Samuel Pepys diary April 1667

APRIL 1667

April 1st. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes in his coach, set him down at the
Treasurers Office in Broad-streete, and I in his coach to White Hall, and
there had the good fortune to walk with Sir W. Coventry into the garden,
and there read our melancholy letter to the Duke of York, which he likes.
And so to talk: and he flatly owns that we must have a peace, for we
cannot set out a fleete; and, to use his own words, he fears that we shall
soon have enough of fighting in this new way, which we have thought on for
this year. He bemoans the want of money, and discovers himself jealous
that Sir G. Carteret do not look after, or concern himself for getting,
money as he used to do, and did say it is true if Sir G. Carteret would
only do his work, and my Lord Treasurer would do his own, Sir G. Carteret
hath nothing to do to look after money, but if he will undertake my Lord
Treasurers work to raise money of the Bankers, then people must expect
that he will do it, and did further say, that he [Carteret] and my Lord
Chancellor do at this very day labour all they can to villify this new way
of raising money, and making it payable, as it now is, into the Exchequer;
and expressly said that in pursuance hereof, my Lord Chancellor hath
prevailed with the King, in the close of his last speech to the House, to
say, that he did hope to see them come to give money as it used to be
given, without so many provisos, meaning, as Sir W. Coventry says, this
new method of the Act. While we were talking, there come Sir Thomas Allen
with two ladies; one of which was Mrs. Rebecca Allen, that I knew
heretofore, the clerk of the rope-yards daughter at Chatham, who, poor
heart! come to desire favour for her husband, who is clapt up, being a
Lieutenant [Jowles], for sending a challenge to his Captain, in the most
saucy, base language that could be writ. I perceive [Sir] W. Coventry is
wholly resolved to bring him to punishment; for, bear with this, says
he, and no discipline shall ever be expected. She in this sad condition
took no notice of me, nor I of her. So away we to the Duke of York, and
there in his closett [Sir] W. Coventry and I delivered the letter, which
the Duke of York made not much of, I thought, as to laying it to heart, as
the matter deserved, but did promise to look after the getting of money
for us, and I believe Sir W. Coventry will add what force he can to it. I
did speak to [Sir] W. Coventry about Baltys warrant, which is ready, and
about being Deputy Treasurer, which he very readily and friendlily agreed
to, at which I was glad, and so away and by coach back to Broad-streete to
Sir G. Carterets, and there found my brother passing his accounts, which
I helped till dinner, and dined there, and many good stories at dinner,
among others about discoveries of murder, and Sir J. Minnes did tell of
the discovery of his own great-grandfathers murder, fifteen years after
he was murdered. Thence, after dinner, home and by water to Redriffe, and
walked (fine weather) to Deptford, and there did business and so back
again, walked, and pleased with a jolly femme that I saw going and coming
in the way, which je could avoir been contented pour avoir staid with if I
could have gained acquaintance con elle, but at such times as these I am
at a great loss, having not confidence, no alcune ready wit. So home and
to the office, where late, and then home to supper and bed. This evening
Mrs. Turner come to my office, and did walk an hour with me in the garden,
telling me stories how Sir Edward Spragge hath lately made love to our
neighbour, a widow, Mrs. Hollworthy, who is a woman of estate, and wit and
spirit, and do contemn him the most, and sent him away with the greatest
scorn in the world; she tells me also odd stories how the parish talks of
Sir W. Pens family, how poorly they clothe their daughter so soon after
marriage, and do say that Mr. Lowther was married once before, and some
such thing there hath been, whatever the bottom of it is. But to think of
the clatter they make with his coach, and his owne fine cloathes, and yet
how meanly they live within doors, and nastily, and borrowing everything
of neighbours is a most shitten thing.

2nd. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting, and much
troubled, but little business done for want of money, which makes me
mighty melancholy. At noon home to dinner, and Mr. Deane with me, who hath
promised me a very fine draught of the Rupert, which he will make
purposely for me with great perfection, which I will make one of the
beautifullest things that ever was seen of the kind in the world, she
being a ship that will deserve it. Then to the office, where all the
afternoon very busy, and in the evening weary home and there to sing, but
vexed with the unreadiness of the girles voice to learn the latter part
of my song, though I confess it is very hard, half notes. So to supper and
to bed.

3rd. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to White Hall to Sir W. Coventrys
chamber, and there did receive the Dukes order for Baltys receiving of
the contingent money to be paymaster of it, and it pleases me the more for
that it is but L1500, which will be but a little sum for to try his
ability and honesty in the disposing of, and so I am the willinger to
trust and pass my word for him therein. By and by up to the Duke of York,
where our usual business, and among other things I read two most dismal
letters of the straits we are in (from Collonell Middleton and
Commissioner Taylor) that ever were writ in the world, so as the Duke of
York would have them to shew the King, and to every demand of money,
whereof we proposed many and very pressing ones, Sir G. Carteret could
make no answer but no money, which I confess made me almost ready to cry
for sorrow and vexation, but that which was the most considerable was when
Sir G. Carteret did say that he had no funds to raise money on; and being
asked by Sir W. Coventry whether the eleven months tax was not a fund,
and he answered, No, that the bankers would not lend money upon it. Then
Sir W. Coventry burst out and said he did supplicate his Royal Highness,
and would do the same to the King, that he would remember who they were
that did persuade the King from parting with the Chimney-money to the
Parliament, and taking that in lieu which they would certainly have given,
and which would have raised infallibly ready money; meaning the bankers
and the farmers of the Chimney-money, whereof Sir, G. Carteret, I think,
is one; saying plainly, that whoever did advise the King to that, did, as
much as in them lay, cut the Kings throat, and did wholly betray him; to
which the Duke of York did assent; and remembered that the King did say
again and again at the time, that he was assured, and did fully believe,
the money would be raised presently upon a land-tax. This put as all into
a stound; and Sir W. Coventry went on to declare, that he was glad he was
come to have so lately concern in the Navy as he hath, for he cannot now
give any good account of the Navy business; and that all his work now was
to be able to provide such orders as would justify his Royal Highness in
the business, when it shall be called to account; and that he do do, not
concerning himself whether they are or can be performed, or no; and that
when it comes to be examined, and falls on my Lord Treasurer, he cannot
help it, whatever the issue of it shall be. Hereupon Sir W. Batten did
pray him to keep also by him all our letters that come from the office
that may justify us, which he says he do do, and, God knows, it is an ill
sign when we are once to come to study how to excuse ourselves. It is a
sad consideration, and therewith we broke up, all in a sad posture, the
most that ever I saw in my life. One thing more Sir W. Coventry did say to
the Duke of York, when I moved again, that of about L9000 debt to Lanyon,
at Plymouth, he might pay L3700 worth of prize-goods, that he bought
lately at the candle, out of this debt due to him from the King; and the
Duke of York, and Sir G: Carteret, and Lord Barkeley, saying, all of them,
that my Lord Ashly would not be got to yield to it, who is Treasurer of
the Prizes, Sir W. Coventry did plainly desire that it might be declared
whether the proceeds of the prizes were to go to the helping on of the
war, or no; and, if it were, how then could this be denied? which put them
all into another stound; and it is true, God forgive us! Thence to the
chappell, and there, by chance, hear that Dr. Crew is to preach; and so
into the organ-loft, where I met Mr. Carteret, and my Lady Jemimah, and
Sir Thomas Crews two daughters, and Dr. Childe played; and Dr. Crew did
make a very pretty, neat, sober, honest sermon; and delivered it very
readily, decently, and gravely, beyond his years: so as I was exceedingly
taken with it, and I believe the whole chappell, he being but young; but
his manner of his delivery I do like exceedingly. His text was, But seeke
ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things
shall be added unto you. Thence with my Lady to Sir G. Carterets
lodgings, and so up into the house, and there do hear that the Dutch
letters are come, and say that the Dutch have ordered a passe to be sent
for our Commissioners, and that it is now upon the way, coming with a
trumpeter blinded, as is usual. But I perceive every body begins to doubt
the success of the treaty, all their hopes being only that if it can be
had on any terms, the Chancellor will have it; for he dare not come before
a Parliament, nor a great many more of the courtiers, and the King himself
do declare he do not desire it, nor intend it but on a strait; which God
defend him from! Here I hear how the King is not so well pleased of this
marriage between the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stewart, as is talked; and
that he [the Duke] by a wile did fetch her to the Beare, at the
Bridge-foot, where a coach was ready, and they are stole away into Kent,
without the Kings leave; and that the King hath said he will never see
her more; but people do think that it is only a trick. This day I saw
Prince Rupert abroad in the Vane-room, pretty well as he used to be, and
looks as well, only something appears to be under his periwigg on the
crown of his head. So home by water, and there find my wife gone abroad to
her tailors, and I dined alone with W. Hewer, and then to the office to
draw up a memorial for the Duke of York this afternoon at the Council
about Lanyons business. By and by we met by appointment at the office
upon a reference to Carcasses business to us again from the Duke of York,
but a very confident cunning rogue we have found him at length. He carried
himself very uncivilly to Sir W. Batten this afternoon, as heretofore, and
his silly Lord [Bruncker] pleaded for him, but all will not nor shall not
do for ought he shall give, though I love the man as a man of great parts
and ability. Thence to White Hall by water (only asking Betty Michell by
the way how she did), and there come too late to do any thing at the
Council. So by coach to my periwigg makers and tailors, and so home,
where I find my wife with her flageolet master, which I wish she would
practise, and so to the office, and then to Sir W. Battens, and then to
Sir W. Pens, talking and spending time in vain a little while, and then
home up to my chamber, and so to supper and to bed, vexed at two or three
things, viz. that my wifes watch proves so bad as it do; the ill state of
the office; and Kingdoms business; at the charge which my mothers death
for mourning will bring me when all paid.

4th. Up, and going down found Jervas the barber with a periwigg which I
had the other day cheapened at Westminster, but it being full of nits, as
heretofore his work used to be, I did now refuse it, having bought
elsewhere. So to the office till noon, busy, and then (which I think I
have not done three times in my life) left the board upon occasion of a
letter of Sir W. Coventry, and meeting Balty at my house I took him with
me by water, and to the Duke of Albemarle to give him an account of the
business, which was the escaping of some soldiers for the manning of a few
ships now going out with Harman to the West Indies, which is a sad
consideration that at the very beginning of the year and few ships abroad
we should be in such want of men that they do hide themselves, and swear
they will not go to be killed and have no pay. I find the Duke of
Albemarle at dinner with sorry company, some of his officers of the Army;
dirty dishes, and a nasty wife at table, and bad meat, of which I made but
an ill dinner. Pretty to hear how she talked against Captain Du Tell, the
Frenchman, that the Prince and her husband put out the last year; and how,
says she, the Duke of York hath made him, for his good services, his
Cupbearer; yet he fired more shot into the Princes ship, and others of
the Kings ships, than of the enemy. And the Duke of Albemarle did confirm
it, and that somebody in the fight did cry out that a little Dutchman, by
his ship, did plague him more than any other; upon which they were going
to order him to be sunk, when they looked and found it was Du Tell, who,
as the Duke of Albemarle says, had killed several men in several of our
ships. He said, but for his interest, which he knew he had at Court, he
had hanged him at the yards-arm, without staying for a Court-martiall.
One Colonel Howard, at the table, magnified the Duke of Albemarles fight
in June last, as being a greater action than ever was done by Caesar. The
Duke of Albemarle, did say it had been no great action, had all his number
fought, as they should have done, to have beat the Dutch; but of his 55
ships, not above 25 fought. He did give an account that it was a fight he
was forced to: the Dutch being come in his way, and he being ordered to
the buoy of the Nore, he could not pass by them without fighting, nor
avoid them without great disadvantage and dishonour; and this Sir G.
Carteret, I afterwards giving him an account of what he said, says that it
is true, that he was ordered up to the Nore. But I remember he said, had
all his captains fought, he would no more have doubted to have beat the
Dutch, with all their number, than to eat the apple that lay on his
trencher. My Lady Duchesse, among other things, discoursed of the wisdom
of dividing the fleete; which the General said nothing to, though he knows
well that it come from themselves in the fleete, and was brought up hither
by Sir Edward Spragge. Colonel Howard, asking how the prince did, the Duke
of Albemarle answering, Pretty well; the other replied, But not so well
as to go to sea again.—How! says the Duchess, what should he go
for, if he were well, for there are no ships for him to command? And so
you have brought your hogs to a fair market, said she. [It was pretty to
hear the Duke of Albemarle himself to wish that they would come on our
ground, meaning the French, for that he would pay them, so as to make them
glad to go back to France again; which was like a general, but not like an
admiral.] One at the table told an odd passage in this late plague: that
at Petersfield, I think, he said, one side of the street had every house
almost infected through the town, and the other, not one shut up. Dinner
being done, I brought Balty to the Duke of Albemarle to kiss his hand and
thank him far his kindness the last year to him, and take leave of him,
and then Balty and I to walk in the Park, and, out of pity to his father,
told him what I had in my thoughts to do for him about the money—that
is, to make him Deputy Treasurer of the fleete, which I have done by
getting Sir G. Carterets consent, and an order from the Duke of York for
L1500 to be paid to him. He promises the whole profit to be paid to my
wife, for to be disposed of as she sees fit, for her father and mothers
relief. So mightily pleased with our walk, it being mighty pleasant
weather, I back to Sir G. Carterets, and there he had newly dined, and
talked, and find that he do give every thing over for lost, declaring no
money to be raised, and let Sir W. Coventry name the man that persuaded
the King to take the Land Tax on promise, of raising present money upon
it. He will, he says, be able to clear himself enough of it. I made him
merry, with telling him how many land-admirals we are to have this year:
Allen at Plymouth, Holmes at Portsmouth, Spragge for Medway, Teddiman at
Dover, Smith to the Northward, and Harman to the Southward. He did defend
to me Sir W. Coventry as not guilty of the dividing of the fleete the last
year, and blesses God, as I do, for my Lord Sandwichs absence, and tells
me how the King did lately observe to him how they have been particularly
punished that were enemies to my Lord Sandwich. Mightily pleased I am with
his family, and my Lady Carteret was on the bed to-day, having been let
blood, and tells me of my Lady Jemimahs being big-bellied. Thence with
him to my Lord Treasurers, and there walked during Council sitting with
Sir Stephen Fox, talking of the sad condition of the Kings purse, and
affairs thereby; and how sad the Kings life must be, to pass by his
officers every hour, that are four years behind-hand unpaid. My Lord
Barkeley [of Stratton] I met with there, and fell into talk with him on
the same thing, wishing to God that it might be remedied, to which he
answered, with an oath, that it was as easy to remedy it as anything in
the world; saying, that there is himself and three more would venture
their carcasses upon it to pay all the Kings debts in three years, had
they the managing his revenue, and putting L300,000 in his purse, as a
stock. But, Lord! what a thing is this to me, that do know how likely a
man my Lord Barkeley of all the world is, to do such a thing as this. Here
I spoke with Sir W. Coventry, who tells me plainly that to all future
complaints of lack of money he will answer but with the shrug of his
shoulder; which methought did come to my heart, to see him to begin to
abandon the Kings affairs, and let them sink or swim, so he do his owne
part, which I confess I believe he do beyond any officer the King hath,
but unless he do endeavour to make others do theirs, nothing will be done.
The consideration here do make me go away very sad, and so home by coach,
and there took up my wife and Mercer, who had been to-day at White Hall to
the Maundy,

[The practice of giving alms on Maundy Thursday to poor men and
women equal in number to the years of the sovereigns age is a
curious survival in an altered form of an old custom. The original
custom was for the king to wash the feet of twelve poor persons, and
to give them a supper in imitation of Christs last supper and his
washing of the Apostles feet. James II. was the last sovereign to
perform the ceremony in person, but it was performed by deputy so
late as 1731. The Archbishop of York was the kings deputy on that
occasion. The institution has passed through the various stages of
feet washing with a supper, the discontinuance of the feet washing,
the substitution of a gift of provisions for the supper, and finally
the substitution of a gift of money for the provisions. The
ceremony took place at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall; but it is now
held at Westminster Abbey. Maundy is derived from the Latin word
maudatum, which commences the original anthem sung during the
ceremony, in reference to Christs command]

it being Maundy Thursday; but the King did not wash the poor peoples feet
himself, but the Bishop of London did it for him, but I did not see it,
and with them took up Mrs. Anne Jones at her mothers door, and so to take
the ayre to Hackney, where good neats tongue, and things to eat and
drink, and very merry, the weather being mighty pleasant; and here I was
told that at their church they have a fair pair of organs, which play
while the people sing, which I am mighty glad of, wishing the like at our
church at London, and would give L50 towards it. So very pleasant, and
hugging of Mercer in our going home, we home, and then to the office to do
a little business, and so to supper at home and to bed.

5th. Up, and troubled with Mr. Carcasses coming to speak with me, which
made me give him occasion to fall into a heat, and he began to be
ill-mannered to me, which made me angry. He gone, I to Sir W. Pen about
the business of Mrs. Turners son to keep his ship in employment, but so
false a fellow as Sir W. Pen is I never did nor hope shall ever know
again. So to the office, and there did business, till dinnertime, and then
home to dinner, wife and I alone, and then down to the Old Swan, and drank
with Betty and her husband, but no opportunity para baiser la. So to White
Hall to the Council chamber, where I find no Council held till after the
holidays. So to Westminster Hall, and there bought a pair of snuffers, and
saw Mrs. Howlett after her sickness come to the Hall again. So by coach to
the New Exchange and Mercers and other places to take up bills for what I
owe them, and to Mrs. Pierce, to invite her to dinner with us on Monday,
but staid not with her. In the street met with Mr. Sanchy, my old
acquaintance at Cambridge, reckoned a great minister here in the City; and
by Sir Richard Ford particularly, which I wonder at; for methinks, in his
talk, he is but a mean man. I set him down in Holborne, and I to the Old
Exchange, and there to Sir Robert Viners, and made up my accounts there,
to my great content; but I find they do not keep them so regularly as, to
be able to do it easily, and truly, and readily, nor would it have been
easily stated by any body on my behalf but myself, several things being to
be recalled to memory, which nobody else could have done, and therefore it
is fully necessary for me to even accounts with these people as often as I
can. So to the Change, and there met with Mr. James Houblon, but no
hopes, as he sees, of peace whatever we pretend, but we shall be abused by
the King of France. Then home to the office, and busy late, and then to
Sir W. Battens, where Mr. Young was talking about the building of the
City again; and he told me that those few churches that are to be new
built are plainly not chosen with regard to the convenience of the City;
they stand a great many in a cluster about Cornhill; but that all of them
are either in the gift of the Lord Archbishop, or Bishop of London, or
Lord Chancellor, or gift of the City. Thus all things, even to the
building of churches, are done in this world! And then he says, which I
wonder at, that I should not in all this time see, that Moorefields have
houses two stories high in them, and paved streets, the City having let
leases for seven years, which he do conclude will be very much to the
hindering the building of the City; but it was considered that the streets
cannot be passable in London till a whole street be built; and several
that had got ground of the City for charity, to build sheds on, had got
the trick presently to sell that for L60, which did not cost them L20 to
put up; and so the City, being very poor in stock, thought it as good to
do it themselves, and therefore let leases for seven years of the ground
in Moorefields; and a good deal of this money, thus advanced, hath been
employed for the enabling them to find some money for Commissioner Taylor,
and Sir W. Batten, towards the charge of The Loyall London, or else, it
is feared, it had never been paid. And Taylor having a bill to pay wherein
Alderman Hooker was concerned it was his invention to find out this way of
raising money, or else this had not been thought on. So home to supper and
to bed. This morning come to me the Collectors for my Pollmoney; for which
I paid for my title as Esquire and place of Clerk of Acts, and my head and
wifes, and servants and their wages, L40 17s; and though this be a great
deal, yet it is a shame I should pay no more; that is, that I should not
be assessed for my pay, as in the Victualling business and Tangier; and
for my money, which, of my own accord, I had determined to charge myself
with L1000 money, till coming to the Vestry, and seeing nobody of our
ablest merchants, as Sir Andrew Rickard, to do it, I thought it not decent
for me to do it, nor would it be thought wisdom to do it unnecessarily,
but vain glory.

6th. Up, and betimes in the morning down to the Tower wharfe, there to
attend the shipping of soldiers, to go down to man some ships going out,
and pretty to see how merrily some, and most go, and how sad others—the
leave they take of their friends, and the terms that some wives, and other
wenches asked to part with them: a pretty mixture. So to the office,
having staid as long as I could, and there sat all the morning, and then
home at noon to dinner, and then abroad, Balty with me, and to White Hall,
by water, to Sir G. Carteret, about Baltys L1500 contingent money for the
fleete to the West Indys, and so away with him to the Exchange, and
mercers and drapers, up and down, to pay all my scores occasioned by this
mourning for my mother; and emptied a L50 bag, and it was a joy to me to
see that I am able to part with such a sum, without much inconvenience; at
least, without any trouble of mind. So to Captain Cockes to meet Fenn, to
talk about this money for Balty, and there Cocke tells me that he is
confident there will be a peace, whatever terms be asked us, and he
confides that it will take because the French and Dutch will be jealous
one of another which shall give the best terms, lest the other should make
the peace with us alone, to the ruin of the third, which is our best
defence, this jealousy, for ought I at present see. So home and there very
late, very busy, and then home to supper and to bed, the people having got
their house very clean against Mondays dinner.

7th (Easter day). Up, and when dressed with my wife (in mourning for my
mother) to church both, where Mr. Mills, a lazy sermon. Home to dinner,
wife and I and W. Hewer, and after dinner I by water to White Hall to Sir
G. Carterets, there to talk about Baltys money, and did present Balty to
him to kiss his hand, and then to walk in the Parke, and heard the Italian
musique at the Queens chapel, whose composition is fine, but yet the
voices of eunuchs I do not like like our women, nor am more pleased with
it at all than with English voices, but that they do jump most excellently
with themselves and their instrument, which is wonderful pleasant; but I
am convinced more and more, that, as every nation has a particular accent
and tone in discourse, so as the tone of one not to agree with or please
the other, no more can the fashion of singing to words, for that the
better the words are set, the more they take in of the ordinary tone of
the country whose language the song speaks, so that a song well composed
by an Englishman must be better to an Englishman than it can be to a
stranger, or than if set by a stranger in foreign words. Thence back to
White Hall, and there saw the King come out of chapel after prayers in the
afternoon, which he is never at but after having received the Sacrament:
and the Court, I perceive, is quite out of mourning; and some very fine;
among others, my Lord Gerard, in a very rich vest and coat. Here I met
with my Lord Bellasses: and it is pretty to see what a formal story he
tells me of his leaving, his place upon the death of my Lord Cleveland, by
which he is become Captain of the Pensioners; and that the King did leave
it to him to keep the other or take this; whereas, I know the contrary,
that they had a mind to have him away from Tangier. He tells me he is
commanded by the King to go down to the Northward to satisfy the Deputy
Lieutenants of Yorkshire, who have desired to lay down their commissions
upon pretence of having no profit by their places but charge, but indeed
is upon the Duke of Buckinghams being under a cloud (of whom there is yet
nothing heard), so that the King is apprehensive of their discontent, and
sends him to pacify them, and I think he is as good a dissembler as any
man else, and a fine person he is for person, and proper to lead the
Pensioners, but a man of no honour nor faith I doubt. So to Sir G.
Carterets again to talk with him about Baltys money, and wrote a letter
to Portsmouth about part of it, and then in his coach, with his little
daughter Porpot (as he used to nickname her), and saw her at home, and her
maid, and another little gentlewoman, and so I walked into Moore Fields,
and, as is said, did find houses built two stories high, and like to
stand; and it must become a place of great trade, till the City be built;
and the street is already paved as London streets used to be, which is a
strange, and to mean unpleasing sight. So home and to my chamber about
sending an express to Portsmouth about Baltys money, and then comes Mrs.
Turner to enquire after her sons business, which goes but bad, which led
me to show her how false Sir W. Pen is to her, whereupon she told me his
obligations to her, and promises to her, and how a while since he did show
himself dissatisfied in her sons coming to the table and applying himself
to me, which is a good nut, and a nut I will make use of. She gone I to
other business in my chamber, and then to supper and to bed. The Swedes
Embassadors and our Commissioners are making all the haste they can over
to the treaty for peace, and I find at Court, and particularly Lord
Bellasses, says there will be a peace, and it is worth remembering what
Sir W. Coventry did tell me (as a secret though) that whereas we are
afeard Harmans fleete to the West Indys will not be got out before the
Dutch come and block us up, we shall have a happy pretext to get out our
ships under pretence of attending the Embassadors and Commissioners, which
is a very good, but yet a poor shift.

8th. Up, and having dressed myself, to the office a little, and out,
expecting to have seen the pretty daughter of the Ship taverne at the
hither end of Billiter Lane (whom I never yet have opportunity to speak
to). I in there to drink my morning draught of half a pint of Rhenish
wine; but a ma doleur elle and their family are going away thence, and a
new man come to the house. So I away to the Temple, to my new.
booksellers; and there I did agree for Rycauts late History of the
Turkish Policy, which costs me 55s.; whereas it was sold plain before the
late fire for 8s., and bound and coloured as this is for 20s.; for I have
bought it finely bound and truly coloured, all the figures, of which there
was but six books done so, whereof the King and Duke of York, and Duke of
Monmouth, and Lord Arlington, had four. The fifth was sold, and I have
bought the sixth. So to enquire out Mrs. Knipps new lodging, but could
not, but do hear of her at the Playhouse, where she was practising, and I
sent for her out by a porter, and the jade come to me all undressed, so
cannot go home to my house to dinner, as I had invited her, which I was
not much troubled at, because I think there is a distance between her and
Mrs. Pierce, and so our company would not be so pleasant. So home, and
there find all things in good readiness for a good dinner, and here
unexpectedly I find little Mis. Tooker, whom my wife loves not from the
report of her being already naught; however, I do shew her countenance,
and by and by come my guests, Dr. Clerke and his wife, and Mrs. Worshipp,
and her daughter; and then Mr. Pierce and his wife, and boy, and Betty;
and then I sent for Mercer; so that we had, with my wife and I, twelve at
table, and very good and pleasant company, and a most neat and excellent,
but dear dinner; but, Lord! to see with what envy they looked upon all my
fine plate was pleasant; for I made the best shew I could, to let them
understand me and my condition, to take down the pride of Mrs. Clerke, who
thinks herself very great. We sat long, and very merry, and all things
agreeable; and, after dinner, went out by coaches, thinking to have seen a
play, but come too late to both houses, and then they had thoughts of
going abroad somewhere; but I thought all the charge ought not to be mine,
and therefore I endeavoured to part the company, and so ordered it to set
them all down at Mrs. Pierces; and there my wife and I and Mercer left
them in good humour, and we three to the Kings house, and saw the latter
end of the Surprisall, a wherein was no great matter, I thought, by what
I saw there. Thence away to Polichinello, and there had three times more
sport than at the play, and so home, and there the first night we have
been this year in the garden late, we three and our Barker singing very
well, and then home to supper, and so broke up, and to bed mightily
pleased with this days pleasure.

9th. Up. and to the office a while, none of my fellow officers coming to
sit, it being holiday, and so towards noon I to the Exchange, and there do
hear mighty cries for peace, and that otherwise we shall be undone; and
yet I do suspect the badness of the peace we shall make. Several do
complain of abundance of land flung up by tenants out of their hands for
want of ability to pay their rents; and by name, that the Duke of
Buckingham hath L6000 so flung up. And my father writes, that Jasper
Trice, upon this pretence of his tenants dealing with him, is broke up
housekeeping, and gone to board with his brother, Naylor, at Offord; which
is very sad. So home to dinner, and after dinner I took coach and to the
Kings house, and by and by comes after me my wife with W. Hewer and his
mother and Barker, and there we saw The Tameing of a Shrew, which hath
some very good pieces in it, but generally is but a mean play; and the
best part, Sawny,

[This play was entitled Sawney the Scot, or the Taming of a Shrew,
and consisted of an alteration of Shakespeares play by John Lacy.
Although it had long been popular it was not printed until 1698. In
the old Taming of a Shrew (1594), reprinted by Thomas Amyot for
the Shakespeare Society in 1844, the heros servant is named Sander,
and this seems to have given the hint to Lacy, when altering
Shakespeares Taming of the Shrew, to foist a Scotsman into the
action. Sawney was one of Lacys favourite characters, and occupies
a prominent position in Michael Wrights picture at Hampton Court.
Evelyn, on October 3rd, 1662, visited Mr. Wright, a Scotsman, who
had livd long at Rome, and was esteemd a good painter, and he
singles out as his best picture, Lacy, the famous Roscius, or
comedian, whom he has painted in three dresses, as a gallant, a
Presbyterian minister, and a Scotch Highlander in his plaid.
Langbaine and Aubrey both make the mistake of ascribing the third
figure to Teague in The Committee; and in spite of Evelyns clear
statement, his editor in a note follows them in their blunder.
Planche has reproduced the picture in his History of Costume
(Vol. ii., p. 243).]

done by Lacy, hath not half its life, by reason of the words, I suppose,
not being understood, at least by me. After the play was done, as I come
so I went away alone, and had a mind to have taken out Knipp to have taken
the ayre with her, and to that end sent a porter in to her that she should
take a coach and come to me to the Piatza in Covent Garden, where I waited
for her, but was doubtful I might have done ill in doing it if we should
be visti ensemble, sed elle was gone out, and so I was eased of my care,
and therefore away to Westminster to the Swan, and there did baiser la
little missa…. and drank, and then by water to the Old Swan, and there
found Betty Michell sitting at the door, it being darkish. I staid and
talked a little with her, but no once baiser la, though she was to my
thinking at this time une de plus pretty mohers that ever I did voir in my
vida, and God forgive me my mind did run sobre elle all the vespre and
night and la day suivante. So home and to the office a little, and then to
Sir W. Battens, where he tells me how he hath found his ladys jewels
again, which have been so long lost, and a servant imprisoned and
arraigned, and they were in her closet under a china cup, where he hath
servants will swear they did look in searching the house; but Mrs. Turner
and I, and others, do believe that they were only disposed of by my Lady,
in case she had died, to some friends of hers, and now laid there again.
So home to supper, and to read the book I bought yesterday of the Turkish
policy, which is a good book, well writ, and so owned by Dr. Clerke
yesterday to me, commending it mightily to me for my reading as the only
book of the subject that ever was writ, yet so designedly. So to bed.

10th. Up, and to my office a little, and then, in the garden, find Sir W.
Pen; and he and I to Sir W. Batten, where he tells us news of the new
disorders of Hogg and his men in taking out of 30 tons of wine out of a
prize of ours, which makes us mad; and that, added to the unwillingness of
the men to go longer abroad without money, do lead us to conclude not to
keep her abroad any longer, of which I am very glad, for I do not like our
doings with what we have already got, Sir W. Batten ordering the disposal
of our wines and goods, and he leaves it to Morrice the cooper, who I take
to be a cunning proud knave, so that I am very desirous to adventure no
further. So away by water from the Old Swan to White Hall, and there to
Sir W. Coventrys, with whom I staid a great while longer than I have done
these many months, and had opportunity of talking with him, and he do
declare himself troubled that he hath any thing left him to do in the
Navy, and would be glad to part with his whole profits and concernments in
it, his pains and care being wholly ineffectual during this lack of money;
the expense growing infinite, the service not to be done, and discipline
and order not to be kept, only from want of money. I begun to discourse
with him the business of Tangier, which by the removal of my Lord
Bellasses, is now to have a new Governor; and did move him, that at this
season all the business of reforming the garrison might be considered,
while nobody was to be offended; and I told him it is plain that we do
overspend our revenue: that the place is of no more profit to the King
than it was the first day, nor in itself of better credit; no more people
of condition willing to live there, nor any thing like a place likely to
turn his Majesty to account: that it hath been hitherto, and, for aught I
see, likely only to be used as a job to do a kindness to some Lord, or he
that can get to be Governor. Sir W. Coventry agreed with me, so as to say,
that unless the King hath the wealth of the Mogul, he would be a beggar to
have his businesses ordered in the manner they now are: that his garrisons
must be made places only of convenience to particular persons that he hath
moved the Duke of York in it; and that it was resolved to send no Governor
thither till there had been Commissioners sent to put the garrison in
order, so as that he that goes may go with limitations and rules to
follow, and not to do as he please, as the rest have hitherto done. That
he is not afeard to speak his mind, though to the displeasure of any man;
and that I know well enough; but that, when it is come, as it is now, that
to speak the truth in behalf of the King plainly do no good, but all
things bore down by other measures than by what is best for the King, he
hath no temptation to be perpetually fighting of battles, it being more
easy to him do those terms to suffer things to go on without giving any
man offence, than to have the same thing done, and he contract the
displeasure of all the world, as he must do, that will be for the King. I
did offer him to draw up my thoughts in this matter to present to the Duke
of York, which he approved of, and I do think to do it. So away, and by
coach going home saw Sir G. Carteret going towards White Hall. So light
and by water met him, and with him to the Kings little chapel; and
afterwards to see the King heal the Kings Evil, wherein no pleasure, I
having seen it before; and then to see him and the Queene and Duke of York
and his wife, at dinner in the Queenes lodgings; and so with Sir G.
Carteret to his lodgings to dinner; where very good company; and after
dinner he and I to talk alone how things are managed, and to what ruin we
must come if we have not a peace. He did tell me one occasion, how Sir
Thomas Allen, which I took for a man of known courage and service on the
Kings side, was tried for his life in Prince Ruperts fleete, in the late
times, for cowardice, and condemned to be hanged, and fled to Jersey;
where Sir G. Carteret received him, not knowing the reason of his coming
thither: and that thereupon Prince Rupert wrote to the Queen-Mother his
dislike of Sir G. Carterets receiving a person that stood condemned; and
so Sir G. Carteret was forced to bid him betake himself to some other
place. This was strange to me. Our Commissioners are preparing to go to
Bredah to the treaty, and do design to be going the next week. So away by
coach home, where there should have been a meeting about Carcasses
business, but only my Lord and I met, and so broke up, Carcasse having
only read his answer to his charge, which is well writ, but I think will
not prove to his advantage, for I believe him to be a very rogue. So home,
and Balty and I to look Mr. Fenn at Sir G. Carterets office in Broad
Streete, and there missing him and at the bankers hard by, we home, and I
down by water to Deptford Dockyard, and there did a little business, and
so home back again all the way reading a little piece I lately bought,
called The Virtuoso, or the Stoicke, proposing many things paradoxical
to our common opinions, wherein in some places he speaks well, but
generally is but a sorry man. So home and to my chamber to enter my two
last days journall, and this, and then to supper and to bed. Blessed be
God! I hear that my father is better and better, and will, I hope, live to
enjoy some cheerful days more; but it is strange what he writes me, that
Mr. Weaver, of Huntingdon, who was a lusty, likely, and but a youngish
man, should be dead.

11th. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and (which is
now rare, he having not been with us twice I think these six months) Sir
G. Carteret come to us upon some particular business of his office, and
went away again. At noon I to the Change, and there hear by Mr. Hublon of
the loss of a little East Indiaman, valued at about L20,000, coming home
alone, and safe to within ten leagues of Scilly, and there snapt by a
French Caper. Our merchants do much pray for peace; and he tells me that
letters are come that the Dutch have stopped the fitting of their great
ships, and the coming out of a fleete of theirs of 50 sayle, that was
ready to come out; but I doubt the truth of it yet. Thence to Sir G.
Carteret, by his invitation to his office, where my Lady was, and dined
with him, and very merry and good people they are, when pleased, as any I
know. After dinner I to the office, where busy till evening, and then with
Balty to Sir G. Carterets office, and there with Mr. Fenn despatched the
business of Baltys L1500 he received for the contingencies of the fleete,
whereof he received about L253 in pieces of eight at a goldsmiths there
hard by, which did puzzle me and him to tell; for I could not tell the
difference by sight, only by bigness, and that is not always discernible,
between a whole and half-piece and quarterpiece. Having received this
money I home with Balty and it, and then abroad by coach with my wife and
set her down at her fathers, and I to White Hall, thinking there to have
seen the Duchess of Newcastles coming this night to Court, to make a
visit to the Queene, the King having been with her yesterday, to make her
a visit since her coming to town. The whole story of this lady is a
romance, and all she do is romantick. Her footmen in velvet coats, and
herself in an antique dress, as they say; and was the other day at her own
play, The Humourous Lovers; the most ridiculous thing that ever was
wrote, but yet she and her Lord mightily pleased with it; and she, at the
end, made her respects to the players from her box, and did give them
thanks. There is as much expectation of her coming to Court, that so
people may come to see her, as if it were the Queen of Sheba; but I lost
my labour, for she did not come this night. So, meeting Mr. Brisband, he
took me up to my Lady Jemimahs chamber, who is let blood to-day, and so
there we sat and talked an hour, I think, very merry and one odd thing or
other, and so away, and I took up my wife at her tailors (whose wife is
brought to bed, and my wife must be godmother), and so with much ado got a
coach to carry us home, it being late, and so to my chamber, having little
left to do at my office, my eyes being a little sore by reason of my
reading a small printed book the other day after it was dark, and so to
supper and to bed. It comes in my head to set down that there have been
two fires in the City, as I am told for certain, and it is so, within this

12th. Up, and when ready, and to my office, to do a little business, and,
coming homeward again, saw my door and hatch open, left so by Luce, our
cookmayde, which so vexed me, that I did give her a kick in our entry, and
offered a blow at her, and was seen doing so by Sir W. Pens footboy,
which did vex me to the heart, because I know he will be telling their
family of it; though I did put on presently a very pleasant face to the
boy, and spoke kindly to him, as one without passion, so as it may be he
might not think I was angry, but yet I was troubled at it. So away by
water to White Hall, and there did our usual business before the Duke of
York; but it fell out that, discoursing of matters of money, it rose to a
mighty heat, very high words arising between Sir G. Carteret and [Sir] W.
Coventry, the former in his passion saying that the other should have
helped things if they were so bad; and the other answered, so he would,
and things should have been better had he been Treasurer of the Navy. I
was mightily troubled at this heat, and it will breed ill blood, I fear;
but things are in that bad condition that I do daily expect when we shall
all fly in one anothers faces, when we shall be reduced, every one, to
answer for himself. We broke up; and I soon after to Sir G. Carterets
chamber, where I find the poor man telling his lady privately, and she
weeping. I went into them, and did seem, as indeed I was, troubled for
this; and did give the best advice I could, which, I think, did please
them: and they do apprehend me their friend, as indeed I am, for I do take
the Vice-chamberlain for a most honest man. He did assure me that he was
not, all expences and things paid, clear in estate L15,000 better than he
was when the King come in; and that the King and Lord Chancellor did know
that he was worth, with the debt the King owed him, L50,000, I think, he
said, when the King come into England. I did pacify all I could, and then
away by water home, there to write letters and things for the dispatch of
Balty away this day to sea; and after dinner he did go, I having given him
much good counsell; and I have great hopes that he will make good use of
it, and be a good man, for I find him willing to take pains and very
sober. He being gone, I close at my office all the afternoon getting off
of hand my papers, which, by the late holidays and my laziness, were grown
too many upon my hands, to my great trouble, and therefore at it as late
as my eyes would give me leave, and then by water down to Redriffe,
meaning to meet my wife, who is gone with Mercer, Barker, and the boy (it
being most sweet weather) to walk, and I did meet with them, and walked
back, and then by the time we got home it was dark, and we staid singing
in the garden till supper was ready, and there with great pleasure. But I
tried my girles Mercer and Barker singly one after another, a single song,
At dead low ebb, etc., and I do clearly find that as to manner of
singing the latter do much the better, the other thinking herself as I do
myself above taking pains for a manner of singing, contenting ourselves
with the judgment and goodness of eare. So to supper, and then parted and
to bed.

13th. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and strange how
the false fellow Commissioner. Pett was eager to have had Carcasses
business brought on to-day that he might give my Lord Bruncker (who hates
him, I am sure, and hath spoke as much against him to the King in my
hearing as any man) a cast of his office in pleading for his man Carcasse,
but I did prevent its being brought on to-day, and so broke up, and I home
to dinner, and after dinner with a little singing with some pleasure alone
with my poor wife, and then to the office, where sat all the afternoon
till late at night, and then home to supper and to bed, my eyes troubling
me still after candle-light, which troubles me. Wrote to my father, who, I
am glad to hear, is at some ease again, and I long to have him in town,
that I may see what can be done for him here; for I would fain do all I
can that I may have him live, and take pleasure in my doing well in the
world. This afternoon come Mrs. Lowther to me to the office, and there je
did toker ses mammailles and did baiser them and su bocca, which she took
fort willingly….

14th (Lords day). Up, and to read a little in my new History of Turkey,
and so with my wife to church, and then home, where is little Michell and
my pretty Betty and also Mercer, and very merry. A good dinner of roast
beef. After dinner I away to take water at the Tower, and thence to
Westminster, where Mrs. Martin was not at home. So to White Hall, and
there walked up and down, and among other things visited Sir G. Carteret,
and much talk with him, who is discontented, as he hath reason, to see how
things are like to come all to naught, and it is very much that this
resolution of having of country Admirals should not come to his eares till
I told him the other day, so that I doubt who manages things. From him to
Margarets Church, and there spied Martin, and home with her….. but fell
out to see her expensefullness, having bought Turkey work, chairs, &c.
By and by away home, and there took out my wife, and the two Mercers, and
two of our mayds, Barker and Jane, and over the water to the Jamaica
House, where I never was before, and there the girls did run for wagers
over the bowling-green; and there, with much pleasure, spent little, and
so home, and they home, and I to read with satisfaction in my book of
Turkey, and so to bed.

15th. Lay long in bed, and by and by called up by Sir H. Cholmly, who
tells me that my Lord Middleton is for certain chosen Governor of Tangier;
a man of moderate understanding, not covetous, but a soldier of fortune,
and poor. Here comes Mr. Sanchy with an impertinent business to me of a
ticket, which I put off. But by and by comes Dr. Childe by appointment,
and sat with me all the morning making me bases and inward parts to
several songs that I desired of him, to my great content. Then dined, and
then abroad by coach, and I set him down at Hatton Garden, and I to the
Kings house by chance, where a new play: so full as I never saw it; I
forced to stand all the while close to the very door till I took cold, and
many people went away for want of room. The King, and Queene, and Duke of
York and Duchesse there, and all the Court, and Sir W. Coventry. The play
called The Change of Crownes; a play of Ned Howards, the best that ever
I saw at that house, being a great play and serious; only Lacy did act the
country-gentleman come up to Court, who do abuse the Court with all the
imaginable wit and plainness about selling of places, and doing every
thing for money. The play took very much. Thence I to my new booksellers,
and there bought Hookers Polity, the new edition, and Dugdales
History of the Inns of Court, of which there was but a few saved out of
the fire, and Playfords new Catch-book, that hath a great many new
fooleries in it. Then home, a little at the office, and then to supper and
to bed, mightily pleased with the new play.

16th. Up, and to the office, where sat all the morning, at noon home to
dinner, and thence in haste to carry my wife to see the new play I saw
yesterday, she not knowing it. But there, contrary to expectation, find
The Silent Woman. However, in; and there Knipp come into the pit. I took
her by me, and here we met with Mrs. Horsley, the pretty woman—an
acquaintance of Mercers, whose house is burnt. Knipp tells me the King
was so angry at the liberty taken by Lacys, part to abuse him to his
face, that he commanded they should act no more, till Moone went and got
leave for them to act again, but not this play. The King mighty angry; and
it was bitter indeed, but very true and witty. I never was more taken with
a play than I am with this Silent Woman, as old as it is, and as often
as I have seen it. There is more wit in it than goes to ten new plays.
Thence with my wife and Knipp to Mrs. Pierces, and saw her closet again,
and liked her picture. Thence took them all to the Cake-house, in
Southampton Market-place, where Pierce told us the story how, in good
earnest, [the King] is offended with the Duke of Richmonds marrying, and
Mrs. Stewarts sending the King his jewels again. As she tells it, it is
the noblest romance and example of a brave lady that ever I read in my
life. Pretty to hear them talk of yesterdays play, and I durst not own to
my wife to have seen it. Thence home and to [Sir] W. Battens, where we
have made a bargain for the ending of some of the trouble about some of
our prizes for L1400. So home to look on my new books that I have lately
bought, and then to supper and to bed.

17th. Up, and with the two Sir Williams by coach to the Duke of York, who
is come to St. Jamess, the first time we have attended him there this
year. In our way, in Tower Street, we saw Desbrough walking on foot: who
is now no more a prisoner, and looks well, and just as he used to do
heretofore. When we come to the Duke of Yorks I was spoke to by Mr.
Bruncker on behalf of Carcasse. Thence by coach to Sir G. Carterets, in
London, there to pass some accounts of his, and at it till dinner, and
then to work again a little, and then go away, and my wife being sent for
by me to the New Exchange I took her up, and there to the Kings playhouse
(at the door met with W. Joyce in the street, who come to our coach side,
but we in haste took no notice of him, for which I was sorry afterwards,
though I love not the fellow, yet for his wifes sake), and saw a piece of
Rollo, a play I like not much, but much good acting in it: the house
very empty. So away home, and I a little to the office, and then to Sir
Robert Viners, and so back, and find my wife gone down by water to take a
little ayre, and I to my chamber and there spent the night in reading my
new book, Origines Juridiciales, which pleases me. So to supper and to

18th. Up, and to read more in the Origines, and then to the office,
where the news is strong that not only the Dutch cannot set out a fleete
this year, but that the French will not, and that he hath given the answer
to the Dutch Embassador, saying that he is for the King of Englands,
having an honourable peace, which, if true, is the best news we have had a
good while. At the office all the morning, and there pleased with the
little pretty Deptford woman I have wished for long, and she hath occasion
given her to come again to me. After office I to the Change a little, and
then home and to dinner, and then by coach with my wife to the Duke of
Yorks house, and there saw The Wits, a play I formerly loved, and is
now corrected and enlarged: but, though I like the acting, yet I like not
much in the play now. The Duke of York and [Sir] W. Coventry gone to
Portsmouth, makes me thus to go to plays. So home, and to the office a
little and then home, where I find Goodgroome, and he and I did sing
several things over, and tried two or three grace parts in Playfords new
book, my wife pleasing me in singing her part of the things she knew,
which is a comfort to my very heart. So he being gone we to supper and to

19th. Up, and to the office all the morning, doing a great deal of
business. At noon to dinner betimes, and then my wife and I by coach to
the Dukes house, calling at Lovetts, where I find my Lady Castlemaynes
picture not yet done, which has lain so many months there, which vexes me,
but I mean not to trouble them more after this is done. So to the
playhouse, not much company come, which I impute to the heat of the
weather, it being very hot. Here we saw Macbeth,

[See November 5th, 1664. Downes wrote: The Tragedy of Macbeth,
alterd by Sir William Davenant; being drest in all its finery, as
new cloaths, new scenes, machines as flyings for the Witches; with
all the singing and dancing in it. The first composd by Mr. Lock,
the other by Mr. Channell and Mr. Joseph Preist; it being all
excellently performd, being in the nature of an opera, it
recompencd double the expence; it proves still a lasting play.]

which, though I have seen it often, yet is it one of the best plays for a
stage, and variety of dancing and musique, that ever I saw. So being very
much pleased, thence home by coach with young Goodyer and his own sister,
who offered us to go in their coach. A good-natured youth I believe he is,
but I fear will mind his pleasures too much. She is pretty, and a modest,
brown girle. Set us down, so my wife and I into the garden, a fine
moonshine evening, and there talking, and among other things she tells me
that she finds by W. Hewer that my people do observe my minding my
pleasure more than usual, which I confess, and am ashamed of, and so from
this day take upon me to leave it till Whit-Sunday. While we were sitting
in the garden comes Mrs. Turner to advise about her son, the Captain, when
I did give her the best advice I could, to look out for some land
employment for him, a peace being at hand, when few ships will be employed
and very many, and these old Captains, to be provided for. Then to other
talk, and among the rest about Sir W. Pens being to buy Wansted House of
Sir Robert Brookes, but has put him off again, and left him the other day
to pay for a dinner at a tavern, which she says our parishioner, Mrs.
Hollworthy, talks of; and I dare be hanged if ever he could mean to buy
that great house, that knows not how to furnish one that is not the tenth
part so big. Thence I to my chamber to write a little, and then to bed,
having got a mighty cold in my right eare and side of my throat, and in
much trouble with it almost all the night.

20th. Up, with much pain in my eare and palate. To the office out of
humour all the morning. At noon dined, and with my wife to the Kings
house, but there found the bill torn down and no play acted, and so being
in the humour to see one, went to the Duke of Yorks house, and there saw
The Witts again, which likes me better than it did the other day, having
much wit in it. Here met with Mr. Rolt, who tells me the reason of no play
to-day at the Kings house. That Lacy had been committed to the porters
lodge for his acting his part in the late new play, and that being thence
released he come to the Kings house, there met with Ned Howard, the poet
of the play, who congratulated his release; upon which Lacy cursed him as
that it was the fault of his nonsensical play that was the cause of his
ill usage. Mr. Howard did give him some reply; to which Lacy [answered]
him, that he was more a fool than a poet; upon which Howard did give him a
blow on the face with his glove; on which Lacy, having a cane in his hand,
did give him a blow over the pate. Here Rolt and others that discoursed of
it in the pit this afternoon did wonder that Howard did not run him
through, he being too mean a fellow to fight with. But Howard did not do
any thing but complain to the King of it; so the whole house is silenced,
and the gentry seem to rejoice much at it, the house being become too
insolent. Here were many fine ladies this afternoon at this house as I
have at any time seen, and so after the play home and there wrote to my
father, and then to walk in the garden with my wife, resolving by the
grace of God to see no more plays till Whitsuntide, I having now seen a
play every day this week till I have neglected my business, and that I am
ashamed of, being found so much absent; the Duke of York and Sir W.
Coventry having been out of town at Portsmouth did the more embolden me
thereto. So home, and having brought home with me from Fenchurch Street a
hundred of sparrowgrass,—[A form once so commonly used for asparagus
that it has found its way into dictionaries.]—cost 18d. We had them
and a little bit of salmon, which my wife had a mind to, cost 3s. So to
supper, and my pain being somewhat better in my throat, we to bed.

21st (Lords day). Up, and John, a hackney coachman whom of late I have
much used, as being formerly Sir W. Pens coachman, coming to me by my
direction to see whether I would use him to-day or no, I took him to our
backgate to look upon the ground which is to be let there, where I have a
mind to buy enough to build a coach-house and stable; for I have had it
much in my thoughts lately that it is not too much for me now, in degree
or cost, to keep a coach, but contrarily, that I am almost ashamed to be
seen in a hackney, and therefore if I can have the conveniency, I will
secure the ground at least till peace comes, that I do receive
encouragement to keep a coach, or else that I may part with the ground
again. The place I like very well, being close to my owne house, and so
resolve to go about it, and so home and with my wife to church, and then
to dinner, Mercer with us, with design to go to Hackney to church in the
afternoon. So after dinner she and I sung Suo Moro, which is one of the
best pieces of musique to my thinking that ever I did hear in my life;
then took coach and to Hackney church, where very full, and found much
difficulty to get pews, I offering the sexton money, and he could not help
me. So my wife and Mercer ventured into a pew, and I into another. A
knight and his lady very civil to me when they come, and the like to my
wife in hers, being Sir G. Viner and his lady—rich in jewells, but
most in beauty—almost the finest woman that ever I saw. That which
we went chiefly to see was the young ladies of the schools,—[Hackney
was long famous for its boarding schools.]—whereof there is great
store, very pretty; and also the organ, which is handsome, and tunes the
psalm, and plays with the people; which is mighty pretty, and makes me
mighty earnest to have a pair at our church, I having almost a mind to
give them a pair, if they would settle a maintenance on them for it. I am
mightily taken with them. So, church done, we to coach and away to
Kingsland and Islington, and there eat and drank at the Old House, and so
back, it raining a little, which is mighty welcome, it having not rained
in many weeks, so that they say it makes the fields just now mighty sweet.
So with great pleasure home by night. Set down Mercer, and I to my
chamber, and there read a great deal in Rycauts Turkey book with great
pleasure, and so eat and to bed. My sore throat still troubling me, but
not so much. This night I do come to full resolution of diligence for a
good while, and I hope God will give me the grace and wisdom to perform

22nd. Up pretty betimes, my throat better, and so drest me, and to White
Hall to see Sir W. Coventry, returned from Portsmouth, whom I am almost
ashamed to see for fear he should have been told how often I have been at
plays, but it is better to see him at first than afterward. So walked to
the Old Swan and drank at Michells, and then to White Hall and over the
Park to St. Jamess to [Sir] W. Coventry, where well received, and good
discourse. He seems to be sure of a peace; that the King of France do not
intend to set out a fleete, for that he do design Flanders. Our
Embassadors set out this week. Thence I over the Park to Sir G. Carteret,
and after him by coach to the Lord Chancellors house, the first time I
have been therein; and it is very noble, and brave pictures of the ancient
and present nobility, never saw better. Thence with him to London, mighty
merry in the way. Thence home, and find the boy out of the house and
office, and by and by comes in and hath been to Mercers. I did pay his
coat for him. Then to my chamber, my wife comes home with linen she hath
been buying of. I then to dinner, and then down the river to Greenwich,
and the watermen would go no further. So I turned them off, giving them
nothing, and walked to Woolwich; there did some business, and met with
Captain Cocke and back with him. He tells me our peace is agreed on; we
are not to assist the Spanyard against the French for this year, and no
restitution, and we are likely to lose Poleroone.

[Among the State Papers is a document dated July 8th, 1667, in which
we read: At Breda, the business is so far advanced that the English
have relinquished their pretensions to the ships Henry Bonaventure
and Good Hope. The matter sticks only at Poleron; the States have
resolved not to part with it, though the English should have a right
to it (Calendar, 1667, p. 278).]

I know not whether this be true or no, but I am for peace on any terms. He
tells me how the King was vexed the other day for having no paper laid him
at the Council-table, as was usual; and Sir Richard Browne did tell his
Majesty he would call the person whose work it was to provide it: who
being come, did tell his Majesty that he was but a poor man, and was out
L400 or L500 for it, which was as much as he is worth; and that he cannot
provide it any longer without money, having not received a penny since the
Kings coming in. So the King spoke to my Lord Chamberlain; and many such
mementos the King do now-a-days meet withall, enough to make an ingenuous
man mad. I to Deptford, and there scolded with a master for his ships not
being gone, and so home to the office and did business till my eyes are
sore again, and so home to sing, and then to bed, my eyes failing me

23rd (St. Georges-day). The feast being kept at White Hall, out of
design, as it is thought, to make the best countenance we can to the
Swedes Embassadors, before their leaving us to go to the treaty abroad,
to shew some jollity. We sat at the office all the morning. Word is
brought me that young Michell is come to call my wife to his wifes
labour, and she went, and I at the office full of expectation what to hear
from poor Betty Michell. This morning much to do with Sir W. Warren, all
whose applications now are to Lord Bruncker, and I am against him now, not
professedly, but apparently in discourse, and will be. At noon home to
dinner, where alone, and after dinner to my musique papers, and by and by
comes in my wife, who gives me the good news that the midwife and she
alone have delivered poor Betty of a pretty girl, which I am mighty glad
of, and she in good condition, my wife as well as I mightily pleased with
it. Then to the office to do things towards the post, and then my wife and
I set down at her mothers, and I up and down to do business, but did
little; and so to Mrs. Martins, and there did hazer what I would con her,
and then called my wife and to little Michells, where we saw the little
child, which I like mightily, being I allow very pretty, and asked her how
she did, being mighty glad of her doing well, and so home to the office,
and then to my chamber, and so to bed.

24th. Up, and with [Sir] W. Pen to St. Jamess, and there the Duke of York
was preparing to go to some further ceremonies about the Garter, that he
could give us no audience. Thence to Westminster Hall, the first day of
the Term, and there joyed Mrs. Michell, who is mightily pleased with my
wifes work yesterday, and so away to my barbers about my periwigg, and
then to the Exchange, there to meet Fenn about some money to be borrowed
of the office of the Ordnance to answer a great pinch. So home to dinner,
and in the afternoon met by agreement (being put on it by Harry Brunckers
frighting us into a despatch of Carcasses business) [Lord] Bruncker, T.
Harvey, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, and I (Sir W. Pen keeping out of
the way still), where a great many high words from Bruncker, and as many
from me and others to him, and to better purpose, for I think we have
fortified ourselves to overthrow his man Carcasse, and to do no honour to
him. We rose with little done but great heat, not to be reconciled I
doubt, and I care not, for I will be on the right side, and that shall
keep me: Thence by coach to Sir John Duncombs lodging in the Pell Mell,—[See
November 8th, 1664]—in order to the money spoken of in the morning;
and there awhile sat and discoursed.: and I find him that he is a very
proper man for business, being very resolute and proud, and industrious.
He told me what reformation they had made in the office of the Ordnance,
taking away Leggs fees:

[William Legge, eldest son of Edward Legge, sometime Vice-President
of Munster, born 1609(?). He served under Maurice of Nassau and
Gustavus Adolphus, and held the rank of colonel in the Royalist
army. He closely attached himself to Prince Rupert, and was an
active agent in affecting the reconciliation between that prince and
his uncle Charles I. Colonel Legge distinguished himself in several
actions, and was wounded and taken prisoner at the battle of
Worcester; it was said that he would have been executed if his wife
had not contrived his escape from Coventry gaol in her own clothes.
He was Groom of the Bedchamber to Charles I., and also to Charles
II.; he held the offices of Master of the Armories and Lieutenant-
General of the Ordnance. He refused honours (a knighthood from
Charles I. and an earldom from Charles II.), but his eldest son
George was created Baron Dartmouth in 1682. He died October 13th,
1672, at his house in the Minories, and was buried in]

and have got an order that no Treasurer after him shall ever sit at the
Board; and it is a good one: that no master of the Ordnance here shall
ever sell a place. He tells me they have not paid any increase of price
for any thing during this war, but in most have paid less; and at this day
have greater stores than they know where to lay, if there should be peace,
and than ever was any time this war. That they pay every man in course,
and have notice of the disposal of every farthing. Every man that they owe
money to has his share of every sum they receive; never borrowed all this
war but L30,000 by the Kings express command, but do usually stay till
their assignments become payable in their own course, which is the whole
mystery, that they have had assignments for a fifth part of whatever was
assigned to the Navy. They have power of putting out and in of all
officers; are going upon a building that will cost them L12,000; that they
out of their stock of tallies have been forced to help the Treasurer of
the Navy at this great pinch. Then to talk of newes: that he thinks the
want of money hath undone the King, for the Parliament will never give the
King more money without calling all people to account, nor, as he
believes, will ever make war again, but they will manage it themselves:
unless, which I proposed, he would visibly become a severer inspector into
his own business and accounts, and that would gain upon the Parliament
yet: which he confesses and confirms as the only lift to set him upon his
legs, but says that it is not in his nature ever to do. He says that he
believes but four men (such as he could name) would do the business of
both offices, his and ours, and if ever the war were to be again it should
be so, he believes. He told me to my face that I was a very good clerk,
and did understand the business and do it very well, and that he would
never desire a better. He do believe that the Parliament, if ever they
meet, will offer some alterations to the King, and will turn some of us
out, and I protest I think he is in the right that either they or the King
will be advised to some regulations, and therefore I ought to beware, as
it is easy for me to keep myself up if I will. He thinks that much of our
misfortune hath been for want of an active Lord Treasurer, and that such a
man as Sir W. Coventry would do the business thoroughly. This talk being
over, comes his boy and tells us [Sir] W. Coventry is come in, and so he
and I to him, and there told the difficulty of getting this money, and
they did play hard upon Sir G. Carteret as a man moped and stunned, not
knowing which way to turn himself. Sir W. Coventry cried that he was
disheartened, and I do think that there is much in it, but Sir J. Duncomb
do charge him with mighty neglect in the pursuing of his business, and
that he do not look after it himself, but leaves it to Fenn, so that I do
perceive that they are resolved to scheme at bringing the business into a
better way of execution, and I think it needs, that is the truth of it. So
I away to Sir G. Carterets lodgings about this money, and contrary to
expectation I find he hath prevailed with Legg on his own bond to lend him
L2000, which I am glad of, but, poor man, he little sees what observations
people do make upon his management, and he is not a man fit to be told
what one hears. Thence by water at 10 at night from Westminster Bridge,
having kissed little Frank, and so to the Old Swan, and walked home by
moonshine, and there to my chamber a while, and supper and to bed.

25th. Received a writ from the Exchequer this morning of distrain for
L70,000, which troubled me, though it be but, matter of form. To the
office, where sat all the morning. At noon my wife being to Unthankes
christening, I to Sir W. Battens to dinner, where merry, and the rather
because we are like to come to some good end in another of our prizes.
Thence by coach to my Lord Treasurers, and there being come too soon to
the New Exchange, but did nothing, and back again, and there found my Lord
Bruncker and T. Harvy, and walked in a room very merrily discoursing. By
and by comes my Lord Ashly and tells us my Lord Treasurer is ill and
cannot speak with us now. Thence away, Sir W. Pen and I and Mr. Lewes, who
come hither after us, and Mr. Gawden in the last mans coach. Set me down
by the Poultry, and I to Sir Robert Viners, and there had my account
stated and took it home to review. So home to the office, and there late
writing out something, having been a little at Sir W. Battens to talk,
and there vexed to see them give order for Hoggs further abroad, and so
home and to bed.

26th. Up, and by coach with Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Pen to White Hall,
and there saw the Duke of Albemarle, who is not well, and do grow crazy.
Thence I to St. Jamess, to meet Sir G. Carteret, and did, and Lord
Berkely, to get them (as we would have done the Duke of Albemarle) to the
meeting of the Lords of Appeale in the business of one of our prizes. With
them to the meeting of the Guinny Company, and there staid, and went with
Lord Berkely. While I was waiting for him in the Matted Gallery, a young
man was most finely working in Indian inke the great picture of the King
and Queen sitting,—[Charles I. and Henrietta Maria.]—by Van
Dyke; and did it very finely. Thence to Westminster Hall to hear our
cause, but [it] did not come before them to-day, so went down and walked
below in the Hall, and there met with Ned Pickering, who tells me the ill
newes of his nephew Gilbert, who is turned a very rogue, and then I took a
turn with Mr. Evelyn, with whom I walked two hours, till almost one of the
clock: talking of the badness of the Government, where nothing but
wickedness, and wicked men and women command the King: that it is not in
his nature to gainsay any thing that relates to his pleasures; that much
of it arises from the sickliness of our Ministers of State, who cannot be
about him as the idle companions are, and therefore he gives way to the
young rogues; and then, from the negligence of the Clergy, that a Bishop
shall never be seen about him, as the King of France hath always: that the
King would fain have some of the same gang to be Lord Treasurer, which
would be yet worse, for now some delays are put to the getting gifts of
the King, as that whore my Lady Byron,

[Eleanor, daughter of Robert Needham, Viscount Kilmurrey, and widow
of Peter Warburton, became in 1644 the second wife of John Byron,
first Lord Byron. Died 1663.—B.]

who had been, as he called it, the Kings seventeenth whore abroad, did
not leave him till she had got him to give her an order for L4000 worth of
plate to be made for her; but by delays, thanks be to God! she died before
she had it. He tells me mighty stories of the King of France, how great a
prince he is. He hath made a code to shorten the law; he hath put out all
the ancient commanders of castles that were become hereditary; he hath
made all the fryers subject to the bishops, which before were only subject
to Rome, and so were hardly the Kings subjects, and that none shall
become religieux but at such an age, which he thinks will in a few,
years ruin the Pope, and bring France into a patriarchate. He confirmed to
me the business of the want of paper at the Council-table the other day,
which I have observed; Wooly being to have found it, and did, being
called, tell the King to his face the reason of it; and Mr. Evelyn tells
me several of the menial servants of the Court lacking bread, that have
not received a farthing wages since the Kings coming in. He tells me the
King of France hath his mistresses, but laughs at the foolery of our King,
that makes his bastards princes,

[Louis made his own bastards dukes and princes, and legitimatized
them as much as he could, connecting them also by marriage with the
real blood-royal.—B.]

and loses his revenue upon them, and makes his mistresses his masters and
the King of France did never grant Lavalliere

[Louise Francoise de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere had four
children by Louis XIV., of whom only two survived-Marie Anne
Bourbon, called Mademoiselle de Blois, born in 1666, afterwards
married to the Prince de Conti, and the Comte de Vermandois, born in
1667. In that year (the very year in which Evelyn was giving this
account to Pepys), the Duchy of Vaujour and two baronies were
created in favour of La Valliere, and her daughter, who, in the deed
of creation, was legitimatized, and styled princess.—B.]

any thing to bestow on others, and gives a little subsistence, but no
more, to his bastards. He told me the whole story of Mrs. Stewarts going
away from Court, he knowing her well; and believes her, up to her leaving
the Court, to be as virtuous as any woman in the world: and told me, from
a Lord that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth, and a sober
man, that when the Duke of Richmond did make love to her, she did ask the
King, and he did the like also; and that the King did not deny it, and
[she] told this Lord that she was come to that pass as to resolve to have
married any gentleman of L1500 a-year that would have had her in honour;
for it was come to that pass, that she could not longer continue at Court
without prostituting herself to the King,

[Even at a much later time Mrs. Godolphin well resolved not to talk
foolishly to men, more especially THE KING,—be sure never to
talk to THE KING (Life, by Evelyn). These expressions speak
volumes as to Charless character.—B.]

whom she had so long kept off, though he had liberty more than any other
had, or he ought to have, as to dalliance.

[Evelyn evidently believed the Duchess of Richmond to be innocent;
and his testimony, coupled with her own declaration, ought to weigh
down all the scandal which Pepys reports from other sources.—B.]

She told this Lord that she had reflected upon the occasion she had given
the world to think her a bad woman, and that she had no way but to marry
and leave the Court, rather in this way of discontent than otherwise, that
the world might see that she sought not any thing but her honour; and that
she will never come to live at Court more than when she comes to town to
come to kiss the Queene her Mistresss hand: and hopes, though she hath
little reason to hope, she can please her Lord so as to reclaim him, that
they may yet live comfortably in the country on his estate. She told this
Lord that all the jewells she ever had given her at Court, or any other
presents, more than the Kings allowance of L700 per annum out of the
Privypurse for her clothes, were, at her first coming the King did give
her a necklace of pearl of about L1100 and afterwards, about seven months
since, when the King had hopes to have obtained some courtesy of her, the
King did give her some jewells, I have forgot what, and I think a pair of
pendants. The Duke of York, being once her Valentine, did give her a
jewell of about L800; and my Lord Mandeville, her Valentine this year, a
ring of about L300; and the King of France would have had her mother, who,
he says, is one of the most cunning women in the world, to have let her
stay in France, saying that he loved her not as a mistress, but as one
that he could marry as well as any lady in France; and that, if she might
stay, for the honour of his Court he would take care she should not
repent. But her mother, by command of the Queen-mother, thought rather to
bring her into England; and the King of France did give her a jewell: so
that Mr. Evelyn believes she may be worth in jewells about L6000, and that
that is all that she hath in the world: and a worthy woman; and in this
hath done as great an act of honour as ever was done by woman. That now
the Countesse Castlemayne do carry all before her: and among other
arguments to prove Mrs. Stewart to have been honest to the last, he says
that the Kings keeping in still with my Lady Castlemayne do show it; for
he never was known to keep two mistresses in his life, and would never
have kept to her had he prevailed any thing with Mrs. Stewart. She is gone
yesterday with her Lord to Cobham. He did tell me of the ridiculous humour
of our King and Knights of the Garter the other day, who, whereas
heretofore their robes were only to be worn during their ceremonies and
service, these, as proud of their coats, did wear them all day till night,
and then rode into the Parke with them on. Nay, and he tells me he did see
my Lord Oxford and the Duke of Monmouth in a hackney-coach with two
footmen in the Parke, with their robes on; which is a most scandalous
thing, so as all gravity may be said to be lost among us. By and by we
discoursed of Sir Thomas Clifford, whom I took for a very rich and learned
man, and of the great family of that name. He tells me he is only a man of
about seven-score pounds a-year, of little learning more than the law of a
justice of peace, which he knows well: a parsons son, got to be burgess
in a little borough in the West, and here fell into the acquaintance of my
Lord Arlington, whose creature he is, and never from him; a man of virtue,
and comely, and good parts enough; and hath come into his place with a
great grace, though with a great skip over the heads of a great many, as
Chichly and Duncum, and some Lords that did expect it. By the way, he
tells me, that of all the great men of England there is none that
endeavours more to raise those that he takes into favour than my Lord
Arlington; and that, on that score, he is much more to be made ones
patron than my Lord Chancellor, who never did, nor never will do, any
thing, but for money! After having this long discourse we parted, about
one of the clock, and so away by water home, calling upon Michell, whose
wife and girle are pretty well, and I home to dinner, and after dinner
with Sir W. Batten to White Hall, there to attend the Duke of York before
council, where we all met at his closet and did the little business we
had, and here he did tell us how the King of France is intent upon his
design against Flanders, and hath drawn up a remonstrance of the cause of
the war, and appointed the 20th of the next month for his rendezvous, and
himself to prepare for the campaign the 30th, so that this, we are in
hopes, will keep him in employment. Turenne is to be his general. Here was
Carcasses business unexpectedly moved by him, but what was done therein
appears in my account of his case in writing by itself. Certain newes of
the Dutch being abroad on our coast with twenty-four great ships. This
done Sir W. Batten and I back again to London, and in the way met my Lady
Newcastle going with her coaches and footmen all in velvet: herself, whom
I never saw before, as I have heard her often described, for all the
town-talk is now-a-days of her extravagancies, with her velvetcap, her
hair about her ears; many black patches, because of pimples about her
mouth; naked-necked, without any thing about it, and a black
just-au-corps. She seemed to me a very comely woman: but I hope to see
more of her on Mayday. My mind is mightily of late upon a coach. At home,
to the office, where late spending all the evening upon entering in long
hand our late passages with Carcasse for memory sake, and so home in great
pain in my back by the uneasiness of Sir W. Battens coach driving hard
this afternoon over the stones to prevent coming too late. So at night to
supper in great pain, and to bed, where lay in great pain, not able to
turn myself all night.

27th. Up with much pain, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon
home to dinner, W. Hewer with us. This noon I got in some coals at 23s.
per chaldron, a good hearing, I thank God-having not been put to buy a
coal all this dear time, that during this war poor people have been forced
to give 45s. and 50s., and L3. In the afternoon (my wife and people busy
these late days, and will be for some time, making of shirts and smocks)
to the office, where late, and then home, after letters, and so to supper
and to bed, with much pleasure of mind, after having dispatched business.
This afternoon I spent some time walking with Mr. Moore, in the garden,
among other things discoursing of my Lord Sandwichs family, which he
tells me is in a very bad condition, for want of money and management, my
Lords charging them with bills, and nobody, nor any thing provided to
answer them. He did discourse of his hopes of being supplied with L1900
against a present bill from me, but I took no notice of it, nor will do
it. It seems Mr. Sheply doubts his accounts are ill kept, and every thing
else in the family out of order, which I am grieved to hear of.

28th (Lords day). Lay long, my pain in my back being still great, though
not so great as it was. However, up and to church, where a lazy sermon,
and then home and to dinner, my wife and I alone and Barker. After dinner,
by water—the day being mighty pleasant, and the tide serving finely,
I up (reading in Boyles book of colours), as high as Barne Elmes, and
there took one turn alone, and then back to Putney Church, where I saw the
girls of the schools, few of which pretty; and there I come into a pew,
and met with little James Pierce, which I was much pleased at, the little
rogue being very glad to see me: his master, Reader to the Church. Here
was a good sermon and much company, but I sleepy, and a little out of
order, for my hat falling down through a hole underneath the pulpit,
which, however, after sermon, by a stick, and the helpe of the clerke, I
got up again, and then walked out of the church with the boy, and then
left him, promising him to get him a play another time. And so by water,
the tide being with me again, down to Deptford, and there I walked down
the Yard, Shish and Cox with me, and discoursed about cleaning of the wet
docke, and heard, which I had before, how, when the docke was made, a ship
of near 500 tons was there found; a ship supposed of Queene Elizabeths
time, and well wrought, with a great deal of stoneshot in her, of eighteen
inches diameter, which was shot then in use: and afterwards meeting with
Captain Perriman and Mr. Castle at Half-way Tree, they tell me of
stoneshot of thirty-six inches diameter, which they shot out of
mortarpieces. Thence walked to Half-way Tree, and there stopt and talk
with Mr. Castle and Captain Perriman, and so to Redriffe and took boat
again, and so home, and there to write down my Journall, and so to supper
and to read, and so to bed, mightily pleased with my reading of Boyles
book of colours to-day, only troubled that some part of it, indeed the
greatest part, I am not able to understand for want of study. My wife this
night troubled at my leaving her alone so much and keeping her within
doors, which indeed I do not well nor wisely in.

29th. Up, being visited very early by Creed newly come from
Hinchingbrooke, who went thither without my knowledge, and I believe only
to save his being taxed by the Poll Bill. I did give him no very good
countenance nor welcome, but took occasion to go forth and walked (he with
me) to St. Dunstans, and thence I to Sir W. Coventrys, where a good
while with him, and I think he pretty kind, but that the nature of our
present condition affords not matter for either of us to be pleased with
any thing. We discoursed of Carcasse, whose Lord, he tells me, do make
complaints that his clerk should be singled out, and my Lord Berkeley do
take his part. So he advises we would sum up all we have against him and
lay it before the Duke of York; he condemned my Lord Bruncker. Thence to
Sir G. Carteret, and there talked a little while about office business,
and thence by coach home, in several places paying my debts in order to my
evening my accounts this month, and thence by and by to White Hall again
to Sir G. Carteret to dinner, where very good company and discourse, and I
think it my part to keep in there now more than ordinary because of the
probability of my Lords coming soon home. Our Commissioners for the
treaty set out this morning betimes down the river. Here I hear that the
Duke of Cambridge, the Duke of Yorks son, is very sick; and my Lord
Treasurer very bad of the stone, and hath been so some days. After dinner
Sir G. Carteret and I alone in his closet an hour or more talking of my
Lord Sandwichs coming home, which, the peace being likely to be made
here, he expects, both for my Lords sake and his own (whose interest he
wants) it will be best for him to be at home, where he will be well
received by the King; he is sure of his service well accepted, though the
business of Spain do fall by this peace. He tells me my Lord Arlington
hath done like a gentleman by him in all things. He says, if my Lord
[Sandwich] were here, he were the fittest man to be Lord Treasurer of any
man in England; and he thinks it might be compassed; for he confesses that
the Kings matters do suffer through the inability of this man, who is
likely to die, and he will propound him to the King. It will remove him
from his place at sea, and the King will have a good place to bestow. He
says to me, that he could wish, when my Lord comes, that he would think
fit to forbear playing, as a thing below him, and which will lessen him,
as it do my Lord St. Albans, in the Kings esteem: and as a great secret
tells me that he hath made a match for my Lord Hinchingbroke to a daughter
of my Lord Burlingtons, where there is a great alliance, L10,000 portion;
a civil family, and relation to my Lord Chancellor, whose son hath married
one of the daughters; and that my Lord Chancellor do take it with very
great kindness, so that he do hold himself obliged by it. My Lord Sandwich
hath referred it to my Lord Crew, Sir G. Carteret, and Mr. Montagu, to end
it. My Lord Hinchingbroke and the lady know nothing yet of it. It will, I
think, be very happy. Very glad of this discourse, I away mightily pleased
with the confidence I have in this family, and so away, took up my wife,
who was at her mothers, and so home, where I settled to my chamber about
my accounts, both Tangier and private, and up at it till twelve at night,
with good success, when news is brought me that there is a great fire in
Southwarke: so we up to the leads, and then I and the boy down to the end
of our, lane, and there saw it, it seeming pretty great, but nothing to
the fire of London, that it made me think little of it. We could at that
distance see an engine play—that is, the water go out, it being
moonlight. By and by, it begun to slacken, and then I home and to bed.

30th. Up, and Mr. Madden come to speak with me, whom my people not knowing
have made to wait long without doors, which vexed me. Then comes Sir John
Winter to discourse with me about the forest of Deane, and then about my
Lord Treasurer, and asking me whether, as he had heard, I had not been cut
for the stone, I took him to my closet, and there shewed it to him, of
which he took the dimensions and had some discourse of it, and I believe
will shew my Lord Treasurer it. Thence to the office, where we sat all the
morning, but little to do, and then to the Change, where for certain I
hear, and the News book declares, a peace between France and Portugal. Met
here with Mr. Pierce, and he tells me the Duke of Cambridge is very ill
and full of spots about his body, that Dr. Frazier knows not what to think
of it. Then home and to dinner, and then to the office, where all the
afternoon; we met about Sir W. Warrens business and accounts, wherein I
do rather oppose than forward him, but not in declared terms, for I will
not be at, enmity with him, but I will not have him find any friendship so
good as mine. By and by rose and by water to White Hall, and then called
my wife at Unthankes. So home and to my chamber, to my accounts, and
finished them to my hearts wishes and admiration, they being grown very
intricate, being let alone for two months, but I brought them together all
naturally, within a few shillings, but to my sorrow the Poll money I paid
this month and mourning have made me L80 a worse man than at my last
balance, so that I am worth now but L6700, which is yet an infinite mercy
to me, for which God make me thankful. So late to supper, with a glad
heart for the evening of my accounts so well, and so to bed.