September 1st. Up, and to visit my Lady Pen and her daughter at the
Ropeyarde where I did breakfast with them and sat chatting a good while.
Then to my lodging at Mr. Shelden’s, where I met Captain Cocke and eat
a little bit of dinner, and with him to Greenwich by water, having good
discourse with him by the way. After being at Greenwich a little while,
I to London, to my house, there put many more things in order for my
totall remove, sending away my girle Susan and other goods down to
Woolwich, and I by water to the Duke of Albemarle, and thence home late
by water. At the Duke of Albemarle’s I overheard some examinations of
the late plot that is discoursed of and a great deale of do there is
about it. Among other discourses, I heard read, in the presence of the
Duke, an examination and discourse of Sir Philip Howard’s, with one of
the plotting party. In many places these words being, “Then,” said Sir
P. Howard, “if you so come over to the King, and be faithfull to him,
you shall be maintained, and be set up with a horse and armes,” and I
know not what. And then said such a one, “Yes, I will be true to the
King.” “But, damn me,” said Sir Philip, “will you so and so?” And thus I
believe twelve times Sir P. Howard answered him a “damn me,” which was
a fine way of rhetorique to persuade a Quaker or Anabaptist from his
persuasion. And this was read in the hearing of Sir P. Howard, before
the Duke and twenty more officers, and they make sport of it, only
without any reproach, or he being anything ashamed of it!
[This republican plot was described by the Lord Chancellor in a
speech delivered on October 9th, when parliament met at Oxford.]
But it ended, I remember, at last, “But such a one (the plotter) did at
last bid them remember that he had not told them what King he would be
faithfull to.”
2nd. This morning I wrote letters to Mr. Hill and Andrews to come to
dine with me to-morrow, and then I to the office, where busy, and thence
to dine with Sir J. Minnes, where merry, but only that Sir J. Minnes who
hath lately lost two coach horses, dead in the stable, has a third now a
dying. After dinner I to Deptford, and there took occasion to ‘entrar a
la casa de la gunaica de ma Minusier’, and did what I had a mind... To
Greenwich, where wrote some letters, and home in pretty good time.
3rd (Lord’s day). Up; and put on my coloured silk suit very fine, and my
new periwigg, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the
plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what will
be the fashion after the plague is done, as to periwiggs, for nobody
will dare to buy any haire, for fear of the infection, that it had been
cut off of the heads of people dead of the plague. Before church time
comes Mr. Hill (Mr. Andrews failing because he was to receive the
Sacrament), and to church, where a sorry dull parson, and so home and
most excellent company with Mr. Hill and discourse of musique. I took
my Lady Pen home, and her daughter Pegg, and merry we were; and after
dinner I made my wife show them her pictures, which did mad Pegg Pen,
who learns of the same man and cannot do so well. After dinner left them
and I by water to Greenwich, where much ado to be suffered to come into
the towne because of the sicknesse, for fear I should come from London,
till I told them who I was. So up to the church, where at the door
I find Captain Cocke in my Lord Brunker’s coach, and he come out and
walked with me in the church-yarde till the church was done, talking of
the ill government of our Kingdom, nobody setting to heart the business
of the Kingdom, but every body minding their particular profit or
pleasures, the King himself minding nothing but his ease, and so we let
things go to wracke. This arose upon considering what we shall do for
money when the fleete comes in, and more if the fleete should not meet
with the Dutch, which will put a disgrace upon the King’s actions, so as
the Parliament and Kingdom will have the less mind to give more money,
besides so bad an account of the last money, we fear, will be given, not
half of it being spent, as it ought to be, upon the Navy. Besides, it is
said that at this day our Lord Treasurer cannot tell what the profit of
Chimney money is, what it comes to per annum, nor looks whether that
or any other part of the revenue be duly gathered as it ought; the very
money that should pay the City the L200,000 they lent the King, being
all gathered and in the hands of the Receiver and hath been long and
yet not brought up to pay the City, whereas we are coming to borrow 4 or
L500,000 more of the City, which will never be lent as is to be feared.
Church being done, my Lord Bruncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I up to the
Vestry at the desire of the justices of the Peace, Sir Theo. Biddulph
and Sir W. Boreman and Alderman Hooker, in order to the doing something
for the keeping of the plague from growing; but Lord! to consider the
madness of the people of the town, who will (because they are forbid)
come in crowds along with the dead corps to see them buried; but we
agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof. Among other stories,
one was very passionate, methought, of a complaint brought against a
man in the towne for taking a child from London from an infected house.
Alderman Hooker told us it was the child of a very able citizen in
Gracious Street, a saddler, who had buried all the rest of his children
of the plague, and himself and wife now being shut up and in despair of
escaping, did desire only to save the life of this little child; and so
prevailed to have it received stark-naked into the arms of a friend, who
brought it (having put it into new fresh clothes) to Greenwich; where
upon hearing the story, we did agree it should be permitted to be
received and kept in the towne. Thence with my Lord Bruncker to Captain
Cocke’s, where we mighty merry and supped, and very late I by water to
Woolwich, in great apprehensions of an ague. Here was my Lord Bruncker’s
lady of pleasure, who, I perceive, goes every where with him; and he,
I find, is obliged to carry her, and make all the courtship to her that
can be.
4th. Writing letters all the morning, among others to my Lady Carteret,
the first I have wrote to her, telling her the state of the city as
to health and other sorrowfull stories, and thence after dinner to
Greenwich, to Sir J. Minnes, where I found my Lord Bruncker, and having
staid our hour for the justices by agreement, the time being past we to
walk in the Park with Mr. Hammond and Turner, and there eat some fruit
out of the King’s garden and walked in the Parke, and so back to Sir J.
Minnes, and thence walked home, my Lord Bruncker giving me a very neat
cane to walk with; but it troubled me to pass by Coome farme where about
twenty-one people have died of the plague, and three or four days since
I saw a dead corps in a coffin lie in the Close unburied, and a watch
is constantly kept there night and day to keep the people in, the plague
making us cruel, as doggs, one to another.
5th. Up, and walked with some Captains and others talking to me to
Greenwich, they crying out upon Captain Teddiman’s management of the
business of Bergen, that he staid treating too long while he saw the
Dutch fitting themselves, and that at first he might have taken every
ship, and done what he would with them. How true I cannot tell. Here
we sat very late and for want of money, which lies heavy upon us, did
nothing of business almost. Thence home with my Lord Bruncker to dinner
where very merry with him and his doxy. After dinner comes Colonell
Blunt in his new chariot made with springs; as that was of wicker,
wherein a while since we rode at his house. And he hath rode, he says,
now this journey, many miles in it with one horse, and out-drives any
coach, and out-goes any horse, and so easy, he says. So for curiosity
I went into it to try it, and up the hill to the heath, and over the
cart-rutts and found it pretty well, but not so easy as he pretends, and
so back again, and took leave of my Lord and drove myself in the chariot
to the office, and there ended my letters and home pretty betimes and
there found W. Pen, and he staid supper with us and mighty merry talking
of his travells and the French humours, etc., and so parted and to bed.
6th. Busy all the morning writing letters to several, so to dinner,
to London, to pack up more things thence; and there I looked into the
street and saw fires burning in the street, as it is through the
whole City, by the Lord Mayor’s order. Thence by water to the Duke of
Albemarle’s: all the way fires on each side of the Thames, and strange
to see in broad daylight two or three burials upon the Bankeside, one at
the very heels of another: doubtless all of the plague; and yet at
least forty or fifty people going along with every one of them. The Duke
mighty pleasant with me; telling me that he is certainly informed that
the Dutch were not come home upon the 1st instant, and so he hopes our
fleete may meet with them, and here to my great joy I got him to sign
bills for the several sums I have paid on Tangier business by his single
letter, and so now I can get more hands to them. This was a great joy to
me: Home to Woolwich late by water, found wife in bed, and yet late as
[it] was to write letters in order to my rising betimes to go to Povy
to-morrow. So to bed, my wife asking me to-night about a letter of hers
I should find, which indeed Mary did the other day give me as if she had
found it in my bed, thinking it had been mine, brought to her from a
man without name owning great kindness to her and I know not what. But
looking it over seriously, and seeing it bad sense and ill writ, I did
believe it to be her brother’s and so had flung it away, but finding her
now concerned at it and vexed with Mary about it, it did trouble me, but
I would take no notice of it to-night, but fell to sleep as if angry.
7th. Up by 5 of the clock, mighty full of fear of an ague, but was
obliged to go, and so by water, wrapping myself up warm, to the Tower,
and there sent for the Weekely Bill, and find 8,252 dead in all, and of
them 6,878 of the plague; which is a most dreadfull number, and shows
reason to fear that the plague hath got that hold that it will yet
continue among us. Thence to Brainford, reading “The Villaine,” a pretty
good play, all the way. There a coach of Mr. Povy’s stood ready for
me, and he at his house ready to come in, and so we together merrily
to Swakely, Sir R. Viner’s. A very pleasant place, bought by him of Sir
James Harrington’s lady. He took us up and down with great respect, and
showed us all his house and grounds; and it is a place not very moderne
in the garden nor house, but the most uniforme in all that ever I saw;
and some things to excess. Pretty to see over the screene of the hall
(put up by Sir J. Harrington, a Long Parliamentman) the King’s head,
and my Lord of Essex on one side, and Fairfax on the other; and upon the
other side of the screene, the parson of the parish, and the lord of the
manor and his sisters. The window-cases, door-cases, and chimnys of all
the house are marble. He showed me a black boy that he had, that died of
a consumption, and being dead, he caused him to be dried in an oven, and
lies there entire in a box. By and by to dinner, where his lady I find
yet handsome, but hath been a very handsome woman; now is old. Hath
brought him near L100,000 and now he lives, no man in England in greater
plenty, and commands both King and Council with his credit he gives
them. Here was a fine lady a merchant’s wife at dinner with us, and who
should be here in the quality of a woman but Mrs. Worship’s daughter,
Dr. Clerke’s niece, and after dinner Sir Robert led us up to his long
gallery, very fine, above stairs (and better, or such, furniture I never
did see), and there Mrs. Worship did give us three or four very good
songs, and sings very neatly, to my great delight. After all this, and
ending the chief business to my content about getting a promise of some
money of him, we took leave, being exceedingly well treated here, and
a most pleasant journey we had back, Povy and I, and his company most
excellent in anything but business, he here giving me an account of as
many persons at Court as I had a mind or thought of enquiring after. He
tells me by a letter he showed me, that the King is not, nor hath been
of late, very well, but quite out of humour; and, as some think, in a
consumption, and weary of every thing. He showed me my Lord Arlington’s
house that he was born in, in a towne called Harlington: and so carried
me through a most pleasant country to Brainford, and there put me into
my boat, and good night. So I wrapt myself warm, and by water got to
Woolwich about one in the morning, my wife and all in bed.
8th. Waked, and fell in talk with my wife about the letter, and she
satisfied me that she did not know from whence it come, but believed
it might be from her cozen Franke Moore lately come out of France. The
truth is the thing I think cannot have much in it, and being unwilling
(being in other things so much at ease) to vex myself in a strange place
at a melancholy time, passed all by and were presently friends. Up,
and several with me about business. Anon comes my Lord Bruncker, as
I expected, and we to the enquiring into the business of the late
desertion of the Shipwrights from worke, who had left us for three days
together for want of money, and upon this all the morning, and brought
it to a pretty good issue, that they, we believe, will come to-morrow to
work. To dinner, having but a mean one, yet sufficient for him, and he
well enough pleased, besides that I do not desire to vye entertainments
with him or any else. Here was Captain Cocke also, and Mr. Wayth. We
staid together talking upon one business or other all the afternoon. In
the evening my Lord Bruncker hearing that Mr. Ackeworth’s clerke, the
Dutchman who writes and draws so well, was transcribing a book of Rates
and our ships for Captain Millet a gallant of his mistress’s, we sent
for him for it. He would not deliver it, but said it was his mistress’s
and had delivered it to her. At last we were forced to send to her for
it; she would come herself, and indeed the book was a very neat one and
worth keeping as a rarity, but we did think fit, and though much against
my will, to cancell all that he had finished of it, and did give her
the rest, which vexed her, and she bore it discreetly enough, but with
a cruel deal of malicious rancour in her looks. I must confess I would
have persuaded her to have let us have it to the office, and it may be
the board would not have censured too hardly of it, but my intent was
to have had it as a Record for the office, but she foresaw what would be
the end of it and so desired it might rather be cancelled, which was a
plaguy deal of spite. My Lord Bruncker being gone and company, and she
also, afterwards I took my wife and people and walked into the fields
about a while till night, and then home, and so to sing a little and
then to bed. I was in great trouble all this day for my boy Tom who went
to Greenwich yesterday by my order and come not home till to-night for
fear of the plague, but he did come home to-night, saying he staid last
night by Mr. Hater’s advice hoping to have me called as I come home with
my boat to come along with me.
9th. Up and walked to Greenwich, and there we sat and dispatched a good
deal of business I had a mind to. At noon, by invitation, to my Lord
Bruncker’s, all of us, to dinner, where a good venison pasty, and mighty
merry. Here was Sir W. Doyly, lately come from Ipswich about the sicke
and wounded, and Mr. Evelyn and Captain Cocke. My wife also was sent for
by my Lord Bruncker, by Cocke, and was here. After dinner, my Lord and
his mistress would see her home again, it being a most cursed rainy
afternoon, having had none a great while before, and I, forced to go to
the office on foot through all the rain, was almost wet to my skin, and
spoiled my silke breeches almost. Rained all the afternoon and evening,
so as my letters being done, I was forced to get a bed at Captain
Cocke’s, where I find Sir W. Doyly, and he, and Evelyn at supper; and
I with them full of discourse of the neglect of our masters, the great
officers of State, about all business, and especially that of money:
having now some thousands prisoners, kept to no purpose at a great
charge, and no money provided almost for the doing of it. We fell to
talk largely of the want of some persons understanding to look after
businesses, but all goes to rack. “For,” says Captain Cocke, “my Lord
Treasurer, he minds his ease, and lets things go how they will: if he
can have his L8000 per annum, and a game at l’ombre,--[Spanish card
game]--he is well. My Lord Chancellor he minds getting of money and
nothing else; and my Lord Ashly will rob the Devil and the Alter, but he
will get money if it be to be got.” But that that put us into this great
melancholy, was newes brought to-day, which Captain Cocke reports as a
certain truth, that all the Dutch fleete, men-of-war and merchant East
India ships, are got every one in from Bergen the 3d of this month,
Sunday last; which will make us all ridiculous. The fleete come home
with shame to require a great deale of money, which is not to be had, to
discharge many men that must get the plague then or continue at greater
charge on shipboard, nothing done by them to encourage the Parliament to
give money, nor the Kingdom able to spare any money, if they would, at
this time of the plague, so that, as things look at present, the whole
state must come to ruine. Full of these melancholy thoughts, to bed;
where, though I lay the softest I ever did in my life, with a downe bed,
after the Danish manner, upon me, yet I slept very ill, chiefly through
the thoughts of my Lord Sandwich’s concernment in all this ill successe
at sea.
10th (Lord’s day). Walked home; being forced thereto by one of my
watermen falling sick yesterday, and it was God’s great mercy I did not
go by water with them yesterday, for he fell sick on Saturday night, and
it is to be feared of the plague. So I sent him away to London with
his fellow; but another boat come to me this morning, whom I sent to
Blackewall for Mr. Andrews. I walked to Woolwich, and there find Mr.
Hill, and he and I all the morning at musique and a song he hath set of
three parts, methinks, very good. Anon comes Mr. Andrews, though it be a
very ill day, and so after dinner we to musique and sang till about 4 or
5 o’clock, it blowing very hard, and now and then raining, and wind and
tide being against us, Andrews and I took leave and walked to Greenwich.
My wife before I come out telling me the ill news that she hears that
her father is very ill, and then I told her I feared of the plague, for
that the house is shut up. And so she much troubled she did desire me
to send them something; and I said I would, and will do so. But before
I come out there happened newes to come to the by an expresse from Mr.
Coventry, telling me the most happy news of my Lord Sandwich’s meeting
with part of the Dutch; his taking two of their East India ships, and
six or seven others, and very good prizes and that he is in search of
the rest of the fleet, which he hopes to find upon the Wellbancke,
with the loss only of the Hector, poor Captain Cuttle. This newes do
so overjoy me that I know not what to say enough to express it, but
the better to do it I did walk to Greenwich, and there sending away Mr.
Andrews, I to Captain Cocke’s, where I find my Lord Bruncker and his
mistress, and Sir J. Minnes. Where we supped (there was also Sir W.
Doyly and Mr. Evelyn); but the receipt of this newes did put us all
into such an extacy of joy, that it inspired into Sir J. Minnes and Mr.
Evelyn such a spirit of mirth, that in all my life I never met with so
merry a two hours as our company this night was. Among other humours,
Mr. Evelyn’s repeating of some verses made up of nothing but the various
acceptations of may and can, and doing it so aptly upon occasion of
something of that nature, and so fast, did make us all die almost with
laughing, and did so stop the mouth of Sir J. Minnes in the middle of
all his mirth (and in a thing agreeing with his own manner of genius),
that I never saw any man so out-done in all my life; and Sir J. Minnes’s
mirth too to see himself out-done, was the crown of all our mirth.
In this humour we sat till about ten at night, and so my Lord and his
mistress home, and we to bed, it being one of the times of my life
wherein I was the fullest of true sense of joy.
11th. Up and walked to the office, there to do some business till ten of
the clock, and then by agreement my Lord, Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Doyly,
and I took boat and over to the ferry, where Sir W. Batten’s coach
was ready for us, and to Walthamstow drove merrily, excellent merry
discourse in the way, and most upon our last night’s revells; there come
we were very merry, and a good plain venison dinner. After dinner to
billiards, where I won an angel,
[A gold coin, so called because it bore the image of an angel,
varying in value from six shillings and eightpence to ten
shillings.]
and among other sports we were merry with my pretending to have a
warrant to Sir W. Hickes (who was there, and was out of humour with Sir
W. Doyly’s having lately got a warrant for a leash of buckes, of which
we were now eating one) which vexed him, and at last would compound with
me to give my Lord Bruncker half a buck now, and me a Doe for it a while
hence when the season comes in, which we agreed to and had held, but
that we fear Sir W. Doyly did betray our design, which spoiled all;
however, my Lady Batten invited herself to dine with him this week, and
she invited us all to dine with her there, which we agreed to, only to
vex him, he being the most niggardly fellow, it seems, in the world.
Full of good victuals and mirth we set homeward in the evening, and
very merry all the way. So to Greenwich, where when come I find my
Lord Rutherford and Creed come from Court, and among other things have
brought me several orders for money to pay for Tangier; and, among
the rest L7000 and more, to this Lord, which is an excellent thing to
consider, that, though they can do nothing else, they can give away
the King’s money upon their progresse. I did give him the best answer I
could to pay him with tallys, and that is all they could get from me.
I was not in humour to spend much time with them, but walked a little
before Sir J. Minnes’s door and then took leave, and I by water to
Woolwich, where with my wife to a game at tables,
[The old name for backgammon, used by Shakespeare and others. The
following lines are from an epitaph entirely made up of puns on
backgammon
“Man’s life’s a game at tables, and he may
Mend his bad fortune by his wiser play.”