there was this: my Lord Viscount Falkland's Lady having been our
neighbor (as he was Treasurer of the Navy), she took so great an
affection to my daughter, that when they went back in the autumn to the
city, nothing would satisfy their incessant importunity but letting her
accompany my Lady, and staying some time with her; it was with the
greatest reluctance I complied. While she was there, my Lord being
musical, when I saw my Lady would not part with her till Christmas, I
was not unwilling she should improve the opportunity of learning of
Signor Pietro, who had an admirable way both of composure and teaching.
It was the end of February before I could prevail with my Lady to part
with her; but my Lord going into Oxfordshire to stand for Knight of the
Shire there, she expressed her wish to come home, being tired of the
vain and empty conversation of the town, the theaters, the court, and
trifling visits which consumed so much precious time, and made her
sometimes miss of that regular course of piety that gave her the
greatest satisfaction. She was weary of this life, and I think went not
thrice to Court all this time, except when her mother or I carried her.
She did not affect showing herself, she knew the Court well, and passed
one summer in it at Windsor with Lady Tuke, one of the Queen's women of
the bedchamber (a most virtuous relation of hers); she was not fond of
that glittering scene, now become abominably licentious, though there
was a design of Lady Rochester and Lady Clarendon to have made her a
maid of honor to the Queen as soon as there was a vacancy. But this she
did not set her heart upon, nor indeed on anything so much as the
service of God, a quiet and regular life, and how she might improve
herself in the most necessary accomplishments, and to which she was
arrived at so great a measure.
This is the little history and imperfect character of my dear child,
whose piety, virtue, and incomparable endowments deserve a monument more
durable than brass and marble. Precious is the memorial of the just.
Much I could enlarge on every period of this hasty account, but that I
ease and discharge my overcoming passion for the present, so many things
worthy an excellent Christian and dutiful child crowding upon me. Never
can I say enough, oh dear, my dear child, whose memory is so precious to
me!
This dear child was born at Wotton, in the same house and chamber in
which I first drew my breath, my wife having retired to my brother there
in the great sickness that year upon the first of that month, and the
very hour that I was born, upon the last: viz, October.
[Sidenote: SAYES COURT]
16th March, 1685. She was interred in the southeast end of the church at
Deptford, near her grandmother and several of my younger children and
relations. My desire was she should have been carried and laid among my
own parents and relations at Wotton, where I desire to be interred
myself, when God shall call me out of this uncertain transitory life,
but some circumstances did not permit it. Our vicar, Dr. Holden,
preached her funeral sermon on Phil. i. 21. "For to me to live is
Christ, and to die is gain," upon which he made an apposite discourse,
as those who heard it assured me (for grief suffered me not to be
present), concluding with a modest recital of her many virtues and
signal piety, so as to draw both tears and admiration from the hearers.
I was not altogether unwilling that something of this sort should be
spoken, for the edification and encouragement of other young people.
Divers noble persons honored her funeral, some in person, others
sending their coaches, of which there were six or seven with six horses,
viz, the Countess of Sunderland, Earl of Clarendon, Lord Godolphin, Sir
Stephen Fox, Sir William Godolphin, Viscount Falkland, and others. There
were distributed among her friends about sixty rings.
Thus lived, died, and was buried the joy of my life, and ornament of her
sex and of my poor family! God Almighty of his infinite mercy grant me
the grace thankfully to resign myself and all I have, or had, to his
divine pleasure, and in his good time, restoring health and comfort to
my family: "teach me so to number my days, that I may apply my heart to
wisdom," be prepared for my dissolution, and that into the hands of my
blessed Savior I may recommend my spirit! Amen!
On looking into her closet, it is incredible what a number of
collections she had made from historians, poets, travelers, etc., but,
above all, devotions, contemplations, and resolutions on these
contemplations, found under her hand in a book most methodically
disposed; prayers, meditations, and devotions on particular occasions,
with many pretty letters to her confidants; one to a divine (not named)
to whom she writes that he would be her ghostly father, and would not
despise her for her many errors and the imperfections of her youth, but
beg of God to give her courage to acquaint him with all her faults,
imploring his assistance and spiritual directions. I well remember she
had often desired me to recommend her to such a person; but I did not
think fit to do it as yet, seeing her apt to be scrupulous, and knowing
the great innocency and integrity of her life.
It is astonishing how one who had acquired such substantial and
practical knowledge in other ornamental parts of education, especially
music, both vocal and instrumental, in dancing, paying and receiving
visits, and necessary conversation, could accomplish half of what she
has left; but, as she never affected play or cards, which consume a
world of precious time, so she was in continual exercise, which yet
abated nothing of her most agreeable conversation. But she was a little
miracle while she lived, and so she died!
26th March, 1685. I was invited to the funeral of Captain Gunman, that
excellent pilot and seaman, who had behaved himself so gallantly in the
Dutch war. He died of a gangrene, occasioned by his fall from the pier
of Calais. This was the Captain of the yacht carrying the Duke (now
King) to Scotland, and was accused for not giving timely warning when
she split on the sands, where so many perished; but I am most confident
he was no ways guilty, either of negligence, or design, as he made
appear not only at the examination of the matter of fact, but in the
vindication he showed me, and which must needs give any man of reason
satisfaction. He was a sober, frugal, cheerful, and temperate man; we
have few such seamen left.
8th April, 1685. Being now somewhat composed after my great affliction,
I went to London to hear Dr. Tenison (it being on a Wednesday in Lent)
at Whitehall. I observed that though the King was not in his seat above
in the chapel, the Doctor made his three congees, which they were not
used to do when the late King was absent, making then one bowing only. I
asked the reason; it was said he had a special order so to do. The
Princess of Denmark was in the King's closet, but sat on the left hand
of the chair, the Clerk of the Closet standing by his Majesty's chair,
as if he had been present.
I met the Queen Dowager going now first from Whitehall to dwell at
Somerset House.
This day my brother of Wotton and Mr. Onslow were candidates for Surrey
against Sir Adam Brown and my cousin, Sir Edward Evelyn, and were
circumvented in their election by a trick of the Sheriff's, taking
advantage of my brother's party going out of the small village of
Leatherhead to seek shelter and lodging, the afternoon being
tempestuous, proceeding to the election when they were gone; they
expecting the next morning; whereas before and then they exceeded the
other party by many hundreds, as I am assured. The Duke of Norfolk led
Sir Edward Evelyn's and Sir Adam Brown's party. For this Parliament,
very mean and slight persons (some of them gentlemen's servants, clerks,
and persons neither of reputation nor interest) were set up; but the
country would choose my brother whether he would or no, and he missed it
by the trick above mentioned. Sir Adam Brown was so deaf, that he could
not hear one word. Sir Edward Evelyn was an honest gentleman, much in
favor with his Majesty.
[Sidenote: LONDON]
10th April, 1685. I went early to Whitehall to hear Dr. Tillotson, Dean
of Canterbury, preaching on Eccles. ix. 18. I returned in the evening,
and visited Lady Tuke, and found with her Sir George Wakeman, the
physician, whom I had seen tried and acquitted, among the plotters for
poisoning the late King, on the accusation of the famous Oates; and
surely I believed him guiltless.
14th April, 1685. According to my custom, I went to London to pass the
holy week.
17th April, 1685. GOOD FRIDAY. Dr. Tenison preached at the new church at
St. James, on 1 Cor. xvi. 22, upon the infinite love of God to us, which
he illustrated in many instances. The Holy Sacrament followed, at which
I participated. The Lord make me thankful! In the afternoon, Dr. Sprat,
Bishop of Rochester, preached in Whitehall chapel, the auditory very
full of Lords, the two Archbishops, and many others, now drawn to town
upon occasion of the coronation and ensuing Parliament. I supped with
the Countess of Sunderland and Lord Godolphin, and returned home.
23d April, 1685. Was the coronation of the King and Queen. The solemnity
was magnificent as is set forth in print. The Bishop of Ely preached;
but, to the sorrow of the people, no Sacrament, as ought to have been.
However, the King begins his reign with great expectations, and hopes of
much reformation as to the late vices and profaneness of both Court and
country. Having been present at the late King's coronation, I was not
ambitious of seeing this ceremony.
3d May, 1685. A young man preached, going chaplain with Sir J. Wiburn,
Governor of Bombay, in the East Indies.
7th May, 1685. I was in Westminster Hall when Oates, who had made such
a stir in the kingdom, on his revealing a plot of the Papists, and
alarmed several Parliaments, and had occasioned the execution of divers
priests, noblemen, etc., was tried for perjury at the King's bench; but,
being very tedious, I did not endeavor to see the issue, considering
that it would be published. Abundance of Roman Catholics were in the
hall in expectation of the most grateful conviction and ruin of a person
who had been so obnoxious to them, and as I verily believe, had done
much mischief and great injury to several by his violent and
ill-grounded proceedings; while he was at first so unreasonably blown up
and encouraged, that his insolence was no longer sufferable.
Mr. Roger L'Estrange (a gentleman whom I had long known, and a person of
excellent parts, abating some affectations) appearing first against the
Dissenters in several tracts, had now for some years turned his style
against those whom (by way of hateful distinction) they called Whigs and
Trimmers, under the title of "Observator," which came out three or four
days every week, in which sheets, under pretense to serve the Church of
England, he gave suspicion of gratifying another party, by several
passages which rather kept up animosities than appeased them, especially
now that nobody gave the least occasion.[59]
[Footnote 59: In the first Dutch war, while Evelyn was one of the
Commissioners for sick and wounded, L'Estrange in his "Gazette"
mentioned the barbarous usage of the Dutch prisoners of war:
whereupon Evelyn wrote him a very spirited letter, desiring that the
Dutch Ambassador (who was then in England) and his friends would
visit the prisoners, and examine their provisions; and he required
L'Estrange to publish that vindication in his next number.]
10th May, 1685. The Scots valuing themselves exceedingly to have been
the first Parliament called by his Majesty, gave the excise and customs
to him and his successors forever; the Duke of Queensberry making
eloquent speeches, and especially minding them of a speedy suppression
of those late desperate Field-Conventiclers who had done such unheard of
assassinations. In the meantime, elections for the ensuing Parliament in
England were thought to be very indirectly carried on in most places.
God grant a better issue of it than some expect!
16th May, 1685. Oates was sentenced to be whipped and pilloried with the
utmost severity.
21st May, 1685. I dined at my Lord Privy Seal's with Sir William
Dugdale, Garter King-at-Arms, author of the "MONASTICON" and other
learned works; he told me he was 82 years of age, and had his sight and
memory perfect. There was shown a draft of the exact shape and
dimensions of the crown the Queen had been crowned withal, together with
the jewels and pearls, their weight and value, which amounted to
£100,658 sterling, attested at the foot of the paper by the jeweler and
goldsmith who set them.
22d May, 1685. In the morning, I went with a French gentleman, and my
Lord Privy Seal to the House of Lords, where we were placed by his
Lordship next the bar, just below the bishops, very commodiously both
for hearing and seeing. After a short space, came in the Queen and
Princess of Denmark, and stood next above the archbishops, at the side
of the House on the right hand of the throne. In the interim, divers of
the Lords, who had not finished before, took the test and usual oaths,
so that her Majesty, the Spanish and other Ambassadors, who stood behind
the throne, heard the Pope and the worship of the Virgin Mary, etc.,
renounced very decently, as likewise the prayers which followed,
standing all the while. Then came in the King, the crown on his head,
and being seated, the Commons were introduced, and the House being full,
he drew forth a paper containing his speech, which he read distinctly
enough, to this effect: "That he resolved to call a Parliament from the
moment of his brother's decease, as the best means to settle all the
concerns of the nation, so as to be most easy and happy to himself and
his subjects; that he would confirm whatever he had said in his
declaration at the first Council concerning his opinion of the
principles of the Church of England, for their loyalty, and would defend
and support it, and preserve its government as by law now established;
that, as he would invade no man's property, so he would never depart
from his own prerogative; and, as he had ventured his life in defense of
the nation, so he would proceed to do still; that, having given this
assurance of his care of our religion (his word was YOUR religion) and
property (which he had not said by chance, but solemnly), so he doubted
not of suitable returns of his subjects' duty and kindness, especially
as to settling his revenue for life, for the many weighty necessities of
government, which he would not suffer to be precarious; that some might
possibly suggest that it were better to feed and supply him from time to
time only, out of their inclination to frequent Parliaments; but that
that would be a very improper method to take with him, since the best
way to engage him to meet oftener would be always to use him well, and
therefore he expected their compliance speedily, that this session being
but short, they might meet again to satisfaction."
At every period of this, the House gave loud shouts. Then he acquainted
them with that morning's news of Argyle's being landed in the West
Highlands of Scotland from Holland, and the treasonous declaration he
had published, which he would communicate to them, and that he should
take the best care he could it should meet with the reward it deserved,
not questioning the Parliament's zeal and readiness to assist him as he
desired; at which there followed another "_Vive le Roi_," and so his
Majesty retired.
So soon as the Commons were returned and had put themselves into a grand
committee, they immediately put the question, and unanimously voted the
revenue to his Majesty for life. Mr. Seymour made a bold speech against
many elections, and would have had those members who (he pretended) were
obnoxious, to withdraw, till they had cleared the matter of their being
legally returned; but no one seconded him. The truth is, there were many
of the new members whose elections and returns were universally
censured, many of them being persons of no condition, or interest, in
the nation, or places for which they served, especially in Devon,
Cornwall, Norfolk, etc., said to have been recommended by the Court, and
from the effect of the new charters changing the electors. It was
reported that Lord Bath carried down with him [into Cornwall] no fewer
than fifteen charters, so that some called him the Prince Elector:
whence Seymour told the House in his speech that if this was digested,
they might introduce what religion and laws they pleased, and that
though he never gave heed to the fears and jealousies of the people
before, he was now really apprehensive of Popery. By the printed list of
members of 505, there did not appear to be above 135 who had been in
former Parliaments, especially that lately held at Oxford.
In the Lords' House, Lord Newport made an exception against two or three
young Peers, who wanted some months, and some only four or five days, of
being of age.
The Popish Lords, who had been sometime before released from their
confinement about the plot, were now discharged of their impeachment, of
which I gave Lord Arundel of Wardour joy.
Oates, who had but two days before been pilloried at several places and
whipped at the cart's tail from Newgate to Aldgate, was this day placed
on a sledge, being not able to go by reason of so late scourging, and
dragged from prison to Tyburn, and whipped again all the way, which some
thought to be severe and extraordinary; but, if he was guilty of the
perjuries, and so of the death of many innocents (as I fear he was), his
punishment was but what he deserved. I chanced to pass just as execution
was doing on him. A strange revolution!
Note: there was no speech made by the Lord Keeper [Bridgman] after his
Majesty, as usual.
It was whispered he would not be long in that situation, and many
believe the bold Chief Justice Jefferies, who was made Baron of Wem, in
Shropshire, and who went thorough stitch in that tribunal, stands fair
for that office. I gave him joy the morning before of his new honor, he
having always been very civil to me.
24th May, 1685. We had hitherto not any rain for many months, so as the
caterpillars had already devoured all the winter fruit through the whole
land, and even killed several greater old trees. Such two winters and
summers I had never known.
4th June, 1685. Came to visit and take leave of me Sir Gabriel Sylvius,
now going Envoy-extraordinary into Denmark, with his secretary and
chaplain, a Frenchman, who related the miserable persecution of the
Protestants in France; not above ten churches left them, and those also
threatened to be demolished; they were commanded to christen their
children within twenty-four hours after birth, or else a Popish priest
was to be called, and then the infant brought up in Popery. In some
places, they were thirty leagues from any minister, or opportunity of
worship. This persecution had displeased the most industrious part of
the nation, and dispersed those into Switzerland, Burgundy, Holland,
Germany, Denmark, England, and the Plantations. There were with Sir
Gabriel, his lady, Sir William Godolphin and sisters, and my Lord
Godolphin's little son, my charge. I brought them to the water side
where Sir Gabriel embarked, and the rest returned to London.
14th June, 1685. There was now certain intelligence of the Duke of
Monmouth landing at Lyme, in Dorsetshire, and of his having set up his
standard as King of England. I pray God deliver us from the confusion
which these beginnings threaten!
Such a dearth for want of rain was never in my memory.
17th June, 1685. The Duke landed with but 150 men; but the whole kingdom
was alarmed, fearing that the disaffected would join them, many of the
trained bands flocking to him. At his landing, he published a
Declaration, charging his Majesty with usurpation and several horrid
crimes, on pretense of his own title, and offering to call a free
Parliament. This declaration was ordered to be burnt by the hangman, the
Duke proclaimed a traitor, and a reward of £5,000 to any who should kill
him.
At this time, the words engraved on the monument in London, intimating
that the Papists fired the city, were erased and cut out.
The exceeding drought still continues.
18th June, 1685. I received a warrant to send out a horse with twelve
days' provisions, etc.
28th June, 1685. We had now plentiful rain after two years' excessive
drought and severe winters.
Argyle taken in Scotland, and executed, and his party dispersed.
2d July, 1685. No considerable account of the troops sent against the
Duke, though great forces sent. There was a smart skirmish; but he would
not be provoked to come to an encounter, but still kept in the
fastnesses.
Dangerfield whipped, like Oates, for perjury.
8th July, 1685. Came news of Monmouth's utter defeat, and the next day
of his being taken by Sir William Portman and Lord Lumley with the
militia of their counties. It seems the Horse, commanded by Lord Grey,
being newly raised and undisciplined, were not to be brought in so short
a time to endure the fire, which exposed the Foot to the King's, so as
when Monmouth had led the Foot in great silence and order, thinking to
surprise Lieutenant-General Lord Feversham newly encamped, and given him
a smart charge, interchanging both great and small shot, the Horse,
breaking their own ranks, Monmouth gave it over, and fled with Grey,
leaving their party to be cut in pieces to the number of 2,000. The
whole number reported to be above 8,000; the King's but 2,700. The slain
were most of them MENDIP-MINERS, who did great execution with their
tools, and sold their lives very dearly, while their leaders flying were
pursued and taken the next morning, not far from one another. Monmouth
had gone sixteen miles on foot, changing his habit for a poor coat, and
was found by Lord Lumley in a dry ditch covered with fern-brakes, but
without sword, pistol, or any weapon, and so might have passed for some
countryman, his beard being grown so long and so gray as hardly to be
known, had not his George discovered him, which was found in his pocket.
It is said he trembled exceedingly all over, not able to speak. Grey was
taken not far from him. Most of his party were Anabaptists and poor
cloth workers of the country, no gentlemen of account being come in to
him. The arch-_boutefeu_, Ferguson, Matthews, etc., were not yet found.
The £5,000 to be given to whoever should bring Monmouth in, was to be
distributed among the militia by agreement between Sir William Portman
and Lord Lumley. The battle ended, some words, first in jest, then in
passion, passed between Sherrington Talbot (a worthy gentleman, son to
Sir John Talbot, and who had behaved himself very handsomely) and one
Captain Love, both commanders of the militia, as to whose soldiers
fought best, both drawing their swords and passing at one another.
Sherrington was wounded to death on the spot, to the great regret of
those who knew him. He was Sir John's only son.
[Sidenote: LONDON]
9th July, 1685. Just as I was coming into the lodgings at Whitehall, a
little before dinner, my Lord of Devonshire standing very near his
Majesty's bedchamber door in the lobby, came Colonel Culpeper, and in a
rude manner looking at my Lord in the face, asked whether this was a
time and place for excluders to appear; my Lord at first took little
notice of what he said, knowing him to be a hotheaded fellow, but he
reiterating it, my Lord asked Culpeper whether he meant him; he said
yes, he meant his Lordship. My Lord told him he was no excluder (as
indeed he was not); the other affirming it again, my Lord told him he
lied; on which Culpeper struck him a box on the ear, which my Lord
returned, and felled him. They were soon parted, Culpeper was seized,
and his Majesty, who was all the while in his bedchamber, ordered him to
be carried to the Greencloth officer, who sent him to the Marshalsea, as
he deserved. My Lord Devon had nothing said to him.
I supped this night at Lambeth at my old friend's Mr. Elias Ashmole's,
with my Lady Clarendon, the Bishop of St. Asaph, and Dr. Tenison, when
we were treated at a great feast.