maid up, and rising herself, to go with her coach abroad, to gather
May-dew, which she did, and I troubled for it, for fear of any hurt,
going abroad so betimes, happening to her; but I to sleep again, and she
come home about six, and to bed again all well, and I up and with Mr.
Gibson by coach to St. James's, and thence to White Hall, where the
Duke of York met the Office, and there discoursed of several things,
particularly the Instructions of Commanders of ships. But here happened
by chance a discourse of the Council of Trade, against which the Duke of
York is mightily displeased, and particularly Mr. Child, against whom he
speaking hardly, Captain Cox did second the Duke of York, by saying
that he was talked of for an unfayre dealer with masters of ships, about
freight: to which Sir T. Littleton very hotly and foolishly replied
presently, that he never heard any honest man speak ill of Child; to
which the Duke of York did make a smart reply, and was angry; so as I
was sorry to hear it come so far, and that I, by seeming to assent to
Cox, might be observed too much by Littleton, though I said nothing
aloud, for this must breed great heart-burnings. After this meeting
done, the Duke of York took the Treasurers into his closet to chide
them, as Mr. Wren tells me; for that my Lord Keeper did last night at
the Council say, when nobody was ready to say any thing against the
constitution of the Navy, that he did believe the Treasurers of the Navy
had something to say, which was very foul on their part, to be parties
against us. They being gone, Mr. Wren [and I] took boat, thinking to
dine with my Lord of Canterbury; but, when we come to Lambeth, the gate
was shut, which is strictly done at twelve o'clock, and nobody comes in
afterwards: so we lost our labour, and therefore back to White Hall,
and thence walked my boy Jacke with me, to my Lord Crew, whom I have
not seen since he was sick, which is eight months ago, I think and there
dined with him: he is mightily broke. A stranger a country gentleman,
was with him: and he pleased with my discourse accidentally about the
decay of gentlemen's families in the country, telling us that the old
rule was, that a family might remain fifty miles from London one hundred
years, one hundred miles from London two hundred years, and so farther,
or nearer London more or less years. He also told us that he hath heard
his father say, that in his time it was so rare for a country gentleman
to come to London, that, when he did come, he used to make his will
before he set out. Thence: to St. James's, and there met the Duke of
York, who told me, with great content, that he did now think he should
master our adversaries, for that the King did tell him that he was;
satisfied in the constitution of the Navy, but that it was well to give
these people leave to object against it, which they having not done, he
did give order to give warrant to the Duke of York to direct Sir Jeremy
Smith to be a Commissioner of the Navy in the room of Pen; which, though
he be an impertinent fellow, yet I am glad of it, it showing that the
other side is not so strong as it was: and so, in plain terms, the
Duke of York did tell me, that they were every day losing ground; and
particularly that he would take care to keep out Child: at all which I
am glad, though yet I dare not think myself secure, as the King may
yet be wrought upon by these people to bring changes in our Office, and
remove us, ere it be long. Thence I to White Hall, an there took boat
to Westminster, and to Mrs. Martin's, who is not come to town from her
husband at Portsmouth. So drank only at Cragg's with Doll, and so to the
Swan, and there baiser a new maid that is there, and so to White Hall
again, to a Committee of Tangier, where I see all things going to rack
in the business of the Corporation, and consequently in the place, by
Middleton's going. Thence walked a little with Creed, who tells me he
hears how fine my horses and coach are, and advises me to avoid being
noted for it, which I was vexed to hear taken notice of, it being what
I feared and Povy told me of my gold-lace sleeves in the Park yesterday,
which vexed me also, so as to resolve never to appear in Court with
them, but presently to have them taken off, as it is fit I should, and
so to my wife at Unthanke's, and coach, and so called at my tailor's to
that purpose, and so home, and after a little walk in the garden, home
to supper and to bed.
11th. My wife again up by four o'clock, to go to gather May-dew; and so
back home by seven, to bed, and by and by I up and to the office, where
all the morning, and dined at noon at home with my people, and so all
the afternoon. In the evening my wife and I all alone, with the boy,
by water, up as high as Putney almost, with the tide, and back again,
neither staying going nor coming; but talking, and singing, and reading
a foolish copy of verses upon my Lord Mayor's entertaining of all the
bachelors, designed in praise to my Lord Mayor, and so home and to the
office a little, and then home to bed, my eyes being bad. Some trouble
at Court for fear of the Queen's miscarrying; she being, as they all
conclude, far gone with child.
12th. Up, and to Westminster Hall, where the term is, and this the first
day of my being there, and here by chance met Roger Pepys, come to town
the last night: I was glad to see him. After some talk with him and
others, and among others Sir Charles Harbord and Sidney Montagu, the
latter of whom is to set out to-morrow towards Flanders and Italy, I
invited them to dine with me to-morrow, and so to Mrs. Martin's lodging,
who come to town last night, and there je did hazer her, she having been
a month, I think, at Portsmouth with her husband, newly come home
from the Streights. But, Lord! how silly the woman talks of her great
entertainment there, and how all the gentry come to visit her, and that
she believes her husband is worth L6 or L700, which nevertheless I am
glad of, but I doubt they will spend it a fast. Thence home, and after
dinner my wife and I to the Duke of York's playhouse, and there, in
the side balcony, over against the musick, did hear, but not see, a
new play, the first day acted, "The Roman Virgin," an old play, and but
ordinary, I thought; but the trouble of my eyes with the light of the
candles did almost kill me. Thence to my Lord Sandwich's, and there had
a promise from Sidney to come and dine with me to-morrow; and so my wife
and I home in our coach, and there find my brother John, as I looked
for, come to town from Ellington, where, among other things, he tell
me the first news that my [sister Jackson] is with child, and fat gone,
which I know not whether it did more trouble or please me, having
no great care for my friends to have children; though I love other
people's. So, glad to see him, we to supper, and so to bed.
13th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, it being a rainy
foul day. But at noon comes my Lord Hinchingbroke, and Sidney, and Sir
Charles Harbord, and Roger Pepys, and dined with me; and had a good
dinner, and very merry with; us all the afternoon, it being a farewell
to Sidney; and so in the evening they away, and I to my business at the
Office and so to supper, and talk with my brother, and so to bed.
14th. Up, and to St. James's to the Duke of York, and thence to White
Hall, where we met about office business, and then at noon with Mr. Wren
to Lambeth, to dinner with the Archbishop of Canterbury; the first time
I was ever there and I have long longed for it; where a noble house, and
well furnished with good pictures and furniture, and noble attendance
in good order, and great deal of company, though an ordinary day; and
exceeding great cheer, no where better, or so much, that ever I think
I saw, for an ordinary table: and the Bishop mighty kind to me,
particularly desiring my company another time, when less company there.
Most of the company gone, and I going, I heard by a gentleman of a
sermon that was to be there; and so I staid to hear it, thinking it
serious, till by and by the gentleman told me it was a mockery, by one
Cornet Bolton, a very gentleman-like man, that behind a chair did pray
and preach like a Presbyter Scot that ever I heard in my life, with all
the possible imitation in grimaces and voice. And his text about the
hanging up their harps upon the willows: and a serious good sermon too,
exclaiming against Bishops, and crying up of my good Lord Eglinton, a
till it made us all burst; but I did wonder to have the Bishop at this
time to make himself sport with things of this kind, but I perceive it
was shewn him as a rarity; and he took care to have the room-door shut,
but there were about twenty gentlemen there, and myself, infinitely
pleased with the novelty. So over to White Hall, to a little Committee
of Tangier; and thence walking in the Gallery, I met Sir Thomas Osborne,
who, to my great content, did of his own accord fall into discourse with
me, with so much professions of value and respect, placing the whole
virtue of the Office of the Navy upon me, and that for the Comptroller's
place, no man in England was fit for it but me, when Sir J. Minnes, as
he says it is necessary, is removed: but then he knows not what to do
for a man in my place; and in discourse, though I have no mind to the
other, I did bring in Tom Hater to be the fittest man in the world
for it, which he took good notice of. But in the whole I was mightily
pleased, reckoning myself now fifty per cent. securer in my place than
I did before think myself to be. Thence to Unthanke's, and there find
my wife, but not dressed, which vexed me, because going to the Park,
it being a most pleasant day after yesterday's rain, which lays all
the dust, and most people going out thither, which vexed me. So home,
sullen; but then my wife and I by water, with my brother, as high as
Fulham, talking and singing, and playing the rogue with the Western
barge-men, about the women of Woolwich, which mads them, an so back home
to supper and to bed.
15th. Up, and at the Office all the morning. Dined at home and Creed
with me home, and I did discourse about evening some reckonings with him
in the afternoon; but I could not, for my eyes, do it, which troubled
me, and vexed him that would not; but yet we were friends, I advancing
him more without it, and so to walk all the afternoon together in
the garden; and I perceive still he do expect a change in of matters,
especially as to religion, and fits himself for it by professing himself
for it in his discourse. He gone, I to my business at my Office, and so
at night home to supper, and to bed.
16th (Lord's day). My wife and I at church, our pew filled with Mrs.
Backewell, and six more that she brought with her, which vexed me at
her confidence. Dined at home and W. Batelier with us, and I all the
afternoon drawing up a foul draught of my petition to the Duke of
York, about my eyes, for leave to spend three or four months out of the
Office, drawing it so as to give occasion to a voyage abroad which I
did, to my pretty good liking; and then with my wife to Hyde Park, where
a good deal of company, and good weather, and so home to supper and to
bed.
17th. Up, and to several places doing business, and the home to
dinner, and then my wife and I and brother John by coach to the King's
playhouse, and saw "The Spanish Curate" revived, which is a pretty good
play, but my eyes troubled with seeing it, mightily. Thence carried them
and Mr. Gibson, who met me at my Lord Brouncker's with a fair copy of my
petition, which I thought to shew the Duke of York this night, but could
not, and therefore carried them to the Park, where they had never been,
and so home to supper and to bed. Great the news now of the French
taking St. Domingo, in Spaniola, from the Spaniards, which troubles
us, that they should have it, and have the honour of taking it, when we
could not.
18th. Up, and to St. James's and other places, and then to the office,
where all the morning. At noon home and dined in my wife's chamber, she
being much troubled with the tooth-ake, and I staid till a surgeon of
hers come, one Leeson, who hath formerly drawn her mouth, and he advised
her to draw it: so I to the Office, and by and by word is come that
she hath drawn it, which pleased me, it being well done. So I home, to
comfort her, and so back to the office till night, busy, and so home to
supper and to bed.
19th. With my coach to St. James's; and there finding the Duke of York
gone to muster his men, in Hyde Park, I alone with my boy thither, and
there saw more, walking out of my coach as other gentlemen did, of a
soldier's trade, than ever I did in my life: the men being mighty fine,
and their Commanders, particularly the Duke of Monmouth; but me-thought
their trade but very easy as to the mustering of their men, and the men
but indifferently ready to perform what was commanded, in the handling
of their arms. Here the news was first talked of Harry Killigrew's being
wounded in nine places last night, by footmen, in the highway, going
from the Park in a hackney-coach towards Hammersmith, to his house at
Turnham Greene: they being supposed to be my Lady Shrewsbury's men, she
being by, in her coach with six horses; upon an old grudge of his saying
openly that he had lain with her. Thence by and by to White Hall, and
there I waited upon the King and Queen all dinner-time, in the Queen's
lodgings, she being in her white pinner and apron, like a woman with
child; and she seemed handsomer plain so, than dressed. And by and by,
dinner done, I out, and to walk in the Gallery, for the Duke of York's
coming out; and there, meeting Mr. May, he took me down about four
o'clock to Mr. Chevins's lodgings, and all alone did get me a dish of
cold chickens, and good wine; and I dined like a prince, being before
very hungry and empty. By and by the Duke of York comes, and readily
took me to his closet, and received my petition, and discoursed about my
eyes, and pitied me, and with much kindness did give me his consent to
be absent, and approved of my proposition to go into Holland to observe
things there, of the Navy; but would first ask the King's leave, which
he anon did, and did tell me that the King would be a good master to
me, these were his words, about my eyes, and do like of my going into
Holland, but do advise that nobody should know of my going thither, but
pretend that I did go into the country somewhere, which I liked well.
Glad of this, I home, and thence took out my wife, and to Mr. Holliard's
about a swelling in her cheek, but he not at home, and so round by
Islington and eat and drink, and so home, and after supper to bed. In
discourse this afternoon, the Duke of York did tell me that he was the
most amazed at one thing just now, that ever he was in his life, which
was, that the Duke of Buckingham did just now come into the Queen's
bed-chamber, where the King was, and much mixed company, and among
others, Tom Killigrew, the father of Harry, who was last night
wounded so as to be in danger of death, and his man is quite dead; and
[Buckingham] there in discourse did say that he had spoke with some one
that was by (which all the world must know that it must be his whore, my
Lady Shrewsbury), who says that they did not mean to hurt, but beat him,
and that he did run first at them with his sword; so that he do hereby
clearly discover that he knows who did it, and is of conspiracy with
them, being of known conspiracy with her, which the Duke of York did
seem to be pleased with, and said it might, perhaps, cost him his life
in the House of Lords; and I find was mightily pleased with it, saying
it was the most impudent thing, as well as the most foolish, that ever
he knew man do in all his life.
20th. Up and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon, the whole
Office--Brouncker, J. Minnes, T. Middleton, Samuel Pepys, and Captain
Cox to dine with the Parish, at the Three Tuns, this day being
Ascension-day, where exceeding good discourse among the merchants, and
thence back home, and after a little talk with my wife, to my office did
a great deal of business, and so with my eyes might weary, and my head
full of care how to get my accounts and business settled against my
journey, home to supper, and bed. Yesterday, at my coming home, I found
that my wife had, on a sudden, put away Matt upon some falling out, and
I doubt my wife did call her ill names by my wife's own discourse; but I
did not meddle to say anything upon it, but let her go, being not sorry,
because now we may get one that speaks French, to go abroad with us.
21st. I waited with the Office upon the Duke of York in the morning.
Dined at home, where Lewis Phillips the friend of his, dined with me. In
the afternoon at the Office. In the evening visited by Roger Pepys and
Philip Packer and so home.
22nd. Dined at home, the rest of the whole day at office.
23rd (Lord's day). Called up by Roger Pepys and his son who to church
with me, and then home to dinner. In the afternoon carried them to
Westminster, and myself to James's, where, not finding the Duke of York,
back home, and with my wife spent the evening taking the ayre about
Hackney, with great pleasure, and places we had never seen before.
24th. To White Hall, and there all the morning, and they home, and
giving order for some business and setting my brother to making a
catalogue of my books, I back again to W. Hewer to White Hall, where
I attended the Duke of York and was by him led to [the King], who
expressed great sense of my misfortune in my eyes, and concernment for
their recovery; and accordingly signified, not only his assent to desire
therein, but commanded me to give them rest summer, according to my late
petition to the Duke of York. W. Hewer and I dined alone at the Swan;
and thence having thus waited on the King, spent till four o'clock in
St. James's Park, when I met my wife at Unthanke's, and so home.
25th. Dined at home; and the rest of the day, morning and afternoon, at
the Office.
26th. To White Hall, where all the morning. Dined with Mr. Chevins, with
Alderman Backewell, and Spragg. The Court full of the news from
Captain Hubbert, of "The Milford," touching his being affronted in
the Streights, shot at, and having eight men killed him by a French
man-of-war, calling him "English dog," and commanding him to strike,
which he refused, and, as knowing himself much too weak for him, made
away from him. The Queen, as being supposed with child, fell ill, so as
to call for Madam Nun, Mr. Chevins's sister, and one of her women, from
dinner from us; this being the last day of their doubtfulness touching
her being with child; and they were therein well confirmed by her
Majesty's being well again before night. One Sir Edmund Bury Godfry, a
woodmonger and justice of Peace in Westminster, having two days since
arrested Sir Alexander Frazier for about L30 in firing, the bailiffs
were apprehended, committed to the porter's lodge, and there, by the
King's command, the last night severely whipped; from which the justice
himself very hardly escaped, to such an unusual degree was the King
moved therein. But he lies now in the lodge, justifying his act, as
grounded upon the opinion of several of the judges, and, among others,
my Lord Chief-Justice; which makes the King very angry with the
Chief-Justice, as they say; and the justice do lie and justify his act,
and says he will suffer in the cause for the people, and do refuse to
receive almost any nutriment. The effects of it may be bad to the Court.
Expected a meeting of Tangier this afternoon, but failed. So home, met
by my wife at Unthanke's.
27th. At the office all the morning, dined at home, Mr. Hollier with me.
Presented this day by Mr. Browne with a book of drawing by him, lately
printed, which cost me 20s. to him. In the afternoon to the Temple, to
meet with Auditor Aldworth about my interest account, but failed meeting
him. To visit my cozen Creed, and found her ill at home, being with
child, and looks poorly. Thence to her husband, at Gresham College, upon
some occasions of Tangier; and so home, with Sir John Bankes with me, to
Mark Lane.
28th. To St. James's, where the King's being with the Duke of York
prevented a meeting of the Tangier Commission. But, Lord! what a deal of
sorry discourse did I hear between the King and several Lords about him
here! but very mean methought. So with Creed to the Excise Office, and
back to White Hall, where, in the Park, Sir G. Carteret did give me an
account of his discourse lately, with the Commissioners of Accounts,
who except against many things, but none that I find considerable; among
others, that of the Officers of the Navy selling of the King's goods,
and particularly my providing him with calico flags, which having been
by order, and but once, when necessity, and the King's apparent profit,
justified it, as conformable to my particular duty, it will prove to my
advantage that it be enquired into. Nevertheless, having this morning
received from them a demand of an account of all monies within their
cognizance, received and issued by me, I was willing, upon this hint, to
give myself rest, by knowing whether their meaning therein might reach
only to my Treasurership for Tangier, or the monies employed on this
occasion. I went, therefore, to them this afternoon, to understand
what monies they meant, where they answered me, by saying, "The eleven
months' tax, customs, and prizemoney," without mentioning, any more than
I demanding, the service they respected therein; and so, without further
discourse, we parted, upon very good terms of respect, and with few
words, but my mind not fully satisfied about the monies they mean. At
noon Mr. Gibson and I dined at the Swan, and thence doing this at Brook
house, and thence caking at the Excise Office for an account of payment
of my tallies for Tangier, I home, and thence with my wife and brother
spent the evening on the water, carrying our supper with us, as high as
Chelsea; so home, making sport with the Westerne bargees, and my wife
and I singing, to my great content.
29th. The King's birth-day. To White Hall, where all very gay; and
particularly the Prince of Tuscany very fine, and is the first day of
his appearing out of mourning, since he come. I heard the Bishop of
Peterborough' preach but dully; but a good anthem of Pelham's. Home to
dinner, and then with my wife to Hyde Park, where all the evening; great
store of company, and great preparations by the Prince of Tuscany to
celebrate the night with fire-works, for the King's birth-day. And so
home.
30th (Whitsunday). By water to White Hall, and thence to Sir W.
Coventry, where all the morning by his bed-side, he being indisposed.
Our discourse was upon the notes I have lately prepared for Commanders'
Instructions; but concluded that nothing will render them effectual,
without an amendment in the choice of them, that they be seamen, and not
gentleman above the command of the Admiral, by the greatness of their
relations at Court. Thence to White Hall, and dined alone with Mr.
Chevins his sister: whither by and by come in Mr. Progers and Sir Thomas
Allen, and by and by fine Mrs. Wells, who is a great beauty; and there
I had my full gaze upon her, to my great content, she being a woman of
pretty conversation. Thence to the Duke of York, who, with the officers
of the Navy, made a good entrance on my draught of my new Instructions
to Commanders, as well expressing general [views] of a reformation among
them, as liking of my humble offers towards it. Thence being called
by my wife, Mr. Gibson and I, we to the Park, whence the rain suddenly
home.
31st. Up very betimes, and so continued all the morning with W. Hewer,
upon examining and stating my accounts, in order to the fitting myself
to go abroad beyond sea, which the ill condition of my eyes, and my
neglect for a year or two, hath kept me behindhand in, and so as to
render it very difficult now, and troublesome to my mind to do it; but I
this day made a satisfactory entrance therein. Dined at home, and in the
afternoon by water to White Hall, calling by the way at Michell's, where
I have not been many a day till just the other day, and now I met her
mother there and knew her husband to be out of town. And here je did
baiser elle, but had not opportunity para hazer some with her as I would
have offered if je had had it. And thence had another meeting with
the Duke of York, at White Hall, on yesterday's work, and made a good
advance: and so, being called by my wife, we to the Park, Mary Batelier,
and a Dutch gentleman, a friend of hers, being with us. Thence to "The
World's End," a drinking-house by the Park; and there merry, and so home
late.
And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own
eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer,
having done now so long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take
a pen in my hand; and, therefore, whatever comes of it, I must forbear:
and, therefore, resolve, from this time forward, to have it kept by my
people in long-hand, and must therefore be contented to set down no
more than is fit for them and all the world to know; or, if there be any
thing, which cannot be much, now my amours to Deb. are past, and my eyes
hindering me in almost all other pleasures, I must endeavour to keep
a margin in my book open, to add, here and there, a note in short-hand
with my own hand.
And so I betake myself to that course, which is almost as much as to see
myself go into my grave: for which, and all the discomforts that will
accompany my being blind, the good God prepare me!
May 31, 1669.
END OF THE DIARY.
PREFACE
[This moved, by the editor, to the end
where it seems to fit more comfortably.]
First issue of this edition June, 1896. Reprinted 1897.
In the present volume the Diary is completed, and we here take leave
of a writer who has done so much to interest and enlighten successive
generations of English readers, and who is now for the first time
presented to the world as he really drew his own portrait day by day.
No one who has followed the daily notes of Samuel Pepys from January,
1660, to May, 1669, but must feel sincere regret at their abrupt
conclusion, more particularly as the writer lays down his pen while in
an unhappy temper.
It is evident from the tone of his later utterances that Pepys thought
that he was going blind, a belief which was happily falsified. The
holiday tour in which Charles II. and James, Duke of York, took so much
interest appears to have had its desired effect in restoring the Diarist
to health.
The rest of his eventful life must be sought in the history of the
English Navy which he helped to form, and in his numerous letters,
which on some future occasion the present editor hopes to annotate. The
details to be obtained from these sources form, however, but a sorry
substitute for the words written in the solitude of his office by Pepys
for his own eye alone, and we cannot but feel how great is the world's
loss in that he never resumed the writing of his journal. All must
agree with Coleridge when he wrote on the margin of a copy of the Diary:
"Truly may it be said that this was a greater and more grievous loss to
the mind's eye of posterity than to the bodily organs of Pepys himself.
It makes me restless and discontented to think what a Diary equal in
minuteness and truth of portraiture to the preceding from 1669 to 1688
or 1690 would have been for the true causes, process and character of
the Revolution."