November 1st. Up, and was presented by Burton, one of our smith’s wives,
with a very noble cake, which I presently resolved to have my wife go
with to-day, and some wine, and house-warme my Betty Michell, which
she readily resolved to do. So I to the office and sat all the morning,
where little to do but answer people about want of money; so that there
is little service done the King by us, and great disquiet to ourselves;
I am sure there is to me very much, for I do not enjoy myself as I would
and should do in my employment if my pains could do the King better
service, and with the peace that we used to do it. At noon to dinner,
and from dinner my wife and my brother, and W. Hewer and Barker away to
Betty Michell’s, to Shadwell, and I to my office, where I took in Mrs.
Bagwell and did what I would with her, and so she went away, and I all
the afternoon till almost night there, and then, my wife being come
back, I took her and set her at her brother’s, who is very sicke, and I
to White Hall, and there all alone a pretty while with Sir W. Coventry
at his chamber. I find him very melancholy under the same considerations
of the King’s service that I am. He confesses with me he expects all
will be undone, and all ruined; he complains and sees perfectly what I
with grief do, and said it first himself to me that all discipline is
lost in the fleete, no order nor no command, and concurs with me that
it is necessary we do again and again represent all things more and more
plainly to the Duke of York, for a guard to ourselves hereafter when
things shall come to be worse. He says the House goes on slowly in
finding of money, and that the discontented party do say they have
not done with us, for they will have a further bout with us as to our
accounts, and they are exceedingly well instructed where to hit us. I
left him with a thousand sad reflections upon the times, and the state
of the King’s matters, and so away, and took up my wife and home, where
a little at the office, and then home to supper, and talk with my wife
(with whom I have much comfort) and my brother, and so to bed.
2nd. Up betimes, and with Sir W. Batten to Woolwich, where first we went
on board the Ruby, French prize, the only ship of war we have taken
from any of our enemies this year. It seems a very good ship, but with
galleries quite round the sterne to walk in as a balcone, which will
be taken down. She had also about forty good brass guns, but will make
little amends to our loss in The Prince. Thence to the Ropeyarde and the
other yards to do several businesses, he and I also did buy some apples
and pork; by the same token the butcher commended it as the best in
England for cloath and colour. And for his beef, says he, “Look how fat
it is; the lean appears only here and there a speck, like beauty-spots.”
Having done at Woolwich, we to Deptford (it being very cold upon the
water), and there did also a little more business, and so home, I
reading all the why to make end of the “Bondman” (which the oftener I
read the more I like), and begun “The Duchesse of Malfy;” which seems a
good play. At home to dinner, and there come Mr. Pierce, surgeon, to
see me, and after I had eat something, he and I and my wife by coach to
Westminster, she set us down at White Hall, and she to her brother’s. I
up into the House, and among other things walked a good while with the
Serjeant Trumpet, who tells me, as I wished, that the King’s Italian
here is about setting three parts for trumpets, and shall teach some to
sound them, and believes they will be admirable musique. I also walked
with Sir Stephen Fox an houre, and good discourse of publique business
with him, who seems very much satisfied with my discourse, and desired
more of my acquaintance. Then comes out the King and Duke of York from
the Council, and so I spoke awhile to Sir W. Coventry about some office
business, and so called my wife (her brother being now a little better
than he was), and so home, and I to my chamber to do some business, and
then to supper and to bed.
3rd. This morning comes Mr. Lovett, and brings me my print of the
Passion, varnished by him, and the frame black, which indeed is very
fine, though not so fine as I expected; however, pleases me exceedingly.
This, and the sheets of paper he prepared for me, come to L3, which I
did give him, and though it be more than is fit to lay out on pleasure,
yet, it being ingenious, I did not think much of it. He gone, I to the
office, where all the morning to little purpose, nothing being before us
but clamours for money: So at noon home to dinner, and after dinner to
hang up my new varnished picture and set my chamber in order to be made
clean, and then to; the office again, and there all the afternoon till
late at night, and so to supper and to bed.
4th (Lord’s day). Comes my taylor’s man in the morning, and brings my
vest home, and coate to wear with it, and belt, and silver-hilted sword.
So I rose and dressed myself, and I like myself mightily in it, and so
do my wife. Then, being dressed, to church; and after church pulled my
Lady Pen and Mrs. Markham into my house to dinner, and Sir J. Minnes
he got Mrs. Pegg along with him. I had a good dinner for them, and very
merry; and after dinner to the waterside, and so, it being very cold,
to White Hall, and was mighty fearfull of an ague, my vest being new and
thin, and the coat cut not to meet before upon my breast. Here I waited
in the gallery till the Council was up, and among others did speak
with Mr. Cooling, my Lord Chamberlain’s secretary, who tells me my Lord
Generall is become mighty low in all people’s opinion, and that he hath
received several slurs from the King and Duke of York. The people at
Court do see the difference between his and the Prince’s management, and
my Lord Sandwich’s. That this business which he is put upon of crying
out against the Catholiques and turning them out of all employment, will
undo him, when he comes to turn-out the officers out of the Army, and
this is a thing of his own seeking. That he is grown a drunken sot, and
drinks with nobody but Troutbecke, whom nobody else will keep company
with. Of whom he told me this story: That once the Duke of Albemarle in
his drink taking notice as of a wonder that Nan Hide should ever come to
be Duchesse of York, “Nay,” says Troutbecke, “ne’er wonder at that; for
if you will give me another bottle of wine, I will tell you as great,
if not greater, a miracle.” And what was that, but that our dirty Besse
(meaning his Duchesse) should come to be Duchesse of Albemarle? Here we
parted, and so by and by the Council rose, and out comes Sir G. Carteret
and Sir W. Coventry, and they and my Lord Bruncker and I went to Sir G.
Carteret’s lodgings, there to discourse about some money demanded by
Sir W. Warren, and having done that broke up. And Sir G. Carteret and
I alone together a while, where he shows a long letter, all in cipher,
from my Lord Sandwich to him. The contents he hath not yet found out,
but he tells me that my Lord is not sent for home, as several people
have enquired after of me. He spoke something reflecting upon me in the
business of pursers, that their present bad behaviour is what he did
foresee, and had convinced me of, and yet when it come last year to
be argued before the Duke of York I turned and said as the rest did. I
answered nothing to it, but let it go, and so to other discourse of
the ill state of things, of which all people are full of sorrow and
observation, and so parted, and then by water, landing in Southwarke,
home to the Tower, and so home, and there began to read “Potter’s
Discourse upon 1666,” which pleases me mightily, and then broke off and
to supper and to bed.
5th (A holyday). Lay long; then up, and to the office, where vexed to
meet with people come from the fleete at the Nore, where so many ships
are laid up and few going abroad, and yet Sir Thomas Allen hath sent up
some Lieutenants with warrants to presse men for a few ships to go out
this winter, while every day thousands appear here, to our great trouble
and affright, before our office and the ticket office, and no Captains
able to command one-man aboard. Thence by water to Westminster, and
there at the Swan find Sarah is married to a shoemaker yesterday, so
I could not see her, but I believe I shall hereafter at good leisure.
Thence by coach to my Lady Peterborough, and there spoke with my Lady,
who had sent to speak with me. She makes mighty moan of the badness of
the times, and her family as to money. My Lord’s passionateness for want
thereof, and his want of coming in of rents, and no wages from the
Duke of York. No money to be had there for wages nor disbursements, and
therefore prays my assistance about his pension. I was moved with her
story, which she largely and handsomely told me, and promised I would
try what I could do in a few days, and so took leave, being willing to
keep her Lord fair with me, both for his respect to my Lord Sandwich and
for my owne sake hereafter, when I come to pass my accounts. Thence to
my Lord Crew’s, and there dined, and mightily made of, having not, to my
shame, been there in 8 months before. Here my Lord and Sir Thomas Crew,
Mr. John, and Dr. Crew, and two strangers. The best family in the world
for goodness and sobriety. Here beyond my expectation I met my Lord
Hinchingbroke, who is come to towne two days since from Hinchingbroke,
and brought his sister and brother Carteret with him, who are at Sir G.
Carteret’s. After dinner I and Sir Thomas Crew went aside to discourse
of public matters, and do find by him that all the country gentlemen are
publickly jealous of the courtiers in the Parliament, and that they do
doubt every thing that they propose; and that the true reason why the
country gentlemen are for a land-tax and against a general excise, is,
because they are fearful that if the latter be granted they shall never
get it down again; whereas the land-tax will be but for so much; and
when the war ceases, there will be no ground got by the Court to keep
it up. He do much cry out upon our accounts, and that all that they have
had from the King hath been but estimates both from my Lord Treasurer
and us, and from all people else, so that the Parliament is weary of
it. He says the House would be very glad to get something against Sir
G. Carteret, and will not let their inquiries die till they have got
something. He do, from what he hath heard at the Committee for examining
the burning of the City, conclude it as a thing certain that it was done
by plots; it being proved by many witnesses that endeavours were made in
several places to encrease the fire, and that both in City and country
it was bragged by several Papists that upon such a day or in such a time
we should find the hottest weather that ever was in England, and words
of plainer sense. But my Lord Crew was discoursing at table how the
judges have determined in the case whether the landlords or the tenants
(who are, in their leases, all of them generally tied to maintain and
uphold their houses) shall bear the losse of the fire; and they say that
tenants should against all casualties of fire beginning either in their
owne or in their neighbour’s; but, where it is done by an enemy, they
are not to do it. And this was by an enemy, there having been one
convicted and hanged upon this very score. This is an excellent salvo
for the tenants, and for which I am glad, because of my father’s house.
After dinner and this discourse I took coach, and at the same time find
my Lord Hinchingbroke and Mr. John Crew and the Doctor going out to see
the ruins of the City; so I took the Doctor into my hackney coach (and
he is a very fine sober gentleman), and so through the City. But,
Lord! what pretty and sober observations he made of the City and its
desolation; till anon we come to my house, and there I took them upon
Tower Hill to shew them what houses were pulled down there since the
fire; and then to my house, where I treated them with good wine of
several sorts, and they took it mighty respectfully, and a fine
company of gentlemen they are; but above all I was glad to see my Lord
Hinchingbroke drink no wine at all. Here I got them to appoint Wednesday
come se’nnight to dine here at my house, and so we broke up and all took
coach again, and I carried the Doctor to Chancery Lane, and thence I to
White Hall, where I staid walking up and down till night, and then got
almost into the play house, having much mind to go and see the play
at Court this night; but fearing how I should get home, because of the
bonefires and the lateness of the night to get a coach, I did not stay;
but having this evening seen my Lady Jemimah, who is come to towne,
and looks very well and fat, and heard how Mr. John Pickering is to be
married this week, and to a fortune with L5000, and seen a rich necklace
of pearle and two pendants of dyamonds, which Sir G. Carteret hath
presented her with since her coming to towne, I home by coach, but met
not one bonefire through the whole town in going round by the wall,
which is strange, and speaks the melancholy disposition of the City at
present, while never more was said of, and feared of, and done against
the Papists than just at this time. Home, and there find my wife and her
people at cards, and I to my chamber, and there late, and so to supper
and to bed.
6th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting. At noon home
to dinner, and after dinner down alone by water to Deptford, reading
“Duchesse of Malfy,” the play, which is pretty good, and there did some
business, and so up again, and all the evening at the office. At night
home, and there find Mr. Batelier, who supped with us, and good company
he is, and so after supper to bed.
7th. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to White Hall, where we attended as
usual the Duke of York and there was by the folly of Sir W. Batten
prevented in obtaining a bargain for Captain Cocke, which would, I
think have [been] at this time (during our great want of hempe), both
profitable to the King and of good convenience to me; but I matter
it not, it being done only by the folly, not any design, of Sir W.
Batten’s. Thence to Westminster Hall, and, it being fast day, there was
no shops open, but meeting with Doll Lane, did go with her to the Rose
taverne, and there drank and played with her a good while. She went
away, and I staid a good while after, and was seen going out by one of
our neighbours near the office and two of the Hall people that I had
no mind to have been seen by, but there was no hurt in it nor can be
alledged from it. Therefore I am not solicitous in it, but took coach
and called at Faythorne’s, to buy some prints for my wife to draw by
this winter, and here did see my Lady Castlemayne’s picture, done by him
from Lilly’s, in red chalke and other colours, by which he hath cut it
in copper to be printed. The picture in chalke is the finest thing I
ever saw in my life, I think; and did desire to buy it; but he says he
must keep it awhile to correct his copper-plate by, and when that is
done he will sell it me. Thence home and find my wife gone out with
my brother to see her brother. I to dinner and thence to my chamber to
read, and so to the office (it being a fast day and so a holiday), and
then to Mrs. Turner’s, at her request to speake and advise about Sir
Thomas Harvy’s coming to lodge there, which I think must be submitted
to, and better now than hereafter, when he gets more ground, for I
perceive he intends to stay by it, and begins to crow mightily upon
his late being at the payment of tickets; but a coxcombe he is and will
never be better in the business of the Navy. Thence home, and there find
Mr. Batelier come to bring my wife a very fine puppy of his mother’s
spaniel, a very fine one indeed, which my wife is mighty proud of. He
staid and supped with us, and they to cards. I to my chamber to do some
business, and then out to them to play and were a little merry, and then
to bed. By the Duke of York his discourse to-day in his chamber, they
have it at Court, as well as we here, that a fatal day is to be expected
shortly, of some great mischiefe to the remainder of this day; whether
by the Papists, or what, they are not certain. But the day is disputed;
some say next Friday, others a day sooner, others later, and I hope all
will prove a foolery. But it is observable how every body’s fears are
busy at this time.
8th. Up, and before I went to the office I spoke with Mr. Martin for his
advice about my proceeding in the business of the private man-of-war,
he having heretofore served in one of them, and now I have it in my
thoughts to send him purser in ours. After this discourse I to the
office, where I sat all the morning, Sir W. Coventry with us, where he
hath not been a great while, Sir W. Pen also, newly come from the Nore,
where he hath been some time fitting of the ships out. At noon home
to dinner and then to the office awhile, and so home for my sword,
and there find Mercer come to see her mistresse. I was glad to see her
there, and my wife mighty kind also, and for my part, much vexed that
the jade is not with us still. Left them together, designing to go
abroad to-morrow night to Mrs. Pierces to dance; and so I to Westminster
Hall, and there met Mr. Grey, who tells me the House is sitting still
(and now it was six o’clock), and likely to sit till midnight; and have
proceeded fair to give the King his supply presently; and herein
have done more to-day than was hoped for. So to White Hall to Sir W.
Coventry, and there would fain have carried Captain Cocke’s business for
his bargain of hemp, but am defeated and disappointed, and know hardly
how to carry myself in it between my interest and desire not to offend
Sir W. Coventry. Sir W. Coventry did this night tell me how the business
is about Sir J. Minnes; that he is to be a Commissioner, and my Lord
Bruncker and Sir W. Pen are to be Controller joyntly, which I am very
glad of, and better than if they were either of them alone; and do
hope truly that the King’s business will be better done thereby, and
infinitely better than now it is. Thence by coach home, full of thoughts
of the consequence of this alteration in our office, and I think no evil
to me. So at my office late, and then home to supper and to bed. Mr.
Grey did assure me this night, that he was told this day, by one of the
greater Ministers of State in England, and one of the King’s Cabinet,
that we had little left to agree on between the Dutch and us towards a
peace, but only the place of treaty; which do astonish me to hear, but
I am glad of it, for I fear the consequence of the war. But he says that
the King, having all the money he is like to have, we shall be sure of a
peace in a little time.
9th. Up and to the office, where did a good deale of business, and then
at noon to the Exchange and to my little goldsmith’s, whose wife is very
pretty and modest, that ever I saw any. Upon the ‘Change, where I seldom
have of late been, I find all people mightily at a losse what to expect,
but confusion and fears in every man’s head and heart. Whether war or
peace, all fear the event will be bad. Thence home and with my brother
to dinner, my wife being dressing herself against night; after dinner
I to my closett all the afternoon, till the porter brought my vest back
from the taylor’s, and then to dress myself very fine, about 4 or 5
o’clock, and by that time comes Mr. Batelier and Mercer, and away by
coach to Mrs. Pierces, by appointment, where we find good company: a
fair lady, my Lady Prettyman, Mrs. Corbet, Knipp; and for men, Captain
Downing, Mr. Lloyd, Sir W. Coventry’s clerk, and one Mr. Tripp, who
dances well. After some trifling discourse, we to dancing, and very good
sport, and mightily pleased I was with the company. After our first bout
of dancing, Knipp and I to sing, and Mercer and Captain Downing (who
loves and understands musique) would by all means have my song of
“Beauty, retire.” which Knipp had spread abroad; and he extols it above
any thing he ever heard, and, without flattery, I know it is good in its
kind. This being done and going to dance again, comes news that White
Hall was on fire; and presently more particulars, that the Horse-guard
was on fire;
[“Nov. 9th. Between seven and eight at night, there happened a fire
in the Horse Guard House, in the Tilt Yard, over against Whitehall,
which at first arising, it is supposed, from some snuff of a candle
falling amongst the straw, broke out with so sudden a flame, that at
once it seized the north-west part of that building; but being so
close under His Majesty’s own eye, it was, by the timely help His
Majesty and His Royal Highness caused to be applied, immediately
stopped, and by ten o’clock wholly mastered, with the loss only of
that part of the building it had at first seized.”--The London
Gazette, No. 103.--B.]
and so we run up to the garret, and find it so; a horrid great fire; and
by and by we saw and heard part of it blown up with powder. The ladies
begun presently to be afeard: one fell into fits. The whole town in
an alarme. Drums beat and trumpets, and the guards every where
spread, running up and down in the street. And I begun to have mighty
apprehensions how things might be at home, and so was in mighty pain
to get home, and that that encreased all is that we are in expectation,
from common fame, this night, or to-morrow, to have a massacre, by the
having so many fires one after another, as that in the City, and at
same time begun in Westminster, by the Palace, but put out; and since
in Southwarke, to the burning down some houses; and now this do make all
people conclude there is something extraordinary in it; but nobody knows
what. By and by comes news that the fire has slackened; so then we were
a little cheered up again, and to supper, and pretty merry. But, above
all, there comes in the dumb boy that I knew in Oliver’s time, who is
mightily acquainted here, and with Downing; and he made strange signs of
the fire, and how the King was abroad, and many things they understood,
but I could not, which I wondering at, and discoursing with Downing
about it, “Why,” says he, “it is only a little use, and you will
understand him, and make him understand you with as much ease as may
be.” So I prayed him to tell him that I was afeard that my coach would
be gone, and that he should go down and steal one of the seats out of
the coach and keep it, and that would make the coachman to stay. He did
this, so that the dumb boy did go down, and, like a cunning rogue, went
into the coach, pretending to sleep; and, by and by, fell to his work,
but finds the seats nailed to the coach. So he did all he could, but
could not do it; however, stayed there, and stayed the coach till the
coachman’s patience was quite spent, and beat the dumb boy by force, and
so went away. So the dumb boy come up and told him all the story,
which they below did see all that passed, and knew it to be true. After
supper, another dance or two, and then newes that the fire is as great
as ever, which put us all to our wit’s-end; and I mightily [anxious] to
go home, but the coach being gone, and it being about ten at night, and
rainy dirty weather, I knew not what to do; but to walk out with Mr.
Batelier, myself resolving to go home on foot, and leave the women
there. And so did; but at the Savoy got a coach, and come back and took
up the women; and so, having, by people come from the fire, understood
that the fire was overcome, and all well, we merrily parted, and home.
Stopped by several guards and constables quite through the town, round
the wall, as we went, all being in armes. We got well home ....
Being come home, we to cards, till two in the morning, and drinking
lamb’s-wool.
[A beverage consisting of ale mixed with sugar, nutmeg, and the pulp
of roasted apples. “A cupp of lamb’s-wool they dranke unto him
then.” The King and the Miller of Mansfield (Percy’s “Reliques,”
Series III., book ii., No. 20).]
So to bed.
10th. Up and to the office, where Sir W. Coventry come to tell us that
the Parliament did fall foul of our accounts again yesterday; and we
must arme to have them examined, which I am sorry for: it will bring
great trouble to me, and shame upon the office. My head full this
morning how to carry on Captain Cocke’s bargain of hemp, which I think I
shall by my dexterity do, and to the King’s advantage as well as my own.
At noon with my Lord Bruncker and Sir Thomas Harvy, to Cocke’s house,
and there Mrs. Williams and other company, and an excellent dinner. Mr.
Temple’s wife; after dinner, fell to play on the harpsicon, till she
tired everybody, that I left the house without taking leave, and no
creature left standing by her to hear her. Thence I home and to the
office, where late doing of business, and then home. Read an hour, to
make an end of Potter’s Discourse of the Number 666, which I like all
along, but his close is most excellent; and, whether it be right or
wrong, is mighty ingenious. Then to supper and to bed. This is the fatal
day that every body hath discoursed for a long time to be the day that
the Papists, or I know not who, had designed to commit a massacre upon;
but, however, I trust in God we shall rise to-morrow morning as well
as ever. This afternoon Creed comes to me, and by him, as, also my Lady
Pen, I hear that my Lady Denham is exceeding sick, even to death, and
that she says, and every body else discourses, that she is poysoned; and
Creed tells me, that it is said that there hath been a design to poison
the King. What the meaning of all these sad signs is, the Lord knows;
but every day things look worse and worse. God fit us for the worst!
11th (Lord’s day). Up, and to church, myself and wife, where the
old dunce Meriton, brother to the known Meriton; of St. Martin’s,
Westminster, did make a very good sermon, beyond my expectation. Home
to dinner, and we carried in Pegg Pen, and there also come to us little
Michell and his wife, and dined very pleasantly. Anon to church, my wife
and I and Betty Michell, her husband being gone to Westminster.... Alter
church home, and I to my chamber, and there did finish the putting time
to my song of “It is decreed,” and do please myself at last and think
it will be thought a good song. By and by little Michell comes and takes
away his wife home, and my wife and brother and I to my uncle Wight’s,
where my aunt is grown so ugly and their entertainment so bad that I
am in pain to be there; nor will go thither again a good while, if sent
for, for we were sent for to-night, we had not gone else. Wooly’s wife,
a silly woman, and not very handsome, but no spirit in her at all; and
their discourse mean, and the fear of the troubles of the times hath
made them not to bring their plate to town, since it was carried out
upon the business of the fire, so that they drink in earth and a wooden
can, which I do not like. So home, and my people to bed. I late to
finish my song, and then to bed also, and the business of the firing of
the city, and the fears we have of new troubles and violences, and
the fear of fire among ourselves, did keep me awake a good while,
considering the sad condition I and my family should be in. So at last
to sleep.
12th. Lay long in bed, and then up, and Mr. Carcasse brought me near
500 tickets to sign, which I did, and by discourse find him a cunning,
confident, shrewd man, but one that I do doubt hath by his discourse of
the ill will he hath got with my Lord Marquess of Dorchester (with whom
he lived), he hath had cunning practices in his time, and would not now
spare to use the same to his profit. That done I to the office; whither
by and by comes Creed to me, and he and I walked in the garden a little,
talking of the present ill condition of things, which is the common
subject of all men’s discourse and fears now-a-days, and particularly
of my Lady Denham, whom everybody says is poisoned, and he tells me she
hath said it to the Duke of York; but is upon the mending hand, though
the town says she is dead this morning. He and I to the ‘Change. There I
had several little errands, and going to Sir R. Viner’s, I did get
such a splash and spots of dirt upon my new vest, that I was out of
countenance to be seen in the street. This day I received 450 pieces
of gold more of Mr. Stokes, but cost me 22 1/2d. change; but I am well
contented with it,--I having now near L2800 in gold, and will not rest
till I get full L3000, and then will venture my fortune for the saving
that and the rest. Home to dinner, though Sir R. Viner would have staid
us to dine with him, he being sheriffe; but, poor man, was so out of
countenance that he had no wine ready to drink to us, his butler being
out of the way, though we know him to be a very liberal man. And after
dinner I took my wife out, intending to have gone and have seen my
Lady Jemimah, at White Hall, but so great a stop there was at the New
Exchange, that we could not pass in half an houre, and therefore ‘light
and bought a little matter at the Exchange, and then home, and then at
the office awhile, and then home to my chamber, and after my wife and
all the mayds abed but Jane, whom I put confidence in--she and I, and
my brother, and Tom, and W. Hewer, did bring up all the remainder of my
money, and my plate-chest, out of the cellar, and placed the money in my
study, with the rest, and the plate in my dressing-room; but indeed I
am in great pain to think how to dispose of my money, it being wholly
unsafe to keep it all in coin in one place. ‘But now I have it all at my
hand, I shall remember it better to think of disposing of it. This done,
by one in the morning to bed. This afternoon going towards Westminster,
Creed and I did stop, the Duke of York being just going away from seeing
of it, at Paul’s, and in the Convocation House Yard did there see the
body of Robert Braybrooke, Bishop of London, that died 1404: He fell
down in his tomb out of the great church into St. Fayth’s this late
fire, and is here seen his skeleton with the flesh on; but all tough and
dry like a spongy dry leather, or touchwood all upon his bones. His
head turned aside. A great man in his time, and Lord Chancellor; and his
skeletons now exposed to be handled and derided by some, though admired
for its duration by others. Many flocking to see it.
13th. At the office all the morning, at noon home to dinner, and out to
Bishopsgate Street, and there bought some drinking-glasses, a case of
knives, and other things, against tomorrow, in expectation of my Lord
Hinchingbroke’s coming to dine with me. So home, and having set some
things in the way of doing, also against to-morrow, I to my office,
there to dispatch business, and do here receive notice from my Lord
Hinchingbroke that he is not well, and so not in condition to come to
dine with me to-morrow, which I am not in much trouble for, because
of the disorder my house is in, by the bricklayers coming to mend the
chimney in my dining-room for smoking, which they were upon almost till
midnight, and have now made it very pretty, and do carry smoke exceeding
well. This evening come all the Houblons to me, to invite me to sup with
them to-morrow night. I did take them home, and there we sat and talked
a good while, and a glass of wine, and then parted till to-morrow night.
So at night, well satisfied in the alteration of my chimney, to bed.
14th. Up, and by water to White Hall, and thence to Westminster, where
I bought several things, as a hone, ribbon, gloves, books, and then took
coach and to Knipp’s lodging, whom I find not ready to go home with me.
So I away to do a little business, among others to call upon Mr. Osborne
for my Tangier warrant for the last quarter, and so to the Exchange
for some things for my wife, and then to Knipp’s again, and there staid
reading of Waller’s verses, while she finished dressing, her husband
being by. I had no other pastime. Her lodging very mean, and the
condition she lives in; yet makes a shew without doors, God bless us! I
carried him along with us into the City, and set him down in Bishopsgate
Street, and then home with her. She tells me how Smith, of the Duke’s
house, hath killed a man upon a quarrel in play; which makes every body
sorry, he being a good actor, and, they say, a good man, however this
happens. The ladies of the Court do much bemoan him, she says. Here she
and we alone at dinner to some good victuals, that we could not put off,
that was intended for the great dinner of my Lord Hinchingbroke’s, if
he had come. After dinner I to teach her my new recitative of “It is
decreed,” of which she learnt a good part, and I do well like it and
believe shall be well pleased when she hath it all, and that it will
be found an agreeable thing. Then carried her home, and my wife and I
intended to have seen my Lady Jemimah at White Hall, but the Exchange
Streete was so full of coaches, every body, as they say, going thither
to make themselves fine against tomorrow night, that, after half an
hour’s stay, we could not do any [thing], only my wife to see her
brother, and I to go speak one word with Sir G. Carteret about office
business, and talk of the general complexion of matters, which he looks
upon, as I do, with horrour, and gives us all for an undone people.
That there is no such thing as a peace in hand, nor possibility of any
without our begging it, they being as high, or higher, in their terms
than ever, and tells me that, just now, my Lord Hollis had been with
him, and wept to think in what a condition we are fallen. He shewed
me my Lord Sandwich’s letter to him, complaining of the lack of money,
which Sir G. Carteret is at a loss how in the world to get the King
to supply him with, and wishes him, for that reason, here; for that he
fears he will be brought to disgrace there, for want of supplies. He
says the House is yet in a bad humour; and desiring to know whence it is
that the King stirs not, he says he minds it not, nor will be brought
to it, and that his servants of the House do, instead of making the
Parliament better, rather play the rogue one with another, and will put
all in fire. So that, upon the whole, we are in a wretched condition,
and I went from him in full apprehensions of it. So took up my wife, her
brother being yet very bad, and doubtful whether he will recover or no,
and so to St. Ellen’s [St. Helen’s], and there sent my wife home, and
myself to the Pope’s Head, where all the Houblons were, and Dr. Croone,
[William Croune, or Croone, of Emanuel College, Cambridge, chosen
Rhetoric Professor at Gresham College, 1659, F.R.S. and M.D. Died
October 12th, 1684, and was interred at St. Mildred’s in the
Poultry. He was a prominent Fellow of the Royal Society and first
Registrar. In accordance with his wishes his widow (who married Sir
Edwin Sadleir, Bart.) left by will one-fifth of the clear rent of
the King’s Head tavern in or near Old Fish Street, at the corner of
Lambeth Hill, to the Royal Society for the support of a lecture and
illustrative experiments for the advancement of natural knowledge on
local motion. The Croonian lecture is still delivered before the
Royal Society.]
and by and by to an exceeding pretty supper, excellent discourse of all
sorts, and indeed [they] are a set of the finest gentlemen that ever I
met withal in my life. Here Dr. Croone told me, that, at the meeting at
Gresham College to-night, which, it seems, they now have every Wednesday
again, there was a pretty experiment of the blood of one dogg let out,
till he died, into the body of another on one side, while all his own
run out on the other side.
[At the meeting on November 14th, “the experiment of transfusing the
blood of one dog into another was made before the Society by Mr.
King and Mr. Thomas Coxe upon a little mastiff and a spaniel with
very good success, the former bleeding to death, and the latter
receiving the blood of the other, and emitting so much of his own,
as to make him capable of receiving that of the other.” On November
21st the spaniel “was produced and found very well” (Birch’s
“History of the Royal Society,” vol. ii., pp. 123, 125). The
experiment of transfusion of blood, which occupied much of the
attention of the Royal Society in its early days, was revived within
the last few years.]
The first died upon the place, and the other very well, and likely to do
well. This did give occasion to many pretty wishes, as of the blood of
a Quaker to be let into an Archbishop, and such like; but, as Dr.
Croone says, may, if it takes, be of mighty use to man’s health, for
the amending of bad blood by borrowing from a better body. After supper,
James Houblon and another brother took me aside and to talk of some
businesses of their owne, where I am to serve them, and will, and then
to talk of publique matters, and I do find that they and all merchants
else do give over trade and the nation for lost, nothing being done
with care or foresight, no convoys granted, nor any thing done to
satisfaction; but do think that the Dutch and French will master us the
next yeare, do what we can: and so do I, unless necessity makes the King
to mind his business, which might yet save all. Here we sat talking till
past one in the morning, and then home, where my people sat up for me,
my wife and all, and so to bed.
15th. This [morning] come Mr. Shepley (newly out of the country) to see
me; after a little discourse with him, I to the office, where we sat
all the morning, and at noon home, and there dined, Shepley with me, and
after dinner I did pay him L70, which he had paid my father for my use
in the country. He being gone, I took coach and to Mrs. Pierce’s, where
I find her as fine as possible, and himself going to the ball at night
at Court, it being the Queen’s birth-day, and so I carried them in my
coach, and having set them into the house, and gotten Mr. Pierce to
undertake the carrying in my wife, I to Unthanke’s, where she appointed
to be, and there told her, and back again about business to White Hall,
while Pierce went and fetched her and carried her in. I, after I had met
with Sir W. Coventry and given him some account of matters, I also to
the ball, and with much ado got up to the loft, where with much trouble
I could see very well. Anon the house grew full, and the candles light,
and the King and Queen and all the ladies set: and it was, indeed, a
glorious sight to see Mrs. Stewart in black and white lace, and her head
and shoulders dressed with dyamonds, and the like a great many great
ladies more, only the Queen none; and the King in his rich vest of some
rich silke and silver trimming, as the Duke of York and all the dancers
were, some of cloth of silver, and others of other sorts, exceeding
rich. Presently after the King was come in, he took the Queene, and
about fourteen more couple there was, and began the Bransles. As many
of the men as I can remember presently, were, the King, Duke of York,
Prince Rupert, Duke of Monmouth, Duke of Buckingham, Lord Douglas,’ Mr.
[George] Hamilton, Colonell Russell, Mr. Griffith, Lord Ossory, Lord
Rochester; and of the ladies, the Queene, Duchess of York, Mrs.
Stewart, Duchess of Monmouth, Lady Essex Howard, Mrs. Temples Swedes
Embassadress, Lady Arlington; Lord George Barkeley’s daughter, and
many others I remember not; but all most excellently dressed in rich
petticoats and gowns, and dyamonds, and pearls. After the Bransles, then
to a Corant, and now and then a French dance; but that so rare that the
Corants grew tiresome, that I wished it done. Only Mrs. Stewart danced
mighty finely, and many French dances, specially one the King called
the New Dance, which was very pretty; but upon the whole matter, the
business of the dancing of itself was not extraordinary pleasing. But
the clothes and sight of the persons was indeed very pleasing, and worth
my coming, being never likely to see more gallantry while I live, if I
should come twenty times. About twelve at night it broke up, and I to
hire a coach with much difficulty, but Pierce had hired a chair for my
wife, and so she being gone to his house, he and I, taking up Barker at
Unthanke’s, to his house, whither his wife was come home a good while
ago and gone to bed. So away home with my wife, between displeased with
the dull dancing, and satisfied at the clothes and persons. My Lady
Castlemayne, without whom all is nothing, being there, very rich, though
not dancing. And so after supper, it being very cold, to bed.
16th. Up again betimes to attend the examination of Mr. Gawden’s,
accounts, where we all met, but I did little but fit myself for the
drawing my great letter to the Duke of York of the state of the Navy
for want of money. At noon to the ‘Change, and thence back to the new
taverne come by us; the Three Tuns, where D. Gawden did feast us all
with a chine of beef and other good things, and an infinite dish of
fowl, but all spoiled in the dressing. This noon I met with Mr. Hooke,
and he tells me the dog which was filled with another dog’s blood, at
the College the other day, is very well, and like to be so as ever, and
doubts not its being found of great use to men; and so do Dr. Whistler,
who dined with us at the taverne. Thence home in the evening, and I to
my preparing my letter, and did go a pretty way in it, staying late upon
it, and then home to supper and to bed, the weather being on a sudden
set in to be very cold.
17th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to
dinner, and in the afternoon shut myself in my chamber, and there till
twelve at night finishing my great letter to the Duke of York, which do
lay the ill condition of the Navy so open to him, that it is impossible
if the King and he minds any thing of their business, but it will
operate upon them to set all matters right, and get money to carry on
the war, before it be too late, or else lay out for a peace upon any
termes. It was a great convenience to-night that what I had writ foule
in short hand, I could read to W. Hewer, and he take it fair in short
hand, so as I can read it to-morrow to Sir W. Coventry, and then come
home, and Hewer read it to me while I take it in long-hand to present,
which saves me much time. So to bed.
18th (Lord’s day). Up by candle-light and on foote to White Hall, where
by appointment I met Lord Bruncker at Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, and
there I read over my great letter, and they approved it: and as I do do
our business in defence of the Board, so I think it is as good a letter
in the manner, and believe it is the worst in the matter of it, as ever
come from any office to a Prince. Back home in my Lord Bruncker’s coach,
and there W. Hewer and I to write it over fair; dined at noon, and
Mercer with us, and mighty merry, and then to finish my letter; and it
being three o’clock ere we had done, when I come to Sir W. Batten; he
was in a huffe, which I made light of, but he signed the letter, though
he would not go, and liked the letter well. Sir W. Pen, it seems, he
would not stay for it: so, making slight of Sir W. Pen’s putting so much
weight upon his hand to Sir W. Batten, I down to the Tower Wharf, and
there got a sculler, and to White Hall, and there met Lord Bruncker, and
he signed it, and so I delivered it to Mr. Cheving,
[William Chiffinch, pimp to Charles II. and receiver of the secret
pensions paid by the French Court. He succeeded his brother, Thomas
Chiffinch (who died in April, 1666), as Keeper of the King’s Private
Closet (see note, vol. v., p. 265). He is introduced by Scott into
his “Peveril of the Peak.”]
and he to Sir W. Coventry, in the cabinet, the King and councill being
sitting, where I leave it to its fortune, and I by water home again, and
to my chamber, to even my Journall; and then comes Captain Cocke to me,
and he and I a great deal of melancholy discourse of the times, giving
all over for gone, though now the Parliament will soon finish the Bill
for money. But we fear, if we had it, as matters are now managed, we
shall never make the best of it, but consume it all to no purpose or a
bad one. He being gone, I again to my Journall and finished it, and so
to supper and to bed.
19th. Lay pretty long in bed talking with pleasure with my wife, and
then up and all the morning at my own chamber fitting some Tangier
matters against the afternoon for a meeting. This morning also came Mr.
Caesar, and I heard him on the lute very finely, and my boy begins to
play well. After dinner I carried and set my wife down at her brother’s,
and then to Barkeshire-house, where my Lord Chancellor hath been ever
since the fire, but he is not come home yet, so I to Westminster Hall,
where the Lords newly up and the Commons still sitting. Here I met with
Mr. Robinson, who did give me a printed paper wherein he states his
pretence to the post office, and intends to petition the Parliament in
it. Thence I to the Bull-head tavern, where I have not been since Mr.
Chetwind and the time of our club, and here had six bottles of claret
filled, and I sent them to Mrs. Martin, whom I had promised some of
my owne, and, having none of my owne, sent her this. Thence to my Lord
Chancellor’s, and there Mr. Creed and Gawden, Cholmley, and Sir G.
Carteret walking in the Park over against the house. I walked with Sir
G. Carteret, who I find displeased with the letter I have drawn and sent
in yesterday, finding fault with the account we give of the ill state of
the Navy, but I said little, only will justify the truth of it. Here we
walked to and again till one dropped away after another, and so I
took coach to White Hall, and there visited my Lady Jemimah, at Sir G.
Carteret’s lodgings. Here was Sir Thomas Crew, and he told me how hot
words grew again to-day in the House of Lords between my Lord Ossory and
Ashly, the former saying that something said by the other was said like
one of Oliver’s Council. Ashly said that he must give him reparation,
or he would take it his owne way. The House therefore did bring my Lord
Ossory to confess his fault, and ask pardon for it, as he was also to
my Lord Buckingham, for saying that something was not truth that my Lord
Buckingham had said. This will render my Lord Ossory very little in a
little time. By and by away, and calling my wife went home, and then a
little at Sir W. Batten’s to hear news, but nothing, and then home to
supper, whither Captain Cocke, half foxed, come and sat with us, and so
away, and then we to bed.
20th. Called up by Mr. Sheply, who is going into the country to-day to
Hinchingbroke, I sent my service to my Lady, and in general for newes:
that the world do think well of my Lord, and do wish he were here again,
but that the publique matters of the State as to the war are in the
worst condition that is possible. By and by Sir W. Warren, and with him
half an hour discoursing of several businesses, and some I hope will
bring me a little profit. He gone, and Sheply, I to the office a little,
and then to church, it being thanksgiving-day for the cessation of the
plague; but, Lord! how the towne do say that it is hastened before the
plague is quite over, there dying some people still,
[According to the Bills of Mortality seven persons died in London of
the plague during the week November 20th to 27th; and for some weeks
after deaths continued from this cause.]
but only to get ground for plays to be publickly acted, which the
Bishops would not suffer till the plague was over; and one would thinke
so, by the suddenness of the notice given of the day, which was last
Sunday, and the little ceremony. The sermon being dull of Mr. Minnes,
and people with great indifferency come to hear him. After church home,
where I met Mr. Gregory, who I did then agree with to come to teach
my wife to play on the Viall, and he being an able and sober man, I am
mightily glad of it. He had dined, therefore went away, and I to dinner,
and after dinner by coach to Barkeshire-house, and there did get a very
great meeting; the Duke of York being there, and much business done,
though not in proportion to the greatness of the business, and my Lord
Chancellor sleeping and snoring the greater part of the time. Among
other things I declared the state of our credit as to tallys to raise
money by, and there was an order for payment of L5000 to Mr. Gawden, out
of which I hope to get something against Christmas. Here we sat late,
and here I did hear that there are some troubles like to be in Scotland,
there being a discontented party already risen, that have seized on the
Governor of Dumfreeze and imprisoned him,
[William Fielding, writing to Sir Phil. Musgrave from Carlisle on
November 15th, says: “Major Baxter, who has arrived from Dumfries,
reports that this morning a great number of horse and foot came into
that town, with drawn swords and pistols, gallopped up to Sir Jas.
Turner’s lodgings, seized him in his bed, carried him without
clothes to the marketplace, threatened to cut him to pieces, and
seized and put into the Tollbooth all the foot soldiers that were
with him; they also secured the minister of Dumfries. Many of the
party were lairds and county people from Galloway--200 horse well
mounted, one minister was with them who had swords and pistols, and
200 or 300 foot, some with clubs, others with scythes.” On November
17th Rob. Meine wrote to Williamson: “On the 15th 120 fanatics from
the Glenkins, Deray; and neighbouring parishes in Dumfriesshire,
none worth L10 except two mad fellows, the lairds of Barscob and
Corsuck, came to Dumfries early in the morning, seized Sir Jas.
Turner, commander of a company of men in Dumfriesshire, and carried
him, without violence to others, to a strong house in Maxwell town,
Galloway, declaring they sought only revenge against the tyrant who
had been severe with them for not keeping to church, and had laid
their families waste” (“Calendar of State Papers,” 1666-67, pp. 262,
268).]
but the story is yet very uncertain, and therefore I set no great weight
on it. I home by Mr. Gawden in his coach, and so with great pleasure to
spend the evening at home upon my Lyra Viall, and then to supper and to
bed. With mighty peace of mind and a hearty desire that I had but what I
have quietly in the country, but, I fear, I do at this day see the best
that either I or the rest of our nation will ever see.
21st. Up, with Sir W. Batten to Charing Cross, and thence I to wait on
Sir Philip Howard, whom I find dressing himself in his night-gown and
turban like a Turke, but one of the finest persons that ever I saw in
my life. He had several gentlemen of his owne waiting on him, and one
playing finely on the gittar: he discourses as well as ever I heard man,
in few words and handsome. He expressed all kindness to Balty, when I
told him how sick he is: he says that, before he comes to be mustered
again, he must bring a certificate of his swearing the oaths of
Allegiance and Supremacy, and having taken the Sacrament according to
the rites of the Church of England. This, I perceive, is imposed on all,
and he will be ready to do. I pray God he may have his health again to
be able to do it. Being mightily satisfied with his civility, I away
to Westminster Hall, and there walked with several people, and all the
discourse is about some trouble in Scotland I heard of yesterday, but
nobody can tell the truth of it. Here was Betty Michell with her mother.
I would have carried her home, but her father intends to go with her, so
I lost my hopes. And thence I to the Excise Office about some tallies,
and then to the Exchange, where I did much business, and so home to
dinner, and then to the office, where busy all the afternoon till night,
and then home to supper, and after supper an hour reading to my wife and
brother something in Chaucer with great pleasure, and so to bed.
22nd. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and my Lord
Bruncker did show me Hollar’s new print of the City, with a pretty
representation of that part which is burnt, very fine indeed; and tells
me that he was yesterday sworn the King’s servant, and that the King
hath commanded him to go on with his great map of the City, which he was
upon before the City was burned, like Gombout of Paris, which I am
glad of. At noon home to dinner, where my wife and I fell out, I being
displeased with her cutting away a lace handkercher sewed about the neck
down to her breasts almost, out of a belief, but without reason, that it
is the fashion. Here we did give one another the lie too much, but were
presently friends, and then I to my office, where very late and did much
business, and then home, and there find Mr. Batelier, and did sup and
play at cards awhile. But he tells me the newes how the King of France
hath, in defiance to the King of England, caused all his footmen to be
put into vests, and that the noblemen of France will do the like; which,
if true, is the greatest indignity ever done by one Prince to another,
and would incite a stone to be revenged; and I hope our King will, if it
be so, as he tells me it is:
[Planche throws some doubt on this story in his “Cyclopaedia of
Costume” (vol. ii., p. 240), and asks the question, “Was Mr.
Batelier hoaxing the inquisitive secretary, or was it the idle
gossip of the day, as untrustworthy as such gossip is in general?”
But the same statement was made by the author of the “Character of a
Trimmer,” who wrote from actual knowledge of the Court: “About this
time a general humour, in opposition to France, had made us throw
off their fashion, and put on vests, that we might look more like a
distinct people, and not be under the servility of imitation, which
ever pays a greater deference to the original than is consistent
with the equality all independent nations should pretend to. France
did not like this small beginning of ill humours, at least of
emulation; and wisely considering, that it is a natural
introduction, first to make the world their apes, that they may be
afterwards their slaves. It was thought, that one of the
instructions Madame [Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans] brought along
with her, was to laugh us out of these vests; which she performed so
effectually, that in a moment, like so many footmen who had quitted
their master’s livery, we all took it again, and returned to our old
service; so that the very time of doing it gave a very critical
advantage to France, since it looked like an evidence of our
returning to her interest, as well as to their fashion. “The
Character of a Trimmer” (“Miscellanies by the Marquis of Halifax,”
1704, p. 164). Evelyn reports that when the king expressed his
intention never to alter this fashion, “divers courtiers and
gentlemen gave his Majesty gold by way of wager that he would not
persist in this resolution” (“Diary,” October 18th, 1666).]
being told by one that come over from Paris with my Lady Fanshaw, who is
come over with the dead body of her husband, and that saw it before he
come away. This makes me mighty merry, it being an ingenious kind of
affront; but yet it makes me angry, to see that the King of England is
become so little as to have the affront offered him. So I left my people
at cards, and so to my chamber to read, and then to bed. Batelier did
bring us some oysters to-night, and some bottles of new French wine of
this year, mighty good, but I drank but little. This noon Bagwell’s wife
was with me at the office, and I did what I would, and at night comes
Mrs. Burroughs, and appointed to meet upon the next holyday and go
abroad together.
23rd. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to White Hall, where we and the rest
attended the Duke of York, where, among other things, we had a complaint
of Sir William Jennings against his lieutenant, Le Neve, one that had
been long the Duke’s page, and for whom the Duke of York hath great
kindness. It was a drunken quarrel, where one was as blameable as the
other. It was referred to further examination, but the Duke of
York declared, that as he would not favour disobedience, so neither
drunkenness, and therein he said very well. Thence with Sir W. Coventry
to Westminster Hall, and there parted, he having told me how Sir J.
Minnes do disagree from the proposition of resigning his place, and that
so the whole matter is again at a stand, at which I am sorry for the
King’s sake, but glad that Sir W. Pen is again defeated, for I would not
have him come to be Comptroller if I could help it, he will be so cruel
proud. Here I spoke with Sir G. Downing about our prisoners in Holland,
and their being released; which he is concerned in, and most of them
are. Then, discoursing of matters of the House of Parliament, he tells
me that it is not the fault of the House, but the King’s own party, that
have hindered the passing of the Bill for money, by their popping in
of new projects for raising it: which is a strange thing; and mighty
confident he is, that what money is raised, will be raised and put into
the same form that the last was, to come into the Exchequer; and, for
aught I see, I must confess I think it is the best way. Thence down to
the Hall, and there walked awhile, and all the talk is about Scotland,
what news thence; but there is nothing come since the first report, and
so all is given over for nothing. Thence home, and after dinner to my
chamber with Creed, who come and dined with me, and he and I to reckon
for his salary, and by and by comes in Colonel Atkins, and I did the
like with him, and it was Creed’s design to bring him only for his
own ends, to seem to do him a courtesy, and it is no great matter. The
fellow I hate, and so I think all the world else do. Then to talk of
my report I am to make of the state of our wants of money to the Lord
Treasurer, but our discourse come to little. However, in the evening, to
be rid of him, I took coach and saw him to the Temple and there ‘light,
and he being gone, with all the haste back again and to my chamber late
to enter all this day’s matters of account, and to draw up my report to
my Lord Treasurer, and so to bed. At the Temple I called at Playford’s,
and there find that his new impression of his ketches
[John Hilton’s “Catch that catch can, or a Choice Collection of
Catches, Rounds and Canons for 3 or 4 voyces,” was first published
by Playford in 1651 or 1652. The book was republished “with large
additions by John Playford” in 1658. The edition referred to in the
text was published in 1667 with a second title of “The Musical
Companion.” The book was republished in 1672-73.]
are not yet out, the fire having hindered it, but his man tells me that
it will be a very fine piece, many things new being added to it.
24th. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon rose
and to my closet, and finished my report to my Lord Treasurer of our
Tangier wants, and then with Sir J. Minnes by coach to Stepney to the
Trinity House, where it is kept again now since the burning of their
other house in London. And here a great many met at Sir Thomas Allen’s
feast, of his being made an Elder Brother; but he is sick, and so
could not be there. Here was much good company, and very merry; but the
discourse of Scotland, it seems, is confirmed, and that they are 4000 of
them in armes, and do declare for King and Covenant, which is very ill
news. I pray God deliver us from the ill consequences we may justly fear
from it. Here was a good venison pasty or two and other good victuals;
but towards the latter end of the dinner I rose, and without taking
leave went away from the table, and got Sir J. Minnes’ coach and away
home, and thence with my report to my Lord Treasurer’s, where I did
deliver it to Sir Philip Warwicke for my Lord, who was busy, my report
for him to consider against to-morrow’s council. Sir Philip Warwicke, I
find, is full of trouble in his mind to see how things go, and what
our wants are; and so I have no delight to trouble him with discourse,
though I honour the man with all my heart, and I think him to be a very
able and right honest man. So away home again, and there to my office
to write my letters very late, and then home to supper, and then to read
the late printed discourse of witches by a member of Gresham College,
and then to bed; the discourse being well writ, in good stile, but
methinks not very convincing. This day Mr. Martin is come to tell me his
wife is brought to bed of a girle, and I promised to christen it next
Sunday.
25th (Lord’s day). Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to White Hall,
and there coming late, I to rights to the chapel, where in my usual
place I heard one of the King’s chaplains, one Mr. Floyd, preach. He was
out two or three times in his prayer, and as many in his sermon, but yet
he made a most excellent good sermon, of our duty to imitate the
lives and practice of Christ and the saints departed, and did it very
handsomely and excellent stile; but was a little overlarge in magnifying
the graces of the nobility and prelates, that we have seen in our
memorys in the world, whom God hath taken from us. At the end of
the sermon an excellent anthem; but it was a pleasant thing, an
idle companion in our pew, a prating, bold counsellor that hath been
heretofore at the Navy Office, and noted for a great eater and drinker,
not for quantity, but of the best, his name Tom Bales, said, “I know a
fitter anthem for this sermon,” speaking only of our duty of following
the saints, and I know not what. “Cooke should have sung, ‘Come, follow,
follow me.’” I After sermon up into the gallery, and then to Sir G.
Carteret’s to dinner; where much company. Among others, Mr. Carteret and
my Lady Jemimah, and here was also Mr. [John] Ashburnham, the great man,
who is a pleasant man, and that hath seen much of the world, and more
of the Court. After dinner Sir G. Carteret and I to another room, and he
tells me more and more of our want of money and in how ill condition
we are likely to be soon in, and that he believes we shall not have a
fleete at sea the next year. So do I believe; but he seems to speak
it as a thing expected by the King and as if their matters were laid
accordingly. Thence into the Court and there delivered copies of my
report to my Lord Treasurer, to the Duke of York, Sir W. Coventry, and
others, and attended there till the Council met, and then was called
in, and I read my letter. My Lord Treasurer declared that the King had
nothing to give till the Parliament did give him some money. So the King
did of himself bid me to declare to all that would take our tallys for
payment, that he should, soon as the Parliament’s money do come in, take
back their tallys, and give them money: which I giving him occasion to
repeat to me, it coming from him against the ‘gre’
[Apparently a translation of the French ‘contre le gre’, and
presumably an expression in common use. “Against the grain” is
generally supposed to have its origin in the use of a plane against
the grain of the wood.]
I perceive, of my Lord Treasurer, I was content therewith, and went
out, and glad that I have got so much. Here staid till the Council
rose, walking in the gallery. All the talke being of Scotland, where
the highest report, I perceive, runs but upon three or four hundred in
armes; but they believe that it will grow more, and do seem to apprehend
it much, as if the King of France had a hand in it. My Lord Lauderdale
do make nothing of it, it seems, and people do censure him for it, he
from the beginning saying that there was nothing in it, whereas it do
appear to be a pure rebellion; but no persons of quality being in it,
all do hope that it cannot amount to much. Here I saw Mrs. Stewart this
afternoon, methought the beautifullest creature that ever I saw in my
life, more than ever I thought her so, often as I have seen her; and I
begin to think do exceed my Lady Castlemayne, at least now. This being
St. Catherine’s day, the Queene was at masse by seven o’clock this
morning; and. Mr. Ashburnham do say that he never saw any one have so
much zeale in his life as she hath: and, the question being asked by my
Lady Carteret, much beyond the bigotry that ever the old Queen-mother
had. I spoke with Mr. Maya who tells me that the design of building the
City do go on apace, and by his description it will be mighty handsome,
and to the satisfaction of the people; but I pray God it come not out
too late. The Council up, after speaking with Sir W. Coventry a little,
away home with Captain Cocke in his coach, discourse about the forming
of his contract he made with us lately for hempe, and so home, where we
parted, and I find my uncle Wight and Mrs. Wight and Woolly, who staid
and supped, and mighty merry together, and then I to my chamber to even
my journal, and then to bed. I will remember that Mr. Ashburnham
to-day at dinner told how the rich fortune Mrs. Mallett reports of her
servants; that my Lord Herbert would have had her; my Lord Hinchingbroke
was indifferent to have her;
[They had quarrelled (see August 26th). She, perhaps, was piqued at
Lord Hinchingbroke’s refusal “to compass the thing without consent
of friends” (see February 25th), whence her expression,
“indifferent” to have her. It is worthy of remark that their
children intermarried; Lord Hinchingbroke’s son married Lady
Rochester’s daughter.--B.]
my Lord John Butler might not have her; my Lord of Rochester would have
forced her;
[Of the lady thus sought after, whom Pepys calls “a beauty” as well
as a fortune, and who shortly afterwards, about the 4th February,
1667, became the wife of the Earl of Rochester, then not twenty
years old, no authentic portrait is known to exist. When Mr.
Miller, of Albemarle Street, in 1811, proposed to publish an edition
of the “Memoires de Grammont,” he sent an artist to Windsor to copy
there the portraits which he could find of those who figure in that
work. In the list given to him for this purpose was the name of
Lady Rochester. Not finding amongst the “Beauties,” or elsewhere,
any genuine portrait of her, but seeing that by Hamilton she is
absurdly styled “une triste heritiere,” the artist made a drawing
from some unknown portrait at Windsor of a lady of a sorrowful
countenance, and palmed it off upon the bookseller. In the edition
of “Grammont” it is not actually called Lady Rochester, but “La
Triste Heritiere.” A similar falsification had been practised in
Edwards’s edition of 1793, but a different portrait had been copied.
It is needless, almost, to remark how ill applied is Hamilton’s
epithet.--B.]
and Sir------Popham, who nevertheless is likely to have her, would kiss
her breach to have her.
26th. Up, and to my chamber to do some business. Then to speak with
several people, among others with Mrs. Burroughs, whom I appointed to
meet me at the New Exchange in the afternoon. I by water to Westminster,
and there to enquire after my tallies, which I shall get this week.
Thence to the Swan, having sent for some burnt claret, and there by
and by comes Doll Lane, and she and I sat and drank and talked a great
while, among other things about her sister’s being brought to bed, and
I to be godfather to the girle. I did tumble Doll, and do almost what
I would with her, and so parted, and I took coach, and to the New
Exchange, buying a neat’s tongue by the way, thinking to eat it out of
town, but there I find Burroughs in company of an old woman, an aunt of
hers, whom she could not leave for half an hour. So after buying a few
baubles to while away time, I down to Westminster, and there into the
House of Parliament, where, at a great Committee, I did hear, as long
as I would, the great case against my Lord Mordaunt, for some arbitrary
proceedings of his against one Taylor, whom he imprisoned, and did all
the violence to imaginable, only to get him to give way to his abusing
his daughter. Here was Mr. Sawyer, my old chamber-fellow, a counsel
against my Lord; and I am glad to see him in so good play. Here I met,
before the committee sat, with my cozen Roger Pepys, the first time I
have spoke with him this parliament. He hath promised to come, and bring
Madam Turner with him, who is come to towne to see the City, but hath
lost all her goods of all kinds in Salisbury Court, Sir William Turner
having not endeavoured, in her absence, to save one penny, to dine with
me on Friday next, of which I am glad. Roger bids me to help him to some
good rich widow; for he is resolved to go, and retire wholly, into
the country; for, he says, he is confident we shall be all ruined very
speedily, by what he sees in the State, and I am much in his mind.
Having staid as long as I thought fit for meeting of Burroughs, I away
and to the ‘Change again, but there I do not find her now, I having
staid too long at the House, and therefore very hungry, having eat
nothing to-day. Home, and there to eat presently, and then to the office
a little, and to Sir W. Batten, where Sir J. Minnes and Captain Cocke
was; but no newes from the North at all to-day; and the newes-book makes
the business nothing, but that they are all dispersed. I pray God it may
prove so. So home, and, after a little, to my chamber to bed.
27th. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and here I
had a letter from Mr. Brisband on another occasion, which, by the by,
intimates my Lord Hinchingbroke’s intention to come and dine with me
to-morrow. This put me into a great surprise, and therefore endeavoured
all I could to hasten over our business at the office, and so home at
noon and to dinner, and then away by coach, it being a very foul day, to
White Hall, and there at Sir G. Carteret’s find my Lord Hinchingbroke,
who promises to dine with me to-morrow, and bring Mr. Carteret along
with him. Here I staid a little while talking with him and the ladies,
and then away to my Lord Crew’s, and then did by the by make a visit to
my Lord Crew, and had some good discourse with him, he doubting that all
will break in pieces in the kingdom; and that the taxes now coming out,
which will tax the same man in three or four several capacities, as for
lands, office, profession, and money at interest, will be the hardest
that ever come out; and do think that we owe it, and the lateness of its
being given, wholly to the unpreparedness of the King’s own party, to
make their demand and choice; for they have obstructed the giving it by
land-tax, which had been done long since. Having ended my visit, I
spoke to Sir Thomas Crew, to invite him and his brother John to dinner
tomorrow, at my house, to meet Lord Hinchingbroke; and so homewards,
calling at the cook’s, who is to dress it, to bespeak him, and then
home, and there set things in order for a very fine dinner, and then to
the office, where late very busy and to good purpose as to dispatch of
business, and then home. To bed, my people sitting up to get things in
order against to-morrow. This evening was brought me what Griffin had,
as he says, taken this evening off of the table in the office, a letter
sealed and directed to the Principal Officers and Commissioners of the
Navy. It is a serious and just libel against our disorder in paying of
our money, making ten times more people wait than we have money for,
and complaining by name of Sir W. Batten for paying away great sums
to particular people, which is true. I was sorry to see this way of
reproach taken against us, but more sorry that there is true ground for
it.
28th. Up, and with Sir W. Pen to White Hall (setting his lady and
daughter down by the way at a mercer’s in the Strand, where they are
going to lay out some money), where, though it blows hard and rains
hard, yet the Duke of York is gone a-hunting. We therefore lost our
labour, and so back again, and by hackney coach to secure places to get
things ready against dinner, and then home, and did the like there, and
to my great satisfaction: and at noon comes my Lord Hinchingbroke, Sir
Thomas Crew, Mr. John Crew, Mr. Carteret, and Brisband. I had six noble
dishes for them, dressed by a man-cook, and commended, as indeed they
deserved, for exceeding well done. We eat with great pleasure, and I
enjoyed myself in it with reflections upon the pleasures which I at best
can expect, yet not to exceed this; eating in silver plates, and
all things mighty rich and handsome about me. A great deal of fine
discourse, sitting almost till dark at dinner, and then broke up with
great pleasure, especially to myself; and they away, only Mr. Carteret
and I to Gresham College, where they meet now weekly again, and here
they had good discourse how this late experiment of the dog, which is
in perfect good health, may be improved for good uses to men, and other
pretty things, and then broke up. Here was Mr. Henry Howard, that
will hereafter be Duke of Norfolke, who is admitted this day into the
Society, and being a very proud man, and one that values himself upon
his family, writes his name, as he do every where, Henry Howard of
Norfolke. Thence home and there comes my Lady Pen, Pegg, and Mrs.
Turner, and played at cards and supped with us, and were pretty merry,
and Pegg with me in my closet a good while, and did suffer me ‘a la
baiser mouche et toucher ses cosas’ upon her breast, wherein I had great
pleasure, and so spent the evening and then broke up, and I to bed, my
mind mightily pleased with the day’s entertainment.
29th. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning. At noon home to
dinner, where I find Balty come out to see us, but looks like death,
and I do fear he is in a consumption; he has not been abroad many
weeks before, and hath now a well day, and a fit day of the headake in
extraordinary torture. After dinner left him and his wife, they having
their mother hard by and my wife, and I a wet afternoon to White Hall
to have seen my Lady Carteret and Jemimah, but as God would have it
they were abroad, and I was well contented at it. So my wife and I to
Westminster Hall, where I left her a little, and to the Exchequer,
and then presently home again, calling at our man-cooke’s for his help
to-morrow, but he could not come. So I home to the office, my people all
busy to get a good dinner to-morrow again. I late at the office, and all
the newes I hear I put into a letter this night to my Lord Bruncker at
Chatham, thus:--
“I doubt not of your lordship’s hearing of Sir Thomas Clifford’s
succeeding Sir H. Pollard’ in the Comptrollership of the King’s
house; but perhaps our ill, but confirmed, tidings from the
Barbadoes may not [have reached you] yet, it coming but yesterday;
viz., that about eleven ships, whereof two of the King’s, the Hope
and Coventry, going thence with men to attack St. Christopher’s,
were seized by a violent hurricane, and all sunk--two only of
thirteen escaping, and those with loss of masts, &c. My Lord
Willoughby himself is involved in the disaster, and I think two
ships thrown upon an island of the French, and so all the men, to
500, become their prisoners. ‘Tis said, too, that eighteen Dutch
men-of-war are passed the Channell, in order to meet with our Smyrna
ships; and some, I hear, do fright us with the King of Sweden’s
seizing our mast-ships at Gottenburgh. But we have too much ill
newes true, to afflict ourselves with what is uncertain. That which
I hear from Scotland is, the Duke of York’s saying, yesterday, that
he is confident the Lieutenant-Generall there hath driven them into
a pound, somewhere towards the mountains.”
Having writ my letter, I home to supper and to bed, the world being
mightily troubled at the ill news from Barbadoes, and the consequence of
the Scotch business, as little as we do make of it. And to shew how mad
we are at home, here, and unfit for any troubles: my Lord St. John did,
a day or two since, openly pull a gentleman in Westminster Hall by the
nose, one Sir Andrew Henly, while the judges were upon their benches,
and the other gentleman did give him a rap over the pate with his cane,
of which fray the judges, they say, will make a great matter: men are
only sorry the gentle man did proceed to return a blow; for, otherwise,
my Lord would have been soundly fined for the affront, and may be yet
for his affront to the judges.
30th. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to White Hall, and there we did attend
the Duke of York, and had much business with him; and pretty to see, it
being St. Andrew’s day, how some few did wear St. Andrew’s crosse; but
most did make a mockery at it, and the House of Parliament, contrary
to practice, did sit also: people having no mind to observe the Scotch
saints’ days till they hear better newes from Scotland. Thence to
Westminster Hall and the Abbey, thinking as I had appointed to have met
Mrs. Burroughs there, but not meeting her I home, and just overtook
my cozen Roger Pepys, Mrs. Turner, Dicke, and Joyce Norton, coming by
invitation to dine with me. These ladies I have not seen since before
the plague. Mrs. Turner is come to towne to look after her things in her
house, but all is lost. She is quite weary of the country, but cannot
get her husband to let her live here any more, which troubles her
mightily. She was mighty angry with me, that in all this time I never
writ to her, which I do think and take to myself as a fault, and which
I have promised to mend. Here I had a noble and costly dinner for them,
dressed by a man-cooke, as that the other day was, and pretty merry
we were, as I could be with this company and so great a charge. We sat
long, and after much talk of the plenty of her country in fish, but in
nothing also that is pleasing, we broke up with great kindness, and when
it begun to be dark we parted, they in one coach home, and I in another
to Westminster Hall, where by appointment Mrs. Burroughs and I were to
meet, but did not after I had spent the whole evening there. Only I did
go drink at the Swan, and there did meet with Sarah, who is now newly
married, and there I did lay the beginnings of a future ‘amour con
elle’..... Thence it being late away called at Mrs. Burroughs’ mother’s
door, and she come out to me, and I did hazer whatever I would.... and
then parted, and home, and after some playing at cards with my wife, we
to supper and to bed.