Produced by David Widger
THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A. F.R.S.
CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY
TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SHORTHAND MANUSCRIPT IN THE PEPYSIAN LIBRARY
MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE BY THE REV. MYNORS BRIGHT M.A. LATE FELLOW
AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE
(Unabridged)
WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE'S NOTES
EDITED WITH ADDITIONS BY
HENRY B. WHEATLEY F.S.A.
DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS.
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.