of the Society of Antiquaries, has paid particular attention to the history of the municipal insignia of the City of London, and in 1891 he read a paper on the subject before that society. It appears that until 1520 the City swords were provided, not by the Chamberlain, but at the charges of the Mayor for the time being. We are told by Mr. Hope that the swords now belonging to the City of London are four in number: (1) the pearl sword, (2) the Sunday sword, (3) the Old Bailey sword, and (4) the mourning sword. No. 1 is a “fine sword said to have been given to the City by Queen Elizabeth on the occasion of the opening of the Royal Exchange in 1570.” There is, however, no mention of such a gift in the City records, neither do Stow nor other old writers notice it. The sword is certainly of sixteenth century date, and is very possibly that bought in 1554, if it be not that “verye goodly sworde” given by Sir Ralph Warren in 1545. “It has long been the custom in the City as in other places to have a sword painted black and devoid of ornament, which is carried before the Lord Mayor on occasions of mourning or special solemnity. … The present mourning sword has an old blade, but the hilt and guard, which are of iron japanned black, are of the most ordinary character and seemingly modern. The grip and sheath are covered with black velvet.” ↩
This Clerk of the Council is frequently mentioned in the Diary, where the name is usually spelt Luellin. He died in November, 1665 (see November 20th, 1665). On April 26th, 1660, Pepys gives Luellin’s Christian name as Peter. ↩
London was well supplied with water at this time (see Matthews’s Hydraulia, an Historical and Descriptive Account of the Water Works of London, 1835). ↩
It was at this time that the Earl of St. Albans planned St. James’s Square, which was first styled “The Piazza.” The “Warrant for a grant to Baptist May and Abraham Cowley on nomination of the Earl of St. Albans of several parcels of ground in Pall Mall described, on rental of £80, for building thereon a square of 13 or 14 great and good houses,” was dated September 24th, 1664. ↩
Roger L’Estrange, a voluminous writer of pamphlets and periodical papers, and translator of classics, etc. Born 1616. He was Licenser of the Press to Charles II and James II; and M.P. for Winchester in James II’s parliament. L’Estrange was knighted in the reign of James II, and died 1704. In 1663 L’Estrange set up a paper called The Public Intelligencer, which came out on August 31st, and continued to be published twice a week till January 19th, 1665, when it was superseded by the scheme of publishing the London Gazette, the first number of which appeared on February 4th following. ↩
James I having resolved to have these fields laid out in walks like Moorfields, “by a patent of November 16th, 1618,” appointed a commission “to reduce Lincoln’s Inn Fields into walks.” The commissioners called Inigo Jones to their aid. He built some of the houses (on the western side), and it has been asserted that he gave to the ground plot of the square the dimensions of the base of one of the pyramids of Egypt, but this is incorrect. Improvements had also been made in the square in 1657. ↩
Harry Goldingham represented “Arion on a dolphin’s back” in the pageantry exhibited at Kenilworth in honour of Queen Elizabeth (see Thoms’s Anecdotes and Traditions, 1839, p. 28). ↩
George Digby, second Earl of Bristol, was very vindictive against Clarendon, and when he failed in his attack on that minister Charles II was very angry, and Bristol had to retire from Court and remain in concealment for a time. The Proclamation was dated August 25th, 1663. A copy of it is in the British Museum. ↩
Bombay, which was transferred to the East India Company in 1669. The seat of the Western Presidency of India was removed from Surat to Bombay in 1685–87. ↩
The Prerogative Will Office was situated in Paternoster Row (or rather in Ivy Lane) before it was transferred to Doctors’ Commons. ↩
Only daughter of Sir Gilbert Pickering, Bart., and niece of Lord Sandwich, married to John Creed in 1668. ↩
Parson’s Drove is a village in Leverington parish, Cambridge, about five miles from Wisbeach. ↩
Explained in Murray’s New English Dictionary, as “one born and bred in a place, a native,” but no other quotation is given for the word besides this passage in the Diary. ↩
Watson, in his History of Wisbeach, p. 239, names some of the printed books in the library there, but does not mention any of the MSS. Secretary Thurloe’s gallery had been erected at the expense of the Corporation, out of gratitude to him for many services rendered to the town. It is now used for the general accommodation of the inhabitants. —B. ↩
Sir John Colladon, M.D., was elected an Honorary Fellow of the College of Physicians in December, 1664. He was naturalized 14 Car. II, and was one of the Physicians to the Queen (Munk’s Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, vol. i, p. 321). ↩
Sir Edward Ford, of Harting, Sussex, Sheriff for that county, and Governor of Arundel Castle in 1642. Ob. 1670. His only daughter married Ralph Grey, Baron Grey of Werke. He was the author of a tract, entitled, Experimental Proposals how the King may have money to pay and maintain his Fleets, with ease to his people: London may be rebuilt, and all proprietors satisfied: money to be but at six percent, on pawns, and the Fishing Trade set up, which alone is able, and sure to enrich us all. And all this without altering, straining, or thwarting, any of our Laws, or Customs, now in use. 4to 1666. Repr. “Harl. Miscell.,” iv, 195. Ford was High Sheriff of Sussex, adhered to Charles I, and was knighted in 1643. In 1658, he laid down pipes to supply parts of London with water from the Thames. The second and third Lords Braybrooke descend, in the female line, from his daughter, Catherine Ford, who married Ralph, Lord Grey of Werke, their maternal ancestor. —B. ↩
The Patent numbered 138 is printed in the appendix to Wheatley’s Samuel Pepys and the World He Lived In (p. 241). It is drawn in favour of John Colladon, Doctor in Physicke, and of Alexander Marchant, of St. Michall, and describes “a way to prevent and cure the smoking of Chimneys, either by stopping the tunnell towards the top, and altering the former course of the smoke, or by setting tunnells with checke within the chimneys.” Sir Edward Ford’s name does not appear in the patent. ↩
According to Collins, Henry Fitzroy, Lady Castlemaine’s second son by Charles II, was born on September 20th, 1663. He was the first Duke of Grafton. —B. ↩
He lived in Hart Street, and the Navy Board had been in treaty for his house. —B. ↩
Professor Silvanus P. Thompson, F.R.S., has kindly supplied me with the following interesting note on the terrella (or terella):
The name given by Dr. William Gilbert, author of the famous treatise, De Magnete (Lond. 1600), to a spherical loadstone, on account of its acting as a model, magnetically, of the earth; compass-needles pointing to its poles, as mariners’ compasses do to the poles of the earth. The term was adopted by other writers who followed Gilbert, as the following passage from Wm. Barlowe’s Magneticall Advertisements (Lond. 1616) shows: “Wherefore the round Loadstone is significantly termed by Doct. Gilbert Terrella, that is, a little, or rather a very little Earth: For it representeth in an exceeding small model (as it were) the admirable properties magneticall of the huge Globe of the earth” (op. cit., p. 55).
Gilbert set great store by his invention of the terrella, since it led him to propound the true theory of the mariners’ compass. In his portrait of himself which he had painted for the University of Oxford he was represented as holding in his hand a globe inscribed terella. In the Galileo Museum in Florence there is a terrella twenty-seven inches in diameter, of loadstone from Elba, constructed for Cosmo de’ Medici. A smaller one contrived by Sir Christopher Wren was long preserved in the museum of the Royal Society (Grew’s Rarities Belonging to the Royal Society, p. 364). Evelyn was shown “a pretty terrella described with all ye circles and skewing all ye magnetic deviations” (Diary, July 3rd, 1655). ↩
“Naturally grown timber or bars of iron bent to a right angle or to fit the surfaces and to secure bodies firmly together as hanging knees secure the deck beams to the sides.”
“Balsom of Sulphur, 3 or 4 drops in a spoonfull of Syrrup of Colts foote, not eating or drinking two hours before or after.
“The making of this Balsom:
“⅔ds of fine Oyle, and ⅓d of fine Brimstone, set 13 or 14 houres upon ye fire, simpring till a thicke Stuffe lyes at ye Bottome, and ye Balsom at ye topp. Take this off etc.
Lord Braybrooke added (sic) after the words “Queen Elizabeth,” and it is not easy to know what Pepys meant. A reference to the Church History does not throw any light upon the matter. ↩
The Mr. Smith here referred to would appear to be Thomas Smith, who was Secretary of the Admiralty in 1638, about which time Sir George Carteret (then Captain Carteret) held the office of Comptroller of the Navy. ↩
Sir Charles Berkeley, mentioned before, created Lord Berkeley of Rathdown and Viscount Fitzharding in Ireland, 1663, second son to Sir Charles Berkeley of Bruton, co. Somerset; created an English peer by the titles of Lord Botetourt of Langport and Earl of Falmouth, March 6th, 1665. Killed in the great sea-fight, June 3rd, 1665. ↩
One of the clerks of the Privy Council, and secretary to the Marquis of Ormond. He was created Viscount Lanesborough. —B. ↩
This is probably an allusion to the practice of not reporting the deaths of soldiers, that the officers might continue to draw their pay. —B. ↩
Lord Sandwich’s housekeeper appears to have been married to a cook, but we do not know his name, as his wife is always described as “Mrs. Sarah.” ↩
“The condition of the Queen is much worse, and the physicians give us but little hopes of her recovery; by the next you will hear that she is either in a fair way to it, or dead. Tomorrow is a very critical day with her—God’s will be done. The King coming to see her the [this] morning, she told him she willingly left all the world but him, which hath very much afflicted his Majesty, and all the court with him.”
Lord Arlington to the Duke of Buckingham, Whitehall, October 17th, 1663 (Brown’s Miscellanea Aulica, p. 306)
Sir William Compton (1625–1663) was knighted at Oxford, December 12th, 1643. He was called by Cromwell “the sober young man and the godly cavalier.” After the Restoration he was M.P. for Cambridge (1661), and appointed Master of the Ordnance. He died in Drury Lane, suddenly, as stated in the text, and was buried at Compton Wynyates, Warwickshire. ↩
“I have heard they put on the queen’s head when shee was sick, a nightcap of some sort of precious relick to recover her, and gave her extreme unction; and that my Lord Aubignie told her she must impute her recoverie to these. Shee answered not, but rather to the prayers of her husband.”
“The queen was given over by her physicians, … , and the good nature of the king was much affected with the situation in which he saw! a princess whom, though he did not love her, yet he greatly esteemed. She loved him tenderly, and thinking that it was the last time she should ever speak to him, she told him ‘That the concern he showed for her death was enough to make her quit life with regret; but that not possessing charms sufficient to merit his tenderness, she had at least the consolation in dying to give place to a consort who might be more worthy, of it and to whom heaven, perhaps, might grant a blessing that had been refused to her.’ At these words she bathed his hands with some tears which he thought would be her last; he mingled his own with hers, and without supposing she would take him at his word, he conjured her to live for his sake.”
This may be the Coffee House in Exchange Alley, which had for a sign, Morat the Great, or The Great Turk, where coffee was sold in berry, in powder, and pounded in a mortar. There is a token of the house, see Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 592. ↩
“Philip Harman, of St. Michael, Cornhill, gent., bachelor, about 27, and Mary Bromfeild, of St. Sepulchre, London, spinster, about 20, consent of parents—at Little St. Bartholomew, London, 21 Oct., 1663”
Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 627
Sir Francis Prujean, M.D., President of the Royal College of Physicians, 1650–54; Treasurer, 1655–63. He was born in Essex, and educated at Caius College, Cambridge; knighted April 1st, 1661, and died June 23rd, 1666. Vertue (according to Walpole) had seen a print of “Opinion sitting on a tree,” thus inscribed: “Viro clariss. Dno Francisco Prujeano Medico, omnium bonarum artium et elegantiarum fautori et admiratori summo; D. D. D. H. Peacham.” There is a portrait of Prujean by Robert Streater in the College, which was purchased in 1873 of Miss Prujean, the doctor’s last surviving descendant. (See Dr. Munk’s Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, 1878, vol. i, p. 185.) ↩
This refers to a rising in the West Riding of Yorkshire, which took place on October 12th, and was known as the Farneley Wood Plot. The rising was easily put down, and several prisoners were taken. A special commission of oyer and terminer was sent down to York to try the prisoners in January, 1663–64, when twenty-one were convicted and executed. (See Whitaker’s Loidis and Elmete, 1816.) ↩
The eldest son of the infamous Earl of Castlehaven had a new creation to his father’s forfeited titles, in 1634, and died s.p. 1684. Hehadserved with distinction under the Duke of Ormond, and afterwards joined Charles II at Paris. —B. ↩
Leopold I, the Holy Roman Emperor, was born June 9th, 1640. He became King of Hungary in 1655, and King of Bohemia in 1658, in which year he received the imperial crown. The Princes of the German Empire watched for some time the progress of his struggle with the Turks with indifference, but in 1663 they were induced to grant aid to Leopold after he had made a personal appeal to them in the diet at Ratisbon. ↩
Edward Progers, younger son of Colonel Philip Progers, equerry to James I, was page to Charles I, and afterwards groom of the bedchamber to his son the Prince of Wales. He was banished from Charles II’s presence in 1650 by an act of the estates of Scotland, “as an evil instrument and bad counsellor of the king.” He died poor on January 1st, 1713–14, aged ninety-six. He is mentioned in the Grammont Memoirs as the confidant of the king’s intrigues. ↩
Second son of Richard Bateman of Hartington, co. Derby, who had been Chamberlain and M.P. for London. Sir A. Bateman was Sheriff, 1658, and Lord Mayor, 1663. He married Elizabeth Russell. His elder brother was Sir William Bateman, and his younger, Thomas, was created a baronet in 1664. ↩
The band succeeded the ruff as the ordinary civil costume. The lawyers, who now retain bands, and the clergy, who have only lately left them off, formerly wore ruffs. ↩
As the practice of eating with forks gradually was introduced from Italy into England, napkins were not so generally used, but considered more as an ornament than a necessary.
“The laudable use of forks, Brought into custom here, as they are in Italy, To the sparing of napkins.”
Ben Jonson, The Devil Is an Ass, act v, sc. 3
The guests probably brought their own knife and fork with them in a case. —M. B. ↩
A drink, composed usually of red wine, but sometimes of white, with the addition of sugar and spices. Sir Walter Scott (Quarterly Review, vol. xxxiii) says, after quoting this passage of Pepys, “Assuredly his pieces of bacchanalian casuistry can only be matched by that of Fielding’s chaplain of Newgate, who preferred punch to wine, because the former was a liquor nowhere spoken against in Scripture.” ↩
The City plate was probably melted during the Civil War. —M. B. ↩
See in the Appendix the ambassador’s (the Comte de Comminges) account of the affront which he received, and the reparation afterwards made to him, recorded in a letter to Louis XIV, dated November 9th, 1663. ↩
Little or nothing is known as to the particulars of the life of Ralph Greatorex, the famous mathematical instrument maker. Nothing is said in the few lines devoted to his life in the Dictionary of National Biography about his scheme for draining the fens. ↩
Shag was a stuff similar to plush. In 1703 a youth who was missing is described in an advertisement as wearing “red shag breeches, striped with black stripes.” (Planché’s Cyclopædia of Costume). ↩
Defend is used in the sense of forbid. It is a Gallicism from the French défendre. ↩
Thomas Allen was matriculated a pensioner of Trinity College, Cambridge, in December, 1648, but migrated to Caius College, of which he became a Fellow. He proceeded Bachelor of Medicine, 1654; Doctor of Medicine, 1659. He was admitted a Candidate of the College of Physicians, September 30th, 1659, and a Fellow, 1671. Dr. Allen was physician to Bethlehem Hospital, and died of dropsy in 1684 (Munk’s Roll of the Royal College of Physicians). ↩
Sir Edward Ford, son of Sir William Ford of Harting, born at Up Park in 1605.
“After the Restoration he invented a mode of coining farthings. Each piece was to differ minutely from another to prevent forgery. He failed in procuring a patent for these in England, but obtained one for Ireland. He died in Ireland before he could carry his design into execution, on September 3rd, 1670.”
Mary, daughter of Thomas, Lord Fairfax, married to the Duke of Buckingham in 1657. She died November, 1705, aged sixty-six, and was buried in Henry VII’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey. ↩
Silas Taylor, described by A. Wood as alias Domville, was a native of Shropshire, and educated at Oxford, and became a captain in the Parliament forces. Subsequently to the Restoration he was appointed Commissary of Ammunition at Dunkirk, and in 1665 made Keeper of the King’s Stores at Harwich. He died November 4th, 1668. He was an able antiquary, and left materials for a history of Herefordshire and of Harwich. There is a MS. by Silas Taylor in the British Museum (Addit. MSS., 4910). It formerly belonged to Sir John Hawkins, who describes Taylor as well skilled in music, and a composer of two anthems, which pleased the king. (See Hawkins’s Hist. of Music, vol. iv, p. 330, and Wood’s Athenæ.) Taylor published a treatise on Gavelkind in 1663. —B. Aubrey gave an account of Taylor in his Lives of Eminent Men. ↩
“ ‘Demurrage’ is the compensation due to a shipowner from a freighter for unduly decaying his vessel in port beyond the time specified in the charter-party or bill of lading. It is in fact an extended freight. A ship, unjustly detained as a prize is entitled to ‘demurrage.’ ”
John Barclay (1582–1621), author of the admirable and once popular romance Argenis. It is not to the credit of the readers of the present day that the book is now almost forgotten. ↩
William Berkeley (1639–1666), third son of Sir Charles Berkeley of Bruton, second Viscount Fitzharding in the Irish peerage, and younger brother of Charles, Earl of Falmouth. He shared with his brother the favour of the Duke of York. He was Lieutenant of the Swiftsure, 1662; Captain of the Bonaventure in the same year; Captain of the Bristol, 1663; Captain of the Resolution, 1664. Knighted October 12th, 1664, and in the following year appointed Rear-Admiral of the Red Squadron, of which Lawson was Vice-Admiral; Lieutenant-Governor of the Town and Garrison of Portsmouth. He was killed in the engagement with the Dutch, June 3rd, 1666. The entry in the Burial Register of Westminster Abbey, August, 1666, runs as follows:
“Sir William Partly, who died honorably in his Majesty’s service at sea, and was imbalmed by the Hollanders (who had taken his body with the ship wherein he was slain) and sent over by them into England at the request and charges of his relations, was buried in the North aisle of the monuments near the door opening thereto.”
There does not appear to be the slightest ground for connecting Sir William Penn with Quakerism, and all this random talk of Mr. Blackburn should be received with some incredulity. ↩
John Rushworth, born about 1607, clerk assistant to the House of Commons, 1640, and author of the Historical Collections. He died in the King’s Bench Prison, May 12th, 1690. ↩
Captain Thomas Oates of Morley, an old officer in the Parliamentary army. He and his son Ralph Oates head the list of the leaders of the Farneley Wood Plot (see ante, October 24th), It is strange that Pepys should call Captain Oates “a great discoverer,” a description specially appropriate to Titus Oates, but at this date the latter was only twelve years of age. Lord Braybrooke wrote, “The ‘great Discoverer who did employ several to bring and seduce others into a plot,’ was probably Major Greathead, a Commonwealth officer, whom Oliver Heywood, in his Diaries, calls ‘that perfidious wretch, guilty of so much blood in the plot business’—a severity of expression in which he did not often allow himself to indulge.” ↩
A hold:
“For if you side for love or money, With crowns that have so oft undone ye, The dev’l will get a hank upon ye.”
Hudibras Redivivus, part vi, 1706 (quoted in Nares’s Glossary)
For note on Cornelius van Drebbel, see note 1357. ↩
The Milford was a fifth-rate of twenty-two guns, built in 1654 at Wivenhoe by Mr. Page. Its original name was Faggons (Archæologia, vol. xlviii, p. 174). ↩
A small volume by Abraham Cowley, entitled, Verses Lately Written Upon Several Occasions, was published at London in 1663. ↩
Pepys tells us on the 17th inst. that he had read the letter over to Mr. Moore. ↩
Jane Gentleman must not be confused with Jane Wayneman, who had previously been in the service of the Pepyses. ↩
See ante, 17th inst., where we are told that Mr. Moore had the whole letter read to him (note 1990). ↩
Henry, fifth and youngest son of Sir Robert Killigrew, born 1612, M.A., Oxford, 1638, D.D., 1642, prebendary of Westminster, 1660, and Master of the Savoy, 1667. He was author of some plays and sermons. He died March 14th, 1699. His daughter Anne was the celebrated poetess. ↩
The “pretty boy” was Pelham Humfrey, and his anthem is printed in Boyce’s Cathedral Music. The other boys of Captain Cooke’s who could “do as much” were Michael Wise, John Blow, Thomas Tudway, William Turner, and Henry Purcell. (See Rockstro’s History of Music, 1886, p. 173.) ↩
The first part of John Rushworth’s Historical Collections was published in 1659, and an edition appeared in 1662. Henry Scobell’s Collection of Acts and Ordinances Made in the Parliament 1640–56 was published in 1658. ↩
The work of Salomon Gesner, entitled, Liber quatuor de Conciliis, was published at Witemberg in 1601 (2 vols. 8vo). ↩
Cabala: Mysteries of State in Letters of the Great Ministers of King James and King Charles, was first published in 1654, and in 1663 a new edition appeared. ↩
Henry VIII was revived at this time with Betterton as the king and Harris as Wolsey, but Pepys’s description of the play seems to be a very inaccurate one. ↩
Quinsborough is Königsberg. It is most probable that Mr. Harrington had been reading The Travels of Master George Barkely, Merchant of London, as given by Purchas, vol. ii, pp. 625, 627. Königsberg is there spelled Kinninsburge, easily corrupted by Pepys into Quinsborough. The swallow story is found at p. 626: “One here in his net drew up a company or heape of swallows, as big as a bushell, fastened by the leg and bills in one, which being carried to their stoves, quickened, and flew, and coming again suddenly in the cold air, died.” It appears to have been generally believed. In the Advice to a Painter (1667), attributed to Sir John Denham, we find the following lines:
“So swallows, buried in the sea at Spring, Return to land with Summer in their [on the?] wing.”
Edward Dering was granted, August, 1660, “the office of King’s merchant in the East, for buying and providing necessaries for apparelling the Navy” (Calendar, Domestic, 1660–61, p. 212). There is evidence among the State Papers of some dissatisfaction with the timber, etc., which he supplied to the Navy, and at this time he appears to have had some stores left on his hands. ↩
The figurehead of the Naseby (afterwards the Charles) was fully described by Evelyn in his Diary on April 9th, 1655: “I went to see ye greate ship newly built by the Usurper Oliver, carrying 96 brasse guns and 1,000 tons burden. In ye prow was Oliver on horseback trampling 6 nations under foote, a Scott, Irishman, Dutchman, Frenchman, Spaniard and English, as was easily made out by their several habits. A Fame held a laurel over his insulting head: ye word, God with us.” ↩
Elizabeth, daughter and co-heiress of John Walpole of Broomsthorpe. ↩
The three children of John and Anne Pepys, of London and Ashstead, Surrey, were Edward Pepys, of Broomsthorpe, co. Norfolk (born 1617), Elizabeth, married to Thomas Dyke, and Jane, married to Serjeant John Turner. ↩
Sir William Turner was sheriff, 1662, and Lord Mayor, 1668. ↩
There is a farthing token of “Samuell Clever at Cock Pitt Court in Shooe Lane” (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, p. 741). This cockpit had been famous long before Pepys’s day. There is an anecdote of Sir Thomas Jermyn (who died in 1644) and his sending a dunghill cock neatly trimmed to this cockpit, which is little to his credit, in Thoms’s Anecdotes and Traditions, 1839 (p. 47). ↩
Mr. W. Barclay Squire, B. A., of the British Museum, has kindly given the editor the following particulars respecting Humphry Madge, who is several times mentioned by Pepys. The earliest note which Mr. Squire has of Madge is in a docquet, 1661, for the allowance of immediate liveries £16 2s. 6d. each, and allowance of the like liveries yearly to Nicholas Lanier, Henry Lawes, Charles Coleman, George Hudson, David Mall, John Hingeston, Humfrey Madge, and William Gregory (State Papers). He appears as a “Musitian in Ordinary” in a list of the household attributed to July, 1663, in Calendar of State Papers (Dom. Ser., Charles II, vol. lxxvi, p. 67), but certainly earlier, as it contains the name of Henry Lawes, who died in October, 1662. Madge’s name also occurs in e.g. 2159 (Brit. Mus.), in a list endorsed, “the orders for the Musitians,” as one of the twenty-four violins under Grebus’s leadership, annexed to the order of the King’s Treasurer of February 21st, 1668–9. ↩
John Owen, who married a daughter of Captain John Alleyn, was Clerk of the Ropeyard at Chatham. Among the State Papers is a letter from him to Pepys, dated December 14th, asking for his warrant (Calendar, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 373). ↩
“Le mariage du Chevalier de Grammont” (says the Count d’Estrades in a letter written to Louis XIV about this time), “et la conversion de Madame de Castlemaine se sont publiez le même jour: et le Roy d’Angleterre estant tant priè par les parents de la Dame d’apporter quelque obstacle à cette action, répondit galamment que pour l’âme des Dames, il ne s’en mêloit point.” —B.
In consequence of the passing of the Test Act in 1673, the Duchess of Cleveland, who was a Roman Catholic, was no longer able to continue as one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber to Queen Catherine. ↩
Rugge adds, that the queen was in the carriage when the battle took place, her coachman striking the first blow; and that the combatants fought a long time, nobody coming to part them. The Exchange was not reopened till the man who injured the royal servant had been given up. —B. ↩
It is a pity that Pepys, instead of hazarding this absurd remark, did not tell us something more about the Duke of Albemarle’s wound, no other allusion to which has been found; but perhaps he was prejudiced by the hasty and ill-founded opinion of Lord Sandwich, who, as we have seen (Diary, 3rd May 1660), termed Monk a thick-skulled fool. In fact, that great man must have possessed no slight portion of worldly wisdom and common sense. Hallam, whilst differing from Hume as to Monk’s dissimulation, regards his conduct after the king’s return as displaying his accustomed prudence. This is not a feature in the character of a thick-skulled fool. Monsieur Guizot takes a similar view of Monk’s good sound sense. —B. ↩
The Guinea House appears to be another name for the house of the Royal African or Guinea Company, which Pepys tells us on November 23rd, 1663, was situated in Broad Street. A later African House was in Leadenhall Street. ↩
Rebecca Alleyn, spinster (about eighteen), daughter of John Alleyn, was married to Henry Jowles, of Chatham, Kent, bachelor (about twenty-four), in August, 1662 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, col. 779}. In the note on p. 5 of vol. ii the husband’s name is, by mistake, printed as Jewkes. ↩
Sir Nicholas Gold, or Gould, created a baronet in 1660, married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Garrard, Bart., of Lamers, Herts. She remarried Thomas Neal. See June 20th, 1664. —B. ↩
A tragedy by the Hon. Edward Howard, now first acted, but not published until 1668. Oliver Cromwell was alluded to under the name of Damocles the Syracusan, and Hugh Peters is introduced as Hugo de Petra. ↩
When Egerton was Bishop of Durham, he often played at bowls with his guests on the public days. On an occasion of this sort, a visitor happening to cross the lawn, one of the chaplains exclaimed, “You must not shake the green, for the bishop is going to bowl.” —B. ↩
Said to be written or translated by Francis Walsingham, the Jesuit. Arcana Aulica; or, Walsingham’s Manual of Prudential Maxims for the Statesman and the Courtier, London, 1652, 1655. ↩
He was buried in the church of Tattersett (St. Andrew), Norfolk. —B. ↩
Sir Edward Turnour, born in Threadneedle Street in 1617; Speaker of the House of Commons, 1661–71; Solicitor-General, 1670; and Lord Chief Baron, 1671. Died March 4th, 1675–76. ↩
The real name of the knight was Elisha Leighton, whose brother Robert, Bishop of Dumblane, became, soon afterwards, the excellent Archbishop of Glasgow, and as such is more generally known. Their father, Alexander Leighton, was a rank Puritan, author of Zion’s Plea Against Prelacy, for writing which he had his ears cut off, and was exposed in the pillory in that state, with his nose also slit. Elisha was apparently euphonized into Ellis by the courtier son, who is described by Le Neve as one of the Duke of York’s servants. Pepys speaks of him as Secretary of the Prize Office, and adds, that he had been a mad, freaking fellow. See January 25th, 1664–65. —B. Sir Ellis Leighton was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, December 9th, 1663, and admitted on December 16th. ↩
Daniel Whistler, M.D., was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, May 20th, 1663. ↩
Blanch Apleton, in Aldgate Ward, is said by Stow to have been a manor belonging, in the reign of Richard II, to Sir Thomas Roos, of Hamelake, and that in 3 Edw. IV all basket-makers, wire-drawers, and other foreigners were permitted to have shops in this manor and not elsewhere within the city or suburbs. It is enumerated (9 Hen. V) in The Partition of the Inheritance of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex, under the head of “London-Blaunch-Appulton.” Hall, in his Chronicle (ed. 1548), writes it Blanchechapelton. Stow says that in the 13th of Edward I a lane behind Blanch Apleton was granted by the king to be enclosed and shut up. The name was continued in a corrupted form as Blind Chapel Court. ↩
James Turner, a solicitor, commonly called Colonel Tumor, was hanged on January 21st, 1663–64, at Lime Street end, for robbing Mr. Fr. Fryon (sic), merchant (Smyth’s Obituary, p. 59). ↩
The three brothers, George Hamilton, James Hamilton, and the Count Antoine Hamilton, author of the Mémoires de Grammont. ↩
Sir Richard Ford was one of the sheriffs. Tumor’s speech at his execution has been printed. London, 8vo, 1663. ↩
Sir George Ayscue or Askew. After his return from his imprisonment he declined to go to sea again, although he was twice afterwards formally appointed. He sat on the court-martial on the loss of the Defiance in 1668. ↩
Francis Osborne, an English writer of considerable abilities and popularity, was the author of Advice to a Son, in two parts, Oxford, 1656–8, 8vo. He died in 1659. He is the same person mentioned as My Father Osborne, October 19th, 1661. —B. ↩
Mrs. Mary Cherrett, called also Madame Cherrett, lived in the Piazza. (Rate Books of St. Paul’s, Covent Garden.) Mr. George Cherrett, milliner, and Susan, his wife, were living in the Piazza in 1689. —B. ↩
The Indian Queen, a tragedy in heroic verse, by Sir Robert Howard and John Dryden. It was produced with great splendour, with music composed by Purcell. ↩
There is a token of this house extant: “Will Hinton at ye Golden fleece on Corne Hill 1666” (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 573). ↩
John Middleton, Earl of Middleton, general of the forces in Scotland. —B. ↩
The king was greatly interested in the work of the Royal Society, but he liked to have his joke. An examination of Birch’s History of the Royal Society will show how much was done, and how many important investigations were opened up in the early years of the society’s history. ↩
Francis Menhil (Meynell or Maynell), goldsmith, was sheriff in 1661. (See note 1538.) ↩
Anne Marshall, a celebrated actress, and her younger sister Beck, are frequently mentioned by Pepys, who erroneously states that they were the daughters of a Presbyterian minister; Colonel Chester proved conclusively that this was not the case. Stephen Marshall, the eminent preacher, died November 19th, 1655, and at the date of his will five of his daughters were already married, three of them at least to clergymen; his remaining daughter, who proved the will and was unmarried, was named Susan (Westminster Abbey Registers, 1876, p. 149). See note 1337 on Mrs. Davenport. ↩
Apparently from the following licence they were already married:
“Edward Pickering (Pykering), of St. Andrew’s, Holborn, bachelor, about 35, and Mrs. Dorothy Weld, of St. Giles in the Fields, spinster, about 30, and at own dispose—at St. Giles in the Fields, 28 Sept. 1663”
Chester’s London Marriage Licences, 1521–1869, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 1057
Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper (1621–1683) had been created Baron Ashley of Wimborne St. Giles in 1661, and therefore it was not correct to designate him Cooper at this date. ↩
This was the Rose, afterwards known as Will’s Coffeehouse, after William Urwin, the landlord, where Dryden had a chair reserved for him near the fireplace in winter, which was carried into the balcony for him in summer. It was on the west side of Bow Street, and at the corner of Russell Street. In earlier passages of the Diary Pepys speaks of going to Will’s, but as he here says that he went to this coffeehouse for the first time, that must have been some other place. ↩
Probably Alderman Clutterbuck, one of the proposed knights of the Royal Oak for Middlesex. There was a Sir Thomas Clutterbuck of London, circiter 1670. —B. ↩
John Colet, dean of St. Paul’s and founder of the school; born 1466, died 1519. ↩
John Wilkins, born 1614, joined the Solemn League and Covenant, 1648. He married Robinia Cromwell, sister of the Protector, in 1659. Warden of Wadham College, Oxford, 1648–59; Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, 1659; consecrated Bishop of Chester, 1668; died November 19th, 1672. He was one of the founders of the Royal Society. ↩
These two speeches are in the Entertainment at Rutland House, with which Sir William Davenant tried in 1656 to revive dramatic performances. We read, “The curtains are suddenly opened, and in the Rostras appear sitting a Parisian and a Londoner in the livery robes of both cities, who declaim concerning the preeminence of Paris and London.” After the Parisian has declaimed, and “after a concert of Music, imitating the Waits of London, the Londoner rises and answers.” ↩
Charles II followed his brother in the use of the periwig in the following April. ↩
Eldest son of Sir Thomas Chamberlayne, Chief Justice of Chester. He was created a baronet in 1642. ↩
Sir George Oxenden (died 1669) was then the chief factor of the East India Company. The chief seat of government was removed from Surat to Bombay in 1686. ↩
John Creed was elected and admitted a Fellow of the Royal Society, December 16th, 1663. ↩
An opulent East India merchant, residing in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Evelyn dined with him there August 25th, 1676 (see his Diary). He says Sir John “was a merchant of small beginning, but had amassed £100,000.” ↩
The Earl of Sandwich had just moved to a house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Elizabeth Pickering, who afterwards married John Creed, was niece to Lord Sandwich. ↩
Mary, daughter of Henry Giffard, M.D., wife to George Nevill, ninth Earl of Abergavenny. ↩
The tables at which the king dined in public. —B. ↩
It was reported that the “Handsome” Sidney was the father of the Duke of Monmouth, an opinion which was confirmed by the fact that each had a mole on the upper lip. ↩
Lord Braybrooke notes that this was Mr. Justice Waters, said to be “of the Temple” by Thurloe, but Mr. Steinman in his account of Lucy Waters (Althorp Memoirs) says that no brother of Lucy was alive in February, 1663–64. In the Prerogative Court entry, dated December, 1658, Anna Busfield, wife of John Busfield and aunt of Lucy Waters, is given as her next-of-kin. William Walter, who in 1663 was in the list of Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, is not known to have been any connection, and he certainly was not brother to Lucy Waters. ↩
George, Lord Digby, second Earl of Bristol, who had been Secretary of State 1643–49; but by changing his religion while abroad, at the instigation of Don John of Austria, incapacitated himself from being restored to that office; and in consequence of the disappointment, which he imputed to the interference of the Lord Chancellor, conspired and effected his ruin. Charles II gave him the K.G. in 1653, the year in which Lord Digby succeeded his father as Earl of Bristol. He died March 20th, 1678. The feuds between Lords Bristol and Clarendon are frequently mentioned in the Diary. ↩
See the letter of the Comte de Comminges to Louis XIV dated January 25th, 1663–64, (note 1848). ↩
There is a small volume in the Pepysian Library called Shibboleth, ou, Reformation de quelques Passages de la Bible, par Jean d’Espagne; Ministre du St. Evangile, printed 1653, and dedicated to Cromwell. —B. ↩
Humfrey Henchman, Bishop of Salisbury, succeeded Dr. Sheldon as Bishop of London, September, 1663. He died October 7th, 1675, aged eighty-three years. ↩
Lady Robinson was Anne, daughter of Alderman Sir George Whitmore, of Barnes, Surrey, Lord Mayor 1631. ↩
A committee was appointed in September, 1660, to consider the subject of the King’s revenue, and they “reported to the Commons that the average revenue of Charles I, from 1637 to 1641 inclusive, had been £895,819, and the average expenditure about £1,110,000. At that time prices were lower and the country less burdened with navy and garrisons, among which latter Dunkirk alone now cost more than £100,000 a year. It appeared, therefore, that the least sum to which the King could be expected to ‘conform his expense’ was £1,200,000.” Burnet writes, “It was believed that if two millions had been asked he could have carried it. But he (Clarendon) had no mind to put the King out of the necessity of having recourse to his Parliament.”
By Charles Cotton, a voluminous author, but known now chiefly as the continuator of Walton’s Complete Angler. His Scarronides was first published in 1664. ↩
Many attempts to produce a satisfactory revolver were made in former centuries, but it was not till the present one that Colt’s revolver was invented. On February 18th, 1661, Edward, Marquis of Worcester, obtained Letters Patent for “an invencõn to make certeyne guns or pistolls which in the tenth parte of one minute of an houre may, with a flaske contrived to that purpose, be recharged the fourth part of one turne of the barrell which remaines still fixt, fastening it as forceably and effectually as a dozen thrids of any scrue, which in the ordinary and usual way require as many turnes.” On March 3rd, 1664, Abraham Hill obtained Letters Patent for a “gun or pistoll for small shott, carrying seaven or eight charges of the same in the stocke of the gun.” ↩
Building by John Webb; now a part of Greenwich Hospital. Evelyn wrote in his Diary, October 19th, 1661: “I went to London to visite my Lord of Bristoll, having been with Sir John Denham (his Maties surveyor) to consult with him about the placing of his palace at Greenwich, which I would have had built between the river and the Queen’s house, so as a large cut should have let in ye Thames like a bay; but Sir John was for setting it in piles at the very brink of the water, which I did not assent to and so came away, knowing Sir John to be a better poet than architect, though he had Mr. Webb (Inigo Jones’s man) to assist him.” ↩
See note 1463. On November 13th, 1662, Pepys mentions the names of the members of the Commission. ↩
There had been recently established, under the Great Seal of England, a Corporation for the Royal Fishing, of which the Duke of York was Governor, Lord Craven Deputy-Governor, and the Lord Mayor and Chamberlain of London, for the time being, Treasurers, in which body was vested the sole power of licensing lotteries (The News, October 6th, 1664). The original charter (dated April 8th, 1664), incorporating James, Duke of York, and thirty-six assistants as Governor and Company of the Royal Fishing of Great Britain and Ireland, is among the State Papers. The duke was to be Governor till February 26th, 1665. ↩
George, nineteenth Lord Berkeley of Berkeley, afterwards Earl of Berkeley. ↩
A tragedy by Sir William Davenant, first acted at the Blackfriars Theatre, licensed 1635, printed 1643. ↩
Heraclius; or, the Emperor of the East, translated from the French of Corneille, by Ludovic Carlell. Pepys saw it again, February 4th, 1666–67, at the Duke’s Theatre. Carlell’s translation (4to, 1664) was, it is said, never acted. The play which Pepys saw was probably never printed. He saw it at the Duke’s Theatre. —B. ↩
Her dancing in The Slighted Maid is mentioned February 23rd, 1662–63. ↩
Harslet or haslet, the entrails of an animal, especially of a hog, as the heart, liver, etc. ↩
The Intelligencer of March 12th, 1663–64, notices the fall of the house here mentioned. —B. ↩
Probably the sewer from old Southampton House, which was situated on the south side of Holborn, a little above Holborn Bars. The house was pulled down about 1652, and its site is marked by Southampton Buildings. ↩
Pride, haughtiness, only used now as a quotation.
“He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes.”
Parliament met on March 16th, and was at once adjourned until the 21st. ↩
The manor-house of Wimbledon was purchased of Sir Christopher Hatton by Sir Thomas Cecil (afterwards Earl of Exeter), who rebuilt it in 1588. He bequeathed it to his third son, Sir Edward Cecil (afterwards Viscount Wimbledon), at whose death in 1638 it was sold to Queen Henrietta Maria. The estate was seized during the Civil Wars, and a survey was taken by order of Parliament in 1649 (printed in Archæologia, vol. x). At the Restoration it again came into the possession of the Queen Dowager, who in 1661 sold it to George Digby, Earl of Bristol. On his death in 1676 it was sold by his widow to Lord Treasurer Danby (afterwards Duke of Leeds). Wimbledon House, designed by John Thorpe, was a very remarkable building, thought by some (according to Fuller) to be equal, if not to exceed Nonsuch. There is a view of the front in Lysons’ Environs of London. ↩
St. Bride’s, of which Richard Pierson, D.D., the vicar, officiated at the funeral. “March 18, 1663–4, Mr. Thomas Pepys” (“Burial Register of St. Bride’s, Fleet Street”). —B. ↩
Mrs. Pepys’s leaning towards Roman Catholicism was a constant trouble to her husband; but, in spite of his fears, she died a Protestant (Dr. Milles’s certificate.) ↩
The young lady whom Thomas Pepys courted lived at Banbury (see September 30th 1662). ↩
March 16th, 1663–64. This day both Houses met, and on the gist the king opened the session with a speech from the throne, in which occurs this Passage: “I pray, Mr. Speaker, and you, gentlemen of the House of Commons, give that Triennial Bill once a reading in your house, and then, in God’s name, do what you think fit for me and yourselves and the whole kingdom. I need not tell you how much I love parliaments. Never king was so much beholden to parliaments as I have been, nor do I think the crown can ever be happy without frequent parliaments.” (Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, cc. 290, 291). ↩
There are some letters of M. Vernatti or Vernatty (dated 1654, 1656, 1657) among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library. This man appears to have turned out a cheat, and fled the country in 1666 (see post, October 27th, 1667). ↩
The successful operation for the stone took place on March 26th, 1658. ↩
In Pepys’s General Collection of Prints in the Pepysian Library are some coloured engravings of Tangier and the Mole, before they were demolished, and in their ruins, by Thomas Phillips; but Jonas Moore’s map does not appear to be there. ↩
On March 23rd, 1663–64, a Bill for the repeal of the Act entituled “An Act for the preventing the inconveniences happening by the long intermission of Parliaments, and for the provision for the calling and holding of Parliaments once in three years at least,” was read the first time. The question being put that the Bill be read on Tuesday was passed in the negative (yeas 42, noes 129), and it was resolved that the Bill be read the second time on the following morning. Sir Richard Temple was one of the tellers for the yeas (Journal of the House of Commons, vol. viii, p. 526). ↩
Two servants of one Ireland, a cooper upon Bread Street Hill (The Intelligencer, March 28th, 1664). —B. ↩
The church of St. James’s, Clerkenwell, which Pepys visited, was built in 1625 on the site of an older church. The present church was erected 1788–92. The Diarist went to church to see the fair Butlers on August 11th, 1661. ↩
In Ben Jonson’s Every Man in His Humour, there is an allusion to the “Citizens that come a-ducking to Islington Ponds” (act i, sc. i). The piece of ground, long since bulk upon, was called “Ducking-pond Field,” from the pool in which the unfortunate ducks were hunted by dogs, to amuse the Cockneys, who went to Islington to breathe fresh air and drink cream. “On the north side of White Conduit House, now Albert Street, and at the south end of Claremont Place, there existed a deep and dangerous pool called Wheal Pond, which until a late period was famous for this inhuman sport” (Pinks’s History of Clerkenwell, p. 543). The King’s Head Tavern stood opposite the church. ↩
St. James’s Fields consisted of an open space west of the Haymarket, and north of Pall Mall, now occupied by St. James’s Square and the adjacent streets. The square was planned about this time by the Earl of St. Albans. ↩
Henry, third son of Thomas, first Lord Coventry; after the restoration made a Groom of the Bedchamber, and elected M.P. for Droitwich. In 1664 he was sent Envoy Extraordinary to Sweden, where he remained two years, and was again employed on an embassy to the same court in 1671. He also succeeded in negotiating the peace at Breda in 1667, and in 1672 became Secretary of State, which office he resigned in 1679, on account of ill health. He died unmarried, December 7th, 1686. —B. ↩
John Vaughan, appointed Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, and knighted, 1668. He died December 10th, 1674. ↩
Apparently an allusion to the charming poem attributed to Sir Edward Dyer, the friend of Spenser and Sidney:
“My minde to me a kingdome is, Such perfect joy therein I finde.”
It was set to music by the celebrated William Byrd, and published in his Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs of Sadness and Piety, 1588. A black-letter edition of this poem is found in the Pepys Collection of Ballads. ↩
These ships may have been the Adventure and the Providence, which were ready to launch at this time (see Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 499). ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of John Savage, second Earl Rivers, and first wife to William, fourth Lord Petre, who was, in 1678, impeached by the Commons of high treason, and died under confinement in the Tower, January 5th, 1683, s. p. —B. ↩
There are several references to a new ship building about this time at Woolwich among the State Papers. On February 29th, 1663–64, Commissioner Pett, writing to Pepys, expresses his opinion that “the demands of joiners and caners for work on the new ship at Woolwich [are] exorbitant” (Calendar, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 498). ↩
Only son of Sir Willoughby Hickman, of Gainsborough, who had been created a baronet in 1643, and whom he succeeded in his title and estates. He was M.P. for East Retford. —B. ↩
April 5th, 1664. In compliance with the king’s expressed wish “the House immediately set about repealing the obnoxious Triennial Bill, which they stigmatized as derogatory to the prerogative of the Crown, and as a short compensation prepared another short one, which provided that parliaments should not be intermitted above three years” (Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, col. 292). ↩
The two sisters Fenner were married to the two brothers Joyce: Kate to Anthony, and Mary to William. There is a token extant of Anthony Joyce’s house (The Three Stags) “at Hoborn Conded.” The initials “A K I” on the token stand for Anthony and Kate Joyce (see Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 633). ↩
The African or Guinea Company, which had a house in Broad Street. ↩
Among the State Papers is a petition of Thomas Staine to the Navy Commissioners “for employment as plateworker in one or two dockyards. Has incurred ill-will by discovering abuses in the great rates given by the king for several things in the said trade. Begs the appointment, whereby it will be seen who does the work best and cheapest, otherwise he and all others will be discouraged from discovering abuses in future, with order thereon for a share of the work to be given to him” (“Calendar,” Domestic, 1663–64, p. 395) ↩
These notebooks referred to in the Diary are not known to exist now. ↩
Mithridate is understood to denote an antidote, and not, as here, an opiate. ↩
Pepys had been mistaken in fancying that Fuller’s Worthies was to be a history of all the families in England (see ante, January 22nd, 1660–61, and February 10th, 1661–62), and hence his disappointment, when the work came out, some months after the author’s decease, at there being no mention in it of his ancestors. He then looked for the Cliffords, in hopes of finding his wife’s lineage; but with no better success. —B. ↩
Thomas Hill, a man whose taste for music caused him to be a very acceptable companion to Pepys. In January, 1664–65, he became assistant to the secretary of the Prize Office. ↩
Michael De Ruyter, the Dutch admiral, was born 1607. He served under Tromp in the war against England in 1653, and was Lieutenant Admiral General of Holland in 1665. He died April 26th, 1676, of wounds received in a battle with the French off Syracuse. Among the State Papers is a news letter (dated July 14th, 1664) containing information as to the views of the Dutch respecting a war with England. “They are preparing many ships, and raising 6,000 men, and have no doubt of conquering by sea.” “A wise man says the States know how to master England by sending moneys into Scotland for them to rebel, and also to the discontented in England, so as to place the King in the same straits as his father was, and bring him to agree with Holland” (Calendar, 1663–64, p. 642). ↩
William Bodham about this time was appointed clerk of the Ropeyard at Woolwich. ↩
These demonstrations by Robert Hooke at the Royal Society are described in the minutes as follows:
“. The experiment of stretching glass was made by Mr. Hooke, who was desired to give an account of the manner and success thereof in writing.”
“. An account in writing was brought by Mr. Hooke of two experiments tried before the Society at the preceding meeting … 2 of the stretching and shrinking of glass upon heating and cooling; both of which were ordered to be registered.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, pp. 409, 411
A long straight-necked glass vessel used for chemical distillation. ↩
On September 10th, 1663, Sir William Warren contracted with the Navy Commissioners to deliver Gottenburg and Norway masts at the several dockyards. The contract, among the State Papers, has annexed to it: “Tender by Sir William Warren of 150 Gottenburg and 300 Norway masts, with three ships loads of New England masts, to be delivered free of charge at Portsmouth, Chatham, and Deptford,” and “Account of the difference of price between the tenders of Sir William Warren and ⸻ Wood, the former being the cheaper” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 270). ↩
John Evelyn mentions in his Diary (Sept. 25th, 1679) the excellence of the China oranges grown on his own trees, and later on he writes: “. I went to Beddington, the ancient seate of the Carews, heretofore adorned with ample gardens and the first orange trees that had been seen in England planted in the open ground.” William Bray, the editor, says that oranges were eaten in this kingdom in the time of King James I, if not earlier, as appears by the accounts of a student in the Temple, which he had seen. ↩
Captain William Badiley wrote to the Navy Commissioners, February 9th, 1663–64, requesting “a warrant to enter 12 or 14 men to the Elias, which is now afloat.” On March 1st he wrote: “The Elias is ready to take in provisions, but wants men to stow them;” and on April 6th, 1664, he asked for “an order to remove the Elias” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, pp. 474, 502, 546). ↩
“Proceedings in the House of Commons on the reading by Mr. Clifford of the report of the Committee for Trade, at which it was resolved to represent to the House and to his Majesty the injuries done by the Dutch in India, Africa, and America, as the greatest obstruction to trade, and to request some course for redress and prevention. The House adopted the report, and added their resolution to support the King with life and fortune against all opposition; also a conference was desired with the Lords thereon, and Mr. Clifford and others were appointed to manage it.”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 562
“April 22nd, 1664. The following resolution passed both houses, viz.: ‘That the wrongs, dishonours, and indignities done to his Majesty by the subjects of the United Provinces, by invading his rights in India, Africa, and elsewhere, and the damages, affronts, and injuries done by them to our merchants, are the greatest obstructions of our Foreign Trade, and that the same be humbly and speedily presented to his Majesty, and that he be most humbly moved to take some speedy and effectual course for redress thereof, and all other of the like nature, and for prevention of the like in future: and in prosecution thereof, they will, with their lives and fortunes, assist his Majesty against all opposition whatsoever’ ”
Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, col. 292
The following entry in the Calendar of State Papers (1663–64, p. 560), illustrates this: “April 18th, 1664. John Falkener to Sam. Pepys. Mr. [William] Acworth cannot supply deals for the ropeyard, having only eight score; so more will be wanting.” ↩
The description is insufficient to enable the bird to be determined with certainty, but Professor Newton informs the editor that it is most likely to have been a grackle of some kind. The Gracula religiosa, or mina, has a yellow collar, is easily tamed, and learns to talk and whistle with great facility. Professor Newton kindly contributes the following two interesting quotations, showing that minas were brought from India early in the eighteenth century; and he believes that, as the mina is a favourite cage-bird in India, it was brought over as soon as direct trade with that country was established. One of the earliest figures of the bird is by Eleazer Albin (Natural History of Birds, vol. ii, pl. 38) in 1738, who writes: “This bird imitates a human voice, speaking very articulately. I drew this bird at Mr. Mere’s coffeehouse in King Street, Bloomsbury. Sir Hans Sloan had one of these birds that spoke very prettily, which he presented to Her Majesty Queen Carolina. They are brought from East India.” George Edwards (Natural History of Uncommon Birds, vol. i, pl. 17), whose plate is dated September 25th, 1740, gives two figures, one from a bird he saw at a dealers in White Hart Yard, in the Strand, and the other from a bird which belonged to Dr. George Wharton, treasurer of the College of Physicians, adding: “For whistling, singing, and talking, it is accounted in the first rank, expressing words with an accent nearer human than parrots, or any other bird usually taught to talk. They are said to come from the Island of Borneo, and ’tis likely they come from thence and the adjacent parts. They are brought to us by the India Company’s ships.” ↩
In Sir W. Davenant’s The Playhouse to Be Let (supposed to have been acted in 1663), we find an allusion to the Red Bull:
“Tell ’em the Red Bull stands empty for fencers; There are no tenants in it but old spiders. Go bid the men of wrath allay their heat With prizes there.”
J. Payne Collier was in possession of a printed challenge and acceptance of a trial at eight several weapons to be performed betwixt two scholars of Benjamin Dobson and William Wright, masters of the noble science of defence. The trial was to come off “at the Red Bull at the upper end of St. John’s Street, on Whitsun Monday, the 30th of May, 1664, beginning exactly at three of the clock in the afternoon, and the best man is to take all.” The weapons were “backsword, single rapier, sword and dagger, rapier and dagger, sword and buckler, half pike, sword and gauntlet, single faulchion.” ↩
Judith Pepys, daughter of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and wife of J. Scott. ↩
Joseph Moxon, hydrographer to King Charles II, author of Mechanick Dyalling, Mechanick Exercises, etc. In 1668 his shop was on Ludgate Hill, at the sign of the Atlas. In 1693 he had removed to Warwick Lane. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society on November 30th, 1678, and admitted the same day. ↩
Or The Fatal Embarrassment, taken from Corneille. —B. ↩
The Tangiers Merchant was a ship freighted by the Navy Office. ↩
In this case, Robartes v. Wynne, the plaintiff’s bill was in the end dismissed with costs. The following is found among the State Papers:
“Jan. 21, 1664. Order in the case of Rob. and Sara Robartes and their second child Chas. Bodville Robartes v. Sir Rich. Wynne, Bart., and others, relative to the will of John Bodville, who settled a large estate in cos. Carnarvon, Anglesea, and Merioneth, on his daughter Sara Robartes, and her son Charles, whom he educated, on which the Lord Privy Seal [Lord Robartes] settled £3,000 a year on Mr. and Mrs. Robartes; but Bodville was induced by the defendants, when his mind was impaired, to make a will in their favour. The order condemns the conduct of the defendants, but postpones for a year the reparation to be given to the plaintiffs, the case not being ripe for a final decree.”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 450
On March 6th, 1664, Robartes petitioned the House of Lords. The House took the case up, and ordered the Lord Chancellor to make a speedy decree in the High Court of Chancery. Some protests followed this action (see Thorold Rogers’s Protests of the Lords, vol. i, p. 30). For account of the case, see Reports in Chancery, Charles I to 20 Charles II, London, 1693, p. 236; also Lords’ Journals, vol. xi, pp. 606, 608, 609, 630, 631. ↩
It appears that it was not only Sir William Batten who was dissatisfied with Hempson. The following is among the State Papers:
“Jan. 21, 1664. Commissioner Peter Pett to Sam. Pepys. Has sent Capt. Taylors bills. The price of Nath. London’s timber is too great. Fears Mr. Hempson is lost to the service; it is not the king’s interest to give such busy officers so great a liberty [of absence]”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 449
There were several mum houses in various parts of London. One of Andrew Yarranton’s wild schemes, at this time, was to bring the mum trade from Brunswick, and fix it at Stratford-on-Avon. See his England’s Improvement. ↩
The Duke of York’s yacht built by Christopher Pett was named the Anne. ↩
“May 13, 1664. Mr. Prynne having taken the liberty to alter the draught of a Bill relating to Public-houses, having urged in his excuse ‘that he did not do it out of any ill intent, but to rectify some matters mistaken in it, and to make the Bill agree with the sense of the house;’ the house ordered him to withdraw, and after debate being again called in, the Speaker acquainted him, ‘That the house was very sensible of this great mistake in so ancient and knowing a member as he was, to break so material and essential an order of the house, as to alter, amend, or interline a bill after commitment, but the house had considered of his answer and submission, and were content at this time, in respect thereof, to remit the offence’ ”
Cobbett’s Parliamentary History, vol. iv, col. 293
At the Restoration William Ryley had been deprived of all his posts, including the office of Clerk of the Tower Records, which was given to Prynne. Ryley was originally made Lancaster Herald by Charles I, but he sided with the Parliament, and devoted himself to Oliver Cromwell. He was fortunate in being afterwards restored to the post of Lancaster Herald, which he held till his death in 1667, though he failed in getting back Prynne’s appointment. By his wife Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Anthony Chester, Bart., of Chichley, Bucks, Ryley had a numerous issue. Perhaps the son here mentioned was William Ryley, described by Prynne as of the Inner Temple in 1662 (see note 1274). —B. ↩
Pepys does not say whether this experiment was in any way connected with the work of the Royal Society. About this time the minutes contain the following reference: “May 4, 1664. It was ordered that Dr. Croune, Dr. Balle, and Mr. Hooke take care at the next meeting to cut off some skin of a dog; and that the operator provide a dog for that purpose.” Several experiments at subsequent meetings are reported (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 422). ↩
Pepys tried hard to get a husband for his sister Paulina, but for a time without success. Eventually she married John Jackson of Brampton. ↩
See December 23rd, 1662. Boyer, in his Life of Queen Anne, says that he was dismissed for offending her majesty by squeezing her hand. He is mentioned in the State Poems:
“Montagu, by court disaster, Dwindled into the wooden horse’s master.”
Advice to a Painter, part i
It is said that the Duke of York obtained for Edward Montagu the appointment of Master of the Horse to the Queen (see Grammont Memoirs). ↩
Colonel Bullen Reymes, M.P. for Weymouth, is referred to in a communication of Rich. Yardley, Mayor of Weymouth, January 2nd, 1664 (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 427). He died in 1673. ↩
Tilt (A.S. teld) represents a tent or awning. It was used for a cloth covering for a cart or wagon, or for a canopy or awning over a portion of a boat. ↩
Sons of Thomas Pepys, elder brother of Samuel’s father. Charles Pepys was subsequently master joiner at Chatham Dockyard. ↩
The parish church of St. Sepulchre’s was known as St. Sepulchre’s in the Bailey. The Quest House was rebuilt by Dr. William Bell, vicar from 1662 to 1683. Strype writes of this: “A new house, free to Dr. Bell’s successors, with a yard thereto. The use of a parlour, kitchen, and washhouse under the Quest-house that belonged to the parish for the said Bell’s time, he being at the trouble to build it, and brought £200 towards it; the use thereof reserved to the parish on public occasions of quest or burials.” ↩
One of the Banda Islands, which had acknowledged James I as its sovereign, but was afterwards forcibly seized by the Dutch. A series of letters from Sir George Downing to Lord Chancellor Clarendon (written at this time) is printed in Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii. These letters contain references to the Leopard, and on May 13th we read the plea of the United Provinces: “We have taken nothing from the king nor his subjects, nor hath he taken anything from us, nor do demand anything of us, and why then should we ingage ourselves, and spend our monies, to maintain the insolvencies of the East India Company?” (p. 322). ↩
Evelyn refers to Mr. Povy’s house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and particularly mentions the perspective painted by Streeter, as well as the ranging of the wine bottles in the cellar (July 1st, 1664). ↩
Grace, youngest daughter of Sir John Corbet of Stoke, Salop, who married Sir William Poulteney or Pulteney, of Mesterton, co. Leicester, who was knighted at Whitehall, June 4th, 1660. He was grandfather to William, first Earl of Bath. ↩
This was the gatehouse designed by Holbein, which had formerly been occupied as the residence of General Lambert. It was now appropriated to Lady Castlemaine. ↩
John Spencer, D.D., who died in 1695, was also the author of a celebrated work, De Legibus Hebræorum. His Discourse Concerning Prodigies first appeared in 1663; the second edition, of 1665, contains likewise a Discourse Concerning Vulgar Prophecies. —B. ↩
Robert Southwell (born at Kinsale, Ireland, in 1635) was educated at Queen’s College, Oxford, and afterwards entered at Lincoln’s Inn. On September 27th, 1664, he was sworn one of the clerks of the Privy Council, and was knighted November 20th, 1665. He was employed on several diplomatic missions, and retired from public business in 1681. William III appointed him principal Secretary of State for Ireland; and on December 1st, 1690, he was elected President of the Royal Society, an office which he held for five years. He died at his seat, King’s Weston, Gloucestershire, in 1702. There is a portrait of Southwell by Kneller at the Royal Society. ↩
Particulars of the loss at Tangiers is given in The Intelligencer, June 6th, 1664. ↩
The stage was covered in by a tiled roof, but the pit was open to the sky.
“The pit lay open to the weather for sake of light, but was subsequently covered in with a glazed cupola, which, however, only imperfectly protected the audience, so that in stormy weather the house was thrown into disorder, and the people in the pit were fain to rise.”
Major Fiennes, whose regiment formed part of the garrison of Tangiers. ↩
Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick, Lord High Admiral for the Parliament, 1643–45, 1648–49. See June 29th, 1667, where this incident is again alluded to. ↩
Colonel Robert Blake took Taunton by surprise in 1644, and held it against two sieges by the Royalists until July, 1645, when it was relieved by Fairfax. Lyme Regis declared for the Parliament, and withstood a siege of seven weeks by Prince Maurice until relieved by the Earl of Essex. ↩
In a letter of Sir George Downing to the Earl of Clarendon, dated May 20th, 1664, he says “that he does not find Peter de Groot opiniatrative” (Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. ii, p. 331). ↩
For mention of the previous agreement that Pepys should have the refusal of Mr. Young’s place at the Wardrobe for his father, see June 3rd, 1661. ↩
Robert Bretton, D.D., vicar of St. Nicholas, Deptford (see note 1817). ↩
Mark Harrison was captain of the Elias in the fleet at Schevening attending Charles II on his return to England. ↩
William Prynne had published in 1628 a small book against the drinking of healths, entitled, Healthes, Sicknesse; or a compendious and briefe Discourse, prouing, the Drinking and Pledging of Healthes to be sinful and utterly unlawful unto Christians … wherein all those ordinary objections, excuses or pretences, which are made to justifie, extenuate, or excuse the drinking or pledging of Healthes are likewise cleared and answered. The pamphlet was dedicated to Charles I as “more interessed in the theme and subject of this compendious discourse then any other that I know,” and “because your Majestie of all other persons within your owne dominions, are most dishonoured, prejudiced, and abused by these Healthes.” ↩
Lord Ashworth is probably a miswriting for Lord Ashley (afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury). ↩
John Berkinshaw (see note 1291). In the minutes of the Royal Society there is the following entry: “Nov. 12, 1662. Mr. Berckenshaw’s paper on music was presented by Dr. Charlton; and Lord Viscount Brouncker was desired to examine it” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 125). ↩
The ambassador sent from the States General was Herr Van Goch (see Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, pp. 620, 670, 674). ↩
Sir John Coke (1563–1644) in 1618 was one of a special commission appointed for the examination of the state of the navy. He was rewarded for his work in the reform of the naval administration by a grant of £300 a year, charged on the funds of the navy, and expressly stated to be given “for his service in several marine causes, and for the office of ordnance, which he had long attended far remote from his family and to his great charge” (November, 1621). —Dictionary of National Biography↩
The Cherry Garden was a place of public entertainment at Rotherhithe. The site is marked by Cherry Garden Stairs, a landing-pier for Thames steamers and small boats. ↩
Dr. Thomas Hodges, vicar of Kensington and rector of St. Peter’s, Cornhill. He had been, in September, 1661, preferred to the deanery of Hereford, which he held with his two livings till his death, August 22nd, 1672. —B. ↩
“Taille, the proportion, size, or stature of a man.”
The house, afterwards known as Nottingham House and Kensington Palace, was at this time the seat of Sir Heneage Finch, created Earl of Nottingham, 1681. It was sold by his son to King William, who greatly improved it. ↩
Laver denotes a pond, cistern, trough, or conduit. “Laver, to washe at, lavoyr” (Palsgrave). ↩
Among the State Papers is a petition of Captain Edward Witham (1663?) for half-pay or employment, his troop of horse at Tangiers being disbanded and he in poverty, and the other officers being on half-pay (Calendar, 1663–64, p. 422). ↩
Bear’s Quay was a market for corn near Billingsgate. ↩
We have here a curious picture of the dreadful state of the streets in London in 1664. No improvement of what they were a century before, when they were described as “very foul, full of pits and sloughs, very perilous and noxious” (Knight’s London, vol. i, p. 26), appears to have taken place. The alarm of Lady Paulina and Pepys at night was not surprising. —B. ↩
Reports of De Ruyter’s death were frequently abroad. He did not die till 1676. ↩
Lady Gold married Thomas Neale. She had four brothers. ↩
Sidney Montagu, second son of the Earl of Sandwich, who afterwards assumed the name of Wortley, and was father of Edward Wortley Montagu (husband of the celebrated Lady Mary Wortley Montagu). ↩
“There died this last weeke at Amsterdam 730, but they feare an increase this weeke; and the plague is scattered generally over the whole country, even to Little Dorps and Villages: and it is gott to Antwerp and Bruxells, so that they will not suffer any ships or vessels of Holland or Zeland to come to Antwerp; and 2 severall shipps are returned out of Spaine for that they would not suffer them to have any trade at all there.”
Sir George Downings letter to Lord Clarendon, July 29th, 1664. Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii, p. 331
From the commencement of the reign of Henry VIII, or perhaps earlier, it was the custom of the City of London to provide against scarcity, by requiring each of the chartered Companies to keep in store a certain quantity of corn, which was to be renewed from time to time, and when required for that purpose, produced in the market for sale, at such times and prices, and in such quantities, as the Lord Mayor or Common Council should direct. See the report of a case in the Court of Chancery, Attorney-General v. Haberdashers’ Company (Mylne and Keens Reports, vol. i, p. 420). —B. ↩
This seems to refer to knee timber, of which there was not a sufficient supply. A proposal was made to produce this bent wood artificially:
“June 22, 1664. Sir William Petty intimated that it seemed by the scarcity and greater rate of knee timber that nature did not furnish crooked wood enough for building: wherefore he thought it would be fit to raise by art, so much of it in proportion, as to reduce it to an equal rate with strait timber.”
Pliny tells us that cherries were introduced into Britain by the Romans, and Lydgate alludes to them as sold in the London streets. Richard Haines, fruiterer to Henry VIII, imported a number of cherry trees from Flanders, and planted them at Tenham, in Kent. Hence the fame of the Kentish cherries. ↩
Glossarium Archaiologicum, of which only the first part, to the letter L, was published by Spelman himself, 1626; the work was completed in 1664 by Sir William Dugdale from the author’s papers. Sir Henry Spelman died, October, 1641, at the house of his son-in-law. Sir Ralph Whitfield, in the Barbican, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Dr. Burnett’s advice to mee.
The Originall is fyled among my letters.
Take of ye Rootes of Marshmallows foure ounces, of Cumfry, of Liquorish, of each two ounces, of ye Mowers of St. John’s Wort two Handsfull, of ye Leaves of Plantan, of Alehoofe, of each three handfulls, of Selfeheale, of Red Roses, of each one Handfull, of Cynament, of Nutmegg, of each halfe an ounce. Beate them well, then powre upon them one Quart of old Rhenish wine, and about Six houres after strayne it and clarify it with ye white of an Egge, and with a sufficient quantity of sugar, boyle it to ye consistence of a Syrrup and reserve it for use.
Dissolve one spoonefull of this Syrrup in every draught of Ale or beere you drink.
Morning and evening swallow ye quantity of an hazelnut of Cyprus Terebintine.
If you are bound or have a fit of ye Stone eate an ounce of Cassia new drawn, from ye poynt of a knife.
Old Canary or Malaga wine you may drinke to three or 4 glasses, but noe new wine, and what wine you drinke, lett it bee at meales.
From a slip of paper inserted in the Diary at this place
“Their Majesties were treated at Tilbury Hope by the Earl of Sandwich, returning the same day, abundantly satisfied both with the dutiful respects of that honourable person and with the excellent condition of all matters committed to his charge.”
This was Speght’s edition of 1602, which is still in the Pepysian Library. The book is bound in calf, with brass clasps and bosses. It is not lettered. ↩
This fine portrait is still at Hinchingbroke, and in very good preservation. —B. ↩
The mineral springs at Barnet Common, nearly a mile to the west of High Barnet. The discovery of the wells was announced in the Perfect Diurnall of June 5th, 1652, and Fuller, writing in 1662, says that there are hopes that the waters may “save as many lives as were lost in the fatal battle at Barnet” (Worthies, Herts). A pamphlet on The Barnet Well Water was published by the Rev. W. M. Trinder, M.D., as late as the year 1800, but in 1840 the old well-house was pulled down. ↩
For “owneth.” This sense is very common in Shakespeare. In the original edition of the authorized version of the Bible we read: “So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that oweth this girdle” (Acts 21:11) Nares’s Glossary. ↩
Near Salisbury, granted by Edward VI to Sir W. Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, for two lives, which lease determined in 1601, when it reverted to the Crown, and was conferred on the Duke of Albemarle, whose family got the estate after Lord Clarendon’s fall; for, according to Britton, Clarendon Park was alienated by Christopher, second Duke of Albemarle, to the Earl of Bath, from whom it passed, by purchase, to the ancestor of Sir Frederic Hervey Bathurst, Bart., the present possessor. In Lister’s Life of Lord Clarendon (vol. iii, p. 340) there is a letter of Sir Robert Hyde to Clarendon on the complaint respecting the trees, and in a note the author examines the complaint of the Chancellor. He writes: “There was, however (as appears from this letter), more reason for complaint than is admitted by Pepys; for at the very time the Commissioners sent down a person to mark standing timber for felling, there was a good deal of timber, the property of the Crown, lying on the estate unappropriated, which had been ‘felled divers years’ before, and till this was used, the felling of other timber there was evidently unnecessary.” ↩
To provoke or affront a man to his face (Bailey’s Dictionary). ↩
Their sixth son, James Montagu, who died unmarried. ↩
There were several Brewer’s Yards in London. This was probably the one by King Street, Westminster. ↩
Evelyn attended this lottery, which he seems to have held was a complete imposition. He wrote: “To London to see the event of the lottery which his Majesty had permitted Sir Arthur Slingsby to set up for one day in the Banqueting House at Whitehall. I gained only a trifle, as well as did the King, Queen Consort and Queen Mother for near 30 lotts; which was thought to be contriv’d very unhandsomely by the master of it, who was, in truth, a meer shark” (July 19th, 1664). ↩
A comedy adapted from the Spanish by George Digby, Earl of Bristol, which was not printed. ↩
This was not so, as the Adventures of Five Hours was by Sir Samuel Tuke, although Downes (Roscius Anglicanus) says that the Earl of Bristol had a hand in this play. ↩
Among the State Papers is a receipt by Thomas Harper, of Gottenburg deals, etc., from Sir William Warren, dated “Deptford, July 27, 1664” (Calendar, 1663–64, p. 653). Complaints, promoted by Sir William Batten, were subsequently made respecting this contract with Sir William Warren; and Pepys alludes to them in his “Defence” (dated November 27th, 1669), which is contained in one of the Pepysian manuscripts (No. 2554). ↩
Jonas Shish, master-shipwright at Deptford. There are several papers of his among the State Papers.
“I was at the funeral of old Mr. Shish, Master Shipwright of His Majesty’s Yard here, an honest and remarkable man, and his death a public loss, for his excellent success in building ships (though altogether illiterate) and for bringing up so many of his children to be able artists. I held up the pall with three knights who did him that honour, and he was worthy of it. It was the custom of this good man to rise in the night and pray, kneeling in his own coffin, which he had lying by him for many years. He was born that famous year, the Gunpowder-plot, 1605”
Giacomo Carissimi, maestro di capella of St. Apollinare, in the German College at Rome, one of the most excellent of the Italian musicians. He lived to be ninety years old, composed much, and died very rich (Hawkins’s Hist. of Music). —B. ↩
“I went to St. Paul’s church, where, with Dr. Wren, Mr. Pratt, Mr. May, Mr. Thomas Chicheley, Mr. Slingsby, the Bishop of London, the Dean of St. Paul’s (Dr. Sancroft), and several expert workmen, we went about to survey the general decays of that ancient and venerable church, and to set down in writing the particulars of what was fit to be done, with the charge thereof, giving our opinion from article to article.”
“March 14, 1664. The King to the Duke of York, Governor, and the Assistants of the Royal Fishing Company. Recommends George Duke, late Secretary of the Committee for Trade, to be entertained by them in the same post, for which he is particularly fitted.”
Massinger’s tragedy, first acted before the Court at Whitehall, 1623. ↩
General Soushe was Louis Ratuit, Comte de Souches. The battle was fought at Lewenz (or Leva), in Hungary. —B. ↩
George Penn, the elder brother of Sir W. Penn, was a wealthy merchant at San Lucar, the port of Seville. He was seized as a heretic by the Holy Office, and cast into a dungeon eight feet square and dark as the grave. There he remained three years, every month being scourged to make him confess his crimes. At last, after being twice put to the rack, he offered to confess whatever they would suggest. His property, £12,000, was then confiscated, his wife, a Catholic, taken from him, and he was banished from Spain forever. —M. B. ↩
Among the State Papers is the licence (dated March, 1664) to William Legg “to erect a nursery for breeding players in London or Westminster under the oversight and approbation of Sir Wm. Davenant and Thos. Killigrew to be disposed of for the supply of the theatres (Calendar, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 539). ↩
The Rev. Alfred Povah, D.D., rector of St. Olave’s, Hart Street, has been so kind as to give the editor the following extract from the register of burials of that parish, in illustration of the above entry: “1664, August 3. Mr. George Penn was Buryed in ye Chancell.” ↩
A tragicomedy by Dryden, first printed in this year. ↩
A poem upon the death of Walter Clun was published at the time, with the following title: An Elegy upon the most execrable murder of Mr. Clun, one of the comedians of the Theatre Royal, who was robbed and most inhumanly killed on Tuesday night, being the 2nd of August, 1664, near Tatnam Court, as he was riding to his country house at Kentish Town. Clun was noted for his performance of Iago. ↩
Charles Berkeley, Viscount Fitzharding, was created Earl of Falmouth in March, 1665, and he was killed in battle in the following June. He was never made a marquis. ↩
Flora’s Vagaries, a comedy by Richard Rhodes when a student at Oxford, was first acted by his fellow-students at Christ Church on January 8th, 1663. Sir Henry Herbert records its performance in London on November 3rd, 1663. It was printed in 1670 and 1677. The character of Flora was afterwards played by Nell Gwynn (see October 5th, 1667). ↩
This was the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turks were defeated with great slaughter by the imperial forces under Montecuculli, assisted by the confederates from the Rhine, and by forty troops of French cavalry under Coligni. St. Gothard is in Hungary, on the river Raab, near the frontier of Styria; it is about one hundred and twenty miles south of Vienna, and thirty east of Gratz. The battle took place on the 9th Moharrem, A.H. 1075, or 23rd July, A.D. 1664 (old style), which is that used by Pepys. —B. ↩
The fact is, the Germans were beaten by the Turks, and the French won the battle for them. —B. ↩
Edward Cocker (whose name has become proverbial) is associated in popular memory with a work in the production of which there is every probability that he had nothing to do. He was born in 1631, probably in Norfolk, and at one time he was a schoolmaster at Northampton. Between 1657 and 1675, when he died, he published a large number of works on penmanship and the rules of arithmetic. In 1657 he was living in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and not long before his death he removed to “Gutter Lane near Cheapside.” He was buried in St. George’s Church, Southwark. In 1678, three years after his death, John Hawkins published the famous Cocker’s Arithmetick, and stated that it was printed from Cocker’s own copy; but Professor De Morgan was of opinion that the work was a forgery by Hawkins. In 1685 Hawkins published what he styled Cocker’s Decimal Arithmetic. We learn something of Cocker’s personality from several entries in the Diary (see article, “Who was Cocker?” Bibliographer, July, 1884, vol. vi, p. 25). ↩
Pepys refers to the passage in Troylus and Cryseyde (book iii, stanza ccii, lines 1408–1414):
“Allas! what hath this lovers the agylte? Dispitous Day, thyn be the pyne of Helle! For many a lover hastow slayn, and wilt; Thi pourynge in wol nowher lat hem dwelle: What? profrestow thi light here for to selle? Go selle it hem that smale seles grave, We wol the nought, as nedeth no day have.”
Morris’s Aldine edition of Chaucer, vol. iv, p. 284
The General Post Office was originally in Cloak Lane, Dowgate Hill, but was subsequently removed to the Black Swan, Bishopsgate. The latter place was destroyed in the Fire of London in 1666. There is no notice of these music meetings in the records of the Post Office. ↩
Lord Viscount Brouncker was the first president of the Royal Society after the charter had been obtained, but Sir Robert Moray had been appointed president when the society was first founded, and it was in his honour as a Scotsman that the anniversary meeting was fixed to take place annually on St. Andrew’s Day (November 30th). ↩
Portuguese has frequently been treated as a plural, and a false singular, Portuguee, formed from it. See an interesting paper by Mr. Danby P. Fry, “On the words Chinee, Maltee, Portuguee, Yankee, Pea, Cherry, Sherry, and Shay” (Philological Society’s Transactions, 1873–74, p. 253). ↩
An optical instrument used to enable objects to be seen in the dark. The name is derived from the Greek words σκότος and σκοπἑω. ↩
King Henry was acted by Harris and Owen Tudor by Betterton. Downes says that the “play was splendidly cloth’d. The King in the Duke of York’s coronation suit, Owen Tudor in King Charles’s, Duke of Burgundy (Smith) in the Lord of Oxford’s, and the rest all new.” Mrs. Betterton (Ianthe) acted as Princess Katharine. Mrs. Long was the Queen of France, and Mrs. Davis, Anne of Burgundy. ↩
Experimental Philosophy in Three Books, Containing New Experiments, Microscopical, Mercurial, Magnetical; London, 1664, by Henry Power (sm. 4to, pp. 192). Mr. F. C. S. Roper, who printed privately in 1865 a Catalogue of Works on the Microscope, described this as the earliest work on the microscope in the English language which he had met with. ↩
Among the State Papers is a letter from Edward Montagu to Secretary Bennet, dated August 29th, 1664, in which he writes, “If his last proposal do not succeed, will rather choose what is worst for himself than trouble his friends any longer; and if unable to serve him another way, will do it by ridding him of his importunity” (Calendar, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 675). ↩
A tragicomedy by James Shirley, “written when the stage was interdicted,” and first performed after the Restoration. Before the publication of this notice in Pepys, Langbaine’s statement was the only evidence that it had ever been acted. —B. ↩
Pepys notices Sir W. Penn’s feast on the anniversary of his wedding-day, when he had been married eighteen years (January 6th, 1661–62). See vol. ii, p. 165. ↩
The fourth edition of Samuel Daniel’s Collection of the History of England was published in 1650, and the fifth edition in 1685. The first part was originally published in 1612. ↩
Elizabeth Falkener, wife of John Falkener, announced to Pepys the death of “her dear and loving husband” in a letter dated July 19th, 1664 “begs interest that she may be in something considered by the person succeeding her husband in his employment, which has occasioned great expenses.” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 646) ↩
Sturbridge Fair, which is still held, is of great antiquity. The first trace of it is to be found in a charter granted about 1211 by King John to the Lepers of the Hospital of St. Mary Magdalen at Sturbridge by Cambridge. The fair was to be held in the close of the hospital on the vigil and feast of the Holy Cross. The name is derived from the little river of Stere or Sture, flowing into the Cam near Cambridge. ↩
Gardener’s Lane, Westminster, between King Street and Duke Street. ↩
James Huysman (1656–96). In Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting he is said to have “rivalled Lely, and with reason.” ↩
In the Royal Collection.
“The dress is that of a cavalier about the time of the Civil War, buff with blue ribands.”
Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting, ed. Dallaway, vol. ii, p. 122, note
Huysman is said by Walpole to have been himself most partial to his picture of Queen Catherine. “He created himself the queen’s painter, and to justify it, made her sit for every Madonna or Venus that he drew.” ↩
William Penn, afterwards the famous Quaker. P. Gibson, writing to him in March, 1711–12, says: “I remember your honour very well, when you newly came out of France and wore pantaloon breeches.” ↩
Tom Edwards made love to Mrs. Pepys’s chambermaid Jane (see February 11th, 1667–68), and Jane had a fit of jealousy on August 19th, 1668, but the two were married on March 26th, 1669. There is some confusion in the Diary between the Pepys’s chambermaids named Jane, for reference is made to Jane Wayneman and to Jane Gentleman, but it appears from the marriage licence that Tom’s wife was Jane Birch. The licence is as follows: “Thomas Edwards, of St. Olave, Hart Street, London, gent., bachelor, about 25, and Jane Birch, of same, spinster, about 24, and at own disposal, at St. Olave aforesaid, 19 March, 1668–69” (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, col. 443). Tom Edwards’s death is referred to in a letter from Pepys to Sir Richard Haddock, dated August 20th, 1681 (Rawlinson, A. 194, fol. 256, Bodleian Library). In the following year Pepys got his orphan son into Christ’s Hospital, as appears by a letter dated April 7th, 1682: “This will be brought by the widow Jane Edwards, mother of the boy Samuel Edwards, for whom Sir John Frederick has been pleased by your hand to send me a paper for his admission into the hospital. His father was his Majesty’s servant in the Navy for near twenty years past, and lately died an officer therein, leaving this poor woman with two small children (whereof this, being between nine and ten years old, is the eldest), and without aught more towards her and their support (through his and her long and chargeable sickness) than what she can earn in service” (Pepys’s Life, Journals, and Correspondence, 1841, vol. i, p. 284). ↩
Walter Porter published Mottets of two Voices for Treble or Tenor and Basse, etc., to be performed to an Organ, Harpsichord, Lute or Base-Viol. London 1657. ↩
Mrs. Ferrabosco was probably the daughter of Alphonso Ferrabosco, himself the son of Ben Jonson’s friend. ↩
The Henrietta (previously the Langport) was a third-rate of fifty guns, built at Horselydown in 1654 by Mr. Bright (Archæologia, vol. xlviii, p. 170). ↩
Pepys referred to this same play on September 24th, 1662. ↩
Herr Van Goch, ambassador from the States-General. ↩
At a meeting of the Royal Society on September 14th, 1664, it was resolved that “Prince Rupert be desired by Sir Robert Moray to try in his expedition to Guinea the sounding of depths without a line and the fetching up of water from the bottom of the sea” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 467). ↩
Mr. Margets, a rope merchant near the Custom House, is mentioned in the examination of Eliz. Oldroyd, July 12th, 1664 (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 639). ↩
Pepys would have been more proud of his cousin had he anticipated her husband’s becoming a knight, for she was probably the same person whose burial is recorded in the register of St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate, September 4th, 1704: “Dame Sarah Gyles, widow, relict of Sir John Gyles.” —B. ↩
A comedy by Sir William Davenant, first published in 1668. It is an alteration of The Two Noble Kinsmen. Harris played Theocles Betterton, Philander. Gosnell is not mentioned in the cast by Downes. The character of Celania was afterwards acted by Mrs. Davis, who captivated Charles II in this part. ↩
Among the State Papers is a “Statement of Articles in the Covenant proposed by the Commissioners for the Royal Fishing to, Sir Ant. Desmarces & Co. in reference to the regulation of lotteries; which are very unreasonable, and of the objections thereto” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1663–64, p. 576.) ↩
Baulmes, at Hoxton, belonged to Sir George Whitmore, of Barnes, in Surrey, who was Lord Mayor in 1631, and a great sufferer for the royal cause. His daughter Anne, mentioned by Pepys, Febniary 28th, 1663–64, married Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower. Baulmes is described as an old square mansion, with two storeys in the roof; it was afterwards converted into a madhouse, and demolished in the year 1852. —B. ↩
Mem: eū in ordinem com̃ensaliū cooptatū fuisse Apr: 17° 1651 Tutore hoc tempore Dno Morland.
Joannes Skeffington filius Ricardi Skeffington, equitis, de coventriâ, annum agens decimum septimum, admissus est Pensionarius, Tutore Mro Merryweather.
—M. B.
Sir John Skeffington married Mary, only daughter and heir of Sir John Clotworthy, who was in 1660 created Viscount Massareene of Ireland, with remainder to his son-in-law, Sir John Skeffington, who succeeded as second Viscount in 1665, and died in 1695. —B. ↩
In Lord Clarendon’s Essay, “On the Decay of Respect Paid to Age,” he says that in his younger days he never kept his hat on before those older than himself, except at dinner. —B. ↩
At the Commencement (Comitia Majora) in July, the Prævaricator, or Varier, held a similar position to the Tripos at the Comitia Minora. He was so named from varying the question which he proposed, either by a play upon the words or by the transposition of the terms in which it was expressed. Under the pretence of maintaining some philosophical question, he poured out a medley of absurd jokes and personal ridicule, which gradually led to the abolition of the office. In Thoresby’s Diary we read, “Tuesday, July 6th. The Prævaricator’s speech was smart and ingenious, attended with vollies of hurras” (see Wordsworth’s University Life in the Eighteenth Century). —M. B.
In Dean Peacock’s work on the Statutes of the University of Cambridge, Appendix A, p. xxvi, there is an interesting account of the Varier or Prævaricator. —B. ↩
Apparently Lawrence Dupuy, who was associated with other projectors in the promotion of lotteries. ↩
Both these plays were by Beaumont and Fletcher, or probably by Fletcher alone. ↩
Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, created Earl of Orrery, 1660. Died October 16th, 1679. A tragicomedy with the same title has been attributed to Shirley. The Rev. T. Morrice, n his memoirs of Lord Orrery, says that Charles II “was the first to put my Lord upon writing plays, which his Majesty did on occasion of a dispute that arose in his royal presence about writing plays in rhyme; some affirmed it was not to be done, others said it would spoil the fancy to be so confined, but Lord Orrery was of another opinion, and his Majesty being willing a trial should be made, commanded his Lordship to employ some of his leisure that way, which my Lord readily did, and upon that occasion composed the Black Prince” (Orrery’s State Letters, vol. i, p. 81). ↩
Austin Friars, Old Broad Street. At the dissolution of the monasteries the house and grounds of the Augustine Friars were bestowed on William Paulet, first Marquis of Winchester. In 1602 the necessities of William, fourth marquis, compelled him to sell his property to John Swinnerton, afterwards Lord Mayor. ↩
Captain (afterwards Sir Robert) Holmes’ expedition to attack the Dutch settlements in Africa eventuated in an important exploit. Holmes suddenly left the coast of Africa, sailed across the Atlantic, and reduced the Dutch settlement of New Netherlands to English rule, under the title of New York. “The short and true state of the matter is this: the country mentioned was part of the province of Virginia, and, as there is no settling an extensive country at once, a few Swedes crept in there, who surrendered the plantations they could not defend to the Dutch, who, having bought the charts and papers of one Hudson, a seaman, who, by the commission from the crown of England, discovered a river, to which he gave his name, conceited they had purchased a province. Sometimes, when we had strength in those parts, they were English subjects; at others, when that strength declined, they were subjects of the United Provinces. However, upon King Charles’s claim the States disowned the title, but resumed it during our confusions. On March 12th, 1663–64, Charles II granted it to the Duke of York … The King sent Holmes, when he returned, to the Tower, and did not discharge him; till he made it evidently appear that he had not infringed the law of nations.” (Campbell’s Naval History, vol. ii, p. 89). How little did the King or Holmes himself foresee the effects of the capture. —B. ↩
There were several houses in the neighbourhood of the Navy House with the sign of the Horseshoe; one was in St. Dunstan’s in the East and another on Great Tower Hill. ↩
“The picture usually placed before the king’s book, which Pepys says he saw ‘put up in Bishopsgate church,’ was not engraved for the Είκων Βασιλική, but relates to the frontispiece of the large folio Common Prayer Book of 1661, which consists of a sort of pattern altarpiece, which it was intended should generally be placed in the churches. The design is a sort of classical affair, derived in type from the ciborium of the ancient and continental churches; a composition of two Corinthian columns, engaged or disengaged, with a pediment. It occurs very frequently in the London churches, and may be occasionally remarked in country-town churches, especially those restored at the king’s coming in. Anyone who has ever seen the great Prayer Book of 1661, will at once recognize the allusion; and it is a well-known fact that the frontispiece was drawn and engraved for the purpose mentioned above.”
There is a token, “At the Mouth Tavern without Bishop Gate. R.K.S.” (Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, 1889, p. 540). ↩
This refers to the buildings erected by Lord Treasurer Southampton in what is now Bloomsbury Square. His mansion, afterwards known as Bedford House, occupied the whole north side of that square. ↩
The witty Sir Charles Sedley is frequently referred to by Pepys in the Diary. ↩
There does not appear to have been any play with this title. It evidently was the Parson’s Wedding, referred to October 11th. ↩
Henry Oldenburg was secretary of the Royal Society from 1663 to 1677. Mr. Herbert Rix, assistant-secretary to the Royal Society, has contributed to Nature, November 2nd, 1893 (vol. xlix, p. 9), an interesting account of Oldenburg. ↩
“There seems to be a curious fate reigning over the instruments which have the word ‘arch’ prefixed to their name. They have no vitality, and somehow or other come to grief. Even the famous archlute, which was still a living thing in the time of Handel, has now disappeared from the concert room and joined Mr. Pepys’s ‘Arched Viol’ in the limbo of things forgotten. … Mr. Pepys’s verdict that it would never do … has been fully confirmed by the event, as his predictions usually were, being indeed always founded on calm judgment and close observation.”
There is a token of the “Beare tavern in Cornhill, 1656. R.W.D.” (Boyne’s Trade Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 573). ↩
The church of Allhallows Barking, situated at the east end of Great Tower Street. ↩
“The duke had decided that the English fleet should consist of three squadrons to be commanded by himself, Prince Rupert, and Lord Sandwich, from which arrangement the two last, who were land admirals; had concluded that Penn would have no concern in this fleet. Neither the duke, Rupert, nor Sandwich had ever been engaged in an encounter of fleets. … Penn alone of the four was familiar with all these things. By the duke’s unexpected announcement that he should take Penn with him into his own ship, Rupert and Sandwich at once discovered that they would be really and practically under Penn’s command in everything.”
Granville Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, vol. ii, p. 295
Philip Herbert, who succeeded as fifth Earl of Pembroke in 1650. He died December 11th, 1669. ↩
A comedy written by Thomas Killigrew in Switzerland, published in 1663. It is included in Dodsley’s Old Plays, ed. Hazlitt, vol. xiv. ↩
Thomas Clifford, born at Ugbrooke, Devon, August 1st, 1630, and educated at Exeter College, Oxford. He attended Charles II in exile, and represented Totnes in the Convention Parliament and in that of 1661. He was knighted as a reward for the delivery of several speeches on behalf of the royal prerogative. After having distinguished himself at sea and acting as Envoy Extraordinary to the courts of Denmark and Sweden, he was, on November 8th, 1666, made Comptroller of the Household, and on December 5th he was sworn of the Privy Council. In 1672 he was made Secretary of State, on April 22nd created Baron Clifford, and in November raised to the post of Lord High Treasurer, which he held till June, 1673. Died September, 1673, in the forty-fourth year of his age. ↩
Colbert, in his desire to establish French colonies, wished to found one on the Mediterranean coast of Africa. For this purpose the Due de Beaufort, High Admiral of France, took possession, on July 22nd, 1664, of Gigeri, in the province of Bugia, and he placed a garrison there under the command of Lieutenant-General Guadagni. The duke had scarcely retired before the Moors attacked the place in great force, and with such success, that Guadagni thought himself happy in evacuating it with safety. He embarked on the night of the 29th October, abandoning his artillery and stores. The regiment of Picardy perished by shipwreck. —B. ↩
The Protector wished the Duke of Buckingham to marry his daughter Frances. She married, 1. Robert Rich, grandson and heir to Robert, Earl of Warwick, on November 11th, 1657, who died in the following February; 2. Sir John Russell, Bart. She died January 27th, 1721–22, aged eighty-four.
In T. Morrice’s life of Roger, Earl of Orrery, prefixed to Orrery’s State Letters (Dublin, 1743, vol. i, p. 40), there is a circumstantial account of an interview between Orrery (then Lord Broghill) and Cromwell, in which the former suggested to the latter that Charles II should marry Frances Cromwell. Cromwell gave great attention to the reasons urged, “but walking two or three turns, and pondering with himself, he told Lord Broghill the king would never forgive him the death of his father. His lordship desired him to employ somebody to sound the king in this matter, to see how he would take it, and offered himself to mediate in it for him. But Cromwell would not consent, but again repeated, ‘The king cannot and will not forgive the death of his father;’ and so he left his lordship, who durst not tell him he had already dealt with his majesty in that affair. Upon this my lord withdrew, and meeting Cromwell’s wife and daughter, they inquired how he had succeeded; of which having given them an account, he added they must try their interest in him, but none could prevail.” ↩
Samuel Sorbière published his Voyage to England at Paris in 1664, but a translation into English does not appear to have been published until 1709. The work created a great sensation, and Louis XIV showed his displeasure by a temporary banishment of the author. It is, however, entertaining, and can be read with advantage as a picture of the time. Sorbière died in 1670. It is not clear whether Sorbière invented or only repeated the story here related, which has been disposed of by the discovery of Charles I’s coffin in 1813; and, indeed, how any doubt upon this subject could have arisen, seems extraordinary, considering that several persons were present at the interment, and that we have Sir T. Herbert’s testimony as to the fact in his published Memoirs. See also Diary, February 26th, 1665–66, when Pepys was shown the place where the late king was buried in St. George’s Chapel, and Fuller’s Church History, book xi, p. 327. Sir Henry Halford published, in 1813, “An Account of what appeared on opening the Coffin of K. Charles I at Windsor,” which was reprinted in Essays and Orations, 1831, 1842. ↩
No clue to the meaning of the word ora in this position has been found. ↩
William Cecil, second Earl of Salisbury, K.G., who took the side of the Parliament during the Civil Wars. He died December 3rd, 1668, aged seventy-seven. See his character, “despicable to all men,” drawn by Lord Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, book vi, ed. Macray, 1888, vol. ii, p. 542. ↩
Sir John Colladon, M.D., of St. Martin’s in the Fields, see note 1937. ↩
Edward Griffin, of Braybrooke, in Northamptonshire, at this time Lieutenant-Colonel in the Duke of York’s Regiment of Foot Guards, now called the Coldstream; he was raised to the peerage in 1688 by the title of Lord Griffin, and followed the fortunes of his royal master after the Revolution, and was outlawed. Being taken prisoner in the attempted invasion of Scotland in 1708, he was committed to the Tower, and died there in confinement in November, 1710. He married Lady Essex Howard, eldest daughter, and one of the two co-heirs of James Howard, third Earl of Suffolk. Their grandson, Edward, third Lord Griffin, dying s.p.m., in 1742, the barony became extinct. —B. ↩
The Law of Charitable Uses: wherein the Statute of 43 Eliz. chap. 4, is set forth and explained. … London, 1660, by John Herhe. A second edition, “much enlarged,” was published in 1663. ↩
Mary Pepys’s husband is mentioned again on December 11th of this year, but his name is not given. She died in December, 1667. ↩
Daniel O’Neale, third husband of Lady Catherine Stanhope, created Countess of Chesterfield after her first husband’s death. “Mr. O’Neale, of the Bedchamber, died yesterday, very rich, and left his old lady all” (Ed. Savage to Dr. Sancroft, October 25th, 1664, Harl. MS. 3785, fol. 19). See note 1461, where the monumental inscription quoted must be incorrect as to date. It is impossible to verify this, as the Rev. Howard A. Watson, rector of Boughton Malherbe, informs the editor that the monument no longer exists in the church. It appears, from a description in Hasted’s Kent, that the monument was injudiciously placed within the altar rails, where it was found so inconvenient that it was removed in the last century to allow room for the service of the altar. The Countess of Chesterfield died in 1666 (see Letters of Philip, Second Earl of Chesterfield, p. 33). ↩
“The Royal Catharine, of eighty-two guns. It was observed, that just upon her launching there appeared a fair rainbow, once the sign of a covenant betwixt God and the world, that it should never perish by water and we hope it will prove as auspicious to this vessel.”
The News, October 27th, 1664
On this day there was a meeting of the Royal Society, but the “greatest part of the members were absent, being gone to Woolwich, together with the King and Council and most of the Court, to see the great ship St. Catharine launched” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. i, p. 477, note). ↩
Katharine Boynton, daughter of Matthew, second son to Sir Matthew Boynton, Bart., of Barnston, Yorkshire. She became the first wife of Richard Talbot, afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel. ↩
Mary, daughter of Thomas, third Lord Fairfax, born 1639; married to George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, September 6th, 1657. She has been described as “a most virtuous and pious lady in a vicious age and court.” Died 1705. ↩
Thomas Foley, afterwards of Witley Court. He was the grandfather of the first Lord Foley, and died October 1st, 1677, aged fifty-nine. His portrait is engraved in Nash’s History of Worcestershire. —B. ↩
Sir John Laurence, afterwards distinguished for his great benevolence during the period of the great plague. The king and queen were present at the banquet (The Intelligencer, October 31st, 1664). ↩
Perhaps we should read Sir Thomas Bridges, who was made a K.B. at the Restoration (Kennett’s Chronicle). —B. ↩
Reform, i.e. disband. See Memoirs of Sir John Reresby, September 2nd, 1651. “A great many younger brothers and reformed officers of the King’s army depended upon him for their meat and drink.” So reformado, a discharged or disbanded officer. —M. B. ↩
The Royal Charles was the Duke of York’s ship, and Sir William Penn, who hoisted his flag in the Royal James on November 8th, shifted to the Royal Charles on November 30th. The duke gave Penn the command of the fleet immediately under himself. On Penn’s monument he is styled “Great Captain Commander under His Royal Highness” (Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, vol. ii, p. 296). ↩
Captain John Taylor was appointed Commissioner for Harwich, March 23rd, 1664–65, and he held the office until 1668. Sir William Coventry, writing to Secretary Bennet (November 14th, 1664), refers to the objections made to Taylor, and adds:
“Thinks the King will not easily consent to his rejection, as he is a man of great abilities and dispatch, and was formerly laid aside at Chatham on the Duchess of Albemarle’s earnest interposition for another. He is a fanatic, it is true, but all hands will be needed for the work cut out; there is less danger of them in harbour than at sea, and profit will convert most of them.”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 68
Thomas Middleton, whose title of Colonel appears to be due to his having held office in the Parliamentary army. He was appointed Commissioner for Portsmouth, January 3rd, 1664–65, which office he held until 1667, when he became Surveyor of the Navy. He retired in 1672. ↩
This was Sir William Davenant’s alteration of Shakespeare’s play, which was described by Downes “as being in the nature of an opera.” Malone says that it was first acted in 1663. It was not printed until 1673. ↩
This was a Committee of the Privy Council appointed to superintend navy affairs. ↩
The warrant for a commission appointing John, Lord Berkeley of Stratton, Sir John Buncombe, and Thomas Chicheley to execute the office of Master of Ordnance, void by death of Sir William Compton, is dated October 24th, 1664 (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 41). Sir John Duncombe was the son of Sir Edward Buncombe of Battlesden. He was knighted by Charles I while the king was a prisoner at Carisbrooke Castle. He was M.P. for Bury St. Edmunds in the parliaments of 1660 and 1661, and was appointed a Commissioner of the Treasury in 1667. In 1672 he became, on the resignation of Ashley, Chancellor of the Exchequer. Burnet describes him as “a judicious man, but very haughty, and apt to raise enemies. He was an able Parliament man, but could not go into all the designs of the Court: for he had a sense of religion and a zeal for the liberty of his country” (Own Time, vol. i, p. 437, ed. 1833). ↩
Sir William Penn, writing to Coventry, November 16th, 1664, says that one hundred and six men were put on board the Henry. ↩
The Duke of Monmouth took the name of Scott in 1663 on his marriage to Lady Anne Scott, daughter and sole heir of Francis, Earl of Buccleuch. ↩
The publication of the romance of Cleopatra, by Gautier de Costes, Seigneur de la Calprenede, was commenced in 1646. Dunlop says of it: “The basis is historical, but few of the incidents are consistent with historical truth.” ↩
Arthur Annesley (1614–86) succeeded his father as second Viscount Valentia in November, 1660, and was created Baron Annesley and Earl of Anglesey in April, 1661. ↩
Pepys had “To be or not to be” set to music, and it will be found in his collection of Songs and Other Compositions (No. 2591), in the volume devoted to “Compositions, Grave.” ↩
The Elias frigate foundered one hundred and forty leagues from shore on the coast of New England. One hundred and twenty men were lost, and only twenty-one saved by the Martin. ↩
The Calendars of State Papers are full of references to applications for Commissionerships of the Prize Office. In December, 1664, the Navy Committee appointed themselves the Commissioners for Prize Goods, Sir Henry Bennet being appointed comptroller, and Lord Ashley treasurer. ↩
Sir George Lane was secretary to the Duke of Ormonde, and his name frequently appears in the Carte Papers. He was created Viscount Lanesborough in the peerage of Ireland in 1676. ↩
William, second Viscount Brouncker of Castlelyons in the peerage of Ireland, was appointed an extra Commissioner of the Navy on December 7th, 1664. ↩
See ante, note 2327, for Coventry’s opinion of the objection to Taylor. ↩
Captain Sir Thomas Teddiman (or Tyddiman) had been appointed Rear-Admiral of Lord Sandwich’s squadron of the English fleet. In a letter from Sir William Coventry to Secretary Bennet, dated November 13th, 1664, we read, “Rear Admiral Teddeman with four or five ships has gone to course in the Channel, and if he meet any refractory Dutchmen will teach them their duty” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 66). ↩
According to Clarendon the officer here alluded to was a major in Cromwell’s own regiment of horse, and employed by him to treat with Charles I whilst at Hampton Court; but being convinced of the insincerity of the proceeding, communicated his suspicions to that monarch, and immediately gave up his commission. We hear no more of Huntington till the Restoration, when his name occurs with those of many other officers, who tendered their services to the king. His reasons for laying down his commission are printed in Thurloe’s State Papers and Maseres’s Tracts. —B. ↩
Lord Annesly is an incorrect description of Arthur Annesley, first Earl of Anglesey, although in addition to his earldom he bore the title of Baron Annesley of Newport Paganel. ↩
On May 27th, 1666, Pepys refers to Mr. and Mrs. Norbury as his uncle and aunt. ↩
The word aunt may either refer to Mrs. Wight or to Mrs. Norbury. ↩
The William is frequently mentioned in the Calendar of State Papers, 1664–65. In November, 1664, Captain George Erwin was appointed commander of the ship. ↩
The French Protestant Church in Threadneedle Street (originally St. Anthony’s Hospital), burnt in the Great Fire. ↩
See ante, November 27th. Dr. Hueffer wrote (Italian and Other Studies), “Ravenscroft belonged to an earlier generation of musicians, and Mr. Pepys might well find his style a trifle monotonous compared with the Italian and French songs he was wont to listen to. But apart from this, and looking upon Ravenscroft in connection with the writers of his own time, the modest censure of the diarist will not be found without some show of reason. Thomas Ravenscroft was a theorist and a pedant of the deepest dye, as the very title of his absurd attempt at reviving obsolete practices of bygone days is sufficient to show. Here it is: A Briefe Discourse of the True (but neglected) use of charact’ring the Degrees by their perfection, imperfection, and diminution in measurable Music against the common practise and custome of these times; examples whereof are exprest in the Harmony of 4 voices concerning the Pleasure of 5 usuall recreations, 1 Hunting, 2 Hawking, 3 Dancing, 4 Drinking, 5 Enamouring, 1614.” ↩
The Duke of York’s Instructions for the Government of the Navy Office (see note 1323). ↩
William Caesar, musical composer and teacher of the lute, is frequently mentioned in the Diary. Some of his songs are found in different collections of the time under the name of William Caesar alias Smegergill. ↩
Charles Berkeley, created Baron Berkeley of Rathdown in 1661, Viscount Fitzharding of Bearhaven in 1663, and Earl of Falmouth in 1665. He was appointed Keeper of the Privy Purse to Charles II in October, 1662. ↩
Eldest son of the Earl of Clancarty and nephew of the Duke of Ormonde. He had served with distinction in Flanders, as colonel of an infantry regiment, and was killed on board the Duke of York’s ship in the sea-fight, 1665. Ormonde, writing to his mother to announce the sad news, says, “his death is a great loss to his friends and family, and is as generally lamented here (Whitehall) as anybody’s.” ↩
Because so many of the Irish were Roman Catholics. —B. ↩
This comet produced a large amount of literature. The eminent astronomer Mr. J. R. Hind, F.R.S., has a short anonymous article on it in Nature, February 7th, 1884, p. 345. ↩
Jonson’s Catiline was not revived until December 19th, 166S, when it was acted by the King’s Company. Hart took the character of Catiline; Mohun, Cathegus; and Burt, Cicero. Mrs. Corey was Sempronia. ↩
John Mordaunt, second son of John, first Earl of Peterborough, born June 18th, 1626; created Baron Mordaunt of Reigate and Viscount Mordaunt of Avalon, July 10th, 1659. Died June 5th, 1675. ↩
Sir Theophilus Biddulph, of Westcombe, Kent, who had been previously knighted, was made a baronet, November 2nd, 1664. He was then serving in parliament for Lichfield. —B. ↩
Pepys was wrong as to the name of Sir William Petty’s new doublekeeled boat. On February 13th, 1664–65, he gives the correct title, which was The Experiment. ↩
Sir George Downing wrote to Lord Chancellor Clarendon from the Hague on the 29th December, “I need not tell your Lordshipp what a noise the business of De Ruyter’s success in Guinea hath made here, and how much it hath putt life into ye com̃on people; on the other hand, those that looke higher and nearer into business say that this doth justifie, beyond all dispute, what his Majestie hath done here in ye Channell” (Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii, p. 358). ↩
It is one of the twenty-four comets of which the observations have been collected in Halley’s Astronomiæ Cometicæ Synopsis. —B. ↩
St. Dionis Backchurch. The rector in 1664 was John Castilion, D.D., afterwards Bishop of Exeter. The preacher may have been Richard Meggot, D.D., who was appointed Canon of Windsor in 1677 and Dean of Winchester in 1679. He died December 7th, 1692, and was buried in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. ↩
The word “mort” must have been in some instances added long after the entry was first made. —B. ↩
To this name is affixed in shorthand the following note: “Went to reside in Magd. Coll. Camb. and did put on my gown first, March 5, 1650–51.” —B. ↩
The first of these charms is written in longhand, but the remainder are in shorthand. ↩
There can be no reasonable cause for doubting this to refer to the famous song, “To all you ladies now at land,” written by Lord Buckhurst (afterwards Earl of Dorset), and the reference has therefore a very distinct literary value, because it proves that the song was not “made the night before the engagement” of June 3rd, 1665, an opinion which was universally held until this passage was printed. There is nothing in the song itself to indicate any particular time when it was written, and it appears that the first to fix the exact period was Prior the poet (who was born in 1664). In the dedication of his poems to Lionel, Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, Prior states that the earl’s father wrote the celebrated sea song “the night before the engagement with the Dutch in 1665.” Dr. Johnson, in his Lives of the Poets, says, “seldom any splendid story is wholly true,” and adds that Lord Orrery told him that Lord Buckhurst had been a week employed upon it, and only retouched or finished it on the memorable evening. Lord Braybrooke was criticised for supposing that Pepys referred to Buckhurst’s song, and therefore he entered fully into his own defence, summing up as follows: “In the absence of certain evidence, we cannot decide upon the fact; but all accounts agree in representing Buckhurst as having served as a volunteer under the Duke of York, whose first cruise took place in November, 1664. Perhaps, then, the ballad was written at this time, when an action between the two fleets was only delayed by the Dutch retiring to port. Thus Pepys might well have seen the song in January, 1664–65; and it still may have been retouched, and brought out with èclat during the excitement consequent upon the victory of June 3rd following. Nor is it, indeed, easy to imagine that anyone ever wrote a ballad when about to take part in a great naval conflict or that, if two songs had been contemporaneously composed on the same subject, with titles so nearly identical, one only should be known to exist.” The song became popular immediately, and has never lost its popularity. An immense number of imitations have appeared, and reference to some of these is made by the Rev. J. W. Ebsworth in his valuable edition of the Bagford Ballads (p. 615). ↩
Micrographia: Or Some Physiological Descriptions of Minute Bodies Made by Magnifying Glasses, London, 1665, a very remarkable work with elaborate plates, some of which have been used for lecture illustrations almost to our own day. On November 23rd, 1664, the President of the Royal Society was “desired to sign a licence for printing of Mr. Hooke’s microscopical book.” At this time the book was mostly printed, but it was delayed, much to Hooke’s disgust, by the examination of several Fellows of the Society. In spite of this examination the council were anxious that the author should make it clear that he alone was responsible for any theory put forward, and they gave him notice to that effect. Hooke made this clear in his dedication (see Birch’s History, vol. i, pp. 490–491) ↩
Sir Philip Warwick lived in the Outer Spring Garden, and the site of his house is marked by Warwick Street, Cockspur Street. Warwick House was the residence of the Princess Charlotte of Wales at the beginning of the present century. ↩
Aubrey, Earl of Oxford, was Warden and Chief Justice in Eyre of the Royal Forests, Parks, Chases, and Warrens, South of Trent, from 1660 to 1673. He was then living in the Piazza, Covent Garden. ↩
The Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub, a comedy by Sir George Etherege; licensed for printing, July 8th, 1664, but not published till 1669. It was acted by the Duke’s Company, and the Bettertons and Harris were in it. ↩
Joseph Beaumont, D.D., Prebendary of Ely, 1651, but not installed until 1660; Master of Jesus College, Cambridge, 1662–63, and of Peterhouse, 1663–1699, Regius Professor of Divinity, Cambridge, 1674. He died November 23rd, 1699. ↩
The Charter-book of the Royal Society, which contains the signatures of the Fellows of the Society from the foundation, is a volume of the greatest interest. At the meeting on January 11th, 1664–65, “The Charter-book of the Society was produced, wherein his Majesty, on the 9th of January, had written himself Charles R., Founder, and his Highness the Duke of York, James, Fellow; the Duke of Albemarle also having entered his name at the same time. The President was desired to kiss his Majesty’s hand for this honour” (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 4). ↩
For taking New York from the Dutch, see note 2286. ↩
John Belasyse, second son of Thomas, first Viscount Fauconberg, created Baron Belasyse of Worlaby, January 27th, 1644, Lord Lieutenant of the East Riding of Yorkshire, and Governor of Hull. He was appointed Governor of Tangier, and Captain of the Band of Gentlemen Pensioners. He was a Roman Catholic, and therefore was deprived of all his appointments in 1672 by the provisions of the Test Act, but in 1684 James II made him First Commissioner of the Treasury. He died 1689. ↩
Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and a Privy Councillor. Died 1671. —B. ↩
These consultations must have been extra-official, as they are not mentioned in Birch’s History of the Royal Society. The spelling of the name Brouncker appears to have offered great difficulty to Pepys, for he sometimes writes it Brunker and sometimes Brunkard. ↩
See entry on January 14th, where the names of the ships are given as Phoenix and Nonsuch. The Phoenix was a fourth-rate, of thirty-eight guns, built at Woolwich in 1647 by Peter Pett, Jun. ↩
A tragedy by Shirley, licensed May 4th, 1631, and published 1635. Genest does not mention the acting of this play till 1692. ↩
Ben Jonson’s comedy, Volpone, or the Fox, published 1605. ↩
Rushworth’s Historical Collections of Private Passages in State, etc., first appeared in 1659. Rushworth was born 1607, and died 1690 The reference is to the duke’s expedition to the Isle of Rhé. ↩
Among the State Papers is a letter from Captain Thomas Allin to Sir Richard Fanshaw, dated from “The Plymouth, Cadiz Bay,” December 25th, 1664, in which he writes: “On the 19th attacked with his seven ships left, a Dutch fleet of fourteen, three of which were men-of-war; sunk two vessels and took two others, one a rich prize from Smyrna; the others retired much battered. Has also taken a Dutch prize laden with iron and planks, coming from Lisbon (Calendar, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 122). ↩
Lord Ashley lived for several years at Exeter House (on the north side of the Strand), on the site of the present Burleigh and Exeter Streets. ↩
This word is blotted, and the whole sentence is confused. ↩
Thomas Hill married in the following year, and on July 14th, 1666, Pepys refers to the “young wife, and a blithe young woman she is.” ↩
Captain Robert Mohun, who eminently distinguished himself in the Dutch war, 1666. ↩
This statement of a total prohibition of all trade, and for so long a period as eighteen months, by a government so essentially commercial as that of the United Provinces, seems extraordinary. The fact was, that when in the beginning of the year 1665 the States General saw that the war with England was become inevitable, they took several vigorous measures, and determined to equip a formidable fleet, and with a view to obtain a sufficient number of men to man it, prohibited all navigation, especially in the great and small fisheries as they were then called, and in the whale fishery. This measure appears to have resembled the embargoes so commonly resorted to in this country on similar occasions, rather than a total prohibition of trade. —B. ↩
Kept in commemoration of the martyrdom of Charles I. ↩
James Houblon, an eminent London merchant, remarkable for his piety and plainness. Two of his sons rose to great wealth, and became knights and aldermen. Sir James Houblon served in parliament for his native city. Sir John was Lord Mayor in 1695, and at the same time a Lord of the Admiralty and Governor of the Bank. The best account of the father is to be found in the subjoined epitaph, said to be written by Pepys.
Jacobus Houblon,
Londinas Petri filius,
Ob fidem Flandriâ exulantis:
Ex C. Nepotibus habuit LXX superstites:
Filios V. videns mercatores florentissimos:
Ipse Londinensis Bursæ Pater
Piissimè obiit Nonagenarius,
AD MDCLXXXIL
The masquerade at Court took place on the 2nd, and is referred to by Evelyn, who was present, in his Diary. Some amusing incidents connected with the entertainment are related in the Grammont Memoirs (chapter vii). ↩
Richard Butler, second surviving son of James, Duke of Ormond, born July 15th, 1639. He was created Earl of Arran in Ireland in 1662, when his father was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and Baron Butler of Weston in the peerage of England in 1673. He died January 25th, 1685–86, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Louis de Duras, Marquis de Blanquefort in France, born 1638, naturalized in England, October, 1665, in which year he was a volunteer with the English fleet. Created Baron Duras of Holdenby, January, 1672–73; and succeeded his father-in-law, George Sondes, as Earl of Feversham, in 1677; K.G., July 30th, 1685; Master of St. Catherine’s Hospital, 1698; and died April 19th, 1709. ↩
Sir Richard Willis, the betrayer of the Royalists, was one of the “Sealed Knot.” When the Restoration had become a certainty, he wrote to Clarendon imploring him to intercede for him with the king (see Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii, p. 87). ↩
On May 10th, 1665, Symond Emison wrote to the Navy Commissioners, sending a list of twelve men on board the Kingfisher at Harwich (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 359). ↩
Thomas Barlow, Pepys’s predecessor as Clerk of the Acts, to whom he paid part of the salary. Barlow held the office jointly with Dennis Fleming. ↩
The Court and Character of King James, Written and Taken by Sir Anthony Weldon, Being an Eye and Ear Witness, was published in 1650, and reprinted in 1651 under the title of Truth Brought to Light. Weldon’s book was answered in a work entitled Aulicus Coquinariæ. Both the original book and the answer were reprinted in The Secret History of the Court of King James, Edinburgh, 1811, two vols. (edited by Sir Walter Scott). ↩
The Divine Catastrophe of the Kingly Family of the House of Stuarts; or a Short History of the Rise, Reign and Ruin Thereof. By Sir Edward Peyton. London, 1652. Reprinted in The Secret History of the Court of King James, 1811. ↩
St. Lawrence Jewry. Dr. John Wilkins was vicar from 1662 to 1668, when he was appointed Bishop of Chester. He died November 19th, 1672, in Chancery Lane, and was buried, December 12th, in the church of St. Lawrence, under the north wall of the chancel. At this time the great Tillotson was lecturer at this church. Bishop Wilkins died at the house of Tillotson, who married his stepdaughter. ↩
Stoving, in sail-making, is the heating of the bolt-ropes, so as to make them pliable. —B. ↩
Richard Penn, second son to Sir William Penn, who died in April, 1673, and was buried at Walthamstow. ↩
For relation of the loss of the Royal Oak, see Rawlinson MSS., A. 195, fol. 180 (Bodleian Library). —B. ↩
According to the minutes of the Royal Society for February 15th, 1664–65, “Mr. Pepys was unanimously elected and admitted.” Notes of the experiments shown by Hooke and Boyle are given in Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 15. ↩
Sir Paul Neile, of White Waltham, Berks, eldest son to Richard Neile, Archbishop of York (see note 959). ↩
Sir Robert Moray, one of the founders of the Royal Society, and President before the charter was obtained. He was made a Privy Councillor for Scotland after the Restoration. ↩
Daniel Whistler, Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, took the degree of M.D. at Leyden, 1645; and after practising in London, went as physician to the embassy, with Bulstrode Whitlock, into Sweden. On his return he became Fellow, and at length President, of the College of Physicians. He was Professor of Geometry at Gresham College, 1648–57, and died May 11th, 1684. ↩
Jonathan Goddard, M.D., F.R.S., born at Greenwich about 1617. He had been physician to Cromwell, who appointed him one of the Council of State. Professor of Physic at Gresham College, 1655. Member of the first Council of the Royal Society. Died March 24th, 1674–75. ↩
Dr. Robert Hooke, Professor of Geometry at Gresham College, and Curator of the Experiments to the Royal Society, of which he was one of the earliest and most distinguished members. He died March 3rd, 1702–3. ↩
Sir Thomas Harvey was appointed Extra Commissioner of the Navy in January, 1664–65, and succeeded Lord Berkeley. ↩
Apparently the wife of Christopher Battars, gunner of the Santa Maria. ↩
“. The Lord Chancellor’s House, called ‘Clarendon House,’ is now almost finished. The chapel is quite completed, and was consecrated, when His Honour gave a rich Bible, the cover of which was of silver, and the Book of Common Prayer with the same covering, together with bowls and other vessels for the Sacrament, to the value of £1,000. A Sermon was preached that day by a Bishop.”
Clarendon House was situated where Albemarle Street now stands on the west side was Berkeley House, where Devonshire House now is. The house on the east side, said to have been built by Sir J. Denham, was Burlington House. These three houses were the first buildings in this part of Piccadilly. ↩
Or hammock-battens: cleats or battens nailed to the sides of a vessel’s beams, from which to suspend the seamen’s hammocks. ↩
Paymaster John Fenn, with whom Pepys was afterwards so familiar as to call him Jack. ↩
Frances Jenyns, eldest daughter of Richard Jenyns, of Holywell House, St. Alban’s, born in 1648, maid of honour to Anne, Duchess of York, married 1st, George Hamilton, second son of Sir George Hamilton and brother of Count Hamilton (author of the Memoirs of Grammont) he was killed in battle, June, 1676; and 2ndly, Colonel Richard Talbot created Earl of Tyrconnel in 1685. In 1689 the unacknowledged dukedom of Tyrconnel was conferred on him. He died August 14th, 1691. She died at Dublin, March 6th, 1730–31. ↩
This adventure is related in the Grammont Memoirs, chap. x. ↩
Philip Carteret was elected a Fellow at this meeting. Hooke and Boyle exhibited several experiments. ↩
Similar reports of the cruelty of the English to the Dutch in Guinea were credited in Holland, and were related by Downing in a letter to Clarendon from the Hague, dated April 14th, 1665 (Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii, p. 374). ↩
Hooke’s lecture was probably delivered by him as Professor at Gresham College. Mr. J. R. Hind, F.R.S., writes (Nature, February 7th, 1884, p. 345): “We do not remember to have met with other reference to this opinion of Hooke’s, though probably such must exist, and it is not easy to explain upon what grounds he founded the idea. … The comet referred to was the third of 1618. It was observed by Harriot at Sion House, Isleworth.” At the meeting of the Royal Society, a letter from Huyghens was read, in which that philosopher referred to “his agreement with Dr. Wren about the place of the comet.” In reference to this it was resolved, “That Mr. Hooke should extract out of his lecture a discourse upon the late comet, and fit it for the press” (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 19). ↩
Philip Carteret and Sir Nicholas Slaning, K.B., who married a daughter of Sir George Carteret. ↩
At the meeting of the Royal Society on March 1st, “Mr. Evelyn’s paper, intitled Panificium; or the several manners of making bread in France, etc., where by general consent the best bread is eaten, was read, and ordered to be registered” (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 19). ↩
In a letter to Secretary Bennet, dated March 9th, reference is made of “a rumour in the City that the aldermen and several companies will build the king a ship to be called the London” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 247). ↩
Holmes’s imprisonment in the Tower is mentioned by Pepys on January 9th, 1664–65, and see note 2286. ↩
“The experiment of trying to poison a dog with some of the Macassar powder in which a needle had been dipped was made, but without success.” Pepys himself made a communication at this meeting of the information he had received from the master of the Jersey ship, who had been in company of Major Holmes in the Guinea voyage, concerning the pendulum watches (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 23). ↩
John Harris, who supplied sails to the Navy Office. His contracts are referred to in the Calendars of State Papers. ↩
Henry Brouncker, younger brother of William, Viscount Brouncker, President of the Royal Society. He was Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, and succeeded to the office of Cofferer on the death of William Ashburnham in 1671. His character was bad, and his conduct in the sea-fight of 1665 was impugned. He was expelled from the House of Commons, but succeeded to his brother’s title in 1684. He died in January, 1687. ↩
Daughter of William, Duke of Hamilton, wife of Lord Carnegy, who became Earl of Southesk on his father’s death. She is frequently mentioned in the Mémoires de Grammont, and in the letters of the second Earl of Chesterfield. —B. ↩
The practice of striking tallies at the Exchequer was a curious survival of an ancient method of keeping accounts. The method adopted is described in Hubert Hall’s Antiquities and Curiosities of the Exchequer, 1891. The following account of the use of tallies, so frequently alluded to in the Diary, was supplied by Lord Braybrooke. Formerly accounts were kept, and large sums of money paid and received, by the King’s Exchequer, with little other form than the exchange or delivery of tallies, pieces of wood notched or scored, corresponding blocks being kept by the parties to the account; and from this usage one of the head officers of the Exchequer was called the tallier, or teller. These tallies were often negotiable; Adam Smith, in his Wealth of Nations, book ii, ch. xi, says that “in 1696 tallies had been at forty, and fifty, and sixty percent discount, and banknotes at twenty percent.” The system of tallies was discontinued in 1824; and the destruction of the old Houses of Parliament, in the night of October 16th, 1834, is thought to have been occasioned by the overheating of the flues, when the furnaces were employed to consume the tallies rendered useless by the alteration in the mode of keeping the Exchequer accounts. ↩
John Burrowes, Navy slopseller to the Navy Commissioners. ↩
A copy of Sir William Petty’s will, dated 1685, is in the British Museum (Add. MSS., No. 15,858, fol. 109). —B. ↩
Mary Ducane, wife of James Houblon. They were married November 11th, 1620, and had twelve children. —B. ↩
“Two experiments were made for the finding out a way to breathe under water, useful for divers.” The first was on a bird and the second on “a kitling” (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 25). ↩
Jane, daughter to Sir Robert Needham, is frequently mentioned in the Grammont Memoirs, and Evelyn calls her “that famous and indeed incomparable beauty” (Diary, August 2nd, 1683). Her portrait is in the Royal Collection amongst the beauties of Charles II’s Court. Sir Robert Needham was related to John Evelyn. ↩
Edmund Waller, born March 3rd, 1605, died October 21st, 1687. ↩
Clement Spelman, son of Sir Henry Spelman the antiquary. He was appointed Cursitor Baron of the Exchequer in 1663, and occupied the office till March, 1679. He died in the following June. ↩
In a letter of March 22nd, 1664–65, from the Duke of York to the Duke of Albemarle, on the power he assigns to him in his absence, printed in Memoirs of Naval Affairs, etc., 8vo, 1729, p. 51. On the 23rd the Duke of York assumed the command of the fleet against the Dutch. —B. ↩
This was probably the Reports from 14 Elizabeth to 13 James I of Sir Edward Coke, and not his Institutes of the Laws of England. ↩
Sir Charles Berkeley, Viscount Fitzharding (1663), and Earl of Falmouth (1665), killed in the sea-fight, June, 1665. ↩
This rumour was probably unfounded, as her son George Fitzroy (created Duke of Northumberland, 1683) was born December 28th of this year. ↩
Now first acted. Betterton took the character of Suleiman the Magnificent, and Mrs. Betterton, Roxelana. There was an earlier tragedy of this name, by Fulk Greville, Lord Brooke. ↩
John Tooker, messenger to the Navy Commissioners. ↩
The French ambassadors were Henri de Bourbon, Duc de Verneuil, natural son of Henry IV and brother of Henrietta Maria, and M. de Courtin. —B. ↩
St. Gabriel’s Fenchurch, “in the midst of Fenchurch Street,” opposite Cullum Street. The ground on which it stood was laid into the highway or street. The church was destroyed in the Great Fire, and was not rebuilt. ↩
Sir Edward Dering, of Surrenden Bering, Kent, which county he represented frequently in parliament. He was the second baronet of his family, and some time one of the Lords of the Treasury. He died in 1684. —B. ↩
George Waterman, Sheriff of London, afterwards knighted, and Lord Mayor, 1672. —B. ↩
Rear-Admiral Sir Thomas Tyddiman was attached to Lord Sandwich’s squadron. This report turned out to be a canard. He died in 1668. ↩
Edward Stillingfleet. He was then Preacher of the Rolls Chapel, and was this year presented to the rectory of St. Andrew’s, Holborn; Dean of St. Paul’s, 1678; Bishop of Worcester, 1689. He died of the gout, March 27th, 1699. ↩
This is the celebrated “Charta Eadgari R. de Oswaldeslawe,” dat. Gloucester, December 28th, 964, mentioning not only the dominion of the sea, but also that Edgar had subdued the greatest part of Ireland, a piece of history which rests solely on the authority of this instrument. It is cited by Coke, Selden, Ussher, Dugdale, and Spelman, not to mention inferior names. Three copies existed; the finest and most complete, and probably the same which is here mentioned by Taylor, is now in the Harleian Collection in the British Museum. It is fully described in the Dissertatio Epistolaris (p. 86), prefixed by Hickes to his Thesaurus Linguarum Septentrionalium, and an engraved facsimile of the whole is given by him at the end. It is right to say that the charter is now generally considered to be a forgery executed in later times. —B. ↩
Evertsen. There were two admirals of this name, John and Cornelius. ↩
Captain John Golding and nine of his men were killed. ↩
A comedy, on the authority of Downes (p. 26) attributed to a Mr. Holden, and probably never printed. —B. ↩
John, Lord Robartes, Lord Privy Seal, 1661–73; created Earl of Radnor, 1679. Died July 17th, 1685. ↩
Sara Bodville, wife of Robert Robartes. See note 2152. ↩
“Sir Robert Moray presented the Society from the King with a phial of Florentine poison sent for by his Majesty from Florence, on purpose to have those experiments related of the efficacy thereof, tried by the Society.” The poison had little effect upon the kitten (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 31). ↩
Dr. Hueffer wrote respecting this passage:
“If one may at this day decide such a question it would appear that Mr. Pepys had decidedly the best of the argument. We all know that the courante is a lively dance in 3:4 or 3:2 time, beginning with a short note at the end of the bar, and expressing, as Mattheson, writing a good many years after Pepys, discovered, ‘sweet hope, and in fact a combination of confidence, desire, and joy.’ But neither the Italian corrente of Corelli, nor yet the French courante as developed by Couperin and the great Bach, seems to bear out the law laid down by Captain Taylor.”
Among the State Papers are lists of watermen impressed and put on board the victualling ships. Attached to one of these is a “note of their unfitness and refractory conduct; also that many go ashore to sleep, and are discontent that they, as masters of families, are pressed, while single men are excused on giving money to the pressmen” (Calendar, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 323). ↩
At Wricklesmarsh, in the parish of Charlton, which belonged in 1617 to Edward Blount, whose family alienated it towards the end of the seventeenth century. The old mansion was pulled down by Sir Gregory Page, Bart., who erected a magnificent stone structure on the site; which, devolving to his great-nephew, Sir Gregory Page Turner, shared the same fate as the former house, having been sold in lots in 1784. The site of Colonel Blount’s house is now covered with villas, and is called Blackheath Park. —B.
“Col. Blount produced another model of a chariot with four springs, esteemed by him very easy both to the rider and horse, and at the same time cheap. It was ordered that the committee formerly appointed, viz., the President, Sir Robert Moray, Sir William Petty, Dr. Wilkins, Col. Blount, and Mr. Hooke, should be desired to meet at Col. Blount’s house at Writlemarsh, about this matter, on the Monday following, and give an account of what they had done there at the next meeting of the Society.” On May 3rd Hooke reported (Birch’s History, vol. ii, pp. 41, 45). ↩
Sayes Court, the well-known residence of John Evelyn. ↩
“Mr. Daniel Coxe read an account of the effects of tobacco-oil distilled in a retort, by one drop of which given at the mouth he had killed a lusty cat, which being opened, smelled strongly of the oil, and the blood of the heart more strongly than the rest. … One drop of the Florentine oglio di tobacco being again given to a dog, it proved stupefying and vomitive, as before.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, pp. 42, 43
Sir Robert Hyde, cousin of the Earl of Clarendon, appointed Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, October 10th, 1663. Born 1595, died May 1st, 1665. He was buried in Salisbury Cathedral. ↩
Christopher Pett wrote to Pepys from Woolwich on April 22nd, 1665, and begged for “allowance for two divers employed when the estimate for the mast dock at Blackwall was made” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 324). ↩
Alexander Browne, a printseller, who taught drawing, and practised it with success. He published in 1669, Ars Pictoria, or an Academy treating of Drawing, Painting, Limning and Etching. ↩
Captain Edward Nixon, of the Elizabeth, and Captain John Stanesby, of the Eagle. John Lanyon wrote to the Navy Commissioners from Plymouth, May 16th:
“Understands from the seamen that the conduct of Captains Nixon and Stanesby in their late engagement with two Dutch capers was very foul; the night they left the Dutch, no lights were put out as formerly, and though in sight of them in the morning, they still kept on their way; the Eagle lay by some time, and both the enemy’s ships plied on her, but finding the Elizabeth nearly out of sight she also made sail; it is true the wind and sea were high, but there were no sufficient reasons for such endeavours to get from them.”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 367
Both captains were tried; Nixon was condemned to be shot but Stanesby was cleared, and Charnock asserts that he was commander of the Happy Return in 1672. ↩
Nicholas Hurleston, Master of the Trinity House. He died in November of this year. ↩
Sir Arthur Ingram, knight, of Knottingley, Surveyor of the Customs at Hull. He lived in Fenchurch Street, and was a liberal benefactor to the parish of St. Dionis Backchurch after the Great Fire. The site of his mansion is marked by Ingram Court. ↩
The new style was adopted by most of the countries of Europe long before it was legalized in England, although Russia still retains the old style. See note 47. ↩
A list of the Dutch fleet, May 23rd, 1665, is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, vol. ii, p. 318, from which Pepys’s lists of the commanders of the seven squadrons can be corrected. The first squadron was under Jacob van Wassenaer, Baron d’Opdam, Great Admiral of Holland and West Frieseland; the second under Lieut.-Admiral John Evertsen; the third under Lieut.-Admiral Egbert Meeuswisz Cortenaer (who died of his wounds after the sea-fight of June 3rd); the fourth under Lieut.-Admiral Stellingwerf; the fifth under Vice-Admiral Cornelius Tromp (son of the great Martin H. Tromp); the sixth under Vice-Admiral Cornelius Evertsen, and the seventh under Vice-Admiral Wouter Schram. ↩
For note on Pepys’s quotation from Epictetus, see note 1534. ↩
John Wilmot, second Earl of Rochester, celebrated for his wit and notorious for his profligacy. Born April 10th, 1648; died July 26th, 1680. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of John Malet, of Enmere, co. Somerset; married to the Earl of Rochester in 1667. ↩
Sir Francis Hawley of Euckland House, co. Somerset, created a baronet, 1642, and in 1646 an Irish peer, by the title of Baron Hawley of Donamore; in 1671 he was chosen M.P. for St. Michael’s, and in 1673 became a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York. He died 1684, aged seventy-six. His daughter Elizabeth was Elizabeth Malet’s mother. ↩
On May 29th Sir William Coventry wrote to Lord Arlington: “Capt. Langhorne has arrived with seven ships, and reports the taking of the Hamburg fleet with the man of war their convoy; mistaking the Dutch fleet for the English, he fell into it” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 393) ↩
Thomas Vyner, born 1588, Sheriff of London, 1648. When Lord Mayor, in 1654, he was knighted by Cromwell (Ludlow’s Memoirs), and created a baronet at the Restoration, 1660. He was a goldsmith, and dying May 11th, 1665, was buried in St. Mary Woolnoth, in Lombard Street. ↩
Cade’s tavern was “The Three Golden Lions” in Cornhill. The ground floor was apparently occupied by a bookseller’s shop (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, 1889, vol. i, p. 372). ↩
Sir William Coventry and Sir William Penn to the Navy Commissioners, June 4th: “Engaged yesterday with the Dutch; they began to stand away at 3 p.m. Chased them all the rest of the day and night; 20 considerable ships are destroyed and taken; we have only lost the Great Charity. The Earl of Marlborough, Rear-Admiral Sansum, and Captain Kirby are slain, and Sir John Lawson wounded” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 406). ↩
Sir Henry Felton, of Playford, Suffolk, Bart., who married Susanne, daughter of Sir Lionel Talmash, of Helmingham, Bart. Their second son, Sir Thomas Felton, married Lady Elizabeth Howard, daughter and co-heir of James, Lord Howard de Walden, and third Earl of Suffolk. —B. ↩
Although the two Mays are so frequently mentioned in these pages, and by almost every contemporary annalist, no authentic account of their parentage has been traced; nor is it clear whether they were brothers, or in any way related. There is, however, a strong presumption that they sprung from a family of the same name, seated at Rawmere, in Sussex, one of whom, Jeffrey May, acquired property at Sutton Cheynell, in Leicestershire, in 1574, which was sold by the representatives of Baptist May, in 1712, under an Act passed for the payment of his debts. But though Nichols (History of Leicestershire, vol. iv, pt. ii, p. 548) gives a detailed pedigree of the Mays, he could not ascertain whose son Baptist May was, who held the office of Privy Purse to Charles I; and he does not even allude to Hugh May. It is stated in Collins’s Peerage, vol. ii, p. 560, ed. 1741, that during their flight after the battle of Worcester, James, Duke of York, delivered his George, which had been a present from the queen his mother, to Mr. Hugh May, who preserved it through all difficulties, and afterwards returned it to his royal highness in Holland. Soon after 1662 Hugh May was established as an architect, and employed at Windsor, and in erecting stables at Cornbury, and in building Berkeley House, Piccadilly, and Cassiobury (Evelyn’s Diary). He also held a place under Sir John Denham, the Surveyor of the Works, whom he expected to succeed; but the office becoming vacant, by the knight’s death in 1667, was given to Sir Christopher Wren, and May was promised an annuity of £300 out of the Works, to make up for his disappointment. Whatever may have been his professional merits, he is not even named in Horace Walpole’s list of architects; and we know nothing more of his career, except that in 1683 he was busy in building a house at Chiswick for Sir Stephen Fox. Baptist May’s history is soon told: He was born about 1627, and after the Restoration belonged to the Duke of York’s household; but he was promoted by the king to the office of Keeper of the Privy Purse, and became the confidant of Charles’s amours. He was also made a Page of the Bedchamber, which place he lost, having contrived to offend his royal master. In 1689–90 we find him returned at the general election as burgess for Windsor, with Sir Christopher Wren; they were, however, both unseated by petition. Baptist died May 2nd, 1693, and lies buried in St. George’s Chapel, where the slab inscribed to his memory is still to be seen. —B.
Baptist May has been supposed to be the son of Humphry May, who in early life was Vice-Chamberlain to James I. ↩
Sir William Clarke acted as secretary to the Duke of Albemarle. There are several of his letters among the State Papers, which are dated from the Cockpit, Whitehall. He lost his leg in the fight with the Dutch in June, 1666, and died two days after. ↩
See Sir John Denham’s Advice to a Painter concerning the Dutch war in Poems on State Affairs, vol. i, p. 24. —B. ↩
The Earl of Falmouth is better known as Lord FitzHarding. The Duke of Ormonde’s letters to his mother (Lady Thurles) and his sister (the Countess of Clancarty), on the death of Lord Muskerry, are printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, pp. 338, 339. Richard Boyle was the second son of the Earl of Burlington, and had been Member for Cork in 1661. Clarendon wrote of him: “He was a youth of great hope, who came newly home from travel, where he had spent his time with singular advantage, and took the first opportunity to lose his life in the king’s service. There were many other gentlemen volunteers in the same ship, who had the same fate.” ↩
James Ley, Earl of Marlborough, was captain of the Old James. A letter from him to his friend, Sir Hugh Pollard, written about five weeks before the battle, is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn (vol. ii, p. 340). Charles Weston, third Earl of Portland, was a volunteer on board Lord Marlborough’s ship. Robert Sansum, commander of the Resolution, was Rear-Admiral of the White. He was captain of the Portsmouth in the fleet at Scheveling attending Charles II on his return to England. Robert Kirby was captain of the Breda. James Ableson was captain of the Guinea. ↩
When Opdam’s ship blew up, a shot from it mortally wounded Sir John Lawson, which is thus alluded to in the Poems on State Affairs, vol. i, p. 28:
“Destiny allowed Him his revenge, to make his death more proud. A fatal bullet from his side did range, And battered Lawson; oh, too dear exchange! He led our fleet that day too short a space, But lost his knee: since died, in glorious race: Lawson, whose valour beyond Fate did go, And still fights Opdam in the lake below.”
In the same poem, Lord Falmouth’s death is thus noticed:
“Falmouth was there, I know not what to act; Some say ’twas to grow Duke, too, by contract. An untaught bullet, in its wanton scope, Dashes him all to pieces, and his Hope. Such was his rise, such was his fall, unpraised; A chance-shot sooner took him than chance raised: His shattered head the fearless Duke distains, And gave the last first proof that he had brains.”
Afterwards Sir Joseph Jordan, commander of the Royal Sovereign, and Vice-Admiral of the Red, 1672. He was knighted on July 1st, 1665. —B. ↩
Captain Sebastian Senten, of the Orange, was attached to the second squadron of the Dutch fleet (see Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 318). ↩
In the royal charter granted by Charles II in 1680 to William Penn for the government of his American province, to be styled Pennsylvania, special reference is made to “the memory and merits of Sir William Penn in divers services, and particularly his conduct, courage, and discretion under our dearest brother, James, Duke of York, in that signal battle and victory fought and obtained against the Dutch fleet commanded by Heer van Opdam in 1665” (Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 359). ↩
Mrs. Ady (Julia Cartwright), in her fascinating life of Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, gives an account of the receipt of the news of the great sea-fight in Paris, and quotes a letter of Charles II to his sister, dated, “Whitehall, June 8th, 1665” The first report that reached Paris was that “the Duke of York’s ship had been blown up, and he himself had been drowned.” “The shock was too much for Madame … she was seized with convulsions, and became so dangerously ill that Lord Hollis wrote to the king, ‘If things had gone ill at sea I really believe Madame would have died.’ ” Charles wrote: “I thanke God we have now the certayne news of a very considerable victory over the Duch; you will see most of the particulars by the relation my Lord Hollis will show you, though I have had as great a losse as ’tis possible in a good frinde, poore C. Barckely. It troubles me so much, as I hope you will excuse the shortness of this letter, having receaved the news of it but two houres agoe” (Madame, 1894, pp. 215, 216). ↩
Richard Cowling or Cooling. The name is usually spelt in the latter way in the Diary. The Lord Chamberlain was Edward, Earl of Manchester. ↩
For the king’s expression of regret at the loss of Charles Berkeley (Earl of Falmouth), see note 2528. ↩
On March 26th, 1658, the successful operation for the stone was performed at Pepys’s cousin’s (Mrs. Turner’s) house in Salisbury Court, and Pepys resolved to hold a commemorative feast for ever after on the anniversary of that day. On the first anniversary mentioned in the Diary, March 26th, 1660, he was at sea. In 1661 Mrs. Turner and her party dined with him at his father’s. In 1662 they all dined at Pepys’s house. In 1663 the dinner was postponed owing to Mrs. Pepys’s illness. In 1664 the feast was held on the correct day. ↩
Harman appears to have been the son of the Mr. and Mrs. Harman referred to on September 9th, 1664 (p. 239 of this volume). His wife, whom Pepys describes as “a very pretty, good-humoured wretch” (see August 1st, 1664), died in 1665, and Pepys then tried to get him to marry Paulina Pepys (see July 21st, 1665). ↩
Alderman Sir Richard Browne, Bart., was Lord Mayor in 1660–61, and Major-General of the Trained-bands; see ante, February 22nd, 1659–60. His son was Sir Richard Browne, Knight. Sir Richard Browne, the Clerk of the Council, noticed January 25th, 1661–62, was of a different family. The Lord Mayor was seated at Debden Hall, in Essex, which he had purchased soon after 1660, and the estate was alienated by his son, the second baronet. —B. ↩
Charles II’s letter of thanks to Lord Sandwich, dated “Whitehall, June 9th, 1665,” written entirely in the king’s hand, is printed in Ellis’s Original Letters, 1st series, vol. iii, p. 327. ↩
Of the four distinguished men who died after the late action with the Dutch and were buried in Westminster Abbey, the Earl of Marlborough was interred on June 14th, Viscount Muskerry on the 19th, the Earl of Falmouth on the 22nd, and Sir Edward Broughton on the 26th. After the entries in the Abbey Registers is this note: “These four last Honble Persons died in his Matyes service against the Dutch, excepting only that Sr Ed Br received his death’s wound at sea, but died here at home” (Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers, p. 162). ↩
William Sheldon, Clerk of the Cheque at Woolwich. ↩
The Public Intelligencer, published by Roger L’Estrange, the predecessor of the London Gazette. ↩
The number of deaths in London from all diseases, in the week ending June 13th, was 558; of these 112 died from the plague. ↩
Captain Robert Holmes (afterwards knighted). Sir William Coventry, in a letter to Lord Arlington (dated from The Royal Charles, Southwold Bay, June 13th), writes: “Capt. Holmes asked to be rear admiral of the white squadron in place of Sansum who was killed, but the Duke gave the place to Captain Harman, on which he delivered up his commission, which the Duke received, and put Captain Langhorne in his stead” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 423). ↩
John Harman, afterwards knighted. He had served with great reputation in several naval fights, and was desperately wounded in 1673, while engages with a Dutch man-o-war, which he captured. He survived the action some years, but never recovered his health. —B. For an account of the life of Sir John Harman, see Charnock’s Biographia Navalis, i 97–103. ↩
The Prince was Lord Sandwich’s ship; the captain was Roger Cuttance. It was put up at Chatham for repair at this date. ↩
Sir William Berkeley, see note, vol. iii, p. 334. His behaviour after the death of his brother, Lord Falmouth, is severely commented on in Poems on State Affairs, vol. i, p. 29
“Berkeley had heard it soon, and thought not good To venture more of royal Harding’s blood; To be immortal he was not of age, And did e’en now the Indian Prize presage; And judged it safe and decent, cost what cost, To lose the day, since his dear brother’s lost. With his whole squadron straight away he bore, And, like good boy, promised to fight no more.”
Jeremy Smith, knighted June, 1665. He succeeded Penn as Comptroller of the Victualling in 1669, and held the office until September, 1675. ↩
Captain Edward Grove commanded The Success in 1664. ↩
The Lord Treasurer (Earl of Southampton) lived at Southampton House on the north side of Bloomsbury Square, which afterwards came into the possession of the family of Russell owing to the marriage of Lady Rachael Russell, and was then known as Bedford House. ↩
John Colvill of Lombard Street, see ante, May 24th. He lost £85,832 17s. 2d. by the closing of the Exchequer in 1672, and he died between 1672 and 1677 (Price’s Handbook of London Bankers). ↩
Club = share.
“Next these a sort of Sots there are, Who crave more wine than they can bear, Yet hate, when drunk, to pay or spend Their equal Club or Dividend, But wrangle, when the Bill is brought, And think they’re cheated when they’re not.”
The Delights of the Bottle, or the Compleat Vintner, 3rd ed., 1721, p. 29
According to the Bills of Mortality there was no reduction in the number of deaths. The total number of burials in the week ending June 20th was 611, of which number 168 died from the plague. ↩
Coventry’s letter to the Duke of Albemarle (dated June 4th, 1665), which was transcribed by Pepys, is printed in the Rev. John Smith’s Life, Journals and Correspondence of S. Pepys, vol. i, p. 85. ↩
Philip Carteret, afterwards knighted. He perished on board Lord Sandwich’s (his father-in-law) flagship at the battle of Solebay. —B. ↩
In the Calendar of State Papers, 1664–65 (p. 239), it is stated that Coventry was knighted on March 3rd, 1665. ↩
In his will dated April 19th, 1665, Sir John Lawson requested that the pension of £500 settled upon him for life, which was promised to his daughters if he died in the service, might be divided equally between his two daughters, Elizabeth and Anna Lawson. On August 4th, 1665, a warrant was issued for grants to these two of a pension of £250 a year each (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, pp. 489, 502). ↩
King’s Head, corner of Chancery Lane. There is a token of “the King’s Head tavern at Chancery Lane end,” with a bust of Henry VIII. (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 554). ↩
Balthasar St. Michel (see note 199). His wife’s name was Esther. ↩
According to the Bills of Mortality, the total number of deaths in London for the week ending June 27th was 684, of which number 267 were deaths from the plague. The number of deaths rose week by week until September 19th, when the total was 8,297, and the deaths from the plague 7,165. On September 26th the total had fallen to 6,460, and deaths from the plague to 5,533. The number fell gradually, week by week, till October 31st, when the total was 1,388, and deaths from the plague 1,031. On November 7th there was a rise to 1,787 and 1,414 respectively. On November 14th the numbers had gone down to 1,359 and 1,050 respectively. On December 12th the total had fallen to 442, and deaths from the plague to 243. On December 19th there was a rise to 525 and 281 respectively. The total of burials in 1665 was 97,506, of which number the plague claimed 68,596 victims. ↩
The Queen-Mother never came to England again. She retired to her château at Colombes, near Paris, where she died in August, 1669, after a long illness; the immediate cause of her death being an opiate ordered by her physicians. She was buried, September 12th, in the church of St. Denis. Her funeral sermon was preached by Bossuet. Sir John Reresby speaks of Queen Henrietta Maria in high terms. He says that in the winter, 1659–60, although the Court of France was very splendid, there was a greater resort to the Palais Royal, “the good humour and wit of our Queen Mother, and the beauty of the Princess [Henrietta] her daughter, giving greater invitation than the more particular humour of the French Queen, being a Spaniard.” In another place he says: “Her majesty had a great affection for England, notwithstanding the severe usage she and hers had received from it. Her discourse was much with the great men and ladies of France in praise of the people and of the country; of their courage, generosity, good nature; and would excuse all their miscarriages in relation to unfortunate effects of the late war, as if it were a convulsion of some desperate and infatuated persons, rather than from the genius and temper of the kingdom” (Memoirs of Sir John Reresby, ed. Cartwright, pp. 43, 45). ↩
There are several letters among the State Papers from Commissioner Thomas Middleton relating to the want of workmen at Portsmouth Dockyard. On June 29th Middleton wrote to Pepys, “The ropemakers have discharged themselves for want of money, and gone into the country to make hay.” The blockmakers, the joiners, and the sawyers all refused to work longer without money (Calendar, 1664–65, p. 453). ↩
The arrangements for the marriage of Lady Jemimah Montagu to Philip Carteret were soon settled, for the wedding took place on July 31st. ↩
In the register of the Old Church at Greenwich is the following entry: “Sir John Lawson carried away, June 27th, 1665.” —B. ↩
A Mr. Osbaldstone, grocer, clerk of St. Botolph’s, Aldersgate, died of the plague on September 22nd, 1665 (Smith’s Obituary, p. 67). ↩
There are several letters of John Buckworth among the State Papers, and one of these to Secretary Williamson is dated from Crutched Friars, November 2nd, 1664. He appears to have been engaged with Sir Richard Ford in some business connected with tin. ↩
Sic orig. The period alluded to is 1650, when the States-General disbanded part of the forces which the Prince of Orange (William) wished to retain. The prince attempted, but unsuccessfully, to possess himself of Amsterdam. In the same year he died, at the early age of twenty-four; some say of the smallpox; others, with Sir Richard Ford, say of poison. —B. ↩
The son of a shoemaker, bred to the sea-service; he rose to the rank of an admiral, and was killed in the fight with the Dutch, June, 1666. —B. See post, June 10th, 1666. ↩
Among the State Papers is a letter from the king to the Lord General (dated August 8th, 1665):
“Alderman Backwell being in great straits for the second payment he has to make for the service in Flanders, as much tin is to be transmitted to him as will raise the sum. Has authorized him and Sir George Carteret to treat with the tin farmers for 500 tons of tin to be speedily transported under good convoy; but if, on consulting with Alderman Backwell, this plan of the tin seems insufficient, then without further difficulty he is to dispose for that purpose of the £10,000 assigned for pay of the Guards, not doubting that before that comes due, other ways will be found for supplying it; the payment in Flanders is of such importance that some means must be found of providing for it.”
“A form of Common Prayer; together with an order for fasting for the averting of God’s heavy visitation upon many places of this realm. The fast to be observed within the cities of London and Westminster and places adjacent, on Wednesday the twelfth of this instant July, and both there and in all parts of this realm on the first Wednesday in every month during the visitation.”
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1664–65, p. 466
Arrêt. The rupture between Alexander VII and Louis XIV was healed in 1664, by the treaty signed at Pisa, on February 12th. On August 9th, the pope’s nephew, Cardinal Chigi, made his entry into Paris, as legate, to give the king satisfaction for the insult offered at Rome by the Corsican guard to the Duc de Créqui, the French ambassador; (see January 25th, 1662–63). Cardinal Imperiali, Governor of Rome, asked pardon of the king in person, and all the hard conditions of the treaty were fulfilled. But no arrêt against the pope was set forth in 1665. On the contrary, Alexander, now wishing to please the king, issued a constitution on February 2nd, 1665, ordering all the clergy of France, without any exception, to sign a formulary condemning the famous five propositions extracted from the works of Jansenius; and on April 29th, the king in person ordered the parliament to register the bull. The Jansenist party, of course, demured to this proceeding; the Bishops of Alais, Angers, Beauvais, and Pamiers, issuing mandates calling upon their clergy to refuse. It was against these mandates, as being contrary to the king’s declaration and the pope’s intentions, that the arrêt was directed. —B. ↩
At the Treasurer’s house at Deptford, Sir G. Carteret’s official residence. ↩
Dagnams, about four miles from Romford, the seat of Lady Wright, widow of Sir Henry Wright, and sister of Lady Sandwich. In 1454 Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, died seised of the manors of Dagnams and Cockerells. In 1637 it belonged to Lawrence Wright, M.D., whose son Henry was created baronet by Cromwell in 1658, and by Charles II in 1660. The estate was devised by Anne (daughter of Sir Henry and Lady Wright), widow, first, of Sir Robert Pye, and afterwards of William Rider, to her cousin Edward Carteret, Postmaster-General, third son of Sir Philip and Lady Jemimah Carteret. The manor was sold in 1749 to Henry Muilman, and again in 1772 to Sir Richard Neave, who pulled down the old house (built by Sir Henry Wright), and built the present mansion on a new site. The present proprietor is Sir Thomas Neave, Bart. ↩
The erection of New Chapel, Broadway, Westminster, is ascribed to Dr. Darrell, prebendary of St. Peter’s, who in 1631 left £400 for the purpose; Sir Robert Pye, who added £500 to complete and furnish it and Archbishop Laud, who contributed £1,000 and some painted glass. It was not completed till 1636. Whitelocke mentions the burying ground under the year 1649. Christ Church (dedicated December 14th, 1843) has now taken the place of the New Chapel. ↩
The royal lodge of that name in Windsor Forest, occupied by Sir George Carteret as Vice-Chamberlain to the King. —B. ↩
Probably Mrs. Burrows, of Westminster, whose husband, Lieutenant Burrows, died in the following December (see December 21st, 1665). ↩
Apparently Robert Stockdale, a contractor for naval stores. ↩
The hall here spoken of was converted into the archiepiscopal library by Archbishop Howley. ↩
James Marriott, “Keeper of the standing Wardrobe and privy lodgings at Hampton Court,” who succeeded to this post in December, 1664, on the death of Richard Marriott. Richard Marriott is referred to on May 12th, 1662 (see note 1412). ↩
Mr. Morris had contracts for tar with the Navy office. ↩
Queenhithe is usually written “Queenhive” by our old dramatists. ↩
Louisa Marguerite Carteret, afterwards married to Sir Robert Atkins. ↩
Richard Butler, Earl of Arran (see note, vol. iv, p. 348). He married, firstly, Lady Mary Stuart, daughter of James, first Duke of Richmond and fourth of Lenox, who died in 1667 without issue (apparently the lady referred to in the text), and, secondly, Dorothy, daughter of John Ferrers, of Tamworth Castle, co. Warwick. ↩
Pepys wrote to Lord Hinchingbroke from the Navy Office on July 25th, 1665, to inform him that a ship of 36 guns would be at Calais on August 1st to take him to Dover. ↩
Sir William Killigrew, elder brother of Tom Killigrew. He was made a baronet about 1661. He wrote some verses and plays, and became Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen. He died about 1694. ↩
The new London being built to replace the old London by Captain John Taylor, Navy Commissioner at Harwich (see April 21st, 1666). ↩
Mary Batelier, the beauty, who kept a linendraper’s shop in the Royal Exchange. She and her brother William are frequently mentioned in the Diary. ↩
The marriage licence of Philip Carteret, of St. Peter-le-Poor, bachelor, aged 24, and Dame Jemima Montagu, spinster, aged 17, is dated July 29th, 1665 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 249). Pepys wrote to Lord Sandwich on August 7th, and in his letter he says, “After a fortnight’s acquaintance between the young people their marriage was completed on Monday, July 31st; present Sir G. Carteret, my Lady, and my Lady Slaning on their side, with my Lord Crew, Lady Sandwich, Lady Wright and all her family on your Lordship’s, and is the only occurrence of all my life I ever met with, begun, proceeded on, and finished with the same uninterrupted excess of satisfaction to all parties.” The letter is printed in Smith’s Life, Journals, and Correspondence of S. Pepys, vol. i, pp. 95–100. ↩
This curious experiment is referred to in most books of games and tricks, and a full account will be found in Brewster’s Natural Magic, p. 256. Lord Braybrooke added a note on the authority of Dr. S. R. Maitland respecting an experiment once tried in Gloucestershire on a very stout gentleman, the information respecting which he obtained from the late Mr. W. J. Thoms, founder of Notes and Queries. ↩
Lady Jemimah.
“This evening I accompanied Mr. Treasurer and Vice-Chamberlain Carteret to his lately married son-in-law’s, Sir Thomas Scott, to Scott’s Hall. We took barge as far as Gravesend, thence by post to Rochester, whence in coach and six horses to Scott’s Hall, a right noble seat, uniformly built, with a handsome gallery. It stands in a park well stor’d, the land fat and good.”
Sir G. Carteret’s eldest daughter, Anne, married in 1663 to Sir Nicholas Slaning, K.B. —B. ↩
This was probably Phil. Barrow, who was storekeeper at Chatham. ↩
The rescue of Colonel Danvers in Cheapside is mentioned in a letter from Sir William Coventry to Lord Arlington, dated August 7th, 1665 (Calendar of State Papers, 1664–65, p. 506). ↩
Alderman J. Bence was secretary to the Royal African Society. ↩
Nonsuch Palace, near Epsom, where the Exchequer money was kept during the time of the plague. See note 1887. ↩
Christopher Pett wrote to the Navy Commissioners from Woolwich on August 15th, and in his letter he says, “It has pleased God to send the infection of the plague into the town, and two houses are already visited; fear it will be very mortal, will take every care to prevent it spreading to the yard” (Calendar of State Papers, 1664–65, p. 519). ↩
The court went in the following month from Salisbury to Oxford. This Milton may be intended for Milton Lilbourne, a parish in Wiltshire. ↩
The Sovereign of the Seas was built at Woolwich in 1637 of timber which had been stripped of its bark while growing in the spring, and not felled till the second autumn afterwards; and it is observed by Dr. Plot (Phil. Trans. for 1691), in his discourse on the most seasonable time for felling timber, written by the advice of Pepys, that after forty-seven years, “all the ancient timber then remaining in her, it was no easy matter to drive a nail into it” (Quarterly Review, vol. viii, p. 35). —B. ↩
Fanfaron, French, from fanfare, a sounding of trumpets; hence, a swaggerer, or empty boaster. ↩
Churchyard Alley, Upper Thames Street, close by London Bridge. ↩
Sir George Smith, of St. Bartholomew, by the Exchange. He married Martha, daughter of John Swift, of London, merchant. —B. ↩
James Carcasse (or Carkesse) was one of the four clerks of the Ticket Office, and in a paper of Pepys’s at Magdalene College he is described as the clerk to attend on Sir John Minnes for the signing of tickets. He was dismissed from the office for irregularities, principally through the action of Pepys. He published a quarto volume of poems in 1679, called Lucida Intervalla, the following extract from which, strongly reflecting upon Pepys, has been printed in Notes and Queries (1st series), vol. ii, p. 87:—
“Get thee behind me, then, dumb devil, begone, The Lord hath Eppthatha said to my tongue. Him I must praise who open’d hath my lips, Sent me from Navy to the Ark by Pepys; By Mr. Pepys, who hath my rival been For the Duke’s favour, more than years thirteen; But I excluded, he high and fortunate, This Secretary I could never mate. But Clerk of th’ Acts, if I’m a parson, then I shall prevail, the voice outdoes the pen; Though in a gown, the challenge I may make, And wager win, save, if you can, your stake. To th’ Admiral I all submit, and vail—”
The yard and fortifications of Sheerness were designed and first “staked out” by Sir Bernard de Gomme (see March 24th, 1667). The original plan is in the British Museum. —B. ↩
Queenborough, a parish and town in Kent, in the Isle of Sheppey, two miles south of Sheerness. ↩
Peter Blackborow, or Blackbery, held contracts with the Navy Commissioners for the supply of timber. ↩
This letter of the Duke of Albemarle to the Navy Commissioners is among the State Papers, it orders a supply of provisions to be sent forthwith to the Gunfleet, and thence convoyed to Southwold Bay. “Ammunition is wanted also, and as many men as can be obtained” (Calendar, 1664–65, p. 524). ↩
A news letter of August 19th (Salisbury), gives the following account of this affair:—“The Earl of Sandwich being on the Norway coast, ordered Sir Thomas Teddeman with 20 ships to attack 50 Dutch merchant ships in Bergen harbour; six convoyers had so placed themselves that only four or five of the ships could be reached at once. The Governor of Bergen fired on our ships, and placed 100 pieces of ordnance and two regiments of foot on the rocks to attack them, but they got clear without the loss of a ship, only 500 men killed or wounded, five or six captains among them. The fleet has gone to Sole Bay to repair losses and be ready to encounter the Dutch fleet, which is gone northward” (Calendar of State Papers, 1664–65, pp. 526, 527). Medals were struck in Holland, the inscription in Dutch on one of these is thus translated: “Thus we arrest the pride of the English, who extend their piracy even against their friends, and who insulting the forts of Norway, violate the rights of the harbours of King Frederick; but, for the reward of their audacity, see their vessels destroyed by the balls of the Dutch” (Hawkins’s Medallic Illustrations of the History of Great Britain and Ireland, ed. Franks and Grueber, 1885, vol. i, p. 508). Sir Gilbert Talbot’s “True Narrative of the Earl of Sandwich’s Attempt upon Bergen with the English Fleet on the 3rd of August, 1665, and the Cause of his Miscarriage thereupon,” is in the British Museum (Harl. MS., No. 6859). It is printed in Archæologia, vol. xxii, p. 33. The Earl of Rochester also gave an account of the action in a letter to his mother (Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Biography, fourth edition, vol. iv, p. 611). Sir John Denham, in his Advice to a Painter, gives a long satirical account of the affair. A coloured drawing of the attack upon Bergen, on vellum, showing the range of the ships engaged, is in the British Museum. Shortly after the Bergen affair forty of the Dutch merchant vessels, on their way to Holland, fell into the hands of the English, and in Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, vol. ii, p. 364, is a list of the prizes taken on the 3rd and 4th September. The troubles connected with these prizes and the disgrace into which Lord Sandwich fell are fully set forth in subsequent pages of the Diary. Evelyn writes in his Diary (November 27th, 1665): “There was no small suspicion of my Lord Sandwich having permitted divers commanders who were at ye taking of ye East India prizes to break bulk and take to themselves jewels, silkes, etc., though I believe some whom I could name fill’d their pockets, my Lo. Sandwich himself had the least share. However, he underwent the blame, and it created him enemies, and prepossess’d ye Lo. Generall [Duke of Albemarle], for he spake to me of it with much zeale and concerne, and I believe laid load enough on Lo. Sandwich at Oxford.” ↩
The captains killed in the unfortunate attack upon Bergen were Captain Seale of the Breda, Captain Utber, jun., of the Guernsey, Captain Hayward of the Prudent Mary, Captain Lawson, Coast frigate, Captain Cadman of Hamburg Merchant, Captain Price of the Briar. ↩
This Mr. Windham had entered into a formal engagement with the Earl of Rochester, “not without ceremonies of religion, that if either of them died, he should appear, and give the other notice of the future state, if there was any.” He was probably one of the brothers of Sir William Wyndham, Bart. See Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Biography, fourth edition, vol. iv, p. 615. —B. ↩
This Mr. Windham had entered into a formal engagement with the Earl of Rochester, “not without ceremonies of religion, that if either of them died, he should appear, and give the other notice of the future state, if there was any.” He was probably one of the brothers of Sir William Wyndham, Bart. See Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Biography, fourth edition, vol. iv, p. 615. —B. ↩
It is not clear whether the Mr. Fenn mentioned several times about this period was Pepys’s old friend Jack Fenn, or Nicholas Fenn who was at a later date Commissioner of the Victualling Office. ↩
Eastland was a name given to the eastern countries of Europe. The Eastland Company, or Company of Merchants trading to the East Country, was incorporated in Queen Elizabeth’s reign (anno 21), and the charter was confirmed 13 Car. II. They were also called “The Merchants of Elbing.” ↩
Alexander Burnett, M.D. (Camb., 1648), admitted an Honorary Fellow of the College of Physicians in December, 1664. His house was in Fenchurch Street. He was reported to have fallen a victim to his zeal.
“Dr. Burnett, Dr. Glover, and one or two more of the College of Physicians, with Dr. O’Dowd, which was licensed by my Lord’s Grace of Canterbury, some surgeons, apothecaries, and Johnson, the chemist, died all very suddenly. Some say (but God forbid that I should report it for truth) that these, in a consultation together, if not all, yet the greatest part of them, attempted to open a dead corpse which was full of the tokens; and being in hand with the dissected body, some fell down dead immediately, and others did not outlive the next day at noon.”
Tillison to Dr. Sancroft, September 14th, 1665, in Ellis’s Original Letters, second series, vol. iv, p. 37
Mrs. Williams, Lord Brounckers mistress, frequently mentioned in the Diary after this date. ↩
For note on the copy of Charles I’s Works, now in the Pepysian Library, see note 1444. ↩
Theophilus Biddulph, of Westcombe, co. Kent, was created a baronet in October, 1664. ↩
Seventh son of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire; he was the direct ancestor of the present Earl of Suffolk, to whom both the titles descended. —B. ↩
This republican plot was described by the Lord Chancellor in a speech delivered on October 9th, when parliament met at Oxford. ↩
Alexander Browne, the limner, who taught Mrs. Pepys drawing. ↩
Swakeley House, in the parish of Ickenham, Middlesex, was built in 1638 by Sir Edmund Wright (Lord Mayor 1641), whose daughter married Sir James Harrington, one of Charles I’s judges. The property was sold in 1665 by Lady Harrington to Sir Robert Vyner (Lord Mayor 1674). Benjamin Lethieullier bought the manor in 1741 from the Vyner family and sold it to Thomas Clarke in 1750. The manor belonged to Robert Swaklyve in the early part of the fourteenth century. ↩
Mary, daughter of John Whitchurch, Esq., and widow of Sir Thomas Hyde, Bart., of Albury, Herts. ↩
Dawley House, long the seat of the Bennet family. ↩
Harlington is a village in Middlesex, about a mile from Uxbridge. The manor was sold by Francis Coppinger in 1607 to Sir John Bennet, whose son, Sir Henry Bennet, took his title from the place under the cocknified form of Arlington. It was alienated by Ford Grey, Earl of Tankerville, to Viscount Bolingbroke. ↩
Sir William Doyly, of Shottisham, Norfolk, knighted 1642, created a baronet 1663. M.P. for Yarmouth. Died 1677. He and Mr. Evelyn were at this time appointed commissioners for the care of the sick and wounded seamen and prisoners of war. —B. ↩
Ombre is a Spanish game of cards, and the name is derived from the Spanish word hombre, a man. It is said that the game was introduced into England by Queen Katharine of Braganza. Waller wrote an epigram “On a card that her Majesty tore at Ombre.” Mr. H. Hucks Gibbs published anonymously in 1873 an interesting little volume, with coloured plates, entitled The Game of Ombre. ↩
The practice of having a down coverlet like a bed is not confined to Denmark, as all travellers in Germany and Switzerland know. ↩
“The Hector is lost, with most of her crew, and her captain, a gallant man, who had brought in the Vice-Admiral of the East India fleet. Captains Lambert and Langhorne have also fallen.”
A gold coin, so called because it bore the image of an angel, varying in value from six shillings and eightpence to ten shillings. ↩
Sir William Hickes, created a baronet 1619. Died 1680, aged eighty-four. His country seat was called Ruckholts, or Rookwood, at Layton, in Essex, where he entertained King Charles II after hunting. —B. ↩
The old name for backgammon, used by Shakespeare and others. The following lines are from an epitaph entirely made up of puns on backgammon
“Man’s life’s a game at tables, and he may Mend his bad fortune by his wiser play.”
Dr. Johnson was puzzled by the following passage in The Merry Wives of Windsor, act v, sc. 3: “Divide me like a bribe-buck, each a haunch. I will keep the sides to myself; my shoulders for the fellow of this walk.” If he could have read the account of Sir William Hickes’s dinner, he would at once have understood the allusion to the keeper’s perquisites of the shoulders of all deer killed in his walk. —B. ↩
There is a token of the Angel Tavern at Tower Hill, dated 1649. The alehouse was probably the Rose and Crown at Tower Stairs, of which there is also a token. (See Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 775.) ↩
Sidney Montagu, brother of Edward, Earl of Sandwich, was with his niece, Lady Jemima Carteret. Scot’s Hall belonged to her husband’s brother-in-law, Sir Thomas Scott. ↩
Thomas Plume, D.D., vicar of Greenwich, 1663, and installed Archdeacon of Rochester, 1679. Died November 20th, 1704, and buried in Longfield churchyard. ↩
Lord Sandwich was not so successful in convincing other people as to the propriety of his conduct at Bergen as he was with Pepys. ↩
There is a shorthand journal of proceedings relating to Pepys’s purchase of some East India prize goods among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library. ↩
This was Nonsuch. When proclamation was made, September 26th, that the courts were to be removed from Westminster to Oxford, it was announced that the Exchequer was to remain at Nonsuch. There is no authority for attributing any of the work to either Holbein or Rubens. See ante, August 11th, and note 1887. ↩
The same discovery was made in 1789, in digging the Brunswick Dock, also at Blackwall, and elsewhere in the neighbourhood. See Notes and Queries, 1st series, vol. viii, p. 263. —M. B. ↩
Sir Edward Montagu, Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, 1539–45 Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 1545–53. He died February 10th, 1556–57. ↩
These are the words in the MS., and not “his son and the Lord Montagu,” as in some former editions. Pepys seems to have written Lord Montagu by mistake for Sir Edward Montagu.
Pedigree of the Earl of Sandwich
—M. B.
Lord Sandwich speaks of five [four?] generations, in which the number of descendants might have multiplied ad infinitum. “When King James came into England,” observes Ward, in his Diary, p. 170, “he was ffeasted at Boughton, by Sir Edward Montagu, and his six sonnes brought upp the six first dishes; three of them after were lords, and three more knights—Sir Walter Montagu, Sir Sydney, and Sir Charles, whose daughter Lady Hatton is.” Fuller, also, in his Worthies, records that “Hester Sandys, the wife of Sir Thomas Temple, of Stowe, Bart., had four sons and nine daughters, which lived to be married, and so exceedingly multiplied, that she saw seven hundred extracted from her body. Besides, there was a new generation of marriageable females just at her death” (see Collins’s Peerage, vol. ii, p. 411). When Charles, thirteenth Duke of Norfolk, had completed his restoration of Arundel Castle, he proposed to entertain all the descendants of his ancestor, Jock of Norfolk, who fell at Bosworth Field; but gave up on his intention on finding that he should have to invite upwards of six thousand persons. —B. ↩
In the British Museum, Egerton MS., 861, is an account showing the value of all prizes taken during the war with the Dutch; distinguishing the vessels, their goods, the ports at which they were condemned, and the parties to whose accounts the amounts were debited. —B. ↩
This picture by Mrs. Pepys may have given trouble when Pepys was unjustifiably attacked for having Popish pictures in his house. ↩
The Court was then held at Salisbury, where the King and Queen removed on July 27th. ↩
William Wardour was appointed Clerk of the Pells in 1660. ↩
He had been a farmer of the excise and customs before the Restoration (see note 1531). ↩
John Temple and John Seale were goldsmiths at the Three Tuns in Lombard Street (see A Collection of the Names of the Merchants Living in and About the City of London, 1677. 12mo.). ↩
Christian, daughter of Sir Alexander Urquhart of Cromarty. —B. ↩
Instructions concerning erecting of a Library, presented to my Lord the President De Mesme by Gilbert Naudeus, and now interpreted by Jo. Evelyn, Esquire. London, 1661. This little book was dedicated to Lord Clarendon by the translator. It was printed while Evelyn was abroad, and is full of typographical errors; these are corrected in a copy mentioned in Evelyn’s Miscellaneous Writings, 1825, p. xii, where a letter to Dr. Godolphin on the subject is printed. ↩
Each of the Commissioners for the Sick and Wounded was appointed to a particular district, and Evelyn’s district was Kent and Sussex. On September 25th, 1665, Evelyn wrote in his Diary: “My Lord Admiral being come from ye fleet to Greenewich, I went thence with him to ye Cockpit to consult with the Duke of Albemarle. I was peremptory that unless we had £10,000 immediately, the prisoners would starve, and ’twas proposed it should be rais’d out of the E. India prizes now taken by Lord Sandwich. They being but two of ye Commission, and so not impower’d to determine, sent an express to his Majesty and Council to know what they should do.” ↩
Evelyn purchased Sayes Court, Deptford, in 1653, and laid out his gardens, walks, groves, enclosures, and plantations, which afterwards became famous for their beauty. When he took the place in hand it was nothing but an open field of one hundred acres, with scarcely a hedge in it. ↩
Apparently Thomas Beckford the slopseller, who was afterwards knighted (see note 868). Mr. Frank Cundall has written a valuable article on the Beckfords in the Journal of the Institute of Jamaica, vol. i, no. 8, p. 349. Mr. Cundall suggested to the editor that this may be Captain Edward Beckford, who is mentioned in a deposition dated December 18th, 1668, calendered by Mr. W. Noel Sainsbury in the Calendar of State Papers, Colonial Series (America and West Indies, 1661–68, p. 635). Thomas Beckford, however, is referred to in August, 1666, as Major Beckford, and therefore he may well have been a captain in 1665. ↩
John Tooker, Navy Office messenger. See ante, April 5th. ↩
Judith Penington was daughter of the Parliamentarian Alderman Isaac Penington, and sister of Isaac Penington the Quaker, and of Arthur Penington, who became a Roman Catholic priest. A letter to Judith Penington from her brother Isaac, in which he addresses her on her religious state, is printed in Maria Webb’s The Penns and Peningtons of the Seventeenth Century, 1867, p. 311: “Is thy soul in unity with God, or art thou separated from Him? Whither art thou travelling? oh, whither art thou travelling?” ↩
A false report. Alexander VII did not die till 1667. ↩
Philip IV, King of Spain, who succeeded to the throne in 1621, died in 1665. He was succeeded by his son Charles II. ↩
The King and Court removed to Oxford from Salisbury on September 23rd. ↩
Captain Jeremiah Smith (or Smyth), knighted June, 1665; Admiral of the Blue in 1666. He succeeded Sir William Penn as Comptroller of the Victualling Accounts in 1669, and held the office until 1675. ↩
Sion House, granted by Edward VI to his uncle, the Duke of Somerset. After his execution, 1552, it was forfeited, and given to John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland. The duke being beheaded in 1553, it reverted to the Crown, and was granted in 1604 to Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland. It still belongs to the Duke of Northumberland. ↩
This person, erroneously called by Pepys Sir C. Herbert, will be best defined by subjoining the inscription on his monument in Westminster Abbey: “Sir Charles Harbord, Knight, third son of Sir Charles Harbord, Knight, Surveyor-General, and First Lieutenant of the Royal James, under the most noble and illustrious Captaine, Edward, Earl of Sandwich, Vice-Admiral of England, which, after a terrible fight, maintained to admiration against a squadron of the Holland fleet, above six hours, near the Suffolk coast, having put off two fireships; at last, being utterly disabled, and few of her men remaining unhurt, was, by a third, unfortunately set on fire. But he (though he swome well) neglected to save himselfe, as some did, and out of perfect love to that worthy Lord, whom, for many yeares, he had constantly accompanyed, in all his honourable employments, and in all the engagements of the former war, died with him, at the age of xxxii, much bewailed by his father, whom he never offended; and much beloved by all for his known piety, virtue, loyalty, fortitude, and fidelity.” —B. ↩
James Sotherne, secretary to Sir W. Coventry, and afterwards himself Secretary of the Admiralty (see note 157). ↩
The Duke of York’s letter appointing Thomas Wilson Surveyor of the Victualling of His Majesty’s Navy in the Port of London, and referring to Pepys as Surveyor-General of the Victualling Affairs, is printed in Memoirs of the English Affairs, Chiefly Naval, 1660–73, by James, Duke of York, 1729, p. 131. ↩
This sum was granted by the Commons to Charles, with a request that he would bestow it on his brother. —B. ↩
Edward Coleman, musical composer and singer, who undertook the character of Alphonso when the first part of D’Avenant’s The Siege of Rhodes was acted at Rutland House in 1656. His wife represented the character of Ianthe at the same time. ↩
Nicholas Lanier, composer of the symphonies to several of the masques written by Ben Jonson, and performed at Court, had died, æt. 78, November 4th, 1646, and was buried at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields (Somerset House Gazette, vol. i, p. 57). The Letters-Patent under which the Society of Musicians was incorporated at the Restoration, mention a Lanier, possibly a son of Nicholas, as first Marshal, and four others of his name as Wardens or Assistants of the Company. There is an engraved portrait of him in the British Museum (Addit. MS. 15,858, fol. 55), and a letter to his niece, Mrs. Richards, “at her house in the Old Aumery, Westminster.” —B. ↩
M.P. for Bury St. Edmunds, and in the list of proposed Knights of the Royal Oak for Suffolk. —B. ↩
Charles Wager was captain of the Yarmouth in the fleet at Scheveling attending Charles II on his return to England. He died at Deale, February 24th, 1665–66. Pepys says that even the Moors mentioned him with tears (see post, March 27th, 1668). ↩
This must surely have been Evelyn’s Sculptura, or the History and Art of Chalcography and Engraving in Copper, published in 1662. The translation of Freart’s Idea of the Perfection of Painting Demonstrated was not published until 1668. ↩
The Duke of Albemarle had more than one chaplain. Thomas Gumble, D.D., who wrote the life of his patron (1671), was one of these. ↩
Evelyn described the new art of mezzotint in his Sculptura. He published several works on gardening, and left MSS. on the same subject. We have no record of the plays referred to by Pepys. ↩
The tide of popular indignation ran high against Lord Sandwich, and he was sent to Spain as ambassador to get him honourably out of the way (see post, December 6th). ↩
The phrase “set up my rest” is a metaphor from the once fashionable game of Primero, meaning, to stand upon the cards you have in your hand, in hopes they may prove better than those of your adversary. Hence, to make up your mind, to be determined (see Nares’s Glossary). ↩
See note 3075, for the number of deaths from the plague as given in the Bills of Mortality. ↩
Origines Sacræ, or a rational Account of the Christian Faith, by Edward Stillingfleet, afterwards Dean of St. Paul’s and Bishop of Worcester, was published in 1662. ↩
There was a once famous King’s Head at the corner of fleet Street and Chancery Lane. ↩
Captain Crispe had only been made an Elder Brother on April 19th, 1665. ↩
Alderman Isaac Penington, Sheriff of London 1638, was elected Member of Parliament for the City of London in 1640, and in 1642 chosen Lord Mayor, and afterwards appointed Lieutenant of the Tower. He was one of the Commissioners for the trial of Charles I, but he did not sign the warrant for his execution, and a member of the Council of State, 1649. In 1660 he was committed to the Tower as one of the King’s judges, and his estates confiscated. He died there on December 17th, 1661. “. Warrant to Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, to deliver the corpse of Isaac Penington, who died in prison there [], to his relations” (State Papers). He had two sons: Isaac, a well-known Quaker, and Arthur, who became a Romish priest; and a daughter Judith. ↩
John Ashburnham, a Groom of the Bedchamber to Charles I, whom he attended during the whole of the Rebellion, and afterwards filled the same post under Charles II. He was, in 1661, M.P. for Sussex. Ob. 1671. The late Earl of Ashburnham, who was lineally descended from him, wrote an excellent vindication of his ancestor, against the insinuations of Clarendon and others. —B. ↩
Colonel Francis Wyndham, a distinguished loyalist. Governor of Dunster Castle, Somersetshire. He was created a baronet November 18th, 1673. —B. ↩
Known as Handsome Sidney. He was fourth son of Robert, second Earl of Leicester, created Earl of Romney, 1694. He was Warden of the Cinque Ports, 1691–1702; Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, 1692–95; and Master of the Ordnance, 1693–1702. He died, unmarried, April 8th, 1704. ↩
Henry Saville, sometime one of the Grooms of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York. —B. ↩
Dr. Hueffer says that this song of Henry Lawes is evidently the one given to “Ariadne sitting upon a rock in the Island of Naxos deserted by Theseus,” opening the first book of the Ayres and Dialogues; and he adds, “Pepys shows his keen perception of the characteristics belonging not only to a single piece, but to a whole school of music. Lawes’s songs, even those of the most lyrical type, partake of the nature of the recitative in the sense that the declamatory element is never lost sight of” (Hueffer’s Italian and Other Studies, 1883, p. 293).
Henry Lawes, son of William Lawes of Steeple Langford, and born at Dinton, co. Wilts. He was baptized January 1st, 1595–6, was sworn in as Pistler of the Chapel Royal January 1st, 1625–6, and afterwards became Gentleman and Clerk of the Cheque. He composed the music for Milton’s Comus, performed at Ludlow Castle in 1634, and performed the part of the attendant spirit. He continued in the service of Charles I until the king’s execution. He then had recourse to teaching. At the Restoration he was replaced in his offices at the Chapel Royal, and composed the Coronation Anthems for Charles II. He died October 21st, 1662, and was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey (see The Old Cheque Book of the Chapel Royal, 1561–1744, edited by Dr. Rimbault, 1872, pp. 11, 13, 49, 59, 99, 114, 128, 145, 208). ↩
Peter Llewelyn was admitted a Clerk of the Privy Council on February 8th, 1659–60 (Index of Proceedings of Council, Calendar of State Papers, Domestic). He is frequently mentioned by Pepys as Luellin, but on April 26th, 1660 (vol. i, p. 119), his Christian name is given. Mr. W. R. Lluellyn has kindly given the editor this reference to the State Papers, and has also pointed out that Peter Llewelyn was probably the “Peter Fewellin” recorded in the register of St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, as having been “borne on the 29th September and baptised on the 30th do. in the year 1636.” This Peter Llewelyn was son of David Llewelyn, under-keeper of the privy lodgings and house at Windsor Castle, who died October 16th, 1661, and was buried on the 17th. In May, 1660, David petitioned for the reversion of the housekeeper’s place, on the ground that he defended the lodgings and wardrobe at the hazard of his life, and was imprisoned, and ordered to be tried for his life, but the late king himself mediated for him (Calendar of State Papers). His son, Charles Llewellin (baptized March 30th, 1630), succeeded his father as under-keeper of the house and privy lodgings at Windsor Castle (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, vol. clxxxv). Another son, David (born 22nd, and baptized 30th April, 1641), became rector of Tansor, and successively Prebendary of Lincoln and Peterborough (Register of St. Peter’s, Westminster; Bridges’ Northamptonshire. See Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers, p. 18). The name is variously spelt “Fluellin” (the form adopted by Shakespeare) giving the nearest approach to the correct pronunciation. ↩
No. xxiv of the Oxford Gazette was the first London Gazette. The Williamson who “wrote” it was afterwards Sir Joseph Williamson. —B. ↩
Among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian Library is Pepys’s acknowledgment of money received from Sir Hugh Cholmeley in 1665. ↩
This ledger is now in the British Museum, amongst some of Pepys’s papers, in the Ducket Collection. —B. ↩
Amongst these documents, still in the Pepysian Library—for Evelyn complains (Correspondence, vol. iii, p. 381, edit. 1852) that he lent them to Pepys, who omitted to return them—are some letters relating to the death of Amy Robsart, Lady Robert Dudley. These letters between Lord Robert Dudley and Thomas Blount were published by Lord Braybrooke as an Appendix to the Diary. ↩
Frosting means, having the horses’ shoes turned up by the smith. ↩
Sir Robert Long was Auditor of the Exchequer, which office was removed from Westminster to his Majesty’s honour of Nonsuch, August 15th, 1665. On September 22nd, 1670, the king demised the Great Park, Great Park Meadow, and the mansion house called Worcester Park, to Sir Robert Long, Bart., for ninety-nine years (Manning and Bray’s Surrey, vol. ii, p. 606). ↩
Collections of Bishop Jeremy Taylor’s Sermons were published in 1651–53 and 1657. ↩
Alan Broderick, son of Sir Thomas Broderick, of Richmond, Yorkshire, and Wandsworth, Surrey, was born in 1623 at Garret, near Wandsworth. After the Restoration he successively filled the offices of Provost-Marshal of Munster, Surveyor-General of Ireland, and one of the Commissioners for the settlement of the affairs of that kingdom. He was knighted by Charles II, and died in 1680. ↩
Instructions for the Victualling Agent in the Port of London, dated November 30th, 1665, will be found among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian. ↩
Sir James Bunce was an alderman of the City of London. ↩
Apparently Mrs. Lethieulier, daughter of Sir William Hooker (see December 13th). ↩
Colonel Wyndham’s wife was Anne, daughter and co-heir of Thomas Gerard, of Trent, Somersetshire. As to Mrs. Wyndham’s influence over Charles II, when Prince of Wales, see Clarendon, vol. v, p. 153, ed. 1826. —B. ↩
Should be Ashburnham. See Sir John Ashburnham’s Vindication, and note 2721. ↩
William Legge, Groom of the Bedchamber to Charles I, and father to George Legge, first Lord Dartmouth. He was M.P. for Southampton. Died 1672. ↩
Lord Sandwich’s conduct at Bergen, when he captured eight Dutch ships of war and about twenty other vessels, and appropriated a portion of the cargo to his own use, caused him to be reprimanded and deprived of his command. To screen him, however, from public disgrace he was appointed ambassador to Spain. Sir Richard Fanshaw, our ambassador there, was unjustly superseded. Clarendon, in his Life, gives as the reason for Fanshaw’s recall disapproval of the commercial treaty between England and Spain of December 17th, 1665, which he had signed; but we see from Pepys’s words that Lord Sandwich’s appointment had been decided upon before this (see Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. ii, p. 359). ↩
The words of this song, addressed by Suleiman to Roxelana, are taken from the second part of the Siege of Rhodes, act iv, sc. 2, Pepys’s music is in the Pepysian Library.
“Beauty retire; thou doest my pitty move, Believe my pitty, and then trust my love. [Exit Roxelana. Att first I thought her by our Prophet sent, As a reward for valour’s toiles. More worth than all my Father’s spoiles; But now, she is become my punishment. But thou art just, O Pow’r divine, With niew and painfull arts Of studied warr, I breake the hearts Of half the world, and shee breakes mine.”
Genest, in his History of the British Stage, vol. i, enumerates sixteen characters filled by Mrs. Knipp, at the King’s House, between 1664 and 1678, when she disappears from the playbills, in which her name is spelt in six different ways. The details in the Diary respecting this lively actress and “her brute of a husband,” whom Pepys describes as a “horse jockey,” are so amusing, that any particulars of their subsequent history would have been interesting. ↩
When Lord Sandwich was away a new commander had to be chosen, and rank and long service pointed out Prince Rupert for the office, it having been decided that the heir presumptive should be kept at home. It was thought, however, that the same confidence could not be placed in the prince’s discretion as in his courage, and therefore the Duke of Albemarle was induced to take a joint command with him, “and so make one admiral of two persons” (see Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. ii, pp. 360, 361). ↩
The passage between brackets is from a piece of paper inserted in this place. ↩
Mr. Lethieulier’s wife was Anne, daughter of Sir William Hooker (see October 14th, 1666), and his wife Mary, daughter of Thomas Gipps, or Gibbs, of London. ↩
Edmund Hinton, a goldsmith in Lombard Street (Ellis’s Original Letters, 3rd series, vol. iv, p. 310). ↩
John Hinton, M.D., a strong royalist, who attended Henrietta Maria in her confinement at Exeter when she gave birth to the Princess Henrietta. He was knighted by Charles II, and appointed physician in ordinary to the king and queen. His knighthood was a reward for having procured a private advance of money from his kinsman, the goldsmith, to enable the Duke of Albemarle to pay the army (see “Memorial to King Charles II from Sir John Hinton, A.D. 1679,” printed in Ellis’s Original Letters, 3rd series, vol. iv, p. 296). ↩
Captain Hugh Seymour, of the Foresight (fourth rate), who was killed in the action of July, 1666 {see post, July 29th). ↩
According to Granville Penn (Memorials of Sir W. Penn, ii 488 n.) £2,000 went to Lord Sandwich and £8,000 among eight others. ↩
This document is in the British Museum (Harleian MS. 6287), and is entitled, “A Letter from Mr. Pepys, dated at Greenwich, 1 Jan. 1665–6, which he calls his New Year’s Gift to his hon. friend, Sir Wm. Coventry, wherein he lays down a method for securing his Majesty in husbandly execution of the Victualling Part of the Naval Expense.” It consists of nineteen closely written folio pages, and is a remarkable specimen of Pepys’s business habits. —B. There are copies of several letters on the victualling of the navy, written by Pepys in 1666, among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian. ↩
The Scottish ballad is entitled, “Sir John Grehme and Barbara Allan,” and the English version, “Barbara Allen’s Cruelty.” Both are printed in Percy’s Reliques, Series III. ↩
A song called “Dapper Dicky” is in the British Museum; it begins, “In a barren tree.” It was printed in 1710. —B. ↩
“This Duchess was Chancellor Hyde’s daughter, and she was a very handsome woman, and had a great deal of wit; therefore it was not without reason that Mr. Sydney, the handsomest youth of his time, of the Duke’s bedchamber, was so much in love with her, as appeared to us all, and the Duchess not unkind to him, but very innocently. He was afterwards banished the Court for another reason, as was reported.”
Sir John Reresby’s Memoirs, August 5th, 1664, ed. Cartwright, pp. 64,65
“ ‘How could the Duke of York make my mother a Papist?’ said the Princess Mary to Dr. Bumet. ‘The Duke caught a man in bed with her,’ said the Doctor, ‘and then had power to make her do anything.’ The Prince, who sat by the fire, said, ‘Pray, madam, ask the Doctor a few more questions’ ”
December 28th, 1665. In a Fellow’s chamber in Merton College, Oxford, of George Fitzroy, afterwards Duke of Northumberland. —B. ↩
Admiral Sir Jeremy Smith, mentioned October 13th, 1665, ante, commanded a fleet in the Streights at this time, and another in the Channel in 1668. —B. ↩
Make bows, play the courtier. The reading, “make leagues,” appeared in former editions till Mr. Mynors Bright corrected it. ↩
Anthony Lowther, of Marske, in Yorkshire, one of the original Fellows of the Royal Society, who shortly afterwards married Margaret Penn, was M.P. for Appleby in 1678 and 1679. He was buried at Walthamstow in 1692. William, his son by Margaret Penn, created a baronet in 1697, married the heir of Thomas Preston, of Holker, Lancashire. The second baronet married Elizabeth, daughter of William, Duke of Devonshire, and their son, dying unmarried, bequeathed Holker and other estates to his cousin, Lord George Cavendish. ↩
The Royal Society did not meet until February 21st, having had a specially long recess on account of the plague. At the previous meeting on June 28th, 1665, “Mr. Hooke was ordered to prosecute his chariot-wheels, watches, and glasses during the recess.” At the meeting of March 14th, “The President inquiring into the employments in which the members of the Society had been engaged during their long recess, several of those who were present gave some account thereof, viz., Dr. Wilkins and Mr. Hooke, of the business of the chariots, viz., that after great variety of trials they conceived that they brought it to a good issue, the defects found since the chariot came to London being thought easy to remedy,” etc. (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 66). ↩
Sir George Ent, M.D., F.R.S. (1604–1689), President of the College of Physicians, 1670–75, 1682–1684. He was knighted by Charles II in 1665, in the Harveian Museum, immediately after the delivery of his Anatomy Lectures. His last publication was entitled Animadversiones in Malachiæ Thrustoni, M.D. Diatribam de Respirationis usu primario, London, 1672, 8vo (Munk’s Roll of the College of Physicians, vol. i, p. 223). Died 1689. ↩
From the Domestic State Papers in the Public Record Office, London. Page 327, Entry Book No. 105 of the Protector Oliver’s Council of State.
Ordered by the Council, Thursday, August 7th, 1656, “That passes be graunted to goe beyond ye Seas to ye p’sons following, vizt To John Pepys and his man wth necessaryes for Holland, being on the desire of Mr Samll Pepys.”
Probably this was a later journey of Pepys’ father to Holland, as Pepys says here he was a little boy then. —M. B. ↩
Rumball is mentioned on several occasions in the Diary. OnOctober 29th, 1660 (vol. i, p. 270), Pepys praises his claret, and on December 8th, 1661 (vol. ii, p. 151), a great christening of Rumball’s child (Charles) is mentioned. Since these passages were printed the editor has been obligingly informed as to this worthy by Sir Horace Rumbold, Bart., G.C.M.G., H.B.M. Minister at the Hague. The forms Rumball and Rumbell given by Pepys are corruptions of the correct name, which was Rumbold. William Rumbold entered the office of the Great Wardrobe in 1629, attended Charles I all through the Civil War till Naseby, where he was engaged, together with his father, Thomas Rumbold, afterwards taken prisoner by the Parliamentary forces, and during the period of the Commonwealth he rendered considerable service to the royal cause. He acted as Secretary to the Secret Council which was kept up in England by Charles II during his exile, and among the Clarendon Papers at Oxford there are numerous letters from him written to the king, Lord Chancellor Hyde, Ormonde, and others. At the Restoration he became Comptroller of the Great Wardrobe and Surveyor-General of the Customs. He died May 27th, 1667, at his house at Parson’s Green, Fulham, where he is buried in the chancel of All Saints’ Church with his wife Mary, daughter of William Barclay, Esquire of the Body to Charles I. This distinguished royalist was an ancestor of Sir Horace Rumbold, who has contributed to the Transactions of the Royal Historical Society Notes on the History of the Family of Rumbold in the Seventeenth Century (N.S., vol. vi, p. 145). Sir Horace mentions the Colonel Henry Norwood referred to in the text as one of those friends who spoke of William Rumbold with great affection. ↩
The following summary of the deaths from the plague of 1665, in the parish of St. Olave’s, Hart Street, was extracted from the register by the Rev. C. Murray, and printed in the Gentleman’s Magazine, October, 1845: In July, 4; August, 22; September, 63; October, 54; November, 18; December, 5. Of these, there were buried in the churchyard, 98; in the new churchyard, 42; in vaults, 12; in the church, 7; in the chancel, 1. Buried, places of interment not specified, 166. Total, 326. No wonder that Pepys felt nervous on first entering the church after the sickness abated. —B. ↩
The dredger was probably the drageoir of France; in low Latin, dragerium, or drageria, in which comfits (dragées) were kept. Roquefort says, “The ladies wore a little spice-box, in shape like a watch, to carry dragées, and it was called a drageoir.” The custom continued certainly till the middle of the last century. Old Palsgrave, in his Eclaircissement de la Langue Françayse, gives “dradge” as spice, rendering it by the French word dragée. Chaucer says, of his Doctor of Physic,
“Full ready hadde he his Apothecaries To send him dragges, and his lattuaries.”
The word sometimes may have signified the pounded condiments in which our forefathers delighted. It is worth notice, that “dragge” was applied to a grain in the eastern counties, though not exclusively there, appearing to denote mixed grain. Bishop Kennett tells us that “dredge mault is mault made up of oats, mixed with barley, of which they make an excellent, freshe, quiete sort of drinke, in Staffordshire.” The dredger is still commonly used in our kitchen. —B. ↩
It was proclaimed by the Herald-at-Arms, and two of his brethren. His Majesty’s Sergeants-at-Arms, with other usual officers (with his Majesty’s trumpeters attending), before his royal palace at Whitehall; and afterwards (the Lord Mayor and his brethren assisting) at Temple Bar, and other the usual parts of the city (The London Gazette, February 8th–12th, 1665–6. —B. ↩
John Hayls, or Hales, a portrait-painter “remarkable for copying Vandyke well, and for being a rival of Lely.” Pepys employed him to paint portraits of himself, his wife, and his father. ↩
It was the fashion at this time to be painted as St. Catherine, in compliment to the queen. ↩
This is supposed to be intended for the famous Will’s Coffee House in Covent Garden. ↩
The book purchased by Pepys is entitled, An Interpretation of the Number 666, wherein not only the manner how this Number ought to be interpreted is clearly proved and demonstrated; but it is also showed that this number is an exquisite and perfect character, truly, exactly, and essentially describing that state of Government to which all other notes of Antichrist doe agree. With all known objections solidly and fully answered, that can be materially made against it. By Francis Potter, B.D., Oxford, 1642, 4to. A copy of this work in the British Museum contains the bookplate of “William Hewer, of Clapham, in the county of Surrey, Esq., 1699.” See November 4th and 10th, 1666, post. —B. ↩
John Ogilby’s Entertainment of Charles II in his Passage through the City of London to his Coronation was published by the king’s command in 1662—a splendid volume with plates by Hollar. His translation of Aesop was published in 1651 and 1658; but it was probably the illustrated edition issued in 1665 which Pepys bought. The lottery took place at the old theatre between Lincoln’s Inn Fields and Vere Street. ↩
Afterwards the famous Sir Christopher Wren. He was one of the mainstays of the Royal Society. ↩
William Child, Doctor of Music, born at Bristol in 1604, and educated in the choir of the cathedral under Elway Bevin. In 1636 he was appointed one of the organists of St. George’s Chapel at Windsor. After the Restoration he was appointed “Chanter of the King’s Chapel at Whitehall,” and one of the organists. He died on March 23rd, 1696–7, in the ninety-first year of his age, and was buried in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor (Rimbault’s Old Cheque Book of the Chapel Royal, p. 226). ↩
Sir Henry Halford wrote “An Account of what appeared on opening the Coffin of K. Charles I at Windsor,” 1813, which was reprinted in his Essays and Orations, 1831, 1842. ↩
Matthew Wren, eldest son of the Bishop of Ely, of both his names, M.P. for St. Michael’s, 1661, and made secretary to Lord Clarendon, after whose fall he filled a similar office under the Duke of York, till his death in 1672. According to Pepys’s “Signs Manual,” Wren was mortally wounded in the battle of Solebay. He was one of the earliest members of the Royal Society, and published two tracts in answer to Harrington’s Oceana. —B. ↩
The king took possession of Audley End the following autumn, but the conveyance of the estate was not executed till May 8th, 1699; of the purchase-money, which was £50,000, £20,000 remained on mortgage of the Hearth Tax in Ireland; and, in 1701, Henry Howard, fifth Earl of Suffolk, was allowed by the Crown, upon the debt being cancelled, to reestablish himself in the seat of his ancestors. It seems very doubtful whether the interest of the mortgage was ever received by the Suffolk family. —B. ↩
William Castell wrote to the Navy Commissioners on February 17th, 1665–66, to inform them that the Defiance had gone to Longreach, and again, on February 22nd, to say that Mr. Grey had no masts large enough for the new ship. Sir William Batten on March 29th asked for the consent of the Board to bring the Defiance into dock (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1665–66, pp. 252, 262, 324). ↩
One of the City Members in the Oxford and Westminster Parliaments. See more of him in the Notes, by Scott, to Absalom and Achitophel; in which poem he is introduced under the designation of “railing Rabsheka.” —B. ↩
Robert and William Shotterel both belonged to the King’s Company at the opening of their new theatre in 1663. One of them, called by Downes a good actor, had been quartermaster to the troop of horse in which Hart was serving as lieutenant and Burt as cornet under Charles I’s standard; but nothing further is recorded of his merits or career. Pepys refers to Robert Shotterel, who, it appears, was living in Playhouse Yard, Drury Lane, 1681–84. —B. ↩
John Troutbecke in 1661 was surgeon to the Life Guards, commanded by the Duke of Albemarle. ↩
Donna Luiza, the Queen Regent of Portugal. She was daughter of the Duke de Medina Sidonia and widow of Juan IV. The Court wore the deepest mourning on this occasion. The ladies were directed to wear their hair plain, and to appear without spots on their faces, the disfiguring fashion of patching having just been introduced. —Strickland’s Queens of England, vol. viii, p. 362 ↩
Jermyn Street and St. Alban’s Market, which was afterwards called St. James’s Market.
“A large place with a commodious Market House in the midst, filled with Butchers’ shambles, besides the Stalls in the Marketplace for country Butchers, Higglers, and the like; being a market now (1720) grown to great account, and much resorted unto, as being well served with good provisions.”
Among the Rawlinson MSS. is a memorandum of this loan of £1,900, dated April 3rd, 1666. ↩
Pepys did not finish his setting of Ben Jonson’s song,
“It is decreed—nor shall thy fate, O Rome! Resist my vow, though hills were set on hills,”
until November 11th, 1666. The original is preserved in the Pepysian Library. ↩
Parliament was summoned to meet on the 23rd April. ↩
Sir E. Walker, Garter King at Arms, in 1644 gave a grant of arms gratis to Thomas Chiffinch, one of the pages of his Majesty’s Bedchamber, Keeper of his private Closet, and Comptroller of the Excise. His brother William (whose daughter Barbara married Edward Villiers, first Earl of Jersey) appears to have succeeded to the two first-named appointments, and became a great favourite with the king, whom he survived. He died April 6th, 1666, and was buried on the 10th in Westminster Abbey. There is a portrait of William Chiffinch at Gorhambury. —B. ↩
Richard Sterne, Bishop of Carlisle, elected Archbishop of York, 1664. Died June 18th, 1683. ↩
Richard Cromwell subsequently returned to England, and resided in strict privacy at Cheshunt for some years before his death in 1712. ↩
This picture was bought by Mr. Peter Cunningham at the sale of the Pepys-Cockerell collection in 1848, in the catalogue of which it was described as “Portrait of a Musician,” and was exhibited at the Manchester Art Treasures Exhibition, 1857. It was purchased by the trustees of the National Portrait Gallery in 1866. Pepys is represented in a gown “which I hired to be drawn in; a morning gown,” and holding in his left hand a piece of music, his own composition, with the words, “Beauty retire.” An etching from this picture is given as the frontispiece to the first volume of this work (see post, 13th inst., where we are informed that the landscape background was painted out by Pepys’s wish). There is a similar picture belonging to Mr. Hawes, of Kensington, which Mr. George Scharf, C.B., the Keeper of the National Portrait Gallery, thinks is either a replica or a good old copy. ↩
John Creed was selected as a member of council at this meeting. ↩
Margaret Lowther subsequently married John Holmes, afterwards knighted. —B. ↩
These portraits of the Admirals by Sir Peter Lely are at present at Greenwich Hospital. They were exhibited at the Naval Exhibition, 1891. Pepys does not mention Sir John Lawson. ↩
The columna rostrata erected in the Forum to C. Duilius, who obtained a triumph for the first naval victory over the Carthaginians, B.C. 261. Part of the column was discovered in the ruins of the Forum near the Arch of Septimius, and transferred to the Capitol. —B. ↩
This is the first mention of Pepys’s buying prints. —B. ↩
Sir Thomas Ridley, a native of Ely. He was a Master in Chancery, and author of A View of the Civil and Ecclesiastical Law, published at Oxford in 1607, and frequently reprinted. He died 1626. —M. B. ↩
This book, which has frequently been reprinted, was written by Roger de Rabutin, Comte de Bussy, for the amusement of his mistress, Madame de Montglas, and consists of sketches of the chief ladies of the court, in which he libelled friends and foes alike. These circulated in manuscript, and were printed at Liège in 1665. Louis XIV was so much annoyed with the book that he sent the author to the Bastille for over a year. ↩
Sir Walter Scott observes, in his Life of Dryden, that the romances of Calprenede and Scudéry, those ponderous and unmerciful folios, now consigned to oblivion, were, in their day, not only universally read and admired, but supposed to furnish the most perfect models of gallantry and heroism. Dr. Johnson read them all. “I have,” says Mrs. Chapone, “and yet I am still alive, dragged through Le Grand Cyrus, in twelve huge volumes; Cleopatra, in eight or ten; Ibrahim, Clelie, and some others, whose names, as well as all the rest of them, I have forgotten” (Letters to Mrs. Carter). No wonder that Pepys sat on thorns, when his wife began to recite Le Grand Cyrus in the coach, “and trembled at the impending tale.” —B. ↩
There appears to be some error in these figures. —B. ↩
Dick Shore or Duck Shore, Limehouse (see note 881). ↩
In the margin of the MS. is this note: “This of Mr. Homewood ought to come in upon the first of June.” ↩
Robert, Lord Bruce, succeeded his father as Earl of Elgin, December 21st, 1663; created Earl of Aylesbury, March 18th, 1665. Died October 20th, 1685. ↩
Of Ravensworth Castle, Durham, succeeded his grandfather, the first baronet, 1650. He had three daughters. Died 1697. —B. ↩
Evelyn was in his garden when he heard the guns, and be at once set off to Rochester and the coast, but he found that nothing had been heard at Deale (see his Diary, June 1st, 1666). ↩
Sir Joseph Jordan, in a letter to Sir William Penn, dated “Royal Oak, June 5th,” 1666, writes:
“It is believed, that if Prince Rupert had been with us the first day, the enemy could not have escaped. But we must submit to the all-seeing Providence, who knows what is best for us. It is my part to praise my God that hath delivered me and this ship wonderfully, after so many days’ battle; the greatest passes, I think, that ever was fought at sea.”
A loyal officer in the army of Charles I, afterwards secretary to Anne Hyde, Duchess of York. His grandson, of the same name, was author of some plays and poems, and died in 1738. —B. ↩
Ranger of Richmond Park. He was brother-in-law to the Edward Montagu killed at Bergen. —B. ↩
John Coppin. He commanded the St. George, a second-rate, in this bloody conflict. ↩
Brother of Sir Robert Holmes, and afterwards Sir John Hohnes. He married Margaret Lowther. ↩
Margaret Brook, married to Sir John Denham, May 25th, 1665. George Brook, third son of William Brook, Lord Cobham, was attainted and executed for his share in Raleigh’s plot. He left a son, William Brook, who, having been restored in blood, and made a Knight of the Bath, espoused Penelope, third daughter of Sir Moyses Hill, of Hillsborough Castle, in Ireland, the ancestor of the Marquises of Downshire, by whom he had issue three daughters: first, Hill, who became the wife of Sir William Boothby; the second, Frances, described, on the lettering of her engraved portrait, as “Lady Whitmore.” She was the wife of Sir Thomas Whitmore, of Bridgenorth, second son of Sir Thomas Whitmore, of Apley, Bart. Her daughter, Frances, married William, grandson of Sir George Whitmore, of Balmes, mentioned by Pepys. See Dryden’s epitaph on her in his Works (Scott’s edit., vol. xi, p. 150): the third was Lady Denham.
Their mother, Lady Brook, surviving her husband, remarried Edward Russell, youngest son of Francis, fifth Earl of Bedford, whose sister was Countess of Bristol. Hence the relationship, or rather the connection, between the two families; for Hamilton (Mém. de Grammont) mentioning that les Demoiselles Brook assisted at all Lord Bristol’s fêtes, calls them ses parents. —B.
The marriage of Sir John Denham to Margaret Brook took place in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Henrietta Maria Price, daughter of Colonel Sir Herbert Price, Bart., Master of the Household to Queen Henrietta Maria, and afterwards to King Charles II, maid of honour to the queen, who figures far from creditably in the Grammont memoirs. ↩
Sir Ellis Layton or Elisha Leighton (see note 2031). ↩
Charnock (Biographia Navalis, p. 163) mentions a Sir John Du Tiel, said to have been of French extraction and a knight of Malta. The Duke of York took Captain Du Tell into his service as Yeoman of the Cellar and Cupbearer. This most improper step of the Duke of York is alluded to in the Poems on State Affairs, vol. i, p. 36, ed. 1703:
“Cashier the memory of Dutell, raised up To taste, instead of death, his Highness’ cup.”
Louis de Duras, Marquis de Blanquefort in France, who served with the English fleet as a volunteer; Earl of Feversham in 1677. See note 2414. ↩
Professor Laughton (in the Dict. Nat. Biog.) shows cause for doubting the correctness of this statement. ↩
A comedy, by Thomas Middleton, acted at the Blackfriars, and published in 1661. ↩
This treatment seems to have been that of the Dutch populace alone, and there does not appear to have been cause of complaint against the government. Respecting Sir W. Berkeley’s body the following notice was published in the London Gazette of July 15th, 1666 (No. 69) “Whitehall, July 15. This day arrived a trumpet from the States of Holland, who came over from Calais in the Dover packet-boat, with a letter to his Majesty, that the States have taken order for the embalming the body of Sir William Berkeley, which they have placed in the chapel of the great church at the Hague, a civility they profess to owe to his corpse, in respect to the quality of his person, the greatness of his command, and of the high courage and valour he showed in the late engagement; desiring his Majesty to signify his pleasure about the further disposal of it.” “Frederick Ruysch, the celebrated Dutch anatomist, undertook, by order of the States-General, to inject the body of the English Admiral Berkeley, killed in the sea-fight of 1666; and the body, already somewhat decomposed, was sent over to England as well prepared as if it had been the fresh corpse of a child. This produced to Ruysch, on the part of the States-General, a recompense worthy of their liberality, and the merit of the anatomist,” (James’s Medical Dictionary, quoted in the Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lvii, p. 214). Sir William Berkeley was buried the following August in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Jean Baptiste Lulli, son of a Tuscan peasant, born 1633, died 1687. He invented the dramatic overture.
“But during the first years of Charles II all music affected by the beau mond run in the french way; and the rather because at that time the master of the court music in France, whose name was Baptista (an Italian frenchifyed) had influenced the french style by infusing a great portion of the Italian harmony into it, whereby the ayre was exceedingly improved.”
North’s Memoires of Music, ed. Rimbault, 1846, p. 102
John Bannister, composer of Choice Ayres and Songs and of the incidental music to several masques, tragedies, and plays, including Shakespeare’s Tempest. He was in 1663 appointed first violin to the king, which post he is said to have lost owing to his upholding within the hearing of his Majesty the superiority of English over French players. He started successful concerts in London “over against the George Tavern in Whitefriars” (Hueffer’s Italian and Other Studies, p. 247). In the London Gazette, January 2⅕, 1674, is the following entry: “Mr. John Bannister that lived in White Fryers is removed to Shandois Street, Covent Garden, and there intends to have the like entertainment as formerly on Tuesday next, and every evening for the future, Sunday excepted.” Bannister died in 1679 at the age of forty-nine. ↩
The island of St. Christopher’s or St. Kitt’s, one of the Leeward Islands, was discovered in November, 1493, by Columbus, who was so pleased with it that he gave it his own Christian name. It was never colonized by the Spaniards, but in 1625 was taken possession of by a band of buccaneers consisting of English and French. Many contentions took place before it became definitely a British possession. ↩
Corneille’s play (Pompée), one act of which was translated by Edmund Waller, and the rest by Lord Buckhurst, Sir Charles Sedley, and Sidney Godolphin. Published in 1664. ↩
Captain John Swanley, appointed to the York in 1664. ↩
See note 1959, October 24th, 1663. Prujean married at Westminster, February 13th, 1664–65, Lady Margaret, daughter of Edward, Lord Gorges, and relict of Sir Thomas Fleming. She subsequently remarried Sir John Maynard, serjeant-at-law. ↩
Mary, daughter of Colonel Hervey Bagot, of Pipe Hall, co. Warwick, born 1645; maid of honour to the Duchess of York, 1660; married, December 1 8th, 1664, Charles Berkeley, Earl of Falmouth, who was killed June 3rd, 1665, in the battle of Southwold Bay. In June, 1674, she took for a second husband Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, K.G., and died in childbed September 12th, 1679. Her name is usually given as Elizabeth, but this is a mistake. ↩
This division of the fleet was the original cause of the disaster, and at a later period the enemies of Clarendon charged him with having advised this action, but Coventry’s communication to Pepys in the text completely exonerates Clarendon. ↩
John Amos Comenius, a learned grammarian, born in Moravia, in 1592. Amongst other works, he published the play here mentioned, entitled, Schola Ludus seu Encyclopædia Viva (hoc est) Januæ Linguarum Praxis Scenica. This curious book contains the details of eight dramatic pieces, represented at the author’s school, at Patak, in 1654. Comenius died at Amsterdam, in 1671. —B. ↩
Robert Greville, Lord Brooke, died 1676. Evelyn mentions this garden as Lady Brooke’s, and describes it as “one of the neatest and most celebrated in England” (May 5th, 1654). Brooke House, at Clapton, was subsequently occupied as a private madhouse. ↩
There is some dispute as to the date of the introduction of the sweet orange into Europe. It appears that in 1492 it was cultivated in England, and in some parts of the country it has thrived in the open air even during the winter. ↩
Mr., afterwards Sir Thomas Chicheley, a Privy Counsellor and Commissioner of the Ordnance. —B. ↩
Henry Stone, painter and statuary, son of Nicholas Stone, master mason, died August 24th, 1653. If the portrait of Lord Coventry (died January 14th, 1639–40) was painted by him, the painting mentioned in the text was probably copied by Stone’s brother John. ↩
A proverbial expression when a person was either awed by threats, or overreached by subtlety, to give money upon a trifling or fictitious consideration.
As his conduct during the Great Fire fully proved, when he is said to have boasted that he would extinguish the flames by the same means to which Swift tells us Gulliver had recourse at Lilliput. —B. ↩
The practice of impressment was sanctioned by custom, and several acts of parliament were passed from the reign of Philip and Mary to that of George III, to regulate it. These laws have not been repealed, although they have fallen into abeyance. ↩
The first Roxelana was Mrs. Davenport (see note 1337 and note 1420). Mrs. Norton is not mentioned in Genest’s English Stage. ↩
Charles Stuart, born on the 4th; created Duke of Kendal; died May 22nd, 1667. ↩
Goring House was afterwards named Arlington House, and stood on the site of the present Buckingham Palace. ↩
To Isabella, daughter of Louis de Nassau, Lord of Beverwaert and Count of Nassau, natural son of Prince Maurice. She was sister of the Countess of Ossory; her daughter by Lord Arlington was afterwards first Duchess of Grafton. —B. ↩
“Lord Stafford rose from table, in some disorder, because there were roses stuck about the fruit when the discert was set on the table; such an antipathy, it seems, he had to them as once Lady Selenger also had, and to that degree that, as Sir Kenelm Digby tells us, laying but a rose upon her cheek, when she was asleep, it raised a blister; but Sir Kenelm was a teller of strange things.”
The manor of Lisson Green (originally Lilestone) was described at the end of the last century as “a pleasant village near Paddington.” The name Lisson Grove still remains. ↩
“Help, Help, O Help, Divinity of Love,” by Henry Lawes (see note 513). ↩
Enrico Caterino Davila (1576–1631) was one of the chief historical writers of Italy, and his Storia delle guerre civili di Francia covers a period of forty years, from the death of Henri II to the Peace of Vervins in 1598. ↩
This portrait is now at Greenwich Hospital, and an engraving from it is given here. ↩
Twickenham, where Dr. William Fuller kept a school. He was translated to Lincoln in 1667 (see note 128). ↩
Afterwards made Treasurer of the Navy, in conjunction with Sir Thomas Osborne. He was the eldest son of Sir Adam Littleton, of Stoke Milburgh, Salop, who had been created a baronet in 1642. He married Anne, daughter and heir of Edward, Lord Littleton, the Lord Keeper, and died in 1681, aged fifty-seven. Sir Thomas Littleton, the only son of this match, became Speaker of the House of Commons, and deceased, s. p., in 1709. —B. ↩
Sir William Penn’s instructions from the Duke of York directing him to embark on his Majesty’s yacht Henrietta, and to see to the manning of such ships has had been left behind by the fleet, dated on this day, 20th July, is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 406. ↩
This picture occasioned Pepys trouble long afterwards, having been brought as evidence that he was a Papist (see Life, vol. i, p. xxxiii). ↩
He had reason afterwards to alter his opinion of his “good master, the King,” by whom he was ruined (see note 552). —M. B. ↩
Pepys seems to have foreseen the fate of De Witt. —B. ↩
Thomas Howard, second son of Thomas, first Earl of Suffolk, created Knight of the Garter in 1625, and Earl of Berkshire in February, 1625–26. Died July 16th, 1669, aged nearly ninety. ↩
Sir Robert Moray, one of the founders of the Royal Society, who acted frequently as president before the charter of 1662, and as vice-president afterwards. ↩
Captain Willoughby Hannam, or Hanham, greatly distinguished himself in this action. He, his officers, and crew were saved, and he lived on till 1672, when he was killed in the action off Solebay. ↩
Walter Charleton, M.D., son of the Rev. Walter Charleton, rector of Shepton Mallet, in Somersetshire, was born in the rectory house, February 2nd, 1619, and soon after the breaking out of the Civil War he was appointed physician to the king. He was afterwards one of the travelling physicians to Charles II, and physician in ordinary to the king during his exile and after the Restoration. He was president of the College of Physicians in 1689, 1690, and 1691. He was a learned and voluminous author, and died on April 24th, 1707 (Munk’s Roll of the College of Physicians, vol. i, p. 390). ↩
In a letter from Richard Browne to Williamson, dated Aldborough, July 31st, we read, “It was the Breda, not the Rainbow, that was disabled, and her commander, Captain Saunders, sadly wounded” (Calendar of State Papers, 1665–66, p. 594). ↩
Lauderdale House and grounds, on Highgate Hill, are now open to the public and known as Waterlow Park. The house is used for refreshment rooms. ↩
In a letter from Richard Browne to Williamson, dated Yarmouth, July 30th, we read, “The Zealanders were engaged with the Blue squadron Wednesday and most of Thursday, but at length the Zealanders ran; the Dutch fleet escaped to the Weelings and Goree” (Calendar of State Papers, 1665–66, p. 591). ↩
Admiral John Evertsen; Michael Adrian de Ruyter, Admiral of Friezland; Adrian Banckaert, Vice-Admiral of Holland. ↩
Captain William Martin. He was buried in Aldeburgh Church. ↩
Southampton Market, established in 1662, and afterwards called Bloomsbury Market. It was never very successful, and was swept away about 1847, when New Oxford Street was formed. Market Street still remains. ↩
To spoom, or spoon, is to go right before the wind, without any sail.
Sea Dictionary
Dryden uses the word
“When virtue spooms before a prosperous gale, My heaving wishes help to fill the sail.”
In the church of St. Dionis Backchurch, amongst other memorials of different members of his family, is a monument on a pillar for Daniel Rawlinson, the person mentioned in the text. He was a London wine merchant, descended from the Graisdales of Lancashire, born in this parish, and died in 1679, aged sixty-five. He was the father of Sir Thomas Rawlinson, President of Bridewell Hospital, and Lord Mayor in 1706; two of whose sons, Thomas and Richard, LL.D., were well known in the literary world as eminent antiquaries and book collectors, though their extensive libraries were ultimately consigned to the hammer. Richard, who had been educated at St. John’s College, Oxford, will long be remembered as a munificent benefactor to that university (see Malcolm’s London, vol. iii, p. 438, edit. 1803). —B. ↩
The tavern was evidently selected to mark Pepys’s disgust at his wife’s ill-humour; but he probably did not venture to mention the circumstance on his return home. —B. ↩
According to the Little London Directory of 1677, Humphrey Stocks was a goldsmith at the Black Horse in Lombard Street; his successor was Robert Stokes. ↩
A proclamation ordering August 14th to be observed in London and Westminster, and August 23rd in other places, as a day of thanksgiving for the late victory at sea over the Dutch, was published on August 6th. ↩
John Dolben, born March 20th, 1625; educated at Westminster and Christ Church, Oxford. He was under arms for the king until the forces were disbanded. He took orders in 1656, and was made Canon of Christ Church at the Restoration; Dean of Westminster, 1662; Bishop of Rochester, 1666; Lord High Almoner, 1675; and Archbishop of York, 1683. He died of small pox at his palace, April 11th, 1686. The sermon (on Psalm 18:1–3) was printed, London, 1666, 4to. ↩
The Bear Garden was situated on Bankside, close to the precinct of the Clinke Liberty, and very near to the old palace of the bishops of Winchester. Stow, to his Survey, says: “There be two Bear Gardens, the old and new Places.” The name still exists in a street or lane at the foot of Southwark Bridge, and in Bear Garden Wharf. ↩
On the 8th August the Duke of Albemarle reported to Lord Arlington that he had “sent 1,000 good men under Sir R. Holmes and Sir William Jennings to destroy the islands of Vlie and Schelling.” On the 10th James Hayes wrote to Williamson: “On the 9th at noon smoke was seen rising from several places in the island of Vlie, and the 10th brought news that Sir Robert had burned in the enemy’s harbour 160 outward bound valuable merchant men and three men-of-war, and taken a little pleasure boat and eight guns in four hours. The loss is computed at a million sterling, and will make great confusion when the people see themselves in the power of the English at their very doors. Sir Robert then landed his forces, and is burning the houses in Vlie and Schelling as bonfires for his good success at sea” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 21, 27). ↩
This bank at Amsterdam is referred to in a tract entitled An Appeal to Caesar, 1660, p. 22. In 1640 Charles I seized the money in the mint in the Tower entrusted to the safe keeping of the Crown. It was the practice of the London goldsmiths at this time to allow interest at the rate of six or eight percent on money deposited with them (J. Biddulph Martin, The Grasshopper in Lombard Street, 1892, p. 152). ↩
Sir Francis Cottington, a younger son of Philip Cottington, of Godmanston, Somerset, was created by Charles I Lord Cottington of Hanworth. He became successively one of the clerks of the council. Chancellor of the Exchequer, ambassador into Spain, and Lord Treasurer of England under the two elder Stuarts. He died at Valladolid in 1653, s. p., and his body was brought to England and interred under a stately monument in Westminster Abbey, erected by Charles Cottington, his nephew and heir. See December 6th, 1667, for an account of his disinheriting a nephew for a foolish speech. —B. ↩
The town burned (see August 15th, ante) was Brandaris, a place of 1,000 houses, on the isle of Schelling; the ships lay between that island and the Fly (i.e. Vlieland), the adjoining island. This attack probably provoked that by the Dutch on Chatham. See note 2938, and Pepys’s remarks, June 30th, 1667, post. —B. ↩
These presses still exist, and, according to Pepys’s wish, they are placed in the second court of Magdalene College in a room which they exactly fit, and the books are arranged in the presses just as they were when presented to the college. —M. B. ↩
The patent for printing Bibles, etc., in London was held by Bonham Norton in the early part of the seventeenth century. The printer referred to by Pepys appears to have been Roger Norton, who was Master of the Stationers’ Company in 1678, 1682, 1683, 1684, and 1687. Amongst the State Papers is a “Petition of Roger Norton, printer, to the King, to be resettled in the place of King’s Printer, on his claim to which a suit is depending in Chancery. The place is now held by gentlemen who do not understand printing, and the work is done by those who were printers under Cromwell, and who, as permitted by him, still print Bibles and service books” (Calendar, 1661–62, p. 76). ↩
Philpot Lane, between Fenchurch Street and Eastcheap, where the Commissioners of the Navy had an office in 1623. ↩
The letter from Prince Rupert and the Duke of Albemarle to the king (dated August 27th, from the Royal Charles, Sole Bay) is among the State Papers. The generals complain of the want of supplies, in spite of repeated importunities. The demands are answered by accounts from Mr. Pepys of what has been sent to the fleet, which will not satisfy the ships, unless the provisions could be found “… Have not a month’s provision of beer, yet Sir Wm. Coventry assures the ministers that they are supplied till Oct. 3; unless this is quickened they will have to return home too soon. … Want provisions according to their own computation, not Sir Wm. Coventry’s, to last to the end of October” (Calendar, 1666–67, p. 71). ↩
François de Vendôme, Due de Beaufort, well known in the annals of France, was born in 1616, and in 1664 and 1665 commanded a naval expedition against the African corsairs (see October 11th, 1664). The following year he had the charge of a fleet intended to act in concert with the Dutch against England, but which was merely sent out as a political demonstration. He was killed at the siege of Candia in 1669. —B. ↩
Sir William Coventry wrote to Lord Arlington on the evening of this day, “The Duke of York fears the want of workmen and tools tomorrow morning, and wishes the deputy lieutenants and justices of peace to summon the workmen with tools to be there by break of day. In some churches and chapels are great hooks for pulling down houses, which should be brought ready upon the place tonight against the morning” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 95). ↩
The virginal differed from the spinet in being square instead of triangular in form. The word pair was used in the obsolete sense of a set, as we read also of a pair of organs. The instrument is supposed to have obtained its name from young women, playing upon it. ↩
Irongate Stairs, at the bottom of Little Tower Hill. ↩
A copy of this letter, preserved among the Pepys MSS. in the author’s own handwriting, is subjoined:
“Sir, The fire is now very near us as well on Tower Street as Fenchurch Street side, and we little hope of our escape but by this remedy, to the want whereof we do certainly owe the loss of the City namely, the pulling down of houses, in the way of the fire. This way Sir W. Penn and myself have so far concluded upon the practising, that he is gone to Woolwich and Deptford to supply himself with men and necessaries in order to the doing thereof, in case at his return our condition be not bettered and that he meets with his R. H.’s approbation, which I had thus undertaken to learn of you. Pray please to let me have this night (at whatever hour it is) what his R. H.’s directions are in this particular; Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten having left us, we cannot add, though we are well assured of their, as well as all the neighbourhood’s concurrence.
J. Hickes wrote to Williamson on September 3rd from the “Golden Lion, Red Cross Street Posthouse. Sir Philip [Frowde] and his lady fled from the [letter] office at midnight for safety; stayed himself till 1 a.m. till his wife and childrens’ patience could stay, no longer, fearing lest they should be quite stopped up; the passage was so tedious they had much ado to get where they are. The Chester and Irish, mails have come-in; sends him his letters, knows not how to dispose of the business” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 95). ↩
Allhallows Barking, in Great Tower Street, nearly opposite the end of Seething Lane. The church had a narrow escape. ↩
He forgot the shoulder of mutton from the cook’s the day before. —B. ↩
Evelyn writes in his Diary, under date September 7th: “Sir Tho. Gresham’s statue, though fallen from its nich in the Royal Exchange, remained intire, when all those of ye Kings since ye Conquest were broken to pieces.” ↩
The terrible disaster which overtook London was borne by the inhabitants of the city with great fortitude, but foreigners and Roman Catholics had a bad dime. As no cause for the outbreak of the fire could be traced, a general cry was raised that it owed its origin to a plot. In a letter from Thomas Waade to Williamson (dated “Whitby, Sept. 14th”) we read, “The destruction of London by fire is reported to be a hellish contrivance of the French, Hollanders, and fanatic party” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 124). ↩
“St. Faith’s under St. Paul’s” was situated immediately beneath the choir of old St. Paul’s. When the cathedral was lengthened eastward, about 1255, the old parish church of St. Faith was cleared away to make room for this extension. The “famous vault,” as Dugdale calls it, was then appropriated as a parish church. At the Reformation the church of the parish was removed to Jesus Chapel in the cathedral, but the crypt retained its old name. Evelyn writes of the burning of St. Paul’s: “It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heate had in a manner calcined, so that all ye ornaments, columns, freezes, capitals and projectures of massie Portland stone flew off, even to ye very roofe, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than six akers by measure) was totally mealted; the ruines of the vaulted roofe falling broke into St. Faith’s, which being fill’d with the magazines of bookes belonging to ye stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consumed, burning for a weeke following” (Diary, September 7th). ↩
St. Helen’s, or Watch-house Point, is in the parish of St. Helen’s, Isle of Wight, near Brading Harbour. St. Helen’s road lies off the coast. It is a roadstead with anchorage in from three to five fathoms, but dangerous on account of the shoals and rocks. ↩
The Duke of Albemarle had been sent for, and this desire of the king and his Council to have him in London shows the unique position which he held in the popular esteem. Lord Arlington, writing to Sir Thomas Clifford on September 4th, says:
“The king, with the unanimous concurrence of the Council, wishes the Lord General were there, and Sec. Morice is sounding him to know whether he would be willing to be ordered home. Is confident, could he see the condition they are in, he would think it more honour to be called home than to stay in the fleet, where he may not have an opportunity of fighting; he would have it in his hands to give the king his kingdom a second time, and the world would see the value the king sets on him. Wishes this to be urged upon him, only with the reserve that his Majesty leaves him to make the choice himself.”
The proclamation (dated September 6th) ordered “Gresham College, Bishopsgate Street, to be used instead of the Royal Exchange, which is burnt” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 104). At the meeting of the Royal Society on September 12th, “It was resolved that the society should meet the next time in Dr. Pope’s lodgings in Gresham College; and by reason that the former place of meeting for the society, and other rooms also convenient for the same, were taken up for the use of the Lord Mayor of London and the City, it was ordered that … a committee consider of another place for the future meetings” (Birch’s Hist. of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 113). ↩
On September 5th proclamation was made “ordering that for supply of the distressed people left destitute by the late dreadful and dismal fire … great proportions of bread be brought daily, not only to the former markets, but to those lately ordained; that all churches, chapels, schools, and public buildings are to be open to receive the goods of those who know not how to dispose of them.” On September 6th, proclamation ordered “that as the markets are burned down, markets be held in Bishopsgate Street, Tower Hill, Smithfield, and Leadenhall Street” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 100, 104). ↩
Nathaniel Hardy, installed Dean of Rochester December 10th, 1660. He died at Croydon, June 1st, 1670. ↩
Richard Gibson, victualling agent in the navy, etc. ↩
Captain Napthali Ball was made commander of the Bramble fireship in 1665, and removed to the Success at the end of the same year. ↩
Eldest son of Hugh Clifford, Esq., of Ugbrooke, M.P. for Totnes, 1661, and knighted for his conduct in the sea-fight, 1665. After filling several high offices, he was, in 1672, created Baron Clifford of Chudleigh, and constituted High Treasurer, which place he resigned the following year, a few months before his death. —B. ↩
He had been Clerk of the Spicery to Charles I, and after the Restoration was Clerk to the Board of Green Cloth. Evelyn mentions his marriage (Diary, November 17th, 1651), “I went to congratulate ye marriage of Mrs. Gardner, maid of honor lately married to that odd person Sir Hen. Wood, but riches do many things.” ↩
Dr. Stephen Goffe, Clerk of the Queen’s Closet, and her assistant confessor. He had been chaplain to Colonel Goring, but became, in 1641, a Roman Catholic. —B. ↩
“They swallow their own contradictions as easily as a hector can drink a frog in a glass of wine.”
Apparently Wagenaer’s Speculum Nauticum, published at Leyden in 1585, and translated into English by Anthony Ashley about the year 1588. —B. ↩
Admiral Michael Adrian de Ruyter did not die until April 11th, 1676. ↩
The king made a speech in which he alluded to the Great Fire, and pointed out the immense expense of the war, asking for fresh supplies. ↩
St. John’s, Clerkenwell, which is not far from Holborn Conduit, where Anthony Joyce kept the Three Stags. St. John’s is written S. Jones in Norden’s map of London. ↩
M.P. for the borough of Huntingdon. Elected April 12th, 1661. ↩
John Dugdale, born June 16th, 1628, chief gentleman of the chamber to Lord Chancellor Clarendon; Windsor Herald, 1684; Norroy King, 1686, when he was knighted. He died at Coventry, August 31st, 1700. ↩
Samuel Cromleholme, or Crumlum, headmaster of St. Paul’s School (see note 159). ↩
William Dugdale, born September 12th, 1605. He early devoted himself to antiquarian and topographical pursuits, and was appointed Pursuivant Extraordinary, with the title of Blanch Lyon, in 1638. In the following year he became Rouge Croix Pursuivant, and in 1644 Chester Herald. At the Restoration he was appointed Norroy King-at-Arms, and Garter in 1677, when he was knighted. He died February 10th, 1686. His Origines Juridiciales, or Historical Memorials of the English Laws, Courts of Justice, etc., was published in 1666, but with the exception of a few presentation copies the whole impression was destroyed in the Fire. A second edition was published in 1671, and a third in 1680. ↩
This word was apparently of Evelyn’s own making. ↩
Thomas Thynne, born 1640, Envoy Extraordinary to Sweden. He was the eldest son of Sir Thomas Thynne, Bart., of Kempsford, by Mary, daughter of Thomas, first Lord Coventry, and on the murder of his cousin, Thomas Thynne, of Longleate, succeeded to all his possessions. He succeeded his father as second baronet in 1680, and in 1682 was created Baron Thynne of Warminster and Viscount Weymouth. He died July 18th, 1714. —B. ↩
The Court of Wards and Liveries was held at the end of Westminster Hall, opposite St. Stephen’s Chapel. The court was abolished 12 Car. II (see note 205). ↩
William Garway, elected M.P. for Chichester, March 26th, 1661, and in 1674 he was appointed by the House to confer with Lord Shaftesbury respecting the charge against Pepys being popishly affected. See note to the Life, vol. i, p. xxxii, and for his character, October 6th, 1666. ↩
Bishop Walton’s great work, published in 1657, entitled, Biblia Sacra Polyglotta, in six large folio volumes. Nine languages are used in it, though no one book of the Bible is printed in so many. It was printed by subscription, under the patronage of Oliver Cromwell; but the Protector dying before it was finished, the bishop cancelled two leaves of the preface commendatory of his patron, and others were printed complimentary to Charles II. Hence the distinction of republican and loyal copies. The former are the most valued. —B. ↩
As Sir John Minnes performed the duties inefficiently, it was considered necessary to take the office from him. See January 21st. ↩
Sir William Coventry’s letter of instructions to Sir William Penn, directing him to visit the fleet at the Nore, dated October 2nd, is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 422. ↩
The Canary Company of Merchants was incorporated by charter, bearing date March 17th, 1664, to trade with the seven islands formerly called the Fortunate Islands, and afterwards the Canary Islands. The House of Commons considered the company’s patent to be illegal and a monopoly; and in December, 1666, the Houses of Lords and Commons held a conference on the subject. In the end the Commons obtained their will, and an address of both houses was presented to the king thanking his Majesty “for causing the Canary Patent to be surrendered and vacated” (Journals of the House of Lords, vol. xii, p. 119). The trade was in consequence freed from all control. ↩
There are several references to this new fashion of dress introduced by the king, Pepys saw the Duke of York put on the vest on the 13th, and he says Charles II himself put it on on the 15th. On November 4th Pepys dressed himself in the new vest and coat. See notes, October 15th and November 22nd. ↩
Captain Du Buat, a Frenchman in the Dutch service, plotted with two magistrates of Rotterdam to obtain a peace with England as the readiest means of pressing the elevation of the Prince of Orange to the office of Captain-General. He was brought before the Supreme Court of Holland, condemned, and executed. He had been one of the household of the Prince of Orange who were dismissed by De Witt. ↩
“Proclamation (Whitehall, Sept. 13, 1666) ordering Oct. 10 to be observed as a day of humiliation and fasting on account of the late fire, whereby the greatest part of London within the walls, part of the suburbs, 80 parishes, with churches, chapels, hospitals, etc., are become one ruinous heap; also ordering the distressed state of the people to be earnestly recommended to general charity in collections to be distributed by the Lord Mayor of London as he sees fit.”
St. Margaret’s. Dr. Sancroft, Dean of St. Paul’s, preached before his Majesty at the Cathedral; Seth Ward, Bishop of Exeter, before the House of Lords, in Westminster Abbey; and Dr. Stillingfleet and Dr. Frampton before the House of Commons at St. Margaret’s, Westminster. —The London Gazette, No. 94. —B. ↩
Robert Frampton, a native of Pimpern, in Dorsetshire, educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and afterwards a student of Christ Church, and chaplain to a man-of-war. In 1673 he became Dean of Gloucester, and in 1681 bishop of that see; but refusing to take the oaths of allegiance to William and Mary, he was deprived, Feb. 1, 1690–1, and retired into private life. He died at Standish, near Gloucester, on May 25th, 1708, aged eighty-six years. ↩
See Life, vol. i, p. xxi, where the register of St. Margaret’s parish, Westminster, is quoted to the effect that Pepys was married December 1st, 1655. It seems incomprehensible that both husband and wife should have been wrong as to the date of their wedding day, but Mrs. Pepys was unquestionably wrong as to the number of years, for they had been married nearly eleven. ↩
The parliament voted this day a supply of £1,800,000 sterling. ↩
The timidity of the pigeon has caused the addition of a series of words to the English language, as, pigeon, a gull; to pigeon; pigeon-hearted, and pigeon-livered, the latter expression used in Hamlet. ↩
Evelyn describes the new fashion as “a comely dress after ye Persian mode” (see Diary, October 18th, 1666). He adds that he had described the “comeliness and usefulness” of the Persian clothing in his pamphlet entitled Tyrannus, or the Mode. “I do not impute to this discourse the change which soone happen’d, but it was an identity I could not but take notice of.”
Rugge, in his Diurnal, thus describes the new Court costume “1666, Oct. 11. In this month His Majestie and whole Court changed the fashion of their clothes—viz. a close coat of cloth, pinkt with a white taffety under the cuts. This in length reached the calf of the leg, and upon that a sercoat cut at the breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest six inches. The breeches the Spanish cut, and buskins some of cloth, some of leather, but of the same colour as the vest or garment; of never the like fashion since William the Conqueror.” It is represented in a portrait of Lord Arlington, by Sir P. Lely, formerly belonging to Lord de Clifford, and engraved in Lodge’s Portraits. Louis XIV ordered his servants to wear the dress. See November 22. ↩
Paul Rycaut (B.A. Camb., 1650; was appointed secretary to the Earl of Winchelsea when that nobleman went to Constantinople in 1661 as Ambassador Extraordinary to the Sultan Muhammad Han. He was afterwards consul at Smyrna, secretary to Henry Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, 1685–87, when he was knighted, and Resident at Hamburg. He died December 16th, 1700. The book referred to appears to be The Present State of the Ottoman Empire (see March 20th and April 8th, 1667). ↩
Apparently the parish of St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate, which escaped the Fire. ↩
Lady Diana Fane, daughter of Mildmay Fane, second Earl of Westmoreland, widow of Edward Pelham, Esq., of Brocklesby, in Lincolnshire, remarried John Bills, Esq., of Caen Wood, Highgate. Her only child, Diana, by her second husband, died the widow of Captain Francis D’Arcy Savage, May 23rd, 1726, and is buried at Barnes. Lady Diana Bills was at this time in her thirty-sixth year. —B. ↩
The King of Denmark was induced to conclude a treaty with the United Provinces, a secret article of which bound him to declare war against England. The order in council for the printing and publishing a declaration of war against Denmark is dated “Whitehall, Sept. 19, 1666;” annexed is “A True Declaration of all transactions between his Majesty of Great Britain and the King of Denmark, with a declaration of war against the said king, and the motives that obliged his Majesty thereunto” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 140). ↩
Francis Digby, second son of George, second Earl of Bristol. He was appointed lieutenant of the Royal Charles in 1666, and promoted to the command of the Jersey in the same year. He was killed in the sea-fight at Solebay, and Charnock (Biographia Navalis, vol. i, pp. 222, 223) speaks highly of his intrepidity. ↩
This word (now used only in the curtailed form of tar) was once common.
“The Archbishop of Bourdeaux is at present general of the French Naval Forces, who though a priest is yet permitted to turn tarpaulin and soldier.”
Evidently the concluding passage of Mother Shipton’s Prophecies, viz., “A ship come sailing up the Thames to London, and the master of the ship shall weepe, and the mariners shall aske him why he weepeth, being he hath made so good a voyage, and he shall say, ‘Ah, what a goodlie citie this was! none in the world comparable to it; and now there is scarcely left any house that can let us have drinke for our money.’ ” Quoted from the edition of 1641, which Prince Rupert might have seen. —B. ↩
“John Hubbard commanded the Return, the Helversome and Lyon in succession during the year 1665; in 1666 he was made captain of the Royal Charles, the ship on board which the joint commanders in chief, Prince Rupert and the Duke of Albemarle, hoisted the standard. The very conspicuous share borne by this ship in the victory obtained over the Dutch may naturally be inferred from the known active intrepidity of those two great men. And while their extensive minds were engaged in arranging and manoeuving the fleet under their command, surely no small degree of merit ought to be attributed to the captain of the ship in which they fought, who by his conduct and gallantry enabled them to transfer their attention from an individual object to the weightier part of their charge.”
For note on declaration of war with Denmark, see note 3018. ↩
The Archbishop defended by Stillingfleet was Laud, and the work referred to is entitled, A Rational Account of the Grounds of the Protestant Religion … being a Vindication of the Archbishop’s Relation of a Conterence from the pretended Answer of T. C[arwell]. London, 1665. ↩
Son of Thomas Killigrew by his first wife, Cecilia, daughter of Sir John Crofts, and maid of honour to Henrietta Maria. Born April 9th, 1637, and baptized in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, April 16th. He is called “young,” to distinguish him from his uncle of the same name, who was Master of the Savoy. He was Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York (1656), then to the king (1662), again to the duke (1666), and again to the king (1669). He was living in 1694, when he held his father’s place of Master of the Revels. ↩
Williamson stood for Morpeth, but was unsuccessful; Edward, Lord Morpeth, was elected on September 27th, 1666. ↩
Robert Austin of Tenterden was elected M.P. for Winchelsea, October 4th, 1666. ↩
In the instructions given to Sir Thomas Clifford (August 5th, 1666) to be communicated to Prince Rupert and the Duke of Albemarle, we read: “to tell them that the complaint of Sir Jeremy Smith’s misbehaviour in the late engagement being so universal, unless he have fully satisfied the generals he should be brought to trial by court-martial, and there purged or condemned.” The Duke of Albemarle answered the king (August 14th?): “Wishes to clear a gallant man falsely accused, Sir Jeremiah Smith, who had more men killed and hurt, and his ship received more shot than any in the fleet. There is not a more spirited man serves in the fleet” On October 27th H. Muddiman wrote to Sir Edward Stradling: “Sir Jeremy Smith has got as much credit by his late examination as his enemies wished him disgrace, the King and Duke of York being fully satisfied of his valour in the engagement. It appears that he had 147 men killed and wounded, while the most eminent of his accusers had but two or three.” With regard to Sir Jeremy’s counter-charges, we read: “Nov. 3. The King having maturely considered the charges brought against Sir Rob. Holmes by Sir Jeremy Smith, finds no cause to suspect Sir Robert of cowardice in the fight with the Dutch of June 25 and 26, but thinks that on the night of the 26th he yielded too easily to the opinion of his pilot, without consulting those of the other ships, muzzled his ship, and thus obliged the squadron to do the same, and so the enemy, which might have been driven into the body of the king’s fleet, then returning from the pursuit, was allowed to escape” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 14, 40, 222, 236). ↩
Thomas, Earl of Ossory, sat in the House of Lords as Baron Butler, but his creation in 1665 is not mentioned in Courthope’s Historic Peerage or in Solly’s Titles of Honour. In these books his creation in 1679 as Baron Butler of More Park, co. Hertford, only is mentioned. He died in 1680, and was succeeded by his son James, who himself succeeded his grandfather as second Duke of Ormonde in 1688. ↩
The proceedings on the 27th are not clearly stated. According to Clarendon, this bill was urgently pressed forward in the House of Lords by the Duke of Buckingham. The debate became most disorderly, especially on the part of its promoters. On the duke making the remark above quoted, Lord Ossory, not trusting himself with a reply in the house, challenged Buckingham privately. This the duke endeavoured to avoid, and was found in a place not fixed for the meeting. On the following morning he informed the house of the affair. Clarendon regards the whole as a “gross shift” on the part of the duke. Both parties were sent to the Tower. The bill was subsequently passed. See Lord Arlington’s account of the quarrel in Brown’s Miscellanea Aulica, p. 423, etc. —B. ↩
Jessemin (Jasminum), the flowers of which are of a delicate sweet smell, and often used to perfume gloves. Edmund Howes, Stows continuator, informs us that sweet or perfumed gloves were first brought into England by the Earl of Oxford on his return from Italy, in the fifteenth year of Queen Elizabeth, during whose reign, and long afterwards, they were very fashionable. They are frequently mentioned by Shakespeare. Autolycus, in the Winter’s Tale, has among his wares—“Gloves as sweet as damask roses.” —B. ↩
On October 24th Sir William Penn wrote to the Navy Commissioners from Sheerness, with “particulars of the accident befallen the Diamond, Greenwich, and Foresight”—“they are now afloat and their damages repaired” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 216). ↩
Sir William Bolton, Merchant Tailor; Sheriff, 1660. ↩
The “Warrant appointing Henry Glover keeper of the Royal Theatre at Whitehall, with the scenes, engines, etc., fee £30 a year from the money allowed for plays, etc.,” is dated November 21st, 1666 (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 278). ↩
The Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub, a comedy by Sir George Etherege, licensed for printing in 1664, and published in 1669. ↩
October 31st, 1666. “Humble petition of George, Duke of Bucks, showing, ‘That the displeasure of this Honourable House has been a greater trouble to him than anything could have befallen him in this business which has been the occasion of it.’ Likewise the petition of Thomas, Lord Butler, was read, showing, ‘That he being heartily sorry for the occasion he hath given their Lordships to be displeased at him, in the late quarrel he had with the Duke of Buckingham … humbly beseecheth their Lordships to restore him to his Liberty and their favour.’ Hereupon it is ordered, That the Duke of Bucks and the Lord Butler be released and discharged from their present and respective restraints.”
“M. de la Roche has been taken in the Ruby, a ship of 54 guns and 500 men, which was separated from Beaufort, and fell into the midst of the White Squadron, the colour of the flag deceiving him that it was French.”
Letter from Jo. Hayes to Williamson, dated September 19th, Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 139
Massinger’s Bondman, acted before the court in 1623, and published in the following year. Webster’s Duchess of Malfy was first published in 1623. ↩
The Serjeant trumpeter was Gervase Price. The year’s salary (which was not very regularly paid) for the serjeant trumpeter, sixteen trumpeters, and kettle-drummer, was £1,120 (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 446). ↩
An Interpretation of the Number 666, Oxford, 1642, 4to. The work was afterwards translated into French, Dutch, and Latin. It was written by Francis Potter, an English divine, born in Wiltshire, 1594, who died about 1678, at Kilmington, in Somersetshire, of which he was rector (Wood’s Athenæ). See February 18th, 1665–66 (vol. v, p. 226). —B. ↩
John, Lord Crew (see note 62); Sir Thomas Crew, his eldest son, second Lord Crew, 1679 (see note 165); John Crew, younger son of first Lord Crew; Nathaniel Crew, fifth son of the first Lord Crew, Bishop of Durham, 1674, succeeded as third Lord Crew in 1697 (see note 1415). ↩
Margaret, daughter and heir of Sir Matthew Mennes, K.B., and wife of Sir John Prettyman, Bart., M.P. for Leicester. —B. ↩
There was an actress of this name. She played Clevly, at the King’s House, in the Hon. Edward Howard’s Man of Newmarket, 1678. —B. ↩
“Nov. 9th. Between seven and eight at night, there happened a fire in the Horse Guard House, in the Tilt Yard, over against Whitehall, which at first arising, it is supposed, from some snuff of a candle falling amongst the straw, broke out with so sudden a flame, that at once it seized the northwest part of that building; but being so close under His Majesty’s own eye, it was, by the timely help His Majesty and His Royal Highness caused to be applied, immediately stopped, and by ten o’clock wholly mastered, with the loss only of that part of the building it had at first seized.”
A beverage consisting of ale mixed with sugar, nutmeg, and the pulp of roasted apples. “A cup of lamb’s-wool they dranke unto him then.” The King and the Miller of Mansfield (Percy’s Reliques, Series III, book ii, No. 20). ↩
The wife of John Temple, Sir Robert Viner’s chief clerk. ↩
The Rev. John Meriton (1636–1704), rector of St. Michael’s, Cornhill, from 1663 till his death, who is referred to on July 9th, 1665, was appointed Sunday lecturer of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields shortly before the Restoration. Miss Porter, the writer of the life of Meriton in the Dictionary of National Biography, considers him to be the same person as he who Pepys styles “an old dunce;” but the statement in the text that the latter was brother to the known Meriton seems to throw a doubt on this statement. ↩
The old Chapter House of St. Paul’s was also styled the Convocation House. See Sparrow Simpson’s Chapters in the History of Old St. Paul’s, 1881, p. 274. ↩
William Smith, originally a barrister-at-law of the Society of Gray’s Inn. He was a good actor, and highly esteemed by his fellows. He died 1696. ↩
William Croune, or Croone, of Emanuel College, Cambridge, chosen Rhetoric Professor at Gresham College, 1659, F.R.S. and M.D. Died October 12th, 1684, and was interred at St. Mildred’s in the Poultry. He was a prominent Fellow of the Royal Society and first Registrar. In accordance with his wishes his widow (who married Sir Edwin Sadleir, Bart.) left by will one-fifth of the clear rent of the King’s Head tavern in or near Old Fish Street, at the corner of Lambeth Hill, to the Royal Society for the support of a lecture and illustrative experiments for the advancement of natural knowledge on local motion. The Croonian lecture is still delivered before the Royal Society. ↩
At the meeting on November 14th, “the experiment of transfusing the blood of one dog into another was made before the Society by Mr. King and Mr. Thomas Coxe upon a little mastiff and a spaniel with very good success, the former bleeding to death, and the latter receiving the blood of the other, and emitting so much of his own, as to make him capable of receiving that of the other.” On November 21st the spaniel “was produced and found very well” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, pp. 123, 125). The experiment of transfusion of blood, which occupied much of the attention of the Royal Society in its early days, was revived within the last few years. ↩
For notes on the dances the brawls and coranto, see note 1652 and note 1653. ↩
James, second Marquis of Douglas, nephew to the Duke of Hamilton. ↩
Colonel Russell, brother of William, fifth Earl of Bedford (created Duke of Bedford in 1694), and uncle of the celebrated Lord William Russell. ↩
John Wilmot, second Earl of Rochester, born April 10th, 1648, succeeded his father in 1659. He was at this time a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the king. He died July 26th, 1680. ↩
Only daughter of James Howard, third Earl of Suftblk, by his first wife, Susannah, daughter of Henry Rich, Earl of Holland; afterwards married, March 4th, 1666–67, at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, to Edward Griffin, Lord Griffin of Braybrooke. There is a very fine portrait of her at Audley End, by Lely. —B. ↩
Anne, daughter and co-heir of Thomas Temple, of Frankton, in Warwickshire, by Rebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of Beddington, in Surrey, became the second wife of Sir Charles Lyttelton, who had been Governor of Jamaica, and lived to be eighty-seven. His widow survived him four years, dying in 1718, and had issue by him eight daughters and five sons. From this alliance the Lords Lyttelton descend. —B. ↩
“The Lord George Flemming, the Lord Peter Julius Coyet, ambassadors-extraordinary from the crown of Sweden, made their public entry through the City of London, on the 27th June, 1666.”
Pointer’s Chronological History of England, vol. i, p. 213
George, Lord Berkeley, had six daughters. The one mentioned here was probably the eldest, Lady Elizabeth. —B. ↩
William Chiffinch, pimp to Charles II and receiver of the secret pensions paid by the French Court. He succeeded his brother, Thomas Chiffinch (who died in April, 1666), as Keeper of the King’s Private Closet (see note, vol. v, p. 265). He is introduced by Scott into his Peveril of the Peak. ↩
Belonging to the Earl of Berkshire; afterwards purchased by Charles II, and presented to the Duchess of Cleveland, whose name is preserved in “Cleveland Row.” It was then of great extent, and stood on or near the site of Bridgewater House. —B. ↩
Pepys’s “old and most ingenious acquaintance,” Mr. Chetwind, died at the end of 1662 (see December 5th). ↩
According to the Bills of Mortality seven persons died in London of the plague during the week November 20th to 27th; and for some weeks after deaths continued from this cause. ↩
William Fielding, writing to Sir Phil. Musgrave from Carlisle on November 15th, says: “Major Baxter, who has arrived from Dumfries, reports that this morning a great number of horse and foot came into that town, with drawn swords and pistols, gallopped up to Sir Jas. Turner’s lodgings, seized him in his bed, carried him without clothes to the marketplace, threatened to cut him to pieces, and seized and put into the Tollbooth all the foot soldiers that were with him; they also secured the minister of Dumfries. Many of the party were lairds and county people from Galloway—200 horse well mounted, one minister was with them who had swords and pistols, and 200 or 300 foot, some with clubs, others with scythes.” On November 17th Rob. Meine wrote to Williamson: “On the 15th 120 fanatics from the Glenkins, Deray; and neighbouring parishes in Dumfriesshire, none worth £10 except two mad fellows, the lairds of Barscob and Corsuck, came to Dumfries early in the morning, seized Sir Jas. Turner, commander of a company of men in Dumfriesshire, and carried him, without violence to others, to a strong house in Maxwell town, Galloway, declaring they sought only revenge against the tyrant who had been severe with them for not keeping to church, and had laid their families waste” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 262, 268). ↩
“A Map or Ground Plott of the Citty of London, with the Suburbes thereof, so far as the Lord Mayor’s jurisdiction doeth extend; by which is exactly demonstrated the present condition since the last sad accident by fire; the blanke space signifying the burnt part, and where the houses be, those places yet standing. —W. Hollar, f. 1666. Cum Privilegio Regis.” —B. ↩
Hollar engraved, in 1675, A new Map the Citties of London, Westminster, and ye Borough of Southwarke, with their Suburbs; showing the streets, lanes, alleys, courts, etc., with other remarks, as they are now truely and carefully delineated; and the prospect of London, as it was flourishing before the destruction by fire. Sold by Robert Greene at ye Rose and Crown in Budg Row and Robert Morden at ye Atlas in Cornhill. A large sheet, 23¼ in. by 17½ in. In the Pepysian Library is a “Prospect of London and Westminster, taken at several stations to the southward thereof, by Robert Morden and Phil. Lea,” in eight sheets, 1677. This map was the result of a survey by William Morgan. ↩
Gombout’s Plan of Paris, on a very large scale, was engraved in 1642. It is of great rarity. A copy, which was in the possession of the Baron Walckenaer, was purchased for a royal personage, at his sale at Paris, in April, 1853, Lot 3028, for more than 1,000 francs. —B. ↩
It is possible that some tradition of this proceeding of Louis XIV may have given to Steele the hint for his story of the rival ladies, Brunetta and Phillis, in the Spectator, No. 80; a subject which has been well treated by Stothard: as also in a clever picture by Mr. A. Solomon, exhibited at the Royal Academy in the year 1853. —B. ↩
Planché throws some doubt on this story in his Cyclopædia of Costume (vol. ii, p. 240), and asks the question, “Was Mr. Batelier hoaxing the inquisitive secretary, or was it the idle gossip of the day, as untrustworthy as such gossip is in general?” But the same statement was made by the author of the Character of a Trimmer, who wrote from actual knowledge of the Court: “About this time a general humour, in opposition to France, had made us throw off their fashion, and put on vests, that we might look more like a distinct people, and not be under the servility of imitation, which ever pays a greater deference to the original than is consistent with the equality all independent nations should pretend to. France did not like this small beginning of ill humours, at least of emulation; and wisely considering, that it is a natural introduction, first to make the world their apes, that they may be afterwards their slaves. It was thought, that one of the instructions Madame [Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans] brought along with her, was to laugh us out of these vests; which she performed so effectually, that in a moment, like so many footmen who had quitted their master’s livery, we all took it again, and returned to our old service; so that the very time of doing it gave a very critical advantage to France, since it looked like an evidence of our returning to her interest, as well as to their fashion.” The Character of a Trimmer (Miscellanies by the Marquis of Halifax, 1704, p. 164). Evelyn reports that when the king expressed his intention never to alter this fashion, “divers courtiers and gentlemen gave his Majesty gold by way of wager that he would not persist in this resolution” (Diary, October 18th, 1666). ↩
Captain of the Lyon. He was a distinguished sea-officer, and brother of Sir Robert Jennings, of Ripon. He attended James II after his abdication, and served as a captain in the French navy (see Charnock’s Biographia Navalis, vol. i, p. 106). ↩
Richard Le Neve, lieutenant of the Lyon. He was made captain of the Phoenix in 1671, of the Plymouth in 1672, and of the Edgar in 1673. He was killed in the engagement with the Dutch on August 11th, 1673, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, where there is a monument to his memory. He was only twenty-seven years of age at the date of his death. ↩
John Hilton’s Catch That Catch Can, or a Choice Collection of Catches, Rounds and Canons for 3 or 4 Voices, was first published by Playford in 1651 or 1652. The book was republished “with large additions by John Playford” in 1658. The edition referred to in the text was published in 1667 with a second title of “The Musical Companion.” The book was republished in 1672–73. ↩
Sir Thomas Spert, Comptroller of the Navy in the reign of Henry VIII, and founder of the Trinity House, was buried in the parish church of Stepney. ↩
See note 3076 respecting the commencement of the troubles at Dumfries. On November 22nd Ro. Meine wrote from Edinburgh to Wilhamson:
“A proclamation is issued ordering all to submit within twenty-four hours, on promise of pardon, or then to be declared rebels, with all their abettors. An oath is to be tendered to all the county pledging them to aid in quelling this or any other insurrection; 800 are said to be near Glasgow, but they call every 20, 120. … They profess to fight for King and Covenant; their leader is James Wallace of Athens, whom they call the good man. Most of their captains are deposed ministers.”
The Rev. Joseph Glanvill (1636–1680) was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society on the 14th December, 1664. He published in 1666 Philosophical Considerations Touching Witches and Witchcraft, and most part of the impression was destroyed in the Great Fire. The book was reissued in 1667, and a fourth edition appeared in 1668 under the title of A Blow at Modern Sadducism. It was reprinted in 1681 as Sadducismus Triumphatus. One of the appendixes is an “Account of the famed disturbance by the drummer at the house of Mr. Mompesson.” ↩
This is the first line of “The Fairy Queen,” a song first printed in a book entitled A Description of the King and Queen of the Fayries, 1635. It is included in Percy’s Reliques, Series III, book ii, No. 25, and with the air is printed in the Musical Miscellany, London, 1729, vol. ii, p. 22. ↩
Apparently a translation of the French contre le gré, and presumably an expression in common use. “Against the grain” is generally supposed to have its origin in the use of a plane against the grain of the wood. ↩
The first brick laid after the fire was in Fleet Street, at the house of a plumber, to cast his lead in, only one room (Rugge’s Diurnal). —B. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of John Malet of Enmore, co. Somerset, and her lovers. She died July, 1681, a year after her husband, Lord Rochester. ↩
William, Lord Herbert, succeeded his father as sixth Earl of Pembroke, 1669. Died, unmarried, 1674. —B. ↩
They had quarrelled (see August 26th). She, perhaps, was piqued at Lord Hinchingbroke’s refusal “to compass the thing without consent of friends” (see February 25th), whence her expression, “indifferent” to have her. It is worthy of remark that their children intermarried; Lord Hinchingbroke’s son married Lady Rochester’s daughter. —B. ↩
Seventh son of the Duke of Ormond, created in 1676 Baron of Aghrim, Viscount of Clonmore, and Earl of Gowran. Died 1677, s. p. (see February 4th, post). —B. ↩
Of the lady thus sought after, whom Pepys calls “a beauty” as well as a fortune, and who shortly afterwards, about the 4th February, 1667, became the wife of the Earl of Rochester, then not twenty years old, no authentic portrait is known to exist. When Mr. Miller, of Albemarle Street, in 1811, proposed to publish an edition of the Mémoires de Grammont, he sent an artist to Windsor to copy there the portraits which he could find of those who figure in that work. In the list given to him for this purpose was the name of Lady Rochester. Not finding amongst the “Beauties,” or elsewhere, any genuine portrait of her, but seeing that by Hamilton she is absurdly styled une triste héritière, the artist made a drawing from some unknown portrait at Windsor of a lady of a sorrowful countenance, and palmed it off upon the bookseller. In the edition of Grammont it is not actually called Lady Rochester, but La Triste Héritière. A similar falsification had been practised in Edwards’s edition of 1793, but a different portrait had been copied. It is needless, almost, to remark how ill applied is Hamilton’s epithet. —B. ↩
John Mordaunt, younger son to the first, and brother to the second Earl of Peterborough, having incurred considerable personal risk in endeavouring to promote the king’s restoration, was, in 1659, created Baron Mordaunt of Reigate, and Viscount Mordaunt of Avalon. He was brought to trial and acquitted but by one voice just before Cromwell’s death (Quarterly Review, vol. xix, p. 31). He was soon afterwards made K.B., Lord-Lieutenant of Surrey, and Constable of Windsor Castle; which offices he held till his death in 1675. In January, 1666–67, Lord Mordaunt was impeached by the House of Commons for forcibly ejecting William Tayleur and his family from the apartments which they occupied in Windsor Castle, where Tayleur held some appointment, and imprisoning him, for having presumed to offer himself as a candidate for the borough of Windsor. Lord M. was also accused of improper conduct towards Tayleur’s daughter. He, however, denied all these charges in his place in the House of Lords, and put in an answer to the articles of impeachment, for hearing which a day was absolutely fixed; but the parliament being shortly afterwards prorogued, the inquiry seems to have been entirely abandoned, notwithstanding the vehemence with which the House of Commons had taken the matter up. Perhaps the king interfered in Lord Mordaunt’s behalf; because Andrew Marvell, in his Instructions to a Painter, after saying,
“Now Mordaunt may within his castle tower Imprison parents and the child deflower,”
observes,
“Each does the other blame, and all distrust, But Mordaunt, new obliged, would sure be just.”
Afterwards Sir Robert Sawyer, Attorney-General from 1681 to 1687. Died 1692. He had been admitted a Pensioner at Magdalene College, Cambridge, June, 1648. He was turned out of office by James II on account of his refusal to confirm Obadiah Walker in his headship of University College, Oxford, after he had turned Roman Catholic (see Reresby’s Memoirs). ↩
Sir William Turner, Lord Mayor, 1668–69, was father of Serjeant John Turner, Mrs. Turner’s husband. ↩
Henry Howard of Norfolk (1628–1684), second son of Henry, Earl of Arundel, was a considerable benefactor to the Royal Society, largely through the influence of John Evelyn. At the meeting of the society on November 27th, “It was ordered that Mr. Oldenburg attend Mr. Henry Howard of Norfolk at Arundel House, and acquaint him with the sense, which the Royal Society had of his great civilities and respects to them, which they intended also to acknowledge publicly when he should honour them with a visit at a meeting of the society.” On the following day, November 28th, “Mr. Henry Howard of Norfolk was elected and admitted, who also received the public thanks of the society for his respects to them” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 128). He was created Baron Howard of Castle Rising in 1669, and advanced to the earldom of Norwich in 1672. He succeeded his brother Thomas as sixth Duke of Norfolk in 1677. ↩
Sir Hugh Pollard, Bart., M.P. for Devonshire, died November 27th, 1666. The “order for a warrant to the Duke of Ormond, Lord Steward, or in his absence to Lord Fitzharding and the clerks of the Greencloth, to swear in Sir Thomas Clifford as Comptroller of the Household in the room of Sir H. Pollard,” is dated November 28th (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 298). ↩
Francis Willoughby, fourth Lord Willoughby of Parham, who was drowned. A letter from D. Grosse to Williamson, dated from Plymouth, November 27th, contains the following information:
“A Barbados ship reports that Lord Willoughby embarked thence last July with 5,000 men and 11 ships to retake St. Christopher’s, but ten ships were cast away in a violent storm; 400 or 500 men got ashore at Santa Tour, and are detained prisoners by the French.”
Of Hartshill, Hants; and of Henley, Somersetshire. He was created a baronet in June, 1660, and died about 1675. —B. ↩
The fire continued burning in some cellars of the ruins of the city for four months, though it rained in the month of October ten days without ceasing (Rugge’s Diurnal). —B. ↩
See November 7th. A fine impression of this now very rare print was purchased for the Duke of Buckingham, at Bindley’s sale, in 1819, for £79; and resold at the Stowe sale, in 1849, for £33. —B. ↩
The Catholic Apology was written by Roger Palmer, Earl of Castlemaine. In 1667 Dr. William Lloyd (afterwards successively Dean of Bangor, Bishop of St. Asaph, Lichfield and Coventry, and Worcester) published an answer, entitled, The Late Apology in Behalf of the Papists Reprinted and Answered in Behalf of the Royalists; a fourth edition of which appeared in 1675. Lord Castlemaine and Robert Pugh, a secular priest, wrote A Reply to the Answer of the Catholic Apology, which was published in 1668. A third edition of the Catholic Apology with a Reply to the Answer was published in 1674. Lord Castlemaine’s pamphlets were seized by order of the House of Commons. ↩
Lady Bath was Rachel, daughter of Francis, Earl of Westmoreland, widow of Henry Bourchier, Earl of Bath. She afterwards married Lionel Cranfield, third Earl of Middlesex. —B. ↩
Cow Lane, West Smithfield (now named King Street), was famous for its coachmakers. ↩
John Goodgroome, musical composer, was one of the king’s twenty-four fiddlers in 1674 (see list in North’s Memoires of Music, ed. Rimbault, 1846, p. 99, note). He was probably a relation of Theodore Goodgroome, the singing-master referred to at an earlier date (see June 25th, 1661). ↩
James, Earl and Duke of Cambridge, second son of the Duke of York, and one of the five boys who all died infants. He was given the title which his elder brother Charles had previously held. At the time when he was created K.G. he was only three years and five months old. He died seven months afterwards (June 20th, 1667). ↩
Sixth son of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire, educated at Magdalene College, Cambridge, born January, 1625–26. During the Civil Wars he adhered to Charles I, and suffered with his family. Knighted at the Restoration, and chosen M.P. for Stockbridge, and afterwards for Castle Rising. He was Auditor of the Exchequer, and considered to be a creature of Charles II, who employed him in cajoling the parliament for money. He was ridiculed by Shadwell as Sir Positive At-All in the Sullen Lovers. Four New Plays, by Sir R. Howard, was published in 1665, and Five New Plays in 1692. His Dramatic Works were published in 1722. He died September 3rd, 1698. ↩
Abraham Cowley, the poet, who died July 28th, 1667, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, August 3rd. ↩
A comedy by the Hon. James Howard, son of the Earl of Berkshire, printed in 4to, 1674. ↩
Nell Gwyn played Lady Wealthy, a rich widow. Her first appearance on the stage is supposed to have taken place in 1665 in the character of Cydaria, in Dryden’s Indian Emperor. ↩
Captain (afterwards Sir John) Chicheley commanded the Antelope, of fifty guns, in the Duke of York’s squadron in the victory of the 3rd of June, 1665 (Charnock’s Biographia Navalis, vol. i, p. 84). ↩
After the Great Fire the Excise Office for a time found a site in Southampton Fields, at the back of Southampton House (afterwards Bedford House), on the north side of Bloomsbury Square. ↩
John Turner, here alluded to, was the eldest son and heir of Sir William Turner, Lord Mayor of London in 1669, better known as the munificent founder of Kirkleatham Hospital, in Yorkshire, and whose monument is still to be seen in Kirkleatham Church, and in the hospital a likeness of him in waxwork, with the identical wig and band that he wore. In the east window of the hospital chapel also is a stained glass portrait of him in his mayoralty robes, and one of his eldest son. John Turner was brought up to the bar, and became a serjeant-at-law, and purchased an estate in the district of Cleveland. Besides his daughter Theophila, mentioned so often, he had issue two sons, Charles and William, from the eldest of whom descended the late Sir Charles Turner, of Kirkleatham, the second baronet of the family, and the last heir male of his race. He died in 1810. See an account of the family in The Genealogist and Topographer, part vi. —B. ↩
Sir George Mordaunt, of Massingham, Norfolk, the fourth baronet of his family, espoused Elizabeth, daughter and co-heir of Nicholas Johnson, of London, niece to Sir W. Turner above-mentioned, who is the person here alluded to by Pepys. She remarried Francis Godolphin, of Colston, Wilts (Wotton’s Baronetage). —B. ↩
Two thousand pounds of this sum went to Alderman Edward Bakewell for two diamond rings, severally charged £1,000 and £900, bought March 14th, 1665–66 (Second addenda to Steinman’s Memoir of the Duchess of Cleveland, privately printed, 1878, p. 4). ↩
Charles Porter was brother to Thomas Porter, who killed Sir H. Bellasis in a duel in 1667 (see note 1782). ↩
Probably John Temple, Sir R. Viner’s chief clerk. ↩
John Fenn, who is frequently referred to in the Diary. ↩
The Gazette of April 23rd–26th, 1666, which contains the following remarkable passage: “At the Sessions in the Old Bailey, John Rathbone, an old army colonel, William Saunders, Henry Tucker, Thomas Flint, Thomas Evans, John Myles, Will. Westcot, and John Cole, officers or soldiers in the late Rebellion, were indicted for conspiring the death of his Majesty and the overthrow of the Government. Having laid their plot and contrivance for the surprisal of the Tower, the killing his Grace the Lord General, Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Sir Richard Brown; and then to have declared for an equal division of lands, etc. The better to effect this hellish design, the City was to have been fired, and the portcullis let down to keep out all assistance; and the Horse Guards to have been surprised in the inns where they were quartered, several ostlers having been gained for that purpose. The Tower was accordingly viewed, and its surprise ordered by boats over the moat, and from thence to scale the wall. One Alexander, not yet taken, had likewise distributed money to these conspirators; and, for the carrying on the design more effectually, they were told of a Council of the great ones that sat frequently in London, from whom issued all orders; which Council received their directions from another in Holland, who sat with the States; and that the third of September was pitched on for the attempt, as being found by Lilly’s Almanac, and a scheme erected for that purpose, to be a lucky day, a planet then ruling which prognosticated the downfall of Monarchy. The evidence against these persons was very full and clear, and they were accordingly found guilty of High Treason.” See November 10th, 1666. —B. ↩
William Ashburnham, younger brother of John Ashburnham, and first cousin of the Duke of Buckingham. He was an officer of distinction in the king’s army during the Civil War; and, after the Restoration, made Cofferer of the Household to Charles II. Died s.p. 1671. He married the “young, beautiful, and rich widow” of James Ley, Earl of Marlborough, Lord High Treasurer of England, to whom she was third wife. She was daughter of John, Lord Butler, of Bramfield, by Elizabeth Villiers, sister of the first Duke of Buckingham, and therefore nearly related to William Ashburnham. A splendid monument to William Ashburnham, and to the Countess of Marlborough, with whom he lived happily for nearly forty-five years, is in Ashburnham Church. —B. ↩
The bibliography of the various “Advices” and “Instructions” to a Painter is somewhat extensive, and can only be shortly alluded to here. The poet Waller commenced the series with his Instructions to a Painter for the drawing of the posture and progress of His Maties forces at sea under command of his Highness Royal. Together with the battel and victory obtained over the Dutch, June 3, 1665. London, 1666. In the following year appeared Directions to a Painter for Describing Our Navall Business in Imitation of Waller, The second Advice to a Painter for drawing the History of our Naval Business, an imitation of Mr. Waller, The second and third Advice to a Painter for drawing the History of our Naval Actions, in answer to Mr. Waller. These were attributed to Sir John Denham, but it is doubtful whether he had anything to do with them. In Poems on Affairs of State, vol. i (1703), where the Directions are printed, we find this note in the list of contents, “said to be written by Sir John Denham, but believed to be writ by Mr. Milton.” Andrew Marvell’s Last Instructions to a Painter is dated 1667, and his Further Instructions to a Painter, 1670. The constant issue of “Instructions” and “Advices” attracted special attention, and The Answer of Mr. Waller’s Painter to his many new Advisers was published in 1667. Marvell wrote an Advice to a Painter on the Popish Plot, and a Second Advice to a Painter was written in imitation of Manell. In a broadside (1680), quoted by Mr. G. T. Drury in his edition of Waller’s Poems, 1893, satirical reference is made to the fashionable form of advice to the painters:
“Each puny brother of the rhyming trade At every turn implores the Painter’s aid, And fondly enamoured of own foul brat Cries in an ecstacy, Paint this, draw that.”
The series was continued, for we find Advice to a Painter Upon the Defeat of the Rebels in the West and the Execution of the Late Duke of Monmouth (Poems on Affairs of State, vol. ii, p. 148); Advice to a Painter, Being a Satire on the French King, etc., 1692, and Advice to a Painter, 1697 (Poems on Affairs of State, vol. ii, p. 428). ↩
It was called “A Bill for raising part of the supply for his Majesty by an imposition on Sealed Paper and Parchment” —B. ↩
Captain Willoughby Hannam or Hanham (see note 2914). ↩
John Wallis, born November 23rd, 1616, at Ashford, educated at Felsted School, Essex, and Emmanuel College, Cambridge, from which he removed to a fellowship in Queen’s College. In 1648 he was appointed Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, where he took the degree of D.D., 1654. He was one of the most distinguished Fellows of the Royal Society, and his Arithmetic of Infinites is said to contain the germ of future discoveries. He died at Oxford, October 28th, 1703. ↩
Captain Christopher Batters, of the Joseph fire-ship, was drowned in the Thames, and his body found some time afterwards (see Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 505, 506). ↩
John Hingston, composer and organist, pupil of Orlando Gibbons. In the service successively of Charles I, Cromwell, and Charles II. Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and in 1663 keeper of the organs. He is said by Hawkins to have been Blow’s earliest master. He died in 1683, and was buried in St. Margaret’s, Westminster, December 17th. His portrait was in the Music School at Oxford. ↩
The “Warrant to the Treasurer of the Chamber to pay to Henry Brookwell, musician on the lute, in place of Lewis Evans, deceased, £16 2s. 6d. a year for life for his livery,” is dated December 20th, 1666 (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 362). ↩
Henry Pierrepoint, second Earl of Kingston, created Marquis of Dorchester, 1645. Died December 1st, 1680. See an account of this quarrel in Lord Clarendon’s Life, vol. iii, p. 153, edit. 1827. —B.
“The Commons being in the Painted Chamber ready for the Conference appointed concerning the Canary Company, the House was adjourned during Pleasure, and the Lords went to the Conference, which being ended the House was resumed.” The Lord Chamberlain acquainted the House, “That there was an ill accident fell out when the Lords were at the Conference this day in the Painted Chamber, by reason of a quarrel between the Duke of Bucks and the Marquis of Dorchester.”
Explanations were made by both lords, who were sent to the Tower (Journals of the House of Lords, vol. xii, pp. 52, 53). ↩
Sir Alan Broderick died on the 28th November, 1680, and was interred at Wandsworth on the 3rd December, when his funeral sermon was preached by Nathaniel Resbury, D.D., incumbent of the parish. The following extracts from the discourse, which, though printed, is very scarce, may throw some light on the knight’s character, and, from their quaintness, are interesting.
“In the first place, therefore, I might be very well allow’d to begin with that usual head of panegyrick, where the subject could well bear it, viz., the quality of his birth and extract, and so give you his lineage in a long series of worthy and honourable ancestry, who from time immemorial had liv’d in the Registry of Honour in the Northern parts, till his own father, by the occasion of a noble trust, viz., the Lieutenancy of the Tower of London, came to add warmth to our Southern clime, and bless’d this place not only with his own and his religious Lady’s presence and virtues (whose names and memories are still fragrant in those odours of goodness wherein they have been so plentifully scented in life), but with a numerous and valuable progeny, amongst whom was this wonder both of greatness and goodness. … I will readily acknowledge (and why, indeed, should I scruple to own what himself with such repeated contrition and brokenness of spirit would to all sober ears so freely and heartily condemn himself for?) that a long scene of his life had been acted off in the sports and follies of sin. If I may use his own words, it was a pagan and abandoned way he had sometime pursu’d, scepticism itself not excepted. … He had for many years practis’d in the politicks of this nation, and having so nearly attacht himself to one of the greatest Ministers of State [Lord Chancellor Clarendon] that this kingdom ever knew (whose mistaken wisdom and integrity perhaps hath been since better understood by the want of him), made himself no small figure in the administration.”
The Lords Middleton are descended from Sir St. John Broderick, a younger brother of Sir Alan. —B. ↩
Mrs. Corey. See January 15th, 1668–69. Knipp is not mentioned by Genest as having acted in the play (English Stage, vol. i, p. 66). ↩
Captain Hogg wrote to Sir William Penn on December 27th that he had “sailed from Cowes on the 23rd, chased several vessels, and was chased by twenty sail, consisting of four Holland men-of-war, three merchant ships, etc., but escaped, and took a galliot hoy of their fleet” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 373). On the previous November 25th Commissioner Thomas Middleton reported to Pepys that Captain Hogg had brought into Portsmouth a privateer bound for France, laden with deals (p. 258 of the same). ↩
Captain Robert Robinson was sent in December as commodore of a squadron of six sail (the Warspight, the Jersey, the Diamond, the St. Patrick, the Nightingale, and the Oxford) to convoy the fleet home from Gottenburgh. On the 25th they fell in with a squadron of five Dutch men-of-war, of which three, including the admiral, were after a short action taken. Captain Robinson was knighted on December 12th, 1673 (Chamock’s Biographia Navalis, vol. i, p. 63). ↩
M.P. for Lincoln, made a Commissioner of the Admiralty, 1679. —B. ↩
This tragicomedy, which refers to the feudal custom styled the droit du seigneur, was acted in 1628, and printed in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Works, 1647. Dryden, in the preface to his Fables, says “there is more indecency in the Custom of the Country than in all our plays together, yet this has been often acted on the stage in my remembrance.” ↩
A mazer or drinking-bowl turned out of some kind of wood, by preference of maple, and especially the spotted or speckled variety called “bird’s-eye maple” (see W. H. St. John Hope’s paper, “On the English Medieval Drinking-Bowls Called Mazers,” Archæologia, vol. 50, pp. 129–93). ↩
There is a song called “The New Droll,” in a rare volume entitled The Loyal Garland, or a Choice Collection of Songs Highly in Request … Fifth Edition, printed for T. Passinger, at the Three Bibles, on London Bridge, 1686, referred to in Beloe’s Anecdotes of Literature, 1812, vol. vi, p. 90, and Halliwell’s Catalogue of Chap-Books, Garlands, etc., 1849, p. 106. ↩
This must be a landing-place, as no actual bridge existed at Blackfriars until 1760–69. ↩
Thomas, Earl of Arundel. The library was presented to the Royal Society on the advice of John Evelyn. Mr. Howard gave the Society all the printed books, of which a catalogue was printed; but the MSS. he divided between the Society and the College of Arms. Of the latter portion a catalogue has been privately printed by Sir Charles George Young, Garter King of Arms. In the year 1831 an arrangement was made between the Trustees of the British Museum and the Royal Society, the consent of the then Duke of Norfolk having been obtained, by which the Society’s portion of the MSS. was transferred to the Museum, where they are now preserved for public use, and known as the Arundel MSS. A very full catalogue of them has been published by the Trustees. About twenty years ago the Society sold the principal portion of the Arundel Library. ↩
H. Muddiman, writing to George Powell on November 15th, 1666, says: “Lady Denham is recovering; some have raised strange discourse about the cause of her sickness, but the physicians affirm it to have been iliaco passio” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, pp. 262, 263). The popular idea that she was poisoned is alluded to in the Grammont Memoirs, chap. ix. Lord Orrery, writing to the Duke of Ormond, January 25th, 1666–67, says: “My Lady Denham’s body, at her own desire, was opened, but no sign of poison was found” (Orrery State Papers, 1742, p. 219). ↩
In the “Bill against importing Cattle from Ireland and other parts beyond the Seas,” the Lords proposed to insert “Detriment and Mischief” in place of “Nuisance,” but the Commons stood to their word, and gained their way. The Lords finally consented that “Nuisance” should stand in the Bill. ↩
Professor Samuel R. Gardiner has kindly enabled the editor to identify this book. A copy of Ephemeris Parliamentaria, or a faithful Register of the Transactions in Parliament in the third and fourth years of the reign of our late sovereign lord King Charles. London, Printed for John Williams and Francis Eglesfield, 1654, is in the British Museum, and in the catalogue it is said to be edited by Thomas Fuller. A MS. note on the inside of the cover says that it was republished in 1657 under the title of The Sovereign’s Prerogative and the Subject’s Privilege. ↩
“Jan. 9. The Society meeting the first time in Arundel House, the president took notice again of the great favour, which Mr. Henry Howard of Norfolk had shown to the Society, not only in accommodating them with convenient room for their meetings, but also in presenting them with the library of the said house. The experiments appointed for the next meeting were (1) That of applying the strength of gunpowder to the bending of springs.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, pp. 138, 139
The Prince Royal, which bore the flag of Sir George Ayscu, Admiral of the White, grounded on the Galloper.
“Examination of George Purvis, master, and four other officers named, touching the surrender of their ship, the Prince, to the Dutch, on June 3, 1666; tending to prove that she was steering in according to orders when she ran aground; that Tromp brought a fireboat on each side to compel her to surrender, but that the flag was struck without the knowledge of the captain, Sir G[eorge] A[yscu], though one witness affirmed that he consented to its being struck. Jan. 10, 1667”
The work of Henry More the Platonist, entitled, An Antidote Against Atheisme, or an Appeal to the Natural Faculties of the Mind of Man, Whether There Be Not a God. London, 1653. Second edition, 1655. ↩
Anthony Lowther did not marry Margaret Penn until February (see 15th). The marriage licence is dated February 12th. ↩
The Indian Emperor, or the Conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards, Dryden, intended as a sequel to The Indian Queen. It was entered at Stationers’ Hall on May 26th, 1665, but not published until 1667. ↩
Captain Richard Kingdon (or Kingdom), Commissioner of Prizes and Governor of Excise. ↩
Dr. Edward Stillingfleet, Prebendary of St. Paul’s, 1672; Dean of St. Paul’s, 1678; and Bishop of Worcester, 1689. He died March 27th, 1699. His biographer sets down Cranborne, in Dorsetshire, and Ringwood, in Hampshire, as the sites of his schools. ↩
The preparatory school at Hertford was not founded until 1683. ↩
On this day “An Act for raising Money by a Poll and otherwise towards the maintenance of the present War,” and “An Act prohibiting the Importation of Cattle from Ireland and other parts beyond the Sea, and Fish taken by Foreigners,” were passed. The king complained of the insufficient supply, and said, “ ’Tis high time for you to make good your promises, and ’tis high time for you to be in the country” (Journals of the House of Lords, vol. xii, p. 81). ↩
Sir James Barkman Leyenberg, many years the Swedish Resident in this country. He is the person mentioned in the note to November 18th, 1660, as having in 1671 married the widow of Sir W. Batten (see note 796). —B. ↩
The ancient barony of De Ros, created by writ in 1264, was carried, with Belvoir Castle and other great possessions, into the family of Manners, by the marriage of Eleanor, sister and heir of Edmund, Lord de Ros (who died in 1508), to Sir Robert Manners. Katharine, only daughter and heir of Francis, sixth Earl of Rutland, married, first, George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and, secondly, Randal Macdonnal, Marquis of Antrim. On her death her son, the second Duke of Buckingham, became eighteenth Baron De Ros. He died without issue in 1687, and the barony remained in abeyance until the year 1806, when it was determined by the Crown in favour of Charlotte Boyle (Lady Henry Fitzgerald), who became third Baroness De Ros. The present Lord De Ros is the twenty-fourth baron. ↩
Sir William Montagu, second son of Edward, first Baron Montagu of Boughton, born about 1619, Attorney-General to the Queen, 1662 to 1676, when he was appointed Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. Removed by James II in 1686, and died August 20th, 1706. The Duke of Buckingham’s claim to the title of Lord Rosse was opposed by the Earl of Rutland. On January 31st “Mr. Montagu made a long argument to maintain the claim of the Earl of Rutland, and Mr. Solicitor made an answer on behalf of the claim of the Duke of Bucks” (Journals of the House of Lords, vol. xii, p. 97). ↩
Sir Peter Ball was Queen’s Attorney-General in 1662. ↩
Sir Heneage Finch, Solicitor-General, 1660–70. ↩
Sir William Scroggs, King’s Serjeant, 1669; Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, 1678–81. He died October 25th, 1683. ↩
The order in council is dated January 16th, 1666–67, and commences as follows: “Whereas it is found by experience that the office of Comptroller of his Majesty’s Navy, which being of ancient institution and exercised by a single person in times of less business, and when his Majesty’s Navy was much less, hath in these times of action so much business depending upon it, and many times in places far distant the one from the other, that it is not possible for one person to manage it as it ought to be for the good of his Majesty’s service; in consideration whereof, his Majesty hath pleased to direct that two assistants be added to Sir John Minnes, Knt., the present Comptroller of his Majesty’s Navy, and that the work and employment of that office be so divided as that each may manage a distinct part thereof, and be able to render an exact account of his performance, that so it may appear where the default is, in case his Majesty’s service suffer detriment through the undue execution of that office.” The order is printed in Memoires Relating to the Conduct of the Navy, 1729, p. 59, and in Penn’s Memorials of Sir Wm. Penn, vol. ii, p. 435. ↩
Philip Howard, Lord Almoner to Queen Catherine, and third son of Henry Howard, Earl of Arundel, who died in 1652. He was made a cardinal by Clement X in 1675, and died at Rome in 1694. He was generally styled the Cardinal of Norfolk. —B. ↩
Fabio Chigi, of Siena, succeeded Innocent X in 1655 as Alexander VII. He died May, 1667, and was succeeded by Clement IX. ↩
Pieces of “the Cross” were formerly held in such veneration, and were so common, that it has been often said enough existed to build a ship. Most readers will remember the distinction which Sir W. Scott represents Louis XI (with great appreciation of that monarch’s character), as drawing between an oath taken on a false piece and one taken on a piece of the true cross. Sir Thomas More, a very devout believer in relics, says (Works, p. 119), that Luther wished, in a sermon of his, that he had in his hand all the pieces of the Holy Cross; and said that if he so had, he would throw them there as never sun should shine on them:—and for what worshipful reason would the wretch do such villainy to the cross of Christ? Because, as he saith, that there is so much gold now bestowed about the garnishing of the pieces of the Cross, that there is none left for poore folke. Is not this a high reason? As though all the gold that is now bestowed about the pieces of the Holy Cross would not have failed to have been given to poor men, if they had not been bestowed about the garnishing of the Cross! and as though there were nothing lost, but what is bestowed about Christ’s Cross! Wolsey, says Cavendish, on his fall, gave to Norris, who brought him a ring of gold as a token of good will from Henry, “a little chaine of gold, made like a bottle chain, with a cross of gold, wherein was a piece of the Holy Cross, which he continually wore about his neck, next his body; and said, furthermore, ‘Master Norris, I assure you, when I was in prosperity, although it seem but small in value, yet I would not gladly have departed with the same for a thousand pounds.’ ” Life, ed. 1852, p. 167. Evelyn mentions, Diary, November 17th, 1664, that he saw in one of the chapels in St. Peter’s a crucifix with a piece of the true cross in it. Amongst the jewels of Mary Queen of Scots was a cross of gold, which had been pledged to Hume of Blackadder for £1,000 (Chalmers’s Life, vol. i, p. 31). —B. ↩
Dormitory. The French word was commonly used, and it was also anglicized as dorter and dortour. The latter word was used by Spenser (Faerie Queen, VI, xii, 24). “This is a very fine convent with a very fine dortoire.” —M. Lister, Journey to Paris, 1699, p. 131 ↩
Sir Walter Walker is referred to in the Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 463. ↩
Betty Hall. She was Sir Philip Howard’s mistress. Compare March 30th, 1667, and December 19th, 1668. —B. ↩
Sir John Suckling’s play was first published in 1646, having been acted at the Blackfriars. ↩
The passage between brackets is written in the margin of the MS. ↩
The report of “Examinations on oath of Capt. Page, commander, Barth. Peartree, master, Nich. Churchwood, chief mate, and two other officers named, as to the loss of their ship the Breda, by striking on the shoals off the Texel,” dated January 24th, 1667, is preserved among the State Papers (Calendar, 1666–67, p. 469). ↩
There is little reason to doubt that it was such as Evelyn describes it at a later time. “I can never forget the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming, and all dissoluteness, and, as it were, total forgetfulness of God (it being Sunday evening) which this day sennight I was witness of; the King sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, Mazarin, etc. A French boy singing love songs in that glorious gallery, whilst about twenty of the great courtiers and other dissolute persons were at basset round a large table, a bank of at least £2,000 in gold before them; upon which two gentlemen who were with me made reflections with astonishment. Six days after was all in the dust.” —Diary, February, 1685. —B. ↩
Antigua, one of the West India Islands (Leeward Islands), discovered by Columbus in 1493, who is said to have named it after a church at Seville called Santa Maria la Antigua. It was first settled by a few English families in 1632, and in 1663 another settlement was made under Lord Willoughby, to whom the entire island was granted by Charles II. In 1666 it was invaded by a French force, which laid waste all the settlement. It was reconquered by the English, and formally restored to them by the treaty of Breda. ↩
The passage between brackets is written in the margin of the MS. ↩
Annus Mirabilis; the Year of Wonders, 1666, an historical Poem. ↩
James Molines, Moleyns, or Mullins, one of a family of distinguished surgeons, born 1628. He was elected, November 8th, 1665, in compliance with a recommendation from Charles II, surgeon to St. Thomas’s Hospital as to ordinary avocations, and joint-surgeon with Mr. Hollyer for the cutting of the stone. He was afterwards appointed Surgeon in Ordinary to Charles II and James II, and received the degree of M.D. from the University of Oxford, September 28th, 1681. He died February 8th, 1686, and was buried in St. Bride’s Church, Fleet Street, where his monumental tablet still exists. This information is obtained from a valuable article by Dr. J. Y. Payne on the various surgeons bearing the name of Molines in the Dictionary of National Biography. ↩
Michael Nostradamus, a physician and astrologer, born in the diocese of Avignon, 1503. Amongst other predictions, one was interpreted as foreshowing the singular death of Hen. II of France, by which his reputation was increased. In the 49th quatrain of his ninth century, the lines:
“Gand et Bruxelles marcheront contre Anvers, Sénat de Londres mettront à mort leur roi,”
may well be applied to the death of Charles I. Some coincidences in modern times are also curious. He speaks of the “renovation de siècle,” in 1792, in which year, in fact, the French revolutionary kalendar took its rise. The landing of Bonaparte from Elba, at Fréjus, was supposed to be predicted in cent. x, quatrain xxiii:
“Au peuple ingrat faites les remonstrances, Par lors l’armée se saisera d’Antibe, Dans l’arc Monech feront les doléances, Et à Fréjus l’un l’autre prendra ribe.”
Jodelle’s clever distich on Nostradamus is worthy of a place:
“Nostra damus, cum falsa damus, nam fallere nostrum est, Et cum falsa damus, nil nisi nostra damus.”
As well as the reply by Nostradamus’s followers:
“Nostra damus, cum verba damus, quæ Nostradamus dat, Nam quæcumque dedit, nil nisi vera dedit.”
He succeeded too in rendering assistance to the inhabitants of Aix, during the plague, by a powder of his own invention. He died at Salon, July, 1566. —B. ↩
Roger L’Estrange, whose office it was to license the Almanacs, told Sir Edward Walker, “that most of them did foretell the fire of London last year, but hee caused itt to bee put out.” —Ward’s Diary, p. 94. —B. ↩
John Booker, an eminent astrologer and writing-master at Hadley. The words quoted by him from Nostradamus are (cent. ii, quatrain li):
“Le sang du juste à Londres fera faute, Bruslez par foudre de vingt trois les six, La dame antique cherra de place haute, De mesme secte plusieurs seront occis.”
Sir C. Wren, it is well known, took up a stone from the ruins of St. Paul’s having the word “Resurgam” inscribed, which he adopted. —B. ↩
Rear-Admiral John Kempthorne, a distinguished and gallant officer. His squadron was still in port on February 12th (Calendar of State Papers, 1606–67, p. 509). He was knighted in 1670, and in 1675 made Commissioner at Portsmouth, which place he represented in parliament. Died 1679. ↩
An Apology or Declaration of the Power and Providence of God in the Government of the World. By George Hakewill, a learned divine. Oxford, 1627. The work was frequently reprinted. —B. ↩
Lord John Butler was born in 1643, and in January, 1676, married Anne, only daughter of Arthur Chichester, Earl of Donegal. In April, 1676, he was created Earl of Gowran. Died s. p., 1677. —B. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, of which an alteration was produced by the Duke of Buckingham. The play which Pepys saw was probably the duke’s revised version, although it was not published until 1682. ↩
This song is not in Beaumont and Fletcher, as printed, nor in the alteration of the play by the duke. —B. ↩
“Captain Seely, captain of the fire-ship that deserted the Patrick, was this day (March 7th) shot to death on board his own vessel.”
Pointer’s Chronological Hist. of Engl., vol. i, p. 216
February 7th, “Hugh Salesbury to Williamson. A fire-ship which left Harwich with the St. Patrick, reports that she met off North Foreland two Dutch privateers; the commander of the St. Patrick indiscreetly boarded one of them, the other boarded the St. Patrick, and both grappled him so that he yielded, and was carried to Holland. The fire-ship, instead of boarding one of them, only looked on.”
Edward Rainbow, S.T.P., Bishop of Carlisle, 1664–84. He died March 26th, 1684, aged seventy-six years. ↩
Granger (Biog. Hist. of Engl., vol. iv, p. 190) describes an engraved portrait by Cooper, after Lely, of the Lady (Mrs.) Williams; but he describes her as the mistress of the Duke of York. ↩
Giovanni Baptista Draghi, an Italian musician in the service of Queen Catherine, and a composer of merit. He joined with Matthew Lock in composing the music to Shadwell’s opera of Psyche, produced in 1673. ↩
Like Hermit Poor in Pensive Place Obscure is found in The Phoenix Nest, 1593, and in Harl. MS. No. 6910, written soon after 1596. It was set to music by Alfonso Ferrabosco, and published in his Ayres, 1609. The song was a favourite with Izaak Walton, and is alluded to in Hudibras (Part I, canto ii, line 1169). See Rimbault’s Little Book of Songs and Ballads, 1851, p. 98. Both versions of the famous ballad of “Chevy Chase” are printed in Percy’s Reliques. ↩
The gondolas mentioned before, as sent by the Doge of Venice. See September 12th, 1661. ↩
“The name which is foremost in one’s mind, if one speaks of Italian music in the second half of the seventeenth century, is Carissimi, the last great representative of the Roman school, and himself the precursor and model of a number of great musicians in his own country, of Lulli in France, and through him of Humphreys and Purcell in England.”
F. Hueffer, Italian and Other Studies, 1883, p. 296
There are several letters from John Lanyon to the Navy Commissioners among the State Papers, in some of which he asks for money (Calendar, 1666–67). ↩
This must refer to Lord Orrery’s play of Henry V, acted at the Duke’s House on August 13th, 1664 (see vol. iv, p. 216). ↩
Henry, third son of Thomas, first Lord Coventry, Lord Keeper; after the Restoration he was made a Groom of the Bedchamber, and elected M.P. for Droitwich in 1661. In 1664 he was sent Envoy Extraordinary to Sweden, where he remained two years, and was again employed on an embassy to the same court in 1671. He also succeeded (with Lord Holies) in negotiating the peace at Breda here alluded to, and in 1672 became Secretary of State, which office he resigned in 1679, on account of ill-health. He died unmarried, December 7th, 1686. —B. ↩
The marriage licence of Anthony Lowther, of Marske, co. York, bachelor, 24, and Margaret Penn, spinster, 15, is dated February 12th, 1666–67 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 865). ↩
Perhaps the person called Vinnecotio, February 12th, 1666–67. There was a German organist and composer named Gasparus Vincentius, who lived about this time. ↩
Pepys records Mr. Weaver’s death on April 10th, 1667. ↩
Burnet wrote (History of His Own Time, book ii): “An act passed in this session for rebuilding the city of London, which gave Lord Chief Justice Hale a great reputation, for it was drawn with so true a judgment, and so great foresight, that the whole city was raised out of its ashes without any suits of law.” ↩
John Banister, who had been bred up, under his father, one of the waits in St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields, was sent by Charles II to France for improvement; but soon after his return he was dismissed the king’s service for saying that the English violins were better than the French. He afterwards kept a music school in Whitefriars, and died in 1679 (Hawkins’s History of Music). There were many complaints against Banister. Among the State Papers is a “Remonstrance (dated March 29th, 1667) of the king’s band of violins under M. Grabu, master of his music, against the fraudulent conduct of John Banister, who receives £600 a year for extraordinary services of the violins, and keeps most of it himself, compelling them to submit by threats of having them turned out of their places; several have been turned out without orders from the king or Lord Chamberlain” (Calendar, 1666–67, p. 593). ↩
Louis Grabut or Grebus, Master of the King’s Music. The “Warrant to Edward, Earl of Manchester, to swear in ⸻ Grabu as Master of the English Chamber Music,” is dated November 12th, 1666 (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 256). On the death of Charles II Dryden brought out a piece entitled “Albion and Albanius,” with machinery and decorations by Betterton, and music by Grebus. Mr. Lowe found a dramatic cutting at the Guildhall Library, consisting of verses, each stanza ending with the name of Grabu. Here is one:
“Each actor on the stage his luck bewailing, Finds that his loss is infallibly true; Smith, Nokes, and Leigh in a fever with railing Curse poet, painter, and Monsieur Grabu.”
Lowe’s Life of Betterton, p. 135
See also North’s Memoirs of Music, by Rimbault, p. 110. ↩
This was Francis Mansell of Ovingdean, and not Nicholas Tettersell, as stated in former editions of the Diary. The former was appointed “Customer Inward” in the port of Southampton, from which he received £60 a year. He petitioned the king about 1661 for rehlief, stating that he “was forced to fly for life, being one of the instruments of his Majesty’s happy escape, and has spent more in solicitation than the £60 per annum he receives from his small office.” After this he was granted a pension of £200, but this was allowed to fall into arrear. Mr. F. E. Sawyer, in his paper on Captain Nicholas Tettersell and the Escape of Charles II (Sussex Archaeological Collections, vol. xxxii), says, “As Mansell’s pension was £200 a year, whilst Tettersell’s was only £100, it would appear that the services of the former were considered by the king of more value than those of the latter.” See also Diary, May 23rd, 1660, and note 486. ↩
Entitled “An Act for Rebuilding the City of London,” 19 Car. II, cap. 3. —B. ↩
See Sir Christopher Wren’s “Proposals for rebuilding the City of London after the great fire, with an engraved Plan of the principal Streets and Public Buildings,” in Elmes’s Memoirs of Sir Christopher Wren, Appendix, p. 61. The originals are in All Souls’ College Library, Oxford. —B. ↩
“One Hubert, a French papist, was seized in Essex, as he was getting out of the way in great confusion. He confessed he had begun the fire, and persisted in his confession to his death, for he was hanged upon no other evidence but that of his own confession. It is true he gave so broken an account of the whole matter that he was thought mad. Yet he was blindfolded, and carried to several places of the city, and then his eyes being opened, he was asked if that was the place, and he being carried to wrong places, after he looked round about for some time, he said that was not the place, but when he was brought to the place where it first broke out, he affirmed that was the true place.”
Burnet’s Own Time, book ii
Archbishop Tillotson, according to Burnet, believed that London was burnt by design. ↩
The first fortification at Sheerness was erected by Sir Bernard de Gomme. The original draft is in the British Museum; see note 3303. —B. ↩
Woolwich stones, still collected in that locality, are simply waterworn pebbles of flint, which, when broken with a hammer, exhibit on the smooth surface some resemblance to the human face; and their possessors are thus enabled to trace likenesses of friends, or eminent public characters. The late Mr. Tennant, the geologist, of the Strand, had a collection of such stones. In the British Museum is a nodule of globular or Egyptian jasper, which, in its fracture, bears a striking resemblance to the well-known portrait of Chaucer. It is engraved in Rymsdyk’s Museum Britannicum, tab. xxviii. A flint, showing Mr. Pitt’s face, used once to be exhibited at the meetings of the Pitt Club. —B. ↩
In A Complete List of the Royal Navy in England in 1599 (Archæologia, vol. xiii, p. 30), No. 11 is described as “The Beare, of two sakers, of cast iron,” and No. 12 as “The White Beare, of three cannon, six demi-cannon, seven culverins, seven demi-culverins, two portpeece halls and seven fowler halls, all of brass, with five demi-cannon and three demi-culverins, all of cast iron.” ↩
Sir George Downing’s mother was Margaret, daughter and coheir of Robert Brett, D.D. His wife, Lady Downing, was Francis, fourth daughter of William Howard, of Naworth, and sister of Charles Howard, the first Earl of Carlisle of that family. —B. ↩
Money paid to men who enlist into the public service; press money. So called because those who receive it are to be prest or ready when called on (Encyclopædic Dictionary). ↩
From Poor Robin’s Almanac for 1757 it appears that, in former times in England, a Welshman was burnt in effigy on this anniversary. Mr. W. C. Hazlitt, in his edition of Brand’s Popular Antiquities, adds “The practice to which Pepys refers … was very common at one time; and till very lately bakers made gingerbread Welshmen, called taffies, on St. David’s day, which were made to represent a man skewered” (vol. i, pp. 60, 61). ↩
“Her skill increasing with her years, other poets sought to obtain recommendations of her wit and beauty to the success of their writings. I have said that Dryden was one of the principal supporters of the King’s house, and ere long in one of his new plays a principal character was set apart for the popular comedian. The drama was a tragicomedy called ‘Secret Love, or the Maiden Queen,’ and an additional interest was attached to its production from the king having suggested the plot to its author, and calling it ‘his play.’ ”
Cunningham’s Story of Nell Gwyn, ed. 1892, pp. 38, 39
John Speed’s Chronicle (“The History of Great Britaine under the Conquests of ye Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans”). ↩
Westhorpe, in Suffolk, originally the magnificent residence of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; it was probably afterwards granted by the Crown to the Duke of Buckingham. The house has long since been demolished. —B. ↩
Two of our greatest poets have drawn the character of the Duke of Buckingham in brilliant verse, and both have condemned him to infamy. There is enough in Pepys’s reports to corroborate the main features of Dryden’s magnificent portrait of Zimri in Absalom and Achitophel:
“In the first rank of these did Zimri stand; A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind’s epitome; Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; Was everything by starts, and nothing long, But, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking, ⋮ He laughed himself from Court, then sought relief By forming parties, but could ne’er be chief.”
Pope’s facts are not correct, and hence the effect of his picture is impaired. In spite of the duke’s constant visits to the Tower, Charles II still continued his friend; but on the death of the king, expecting little from James, he retired to his estate at Helmsley, in Yorkshire, to nurse his property and to restore his constitution. He died on April 16th, 1687, at Kirkby Moorside, after a few days’ illness, caused by sitting on the damp grass when heated from a fox chase. The scene of his death was the house of a tenant, not “the worst inn’s worst room” (Moral Essays, epist. iii). He was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
The translation of the work of Joannes Henricus Alstedius is entitled: Templum Musicum; the Musical Synopsis; being a compendium of the rudiments both of the mathematical and practical part of music. Translated out of Latin by J. Birchensha. London, 1664, 8vo (with frontispiece). ↩
This explanation of the word would appear even now to be necessary for those who are unacquainted with the Liturgy of the Church of England. In 1888 the following passage occurred in a leading article in the Times: “We have no doubt whatever that Scotch judges and juries will administer indifferent justice.” A correspondent in Glasgow, who supposed indifferent to mean inferior, wrote to complain at the insinuation that a Scotch jury would not do its duty. ↩
Robert Boreman, D.D. (or Bourman), brother of Sir William Boreman, Clerk of the Green Cloth to Charles II, rector of St. Giles’s in the Fields from 1663 till his death, November 15th, 1675. He was installed Prebendary of Westminster Abbey in December, 1667. ↩
Mr. Chappell, in his account of the ballad of “St. George for England,” refers to this passage (Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i, p. 286). ↩
“Many men love the treason, though they hate the traitor” is attributed to Anthony Sadler, D.D. (1619–1680), in Day’s Collacon: An Encyclopædia of Prose Quotations. ↩
Devonshire House (the town house of the Earls of Devonshire) was in Bishopsgate Street, where Devonshire Square now stands. ↩
A tragedy by J. Caryl. Betterton acted King Richard; Harris, the Earl of Richmond; and Smith, Sir William Stanley. ↩
Mary Davis, sometime a comedian in the Duke of York’s troop, and one of those actresses who boarded with Sir W. Davenant, was, according to Pepys, a natural daughter of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire. She captivated the king by the charming manner in which she sang a ballad beginning, “My lodging it is on the cold ground,” when acting Celania, a shepherdess mad for love in the play of The Rivals. Charles took her off the stage, and she had by him a daughter named Mary Tudor, married to Francis, second Earl of Derwentwater; and their son James, the third earl, was attainted and beheaded for high treason. Miss Davis was also a fine dancer; see Hawkins’s History of Music, vol. iv, p. 525, where the ballad alluded to will be found; which, as Downes quaintly observes, “raised the fair songstress from her bed on the cold ground to the bed royal.” According to another account, she was the daughter of a blacksmith at Charlton, in Wiltshire, where a family of the name of Davis had exercised that calling for many generations, and has but lately become extinct. There is a beautiful whole-length portrait of Mary Davis, by Kneller, at Audley End, in which she is represented as a tall, handsome woman; and her general appearance ill accords with the description given of her by our journalist. —B. ↩
As Florimel in Secret Love, or the Maiden Queen. See 2nd of this month. ↩
£4 the chaldron. On November 26th, post, Pepys speaks of them as being £5 10s. In 1812, “Napoleon’s winter,” £6 6s. were paid in the suburbs of London; an extraordinary price; but, the difference of money considered, cheap, when compared with 1667. —B. ↩
Carcasse’s dismissal from office is clearly alluded to in his verses. See note 2628. ↩
Thomas Morley’s work is entitled, A Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music, Set Down in Form of a Dialogue Divided Into Three Parts. London, 1597, folio; other editions, 1608, 1771. ↩
The Loyal London was the ship given to the king by the City. It was launched at Deptford on June 10th, 1666. ↩
The proclamation “to apprehend George Duke of Buckingham for Treason” is dated “8 March 1666[–67]” (Bibliotheca Lindesiana: Handlist of Proclamations, vol. i, 1509–1714). ↩
Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, was appointed Envoy Extraordinary to treat for peace with France on January 25th, 1666–67. ↩
Thomas Greeting, musician, published, in 1675, The Pleasant Companion, or New Lessons and Instructions for the Flagelet. ↩
William Ashburnham, the Cofferer (see note 3129). ↩
Among the Rawlinson MSS. (Bodleian) are “Accounts with Sir W. Batten and others relating to the Flying Greyhound privateer, 1667,” A. 174. ↩
Thomas Waltham, muster-master at Plymouth, writes to the Navy Commissioners, January 11th, 1666–67, “Captain Hogg with his prize is ready to sail the first opportunity” (Calendar of State Papers, 1666–67, p. 447). ↩
Bishop Herbert Croft, who was previously Dean of Hereford (1644), was not a Romanist by birth, but entangled by the Jesuits while on his travels, and converted to Popery. It would appear, from Godwin (De Præsulibus), that his return to the Protestant faith is not attributable to Laud, but to the efforts of another prelate. “In patriam vero redux et in Thomæ Mortoni Episcopi Dunelmensis familiaritatem adductus melioribus consiliis adhibitis ad se quoque rediit et Ecclesiam Anglicanam.” Croft, says Burnet, was a devout man, but of no discretion in his conduct. He was born 1603, and survived his elevation to the see of Hereford, in 1661, thirty years. The bishop’s father, Sir Herbert, was a knight, and his son, of the same name, a baronet. See Sir Walter Scott’s preface to The Naked Truth, in Somers’ Tracts, vol. vii, p. 268. —B. ↩
William Allington, second Baron Allington, of Killard, Ireland, created an English baron, 1682, by the title of Baron Allington, of Wymondley, Hertfordshire. He died 1684, and was succeeded by his son, Giles, who died 1691, when the title became extinct. ↩
His second wife, Juliana, daughter of Baptist Noel, Viscount Campden. She died in the September following. —B. ↩
Richard Cumberland, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough. See note 189. ↩
Sir William Penn was at Sheerness on this day, and his “Memorandum of a Consultation held at Sheerness, March 20th, 1666–67, for the security of the said places, etc.,” is printed in Penn’s Life of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 437. ↩
Henry Gary, third Viscount Falkland, M.P., Oxford City, 1660, and Oxfordshire, 1661. Sir Henry Cary, first Viscount Falkland in the peerage of Scotland, was Lord Deputy of Ireland from 1622 to 1629. The title of the play was really The Marriage Night. It was published in 1664. The author died in the same year. ↩
There are references to the Phoenix, a Dutch ship taken as a prize, among the State Papers (see Calendar, 1666–67, p. 404). Pepys appears to have got into trouble at a later date in respect to this same ship, for among the Rawlinson MSS. (A. 170) are “Papers relating to the charge brought against him in the House of Commons in 1689 with reference to the ship Phoenix and the East India Company in 1681–86.” ↩
Sir William Brouncker (born 1585) had been Commissary-General of the Musters in the Scotch expedition in 1639, Vice-Chamberlain to Prince Charles, and one of the gentlemen of the Privy Chamber to Charles I. He was the son of Sir Henry Brouncker, President of Munster, by Anne, sister to Henry Lord Morley, and was created Viscount Brouncker of Castlelyons, in Ireland, and Baron Brouncker of Newcastle, co. Dublin, September 12th, 1645. He died in November following at Wadham College, Oxford, and was buried in Christ Church Cathedral, leaving issue by his wife, Winifred, daughter of Sir William Leigh, of Newenham, Warwickshire, two sons, William, and Henry, third and last Viscount Brouncker, who died in 1688, and was buried in Richmond Church, leaving no issue by his wife Rebecca, widow of the Hon. Thomas Jermyn, mother, by her first husband, of Thomas, Lord Jermyn, and Henry, Lord Dover. Henry Brouncker, who had been Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, had succeeded to the office of Cofferer on the death of William Ashburnham in 1671. The Lords Brouncker were descended from Henry Brouncker, who, in 1544, bought lands at Melksham and Erlestoke, in Wilts and his arms, and those of his two wives, are described by Aubrey as being on the window of a house at Erlestoke. There are lives of the Brounckers by Mr. Sidney L. Lee in the Dictionary of National Biography. ↩
Sir Godfrey Lloyd had been a captain in Holland, and was knighted by Charles at Brussels in 1657. —B. ↩
Sir Bernard de Gomme was born at Lille in 1620. When young he served in the campaigns of Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange, and afterwards entered the service of Charles I, by whom he was knighted. Under Charles II and James II he filled the offices of Engineer in Chief of all the King’s Castles and Fortifications in England and Wales, Quartermaster-General, and Surveyor-General of the Ordnance. He died November 23rd, 1685, and was buried in the Tower of London on the 30th. He first fortified Sheerness, Liverpool, etc., and he strengthened Portsmouth. His plans of these places and others, and of some of Charles I’s battles, are in the British Museum, where also is preserved a miniature portrait of him in oil. Mr. G. Laurence Gomme, ex-President of the Folk Lore Society, is a member of the same family as Sir Bernard, and possesses a curious carved desk with Cromwell’s arms upon it. It is a tradition in the family that this was presented by the Protector to Sir Bernard de Gomme. ↩
Sir Peter Lely (1618–1680) was knighted January 11th, 1678–79. His house was in Drury Lane. He died November 30th, 1680, and was buried by torchlight in St. Paul’s Church, Covent Garden, December 7th. ↩
D.C.L., King’s Advocate, 1669; Judge of the High Court of Admiralty in 1673, in succession to Sir Leoline Jenkins. ↩
Sir Leoline Jenkins, Principal of Jesus College, Oxford, and afterwards made Judge of the Admiralty and the Prerogative Court. He was subsequently employed on several embassies, and succeeded Henry Coventry as Secretary of State, 1680. Died 1685, aged sixty-two. His State Papers have been published. Burnet says of him, “He was a man of an exemplary life and considerably learned, but he was dull and slow; he was suspected of leaning to popery, though very unjustly.” ↩
Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Lucas, of Colchester, and sister to John, Lord Lucas, married William Cavendish, Marquis of Newcastle, created Duke of Newcastle, 1665. The play was written by the husband, and not by the wife. ↩
Lady Elizabeth Howard, daughter of Theophilus Howard, second Earl of Suffolk, wife of Algernon, tenth Earl of Northumberland. —B. ↩
Lady Elizabeth Wriothesley, third and youngest daughter to the last Earl of Southampton, half-sister to Rachel, Lady Russell, married to Josceline, Lord Percy, who succeeded as eleventh Earl of Northumberland in 1668. She was mother of Lady Elizabeth Percy, afterwards Duchess of Somerset. ↩
Evelyn (Diary, July 29th, 1667) says that it was owing to Sir William Coventry that no fleet was fitted out in 1667. His unpopularity after the burning of the fleet at Chatham by the Dutch was great. “Those who advised His Majesty to prepare no fleet this spring, deserved—I know what—but!” (Evelyn’s Diary, June 28th, 1667). —B. ↩
If this is not a mistake it infers that there was some relationship between Sir Thomas Allen and Captain John Allen, the father of Rebecca. ↩
Henry Jowles, of Chatham, was married to Rebecca, daughter of John Alleyn of the same place, in 1662 (see Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, col. 779). The name is given incorrectly as Jewkes in note 2024. ↩
John Lanyon, one of the contractors for victualling Tangier. ↩
Nathanael Crewe, afterwards Bishop of Durham, and last Lord Crewe (1633–1722). He was the founder of the noble Bamborough charities. At this time he was thirty-four years of age. ↩
The Bear at the Bridge Foot was a famous tavern in Southwark (see note 681). ↩
To Cobham Hall, near Gravesend. See April 26th, post. —B. ↩
The passage between brackets is written in the margin of the MS. ↩
The practice of giving alms on Maundy Thursday to poor men and women equal in number to the years of the sovereign’s age is a curious survival in an altered form of an old custom. The original custom was for the king to wash the feet of twelve poor persons, and to give them a supper in imitation of Christ’s last supper and his washing of the Apostles’ feet. James II was the last sovereign to perform the ceremony in person, but it was performed by deputy so late as 1731. The Archbishop of York was the king’s deputy on that occasion. The institution has passed through the various stages of feet washing with a supper, the discontinuance of the feet washing, the substitution of a gift of provisions for the supper, and finally the substitution of a gift of money for the provisions. The ceremony took place at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall; but it is now held at Westminster Abbey. Maundy is derived from the Latin word maudatum, which commences the original anthem sung during the ceremony, in reference to Christ’s command; but Spelman supposed it to be connected with the maunds or baskets to contain the gifts—as will be seen from what has been said of the original institution, this is an impossible explanation. Professor Skeat has settled the question conclusively by proving beyond doubt that Maundy is really the French mandé, which is the regular phonetic forin of Latin mandatum, a command (see his Etymological Dictionary and note to “Piers Plowman,” E. E. Text Soc. edition, part iv, p. 379). He points out that Spelman’s guess about maund, a basket, “is as false as it is readily believed.” ↩
Thomas Wentworth, fourth Baron Wentworth of Nettlestead, advanced, February 7th, 1625–26, to the earldom of Cleveland. In 1660 he was again appointed Captain of the Band of Pensioners, an office he had held before the Civil Wars. He died March 25th, 1667, s.p.m., when the barony devolved upon his daughter, Henrietta, Baroness Wentworth, afterwards mistress of the Duke of Monmouth. ↩
Sir Paul Rycaut’s Present State of the Ottoman Empire is in the Pepysian Library. See note 3014. ↩
This play was entitled Sawney the Scot, or the Taming of a Shrew, and consisted of an alteration of Shakespeare’s play by John Lacy. Although it had long been popular it was not printed until 1698. In the old Taming of a Shrew (1594), reprinted by Thomas Amyot for the Shakespeare Society in 1844, the hero’s servant is named Sander, and this seems to have given the hint to Lacy, when altering Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, to foist a Scotsman into the action. Sawney was one of Lacy’s favourite characters, and occupies a prominent position in Michael Wright’s picture at Hampton Court. Evelyn, on October 3rd, 1662, “visited Mr. Wright, a Scotsman, who had liv’d long at Rome, and was esteem’d a good painter,” and he singles out as his best picture, “Lacy, the famous Roscius, or comedian, whom he has painted in three dresses, as a gallant, a Presbyterian minister, and a Scotch Highlander in his plaid.” Langbaine and Aubrey both make the mistake of ascribing the third figure to Teague in The Committee; and in spite of Evelyn’s clear statement, his editor in a note follows them in their blunder. Planché has reproduced the picture in his History of Costume (vol. ii, p. 243). ↩
Secretary Morice writes, “Whitehall, April 16”—“The King wishes the £200 a week allowed to the Ambassadors extraordinary appointed to treat at Breda to begin from April 16” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 37). ↩
Sir George Mackenzie (1636–91), King’s Advocate for Scotland, published at Edinburgh, anonymously, in 1663, Religio Stoici; the Virtuoso or Stoic, with a friendly Address to the Fanatics of all Sects and Sorts. ↩
A light-armed vessel of the seventeenth century, used by the Dutch for privateering.
Jamaica House and Tea Gardens, Bermondsey, are marked in Horwood’s map as situated at the end of Cherry Garden Street. The name survives in Jamaica Road. There is an illustration of the house in Rendle and Norman’s Inns of Old Southwark, 1888, p. 400. ↩
This play was entered on the Register of the Stationers’ Company, but never printed. ↩
Edward Howard, fifth son of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire, and brother of Sir Robert Howard, baptized at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, November 2nd, 1624. His play, the United Kingdoms, was satirized in The Rehearsal. Lacy’s opinion of his abilities was shared by many of his contemporaries. ↩
The edition of 1666, containing eight books instead of five, edited by Dr. J. Gauden, Bishop of Exeter, and printed by Andrew Crooker, with the Life by Izaak Walton added for the first time. ↩
Sir William Dugdale’s Origines Juridiciales was published in 1666, and a second edition appeared in 1671. ↩
See note 802, which requires revision. Michael Mohun (1620?–84) acted before the Civil War under Beeston at the Cockpit, in Drury Lane. He fought on the royalist side, and attained the rank of captain. Subsequently he went to Flanders, and there became a major. He lived in 1665 on the south side of Russell Street, Covent Garden, and from 1671 to 1676 in a house on the east side of Bow Street. He died in Brownlow Street (now Betterton Street), Drury Lane, in October, 1684, and was buried in the church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields (see life by Mr. Joseph Knight in the Dictionary of National Biography). He is described as Major in the Dramatis Personæ of Dryden’s Assignation as late as 1673. ↩
Afterwards called Bloomsbury Market. The following advertisement was inserted in The Intelligencer of May 23rd, 1664:
“These are to give notice to all persons, that the King’s most excellent Majesty hath granted to the Right Hon. the Earl of Southampton, one market to be held by the said Earl, his heirs, and assignes for ever, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, in every week, at Bloomsbury, in the parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, in the county of Middlesex.
John Desborough, Desborow, or Disbrowe (1608–80), major-general, second son of James Desborough of Ettisley, Cambridgeshire. On June 23rd, 1636, he married Jane, sixth daughter of Robert Cromwell of Huntingdon, and sister of Oliver. After the Restoration he was imprisoned, and passed through several adventures; but after a judicial examination in 1667 he was set at liberty, and appears to have been allowed to reside quietly in England for the rest of his life. He died at Hackney in 1680. ↩
Rollo, Duke of Normandy, a tragedy by John Fletcher, published in 1640. It was previously published in 1639 under the title of The Bloody Brother. Hart, Kynaston, Mohun, and Burt all acted in this play. ↩
See November 5th, 1664. Downes wrote: “The Tragedy of Macbeth, alter’d by Sir William Davenant; being drest in all it’s finery, as new clothes, new scenes, machines as flyings for the Witches; with all the singing and dancing in it. The first compos’d by Mr. Lock, the other by Mr. Channell and Mr. Joseph Preist; it being all excellently perform’d, being in the nature of an opera, it recompenc’d double the expense; it proves still a lasting play.” ↩
The death of Mr. Hollworthy is recorded on November 10th, 1665. ↩
A form once so commonly used for asparagus that it has found its way into dictionaries. ↩
Sir George Viner in 1665 succeeded his father. Sir Thomas, who had been Lord Mayor in 1653, and created a baronet in 1660. Sir George died in 1673. His wife was Abigail, daughter of Sir John Lawrence, Lord Mayor in 1665. —B. ↩
Hackney was long famous for its boarding schools. ↩
Among the State Papers is a document dated July 8th, 1667, in which we read: “At Breda, the business is so far advanced that the English have relinquished their pretensions to the ships Henry Bonaventure and Good Hope. The matter sticks only at Poleron; the States have resolved not to part with it, though the English should have a right to it” (Calendar, 1667, p. 278). ↩
William Legge, eldest son of Edward Legge, sometime Vice-President of Munster, born 1609(?). He served under Maurice of Nassau and Gustavus Adolphus, and held the rank of colonel in the Royalist army. He closely attached himself to Prince Rupert, and was an active agent in affecting the reconciliation between that prince and his uncle Charles I. Colonel Legge distinguished himself in several actions, and was wounded and taken prisoner at the battle of Worcester; it was said that he would have “been executed if his wife had not contrived his escape from Coventry gaol in her own clothes.” He was Groom of the Bedchamber to Charles I, and also to Charles II; he held the offices of Master of the Armories and Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance. He refused honours (a knighthood from Charles I and an earldom from Charles II), but his eldest son George was created Baron Dartmouth in 1682. He died October 13th, 1672, at his house in the Minories, and was buried in Trinity Church, Minories, where there is a monument to his memory. A portrait of Colonel Legge, by Huysman, is in the possession of the Earl of Dartmouth. There is an excellent life of Legge, by Mr. C. H. Firth, in the Dictionary of National Biography. ↩
Eleanor, daughter of Robert Needham, Viscount Kilmurrey, and widow of Peter Warburton, became in 1644 the second wife of John Byron, first Lord Byron. Died 1663. —B. ↩
All these assertions respecting the King of France must be received cautiously. Pepys was very ignorant of foreign matters, and very credulous. —B. ↩
Louis made his own bastards dukes and princes, and legitimatized them as much as he could, connecting them also by marriage with the real blood-royal. —B. ↩
Louise Françoise de la Baume le Blanc de la Vallière had four children by Louis XIV, of whom only two survived-Marie Anne Bourbon, called Mademoiselle de Blois, born in 1666, afterwards married to the Prince de Conti, and the Comte de Vermandois, born in 1667. In that year (the very year in which Evelyn was giving this account to Pepys), the Duchy of Vaujour and two baronies were created in favour of La Vallière, and her daughter, who, in the deed of creation, was legitimatized, and styled princess. —B. ↩
Even at a much later time Mrs. Godolphin well resolved “not to talk foolishly to men, more especiallythe King,”—“be sure never to talk tothe King” (Life, by Evelyn). These expressions speak volumes as to Charles’s character. —B. ↩
Evelyn evidently believed the Duchess of Richmond to be innocent; and his testimony, coupled with her own declaration, ought to weigh down all the scandal which Pepys reports from other sources. —B. ↩
This lady’s name nowhere appears. She was the wife of the Hon. Walter Stewart, third son of Walter, first Lord Blantyre. The Duchess of Richmond, Frances Theresa, was her elder daughter. The younger, Sophia, married the Hon. Henry Bulkeley, master of the household to Charles II and James II. —B. ↩
Cobham Hall, in Kent, after the attainder of Henry Brooke, Lord Cobham, was granted by James I to Ludovic Stuart, Duke of Lennox, and his brother George, Lord Aubigney, from whom it descended to Charles Stuart, Duke of Richmond and Lennox, in 1660. This duke dying, s. p., in 1672, when ambassador to Denmark, the estates, together with the English barony of Clifton, passed, through his sister. Lady Catherine O’Brien, to the ancestor of the Earl of Darnley, the present possessor. Lady Catherine O’Brien married Sir Joseph Williamson, who repurchased the Cobham estates, when sold, and preserved them to the family. —B. ↩
Sir Thomas Clifford was the eldest son of Hugh Clifford, of Ugbrook, near Exeter, where he was born, August 1st, 1630. He attached himself to Lord Arlington, and acted as that statesman’s confidential agent when with the fleet. On April 22nd, 1672, he was created Baron Clifford, of Chudleigh, co. Devon; and he supplanted his patron when on November 28th following he was appointed Lord High Treasurer, an office which Arlington desired. He was ruined by the passing of the Test Act, and resigning his office, he retired to Devonshire, and died September, 1673, not without suspicion of suicide. ↩
“A sort of jacket called justacorps came into fashion in Paris about 1650. M. Quicherat informs us that a pretty Parisienne, the wife of a maître de comptes named Belot, was the first who appeared in it. In a ballad called ‘The New-made Gentlewoman,’ written in the reign of Charles II, occurs the line, ‘My justico and black patches I wear.’ Mr. Fairholt suggested that justico may be a corruption of juste au corps.”
Among the State Papers is an “Account by Captain J. Perriman of work doing on and the movements of 13 ships named, lying in the Thames,” dated April, 1667 (Calendar, 1667, p. 66). ↩
At the passage of the Dardanelles, in 1807, a stone shot, fired by the Turks from the Castle of Sestos, entered the Lion, of sixty-four guns, and killed and wounded a great many men. It weighed 770 pounds. —B. ↩
James Stuart, second son of the Duke of York, born July 12th, 1663; created Duke of Cambridge, August 23rd, 1664; died June 20th, 1667. ↩
Lady Mary Boyle, fourth daughter of Richard, first Earl of Burlington, married to Viscount Hinchingbroke, 1668. ↩
Lawrence Hyde, afterwards Earl of Rochester, married Lady Henrietta Boyle, fifth daughter of the Earl of Burlington, 1665. ↩
Probably John Madden, surveyor of the woods on this side Trent (see Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 83). ↩
On the 1st of May milkmaids used to borrow silver cups, tankards, etc., to hang them round their milkpails, with the addition of flowers and ribbons, which they carried upon their heads, accompanied by a bagpipe or fiddle, and went from door to door, dancing before the houses of their customers, in order to obtain a small gratuity from each of them.
“In London thirty years ago, When pretty milkmaids went about, It was a goodly sight to see Their Maiday pageant all drawn out. ⋮ “Such scenes and sounds once blest my eyes And charm’d my ears; but all have vanish’d, On Maiday now no garlands go, For milkmaids and their dance are banish’d.”
—Hone’s Everyday Book, vol. i, pp. 569, 570
Maiday customs have nearly died out, but the editor saw a jack-in-the-green with men dressed as milkmaids dancing round it on May 1st of the present year (1895) in one of the streets near Primrose Hill. There has been a great revival of Maiday decoration on carthorses within the last few years. ↩
The old house in Drury Lane where Nell Gwyn is believed to have lived was pulled down in 1891. It was situated on the west side of the lane, nearly opposite Wych Street. There is a view of it in Peter Cunningham’s Story of Nell Gwyn. ↩
William Garway, M.P. for Chichester (see note 2994). Timothy Littleton, or Lyttelton, Serjeant-at-Law, M.P. for Ludlow. ↩
John Egerton, second Earl of Bridgewater, Lord-Lieutenant of the counties of Bucks and Hertford, and High Steward of the University of Oxford. Died October 26th, 1686. ↩
In reference to this passage, Mr. R. Jacomb Hood wrote to Notes and Queries (4th series, vol. xii, p. 471), as follows: “I have an old silver tankard, which has been in my family for several generations, and which, from the inscription upon it, seems to have been given by the king to Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, who was murdered in 1678. The inscriptions show, not only that a tankard was given in 1665 for services during the Plague, but that the recipient was further knighted by the king in September, 1666, for his efforts to preserve order in the Great Fire. The tankard is quite plain, weighs 38 oz., and holds about two quarts.” Mr. Hood adds, however, that “the hall mark appears from the trade register to belong to the years 1675–76, i.e., at least eight years later than the notice by Pepys.” ↩
Margaret Lowther, afterwards the wife of Captain Sir John Holmes. —B. ↩
Pepys’s conjecture proved right. The house was not sold till Sir R. Brookes’s death, when his heirs alienated it to Sir Josiah Child. Sir R. Child rebuilt it in 1715, and the Earl of Mornington took it down in 1823. ↩
John Troughtback (or Troutbeck) served as a surgeon in Lambert’s army, but joined Monk in Scotland in 1659. He was appointed chief-surgeon to the king in 1660, was also surgeon to the Duke of Albemarle’s troop of His Majesty’s Life Guard, and was granted in 1667 a pension of £200 a year for his services. He married in 1665 (second wife), Frances Wray, widow of Sir Christopher Wray, fourth baronet of Glentworth (Dalton’s English Army Lists, 1661–1714, vol. i, p. 3). ↩
The lease here mentioned was that of the famous Ashburnham House in the Cloisters. The lease was purchased by the Crown of John, Earl of Ashburnham, in 1730, and the Cottonian Library was deposited in the house. In 1731 the disastrous fire occurred there which consumed so many treasures, and injured others. Ashburnham House passed to Westminster School in 1881 in fee simple, in pursuance of the Public Schools Act, 31 and 32 Vict., cap. 118. A view of the fine staircase, still existing in old Ashburnham House, is given in Britton and Brayley’s Public Buildings. ↩
Richard Busby, D.D. (1606–1695), the famous headmaster of Westminster School. In July, 1660, he was installed as Prebendary of Westminster, and in the following August he became canon residentiary and treasurer of Wells. It would be impossible to find a more inappropriate expression to apply to Busby than “devilish covetousness.” He was one of the most charitable of men; and as one instance of this out of many, Mr. J. Sargeaunt, Master at Westminster School, tells the editor that he finds from Busby’s accounts that between February, 1656–57, and the end of the following October, out of a total expenditure of about £670 more than £200 went in direct charity and in repairing the school buildings and the houses which he occupied as prebendary and master. In another year he spent at least a tenth of total expenditure in direct charity. Mr. Sargeaunt adds, “His benefactions to Christ Church were large, and to Wells Cathedral not small. Some works in the Abbey he did at his own expense, as well as works at Willen and in other places. By his will he left practically the whole of his property for charitable uses.” It must be remembered in respect to the Cofferer’s scandalous charge that buyer and seller are seldom of one mind, and that the Dean and Chapter of Westminster Abbey might quite justly take a different view from that held by William Ashburnham. ↩
Charles Dormer, second Earl of Carnarvon. Died, s. p., November 29th, 1709. His father, Robert, first earl, was killed at the battle of Newbury, September 20th, 1643, fighting under the royal banner. ↩
Burntisland, a seaport of Fife on the Frith of Forth, five miles north of Granton. April 30th, 1667:
“The Dutch sounded the coast, but Gen. Dalziell cut the beacon at the extreme of Leith harbour, so that they were confused, and battered Burntisland with 1,000 shot, the town returned it from 20 pieces of cannon, and in less than two hours 10,000 were in arms at Burntisland, and as many at Leith, whither more than 6,000 citizens of Edinburgh are gone; the citadel is planted with 30 pieces of cannon, which fired to invite the enemy: the country came up in multitudes. The magistrates of Leith sunk a ship in the mouth of the harbour, and planted 20 cannon on high, whereby a fire-ship that tried to slip in was prevented. They are now gone, it is supposed to Shetland.”
Commissioner Pett wrote from Chatham, on May 24th, to the Navy Commissioners in answer to some of these charges respecting the sale of timber (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 116). ↩
Phil. Lloyd styles himself servant to Sir William Coventry, April, 1667 (Calendar, 1667, p. 10). ↩
“One unpopular act of his [Clarendon] is not to be forgot, because it had a great influence in a short time, and this was the building a very stately large house by the Park, called Clarendon House, which, in a little time, obtained the name of Dunkirk House, as though it had been built by the money taken for the sale of that place. This house was built in the Chancellor’s absence in the plague year, principally at the charge of the Vintners’ Company, who, designing to monopolize his favour, made it abundantly more large and magnificent than ever he intended or desired. And I have been assured by an unquestionable hand, that when he came to see the case of that house, he rather submitted than consented, and, with a sigh, said, ‘This house will one day be my ruin.’ ”
There are two tokens of “The Three Tuns Tavern in Crutched Friars” (Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 581). ↩
It was Basil who was killed. He was the fourth son of George Fielding, Earl of Desmond, whose eldest son William succeeded his father as second Earl of Desmond in 1666, and his uncle Basil as third Earl of Denbigh in 1675. ↩
At Newcastle House, Clerkenwell Close, the duke and duchess lived in great state. The house was divided, and let in tenements in the eighteenth century. ↩
Randle Holmes says the ladies wore “false locks set on wires, to make them stand at a distance from the head,” and accompanies the information with the figure of a lady “with a pair of locks and curls which were in great fashion in 1670” (Planché’s Cyclopædia of Costume, vol. i, p. 248). ↩
A new light is thrown upon this favourite expression of Pepys’s when speaking of his wife by the following quotation from a Midland wordbook:
“Wretch, n., often used as an expression of endearment or sympathy. Old Woman to Young Master: ‘An’ ’ow is the missis today, poor wretch?’ Of a boy going to school a considerable distance off ‘I met ’im with a bit o’ bread in ’is bag, poor wretch’ ”
A Glossary of Words and Phrases used in S.E. Worcestershire, by Jesse Salisbury. Published by the English Dialect Society, 1894
Nova Scotia and the adjoining countries were called by the French Acadie. Pepys is not the only official personage whose ignorance of Nova Scotia is on record. A story is current of a prime minister (Duke of Newcastle) who was surprised at hearing Cape Breton was an island. “Egad, I’ll go tell the King Cape Breton is an island!” Of the same it is said, that when told Annapolis was in danger, and ought to be defended: “Oh! certainly Annapolis must be defended—where is Annapolis?” —B. ↩
Charles Stuart, third son of the Duke of York, born July 4th, 1666; created Duke of Kendal, October 31st, 1666; and died May 22nd, 1667. ↩
The passage between brackets is written in the margin of the MS. ↩
Alderman Sir John Frederick, elected M.P. for the City of London, March, 1662–63; Lord Mayor of London, 1662, and President of Christ’s Hospital. His eldest son, John, was created a baronet, 1723. ↩
The Mercers’ Company, under whose superintendence St. Paul’s School was placed by Dean Colet, the founder. The school remained in its old locality until 1880, when it was removed to West Kensington, and the schoolhouse pulled down. ↩
Lawrence Moyer, of Low Leyton, in Essex, whose son, of the same name, was afterwards Sir Samuel Moyer, Bart., and High Sheriff of Essex, in 1698. He had also been one of the Council of State. His widow, Rebecca, daughter of Alderman Sir William Joliffe, founded the well-known Lady Moyer’s Lectures. —B. ↩
An error for Bedfordshire. The place was Hawnes, which belonged to the Lukes of Cople, who, about 1654, had sold it to Sir Humphrey Winch, from whom, and not directly from Sir Samuel Luke, Sir George Carteret purchased it in 1667. The son by this marriage was created Lord Carteret of Hawnes in 1681. —B. ↩
Sir Samuel Luke, eldest son of Sir Oliver Luke, of Woodend, Beds. He belonged to the Presbyterian party, and appears to have been a stout soldier. He was referred to by a contemporary as “Great-spirited little Sir Samuel Luke.” He was knighted in 1624, and died in 1670; buried at Cople, in Beds., on the 30th August. His fame has been injured by the supposed fact that he was the hero of Hudibras. ↩
Izaac Walton’s Life of Mr. Richard Hooker, “London, by J. G. for Ric. Marriott,” was first published in 1665. ↩
Lady Vane was Frances, daughter of Sir Christopher Wray, Bart., of Ashby, Lincolnshire. —B. ↩
Burnet says of Sir John Duncomb, that “he was a judicious man, but very haughty, and apt to raise enemies. He was an able Parliament man, but could not go into all the designs of the Court; for he had a sense of religion, and a zeal for the liberty of his country” (Own Time, vol. i, p. 437, ed. 1833). Duncomb’s removal from the Ordnance to the Treasury is not overlooked by Marvell (Works, vol. iii, p. 391):
“Southampton dead, much of the treasure’s care And place in council fell to Duncomb’s share. All men admired, he to that pitch could fly, Powder ne’er blew man up so soon, so high; But, sure his late good husbandry in petre [saltpetre], Showed him to manage the Exchequer meeter And who the forts would not vouchsafe a corn, To lavish the King’s money more with scorn, Who hath no chimneys to give all is best; And ablest speaker who of law hath least. Who less estate for Treasurer most fit. And for a Chancellor he that has least wit. But the true cause was, that in’s brother May, Th’ exchequer might the privy-purse obey.”
Commissioner Pett, in his communication to the Navy Commissioners (May 24th), states that “Murford and Moorcock went two-thirds in Newhall timber” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 117). ↩
During a very high flood in the meadows between Huntingdon and Godmanchester, something was seen floating, which the Godmanchester people thought was a black pig, and the Huntingdon folk declared it was a sturgeon; when rescued from the waters, it proved to be a young donkey. This mistake led to the one party being styled “Godmanchester black pigs,” and the other “Huntingdon sturgeons,” terms not altogether forgotten at this day. Pepys’s colt must be taken to be the colt of an ass. —B. ↩
Mary, widow of Morgan Davis, Esq., the third wife of Alderman Robert Lowther, was the lady here referred to. —B. ↩
According to Collins, Anthony Lowther had but one brother, John, a merchant at Danzig, and one of the Commissioners of Revenue in Ireland. See Collins, vol. v, p. 702. Anthony Lowther, who married Margaret Penn, was the son of Elizabeth, daughter of William Holcroft, Esq., second wife of Robert Lowther, of Marske, co. York, and Alderman of London, who died 1655. —B. ↩
“. My little book in answer to Sir George Mackenzie was now published, entitled, Public Employment and an Active Life, with Its Appenages, Preferred to Solitude.”
Evelyn’s Diary
Soon afterwards Evelyn wrote to Cowley, the poet, and excused himself for writing in this strain, and in truth his opinions were divided on this question. ↩
If we are to credit the following paragraph, extracted from the Morning Post of May 2nd, 1791, the virtues of May dew were then still held in some estimation; for it records that “on the day preceding, according to annual and superstitious custom, a number of persons went into the fields, and bathed their faces with the dew on the grass, under the idea that it would render them beautiful” (Hone’s Every Day Book, vol. ii, p. 611). Aubrey speaks of May dew as “a great dissolvent” (Miscellanies, p. 183). —B. ↩
The rectory of Wanstead, in Essex, to which he was presented. ↩
May 30th.
“The duchess of Newcastle coming in, the experiments appointed for her entertainment were made: first that of weighing the air … ; next were made several experiments of mixing colours; then two cold liquors by mixture made hot; then the experiments of making water bubble up in the rarefying engine, by drawing out the air, and that of making an empty bladder swell in the same engine; then the experiment of making a body swim in the middle of the water; and that of two well-wrought marbles, which were not separated but by the weight of forty-seven pounds.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 178
This may either have been the wife or daughter of Alfonso Ferrabosco the younger or of John Ferrabosco. ↩
George, Lord Berkeley of Berkeley (created Earl of Berkeley in 1679), died October 10th, 1698. Charles Howard, first Earl of Carlisle, born 1629; died February 24th, 1685. William Seymour, third Duke of Somerset, born 1650; died December 12th, 1671. In the Paston MSS. he is described as “a youth of great beauty and hope.” ↩
Sir John Buncombe. See November 8th, 1664. Mr. J. Biddulph Martin says, “The assertion that Duncombe’s father had been a Long Parliament man is not confirmed by reference to the roll of the Long Parliament” (The Grasshopper in Lombard Street, 1892, p. 29). ↩
Pepys’s Private Accounts, made up to May 31st, 1667, are amongst the Rawlinson MSS., A. 174 (Bodleian). ↩
Robert Scawen, at one time Receiver-General for the office of Receiver-General for Hants, Wilts, and Gloucestershire. ↩
Sir William Penn was elected Master of the Trinity House, Monday, June 3rd, 1667. ↩
George Cavendish (1500–61?), elder son of Thomas Cavendish, Clerk of the Pipe in the Exchequer. He entered the service of Cardinal Wolsey in 1526 or 1527 as gentleman-usher, and remained with his master till the latter’s death, when he retired into private life, and lived quietly. He wrote the life of Wolsey in 1557, but it was not pubhshed, and remained long in MS. For some time there was uncertainty as to the authorship, and the book was attributed to William Cavendish. The question was settled in 1814, when the Rev. Joseph Hunter published his pamphlet entitled, Who Wrote Cavendish’s Life of Wolsey. Singer published the life in 1815, and a second edition appeared in 1827. It has since been frequently reprinted. ↩
The churchyard of St. Dunstan’s (Old Stepney Church) is referred to both in the Tatler and the Spectator. In the latter we read (No. 518), “I have made discovery of a churchyard in which I believe you might spend an afternoon with great pleasure to yourself and to the public.” ↩
Richard Watts, writing from Deale to Williamson, June 3rd, says:
“Governor Titus of Deale Castle is said to have received a packet from Whitehall at 3 a.m. that the Duke of Beaufort, with 60 sail, is at the Isle of Wight, and the Dutch, with 40 sail, at the Gunfleet. Preparations are made to receive the enemy if they attempt to land.”
It was called the Monmouth cock, which, according to The Spectator, No. 129, was still worn in the west of England by country squires in 1711:
“During our progress through the most western parts of the kingdom, we fancied ourselves in King Charles the Second’s reign, the people having made little variations in their dress since that time. The smartest of the country squires appear still in the Monmouth cock.”
Hydrostatical Paradoxes Made Out by New Experiments was published by the Hon. Robert Boyle in 1666 (Oxford). ↩
Captain Francis Courtenay wrote to the Navy Commissioners (Happy Return, Hope, June 3rd):
“Hopes they will not account him too great an offender in stopping the incessant requests of some necessitated persons for relief of their families. Has granted tickets to 13 men named, and commends them to favour. Is setting sail with the Portugal Ambassador, who came on board this morning.”
Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 147
The Happy Return carried the Portuguese ambassador to Holland, and was back at Plymouth on the 14th June (Calendar, p. 187). ↩
This was Hollar’s map, published in 1644, and entitled, “The Kingdom of England and Principality of Wales, exactly described with every Sheere, and the small towns in every one of them, in six maps.” This is generally known as the Quartermasters’ map. ↩
The Visions of Quevedo, Made English by Roger l’Estrange, was published in 1668, and reprinted 1671, 1673, 1689, 1702, 1710, 1715, 1795. ↩
Grandson of Fretcheville Hollis, of Grimsby. His father, Gervase Hollis, the antiquary, most of whose collections came into the British Museum, was an officer in the king’s service. Sir Fretcheville Hollis, embracing the naval profession, lost an arm in the sea-fight of 1665, and afterwards served as Rear-Admiral under Sir Robert Holmes, when they attacked the Smyrna fleet. He fell in the battle of Southwold Bay, 1672, onboard the Cambridge. Although Pepys speaks slightly of him, he was a man of high spirit and enterprise, and is thus eulogized by Dryden in his Annus Mirabilis:
“Young Hollis on a Muse by Mars begot, Born, Caesar-like, to write and act great deeds, Impatient to revenge his fatal shot, His right hand doubly to his left succeeds.”
It was an ancient custom in Berkshire, when a man had beaten his wife, for the neighbours to parade in front of his house, for the purpose of serenading him with kettles, and horns and hand-bells, and every species of “rough music,” by which name the ceremony was designated. Perhaps the riding mentioned by Pepys was a punishment somewhat similar. Malcolm (Manners of London) quotes from the Protestant Mercury, that a porter’s lady, who resided near Strand Lane, beat her husband with so much violence and perseverance, that the poor man was compelled to leap out of the window to escape her fury. Exasperated at this virago, the neighbours made a “riding,” i.e. a pedestrian procession, headed by a drum, and accompanied by a chemise, displayed for a banner. The manual musician sounded the tune of “You round-headed cuckolds, come dig, come dig!” and nearly seventy coalheavers, carmen, and porters, adorned with large horns fastened to their heads, followed. The public seemed highly pleased with the nature of the punishment, and gave liberally to the vindicators of injured manhood. —B. ↩
The Golden Hand was to have been used for the conveyance of the Swedish Ambassadors’ horses and goods to Holland. In August, 1667, Frances, widow of Captain Douglas and daughter of Lord Grey, petitioned the king “for a gift of the prize ship Golden Hand, now employed in weighing the ships sunk at Chatham, where her husband lost his life in defence of the ships against the Dutch” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 430) ↩
That is, the blockhouse. There were formerly considerable fortifications at Gravesend, and about the year 1778 they were greatly extended under the superintendence of Sir Thomas Hyde Page; a few years since, however, a great portion was dismantled, the ground was sold, and the “Terrace Pier,” and other works ejusdem generis erected. —B. ↩
An error for Sir John Griffith, Governor of Gravesend and captain of West Tilbury Blockhouse, who was knighted at Whitehall, January 2nd, 1665. His name appears in the State Papers almost as often as Griffin as Griffith. ↩
There had been correspondence with Pett respecting this chain in April and May. On the 10th May Pett wrote to the Navy Commissioners, “The chain is promised to be dispatched tomorrow, and all things are ready for fixing it.” On the 11th June the Dutch “got twenty or twenty-two ships over the narrow part of the river at Chatham, where ships had been sunk; after two and a half hours’ fighting one guard-ship after another was fired and blown up, and the enemy master of the chain” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, pp. 58, 87, 215). ↩
The account of this national disgrace is very characteristic, in Poems on State Affairs, vol. i, p. 48, in the Advice to a Painter, ascribed to Sir John Denham. —B. ↩
Samuel’s uncle William told him that William Pepys was born at Dunbar, in Scotland, brought up by the Abbot of Crowland, placed by him at Cottenham, and made “bailiff of all his lands in Cambridgeshire.” He died in 1519, leaving issue three sons and three daughters. There were, however, earlier Pepyses at Cottenham. ↩
Vandervelde’s drawings of the conflagration of the English fleet, made by him on the spot, are in the British Museum. —B. ↩
William Pierrepont, called “wise Pierrepont,” younger son of the first Earl of Kingston, and brother to the Marquis of Dorchester. His grandson, Robert, succeeded as third Earl of Kingston. —B. ↩
“After dinner I walked to survey the sad demolition of Clarendon House, that costly and only sumptuous palace of the late Lord Chancellor Hyde. … The Chancellor gone, and dying in exile, the Earl his successor sold that which cost £50,000 building to the young Duke of Albemarle for £25,000. … He sold it to the highest bidder, and it fell to certain rich bankers and mechanics who gave for it and the ground about it £35,000; they design a new town, as it were, and a most magnificent piazza (i.e. square).”
The want of ammunition when the Dutch burnt the fleet, and the revenge of the deserter sailors, are well described by Marvell:
“Our Seamen, whom no danger’s shape could fright, Unpaid, refuse to mount their ships, for spite Or to their fellows swim, on board the Dutch, Who show the tempting metal in their clutch. Oft had he [Monk] sent, of Duncombe and of Legge, Cannon and powder, but in vain, to beg: And Upnor’s Castle’s ill-deserted wall, Now needful does for ammunition call, He finds, where’er he succour might expect, Confusion, folly, treachery, fear, neglect.”
Meaning, apparently, that the Ordnance would deliver the charcoal, sulphur, and saltpetre separately, but not mix them as gunpowder—a distinction which has been brought prominently forward lately in the war-rocket case. —B. ↩
Apparently Thomas Wilson, who was appointed gunner in Upnor Castle, July, 1667, “in consideration of his good service in defence of the river at Chatham against the late attempt of the Dutch” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 322). ↩
“Pride, Lust, Ambition, and the People’s Hate, The kingdom’s broker, ruin of the State, Dunkirk’s sad loss, divider of the fleet, Tangier’s compounder for a barren sheet: This shrub of gentry, married to the crown, His daughter to the heir, is tumbled down.”
The report was not true. The Lord High Constable at the coronation of Charles II in 1661 was Algernon, Earl of Northumberland. The next holder of this office was Henry, Duke of Grafton, who officiated at the coronation of James II in 1685. ↩
William Bodham was attached to Woolwich Ropeyard. ↩
Probably the following prognostications amused Pepys and his friends:
“The several lunations of this month do rather portend sea-fights, wars, etc., than give hopes of peace, particularly the several configurations do very much threaten Holland with a most strange and unusual loss at sea, if they shall dare to fight His Majesty’s forces. Still poor Poland is threatened either by the Muscovites or wandering Cossacks. Strange rumours dispersed in London, some vain people abuse His Majesty’s subjects with untruths and ill-grounded suggestions. Much division in London about building; perhaps that may occasion those vain and idle reports. Strange news out of Holland, as if all were in an uproar; we believe they are now in a sad and fearful condition.”
Evelyn (Diary, July 29th, 1667) says it was owing to Sir W. Coventry that no fleet was sent out in 1667:
“It is well known who of the Commissioners of the Treasury gave advice that the charge of setting forth a fleet this year might be spared. Sir W. C. (William Coventry) by name.”
“June 17th. This day, Commissioner Pett, to whom was committed the care of the Yard at Chatham, with the afifairs of the Navy there, was committed close prisoner to the Tower, in order to his farther examination.”
The London Gazette, No. 166
“Warrants to [John] Bradley to seize [Peter] Pett, Commissioner at Chatham, and bring him to the Tower; and to the Lieutenant of the Tower to keep him close prisoner, for dangerous practices and misdemeanours.”
dated June 16th, Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 196
Pett was made a scapegoat. This is confirmed by Marvel:
“After this loss, to relish discontent, Some one must be accused by Parliament; All our miscarriages on Pett must fall, His name alone seems fit to answer all. Whose counsel first did this mad war beget? Who all commands sold through the Navy? Pett. Who would not follow when the Dutch were beat? Who treated out the time at Bergen? Pett. Who the Dutch fleet with storms disabled met, And, rifling prizes, them neglected? Pett. Who with false news prevented the Gazette, The fleet divided, writ for Rupert? Pett. Who all our seamen cheated of their debt? And all our prizes who did swallow? Pett. Who did advise no navy out to set? And who the forts left unprepared? Pett. Who to supply with powder did forget Languard, Sheerness, Gravesend, and Upnor? Pett. Who all our ships exposed in Chatham net? Who should it be but the fanatick Pett? Pett, the sea-architect, in making ships, Was the first cause of all these naval slips. Had he not built, none of these faults had been; If no creation, there had been no sin But his great crime, one boat away he sent, That lost our fleet, and did our flight prevent.”
The warrant of the Earl of Sandwich, appointing John Hart captain of the Revenge, September 13th, 1665, is among the loose papers in Rawlinson, A. 289. —B. ↩
This was the earliest notice of the air so named that Mr. Willaim Chappell had come across. He was unable to discover the original words (Popular Music of the Olden Time, p. 518). ↩
The Third Part of the Institutes of the Laws of England Concerning High Treason and Other Pleas of the Crown and Criminal Cases, by Sir Edward Coke; London, 1644, folio. ↩
“I shall draw towards a conclusion of this section with a case of very recent memory and of singular notoriety throughout the whole kingdom. I mean that of the conflagration of our ships by the Dutch (June, 1667) not many years past in the river of Chatham. There prevailed at that time an universal jealousy among the people that upon this occasion some sudden stop might be put upon the Exchequer, and thereupon the Bankers were exercised with restless solicitations for the speedy payment of their debts. The king for the sedation of these fears and apprehensions is advised (and to the eternal honour of the persons who gave the advice I write it) to issue forthwith his declaration (see the Declaration at the end of this treatise), to preserve inviolate the course of payments in the Exchequer, which was accordingly done.”
The Case of the Bankers and their Creditors Stated and Examined; the third impression with additions amounting to a third part more than hath been at any time before printed, London, 1675, 8vo, pp. 105, 106
This curious little work, written to show the enormity of shutting up the Exchequer, is composed by Thomas Turnor, as appears by the preliminary letter and by the postscript at the end. The “Declaration” alluded to, which was issued in 1667, is printed in pp. 135–137. —Buckle’s Miscel. and Posth. Works, vol. ii, p. 215. —M. B. ↩
Louis XIV was at this time in Flanders, with his queen, his mistresses, and all his Court. Turenne commanded under him. Whilst Charles was hunting moths at Lady Castlemaine’s, and the English fleet was burning, Louis was carrying on the campaign with vigour. Armentieres was taken on the 28th May; Charleroi on the 2nd June, St. Winox on the 6th, Fumes on the 12th, Ath on the 16th, Toumay on the 24th; the Escarpe on the 6th July, Courtray on the 18th, Audenarde on the 31st; and Lisle on the 27th August. —B. ↩
The Commissioners for regulating the Duke of York’s affairs, in May, 1667, were John, Lord Berkeley of Stratton, Colonel Robert Werden, and Colonel Anthony Eyre. —Household Book, at Audley-End. —B. ↩
At Euston Hall, in Suffolk, on the borders of Norfolk, which afterwards came into the Grafton family by the marriage of the first duke with Lord Arlington’s only child. Among Pepys’s papers (Rawlinson, A. 195, fol. 58) is a document, entitled “Considerations touching the purchase of the Park and Woods near Euston, drawn and presented by Mr. Povy, as his advice to my Lord Arlington, at this time (Oct. 28, 1668) in treaty for the purchase of Euston.” —B. ↩
Henry Oldenburgh, secretary to the Royal Society. The warrant for his arrest is dated June 20th, 1667. The warrant for his discharge is dated August 26th. ↩
A proclamation by the Privy Council “Concerning the Pay of the Navy and Army” was issued on June 25th, 1667, and a proclamation for “Reassembling of Parliament” on June 26th, 1667 (Bibliotheca Lindesiana, “Hand List of Proclamations,” vol. i, 1893). ↩
The Carterets appear to have mystified Pepys, who eagerly believed all that was told him. At this time Paris was notoriously unsafe, infested with robbers and beggars, and abominably unclean. Colbert had three daughters, of whom the eldest was just married when Pepys wrote, viz., Jean Marie Therese, to the Duc de Chevreuse, on the 3rd February, 1667. The second daughter, Henriette Louise, was not married to the Duc de St. Aignan till January 21st, 1671; and the third, Marie Anne, to the Duc de Mortemart, February 14th, 1679. Colbert himself was never made a duke. His highest title was Marquis de Seignelay. —B. ↩
Richard Boyle, eldest son of the great Earl of Cork (1612–1698), succeeded his father as second Earl of Cork in 1643, created Baron Clifford of Lanesborough in 1644, and Earl of Burlington in 1664. ↩
Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick, Lord High Admiral 1643–45, 1648–49. ↩
See May 25th, 1660. Clarendon’s assertion that Batten was an “obscure fellow,” there quoted, is disputed by Professor Laughton in the Dictionary of National Biography. ↩
James, second Marquis of Douglas, and nephew to the Duke of Hamilton. —B. ↩
“The bottom of the Royal James is got afloat, and those of the Loyal London and Royal Oak soon will be so. Many men are at work to put Sheerness in a posture of defence, and a boom is being fitted over the river by Upnor Castle, which with the good fortifications will leave nothing to fear.”
John Conny, writing to Williamson from Chatham, June 17th, 1667, says:
“The Royal Charles is got away. The Dutch are all drawn down the river; there are not many within Sheerness, yet enough to secure their men, who are said to be fortifying the Ness. They have fired what they can of the ships sunk to prevent their approach, and cleared the river except weighing those vessels. The St. George is got afloat. Hopes this high water to recover the Monmouth, Rainbow, Triumph, Unicorn, and Henry.”
Cabala, Mysteries of State, in Letters of the Great Ministers of King James and King Charles. … London, 1654, 4to; second edition, London, 1663, folio; third edition, London, 1691, folio. ↩
Captain William Upcher wrote to the Navy Commissioners on July 8th asking for the situation vacant by the death of John Tooker (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 276). ↩
A son of James Montague, of Lackham, third son of the first Earl of Manchester, by his wife, Mary, daughter of Sir R. Baynard, of Lackham, Wilts. —B. ↩
Richard Browne, writing to Williamson from Aldeburgh, on July 2nd, says:
“The Dutch fleet of 80 sail has anchored in the bay; they were expected to land, but they tacked about, and stood first northward and then southward, close by Orford lighthouse, and have now passed the Ness towards Harwich; they have fired no guns, but made false fires.”
Sir John Kelyng, King’s Serjeant, 1661; appointed a judge of the King’s Bench in 1663, and Chief Justice of the King’s Bench in 1665, and died at his house in Hatton Garden, May 9th, 1671. He was a very unpopular judge. ↩
Sir Joseph Sheldon, Alderman of Farringdon Without, Sheriff in 1666–67, and Lord Mayor, 1675–76. ↩
According to Smith’s Obituary, Gabriel Holmes was hanged on the 11th July, 1667, and buried in the new churchyard of St. Giles’s, Cripplegate. ↩
George Carteret, in 1681 created Baron Carteret of Hawnes, co. Bedford, in consideration of the eminent services rendered by his father and grandfather to Charles II. He married Lady Grace Granville, created Viscountess Carteret and Countess Granville in 1715. Their son John succeeded as second Baron Carteret in 1695, and as Earl Granville in 1744. ↩
Lord Buckhurst and Nell Gwyn, with the help of Sir Charles Sedley, kept “merry house” at Epsom next door to the King’s Head Inn (see Cunningham’s Story of Nell Gwyn, ed. 1892, p. 57) ↩
Alexander VII. He died May 22nd, 1667, N.S. (see note 3186). ↩
Of Clement IX, Giulio Rispogliosi, elected June 20th, 1667, N.S. He was succeeded by Clement X in 1670. ↩
He died at the beginning of December of this year. ↩
This was probably Richard Evelyn, of Woodcote Park, near Epsom, and his wife Elizabeth, daughter and heir of George Mynne, Esq., of Horton, in Epsom, both of which places belonged to her. —B. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter and co-heir of John Massingberd. George, Lord Berkeley, was created Earl of Berkeley in 1679. ↩
Charles, eldest son, K.B. 1661, summoned to parliament as Baron Berkeley of Berkeley, vitâ patris, 1689. Died 1710; having succeeded his father in the earldom, 1698. —B. ↩
Thomas Pointer to Samuel Pepys (Hull, July 15th): “Capt. Hogg has brought in a great prize laden with Canary wine; also Capt. Reeves of the Panther, and the Fanfan, whose commander is slain, have come in with their prizes” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 298). ↩
Grape wine was formerly largely made in England, and much of it was said to be of excellent quality. ↩
The wife of Balthazar St. Michel, Mrs. Pepys’s brother. —B. ↩
Reference has already been made to Andrew Marvell’s Instructions to a Painter, in which the unpaid English sailors are described as swimming to the Dutch ships, where they received the money which was withheld from them on their own ships. ↩
The angel coin was so called from the figure of the Archangel Michael in conflict with the dragon on the obverse. On the reverse was a representation of a ship with a large cross as a mast. The last angel coined was in Charles I’s reign, and the value varied from 6s. 8d. to 10s. ↩
See Lady Theresa Lewis’s Friends and Contemporaries of Lord Chancellor Clarendon; Illustrative of Portraits in His Gallery, 1852. 3 vols. 8vo. —B. ↩
“Bilander. A small merchant vessel with two masts, particularly distinguished from other vessels with two masts by the form of her mainsail, which is bent to the whole length of her yard, hanging fore and aft, and inclined to the horizon at an angle of about 45°. Few vessels are now rigged in this manner, and the name is rather indiscriminately used.”
The peace was signed on the 31st. See August 9th, post. —B. ↩
Created K.B. at Charles II’s coronation, and M.P. for Weymouth in several parliaments. He was the son of John Coventry, the eldest brother of Sir W. Coventry; and the outrage committed on his person, on the 21st December, 1670, by Sir Thomas Sandys, O’Bryan, and others, who cut his nose to the bone, gave rise to the passing of the Bill still known by the name of “The Coventry Act,” under which persons so offending were to suffer death. —B. ↩
Charles owned only four children by Lady Castlemaine-Anne, Countess of Sussex, and the Dukes of Southampton, Grafton, and Northumberland. The last of these was born in 1665. The paternity of all her other children was certainly doubtful. See pp. 50, 52. ↩
Silas Taylor, writing to Williamson, July 25th, 1667, says:
“Hearing the great guns from the Thames and knowing the Dutch stood that way, Sir Joseph Jordan resolved to make towards them with all the force he could muster, provided himself with 50 land-soldiers and what small vessels, frigates, and fire-ships were there, and set sail towards the Spitts, but could not get much beyond the Naze.”
Thomas Page, James Jenifer, and George Coult petitioned the Navy Commissioners, September (?), 1667, for reimbursement of their expenses on the Lily. This ship was lent them as a privateer, and they fitted her up at their own expense, but on June 11th she was recalled as a man-of-war, and so continued till the peace (Calendar, 1667, p. 495). ↩
In De Foe’s History of the Plague, he imagines a like case:
“Another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his waist, crying day and night, like a man that Josephus mentions, who cried, Woe to Jerusalem! a little before the destruction of that city. So this poor naked creature cried, O, the great and the dreadful God! and said no more, but repeated those words continually, with a voice and countenance full of horror, a swift pace, and nobody could ever find him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, at least that ever I could hear of. I met this poor creature several times in the streets, and would have spoke to him, but he would not enter into speech with me or any one else; but held on his dismal cries continually.”
Baronet, of Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and one of the proposed Knights of the Royal Oak for that county. —B. ↩
Sir Henry Bellasys, K.B., was member for Great Grimsby, in which seat he was succeeded by Sir Fretcheville Holies. ↩
Gilbert Sheldon. It is difficult to deal in a short note with such an infamous charge as this. It is impossible to leave it unnoticed, and yet to acknowledge it as one necessary to be refuted almost seems an insult to the archbishop’s memory. It will be observed that this is all pure gossip, and the mere scandal of those who hate to acknowledge that others are better than themselves. Archbishop Sheldon had bitter enemies, but there is no hint of immorality given by any of them. Professor Montagu Burrows has well vindicated Sheldon’s character in his valuable work on the Worthies of All Souls. He tells me that he overlooked the scandal recorded by Pepys, and therefore did not notice it in his book. He writes:
“I know of nothing like a confirmation, nor did Pepys seem to have any proof whatever. In such cases we can only quote the character given by his friends and acquaintances, as you see I have done, without knowing this story. It is quite incredible.”
Henry Glemham, D.D., installed Dean of Bristol, 1660. He was elected Bishop of St. Asaph, February 7th, 1666–67, and died January 17th, 1669–70. ↩
Lincoln was vacant by the translation of Benjamin Laney to Ely, on the 24th of May, previously. William Fuller, Bishop of Limerick, was elected Bishop of Lincoln on the 17th September following. —B. ↩
Dr. Edward Rainbow was Bishop of Carlisle from 1664 to 1684. —B. ↩
Edward Pepys, of Broomsthorpe, who married Elizabeth Walpole. The author’s own wife could not be included amongst the plain women whom the Pepyses married?—it is otherwise well for his domestic peace that he wrote in cipher. —B. ↩
Henry Jermyn, created Baron Dover of Dover in 1685, and Earl of Dover by James II in 1689. ↩
Mary, Countess of Falmouth, remarried Charles, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards the sixth Earl of Dorset. Jermyn married Jane, daughter of Sir Edward Foley. ↩
In the play of Epicene, or the Silent Woman, Mrs. Otter thus addresses her henpecked husband, Thomas Otter—
“Is this according to the instrument when I married you, that I would be princess and reign in my own house, and you would be my subject, and obey me?”
The Lord Mayor’s Banqueting House, where the Lord Mayor and Corporation dined after their periodical visits to the Bayswater and Paddington conduits and the Conduit Head adjacent to the Banqueting House. Stratford Place, Oxford Street, was built on the site about 1775. ↩
King Edward VI, on June 28th, 1 Edw. VI, granted the “House of Neate” to Sir Anthony Browne. Stow’s Continuators describe this place as “a parcel of houses taken up by gardeners for planting of asparagus,” etc. They were situated on the low ground by the Thames side west of Vauxhall Bridge. The ground was raised by the transportation of the soil from St. Katherine’s when the docks were made, and now the parish of St. Gabriel’s, Pimlico, occupies the site of the Neat Houses. ↩
Within the hollow of the trunk of Sir Philip Sidney’s oak at Penshurst, celebrated by several of our poets, was a seat which contained five or six persons with ease and convenience. Pepys probably means a summerhouse erected in the branches. A few years since one existed near Beckenham, in Kent. —B. ↩
Evelyn heard Signor Francisco play on the harpsichord on December 2nd, 1674. He wrote that the signor was “esteemed one of the most excellent masters in Europe on that instrument” (Diary). ↩
“Sept. 6, 1667. John Clarke to James Hickes. A vessel arrived from Harwich brings news that the English lost 600 to 700 men in the attempt on St. Christopher; that Sir John Harman was not then there, but going with 11 ships, and left a ketch at Barbados to bring more soldiers after him; that the ketch met a French sloop with a packet from St. Christopher to their fleet at Martinico, and took her, whereupon Sir John Harman sailed there and fell upon their fleet of 27 sail, 25 of which he sank, and burnt the others, save two which escaped; also that he left three of his fleet there, and went with the rest to Nevis, to make another attempt on St. Christopher.
A comedy by James Shirley, apparently acted at the Cockpit in 1625, but not published till 1667. ↩
The peace was signed at Breda on the 31st July. There were three separate acts, or instruments—the first, between France and England, by which D’Estrades and Courtin agreed that all conquests made during the war should be mutually restored; the second, between England and Denmark; the third, between England and Holland. In this last it is to be observed that England retained the right of the flag. —B. ↩
“. Hope. Sir Edward Spragg to Williamson. It was his misfortune to go to London the Monday before the action in the Hope, on the King’s affairs. Left directions with his lieutenant to carry his flag if he found opportunity of doing service, but if not, and if he retired, to strike it, which he very well observed; the gentleman that writes the Gazette has made a greater lie than the first, perhaps by the malice of some that durst not nor would do what the writer did. Was two hours aboard before he came to anchor, and then did so within gunshot of the enemy. Is sure he did the King and country service, and had he been one of the King’s rebels, it would not have been forgotten. Gave many broadsides, and pressed them so much that he obliged them to quit and fire one of their fireships. Has come with his great squadron into the Hope, and brought a Swedish ship laden with deals, which the enemy quitted when pursued, taking their men out.”
To Herringman’s, at the Blue Anchor, in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange. He published Mrs. Phillips’s Poems, Cowley’s Poems, Davenant’s Works, and was the great predecessor of Jacob Tonson. He died rich, and is buried under a handsome monument at Chislehurst, in Kent —B. ↩
The manuscript of Sprat’s History of the Royal Society was seen by Oldenburgh in 1664, but the book was not presented to the society till the meeting of October 10th, 1667, when Dr. Wilkins submitted it (see August 16th, 1667). The Rev. Thomas Sprat, D.D., became Dean of Westminster in 1683 and Bishop of Rochester in 1684. He held both preferments till his death, May 20th, 1713 (when he was aged seventy-six). He was buried in the abbey. ↩
Catherine Fowler, wife of James Phillips, of Cardigan, and once celebrated as a distinguished poetess; best known as “the matchless Orinda.” She died at the early age of thirty-three in 1664; but the praise of her contemporaries has not been sufficient to preserve her works from oblivion. —B. ↩
The collected edition of Denham’s poems is dated 1668. The verses referred to are inscribed “To Sir John Mennis being invited from Calice to Bologne to eat a pig,” and two of the lines run:
“Little Admiral John To Bologne is gone.”
This occurrence took place before the Restoration. ↩
We have here a striking instance of the slow communication of intelligence. Cowley died on the 28th of July, at Chertsey; and Pepys, though in London, and at all times a great newsmonger, did not learn till the 10th of August that so distinguished a person was dead. Evelyn says that he attended Cowley’s funeral on the 3rd of August, and the Registers of Westminster Abbey corroborate his statement (Chester’s Westminster Abbey Registers, p. 166). Cowley’s corpse lay in state at Wallingford House, then the residence of the Duke of Buckingham. —B. ↩
Flagellum: or the History of the Life and Death, Birth and Burial of Oliver Cromwell, the late Usurper, by J[ames] H[eath], Gent. London, 1663, 4to, and frequently reprinted. ↩
The Discovery of Witchcraft, by Reginald Scot, Esq. London, 1584, 4to; second edition, 1651; third edition, 1665. ↩
Downes says that the duke gave this comedy to Dryden, who adapted it to the stage; but it is entered on the books of the Stationers Company as the production of his grace. —B. ↩
Pepys here, as elsewhere, took the second title of the piece, as, perhaps, it appeared in the bills of the day. He alludes to the revival of a play by Thomas Heywood, originally printed in 1605, under the title of If You Know Not Me, You Know Nobody, or the Troubles of Queen Elizabeth, which especially relates to the defeat of the Armada in 1588. It was so popular that it went through eight or nine early editions. In 1667 it was no doubt brought out with some alterations, but probably not printed. —B. ↩
John Bide, brewer, Sheriff of London in 1647. —B. ↩
The church of St. Catherine Cree, having escaped the Fire, was resorted to by the Corporation after the destruction of St. Paul’s and so many other ecclesiastical edifices; and Pepys probably expected to see alterations made for their accommodation. —B. ↩
Betty Turner, who is frequently mentioned after this date, appears to have been a daughter of Serjeant John Turner and his wife Jane, and younger sister of Theophila Turner (see January 4th, 6th, 1668–69). ↩
John Thompson was vicar of St. Dunstan’s-in-the-West from 1662 to 1677, in which year he died. ↩
Sir William Coventry’s proposal for reducing the charge of the navy was adopted by the king in council on March 16th, 1668–69. The order and the proposal are printed from the “Warrant Books” in Penn’s Memorials of Sir William Penn, vol. ii, p. 527. ↩
This could scarcely be the famous John Blow, as he would then have been nineteen years of age. ↩
Shooting the men was rather more than “a show of severity.” —B. ↩
The post of Master Falconer was afterwards granted to Charles’s son by Nell Gwyn, and it is still held by the Duke of St. Albans, as an hereditary office. —B. ↩
Nell Gwyn agreed with Pepys that serious parts were unsuited to her. In an Epilogue to the tragedy of the Duke of Lerma, spoken by her, occur these lines:
“I know you, in your hearts, Hate serious plays—as I hate serious parts.”
The “boot” was originally a projection on each side of the coach, where the passengers sat with their backs to the carriage. Such a “boot” is seen in the carriage containing the attendants of Queen Elizabeth, in Hoefnagel’s well-known picture of Nonsuch Palace, dated 1582. Taylor, the Water Poet, the inveterate opponent of the introduction of coaches, thus satirizes the one in which he was forced to take his place as a passenger: “It wears two boots and no spurs, sometimes having two pairs of legs in one boot; and oftentimes against nature most preposterously it makes fair ladies wear the boot. Moreover, it makes people imitate sea-crabs, in being drawn sideways, as they are when they sit in the boot of the coach.” In course of time these projections were abolished, and the coach then consisted of three parts, viz., the body, the boot (on the top of which the coachman sat), and the baskets at the back. ↩
Charles Hart, great-nephew of Shakespeare, a favourite actor. He is credited with being Nell Gwyn’s first lover (or Charles I, as the wits put it), and with having brought her on the stage. He died of stone, and was buried at Stanmore Magna, Middlesex, where he had a country house. ↩
Lord Buckhurst’s liaison with Nell Gwyn probably came to an end about this time. We learn from Pepys that in January, 1667–68, the king sent several times for Nelly (see January 11th, 1667–68). Nell’s eldest son by Charles II, Charles Beauclerc, was not born till May 8th, 1670. He was created Earl of Burford in 1676 and Duke of St. Albans in 1684. ↩
Clarendon refers to this scene in the continuation of his Life (ed. 1827, vol. iii, p. 291), and Lister writes:
“Lady Castlemaine rose hastily from her noontide bed, and came out into her aviary, anxious to read in the saddened air of her distinguished enemy some presage of his fall.”
William Barker, who married Martha, daughter of William Turner, and widow of Daniel Williams. His son William was created a baronet in 1676. —B. ↩
Colonel Robert Werden afterwards held office under James II and Queen Mary, and obtained the rank of major-general. His eldest son, John, was created a baronet in 1672. See note 3485. ↩
The well-known story, first told by Boccaccio, then by Petrarca, afterwards by Chaucer, and which has since become proverbial. Tom Warton, writing about 1770, says, “I need not mention that it is to this day represented in England, on a stage of the lowest species, and of the highest antiquity: I mean at a puppet show” (Hist. of English Poetry, sect. xv). —B. ↩
Sir Orlando Bridgman (1608–1674) was appointed Lord Keeper on August 30th, but no successor was appointed to take his place at the Common Pleas till May, 1668, when Sir John Vaughan became Chief Justice. During the interval Bridgman filled both offices. ↩
Sir Geofifrey Palmer continued to hold the office of Attorney-General until 1670. ↩
Sir Heneage Finch also continued as Solicitor-General till 1670, when he was succeeded by Sir Edward Turner. ↩
In a service which Lock wrote for the Chapel Royal he set each response to the commandments in a different way. He published his setting with a preface, in which he abused those who disapproved of his innovation, under the title, “Modern Church Music, Pre-accused, Censured and Obstructed in its Performance before his Majesty, April 1st, 1666. Vindicated by the Author, Matt. Lock, Composer-in-Ordinary to His Majesty.” ↩
The point laces of Genoa, which were so much prized in the seventeenth century, were all the work of the pillow (Planché’s Cyclopædia of Costume, Lace). ↩
Captain Thomas Cooke was master of the Tennis Court at Whitehall, which probably was a reproduction of the one at Hampton Court (Julian Marshall’s Annals of Tennis, 1878, p. 88). ↩
“His very dog at council board Sits grave and wise as any lord.”
Poems, 1697, p. 150
The king’s dogs were constantly stolen from him, and he advertised for their return. Some of these amusing advertisements are printed in Notes and Queries (seventh series, vol. vii, p. 26). ↩
John Guillim (1565–1621) published in 1610 his famous work, entitled, A Display of Heraldry, which went through many editions. It has been asserted that Guillim’s work was really written by the Rev. John Barkham, but assertions of this character are usually untrustworthy, and an inspection of Guillim’s manuscript has proved that the charge is unjust. See Dict. of Nat. Biog. (John Barkham and John Guillim). Scott well represents the use made of the Heraldry in many families, when he says old Sir Hildebrand Osbaldiston took up Guillim for Sunday reading. ↩
This was most likely Francis Cresset, a Shropshire gentleman, whose father and brother had fallen in the king’s service during the Civil War, and he was on that account strongly recommended to Charles II at the Restoration (Kennet’s Register). —B. ↩
Nova Scotia is rich in minerals. The coalfields are valuable and productive, and there are immense deposits of bituminous shale. Gold is found in workable quantities, and iron abounds. Veins of copper, silver, lead, and galena also exist. ↩
Henry Hyde, Viscount Cornbury, born June 2nd, 1638, eldest son of Lord Chancellor Clarendon, to whose title he succeeded in 1674. He was made Lord Privy Seal on the accession of James II, and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in December, 1685. He died 1709. ↩
A vestige of the old custom of tasting, or assay. —B. ↩
Master of the Ceremonies from 1641 to 1686, when he resigned in favour of his son. —B. ↩
Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Beaumont, of Staughton in Leicestershire, widow of Sir John Ashburnham, and mother of John Ashburnham and William Ashburnham, the Cofferer, remarried Sir Thomas Richardson, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas. She was, in 1629, created Baroness Cramond, in Scotland, for her life only, with remainder to the heirs male of her second husband by a former wife. No reason is assigned for this strange limitation of the patent. ↩
This anecdote is confirmed in Chief Justice Treby’s Notes to Dyer’s Reports, folio edition, p. 188, b.
“Richardson, Ch. Just, de C. Banc, al Assises at Salisbury, in summer 1631, fuit assault per prisoner la condemne pur felony; que puis son condemnation, ject un brickbat a le dit Justice, qui narrowly mist; et pur ceo immediately fuit indictment drawn, per Noy [the Attorney General], envers le prisoner, et son dexter manus ampute, and fix at gibbet, sur que luy meme immediatement hange in presence de Court.”
The Chief Justice happened to be leaning low on his elbow when the stone was thrown, so it flew too high, and only took off his hat. Soon after, some friends congratulating him on his escape, he replied (as his fashion was to make a jest of everything), “If I had been an upright Judge, I had been slain.” —Thoms’s Anecdotes and Traditions. —B. ↩
In 1652. See an account of it in Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion, book xiii, and of Sir John Berkeley’s part in the matter, to which he is said to have owed his peerage. —B. ↩
Francis Chaplin, cloth-worker, son of Robert Chaplin of Bury St. Edmund’s; Sheriff of London in 1668, knighted, Alderman of Vintry Ward, and Lord Mayor in 1677. ↩
The Ungrateful Lovers is an odd title; and no play of that name has been traced. It probably is intended for Davenant’s Unfortunate Lovers, first published in 1643. ↩
George Villiers, fourth Viscount Grandison, and younger brother of Lady Castlemaine’s father, who had died without issue male. —B. ↩
This play, which was called Greene’s Tu Quoque, or the City Gallant, on account of the celebrity of the actor, Thomas Greene, in the part of Bubble, was written by John Cooke, and first printed in 1614, having been edited by the well-known dramatist, Thomas Heywood. It is reprinted in all the editions of Dodsley’s Old Plays. ↩
Edgar Stuart, fourth son of James, Duke of York, born September 14th, 1667; created Baron of Dantrey and Earl and Duke of Cambridge, October 7th. He was the third son of James who had borne the title of Duke of Cambridge, and died June 8th, 1671. ↩
Nothing is known of this play except what is told us by Pepys. ↩
These three persons were members of the late Music Society, in the Old Jewry, to whom Playford dedicated his Catch That Catch Can; or the Metrical Companion. Some of Wallington’s compositions are in that work, and in a collection called New Ayres and Dialogues, Composed for Voices and Viols. London, 1678, 8vo. —B. ↩
The Hon. Robert Boyle’s work, entitled, Some Considerations Touching the Style of the Holy Scriptures, was published in 1661, and a fourth edition appeared in 1675. It was translated into Latin, and the translation published at Oxford in 1665, Cogitationes de S. Scripturæ stylo. ↩
Henry, Lord Herbert, only son of Edward, second Marquis of Worcester, whom he succeeded in the title in April, 1667. He was created Duke of Beaufort on December 2nd, 1682, and died January 21st, 1699. He refused to take the oaths under William III. ↩
Sir Samuel Morland’s first wife, Susanne, daughter of Daniel de Milleville, Baron of Boissay in Normandy, whom he married in 1657. ↩
The Flying Greyhound is frequently mentioned in the Calendar of State Papers. ↩
Winchcombe St. Peter, a market-town in Gloucestershire. Tobacco was first cultivated in this parish, after its introduction into England, in 1583, and it proved, a considerable source of profit to the inhabitants, till the trade was placed under restrictions. The cultivation was first prohibited during the Commonwealth, and various acts were passed in the reign of Charles II for the same purpose. Among the king’s pamphlets in the British Museum is a tract entitled Harry Hangman’s Honour, or Glostershire Hangman’s Request to the Smokers and Tobacconists of London, dated June 11th, 1655. The author writes: “The very planting of tobacco hath proved the decay of my trade, for since it hath been planted in Glostershire, especially at Winchcomb, my trade hath proved nothing worth.” He adds: “Then ’twas a merry world with me, for indeed before tobacco was there planted, there being no kind of trade to employ men, and very small tillage, necessity compelled poor men to stand my friends by stealing of sheep and other cattel, breaking of hedges, robbing of orchards, and whatnot.” ↩
All Mistaken; or, the Mad Couple, a comedy by the Hon. James Howard, published in 1672. Hart and Nell Gwyn acted Philidor and Mirida, the mad couple. ↩
The tract alluded to was called A True and Faithful Account of the several Informations exhibited to the Honourable Committee appointed by the Parliament to enquire into the late dreadful burning of the City of London, 1667. Reprinted in the Antiquarian Repertory, vol. i, p. 123. —B. ↩
Lord Ashley (afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury) resided in a house on the east side of Aldersgate Street, which was built by Inigo Jones for the Earl of Thanet, and was long known as Thanet House. ↩
Margaret, sixth daughter of William, second Lord Spencer of Wormleighton, was third wife of Lord Ashley. She died 1694. Dugdale mistakenly styles her his second wife. ↩
“Coaches with glasses were then a late invention, the ladies were afraid of being shut up in them: they greatly preferred the pleasure of showing almost their whole persons to the conveniences of modern coaches.”
This remarkable fact is confirmed by Evelyn, in a letter to Sir Samuel Tuke, September 27th, 1666. See Correspondence, vol. iii, p. 345, edit. 1879. ↩
The Sea Voyage, a play borrowed from Shakespeare’s Tempest, and first acted in 1622. Published in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Comedies and Tragedies, 1647. ↩
John Napier or Neper (1550–1617), laird of Merchiston (now swallowed up in the enlarged Edinburgh of today, although the old castle still stands), and the inventor of logarithms. He published his Rabdologiæ seu numerationis per virgulas libri duo in 1617, and the work was reprinted and translated into Italian (1623) and Dutch (1626). In 1667 William Leybourn published The Art of Numbering by Speaking Rods, Vulgarly Termed Napier’s Bones. ↩
Mrs. Knight, a celebrated singer and mistress of Charles II. There is in Waller’s Poems a song sung by her to the queen on her birthday. In her portrait, engraved by Faber, after Kneller, she is represented in mourning, and in a devout posture before a crucifix. Evelyn refers to her singing as incomparable, and adds that she had “the greatest reach of any English woman; she had been lately roaming in Italy, and was much improv’d in that quality” (Diary, December 2nd, 1674). ↩
He succeeded Sir Henry Bellassis, who had been returned for Grimsby on the death of Sir Adrian Scrope, and who had been killed in the duel with Porter. ↩
Tarugo’s Wiles, or, the Coffee House, a comedy by Thomas St. Serfe; printed in 1668. Great part of the plot is founded on the Spanish comedy, No puede ser. See the Earl of Dorset’s lines on this play, printed in his Works. ↩
Dinah Dunster wrote to the Navy Commissioners, September 13th, 1667, asking them “to send somebody to look after the Maybolt galliot, her husband the late master being dead, and the mate and seamen sick” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 461). Captain Henry Southwood was in command of the Maybolt in November, 1667 (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, pp. 31, 37). ↩
Bishops Stortford, a town of some antiquity in Hertfordshire, 32¼ miles N.N.E. of London. ↩
Elizabeth Aynsworth, here mentioned, was a noted procurerss at Cambridge, banished from that town by the university authorities for her evil courses. She subsequently kept the Rein Deer Inn at Bishops Stortford, at which the Vice-Chancellor, and some of the heads of colleges, had occasion to sleep, in their way to London, and were nobly entertained, their supper being served off plate. The next morning their hostess refused to make any charge, saying, that she was still indebted to the Vice-Chancellor, who, by driving her out of Cambridge, had made her fortune. No tradition of this woman has been preserved at Bishops Stortford; but it appears, from the register of that parish, that she was buried there 26th of March, 1686. It is recorded in the History of Essex, vol. iii, (p. 130) 8vo, 1770, and in a pamphlet in the British Museum, entitled, Boteler’s Case, that she was implicated in the murder of Captain Wood, a Hertfordshire gentleman, at Manuden, in Essex, and for which offence a person named Boteler was executed at Chelmsford, September 10th, 1667, and that Mrs. Aynsworth, tried at the same time as an accessory before the fact, was acquitted for want of evidence; though in her way to the jail she endeavoured to throw herself into the river, but was prevented. See May 25th, 1668. —B. ↩
From the Duke of Newcastle’s play, which was altered and prepared for the stage by Dryden. ↩
Mr. George T. Robinson, F.S.A., in a paper on Decorative Plaster Work, read before the Society of Arts in April, 1891, refers to the ceilings at Audley End as presenting an excellent idea of the state of the stuccoer’s art in the middle of James I’s reign, and adds,
“Few houses in England can show so fine a series of the same date. … The great hall has medallions, in the square portions of the ceiling formed by its dividing timber beams. The large saloon on the principal floor—a room about 66 feet long by 30 feet wide—has a very remarkable ceiling of the pendentive type, which presents many peculiarities, the most notable of which, that these not only depend from the ceiling, but the outside ones spring from the walls in a natural and structural manner. This is a most unusual circumstance in the stucco work of the time, the reason for the omission of this reasonable treatment evidently being the unwillingness of the stuccoer to omit his elaborate frieze in which he took such delight.”
This portrait of Henry VIII, and many other pictures formerly at Audley-End, passed into the hands of the Skeffington family; they were dispersed at the auction at Skeffington Hall, many years ago (see Nichols’s Leicestershire). —B. ↩
Mr. George T. Robinson, F.S.A., in a paper on Decorative Plaster Work, read before the Society of Arts in April, 1891, refers to the ceilings at Audley End as presenting an excellent idea of the state of the stuccoer’s art in the middle of James I’s reign, and adds, “Few houses in England can show so fine a series of the same date … The great hall has medallions in the square portions of the ceiling formed by its dividing timber beams. The large saloon on the principal floor-a room about 66 feet long by 30 feet wide-has a very remarkable ceiling of the pendentive type, which presents many peculiarities, the most notable of which, that these not only depend from the ceiling, but the outside ones spring from the walls in a natural and structural manner. This is a most unusual circumstance in the stucco work of the time, the reason for the omission of this reasonable treatment evidently being the unwillingness of the stuccoer to omit his elaborate frieze in which he took such delight” (Journal Soc. of Arts, vol. xxxix, p. 449) ↩
John Howarth, D.D., Prebendary of Peterborough and Master of Magdalene, was Vice-Chancellor, 1666–67. ↩
She became the wife of Sir Richard Edgecumbe, and by him had a son, Richard, created an English baron in 1742. She married, secondly, the Hon. Christopher Montagu, elder brother of Charles, Lord Halifax. —B. ↩
A low bedstead moving on wheels or castors, which ran in under the principal bed.
“With a chain and a trundle-bed following at th’ heels, And will they not cry then, the world runs a-wheels?”
The twins were the third and fourth sons of Lord Sandwich: Oliver Montagu, afterwards M.P. for Huntingdon, and in 1685 Solicitor-General to the Queen; he died unmarried in 1693: and John Montagu, made Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1683, and Dean of Durham, 1699, who also died a bachelor in 1728–29. —B. ↩
Nun’s Bridge is still in existence, and known by that name. It is at the foot of Hinchingbrooke Hill, and adjoining to some old ponds which belonged to the house when a nunnery. —B. ↩
About the year 1842, in removing the foundation of an old wall, adjoining a mansion at Brampton, always considered the quondam residence of the Pepys family, an iron pot, full of silver coins, was discovered, and taken to the Earl of Sandwich, the owner of the house, in whose possession they still remain. The pot was so much corroded, that a small piece of it only could be preserved. The coins were chiefly half-crowns of Elizabeth and the two elder Stuarts, and all of a date anterior to the Restoration. Although Pepys states that the treasure which he caused to be buried was gold exclusively, it is very probable that, in the confusion, a pot full of silver money was packed up with the rest; but, at all events, the coincidence appeared too singular to pass over without notice. —B. ↩
At the meeting of Parliament on October 10th, 1667, the king made a speech of about ten lines, in which he said,
“The other reasons of that prorogation [eleven weeks before], and some other matters with which I would acquaint you, I have commanded my Lord Keeper to declare unto you.”
He seems to have forgotten his visit on the 12th. —B. ↩
“At the Cambridge Assizes, held before Justice Kelynge, March 9th, 1664, Roger Pepys, the Recorder, was bound over to his good behaviour for speaking slightly of Lord Chief Justice Hyde at the Town Sessions, on an appeal by Dr. Eade against a poor-rate.”
Sir John Kelyng, Serjeant, 1660, and engaged on the part of the crown to advise with the judges relative to the proceedings to be adopted against the regicides. Returned as Member of Parliament for Bedford in May, 1661, he prepared the Act of Uniformity passed in 1662. Appointed judge of the King’s Bench in 1663 and Chief Justice in 1665. No special record of the “high proceedings” referred to by Pepys is to be found in the Parliamentary History; but his conduct was complained of, and the House of Commons voted his proceedings to be illegal and tending to the introduction of arbitrary government. His conduct as a judge was considered to be harsh and insulting. He died at his home in Hatton Garden, May 9th, 1671 (Foss’s Judges). See December 13th. ↩
Captain Henry Nicoll petitioned the king, October 17th, 1667, “for an abatement in the price of the Sea Fortune, of Amsterdam, and the Wild Boar, which was purchased for £1,000, to bring timber from Ireland for the rebuilding of London” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667, p. 531). Petition of Major Heniy Nicoll to the king, “for a grant of the Golden Hand flyboat, with all her furniture and apparel, at the same price as he paid for the Wildboar, and for orders to the Duke of York and the Navy Commissioners to give him possession thereof forthwith, they taking the same security as was ordered for the Wildboar … [he] asked for the Wildboar prize-ship at a reasonable price and convenient time for payment, which was granted, but after being at great charge in rigging and setting her forth to sea, she foundered on her voyage, and 15 men perished in her, whereby he was deprived of the means of bringing over the timber, or of paying his debts” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, p. 110). ↩
The Black Prince, by Roger, Earl of Orrery, is styled a tragedy, although the play ends happily. It was first published in 1669. ↩
Lady Berkeley was Christiana, daughter of Sir Andrew Rickard, and widow of Henry Rich, Lord Kensington. —B. ↩
It occurs in the fifth act, and is certainly very long. It was read by Hart, but was afterwards omitted in the acting. See October 23rd, 1667. —B. ↩
This question of the division of the fleet in May, 1666, was one over which endless controversy as to responsibility was raised. When Prince Rupert, with twenty ships, was detached to prevent the junction of the French squadron with the Dutch, the Duke of Albemarle was left with fifty-four ships against eighty belonging to the Dutch. Albemarle’s tactics are praised by Captain Mahan. ↩
Captain Ch. O’Brien. “Warrant to the Duke of York to deliver to Capt. O’Brian the prize-ship St. Mary of St. Jean de Luz, as a free gift in consideration of service, Nov. 20, 1667” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, p. 31). ↩
The slackening of sail owing to the directions of Henry Brouncker, in contravention of the Duke of York’s order, is commented upon and discussed in the Rev. J. S. Clarke’s Life of James II (1816, vol. i, pp. 415–17, 421). It is there stated that Brouncker’s arguments to Cox and Harman were at first rejected, but Harman at last shortened sail, being imposed upon by Brouncker’s false message from the duke. The duke was kept in ignorance of what had been done, and it is said that a strange concurrence of accidents kept the duke in ignorance. Brouncker was expelled from the House of Commons on account of his conduct, but he does not appear to have lost the favour of the king or of the duke. ↩
The Duke of York’s shortening sail in the Dutch fight is attributed, ironically, by Sir John Denham, to his Duchess’s anxiety for his safety:
“She therefore the Duke’s person recommends To Brouncker, Penn, and Coventry, her friends; To Penn much, Brouncker more, most Coventry; For they, she knew, were all more ’fraid than he. ⋮ When a sweet sleep began the Duke to drown, And with soft diadems his temples crown: And first he orders all the rest to watch, And they the foe, whilst he a nap doth catch: But lo, Brouncker, by a secret instinct, Slept on, nor heeded; he all day had winked. The Duke in bed, he then first draws his steel, Whose virtue makes the misled compass wheel. So ere He waked, both Fleets were innocent, And Brouncker member is of Parliament.”
“. This day having been appointed for the laying of the foundation of the Royal Exchange in the place where it formerly stood, His Majesty was pleased to be present, and assisting at the solemnity; and accordingly went on horseback, attended by several persons of quality of the Court, to the place, where the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, the Sheriffs, and a Committee of the Mercers’ Company, waited to receive him. His Majesty, with the usual ceremonies, placed the first stone, and was afterwards entertained on the place with an excellent treat, where he was pleased to confer the honour of knighthood on the two sheriffs, Mr. Dennis Gauden and Mr. Thomas Davis.”
Rugge’s Diurnal
This (the second) building for the Royal Exchange was designed by Edward Jarman. It was burnt January 10th, 1838. ↩
Thomas Davies (or Davis), bookseller, was son of John Davies, of London, and Lord Mayor in 1676–77. He was born in 1631, and educated at St. Paul’s School. Died in 1679, and was buried in St. Sepulchre’s Church, Snow Hill, where there is a monument to his memory (see note 1605). ↩
Hugh Audley, the usurer. See November 23rd, 1662. He held an office in the Court of Wards, and is said to have lost £100,000 by its abolition. ↩
William Smith was an actor with a commanding person. He occupied a prominent position on the stage, and retired between 1684 and 1688. Betterton’s part in The Villain was Monsieur Brisac; Mahgni, the villain, was taken by Sandford. See note 1571. ↩
The trumpet marine is a stringed instrument having a triangular-shaped body or chest and a long neck, a single string raised on a bridge and running along the body and neck. It was played with a bow. Hawkins refers very fully to the trumpet marine, and quotes an extract from the London Gazette (February 4th, 1674) giving an account of “a concert of four Trumpets marine, never heard of before in England.” Pepys’s reference proves this statement to be wrong. There is a paper on the musical notes of the trumpet and trumpet marine by Francis Roberts in the Philosophical Transactions (No. 193, 1692). The trumpet marine was a favourite instrument of Mons. Jourdain (Bourgeois Gentilhomme). ↩
Colonel John Birch, M.P. for Penryn (see note 655). Burnet says of Birch: he “was a man of a peculiar character. He had been a carrier at first, and retained still, even to an affectation, the clownishness of his education. He got up in the progress of the war to be a colonel, and to be concerned in the excise. And at the Restoration he was found to be so useful in managing the excise that he was put in a good post. He was the roughest and boldest speaker in the house, and talked in the language and phrases of a carrier, but with a beauty and eloquence that was always acceptable. He spoke always with much life and heat, but judgment was not his talent.” ↩
Colonel Chester proved that this story was incorrect (see note 2047). Sir Peter Leycester, who married a daughter of Lord Gerard, of Bromley, observes, in his History of Cheshire, that “the two famous women-actors in London” were daughters of ⸻ Marshall, chaplain to Lord G., by Elizabeth, bastard daughter of John Button, of Button. Sir Peter being connected by marriage with the Buttons, ought to have known the fact. ↩
Sir William Morice (1602–1676) was related through his wife to the Duke of Albemarle, and helped him in bringing about the Restoration. In February, 1659–60, Charles II bestowed upon Morice, with General Monk’s approval, “the seal and signet of the secretary of state’s office.” According to Mr. W. P. Courtney (Dict. Nat. Biog.), “his friends endeavoured in 1666 to make out that he was principal secretary of state, above Lord Arlington, but failed in their attempt, and at Michaelmas, 1668, Morice found his position so intolerable that he resigned his office and retired to his property, where he spent the rest of his days in collecting a fine library and in studying literature.” ↩
John Turner, B.D., whose ancestors were of Hemel Hemsted, had been a Fellow of Magdalene College, Cambridge, and became rector of Eynesbury in 1649. He resigned the living, of which Lord Sandwich was the patron, to his son, Edward Turner, in 1689; and dying in 1705, aged eighty-four, had sepulture in the parish church. —B. ↩
Captain Edward Hill.
“May 15th, 1667, M. Wren to the Navy Commissioners. Pray examine at once the men of the Coventry as to the loss of that ship, as some of those are going on a voyage, and Captain Hill (formerly commander) will be in great distress, not knowing where to find others who were present at the loss of the ship.”
“A Copy of ye Duke of Albemarle’s Narrative brought in to ye House of Com̃ons by Sir Robert Brooks, Octob. 21, 1667,” commencing, “Being desired by the House of Com̃ons to impart what I have observed or known of any miscarriages in the late Warr, and particularly concerning the devision of the Fleet in the year 1666, I shall herein relate all I can during my being at sea, with respect to the shortness of the time and the want of many of my papers occasioned by the losse of Sir William Clarke, who attended me in the sea service and was slaine in it;” and “A Copy of Prince Rupert’s Narrative brought in to ye House of Com̃ons by the Lord Ancram, Octob. 31, 1667,” will be found in Harl. MS. 7170 (Brit. Mus.). The narratives are printed in Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix, p. 11. ↩
Pelham Humfrey, who had been educated under Captain Henry Cooke, was admitted a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal in 1666, and distinguished himself so much as to excite the envy of his instructor, who is said to have died of discontent at his pupil’s excelling him. Humfrey succeeded him as Master of the Children in 1672, but his career was very short; for he died at Windsor, July 14th, 1674, aged twenty-seven, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. He was sent abroad by Charles II in 1664, and received from secret service moneys £200 in 1664, £100 in 1665, and £150 in 1666, “to defray the charge of his journey into France and Italy.” In Paris he was instructed by Lully, whose methods he introduced into England. ↩
William Cartwright, actor, who became a bookseller in Turnstile Alley during the period of the Commonwealth. He was after the Restoration one of Killigrew’s company, at the original establishment in Drury Lane. He died in December, 1687, and by his will, dated 1686, he left his books, pictures, and furniture to Dulwich College, where also his portrait still remains. ↩
We have already seen that Pepys’s ancestors were seated at Cottenham, in Cambridgeshire, from which place a late Lord Chancellor of that name derived his title. —B. ↩
The Duke of Buckingham was his enemy, and there was a design to impeach the Duke of Ormond, but this was abandoned. There was great dissatisfaction in Ireland at his removal from the Lord Lieutenant-ship. ↩
The Fraternity of Woodmongers, or Fuellers, was incorporated by James I on the 29th August, 1605, and the Woodmongers’ Hall was situated in Duke’s Place, Aldgate. In 1665 the company surrendered its charter, but by an act of the Common Council in 1694 it obtained the privilege of keeping one hundred and twenty carts. It is now merged in the Company of Carters. The House of Commons was much occupied about this time with the misdoings of the Woodmongers. ↩
James Allestry, bookseller, who lost his property in the Great Fire. His son Jacob Allestry was a poetical writer. ↩
Lady Frances Cranfield, daughter of Lionel, first Earl of Middlesex, and wife of Richard Sackville, fifth Earl of Dorset. She was mother of the celebrated Lord Buckhurst. ↩
Evidently the song sung by Ferdinand, wherein Ariel echoes “Go thy way” (act iii, sc. 4), from Davenant’s and Dryden’s adaptation of the Tempest, published in 1674. The music was by Banister. —B. ↩
The “Heads of the Charges brought against Lord Clarendon in the House of Commons on the 26th day of October, 1667,” are printed in Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix, p. 15, and in Lister’s Life of Clarendon, vol. iii, p. 530. ↩
Baptist May, born in 1629, and said to be the son of Sir Humphrey May, but this is doubtful. Keeper of the Privy Purse to Charles II, and Registrar in the Court of Chancery. He died May 2nd, 1698. ↩
Thomas Chicheley (1618–1694), Master-General of Ordnance, father of Captain Sir John Chicheley. He was knighted in 1670. ↩
Edward Backwell, goldsmith and alderman of the City of London. He was a man of considerable wealth during the Commonwealth. After the Restoration he negotiated Charles II’s principal money transactions. He was M.P. for Wendover in the parliament of 1679, and in the Oxford parliament of 1680. According to the writer of the life in the Dict. of Nat. Biog. his heirs did not ultimately suffer any pecuniary loss by the closure of the Exchequer. Mr. Hilton Price stated that Backwell removed to Holland in 1676, and died therein 1679; but this is disproved by the pedigree in Lipscomb’s Hist. of Bucks, where the date of his death is given as 1683, as well as by the fact that he sat for Wendover in 1679 and 1680, as stated above. ↩
Thomas Blagrave, Gentleman of the Chapel, Clerk of the Cheque, and one of Charles II’s private band. A few of his songs are printed in Select Ayres and Dialogues, folio, 1669. His portrait was in the Music School at Oxford. He died November 21st, 1688, and was buried in the north cloister of Westminster Abbey. ↩
“Warrant to pay to Lewis Grabu, master of the select band of violins, in place of John Bannister, £600 for himself and the band, with arrears to commence from Ladyday, 1667, with note that the whole establishment is to be made over again.”
Resumption, in a law sense, signifies the taking again into the king’s hands such lands or tenements as before, upon false suggestions, or other error, he had delivered to the heir, or granted by letters patent to any man. The Bill for effecting these objects was brought into the House of Commons, but never passed. —B. ↩
Part III of Sir Edward Coke’s Institutes of the Laws of England deals with “High treason and other pleas of the Crown and criminal causes.” ↩
The term Cabinet Council, as stated by Clarendon, originated thus, in 1640: “The bulk and burden of the state affairs lay principally upon the shoulders of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Strafford, and the Lord Cottington; some others being joined to them, as the Earl of Northumberland for ornament, the Bishop of London for his place, the two Secretaries, Sir H. Vane and Sir Francis Windebank, for service and communication of intelligence: only the Marquis of Hamilton, indeed, by his skill and interest, bore as great a part as he had a mind to do, and had the skill to meddle no further than he had a mind. These persons made up the committee of state, which was reproachfully after called the junto, and enviously then in the Court the Cabinet Council” (History of the Rebellion, vol. i, p. 211, edit. 1849). Dr. Murray (New English Dictionary) says that the expression “he is of the cabinet” is used of Vane by Roe, 1630. See ante, November 9th, 1664, and August 26th, 1666, where Pepys refers to the “Cabinet.” ↩
John Vaughan, Lord Vaughan, eldest surviving son to Richard, Earl of Carberry, whom he succeeded. He was well versed in literature, and succeeded Pepys as President of the Royal Society, an office which he held from 1686 to 1689, and had been Governor of Jamaica. He was amongst Dryden’s earliest patrons. Died January 16th, 1712–13. Lord Clarendon in his Life draws an unflattering picture of Lord Vaughan. He writes:
“A person of as ill a face as fame, his looks and his manner both extreme bad, asked for the paper that had been presented from the Committee, and with his own hand entered these words, ‘That being a Privy Counsellor he [Clarendon] had betrayed the king’s secrets to the enemy.’ ”
In 1652 General Monk was married, at the Church of St. George, Southwark, to Anne, daughter of his regimental farrier, John Clarges, and in the following year had by her a son, Christopher, the “Earl of Torrington” here mentioned. The child was suckled by Honour Mills, a vendor of apples and oysters, and succeeded his father as Duke of Albemarle in 1670; but dying in 1688, s. p., all the honours and titles of the family became extinct. It came out, on a trial of trespass between William Sherwen, plaintiff, and Sir Walter Clarges, Bart., and others, defendants, at the bar of the King’s Bench, November 15th, 1702, that Anne Clarges had married for her first husband Thomas Ratford, in 1632, and was separated from him in 1649; but no certificate of his death had ever appeared. This fact would invalidate the legitimacy of the Earl of Torrington, and the suspicion is strengthened by the low origin and vulgar habits of the duchess, and the threats which she resorted to, to prevent the story being made public. One Pride, who, as the son of a daughter of an elder brother of George, Duke of Albemarle, claimed to be heir to Duke George, brought an ejectment against the Earl of Bath (who claimed under a deed from Duke Christopher) in the King’s Bench, in Hilary Term, 6 William III, attempting to bastardize Duke Christopher, on the ground mentioned in the note. After a long trial, the jury, not being satisfied with the evidence, found for the Earl of Bath. This case, which is a different one from that given above, is reported in 1 Salkeld, 120, 3 Leving, 410, and Holt, 286. Leving was one of the counsel for the Earl of Bath. —B. ↩
In 1667 “King Charles gave the ground and buildings of James’s College at Chelsea” to the Royal Society, who sold them again to Sir Stephen Fox, for the Crown, in 1682, for £1,300. ↩
Laurence Hyde, second son of Lord Chancellor Clarendon (1614–1711). He held many important offices, and was First Lord of the Treasury, 1679–84; created Earl of Rochester in 1681, and K.G. 1685. ↩
On October 26th, during the proceedings relative to the impeachment of Lord Clarendon, Mr. Lawrence Hyde said:
“I am sensible, the house may think me partial, but I shall endeavour to show myself not so much a son of the Earl of Clarendon as a member of this house, and I assure you that if he shall be found guilty, no man shall appear more against him than I; if not, I hope every one will be for him as much as I, let every man upon his conscience think what of this charge is true, for I believe that if one article be proved, he will own himself guilty of all.”
Parliamentary History of England, vol. iv, col. 374
Waller’s speech is not reported in the Debates, although he was a frequent speaker. Burnet writes:
“Waller was the delight of the house, and even at eighty he said the liveliest things of any among them. He was only concerned to say that which should make him be applauded.”
No Dr. Floyd, or Lloyd, was admitted into the Royal Society at this time. At the meeting on November 21st Mons. Leyonberg, resident from the King of Sweden, and Mr. Soame were elected and admitted, and Count Ubaldini, Sir Charles Berkeley, and Mr. Oudart were elected. ↩
John Cosin, Master of Peter House and Dean of Peterborough in the time of Charles I; Bishop of Durham, 1660–72. Died January 13th, 1671–72, aged seventy-eight. ↩
Edward Reynolds, Bishop of Norwich, 1661–76. He died July 28th, 1676, aged seventy-six. ↩
The protest made in the House of Lords (November 20th, 1667) to the negativing of the question for the committal of Lord Clarendon was signed by the Dukes of Buckingham and Albemarle and twenty-five other peers. Four reasons are given for the protest (Protests of the Lords, ed. J. E. Thorold Rogers, 1875, vol. i, p. 34). ↩
This was Arthur Coga, who had studied at Cambridge, and was said to be a bachelor of divinity. He was indigent, and “looked upon as a very freakish and extravagant man.” Dr. King, in a letter to the Hon. Robert Boyle, remarks “that Mr. Coga was about thirty-two years of age; that he spoke Latin well, when he was in company, which he liked, but that his brain was sometimes a little too warm.” The experiment was performed on November 23rd, 1667, by Dr. King, at Arundel House, in the presence of many spectators of quality, and four or five physicians. Coga wrote a description of his own case in Latin, and when asked why he had not the blood of some other creature, instead of that of a sheep, transfused into him, answered, “Sanguis ovis symbolicam quandam facultatem habet cum sanguine Christi, quia Christus est agnus Dei” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, pp. 214–16). Coga was the first person in England to be experimented upon; previous experiments were made by the transfusion of the blood of one dog into another. See November 14th, 1666. ↩
This anecdote of Dr. Caius is given in Health’s Improvement, or Rules [for] Preparing All Sorts of Food, by Thomas Mufett; Corrected and Enlarged by Christopher Bennet, 1655, p. 123. ↩
Richard Cooling, Clerk of the Privy Council, and secretary to the Earl of Manchester when appointed Lord Chamberlain in 1660. He acted as secretary to the Earl of Arlington during his tenure of the office of Lord Chamberlain (1674–80). He died June 19th, 1697. ↩
Selden’s executors were Matthew Hale, John Vaughan, and Rowland Jewkes, here alluded to, who was buried in the Temple Church in 1665. His monument is now in the triforium. Selden’s monument, consisting of a slab of black marble, was removed in the summer of 1895 from the left of the altar to the southwest corner of the church, near where the “saints’ bell” was once rung, as he was buried in this spot. The monument has been enclosed in a new alabaster frame.
“His grave was about ten foot deepe or better, walled up a good way with brick, with which also the bottome was paved, but the sides at the bottome for about two foot high were of black polished marble, wherein his coffin (covered with black bayes) lyeth, and upon that wall of marble was presently let downe a huge black marble stone of great thickness, with this inscription: ‘Hic jacet corpus Johannis Seldeni, qui obijt 30 die Novembris, 1654.’ ”
Warrs with Forregen (Sic) Princes Dangerous to Our Commonwealth, or Reasons for Forreign Wars Answered. London, 1657. 8vo. ↩
The House resolved that the judgment given, 5th Car. I, against Sir John Elliot, Denzill Hollis, and Benjamin Valentine, in the King’s Bench, was illegal, and against the freedom and privileges of Parliament. —B. ↩
David Lloyd’s Memoires of the Lives, Actions, Sufferings, and Deaths of those noble, reverend, and excellent personages who suffered by death, sequestration, decimation, or otherwise for the Protestant religion and the great principle thereof, allegiance to their sovereign in our late intestine wars. … 1668. ↩
See November 15th, 1667. Sir John Chicheley was in command of the Fairfax in 1666, and of the Rupert in 1668. He subsequently was advanced to be rear-admiral, and he held several posts of importance. He died May, 1691. ↩
The Mistaken Beauty; or, the Liar, a comedy, taken from the Menteur of Corneille; printed, in 1661, by its second title only, and without any author’s name. Afterwards pubHshed as The Mistaken Beauty in 16S5. ↩
A male cat. “Gib” is a contraction of the Christian name Gilbert (Old French), “Tibert.”
“I am melancholy as a gib-cat.”
Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV, act i, sc. 3
Gib alone is also used, and a verb made from it—“to gib,” or act like a cat. ↩
Of the Royal Society. Creed was chosen a member of council this year. ↩
Carey House was probably the Canary House, a much frequented house situated “between the Feathers tavern and Long’s Coffee house on the east side of Exeter ’Change.” There is a token of the Canary House dated 1665. See Boyne’s Tokens, ed. Williamson, vol. i, p. 760. ↩
Bishop Wilkins’s “Essay Towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language” was published in 1668. ↩
Daniel Colwall, Treasurer of the Royal Society 1665–1679. ↩
Anne, daughter of Edward, first Lord Howard of Escrick, wife to Charles Howard, first Earl of Carlisle. —B. ↩
This paper, The Humble Peticõn and Addresse of Edward Earl of Clarendon, will be found in Harl. MS. No. 7170 (B. M.). It is printed in the Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix, p. 30. It was also printed under the title, News from Dunkirk House, or Clarendon’s Farewell to England in His Seditious Address to the House of Peers, December 3rd, 1667 (Somers’s Tracts, vol. viii, p. 7). It was burnt by the hangman, December 12th, 1667. ↩
Sir William Bolton.
“Petition of Sir Wm. Bolton, alderman and late Lord Mayor of London, to the King, to call to account the Lord Mayor, etc., for their unjust proceedings in deposing him from his place as alderman, and questioning him on his accounts of the moneys raised for relief of sufferers from the fire, although that cause is depending before the Commissioners for charitable uses; this malice arises from his Majesty’s recommendation of him as Surveyor General for rebuilding the city.”
King Street. Before the construction of this street the only access to the Guildhall was either by Ironmonger Lane or Lawrence Lane. ↩
This principle of melioration was included in the clauses of the Act for rebuilding London by the influence of Sir Matthew Hale. The following is an extract from the Act:
“And forasmuch as the Houses now remaining and to be rebuilt will receive more or less advantage in the value of their rents by the liberty of air and free recourse for Trade and other conveniences by such regulation and inlargements, it is alsoe enacted by the authoritie aforesaid that in case of refusal or incapacity as aforesaid of the owners or others interessed of or in the said Houses to agree and compound with the said Lord Maior Aldermen and Com̃ons for the same. Thereupon a jury shall and may be impanneled in manner and form aforesaid to judge and assesse upon the owners and others interessed of and in such houses such competent summe and summes of money with respect to their severall interests in consideration of such improvement and melioration as in reason and good conscience they shall think fit.”
An Act for rebuilding the Citty of London, 18 and 19 Car. II, c. 8, clause 24; Statutes of the Realm, 1819, vol. v, p. 608
As the word “melioration” has an established position in law books, it seems a pity that the word “betterment” at present in use should be allowed to supersede it. ↩
“Sec. Morice to the Duke of York, Lord Admiral and Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. The King by request of the House of Commons commands you to send orders to all seaports for diligent care to be taken that the Earl of Clarendon, who has lately withdrawn, do not escape the kingdom. Dec. 3, 1667.”
Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, p. 59
A copy of the original order for the apprehension of the Earl of Clarendon, signed by the Duke of York, and directed to Sir John Bramston, is given in The Autobiography of Sir John Bramston, p. 257 (Camden Society). ↩
Thomas Jermyn, who succeeded his uncle Henry, Earl of St. Albans, as second Lord Jermyn of St. Edmundsbury in 1683. Henry Jermyn succeeded his brother Thomas as third Lord Jermyn of St. Edmundsbury in 1703. ↩
James Compton, third Earl of Northampton, Lord Lieutenant of Warwickshire, and Constable of the Tower. Died December 15th, 1681. ↩
Sir Lewis Dyve was born November 3rd, 1599, and knighted in April, 1620. He was M.P. for Bridport 1625, 1626, and for Weymouth in 1627–28. He took an active part in support of the king during the Civil Wars, and died April 17th, 1669. ↩
See note 2944. It is affirmed in the Dictionary of National Biography that Lord Cottington’s estates passed to his nephew Francis, son of his brother Maurice, but it is distinctly stated on the monument in Westminster Abbey that Charles Cottington, who brought Lord Cottington’s remains from Spain to England in 1679, was “his nephew and heire.” ↩
Major Wildman, who had been an agitator in Cromwell’s army, and had opposed his Protectorship. After he regained his liberty, he returned to his old habits, and was frequently engaged in fomenting sedition. —B. ↩
Frances, daughter of Sir Thomas Aylesbury, Bart., Master of Requests to Charles I, second wife of Lord Chancellor Clarendon. See note 1246. ↩
William, third Lord Brereton of Leaghlin, in Ireland, M.P. for Cheshire. He disposed of his estates in that county, on account of the exigencies of the times, and his father’s losses, incurred in the cause of Charles I. He was esteemed an accomplished and amiable nobleman, and was one of the founders of the Royal Society. Aubrey wrote of Lord Brereton:
“This vertuous and learned lord (who was my most honoured and obliging friend) was educated at Breda by Jo. Pell, D.D., then Math. Professor there of the Prince of Orange’s illustrious schoole. Sir George Goring, E. of Norwich (who was my Lord’s grandfather), did send him over, where he (then Mr. J. Pell) tooke great care of him, and made him a very good Algebrist. He hath wrote a poem called Origines Moriens, a MS. Obiit March 17, 1679, and is buried in St. Martin’s Church in the fields. He was an excellent musitian, and also a good composer.”
“. Between twelve and one of the clock, the paper called The Humble Petition and Address of Edward, Earl of Clarendon, directed to the Lords Spiritual and Temporal in Parliament assembled, was, according to a late order of Parliament, burnt by the hands of the common hangman, before the gate of Gresham College, now the place of the Exchange, in the presence of the Sheriffs.”
Alphonso VI was deposed in 1667, and his brother Pedro made regent. The latter succeeded as Pedro II in 1683. ↩
The work of Gerard de Malynes, entitled Consuetude vel Lex Mercatoria; or, the Ancient Law-Merchant. London, 1622; which was frequently reprinted. ↩
Guildhall was not destroyed by the fire, as Pepys seems to intimate, but it was greatly injured, and £34,776 was spent on its restoration. In 1789 George Dance the younger, City architect, did more damage than the fire. The original roof remained until he was let loose upon the unlucky building. ↩
Samuel Sandys, of Ombersley, in Worcestershire, which county he then represented in Parliament. He was ancestor of the Lords Sandys, and died in 1685. —B. ↩
The journals of the day do not inform us that William Carr was adjudged to lose his ears. He was fined £1,000, and ordered to stand in the pillory three times; and the libel was burnt by the common hangman. —B. ↩
This use of the word, which has already occurred in the same sense (see October 14th, 1665), is earlier than its application by Burnet (Hist. of Own Time) in 1672, when he states, in reference to the then newly-formed government, that “Cabal” proved a technical word, every letter in it being the first letter of these five—Clifford, Ashly, Buckingham, Arlington, and Lauderdale. It is obvious that the names given by Pepys do not form the word. In the Dream of the Cabal, anno 1672, the Cabal is made to consist of seven members, thus—
“Methought there met the grand Cabal of Seven, (Odd numbers, some men say, do best please Heaven).”
Burnet’s words have often been mistaken. He noticed a coincidence, which many have taken to be the origin of the term.—B.
“The five ministers of the king whose names were appended to the Treaty of Alliance with France for war against Holland, which was ultimately published Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauderdale—have come down to posterity with the nickname of the Cabal Ministry, from the accident that the initials of their names make the word Cabal. This word cabal had not at that time the unfavourable meaning which now always attaches to it. It was used to designate any political combination, and is so used in a passage … from a letter of Andrew Marvel, in which he speaks of Buckingham’s ‘Cabal,’ and of Arlington’s rival ‘cabal’ in the same ministry. It was indeed in use as a name for the small Committee of the Privy Council otherwise called the Committee for Foreign Affairs, which had the chief management of the course of government, and here it had much the meaning of the word cabinet now in vogue.”
Christie’s Life of First Earl of Shaftesbury, vol. ii, pp. 53, 54
John Dolben, Bishop of Rochester, 1666 to 16S3, when he was translated to York. ↩
A sermon entitled “Papists no Catholics, and Popery no Christianity,” pubhshed in 1667, by William Lloyd, who became Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, then of St. Asaph, and lastly of Worcester, and died in 1717, aged ninety-one. —B. ↩
The Rose Tavern in Russell Street, Covent Garden. Part of it was pulled down in 1776, when a new front was added to Drury Lane Theatre. ↩
Mary, only daughter of Thomas Pepys, of London, elder brother of Samuel’s father. ↩
This character of Archbishop Sheldon does not tally with the scandal that Pepys previously reported of him. Burnet has some passages of importance on this in his Own Time, Book II. He affirms that Charles’s final decision to throw over Clarendon was caused by the Chancellor’s favouring Mrs. Stewart’s marriage with the Duke of Richmond. The king had a conference with Sheldon on the removal of Clarendon, but could not convert the archbishop to his view. Lauderdale told Burnet that he had an account of the interview from the king. “The king and Sheldon had gone into such expostulations upon it that from that day forward Sheldon could never recover the king’s confidence.” ↩
From the Spanish picaron a rogue or villain. The word obtained the secondary meaning of pirate or privateer. ↩
John Trevor, knighted by Charles II, who made him Secretary of State, 1668, which office he held till his death in 1672. ↩
Bishop Dolben appears to have been a man of remarkably fine character, against whose good fame these malignant attacks fall harmless. There is an excellent life of him in the Dictionary of National Biography, by the late Canon Venables (see note 2936). It is said that every male of the Dolben family, from the bishop to the last of the family in the nineteenth century, was educated at Westminster School. ↩
William Montagu, second son of Edward, first Baron Montagu of Boughton, appointed Attorney-General to the Queen in 1662; Lord Chief Baron, 1676–1686. His second wife, the lady referred to by Pepys, was Mary, daughter of Sir John Aubrey, Bart. ↩
Sir G. Carteret’s eldest son, who married Lady Jemimah Montagu, July 31st, 1665. ↩
A tragedy by James Shirley, first printed in 1640. ↩
The Commissioners of Accounts were William, Lord Brereton, William Peirpoint, Sir George Savile, Giles Dunster, Sir James Langham, Henry Osborne, Alderman Sir William Turner, George Tompson, and John Gregory (Statutes of the Realm, vol. v, p. 624). ↩
The practice of gallants attending the theatre without payment is illustrated by Mr. Lowe in his “Betterton,” from Shadwell’s True Widow:
1st Doorkeeper
Pray, sir, pay me: my masters will make me pay it.
3rd Man
Impudent rascal, do you ask me for money? Take that, sirrah.
2nd Doorkeeper
Will you pay me, sir?
4th Man
No; I don’t intend to stay.
2nd Doorkeeper
So you say every day, and see two or three acts for nothing.
Charles, eldest son of Dudley, fourth Lord North, noticed March 3rd, 1659–60. He was granted a peerage during his father’s lifetime as Baron Grey of Rolleston, and eventually succeeded his father as fifth Baron North. His mother was Anne, daughter of Sir Charles Montagu, of Cranbrook Hall, Essex, whence his connection with Lord Sandwich. ↩
Catharine, daughter to William Grey, Lord Grey of Warke, and widow of Sir Edward Moseley. She married, thirdly, Colonel Francis Russell (see November 15th, 1666), second son of Francis, fourth Earl of Bedford. —B. ↩
“An Act for taking the Accounts of the several sums of money therein men͠coned, 19 and 20 Car. II, c. 1. The commissioners were empowered to call before them all Treasurers, Receivers, Paymasters, Principal Officers and Commissioners of the Navy and Ordnance respectively, Pursers, Mustermasters and Clerks of the Cheque, Accountants, and all Officers and Keepers of his Majesties Stores and Provisions for Warr as well for Land as Sea, and all other persons whatsoever imployed in the management of the said Warr or requisite for the discovery of any frauds relating thereunto,” etc., etc.
The Life of the Renowned Sir Philip Sidney … Written by Sir Fulke Grevil, Knight, Lord Brook, a Servant to Queen Elizabeth, and His Companion and Friend, was published in 1652, “Printed for Henry Seile, over against St. Dunstans Church in Fleet Street.” This little book was reprinted by Sir Egerton Bridges at the Lee Priory Press in 1816. ↩
Sir Fulke Greville discourses much on foreign affairs, particularly in chapters ii, v, xv, and xvii, where he points out the dangers to this country and Europe generally from the combinations of great powers. He commends Queen Elizabeth for maintaining a fleet of her own ships and of those of “her fast friends the Netherlands” on the coast of Spain (p. 227). ↩
Sir George Savile of Rufford, co. Notts, Bart., created Baron Savile of Eland and Viscount Halifax, 1668; Earl of Halifax, 1679; and Marquis of Halifax, 1682. Died April 5th, 1695. ↩
Sir Lewis Dyve (1599–1669) was the son of John Dyve, of Bromham, in Bedfordshire, by Beatrix, daughter of Charles Walcot, Esq., who afterwards married John Digby, first Earl of Bristol. See note 3772. ↩
This refers to the battle of the Dunes, June 24th, 1658, when Turenne defeated the Prince of Condé and Don Juan of Austria, who tried to relieve Dunkirk, which the English blockaded by sea, and the French attacked by land. It was prior to this battle that, despising the Spanish tactics, Condé said to the young Duke of Gloucester, “N’avez vous jamais vu perdre une bataille? Eh bien, vous l’allez voir.” Dunkirk surrendered on the 23rd, and afterwards was given up to the English, with whom it remained till Charles sold it. —B. ↩
“If they should incorporate with France, the Netherlands manufactures, industry, trade and shipping would add much to that monarchie both in peace and war. The natural riches of the French having been hitherto either kept barrain at home or barrainly transported abroad for lack of the true use of trade … which defect being now abundantly to be supplied, by this conjunction with the Netherlands, would in a little time, not onely puff up that active commonwealth with unquiet pride, but awake the stirring French to feel this addition to their own strengths, and so make them become dangerous neighbours by incursion in invasion to the Baltic sea.”
George Hall, son of the celebrated Bishop Joseph Hall of Norwich, Archdeacon of Canterbury, 1660, and consecrated Bishop of Chester, May 11th, 1662. Died August 23rd, 1668. ↩
One of the famous works by the author of The Whole Duty of Man, which had just been published. ↩
I.e., a son of the Earl of Berkshire. See note 2643. ↩
There seem to have been, at this time, two distinct “Nurseries for Actors,” one in Golden Lane, near the Barbican. This establishment was ridiculed by Dryden in his McFlecknoe; and, in The Rehearsal, Bayes is made to declare that he will write only for the “Nursery,” and “mump the proud players” of the regular theatres. Langbaine, also (p. 64), tells us that he had seen Chapman’s Revenge for Honour acted many years ago at the “Nursery” in Barbican. We learn from the Shakespeare Society’s Papers, vol. iii, that a patent was granted by Charles II, March 3rd, 1664, to William Legge, Groom of the Bedchamber, giving him the privilege of instituting a “Nursery” for young actors (see note, vol. iv, p. 206). The other “Nursery” was in Hatton Garden, built by Captain Bedford. The “Nursery” in Barbican appears to have been established by the King’s Players under Killigrew, and the one in Hatton Garden for the Duke’s Players under Davenant. ↩
A comedy by James Shirley, first published in 1631. Reproduced in 1667 as Love Tricks, or the School of Compliments. ↩
“Whereas we are informed that diverse persons doe rudely presse and with evill language and blowes force their way into the two theatres without paying the prices established,” therefore the king declares such proceedings unlawful, “notwithstanding their pretended priviledge by custom of forcing their entrance at the fourth or fifth act without payment.”
Records of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office, December 7th, 1663, quoted in Lowe’s Betterton, p. 24
Andrew Marvell, who died in 1678, M.P. for Hull, is said, but erroneously, to have been the last member that received wages from his constituents; others, his contemporaries, maintained the right, and suffered their arrears to accumulate, as a cheap resource at the next election. Marvell more than once, in his correspondence, speaks of members threatening to sue their boroughs for pay (Coleridge’s Northern Worthies, p. 61). A case is noticed by Lord Campbell, in his Life of Lord Nottingham, where the M.P. for Harwich, in 1681, petitioned the Lord Chancellor, as that borough had failed “to pay him his wages.” A writ was issued “De expensis Burgensium levandis.” Lord Campbell adds, “For this point of the People’s Charter [payment of members of Parliament] no new law is required” (Lives of the Lord Chancellors, vol. iii, p. 420). —B. ↩
George Fournier, a Jesuit, born at Caen in 1569, was the author of several nautical works. His chief one, L’Hydrographie, was published at Paris in folio in 1663. A second edition appeared in 1667. ↩
Alvarez Semedo’s History of China, translated by a Person of Quality. Lond., 1655, fol. —B. ↩
Beaumont and Fletcher’s play, first acted in 1632, and published in 1652. ↩
Mrs. Weaver was one of the actresses of the King’s Company. ↩
Sedley never wrote any play with this title, or, perhaps, the name was altered. The piece here referred to seems to be The Mulberry Garden (see May 18th following), which, on representation, does not seem to have answered Pepys’s expectations. It met, however, with success, from the notoriety or fashion of the profligate author. —B. ↩
L’Escole des Filles, by Helot, was burnt at the foot of the gallows in 1672, and the author himself was burnt in effigy. ↩
Puttana errante, written by Pietro Aretino, but falsely attributed to Maffeo Veniero, was published at Venice in 1531, and reprinted in Poesie da fuoco di diversi autori, 1651. It was translated into French as La P … errante, ou Dialogue de Madelaine et de Julie, traduction du dialogue Italien de Pierre Aretin. ↩
Humphrey Henchman, Prebendary of Salisbury, 1623; Bishop of Salisbury, 1660–63; Bishop of London, 1663–75. ↩
The claims of owners, after the fire of London, as settled by the Commissioners, are in the British Museum. —B. ↩
Henrietta Maria Cornwallis, whose brother Charles, third Lord Cornwallis (called le beau Cornwallis), afterwards (1688) became the second husband of the Duchess of Monmouth. —B. ↩
Moll Davis lived in Suffolk Street from 1667 to 1676; in the latter year she removed to St. James’s Square to a house now absorbed in the building of the Army and Navy Club. ↩
Richard Gibson, so frequently noticed by Pepys, was a clerk in the Navy Office. His collection of papers relating to the navy of England A.D. 1650–1702, compiled, as he states, from the Admiralty books in the Navy Office, are in the British Museum. —B. ↩
Francis Talbot, eleventh Earl of Shrewsbury, who died of his wounds March 16th following. ↩
Of Laycock Abbey, Wilts, a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber and M.P. for Knaresborough. He was descended from John Talbot, second Earl of Shrewsbury, who fell at Northampton Fight in 1640. Sir John is said to have been the first person who received Charles II in his arms on that monarch’s landing at Dover, after the Restoration, on which occasion he was knighted. Le Neve, writing in 1696, calls him “a very fine, strong old gentleman.” He lived to a great age, serving till after 1700. His two sons died young; and his two daughters and co-heirs—
Anne, married Sir John Ivory, Bart.
Barbara, married Henry Yelverton, Lord Grey de Ruthyn, and Viscount Longueville.
Anna Maria, daughter of Robert Brudenel, second Earl of Cardigan. Walpole says she held the Duke of Buckingham’s horse, in the habit of a page, while he was fighting the duel with her husband. She married, secondly, George Rodney Bridges, son of Sir Thomas Bridges of Keynsham, Somerset, Groom of the Bedchamber to Charles II, and died April 20th, 1702. A portrait of the Countess of Shrewsbury, as Minerva, by Lely, was bought by Sir Robert Peel at the Stowe Sale, for £68 5s. There is also another portrait at Goodwood; and still another in the National Portrait Gallery. Pope’s well-known lines (Moral Essays, epist. 3):
“Gallant and gay, in Cliveden’s proud alcove, The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love,”
are incorrect, because workmen were engaged in building Cheveden in 1680, when the countess married her second husband. ↩
See note 156. The custom was observed on May 30th, 1853, at the festivities consequent on the marriage of Princess Anna of Prussia with Prince Frederick of Hesse. The Oberhofmeister distributed to the gentlemen present small pieces of riband on which the initials of the bride were embroidered. This ceremony is a modified form of the old custom of cutting up the bride’s garter, and letting the gentlemen of the party scramble for the bits. Formerly it was the custom for a Prussian princess, immediately on leaving the company, to take her garter from her knee, and send it to the king, who tied one half of it round his own sword-knot, and sent the remainder, as the most attractive present he could offer, to a neighbouring and chivalrous monarch. See Times, June 2nd, 1853. In 1609, Lady Haughty, in Ben Jonson’s The Silent Woman, says, “We see no ensigns of a wedding here; no character of a bride ale; where be our scarves and our gloves? I pray you give them us. Let us know your bride’s colours and yours at least.” And again she indignantly asks, “No gloves? no garters? no scarves? no epithalamium? no masque?” (act iii, sc. 2). ↩
Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre, sister of Francis I of France. The “pretty story” was doubtless from her Heptaméron, a work imitating in title and matter the Decameron of Boccaccio. She is said to be the heroine of some of the adventures. It is fair to add that she wrote also the Miroir d’une Ame Pecheresse, translated into English by Queen Elizabeth, the title of whose book was A Godly Medytacyon of the Christian Soules, published by John Bale in 1548. —B. ↩
Samuel Newman, born at Banbury, and educated at Oxford. He emigrated to New England in 1637, and died there in 1663. His Concordance of the Bible was first published in London in 1643. —B. ↩
One regiment of which was commanded by Lord Gerard. —B. ↩
The absurd practice of holding up drowning men by the heels, when taken out of the water, occasioned the loss of many lives. The object was to let the water run out! —B. ↩
He kept the Three Stags tavern at Holborn Conduit. ↩
This was not the only time that Pepys took trouble to save the estate of a friend who had committed suicide. In the Caveat Book in the Record Office, p. 42 of the volume for 1677, is the following entry: “That no grant pass of the Estate of Francis Gurney of Maldon in Essex, who drowned himself in his own well on Tuesday night ye 12th of this instant August, at the desire of Samuel Pepys, Esquire, August 20, 1677.” ↩
Sir Francis Chaplin, clothworker, Sheriff 1668, and Lord Mayor in 1677. ↩
Dr. William Fuller, translated from Limerick, 1667. ↩
Buckden, parish of St. Neots district, Huntingdon, and in the diocese of Ely. The manor was given to the Bishops of Lincoln in the reign of Henry II. The palace was the residence of the bishops until 1838, when it was sold, and a new palace was provided for them. ↩
Godefroi d’Estrades, French ambassador in England in 1661. See note 1199. ↩
Dr. Edward Stillingfleet was rector of St. Andrew’s from 1664 to 1689, when he was promoted to the bishopric of Worcester. ↩
It is not clear who Betty Turner really was, but probably she was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Turner of the Navy Office, and not of Serjeant John Turner, as suggested in a note on p. 71 of this volume. She appears to have been a friend of Theophila Turner, and is mentioned with her on January 4th and 6th, 1668–69. ↩
George Legge, the colonel’s eldest son, born 1647; captain, R.N., 1667; and in 1682 created Lord Dartmouth. ↩
A term for making a noise or disturbance.
“Sing hi-ho, Sir Arthur, no more in the house you shall prate, For all you kept such a quarter, you are out of the Council of State.”
The chief office of the Commissioners of Accounts was at Brooke House, Holborn, and they were sometimes styled the “Brooke House Committee.” Pepys went there on July 3rd, 1668. Durham Yard, Strand, may have been the residence of one of the commissioners. ↩
“Hacket was just the man for the time. … His clergy said the king must have the ‘old apostolic spirit of discerning,’ since he sent them a bishop so exactly to their minds. … Whilst Lichfield had thus the best of bishops, it had the worst of deans. In 1663 Thomas Wood (bishop 1671–92), son of a Court official, had paid £100 to Charles II, and got the deanery. … The whole chapter hated Wood, and sent a letter to the archbishop complaining that their stalls under such a dean were intolerable.”
Beresford’s Lichfield (Diocesan Histories, S.P.C.K., pp. 246, 250
William Godolphin, descended from a younger branch of that family, which was afterwards ennobled in the person of Sidney, Earl Godolphin, Lord Treasurer. William Godolphin was of Christ Church, Oxford, and graduated M.A., January 14th, 1660–61. He was afterwards secretary to Sir H. Bennet (Lord Arlington), and M.P. for Camelford. He was a great favourite at Court, and was knighted on August 28th, 1668. In the spring of 1669 he returned to Spain as Envoy Extraordinary, and in 1671 he became Ambassador. On July 11th, 1696, he died at Madrid, having been for some years a Roman Catholic. ↩
The royal pardon was thus announced in the Gazette of February 24th, 1668: “This day his Majesty was pleased to declare at the Board, that whereas, in contemplation of the eminent services heretofore done to his Majesty by most of the persons who were engaged in the late duel, or rencontre, wherein William Jenkins was killed, he doth graciously pardon the said offence: nevertheless, He is resolved from henceforth that on no pretence whatsoever any pardon shall be hereafter granted to any person whatsoever for killing of any man, in any duel or rencontre, but that the course of law shall wholly take place in all such cases.” The warrant for a pardon to George, Duke of Buckingham, is dated January 27th, 1668; and on the following day was issued, “Warrant for a grant to Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury, of pardon for killing William Jenkins, and for all duels, assaults, or batteries on George, Duke of Buckingham, Sir John Talbot, Sir Robert Holmes, or any other, whether indicted or not for the same, with restitution of lands, goods, etc.” (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, pp. 192, 193). ↩
Sir George Etherege, the celebrated wit and man of fashion. He was the author of three comedies, The Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub (1664), She Would if She Could (1667), and The Man of Mode, or Sir Fopling Flutter (1676). He is said to have bought his knighthood in order to persuade a rich widow to marry him. He was sent to the Hague by Charles II, and in 1685 by James II to Ratisbon. He died at Paris in 1691. ↩
Shadwell confirms this complaint of Etherege’s in the preface to his own Humourists. He writes: “The last (viz. imperfect action) had like to have destroyed She Would if She Could, which I think (and I have the authority of some of the best judges in England for’t) is the best comedy that has been written since the Restoration of the Stage.” Harris played Sir Joslin Jolly. Downes says that it was inferior to Love in a Tub, but took well. ↩
Mrs. Lowther, here mentioned by her maiden name. ↩
Born at Kinsale in 1636, educated at Queen’s College, Oxford, and afterwards entered at Lincoln’s Inn. He was sworn one of the clerks of the Privy Council in 1664, and knighted in 1665. He was employed on several diplomatic missions, and in 1672 he was sent as Envoy Extraordinary to Portugal. William III appointed him Principal Secretary of State for Ireland. He was President of the Royal Society, 1690–95. Died 1702, at King’s-Weston, in Gloucestershire. His son Edward became Secretary of State, and his great-grandson succeeded to the ancient barony of De Clifford. ↩
The king’s speech is printed in Journals of the House of Lords (vol. xii, p. 181). It commences thus: “My Lords and Gentlemen, I am glad to see you here again, to tell you what I have done in this interval, which I am confident you will be pleased with, since it is so much for the honour and security of this nation.” ↩
Francis Pemberton, afterwards knighted, and made Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench in 1679. His career was a most singular one, he having been twice removed from the Bench, and twice imprisoned by the House of Commons. He twice returned to the bar, and after his second return he practised with great success as a serjeant for the next fourteen years till his death, June 10th, 1697. Evelyn says, “He was held to be the most learned of the judges and an honest man” (Diary, October 4th, 1683). ↩
The play in which Smith acted Zanga was Lord Orrery’s Mustapha. The cast, as given by Downes (Roscius Anglicanus, p. 26), was as follows:
Suleiman the Magnificent
Betterton
Mustapha
Harris
Zanger
Smith
Rustan
Sandford
Pyrrhus
Richards
⸻
Young
Haly
Cademan
Roxalana
Mrs. Davenport
Queen of Hungaria
Mrs. Davies
Downes adds, with reference to the part of Roxalana, that it was afterwards played by Mrs. Betterton, and then “by one Mrs. Wiseman.” —B. ↩
Thomas Edwards married Jane Birch in 1669, and died in 1681. Pepys interested himself to get their son, Samuel Edwards, into the Bluecoat School in 1682. See note 2263. ↩
There is a copy of Pepys’s letter to the Commissioners of Accounts in defence of himself in respect to the buying of East India prize goods in 1665, among the Rawlinson MSS. (Bodleian), A. 174 (301). ↩
The Lord Chamberlain’s Records contain a copy of a warrant dated July 12th, 1661, “to deliver to Mr. Killegrew thirty yards of velvet, three dozen of fringe, and sixteene yards of Damaske for the year 1661.” The heading of this entry is “Livery for ye jester” (Lowe’s Betterton, p. 70). ↩
“Feb. 1, 1668. Capt. J. Perriman to Sam. Pepys. Mark Croney, who bought the Leister wreck at Blackwall, says that Capt. Dorington, one of the owners, has forbidden his servants to work any more upon her, or to meddle with anything there, although Croney has paid his money for the wreck.”
Of which Sir Philip was Governor. The account of the money expended by Sir P. Honiwood on the fortifications at Portsmouth, between August, 1665, and April, 1667, is in the Sloane MS., 873. —B. ↩
Sir William Coventry’s love of money is said by Sir John Denham to have influenced him in promoting naval officers, who paid him for their commissions.
“Then Painter! draw cerulian Coventry, Keeper, or rather Chancellor o’ th’ sea; And more exactly to express his hue, Use nothing but ultra-marinish blue. To pay his fees, the silver trumpet spends, And boatswain’s whistle for his place depends. Pilots in vain repeat their compass o’er, Until of him they learn that one point more: The constant magnet to the pole doth hold, Steel to the magnet, Coventry to gold. Muscovy sells us pitch, and hemp, and tar; Iron and copper, Sweden; Munster, war; Ashley, prize; Warwick, custom; Cart’ret, pay; But Coventry doth sell the fleet away.”
This is a curious reference to the first use of an expression which has not obtained a permanent position in the language. ↩
The turquoise. This stone was sometimes referred to simply as the turkey, and Broderip (Zoological Recreations) conjectured that the bird (turkey) took its name from the blue or turquoise colour of the skin about its head. ↩
There are many references to Captain De la Roche among the State Papers (see note 3926). ↩
“The Earl of Sandwich was still at Lisbon, expecting in few days the return of the ratification of the Treaty from Madrid.”
This prologue, “spoken by Mrs. Ellen and Mrs. Nepp,” is prefixed to Sir R. Howard’s Great Favourite, or the Duke of Lerma, 4to, 1668. It is too dull to reprint; and the merit must have consisted more in the manner in which it was delivered, than in the matter, as it came from the pen of the author. —B. ↩
Of Lowther, in Westmoreland, for which county he was knight of the shire before and at the Restoration. He had been made a baronet of Nova Scotia in 1640. —B. ↩
Pepys here refers to the extraordinary proceedings which occurred between Charles, Lord Gerard, and Alexander Fitton, of which a narrative was published at the Hague in 1665. Granger was a witness in the cause, and was afterwards said to be conscience-stricken from his perjury. Some notice of this case will be found in North’s Examen, p. 558; but the copious and interesting note in Ormerod’s History of Cheshire, vol. iii, p. 291, will best satisfy the reader, who will not fail to be struck by the paragraph with which it is closed—viz., “It is not improbable that Alexander Fitton, who, in the first instance, gained rightful possession of Gawsworth under an acknowledged settlement, was driven headlong into unpremeditated guilt by the production of a revocation by will which Lord Gerard had so long concealed. Having lost his own fortune in the prosecution of his claims, he remained in gaol till taken out by James II to be made Chancellor of Ireland (under which character Hume first notices him), was knighted, and subsequently created Lord Gawsworth after the abdication of James, sat in his parliament in Dublin in 1689, and then is supposed to have accompanied his fallen master to France. Whether the conduct of Fitton was met, as he alleges, by similar guilt on the part of Lord Gerard, God only can judge; but his hand fell heavily on the representatives of that noble house. In less than half a century the husbands of its two co-heiresses, James, Duke of Hamilton, and Charles, Lord Mohun, were slain by each other’s hands in a murderous duel arising out of a dispute relative to the partition of the Fitton estates, and Gawsworth itself passed to an unlineal hand, by a series of alienations complicated beyond example in the annals of this country.” —B. ↩
Musurgia Universalis, sive ars magna Consoni et Dissoni in X libros digesta, printed at Rome, in 1650, in two volumes, folio. The work of the learned but untrustworthy writer, Athanasius Kircher. ↩
The comedy of Albumazar was originally printed in 1615, having been performed before James I at Trinity College, Cambridge, by the gentlemen of that society, of which John Tomkis, the author of the play, was a member, on March 9th, 1614. The assertion of Pepys (derived from Dryden’s prologue on the revival of the comedy in 1668) is refuted by the fact that Ben Jonson’s Alchymist was acted four years before Albumazar was produced—namely, in 1610. This play will be found in vol. xi of Hazlitt’s edition of Dodsley’s Old Plays. Angell was one of the original performers in Davenant’s company; but early in his career he acted, as Downes informs us, “women’s parts,” from which he was of course excluded as soon as actresses were substituted. He then seems to have taken up broad comedy; and besides Trinculo, in Albumazar, we find him performing Woodcock, in Shadwell’s Sullen Lovers, a droll part in Lord Orrery’s Master Anthony, and Fribble, in Epsom Wells. ↩
Sir Thomas Fanshawe, K.B., who was created Viscount Fanshawe, of Ireland, in 1661, died in 1665, leaving three sons—Thomas, the Lord Fanshawe here mentioned, and Charles and Simon, who became successively the fourth and fifth viscounts. It is uncertain which of these two is here alluded to. Sir Richard Fanshawe, before noticed, was the youngest brother of the first Lord. —B. ↩
The Order in Council for this meeting of Sir John Minnes, Sir William Penn, and some of the Brethren of the Trinity House, with the Duke of York, is dated February 21st. It is printed in Penn’s Life of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 460. ↩
Ibrahim, ou l’illustre Bassa. It was the first of that almost interminable series of “Twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt,” published by Madeleine de Scudéry. It was printed in 1641. —B. ↩
Christopher Gibbons, organist to the king, and of Westminster Abbey. See note 1070. ↩
The Bishop of Rochester’s wife was Catherine, daughter of Ralph Sheldon, of Stanton, Derbyshire, and niece of Gilbert Sheldon, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. His two sons were Gilbert (1658–1722), who afterwards became one of the judges of the Common Pleas in Ireland, and was created a baronet in 1704; and John Dolben (1662–1710), who was M.P. for Liskeard, and one of the managers of Sacheverell’s impeachment. ↩
A scholar appointed to make a satirical and jesting speech at an Act in the University of Oxford. Mr. Christopher Wordsworth gives, in his Social Life at the English Universities in the Eighteenth Century, 1874, a list of terræ-filii from 1591 to 1713 (pp. 296–298, 680). The terræ filius was sometimes expelled the university on account of the licence of his speech. The practice was discontinued early in the eighteenth century, but a terræ filius appeared on the stage as late as 1763—“he was not, however, a veritable descendant of those quasi-statutable personages who claimed a right, as established by the ancient forms of the university, to exercise their talents for satire and raillery at every celebration of the Act” (Wilberforce, p. 306). ↩
The Spanish Tragedy, or Hieronymo Is Mad Again, by Thomas Kyd; frequently printed from about 1594. It is included in Dodsley’s Old Plays (Hazlitt’s edition, vol. v). ↩
A pastoral comedy, from the Pastor Fido of Guarini, a translation of which, by D. D., Gent., was published in 1633. ↩
M.P. for Ludlow; and in 1673 elected Speaker, which office he resigned on the plea of ill health. He was successively King’s Serjeant, 1668; Chief Justice of Chester, and a Justice of the Common Pleas (1680–1686). He was restored to his Chief Justiceship of Chester, and created a baronet, 1686; and died May 27th, 1697. ↩
“Feb. 27, 1668. Hugh Salesbury to Williamson. Sir Thomas Allin has appeared in sight from the Downs with 4 ships named. He met Capt. De la Roche with another French man-of-war, and commanded him aboard, where he now remains; he is stayed for having Capt. [Wm.] Skelton and 200 or 300 English sailors aboard him. Sir Thomas and the French ships are riding at anchor at Spithead.”
“Feb. 27. ⸻ to Williamson. Mons. De la Roche, with his consort, after having left Sir Thomas Allin 2 hours, was forced back by the weather, and then Sir Thomas, having received orders, stopped him, and took from him a small Ostender, which he had taken out of one of our harbours, and also 103 (sic) Englishmen, together with Lieut. Col. Skelton.”
The order of precedence of peers of Scotland and Ireland was settled by the respective acts of union of Scotland and Ireland, thus—dukes of Scotland follow dukes of England, then come in the following order dukes of Great Britain, of Ireland, and of the United Kingdom. Each degree in the peerage follows the same order. ↩
The Spanish Gipsie, a comedy by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley, first printed in 1653. ↩
The famous Joseph Haines or Haynes, who was so popular that two biographies of him were printed in 1701, after his death. One of them, entitled, The Life of the Famous Comedian, Jo. Haynes, containing his Comical Exploits and Adventures, both at Home and Abroad, 8vo, states that he had acted under Captain Bedford, “whilst the playhouse in Hatton Garden lasted.” This would therefore seem to be the “Nursery” alluded to by Pepys. Haines was a low comedian and a capital dancer. He was educated at the school of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, and was sent to Queen’s College, Oxford, by some friends who bore the expense. Williamson on being appointed Secretary of State made Haines his Latin secretary. Haines kept this appointment a very short time, and took to the stage. One dramatic piece is attributed to him, A Fatal Mistake, or the Plot Spoiled, 4to, 1692, 1696. ↩
Edward Boscawen, M.P. for Truro, ancestor of the present Viscount Falmouth. —B. ↩
Sir Thomas Halford, of Wistowe, Leicestershire, the second baronet of his race: he was born in 1638, and died in 1679, having succeeded to his grandfather’s titles and estates in 1658, and had twenty-two children by his first wife, Selina, daughter of William Welby, Esq., of Denton, Lincolnshire. No other notice of the duel has been traced. —B. ↩
A Commissioner of Customs. He was a younger son of the first Lord Newport, of High Ercall, Salop. —B. ↩
At the meeting of the Royal Society on March 12th, 1668, “Mr. Smethwick’s glasses were tried again; and his telescope being compared with another longer telescope, and the object-glasses exchanged, was still found to exceed the other in goodness; and his burning concave being compared with a spherical burning-glass of almost twice the diameter, and held to the fire, it burnt gloves, whereas the other spherical ones would not burn at all.”—“Sir Robert Southwell being lately returned from Portugal, where he had been ambassador from the king, and being desired to acquaint the society with what he had done with respect to the instructions, which he had received from them before his departure from England, related, that he had lodged the astronomical quadrant, which the society had sent to Portugal to make observations with there, with a body of men at Lisbon, who had applied themselves among other kinds of literature to mathematics” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 256). ↩
“Briske. A fellow that never wore a noble and polite garniture, or a white periwig, one that has not a bit of interest at Chatolin’s, or ever ate a good fricacy, sup, or ragoust in his life.”
A pewter cistern was formerly part of the furniture of a well-appointed dining room; the plates were rinsed in it, when necessary, during the meal. A magnificent silver cistern is still preserved in the dining room at Burghley House, the seat of the Marquis of Exeter. It is said to be the largest piece of plate in England, and was once the subject of a curious wager. —B. ↩
The same as Morland’s so-called calculating machine. Sir Samuel published in 1673 The Description and Use of Two Arithmetic Instruments, Together with a Short Treatise of Arithmetic, as Likewise a Perpetual Almanac and Severall Useful Tables. ↩
“Panteon, a term given by the Spaniards to a Christian burial vault. … Philip III began the present gorgeous chamber under the high altar, which Philip IV completed in 1654, moving in the royal bodies on the 17th of March. The entrance, with its gilt ornaments and variegated marbles, has nothing in common with the sepulchral sentiment.”
The sermon here referred to was preached by a monk of the order of St. Jerome in 1654; part of it was translated by the Rev. Edward Clarke, who calls it the most extraordinary funeral sermon he ever met with (Clarke’s Letters Concerning the Spanish Nation, 1763, p. 141). ↩
John Ball, Treasurer of Excise. In a petition to the king, praying for a pension (dated September 2nd, 1668), he writes:
“I served your majesty and your father in England and Ireland for 30 years, and lived in exile with your majesty until your restoration, finding the funds out of my private estate for 23 years, and receiving no pay nor gratuity. After the restoration, when the excise was settled on your majesty by Act of Parliament, I was constituted Treasurer of Excise, which office I held seven years, but the Treasury Commissioners upon the alteration of the management of that revenued is missed me from my employment.”
On the 14th of the same month Ball was granted £200 in consideration of his loss of a salary of £400 a year (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68 pp. 566, 585). ↩
This must have been Florio’s translation, as Cotton’s was not published until 1685. ↩
The Life of the Thrice Noble, High, and Puissant Prince, William Cavendish, Duke … of Newcastle, by his duchess, of which the first edition, in folio, was published in 1667. ↩
William Acworth, storekeeper at Woolwich, was accused of converting stores to his own use (see Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, p. 279). ↩
Edward Reynolds, Preacher of Lincoln’s Inn, was appointed Dean of Oxford in 1648, but ejected in 1650. He was restored March 13th, 1659–60, but was forced to quit soon afterwards. He was consecrated Bishop of Norwich, January 13th, 1660–61. He died July 28th, 1676, aged seventy-six. ↩
Ann Pett, writing to Pepys from Woolwich, March 26th, 1668, says:
“My husband died last Sunday, and has left me in a mean condition, having spent by losses and sickness my own estate and his, and I have four children and am £300 in debt. His sickness has cost, since he came to Woolwich, £700, besides what is now to pay. I entreat you to assist me in obtaining £500 due to my husband, as also money owing in the yard, and to stand my friend to the Navy Commissioners, that I may continue in my house some time longer; my husband always attended to his majesty’s service, and never looked after his own concerns.”
It was customary for the apprentices of the metropolis to avail themselves of their holidays, especially on Shrove Tuesday, to search after women of ill fame, and to confine them during the season of Lent. See a Satyre Against Separatists, 1642.
“Stand forth, Shrove Tuesday, one a’ the silenc’st bricklayers; ’Tis in your charge to pull down bawdyhouses.”
The Clerkenwell Bridewell, although built in 1615, was long known as the New Prison; it stood on the site afterwards occupied by the House of Detention in Clerkenwell Close. ↩
Now, as being the father of Lady Hinchingbrooke, connected with Pepys. —B. ↩
Sir W. Davenant’s last play, a comedy published in 1669. The plot is taken from two plays of Scarron—Jodelet, ou le Maître Valet, and L’Héritière Ridicule. The scene is laid in Madrid. ↩
Sandford.
“This comedy in general was very well perform’d, especially the Master by Mr. Harris; the man by Mr. Underbill. Mr. Harris and Mr. Sandford singing the epilogue like two street Ballad-singers.”
Sir Thomas Adams was born at Wem, in Shropshire, in 1586, and after being educated at Cambridge, carried on business as a draper in London. Sheriff, 1639; Lord Mayor, 1645. He was kept in the Tower for some time on account of his loyalty to the king. He was one of the deputies sent by the City to the Hague to attend on Charles II on his return from Breda to London, and was there knighted. He was created a baronet, June 13th, 1660. He founded the free school at Wem, as well as the Arabic Lecture at Cambridge. He died February 24th, 1667–68. The shock caused by a fall from his coach displaced the stone mentioned by Pepys, and led to fatal consequences (Dict. of Nat. Biog.). The stone was exhibited at the Royal Society (March 26th, 1668), the exact weight being 22⅜ oz. Troy (Birch’s History, vol. ii, p. 260). ↩
Samuel Cooper (1609–1672) was living in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, in 1645, and he was still there when Pepys visited him. ↩
Jane, his second wife, daughter of Cheney Selherst, of Tenterden, and relict of Edward Austen. ↩
“March 30, 1668. The King to the Duke of York. The French fleet, under the Duke de Beaufort, is come to sea, and intends to cruise in the Channel; you are to order Sir Thos. Allin, admiral of the westward squadron, if he find the French fleet at sea, and much exceeding him in strength, to repair to the Downs with his own squadron and Sir Edw. Spragg’s, leaving 2 vessels to give advice, and to inform him if the French fleet sails up the Channel. If it be at sea, and not too strong for him, he is to pursue his former instructions.”
The Royal Society at this time was very persistent in its attempts to get money. At a meeting of the council on April 13th, Lord Berkeley and the Bishop of Salisbury were desired to ask in the House of Peers the bishops of the society for contributions. The president and Henry Howard, of Norfolk, were desired to speak to the temporal lords of the society for the same purpose. “Henry Howard, of Norfolk, accordingly took a list of several lords and gentlemen in order to solicit their contributions” (Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 265). ↩
At this meeting (April 2), “Mr. Hooke produced a glass receiver for the improvement of hearing. Being tried by holding the neck of it to the ear, it was found that a stronger sound was conveyed by it, than would have been without it. It was ordered, that at the next meeting there should be brought a better and larger receiver for hearing” (Birch, vol. ii, p. 261). ↩
Otacousticon, an instrument to facilitate hearing, or ear-trumpet.
Ronca
Sir, this is called an autocousticon.
Pandolfo
Autocousticon! Why, ’tis a pair of ass’s ears, and large ones.
Marin Mersenne (1588–1648) published in 1637 (in two volumes folio) his work entitled, L’Harmonie Universelle, contenant la théorie et la pratique de la Musique. The author translated it into Latin, and enlarged it (1648). Mersenne was highly esteemed by Descartes. ↩
Philip Herbert, fifth Earl of Pembroke, and second Earl of Montgomery. Died December 11th, 1669. ↩
Mr. Julian Marshall quotes this passage in illustration of the necessity for keeping a good temper during the game of tennis and the difficulty of doing so (Annals of Tennis, p. 205). ↩
Four were executed on May 9th, namely, Thomas Limmerick, Edward Cotton, Peter Massenger, and Richard Beasley. They were drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn, and two of their heads fixed upon London Bridge (The London Gazette, No. 259). See The Trials of Such Persons as Under the Notion of London Apprentices Were Tumultuously Assembled in Moore Fields, Under Colour of Pulling Down Bawdyhouses, 4to, London, 1668. “It is to be observed,” says The London Gazette, “to the just vindication of the City, that none of the persons apprehended upon the said tumult were found to be apprentices, as was given out, but some idle persons, many of them nursed in the late Rebellion, too readily embracing any opportunity of making their own advantages to the disturbance of the peace, and injury of others.” ↩
“The Poor Whores’ Petition to the most splendid, illustrious, serene and eminent Lady of Pleasure the Countess of Castlemayne, etc., signed by us, Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page, this present 25th day of March, 1668.” This sham petition occasioned a pretended answer, entitled, “The Gracious Answer of the Most Illustrious Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castlem … to the Poor Whores’ Petition.” It is signed, “Given at our Closset, in King Street, Westminster, die Veneris, April 24, 1668. Castlem. …” Compare Evelyn, April 2nd, 1668. ↩
Frances Davenport, the eldest sister of Elizabeth Davenport, the famous Roxalana. In previous editions the name has been printed incorrectly as Davenant. ↩
Charles Hart (see note 3602). This name has been printed in previous editions as Hall. ↩
The recorder was a reed instrument, but on the side near the mouthpiece there was a hole covered with a piece of bladder, which modified the quality of the sound. ↩
Afterwards Sir John Holmes, Governor of Usk Castle. His grandson, Thomas, was created Lord Holmes of Kilmallock. ↩
Margaret, sister of Anthony Lowther, who had married Margaret Penn. The marriage licence of John Holmes, of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, bachelor, about 28, and Margaret Lowther of the same, spinster, aged 20, is dated April 6th, 1668 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 702). ↩
The proceedings against Harman will be found in the Journals of the House of Commons, April 17th, 1668. —B. ↩
The entries from April 10th to April 19th are transcribed from three leaves (six pages) of rough notes, which are inserted in the MS. Eight pages are left blank for the insertion of the amplified Diary; but apparently Pepys never found time to write up the missing entries, and therefore inserted the rough notes when he came to bind the Diary. These notes are interesting as showing how the journals were compiled. It will be seen that the rough notes were made to serve for a sort of account book, but the amounts paid are not registered in the fair copy. ↩
Probably the Golden Legend of Jac. de Voragine; there were several early editions of the English version. —B. ↩
The Folly was a floating house of entertainment on the Thames, which at this time was a fashionable resort. ↩
A comedy by Sir Robert Howard. Mrs. Knepp played Emilia. ↩
Musical Compendium, Translated by a Person of Honour. London, 1653. 4to. This work of Descartes was translated by Viscount Brouncker. ↩
The story alluded to by Pepys, which belongs not to the reign of Richard III, but to that of Edward VI, occurred during a seditious outbreak at Bodmin, in Cornwall, and is thus related by Holinshed: “At the same time, and near the same place [Bodmin], dwelled a miller, that had been a great doer in that rebellion, for whom also Sir Anthony Kingston sought: but the miller being thereof warned, called a good tall fellow that he had to his servant, and said unto him, ‘I have business to go from home; if any therefore come to ask for me, say thou art the owner of the mill, and the man for whom they shall so ask, and that thou hast kept this mill for the space of three years; but in no wise name me.’ The servant promised his master so to do. And shortly after, came Sir Anthony Kingston to the miller’s house, and calling for the miller, the servant came forth, and answered that he was the miller. ‘How long,’ quoth Sir Anthony, ‘hast thou kept this mill?’ He answered, ‘Three years.’—‘Well, then,’ said he, ‘come on: thou must go with me;’ and caused his men to lay hands on him, and to bring him to the next tree, saying to him, ‘Thou hast been a busy knave, and therefore here shalt thou hang.’ Then cried the fellow out, and said that he was not the miller, but the miller’s man. ‘Well, then,’ said Sir Anthony, ‘thou art a false knave to be in two tales: therefore,’ said he, ‘hang him up;’ and so incontinently hanged he was indeed. After he was dead, one that was present told Sir Anthony, ‘Surely, sir, this was but the miller’s man.’—‘What then!’ said he, ‘could he ever have done his master better service than to hang for him?’ ” —B. ↩
The first part of the entry for April 20th is among the rough notes, and stands as follows: “Monday 20. Up and busy about answer to Committee of Accounts this morning about several questions which vexed me though in none I have reason to be troubled. But the business of The Flying Greyhound begins to find me some care, though in that I am wholly void of blame.” This may be compared with the text. ↩
Sir William Hooker, grocer. Sheriff of London in 1665, afterwards knighted, and Lord Mayor in 1674. His daughter was Anne, who married Sir John Lethieulier, of Sutton Place, Kent, Sheriff of London in 1674. —B. ↩
From sitting as a member pending the impeachment. —B. ↩
At Romney, which Henry Brouncker represented. —B. ↩
Sir Charles Berkeley, jun. was chosen in his room. In the sea-fight off Southwold Bay on June 3rd, 1665, the English triumphed over the Dutch, but the very considerable victory was not followed up. During the night, while the Duke of York slept, Henry Brouncker, his groom of the bedchamber, ordered the lieutenant to shorten sail, by which means the progress of the whole fleet was retarded, the Duke of York’s being the leading ship. The duke affirmed that he first heard of Brouncker’s unjustifiable action in July, and yet he kept the culprit in his service for nearly two years after the offence had come to his knowledge. After Brouncker had been dismissed from the duke’s service, the House of Commons ejected him. The whole matter is one of the unsolved difficulties of history. See Lister’s Life of Clarendon, ii, 334, 335. ↩
The famous Cock tavern (formerly the Cock and Bottle) in Fleet Street, opposite Middle Temple Gate, was pulled down to make room for the Law Courts branch of the Bank of England (erected 1888). Some of the old fittings were removed to No. 22 on the south side of the street, where the revived Cock was opened in 1888. ↩
Nicholas Fouquet, Surintendant des Finances in France, had built at Vaux a house which surpassed in magnificence any palace belonging to Louis XIV, prior to the erection of Versailles, and caused much envy to all the Court, especially to Colbert. “On voyait partout dans cette maison les armes at la devise de Fouquet; c’est un ecureuil, avec ces paroles, Quò non ascendant? ‘Où ne monterai-je point?’ Le Roi se les fit expliquer. L’ambition de cette devise ne servit pas à apaiser le monarque. Les courtisans remarquèrent que l’ecureuil était peint partout poursuivi par un couleuvre, qui était les armes de Colbert!” Fouquet died at Pignerol in 1680, after nineteen years’ incarceration; and whilst Pepys was buying his books in London, Colbert had become prime minister in France, and Colbert’s brother ambassador in England. The viper had caught the squirrel! —B. ↩
Probably Los Claros Varones, The Celebrated Men, of Fernando del Pulgar, historiographer to Isabella and Ferdinand. He was ambitious to be thought the Plutarch of his nation, whence the title of his book. However, the book meant by Pepys may be, Varones ilustres del Nuevo Mundo, descubridores, conquistadores, pacificadores de las Indias Occidentales, by Fernando Pizarro y Orellana; printed at Madrid in 1639. —B. ↩
Letitia Isabella, daughter of Sir John Smith, of Kent. Lord Robartes’s first wife was Lady Lucy, daughter of Robert Rich, second Earl of Warwick, the mother of Robert Robartes, here mentioned, who had married Sarah, daughter and heir of John Bodvile, of Bodvile Castle, in Caernarvonshire. He died, s. p., in 1681, while ambassador to Denmark, having assumed the title of Viscount Bodmin, upon his fathers elevation to the earldom of Radnor, in 1679. —B. See note 2152. ↩
William Wintershall, or Wintersell, was one of the original actors under Killigrew, at Drury Lane, and played the king in The Humourous Lieutenant, at the opening of that theatre. He was also Sir Amorous in Ben Jonson’s Silent Woman; Subtle in the Alchemist; the king in Henry the Fourth, etc. Downes (Roscius Anglicanus, p. 17) says, “Mr. Wintersell was good in tragedy, as well as in comedy, especially in Cokes, in Bartholomew Fair, that the famous comedian, Nokes, came, in that part, far short of him.” He was an excellent instructor, and died in July, 1679. One of his best comic parts, to the last, was Master Slender, which John Dennis praises highly. ↩
“April 2. The Resolution, a new ship, is rigging at Harwich.”
The dispute here alluded to had its origin in a petition against the East India Company, presented to the Peers by Thomas Skinner, a merchant, which led to the memorable quarrel between the two Houses of Parliament upon a question of privilege. The particulars of the case are detailed in Lingard’s History of England, vol. xii, p. 234, fourth edition. The session was prorogued without the matter being settled, and the dispute was only adjusted in 1670 by the Peers consenting to the expedient proposed by the Commons, that a general razure should be made of all the transactions relating to the disputed point. Anchitel Grey, in his Debates, vol. i, p. 150, speaking of the quarrel between the two Houses, states, that in order to reconcile them, the king recommended the entries relating thereto should be erased from their journals. Grey, however, has preserved an account of this memorable case. —B. ↩
It is given at length in the parliamentary histories. —B. ↩
The Duke of Ormonde, Lord Lieutenant 1643–47, 1648–50, 1662–69, 1677–85. ↩
A parish in Huntingdonshire, seven miles N.W. of Huntingdon. ↩
“Whilst Positive walks, like Woodcock in the park, Contriving projects with a brewer’s clerk.”
Andrew Marvell’s Instructions to a Painter, part iii, to which is subjoined the following note: “Sir Robert Howard, and Sir William Bucknell, the brewer.” —Works, ed. by Capt. E. Thompson, vol. iii, p. 405. —B. ↩
Lord Braybrooke supposes this to be Margaret Hughes, but it seems scarcely possible that this actress, described as “newly come,” could be the mistress of Prince Rupert, who was one of the original actresses of the King’s Company, and was the first woman to act Desdemona. ↩
The song in Sir C. Sedley’s play, The Mulberry Garden, is “Ah, Cloris, that I now could sit;” the author of which, until within these few years, was supposed to be a Scotchman, from the circumstance of its having been sung to a Scotch air, called “Gilderoy.” Banister’s music to it has not been discovered. —B. ↩
Marylebone Gardens, situated in the fields at the back of the manor house, on ground now occupied by Beaumont Street and part of Devonshire Street. The carriage entrance was in High Street, Marylebone. ↩
The Duchess of Richmond, who had recently been ill of the smallpox. —B. ↩
Subsequently named after the title of Cleveland conferred on Lady Castlemaine, and now preserved in the names of Cleveland Row and Cleveland Square. It stood on the site of the present Bridgewater House. ↩
“The Prince’s Chamber stood on the north side of Palace Yard, and the Sovereigns passed through it in their way to the old House of Lords.”
Sir Samuel Barnadiston (1620–1707), of Brightwell Hall, Suffolk, created a baronet May 11th, 1663, and described in the patent as of “irreproachable loyalty.” ↩
This “odd case” was that of Thomas Skinner and the East India Company. According to Ralph, the Commons had ordered Skinner, the plaintiff, into the custody of the Serjeant-at-Arms, and the Lords did the same by Sir Samuel Barnadiston, deputy-governor of the company, as likewise Sir Andrew Rickard, Mr. Rowland Gwynn, and Mr. Christopher Boone. —B. ↩
So called from the palace of the bishops of Durham from the thirteenth century. Bishop Hatfield rebuilt the house in 1345. It stood on the site of the buildings now called the Adelphi, and the name is preserved in Durham Street. ↩
The Loriners, or Lorimers (bit-makers), of London are by reputation an ancient mistery, but they were first incorporated by letters patent of 10 Queen Anne (December 3rd, 1711). Their small hall was at the corner of Basinghall Street in London Wall. The company has no hall now. ↩
A comedy by Fletcher, first acted in 1622 (Beaumont and Fletcher’s Comedies and Tragedies, 1647). Genest does not mention the revival of the play at this date. ↩
Probably in Bloomsbury Square, the north side of which was then occupied by Southampton House, the town residence of the late Lord Treasurer Southampton. Lord Bellasis began to build in St. James’s Square in 1670, and occupied the house at the corner of Charles Street (now Derby House) in 1688–89 (Dasent’s St. James’s Square, 1895). ↩
Who resided at the mansion afterwards called Kensington Palace. In 1661 Sir Heneage Finch, son of the Recorder of London, purchased this property from his younger brother, Sir John Finch, M.D., and which, after his advancement to the peerage, obtained the name of Nottingham House. In 1691 it was purchased by King William. Dryden has finely drawn the character of Sir Heneage Finch in the poem of Absalom and Achitophel, under the name of Amri. —Faulkner’s Kensington. —B. ↩
John Vaughan, M.P., the celebrated lawyer, who is frequently mentioned in the Diary. He took an active part in the proceedings against Lord Chancellor Clarendon, and was rewarded with the Chief Justiceship of the Common Pleas in May, 1668, when he was knighted. ↩
Samuel Sorbière’s original work was published at Cologne in 1667, and entitled Relation d’un Voyage en Angleterre. It was afterwards translated into English. ↩
On the site of the present Buckingham Palace and gardens. Originally a garden of mulberry trees, planted by James I in 1609 with the intention of cultivating the manufacture of English silks. ↩
In 1666 the site of Merton, alias Martin Priory, was conveyed by Ellis Crispe to Thomas Pepys, of Hatcham Barnes, Master of the Jewel Office to Charles II and James II. —Manning’s Surrey. —B. ↩
Sir John Shaw’s Flanders hemp was rejected by the Navy Commissioners. William Bodham, writing from Woolwich Ropeyard, May 12th, 1668, says:
“There are 15 or 16 tons of Sir John Shaw’s Flanders hemp thrown by and refused; it must be weighed and taken away before he can tell what the net will be, and make out bills. Asks orders how to rate a portion of it, as out of 35 tons 15 or 16 were ejected.”
Afterwards Sir Robert Sawyer, Attorney-General, ancestor of the Earls of Carnarvon, who inherit High Clere from him. —B. ↩
John Donne, D.D. (1573–1631), was brought up as a Roman Catholic, and spent his early life as a courtier, being for a time secretary to Lord Keeper Egerton. He was forty-two years of age when he took orders. In 1621, five years after ordination, he became Dean of St. Paul’s. ↩
John Lambert, the parliamentary general, was born at Calton Hall, in the parish of Kirkby-Malhamdale, in Yorkshire, September 7th, 1619, and married September 10th, 1639, Frances, daughter of Sir William Lister, of Thornton, his neighbour, who seems to be the Lady Lambert of whom Pepys speaks (History of Malham, 8vo, 1786, Appendix, p. 18). His wife and two of his daughters were with him in 1673 during his confinement in Plymouth Sound (see note 51). ↩
She died January 15th, 1757, aged ninety-six! —B. ↩
Evidently adopted as a cant expression. The woman here alluded to was a procuress well known in her day, and described in the Tatler (No. 84) as “the celebrated Madam Bennet.” We further learn, from the Spectator (No. 266), that she was the Lady B. to whom Wycherley addressed his ironical dedication of The Plain Dealer, which is considered as a masterpiece of raillery. It is worthy of remark that the fair sex may justly complain of almost every word in the English language designating a woman having, at some time or another, been used as a term of reproach; for we find Mother, Madam, Mistress, and Miss, all denoting women of bad character; and here Pepys adds the title of my Lady to the number, and completes the ungracious catalogue. —B. ↩
Pepys here alludes to Sir Nicholas Cully (Nokes’s character) in Etherege’s Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub. —B. ↩
What this story may have been it would now be futile to inquire. It evidently gave great amusement to Pepys. See May 14th and 28th, 1669, post. —B. ↩
The body of the church was destroyed in the fire of 1666, and rebuilt; but the tower only needed repair. The works were completed in 1670. ↩
The rough notes for the journal from this time to the 17th of June are contained on five leaves, inserted in the book; and after them follow several pages left blank for the fair copy which was never made. ↩
Newport Pagnell, a town in Buckinghamshire, which takes its second name from the family of Paganel, who formerly owned the manor. The church is a handsome building, with nave, aisles, and chancel, and with pinnacled tower. ↩
This must have been either Inigo Jones’s The Most Notable Antiquity of Great Britain Vulgarly Called Stonehenge, printed in 1655, or Chorea Gigantum, or the most famous Antiquity of Great Britain, vulgarly called Stones Heng, standing on Salisbury Plain, restor’d to the Danes, by Walter Charleton, M.D., and published in 1663. ↩
Henry Chichele, Archbishop of Canterbury, the founder of All Souls’ College, born 1363, died 1443. ↩
John Middleton, the remarkable person here alluded to, known by the name of “The Child of Hale,” was born in 1578, and buried in the churchyard of Hale, in Lancashire, in 1623, where his gravestone is still to be seen. About the year 1617 Sir Gilbert Ireland took him up to the court of James I, when he threw the king’s wrestler, and put out his thumb, by which feat he disobliged the courtiers, and was sent back, with a present of £20 from the sovereign. He returned home by Brazenose College, then full of Lancashire students, and his picture was taken, and is still preserved there. Likenesses of this English giant are also extant at High Legh, at Knowsley, and at Mr. Ireland Blackburne’s seat, at Hale. “Middleton’s hand,” observes Plot (History of Staffordshire, p. 295), “measured, from the carpus to the end of his middle finger, seventeen inches, his palm was eight inches and a half broad, and his whole height nine feet three inches, wanting but six inches of the height of Goliath, if the portrait of him in Brazenose Library, drawn at length, as it is said, in his just proportion, be a true piece of him.” These dimensions appear to have been compared with the portrait at Hale, with which they exactly accorded, as did the shape of the giant’s hand cut upon a stone in the college cellar, with the date affixed, to which Pepys alludes. The blank in the Diary, after the word Hales, was obviously left for the dimensions of the hand. —B. Mr. Falconer Madan, Assistant Librarian of the Bodleian, has kindly given the editor the following particulars, which supplement Lord Braybrooke’s note. Middleton was treated at Brasenose College because it drew largely from Lancashire and Cheshire. The portrait referred to above is now in the Buttery. There is also in the Buttery a picture of the hand of the man full size, and till the last ten years there was an outline of a hand on a gilt background on the eastern one of the two doorposts of the cellar door under the hall on the south side of the latter, at the foot of a flight of stone steps. ↩
A MS. History of Abingdon, collected by Francis Little, one of the principal burgesses, in the year 1627, now in the possession of the corporation. —B. ↩
Thomas Foley, of Witley Court, who himself founded a hospital for sixty boys at Stourbridge, in Worcestershire. See October 27th, 1664. He probably wished for precedents as to the mode of settlement. —B. ↩
See Ashmole’s Antiquities of Berkshire, vol. i, 1719, p. 134. The following is the rebus noticed by Pepys:
“V.A.B.I.N.D.O.N.R.F.I. Take the first letter of youre foure fader, with A., the worker of Wer, and I. and N. the colore of an asse; set them togeder, and tel me yf you can, what it is than. Richard Fannande, Irenmonger, hathe made this Tabul, and here in the yere of King Herry the Sexte, XXVIte.”
Probably a mistake for East or Market Lavington, which lies in the same direction. —B. ↩
Pepys must mean that the earthworks, more than a hundred feet in height, were prodigious and alarming, the space contained within them being only twenty-seven acres. There is undoubtedly something sublime in standing within the area, in the complete solitude and magnificence of the ramparts. —B. ↩
It was much to the credit of Pepys’s taste that in an age when Gothic architecture was little admired he could see the beauties of this matchless building. ↩
Seth Ward, born 1617; F.R.S.; Savilian Professor and President of Trinity College, Oxford; Dean of Exeter, 1661; Bishop of Exeter, 1662; translated to Salisbury, 1667. In 1671 he was made Chancellor of the Order of the Garter, which office he procured to be annexed to the see. Died January 6th, 1689. ↩
The Montacutes, from whom Lord Sandwich’s family claimed descent. —B. ↩
“In the floor of the nave of the church of Norton St. Philips are the mutilated portraitures, in stone, of two females, close to each other, and called, by the inhabitants, The Fair Maidens of Fosscot, or Fosstoke, a neighbouring hamlet, now depopulated. There is a tradition that the persons they represent were twins, whose bodies were at their birth conjoined together: that they arrived at a state of maturity; and that one of them dying, the survivor was compelled to drag about her lifeless companion, till death released her of the horrid burden.”
Collinson’s Hist. of Somersetshire, vol. iii, p. 371, in which no notice occurs of the Templar’s tomb
At Biddenden, in Kent, is a tradition of the same kind, but, according to Hasted, without foundation. See History of Kent, vol. iii, p. 66, folio ed. —B. ↩
The Cross Bath took its name from an old cross which stood in the centre of the bath. This was repaired in 1675 by Mr. W. Coo, of Grandford, Northamptonshire, who put a bordure of lead round it. In 1687 Mary of Modena, queen of James II, tried the effect of the Cross Bath, and was benefited by it. John, Earl of Melfort, erected a marble pillar, with a Latin inscription, in honour of the event, in place of the old cross. The pillar being insecure was taken down in 1783. ↩
“They draw all their heavy goods here on sleds, or sledges, which they call ‘gee hoes,’ without wheels, which kills a multitude of horses.” Another writer says, “They suffer no carts to be used in the city, lest, as some say, the shake occasioned by them on the pavement should affect the Bristol milk (the sherry) in the vaults, which is certainly had here in the greatest perfection.” An order of Common Council occurs in 1651 to prohibit the use of carts and wagons-only suffering drays. “Camden in giving our city credit for its cleanliness in forming ‘goutes,’ says they use sledges here instead of carts, lest they destroy the arches beneath which are the goutes.”
Francis Baylie, shipbuilder of Bristol, whose name frequently appears in the Calendars of State Papers. ↩
Daniel Furzer, who was Surveyor to the Navy from 1699 to 1714. ↩
Mayor of Bristol, 1663, and M.P. for that city. —B. ↩
A sort of rum punch (milk punch), which, and turtle, were products of the trade of Bristol with the West Indies. So Byron says in the first edition of his English Bards and Scotch Reviewers:
“Too much in turtle Bristol’s sons delight, Too much o’er bowls of rack prolong the night.”
These lines will not be found in the modern editions; but the following are substituted:
“Four turtle feeder’s verse must needs he flat, Though Bristol bloat him with the verdant fat.”
Lord Macaulay says of the collations with which the sugar-refiners of Bristol regaled their visitors: “The repast was dressed in the furnace, And was accompanied by a rich brewage made of the best Spanish wine, and celebrated over the whole kingdom as Bristol milk” (Hist. of England, vol. i, p. 335) —B. ↩
James Montagu, Bishop of Bath and Wells in 1608, and of Winchester in 1616—died 1618. He was uncle to the Earl of Sandwich, whose mother was Pepys’s aunt. Hence Pepys’s curiosity respecting the tomb. —B. ↩
Tobias Venner, who practised as a physician at Bath nearly half a century, and died March 27th, 1660, aged eighty-five. —B. ↩
John Felling, B.D., rector of Bath for thirty years. —B. ↩
Jane, sole daughter of Sir Richard Reynell, wife of Sir William Waller, the parliamentary general. —B. ↩
There is a notice of Silbury in Rickman’s paper on the antiquity of Abury and Stonehenge in The Archæologia, vol. xxviii, p. 402. ↩
Littlecott House, a fine old mansion, in the parish of Ramsbury, Wilts, still in the possession of the Popham family. Special interest has attached to the place, as the supposed scene of the extraordinary child murder ascribed to William Darel, who sold Littlecott to Sir John Popham, 1587, accounts of which have been given by Aubrey, by Sir Walter Scott in Rokeby, and in Britton’s Wiltshire, vol. iii, p. 260. ↩
Hampstead Marshall is in Hampshire. Lord Craven’s celebrated mansion, designed by Sir Balthasar Gerbier after the model of Heidelberg Castle, was built 1626–65. It was destroyed by fire in 1718, and succeeded by the present mansion of the Earl of Craven, which is styled Hampstead House. ↩
This ballad was first printed in the reign of James I by T. Simcocke, and is reprinted in most of the collections of songs and ballads. In the reign of Charles II, “T. Howard, Gent.,” wrote and published “An old song of the old Courtiers of the King’s, with a new song of a new Courtier of the King’s to the tune of ‘The Queen’s old Courtier.’ ” A still more modern version has been in vogue under the title of “The Fine Old English Gentleman.” ↩
“Such an operation was performed in this year, after a consultation of medical men, and chiefly by Locke’s advice, and the wound was afterwards always kept open, a silver pipe being inserted. This saved Lord Ashley’s life, and gave him health.”
Christie’s Life of the First Earl of Shaftesbury, vol. ii, p. 34
Tapski was a name given to Shaftesbury in derision, and vile defamers described the abscess, which had originated in a carriage accident in Holland, as the result of extreme dissipation. Lines by Duke, a friend and imitator of Dryden:
“The working ferment of his active mind, In his weak body’s cask with pain confined, Would burst the rotten vessel where ’tis pent, But that ’tis tapt to give the treason vent.”
John George, Elector of Saxony, invested with the Garter, April 13th, 1668; installed by proxy. May 29th, 1671; and died 1680. ↩
A comedy, Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer, not published until 1671. The scene was at Madrid, and the time the last evening of the Carnival in 1665. ↩
H. Herringman, a printer and publisher in the New Exchange. See August 10th, 1667, ante. —B. ↩
June 22nd. At a meeting of the Council
“Mr. Hoskyns reported, that he had conferred with Mr. Henry Howard concerning the security of the ground given by him to build upon; and that Mr. Howard was wilhng to enter into a bond of six thousand pounds for performance of covenants forthwith, and into another of six thousand pounds more, that he would within a twelvemonth either procure an act of parliament to enable him to make estates of the ground belonging to Arundel House notwithstanding the act of 3 Car. I that had intailed it; or other good and indefeasible title for the society, or else give them collateral security by conveying land to them.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, pp. 299–300
Daubigny Turberville, of Oriel College; created M.D. at Oxford, 1660. He was a physician of some eminence, and, dying at Salisbury on the 21st April, 1696, aged eighty-five, he was buried in the cathedral, where his monument remains. Cassan, in his Lives of the Bishops of Sarum, part iii, p. 103, has reprinted an interesting account of Turberville, from the Memoir of Bishop Seth Ward, published in 1697, by Dr. Walter Pope. Turberville was born at Wayford, co. Somerset, in 1612, and became an expert oculist; and probably Pepys received great benefit from his advice, as his vision does not appear to have failed during the many years that he lived after discontinuing the Diary. The doctor died rich, and subsequently to his decease his sister Mary, inheriting all his prescriptions, and knowing how to use them, practised as an oculist in London with good reputation. —B. ↩
George Thomson, John Gregory, Giles Dunster, Henry Osborne, not Sir Thomas Osborne, as stated in former editions. See list of Commissioners, vol. vii, p. 256. ↩
Lord Halifax’s mother was Anne, sister of Sir John and Sir William Coventry, and of Harry Coventry. She married, secondly, Sir Thomas Chichele, or Chicheley, of Wimpole, in Cambridgeshire, Master of the Ordnance, which circumstance explains many allusions made by Pepys. —B. ↩
Thomas Waldron matriculated at Balliol College in 1634, when he was fifteen years of age; created M.D. at Oxford, 1653; afterwards Physician in Ordinary to Charles II. He died February 5th, 1676–77, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. ↩
Richard Lower, a Cornishman, educated at Westminster School, whence he was elected a student of Christ Church, Oxford; B.A., 1653 M.A., 1655; M.D., 1665; F.R.S., 1667. He became the most noted physician in London, and died at his house in King Street, Covent Garden, January 17th, 1690–91. ↩
Almoner to the Queen, whose character was drawn in dark colours by Clarendon. ↩
It is probable these stories, in ridicule of Clarendon, are nowhere recorded. Cardinal Jean Balue was the minister of Louis XI of France. The reader will remember him in Sir W. Scott’s Quentin Durward. He was confined for eleven years in an iron cage invented by himself in the Château de Loches, and died soon after he regained his liberty. —B. ↩
Gripes. It was a joke against Lord Cottington that whenever he was seriously ill he declared himself a Roman Catholic, when he was well again he returned to the Protestant faith. ↩
Ram Alley, on the south side of Fleet Street, opposite Fetter Lane, a privileged place for debtors, which bore a bad reputation. It gave its name to a comedy by Lodowick Barrey, published in 1611. The place is now named Mitre Alley. ↩
The bridge which connected Ludgate Hill with Fleet Street, and was destroyed in the Great Fire, was, according to Stow, built or repaired in 1431. The new Fleet Bridge was ornamented with pineapples and the City arms. It was taken down October 14th, 1765. ↩
There is a sulphurous spring in the town of Banbury, and a chalybeate spring a short distance from the town. ↩
The dispute between Matthew Poole and the publishers of the Critici Sacri is referred to in the Calendar of State Papers:
“Case of Cornelius Bee and his partners—booksellers, proprietors of the Critici Sacri in 9 vols. folio, being editions of eminent authors, published by them in 1660 at £13 10s., though the authors would cost £50 or £60, against Matt. Poole, who, in his projected Synopsis Criticorum, states that he intends to epitomise these with other critical works, which they remonstrate against as a violation of their privileges, and the more hard on them as 1,300 copies of the Critici Sacri were burned in the fire of London, to their loss of £13,000”
Espinette is the French term for a small harpsichord, at that time called in England a spinet. It was named from a fancied resemblance of its quill plectra to spines or thorns. ↩
Tempest and Wallington were members of the Music Society referred to in note 3639. —B. ↩
The name of Abraham Bosse appears in the index to Walpole’s Catalogue of Engravers. ↩
“. The experiment of Mr. Steno was tried, according to his method, before the Society by Dr. King, and succeeded, so as the dog, upon whom it was made, was seen to be deprived of all motion below the part, where the descending artery was tied, which was upon the top of the spine by a needle passed through between the 8th and 9th ribs.”
Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. ii, p. 306
The report of the Principal Officers and Commissioners of the Navy on the Seamen’s Tickets, signed by Lord Brouncker, Commissioners Middleton, Sir Wilham Penn, and S. Pepys, which was read at the Court at Whitehall, July 17th, 1668, is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 507. ↩
This passage has been frequently quoted as referring to Pepys’s small bookplate, with his initials S. P. and two anchors and ropes entwined; but if looked at carefully with the further reference on the 27th, it will be seen that it merely describes the preparation of engravings of the four dockyards. ↩
Phineas Pett. The “Revocation of letters patent formerly granted to Phineas Pett, his Majesty’s shipwright at Chatham,” is dated September 28th, 1668 (Calendar of State Papers, 1667–68, p. 607). His career, however, was not closed, for in 1675 he was master shipwright at Woolwich, and in 1680 he was appointed Comptroller of the Stores, and knighted. He was Commissioner at Chatham from 1685 to 1689. ↩
A comedy by Sir Robert Stapylton, see note 1705. ↩
A comedy by the Hon. James Howard, see note 3646. ↩
The Old Troop; or, Monsieur Ragou, a comedy by John Lacey, printed in 1672, 4to. —B. ↩
An account of these tubulous spectacles (“An easy help for decayed sight”) is given in The Philosophical Transactions, No. 37, pp. 727–731 (Hutton’s Abridgment, vol. i, p. 266). See Diary, August 12th and 23rd, post. ↩
John Seddon was one of the four clerks of the Ticket Office, and, according to a MS. in the Pepysian Library (No. 2554), he was appointed to attend Pepys for the signing of tickets. ↩
Charles Colbert, Marquis de Croissy, brother of Jean Baptiste Colbert, the great minister. —B. ↩
Evelyn’s Diary, October 21st, 1674:
“I went to see the great loss that Lord Arlington had sustained by fire at Goring House, this night consumed to the ground, with exceeding loss of hangings, plate, rare pictures, and cabinets; hardly anything was saved of the best and most princely furniture that any subject had in England.”
This miniature of Mrs. Pepys cannot be traced. —B. ↩
The title of this book was, The Honour of the Merchant Taylors. Wherein is set forth the noble acts, valliant deeds, and heroick performances of Merchant Taylors in former ages; their honourable loves, and knightly adventures, their combating of foreign enemies and glorious successes in honour of the English nation: together with their pious acts and large benevolences, their building of public structures, especially that of Blackwell Hall, to be a marketplace for the selling of woollen clothes: Written by William Winstanley. Lond., 1668. 8vo. With the head of Sir Ralph Blackwell, with a gold chain: arms of London on the right, and of the Merchant Taylors on the left. —B. ↩
During the troubled reign of Charles I, the House of Commons gave parishioners the right of appointing lecturers at the various churches without the consent of rector or vicar, and this naturally gave rise to many quarrels. In the early period of the war between the king and the parliament, a course of sermons or lectures was projected in aid of the parliamentary cause. These lectures, which were preached by eminent Presbyterian divines at seven o’clock on the Sunday mornings, were commenced in the church of St. Mary Magdalen in Milk Street, but were soon afterwards removed to St. Giles’s, Cripplegate. After the Restoration the lectures were collected in four volumes, and published under the title of the Cripplegate Morning Exercises, vol. i in 1661; vol. ii in 1674; vol. iii in 1682; and vol. iv in 1690. In addition there were two volumes which form a supplement to the work, viz., The Morning Exercises Methodized, preached at St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields, edited by the Rev. Thomas Case in 1660, and the Exercises Against Popery, preached in Southwark, and published in 1675 (see Denton’s Records of St. Giles’s, Cripplegate, 1883, pp. 55–56). ↩
Most probably at Norwood, in the parish of Lambeth, a place long famous as the resort of gipsies. Gipsy Hill is now a place of considerable size. ↩
Major Henry Nicholls, of Kilmaiden, Waterford, who undertook to clear the Medway of wrecks. ↩
The paper tubes for his eyes. See July 31st, ante. ↩
He was probably of the family of Savage, seated at Frodsham, in Cheshire; and had been attached to the royal cause. According to Kennet (Chronicle, p. 869), he married the widow of Sir Richard Smith, one of the king’s privy council. —B. ↩
This refers to the letter on the affairs of the office which Pepys prepared, and respecting which, and the proceedings which grew out of it, so many references are made in future pages of the Diary. ↩
Sir Geofifry Palmer, Bart. He died at his house at Hampstead, May 1st, 1670. —B. ↩
William Acworth, storekeeper at Woolwich Dockyard. ↩
Poliander de Kirkhoven, Lord of Hemfleet, in Holland, married Katherine, widow of Henry, Lord Stanhope, eldest son of Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, who died vitâ patris. She was one of the four daughters and co-heirs of Thomas, Lord Wotton; and her son, Charles Henry Kirkhoven, here mentioned, was created Lord Wotton, of Wotton, in Kent, in 1650, by reason of his descent, and Earl of Bellemont, in Ireland, in 1670. He died without issue in 1682. —B. ↩
Belsyze House, in the parish of Hampstead, was for many years the residence of the Wood family, as lessees under the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, in whom the property is still vested. When Pepys visited the place, it was the chief seat of Charles Henry Kirkhoven, Lord Wotton, above mentioned. That mansion, long since pulled down, had become, in 1720, a house of public entertainment, and was much in vogue, and continued open as late as 1745. —B. The manor house was situated at the corner where Belsize Park Gardens and Belsize Grove meet. The site is now occupied by a building of residential flats. See Lysons’s Environs and Park’s History of Hampstead. ↩
A mistake of Pepys’s. Colbert de Croissy, then in England, had himself been the French Plenipotentiary at Aix-la-Chapelle. —B. ↩
By Beaumont and Fletcher, and first published in 1615. Downes mentions the revival, but not the change of name. ↩
In the Pepysian Library is a MS. (No. 2242), entitled, “Papers conteyning my address to his Royal Highness James Duke of York, Lord High Admiral of England, etc., by letter dated the 20th of August, 1668, humbly tendering him my advice touching the present State of the Office of the Navy, with his Royal Highness’s proceedings upon the same, and their result.” ↩
The set of portraits known as “King Charles’s Beauties,” formerly in Windsor Castle, but now at Hampton Court. —B. ↩
The popular name of John Fox’s Acts and Monuments, first published in 1562–63. ↩
The stones fell so fast that Pepys felt a sensation like seasickness! See September 14th, 1668, post. —B. ↩
On July 25th, 1668, a royal warrant was issued for taking down the walls of old St. Paul’s, removing the tower and choir, and clearing the ground for the foundation of the east end, with a view to the construction of a new choir for temporary use. The first stone of Wren’s building was not laid until June 21st, 1675. ↩
A copy of this letter is in the British Museum, Harl. MS. 6003. See July 24th, ante, and August 29th, post. In the Pepysian Collection are the following: An Inquisition, by his Royal Highness the Duke of York, when Lord High Admiral of England, into the Management of the Navy, 1668, with his Regulations thereon, fol. Also Mr. Pepys’s Defence of the same upon an Inquisition thereunto by Parliament, 1669, fol. —B. ↩
Peter Heylin’s Cyprianus Anglicus, or the History of the Life and Death of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, was first published in 1668. ↩
Although Holbein began working at Whitehall Palace in 1538, there is no mention of his work on the ceiling, and Wornum was puzzled by this entry. See Some Account of the Life and Works of Hans Holbein by R. N. Wornum, p. 309 (note) ↩
The picture here mentioned still adorns the Court Room at Barber Surgeons’ Hall, in Monkwell Street. It represents Henry VIII in the act of delivering the charter to the company, 1541, and contains eighteen figures. There has been much discussion over the merits of the picture and Holbein’s share in its production. As the painter died in 1543 there can be little doubt but that the picture was finished by another hand. The late Mr. Wornum, the biographer of Holbein, wrote, “There can be no question of the genuineness of the picture in its foundation,” but he was “disposed to believe that Holbein never did finish it;” whilst, from the great inferiority of the second series of heads on the left of the king, in which there is no trace of Holbein’s hand, he considered that “these must have been added later.” We are not told whether the company named any price, even if our journalist had been inclined to the speculation. A fine print from the picture was made by B. Baron in 1736. James I wrote to the company in 1618 to have the picture copied. This copy is supposed to be the one in the possession of the College of Surgeons, which was purchased in 1786 by the college at Desenfans’ sale. —B. ↩
Sophia Stuart, younger daughter of the Hon. Walter Stuart, third son of Walter, first Lord Blantyre, married to Henry Bulkeley, fourth son of Thomas, first Viscount Bulkeley, and Master of the Household to Charles II and James II (Collins’s Peerage, vol. viii, p. 16, ed. 1812, and Notes and Queries, Series 3, vol. i, p. 69). ↩
This is not the first learned horse of which we read. Shakespeare, Love’s Labour’s Lost, act i, sc. 2, mentions “the dancing horse,” and the commentators have added many particulars of Banks’s bay horse. ↩
Leviathan: Or the Matter, Forme and Power of a Commonwealth Ecclesiasticall and Civil, by Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury, first published in 1651. It was reprinted in 1680, with its old date. Hobbes’s complete works, English and Latin, were published by Sir William Molesworth in sixteen volumes 8vo between 1839 and 1845. ↩
By Abraham Wright, Fellow of St. John’s Coll., Oxford, afterwards vicar of Oakham, who died in 1690. The title is, “Five Sermons, in Five several Styles, or Waies of Preaching. First, in Bp. Andrews his way; before the late King upon the first day of Lent. Second, in Bp. Hall’s way; before the clergie at the author’s own ordination in Christ Church, Oxford. Third, in Dr. Maine’s and Mr. Cartwright’t way; before the University at St. Marie’s, Oxford. Fourth, in the Presbyterian way; before the City, at St. Paul’s, London. Fifth, in the Independent way; never preached. With an Epistle rendering an account of the author’s designe in printing these his sermons, as also of the sermons themselves. … Printed for Edward Archer, 1656.” Wood says:
“The chief end in printing these sermons, was, first, to show the difference between the University and City breeding up of preachers, and to let the people know that any one that hath been bred a scholar is able to preach any way to the capacity and content of an auditory. And, secondly, that none can do this, but they only that have had such education: yet, notwithstanding, ordinary capacities are more taken with cloak and laymen’s preaching than that of the gown.”
“The Bear at the Bridge foot,” at the Southwark end of old London Bridge, on the west side of High Street; pulled down, December, 1761, when the houses on the bridge were removed and the bridge widened. ↩
Lord Brouncker’s answer and Sir William Penn’s, both dated September 11th, and Sir John Mennes’s, dated September 13th, are contained in the MS. in the Pepysian Library previously referred to (No. 2242). Pepys’s own answer is dated September 13th. ↩
No play called The Ladies à la Mode has been traced in 1668, or in any earlier or later year. A comedy, entitled Love à la Mode, was brought out very soon after the Restoration, but it was anonymous. The preface is signed T. S., initials which are believed to stand for T. Southland. A comedy, named Damoyselles à la Mode, and printed in 1667, 8vo, is mentioned by Langbaine, p. 56, as written by Richard Flecknoe, and dedicated to the Duchess of Newcastle; but it does not appear to have ever been acted, though, in point of title and date, it comes very near what is wanted. ↩
Probably William Beeston, who had been governor of the Cockpit Theatre. ↩
The Stocks Market took its name from a pair of stocks placed near this spot. See December 10th, 1660, ante. About 1675 Sir Robert Viner purchased an equestrian statue of John Sobieski trampling down the Turk; which, when it had undergone some necessary alterations, he erected in Stocks Market as Charles II trampling on Oliver Cromwell. The Mansion House now stands on the site. About 1737 the statue was presented to Robert Viner, the lineal representative of the convivial Lord Mayor, and the market transferred to the space gained by the covering over the Fleet Ditch. This Fleet Market has, in its turn, given place to Farringdon Street. —B. ↩
Thomas Shadwell, the dramatic writer. Died 1692. ↩
She played Epicene in The Silent Woman. See Downes’s Roscius Anglicanus, 1708, p. 4. ↩
Peter Cunningham contributed to the Gentleman’s Magazine (December, 1850, p. 597) an interesting article on the letter alluded to in the text, which he supposes to have been written by Flecknoe. The title of the letter is as follows: “A Letter from a Gentleman to the Honourable Ed. Howard, Esq., occasioned by a Civiliz’d Epistle of Mr. Dryden’s before his Second Edition of his Indian Emperour. In the Savoy, printed by Thomas Newcomb, 1668.” The “Civiliz’d Epistle” was a caustic attack on Sir Robert Howard; and the Letter is signed, “Sir, your faithful and humble servant, R. F.”—i.e., Richard Flecknoe. ↩
Colonel Cary Dillon was the youngest son of Robert, second Earl of Roscommon, by his third wife, Anne, daughter of Sir William Stroud, of Stoake, in Somersetshire, and widow of Henry, Lord Folliott, of Ballyshannon. See August 19th, 1662 (vol. ii, p. 312). He held several posts under Charles II and James II, and upon the death, in 1684, of his nephew, the poet, he succeeded as fifth Earl of Roscommon. He married, not Frances Boteler, Pepys’s friend, but Katharine, daughter of John Werden, of Chester, and sister of Major-General Robert Werden Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, and Comptroller of his Household when king. ↩
Guineas took their name from the gold brought from Guinea by the African Company in 1663, who, as an encouragement to bring over gold to be coined, were permitted by their charter from Charles II to have their stamp of an elephant upon the coin. When first coined they were valued at 20s., but were worth 30s. in 1695. There were likewise five-pound pieces, like the guinea, with the inscription upon the rim. ↩
At the end of the year 1666 a Dutchman of the Prince of Orange’s party, named Kiviet, came over to England with proposals for embanking the river from the Temple to the Tower with brick, and was knighted by the king. He was introduced to Evelyn, whom he persuaded to join with him in a great undertaking for the making of bricks. On March 26th, 1667, the two went in search of brick-earth, and in September articles were drawn up between them for the purpose of proceeding in the manufacture. In April, 1668, Evelyn subscribed 50,000 bricks for the building of a college for the Royal Society, in addition to £50 given previously for the same purpose. No more information on the subject is given in Evelyn’s Diary. ↩
John Sheffield, third Earl of Mulgrave, Marquis of Normanby, 1694, and Duke of Norman by and Buckinghamshire, 1703. He was succeeded, 1721, by his only son, Edmund, with whom all the honours became extinct in 1735. ↩
Pietro Mocenigo, of whose entry into London, on the 17th September, 1668, an account is given in Evelyn’s Diary, and in Bp. Kennett’s Complete History, vol. iii, p. 271. A MS. copy of his relation of his embassy is in the British Museum. He was afterwards ambassador to Rome. —B. ↩
In Piccadilly; now, after many alterations, occupied by the Royal Academy and scientific societies. The original house was probably built by Sir John Denham for Lord Burlington, from what is stated, February 20th, 1664–65, ante. ↩
Pepys’s letter to Lord Sandwich on the subject, September 29th, 1668, was published in Lord Braybrooke’s edition of the correspondence. ↩
Elizabeth, sole daughter and heir to Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, wife of Richard Boyle, first Earl of Burlington. All the estates of these families came to the Cavendish family by the marriage of William, fourth Duke of Devonshire, with Lady Charlotte Boyle, heiress of Richard, last Earl of Burlington and Cork. The title of Burlington was revived for her son, Lord George Cavendish, and is now merged in the dukedom of Devonshire, the father of the present duke having held the earldom from 1834 to 1858, when he succeeded as seventh duke. ↩
In this part of the Diary no entry occurs for thirteen days, though there are several pages left blank. During the interval Pepys went into the country, as he subsequently mentions his having been at Saxham, in Suffolk, during the king’s visit to Lord Crofts, which took place at this time (see October 23rd, post). He might also probably have gone to Impington to fetch his wife. The pages left blank were never filled up. —B. ↩
“Her Majesty, attended by several ladies of the Court, left Whitehall for Audley End on the 6th October, where His Majesty was expected, after having divertised himself at Newmarket. The Court remained at Audley End till the 14th.”
Penn’s first work, entitled, Truth exalted, in a short but sure testimony against all those religions, faiths, and worships, that have been formed and followed, in the darkness of apostacy; and for that glorious light which is now risen, and shines forth, in the life and doctrine of the despised Quakers … by W. Penn, whom divine love constrains, in holy contempt, to trample on Egypt’s glory, not fearing the King’s wrath, having beheld the Majesty of Him who is invisible. London, 1668. —B. ↩
It was probably for this payment that the tally was obtained, the loss of which caused Pepys so much anxiety. See November 26th, 1668. ↩
See the description of this mansion in Evelyn’s Diary, September 25th, 1672. A small view of it, taken from an old map, is given in the notes to his Memoir of Mrs. Godolphin. The house was destroyed by fire, October 16th, 1733, and rebuilt by William Kent for the third Duke of Devonshire. This is the existing Devonshire House. ↩
There is reason to believe that the gallows at Tyburn stood on the site of Connaught Place, and near its southwest corner, though No. 49, Connaught Square, is said by some to be on the spot. ↩
An expression probably taking its rise from the custom of fastening people by their feet in the stocks. —B. ↩
Little Saxham, near Bury St. Edmund’s. The manor house then belonged to William, Baron Crofts; it was taken down in 1771.
“My last told your Grace I was going into the country to pass my Christmas at my Lord Crofts; and when I tell you that the Duke of Bucks and George Porter were there, you will not doubt but we passed it merrily.”
Lord Arlington to the Duke of Ormond, Oxford, January 9th, 1666—Miscellanea Aulica, p. 371
He continued to hold the office of Comptroller of the Navy until his death in 1671. ↩
This useful instrument, used for copying maps, plans, drawings, etc. either of the same size, or larger or smaller than the originals, is now named a pantograph. ↩
See, in Memoirs Relating to the Navy, 8vo, 1729, two warrants of October 18th, 1668, and October 20th, 1668, addressed by the Duke of York to Sir Heneage Finch, the Solicitor-General. The former directs him to prepare a warrant for his suspension, and the second to prepare a bill for the royal signature, constituting and appointing Sir Thomas Osborne and Sir Thomas Lyttelton to the office of Treasurer of the Navy, hitherto filled by Lord Anglesey. —B. ↩
“They also prevailed to put in Sir Thomas Osburn and Sir Thomas Littleton to be Treasurers of the Navy, without so much as speaking or making the least application to the Duke about it, though such places never use to be disposed of without the concurrence and approbation of the Lord Admiral; and tho the Duke represented to the King the hardship done him, yet his Majesty order’d him to sign the warrant for their admission; which having done he afterwards lived very well with these two gentlemen, they being men of parts and executing well their office.”
Thomas Clayton, M.D., Professor of Physic, and Anatomy Lecturer at Oxford, for which university he was returned to serve in parliament in 1660, and afterwards knighted, and made Warden of Merton College. —B. ↩
In the margin here is the following: “Look back one leaf for my mistake.” ↩
The book alluded to by Pepys is that of the Father Francisco de los Santos, first printed at Madrid in 1657, and entitled, Descripcion breve del Monasterio de S. Lorenzo el Real del Escorial unica maravilla del mundo. It is in folio, and has some plates; but Pepys might well express his disappointment, for the appearance of the volume does not answer to the magnificence of the subject. About the time when Pepys wrote, or soon after, the Escurial received some damage by fire, and was even said to be totally destroyed; and in that belief, an abstract of Father Francisco’s work was published in 1671, purporting to be “translated into English by a servant of the Earl of Sandwich.” That a great amount of damage was really done is proved by the title of the third edition of the work, printed in Madrid in 1681, which says that the Escurial was rebuilt after the fire by Charles II; and Santos, then alive, asserts the same in his dedication to that king, comparing him to the restorers of Solomon’s Temple. —B. ↩
It appears that Robert Wayth kept his office of Navy Paymaster, and that Mr. Hutcheson or Hutchinson was appointed paymaster also. ↩
There is a note in the margin respecting the passage between brackets: “All this belongs to tomorrow in the afternoon.” ↩
Robert Shafto, knighted June 26th, 1670, and made serjeant-at-law in 1674. He died May 21st, 1705, aged seventy-two, and was buried in St. Nicholas’s Church, Newcastle. He married Katharine, daughter and co-heir of Sir Thomas Widrington, of the Grange, Yorkshire. ↩
See March 30th, 1668. It was he who, in 1673, petitioned against Pepys’s return for Castle Rising. See Life, in vol. i, p. xxxi. ↩
Apparently this is Martin Clifford, Master of the Charterhouse in 1671. Little good is recorded of him, and he appears to have obtained his mastership through the influence of the Duke of Buckingham. He assisted that nobleman in the preparation of the Rehearsal, and his assistance is alluded to in the Session of Poets:
“Intelligence was brought, the Court being set, That a Play Tripartite was very near made; Where malicious Matt Clifford and spiritual Spratt Were joined with their Duke, a Peer of the Trade.”
Whetstone Park is a narrow roadway between the north side of Lincoln’s Inn Fields and the south side of Holborn, named after WiUiam Whetstone, a tobacconist and overseer of the parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields in the time of Charles I and the Commonwealth. ↩
A romance by Gauthier de Costes, Seigneur de la Calprenede. It was translated into English by Sir Charles Cotterell, whose translation passed through several editions. ↩
Among the State Papers, 1668, is a petition from Peter Massonnet to Lord Arlington:
“Is the saddest object of pity of all the king’s servants. Has attended 32 years as French sub-tutor and writing-master, served him in adversity as Clerk of the Patents and Foreign Secretary, but at the Restoration had only his sub-tutor’s salary continued, now £833 in arrear, so that he is ready to perish; will resign his patent for the arrears and some recompense.”
Stow speaks of “the Conduit of Holborn Cross, erected about 1498: again new made by Mr. William Lamb, 1557. Hence called Lamb’s Conduit.” —B. ↩
Pepys’s cousin by marriage, Thomas Stradwick. See September 13th, 1660. Bunyan died in 1688, at the house of his friend, Mr. Stradwick, a grocer, at the sign of the Star, on Snow Hill. ↩
Dated, Whitehall, November 25th, 1668. See a copy of it in Harl. MS. 6003. ↩
Sir William Penn’s address to the Duke of York in reply to the Duke of York’s letter is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 514. In this his absences from the office are accounted for or explained by reason of his ill-health. ↩
Sir William Warren had several contracts with the Navy Commissioners for timber. In December, 1668, he had a contract for elm timber. ↩
Though our journalist prided himself not a little upon becoming possessed of a carriage, the acquisition was regarded with envy and jealousy by his enemies, as will appear by the following extract from the scurrilous pamphlet, A Hue and Cry after P. and H. and Plain Truth (or a Private Discourse between P. and H.), in which Pepys and Hewer are severely handled: “There is one thing more you must be mightily sorry for with all speed. Your presumption in your coach, in which you daily ride, as if you had been son and heir to the great Emperor Neptune, or as if you had been infallibly to have succeeded him in his government of the Ocean, all which was presumption in the highest degree. First, you had upon the fore part of your chariot, tempestuous waves and wrecks of ships; on your left hand, forts and great guns, and ships a-fighting; on your right hand was a fair harbour and galleys riding, with their flags and pennants spread, kindly saluting each other, just like P[epys] and H[ewer]. Behind it were high curled waves and ships a-sinking, and here and there an appearance of some bits of land.” ↩
John Lanyon, agent of the Navy Commissioners at Plymouth. The cause of complaint appears to have been connected with his contract for Tangier. In 1668 a charge was made against Lanyon and Thomas Yeabsley that they had defrauded the king in the freighting of the ship Tiger (Calendar of State Papers, 1668–69, p. 138). ↩
There were sixty fellows present at this meeting of the Royal Society when the new Council was elected. The annual meeting is still held on St. Andrew’s day. ↩
The cross of St. Andrew, like that of St. Patrick, is a saltire. The two, combined with the red cross of St. George, form the Union flag. ↩
J. Clerke, writing to the Navy Commissioners, November 21st, 1668, “desires that a valuation may be made of the goods taken by Mr. Acworth out of the stores, with names of the parties who will attest it, and that all the witnesses may be ready by Wednesday sevennight” (Calendar of State Papers, 1668–69, p. 71). This may be Clerke, the solicitor, referred to above. ↩
This tragedy, taken from the first book of Maccabees, was performed with great success. It was first published in 1669, and a MS. copy is preserved in the Bodleian Library (MS. Rawl. Poet. 39). ↩
Better known as Bloomsbury Market; but since swallowed up in the New Oxford Street improvements. ↩
This seems to refer to the first form of the Hon. Robert Boyle’s hydrometer, which he described in a paper in the Philosophical Transactions for June, 1675, under the title of a “New Essay instrument.” In this paper the author refers to a glass instrument exhibited many years before by himself, “consisting of a bubble furnished with a long and slender stem, which was to be put into several liquors to compare and estimate their specific gravity.” Boyle describes this glass bubble in a paper in Philosophical Transactions, vol. iv, No. 50, p. 1001, 1669, entitled, The Weights of Water in Water with Ordinary Balances and Weights. ↩
Luis de Benavides Carillo y Toledo, Marques de Caracena, one of the most eminent of the Spanish generals. He had been commander of the Spanish cavalry in Flanders; and he was afterwards Governor of Milan, and employed in the wars of Italy. He died in 1668. —B. ↩
Henri, Vicomte de Turenne, the celebrated general. In 1666, after the death of his wife, Charlotte, heiress of the Duc de la Force, who like himself had been a Huguenot, and whose influence had retained him in that communion, Turenne professed himself a Roman Catholic. —B. ↩
This reminds us of the famous reply, Laissez nous faire, made to Colbert by the French merchants, whose interests he thought to promote by laws and regulations. —B. ↩
This was probably the woman described in Wonderful Characters as Barbara Urslerin, the hairy-faced woman. She was born at Augsburg in 1629, which gives us exactly the age Pepys mentions. It is recorded that she was exhibited in 1668 in Ratcliff Highway. There are two portraits of her—one by Isaac Brunn, taken in 1653, and another by Gaywood, about 1658. ↩
As his partner in the contract for victualling the navy. ↩
The Life of Julius Caesar, with an Account of His Medals by Clement Edmonds, fol., London, 1655. ↩
Musicæ Compendium. By Réné Des Cartes, Amsterdam, 1617; rendered into English, London, 1653, 4to. The translator, whose name did not appear on the title, was William, Viscount Brouncker, Pepys’s colleague, who proved his knowledge of music by the performance. ↩
A tragicomedy by Fletcher, first published in 1647 at the time, though, when revived at Drury Lane in 1743, it met with little success. ↩
The celebrated John de Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland, who, a few years afterwards, was massacred, with his brother Cornelius, by the Dutch mob, enraged at their opposition to the elevation of William of Orange to the Stadtholdership, when the States were overrun by the French army, and the Dutch fleets beaten at sea by the English. The murder of the De Witts forms one of the main incidents of Alexandre Dumas’s Black Tulip. ↩
Henry Sheres accompanied Lord Sandwich in his embassy to Spain, and returned to England in September, 1667, bearing letters from the ambassador (see September 8th, 22nd, 27th). He was an officer in the Ordnance, and served under Lord Dartmouth at the demolition of the Mole at Tangier in 1683. He was knighted about 1684. He translated Polybius (2 vols. 8vo, 1693), and also some of the Dialogues of Lucian, included in the translation published in 1711 (3 vols. 8vo). Pepys bequeathed him a ring, and he died about 1713. In June of that year the sale of the library of Sir Henry Sheers, deceased, was advertised (Guardian, No. 82). ↩
Evelyn saw her, January 29th, 1668–69. She was born in the Low Countries, and stood, at the age of twenty-one, according to Evelyn, six feet ten inches high; yet Pepys, February 8th, 1668–69, makes her height six feet five inches. —B. ↩
The marriage licence of Roger Pepys, of Impington, widower, aged about forty-eight, and Easter Dickinson, of St. Paul, Covent Garden, widow, aged about forty, is dated February 2nd, 1668–69 (Chester’s London Marriage Licences, ed. Foster, 1887, col. 1044). ↩
A tragicomedy by Beaumont and Fletcher; published in 1647, and reprinted in 1669, “as it is acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesty’s servants. With the alterations and new additional scenes.” —B. ↩
“. Sir George Downing to the Navy Commissioners. The Treasury Commissioners have appointed the first Friday after New Year’s Day to consider the accounts of the Leopard, Convertine, etc., depending between his Majesty and the East India Company, and desire them to come prepared on his Majesty’s behalf.”
Arabella Churchill, sister to John, Duke of Marlborough, and one of the maids of honour to the Duchess of York. James, Duke of Berwick, and three other children, were the fruits of this intrigue. From the Duke of Berwick descend the Dukes of Fitzjames in France. She married subsequently Colonel Godfrey, Comptroller of the Household, and died 1730, aged eighty-two. —B. ↩
The following cast of parts in The Alchymist, as acted by the King’s Company, and given by Downes in his Roscius Anglicanus, furnishes a clue to the actress described here and in a former passage, December 27th, 1666, as “Doll Common”:
Subtle
Mr. Clun
Face
Major Mohun
Sir E. Mammon
Mr. Cartwright
Surly
Mr. Burt
Ananias
Mr. Lacy
Wholesome
Mr. Bateman
Doll Common
Mrs. Corey
Dame Plyant
Mrs. Rutter
The identity, however, is placed beyond doubt by a reference to Cataline’s Conspiracy, where we find Mrs. Corey acting the part of Sempronia, in which “Doll Common,” as Pepys styles her, gave offence by imitating Lady Harvey, and consequently was sent to prison. We may add that Mrs. Corey’s name stands first in the list of female performers in the King’s Company under Killigrew. See Roscius Anglicanus, 1708. —B. ↩
Edward Montagu, Earl of Manchester. Lady Harvey was daughter of Edward, second Lord Montagu of Boughton. She married Sir Daniel Harvey. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Cutler (by his second wife), married to Sir William Portman, K.B., who was the third and last baronet of his family. Pepys could have known neither of his former wives. —B. ↩
Clarendon, whom Pepys mentions by his former office. ↩
Henry, second son of Arthur, first Baron Capel of Hadham, and himself elevated to the peerage in 1692 by the title of Lord Capel of Tewkesbury, for which town he had served in parliament. He had been created K.B. at the coronation of Charles II, and was a leading member of the House of Commons; and in 1679 appointed First Commissioner of the Admiralty. At the time of his death, at Dublin Castle, May 30th, 1696, he was Lord Deputy of Ireland. He left no issue. —B. ↩
Which title had been revived for the Capel family in 1661, Arthur, second Baron Capel, being created Earl of Essex. ↩
The Horace of P. Corneille, translated by Catherine Phillips, the fifth act being added by Sir John Denham. It was presented at Court by persons of quality, the prologue being spoken by the Duke of Monmouth. See Evelyn’s Diary, under February 5th, 1668–69. Another translation by Charles Cotton was published in 1671. ↩
An account of the Merchants Strangers, from their settlement in the reign of Richard III to that of Charles II, is given in Seymour’s Survey of London, vol. ii, pp. 473–82. —B. ↩
Edward Gold, a native of Devonshire, living at Highgate, who married Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Gower, also of that place. Their names occur amongst those of the governors of Sir Roger Cholmley’s Grammar School in Highgate. —B. ↩
Henry Bankers, born at the Hague, an engraver and painter, employed by Charles II to paint views of his seaports and palaces. He followed his profession for some years in London; but, being a Roman Catholic, he left England in the time of the Popish Plot, and died soon afterwards at Amsterdam. ↩
Essex House, where Robert Devereux, third earl of that name, died in 1646, when Pepys was fourteen years old, stood on the site of Essex Street and Devereux Court, formerly the Outer Temple. It had belonged, in the reign of Elizabeth, to the Earl of Leicester, who left it to the second Earl of Essex, father of the Parliamentary-General here mentioned. ↩
Robert Nanteuil, the celebrated French engraver, a native of Rheims, who was patronized by Evelyn when he was in Paris. He died at Paris in 1678 at the age of forty-eight. ↩
Les Résolutions Politiques, ou Maximes d’Etat, par Jean de Marnix, Baron de Potes: Bruxelles, 1612, 4to. There were two later editions of this work printed at Rouen. ↩
Dorothy, daughter of Sir John Weld, of Arnolds, in Edmonton, Middlesex. She died December, 1707. —B. ↩
Angliæ Notitia, or the Present State of England; together with Reflections upon the Ancient State thereof, 1668, etc., by Edward Chamberlayne, LL.D. ↩
A. Wood, Fasti, vol. iv, p. 163 (Bliss), mentions that John Waterhouse, of Trinity College, Cambridge, was created M.D., by virtue of letters from Oliver Cromwell, in 1650, and that he went over to Ireland as physician to the army, where he discharged his duties with ability and diligence. —B. ↩
Robert Streater, appointed Serjeant-Painter at the Restoration. The son of a painter, he was born in Covent Garden in 1624, and he lived for a time in Long Acre. Died 1680, soon after being operated upon for the stone. Charles II had so much kindness for his painter that he sent to Paris for a surgeon to perform the operation. ↩
The Heiress does not appear in the list of the Duke of Newcastle’s works, nor has any play of that name and date been traced. At the same time, it is to be observed that “Heir” was formerly used for “Heiress;” and such is the case in May’s play of The Heir, in vol. viii of the last edition of Dodsley’s Old Plays. —B. ↩
The story about the caning of Kynaston has been preserved by Oldys, and copied by Malone, who tells us that Kynaston was vain of his personal resemblance to Sir C. Sedley, and dressed exactly like him. Sedley, to revenge this insult, hired a bravo to chastise him in St. James’s Park, under the pretext that he mistook him for the baronet. According to Pepys, it would seem that the imitation was made in the play of The Heiress, which is very likely; and perhaps for this he got another beating, or it might be the same, and that in which the story, the scene of which is laid in the park, originated. It is worth remarking, on the authority of Mr. Genest, the compiler of Some Account of the English Stage from 1660 to 1830, that Sir C. Sedley expressly introduced the incident of the beating of one man for another, owing to similarity of dress and appearance, into his comedy of The Mulberry Garden, which seems to have been first acted May 18th, 1668, some time before the date Pepys assigns to the caning of Kynaston, February 1st, 1668–69. —B. ↩
See note 4277 on the parallelogram or pantograph. The protractor is a surveying instrument for laying down and measuring angles on paper. It is of various forms, semicircular, rectangular, or circular. ↩
Probably Boynton. Sir Matthew Boynton, of Barmston, in Yorkshire, was created a baronet in 1618. He had seven sons, one of whom, Colonel Boynton, having embraced, like his father, the cause of the Parliament, took Sir John Hotham prisoner at York. Sir Matthew died in 1646. His eldest son became Sir Francis Boynton; the second, Matthew, was slain at Wigan, before the advance of Charles II to Worcester: he left two daughters, one of whom, Katharine, the maid of honour, who figures in Grammont, married Richard Talbot, afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel; the other married Wentworth, Earl of Roscommon. The remaining five sons, Marmaduke, John, Gustavus, Cornelius, Charles, all died unmarried. One of the sons must have been the Colonel Boynton who took Sir John Hotham prisoner, and in all probability he is the same who is here mentioned in connection with Doll Stacey. Pepys only supposes he had married her. —B. ↩
Captain John Cox was appointed Commissioner at Chatham on the 29th March, 1669, and he held the office until 1672, when he was killed on board the Prince at the battle of Southwold Bay. He was Sir John Cox at the time of his death. He had previously held the office of Master Attendant at Deptford. ↩
John Tippets (afterwards Sir John) was appointed Extra Commissioner of the Navy in 1667, and appointed to Portsmouth in 1668. He was Surveyor of the Navy from 1672 to 1685, and from 1688 to 1692. ↩
The word “resent” was formerly used to express the taking of a thing well or ill. Barrow wrote, “How much more should we resent such a testimony of God’s favour (than that of an earthly prince).” ↩
Barbara Pepys, daughter of Roger Pepys, by his second wife (Barbara Bacon), born at Impington, 1649. She married Thomas Gall, D.D., Dean of York, and died in 1689. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of the same parents, born at Impington, 1651; married Charles Longe, B.D., rector of Risby, co. Suffolk, and died 1716. ↩
Entitled, “The Sandy Foundation Shaken; or those … doctrines of one God subsisting in three distinct and separate persons; the impossibility of God’s pardoning sinners without a plenary satisfaction, the justification of impure persons by an imputative righteousness, refuted from the authority of Scripture testimonies and right reason, etc. London, 1668.” It caused him to be imprisoned in the Tower. “Aug. 4, 1669. Young Penn who wrote the blasphemous book is delivered to his father to be transported” (“Letter to Sir John Birkenhead, quoted by Bishop Kennett in his MS. Collections, vol. lxxxix, p. 477). ↩
Algernon Percy, tenth Earl of Northumberland, Lord High Admiral 1637 to 1642. ↩
Pepys was perhaps induced to make this purchase for his cousin, in accordance with the taste of the Duke of York, who, in allusion to Lady Chesterfield’s wearing green stockings, remarked, says Hamilton: “qu’il n’y avoit point de saint pour une jambe sans bas verds” (Mémoires de Grammont). —B. ↩
Sir Samuel Tuke, of Cressing Temple, Essex, Bart., was a colonel in Charles I’s army, and cousin to John Evelyn. He married Mary Sheldon, one of Queen Katherine’s dressers, and died at Somerset House, January 26th, 1673. We have seen that he was the translator of The Adventures of Five Hours. He was a Roman Catholic; and there is a life of him in Dodd’s Church History (vol. iii, p. 251). ↩
We may suppose that pews were by no means common at this time within consecrated walls, from the word being applied indifferently by Pepys to a box in a place of amusement, and two days afterwards to a seat at church. It would appear, from other authorities, that between 1646 and 1660 scarcely any pews had been erected; and Sir C. Wren is known to have objected to their introduction into his London churches. —B. ↩
Rochester was not yet twenty-one years old, whilst Charles was thirty-eight. —B. ↩
John, second Lord Robartes (Earl of Radnor, 1679), was appointed Lord Lieutenant May 3rd, 1669. ↩
“Buried, Mrs. Elizabeth, wife of Colonel Thomas Middleton.”
Register of St. Olave’s, Hart Street
According to Burke, Jane, daughter of Sir Robert Needham, of Lambeth, married Charles, brother of Sir Thomas Middleton, Bart. Her sister Eleanor was mistress to the Duke of Monmouth. —B. ↩
Then in Bishopsgate Without, on the north side of what was afterwards Liverpool Street. ↩
A comedy by James Shirley, first published in 1630. ↩
On the south side of Fleet Street, opposite St. Dunstan’s Church. ↩
Pepys’s attachment to the fair sex extended even to a dead queen. The record of this royal salute on his natal day is very characteristic. The story told him in Westminster Abbey appears to have been correct; for Neale informs us (History of Westminster Abbey, vol. ii, p. 88) that near the south side of Henry V’s tomb there was formerly a wooden chest, or coffin, wherein part of the skeleton and parched body of Katherine de Valois, his queen (from the waist upwards), was to be seen. She was interred in January, 1457, in the Chapel of Our Lady, at the east end of this church; but when that building was pulled down by her grandson, Henry VII, her coffin was found to be decayed, and her body was taken up, and placed in a chest, near her first husband’s tomb. “There,” says Dart, “it hath ever since continued to be seen, the bones being firmly united, and thinly clothed with flesh, like scrapings of tanned leather.” This awful spectacle of frail mortality was at length removed from the public gaze into St. Nicholas’s Chapel, and finally deposited under the monument of Sir George Villiers, when the vault was made for the remains of Elizabeth Percy, Duchess of Northumberland, in December, 1776. —B. ↩
Glass House Alley, Whitefriars and Blackfriars, marked the site for some years. The Whitefriars Glass Works of Messrs. Powell and Sons are on the old site, now Temple Street. ↩
A tragicomedy, altered by Thomas Shadwell from a comedy written by John Fountain, called The Rewards of Virtue, published in 1661. The Royal Shepherdess was published in 1669. ↩
An allusion to the popular ballad, “O Brave Arthur of Bradley,” which is referred to by Ben Jonson, Dekker, and other Elizabethan dramatists. There are two other ballads of “Arthur-a Bradley” of a later date. See Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. ii, pp. 539–40, 604. ↩
Henry Savile was a younger son of Sir William Savile, Bart., of Thornhill, in Yorkshire, by Anne, one of the daughters of Thomas, first Lord Coventry, and sister to Sir William Coventry. He became Vice-Chamberlain to Charles II, and served in parliament for Newark; and died s.p. —B. ↩
The only printed notice of this dispute occurs in Pearce’s History of the Inns of Court and Chancery, 8vo, 1848, p. 236: “The Lord Mayor (Sir W. Turner) complained to the king, and on the 7th April, 1669, the case was heard before his Majesty in council. The ringleaders, Mr. Hodges, Mr. Wynn, and Mr. Monday, appeared at the Board, attended by counsel, who were heard on their behalf. Upon consideration, it appearing to the king that the matter very much depended upon the right and privilege of bearing up the Lord Mayor’s sword within the Temple, which, by order of Council on the 24th March, in the same year, had been left to be decided by due course of law, his Majesty thought fit to suspend the declaration of his pleasure thereupon, until the said right and privilege should be determined at law.” Mr. Tyrrel, the City Remembrancer, has obligingly communicated the only two entries relating to the business existing in the Corporation Records: the first is an order, dated March 23rd, 1668, for the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, etc., to attend the council on the following day; and the other directs the Chamberlain to pay the Town Clerk £23 14s. 6d., by him disbursed for counsel about the business of the Temple, etc. It would appear the question remains unsettled to this day. —B. ↩
While Buckingham was busy with his Rehearsal he threatened to bring Sir William Coventry into a play at the King’s House, but Coventry challenged the duke for the intended insult, and the intention was frustrated. ↩
Charles II wrote to his sister (Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans), on March 7th, 1669: “I am not sorry that Sir Will. Coventry has given me this good occasion by sending my Lord of Buckingham a challenge to turne him out of the Councill. I do intend to turn him also out of the Treasury. The truth of it is, he has been a troublesome man in both places and I am well rid of him” (Julia Cartwright’s Madame, 1894, p. 283). ↩
The Brick Tower stands on the northern wall, a little to the west of Martin tower, with which it communicates by a secret passage. It was the residence of the Master of the Ordnance, and Raleigh was lodged here for a time. ↩
See it marked in the Plan of Deptford, in Evelyn’s Diary, vol. i, p. 328, 4to edit., 1819. —B. ↩
Lady Henrietta Boyle, fifth daughter to the Earl of Burlington, married Laurence Hyde (afterwards created Earl of Rochester) in 1665. ↩
Anne Ogle, daughter of Thomas Ogle, of Pinchbeck, in Lincolnshire. She was afterwards the first wife of Craven Howard (son of Mrs. Howard), brother of her fellow maid of honour (see Evelyn’s Diary, June 15th, 1675). Her only child, Anne, died unmarried. —B. ↩
Margaret Blagge, or Blague, daughter of Colonel Blague, and afterwards wife of Sidney Godolphin. Her life, written by Evelyn, was first published by Bishop Wilberforce in 1847. ↩
Dorothy, the elder daughter of Mrs. Howard. She afterwards married Colonel James Graham, of Levens, Keeper of the Privy Purse of the Duke of York. Their daughter, Katharine Graham, married her cousin, Henry Bowes Howard, fourth Earl of Berkshire, and eleventh Earl of Suffolk. —B. ↩
The mother of the maids in the Court of Queen Katharine was Bridget, Lady Sanderson, daughter of Sir Edward Tyrrell, Knt., and wife of Sir William Sanderson, Gentleman of the Privy Chamber. It is possible, however, that some one filled the like office in the household of the Duchess of York. —B. ↩
Elizabeth, daughter of Lowthiel, Lord Dundas, wife of William Howard, fourth son of the first Earl of Berkshire. Her son, Craven Howard, married, first, Anne Ogle, mentioned above; and, secondly, Mary, daughter of George Bower, of Elford, in Staffordshire, by whom he had Henry Bowes Howard, who married Katharine Graham. It was by means of Mrs. Howard, who, as housekeeper to the Duke of York, resided in the Treasurer’s house at Deptford, that Evelyn, who lived at Sayes Court, adjoining the Royal Yard, first became acquainted with Mrs. Godolphin, and it is to Lady Sylvius, the younger daughter of Mrs. Howard, that he addresses her Life. —B. ↩
See February 3rd, 1665; June 13th, 1666; August 27th and September 1st, 1667. Louis de Duras, Marquis of Blanquefort, succeeded in 1677 to the titles and estates of his father-in-law, Sir George Sondes, who, in April, 1676, was created Earl of Feversham and Viscount Sondes. As Earl of Feversham Blanquefort became of great importance during the short reign of James II. He died April 19th, 1709, s.p. ↩
Sir Richard Powle, of Shottesbrooke, Berks, Master of the Horse to the Duchess of York. —B. ↩
Edward Villiers, Master of the Robes and Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York. He was afterwards knighted, and was the direct ancestor of the Earls of Jersey. —B. ↩
The second baronet of his family, and father of the Bishop of Winchester, of the same names. —B. ↩
A writer in the Gentleman’s Magazine, February, 1738, says “At the Restoration succeeded Love games, as I love my Love with an A; a Flower and a Lady, and I am a lusty wooer” (Brand’s Popular Antiquities, ed. Hazlitt, 1870, vol. ii, p. 288). ↩
A zealous supporter of Charles I during the Civil War. Made a Justice of the King’s Bench, 1665. He was a terror to highwaymen, and sentenced Claude Duval, preventing him from receiving a pardon. He died 1672. ↩
Sir John Morton, of Milborn St. Andrew, Dorset, the second baronet of his family, then serving as burgess for Poole, and afterwards for Melcombe Regis. He died in 1698, aged seventy-one. —B. ↩
See Diary, July 4th, 1668, where Sir W. Coventry’s round table is described. ↩
It is painful to find a person of Sir William Coventry’s rank and station entertaining so cowardly a mode of revenging himself; and it is very remarkable that, in little more than a year afterwards, his own nephew, Sir John Coventry, was maimed in the very same way, his nose having been slit to the bone by a party of assassins hired for the purpose. See note 3538. —B. ↩
Charles Porter “was the son of a prebend[ary] in Norwich, and a ’prentice boy in the city in the rebellious times. When the committee house was blown up, he was very active in that rising, and after the soldiers came and dispersed the rout, he, as a rat among joint stools, shifted to and fro among the shambles, and had forty pistols shot at him by the troopers that rode after him to kill him [24th April, 1648]. In that distress he had the presence of mind to catch up a little child that, during the rout, was frighted, and stood crying in the streets, and, unobserved by the troopers, ran away with it. The people opened a way for him, saying, ‘Make room for the poor child.’ Thus he got off, and while search was made for him in the marketplace, got into the Yarmouth ferry, and at Yarmouth took ship and went to Holland. … In Holland he trailed a pike, and was in several actions as a common soldier. At length he kept a cavalier eating-house; but, his customers being needy, he soon broke, and came for England, and being a genteel youth, was taken in among the chancery clerks, and got to be under a master. … His industry was great; and he had an acquired dexterity and skill in the forms of the court; and although he was a bon companion, and followed much the bottle, yet he made such dispatches as satisfied his clients, especially the clerks, who knew where to find him. His person was florid, and speech prompt and articulate. But his vices, in the way of women and the bottle, were so ungoverned, as brought him to a morsel. … When the Lord Keeper North had the Seal, who from an early acquaintance had a kindness for him which was well known, and also that he was well heard, as they call it, business flowed in to him very fast, and yet he could scarce keep himself at liberty to follow his business. … At the Revolution, when his interest fell from, and his debts began to fall upon him, he was at his wits’ end. … His character for fidelity, loyalty, and facetious conversation was without exception”—Roger North’s Lives of the Norths (Lord Keeper Guilford), ed. Jessopp, vol. i, pp. 381–2. He was originally made Lord Chancellor of Ireland in the reign of James II, during the viceroyalty of Lord Clarendon, 1686, when he was knighted. “He was,” says Burnet, “a man of ready wit, and being poor was thought a person fit to be made a tool of. When Clarendon was recalled, Porter was also displaced, and Fitton was made chancellor, a man who knew no other law than the king’s pleasure” (Own Time). Sir Charles Porter was again made Lord Chancellor of Ireland in 1690, and in this same year he acted as one of the Lords Justices. This note of Lord Braybrooke’s is retained and added to, but the reference may after all be to another Charles Porter. ↩
Kingsgate Street, High Holborn, called after the gate placed at the end of the street. In the reign of James I it was a mere country lane, with a barred gate at its entrance, which, from that monarch’s usually passing through it, on his way to Theobalds, received the denomination of King’s Gate. Theobald’s Road (formerly King’s Road), to which the street leads, takes its name from the same cause. ↩
The Sugar Loaf and Green Lettice was a tavern in Fleet Street, the site of which is now incorporated with Child’s Bank. Mr. F. G. Hilton Price writes:
“Of the Sugar Loaf and Green Lettice we cannot glean any history; it was situated immediately in the rear of the Marygold, and the kitchen of the present bank is a part of those premises, and puts one greatly in mind of what the dining room at Dick’s Coffeehouse used to be when kept by Mr. Quelch, and closely resembles the interior of the old Rainbow tavern. But both these latter coffeehouses were established after the Marygold ceased to exist as a tavern.”
Temple Bar, or Some Account of “ye Marygold”, 1875, p. 8
The difficulty of deciding as to the parentage of Betty Turner is very great. In some places it appears as if she were the daughter of Mrs. Turner, the wife of Mr. Turner of the Navy Office, but here and on the 13th instant there is a distinct reference to Pepys’s cousin, Mrs. Jane Turner, “and her two daughters,” although it is generally stated that Theophila was the only daughter of Serjeant John and Mrs. Jane Turner. Betty must, therefore, have been a younger sister of Theophila; but if so the received information respecting Serjeant Turner’s children is very incorrect, for, according to Pepys, Betty had two brothers not elsewhere mentioned. ↩
Henry, the ninth earl, called the Wizard Earl, was confined in the Tower from 1605 to 1621, and the walk was probably constructed for his use during that long imprisonment. He hired the Brick tower from Lord Carew, Master of the Ordnance, as an occasional residence for his son Algernon. ↩
The Crown Office in the Temple gave its name to Crown Office Row, but the Crown Office now forms a part of the central office of the Supreme Court of Judicature at the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand. Previously it was situated in King’s Bench Walk. ↩
George Gififord, A.M., appointed in 1661 rector of St. Dunstan’s in the East. Died 1686. —Newcourt’s Repertorium Ecclesiasticum. —B. ↩
The old palace at Greenwich had just been pulled down, and a new building commenced by Charles II, only one wing of which was completed, at the expense of £36,000, under the auspices of Webb, Inigo Jones’s kinsman and executor. In 1694 the unfinished edifice was granted by William and Mary to trustees for the use and service of a Naval Hospital; and it has been repeatedly enlarged and improved till it has arrived at its present splendour. —B. ↩
The report could hardly have been believed, considering the bishop’s connection with Oliver Cromwell. —B. ↩
A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, performed at Court in 1642, and published in the folio edition of their plays, 1647. Genest does not mention the revival of the play before 1682. ↩
Sir John Kempthorne, Commissioner of the Navy at Portsmouth in 1675, and at Chatham in 1679. On the commencement of the second Dutch war, being then a rear-admiral of the blue, he hoisted his flag on board the St. Andrew. For his conspicuous conduct at the battle of Southwold Bay he was made vice-admiral. He died in 1679. ↩
Sir Laurence Van Heemskirk was captain of the Nonsuch. In a letter from B. Johnson to Williamson, dated “Portsmouth Yard, March 14,” we read, “The new Nonsuch is at Spithead, having had some alterations made to advance her sailing. The captain and officers are in London about a difference between him and his lieutenant” (Calendar of State Papers, 1668–69, p. 233). ↩
John Holland, Paymaster to the Treasurer of the Navy, mentioned before. A copy of this work, which has never been printed, is amongst Sir Hans Sloane’s MSS., and another, in connection with papers relative to the Navy, formerly belonging to Sir George Duckett, both in the British Museum. In the Pepysian Collection, No. 113, are Two Discourses of Mr. Holland’s touching the Government of the Navy; one under the Earl of Northumberland in 1638, probably perused by Pepys, February 14th, ante, and April 18th, post; the other during the Rebellion, 1659, 2 vols., fol. —B. ↩
Lambeth. Stangate extends from the west end of Westminster Bridge to Lambeth Marsh. ↩
Thomas Holden to Williamson, dated “Falmouth, March 15”:
“The Morning Star has come in, and reports that she was met off Cadiz by an Algiers man-of-war of 30 guns well manned, who came on board and demanded a Moorish boy that they had; having found him they carried him to their own ship, and by beating upon the soles of his feet, and other torments, made him confess to much money on board the Star, which they came and took, amounting to £8,000 to £10,000”
Although marriages during Lent have always been considered unseemly, it is a vulgar error to suppose that a licence is required to solemnize them at that season. See Johnson’s Clergyman’s Vade-Mecum, vol. i, p. 167. —B. ↩
Salisbury House, Strand, built by Sir Robert Cecil, the first Earl of Salisbury. Queen Elizabeth was present at the housewarming on December 6th, 1602. It was pulled down in 1695, and Cecil Street built on the site. Ivy Bridge Lane, to the west of the old mansion, still exists, by the side of the new “Hotel Cecil” which has been built on the site of Cecil and Salisbury Streets. ↩
“Petition of Joseph Brown, caulker to the Navy Commissioners (March 25, 1669), for some recompense for quenching the fire from burning the Defiance’s head, on which service he burnt a Sunday coat and hat.” Calendar of State Papers, 1668–69, p. 249. ↩
The Friary, in Aylesford parish, since the property of the Earls of Aylesford, whose ancestor, Heneage Finch, married the eldest daughter and co-heir of Sir John Bankes. —B. ↩
Kits-Cotty House, a cromlech in Aylesford parish, Kent, on a hillside adjacent to the river Medway, three and a half miles N. by W. of Maidstone. It consists of three upright stones and an overlying one, and forms a small chamber open in front. It is supposed to have been the centre of a group of monuments indicating the burial-place of the Belgian settlers in this part of Britain. Other stones of a similar character exist in the neighbourhood. ↩
John Manley, M.P. for Bridport; he married Margaret, daughter of the unfortunate Isaak Dorislaus. —B. ↩
The Duke of York’s order to Sir William Penn, authorizing him to call a court-martial to inquire concerning the loss of the Defiance, was dated December 29th, 1668. The list of those summoned to form the court-martial are as follows: Sir George Ascue, Sir Jeremy Smith, Sir Robert Holmes, Sir Joseph Jordan, Sir John Harman, Thomas Middleton, Esq., Samuel Pepys, Esq., Rear-Admiral Kempthorne, Capt. John Cox, Sir John Chicheley, Capt. John Hubbard, Capt. Willough. Hannam, Capt. William Poole, Capt. John Narbrough, Capt. William Coleman, Capt. Edw. Cotterell, Capt. Thomas Guy, Capt. Rich. Goodlad, Capt. Ben. Young, Capt. Rich. Beach, Capt. Rich. Haddock, Capt. Charles Wylde, Capt. Peter Bowen, Capt. Francis Wilsshaw, Capt. Rob. Sheppard, Capt. Rob. Worden. The order is printed in Penn’s Memorials of Sir W. Penn, vol. ii, p. 520. ↩
It was eleven years, as the operation was performed on March 26th, 1658. ↩
Dr. Ball was preacher at St. Mary Woolchurch towards the latter end of the Commonwealth, and, according to Newcourt, was much followed by the loyal party. He was made Master of the Temple in 1665. ↩
Cosmo de’ Medici, who succeeded his father Ferdinand in the grand-dukedom of Tuscany in 1670. Whilst he was in England in 1669 the prince caused a number of views of places and of scenery to be executed for him. Thirty-nine of these have been engraved on a reduced scale for Mawman’s quarto volume of Cosmo’s Travels, published in 1821, but those prints being very unsatisfactory, the facsimile copies of the original drawings now at Florence were purchased by the Right Hon. Thomas Grenville, and form part of the splendid library which he bequeathed in 1846 to the British Museum. Readers will remember the use which Lord Macaulay has made of them, that “scarce a hedgerow is to be seen, and numerous tracts, now rich with cultivation, appear as bare as Salisbury Plain.” Sir John Reresby writes:
“April, 1669. The Prince of Tuscany came to London with a retinue and equipage suitable to his quality. The king entertained him magnificently; after some time he kept house at his own charge, where he had all the portable varieties for food and drink Italy could afford. I dined twice with him; he was very kind to me, as he was to all those that had travelled in Italy and knew the language.”
Robert Eden, of West Auckland, Durham, which county he represented in padiament for many years, married the lady here alluded to, Margaret, daughter and heir of John Lambton. He is the direct ancestor of the Lords Auckland. He was created a baronet November 13th, 1672, and died in 1720, his wife surviving till 1730. —B. ↩
Simon Verelst, a Dutch flower-painter, who practised his art with much success in England. His success turned his head, and he called himself the god of flowers. He died at a great age in Suffolk Street about 1710. ↩
Mr. John Biddulph Martin, in his interesting work on “The Grasshopper in Lombard Street,” 1892, refers to Alderman Backwell’s building operations. He writes (p. 185): “Shortly previous to the Great Fire, Backwell, whose shop was at the Unicorn in Lombard Street, next door to the Grasshopper, conceived the idea of developing the considerable block of property over which he had acquired an interest by opening passages through it from Lombard Street to Cornhill.” Again (p. 186): “Backwell possibly took advantage of the catastrophe of the fire to enlarge his views,” and then Mr. Martin quotes the passage in the text. Mr. Martin writes: “Alderman Backwell figures largely in the City history of his time, and was certainly eminent among the goldsmiths of the Restoration; but it seems that the ‘little town’ whose erection he contemplated was built on land in which he had a leasehold interest only. The Great Fire of London destroyed not only the City itself, but also most of its records. It has opposed an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of research into local history previous to its occurrence.” ↩
Clothworkers’ Hall is situated near the northeast end of Mincing Lane, next to Fenchurch Street. Sir John Robinson, when Lord Mayor in 1663, entertained the king and queen, the queen dowager, and the Duke and Duchess of York in the hall. The original hall was destroyed in the Great Fire, but rebuilt shortly afterwards. Sir Owen Roberts, M.A., D.C.L., clerk of the company, informs the editor that the Court, on April 7th, 1669, at the request of Mr. Sheriff Forth, granted the use of the hall and offices thereunto belonging for the entertainment, on April 13th, of the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen. The restored hall was taken down in 1856–57, and the present capacious edifice erected from the designs of Mr. Samuel Angell, architect. ↩
Edward Wingate, who represented St. Albans in the Long Parliament. —B. ↩
Downes says that the play took very well (Roscius Anglicanus, p. 28). Genest could not fix the date of presentation nearer than between 1667 and 1672. This comedy was not printed till 1693. ↩
A copy of the paper here alluded to is in Rawlinson, A. 195, fol. 124. It was an extract from an old book formerly in the library at Petworth, and written by Sir William Monson, the well-known English admiral, who died in 1643. He was the author of several naval tracts, all of which are printed in Churchill’s Voyages, and the passage quoted by Pepys will be found at p. 421 of vol. iii. It seems highly probable that someone in the Dutch interest might have seen Sir William’s Book of Stratagems, and planned the memorable expedition against Chatham; though the fact of the defenceless state of the River Thames, in the event of the Dutch ever becoming superior to us at sea, was too obvious to merit the appellation of a prophecy. —B. ↩
Henry VIII gave to the Fraternity of Artillery for their exercise ground a field belonging to the dissolved priory and hospital of St. Mary Spital, beyond Bishopsgate, known as the Teazle Close. The site is now marked by Artillery Lane and Artillery Street, Bishopsgate Street Without. ↩
Thomas Papillon, Esq., of Lubbenham, in Leicestershire, who purchased the manor of Acrise, in Kent, in 1666. He was an eminent merchant of London, and Master of the Mercers’ Company in 1698; and was M.P. for Dover, temp. Charles II, and for London in the 10th of William III. The case of Mr. Papillon related to a petition of the Company of Wine Merchants, concerning brandy, alias strong water, against the Farmers of Excise, of which some account is given in Anchitell Grey’s Debates, vol. i, p. 237. —B. ↩
The Island Princess, a tragicomedy by Fletcher, was revived in 1669 as The Island Princess, or the Generous Portugal. The King of Tidore was acted by Kynaston, and Quisara, the Island Princess, by Mrs. Marshall. ↩
Apparently the play by Lord Orrery, which Pepys first saw acted on September 28th, 1664. ↩
William Douglas, ninth Earl of Morton, who had married Lord Middleton’s daughter Grizel. —B. ↩
Margaret, daughter and co-heir of William Hollidaie or Haliday, Alderman and Lord Mayor of London, widow of Sir Edward Hungerford, parliamentary commander, who died, s.p., 1648. She survived till 1673. Hungerford House was pulled down by the spendthrift Sir Edward Hungerford, and Hungerford Market was built on the site in 1680. The market was rebuilt in 1831–33, and the Charing Cross station of the South Eastern Railway now marks the site. ↩
The work here mentioned is a bitter satire against the Court Rome, written in Italian, and attributed to Gregorio Leti. It was first printed in 1667, without the name or place of printer, but it is from the press of the Elzevirs. The book obtained by Pepys was probably the anonymous English translation, “Il Nipotismo di Roma: or the history of the Popes nephews from the time of Sixtus IV to the death the last Pope Alexander VII. In two parts. Written originally Italian in the year 1667 and Englished by W. A. London, 1669” 8vo. From this work the word Nepotism is derived, and is applied to the bad practice of statesmen, when in power, providing lucrative places for their relations. ↩
Juan de Mariana, Historiæ de Rebus Hispaniæ libri xx. First published at Toledo in 1592. Ten books were subsequently added, 1605, and the work was completed to the accession of Philip IV in 1624. The author was induced by its success to translate his book into Spanish. The first part of the Historia de España appeared in 1601, and it was completed in 1609. Frequently reprinted both in Latin and in Spanish since 1624. J. Stevens produced an English translation in 1699. ↩
Isabella, daughter of William Howard, Viscount Stafford, third wife to John Powlett, fifth Marquis of Winchester. —B. ↩
John, Lord Bellassis, was thrice married: first, to Jane, daughter of Sir Robert Boteler, of Woodhall, Herts; secondly, to Ann, daughter of Sir Robert Crane, of Chilton, Suffolk; thirdly, to Lady Anne Powlett, daughter of the above-named Marquis of Winchester (by his second wife, Lady Honora de Burgh), and who is the person referred to by Pepys. —B. ↩
Henry Oldenburgh, secretary of the Royal Society. ↩
A Description of an Instrument invented many years ago by Dr. Christopher Wren, for drawing the outlines of any object in Perspective. Published in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 45, p. 898 (vol. iv, 669); reprinted in Hutton’s Abridgment, vol. i, p. 325. ↩
Andronicus, or the Unfortunate Politician: showing Sin slowly punished, Right surely rescued. … By Thomas Fuller, B.D. London, 1646; second edition, 1646; third edition, 1649. There is a review of the book in the Retrospective Review, second series, vol. i, pp. 396–406. ↩
Probably on Stroud Green, and known by the name of Stapleton Hall, originally the residence of Sir Thomas Stapleton, of Gray’s Court, Oxon, Bart. The building, on which were his initials, with those of his wife, and the date, 1609, was afterwards converted into a public-house, with the sign of the Green Man, and a century ago had in the front the following inscription:
“Ye are welcome all To Stapleton Hall.”
A club, styling themselves “the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Corporation of Stroud Green,” formerly met annually at this place, which occasioned a scene similar to that of a country wake or fair. —Lewis’s Hist. of Islington, p. 281. —B. ↩
Sir Jeremiah Smith was appointed Comptroller of the Victualling in succession to Sir William Penn, who held that office from 1667 to 1669. The date of Smith’s patent is June 17th, 1669. ↩
The Roman Virgin, or Unjust Judge, a tragedy, altered by Thomas Betterton from Webster’s Appius and Virginia. Published in 1679. ↩
In Huntingdonshire, the residence of Pepys’s brother-in-law, Mr. Jackson. —B. ↩
The person here alluded to is probably Alexander Montgomery, the sixth Earl of Eglintoun, called Greysteel, who was a rank Presbyterian and a ruling Elder of the General Assembly when the solemn League and Covenant were drawn up. He fought against Charles at Marston Moor, whilst his son and successor was in the king’s army; but he afterwards became a Royalist, and died in 1661, aged seventy-three. The son was a consistent supporter of monarchy, and there seems no reason why he should have been made an object of satire. His death occurred only two months before the unseemly scene at Lambeth. —B. ↩
For what Addison calls “Thames ribaldry,” see Spectator, No. 383. —B. ↩
The Spanish Curate, a comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, was seen by Pepys at the Whitefriars Theatre on March 16th, 1660–61. ↩
This island, the second in size and in population of the West India Islands, was discovered by Columbus on December 6th, 1492. He called it Española, or little Spain, whence the latinized name of Hispaniola. It was afterwards also called Santo Domingo, after its chief town. The island remained entirely a Spanish possession till the seventeenth century. By the treaty of Ryswick in 1697 the western portion of the island was definitely ceded to France. The island is now divided into two negro republics; the western, in which French is the official language, is known as the republic of Haiti, and the eastern, in which Spanish is the official language, is known as Santo Domingo. ↩
Henry Killigrew, son of Thomas Killigrew, talked loudly of his old intimacy with the Countess of Shrewsbury, and this outrage was done at the instigation of that worthless woman. Killigrew appears to have been continually in trouble, for he was beaten by the Duke of Buckingham in 1667, and soon after was in disgrace at Court. Pepys, on May 30th, 1668, mentions that he had newly come back from France, but in October of the same year he was in Paris again, for Charles II wrote to his sister, the Duchess of Orleans, on October 17th, respecting him:
“For Harry Killigrew, you may see him as you please, and though I cannot commende my Lady Shrewsbury’s conduct in many things, yett Mr. Killigrew’s carriage towards her has been worse than I will repeate, and for his demelé with my Lord of Buckingham he ought not to brag of, for it was in all sorts most abominable. I am glad the poor wrech has gott a meanes of subsistence, but have one caution of him, that you beleeve not one word he sayes of us heere, for he is a most notorious lyar and does not want witt to set forth his storyes plesantly enough.”
“A lady’s headdress, with long flaps hanging down the sides of the cheek” (Randle Holmes). The word pinner was also used to signify an apron with a bib to it. ↩
The history of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey is too well known to require any comment, though his tragical end has never been satisfactorily explained. In the Gentleman’s Magazine for November, 1848, there are some interesting details about the knight’s family, and a description of a silver tankard with inscription and engraved representations of the burials during the Plague and of the Fire of London, now in the possession of the Corporation of Sudbury, Suffolk. —B. See note 3391. Several copies of this tankard have been described, and it has been supposed that copies from a possible original given by the king were presented by Godfrey himself to his friends. ↩
Fraizer was one of the king’s physicians, and had served him for many years in a political as well as a professional capacity. His character was not very high, and he was mixed up in several discreditable actions. See ante, September 19th, 1664 (Munk’s Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, 1878, vol. i, pp. 232–234). ↩
Godfrey was released after six days’ imprisonment. ↩
A curious and uncommon book, entitled, A Compendious Drawing-Book, composed by Alexander Browne, limner, collected from the drawings of the most celebrated painters in Europe, engraven by Arnold de Jode. A second edition, with letterpress and additions, was published in 1675 under the title of Ars Pictoria, or an Academy treating of Drawing, Painting, Limning, Etching. ↩
Richard Aldworth, of Stanlake, Berks, then one of the Auditors of the Exchequer, represented Reading in the first parliament after the Restoration, and died in 1680. He was the paternal ancestor of the second and third Lords Braybrooke. In 1762 the auditor’s grandson, Richard Neville Aldworth, succeeded to the estates of the Nevilles of Billingbear, in Berkshire, in right of his mother, who was their sole heir, and whose maiden name he assumed. The auditor’s portrait, by Lely, is still at Billingbear. —B. ↩
Dr. Joseph Henshaw, Bishop of Peterborough, 1663–1679. He died suddenly on March 9th, 1678–79. ↩
The cover page is adapted from Samuel Pepys,
a painting completed in 1666 by John Hayls.
The cover and title pages feature the League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by The League of Moveable Type.
The first edition of this ebook was released on August 21, 2019, 6:40 p.m.
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at standardebooks.org/ebooks/samuel-pepys/the-diary.
The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.
Uncopyright
May you do good and not evil. May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others. May you share freely, never taking more than you give.
Copyright pages exist to tell you that you can’t do something. Unlike them, this Uncopyright page exists to tell you that the writing and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. The United States public domain represents our collective cultural heritage, and items in it are free for anyone in the United States to do almost anything at all with, without having to get permission.
Copyright laws are different all over the world, and the source text or artwork in this ebook may still be copyrighted in other countries. If you’re not located in the United States, you must check your local laws before using this ebook. Standard Ebooks makes no representations regarding the copyright status of the source text or artwork in this ebook in any country other than the United States.
Non-authorship activities performed on items that are in the public domain—so-called “sweat of the brow” work—don’t create a new copyright. That means that nobody can claim a new copyright on an item that is in the public domain for, among other things, work like digitization, markup, or typography. Regardless, the contributors to this ebook release their contributions under the terms in the CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication, thus dedicating to the worldwide public domain all of the work they’ve done on this ebook, including but not limited to metadata, the titlepage, imprint, colophon, this Uncopyright, and any changes or enhancements to, or markup on, the original text and artwork. This dedication doesn’t change the copyright status of the source text or artwork. We make this dedication in the interest of enriching our global cultural heritage, to promote free and libre culture around the world, and to give back to the unrestricted culture that has given all of us so much.
