December 1st. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, and
at noon with my people to dinner, and so to the office, very busy
till night, and then home and made my boy read to me Wilkins’s Reall
Character, which do please me mightily, and so after supper to bed with
great pleasure and content with my wife. This day I hear of poor Mr.
Clerke, the solicitor, being dead, of a cold, after being not above two
days ill, which troubles me mightily, poor man!
2nd. Up, and at the office all the morning upon some accounts of Sir
D. Gawden, and at noon abroad with W. Hewer, thinking to have found
Mr. Wren at Captain Cox’s, to have spoke something to him about doing a
favour for Will’s uncle Steventon, but missed him. And so back home and
abroad with my wife, the first time that ever I rode in my own coach,
which do make my heart rejoice, and praise God, and pray him to bless it
to me and continue it. So she and I to the King’s playhouse, and there
sat to avoid seeing Knepp in a box above where Mrs. Williams happened to
be, and there saw “The Usurper;” a pretty good play, in all but what is
designed to resemble Cromwell and Hugh Peters, which is mighty silly.
The play done, we to White Hall; where my wife staid while I up to the
Duchesse’s and Queen’s side, to speak with the Duke of York: and here
saw all the ladies, and heard the silly discourse of the King, with his
people about him, telling a story of my Lord Rochester’s having of his
clothes stole, while he was with a wench; and his gold all gone, but his
clothes found afterwards stuffed into a feather bed by the wench that
stole them. I spoke with the Duke of York, just as he was set down
to supper with the King, about our sending of victuals to Sir Thomas
Allen’s fleet hence to Cales [Cadiz] to meet him. And so back to my wife
in my coach, and so with great content and joy home, where I made my boy
to make an end of the Reall Character, which I begun a great while ago,
and do please me infinitely, and indeed is a most worthy labour, and I
think mighty easy, though my eyes make me unable to attempt any thing in
it. To-day I hear that Mr. Ackworth’s cause went for him at Guildhall,
against his accusers, which I am well enough pleased with.
3rd. Up betimes, and by water with W. Hewer to White Hall, and there
to Mr. Wren, who gives me but small hopes of the favour I hoped for Mr.
Steventon, Will’s uncle, of having leave, being upon the point of death,
to surrender his place, which do trouble me, but I will do what I can.
So back again to the Office, Sir Jer. Smith with me; who is a silly,
prating, talking man; but he tells me what he hears, that Holmes and
Spragg now rule all with the Duke of Buckingham, as to seabusiness, and
will be great men: but he do prophesy what will be the fruit of it; so I
do. So to the Office, where we sat all the morning; and at noon home
to dinner, and then abroad again, with my wife, to the Duke of York’s
playhouse, and saw “The Unfortunate Lovers;” a mean play, I think, but
some parts very good, and excellently acted. We sat under the boxes,
and saw the fine ladies; among others, my Lady Kerneguy, a who is most
devilishly painted. And so home, it being mighty pleasure to go alone
with my poor wife, in a coach of our own, to a play, and makes us appear
mighty great, I think, in the world; at least, greater than ever I
could, or my friends for me, have once expected; or, I think, than ever
any of my family ever yet lived, in my memory, but my cozen Pepys in
Salisbury Court. So to the office, and thence home to supper and to bed.
4th. Up, and with W. Hewer by water to White Hall, and there did wait as
usual upon the Duke of York, where, upon discoursing something touching
the Ticket-Office, which by letter the Board did give the Duke of York
their advice, to be put upon Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes did foolishly
rise up and complain of the Office, and his being made nothing of; and
this before Sir Thomas Littleton, who would be glad of this difference
among us, which did trouble me mightily; and therefore I did forbear
to say what I otherwise would have thought fit for me to say on this
occasion, upon so impertinent a speech as this doting fool made--but, I
say, I let it alone, and contented myself that it went as I advised,
as to the Duke of York’s judgment, in the thing disputed. And so thence
away, my coach meeting me there and carrying me to several places to
do little jobs, which is a mighty convenience, and so home, where by
invitation I find my aunt Wight, who looked over all our house, and is
mighty pleased with it, and indeed it is now mighty handsome, and rich
in furniture. By and by comes my uncle, and then to dinner, where a
venison pasty and very merry, and after dinner I carried my wife and
her to Smithfield, where they sit in the coach, while Mr. Pickering, who
meets me there, and I, and W. Hewer, and a friend of his, a jockey, did
go about to see several pairs of horses, for my coach; but it was late,
and we agreed on none, but left it to another time: but here I do see
instances of a piece of craft and cunning that I never dreamed of,
concerning the buying and choosing of horses. So Mr. Pickering, to whom
I am much beholden for his kindness herein, and I parted; and I with my
people home, where I left them, and I to the office, to meet about some
business of Sir W. Warren’s accounts, where I vexed to see how ill all
the Comptroller’s business is likely to go on, so long as ever Sir J.
Minnes lives; and so troubled I was, that I thought it a good occasion
for me to give my thoughts of it in writing, and therefore wrote a
letter at the Board, by the help of a tube, to Lord Brouncker, and
did give it him, which I kept a copy of, and it may be of use to me
hereafter to shew, in this matter. This being done, I home to my aunt,
who supped with us, and my uncle also: and a good-humoured woman she is,
so that I think we shall keep her acquaintance; but mighty proud she is
of her wedding-ring, being lately set with diamonds; cost her about L12:
and I did commend it mightily to her, but do not think it very suitable
for one of our quality. After supper they home, and we to bed.
5th. Up, after a little talk with my wife, which troubled me, she being
ever since our late difference mighty watchful of sleep and dreams,
and will not be persuaded but I do dream of Deb., and do tell me that I
speak in my dreams and that this night I did cry, Huzzy, and it must
be she, and now and then I start otherwise than I used to do, she says,
which I know not, for I do not know that I dream of her more than usual,
though I cannot deny that my thoughts waking do run now and then against
my will and judgment upon her, for that only is wanting to undo me,
being now in every other thing as to my mind most happy, and may still
be so but for my own fault, if I be catched loving any body but my wife
again. So up and to the office, and at noon to dinner, and thence to
office, where late, mighty busy, and despatching much business, settling
papers in my own office, and so home to supper, and to bed. No news
stirring, but that my Lord of Ormond is likely to go to Ireland again,
which do shew that the Duke of Buckingham do not rule all so absolutely;
and that, however, we shall speedily have more changes in the Navy: and
it is certain that the Nonconformists do now preach openly in houses,
in many places, and among others the house that was heretofore Sir G.
Carteret’s, in Leadenhall Streete, and have ready access to the King.
And now the great dispute is, whether this Parliament or another; and
my great design, if I continue in the Navy, is to get myself to be a
Parliament-man.
6th (Lord’s day). Up, and with my wife to church; which pleases me
mightily, I being full of fear that she would never go to church again,
after she had declared to me that she was a Roman Catholique. But though
I do verily think she fears God, and is truly and sincerely righteous,
yet I do see she is not so strictly so a Catholique as not to go to
church with me, which pleases me mightily. Here Mills made a lazy
sermon, upon Moses’s meeknesse, and so home, and my wife and I alone to
dinner, and then she to read a little book concerning speech in general,
a translation late out of French; a most excellent piece as ever I read,
proving a soul in man, and all the ways and secrets by which nature
teaches speech in man, which do please me most infinitely to read. By
and by my wife to church, and I to my Office to complete my Journall for
the last three days, and so home to my chamber to settle some papers,
and so to spend the evening with my wife and W. Hewer talking over the
business of the Office, and particularly my own Office, how I will make
it, and it will become, in a little time, an Office of ease, and not
slavery, as it hath for so many years been. So to supper, and to bed.
7th. Up by candlelight, the first time I have done so this winter, but
I had lost my labour so often to visit Sir W. Coventry, and not visited
him so long, that I was resolved to get time enough, and so up, and with
W. Hewer, it being the first frosty day we have had this winter, did
walk it very well to W. Coventry’s, and there alone with him an hour
talking of the Navy, which he pities, but says he hath no more mind to
be found meddling with the Navy, lest it should do it hurt, as well as
him, to be found to meddle with it. So to talk of general things: and
telling him that, with all these doings, he, I thanked God, stood yet;
he told me, Yes, but that he thought his continuing in, did arise from
his enemies my Lord of Buckingham and Arlington’s seeing that he cared
so little if he was out; and he do protest to me that he is as weary of
the Treasury, as ever he was of the Navy. He tells me that he do believe
that their heat is over almost, as to the Navy, there being now none
left of the old stock but my Lord Brouncker, J. Minnes, who is ready
to leave the world, and myself. But he tells me that he do foresee very
great wants and great disorders by reason thereof; insomuch, as he is
represented to the King by his enemies as a melancholy man, and one that
is still prophesying ill events, so as the King called him Visionaire,
which being told him, he said he answered the party, that, whatever he
foresaw, he was not afeard as to himself of any thing, nor particularly
of my Lord Arlington, so much as the Duke of Buckingham hath been, nor
of the Duke of Buckingham, so much as my Lord Arlington at this time
is. But he tells me that he hath been always looked upon as a melancholy
man; whereas, others that would please the King do make him believe that
all is safe: and so he hath heard my Lord Chancellor openly say to the
King, that he was now a glorious prince, and in a glorious condition,
because of some one accident that hath happened, or some one rub that
hath been removed; “when,” says W. Coventry, “they reckoned their one
good meal, without considering that there was nothing left in the cup
board for to-morrow.” After this and other discourse of this kind, I
away, and walked to my Lord Sandwich’s, and walked with him to White
Hall, and took a quarter of an hour’s walk in the garden with him, which
I had not done for so much time with him since his coming into England;
and talking of his own condition, and particularly of the world’s
talk of his going to Tangier. I find, if his conditions can be made
profitable and safe as to money, he would go, but not else; but,
however, will seem not averse to it, because of facilitating his other
accounts now depending, which he finds hard to get through, but yet hath
some hopes, the King, he says, speaking very kindly to him. Thence to
a Committee of Tangier, and so with W. Hewer to Westminster to Sir R.
Longs office, and so to the Temple, but did nothing, the Auditor not
being within, and so home to dinner, and after dinner out again with my
wife to the Temple, and up and down to do a little business, and back
again, and so to my office, and did a little business, and so home, and
W. Hewer with me, to read and talk, and so to supper, and then to bed
in mighty good humour. This afternoon, passing through Queen’s Street,
I saw pass by our coach on foot Deb., which, God forgive me, did put me
into some new thoughts of her, and for her, but durst not shew them, and
I think my wife did not see her, but I did get my thoughts free of her
soon as I could.
8th. Up, and Sir H. Cholmly betimes with me, about some accounts and
moneys due to him: and he gone, I to the Office, where sat all the
morning; and here, among other things, breaks out the storm W. Hewer and
I have long expected from the Surveyor,--[Colonel Middleton.]--about
W. Hewer’s conspiring to get a contract, to the burdening of the stores
with kerseys and cottons, of which he hath often complained, and lately
more than ever; and now he did it by a most scandalous letter to the
Board, reflecting on my Office: and, by discourse, it fell to such high
words between him and me, as can hardly ever be forgot; I declaring I
would believe W. Hewer as soon as him, and laying the fault, if there
be any, upon himself; he, on the other hand, vilifying of my word and
W. Hewer’s, calling him knave, and that if he were his clerk, he should
lose his ears. At last, I closed the business for this morning with
making the thing ridiculous, as it is, and he swearing that the King
should have right in it, or he would lose his place. The Office was
cleared of all but ourselves and W. Hewer; but, however, the world did
by the beginning see what it meant, and it will, I believe, come to high
terms between us, which I am sorry for, to have any blemish laid upon
me or mine, at this time, though never so unduly, for fear of giving
occasion to my real discredit: and therefore I was not only all the rest
of the morning vexed, but so went home to dinner, where my wife tells
me of my Lord Orrery’s new play “Tryphon,” at the Duke of York’s house,
which, however, I would see, and therefore put a bit of meat in our
mouths, and went thither; where, with much ado, at half-past one, we got
into a blind hole in the 18d. place, above stairs, where we could not
hear well, but the house infinite full, but the prologue most silly, and
the play, though admirable, yet no pleasure almost in it, because just
the very same design, and words, and sense, and plot, as every one of
his plays have, any one of which alone would be held admirable, whereas
so many of the same design and fancy do but dull one another; and this,
I perceive, is the sense of every body else, as well as myself, who
therefore showed but little pleasure in it. So home, mighty hot, and my
mind mightily out of order, so as I could not eat any supper, or sleep
almost all night, though I spent till twelve at night with W. Hewer to
consider of our business: and we find it not only most free from any
blame of our side, but so horrid scandalous on the other, to make so
groundless a complaint, and one so shameful to him, that it could not
but let me see that there is no need of my being troubled; but such is
the weakness of my nature, that I could not help it, which vexes me,
showing me how unable I am to live with difficulties.
9th. Up, and to the Office, but did little there, my mind being still
uneasy, though more and more satisfied that there is no occasion for it;
but abroad with my wife to the Temple, where I met with Auditor Wood’s
clerk, and did some business with him, and so to see Mr. Spong, and
found him out by Southampton Market, and there carried my wife, and up
to his chamber, a bye place, but with a good prospect of the fields;
and there I had most infinite pleasure, not only with his ingenuity
in general, but in particular with his shewing me the use of the
Parallelogram, by which he drew in a quarter of an hour before me,
in little, from a great, a most neat map of England--that is, all the
outlines, which gives me infinite pleasure, and foresight of pleasure,
I shall have with it; and therefore desire to have that which I have
bespoke, made. Many other pretty things he showed us, and did give me a
glass bubble, to try the strength of liquors with.
[This seems to refer to the first form of the Hon. Robert Boyle’s
hydrometer, which he described in a paper in the “Philosophical
Transactions” for June, 1675, under the title of a “New Essay
instrument.” In this paper the author refers to a glass instrument
exhibited many years before by himself, “consisting of a bubble
furnished with a long and slender stem, which was to be put into
several liquors to compare and estimate their specific gravity.”
Boyle describes this glass bubble in a paper in “Philosophical
Transactions,” vol. iv., No. 50, p. 1001, 1669, entitled, “The
Weights of Water in Water with ordinary Balances and Weights.”]
This done, and having spent 6d. in ale in the coach, at the door of the
Bull Inn, with the innocent master of the house, a Yorkshireman, for his
letting us go through his house, we away to Hercules Pillars, and there
eat a bit of meat: and so, with all speed, back to the Duke of York’s
house, where mighty full again; but we come time enough to have a good
place in the pit, and did hear this new play again, where, though I
better understood it than before, yet my sense of it and pleasure was
just the same as yesterday, and no more, nor any body else’s about us.
So took our coach and home, having now little pleasure to look about
me to see the fine faces, for fear of displeasing my wife, whom I take
great comfort now, more than ever, in pleasing; and it is a real joy to
me. So home, and to my Office, where spent an hour or two; and so home
to my wife, to supper and talk, and so to bed.
10th. Up, and to the Office, where busy all the morning: Middleton not
there, so no words or looks of him. At noon, home to dinner; and so to
the Office, and there all the afternoon busy; and at night W. Hewer home
with me; and we think we have got matter enough to make Middleton appear
a coxcomb. But it troubled me to have Sir W. Warren meet me at night,
going out of the Office home, and tell me that Middleton do intend to
complain to the Duke of York: but, upon consideration of the business, I
did go to bed, satisfied that it was best for me that he should; and so
my trouble was over, and to bed, and slept well.
11th. Up, and with W. Hewer by water to Somerset House; and there I to
my Lord Brouncker, before he went forth to the Duke of York, and there
told him my confidence that I should make Middleton appear a fool, and
that it was, I thought, best for me to complain of the wrong he hath
done; but brought it about, that my Lord desired me I would forbear, and
promised that he would prevent Middleton till I had given in my answer
to the Board, which I desired: and so away to White Hall, and there
did our usual attendance and no word spoke before the Duke of York by
Middleton at all; at which I was glad to my heart, because by this means
I have time to draw up my answer to my mind. So with W. Hewer by coach
to Smithfield, but met not Mr. Dickering, he being not come, and so he
[Will] and I to a cook’s shop, in Aldersgate Street; and dined well
for 19 1/2 d., upon roast beef, pleasing ourselves with the infinite
strength we have to prove Middleton a coxcomb; and so, having dined,
we back to Smithfield, and there met Dickering, and up and down all the
afternoon about horses, and did see the knaveries and tricks of jockeys.
Here I met W. Joyce, who troubled me with his impertinencies a great
while, and the like Mr. Knepp, who, it seems, is a kind of a jockey, and
would fain have been doing something for me, but I avoided him, and the
more for fear of being troubled thereby with his wife, whom I desire but
dare not see, for my vow to my wife. At last went away and did nothing,
only concluded upon giving L50 for a fine pair of black horses we saw
this day se’nnight; and so set Mr. Dickering down near his house, whom I
am much beholden to, for his care herein, and he hath admirable skill,
I perceive, in this business, and so home, and spent the evening talking
and merry, my mind at good ease, and so to bed.
12th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home
to dinner, and so the like mighty busy, late, all the afternoon, that
I might be ready to go to the drawing up of my answer to Middleton
to-morrow, and therefore home to supper and to bed. I hear this day that
there is fallen down a new house, not quite finished, in Lumbard Street,
and that there have been several so, they making use of bad mortar and
bricks; but no hurt yet, as God hath ordered it. This day was brought
home my pair of black coach-horses, the first I ever was master of. They
cost me L50, and are a fine pair.
13th (Lord’s day). Up, and with W. Hewer to the Office, where all the
morning, and then home to a little dinner, and presently to it again all
alone till twelve at night, drawing up my answer to Middleton, which
I think I shall do to very good purpose--at least, I satisfy myself
therein; and so to bed, weary with walking in my Office dictating to him
[Hewer]. In the night my wife very ill, vomited, but was well again by
and by.
14th. Up, and by water to White Hall to a Committee of Tangier, where,
among other things, a silly account of a falling out between Norwood,
at Tangier, and Mr. Bland, the mayor, who is fled to Cales [Cadiz]. His
complaint is ill-worded, and the other’s defence the most ridiculous
that ever I saw; and so everybody else that was there, thought it;
but never did I see so great an instance of the use of grammar, and
knowledge how to tell a man’s tale as this day, Bland having spoiled his
business by ill-telling it, who had work to have made himself notorious
by his mastering Norwood, his enemy, if he had known how to have used
it. Thence calling Smith, the Auditor’s clerk at the Temple, I by the
Exchange home, and there looked over my Tangier accounts with him, and
so to dinner, and then set him down again by a hackney, my coachman
being this day about breaking of my horses to the coach, they having
never yet drawn. Left my wife at Unthank’s, and I to the Treasury, where
we waited on the Lords Commissioners about Sir D. Gawden’s matters, and
so took her up again at night, and home to the office, and so home with
W. Hewer, and to talk about our quarrel with Middleton, and so to supper
and to bed. This day I hear, and am glad, that the King hath prorogued
the Parliament to October next; and, among other reasons, it will give
me time to go to France, I hope.
15th. Up, and to the Office, where sat all the morning, and the new
Treasurers there; and, for my life, I cannot keep Sir J. Minnes and
others of the Board from shewing our weakness, to the dishonour of the
Board, though I am not concerned but it do vex me to the heart to
have it before these people, that would be glad to find out all our
weaknesses. At noon Mrs. Mary Batelier with us, and so, after dinner,
I with W. Hewer all the afternoon till night beginning to draw up our
answer to Middleton, and it proves troublesome, because I have so much
in my head at a time to say, but I must go through with it. So at night
to supper and to bed.
16th. I did the like all day long, only a little at dinner, and so to
work again, and were at it till 2 in the morning, and so W. Hewer, who
was with me all day, home to his lodging, and I to bed, after we had
finished it.
17th. Up, and set my man Gibson and Mr. Fists to work to write it over
fair, while I all the morning at the office sitting. At noon home to
them, and all the afternoon looking over them and examining with W.
Hewer, and so about to at night I to bed, leaving them to finish the
writing it fair, which they did by sitting up most of the night, and so
home to bed.
18th. All the morning at the office about Sir W. Warren’s accounts, my
mind full of my business, having before we met gone to Lord Brouncker,
and got him to read over my paper, who owns most absolute content in it,
and the advantage I have in it, and the folly of the Surveyor. At noon
home to dinner; and then again to the office a while, and so by hackney
coach to Brooke House, and there spoke with Colonel Thomson, I by order
carrying them [the Commissioners of Accounts] our Contract-books, from
the beginning to the end of the late war. I found him finding of errors
in a ship’s book, where he shewed me many, which must end in the ruin, I
doubt, of the Controller, who found them not out in the pay of the ship,
or the whole Office. But I took little notice of them to concern myself
in them, but so leaving my books I home to the Office, where the
office met, and after some other business done, fell to mine, which the
Surveyor begun to be a little brisk at the beginning; but when I come to
the point to touch him, which I had all the advantages in the world
to do, he become as calm as a lamb, and owned, as the whole Board did,
their satisfaction, and cried excuse: and so all made friends; and their
acknowledgment put into writing, and delivered into Sir J. Minnes’s
hand, to be kept there for the use of the Board, or me, when I shall
call for it; they desiring it might be so, that I might not make use of
it to the prejudice of the Surveyor, whom I had an advantage over, by
his extraordinary folly in this matter. But, besides this, I have no
small advantage got by this business, as I have put several things into
my letter which I should otherwise have wanted an opportunity of saying,
which pleases me mightily. So Middleton desiring to be friends, I
forgave him; and all mighty quiet, and fell to talk of other stories,
and there staid, all of us, till nine or ten at night, more than ever we
did in our lives before, together. And so home, where I have a new fight
to fight with my wife, who is under new trouble by some news she hath
heard of Deb.’s being mighty fine, and gives out that she has a friend
that gives her money, and this my wife believes to be me, and, poor
wretch! I cannot blame her, and therefore she run into mighty extremes;
but I did pacify all, and were mighty good friends, and to bed, and I
hope it will be our last struggle from this business, for I am resolved
never to give any new occasion, and great peace I find in my mind by it.
So to supper, she and I to bed.
19th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon, eating
very little dinner, my wife and I by hackney to the King’s playhouse,
and there, the pit being full, satin a box above, and saw “Catiline’s
Conspiracy,” yesterday being the first day: a play of much good sense
and words to read, but that do appear the worst upon the stage, I mean,
the least diverting, that ever I saw any, though most fine in clothes;
and a fine scene of the Senate, and of a fight, that ever I saw in
my life. But the play is only to be read, and therefore home, with no
pleasure at all, but only in sitting next to Betty Hall, that did belong
to this house, and was Sir Philip Howard’s mistress; a mighty pretty
wench, though my wife will not think so; and I dare neither commend, nor
be seen to look upon her, or any other now, for fear of offending her.
So, our own coach coming for us, home, and to end letters, and so home,
my wife to read to me out of “The Siege of Rhodes,” and so to supper,
and to bed.
20th (Lord’s day). Up, and with my wife to church, and then home, and
there found W. Joyce come to dine with me, as troublesome a talking
coxcombe as ever he was, and yet once in a year I like him well enough.
In the afternoon my wife and W. Hewer and I to White Hall, where they
set me down and staid till I had been with the Duke of York, with the
rest of us of the Office, and did a little business, and then the Duke
of York in good humour did fall to tell us many fine stories of the wars
in Flanders, and how the Spaniards are the [best] disciplined foot in
the world; will refuse no extraordinary service if commanded, but scorn
to be paid for it, as in other countries, though at the same time they
will beg in the streets: not a soldier will carry you a cloak-bag for
money for the world, though he will beg a penny, and will do the thing,
if commanded by his Commander. That, in the citadel of Antwerp, a
soldier hath not a liberty of begging till he hath served three years.
They will cry out against their King and Commanders and Generals, none
like them in the world, and yet will not hear a stranger say a word
of them but he will cut his throat. That, upon a time, some of the
Commanders of their army exclaiming against their Generals, and
particularly the Marquis de Caranen, the Confessor of the Marquis coming
by and hearing them, he stops and gravely tells them that the three
great trades of the world are, the lawyers, who govern the world; the
churchmen, who enjoy the world; and a sort of fools whom they call
souldiers, who make it their work to defend the world. He told us, too,
that Turenne being now become a Catholique, he is likely to get over the
head of Colbert, their interests being contrary; the latter to promote
trade
[This reminds us of the famous reply, ‘Laissez nous affaire’, made
to Colbert by the French merchants, whose interests he thought to
promote by laws and regulations.--B.]
and the sea, which, says the Duke of York, is that that we have most
cause to fear; and Turenne to employ the King and his forces by land, to
encrease his conquests. Thence to the coach to my wife, and so home,
and there with W. Hewer to my office and to do some business, and so set
down my Journall for four or five days, and then home to supper and read
a little, and to bed. W. Hewer tells me to-day that he hears that the
King of France hath declared in print, that he do intend this next
summer to forbid his Commanders to strike--[Strike topsails]--to us, but
that both we and the Dutch shall strike to him; and that he hath made
his captains swear it already, that they will observe it: which is a
great thing if he do it, as I know nothing to hinder him.
21st. My own coach carrying me and my boy Tom, who goes with me in the
room of W. Hewer, who could not, and I dare not go alone, to the Temple,
and there set me down, the first time my fine horses ever carried me,
and I am mighty proud of them, and there took a hackney and to White
Hall, where a Committee of Tangier, but little to do, and so away home,
calling at the Exchange and buying several little things, and so home,
and there dined with my wife and people and then she, and W. Hewer, and
I by appointment out with our coach, but the old horses, not daring yet
to use the others too much, but only to enter them, and to the Temple,
there to call Talbot Pepys, and took him up, and first went into
Holborne, and there saw the woman that is to be seen with a beard. She
is a little plain woman, a Dane: her name, Ursula Dyan; about forty
years old; her voice like a little girl’s; with a beard as much as any
man I ever saw, black almost, and grizly; they offered to shew my wife
further satisfaction if she desired it, refusing it to men that desired
it there, but there is no doubt but by her voice she is a woman; it
begun to grow at about seven years old, and was shaved not above seven
months ago, and is now so big as any man’s almost that ever I saw; I
say, bushy and thick. It was a strange sight to me, I confess, and what
pleased me mightily. Thence to the Duke’s playhouse, and saw “Macbeth.”
The King and Court there; and we sat just under them and my Lady
Castlemayne, and close to the woman that comes into the pit, a kind of a
loose gossip, that pretends to be like her, and is so, something. And my
wife, by my troth, appeared, I think, as pretty as any of them; I never
thought so much before; and so did Talbot and W. Hewer, as they said, I
heard, to one another. The King and Duke of York minded me, and smiled
upon me, at the handsome woman near me but it vexed me to see Moll
Davis, in the box over the King’s and my Lady Castlemayne’s head, look
down upon the King, and he up to her; and so did my Lady Castlemayne
once, to see who it was; but when she saw her, she looked like fire;
which troubled me. The play done, took leave of Talbot, who goes into
the country this Christmas, and so we home, and there I to work at the
office late, and so home to supper and to bed.
22nd. At the office all the morning, and at noon to the ‘Change,
thinking to meet with Langford about my father’s house in Fleet Streete,
but I come too late, and so home to dinner, and all the afternoon at
the office busy, and at night home to supper and talk, and with mighty
content with my wife, and so to bed.
23rd. Met at the Office all the morning, and at noon to the ‘Change,
and there met with Langford and Mr. Franke, the landlord of my father’s
house in Fleet Streete, and are come to an arbitration what my father
shall give him to be freed of his lease and building the house again.
Walked up and down the ‘Change, and among others discoursed with
Sir John Bankes, who thinks this prorogation will please all but
the Parliament itself, which will, if ever they meet, be vexed at
Buckingham, who yet governs all. He says the Nonconformists are glad of
it, and, he believes, will get the upperhand in a little time, for the
King must trust to them or nobody; and he thinks the King will be forced
to it. He says that Sir D. Gawden is mightily troubled at Pen’s being
put upon him, by the Duke of York, and that he believes he will get
clear of it, which, though it will trouble me to have Pen still at the
Office, yet I shall think D. Gawden do well in it, and what I would
advise him to, because I love him. So home to dinner, and then with my
wife alone abroad, with our new horses, the beautifullest almost that
ever I saw, and the first time they ever carried her, and me but once;
but we are mighty proud of them. To her tailor’s, and so to the ‘Change,
and laid out three or four pounds in lace, for her and me; and so home,
and there I up to my Lord Brouncker, at his lodgings, and sat with him
an hour, on purpose to talk over the wretched state of this Office at
present, according to the present hands it is made up of; wherein he do
fully concur with me, and that it is our part not only to prepare for
defending it and ourselves, against the consequences of it, but to take
the best ways we can, to make it known to the Duke of York; for, till
Sir J. Minnes be removed, and a sufficient man brought into W. Pen’s
place, when he is gone, it is impossible for this Office ever to support
itself. So home, and to supper and to bed.
24th. A cold day. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning alone at
the Office, nobody meeting, being the eve of Christmas. At noon home
to dinner, and then to the Office busy, all the afternoon, and at night
home to supper, and it being now very cold, and in hopes of a frost, I
begin this night to put on a waistcoat, it being the first winter in my
whole memory that ever I staid till this day before I did so. So to bed
in mighty good humour with my wife, but sad, in one thing, and that is
for my poor eyes.
25th (Christmas-day). Up, and continued on my waistcoat, the first day
this winter, and I to church, where Alderman Backewell, coming in late,
I beckoned to his lady to come up to us, who did, with another lady;
and after sermon, I led her down through the church to her husband and
coach, a noble, fine woman, and a good one, and one my wife shall be
acquainted with. So home, and to dinner alone with my wife, who, poor
wretch! sat undressed all day, till ten at night, altering and lacing of
a noble petticoat: while I by her, making the boy read to me the Life of
Julius Caesar, and Des Cartes’ book of Musick
[“Musicae Compendium.” By Rene Des Cartes, Amsterdam, 1617;
rendered into English, London, 1653, 4to. The translator, whose
name did not appear on the title, was William, Viscount Brouncker,
Pepys’s colleague, who proved his knowledge of music by the
performance.]
--the latter of which I understand not, nor think he did well that writ
it, though a most learned man. Then, after supper, I made the boy play
upon his lute, which I have not done twice before since he come to me;
and so, my mind in mighty content, we to bed.
26th. Lay long with pleasure, prating with my wife, and then up, and I a
little to the Office, and my head busy setting some papers and accounts
to rights, which being long neglected because of my eyes will take me
up much time and care to do, but it must be done. So home at noon to
dinner, and then abroad with my wife to a play, at the Duke of York’s
house, the house full of ordinary citizens. The play was “Women
Pleased,” which we had never seen before; and, though but indifferent,
yet there is a good design for a good play. So home, and there to talk,
and my wife to read to me, and so to bed.
27th (Lord’s day). Walked to White Hall and there saw the King at
chapel; but staid not to hear anything, but went to walk in the Park,
with W. Hewer, who was with me; and there, among others, met with Sir G.
Downing, and walked with him an hour, talking of business, and how the
late war was managed, there being nobody to take care of it, and telling
how, when he was in Holland, what he offered the King to do, if he might
have power, and they would give him power, and then, upon the least
word, perhaps of a woman, to the King, he was contradicted again, and
particularly to the loss of all that we lost in Guinny. He told me that
he had so good spies, that he hath had the keys taken out of De Witt’s
[The celebrated John de Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland, who,
a few years afterwards, was massacred, with his brother Cornelius,
by the Dutch mob, enraged at their opposition to the elevation of
William of Orange to the Stadtholdership, when the States were
overrun by the French army, and the Dutch fleets beaten at sea by
the English. The murder of the De Witts forms one of the main
incidents of Alexandre Dumas’s “Black Tulip.”]
pocket when he was a-bed, and his closet opened, and papers brought to
him, and left in his hands for an hour, and carried back and laid in the
place again, and keys put into his pocket again. He says that he hath
always had their most private debates, that have been but between two or
three of the chief of them, brought to him in an hour after, and an hour
after that, hath sent word thereof to the King, but nobody here regarded
them. But he tells me the sad news, that he is out of all expectations
that ever the debts of the Navy will be paid, if the Parliament do not
enable the King to do it by money; all they can hope for to do out
of the King’s revenue being but to keep our wheels a-going on present
services, and, if they can, to cut off the growing interest: which is a
sad story, and grieves me to the heart. So home, my coach coming for me,
and there find Balty and Mr. How, who dined with me; and there my wife
and I fell out a little about the foulness of the linen of the table,
but were friends presently, but she cried, poor heart! which I was
troubled for, though I did not give her one hard word. Dinner done, she
to church, and W. How and I all the afternoon talking together about my
Lord Sandwich’s suffering his business of the prizes to be managed by
Sir R. Cuttance, who is so deep in the business, more than my Lord knows
of, and such a loggerhead, and under such prejudice, that he will, we
doubt, do my Lord much wrong. In the evening, he gone, my wife to read
to me and talk, and spent the evening with much pleasure, and so to
supper and to bed.
28th. Up, called up by drums and trumpets; these things and boxes [??]
having cost me much money this Christmas already, and will do more.
My wife down by water to see her mother, and I with W. Hewer all
day together in my closet making some advance in the settling of my
accounts, which have been so long unevened that it troubles me how to
set them right, having not the use of my eyes to help me. My wife
at night home, and tells me how much her mother prays for me and is
troubled for my eyes; and I am glad to have friendship with them, and
believe they are truly glad to see their daughter come to live so well
as she do. So spent the night in talking, and so to supper and to bed.
29th. Up, and at the Office all the morning, and at noon to dinner, and
there, by a pleasant mistake, find my uncle and aunt Wight, and three
more of their company, come to dine with me to-day, thinking that they
had been invited, which they were not; but yet we did give them a pretty
good dinner, and mighty merry at the mistake. They sat most of the
afternoon with us, and then parted, and my wife and I out, thinking to
have gone to a play, but it was too far begun, and so to the ‘Change,
and there she and I bought several things, and so home, with much
pleasure talking, and then to reading, and so to supper and to bed.
30th. Up, and vexed a little to be forced to pay 40s. for a glass of my
coach, which was broke the other day, nobody knows how, within the door,
while it was down; but I do doubt that I did break it myself with my
knees. After dinner, my wife and I to the Duke’s playhouse, and there
did see King Harry the Eighth; and was mightily pleased, better than I
ever expected, with the history and shows of it. We happened to sit by
Mr. Andrews, our neighbour, and his wife, who talked so fondly to his
little boy. Thence my wife and I to the ‘Change; but, in going, our
neere horse did fling himself, kicking of the coachbox over the pole;
and a great deal of trouble it was to get him right again, and we forced
to ‘light, and in great fear of spoiling the horse, but there was no
hurt. So to the ‘Change, and then home, and there spent the evening
talking, and so to supper and to bed.
31st. Up, and at the Office all the morning. At noon Capt. Ferrers and
Mr. Sheres
[Henry Sheres accompanied Lord Sandwich in his embassy to Spain, and
returned to England in September, 1667, bearing letters from the
ambassador (see September 8th, 22nd, 27th). He was an officer in
the Ordnance, and served under Lord Dartmouth at the demolition of
the Mole at Tangier in 1683. He was knighted about 1684. He
translated Polybius (2 vols. 8vo., 1693), and also some of the
“Dialogues” of Lucian, included in the translation published in 1711
(3 vols. 8vo.). Pepys bequeathed him a ring, and he died about
1713.]
come to me to dinner, who did, and pretty pleased with their talk of
Spayne; but my wife did not come down, I suppose because she would
not, Captain Ferrers being there, to oblige me by it. They gone, after
dinner, I to the office, and then in the evening home, being the last
day of the year, to endeavour to pay all bills and servants’ wages, &c.,
which I did almost to L5 that I know that I owe in the world, but to the
publique; and so with great pleasure to supper and to bed, and, blessed
be God! the year ends, after some late very great sorrow with my wife
by my folly, yet ends, I say, with great mutual peace and content, and
likely to last so by my care, who am resolved to enjoy the sweet of
it, which I now possess, by never giving her like cause of trouble. My
greatest trouble is now from the backwardness of my accounts, which I
have not seen the bottom of now near these two years, so that I know not
in what condition I am in the world, but by the grace of God, as far as
my eyes will give me leave, I will do it.