John Evelyn, English country gentleman, courtier, diarist, and
miscellaneous author, was born at Wotton, in Surrey, on
October 31, 1620, and was educated at Lewes, and then at
Balliol College, Oxford. He then lived at the Middle Temple,
London; but after the death of Strafford, disliking the
unsettled state of England, he spent three months in the Low
Countries. Returning for a short time to England, he followed
the Royalist army for three days; but his prudence overcame
his loyalty, and, crossing the Channel again, he wandered for
four years in France and Italy. His observations abroad are
minutely recorded in the "Diary," which in its earlier part
too often resembles a guide-book. Having married, in Paris,
the British ambassador's daughter, Evelyn made his home, in
1652, at Sayes Court, Deptford, until he moved, in 1694; to
Wotton, where he died on February 27, 1706. He was honourably
employed, after the Restoration, on many public commissions,
and was one of the founders of the Royal Society. Like his
friend Samuel Pepys, Evelyn was a man of very catholic tastes,
and wrote on a multitude of subjects, including history,
politics, education, the fine arts, gardening, and especially
forestry, his "Sylva, or a Discourse of Forest Trees," 1664,
being, after the "Diary," his most famous work. Evelyn's
character is very engaging in its richness, uprightness, and
lively interests. His "Diary," like that of Pepys, lay long
unpublished, and first saw the light in 1818.
_I.--Early Years_
I was born at Wotton, in the county of Surrey, October 31, 1620, after
my father had been married about seven years, and my mother had borne
him two daughters and one son.
My father's countenance was clear and fresh-coloured, his eyes quick and
piercing, an ample forehead and manly aspect. He was ascetic and
sparing; his wisdom was great, his judgement acute; affable, humble, and
in nothing affected; of a thriving, silent, and methodical genius. He
was distinctly severe, yet liberal on all just occasions to his
children, strangers, and servants, a lover of hospitality; of a singular
and Christian moderation in all his actions. He was justice of the
peace, and served his country as high sheriff for Surrey and Sussex
together, and was a person of rare conversation. His estate was esteemed
about £4,000 per annum, well wooded, and full of timber.
My mother was of an ancient and honourable family in Shropshire. She was
of proper personage, of a brown complexion, her eyes and hair of a
lovely black, of constitution inclined to a religious melancholy or
pious sadness, of a rare memory and most exemplary life, for economy and
prudence esteemed one of the most conspicuous in her country.
Wotton, the mansion house of my father, is in the southern part of the
shire, three miles from Dorking, and is upon part of Leith Hill, one of
the most eminent in England for the prodigious prospect to be seen from
its summit.
From it may be discerned twelve or thirteen counties, with part of the
sea on the coast of Sussex on a serene day. The house large and ancient,
suitable to those hospitable times, and sweetly environed with delicious
streams and venerable woods.
_November_ 3, 1640. A day never to be mentioned without a curse, began
that long, foolish, and fatal Parliament, the beginning of all our
sorrows for twenty years after.
_January_ 2, 1641. We at night followed the hearse to the church at
Wotton, where my father was interred, and mingled with the ashes of our
mother, his dear wife. Thus we were bereft of both our parents in a
period when we most of all stood in need of their counsel and
assistance, especially myself, of a raw and unwary inclination.
_II.--Travels Abroad_
_May_ 12, 1641. I beheld on Tower Hill the fatal stroke which severed
the wisest head in England from the shoulders of the Earl of Strafford,
whose crime coming under the cognisance of no human law, a new one was
made to his destruction--to such exorbitancy were things arrived.
_July_ 21. Having procured a pass at the custom-house, embarked in a
Dutch frigate bound for Flushing, convoyed by five other stout vessels,
whereof one was a man-of-war.
_April_ 19, 1644. Set out from Paris for Orleans. The way, as indeed
most of the roads in France, is paved with a small square freestone, so
that there is little dirt and bad roads, as in England, only it is
somewhat hard to the poor horses' feet.
_October_ 7. We had a most delicious journey to Marseilles, through a
country full of vineyards, oliveyards, orange-trees, and the like sweet
plantations, to which belong pleasantly situated villas built all of
freestone.
We went to visit the galleys; the captain of the galley-royal gave us
most courteous entertainment in his cabin, the slaves playing loud and
soft music. Then he showed us how he commanded their motions with a nod
and his whistle, making them row out. The spectacle was to me new and
strange, to see so many hundreds of miserably naked persons, having
their heads shaven close, and having only high red bonnets, a pair of
coarse canvas drawers, their whole backs and legs naked, doubly chained
about their middles and legs in couples, and made fast to their seats,
and all commanded by a cruel seaman. Their rising forward and falling
back at their oar is a miserable spectacle, and the noise of their
chains with the roaring of the beaten waters has something of the
strange and fearful to one unaccustomed to it. They are chastised on the
least disorder, and without the least humanity; yet are they cheerful
and full of knavery.
_January_ 31, 1645. Climbing a steep hill in Naples, we came to the
monastery of the Carthusians, from whence is a most goodly prospect
towards the sea and city, the one full of galleys and ships, the other
of stately palaces, churches, castles, gardens, delicious fields and
meadows, Mount Vesuvius smoking, doubtless one of the most considerable
vistas in the world.
The inhabitants greatly affect the Spanish gravity in their habit,
delight in good horses; the streets are full of gallants on horseback,
in coaches, and sedans. The country people are so jovial and addicted to
music that the very husbandmen almost universally play on the guitar,
singing and composing songs in praise of their sweethearts, and will
commonly go to the field with their fiddle; they are merry, witty, and
genial, all which I much attribute to the excellent quality of the air.
They have a deadly hatred to the French, so that some of our company
were flouted at for wearing red cloaks, as the mode then was.
This I made the end of my travels, sufficiently sated with rolling up
and down, since, from the report of divers experienced and curious
persons, I had been assured there was little more to be seen in the rest
of the civil world, after Italy, France, Flanders, and the Low Country,
but plain and prodigious barbarism.
Thus, about February 7, we set out on our return to Rome by the same way
we came, not daring to adventure by sea, as some of our company were
inclined, for fear of Turkish pirates hovering on that coast.
_III.--Evelyn in England_
_May_ 22, 1647. I had contracted a great friendship with Sir Richard
Browne, his majesty's Resident at the Court of France, his lady and
family, and particularly set my affections on a daughter.
_June_ 10. We concluded about my marriage, and on Thursday 27, Dr. Earle
married us in Sir Richard Browne's chapel, betwixt the hours of eleven
and twelve some few select friends being present; and this being Corpus
Christi, feast was solemnly observed in this country; the streets were
sumptuously hung with tapestry and strewn with flowers.
_July_ 8, 1656. At Ipswich--one of the sweetest, most pleasant,
well-built towns in England. I had the curiosity to visit some Quakers
here in prison--a new fanatic sect, of dangerous principles, who show no
respect to any man, magistrate or other, and seem a melancholy, proud
sort of people, and exceedingly ignorant.
_November_ 2. There was now nothing practical preached in the pulpits,
or that pressed reformation of life, but high and speculative points
that few understood, which left people very ignorant and of no steady
principles, the source of all our sects and divisions, for there was
much envy and uncharity in the world--God of His mercy amend it!
_January_ 27, 1658. After six fits of an ague died my dear son Richard,
to our inexpressible grief and affliction, five years and three days
only, but at that tender age a prodigy for wit and understanding, and
for beauty of body a very angel. At two years and a half old he could
perfectly read any of the English, Latin, French, or Gothic letters,
pronouncing the three first languages perfectly. He had before the fifth
year, or in that year, not only skill to read most written hands, but to
decline all the nouns, conjugate the verbs regular, and most of the
irregular; got by heart almost the entire vocabulary of Latin and French
primitives and words, could make congruous syntax, turn English into
Latin and _vice versa_, construe and prove what he read, began himself
to write legibly, and had a strong passion for Greek. The number of
verses he could recite was prodigious, and he had a wonderful
disposition to mathematics. As to his piety, astonishing were his
applications of Scripture upon occasion, and his sense of God. He was
all life, all prettiness, far from morose, sullen or childish in
anything he said or did. Such a child I never saw; for such a child I
bless God, in whose bosom he is!
_November_ 22. Saw the superb funeral of the Protector. He was carried
from Somerset House in a velvet bed of state, drawn by six horses housed
with the same, the pall held up by his new lords; Oliver lying in effigy
in royal robes, and with a crown, sceptre and globe, like a king;
pendants carried by officers, imperial banners by the heralds; a rich
caparisoned horse, embroidered all over with gold, a knight of honour
armed _cap-à-pie_, guards, soldiers, and innumerable mourners. In this
equipage they proceeded to Westminster; but it was the joyfullest
funeral I ever saw, for there were none that cried but dogs, which the
soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco
in the streets as they went.
_May_ 29, 1660. This day his Majesty Charles II. came to London after a
sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the king and church,
being seventeen years. This also was his birthday, and with a triumph of
above 20,000 horse and foot, brandishing their swords and shouting with
inexpressible joy; the ways strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the
streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with wine; the mayor,
aldermen, and all the companies in their liveries, chains of gold, and
banners; lords and nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the
windows and balconies all set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads
of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven
hours in passing the city. I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and
blessed God.
_January_ 6, 1661. This night was suppressed a bloody insurrection of
some fifth-monarchy enthusiasts.
I was now chosen a Fellow of the Philosophical Society, now meeting at
Gresham College, where was an assembly of divers learned gentlemen; this
being the first meeting since the king's return; but it had been begun
some years before at Oxford, and was continued with interruption here in
London during the Rebellion.
_January_ 16. I went to the Philosophic Club, where was examined the
Torricellian experiment. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades, and
had recommended to me the publishing of what I had written upon
chalcography.
_January_ 30. This day--O the stupendous and inscrutable judgements of
God!--were the carcases of those arch-rebels Cromwell, Bradshawe, and
Ireton dragged out from their superb tombs in Westminster among the
kings, to Tyburn, and hanged on the gallows there from morning till
night, and then buried under that ignominious monument in a deep pit;
thousands of people who had seen them in all their pride being
spectators. Look back at November 22, 1658, and be astonished! And fear
God and honour the king; but meddle not with them who are given to
change!
_July_ 31, 1662. I sat with the commissioners about reforming the
buildings and streets of London, and we ordered the paving of the way
from St. James's north, which was a quagmire, and also of the Haymarket
about Piqudillo [Piccadilly].
_August_ 23. I was spectator of the most magnificent triumph that ever
floated on the Thames, considering the innumerable boats and vessels,
dressed and adorned with all imaginable pomp, but above all, the
thrones, arches, pageants, and other representations, stately barges of
the Lord Mayor and Companies, with music and peals of ordnance from the
vessels and the shore, going to meet and conduct the new queen from
Hampton Court to Whitehall, at the time of her first coming to town. His
majesty and the queen came in an antique-shaped open vessel, covered
with a canopy of cloth of gold, made in the form of a cupola, supported
with high Corinthian pillars, wreathed with flowers and festoons.
_IV.--Plague and Fire_
_July_ 16, 1665. There died of the plague in London this week 1,100, and
in the week following above 2,000.
_August_ 28. The contagion still increasing, I sent my wife and whole
family to my brother's at Wotton, being resolved to stay at my house
myself and to look after my charge, trusting in the providence and
goodness of God.
_September_ 7. Came home from Chatham. Perishing near 10,000 poor
creatures weekly. However, I went all along the city and suburbs from
Kent Street to St. James's, a dismal passage, and dangers to see so many
coffins exposed in the streets, now thin of people; the shops shut up,
and all in mournful silence, as not knowing whose turn might be next. I
went to the Duke of Albemarle for a pest-ship, for our infected men.
_September_ 2, 1666. This fatal night, about ten, began that deplorable
fire near Fish Street in London.
_September_ 3. After dinner I took coach with my wife and son, and went
to the Bank Side in Southwark, where we beheld the dismal spectacle, the
whole city in dreadful flames near the water-side.
The fire having continued all this night, which was as light as day for
ten miles round, in a dreadful manner, I went on foot to the same place.
The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that
from the beginning they hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was
nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like
distracted creatures, without attempting to save even their goods. It
leapt after a prodigious manner from house to house, and street to
street, at great distances one from the other. Here we saw the Thames
covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what
some had time and courage to save. And the fields for many miles were
strewn with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both
people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and
calamitous spectacle! London was, but is no more!
_October_ 17, 1671. My Lord Henry Howard would needs have me go with him
to Norwich. I was not hard to be persuaded, having a desire to see that
famous scholar and physician, Dr. T. Browne, author of the "Religio
Medici," now lately knighted. Thither, then, went my lord and I alone in
his flying chariot with six horses.
Next morning I went to see Sir Thomas Browne. His whole house and garden
were a paradise and cabinet of rarities, especially medals, books,
plants, and natural things. Sir Thomas had a collection of the eggs of
all the birds he could procure, that country being frequented by several
birds which seldom or never go farther into the land--as cranes, storks,
eagles, and variety of waterfowl. He led me to see all the remarkable
places of this ancient city, being one of the largest and noblest in
England.
_January_ 5, 1674. I saw an Italian opera in music, the first that had
been in England of this kind.
_November_ 15, 1678. The queen's birthday. I never saw the court more
brave, nor the nation in more apprehension and consternation. Titus
Oates has grown so presumptuous as to accuse the queen of intending to
poison the king, which certainly that pious and virtuous lady abhorred
the thought of. Oates probably thought to gratify some who would have
been glad his majesty should have married a fruitful lady; but the king
was too kind a husband to let any of these make impression on him.
However, divers of the Popish peers were sent to the Tower, accused by
Oates, and all the Roman Catholic lords were by a new Act for ever
excluded the Parliament, which was a mighty blow.
_May_ 5, 1681. Came to dine with me Sir Christopher Wren, his majesty's
architect and surveyor, now building the cathedral of St. Paul, and the
column in memory of the City's conflagration, and was in hand with the
building of fifty parish churches. A wonderful genius had this
incomparable person.
_January_ 24, 1684. The frost continuing more and more severe, the
Thames before London was planted with booths in formal streets, all
sorts of trades and shops furnished and full of commodities, even to a
printing press. Coaches plied from Westminster to the Temple, as in the
streets; sleds, sliding with skates, bull-baiting, horse and coach
races, puppet plays, cooks, tippling, so that it seemed to be a carnival
on the water; while it was a severe judgement on the land, the trees
splitting, men and cattle perishing, and the very seas locked up with
ice. London was so filled with the fuliginous steam of the coal that
hardly could one see across the streets, and this filling the lungs with
its gross particles, so as one could scarcely breathe.
_V.--Fall of the Stuarts_
_February_ 4, 1685. King Charles II. is dead. 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; he loved planting and building, and brought in a politer way
of living, which passed to luxury and expense. He would have been an
excellent prince had he been less addicted to women, who made him always
in want to supply their immeasurable profusion.
Certainly never had king more glorious opportunities to have made
himself, his people, and all Europe happy, 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.
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 day se'nnight I was witness of, the king sitting
and toying with his concubines, a French boy singing love-songs, in that
glorious gallery, while twenty great courtiers and other dissolute
persons were gaming at a large table, a bank of at least £2,000 in gold
before them. Six days after all was in the dust!
_November_ 5, 1688. I went to London, heard the news of the Prince of
Orange having landed at Torbay, coming with a fleet of near 700 sail,
passing through the Channel with so favourable a wind that our navy
could not intercept them. This put the king and court into great
consternation.
_November_ 13. The Prince of Orange is advanced to Windsor, and is
invited by the king to St. James's. The prince accepts the invitation,
but requires his majesty to retire to some distant place, that his own
guards may be quartered about the palace and city. This is taken
heinously, and the king goes privately to Rochester; is persuaded to
come back; comes on the Sunday, goes to mass, and dines in public, a
Jesuit saying grace. I was present.
_November_ 18. All the world go to see the prince at St. James's, where
there is a great court. He is very stately, serious, and reserved.
_November 24_. The king passes into France, whither the queen and child
were gone a few days before.
_May_ 26, 1703. This day died Mr. Sam Pepys, a very worthy, industrious,
and curious person; none in England exceeding him in knowledge of the
navy, in which he had passed through all the most considerable offices,
all of which he performed with great integrity. When King James II. went
out of England, he laid down his office, and would serve no more; but,
withdrawing himself from all public affairs, he lived at Clapham with
his partner, Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble house and
sweet place, where he enjoyed the fruit of his labours in great
prosperity. He was universally beloved, hospitable, generous, learned in
many things, skilled in music, a very great cherisher of learned men.
His library and collection of other curiosities were of the most
considerable, the models of ships especially.
_October_ 31, 1705. I am this day arrived to the eighty-fifth year of my
age. Lord teach me so to number my days to come that I may apply them to
wisdom!
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