April 1st. Up, and with Colonel Middleton, at the desire of Rear-Admiral
Kempthorne, the President, for our assisting them, to the Court-martiall
on board a yacht in the River here, to try the business of the Purser’s
complaints, Baker against Trevanion, his Commander, of “The Dartmouth.”
But, Lord! to see what wretched doings there were among all the
Commanders to ruin the Purser, and defend the Captain in all his
rogueries, be it to the prejudice of the King or Purser, no good man
could bear! I confess I was pretty high, which did not at least the
young gentlemen Commander like; and Middleton did the like. But could
not bring it to any issue this day, sitting till two o’clock; and
therefore we being sent for, went to Sir W. Pen’s by invitation to dine;
where my wife was, and my Lord Brouncker and his mistress, and Sir J.
Minnes and his niece; and here a bad dinner, and little mirth, I being
little pleased with my host. However, I made myself sociable; and so,
after dinner, my wife and I, with my Lord Brouncker and his mistress,
they set us down at my cozen Turner’s, and there we staid awhile and
talked; and particularly here we met with Dr. Ball, the Parson of the
Temple, who did tell me a great many pretty stories about the manner
of the Parsons being paid for their preaching at Paul’s heretofore,
and now, and the ground of the Lecture, and heretofore the names of
the founders thereof, which were many, at some 5s., some 6s. per annum
towards it: and had their names read in the pulpit every sermon among
those holy persons that the Church do order a collect for, giving God
thanks for. By and by comes by my desire Commissioner Middleton’s coach
and horses for us, and we went with it towards the Park, thinking to
have met The. Turner and Betty, but did not; so turned back again to
their lodging, and there found them and Mr. Batelier, and there, after
a little talk, we took leave, and carry Batelier home with us. So to
supper, and so to bed.
2nd. Up, and by water to White Hall, and there with the Office attended
the Duke of York, and staid in White Hall till about noon, and so
with W. Hewer to the Cocke, and there he and I dined alone with great
content, he reading to me, for my memory’s sake, my late collections of
the history of the Navy, that I might represent the same by and by to
the Duke of York; and so, after dinner, he and I to White Hall, and
there to the Duke of York’s lodgings, whither he, by and by, by his
appointment come: and alone with him an hour in his closet, telling him
mine and W. Coventry’s advice touching the present posture of the Navy,
as the Duke of Buckingham and the rest do now labour to make changes
therein; and that it were best for him to suffer the King to be
satisfied with the bringing in of a man or two which they desire. I did
also give the Duke of York a short account of the history of the Navy,
as to our Office, wherewith he was very well satisfied: but I do find
that he is pretty stiff against their bringing in of men against his
mind, as the Treasures were, and particularly against Child’s’ coming
in, because he is a merchant. After much discourse with him, we parted;
and [he to] the Council, while I staid waiting for his telling me when
I should be ready to give him a written account of the administration of
the Navy. This caused me to wait the whole afternoon, till night. In
the mean time, stepping to the Duchess of York’s side to speak with Lady
Peterborough; I did see the young Duchess,
[The Princess Mary, afterwards Queen of England.]
a little child in hanging sleeves; dance most finely, so as almost
to ravish me, her ears were so good: taught by a Frenchman that
did heretofore teach the King, and all the King’s children, and the
Queen-Mother herself, who do still dance well. Thence to the council
door and Mr. Chevins took me into the back stairs, and they with his
friend, Mr. Fowkes, for whom he is very solicitous in some things
depending in this Office, he did make me, with some others that he
took in (among others, Alderman Back well), eat a pickled herring, the
largest I ever saw, and drink variety of wines till I was almost merry;
but I did keep in good tune; and so, after the Council was up, I home;
and there find my wife not yet come home from Deptford, he she hath been
all this day to see her mother, but she come and by, and so to talk,
and supper, and to bed. This night I did bring home from the King’s
potticary’s, in White Hall by Mr. Cooling’s direction, a water that he
says did him mighty good for his eyes. I pray God it may do me good;
but, by his description, his disease was the same as mine, and this do
encourage me to use it.
3rd. Up, and to the Council of War again, with Middleton: but the
proceedings of the Commanders so devilishly bad, and so professedly
partial to the Captain, that I could endure it no longer, but took
occasion to pretend business at the Office, and away, and Colonel
Middleton with me, who was of the same mind, and resolved to declare our
minds freely to the Duke of York about it. So to the office, where we
sat all the morning. Then home to dinner, and so back to the office,
where busy late till night, and so home to supper and to bed.
4th (Lord’s day). Up, and to church, where Alderman Backewell’s wife,
by my invitation with my head, come up with her mother, and sat with
us, and after sermon I did walk with them home, and there left them, and
home to dinner, and after dinner with Sir J. Minnes and T. Middleton to
White Hall, by appointment; and at my Lord Arlington’s the Office did
attend the King and Cabal, to discourse the further quantity of victuals
fit to be declared for, which was 2,000 men for six months; and so
without more ado or stay, there, hearing no news but that Sir Thomas
Allen is to be expected every hour at home with his fleete, or news of
his being gone back to Algier, and so home, where got my wife to read
to me; and so after supper to bed. The Queen-Mother hath been of late
mighty ill, and some fears of her death.
5th. Up, and by coach, it being very cold, to White Hall, expecting a
meeting of Tangier, but it did not. But, however, did wait there all
the morning, and, among other things, I spent a little time with Creed
walking in the garden, and talking about our Office, and Child’s coming
in to be a Commissioner; and, being his friend, I did think he might
do me a kindness to learn of him what the Duke of Buckingham and the
faction do design touching me, and to instil good words concerning me,
which he says, and I believe he will: and it is but necessary; for I
have not a mind indeed at this time to be put out of my Office, if I can
make any shift that is honourable to keep it; but I will not do it by
deserting the Duke of York. At noon by appointment comes Mr. Sheres,
and he and I to Unthanke’s, where my wife stays for us in our coach, and
Betty Turner with her; and we to the Mulberry Garden, where Sheres is to
treat us with a Spanish Olio,
[An olio is a mixed dish of meat and vegetables, and, secondarily,
mixture or medley.]
by a cook of his acquaintance that is there, that was with my Lord in
Spain: and without any other company, he did do it, and mighty nobly;
and the Olio was indeed a very noble dish, such as I never saw better,
or any more of. This, and the discourse he did give us of Spain, and
description of the Escuriall, was a fine treat. So we left other good
things, that would keep till night, for a collation; and, with much
content, took coach again, and went five or six miles towards Branford,
the Prince of Tuscany, who comes into England only to spend money and
see our country, comes into the town to-day, and is much expected; and
we met him, but the coach passing by apace, we could not see much of him
but he seems a very jolly and good comely man. By the way, we overtook
Captain Ferrers upon his fine Spanish horse, and he is a fine horse
indeed; but not so good, I think, as I have seen some. He did ride by
us most of the way, and with us to the Park, and there left us, where
we passed the evening, and meeting The. Turner, Talbot, W. Batelier,
and his sister, in a coach, we anon took them with us to the Mulberry
Garden; and there, after a walk, to supper upon what was left at noon;
and very good; only Mr. Sheres being taken suddenly ill for a while, did
spoil our mirth; but by and by was well again, and we mighty merry: and
so broke up, and left him at Charing Cross, and so calling only at my
cozen Turner’s, away home, mightily pleased with the day’s work, and
this day come another new mayd, for a middle mayd, but her name I know
not yet; and, for a cookmaid, we have, ever since Bridget went, used a
blackmoore of Mr. Batelier’s, Doll, who dresses our meat mighty well,
and we mightily pleased with her. So by and by to bed.
6th. Up, and to the Office, and thence to the Excise Office about some
business, and so back to the office and sat till late, end thence to Mr.
Batelier’s to dinner, where my cozen Turner and both her daughters,
and Talbot Pepys and my wife, and a mighty fine dinner. They at dinner
before I come; and, when I had dined, I away home, and thence to White
Hall, where the Board waited on the Duke of York to discourse about
the disposing of Sir Thomas Allen’s fleete, which is newly come home
to Portsmouth; and here Middleton and I did in plain terms acquaint
the Duke of York what we thought and had observed in the late
Court-martiall, which the Duke did give ear to; and though he thinks not
fit to revoke what is already done in this case by a Court-martiall,
yet it shall bring forth some good laws in the behaviour of Captains to
their under Officers for the time to come. Thence home, and there, after
a while at the Office, I home, and there come home my wife, who hath
been with Batelier’s late, and been dancing with the company, at which
I seemed a little troubled, not being sent for thither myself, but I was
not much so, but went to bed well enough pleased.
7th. Up, and by coach to my cozen Turner’s, and invited them to dine
at the Cocke to-day, with my wife and me; and so to the Lords of the
Treasury, where all the morning, and settled matters to their liking
about the assignments on the Customes, between the Navy Office and
Victualler, and to that end spent most of the morning there with D.
Gawden, and thence took him to the Cocke, and there left him and my
clerk Gibson together evening their reckonings, while I to the New
Exchange to talk with Betty, my little sempstress; and so to Mrs.
Turner’s, to call them to dinner, but my wife not come, I back again,
and was overtaken by a porter, with a message from my wife that she was
ill, and could not come to us: so I back again to Mrs. Turner’s, and
find them gone; and so back again to the Cocke, and there find Mr.
Turner, Betty, and Talbot Pepys, and they dined with myself Sir D.
Gawden and Gibson, and mighty merry, this house being famous for good
meat, and particularly pease-porridge and after dinner broke up, and
they away; and I to the Council-Chamber, and there heard the great
complaint of the City, tried against the gentlemen of the Temple, for
the late riot, as they would have it, when my Lord Mayor was there.
But, upon hearing the whole business, the City was certainly to blame to
charge them in this manner as with a riot: but the King and Council did
forbear to determine any thing it, till the other business of the title
and privilege be decided which is now under dispute at law between them,
whether Temple be within the liberty of the City or no. But I, sorry to
see the City so ill advised as to complain in a thing where their proofs
were so weak. Thence to my cousin Turner’s, and thence with her and
her daughters, and her sister Turner, I carrying Betty in my lap, to
Talbot’s chamber at the Temple, where, by agreement, the poor rogue had
a pretty dish of anchovies and sweetmeats for them; and hither come Mr.
Eden, who was in his mistress’s disfavour ever since the other night
that he come in thither fuddled, when we were there. But I did make them
friends by my buffoonery, and bringing up a way of spelling their names,
and making Theophila spell Lamton, which The. would have to be the name
of Mr. Eden’s mistress, and mighty merry we were till late, and then
I by coach home, and so to bed, my wife being ill of those, but well
enough pleased with my being with them. This day I do hear that Betty
Turner is to be left at school at Hackney, which I am mightily pleased
with; for then I shall, now and then, see her. She is pretty, and a girl
for that, and her relations, I love.
8th. Up, and to White Hall, to the King’s side, to find Sir T. Clifford,
where the Duke of York come and found me, which I was sorry for, for
fear he should think I was making friends on that side. But I did put it
off the best I could, my being there: and so, by and by, had opportunity
alone to shew Sir T. Clifford the fair account I had drawn up of the
Customes, which he liked, and seemed mightily pleased with me; and so
away to the Excise-Office, to do a little business there, and so to the
Office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and then to
the office again till the evening, and then with my wife by coach to
Islington, to pay what we owe there, for the late dinner at Jane’s
wedding; and so round by Kingsland and Hogsden home, pleased with my
wife’s singing with me, by the way, and so to the office again a
little, and then home to supper and to bed. Going this afternoon through
Smithfield, I did see a coach run over the coachman’s neck, and stand
upon it, and yet the man rose up, and was well after it, which I thought
a wonder.
9th. Up, and by water to White Hall, end there, with the Board, attended
the Duke of York, and Sir Thomas Allen with us (who come to town
yesterday); and it is resolved another fleete shall go to the Streights
forthwith, and he command it. But his coming home is mighty hardly
talked on by the merchants, for leaving their ships there to the mercy
of the Turks: but of this more in my White-Booke. Thence out, and
slipped out by water to Westminster Hall and there thought to have spoke
with Mrs. Martin, but she was not there, nor at home. So back again, and
with W. Hewer by coach home and to dinner, and then to the office, and
out again with W. Hewer to the Excise-Office, and to several places;
among others, to Mr. Faythorne’s, to have seen an instrument which he
was said to have, for drawing perspectives, but he had it not: but here
I did see his work-house, and the best things of his doing he had by
him, and so to other places among others to Westminster Hall, and I took
occasion to make a step to Mrs. Martin’s, the first time I have been
with her since her husband went last to sea, which is I think a year
since.... But, Lord! to hear how sillily she tells the story of her
sister Doll’s being a widow and lately brought to bed; and her husband,
one Rowland Powell, drowned, sea with her husband, but by chance dead at
sea, cast When God knows she hath played the whore, and forced at this
time after she was brought to bed, this story. Thence calling at several
places by the home, and there to the office, and then home to supper and
to bed.
10th. Up, and to the Excise-Office, and thence to White Hall a little,
and so back again to the ‘Change, but nobody there, it being over, and
so walked home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr. Seymour to visit
me, a talking fellow: but I hear by him that Captain Trevanion do give
it out every where, that I did overrule the whole Court-martiall against
him, as long as I was there; and perhaps I may receive, this time, some
wrong by it: but I care not, for what I did was out of my desire of
doing justice. So the office, where late, and then home to supper and to
bed.
11th (Lord’s day. Easter day). Up, and to Church; where Alderman
Backewell’s wife, and mother, and boy, and another gentlewoman, did
come, and sit in our pew; but no women of our own there, and so there
was room enough. Our Parson made a dull sermon, and so home to dinner;
and, after dinner, my wife and I out by coach, and Balty with us, to
Loton, the landscape-drawer, a Dutchman, living in St. James’s Market,
but there saw no good pictures. But by accident he did direct us to
a painter that was then in the house with him, a Dutchman, newly come
over, one Evarelst, who took us to his lodging close by, and did shew us
a little flower-pot of his doing, the finest thing that ever, I think,
I saw in my life; the drops of dew hanging on the leaves, so as I was
forced, again and again, to put my finger to it, to feel whether my eyes
were deceived or no. He do ask L70 for it: I had the vanity to bid him
L20; but a better picture I never saw in my whole life; and it is worth
going twenty miles to see it. Thence, leaving Balty there, I took my
wife to St. James’s, and there carried her to the Queen’s Chapel, the
first time I ever did it; and heard excellent musick, but not so good as
by accident I did hear there yesterday, as I went through the Park from
White Hall to see Sir W. Coventry, which I have forgot to set down in my
journal yesterday. And going out of the Chapel, I did see the Prince of
Tuscany’ come out, a comely, black, fat man, in a mourning suit; and my
wife and I did see him this afternoon through a window in this Chapel.
All that Sir W. Coventry yesterday did tell me new was, that the King
would not yet give him leave to come to kiss his hand; and he do believe
that he will not in a great while do it, till those about him shall see
fit, which I am sorry for. Thence to the Park, my wife and I; and here
Sir W. Coventry did first see me and my wife in a coach of our own; and
so did also this night the Duke of York, who did eye my wife mightily.
But I begin to doubt that my being so much seen in my own coach at this
time, may be observed to my prejudice; but I must venture it now. So
home, and by night home, and so to my office, and there set down my
journal, with the help of my left eye through my tube, for fourteen
days’ past; which is so much, as, I hope, I shall not run in arrear
again, but the badness of my eyes do force me to it. So home to supper
and to bed.
12th. Up, and by water to White Hall, where I of the whole Office
attended the Duke of York at his meeting with Sir Thomas Allen and
several flag-officers, to consider of the manner of managing the war
with Algiers; and, it being a thing I was wholly silent in, I did only
observe; and find that; their manner of discourse on this weighty affair
was very mean and disorderly, the Duke of York himself being the man
that I thought spoke most to the purpose. Having done here, I up and
down the house, talking with this man and that, and: then meeting Mr.
Sheres, took him to see the fine flower-pot I saw yesterday, and did
again offer L20 for it; but he [Verelst] insists upon L50. Thence I took
him to St. James’s, but there was no musique, but so walked to White
Hall, and, by and by to my wife at Unthanke’s, and with her was Jane,
and so to the Cocke, where they, and I, and Sheres, and Tom dined, my
wife having a great desire to eat of their soup made of pease, and dined
very well, and thence by water to the Bear-Garden, and there happened to
sit by Sir Fretcheville Hollis, who is still full of his vain-glorious
and prophane talk. Here we saw a prize fought between a soldier and
country fellow, one Warrell, who promised the least in his looks, and
performed the most of valour in his boldness and evenness of mind, and
smiles in all he did, that ever I saw and we were all both deceived and
infinitely taken with him. He did soundly beat the soldier, and cut him
over the head. Thence back to White Hall, mightily pleased, all of us,
with this sight, and particularly this fellow, as a most extraordinary
man for his temper and evenness in fighting. And there leaving Sheres,
we by our own coach home, and after sitting an hour, thrumming upon
my viall, and singing, I to bed, and left my wife to do something to a
waistcoat and petticoat she is to wear to-morrow. This evening, coming
home, we overtook Alderman Backewell’s coach and his lady, and followed
them to their house, and there made them the first visit, where they
received us with extraordinary civility, and owning the obligation.
But I do, contrary to my expectation, find her something a proud and
vain-glorious woman, in telling the number of her servants and family
and expences: he is also so, but he was ever of that strain. But here he
showed me the model of his houses that he is going to build in Cornhill
and Lumbard Street; but he hath purchased so much there, that it looks
like a little town, and must have cost him a great deal of money.
13th. Up, and at the Office a good while, and then, my wife going down
the River to spend the day with her mother at Deptford, I abroad, and
first to the milliner’s in Fenchurch Street, over against Rawlinson’s,
and there, meeting both him and her in the shop, I bought a pair of
gloves, and fell to talk, and found so much freedom that I stayed there
the best part of the morning till towards noon, with great pleasure, it
being a holiday, and then against my will away and to the ‘Change, where
I left W. Hewer, and I by hackney-coach to the Spittle, and heard a
piece of a dull sermon to my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, and thence saw
them all take horse and ride away, which I have not seen together many
a-day; their wives also went in their coaches; and, indeed, the sight
was mighty pleasing. Thence took occasion to go back to this milliner’s
[in Fenchurch Street], whose name I now understand to be Clerke; and
there, her husband inviting me up to the balcony, to see the sight go by
to dine at Clothworker’s-Hall, I did go up and there saw it go by: and
then; there being a good piece of cold roast beef upon the tables and
one Margetts, a young merchant that lodges there, and is likely to marry
a sister of hers, I staid and eat, and had much good conversation with
her, who hath the vanity to talk of her great friends and father, one
Wingate, near Welling;, that hath been a Parliament-man. Here also was
Stapely: the rope-merchant, and dined with us; and, after spending most
of the afternoon also, I away home, and there sent for W. Hewer, and he
and I by water to White Hall to loop among other things, for Mr. May,
to unbespeak his dining with me to-morrow. But here being in the
court-yard, God would have it, I spied Deb., which made my heart and
head to work, and I presently could not refrain, but sent W. Hewer away
to look for Mr. Wren (W. Hewer, I perceive, did see her, but whether
he did see me see her I know not, or suspect my sending him away I know
not, but my heart could not hinder me), and I run after her and two
women and a man, more ordinary people, and she in her old clothes,
and after hunting a little, find them in the lobby of the chapel below
stairs, and there I observed she endeavoured to avoid me, but I did
speak to her and she to me, and did get her pour dire me ou she demeurs
now, and did charge her para say nothing of me that I had vu elle, which
she did promise, and so with my heart full of surprize and disorder I
away, and meeting with Sir H. Cholmley walked into the Park with him and
back again, looking to see if I could spy her again in the Park, but I
could not. And so back to White Hall, and then back to the Park with Mr.
May, but could see her, no more, and so with W. Hewer, who I doubt by my
countenance might see some disorder in me, we home by water, and there
I find Talbot Pepys, and Mrs. Turner, and Betty, come to invite us to
dinner on Thursday; and, after drinking, I saw them to the water-side,
and so back home through Crutched Friars, and there saw Mary Mercer,
and put off my hat to her, on the other side of the way, but it being a
little darkish she did not, I think, know me well, and so to my office
to put my papers in order, they having been removed for my closet to be
made clean, and so home to my wife, who is come home from Deptford. But,
God forgive me, I hardly know how to put on confidence enough to speak
as innocent, having had this passage to-day with Deb., though only, God
knows, by accident. But my great pain is lest God Almighty shall suffer
me to find out this girl, whom indeed I love, and with a bad amour, but
I will pray to God to give me grace to forbear it. So home to supper,
where very sparing in my discourse, not giving occasion of any enquiry
where I have been to-day, or what I have done, and so without any
trouble to-night more than my fear, we to bed.
14th. Up, and with W. Hewer to White Hall, and there I did speak with
the Duke of York, the Council sitting in the morning, and it was to
direct me to have my business ready of the Administration of the Office
against Saturday next, when the King would have a hearing of it. Thence
home, W. Hewer with me, and then out with my own coach to the Duke
of York’s play-house, and there saw “The Impertinents,” a play which
pleases me well still; but it is with great trouble that I now see
a play, because of my eyes, the light of the candles making it very
troublesome to me. After the play; my wife and I towards the Park, but
it being too late we to Creed’s, and there find him and her [his wife]
together alone, in their new house, where I never was before, they
lodging before at the next door, and a pretty house it is; but I do
not see that they intend to keep any coach. Here they treat us like
strangers, quite according to the fashion--nothing to drink or eat,
which is a thing that will spoil our ever having any acquaintance with
them; for we do continue the old freedom and kindness of England to all
our friends. But they do here talk mightily of my Lady Paulina making a
very good end, and being mighty religious in her lifetime; and hath left
many good notes of sermons and religion; wrote with her own hand, hand,
which nobody ever knew of; which I am glad of: but she was always a
peevish lady. Thence home, and there to talk and to supper and to bed,
all being very safe as to my seeing of poor Deb. yesterday.
15th. Up, and to the office, and thence before the office sat to the
Excise Office with W. Hewer, but found some occasion to go another way
to the Temple upon business, and I by Deb.’s direction did know whither
in Jewen Street to direct my hackney coachman, while I staid in the
coach in Aldgate Street, to go thither just to enquire whether Mrs.
Hunt, her aunt, was in town, who brought me word she was not; thought
this was as much as I could do at once, and therefore went away troubled
through that I could do no more but to the office I must go and did, and
there all the morning, but coming thither I find Bagwell’s wife, who did
give me a little note into my hand, wherein I find her para invite me
para meet her in Moorfields this noon, where I might speak with her, and
so after the office was up, my wife being gone before by invitation to
my cozen Turner’s to dine, I to the place, and there, after walking
up and down by the windmills, I did find her and talk with her, but it
being holiday and the place full of people, we parted, leaving further
discourse and doing to another time. Thence I away, and through Jewen
Street, my mind, God knows, running that way, but stopped not, but going
down Holborne hill, by the Conduit, I did see Deb. on foot going up the
hill. I saw her, and she me, but she made no stop, but seemed unwilling
to speak to me; so I away on, but then stopped and ‘light, and after her
and overtook her at the end of Hosier lane in Smithfield, and without
standing in the street desired her to follow me, and I led her into a
little blind alehouse within the walls, and there she and I alone fell
to talk and baiser la and toker su mammailles, but she mighty coy, and
I hope modest.... I did give her in a paper 20s., and we did agree para
meet again in the Hall at Westminster on Monday next; and so giving me
great hopes by her carriage that she continues modest and honest, we did
there part, she going home and I to Mrs. Turner’s, but when I come back
to the place where I left my coach it was gone, I having staid too long,
which did trouble me to abuse the poor fellow, so that taking another
coach I did direct him to find out the fellow and send him to me. At my
cozen Turner’s I find they are gone all to dinner to Povy’s, and thither
I, and there they were all, and W. Batelier and his sister, and had
dined; but I had good things brought me, and then all up and down the
house, and mightily pleased to see the fine rooms: but, the truth is,
there are so many bad pictures, that to me make the good ones lose much
of the pleasure in seeing them. The. and Betty Turner in new flowered
tabby gowns, and so we were pretty merry, only my fear upon me for what
I had newly done, do keep my content in. So, about five or six o’clock,
away, and I took my wife and the two Bateliers, and carried them
homeward, and W. Batelier ‘lighting, I carried the women round by
Islington, and so down Bishopsgate Street home, and there to talk and
sup, and then to bed.
16th. Up, and to my chamber, where with Mr. Gibson all the morning,
and there by noon did almost finish what I had to write about the
Administration of the Office to present to the Duke of York, and my wife
being gone abroad with W. Hewer, to see the new play to-day, at the
Duke of York’s house, “Guzman,” I dined alone with my people, and in the
afternoon away by coach to White Hall; and there the Office attended the
Duke of York; and being despatched pretty soon, and told that we should
not wait on the King, as intended, till Sunday, I thence presently to
the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there, in the 18d. seat, did get
room to see almost three acts of the play; but it seemed to me but very
ordinary. After the play done, I into the pit, and there find my wife
and W. Hewer; and Sheres got to them, which, so jealous is my nature,
did trouble me, though my judgment tells me there is no hurt in it, on
neither side; but here I did meet with Shadwell, the poet, who, to my
great wonder, do tell me that my Lord of [Orrery] did write this play,
trying what he could do in comedy, since his heroique plays could do no
more wonders. This do trouble me; for it is as mean a thing, and so he
says, as hath been upon the stage a great while; and Harris, who hath no
part in it, did come to me, and told me in discourse that he was glad of
it, it being a play that will not take. Thence home, and to my business
at the office, to finish it, but was in great pain about yesterday
still, lest my wife should have sent her porter to enquire anything,
though for my heart I cannot see it possible how anything could be
discovered of it, but yet such is fear as to render me full of doubt and
disgust. At night to supper and to bed.
17th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon at home to
dinner, and there find Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and he dined with us;
and there hearing that “The Alchymist” was acted, we did go, and took
him with us to the King’s house; and it is still a good play, having not
been acted for two or three years before; but I do miss Clun, for the
Doctor. But more my eyes will not let me enjoy the pleasure I used to
have in a play. Thence with my wife in hackney to Sir W. Coventry’s, who
being gone to the Park we drove after him, and there met him coming
out, and followed him home, and there sent my wife to Unthanke’s while
I spent on hour with him reading over first my draught of the
Administration of the Navy, which he do like very well; and so fell
to talk of other things, and among the rest of the story of his
late disgrace, and how basely and in what a mean manner the Duke of
Buckingham hath proceeded against him--not like a man of honour. He
tells me that the King will not give other answer about his coming to
kiss his hands, than “Not yet.” But he says that this that he desires,
of kissing the King’s hand, is only to show to the world that he is not
discontented, and not in any desire to come again into play, though I do
perceive that he speaks this with less earnestness than heretofore:
and this, it may be, is, from what he told me lately, that the King is
offended at what is talked, that he hath declared himself desirous
not to have to do with any employment more. But he do tell me that the
leisure he hath yet had do not at all begin to be burdensome to him, he
knowing how to spend his time with content to himself; and that he hopes
shortly to contract his expence, so as that he shall not be under
any straits in that respect neither; and so seems to be in very good
condition of content. Thence I away over the Park, it being now night,
to White Hall, and there, in the Duchess’s chamber, do find the Duke
of York; and, upon my offer to speak with him, he did come to me, and
withdrew to his closet, and there did hear and approve my paper of the
Administration of the Navy, only did bid me alter these words, “upon
the rupture between the late King and the Parliament,” to these, “the
beginning of the late Rebellion;” giving it me as but reason to shew
that it was with the Rebellion that the Navy was put by out of its old
good course, into that of a Commission. Having done this, we fell to
other talk; he with great confidence telling me how matters go among our
adversaries, in reference to the Navy, and that he thinks they do begin
to flag; but then, beginning to talk in general of the excellency of old
constitutions, he did bring out of his cabinet, and made me read it, an
extract out of a book of my late Lord of Northumberland’s, so prophetic
of the business of Chatham, as is almost miraculous. I did desire, and
he did give it me to copy out, which pleased me mightily, and so, it
being late, I away and to my wife, and by hackney; home, and there,
my eyes being weary with reading so much: but yet not so much as I was
afeard they would, we home to supper and to bed.
18th (Lord’s day). Up, and all the morning till 2 o’clock at my
Office, with Gibson and Tom, about drawing up fair my discourse of the
Administration of the Navy, and then, Mr. Spong being come to dine with
me, I in to dinner, and then out to my Office again, to examine the fair
draught; and so borrowing Sir J. Minnes’s coach, he going with Colonel
Middleton, I to White Hall, where we all met and did sign it and then
to my Lord Arlington’s, where the King, and the Duke of York, and Prince
Rupert, as also Ormond and the two Secretaries, with my Lord Ashly
and Sir T. Clifton was. And there, by and by, being called in, Mr.
Williamson did read over our paper, which was in a letter to the Duke of
York, bound up in a book with the Duke of York’s Book of Instructions.
He read it well; and, after read, we were bid to withdraw, nothing being
at all said to it. And by and by we were called in again, and nothing
said to that business; but another begun, about the state of this year’s
action, and our wants of money, as I had stated the same lately to our
Treasurers; which I was bid, and did largely, and with great content,
open. And having so done, we all withdrew, and left them to debate our
supply of money; to which, being called in, and referred to attend on
the Lords of the Treasury, we all departed. And I only staid in the
House till the Council rose; and then to the Duke of York, who in the
Duchess’s chamber come to me, and told me that the book was there left
with my Lord Arlington, for any of the Lords to view that had a mind,
and to prepare and present to the King what they had to say in writing,
to any part of it, which is all we can desire, and so that rested. The
Duke of York then went to other talk; and by and by comes the Prince
of Tuscany to visit him, and the Duchess; and I find that he do still
remain incognito, and so intends to do all the time he stays here, for
avoiding trouble to the King and himself, and expence also to both.
Thence I to White Hall Gate, thinking to have found Sir J. Minnes’s
coach staying for me; but, not being there, and this being the first day
of rain we have had many a day, the streets being as dusty as in summer,
I forced to walk to my cozen Turner’s, and there find my wife newly gone
home, which vexed me, and so I, having kissed and taken leave of Betty,
who goes to Putney to school to-morrow, I walked through the rain to the
Temple, and there, with much ado, got a coach, and so home, and there to
supper, and Pelling comes to us, and after much talk, we parted, and to
bed.
19th. Up, and with Tom (whom, with his wife, I, and my wife, had this
morning taken occasion to tell that I did intend to give him L40 for
himself, and L20 to his wife, towards their setting out in the world,
and that my wife would give her L20 more, that she might have as much to
begin with as he) by coach to White Hall, and there having set him work
in the Robe Chamber, to write something for me, I to Westminster Hall,
and there walked from 10 o’clock to past 12, expecting to have met Deb.,
but whether she had been there before, and missing me went away, or is
prevented in coming, and hath no mind to come to me (the last whereof,
as being most pleasing, as shewing most modesty, I should be most glad
of), I know not, but she not then appearing, I being tired with walking
went home, and my wife being all day at Jane’s, helping her, as she
said, to cut out linen and other things belonging to her new condition,
I after dinner out again, and, calling for my coach, which was at the
coachmaker’s, and hath been for these two or three days, to be new
painted, and the window-frames gilt against May-day, went on with my
hackney to White Hall, and thence by water to Westminster Hall, and
there did beckon to Doll Lane, now Mrs. Powell, as she would have
herself called, and went to her sister Martin’s lodgings, the first time
I have been there these eight or ten months, I think, and her sister
being gone to Portsmouth to her Y husband, I did stay and talk and drink
with Doll.... So away:; and to White Hall, and there took my own coach,
which was now come, and so away home, and there to do business, and my
wife being come home we to talk and to sup, there having been nothing
yet like discovery in my wife of what hath lately passed with me about
Deb., and so with great content to bed
20th. Up; and to the Office, and my wife abroad with Mary Batelier, with
our own coach, but borrowed Sir J Minnes’s coachman, that so our own
might stay at home, to attend at dinner; our family being mightily
disordered by our little boy’s falling sick the last night; and we fear
it will prove the small-pox. At noon comes my guest, Mr. Hugh May, and
with him Sir Henry Capell, my old Lord Capel’s son, and Mr. Parker; and
I had a pretty dinner for them; and both before and after dinner had
excellent discourse; and shewed them my closet and my Office, and the
method of it to their great content; and more extraordinary, manly
discourse and opportunity of shewing myself, and learning from others, I
have not, in ordinary discourse, had in my life, they being all persons
of worth, but especially Sir H. Capell, whose being a Parliament-man,
and hearing my discourse in the Parliament-house, hath, as May tells me,
given him along desire to know and discourse with me. In the afternoon
we walked to the Old Artillery-Ground’ near the Spitalfields, where I
never was before, but now, by Captain Deane’s invitation, did go to
see his new gun tryed, this being the place where the Officers of the
Ordnance do try all their great guns; and when we come, did find that
the trial had been made; and they going away with extraordinary report
of the proof of his gun, which, from the shortness and bigness, they do
call Punchinello. But I desired Colonel Legg to stay and give us a sight
of her performance, which he did, and there, in short, against a gun
more than as long and as heavy again, and charged with as much powder
again, she carried the same bullet as strong to the mark, and nearer and
above the mark at a point blank than theirs, and is more easily managed,
and recoyles no more than that, which is a thing so extraordinary as to
be admired for the happiness of his invention, and to the great regret
of the old Gunners and Officers of the Ordnance that were there, only
Colonel Legg did do her much right in his report of her. And so, having
seen this great and first experiment, we all parted, I seeing my guests
into a hackney coach, and myself, with Captain Deane, taking a hackney
coach, did go out towards Bow, and went as far as Stratford, and all the
way talking of this invention, and he offering me a third of the profit
of the invention; which, for aught I know, or do at present think, may
prove matter considerable to us: for either the King will give him a
reward for it, if he keeps it to himself, or he will give us a patent
to make our profit of it: and no doubt but it will be of profit to
merchantmen and others, to have guns of the same force at half the
charge. This was our talk: and then to talk of other things, of the Navy
in general: and, among other things, he did tell me that he do hear
how the Duke of Buckingham hath a spite at me, which I knew before, but
value it not: and he tells me that Sir T. Allen is not my friend; but
for all this I am not much troubled, for I know myself so usefull that,
as I believe, they will not part with me; so I thank God my condition
is such that I can; retire, and be able to live with comfort, though
not with abundance. Thus we spent the evening with extraordinary good
discourse, to my great content, and so home to the Office, and there did
some business, and then home, where my wife do come home, and I vexed
at her staying out so late, but she tells me that she hath been at home
with M. Batelier a good while, so I made nothing of it, but to supper
and to bed.
21st. Up; and with my own coach as far as the Temple, and thence sent it
to my cozen Turner, who, to ease her own horses, that are going with her
out of town, do borrow mine to-day. So I to Auditor Wood’s, and thereto
meet, and met my Lord Bellassis upon some business of his accounts, and
having done that did thence go to St. James’s, and attended the Duke of
York a little, being the first time of my waiting on him at St. James’s
this summer, whither he is now newly gone and thence walked to White
Hall; and so, by and by, to the Council-Chamber, and heard a remarkable
cause pleaded between the Farmers of the Excise of Wiltshire, in
complaint against the justices of Peace of Salisbury: and Sir H. Finch
was for the former. But, Lord! to see how he did with his admirable
eloquence order the matter, is not to be conceived almost: so pleasant
a thing it is to hear him plead. Then at noon by coach home, and thither
by and by comes cozen Turner, and The., and Joyce, in their riding-clod:
they being come from their lodgings to her husbands chamber, at the
Temple, and there do lie, and purpose to go out of town on Friday next;
and here I had a good dinner for them. After dinner by water to White
Hall, where the Duke of York did meet our Office, and went with us to
the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury; and there we did go over all
the business of the state I had drawn up, of this year’s action and
expence, which I did do to their satisfaction, and convincing them of
the necessity of providing more money, if possible, for us. Thence the
Duke of York being gone, I did there stay walking with Sir H. Cholmly in
the Court, talking of news; where he told me, that now the great design
of the Duke of Buckingham is to prevent the meeting, since he cannot
bring about with the King the dissolving, of this Parliament, that
the King may not need it; and therefore my Lord St. Albans is hourly
expected with great offers of a million of money,--[From Louis XIV. See
April 28th]--to buy our breach with the Dutch: and this, they do think,
may tempt the King to take the money, and thereby be out of a necessity
of calling the Parliament again, which these people dare not suffer to
meet again: but this he doubts, and so do I, that it will be to the ruin
of the nation if we fall out with Holland. This we were discoursing
when my boy comes to tell me that his mistress was at the Gate with the
coach, whither I went, and there find my wife and the whole company.
So she, and Mrs. Turner, and The., and Talbot, in mine: and Joyce, W.
Batelier, and I, in a hackney, to Hyde Park, where I was ashamed to be
seen; but mightily pleased, though troubled, with a drunken coachman
that did not remember when we come to ‘light, where it was that he took
us up; but said at Hammersmith, and thither he was carrying of us
when we come first out of the Park. So I carried them all to
Hercules-Pillars, and there did treat them: and so, about ten at night,
parted, and my wife, and I, and W. Batelier, home; and he gone, we to
bed.
22nd. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home
to dinner, and Captain Deane with us; and very good discourse, and
particularly about my getting a book for him to draw up his whole theory
of shipping, which, at my desire, he hath gone far in, and hath shewn
me what he hath done therein, to admiration. I did give him a
Parallelogram, which he is mightily taken with; and so after dinner
to the Office, where all the afternoon till night late, and then home.
Vexed at my wife’s not being come home, she being gone again abroad with
M. Batelier, and come not home till ten at night, which vexed me, so
that I to bed, and lay in pain awake till past one, and then to sleep.
23rd. Going to rise, without saying anything, my wife stopped me; and,
after a little angry talk, did tell me how she spent all day yesterday
with M. Batelier and her sweetheart, and seeing a play at the New
Nursery, which is set up at the house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which
was formerly the King’s house. So that I was mightily pleased again, and
rose a with great content; and so by water to White Hall, and there to
the Council-Chamber, and heard two or three causes: among others, that
of the complaint of Sir Philip Howard and Watson, the inventors, as
they pretend, of the business of varnishing and lackerworke, against the
Company of Painters, who take upon them to do the same thing; where I
saw a great instance of the weakness of a young Counsel not used to such
an audience, against the Solicitor-General and two more able Counsel
used to it. Though he had the right of, his side, and did prevail for
what he pretended to against the rest, yet it was with much disadvantage
and hazard. Here, also I heard Mr. Papillion’ make his defence to the
King, against some complaints of the Farmers of Excise; but it was so
weak, and done only by his own seeking, that it was to his injury more
than profit, and made his case the worse, being ill managed, and in
a cause against the King. Thence at noon, the Council rising, I to
Unthanke’s, and there by agreement met my wife, and with her to the
Cocke, and did give her a dinner, but yet both of us but in an ill
humour, whatever was the matter with her, but thence to the King’s
playhouse, and saw “The Generous Portugalls,” a play that pleases me
better and better every time we see it; and, I thank God! it did not
trouble my eyes so much as I was afeard it would. Here, by accident, we
met Mr. Sheres, and yet I could not but be troubled, because my wife
do so delight to talk of him, and to see him. Nevertheless, we took him
with us to our mercer’s, and to the Exchange, and he helped me to choose
a summer-suit of coloured camelott, coat and breeches, and a flowered
tabby vest very rich; and so home, where he took his leave, and down to
Greenwich, where he hath some friends; and I to see Colonel Middleton,
who hath been ill for a day or two, or three; and so home to supper, and
to bed.
24th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home
to dinner, Mr. Sheres dining with us by agreement; and my wife, which
troubled me, mighty careful to have a handsome dinner for him; but yet
I see no reason to be troubled at it, he being a very civil and worthy
man, I think; but only it do seem to imply some little neglect of me.
After dinner to the King’s house, and there saw “The General” revived--a
good play, that pleases me well, and thence, our coach coming for us, we
parted and home, and I busy late at the office, and then home to supper
and to bed. Well pleased to-night to have Lead, the vizard-maker, bring
me home my vizard, with a tube fastened in it, which, I think, will do
my business, at least in a great measure, for the easing of my eyes.
25th (Lord’s day). Up, and to my Office awhile, and thither comes Lead
with my vizard, with a tube fastened within both eyes; which, with
the help which he prompts me to, of a glass in the tube, do content
me mightily. So to church, where a stranger made a dull sermon, but I
mightily pleased to looks upon Mr. Buckworth’s little pretty daughters,
and so home to, dinner, where W. Howe come and dined with us; and then
I to my Office, he being gone, to write down my journal for the last
twelve days: and did it with the help of my vizard and tube fixed to it,
and do find it mighty manageable, but how helpfull to my eyes this trial
will shew me. So abroad with my wife, in the afternoon, to the Park,
where very much company, and the weather very pleasant. I carried my
wife to the Lodge, the first time this year, and there in our coach eat
a cheese-cake and drank a tankard of milk. I showed her this day also
first the Prince of Tuscany, who was in the Park, and many very fine
ladies, and so home, and after supper to bed.
26th. Up, having lain long, and then by coach with W. Hewer to the
Excise Office, and so to Lilly’s, the Varnishes; who is lately dead,
and his wife and brother keep up the trade, and there I left my French
prints to be put on boards:, and, while I was there, a fire burst out
in a chimney of a house over against his house, but it was with a gun
quickly put out. So to White Hall, and did a little business there at
the Treasury chamber, and so homeward, calling at the laceman’s for some
lace for my new suit, and at my tailor’s, and so home, where to dinner,
and Mr. Sheres dined, with us, who come hither to-day to teach my wife
the rules of perspective; but I think, upon trial, he thinks it too hard
to teach her, being ignorant of the principles of lines. After dinner
comes one Colonel Macnachan, one that I see often at Court, a Scotchman,
but know him not; only he brings me a letter from my Lord Middleton,
who, he says, is in great distress for L500 to relieve my Lord Morton
with, but upon, what account I know not; and he would have me advance it
without order upon his pay for Tangier, which I was astonished at, but
had the grace to deny him with an excuse. And so he went away, leaving
me a little troubled that I was thus driven, on a sudden, to do any
thing herein; but Creed, coming just now to see me, he approves of what
I have done. And then to talk of general matters, and, by and by, Sheres
being gone, my wife, and he, and I out, and I set him down at Temple
Bar, and myself and wife went down the Temple upon seeming business,
only to put him off, and just at the Temple gate I spied Deb. with
another gentlewoman, and Deb. winked on me and smiled, but undiscovered,
and I was glad to see her. So my wife and I to the ‘Change, about things
for her; and here, at Mrs. Burnett’s shop, I am told by Betty, who
was all undressed, of a great fire happened in Durham-Yard last night,
burning the house of one Lady Hungerford, who was to come to town to it
this night; and so the house is burned, new furnished, by carelessness
of the girl sent to take off a candle from a bunch of candles, which she
did by burning it off, and left the rest, as is supposed, on fire. The
King and Court were here, it seems, and stopped the fire by blowing up
of the next house. The King and Court went out of town to Newmarket this
morning betimes, for a week. So home, and there to my chamber, and got
my wife to read to me a little, and so to supper and to bed. Coming home
this night I did call at the coachmaker’s, and do resolve upon having
the standards of my coach gilt with this new sort of varnish, which
will come but to 40s.; and, contrary to my expectation, the doing of the
biggest coach all over comes not to above L6, which is [not] very much.
27th. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning. At noon home to
dinner, and then to the Office again, where the afternoon busy till
late, and then home, and got my wife to read to me in the Nepotisme,
[The work here mentioned is a bitter satire against the Court Rome,
written in Italian, and attributed to Gregorio Leti. It was first
printed in 1667, without the name or place of printer, but it is
from the press of the Elzevirs. The book obtained by Pepys was
probably the anonymous English translation, “Il Nipotismo di Roma:
or the history of the Popes nephews from the time of Sixtus the IV.
to the death the last Pope Alexander the VII. In two parts. Written
originally Italian in the year 1667 and Englished by W. A. London,
1669” 8vo. From this work the word Nepotism is derived, and is
applied to the bad practice of statesmen, when in power, providing
lucrative places for their relations.]
which is very pleasant, and so to supper and to bed. This afternoon was
brought to me a fresh Distringas upon the score of the Tangier accounts
which vexes me, though I hope it will not turn to my wrong.
28th. Up, and was called upon by Sir H. Cholmly to discourse about some
accounts of his, of Tangier: and then other talk; and I find by him that
it is brought almost effect ([through] the late endeavours of the Duke
of York Duchess, the Queen-Mother, and my Lord St. Albans, together
with some of the contrary faction, my Lord Arlington), that for a sum of
money we shall enter into a league with the King of France, wherein, he
says, my Lord Chancellor--[Clarendon; then an exile in France.]--is also
concerned; and that he believes that, in the doing hereof, it is meant
that he [Clarendon] shall come again, and that this sum of money will
so help the King that he will not need the Parliament; and that, in that
regard it will be forwarded by the Duke of Buckingham and his faction,
who dread the Parliament. But hereby we must leave the Dutch, and that
I doubt will undo us; and Sir H. Cholmly says he finds W. Coventry do
think the like. Lady Castlemayne is instrumental in this matter, and,
he say never more great with the King than she is now. But this a thing
that will make the Parliament and kingdom mad, and will turn to our
ruine: for with this money the King shall wanton away his time in
pleasures, and think nothing of the main till it be too late. He gone,
I to the office, where busy till noon, and then home to dinner, where W.
Batelier dined with us, and pretty merry, and so I to the office again.
This morning Mr. Sheres sent me, in two volumes, Mariana his History of
Spaine, in Spanish, an excellent book; and I am much obliged for it to
him.
29th. Up, and to the Office, where all the morning, and at noon dined at
home, and then to the Office again, there to despatch as much business
as I could, that I might be at liberty to-morrow to look after my many
things that I have to do, against May-day. So at night home to supper
and to bed.
30th. Up, and by coach to the coachmaker’s: and there I do find a
great many ladies sitting in the body of a coach that must be ended
by to-morrow: they were my Lady Marquess of Winchester, Bellassis, and
other great ladies; eating of bread and butter, and drinking ale. I to
my coach, which is silvered over, but no varnish yet laid on, so I put
it in a way of doing; and myself about other business, and particularly
to see Sir W. Coventry, with whom I talked a good while to my great
content; and so to other places-among others, to my tailor’s: and then
to the belt-maker’s, where my belt cost me 55s., of the colour of my new
suit; and here, understanding that the mistress of the house, an oldish
woman in a hat hath some water good for the eyes, she did dress me,
making my eyes smart most horribly, and did give me a little glass of
it, which I will use, and hope it will do me good. So to the cutler’s,
and there did give Tom, who was with me all day a sword cost me 12s. and
a belt of my owne; and set my own silver-hilt sword a-gilding against
to-morrow. This morning I did visit Mr. Oldenburgh, and did see the
instrument for perspective made by Dr. Wren, of which I have one making
by Browne; and the sight of this do please me mightily. At noon my wife
come to me at my tailor’s, and I sent her home and myself and Tom dined
at Hercules’ Pillars; and so about our business again, and particularly
to Lilly’s, the varnisher about my prints, whereof some of them
are pasted upon the boards, and to my full content. Thence to the
frame-maker’s one Morris, in Long Acre, who shewed me several forms of
frames to choose by, which was pretty, in little bits of mouldings,
to choose by. This done, I to my coach-maker’s, and there vexed to see
nothing yet done to my coach, at three in the afternoon; but I set it in
doing, and stood by it till eight at night, and saw the painter varnish
which is pretty to see how every doing it over do make it more and more
yellow; and it dries as fast in the sun as it can be laid on almost; and
most coaches are, now-a-days done so, and it is very pretty when laid
on well, and not pale, as some are, even to shew the silver. Here I did
make the workmen drink, and saw my coach cleaned and oyled; and, staying
among poor people there in the alley, did hear them call their fat child
Punch, which pleased me mightily that word being become a word of common
use for all that is thick and short. At night home, and there find my
wife hath been making herself clean against to-morrow; and, late as it
was, I did send my coachman and horses to fetch home the coach to-night,
and so we to supper, myself most weary with walking and standing so
much, to see all things fine against to-morrow, and so to bed. God give
a blessing to it! Meeting with Mr. Sheres, he went with me up and down
to several places, and, among others, to buy a perriwig, but I bought
none; and also to Dancre’s, where he was about my picture of Windsor,
which is mighty pretty, and so will the prospect of Rome be.