Samuel Pepys, author of the incomparable "Diary," was born
either in London or at Brampton, Huntingdonshire, on February
23, 1632-3, son of John Pepys, a London tailor. By the
influence of the Earl of Sandwich, he was entered in the
public service. Beginning as a clerk in the Exchequer, he was
soon transferred to the Naval Department, and rose to the high
office of secretary to the Admiralty. His services were
interrupted for a time, on the baseless suspicion that he was
a Catholic, during the panic about the supposed "Popish Plot,"
but he was returned to his charge, and held it until the
accession of William and Mary. Pepys was a man of very wide
interests. He was a member of parliament, and became president
of the Royal Society. He was an accomplished musician and a
keen critic of painting, architecture, and the drama. But it
is as a connoisseur of human nature that Pepys is known
to-day. The "Diary" extended over the ten years, January,
1659-60, to May, 1669; it closed when he was thirty-seven
years old, and he lived thirty-four years afterwards. The
manuscript, written in shorthand, fills six volumes, which
repose at Magdalene College, Cambridge. It was deciphered in
1825, when it was published as "Memoirs of Samuel Pepys,
comprising his Diary from 1659 to 1669, deciphered by the Rev.
J. Smith, and a Selection of his Private Correspondence,
edited by Lord Braybrooke." Pepys died on May 26, 1703.
_I.--"God Bless King Charles"_
_January_ 1, 1659-60. Blessed be God, at the end of last year I was in
very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of
cold. I lived in Axe Yard, having my wife and servant, Jane, and no
other in family than us three.
The condition of the state was thus: the Rump, after being disturbed by
my Lord Lambert, was lately returned to sit again. The officers of the
army all forced to yield. Lawson still lies in the river, and Monk is
with his army in Scotland. The New Common Council of the City do speak
very high; and had sent to Monk their sword-bearer, to acquaint him with
their desires for a free and full parliament, which is at present the
desires, and the hopes, and the expectations of all. My own private
condition very handsome, and esteemed rich, but indeed very poor;
besides my goods of my house, and my office, which at present is
somewhat certain.
_March 9, 1660._ To my lord at his lodging, and came to Westminster with
him in the coach; and I telling him that I was willing and ready to go
with him to sea, he agreed that I should. I hear that it is resolved
privately that a treaty be offered with the king.
_May 1._ To-day I hear they were very merry at Deal, setting up the
king's flag upon one of their maypoles, and drinking his health upon
their knees in the streets, and firing the guns, which the soldiers of
the castle threatened, but durst not oppose.
_May 2._ Welcome news of the parliament's votes yesterday, which will be
remembered for the happiest May-day that hath been many a year to
England. The king's letter was read in the house, wherein he submits
himself and all things to them. The house, upon reading the letter,
ordered £50,000 to be forthwith provided to send to his majesty for his
present supply. The City of London have put out a declaration, wherein
they do disclaim their owning any other government but that of a king,
lords, and commons.
_May 3._ This morning my lord showed me the king's declaration to be
communicated to the fleet. I went up to the quarter-deck with my lord
and the commanders, and there read the papers; which done, the seamen
did all of them cry out, "God bless King Charles!" with the greatest joy
imaginable. After dinner to the rest of the ships quite through the
fleet.
_May 11._ This morning we began to pull down all the state's arms in the
fleet, having first sent to Dover for painters to come and set up the
king's. After dinner we set sail from the Downs, but dropped anchor
again over against Dover Castle.
_May 12._ My lord gave order for weighing anchor, which we did, and
sailed all day.
_May 14._ In the morning the Hague was clearly to be seen by us. The
weather bad; we were sadly washed when we come near the shore, it being
very hard to land there.
_May 23._ Come infinity of people on board from the king to go along
with him. The king, with the two dukes and Queen of Bohemia, Princess
Royal, and Prince of Orange, come on board, where I, in their coming in,
kissed the king's, queen's, and princess's hands, having done the other
before. Infinite shooting of the runs, and that in a disorder on
purpose, which was better than if it had been otherwise. We weighed
anchor, and with a fresh gale and most happy weather we set sail for
England.
_May 24._ Up, and made myself as fine as I could, with the stockings on
and wide canons that I bought at Hague. Extraordinary press of noble
company, and great mirth all day.
_May 25._ By the morning we were come close to the land, and everybody
made ready to get on shore. I spoke to the Duke of York about business,
who called me Pepys by name, and upon my desire did promise me his
future favour. The king went in my lord's barge with the two dukes, and
was received by General Monk with all love and respect at his entrance
upon the land of Dover. The shouting and joy expressed by all is past
imagination.
1660-1661. At the end of the last and the beginning of this year, I do
live in one of the houses belonging to the Navy Office, as one of the
principal officers; my family being myself, my wife, Jane, Will Hewer,
and Wayneman, my girl's brother. Myself in constant good health, and in
a most handsome and thriving condition. Blessed be God for it. The king
settled, and loved of all.
_II.--The Plague_
_July 31, 1665._ I ended this month with the greatest joy that I ever
did any in my life, because I have spent the greatest part of it with
abundance of joy, and honour, and pleasant journeys, and brave
entertainments, and without cost of money. We end this month after the
greatest glut of content that ever I had, only under some difficulty
because of the plague, which grows mightily upon us, the last week being
about 1,700 or 1,800 of the plague. My Lord Sandwich at sea with a fleet
of about one hundred sail, to the northward, expecting De Ruyter, or the
Dutch East India fleet.
_August 8._ To my office a little, and then to the Duke of Albemarle's
about some business. The streets empty all the way now, even in London,
which is a sad sight. To Westminster Hall, where talking, hearing very
sad stories. So home through the City again, wishing I may have taken no
ill in going; but I will go, I think, no more thither. The news of De
Ruyter's coming home is certain, and told to the great disadvantage of
our fleet; but it cannot be helped.
_August 10._ To the office, where we sat all morning; in great trouble
to see the bill this week rise so high, to above 4,000 in all, and of
them above 3,000 of the plague. Home to draw over anew my will, which I
had bound myself by oath to dispatch by to-morrow night; the town
growing so unhealthy that a man cannot depend upon living two days.
_August 12._ The people die so that now it seems they are fain to carry
the dead to be buried by daylight, the nights not sufficing to do it in.
And my lord mayor commands people to be within at nine at night, that
the sick may have liberty to go abroad for air. There is one also dead
out of one of our ships at Deptford, which troubles us mightily. I am
told, too, that a wife of one of the grooms at court is dead at
Salisbury, so that the king and queen are speedily to be all gone to
Milton. So God preserve us!
_August 16._ To the Exchange, where I have not been in a great while.
But, Lord! how sad a sight it is to see the streets empty of people, and
very few upon the 'Change. Jealous of every door that one sees shut up
lest it should be the plague; and about two shops in three, if not more,
generally shut up.
_August 22._ I walked to Greenwich, in my way seeing a coffin with a
dead body therein, dead of the plague, which was carried out last night,
and the parish have not appointed anybody to bury it; but only set a
watch there all day and night, that nobody should go thither or come
thence, this disease making us more cruel to one another than we are to
dogs.
_August 25._ This day I am told that Dr. Burnett, my physician, is this
morning dead of the plague, which is strange, his man dying so long ago,
and his house this month open again. Now himself dead. Poor, unfortunate
man!
_August 30._ I went forth and walked towards Moorfields to see (God
forgive my presumption!) whether I could see any dead corpse going to
the grave. But, Lord! how everybody looks, and discourse in the street
is of death and nothing else, and few people going up and down, that the
town is like a place distressed and forsaken.
_September 3 (Lord's Day)._ Up; and put on my coloured silk suit very
fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear,
because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a
wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done as to periwigs,
for nobody will dare to buy any hair, for fear of the infection, that it
has been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague. My Lord
Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I up to the vestry at the desire of the
justices of the peace, in order to the doing something for the keeping
of the plague from growing; but, Lord! to consider the madness of the
people of the town, who will, because they are forbid, come in crowds
along with the dead corpses to see them buried.
_September 6._ To London, to pack up more things; and there I saw fires
burning in the streets, as it is through the whole city, by the lord
mayor's order.
_September 14._ To the Duke of Albemarle, where I find a letter from my
Lord Sandwich, of the fleet's meeting with about eighteen more of the
Dutch fleet, and his taking of most of them; and the messenger says they
had taken three after the letter was sealed, which being twenty-one, and
those took the other day, is forty-five sail, some of which are good,
and others rich ships. Having taken a copy of my lord's letter, I away
toward the 'Change, the plague being all thereabouts. Here my news was
highly welcome, and I did wonder to see the 'Change so full--I believe
two hundred people. And, Lord! to see how I did endeavour to talk with
as few as I could, there being now no shutting up of houses infected,
that to be sure we do converse and meet with people that have the plague
upon them. I spent some thought on the occurrences of this day, giving
matter for as much content on one hand and melancholy on another, as any
day in all my life. For the first, the finding of my money and plate all
safe at London; the hearing of this good news after so great a despair
of my lord's doing anything this year; and the decrease of 500 and more,
which is the first decrease we have yet had in the sickness since it
begun. Then, on the other side, my finding that though the bill in
general is abated, yet in the City within the walls it is increased; my
meeting dead corpses, carried close to me at noonday in Fenchurch
Street.
One of my own watermen, that carried me daily, fell sick as soon as he
had landed me on Friday last, when I had been all night upon the water,
and is now dead of the plague. And, lastly, that both my servants, W.
Hewer and Tom Edwards, have lost their fathers of the plague this week,
do put me into great apprehension of melancholy, and with good reason.
_November 15._ The plague, blessed be God! is decreased 400, making the
whole this week but 1,300 and odd, for which the Lord be praised!
_December 25 (Christmas Day)._ To church in the morning, and there saw a
wedding in the church, which I have not seen many a day, and the young
people so merry with one another, and strange to see what delight we
married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition,
every man and woman gazing and smiling at them.
_December 31._ Thus ends this year, to my great joy, in this manner. I
have raised my estate from £1,300 in this year to £4,400. I have got
myself greater interest, I think, by my diligence, and my employments
increased by that of treasurer for Tangier and surveyor of the victuals.
It is true we have gone through great melancholy because of the plague,
and I put to great charges by it, by keeping my family long at Woolwich,
and myself and my clerks at Greenwich, and a maid at London; but I hope
the king will give us some satisfaction for that. But now the plague is
abated almost to nothing, and I intending to get to London as fast as I
can. To our great joy the town fills apace, and shops begin to be open
again.
_III.--The Great Fire_
_September 2, 1666._ Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get
things ready against our feast to-day, Jane called us up about three in
the morning to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose,
and slipped on my nightgown, and went to her window, and thought it to
be on the back side of Mark Lane at the farthest, and so went to bed
again. About seven rose again to dress myself, and there looked out at
the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was, and further off.
By-and-by Jane comes and tells me that above 300 houses have been burned
down, and that it is now burning down all Fish Street, by London Bridge.
So I made myself ready, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon
one of the high places; and there I did see the houses at that end of
the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other
side of the bridge. So down with my heart full of trouble to the
lieutenant of the Tower, who tells me that it begun this morning in the
king's baker's house in Pudding Lane.
So I down to the waterside, and there got a boat, and through bridge,
and there saw a lamentable fire. Everybody endeavouring to remove their
goods, and flinging into the river, or bringing them into lighters that
lay off; poor people staying in their houses till the very fire touched
them, and then running into boats or clambering from one pair of stairs
by the waterside to another. And among other things, the poor pigeons, I
perceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows
and balconies till they burned their wings and fell down. Having staid,
and in an hour's time seen the fire rage every way, and nobody, to my
sight, endeavouring to quench it, I to White Hall, and there up to the
king's closet in the chapel, where people come about me, and I did give
them an account which dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the
king.
So I was called for, and did tell the king and Duke of York what I saw,
and that unless his majesty did command houses to be pulled down,
nothing could stop the fire. They seemed much troubled, and the king
commanded me to go to my lord mayor from him and command him to spare no
houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. Meeting with Captain
Cocke, I in his coach, which he lent me, to Paul's, and there walked
along Watling Street, as well as I could, every creature coming away
loaded with goods to save, and here and there sick people carried away
in beds. At last met my lord mayor in Canning Street, like a man spent.
To the king's message, he cried, like a fainting woman, "Lord! what can
I do? I am spent; people will not obey me. I have been pulling down
houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it." So I walked
home, seeing people almost all distracted, and no manner of means used
to quench the fire. The houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, and full
of matter for burning, as pitch and tar in Thames Street, and warehouses
of oil and wines and brandy.
Soon as I dined, I away, and walked through the City, the streets full
of people, and horses and carts loaden with goods. To Paul's Wharf,
where I took boat, and saw the fire was now got further, both below and
above bridge, and no likelihood of stopping it. Met with the king and
Duke of York in their barge. Their order was only to pull down houses
apace; but little was or could be done, the fire coming so fast. Having
seen as much as I could, I away to White Hall by appointment, and there
walked to St. James's Park, and there met my wife, and Creed and Wood
and his wife, and walked to my boat; and upon the water again, and to
the fire, still increasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as we
could for smoke, and all over the Thames you were almost burned with a
shower of fire-drops.
When you could endure no more upon the water, we to a little ale-house
on the Bankside, and there stayed till it was dark almost, and saw the
fire grow; and as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners
and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could
see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid, malicious, bloody flame,
not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. We stayed till, it being
darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to
the other side of the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of
above a mile long; it made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and
all on fire and flaming at once; and a horrid noise the flames made, and
the cracking of houses at their ruin. So home with a sad heart.
_IV.--Of the Badness of the Government_
_April 26, 1667._ To White Hall, and there saw the Duke of Albemarle,
who is not well, and do grow crazy. Then I took a turn with Mr. Evelyn,
with whom I walked two hours; talking of the badness of the government,
where nothing but wickedness, and wicked men and women command the king;
that it is not in his nature to gainsay anything that relates to his
pleasures; that much of it arises from the sickliness of our ministers
of state, who cannot be about him as the idle companions are, and
therefore he gives way to the young rogues; and then from the negligence
of the clergy, that a bishop shall never be seen about him, as the King
of France hath always; that the king would fain have some of the same
gang to be lord treasurer, which would be yet worse.
And Mr. Evelyn tells me of several of the menial servants of the court
lacking bread, that have not received a farthing wages since the king's
coming in. He tells me that now the Countess Castlemaine do carry all
before her. He did tell me of the ridiculous humour of our king and
knights of the Garter the other day, who, whereas heretofore their robes
were only to be worn during their ceremonies, these, as proud of their
coats, did wear them all day till night, and then rode in the park with
them on. Nay, he tells me he did see my Lord Oxford and Duke of Monmouth
in a hackney coach with two footmen in the park, with their robes on,
which is a most scandalous thing, so as all gravity may be said to be
lost among us.
_V.--The End of the Diary_
_November 30, 1668._ My wife after dinner went the first time abroad in
her coach, calling on Roger Pepys, and visiting Mrs. Creed and my cousin
Turner. Thus endeth this month with very good content, but most
expenseful to my purse on things of pleasure, having furnished my wife's
closet and the best chamber, and a coach and horses that ever I knew in
the world; and I am put into the greatest condition of outward state
that ever I was in, or hoped ever to be. But my eyes are come to that
condition that I am not able to work. God do His will in it!
_December 2._ Abroad with my wife, the first time that ever I rode in my
own coach, which do make my heart rejoice and praise God. So she and I
to the king's playhouse, and there saw "The Usurper," a pretty good
play. Then we to White Hall; where my wife stayed while I up to the
duchess, to speak with the Duke of York; and here saw all the ladies,
and heard the silly discourse of the king with his people about him.
_December 21._ To the Duke's playhouse, and saw "Macbeth." The king and
court there, and we sat just under them and my Lady Castlemaine. And my
wife, by my troth, appeared, I think, as pretty as any of them; I never
thought so much before, and so did Talbot and W. Hewer. The king and
Duke of York minded me, and smiled upon me; but it vexed me to see Moll
Davis in the box over the king and my Lady Castlemaine, look down upon
the king, and he up to her. And so did my Lady Castlemaine once; but
when she saw Moll Davis she looked like fire, which troubled me.
_May 31, 1669._ Up very betimes, and continued all the morning examining
my accounts, in order to the fitting myself to go abroad beyond sea,
which the ill-condition of my eyes and my neglect hath kept me
behindhand in. Had another meeting with the Duke of York at White Hall
on yesterday's work, and made a good advance; and so being called by my
wife, we to the park, Mary Batelier and a Dutch gentleman, a friend of
hers, being with us. Thence to "The World's End," a drinking house by
the park; and there merry, and so home late.
And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own
eyes in the keeping of my journal, having done now so long as to undo my
eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand; and therefore
resolve, from this time forward to have it kept by my people in
longhand, and must be contented to set down no more than is fit for them
and all the world to know. And so I betake myself to that course, which
is almost as much as to see myself go into my grave; for which, and all
the discomforts that will accompany my being blind, the good God prepare
me! S.P.
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