Samuel Pepys diary June 1668

JUNE 1668

June 1st. Up and with Sir J. Minnes to Westminster, and in the Hall there
I met with Harris and Rolt, and carried them to the Rhenish wine-house,
where I have not been in a morning—nor any tavern, I think, these
seven years and more. Here I did get the words of a song of Harris that I
wanted. Here also Mr. Young and Whistler by chance met us, and drank with
us. Thence home, and to prepare business against the afternoon, and did
walk an hour in the garden with Sir W. Warren, who do tell me of the great
difficulty he is under in the business of his accounts with the
Commissioners of Parliament, and I fear some inconveniences and troubles
may be occasioned thereby to me. So to dinner, and then with Sir J. Minnes
to White Hall, and there attended the Lords of the Treasury and also a
committee of Council with the Duke of York about the charge of this years
fleete, and thence I to Westminster and to Mrs. Martins, and did hazer
what je would con her, and did once toker la thigh de su landlady, and
thence all alone to Fox Hall, and walked and saw young Newport, and two
more rogues of the town, seize on two ladies, who walked with them an hour
with their masks on; perhaps civil ladies; and there I left them, and so
home, and thence to Mr. Millss, where I never was before, and here find,
whom I indeed saw go in, and that did make me go thither, Mrs. Hallworthy
and Mrs. Andrews, and here supped, and, extraordinary merry till one in
the morning, Mr. Andrews coming to us: and mightily pleased with this
nights company and mirth I home to bed. Mrs. Turner, too, was with us.

2nd. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to dinner,
and there dined with me, besides my own people, W. Batelier and Mercer,
and we very merry. After dinner, they gone, only Mercer and I to sing a
while, and then parted, and I out and took a coach, and called Mercer at
their back-door, and she brought with her Mrs. Knightly, a little pretty
sober girl, and I carried them to Old Ford, a town by Bow, where I never
was before, and there walked in the fields very pleasant, and sang: and so
back again, and stopped and drank at the Gun, at Mile End, and so to the
Old Exchange door, and did buy them a pound of cherries, cost me 2s., and
so set them down again; and I to my little mercers Finch, that lives now
in the Minories, where I have left my cloak, and did here baiser su moher,
a belle femme, and there took my cloak which I had left there, and so by
water, it being now about nine oclock, down to Deptford, where I have not
been many a day, and there it being dark I did by agreement aller a la
house de Bagwell, and there after a little playing and baisando we did go
up in the dark a su camera… and to my boat again, and against the tide
home. Got there by twelve oclock, taking into my boat, for company, a man
that desired a passage—a certain western bargeman, with whom I had
good sport, talking of the old woman of Woolwich, and telling him the
whole story.

3rd. Up, and to the office, where busy till g oclock, and then to White
Hall, to the Council-chamber, where I did present the Duke of York with an
account of the charge of the present fleete, to his satisfaction; and this
being done, did ask his leave for my going out of town five or six days,
which he did give me, saying, that my diligence in the Kings business was
such, that I ought not to be denied when my own business called me any
whither. Thence with Sir D. Gawden to Westminster, where I did take a turn
or two, and met Roger Pepys, who is mighty earnest for me to stay from
going into the country till he goes, and to bring my people thither for
some time: but I cannot, but will find another time this summer for it.
Thence with him home, and there to the office till noon, and then with
Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir G. Carteret, upon whose accounts
they have been this day to the Three Tuns to dinner, and thence back again
home, and after doing a little business I by coach to the Kings house,
and there saw good, part of The Scornfull Lady, and that done, would
have takn out Knepp, but she was engaged, and so to my Lord Crews to
visit him; from whom I learn nothing but that there hath been some
controversy at the Council-table, about my Lord Sandwichs signing, where
some would not have had him, in the treaty with Portugall; but all, I
think, is over in it. Thence by coach to Westminster to the Hall, and
thence to the Park, where much good company, and many fine ladies; and in
so handsome a hackney I was, that I believe Sir W. Coventry and others,
who looked on me, did take me to be in one of my own, which I was a little
troubled for. So to the lodge, and drank a cup of new milk, and so home,
and there to Mrs. Turners, and sat and talked with her, and then home to
bed, having laid my business with W. Hewer to go out of town Friday next,
with hopes of a great deal of pleasure.

4th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to
dinner, where Mr. Clerke, the solicitor, dined with me and my clerks.
After dinner I carried and set him down at the Temple, he observing to me
how St. Sepulchres church steeple is repaired already a good deal, and
the Fleet Bridge is contracted for by the City to begin to be built this
summer, which do please me mightily. I to White Hall, and walked through
the Park for a little ayre; and so back to the Council-chamber, to the
Committee of the Navy, about the business of fitting the present fleete,
suitable to the money given, which, as the King orders it, and by what
appears, will be very little; and so as I perceive the Duke of York will
have nothing to command, nor can intend to go abroad. But it is pretty to
see how careful these great men are to do every thing so as they may
answer it to the Parliament, thinking themselves safe in nothing but where
the judges, with whom they often advise, do say the matter is doubtful;
and so they take upon themselves then to be the chief persons to interpret
what is doubtful. Thence home, and all the evening to set matters in order
against my going to Brampton to-morrow, being resolved upon my journey,
and having the Duke of Yorks leave again to-day; though I do plainly see
that I can very ill be spared now, there being much business, especially
about this, which I have attended the Council about, and I the man that am
alone consulted with; and, besides, my Lord Brouncker is at this time ill,
and Sir W. Pen. So things being put in order at the Office, I home to do
the like there; and so to bed.

5th (Friday).

     [The rough notes for the journal from this time to the 17th of June
     are contained on five leaves, inserted in the book; and after them
     follow several pages left blank for the fair copy which was never
     made.]

At Barnet, for milk, 6d. On the highway, to menders of the highway, 6d.
Dinner at Stevenage, 5s. 6d.

6th (Saturday). Spent at Huntingdon with Bowles, and Appleyard, and
Shepley, 2s.

7th (Sunday). My father, for money lent, and horse-hire L1 11s.

8th (Monday). Fathers servants (father having in the garden told me bad
stories of my wifes ill words), 14s.; one that helped at the horses, 2s.;
menders of the highway, 2s. Pleasant country to Bedford, where, while they
stay, I rode through the town; and a good country-town; and there,
drinking, 1s. We on to Newport; and there light, and I and W. Hewer to
the Church, and there give the boy 1s. So to Buckingham, a good old town.
Here I to see the Church, which very good, and the leads, and a school in
it: did give the sextons boy 1s. A fair bridge here, with many arches:
vexed at my peoples making me lose so much time; reckoning, 13s. 4d.
Mighty pleased with the pleasure of the ground all the day. At night to
Newport Pagnell; and there a good pleasant country-town, but few people in
it. A very fair—and like a Cathedral—Church; and I saw the
leads, and a vault that goes far under ground, and here lay with Betty
Turners sparrow: the town, and so most of this country, well watered. Lay
here well, and rose next day by four oclock: few people in the town: and
so away. Reckoning for supper, 19s. 6d.; poor, 6d. Mischance to the coach,
but no time lost.

9th (Tuesday). When come to Oxford, a very sweet place: paid our guide, L1
2s. 6d.; barber, 2s. 6d.; book, Stonage, 4s.

     [This must have been either Inigo Joness The most notable
     Antiquity of Great Britain vulgarly called Stonehenge, printed in
     1655, or Chorea Gigantum, or the most famous Antiquity of Great
     Britain, vulgarly called Stones Heng, standing on Salisbury Plain,
     restord to the Danes, by Walter Charleton, M.D., and published in
     1663.]

To dinner; and then out with my wife and people, and landlord: and to him
that showed us the schools and library, 10s.; to him that showed us All
Souls College, and Chichlys picture, 5s. So to see Christ Church with my
wife, I seeing several others very fine alone, with W. Hewer, before
dinner, and did give the boy that went with me 1s. Strawberries, 1s. 2d.
Dinner and servants, L1 0s. 6d. After come home from the schools, I out
with the landlord to Brazen-nose College;—to the butteries, and in
the cellar find the hand of the Child of Hales,… long. Butler, 2s.
Thence with coach and people to Physic-garden, 1s. So to Friar Bacons
study: I up and saw it, and give the man 1s. Bottle of sack for landlord,
2s. Oxford mighty fine place; and well seated, and cheap entertainment. At
night come to Abingdon, where had been a fair of custard; and met many
people and scholars going home; and there did get some pretty good musick,
and sang and danced till supper: 5s.

10th (Wednesday). Up, and walked to the Hospitall:—[Christs
Hospital]—very large and fine; and pictures of founders, and the
History of the Hospitall; and is said to be worth; L700 per annum; and
that Mr. Foly was here lately to see how their lands were settled; and
here, in old English, the story of the occasion of it, and a rebus at the
bottom. So did give the poor, which they would not take but in their box,
2s. 6d. So to the inn, and paid the reckoning and what not, 13s. So forth
towards Hungerford, led this good way by our landlord, one Heart, an old
but very civil and well-spoken man, more than I ever heard, of his
quality. He gone, we forward; and I vexed at my peoples not minding the
way. So come to Hungerford, where very good trouts, eels, and crayfish.
Dinner: a mean town. At dinner there, 12s. Thence set out with a guide,
who saw us to Newmarket-heath, and then left us, 3s. 6d. So all over the
Plain by the sight of the steeple, the Plain high and low, to Salisbury,
by night; but before I come to the town, I saw a great fortification, and
there light, and to it and in it; and find it prodigious, so as to
frighten me to be in it all alone at that time of night, it being dark. I
understand, since, it to be that, that is called Old Sarum. Come to the
George Inne, where lay in a silk bed; and very good diet. To supper; then
to bed.

11th (Thursday). Up, and W. Hewer and I up and down the town, and find it
a very brave place. The river goes through every street; and a most
capacious market-place. The city great, I think greater than Hereford. But
the Minster most admirable; as big, I think, and handsomer than
Westminster: and a most large Close about it, and houses for the Officers
thereof, and a fine palace for the Bishop. So to my lodging back, and took
out my wife and people to shew them the town and Church; but they being at
prayers, we could not be shown the Quire. A very good organ; and I looked
in, and saw the Bishop, my friend Dr. Ward. Thence to the inne; and there
not being able to hire coach-horses, and not willing to use our own, we
got saddle-horses, very dear. Boy that went to look for them, 6d. So the
three women behind W. Hewer, Murford, and our guide, and I single to
Stonage; over the Plain and some great hills, even to fright us. Come
thither, and find them as prodigious as any tales I ever heard of them,
and worth going this journey to see. God knows what their use was! they
are hard to tell, but yet maybe told. Give the shepherd-woman, for leading
our horses, 4d. So back by Wilton, my Lord Pembrokes house, which we
could not see, he being just coming to town; but the situation I do not
like, nor the house promise much, it being in a low but rich valley. So
back home; and there being light, we to the Church, and there find them
at prayers again, so could not see the Quire; but I sent the women home,
and I did go in, and saw very many fine tombs, and among the rest some
very ancient, of the Montagus.

     [The Montacutes, from whom Lord Sandwichs family claimed descent:
     —B.]

So home to dinner; and, that being done, paid the reckoning, which was so
exorbitant; and particular in rate of my horses, and 7s. 6d. for bread and
beer, that I was mad, and resolve to trouble the master about it, and get
something for the poor; and come away in that humour: L2 5s. 6d. Servants,
1s. 6d.; poor, 1s.; guide to the Stones, 2s.; poor woman in the street,
1s.; ribbands, 9d.; washwoman, 1s.; sempstress for W. Hewer, 3s.; lent W.
Hewer, 3s. Thence about six oclock, and with a guide went over the smooth
Plain indeed till night; and then by a happy mistake, and that looked like
an adventure, we were carried out of our way to a town where we would lye,
since we could not go so far as we would. And there with great difficulty
come about ten at night to a little inn, where we were fain to go into a
room where a pedlar was in bed, and made him rise; and there wife and I
lay, and in a truckle-bed Betty Turner and Willett. But good beds, and the
master of the house a sober, understanding man, and I had good discourse
with him about this countrys matters, as wool, and corne, and other
things. And he also merry, and made us mighty merry at supper, about
manning the new ship, at Bristol, with none but men whose wives do master
them; and it seems it is become in reproach to some men of estate that are
such hereabouts, that this is become common talk. By and by to bed, glad
of this mistake, because, it seems, had we gone on as we intended, we
could not have passed with our coach, and must have lain on the Plain all
night. This day from Salisbury I wrote by the post my excuse for not
coming home, which I hope will do, for I am resolved to see the Bath, and,
it may be, Bristol.

12th (Friday). Up, finding our beds good, but lousy; which made us merry.
We set out, the reckoning and servants coming to 9s. 6d.; my guide
thither, 2s.; coachman, advanced, 10s. So rode a very good way, led to my
great content by our landlord to Philips-Norton, with great pleasure,
being now come into Somersetshire; where my wife and Deb. mightily joyed
thereat,—[They were natives of that county.-B.]—I commending
the country, as indeed it deserves. And the first town we came to was
Brekington, where, we stopping for something for the horses, we called two
or three little boys to us, and pleased ourselves with their manner of
speech, and did make one of them kiss Deb., and another say the Lords
Prayer (hallowed be thy kingdom come). At Philips-Norton I walked to the
Church, and there saw a very ancient tomb of some Knight Templar, I think;
and here saw the tombstone whereon there were only two heads cut, which,
the story goes, and credibly, were two sisters, called the Fair Maids of
Foscott, that had two bodies upward and one belly, and there lie buried.
Here is also a very fine ring of six bells, and they mighty tuneable.
Having dined very well, 10s., we come before night to the Bath; where I
presently stepped out with my landlord, and saw the baths, with people in
them. They are not so large as I expected, but yet pleasant; and the town
most of stone, and clean, though the streets generally narrow. I home, and
being weary, went to bed without supper; the rest supping.

13th (Saturday). Up at four oclock, being by appointment called up to the
Cross Bath, where we were carried one after one another, myself, and wife,
and Betty Turner, Willet, and W. Hewer. And by and by, though we designed
to have done before company come, much company come; very fine ladies; and
the manner pretty enough, only methinks it cannot be clean to go so many
bodies together in the same water. Good conversation among them that are
acquainted here, and stay together. Strange to see how hot the water is;
and in some places, though this is the most temperate bath, the springs so
hot as the feet not able to endure. But strange to see, when women and men
herein, that live all the season in these waters, that cannot but be
parboiled, and look like the creatures of the bath! Carried away, wrapped
in a sheet, and in a chair, home; and there one after another thus
carried, I staying above two hours in the water, home to bed, sweating for
an hour; and by and by, comes musick to play to me, extraordinary good as
ever I heard at London almost, or anywhere: 5s. Up, to go to Bristol,
about eleven oclock, and paying my landlord that was our guide from
Chiltern, 10s., and the serjeant of the bath, 10s., and the man that
carried us in chairs, 3s. 6d. Set out towards Bristoll, and come thither
(in a coach hired to spare our own horses); the way bad, but country good,
about two oclock, where set down at the Horseshoe, and there, being
trimmed by a very handsome fellow, 2s., walked with my wife and people
through the city, which is in every respect another London, that one can
hardly know it, to stand in the country, no more than that. No carts, it
standing generally on vaults, only dog-carts.

     [They draw all their heavy goods here on sleds, or sledges, which
     they call gee hoes, without wheels, which kills a multitude of
     horses.  Another writer says, They suffer no carts to be used in
     the city, lest, as some say, the shake occasioned by them on the
     pavement should affect the Bristol milk (the sherry) in the vaults,
     which is certainly had here in the greatest perfection.  An order
     of Common Council occurs in 1651 to prohibit the use of carts and
     waggons-only suffering drays.  Camden in giving our city credit for
     its cleanliness in forming goutes, says they use sledges here
     instead of carts, lest they destroy the arches beneath which are the
     goutes.—Chilcotts New Guide to Bristol, &c.,]

So to the Three..Crowns Tavern I was directed; but, when I come in, the
master told me that he had newly given over the selling of wine; it seems,
grown rich; and so went to the Sun; and there Deb. going with W. Hewer and
Betty Turner to see her uncle [Butts], and leaving my wife with the
mistress of the house, I to see the quay, which is a most large and noble
Vlace; and to see the new ship building by Bally, neither he nor Furzer
being in town. It will be a fine ship. Spoke with the foreman, and did
give the boys that kept the cabin 2s. Walked back to the Sun, where I find
Deb. come back, and with her, her uncle, a sober merchant, very good
company, and so like one of our sober, wealthy, London merchants, as
pleased me mightily. Here we dined, and much good talk with him, 7s. 6d.:
a messenger to Sir John Knight, who was not at home, 6d. Then walked with
him [Butts] and my wife and company round the quay, and to the ship; and
he shewed me the Custom-house, and made me understand many things of the
place, and led us through Marsh Street, where our girl was born. But,
Lord! the joy that was among the old poor people of the place, to see Mrs.
Willets daughter, it seems her mother being a brave woman and mightily
beloved! And so brought us a back way by surprize to his house, where a
substantial good house, and well furnished; and did give us good
entertainment of strawberries, a whole venison-pasty, cold, and plenty of
brave wine, and above all Bristoll milk,

     [A sort of rum punch (milk punch), which, and turtle, were products
     of the trade of Bristol with the West Indies.  So Byron says in the
     first edition of his English Bards and Scotch Reviewers

              Too much in turtle Bristols sons delight,
               Too much oer bowls of rack prolong the night.

     These lines will not be found in the modern editions; but the
     following are substituted:

              Four turtle feeders verse must needs he flat,
               Though Bristol bloat him with the verdant fat.

     Lord Macaulay says of the collations with which the sugar-refiners
     of   Bristol regaled their visitors: The repast was dressed in the
     furnace, And was accompanied by a rich brewage made of the best
     Spanish wine, and celebrated over the whole kingdom as Bristol milk
      (Hist. of England, vol. i., p. 335)—B.]

where comes in another poor woman, who, hearing that Deb. was here, did
come running hither, and with her eyes so lull of tears, and heart so full
of joy, that she could not speak when she come in, that it made me weep
too: I protest that I was not able to speak to her, which I would have
done, to have diverted her tears. His wife a good woman, and so sober and
substantiall as I was never more pleased anywhere. Servant-maid, 2s. So
thence took leave, and he with us through the city, where in walking I
find the city pay him great respect, and he the like to the meanest, which
pleased me mightily. He shewed us the place where the merchants meet here,
and a fine Cross yet standing, like Cheapside. And so to the Horseshoe,
where paid the reckoning, 2s. 6d. We back, and by moonshine to the Bath
again, about ten-oclock: bad way; and giving the coachman 1s., went all
of us to bed.

14th (Sunday). Up, and walked up and down the town, and saw a pretty good
market-place, and many good streets, and very fair stone-houses. And so to
the great Church, and there saw Bishop Montagus tomb;

     [James Montagu, Bishop of Bath and Wells in 1608, and of Winchester
     in 1616—died 1618.  He was uncle to the Earl of Sandwich, whose
     mother was Pepyss aunt.  Hence Pepyss curiosity respecting the
     tomb.—B.]

and, when placed, did there see many brave people come, and, among others,
two men brought in, in litters, and set down in the chancel to hear: but I
did not know one face. Here a good organ; but a vain, pragmatical fellow
preached a ridiculous, affected sermon, that made me angry, and some
gentlemen that sat next me, and sang well. So home, walking round the
walls of the City, which are good, and the battlements all whole. The
sexton of the church is. So home to dinner, and after dinner comes Mr.
Butts again to see me, and he and I to church, where the same idle fellow
preached; and I slept most of the sermon. Thence home, and took my wife
out and the girls, and come to this church again, to see it, and look over
the monuments, where, among others, Dr. Venner and Pelting, and a lady of
Sir W. Walters; he lying with his face broken. So to the fields a little
and walked, and then home and had my head looked [at], and so to supper,
and then comes my landlord to me, a sober understanding man, and did give
me a good account of the antiquity of this town and Wells; and of two
Heads, on two pillars, in Wells church. But he a Catholick. So he gone, I
to bed.

15th (Monday). Up, and with Mr. Butts to look into the baths, and find the
King and Queens full of a mixed sort, of good and bad, and the Cross only
almost for the gentry. So home and did the like with my wife, and did pay
my guides, two women, 5s.; one man, 2s. 6d.; poor, 6d.; woman to lay my
foot-cloth, 1s. So to our inne, and there eat and paid reckoning, L1 8s.
6d.; servants, 3s.; poor, 1s.; lent the coach man, 10s. Before I took
coach, I went to make a boy dive in the Kings bath, 1s. I paid also for
my coach and a horse to Bristol, L1 1s. 6d. Took coach, and away, without
any of the company of the other stage-coaches, that go out of this town
to-day; and rode all day with some trouble, for fear of being out of our
way, over the Downes, where the life of the shepherds is, in fair weather
only, pretty. In the afternoon come to Abebury, where, seeing great stones
like those of Stonage standing up, I stopped, and took a countryman of
that town, and he carried me and shewed me a place trenched in, like Old
Sarum almost, with great stones pitched in it, some bigger than those at
Stonage in figure, to my great admiration: and he told me that most people
of learning, coming by, do come and view them, and that the King did so:
and that the Mount cast hard by is called Selbury, from one King Seall
buried there, as tradition says. I did give this man 1s. So took coach
again, seeing one place with great high stones pitched round, which, I
believe, was once some particular building, in some measure like that of
Stonage. But, about a mile off, it was prodigious to see how full the
Downes are of great stones; and all along the vallies, stones of
considerable bigness, most of them growing certainly out of the ground so
thick as to cover the ground, which makes me think the less of the wonder
of Stonage, for hence they might undoubtedly supply themselves with
stones, as well as those at Abebury. In my way did give to the poor and
menders of the highway 3s. Before night, come to Marlborough, and lay at
the Hart; a good house, and a pretty fair town for a street or two; and
what is most singular is, their houses on one side having their
pent-houses supported with pillars, which makes it a good walk. My wife
pleased with all, this evening reading of Mustapha to me till supper,
and then to supper, and had musique whose innocence pleased me, and I did
give them 3s. So to bed, and lay well all night, and long, so as all the
five coaches that come this day from Bath, as well as we, were gone out of
the town before six.

16th (Tuesday). So paying the reckoning, 14s. 4d., and servants, 2s., poor
1s., set out; and overtook one coach and kept a while company with it,
till one of our horses losing a shoe, we stopped and drank and spent 1s.
So on, and passing through a good part of this county of Wiltshire, saw a
good house of Alexander Pophams, and another of my Lord Cravens, I think
in Barkeshire. Come to Newbery, and there dined, which cost me, and
musick, which a song of the old courtier of Queen Elizabeths, and how he
was changed upon the coming in of the King, did please me mightily, and I
did cause W. Hewer to write it out, 3s. 6d. Then comes the reckoning,
forced to change gold, 8s. 7d.; servants and poor, 1s. 6d. So out, and
lost our way, which made me vexed, but come into it again; and in the
evening betimes come to Reading, and there heard my wife read more of
Mustapha, and then to supper, and then I to walk about the town, which
is a very great one, I think bigger than Salsbury: a river runs through
it, in seven branches, and unite in one, in one part of the town, and runs
into the Thames half-a-mile off one odd sign of the Broad Face. W. Hewer
troubled with the headake we had none of his company last night, nor all
this day nor night to talk. Then to my inn, and so to bed.

17th (Wednesday). Rose, and paying the reckoning, 12s. 6d.; servants and
poor, 2s. 6d.; musick, the worst we have had, coming to our chamber-door,
but calling us by wrong names, we lay; so set out with one coach in
company, and through Maydenhead, which I never saw before, to Colebrooke
by noon; the way mighty good; and there dined, and fitted ourselves a
little to go through London, anon. Somewhat out of humour all day,
reflecting on my wifes neglect of things, and impertinent humour got by
this liberty of being from me, which she is never to be trusted with; for
she is a fool. Thence pleasant way to London, before night, and find all
very well, to great content; and there to talk with my wife, and saw Sir
W. Pen, who is well again. I hear of the ill news by the great fire at
Barbados. By and by home, and there with my people to supper, all in
pretty good humour, though I find my wife hath something in her gizzard,
that only waits an opportunity of being provoked to bring up; but I will
not, for my content-sake, give it. So I to bed, glad to find all so well
here, and slept well.

          [The rough notes end here.]

18th. Up betimes and to the office, there to set my papers in order and
books, my office having been new whited and windows made clean, and so to
sit, where all the morning, and did receive a hint or two from my Lord
Anglesey, as if he thought much of my taking the ayre as I have done; but
I care not a turd; but whatever the matter is, I think he hath some
ill-will to me, or at least an opinion that I am more the servant of the
Board than I am. At noon home to dinner, where my wife still in a
melancholy, fusty humour, and crying, and do not tell me plainly what it
is; but I by little words find that she hath heard of my going to plays,
and carrying people abroad every day, in her absence; and that I cannot
help but the storm will break out, I think, in a little time. After dinner
carried her by coach to St. Jamess, where she sat in the coach till I to
my Lady Peterboroughs, who tells me, among other things, her Lords good
words to the Duke of York lately, about my Lord Sandwich, and that the
Duke of York is kind to my Lord Sandwich, which I am glad to hear: my
business here was about her Lords pension from Tangier. Here met with
Povy, who tells me how hard Creed is upon him, though he did give him,
about six months since, I think he said, fifty pieces in gold; and one
thing there is in his accounts that I fear may touch me, but I shall help
it, I hope. So my wife not speaking a word, going nor coming, nor willing
to go to a play, though a new one, I to the Office, and did much business.
At night home, where supped Mr. Turner and his wife, and Betty and Mercer
and Pelling, as merry as the ill, melancholy humour that my wife was in,
would let us, which vexed me; but I took no notice of it, thinking that
will be the best way, and let it wear away itself. After supper, parted,
and to bed; and my wife troubled all night, and about one oclock goes out
of the bed to the girls bed, which did trouble me, she crying and
sobbing, without telling the cause. By and by she comes back to me, and
still crying; I then rose, and would have sat up all night, but she would
have me come to bed again; and being pretty well pacified, we to sleep.

19th. When between two and three in the morning we were waked with my
maids crying out, Fire, fire, in Markelane! So I rose and looked out,
and it was dreadful; and strange apprehensions in me, and us all, of being
presently burnt. So we all rose; and my care presently was to secure my
gold, and plate, and papers, and could quickly have done it, but I went
forth to see where it was; and the whole town was presently in the
streets; and I found it in a new-built house that stood alone in
Minchin-lane, over against the Cloth-workers-hall, which burned
furiously: the house not yet quite finished; and the benefit of brick was
well seen, for it burnt all inward, and fell down within itself; so no
fear of doing more hurt. So homeward, and stopped at Mr. Millss, where he
and she at the door, and Mrs. Turner, and Betty, and Mrs. Hollworthy, and
there I stayed and talked, and up to the church leads, and saw the fire,
which spent itself, till all fear over. I home, and there we to bed again,
and slept pretty well, and about nine rose, and then my wife fell into her
blubbering again, and at length had a request to make to me, which was,
that she might go into France, and live there, out of trouble; and then
all come out, that I loved pleasure and denied her any, and a deal of do;
and I find that there have been great fallings out between my father and
her, whom, for ever hereafter, I must keep asunder, for they cannot
possibly agree. And I said nothing, but, with very mild words and few,
suffered her humour to spend, till we begun to be very quiet, and I think
all will be over, and friends, and so I to the office, where all the
morning doing business. Yesterday I heard how my Lord Ashly is like to
die, having some imposthume in his breast, that he hath been fain to be
cut into the body.

     [Such an operation was performed in this year, after a consultation
     of medical men, and chiefly by Lockes advice, and the wound was
     afterwards always kept open, a silver pipe being inserted.  This
     saved Lord Ashleys life, and gave him health—Christies Life of
     the first Earl of Shaftesbury, vol. ii., p. 34.  Tapski was a name
     given to Shaftesbury in derision, and vile defamers described the
     abscess, which had originated in a carriage accident in Holland, as
     the result of extreme dissipation.  Lines by Duke, a friend and
     imitator of Dryden:

              The working ferment of his active mind,
               In his weak bodys cask with pain confined,
               Would burst the rotten vessel where tis pent,
               But that tis tapt to give the treason vent.]

At noon home to dinner, and thence by coach to White Hall, where we
attended the Duke of York in his closet, upon our usual business. And
thence out, and did see many of the Knights of the Garter, with the King
and Duke of York, going into the Privychamber, to elect the Elector of
Saxony into that Order, who, I did hear the Duke of York say, was a good
drinker: I know not upon what score this compliment is done him. Thence
with W. Pen, who is in great pain of the gowte, by coach round by Holborne
home, he being at every kennel full of pain. Thence home, and by and by
comes my wife and Deb. home, have been at the Kings playhouse to-day,
thinking to spy me there; and saw the new play, Evening Love, of
Drydens, which, though the world commends, she likes not. So to supper
and talk, and all in good humour, and then to bed, where I slept not well,
from my apprehensions of some trouble about some business of Mr. Povys he
told me of the other day.

20th. Up, and talked with my wife all in good humour, and so to the
office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, and so she and I
alone to the Kings house, and there I saw this new play my wife saw
yesterday, and do not like it, it being very smutty, and nothing so good
as The Maiden Queen, or The Indian Emperour, of his making, that I was
troubled at it; and my wife tells me wholly (which he confesses a little
in the epilogue) taken out of the Illustre Bassa. So she to Unthankes
and I to Mr. Povy, and there settled some business; and here talked of
things, and he thinks there will be great revolutions, and that Creed will
be a great man, though a rogue, he being a man of the old strain, which
will now be up again. So I took coach, and set Povy down at Charing Cross,
and took my wife up, and calling at the New Exchange at Smiths shop, and
kissed her pretty hand, and so we home, and there able to do nothing by
candlelight, my eyes being now constantly so bad that I must take present
advice or be blind. So to supper, grieved for my eyes, and to bed.

21st (Lords day). Up, and to church, and home and dined with my wife and
Deb. alone, but merry and in good humour, which is, when all is done, the
greatest felicity of all, and after dinner she to read in the Illustre
Bassa the plot of yesterdays play, which is most exactly the same, and
so to church I alone, and thence to see Sir W. Pen, who is ill again, and
then home, and there get my wife to read to me till supper, and then to
bed.

22nd. Up, and with Balty to St. Jamess, and there presented him to Mr.
Wren about his being Muster-Master this year, which will be done. So up to
wait on the Duke of York, and thence, with W. Coventry, walked to White
Hall good discourse about the Navy, where want of money undoes us. Thence
to the Harp and Ball I to drink, and so to the Coffee-house in Covent
Garden; but met with nobody but Sir Philip Howard, who shamed me before
the whole house there, in commendation of my speech in Parliament, and
thence I away home to dinner alone, my wife being at her tailors, and
after dinner comes Creed, whom I hate, to speak with me, and before him
comes Mrs. Daniel about business…. She gone, Creed and I to the Kings
playhouse, and saw an act or two of the new play [Evenings Love] again,
but like it not. Calling this day at Herringmans, he tells me Dryden do
himself call it but a fifth-rate play. Thence with him to my Lord
Brounckers, where a Council of the Royall Society; and there heard Mr.
Harry Howards noble offers about ground for our College, and his
intentions of building his own house there most nobly. My business was to
meet Mr. Boyle, which I did, and discoursed about my eyes; and he did give
me the best advice he could, but refers me to one Turberville, of
Salsbury, lately come to town, which I will go to.

     [Daubigny Turberville, of Oriel College; created M.D. at
     Oxford,1660.  He was a physician of some eminence, and, dying at
     Salisbury on the 21st April, 1696, aged eighty-five, he was buried
     in the cathedral, where his monument remains.  Cassan, in his Lives
     of the Bishops of Sarum, part iii., p. 103, has reprinted an
     interesting account of Turberville, from the Memoir of Bishop Seth
     Ward, published in 1697, by Dr. Walter Pope.  Turberville was born
     at Wayford, co. Somerset, in 1612, and became an expert oculist; and
     probably Pepys received great benefit from his advice, as his vision
     does not appear to have failed during the many years that he lived
     after discontinuing the Diary.  The doctor died rich, and
     subsequently to his decease his sister Mary, inheriting all his
     prescriptions, and knowing how to use them, practised as an oculist
     in London with good reputation.—B.]

Thence home, where the streets full, at our end of the town, removing
their wine against the Act begins, which will be two days hence, to raise
the price. I did get my store in of Batelier this night. So home to supper
and to bed.

23rd. Up, and all the morning at the office. At noon home to dinner, and
so to the office again all the afternoon, and then to Westminster to Dr.
Turberville about my eyes, whom I met with: and he did discourse, I
thought, learnedly about them; and takes time before he did prescribe me
any thing, to think of it. So I away with my wife and Deb., whom I left at
Unthankes, and so to Hercules Pillars, and there we three supped on cold
powdered beef, and thence home and in the garden walked a good while with
Deane, talking well of the Navy miscarriages and faults. So home to bed.

24th. Up, and Creed and Colonell Atkins come to me about sending coals to
Tangier: and upon that most of the morning. Thence Creed and I to Alderman
Backewells about Tangier business of money, and thence I by water
(calling and drinking, but not baisado, at Michells) to Westminster, but
it being holyday did no business, only to Martins… and so home again by
water, and busy till dinner, and then with wife, Mercer, Deb., and W.
Hewer to the Duke of Yorks playhouse, and there saw The Impertinents, a
pretty good play; and so by water to Spring Garden, and there supped, and
so home, not very merry, only when we come home, Mercer and I sat and sung
in the garden a good while, and so to bed.

25th. Up, and to the office all the morning, and after dinner at home to
the office again, and there all the afternoon very busy till night, and
then home to supper and to bed.

26th. All the morning doing business at the office. At noon, with my
Fellow-Officers, to the Dolphin, at Sir G. Carterets charge, to dinner,
he having some accounts examined this morning. All the afternoon we all at
Sir W. Pens with him about the Victuallers accounts, and then in the
evening to Charing Cross, and there took up my wife at her tailors, and
so home and to walk in the garden, and then to sup and to bed.

27th. At the office all the morning, at noon dined at home, and then my
wife, and Deb., and I to the Kings playhouse, and saw The Indian
Queene, but do not doat upon Nan Marshalls acting therein, as the world
talks of her excellence therein. Thence with my wife to buy some linnen,
L13 worth, for sheets, &c., at the new shop over against the New
Exchange; [and the master, who is] come out of London—[To the
Strand.]—since the fire, says his and other tradesmens retail trade
is so great here, and better than it was in London, that they believe they
shall not return, nor the city be ever so great for retail as heretofore.
So home and to my business, and to bed.

28th (Lords day). Up, and to church, and then home to dinner, where Betty
Turner, Mercer, and Captain Deane, and after dinner to sing, Mr. Pelting
coming. Then, they gone, Deane and I all the afternoon till night to talk
of navy matters and ships with great pleasure, and so at night, he gone, I
to supper, Pelling coming again and singing a while, then to bed. Much
talk of the French setting out their fleete afresh; but I hear nothing
that our King is alarmed at it, at all, but rather making his fleete less.

29th. Called up by my Lady Peterboroughs servant about some business of
hers, and so to the office. Thence by and by with Sir J. Minnes toward St.
Jamess, and I stop at Dr. Turbervilles, and there did receive a
direction for some physic, and also a glass of something to drop into my
eyes: who gives me hopes that I may do well. Thence to St. Jamess, and
thence to White Hall, where I find the Duke of York in the
Council-chamber; where the Officers of the Navy were called in about Navy
business, about calling in of more ships; the King of France having, as
the Duke of York says, ordered his fleete to come in, notwithstanding what
he had lately ordered for their staying abroad. Thence to the Chapel, it
being St. Peters day, and did hear an anthem of Silas Taylors making; a
dull, old-fashioned thing, of six and seven parts, that nobody could
understand: and the Duke of York, when he come out, told me that he was a
better store-keeper than anthem-maker, and that was bad enough, too. This
morning Mr. May shewed me the Kings new buildings at White Hall, very
fine; and among other things, his ceilings, and his houses of office. So
home to dinner, and then with my wife to the Kings playhouse—The
Mulberry Garden, which she had not seen. So by coach to Islington, and
round by Hackney home with much pleasure, and to supper and bed.

30th. Up, and at the Office all the morning: then home to dinner, where a
stinking leg of mutton, the weather being very wet and hot to keep meat
in. Then to the Office again, all the afternoon: we met about the
Victuallers new contract. And so up, and to walk all the evening with my
wife and Mrs. Turner in the garden, till supper, about eleven at night;
and so, after supper, parted, and to bed, my eyes bad, but not worse, only
weary with working. But, however, I very melancholy under the fear of my
eyes being spoiled, and not to be recovered; for I am come that I am not
able to readout a small letter, and yet my sight good for the little while
I can read, as ever they were, I think.