SEPTEMBER 1667

September 1st (Lord's day). Up, and betimes by water from the Tower,

and called at the Old Swan for a glass of strong water, and sent word to

have little Michell and his wife come and dine with us to-day; and so,

taking in a gentleman and his lady that wanted a boat, I to Westminster.

Setting them on shore at Charing Cross, I to Mrs. Martin's, where I

had two pair of cuffs which I bespoke, and there did sit and talk with

her.... and here I did see her little girle my goddaughter, which will

be pretty, and there having staid a little I away to Creed's chamber,

and when he was ready away to White Hall, where I met with several

people and had my fill of talk. Our new Lord-keeper, Bridgeman, did this

day, the first time, attend the King to chapel with his Seal. Sir H.

Cholmly tells me there are hopes that the women will also have a rout,

and particularly that my Lady Castlemayne is coming to a composition

with the King to be gone; but how true this is, I know not. Blancfort is

made Privy-purse to the Duke of York; the Attorney-general is made Chief

justice, in the room of my Lord Bridgeman; the Solicitor-general is made

Attorney-general; and Sir Edward Turner made Solicitor-general. It is

pretty to see how strange every body looks, nobody knowing whence this

arises; whether from my Lady Castlemayne, Bab. May, and their faction;

or from the Duke of York, notwithstanding his great appearance of

defence of the Chancellor; or from Sir William Coventry, and some few

with him. But greater changes are yet expected. So home and by water to

dinner, where comes Pelting and young Michell and his wife, whom I have

not seen a great while, poor girle, and then comes Mr. Howe, and all

dined with me very merry, and spent all the afternoon, Pelting, Howe,

and I, and my boy, singing of Lock's response to the Ten Commandments,

which he hath set very finely, and was a good while since sung before

the King, and spoiled in the performance, which occasioned his printing

them for his vindication, and are excellent good. They parted, in the

evening my wife and I to walk in the garden and there scolded a little,

I being doubtful that she had received a couple of fine pinners (one of

point de Gesne), which I feared she hath from some [one] or other of a

present; but, on the contrary, I find she hath bought them for me to pay

for them, without my knowledge. This do displease me much; but yet do so

much please me better than if she had received them the other way, that

I was not much angry, but fell to other discourse, and so to my chamber,

and got her to read to me for saving of my eyes, and then, having got a

great cold, I know not how, I to bed and lay ill at ease all the night.

2nd. This day is kept in the City as a publick fast for the fire this

day twelve months: but I was not at church, being commanded, with the

rest, to attend the Duke of York; and, therefore, with Sir J. Minnes

to St. James's, where we had much business before the Duke of York,

and observed all things to be very kind between the Duke of York and W.

Coventry, which did mightily joy me. When we had done, Sir W. Coventry

called me down with him to his chamber, and there told me that he is

leaving the Duke of York's service, which I was amazed at. But he tells

me that it is not with the least unkindness on the Duke of York's

side, though he expects, and I told him he was in the right, it will be

interpreted otherwise, because done just at this time; "but," says he,

"I did desire it a good while since, and the Duke of York did, with much

entreaty, grant it, desiring that I would say nothing of it, that he

might have time and liberty to choose his successor, without being

importuned for others whom he should not like:" and that he hath chosen

Mr. Wren, which I am glad of, he being a very ingenious man; and so Sir

W. Coventry says of him, though he knows him little; but particularly

commends him for the book he writ in answer to "Harrington's Oceana,"

which, for that reason, I intend to buy. He tells me the true reason is,

that he, being a man not willing to undertake more business than he can

go through, and being desirous to have his whole time to spend upon the

business of the Treasury, and a little for his own ease, he did desire

this of the Duke of York. He assures me that the kindness with which he

goes away from the Duke of York is one of the greatest joys that ever

he had in the world. I used some freedom with him, telling him how the

world hath discoursed of his having offended the Duke of York, about

the late business of the Chancellor. He do not deny it, but says that

perhaps the Duke of York might have some reason for it, he opposing him

in a thing wherein he was so earnest but tells me, that, notwithstanding

all that, the Duke of York does not now, nor can blame him; for he tells

me that he was the man that did propose the removal of the Chancellor;

and that he did still persist in it, and at this day publickly owns it,

and is glad of it; but that the Duke of York knows that he did first

speak of it to the Duke of York, before he spoke to any mortal creature

besides, which was fair dealing: and the Duke of York was then of the

same mind with him, and did speak of it to the King; though since, for

reasons best known to himself, he was afterwards altered. I did then

desire to know what was the great matter that grounded his desire of the

Chancellor's removal? He told me many things not fit to be spoken, and

yet not any thing of his being unfaithful to the King; but, 'instar

omnium', he told me, that while he was so great at the Council-board,

and in the administration of matters, there was no room for any body to

propose any remedy to what was amiss, or to compass any thing, though

never so good for the kingdom, unless approved of by the Chancellor, he

managing all things with that greatness which now will be removed, that

the King may have the benefit of others' advice. I then told him that

the world hath an opinion that he hath joined himself with my Lady

Castlemayne's faction in this business; he told me, he cannot help it,

but says they are in an errour: but for first he will never, while he

lives, truckle under any body or any faction, but do just as his own

reason and judgment directs; and, when he cannot use that freedom, he

will have nothing to do in public affairs but then he added, that he

never was the man that ever had any discourse with my Lady Castlemayne,

or with others from her, about this or any public business, or ever made

her a visit, or at least not this twelvemonth, or been in her lodgings

but when called on any business to attend the King there, nor hath had

any thing to do in knowing her mind in this business. He ended all with

telling me that he knows that he that serves a Prince must expect, and

be contented to stand, all fortunes, and be provided to retreat, and

that that he is most willing to do whenever the King shall please. And

so we parted, he setting me down out of his coach at Charing Cross, and

desired me to tell Sir W. Pen what he had told me of his leaving the

Duke of York's service, that his friends might not be the last that know

it. I took a coach and went homewards; but then turned again, and to

White Hall, where I met with many people; and, among other things, do

learn that there is some fear that Mr. Bruncker is got into the King's

favour, and will be cherished there; which will breed ill will between

the King and Duke of York, he lodging at this time in White Hall since

he was put away from the Duke of York: and he is great with Bab. May, my

Lady Castlemayne, and that wicked crew. But I find this denied by Sir

G. Carteret, who tells me that he is sure he hath no kindness from the

King; that the King at first, indeed, did endeavour to persuade the Duke

of York from putting him away; but when, besides this business of his

ill words concerning his Majesty in the business of the Chancellor, he

told him that he hath had, a long time, a mind to put him away for his

ill offices, done between him and his wife, the King held his peace, and

said no more, but wished him to do what he pleased with him; which was

very noble. I met with Fenn; and he tells me, as I do hear from some

others, that the business of the Chancellor's had proceeded from

something of a mistake, for the Duke of York did first tell the King

that the Chancellor had a desire to be eased of his great trouble; and

that the King, when the Chancellor come to him, did wonder to hear him

deny it, and the Duke of York was forced to deny to the King that ever

he did tell him so in those terms: but the King did answer that he was

sure that he did say some such thing to him; but, however, since it had

gone so far, did desire him to be contented with it, as a thing very

convenient for him as well as for himself (the King), and so matters

proceeded, as we find. Now it is likely the Chancellor might, some time

or other, in a compliment or vanity, say to the Duke of York, that he

was weary of this burden, and I know not what; and this comes of it.

Some people, and myself among them, are of good hope from this change

that things are reforming; but there are others that do think but that

it is a hit of chance, as all other our greatest matters are, and that

there is no general plot or contrivance in any number of people what to

do next, though, I believe, Sir W. Coventry may in himself have further

designs; and so that, though other changes may come, yet they shall be

accidental and laid upon [not] good principles of doing good. Mr. May

shewed me the King's new buildings, in order to their having of some old

sails for the closing of the windows this winter. I dined with Sir G.

Carteret, with whom dined Mr. Jack Ashburnham and Dr. Creeton, who

I observe to be a most good man and scholar. In discourse at dinner

concerning the change of men's humours and fashions touching meats, Mr.

Ashburnham told us, that he remembers since the only fruit in request,

and eaten by the King and Queen at table as the best fruit, was the

Katharine payre, though they knew at the time other fruits of France

and our own country. After dinner comes in Mr. Townsend; and there I was

witness of a horrid rateing, which Mr. Ashburnham, as one of the Grooms

of the King's Bedchamber, did give him for want of linen for the King's

person; which he swore was not to be endured, and that the King would

not endure it, and that the King his father, would have hanged his

Wardrobe-man should he have been served so the King having at this day

no handkerchers, and but three bands to his neck, he swore. Mr. Townsend

answered want of money, and the owing of the linen-draper L5000; and

that he hath of late got many rich things made--beds, and sheets, and

saddles, and all without money, and he can go no further but still this

old man, indeed, like an old loving servant, did cry out for the King's

person to be neglected. But, when he was gone, Townsend told me that

it is the grooms taking away the King's linen at the quarter's end, as

their fees, which makes this great want: for, whether the King can get

it or no, they will run away at the quarter's end with what he hath had,

let the King get more as he can. All the company gone, Sir G. Carteret

and I to talk: and it is pretty to observe how already he says that

he did always look upon the Chancellor indeed as his friend, though he

never did do him any service at all, nor ever got any thing by him, nor

was he a man apt, and that, I think, is true, to do any man any kindness

of his own nature; though I do know that he was believed by all the

world to be the greatest support of Sir G. Carteret with the King of

any man in England: but so little is now made of it! He observes that

my Lord Sandwich will lose a great friend in him; and I think so too, my

Lord Hinchingbroke being about a match calculated purely out of respect

to my Lord Chancellor's family. By and by Sir G. Carteret, and Townsend,

and I, to consider of an answer to the Commissioners of the Treasury

about my Lord Sandwich's profits in the Wardrobe; which seem, as we make

them, to be very small, not L1000 a-year; but only the difference in

measure at which he buys and delivers out to the King, and then 6d. in

the pound from the tradesmen for what money he receives for him; but

this, it is believed, these Commissioners will endeavour to take away.

From him I went to see a great match at tennis, between Prince Rupert

and one Captain Cooke, against Bab. May and the elder Chichly; where the

King was, and Court; and it seems are the best players at tennis in the

nation. But this puts me in mind of what I observed in the morning, that

the King, playing at tennis, had a steele-yard carried to him, and I

was told it was to weigh him after he had done playing; and at noon

Mr. Ashburnham told me that it is only the King's curiosity, which he

usually hath of weighing himself before and after his play, to see how

much he loses in weight by playing: and this day he lost 4 lbs. Thence

home and took my wife out to Mile End Green, and there I drank, and so

home, having a very fine evening. Then home, and I to Sir W. Batten and

[Sir] W. Pen, and there discoursed of Sir W. Coventry's leaving the Duke

of York, and Mr. Wren's succeeding him. They told me both seriously,

that they had long cut me out for Secretary to the Duke of York, if ever

[Sir] W. Coventry left him; which, agreeing with what I have heard from

other hands heretofore, do make me not only think that something of that

kind hath been thought on, but do comfort me to see that the world hath

such an esteem of my qualities as to think me fit for any such thing.

Though I am glad, with all my heart, that I am not so; for it would

never please me to be forced to the attendance that that would require,

and leave my wife and family to themselves, as I must do in such a case;

thinking myself now in the best place that ever man was in to please his

own mind in, and, therefore, I will take care to preserve it. So to bed,

my cold remaining though not so much upon me. This day Nell, an old tall

maid, come to live with us, a cook maid recommended by Mr. Batelier.

3rd. All the morning, business at the office, dined at home, then in the

afternoon set my wife down at the Exchange, and I to St. James's, and

there attended the Duke of York about the list of ships that we propose

to sell: and here there attended Mr. Wren the first time, who hath not

yet, I think, received the Duke of York's seal and papers. At our coming

hither, we found the Duke and Duchesse all alone at dinner, methought

melancholy; or else I thought so, from the late occasion of the

Chancellor's fall, who, they say, however, takes it very contentedly.

Thence I to White Hall a little, and so took up my wife at the 'Change,

and so home, and at the office late, and so home to supper and to bed,

our boy ill.

4th. By coach to White Hall to the Council-chamber; and there met with

Sir W. Coventry going in, who took me aside, and told me that he was

just come from delivering up his seal and papers to Mr. Wren; and told

me he must now take his leave of me as a naval man, but that he shall

always bear respect to his friends there, and particularly to myself,

with great kindness; which I returned to him with thanks, and so, with

much kindness parted: and he into, the Council. I met with Sir Samuel

Morland, who chewed me two orders upon the Exchequer, one of L600, and

another of L400, for money assigned to him, which he would have me lend

him money upon, and he would allow 12 per cent. I would not meddle with

them, though they are very good; and would, had I not so much money out

already on public credit. But I see by this his condition all trade will

be bad. I staid and heard Alderman Barker's case of his being abused by

the Council of Ireland, touching his lands there: all I observed there

is the silliness of the King, playing with his dog all the while, and

not minding the business,

[Lord Rochester wrote

"His very dog at council board

Sits grave and wise as any lord."

Poems, 1697; p. 150.--The king's dogs were constantly stolen from

him, and he advertised for their return. Some of these amusing

advertisements are printed in "Notes and Queries" (seventh series,

vol. vii., p. 26).]

and what he said was mighty weak; but my Lord Keeper I observe to be a

mighty able man. The business broke off without any end to it, and so

I home, and thence with my wife and W. Hewer to Bartholomew fayre, and

there Polichinelli, where we saw Mrs. Clerke and all her crew; and so

to a private house, and sent for a side of pig, and eat it at an

acquaintance of W. Hewer's, where there was some learned physic and

chymical books, and among others, a natural "Herball" very fine. Here

we staid not, but to the Duke of York's play house, and there saw

"Mustapha," which, the more I see, the more I like; and is a most

admirable poem, and bravely acted; only both Betterton and Harris could

not contain from laughing in the midst of a most serious part from the

ridiculous mistake of one of the men upon the stage; which I did not

like. Thence home, where Batelier and his sister Mary come to us and sat

and talked, and so, they gone, we to supper and to bed.

5th. Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat till noon, and

then I home to dinner, where Mary Batelier and her brother dined

with us, who grows troublesome in his talking so much of his going to

Marseilles, and what commissions he hath to execute as a factor, and a

deal of do of which I am weary. After dinner, with Sir W. Pen, my

wife, and Mary Batelier to the Duke of York's house, and there saw

"Heraclius," which is a good play; but they did so spoil it with their

laughing, and being all of them out, and with the noise they made within

the theatre, that I was ashamed of it, and resolve not to come thither

again a good while, believing that this negligence, which I never

observed before, proceeds only from their want of company in the pit,

that they have no care how they act. My wife was ill, and so I was

forced to go out of the house with her to Lincoln's Inn walks, and there

in a corner she did her business, and was by and by well, and so into

the house again, but sick of their ill acting. So home and to the

office, where busy late, then home to supper and to bed. This morning

was told by Sir W. Batten, that he do hear from Mr. Grey, who hath good

intelligence, that our Queen is to go into a nunnery, there to spend her

days; and that my Lady Castlemayne is going into France, and is to have

a pension of L4000 a-year. This latter I do more believe than the other,

it being very wise in her to do it, and save all she hath, besides

easing the King and kingdom of a burden and reproach.

6th. Up, and to Westminster to the Exchequer, and then into the Hall,

and there bought "Guillim's Heraldry" for my wife, and so to the Swan,

and thither come Doll Lane, and je did toucher her, and drank, and so

away, I took coach and home, where I find my wife gone to Walthamstow by

invitation with Sir W. Batten, and so I followed, taking up Mrs. Turner,

and she and I much discourse all the way touching the baseness of Sir

W. Pen and sluttishness of his family, and how the world do suspect that

his son Lowther, who is sick of a sore mouth, has got the pox. So we

come to Sir W. Batten's, where Sir W. Pen and his Lady, and we and Mrs.

Shipman, and here we walked and had an indifferent good dinner, the

victuals very good and cleanly dressed and good linen, but no fine meat

at all. After dinner we went up and down the house, and I do like it

very well, being furnished with a great deal of very good goods. And

here we staid, I tired with the company, till almost evening, and then

took leave, Turner and I together again, and my wife with [Sir] W. Pen.

At Aldgate I took my wife into our coach, and so to Bartholomew fair,

and there, it being very dirty, and now night, we saw a poor fellow,

whose legs were tied behind his back, dance upon his hands with his arse

above his head, and also dance upon his crutches, without any legs upon

the ground to help him, which he did with that pain that I was sorry to

see it, and did pity him and give him money after he had done. Then we

to see a piece of clocke-work made by an Englishman--indeed, very good,

wherein all the several states of man's age, to 100 years old, is shewn

very pretty and solemne; and several other things more cheerful, and so

we ended, and took a link, the women resolving to be dirty, and walked

up and down to get a coach; and my wife, being a little before me, had

been like to be taken up by one, whom we saw to be Sam Hartlib. My wife

had her wizard on: yet we cannot say that he meant any hurt; for it was

as she was just by a coach-side, which he had, or had a mind to take up;

and he asked her, "Madam, do you go in this coach?" but, soon as he

saw a man come to her (I know not whether he knew me) he departed away

apace. By and by did get a coach, and so away home, and there to supper,

and to bed.

7th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to

dinner, where Goodgroome was teaching my wife, and dined with us, and

I did tell him of my intention to learn to trill, which he will not

promise I shall obtain, but he will do what can be done, and I am

resolved to learn. All the afternoon at the office, and towards night

out by coach with my wife, she to the 'Change, and I to see the price of

a copper cisterne for the table, which is very pretty, and they demand

L6 or L7 for one; but I will have one. Then called my wife at the

'Change, and bought a nightgown for my wife: cost but 24s., and so out

to Mile End to drink, and so home to the office to end my letters, and

so home to supper and to bed.

8th (Lord's day). Up, and walked to St. James's; but there I find Sir W.

Coventry gone from his chamber, and Mr. Wren not yet come thither. But

I up to the Duke of York, and there, after being ready, my Lord Bruncker

and I had an audience, and thence with my Lord Bruncker to White Hall,

and he told me, in discourse, how that, though it is true that Sir W.

Coventry did long since propose to the Duke of York the leaving his

service, as being unable to fulfill it, as he should do, now he hath

so much public business, and that the Duke of York did bid him to say

nothing of it, but that he would take time to please himself in another

to come in his place; yet the Duke's doing it at this time, declaring

that he hath found out another, and this one of the Chancellor's

servants, he cannot but think was done with some displeasure, and that

it could not well be otherwise, that the Duke of York should keep one

in that place, that had so eminently opposed him in the defence of his

father-in-law, nor could the Duchesse ever endure the sight of him,

to be sure. But he thinks that the Duke of York and he are parted

upon clear terms of friendship. He tells me he do believe that my Lady

Castlemayne is compounding with the King for a pension, and to leave the

Court; but that her demands are mighty high: but he believes the King is

resolved, and so do every body else I speak with, to do all possible to

please the Parliament; and he do declare that he will deliver every body

up to them to give an account of their actions: and that last Friday,

it seems, there was an Act of Council passed, to put out all Papists in

office, and to keep out any from coming in. I went to the King's Chapel

to the closet, and there I hear Cresset sing a tenor part along with the

Church musick very handsomely, but so loud that people did laugh at him,

as a thing done for ostentation. Here I met Sir G. Downing, who would

speak with me, and first to inquire what I paid for my kid's leather

gloves I had on my hand, and shewed me others on his, as handsome, as

good in all points, cost him but 12d. a pair, and mine me 2s. He told

me he had been seven years finding out a man that could dress English

sheepskin as it should be--and, indeed, it is now as good, in all

respects, as kid, and he says will save L100,000 a-year, that goes out

to France for kid's skins. Thus he labours very worthily to advance our

own trade, but do it with mighty vanity and talking. But then he told me

of our base condition, in the treaty with Holland and France, about our

prisoners, that whereas before we did clear one another's prisoners, man

for man, and we upon the publication of the peace did release all our's,

300 at Leith, and others in other places for nothing, the Dutch do

keep theirs, and will not discharge them with[out] paying their debts

according to the Treaty. That his instruments in Holland, writing to

our Embassadors about this to Bredagh, they answer them that they do not

know of any thing that they have done therein, but left it just as

it was before. To which, when they answer, that by the treaty their

Lordships had [not] bound our countrymen to pay their debts in prison,

they answer they cannot help it, and we must get them off as cheap as

we can. On this score, they demand L1100 for Sir G. Ascue, and L5000 for

the one province of Zealand, for the prisoners that we have therein. He

says that this is a piece of shame that never any nation committed, and

that our very Lords here of the Council, when he related this matter to

them, did not remember that they had agreed to this article; and swears

that all their articles are alike, as the giving away Polleroon, and

Surinam, and Nova Scotia, which hath a river 300 miles up the country,

with copper mines more than Swedeland, and Newcastle coals, the only

place in America that hath coals that we know of; and that Cromwell did

value those places, and would for ever have made much of them; but

we have given them away for nothing, besides a debt to the King of

Denmarke. But, which is most of all, they have discharged those very

particular demands of merchants of the Guinny Company and others, which

he, when he was there, had adjusted with the Dutch, and come to an

agreement in writing, and they undertaken to satisfy, and that this was

done in black and white under their hands; and yet we have forgiven all

these, and not so much as sent to Sir G. Downing to know what he had

done, or to confer with him about any one point of the treaty, but

signed to what they would have, and we here signed to whatever in grosse

was brought over by Mr. Coventry. And [Sir G. Downing] tells me, just in

these words, "My Lord Chancellor had a mind to keep himself from being

questioned by clapping up a peace upon any terms." When I answered that

there was other privy-councillors to be advised with besides him, and

that, therefore, this whole peace could not be laid to his charge,

he answered that nobody durst say any thing at the council-table but

himself, and that the King was as much afeard of saying any thing there

as the meanest privy-councillor; and says more, that at this day the

King, in familiar talk, do call the Chancellor "the insolent man," and

says that he would not let him speak himself in Council: which is very

high, and do shew that the Chancellor is like to be in a bad state,

unless he can defend himself better than people think. And yet Creed

tells me that he do hear that my Lord Cornbury do say that his father do

long for the coming of the Parliament, in order to his own vindication,

more than any one of his enemies. And here it comes into my head to set

down what Mr. Rawlinson, whom I met in Fenchurch Street on Friday last,

looking over his ruines there, told me, that he was told by one of my

Lord Chancellor's gentlemen lately (--------byname), that a grant coming

to him to be sealed, wherein the King hath given her [Lady Castlemaine],

or somebody by her means, a place which he did not like well of, he did

stop the grant; saying, that he thought this woman would sell everything

shortly: which she hearing of, she sent to let him know that she had

disposed of this place, and did not doubt, in a little time, to dispose

of his. This Rawlinson do tell me my Lord Chancellor's own gentleman did

tell him himself. Thence, meeting Creed, I with him to the Parke,

there to walk a little, and to the Queen's Chapel and there hear their

musique, which I liked in itself pretty well as to the composition,

but their voices are very harsh and rough that I thought it was some

instruments they had that made them sound so. So to White Hall, and saw

the King and Queen at dinner; and observed (which I never did before),

the formality, but it is but a formality, of putting a bit of bread

wiped upon each dish into the mouth of every man that brings a dish; but

it should be in the sauce. Here were some Russes come to see the King

at dinner: among others, the interpreter, a comely Englishman, in the

Envoy's own clothes; which the Envoy, it seems, in vanity did send to

show his fine clothes upon this man's back, which is one, it seems, of

a comelier presence than himself: and yet it is said that none of their

clothes are their own, but taken out of the King's own Wardrobe; and

which they dare not bring back dirty or spotted, but clean, or are

in danger of being beaten, as they say: insomuch that, Sir Charles

Cotterell says, when they are to have an audience they never venture to

put on their clothes till he appears to come to fetch them; and, as soon

as ever they come home, put them off again. I to Sir G. Carteret's

to dinner; where Mr. Cofferer Ashburnham; who told a good story of a

prisoner's being condemned at Salisbury for a small matter. While he was

on the bench with his father-in-law, judge Richardson, and while they

were considering to transport him to save his life, the fellow flung

a great stone at the judge, that missed him, but broke through the

wainscoat. Upon this, he had his hand cut off, and was hanged presently!

Here was a gentleman, one Sheres, one come lately from my Lord Sandwich,

with an express; but, Lord! I was almost ashamed to see him, lest he

should know that I have not yet wrote one letter to my Lord since his

going. I had no discourse with him, but after dinner Sir G. Carteret and

I to talk about some business of his, and so I to Mrs. Martin, where was

Mrs. Burroughs, and also fine Mrs. Noble, my partner in the christening

of Martin's child, did come to see it, and there we sat and talked an

hour, and then all broke up and I by coach home, and there find Mr.

Pelling and Howe, and we to sing and good musique till late, and then to

supper, and Howe lay at my house, and so after supper to bed with much

content, only my mind a little troubled at my late breach of vowes,

which however I will pay my forfeits, though the badness of my eyes,

making me unfit to read or write long, is my excuse, and do put me

upon other pleasures and employment which I should refrain from in

observation of my vowes.

9th. Up; and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon comes

Creed to dine with me. After dinner, he and I and my wife to the

Bear-Garden, to see a prize fought there. But, coming too soon, I left

them there and went on to White Hall, and there did some business with

the Lords of the Treasury; and here do hear, by Tom Killigrew and

Mr. Progers, that for certain news is come of Harman's having spoiled

nineteen of twenty-two French ships, somewhere about the Barbadoes,

I think they said; but wherever it is, it is a good service, and very

welcome. Here I fell in talk with Tom Killigrew about musick, and he

tells me that he will bring me to the best musick in England (of which,

indeed, he is master), and that is two Italians and Mrs. Yates, who, he

says, is come to sing the Italian manner as well as ever he heard any:

says that Knepp won't take pains enough, but that she understands her

part so well upon the stage, that no man or woman in the House do the

like. Thence I by water to the Bear-Garden, where now the yard was full

of people, and those most of them seamen, striving by force to get in,

that I was afeard to be seen among them, but got into the ale-house, and

so by a back-way was put into the bull-house, where I stood a good while

all alone among the bulls, and was afeard I was among the bears, too;

but by and by the door opened, and I got into the common pit; and there,

with my cloak about my face, I stood and saw the prize fought, till one

of them, a shoemaker, was so cut in both his wrists that he could not

fight any longer, and then they broke off: his enemy was a butcher. The

sport very good, and various humours to be seen among the rabble that is

there. Thence carried Creed to White Hall, and there my wife and I took

coach and home, and both of us to Sir W. Batten's, to invite them to

dinner on Wednesday next, having a whole buck come from Hampton Court,

by the warrant which Sir Stephen Fox did give me. And so home to supper

and to bed, after a little playing on the flageolet with my wife, who do

outdo therein whatever I expected of her.

10th. Up, and all the morning at the Office, where little to do but

bemoan ourselves under the want of money; and indeed little is, or can

be done, for want of money, we having not now received one penny for any

service in many weeks, and none in view to receive, saving for paying of

some seamen's wages. At noon sent to by my Lord Bruncker to speak with

him, and it was to dine with him and his Lady Williams (which I have not

now done in many months at their own table) and Mr. Wren, who is come

to dine with them, the first time he hath been at the office since his

being the Duke of York's Secretary. Here we sat and eat and talked and

of some matters of the office, but his discourse is as yet but weak in

that matter, and no wonder, he being new in it, but I fear he will not

go about understanding with the impatience that Sir W. Coventry did.

Having dined, I away, and with my wife and Mercer, set my wife down at

the 'Change, and the other at White Hall, and I to St. James's, where we

all met, and did our usual weekly business with the Duke of York. But,

Lord! methinks both he and we are mighty flat and dull over what we

used to be, when Sir W. Coventry was among us. Thence I into St. James's

Park, and there met Mr. Povy; and he and I to walk an hour or more in

the Pell Mell, talking of the times. He tells me, among other things,

that this business of the Chancellor do breed a kind of inward distance

between the King and the Duke of York, and that it cannot be avoided;

for though the latter did at first move it through his folly, yet he is

made to see that he is wounded by it, and is become much a less man than

he was, and so will be: but he tells me that they are, and have always

been, great dissemblers one towards another; and that their parting

heretofore in France is never to be thoroughly reconciled between them.

He tells me that he believes there is no such thing like to be, as a

composition with my Lady Castlemayne, and that she shall be got out of

the way before the Parliament comes; for he says she is as high as ever

she was, though he believes the King is as weary of her as is possible,

and would give any thing to remove her, but he is so weak in his passion

that he dare not do it; that he do believe that my Lord Chancellor will

be doing some acts in the Parliament which shall render him popular;

and that there are many people now do speak kindly of him that did not

before; but that, if he do do this, it must provoke the King, and that

party that removed him. He seems to doubt what the King of France will

do, in case an accommodation shall be made between Spain and him for

Flanders, for then he will have nothing more easy to do with his army

than to subdue us. Parted with him at White Hall, and, there I took

coach and took up my wife and Mercer, and so home and I to the office,

where ended my letters, and then to my chamber with my boy to lay up

some papers and things that lay out of order against to-morrow, to make

it clear against the feast that I am to have. Here Mr. Pelling come to

sit with us, and talked of musique and the musicians of the town, and so

to bed, after supper.

11th. Up, and with Mr. Gawden to the Exchequer. By the way, he tells me

this day he is to be answered whether he must hold Sheriffe or no; for

he would not hold unless he may keep it at his office, which is out of

the city (and so my Lord Mayor must come with his sword down, whenever

he comes thither), which he do, because he cannot get a house fit for

him in the city, or else he will fine for it. Among others that they

have in nomination for Sheriffe, one is little Chaplin, who was his

servant, and a very young man to undergo that place; but as the city

is now, there is no great honour nor joy to be had, in being a public

officer. At the Exchequer I looked after my business, and when done went

home to the 'Change, and there bought a case of knives for dinner, and a

dish of fruit for 5s., and bespoke other things, and then home, and here

I find all things in good order, and a good dinner towards. Anon comes

Sir W. Batten and his lady, and Mr. Griffith, their ward, and Sir W. Pen

and his lady, and Mrs. Lowther, who is grown, either through pride or

want of manners, a fool, having not a word to say almost all dinner;

and, as a further mark of a beggarly, proud fool, hath a bracelet of

diamonds and rubies about her wrist, and a sixpenny necklace about

her neck, and not one good rag of clothes upon her back; and Sir John

Chichly in their company, and Mrs. Turner. Here I had an extraordinary

good and handsome dinner for them, better than any of them deserve or

understand, saving Sir John Chichly and Mrs. Turner, and not much mirth,

only what I by discourse made, and that against my genius. After dinner

I took occasion to break up the company soon as I could, and all parted,

Sir W. Batten and I by water to White Hall, there to speak with the

Commissioners of the Treasury, who are mighty earnest for our hastening

all that may be the paying off of the Seamen, now there is money, and

are considering many other thins for easing of charge, which I am glad

of, but vexed to see that J. Duncomb should be so pressing in it as if

none of us had like care with him. Having done there, I by coach to

the Duke of York's playhouse, and there saw part of "The Ungratefull

Lovers;" and sat by Beck Marshall, who is very handsome near hand. Here

I met Mrs. Turner and my wife as we agreed, and together home, and there

my wife and I part of the night at the flageolet, which she plays now

any thing upon almost at first sight and in good time. But here come Mr.

Moore, and sat and discoursed with me of publique matters: the sum of

which is, that he do doubt that there is more at the bottom than the

removal of the Chancellor; that is, he do verily believe that the King

do resolve to declare the Duke of Monmouth legitimate, and that we shall

soon see it. This I do not think the Duke of York will endure without

blows; but his poverty, and being lessened by having the Chancellor

fallen and [Sir] W. Coventry gone from him, will disable him from being

able to do any thing almost, he being himself almost lost in the esteem

of people; and will be more and more, unless my Lord Chancellor, who is

already begun to be pitied by some people, and to be better thought of

than was expected, do recover himself in Parliament. He would seem to

fear that this difference about the Crowne (if there be nothing

else) will undo us. He do say that, that is very true; that my Lord

[Chancellor] did lately make some stop of some grants of L2000 a-year

to my Lord Grandison, which was only in his name, for the use of my Lady

Castlemaine's children; and that this did incense her, and she did speak

very scornful words, and sent a scornful message to him about it. He

gone, after supper, I to bed, being mightily pleased with my wife's

playing so well upon the flageolet, and I am resolved she shall learn

to play upon some instrument, for though her eare be bad, yet I see she

will attain any thing to be done by her hand.

12th. Up, and at the office all the morning till almost noon, and then

I rode from the office (which I have not done five times I think since

I come thither) and to the Exchequer for some tallies for Tangier; and

that being done, to the Dog taverne, and there I spent half a piece upon

the clerks, and so away, and I to Mrs. Martin's, but she not at home,

but staid and drunk with her sister and landlady, and by that time it

was time to go to a play, which I did at the Duke's house, where "Tu

Quoque" was the first time acted, with some alterations of Sir W.

Davenant's; but the play is a very silly play, methinks; for I, and

others that sat by me, Mr. Povy and Mr. Progers, were weary of it; but

it will please the citizens. My wife also was there, I having sent for

her to meet me there, and W. Hewer. After the play we home, and there

I to the office and despatched my business, and then home, and mightily

pleased with my wife's playing on the flageolet, she taking out any

tune almost at first sight, and keeping time to it, which pleases me

mightily. So to supper and to bed.

13th. Called up by people come to deliver in ten chaldron of coals,

brought in one of our prizes from Newcastle. The rest we intend to sell,

we having above ten chaldron between us. They sell at about 28s. or 29s.

per chaldron; but Sir W. Batten hath sworn that he was a cuckold that

sells under 30s., and that makes us lay up all but what we have for our

own spending, which is very pleasant; for I believe we shall be glad to

sell them for less. To the office, and there despatched business till

ten o'clock, and then with Sir W. Batten and my wife and Mrs. Turner by

hackney-coach to Walthamstow, to Mr. Shipman's to dinner, where Sir W.

Pen and my Lady and Mrs. Lowther (the latter of which hath got a sore

nose, given her, I believe, from her husband, which made me I could not

look upon her with any pleasure), and here a very good and plentifull

wholesome dinner, and, above all thing, such plenty of milk meats, she

keeping a great dairy, and so good as I never met with. The afternoon

proved very foul weather, the morning fair. We staid talking till

evening, and then home, and there to my flageolet with my wife, and so

to bed without any supper, my belly being full and dinner not digested.

It vexed me to hear how Sir W. Pen, who come alone from London, being to

send his coachman for his wife and daughter, and bidding his coachman in

much anger to go for them (he being vexed, like a rogue, to do anything

to please his wife), his coachman Tom was heard to say a pox, or God rot

her, can she walk hither? These words do so mad me that I could find in

my heart to give him or my Lady notice of them.

14th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy. At noon comes

Mr. Pierce and dined with me to advise about several matters of his

relating to the office and his purse, and here he told me that the King

and Duke of York and the whole Court is mighty joyful at the Duchesse of

York's being brought to bed this day, or yesterday, of a son; which will

settle men's minds mightily. And he tells me that he do think that what

the King do, of giving the Duke of Monmouth the command of his

Guards, and giving my Lord Gerard L12,000 for it, is merely to find an

employment for him upon which he may live, and not out of any design to

bring him into any title to the Crowne; which Mr. Moore did the other

day put me into great fear of. After dinner, he gone, my wife to the

King's play-house to see "The Northerne Castle," which I think I never

did see before. Knipp acted in it, and did her part very extraordinary

well; but the play is but a mean, sorry play; but the house very full of

gallants. It seems, it hath not been acted a good while. Thence to the

Exchange for something for my wife, and then home and to the office, and

then home to our flageolet, and so to bed, being mightily troubled in

mind at the liberty I give myself of going to plays upon pretence of the

weakness of my eyes, that cannot continue so long together at work at my

office, but I must remedy it.

15th (Lord's day). Up to my chamber, there to set some papers to rights.

By and by to church, where I stood, in continual fear of Mrs. Markham's

coming to church, and offering to come into our pew, to prevent which,

soon as ever I heard the great door open, I did step back, and clap my

breech to our pew-door, that she might be forced to shove me to come

in; but as God would have it, she did not come. Mr. Mills preached, and

after sermon, by invitation, he and his wife come to dine with me, which

is the first time they have been in my house; I think, these five years,

I thinking it not amiss, because of their acquaintance in our country,

to shew them some respect. Mr. Turner and his wife, and their son the

Captain, dined with me, and I had a very good dinner for them, and very

merry, and after dinner, he [Mr. Mills] was forced to go, though it

rained, to Stepney, to preach. We also to church, and then home, and

there comes Mr. Pelling, with two men, by promise, one Wallington and

Piggott, the former whereof, being a very little fellow, did sing a most

excellent bass, and yet a poor fellow, a working goldsmith, that goes

without gloves to his hands. Here we sung several good things, but I am

more and more confirmed that singing with many voices is not singing,

but a sort of instrumental musique, the sense of the words being lost

by not being heard, and especially as they set them with Fuges of words,

one after another, whereas singing properly, I think, should be but with

one or two voices at most and the counterpoint. They supped with me, and

so broke, up, and then my wife and I to my chamber, where, through the

badness of my eyes, she was forced to read to me, which she do very

well, and was Mr. Boyle's discourse upon the style of the Scripture,'

which is a very fine piece, and so to bed.

16th. Up, and several come to me, among others Mr. Yeabsly of Plymouth,

to discourse about their matters touching Tangier, and by and by Sir

H. Cholmly, who was with me a good while; who tells me that the Duke

of York's child is christened, the Duke of Albemarle and the Marquis

of Worcester' godfathers, and my Lady Suffolke godmother; and they have

named it Edgar, which is a brave name. But it seems they are more joyful

in the Chancellor's family, at the birth of this Prince, than in wisdom

they should, for fear it should give the King cause of jealousy. Sir

H. Cholmly do not seem to think there is any such thing can be in the

King's intention as that of raising the Duke of Monmouth to the Crowne,

though he thinks there may possibly be some persons that would, and

others that would be glad to have the Queen removed to some monastery,

or somewhere or other, to make room for a new wife; for they will all

be unsafe under the Duke of York. He says the King and Parliament will

agree; that is, that the King will do any thing that they will have him.

We together to the Exchequer about our Tangier orders, and so parted at

the New Exchange, where I staid reading Mrs. Phillips's poems till my

wife and Mercer called me to Mrs. Pierces, by invitation to dinner,

where I find her painted, which makes me loathe her, and the nastiest

poor dinner that made me sick, only here I met with a Fourth Advice to

the Painter upon the coming in of the Dutch to the River and end of the

war, that made my heart ake to read, it being too sharp, and so true.

Here I also saw a printed account of the examinations taken, touching

the burning of the City of London, shewing the plot of the Papists

therein; which, it seems, hath been ordered and to have been burnt by

the hands of the hangman, in Westminster Palace. I will try to get one

of them. After dinner she showed us her closet, which is pretty, with

her James's picture done by Hales, but with a mighty bad hand, which is

his great fault that he do do negligently, and the drapery also not

very good. Being tired of being here, and sick of their damned sluttish

dinner, my wife and Mercer and I away to the King's play-house, to see

the "Scornfull Lady;" but it being now three o'clock there was not one

soul in the pit; whereupon, for shame, we would not go in, but, against

our wills, went all to see "Tu Quoque" again, where there is a pretty

store of company, and going with a prejudice the play appeared better

to us. Here we saw Madam Morland, who is grown mighty fat, but is very

comely. But one of the best arts of our sport was a mighty pretty lady

that sat behind, that did laugh so heartily and constantly, that it did

me good to hear her. Thence to the King's house, upon a wager of mine

with my wife, that there would be no acting there today, there being

no company: so I went in and found a pretty good company there, and saw

their dance at the end of he play, and so to the coach again, and to the

Cock ale house, and there drank in our coach, and so home, and my wife

read to me as last night, and so to bed vexed with our dinner to-day,

and myself more with being convinced that Mrs. Pierce paints, so that

henceforth to be sure I shall loathe her.

17th. Up, and at the office all the morning, where Mr. Wren come to us

and sat with us, only to learn, and do intend to come once or twice a

week and sit with us. In the afternoon walked to the Old Swan, the way

mighty dirty, and there called at Michell's, and there had opportunity

para kiss su moher, but elle did receive it with a great deal of seeming

regret, which did vex me. But however I do not doubt overcoming her as

I did the moher of the monsieur at Deptford. So thence by water to

Westminster, to Burgess, and there did receive my orders for L1500 more

for Tangier. Thence to the Hall, and there talked a little with Mrs.

Michell, and so to Mrs. Martin's to pay for my cuffs and drink with

her.... And by and by away by coach and met with Sir H. Cholmly, and

with him to the Temple, and there in Playford's shop did give him some

of my Exchequer orders and took his receipts, and so parted and home,

and there to my business hard at the office, and then home, my wife

being at Mrs. Turner's, who and her husband come home with her, and here

staid and talked and staid late, and then went away and we to bed. But

that which vexed me much this evening is that Captain Cocke and Sir W.

Batten did come to me, and sat, and drank a bottle of wine, and told me

how Sir W. Pen hath got an order for the "Flying Greyhound" for himself,

which is so false a thing, and the part of a knave, as nothing almost

can be more. This vexed me; but I resolve to bring it before the Duke,

and try a pull for it.

18th. Up betimes and to Captain Cocke, in his coach which he sent for

me, and he not being ready I walked in the Exchange, which is now made

pretty, by having windows and doors before all their shops, to keep

out the cold. By and by to him, and he being ready, he and I out in his

coach to my Lord Chancellor's; there to Mr. Wren's chamber, who did tell

us the whole of Sir W. Pen's having the order for this ship of ours,

and we went with him to St. James's, and there I did see the copy of it,

which is built upon a suggestion of his having given the King a ship

of his, "The Prosperous," wherein is such a cheat as I have the best

advantage in the world over him, and will make him do reason, or lay him

on his back. This I was very glad of, and having done as far as I could

in it we returned, and I home, and there at the office all the morning,

and at noon with my Lord Bruncker to the Treasurer's office to look over

the clerks who are there making up the books, but in such a manner as it

is a shame to see. Then home to dinner, and after dinner, my mind mighty

full of this business of Sir W. Pen's, to the office, and there busy all

the afternoon. This evening Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Pen and I met at

[Sir] W. Batten's house, and there I took an opportunity to break the

business, at which [Sir] W. Pen is much disturbed, and would excuse it

the most he can, but do it so basely, that though he do offer to let go

his pretence to her, and resign up his order for her, and come in only

to ask his share of her (which do very well please me, and give me

present satisfaction), yet I shall remember him for a knave while I

live. But thus my mind is quieted for the present more than I thought

I should be, and am glad that I shall have no need of bidding him open

defiance, which I would otherwise have done, and made a perpetual war

between us. So to the office, and there busy pretty late, and so home

and to supper with my wife, and so to bed.

19th. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, W.

Hewer and I and my wife, when comes my cozen, Kate Joyce, and an aunt of

ours, Lettice, formerly Haynes, and now Howlett, come to town to see her

friends, and also Sarah Kite, with her little boy in her armes, a very

pretty little boy. The child I like very well, and could wish it my own.

My wife being all unready, did not appear. I made as much of them as

I could such ordinary company; and yet my heart was glad to see them,

though their condition was a little below my present state, to be

familiar with. She tells me how the lifeguard, which we thought a little

while since was sent down into the country about some insurrection,

was sent to Winchcombe, to spoil the tobacco there, which it seems the

people there do plant contrary to law, and have always done, and still

been under force and danger of having it spoiled, as it hath been

oftentimes, and yet they will continue to plant it.

[Winchcombe St. Peter, a market-town in Gloucestershire. Tobacco

was first cultivated in this parish, after its introduction into

England, in 1583, and it proved, a considerable source of profit to

the inhabitants, till the trade was placed under restrictions. The

cultivation was first prohibited during the Commonwealth, and

various acts were passed in the reign of Charles II. for the same

purpose. Among the king's pamphlets in the British Museum is a

tract entitled "Harry Hangman's Honour, or Glostershire Hangman's

Request to the Smokers and Tobacconists of London," dated June 11th,

1655. The author writes: "The very planting of tobacco hath proved

the decay of my trade, for since it hath been planted in

Glostershire, especially at Winchcomb, my trade hath proved nothing

worth." He adds: "Then 'twas a merry world with me, for indeed

before tobacco was there planted, there being no kind of trade to

employ men, and very small tillage, necessity compelled poor men to

stand my friends by stealing of sheep and other cattel, breaking of

hedges, robbing of orchards, and what not."]

The place, she says, is a miserable poor place. They gone, I to the

office, where all the afternoon very busy, and at night, when my eyes

were weary of the light, I and my wife to walk in the garden, and then

home to supper and pipe, and then to bed.

20th. At the office doing business all the morning. At noon expected

Creed to have come to dine with me and brought Mr. Sheres (the gentleman

lately come from my Lord Sandwich) with him; but they come not, so

there was a good dinner lost. After dinner my wife and Jane about some

business of hers abroad, and then I to the office, where, having done

my business, I out to pay some debts: among others to the taverne at the

end of Billiter Lane, where my design was to see the pretty mistress of

the house, which I did, and indeed is, as I always thought, one of the

modestest, prettiest, plain women that ever I saw. Thence was met in the

street by Sir W. Pen, and he and I by coach to the King's playhouse, and

there saw "The Mad Couple," which I do not remember that I have seen; it

is a pretty pleasant play. Thence home, and my wife and I to walk in the

garden, she having been at the same play with Jane, in the 18d. seat, to

shew Jane the play, and so home to supper and to bed.

21st. All the morning at the office, dined at home, and expected Sheres

again, but he did not come, so another dinner lost by the folly of

Creed. After having done some business at the office, I out with my

wife to Sheres's lodging and left an invitation for him to dine with

me tomorrow, and so back and took up my wife at the Exchange, and then

kissed Mrs. Smith's pretty hand, and so with my wife by coach to take

some ayre (but the way very dirty) as far as Bow, and so drinking (as

usual) at Mile End of Byde's ale, we home and there busy at my letters

till late, and so to walk by moonshine with my wife, and so to bed. The

King, Duke of York, and the men of the Court, have been these four or

five days a-hunting at Bagshot.

22nd (Lord's day). At my chamber all the morning making up some

accounts, to my great content. At noon comes Mr. Sheres, whom I find a

good, ingenious man, but do talk a little too much of his travels. He

left my Lord Sandwich well, but in pain to be at home for want of money,

which comes very hardly. Most of the afternoon talking of Spain, and

informing him against his return how things are here, and so spent most

of the afternoon, and then he parted, and then to my chamber busy till

my eyes were almost blind with writing and reading, and I was fain to

get the boy to come and write for me, and then to supper, and Pelling

come to me at supper, and then to sing a Psalm with him, and so parted

and to bed, after my wife had read some thing to me (to save my eyes)

in a good book. This night I did even my accounts of the house, which

I have to my great shame omitted now above two months or more, and

therefore am content to take my wife's and mayd's accounts as they give

them, being not able to correct them, which vexes me; but the fault

being my own, contrary to my wife's frequent desires, I cannot find

fault, but am resolved never to let them come to that pass again. The

truth is, I have indulged myself more in pleasure for these last two

months than ever I did in my life before, since I come to be a person

concerned in business; and I doubt, when I come to make up my accounts,

I shall find it so by the expence.

23rd. Up, and walked to the Exchange, there to get a coach but failed,

and so was forced to walk a most dirty walk to the Old Swan, and there

took boat, and so to the Exchange, and there took coach to St. James's

and did our usual business with the Duke of York. Thence I walked over

the Park to White Hall and took water to Westminster, and there, among

other things, bought the examinations of the business about the Fire of

London, which is a book that Mrs. Pierce tells me hath been commanded to

be burnt. The examinations indeed are very plain. Thence to the Excise

office, and so to the Exchange, and did a little business, and so home

and took up my wife, and so carried her to the other end, where I 'light

at my Lord Ashly's, by invitation, to dine there, which I did, and

Sir H. Cholmly, Creed, and Yeabsly, upon occasion of the business of

Yeabsly, who, God knows, do bribe him very well for it; and it is pretty

to see how this great man do condescend to these things, and do all he

can in his examining of his business to favour him, and yet with great

cunning not to be discovered but by me that am privy to it. At table it

is worth remembering that my Lord tells us that the House of Lords is

the last appeal that a man can make, upon a poynt of interpretation of

the law, and that therein they are above the judges; and that he did

assert this in the Lords' House upon the late occasion of the quarrel

between my Lord Bristoll and the Chancellor, when the former did accuse

the latter of treason, and the judges did bring it in not to be treason:

my Lord Ashly did declare that the judgment of the judges was nothing

in the presence of their Lordships, but only as far as they were the

properest men to bring precedents; but not to interpret the law to their

Lordships, but only the inducements of their persuasions: and this the

Lords did concur in. Another pretty thing was my Lady Ashly's speaking

of the bad qualities of glass-coaches; among others, the flying open

of the doors upon any great shake: but another was, that my Lady

Peterborough being in her glass-coach, with the glass up, and seeing a

lady pass by in a coach whom she would salute, the glass was so clear,

that she thought it had been open, and so ran her head through the

glass, and cut all her forehead! After dinner, before we fell to the

examination of Yeabsly's business, we were put into my Lord's room

before he could come to us, and there had opportunity to look over his

state of his accounts of the prizes; and there saw how bountiful the

King hath been to several people and hardly any man almost, Commander of

the Navy of any note, but hath had some reward or other out of it; and

many sums to the Privy-purse, but not so many, I see, as I thought

there had been: but we could not look quite through it. But several

Bedchamber-men and people about the Court had good sums; and, among

others, Sir John Minnes and Lord Bruncker have L200 a-piece for looking

to the East India prizes, while I did their work for them. By and by my

Lord come, and we did look over Yeabsly's business a little; and I find

how prettily this cunning Lord can be partial and dissemble it in this

case, being privy to the bribe he is to receive. This done; we away, and

with Sir H. Cholmly to Westminster; who by the way told me how merry

the king and Duke of York and Court were the other day, when they were

abroad a-hunting. They come to Sir G. Carteret's house at Cranbourne,

and there were entertained, and all made drunk; and that all being

drunk, Armerer did come to the King, and swore to him, "By God, Sir,"

says he, "you are not so kind to the Duke of York of late as you used

to be."--"Not I?" says the King. "Why so?"--"Why," says he, "if you are,

let us drink his health."--"Why, let us," says the King. Then he fell

on his knees, and drank it; and having done, the King began to drink it.

"Nay, Sir," says Armerer, "by God you must do it on your knees!" So he

did, and then all the company: and having done it, all fell a-crying

for joy, being all maudlin and kissing one another, the King the Duke

of York, and the Duke of York the King: and in such a maudlin pickle as

never people were: and so passed the day. But Sir H. Cholmly tells me,

that the King hath this good luck, that the next day he hates to have

any body mention what he had done the day before, nor will suffer any

body to gain upon him that way; which is a good quality. Parted with Sir

H. Cholmly at White Hall, and there I took coach and took up my wife at

Unthanke's, and so out for ayre, it being a mighty pleasant day, as far

as Bow, and so drank by the way, and home, and there to my chamber till

by and by comes Captain Cocke about business; who tells me that Mr.

Bruncker is lost for ever, notwithstanding my Lord Bruncker hath advised

with him, Cocke, how he might make a peace with the Duke of York and

Chancellor, upon promise of serving him in the Parliament but Cocke says

that is base to offer, and will have no success neither. He says

that Mr. Wren hath refused a present of Tom Wilson's for his place of

Store-keeper of Chatham, and is resolved never to take any thing; which

is both wise in him, and good to the King's service. He stayed with me

very late, here being Mrs. Turner and W. Batelier drinking and laughing,

and then to bed.

24th. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning very busy. At noon

home, where there dined with me Anthony Joyce and his wife, and Will

and his wife, and my aunt Lucett, that was here the other day, and Sarah

Kite, and I had a good dinner for them, and were as merry as I could

be in that company where W. Joyce is, who is still the same impertinent

fellow that ever he was. After dinner I away to St. James's, where we

had an audience of the Duke of York of many things of weight, as the

confirming an establishment of the numbers of men on ships in peace and

other things of weight, about which we stayed till past candle-light,

and so Sir W. Batten and W. Pen and I fain to go all in a hackney-coach

round by London Wall, for fear of cellars, this being the first time I

have been forced to go that way this year, though now I shall begin to

use it. We tired one coach upon Holborne-Conduit Hill, and got another,

and made it a long journey home. Where to the office and then home, and

at my business till twelve at night, writing in short hand the draught

of a report to make to the King and Council to-morrow, about the reason

of not having the book of the Treasurer made up. This I did finish

to-night to the spoiling of my eyes, I fear. This done, then to bed.

This evening my wife tells me that W. Batelier hath been here to-day,

and brought with him the pretty girl he speaks of, to come to serve

my wife as a woman, out of the school at Bow. My wife says she is

extraordinary handsome, and inclines to have her, and I am glad of

it--at least, that if we must have one, she should be handsome. But I

shall leave it wholly to my wife, to do what she will therein.

25th. Up as soon as I could see and to the office to write over fair

with Mr. Hater my last night's work, which I did by nine o'clock, and

got it signed, and so with Sir H. Cholmly, who come to me about his

business, to White Hall: and thither come also my Lord Bruncker: and we

by and by called in, and our paper read; and much discourse thereon by

Sir G. Carteret, my Lord Anglesey, Sir W. Coventry, and my Lord Ashly,

and myself: but I could easily discern that they none of them understood

the business; and the King at last ended it with saying lazily, "Why,"

says he, "after all this discourse, I now come to understand it; and

that is, that there can nothing be done in this more than is possible,"

which was so silly as I never heard: "and therefore," says he, "I would

have these gentlemen to do as much as possible to hasten the Treasurer's

accounts; and that is all." And so we broke up: and I confess I went

away ashamed, to see how slightly things are advised upon there. Here

I saw the Duke of Buckingham sit in Council again, where he was

re-admitted, it seems, the last Council-day: and it is wonderful to

see how this man is come again to his places, all of them, after the

reproach and disgrace done him: so that things are done in a most

foolish manner quite through. The Duke of Buckingham did second Sir W.

Coventry in the advising the King that he would not concern himself in

the owning or not owning any man's accounts, or any thing else, wherein

he had not the same satisfaction that would satisfy the Parliament;

saying, that nothing would displease the Parliament more than to find

him defending any thing that is not right, nor justifiable to the utmost

degree but methought he spoke it but very poorly. After this, I walked

up and down the Gallery till noon; and here I met with Bishop Fuller,

who, to my great joy, is made, which I did not hear before, Bishop

of Lincoln. At noon I took coach, and to Sir G. Carteret's, in

Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, to the house that is my Lord's, which my Lord lets

him have: and this is the first day of dining there. And there dined

with him and his lady my Lord Privy-seale, who is indeed a very sober

man; who, among other talk, did mightily wonder at the reason of the

growth of the credit of banquiers, since it is so ordinary a thing for

citizens to break, out of knavery. Upon this we had much discourse; and

I observed therein, to the honour of this City, that I have not heard of

one citizen of London broke in all this war, this plague, this fire,

and this coming up of the enemy among us; which he owned to be very

considerable.

[This remarkable fact is confirmed by Evelyn, in a letter to Sir

Samuel Tuke, September 27th, 1666. See "Correspondence," vol.

iii., p. 345, edit. 1879.]

After dinner I to the King's playhouse, my eyes being so bad since last

night's straining of them, that I am hardly able to see, besides the

pain which I have in them. The play was a new play; and infinitely full:

the King and all the Court almost there. It is "The Storme," a play

of Fletcher's;' which is but so-so, methinks; only there is a most

admirable dance at the end, of the ladies, in a military manner, which

indeed did please me mightily. So, it being a mighty wet day and night,

I with much ado got a coach, and, with twenty stops which he made, I got

him to carry me quite through, and paid dear for it, and so home, and

there comes my wife home from the Duke of York's playhouse, where she

hath been with my aunt and Kate Joyce, and so to supper, and betimes to

bed, to make amends for my last night's work and want of sleep.

26th. Up, and to my chamber, whither Jonas Moore comes, and, among other

things, after our business done, discoursing of matters of the office,

I shewed him my varnished things, which he says he can outdo much, and

tells me the mighty use of Napier's bones;

[John Napier or Neper (1550-1617), laird of Merchiston (now

swallowed up in the enlarged Edinburgh of to-day, although the old

castle still stands), and the inventor of logarithms. He published

his "Rabdologiae seu numerationis per virgulas libri duo" in 1617,

and the work was reprinted and translated into Italian (1623) and

Dutch (1626). In 1667 William Leybourn published "The Art of

Numbering by Speaking Rods, vulgarly termed Napier's Bones."]

so that I will have a pair presently. To the office, where busy all

the morning sitting, and at noon home to dinner, and then with my wife

abroad to the King's playhouse, to shew her yesterday's new play, which

I like as I did yesterday, the principal thing extraordinary being the

dance, which is very good. So to Charing Cross by coach, about my wife's

business, and then home round by London Wall, it being very dark and

dirty, and so to supper, and, for the ease of my eyes, to bed, having

first ended all my letters at the office.

27th. Up, and to the office, where very busy all the morning. While I

was busy at the Office, my wife sends for me to come home, and what was

it but to see the pretty girl which she is taking to wait upon her: and

though she seems not altogether so great a beauty as she had before told

me, yet indeed she is mighty pretty; and so pretty, that I find I shall

be too much pleased with it, and therefore could be contented as to my

judgement, though not to my passion, that she might not come, lest I may

be found too much minding her, to the discontent of my wife. She is

to come next week. She seems, by her discourse, to be grave beyond her

bigness and age, and exceeding well bred as to her deportment, having

been a scholar in a school at Bow these seven or eight years. To the

office again, my head running on this pretty girl, and there till noon,

when Creed and Sheres come and dined with me; and we had a great deal

of pretty discourse of the ceremoniousness of the Spaniards, whose

ceremonies are so many and so known, that, Sheres tells me, upon all

occasions of joy or sorrow in a Grandee's family, my Lord Embassador is

fain to send one with an 'en hora buena', if it be upon a marriage, or

birth of a child, or a 'pesa me', if it be upon the death of a child,

or so. And these ceremonies are so set, and the words of the compliment,

that he hath been sent from my Lord, when he hath done no more than send

in word to the Grandee that one was there from the Embassador; and he

knowing what was his errand, that hath been enough, and he never spoken

with him: nay, several Grandees having been to marry a daughter, have

wrote letters to my Lord to give him notice, and out of the greatness of

his wisdom to desire his advice, though people he never saw; and then my

Lord he answers by commending the greatness of his discretion in making

so good an alliance, &c., and so ends. He says that it is so far from

dishonour to a man to give private revenge for an affront, that the

contrary is a disgrace; they holding that he that receives an affront

is not fit to appear in the sight of the world till he hath revenged

himself; and therefore, that a gentleman there that receives an affront

oftentimes never appears again in the world till he hath, by some

private way or other, revenged himself: and that, on this account,

several have followed their enemies privately to the Indys, thence to

Italy, thence to France and back again, watching for an opportunity to

be revenged. He says my Lord was fain to keep a letter from the Duke of

York to the Queen of Spain a great while in his hands, before he could

think fit to deliver it, till he had learnt whether the Queen would

receive it, it being directed to his cozen. He says that many ladies in

Spain, after they are found to be with child, do never stir out of their

beds or chambers till they are brought to bed: so ceremonious they are

in that point also. He tells me of their wooing by serenades at the

window, and that their friends do always make the match; but yet that

they have opportunities to meet at masse at church, and there they make

love: that the Court there hath no dancing, nor visits at night to see

the King or Queen, but is always just like a cloyster, nobody stirring

in it: that my Lord Sandwich wears a beard now, turned up in the Spanish

manner. But that which pleases me most indeed is, that the peace which

he hath made with Spain is now printed here, and is acknowledged by all

the merchants to be the best peace that ever England had with them: and

it appears that the King thinks it so, for this is printed before the

ratification is gone over; whereas that with France and Holland was

not in a good while after, till copys come over of it in English out of

Holland and France, that it was a reproach not to have it printed here.

This I am mighty glad of; and is the first and only piece of good news,

or thing fit to be owned, that this nation hath done several years.

After dinner I to the office, and they gone, anon comes Pelling, and he

and I to Gray's Inne Fields, thinking to have heard Mrs. Knight sing at

her lodgings, by a friend's means of his;

[Mrs. Knight, a celebrated singer and mistress of Charles II. There

is in Waller's "Poems" a song sung by her to the queen on her

birthday. In her portrait, engraved by Faber, after Kneller, she is

represented in mourning, and in a devout posture before a crucifix.

Evelyn refers to her singing as incomparable, and adds that she had

"the greatest reach of any English woman; she had been lately

roaming in Italy, and was much improv'd in that quality" ("Diary,"

December 2nd, 1674).]

but we come too late; so must try another time. So lost our labour, and

I by coach home, and there to my chamber, and did a great deal of good

business about my Tangier accounts, and so with pleasure discoursing

with my wife of our journey shortly to Brampton, and of this little

girle, which indeed runs in my head, and pleases me mightily, though I

dare not own it, and so to supper and to bed.

28th. Up, having slept not so much to-night as I used to do, for my

thoughts being so full of this pretty little girle that is coming to

live with us, which pleases me mightily. All the morning at the Office,

busy upon an Order of Council, wherein they are mightily at a loss what

to advise about our discharging of seamen by ticket, there being no

money to pay their wages before January, only there is money to pay

them since January, provided by the Parliament, which will be a horrid

disgrace to the King and Crowne of England that no man shall reckon

himself safe, but where the Parliament takes care. And this did move Mr.

Wren at the table to-day to say, that he did believe if ever there be

occasion more to raise money, it will become here, as it is in Poland,

that there are two treasurers--one for the King, and the other for the

kingdom. At noon dined at home, and Mr. Hater with me, and Mr. Pierce,

the surgeon, dropped in, who I feared did come to bespeak me to be

godfather to his son, which I am unwilling now to be, having ended my

liking to his wife, since I find she paints. After dinner comes Sir Fr.

Hollis to me about business; and I with him by coach to the Temple, and

there I 'light; all the way he telling me romantic lies of himself and

his family, how they have been Parliamentmen for Grimsby, he and his

forefathers, this 140 years; and his father is now: and himself, at

this day, stands for to be, with his father, by the death of his

fellow-burgess; and that he believes it will cost him as much as it did

his predecessor, which was L300 in ale, and L52 in buttered ale; which

I believe is one of his devilish lies. Here I 'light and to the Duke of

York's playhouse, and there saw a piece of "Sir Martin Marrall," with

great delight, though I have seen it so often, and so home, and there

busy late, and so home to my supper and bed.

29th (Lord's day). Up, and put off first my summer's silk suit, and put

on a cloth one. Then to church, and so home to dinner, my wife and I

alone to a good dinner. All the afternoon talking in my chamber with my

wife, about my keeping a coach the next year, and doing some things to

my house, which will cost money--that is, furnish our best chamber

with tapestry, and other rooms with pictures. In the evening read

good books--my wife to me; and I did even my kitchen accounts. Then to

supper, and so to bed.

30th. By water to White Hall, there to a committee of Tangier, but they

not met yet, I went to St. James's, there thinking to have opportunity

to speak to the Duke of York about the petition I have to make to him

for something in reward for my service this war, but I did waive it.

Thence to White Hall, and there a Committee met, where little was done,

and thence to the Duke of York to Council, where we the officers of the

Navy did attend about the business of discharging the seamen by tickets,

where several of the Lords spoke and of our number none but myself,

which I did in such manner as pleased the King and Council. Speaking

concerning the difficulty of pleasing of seamen and giving them

assurance to their satisfaction that they should be paid their arrears

of wages, my Lord Ashly did move that an assignment for money on the

Act might be put into the hands of the East India Company, or City of

London, which he thought the seamen would believe. But this my Lord

Anglesey did very handsomely oppose, and I think did carry it that it

will not be: and it is indeed a mean thing that the King should so far

own his own want of credit as to borrow theirs in this manner. My Lord

Anglesey told him that this was the way indeed to teach the Parliament

to trust the King no more for the time to come, but to have a kingdom's

Treasurer distinct from the King's. Home at noon to dinner, where I

expected to have had our new girle, my wife's woman, but she is not yet

come. I abroad after dinner to White Hall, and there among other things

do hear that there will be musique to-morrow night before the King. So

to Westminster, where to the Swan.... and drank and away to the Hall,

and thence to Mrs. Martin's, to bespeak some linen, and there je did

avoir all with her, and drank, and away, having first promised my

goddaughter a new coat-her first coat. So by coach home, and there find

our pretty girl Willet come, brought by Mr. Batelier, and she is very

pretty, and so grave as I never saw a little thing in my life. Indeed

I think her a little too good for my family, and so well carriaged as I

hardly ever saw. I wish my wife may use her well. Now I begin to be

full of thought for my journey the next week, if I can get leave, to

Brampton. Tonight come and sat with me Mr. Turner and his wife and tell

me of a design of sending their son Franke to the East Indy Company's

service if they can get him entertainment, which they are promised by

Sir Andr. Rickard, which I do very well like of. So the company broke up

and to bed.