25th. Received a writ from the Exchequer this morning of distrain for

L70,000, which troubled me, though it be but, matter of form. To the

office, where sat all the morning. At noon my wife being to Unthanke's

christening, I to Sir W. Batten's to dinner, where merry, and the rather

because we are like to come to some good end in another of our prizes.

Thence by coach to my Lord Treasurer's, and there being come too soon to

the New Exchange, but did nothing, and back again, and there found my Lord

Bruncker and T. Harvy, and walked in a room very merrily discoursing. By

and by comes my Lord Ashly and tells us my Lord Treasurer is ill and

cannot speak with us now. Thence away, Sir W. Pen and I and Mr. Lewes,

who come hither after us, and Mr. Gawden in the last man's coach. Set me

down by the Poultry, and I to Sir Robert Viner's, and there had my account

stated and took it home to review. So home to the office, and there late

writing out something, having been a little at Sir W. Batten's to talk,

and there vexed to see them give order for Hogg's further abroad, and so

home and to bed.

26th. Up, and by coach with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Pen to White Hall,

and there saw the Duke of Albemarle, who is not well, and do grow crazy.

Thence I to St. James's, to meet Sir G. Carteret, and did, and Lord

Berkely, to get them (as we would have done the Duke of Albemarle) to the

meeting of the Lords of Appeale in the business of one of our prizes.

With them to the meeting of the Guinny Company, and there staid, and went

with Lord Berkely. While I was waiting for him in the Matted Gallery, a

young man was most finely working in Indian inke the great picture of the

King and Queen sitting,--[Charles I. and Henrietta Maria.]--by Van Dyke;

and did it very finely. Thence to Westminster Hall to hear our cause, but

[it] did not come before them to-day, so went down and walked below in the

Hall, and there met with Ned Pickering, who tells me the ill newes of his

nephew Gilbert, who is turned a very rogue, and then I took a turn with

Mr. Evelyn, with whom I walked two hours, till almost one of the clock:

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 any thing 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, for now some delays are put to the getting gifts of the King, as

that whore my Lady Byron,

[Eleanor, daughter of Robert Needham, Viscount Kilmurrey, and widow

of Peter Warburton, became in 1644 the second wife of John Byron,

first Lord Byron. Died 1663.--B.]

who had been, as he called it, the King's seventeenth whore abroad, did

not leave him till she had got him to give her an order for L4000 worth of

plate to be made for her; but by delays, thanks be to God! she died before

she had it. He tells me mighty stories of the King of France, how great a

prince he is. He hath made a code to shorten the law; he hath put out all

the ancient commanders of castles that were become hereditary; he hath

made all the fryers subject to the bishops, which before were only subject

to Rome, and so were hardly the King's subjects, and that none shall

become 'religieux' but at such an age, which he thinks will in a few,

years ruin the Pope, and bring France into a patriarchate. He confirmed

to me the business of the want of paper at the Council-table the other

day, which I have observed; Wooly being to have found it, and did, being

called, tell the King to his face the reason of it; and Mr. Evelyn tells

me 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 the

King of France hath his mistresses, but laughs at the foolery of our King,

that makes his bastards princes,

[Louis made his own bastards dukes and princes, and legitimatized

them as much as he could, connecting them also by marriage with the

real blood-royal.--B.]

and loses his revenue upon them, and makes his mistresses his masters and

the King of France did never grant Lavalliere

[Louise Francoise de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere had four

children by Louis XIV., of whom only two survived-Marie Anne

Bourbon, called Mademoiselle de Blois, born in 1666, afterwards

married to the Prince de Conti, and the Comte de Vermandois, born in

1667. In that year (the very year in which Evelyn was giving this

account to Pepys), the Duchy of Vaujour and two baronies were

created in favour of La Valliere, and her daughter, who, in the deed

of creation, was legitimatized, and styled princess.--B.]

any thing to bestow on others, and gives a little subsistence, but no

more, to his bastards. He told me the whole story of Mrs. Stewart's going

away from Court, he knowing her well; and believes her, up to her leaving

the Court, to be as virtuous as any woman in the world: and told me, from

a Lord that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth, and a sober

man, that when the Duke of Richmond did make love to her, she did ask the

King, and he did the like also; and that the King did not deny it, and

[she] told this Lord that she was come to that pass as to resolve to have

married any gentleman of L1500 a-year that would have had her in honour;

for it was come to that pass, that she could not longer continue at Court

without prostituting herself to the King,

[Even at a much later time Mrs. Godolphin well resolved "not to talk

foolishly to men, more especially THE KING,"--"be sure never to

talk to THE KING" ("Life," by Evelyn). These expressions speak

volumes as to Charles's character.--B.]

whom she had so long kept off, though he had liberty more than any other

had, or he ought to have, as to dalliance.

[Evelyn evidently believed the Duchess of Richmond to be innocent;

and his testimony, coupled with her own declaration, ought to weigh

down all the scandal which Pepys reports from other sources.--B.]

She told this Lord that she had reflected upon the occasion she had given

the world to think her a bad woman, and that she had no way but to marry

and leave the Court, rather in this way of discontent than otherwise, that

the world might see that she sought not any thing but her honour; and that

she will never come to live at Court more than when she comes to town to

come to kiss the Queene her Mistress's hand: and hopes, though she hath

little reason to hope, she can please her Lord so as to reclaim him, that

they may yet live comfortably in the country on his estate. She told this

Lord that all the jewells she ever had given her at Court, or any other

presents, more than the King's allowance of L700 per annum out of the

Privypurse for her clothes, were, at her first coming the King did give

her a necklace of pearl of about L1100 and afterwards, about seven months

since, when the King had hopes to have obtained some courtesy of her, the

King did give her some jewells, I have forgot what, and I think a pair of

pendants. The Duke of York, being once her Valentine, did give her a

jewell of about L800; and my Lord Mandeville, her Valentine this year, a

ring of about L300; and the King of France would have had her mother, who,

he says, is one of the most cunning women in the world, to have let her

stay in France, saying that he loved her not as a mistress, but as one

that he could marry as well as any lady in France; and that, if she might

stay, for the honour of his Court he would take care she should not

repent. But her mother, by command of the Queen-mother, thought rather to

bring her into England; and the King of France did give her a jewell: so

that Mr. Evelyn believes she may be worth in jewells about L6000, and that

that is all that she hath in the world: and a worthy woman; and in this

hath done as great an act of honour as ever was done by woman. That now

the Countesse Castlemayne do carry all before her: and among other

arguments to prove Mrs. Stewart to have been honest to the last, he says

that the King's keeping in still with my Lady Castlemayne do show it; for

he never was known to keep two mistresses in his life, and would never

have kept to her had he prevailed any thing with Mrs. Stewart. She is

gone yesterday with her Lord to Cobham. 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 and

service, these, as proud of their coats, did wear them all day till night,

and then rode into the Parke with them on. Nay, and he tells me he did

see my Lord Oxford and the Duke of Monmouth in a hackney-coach with two

footmen in the Parke, with their robes on; which is a most scandalous

thing, so as all gravity may be said to be lost among us. By and by we

discoursed of Sir Thomas Clifford, whom I took for a very rich and learned

man, and of the great family of that name. He tells me he is only a man

of about seven-score pounds a-year, of little learning more than the law

of a justice of peace, which he knows well: a parson's son, got to be

burgess in a little borough in the West, and here fell into the

acquaintance of my Lord Arlington, whose creature he is, and never from

him; a man of virtue, and comely, and good parts enough; and hath come

into his place with a great grace, though with a great skip over the heads

of a great many, as Chichly and Duncum, and some Lords that did expect it.

By the way, he tells me, that of all the great men of England there is

none that endeavours more to raise those that he takes into favour than my

Lord Arlington; and that, on that score, he is much more to be made one's

patron than my Lord Chancellor, who never did, nor never will do, any

thing, but for money! After having this long discourse we parted, about

one of the clock, and so away by water home, calling upon Michell, whose

wife and girle are pretty well, and I home to dinner, and after dinner

with Sir W. Batten to White Hall, there to attend the Duke of York before

council, where we all met at his closet and did the little business we

had, and here he did tell us how the King of France is intent upon his

design against Flanders, and hath drawn up a remonstrance of the cause of

the war, and appointed the 20th of the next month for his rendezvous, and

himself to prepare for the campaign the 30th, so that this, we are in

hopes, will keep him in employment. Turenne is to be his general. Here

was Carcasses business unexpectedly moved by him, but what was done

therein appears in my account of his case in writing by itself. Certain

newes of the Dutch being abroad on our coast with twenty-four great ships.

This done Sir W. Batten and I back again to London, and in the way met my

Lady Newcastle going with her coaches and footmen all in velvet: herself,

whom I never saw before, as I have heard her often described, for all the

town-talk is now-a-days of her extravagancies, with her velvetcap, her

hair about her ears; many black patches, because of pimples about her

mouth; naked-necked, without any thing about it, and a black

just-au-corps. She seemed to me a very comely woman: but I hope to see

more of her on Mayday. My mind is mightily of late upon a coach. At home,

to the office, where late spending all the evening upon entering in long

hand our late passages with Carcasse for memory sake, and so home in great

pain in my back by the uneasiness of Sir W. Batten's coach driving hard

this afternoon over the stones to prevent coming too late. So at night to

supper in great pain, and to bed, where lay in great pain, not able to

turn myself all night.

27th. Up with much pain, and to the office, where all the morning. At

noon home to dinner, W. Hewer with us. This noon I got in some coals at

23s. per chaldron, a good hearing, I thank God-having not been put to buy

a coal all this dear time, that during this war poor people have been

forced to give 45s. and 50s., and L3. In the afternoon (my wife and

people busy these late days, and will be for some time, making of shirts

and smocks) to the office, where late, and then home, after letters, and

so to supper and to bed, with much pleasure of mind, after having

dispatched business. This afternoon I spent some time walking with Mr.

Moore, in the garden, among other things discoursing of my Lord Sandwich's

family, which he tells me is in a very bad condition, for want of money

and management, my Lord's charging them with bills, and nobody, nor any

thing provided to answer them. He did discourse of his hopes of being

supplied with L1900 against a present bill from me, but I took no notice

of it, nor will do it. It seems Mr. Sheply doubts his accounts are ill

kept, and every thing else in the family out of order, which I am grieved

to hear of.

28th (Lord's day). Lay long, my pain in my back being still great, though

not so great as it was. However, up and to church, where a lazy sermon,

and then home and to dinner, my wife and I alone and Barker. After dinner,

by water--the day being mighty pleasant, and the tide serving finely, I up

(reading in Boyle's book of colours), as high as Barne Elmes, and there

took one turn alone, and then back to Putney Church, where I saw the girls

of the schools, few of which pretty; and there I come into a pew, and met

with little James Pierce, which I was much pleased at, the little rogue

being very glad to see me: his master, Reader to the Church. Here was a

good sermon and much company, but I sleepy, and a little out of order, for

my hat falling down through a hole underneath the pulpit, which, however,

after sermon, by a stick, and the helpe of the clerke, I got up again, and

then walked out of the church with the boy, and then left him, promising

him to get him a play another time. And so by water, the tide being with

me again, down to Deptford, and there I walked down the Yard, Shish and

Cox with me, and discoursed about cleaning of the wet docke, and heard,

which I had before, how, when the docke was made, a ship of near 500 tons

was there found; a ship supposed of Queene Elizabeth's time, and well

wrought, with a great deal of stoneshot in her, of eighteen inches

diameter, which was shot then in use: and afterwards meeting with Captain

Perriman and Mr. Castle at Half-way Tree, they tell me of stoneshot of

thirty-six inches diameter, which they shot out of mortarpieces. Thence

walked to Half-way Tree, and there stopt and talk with Mr. Castle and

Captain Perriman, and so to Redriffe and took boat again, and so home, and

there to write down my Journall, and so to supper and to read, and so to

bed, mightily pleased with my reading of Boyle's book of colours to-day,

only troubled that some part of it, indeed the greatest part, I am not

able to understand for want of study. My wife this night troubled at my

leaving her alone so much and keeping her within doors, which indeed I do

not well nor wisely in.

29th. Up, being visited very early by Creed newly come from

Hinchingbrooke, who went thither without my knowledge, and I believe only

to save his being taxed by the Poll Bill. I did give him no very good

countenance nor welcome, but took occasion to go forth and walked (he with

me) to St. Dunstan's, and thence I to Sir W. Coventry's, where a good

while with him, and I think he pretty kind, but that the nature of our

present condition affords not matter for either of us to be pleased with

any thing. We discoursed of Carcasse, whose Lord, he tells me, do make

complaints that his clerk should be singled out, and my Lord Berkeley do

take his part. So he advises we would sum up all we have against him and

lay it before the Duke of York; he condemned my Lord Bruncker. Thence to

Sir G. Carteret, and there talked a little while about office business,

and thence by coach home, in several places paying my debts in order to my

evening my accounts this month, and thence by and by to White Hall again

to Sir G. Carteret to dinner, where very good company and discourse, and I

think it my part to keep in there now more than ordinary because of the

probability of my Lord's coming soon home. Our Commissioners for the

treaty set out this morning betimes down the river. Here I hear that the

Duke of Cambridge, the Duke of York's son, is very sick; and my Lord

Treasurer very bad of the stone, and hath been so some days. After dinner

Sir G. Carteret and I alone in his closet an hour or more talking of my

Lord Sandwich's coming home, which, the peace being likely to be made

here, he expects, both for my Lord's sake and his own (whose interest he

wants) it will be best for him to be at home, where he will be well

received by the King; he is sure of his service well accepted, though the

business of Spain do fall by this peace. He tells me my Lord Arlington

hath done like a gentleman by him in all things. He says, if my Lord

[Sandwich] were here, he were the fittest man to be Lord Treasurer of any

man in England; and he thinks it might be compassed; for he confesses that

the King's matters do suffer through the inability of this man, who is

likely to die, and he will propound him to the King. It will remove him

from his place at sea, and the King will have a good place to bestow. He

says to me, that he could wish, when my Lord comes, that he would think

fit to forbear playing, as a thing below him, and which will lessen him,

as it do my Lord St. Albans, in the King's esteem: and as a great secret

tells me that he hath made a match for my Lord Hinchingbroke to a daughter

of my Lord Burlington's, where there is a great alliance, L10,000 portion;

a civil family, and relation to my Lord Chancellor, whose son hath married

one of the daughters; and that my Lord Chancellor do take it with very

great kindness, so that he do hold himself obliged by it. My Lord

Sandwich hath referred it to my Lord Crew, Sir G. Carteret, and Mr.

Montagu, to end it. My Lord Hinchingbroke and the lady know nothing yet

of it. It will, I think, be very happy. Very glad of this discourse, I

away mightily pleased with the confidence I have in this family, and so

away, took up my wife, who was at her mother's, and so home, where I

settled to my chamber about my accounts, both Tangier and private, and up

at it till twelve at night, with good success, when news is brought me

that there is a great fire in Southwarke: so we up to the leads, and then

I and the boy down to the end of our, lane, and there saw it, it seeming

pretty great, but nothing to the fire of London, that it made me think

little of it. We could at that distance see an engine play--that is, the

water go out, it being moonlight. By and by, it begun to slacken, and

then I home and to bed.

30th. Up, and Mr. Madden come to speak with me, whom my people not

knowing have made to wait long without doors, which vexed me. Then comes

Sir John Winter to discourse with me about the forest of Deane, and then

about my Lord Treasurer, and asking me whether, as he had heard, I had not

been cut for the stone, I took him to my closet, and there shewed it to

him, of which he took the dimensions and had some discourse of it, and I

believe will shew my Lord Treasurer it. Thence to the office, where we

sat all the morning, but little to do, and then to the 'Change, where for

certain I hear, and the News book declares, a peace between France and

Portugal. Met here with Mr. Pierce, and he tells me the Duke of Cambridge

is very ill and full of spots about his body, that Dr. Frazier knows not

what to think of it. Then home and to dinner, and then to the office,

where all the afternoon; we met about Sir W. Warren's business and

accounts, wherein I do rather oppose than forward him, but not in declared

terms, for I will not be at, enmity with him, but I will not have him find

any friendship so good as mine. By and by rose and by water to White

Hall, and then called my wife at Unthanke's. So home and to my chamber,

to my accounts, and finished them to my heart's wishes and admiration,

they being grown very intricate, being let alone for two months, but I

brought them together all naturally, within a few shillings, but to my

sorrow the Poll money I paid this month and mourning have made me L80 a

worse man than at my last balance, so that I am worth now but L6700, which

is yet an infinite mercy to me, for which God make me thankful. So late

to supper, with a glad heart for the evening of my accounts so well, and

so to bed.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

As he called it, the King's seventeenth whore abroad

He is not a man fit to be told what one hears

I having now seen a play every day this week

Ill sign when we are once to come to study how to excuse

King is offended with the Duke of Richmond's marrying

Mrs. Stewart's sending the King his jewels again

Much difficulty to get pews, I offering the sexton money

My people do observe my minding my pleasure more than usual

My wife this night troubled at my leaving her alone so much

Never was known to keep two mistresses in his life (Charles II.)

Officers are four years behind-hand unpaid

Sparrowgrass

Suspect the badness of the peace we shall make

Swear they will not go to be killed and have no pay

Diary of Samuel Pepys — Volume 52: April 1667 · 第 3 / 3 段