[Footnote 55: The account given of this by Charles's brother and

successor, is, that when the King's life was wholly despaired of,

and it was time to prepare for another world, two Bishops came to do

their function, who reading the prayers appointed in the Common

Prayer Book on that occasion, when they came to the place where

usually they exhort a sick person to make a confession of his sins,

the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who was one of them, advertised him,

IT WAS NOT OF OBLIGATION; and after a short exhortation, asked him

if he was sorry for his sins? which the King saying he was, the

Bishop pronounced the absolution, and then, asked him if he pleased

to receive the Sacrament? to which the King made no reply; and being

pressed by the Bishop several times, gave no other answer but that

it was time enough, or that he would think of it.

King James adds, that he stood all the while by the bedside, and

seeing the King would not receive the Sacrament from them, and

knowing his sentiments, he desired the company to stand a little

from the bed, and then asked the King whether he should send for a

priest, to which the King replied: "For God's sake, brother, do, and

lose no time." The Duke said he would bring one to him; but none

could be found except Father Huddleston, who had been so assistant

in the King's escape from Worcester; he was brought up a back

staircase, and the company were desired to withdraw, but he (the

Duke of York) not thinking fit that he should be left alone with the

King, desired the Earl of Bath, a Lord of the Bedchamber, and the

Earl of Feversham, Captain of the Guard, should stay; the rest being

gone, Father Huddleston was introduced, and administered the

Sacrament.--"Life of James II."]

Thus died King Charles II., of a vigorous and robust constitution, and

in all appearance promising a long life. He was a prince of many

virtues, and many great imperfections; debonair, easy of access, not

bloody nor cruel; his countenance fierce, his voice great, proper of

person, every motion became him; a lover of the sea, and skillful in

shipping; not affecting other studies, yet he had a laboratory, and knew

of many empirical medicines, and the easier mechanical mathematics; he

loved planting and building, and brought in a politer way of living,

which passed to luxury and intolerable expense. He had a particular

talent in telling a story, and facetious passages, of which he had

innumerable; this made some buffoons and vicious wretches too

presumptuous and familiar, not worthy the favor they abused. He took

delight in having a number of little spaniels follow him and lie in his

bedchamber, where he often suffered the bitches to puppy and give suck,

which rendered it very offensive, and indeed made the whole court nasty

and stinking. He would doubtless have been an excellent prince, had he

been less addicted to women, who made him uneasy, and always in want to

supply their immeasurable profusion, to the detriment of many indigent

persons who had signally served both him and his father. He frequently

and easily changed favorites to his great prejudice.

As to other public transactions, and unhappy miscarriages, 'tis not

here I intend to number them; but certainly never had King more glorious

opportunities to have made himself, his people, and all Europe happy,

and prevented innumerable mischiefs, had not his too easy nature

resigned him to be managed by crafty men, and some abandoned and profane

wretches who corrupted his otherwise sufficient parts, disciplined as he

had been by many afflictions during his banishment, which gave him much

experience and knowledge of men and things; but those wicked creatures

took him from off all application becoming so great a King. The history

of his reign will certainly be the most wonderful for the variety of

matter and accidents, above any extant in former ages: the sad tragical

death of his father, his banishment and hardships, his miraculous

restoration, conspiracies against him, parliaments, wars, plagues,

fires, comets, revolutions abroad happening in his time, with a thousand

other particulars. He was ever kind to me, and very gracious upon all

occasions, and therefore I cannot without ingratitude but deplore his

loss, which for many respects, as well as duty, I do with all my soul.

His Majesty being dead, the Duke, now King James II., went immediately

to Council, and before entering into any business, passionately

declaring his sorrow, told their Lordships, that since the succession

had fallen to him, he would endeavor to follow the example of his

predecessor in his clemency and tenderness to his people; that, however

he had been misrepresented as affecting arbitrary power, they should

find the contrary; for that the laws of England had made the King as

great a monarch as he could desire; that he would endeavor to maintain

the Government both in Church and State, as by law established, its

principles being so firm for monarchy, and the members of it showing

themselves so good and loyal subjects;[56] and that, as he would never

depart from the just rights and prerogatives of the Crown, so he would

never invade any man's property; but as he had often adventured his life

in defense of the nation, so he would still proceed, and preserve it in

all its lawful rights and liberties.

[Footnote 56: This is the substance (and very nearly the words

employed) of what is stated by King James II. in the MS. printed in

his life; but in that MS. are some words which Evelyn has omitted.

For example, after speaking of the members of the Church of England

as good and loyal subjects, the King adds, "AND THEREFORE I SHALL

ALWAYS TAKE CARE TO DEFEND AND SUPPORT IT." James then goes on to

say, that being desired by some present to allow copies to be taken,

he said he had not committed it to writing; on which Mr. Finch (then

Solicitor-General and afterward Earl of Aylesford) replied, that

what his Majesty had said had made so deep an impression on him,

that he believed he could repeat the very words, and if his Majesty

would permit him, he would write them down, which the King agreeing

to, he went to a table and wrote them down, and this being shown to

the King, he approved of it, and it was immediately published. The

King afterward proceeds to say: "No one can wonder that Mr. Finch

should word the speech as strong as he could in favor of the

Established Religion, nor that the King in such a hurry should pass

it over without reflection; for though his Majesty intended to

promise both security to their religion and protection to their

persons, he was afterward convinced it had been better expressed by

assuring them he never would endeavor to alter the Established

Religion, than that he would endeavor to preserve it, and that he

would rather support and defend the professors of it, than the

religion itself; they could not expect he should make a conscience

of supporting what in his conscience he thought erroneous: his

engaging not to molest the professors of it, nor to deprive them or

their successors of any spiritual dignity, revenue, or employment,

but to suffer the ecclesiastical affairs to go on in the track they

were in, was all they could wish or desire from a Prince of a

different persuasion; but having once approved that way of

expressing it which Mr. Finch had made choice of, he thought it

necessary not to vary from it in the declarations or speeches he

made afterward, not doubting but the world would understand it in

the meaning he intended.----'Tis true, afterward IT WAS pretended

he kept not up to this engagement; but had they deviated no further

from the duty and allegience which both nature and repeated oath

obliged them to, THAN HE DID FROM HIS WORD, they had still remained

as happy a people as they really were during his short reign in

England."--"Life of James II.," ii. 435. The words printed in small

caps in this extract are from the interlineations of the son of King

James II.]

This being the substance of what he said, the Lords desired it might be

published, as containing matter of great satisfaction to a jealous

people upon this change, which his Majesty consented to. Then were the

Council sworn, and a Proclamation ordered to be published that all

officers should continue in their stations, that there might be no

failure of public justice, till his further pleasure should be known.

Then the King rose, the Lords accompanying him to his bedchamber, where,

while he reposed himself, tired indeed as he was with grief and

watching, they returned again into the Council chamber to take order for

the PROCLAIMING his Majesty, which (after some debate) they consented

should be in the very form his grandfather, King James I., was, after

the death of Queen Elizabeth; as likewise that the Lords, etc., should

proceed in their coaches through the city for the more solemnity of it.

Upon this was I, and several other gentlemen waiting in the Privy

gallery, admitted into the Council chamber to be witness of what was

resolved on. Thence with the Lords, Lord Marshal and Heralds, and other

Crown officers being ready, we first went to Whitehall gate, where the

Lords stood on foot bareheaded, while the Herald proclaimed his

Majesty's title to the Imperial Crown and succession according to the

form, the trumpets and kettledrums having first sounded three times,

which ended with the people's acclamations. Then a herald called the

Lords' coaches according to rank, myself accompanying the solemnity in

my Lord Cornwallis's coach, first to Temple Bar, where the Lord Mayor

and his brethren met us on horseback, in all their formalities, and

proclaimed the King; hence to the Exchange in Cornhill, and so we

returned in the order we set forth. Being come to Whitehall, we all went

and kissed the King and Queen's hands. He had been on the bed, but was

now risen and in his undress. The Queen was in bed in her apartment, but

put forth her hand, seeming to be much afflicted, as I believe she was,

having deported herself so decently upon all occasions since she came

into England, which made her universally beloved.

Thus concluded this sad and not joyful day.

I can never forget the inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gaming, and

all dissoluteness, and as it were total forgetfulness of God (it being

Sunday evening), which this day se'nnight I was witness of, the King

sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, and

Mazarin, etc., a French boy singing love songs[57] in that glorious

gallery, while about twenty of the great courtiers and other dissolute

persons were at Basset round a large table, a bank of at least 2,000 in

gold before them; upon which two gentlemen, who were with me, made

reflections with astonishment. Six days after, was all in the dust.

[Footnote 57: _Ante_, p. 204.]

It was enjoined that those who put on mourning should wear it as for a

father, in the most solemn manner.

10th February, 1685. Being sent to by the Sheriff of the County to

appear and assist in proclaiming the King, I went the next day to

Bromley, where I met the Sheriff and the Commander of the Kentish Troop,

with an appearance, I suppose, of about 500 horse, and innumerable

people, two of his Majesty's trumpets, and a Sergeant with other

officers, who having drawn up the horse in a large field near the town,

marched thence, with swords drawn, to the market place, where, making a

ring, after sound of trumpets and silence made, the High Sheriff read

the proclaiming titles to his bailiff, who repeated them aloud, and

then, after many shouts of the people, his Majesty's health being drunk

in a flint glass of a yard long, by the Sheriff, Commander, Officers,

and chief gentlemen, they all dispersed, and I returned.

13th February, 1685. I passed a fine on selling of Honson Grange in

Staffordshire, being about £20 per annum, which lying so great a

distance, I thought fit to part with it to one Burton, a farmer there.

It came to me as part of my daughter-in-law's portion, this being but a

fourth part of what was divided between the mother and three sisters.

14th February, 1685. The King was this night very obscurely buried in a

vault under Henry VII.'s Chapel at Westminster, without any manner of

pomp, and soon forgotten after all this vanity, and the face of the

whole Court was exceedingly changed into a more solemn and moral

behavior; the new King affecting neither profaneness nor buffoonery. All

the great officers broke their staves over the grave, according to form.

15th February, 1685. Dr. Tenison preached to the household. The second

sermon should have been before the King; but he, to the great grief of

his subjects, did now, for the first time, go to mass publicly in the

little Oratory at the Duke's lodgings, the doors being set wide open.

16th February, 1685. I dined at Sir Robert Howard's, auditor of the

exchequer, a gentleman pretending to all manner of arts and sciences,

for which he had been the subject of comedy, under the name of Sir

Positive; not ill-natured, but insufferably boasting. He was son to the

late Earl of Berkshire.

17th February, 1685. This morning his Majesty restored the staff and key

to Lord Arlington, Chamberlain; to Mr. Savell, Vice-chamberlain; to

Lords Newport and Maynard, Treasurer and Comptroller of the household.

Lord Godolphin made Chamberlain to the Queen; Lord Peterborough groom of

the stole, in place of the Earl of Bath; the Treasurer's staff to the

Earl of Rochester; and his brother, the Earl of Clarendon, Lord Privy

Seal, in the place of the Marquis of Halifax, who was made President of

the Council; the Secretaries of State remaining as before.

19th February, 1685. The Lord Treasurer and the other new officers were

sworn at the Chancery Bar and the exchequer.

The late King having the revenue of excise, customs, and other late

duties granted for his life only, they were now farmed and let to

several persons, upon an opinion that the late King might let them for

three years after his decease; some of the old commissioners refused to

act. The lease was made but the day before the King died;[58] the major

part of the Judges (but, as some think, not the best lawyers),

pronounced it legal, but four dissented.

[Footnote 58: James, in his Life, makes no mention of this lease,

but only says HE continued to collect them, which conduct was not

blamed; but, on the contrary, he was thanked for it, in an address

from the Middle Temple, penned by Sir Bartholomew Shore, and

presented by Sir Humphrey Mackworth, carrying great authority with

it; nor did the Parliament find fault.]

The clerk of the closet had shut up the late King's private oratory next

the Privy-chamber above, but the King caused it to be opened again, and

that prayers should be said as formerly.

22d February, 1685. Several most useful tracts against Dissenters,

Papists and Fanatics, and resolutions of cases were now published by the

London divines.

[Sidenote: LONDON]

4th March, 1685. ASH WEDNESDAY. After evening prayers, I went to London.

5th March, 1685. To my grief, I saw the new pulpit set up in the Popish

Oratory at Whitehall for the Lent preaching, mass being publicly said,

and the Romanists swarming at Court with greater confidence than had

ever been seen in England since the Reformation, so that everybody grew

jealous as to what this would tend.

A Parliament was now summoned, and great industry used to obtain

elections which might promote the Court interest, most of the

corporations being now, by their new charters, empowered to make what

returns of members they pleased.

There came over divers envoys and great persons to condole the death of

the late King, who were received by the Queen-Dowager on a bed of

mourning, the whole chamber, ceiling and floor, hung with black, and

tapers were lighted, so as nothing could be more lugubrious and solemn.

The Queen-Consort sat under a state on a black foot-cloth, to entertain

the circle (as the Queen used to do), and that very decently.

6th March, 1685. Lent preachers continued as formerly in the Royal

Chapel.

7th March, 1685. My daughter, Mary, was taken with smallpox, and there

soon was found no hope of her recovery. A great affliction to me: but

God's holy will be done!

10th March, 1685. She received the blessed sacrament; after which,

disposing herself to suffer what God should determine to inflict, she

bore the remainder of her sickness with extraordinary patience and

piety, and more than ordinary resignation and blessed frame of mind. She

died the 14th, to our unspeakable sorrow and affliction, and not to

our's only, but that of all who knew her, who were many of the best

quality, greatest and most virtuous persons. The justness of her

stature, person, comeliness of countenance, gracefulness of motion,

unaffected, though more than ordinarily beautiful, were the least of her

ornaments compared with those of her mind. Of early piety, singularly

religious, spending a part of every day in private devotion, reading,

and other virtuous exercises; she had collected and written out many of

the most useful and judicious periods of the books she read in a kind of

common-place, as out of Dr. Hammond on the New Testament, and most of

the best practical treatises. She had read and digested a considerable

deal of history, and of places. The French tongue was as familiar to her

as English; she understood Italian, and was able to render a laudable

account of what she read and observed, to which assisted a most faithful

memory and discernment; and she did make very prudent and discreet

reflections upon what she had observed of the conversations among which

she had at any time been, which being continually of persons of the best

quality, she thereby improved. She had an excellent voice, to which she

played a thorough-bass on the harpsichord, in both which she arrived to

that perfection, that of the scholars of those two famous masters,

Signors Pietro and Bartholomeo, she was esteemed the best; for the

sweetness of her voice and management of it added such an agreeableness

to her countenance, without any constraint or concern, that when she

sung, it was as charming to the eye as to the ear; this I rather note,

because it was a universal remark, and for which so many noble and

judicious persons in music desired to hear her, the last being at Lord

Arundel's, at Wardour.

What shall I say, or rather not say, of the cheerfulness and

agreeableness of her humor? condescending to the meanest servant in the

family, or others, she still kept up respect, without the least pride.

She would often read to them, examine, instruct, and pray with them if

they were sick, so as she was exceedingly beloved of everybody. Piety

was so prevalent an ingredient in her constitution (as I may say), that

even among equals and superiors she no sooner became intimately

acquainted, but she would endeavor to improve them, by insinuating

something religious, and that tended to bring them to a love of

devotion; she had one or two confidants with whom she used to pass whole

days in fasting, reading, and prayers, especially before the monthly

communion, and other solemn occasions. She abhorred flattery, and,

though she had abundance of wit, the raillery was so innocent and

ingenious that it was most agreeable; she sometimes would see a play,

but since the stage grew licentious, expressed herself weary of them,

and the time spent at the theater was an unaccountable vanity. She never

played at cards without extreme importunity and for the company; but

this was so very seldom, that I cannot number it among anything she

could name a fault.

No one could read prose or verse better or with more judgment; and as

she read, so she wrote, not only most correct orthography, with that

maturity of judgment and exactness of the periods, choice of

expressions, and familiarity of style, that some letters of hers have

astonished me and others, to whom she has occasionally written. She had

a talent of rehearsing any comical part or poem, as to them she might be

decently free with; was more pleasing than heard on the theater; she

danced with the greatest grace I had ever seen, and so would her master

say, who was Monsieur Isaac; but she seldom showed that perfection, save

in the gracefulness of her carriage, which was with an air of sprightly

modesty not easily to be described. Nothing affected, but natural and

easy as well in her deportment as in her discourse, which was always

material, not trifling, and to which the extraordinary sweetness of her

tone, even in familiar speaking, was very charming. Nothing was so

pretty as her descending to play with little children, whom she would

caress and humor with great delight. But she most affected to be with

grave and sober men, of whom she might learn something, and improve

herself. I have been assisted by her in reading and praying by me;

comprehensive of uncommon notions, curious of knowing everything to some

excess, had I not sometimes repressed it.

Nothing was so delightful to her as to go into my Study, where she would

willingly have spent whole days, for as I said she had read abundance of

history, and all the best poets, even Terence, Plautus, Homer, Virgil,

Horace, Ovid; all the best romancers and modern poems; she could compose

happily and put in pretty symbols, as in the "_Mundus Muliebris_,"

wherein is an enumeration of the immense variety of the modes and

ornaments belonging to the sex. But all these are vain trifles to the

virtues which adorned her soul; she was sincerely religious, most

dutiful to her parents, whom she loved with an affection tempered with

great esteem, so as we were easy and free, and never were so well

pleased as when she was with us, nor needed we other conversation; she

was kind to her sisters, and was still improving them by her constant

course of piety. Oh, dear, sweet, and desirable child, how shall I part

with all this goodness and virtue without the bitterness of sorrow and

reluctancy of a tender parent! Thy affection, duty and love to me was

that of a friend as well as a child. Nor less dear to thy mother, whose

example and tender care of thee was unparalleled, nor was thy return to

her less conspicuous. Oh! how she mourns thy loss! how desolate hast

thou left us! To the grave shall we both carry thy memory! God alone (in

whose bosom thou art at rest and happy!) give us to resign thee and all

our contentments (for thou indeed wert all in this world) to his blessed

pleasure! Let him be glorified by our submission, and give us grace to

bless him for the graces he implanted in thee, thy virtuous life, pious

and holy death, which is indeed the only comfort of our souls, hastening

through the infinite love and mercy of the Lord Jesus to be shortly with

thee, dear child, and with thee and those blessed saints like thee,

glorify the Redeemer of the world to all eternity! Amen.

It was in the 19th year of her age that this sickness happened to her.

An accident contributed to this disease; she had an apprehension of it

in particular, which struck her but two days before she came home, by an

imprudent gentlewoman whom she went with Lady Falkland to visit, who,

after they had been a good while in the house, told them she has a

servant sick of the smallpox (who indeed died the next day): this my

poor child acknowledged made an impression on her spirits. There were

four gentlemen of quality offering to treat with me about marriage, and

I freely gave her her own choice, knowing her discretion. She showed

great indifference to marrying at all, for truly, says she to her mother

(the other day), were I assured of your life and my dear father's, never

would I part from you; I love you and this home, where we serve God,

above all things, nor ever shall I be so happy; I know and consider the

vicissitudes of the world, I have some experience of its vanities, and

but for decency more than inclination, and that you judge it expedient

for me, I would not change my condition, but rather add the fortune you

design me to my sisters, and keep up the reputation of our family. This

was so discreetly and sincerely uttered that it could not but proceed

from an extraordinary child, and one who loved her parents beyond

example.

The Diary of John Evelyn (Volume 2 of 2) · 第 19 / 33 段