April 1st. Up, and to dress myself, and call as I use Deb. to brush and dress me . . ., and I to my office, where busy till noon, and then out to bespeak some things against my wife’s going into the country tomorrow, and so home to dinner, my wife and I alone, she being mighty busy getting her things ready for her journey, I all the afternoon with her looking after things on the same account, and then in the afternoon out and all alone to the King’s house, and there sat in an upper box, to hide myself, and saw “The Black Prince,” a very good play; but only the fancy, most of it, the same as in the rest of my Lord Orrery’s plays; but the dance very stately; but it was pretty to see how coming after dinner and with no company with me to talk to, and at a play that I had seen, and went to now not for curiosity but only idleness, I did fall asleep the former part of the play, but afterward did mind it and like it very well. Thence called at my bookseller’s, and took Mr. Boyle’s Book of Formes, newly reprinted, and sent my brother my old one. So home, and there to my chamber till anon comes Mr. Turner and his wife and daughter, and Pelting, to sup with us and talk of my wife’s journey tomorrow, her daughter going with my wife; and after supper to talk with her husband about the Office, and his place, which, by Sir J. Minnes’s age and inability, is very uncomfortable to him, as well as without profit, or certainty what he shall do, when Sir J. Minnes dies, which is a sad condition for a man that hath lived so long in the Office as Mr. Turner hath done. But he aymes, and I advise him to it, to look for Mr. Ackworth’s place, in case he should be removed. His wife afterwards did take me into my closet, and give me a cellar1 of waters of her own distilling for my father, to be carried down with my wife and her daughter tomorrow, which was very handsome. So broke up and to bed.
1 A box to hold bottles.
“Run for the cellar of strong waters quickly”
— Ben Jonson, Magnetic Lady, act iii., sc. r.
2nd. Up, after much pleasant talk with my wife, and upon some alterations I will make in my house in her absence, and I do intend to lay out some money thereon. So she and I up, and she got her ready to be gone, and by and by comes Betty Turner and her mother, and W. Batelier, and they and Deb., to whom I did give 10s. this morning, to oblige her to please her mistress (and ego did baiser her mouche), and also Jane, and so in two coaches set out about eight o’clock towards the carrier, there for to take coach for my father’s, that is to say, my wife and Betty Turner, Deb., and Jane; but I meeting my Lord Anglesey going to the Office, was forced to ‘light in Cheapside, and there took my leave of them (not baisado Deb., which je had a great mind to), left them to go to their coach, and I to the office, where all the morning busy, and so at noon with my other clerks (W. Hewer being a day’s journey with my wife) to dinner, where Mr. Pierce come and dined with me, and then with Lord Brouncker (carrying his little kinswoman on my knee, his coach being full), to the Temple, where my Lord and I ‘light and to Mr. Porter’s chamber, where Cocke and his counsel, and so to the attorney’s, whither the Sollicitor–Generall come, and there, their cause about their assignments on the £1,250,000 Act was argued, where all that was to be said for them was said, and so answered by the Sollicitor–Generall beyond what I expected, that I said not one word all my time, rather choosing to hold my tongue, and so mind my reputation with the Sollicitor–Generall, who did mightily approve of my speech in Parliament, than say anything against him to no purpose. This I believe did trouble Cocke and these gentlemen, but I do think this best for me, and so I do think that the business will go against them, though it is against my judgment, and I am sure against all justice to the men to be invited to part with their goods and be deceived afterward of their security for payment. Thence with Lord Brouncker to the Royall Society, where they were just done; but there I was forced to subscribe to the building of a College, and did give £40; and several others did subscribe, some greater and some less sums; but several I saw hang off: and I doubt it will spoil the Society, for it breeds faction and ill-will, and becomes burdensome to some that cannot, or would not, do it. Here, to my great content, I did try the use of the Otacousticon — [Ear trumpet.]— which was only a great glass bottle broke at the bottom, putting the neck to my eare, and there I did plainly hear the dashing of the oares of the boats in the Thames to Arundell gallery window, which, without it, I could not in the least do, and may, I believe, be improved to a great height, which I am mighty glad of. Thence with Lord Brouncker and several of them to the King’s Head Taverne by Chancery Lane, and there did drink and eat and talk, and, above the rest, I did hear of Mr. Hooke and my Lord an account of the reason of concords and discords in musique, which they say is from the equality of vibrations; but I am not satisfied in it, but will at my leisure think of it more, and see how far that do go to explain it. So late at night home with Mr. Colwell, and parted, and I to the office, and then to Sir W. Pen to confer with him, and Sir R. Ford and Young, about our St. John Baptist prize, and so home, without more supper to bed, my family being now little by the departure of my wife and two maids.
3rd. Up, and Captain Perryman come to me to tell me how Tatnell told him that this day one How is to charge me before the Commissioners of Prizes to the value of £8000 in prizes, which I was troubled to hear, so fearful I am, though I know that there is not a penny to be laid to my charge that I dare not own, or that I have not owned under my hand, but upon recollection it signifies nothing to me, and so I value it not, being sure that I can have nothing in the world to my hurt known from the business. So to the office, where all the morning to despatch business, and so home to dinner with my clerks, whose company is of great pleasure to me for their good discourse in any thing of the navy I have a mind to talk of. After dinner by water from the Tower to White Hall, there to attend the Duke of York as usual, and particularly in a fresh complaint the Commissioners of the Treasury do make to him, and by and by to the Council this day of our having prepared certificates on the Exchequer to the further sum of near £50,000, and soon as we had done with the Duke of York we did attend the Council; and were there called in, and did hear Mr. Sollicitor [General] make his Report to the Council in the business; which he did in a most excellent manner of words, but most cruelly severe against us, and so were some of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, as men guilty of a practice with the tradesmen, to the King’s prejudice. I was unwilling to enter into a contest with them; but took advantage of two or three words last spoke, and brought it to a short issue in good words, that if we had the King’s order to hold our hands, we would, which did end the matter: and they all resolved we should have it, and so it ended: and so we away; I vexed that I did not speak more in a cause so fit to be spoke in, and wherein we had so much advantage; but perhaps I might have provoked the Sollicitor and the Commissioners of the Treasury, and therefore, since, I am not sorry that I forbore. Thence my Lord Brouncker and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw the latter part of “The Master and the Man,” and thence by coach to Duck Lane, to look out for Marsanne, in French, a man that has wrote well of musique, but it is not to be had, but I have given order for its being sent for over, and I did here buy Des Cartes his little treatise of musique, and so home, and there to read a little, and eat a little, though I find that my having so little taste do make me so far neglect eating that, unless company invite, I do not love to spend time upon eating, and so bring emptiness and the Cholique. So to bed. This day I hear that Prince Rupert and Holmes do go to sea: and by this there is a seeming friendship and peace among our great seamen; but the devil a bit is there any love among them, or can be.
4th. Up betimes, and by coach towards White Hall, and took Aldgate Street in my way, and there called upon one Hayward, that makes virginalls, and did there like of a little espinette, and will have him finish it for me; for I had a mind to a small harpsichon, but this takes up less room, and will do my business as to finding out of chords, and I am very well pleased that I have found it. Thence to White Hall, and after long waiting did get a small running Committee of Tangier, where I staid but little, and little done but the correcting two or three egregious faults in the Charter for Tangier after it had so long lain before the Council and been passed there and drawn up by the Atturney Generall, so slightly are all things in this age done. Thence home to the office by water, where we sat till noon, and then I moved we might go to the Duke of York and the King presently to get out their order in writing that was ordered us yesterday about the business of certificates, that we might be secure against the tradesmen who (Sir John Banks by name) have told me this day that they will complain in Parliament against us for denying to do them right. So we rose of a sudden, being mighty sensible of this inconvenience we are liable to should we delay to give them longer, and yet have no order for our indemnity. I did dine with Sir W. Pen, where my Lady Batten did come with desire of meeting me there, and speaking with me about the business of the £500 we demand of her for the Chest. She do protest, before God, she never did see the account, but that it was as her husband in his life-time made it, and he did often declare to her his expecting £500, and that we could not deny it him for his pains in that business, and that he hath left her worth nothing of his own in the world, and that therefore she could pay nothing of it, come what will come, but that he hath left her a beggar, which I am sorry truly for, though it is a just judgment upon people that do live so much beyond themselves in housekeeping and vanity, as they did. I did give her little answer, but generally words that might not trouble her, and so to dinner, and after dinner Sir W. Pen and I away by water to White Hall, and there did attend the Duke of York, and he did carry us to the King’s lodgings: but he was asleep in his closet; so we stayed in the Green–Roome, where the Duke of York did tell us what rules he had, of knowing the weather, and did now tell us we should have rain before tomorrow, it having been a dry season for some time, and so it did rain all night almost; and pretty rules he hath, and told Brouncker and me some of them, which were such as no reason seems ready to be given. By and by the King comes out, and he did easily agree to what we moved, and would have the Commissioners of the Navy to meet us with him tomorrow morning: and then to talk of other things; about the Quakers not swearing, and how they do swear in the business of a late election of a Knight of the Shire of Hartfordshire in behalf of one they have a mind to have; and how my Lord of Pembroke says he hath heard him (the Quaker) at the tennis-court swear to himself when he loses: and told us what pretty notions my Lord Pembroke hath of the first chapter of Genesis, how Adam’s sin was not the sucking (which he did before) but the swallowing of the apple, by which the contrary elements begun to work in him, and to stir up these passions, and a great deal of such fooleries, which the King made mighty mockery at. Thence my Lord Brouncker and I into the Park in his coach, and there took a great deal of ayre, saving that it was mighty dusty, and so a little unpleasant. Thence to Common Garden with my Lord, and there I took a hackney and home, and after having done a few letters at the office, I home to a little supper and so to bed, my eyes being every day more and more weak and apt to be tired.
5th (Lord’s day). Up, and to my chamber, and there to the writing fair some of my late musique notions, and so to church, where I have not been a good while, and thence home, and dined at home, with W. Hewer with me; and after dinner, he and I a great deal of good talk touching this Office, how it is spoiled by having so many persons in it, and so much work that is not made the work of any one man, but of all, and so is never done; and that the best way to have it well done, were to have the whole trust in one, as myself, to set whom I pleased to work in the several businesses of the Office, and me to be accountable for the whole, and that would do it, as I would find instruments: but this is not to be compassed; but something I am resolved to do about Sir J. Minnes before it be long. Then to my chamber again, to my musique, and so to church; and then home, and thither comes Captain Silas Taylor to me, the Storekeeper of Harwich, where much talk, and most of it against Captain Deane, whom I do believe to be a high, proud fellow; but he is an active man, and able in his way, and so I love him. He gone, I to my musique again, and to read a little, and to sing with Mr. Pelling, who come to see me, and so spent the evening, and then to supper and to bed. I hear that eight of the ringleaders in the late tumults of the ‘prentices at Easter are condemned to die.1
1 Four were executed on May 9th, namely, Thomas Limmerick, Edward Cotton, Peter Massenger, and Richard Beasley. They were drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn, and two of their heads fixed upon London Bridge (“The London Gazette,” No. 259). See “The Tryals of such persons as under the notion of London Apprentices were tumultuously assembled in Moore Fields, under colour of pulling down bawdy-houses,” 4to., London, 1668. “It is to be observed,” says “The London Gazette,” “to the just vindication of the City, that none of the persons apprehended upon the said tumult were found to be apprentices, as was given out, but some idle persons, many of them nursed in the late Rebellion, too readily embracing any opportunity of making their own advantages to the disturbance of the peace, and injury of others.”
6th. Betimes I to Alderman Backewell, and with him to my Lord Ashly’s, where did a little business about Tangier, and to talk about the business of certificates, wherein, contrary to what could be believed, the King and Duke of York themselves, in my absence, did call for some of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and give them directions about the business [of the certificates], which I, despairing to do any thing on a Sunday, and not thinking that they would think of it themselves, did rest satisfied, and stayed at home all yesterday, leaving it to do something in this day; but I find that the King and Duke of York had been so pressing in it, that my Lord Ashly was more forward with the doing of it this day, than I could have been. And so I to White Hall with Alderman Backewell in his coach, with Mr. Blany; my Lord’s Secretary: and there did draw up a rough draught of what order I would have, and did carry it in, and had it read twice and approved of, before my Lord Ashly and three more of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and then went up to the Council-chamber, where the Duke of York, and Prince Rupert, and the rest of the Committee of the Navy were sitting: and I did get some of them to read it there: and they would have had it passed presently, but Sir John Nicholas desired they would first have it approved by a full Council: and, therefore, a Council Extraordinary was readily summoned against the afternoon, and the Duke of York run presently to the King, as if now they were really set to mind their business, which God grant! So I thence to Westminster, and walked in the Hall and up and down, the House being called over today, and little news, but some talk as if the agreement between France and Spain were like to be, which would be bad for us, and at noon with Sir Herbert Price to Mr. George Montagu’s to dinner, being invited by him in the hall, and there mightily made of, even to great trouble to me to be so commended before my face, with that flattery and importunity, that I was quite troubled with it. Yet he is a fine gentleman, truly, and his lady a fine woman; and, among many sons that I saw there, there was a little daughter that is mighty pretty, of which he is infinite fond: and, after dinner, did make her play on the gittar and sing, which she did mighty prettily, and seems to have a mighty musical soul, keeping time with most excellent spirit. Here I met with Mr. Brownlow, my old schoolfellow, who come thither, I suppose, as a suitor to one of the young ladies that were there, and a sober man he seems to be. But here Mr. Montagu did tell me how Mr. Vaughan, in that very room, did say that I was a great man, and had great understanding, and I know not what, which, I confess, I was a little proud of, if I may believe him. Here I do hear, as a great secret, that the King, and Duke of York and Duchesse, and my Lady Castlemayne, are now all agreed in a strict league, and all things like to go very current, and that it is not impossible to have my Lord Clarendon, in time, here again. But I do hear that my Lady Castlemayne is horribly vexed at the late libell,1 the petition of the poor whores about the town, whose houses were pulled down the other day. I have got one of them, but it is not very witty, but devilish severe against her and the King and I wonder how it durst be printed and spread abroad, which shews that the times are loose, and come to a great disregard of the King, or Court, or Government. Thence I to White Hall to attend the Council, and when the Council rose we find my order mightily enlarged by the Sollicitor Generall, who was called thither, making it more safe for him and the Council, but their order is the same in the command of it that I drew, and will I think defend us well. So thence, meeting Creed, he and I to the new Cocke-pitt by the King’s gate, and there saw the manner of it, and the mixed rabble of people that come thither; and saw two battles of cocks, wherein is no great sport, but only to consider how these creatures, without any provocation, do fight and kill one another, and aim only at one another’s heads, and by their good will not leave till one of them be killed; and thence to the Park in a hackney coach, so would not go into the tour, but round about the Park, and to the House, and there at the door eat and drank; whither come my Lady Kerneagy, of whom Creed tells me more particulars; how her Lord, finding her and the Duke of York at the King’s first coming in too kind, did get it out of her that he did dishonour him, and so bid her continue . . ., which is the most pernicious and full piece of revenge that ever I heard of; and he at this day owns it with great glory, and looks upon the Duke of York and the world with great content in the ampleness of his revenge. Thence (where the place was now by the last night’s rain very pleasant, and no dust) to White Hall, and set Creed down, and I home and to my chamber, and there about my musique notions again, wherein I take delight and find great satisfaction in them, and so, after a little supper, to bed. This day, in the afternoon, stepping with the Duke of York into St. James’s Park, it rained: and I was forced to lend the Duke of York my cloak, which he wore through the Park.
1 “The Poor Whores’ Petition to the most splendid, illustrious, serene and eminent Lady of Pleasure the Countess of Castlemayne, &c., signed by us, Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page, this present 25th day of March, 1668.” This sham petition occasioned a pretended answer, entitled, “The Gracious Answer of the Most Illustrious Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castlem. . . . to the Poor Whores’ Petition.” It is signed, “Given at our Closset, in King Street, Westminster, die Veneris, April 24, 1668. Castlem. . . . ” Compare Evelyn, April 2nd, 1668.
7th. Up, and at the office all the morning, where great hurry to be made in the fitting forth of this present little fleet, but so many rubs by reason of want of money, and people’s not believing us in cases where we had money unless (which in several cases, as in hiring of vessels, cannot be) they be paid beforehand, that every thing goes backward instead of forward. At noon comes Mr. Clerke, my solicitor, and the Auditor’s men with my account drawn up in the Exchequer way with their queries, which are neither many nor great, or hard to answer upon it, and so dined with me, and then I by coach to the King’s playhouse, and there saw “The English Monsieur;”’ sitting for privacy sake in an upper box: the play hath much mirth in it as to that particular humour. After the play done, I down to Knipp, and did stay her undressing herself; and there saw the several players, men and women go by; and pretty to see how strange they are all, one to another, after the play is done. Here I saw a wonderful pretty maid of her own, that come to undress her, and one so pretty that she says she intends not to keep her, for fear of her being undone in her service, by coming to the playhouse. Here I hear Sir W. Davenant is just now dead; and so who will succeed him in the mastership of the house is not yet known. The eldest Davenport is, it seems, gone from this house to be kept by somebody; which I am glad of, she being a very bad actor. I took her then up into a coach and away to the Park, which is now very fine after some rain, but the company was going away most, and so I took her to the Lodge, and there treated her and had a deal of good talk, and now and then did baiser la, and that was all, and that as much or more than I had much mind to because of her paint. She tells me mighty news, that my Lady Castlemayne is mightily in love with Hart of their house: and he is much with her in private, and she goes to him, and do give him many presents; and that the thing is most certain, and Becke Marshall only privy to it, and the means of bringing them together, which is a very odd thing; and by this means she is even with the King’s love to Mrs. Davis. This done, I carried her and set her down at Mrs. Manuel’s, but stayed not there myself, nor went in; but straight home, and there to my letters, and so home to bed.
8th. Up, and at my office all the morning, doing business, and then at noon home to dinner all alone. Then to White Hall with Sir J. Minnes in his coach to attend the Duke of York upon our usual business, which was this day but little, and thence with Lord Brouncker to the Duke of York’s playhouse, where we saw “The Unfortunate Lovers,” no extraordinary play, methinks, and thence I to Drumbleby’s, and there did talk a great deal about pipes; and did buy a recorder, which I do intend to learn to play on, the sound of it being, of all sounds in the world, most pleasing to me. Thence home, and to visit Mrs. Turner, where among other talk, Mr. Foly and her husband being there, she did tell me of young Captain Holmes’s marrying of Pegg Lowther last Saturday by stealth, which I was sorry for, he being an idle rascal, and proud, and worth little, I doubt; and she a mighty pretty, well-disposed lady, and good fortune. Her mother and friends take on mightily; but the sport is, Sir Robert Holmes do seem to be mad too with his brother, and will disinherit him, saying that he hath ruined himself, marrying below himself, and to his disadvantage; whereas, I said, in this company, that I had married a sister lately, with little above half that portion, that he should have kissed her breech before he should have had her, which, if R. Holmes should hear, would make a great quarrel; but it is true I am heartily sorry for the poor girl that is undone by it. So home to my chamber, to be fingering of my Recorder, and getting of the scale of musique without book, which I at last see is necessary for a man that would understand musique, as it is now taught to understand, though it be a ridiculous and troublesome way, and I know I shall be able hereafter to show the world a simpler way; but, like the old hypotheses in philosophy, it must be learned, though a man knows a better. Then to supper, and to bed. This morning Mr. Christopher Pett’s widow and daughter come to me, to desire my help to the King and Duke of York, and I did promise, and do pity her.
9th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning sitting, then at noon home to dinner with my people, and so to the office again writing of my letters, and then abroad to my bookseller’s, and up and down to the Duke of York’s playhouse, there to see, which I did, Sir W. Davenant’s corpse carried out towards Westminster, there to be buried. Here were many coaches and six horses, and many hacknies, that made it look, methought, as if it were the buriall of a poor poet. He seemed to have many children, by five or six in the first mourning-coach, all boys. And there I left them coming forth, and I to the New Exchange, there to meet Mrs. Burroughs, and did take her in a carosse and carry elle towards the Park, kissing her . . ., but did not go into any house, but come back and set her down at White Hall, and did give her wrapt in paper for my Valentine’s gift for the last year before this, which I never did yet give her anything for, twelve half-crowns, and so back home and there to my office, where come a packet from the Downes from my brother Balty, who, with Harman, is arrived there, of which this day come the first news. And now the Parliament will be satisfied, I suppose, about the business they have so long desired between Brouncker and Harman about not prosecuting the first victory. Balty is very well, and I hope hath performed his work well, that I may get him into future employment. I wrote to him this night, and so home, and there to the perfecting my getting the scale of musique without book, which I have done to perfection backward and forward, and so to supper and to bed.
10th (Friday) All the morning at Office. At noon with W. Pen to Duke of York, and attended Council. So to piper and Duck Lane, and there kissed bookseller’s wife, and bought Legend. So home, coach. Sailor. Mrs. Hannam dead. News of Peace. Conning my gamut.1
1 The entries from April 10th to April 19th are transcribed from three leaves (six pages) of rough notes, which are inserted in the MS. The rough notes were made to serve for a sort of account book, but the amounts paid are often not registered in the fair copy when he came to transcribe his notes into the Diary.
12th (Sunday). Dined at Brouncker’s, and saw the new book. Peace. Cutting away sails.
13th (Monday). Spent at Michel’s 6d.; in the Folly, 1s.;1 oysters, 1s.; coach to W. Coventry about Mrs. Pett, 1s.; thence to Commissioners of Treasury, and so to Westminster Hall by water, 6d. With G. Montagu and Roger Pepys, and spoke with Birch and Vaughan, all in trouble about the prize business. So to Lord Crew’s (calling for a low pipe by the way), where Creed and G. M. and G. C. come, 1s. So with Creed to a play. Little laugh, 4s. Thence towards the Park by coach, 2s. 6d. Come home, met with order of Commissioners of Accounts, which put together with the rest vexed me, and so home to supper and to bed.
1 The Folly was a floating house of entertainment on the Thames, which at this time was a fashionable resort.
14th (Tuesday). Up betimes by water to the Temple. In the way read the Narrative about prizes; and so to Lord Crew’s bedside, and then to Westminster, where I hear Pen is, and sent for by messenger last night. Thence to Commissioners of Accounts and there examined, and so back to Westminster Hall, where all the talk of committing all to the Tower, and Creed and I to the Quaker’s, dined together. Thence to the House, where rose about four o’clock; and, with much ado, Pen got to Thursday to bring in his answer; so my Lord escapes today. Thence with Godage and G. Montagu to G. Carteret’s, and there sat their dinner-time: and hear myself, by many Parliament-men, mightily commended. Thence to a play, “Love’s Cruelty,” and so to my Lord Crew’s, who glad of this day’s time got, and so home, and there office, and then home to supper and to bed, my eyes being the better upon leaving drinking at night. Water, 1s. Porter, 6d. Water, 6d. Dinner, 3s. 6d. Play part, 2s. Oranges, 1s. Home coach, 1s. 6d.
15th. After playing a little upon my new little flageolet, that is so soft that pleases me mightily, betimes to my office, where most of the morning. Then by coach, 1s., and meeting Lord Brouncker, ‘light at the Exchange, and thence by water to White Hall, 1s., and there to the Chapel, expecting wind musick and to the Harp-and-Ball, and drank all alone, 2d. Back, and to the fiddling concert, and heard a practice mighty good of Grebus, and thence to Westminster Hall, where all cry out that the House will be severe with Pen; but do hope well concerning the buyers, that we shall have no difficulty, which God grant! Here met Creed, and, about noon, he and I, and Sir P. Neale to the Quaker’s, and there dined with a silly Executor of Bishop Juxon’s, and cozen Roger Pepys. Business of money goes on slowly in the House. Thence to White Hall by water, and there with the Duke of York a little, but stayed not, but saw him and his lady at his little pretty chapel, where I never was before: but silly devotion, God knows! Thence I left Creed, and to the King’s playhouse, into a corner of the 18d. box, and there saw “The Maid’s Tragedy,” a good play. Coach, 1s.: play and oranges, 2s. 6d. Creed come, dropping presently here, but he did not see me, and come to the same place, nor would I be seen by him. Thence to my Lord Crew’s, and there he come also after, and there with Sir T. Crew bemoaning my Lord’s folly in leaving his old interest, by which he hath now lost all. An ill discourse in the morning of my Lord’s being killed, but this evening Godolphin tells us here that my Lord is well. Thence with Creed to the Cock ale-house, and there spent 6d., and so by coach home, 2s. 6d., and so to bed.
16th. Th[ursday]. Greeting’s book, is. Begun this day to learn the Recorder. To the office, where all the morning. Dined with my clerks: and merry at Sir W. Pen’s crying yesterday, as they say, to the King, that he was his martyr. So to White Hall by coach to Commissioners of [the] Treasury about certificates, but they met not, 2s. To Westminster by water. To Westminster Hall, where I hear W. Pen is ordered to be impeached, 6d. There spoke with many, and particularly with G. Montagu: and went with him and Creed to his house, where he told how W. Pen hath been severe to Lord Sandwich; but the Coventrys both labouring to save him, by laying it on Lord Sandwich, which our friends cry out upon, and I am silent, but do believe they did it as the only way to save him. It could not be carried to commit him. It is thought the House do coole: W. Coventry’s being for him, provoked Sir R. Howard and his party; Court, all for W. Pen. Thence to White Hall, but no meeting of the Commissioners, and there met Mr. Hunt, and thence to Mrs. Martin’s, and, there did what I would, she troubled for want of employ for her husband, spent on her 1s. Thence to the Hall to walk awhile and ribbon, spent is. So [to] Lord Crew’s, and there with G. Carteret and my Lord to talk, and they look upon our matters much the better, and by this and that time is got, 1s. So to the Temple late, and by water, by moonshine, home, 1s. Cooks, 6d. Wrote my letters to my Lady Sandwich, and so home, where displeased to have my maid bring her brother, a countryman, to lye there, and so to bed.
17th (Friday). Called up by Balty’s coming, who gives me a good account of his voyage, and pleases me well, and I hope hath got something. This morning paid the Royall Society £1 6s., and so to the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner with my people, and there much pretty discourse of Balty’s. So by coach to White Hall: the coachman on Ludgate Hill ‘lighted, and beat a fellow with a sword, 2s. 6d. Did little business with the Duke of York. Hear that the House is upon the business of Harman, who, they say, takes all on himself. Thence, with Brouncker, to the King’s house, and saw “The Surprizall,” where base singing, only Knepp,’ who come, after her song in the clouds, to me in the pit, and there, oranges, 2s. After the play, she, and I, and Rolt, by coach, 6s. 6d., to Kensington, and there to the Grotto, and had admirable pleasure with their singing, and fine ladies listening to us: with infinite pleasure, I enjoyed myself: so to the tavern there, and did spend 16s. 6d., and the gardener 2s. Mighty merry, and sang all the way to the town, a most pleasant evening, moonshine, and set them at her house in Covent Garden, and I home and to bed.
18th (Saturday). Up, and my bookseller brought home books, bound — the binding comes to 17s. Advanced to my maid Bridget £1. Sir W. Pen at the Office, seemingly merry. Do hear this morning that Harman is committed by the Parliament last night, the day he come up, which is hard; but he took all upon himself first, and then when a witness come in to say otherwise, he would have retracted; and the House took it so ill, they would commit him. Thence home to dinner with my clerks, and so to White Hall by water, 1s., and there a short Committee for Tangier, and so I to the King’s playhouse, 1s., and to the play of the “Duke of Lerma,” 2s. 6d., and oranges, 1s. Thence by coach to Westminster, 1s., and the House just up, having been about money business, 1s. So home by coach, 3s., calling in Duck Lane, and did get Des Cartes’ Musique in English,’ and so home and wrote my letters, and then to my chamber to save my eyes, and to bed.
19th (Sunday). Lay long. Roger Pepys and his son come, and to Church with me, where W. Pen was, and did endeavour to shew himself to the Church. Then home to dinner, and Roger Pepys did tell me the whole story of Harman, how he prevaricated, and hath undoubtedly been imposed on, and wheedled; and he is called the miller’s man that, in Richard the Third’s time, was hanged for his master.1 So after dinner I took them by water to White Hall, taking in a very pretty woman at Paul’s Wharf, and there landed we, and I left Roger Pepys and to St. Margaret’s Church, and there saw Betty, and so to walk in the Abbey with Sir John Talbot, who would fain have pumped me about the prizes, but I would not let him, and so to walk towards Michell’s to see her, but could not, and so to Martin’s, and her husband was at home, and so took coach and to the Park, and thence home and to bed betimes. Water 1s., coach 5s. Balty borrowed £2.
1 The story alluded to by Pepys, which belongs not to the reign of Richard III., but to that of Edward VI., occurred during a seditious outbreak at Bodmin, in Cornwall, and is thus related by Holinshed: “At the same time, and neare the same place [Bodmin], dwelled a miller, that had beene a greate dooer in that rebellion, for whom also Sir Anthonie Kingston sought: but the miller being thereof warned, called a good tall fellow that he had to his servant, and said unto him, ‘I have business to go from home; if anie therefore come to ask for me, saie thou art the owner of the mill, and the man for whom they shall so aske, and that thou hast kept this mill for the space of three yeares; but in no wise name me.’ The servant promised his maister so to doo. And shortlie after, came Sir Anthonie Kingston to the miller’s house, and calling for the miller, the servant came forth, and answered that he was the miller. ‘How long,’ quoth Sir Anthonie, ‘hast thou kept this mill?’ He answered, ‘Three years.’—‘Well, then,’ said he, ‘come on: thou must go with me;’ and caused his men to laie hands on him, and to bring him to the next tree, saieing to him, ‘Thou hast been a busie knave, and therefore here shalt thou hang.’ Then cried the fellow out, and saide that he was not the miller, but the miller’s man. ‘Well, then,’ said Sir Anthonie, ‘thou art a false knave to be in two tales: therefore,’ said he, ‘hang him up;’ and so incontinentlie hanged he was indeed. After he was dead, one that was present told Sir Anthonie, ‘Surelie, sir, this was but the miller’s man.’—‘What then!’ said he, ‘could he ever have done his maister better service than to hang for him?’"— B.
20th. Up betimes and to the getting ready my answer to the Committee of Accounts to several questions, which makes me trouble, though I know of no blame due to me from any, let them enquire what they can out.1 I to White Hall, and there hear how Henry Brouncker is fled, which, I think, will undo him: but what good it will do Harman I know not, he hath so befooled himself; but it will be good sport to my Lord Chancellor to hear how his great enemy is fain to take the same course that he is. There met Robinson, who tells me that he fears his master, W. Coventry, will this week have his business brought upon the stage again, about selling of places, which I shall be sorry for, though the less, since I hear his standing for Pen the other day, to the prejudice, though not to the wrong, of my Lord Sandwich; and yet I do think what he did, he did out of a principle of honesty. Thence to Committee of Accounts, and delivered my paper, and had little discourse, and was unwilling to stay long with them to enter into much, but away and glad to be from them, though very civil to me, but cunning and close I see they are. So to Westminster Hall, and there find the Parliament upon the Irish business, where going into the Speaker’s chamber I did hear how plainly one lawyer of counsel for the complainants did inveigh by name against all the late Commissioners there. Thence with Creed, thinking, but failed, of dining with Lord Crew, and so he and I to Hercules Pillars, and there dined, and thence home by coach, and so with Jack Fenn to the Chamberlain of London to look after the state of some Navy assignments that are in his hands, and thence away, and meeting Sir William Hooker, the Alderman, he did cry out mighty high against Sir W. Pen for his getting such an estate, and giving £15,000 with his daughter, which is more, by half, than ever he did give; but this the world believes, and so let them. Thence took coach and I all alone to Hyde Park (passing through Duck Lane among the booksellers, only to get a sight of the pretty little woman I did salute the other night, and did in passing), and so all the evening in the Park, being a little unwilling to be seen there, and at night home, and thereto W. Pen’s and sat and talked there with his wife and children a good while, he being busy in his closet, I believe preparing his defence in Parliament, and so home to bed.
1 The first part of the entry for April 20th is among the rough notes, and stands as follows: “Monday 20. Up and busy about answer to Committee of Accounts this morning about several questions which vexed me though in none I have reason to be troubled. But the business of The Flying Greyhound begins to find me some care, though in that I am wholly void of blame.” This may be compared with the text.
21st. Up, and at the office all the morning, at noon dined at home, and thence took Mrs. Turner out and carried her to the King’s house, and saw “The Indian Emperour;” and after that done, took Knepp out, and to Kensington; and there walked in the garden, and then supped, and mighty merry, there being also in the house Sir Philip Howard, and some company, and had a dear reckoning, but merry, and away, it being quite night, home, and dark, about 9 o’clock or more, and in my coming had the opportunity the first time in my life to be bold with Knepp . . ., and so left her at home, and so Mrs. Turner and I home to my letters and to bed. Here hear how Sir W. Pen’s impeachment was read, and agreed to, in the House this day, and ordered to be engrossed; and he suspended the House —[From sitting as a member pending the impeachment.-B.]— Harman set at liberty; and Brouncker put out of the House, and a writ for a new election, and an impeachment ordered to be brought in against him, he being fled!1
1 Sir Charles Berkeley, jun. was chosen in his room. In the sea-fight off Southwold Bay on June 3rd, 1665, the English triumphed over the Dutch, but the very considerable victory was not followed up. During the night, while the Duke of York slept, Henry Brouncker, his groom of the bedchamber, ordered the lieutenant to shorten sail, by which means the progress of the whole fleet was retarded, the Duke of York’s being the leading ship. The duke affirmed that he first heard of Brouncker’s unjustifiable action in July, and yet he kept the culprit in his service for nearly two years after the offence had come to his knowledge. After Brouncker had been dismissed from the duke’s service, the House of Commons ejected him. The whole matter is one of the unsolved difficulties of history. See Lister’s “Life of Clarendon,” ii., 334 335
22nd. Up, and all the morning at my office busy. At noon, it being washing day, I toward White Hall, and stopped and dined all alone at Hercules Pillars, where I was mighty pleased to overhear a woman talk to her counsel how she had troubled her neighbours with law, and did it very roguishly and wittily. Thence to White Hall, and there we attended the Duke of York as usual; and I did present Mrs. Pett, the widow, and her petition to the Duke of York, for some relief from the King. Here was today a proposition made to the Duke of York by Captain Von Hemskirke for £20,000, to discover an art how to make a ship go two foot for one what any ship do now, which the King inclines to try, it costing him nothing to try; and it is referred to us to contract with the man. Thence to attend the Council about the business of certificates to the Exchequer, where the Commissioners of the Treasury of different minds, some would, and my Lord Ashly would not have any more made out, and carried it there should not. After done here, and the Council up, I by water from the Privy-stairs to Westminster Hall; and, taking water, the King and the Duke of York were in the new buildings; and the Duke of York called to me whither I was going? and I answered aloud, “To wait on our maisters at Westminster;” at which he and all the company laughed; but I was sorry and troubled for it afterwards, for fear any Parliament-man should have been there; and will be a caution to me for the time to come. Met with Roger Pepys, who tells me they have been on the business of money, but not ended yet, but will take up more time. So to the fishmonger’s, and bought a couple of lobsters, and over to the ‘sparagus garden, thinking to have met Mr. Pierce, and his wife and Knepp; but met their servant coming to bring me to Chatelin’s, the French house, in Covent Garden, and there with musick and good company, Manuel and his wife, and one Swaddle, a clerk of Lord Arlington’s, who dances, and speaks French well, but got drunk, and was then troublesome, and here mighty merry till ten at night, and then I away, and got a coach, and so home, where I find Balty and his wife come to town, and did sup with them, and so they to bed. This night the Duke of Monmouth and a great many blades were at Chatelin’s, and I left them there, with a hackney-coach attending him.
23rd. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon comes Knepp and Mrs. Pierce, and her daughter, and one Mrs. Foster, and dined with me, and mighty merry, and after dinner carried them to the Tower, and shewed them all to be seen there, and, among other things, the Crown and Scepters and rich plate, which I myself never saw before, and indeed is noble, and I mightily pleased with it. Thence by water to the Temple, and thereto the Cocke alehouse, and drank, and eat a lobster, and sang, and mighty merry. So, almost night, I carried Mrs. Pierce home, and then Knepp and I to the Temple again, and took boat, it being darkish, and to Fox Hall, it being now night, and a bonfire burning at Lambeth for the King’s coronation-day. And there she and I drank;. . . . and so back, and led her home, it being now ten at night; and so got a link; and, walking towards home, just at my entrance into the ruines at St. Dunstan’s, I was met by two rogues with clubs, who come towards us. So I went back, and walked home quite round by the wall, and got well home, and to bed weary, but pleased at my day’s pleasure, but yet displeased at my expence, and time I lose.
24th. Up betimes, and by water to White Hall, to the Duke of York, and there hear that this day Hopis and Temple purpose to bring in the petition against Sir W. Coventry, which I am sorry for, but hope he will get out of it. Here I presented Mrs. Pett and her condition to Mr. Wren for his favour, which he promised us. Thence to Lord Brouncker and sat and talked with him, who thinks the Parliament will, by their violence and delay in money matters, force the King to run any hazard, and dissolve them. Thence to Ducke Lane, and there did overlook a great many of Monsieur Fouquet’s library, that a bookseller hath bought, and I did buy one Spanish [work], “Los Illustres Varones.”1 Here did I endeavour to see my pretty woman that I did baiser in las tenebras a little while depuis. And did find her sofa in the book[shop], but had not la confidence para alter a elle. So lost my pains. But will another time, and so home and to my office, and then to dinner. After dinner down to the Old Swan, and by the way called at Michell’s, and there did see Betty, and that was all, for either she is shy or foolish, and su mardi hath no mind para laiser me see su moher. To White Hall by water, and there did our business with the Duke of York, which was very little, only here I do hear the Duke of York tell how Sir W. Pen’s impeachment was brought into the House of Lords today; and spoke with great kindness of him: and that the Lords would not commit him till they could find precedent for it, and did incline to favour him. Thence to the King’s playhouse, and there saw a piece of “Beggar’s Bush,” which I have not seen some years, and thence home, and there to Sir W. Pen’s and supped and sat talking there late, having no where else to go, and my eyes too bad to read right, and so home to bed.
1 Nicholas Fouquet, “Surintendant des Finances” in France, had built at Vaux a house which surpassed in magnificence any palace belonging to Louis XIV., prior to the erection of Versailles, and caused much envy to all the Court, especially to Colbert. Fouquet died at Pignerol in 1680, after nineteen years’ incarceration; and whilst Pepys was buying his books in London, Colbert had become prime minister in France, and Colbert’s brother ambassador in England. The ‘viper’ had caught the ‘squirrel’! — B.
25th. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes to my Lord Brouncker, and with him all of us to my Lord Ashly to satisfy him about the reason of what we do or have done in the business of the tradesmen’s certificates, which he seems satisfied with, but is not, but I believe we have done what we can justify, and he hath done what he cannot in stopping us to grant them, and I believe it will come into Parliament and make trouble. So home and there at the office all the morning. At noon home to dinner, and thence after dinner to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw “Sir Martin Marr-all,” which, the more I see, the more I like, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with Roger Pepys; and he tells me that nothing hath lately passed about my Lord Sandwich, but only Sir Robert Carr did speak hardly of him. But it is hoped that nothing will be done more, this meeting of Parliament, which the King did, by a message yesterday, declare again, should rise the 4th of May, and then only adjourne for three months: and this message being only adjournment, did please them mightily, for they are desirous of their power mightily. Thence homeward by the Coffee House in Covent Garden, thinking to have met Harris here but could not, and so home, and there, after my letters, I home to have my hair cut by my sister Michell and her husband, and so to bed. This day I did first put off my waste-coate, the weather being very hot, but yet lay in it at night, and shall, for a little time.
26th (Lord’s day). Lay long, and then up and to Church, and so home, where there come and dined with me Harris, Rolt, and Bannister, and one Bland, that sings well also, and very merry at dinner, and, after dinner, to sing all the afternoon. But when all was done, I did begin to think that the pleasure of these people was not worth so often charge and cost to me, as it hath occasioned me. They being gone I and Balty walked as far as Charing Cross, and there got a coach and to Hales’s the painter, thinking to have found Harris sitting there for his picture, which is drawing for me. But he, and all this day’s company, and Hales, were got to the Crown tavern, at next door, and thither I to them and stayed a minute, leaving Captain Grant telling pretty stories of people that have killed themselves, or been accessory to it, in revenge to other people, and to mischief other people, and thence with Hales to his house, and there did see his beginning of Harris’s picture, which I think will be pretty like, and he promises a very good picture. Thence with Balty away and got a coach and to Hide Park, and there up and down and did drink some milk at the Lodge, and so home and to bed.
27th. Up, and Captain Deane come to see me, and he and I toward Westminster together, and I set him down at White Hall, while I to Westminster Hall, and up to the Lords’ House, and there saw Sir W. Pen go into the House of Lords, where his impeachment was read to him, and he used mighty civilly, the Duke of York being there; and two days hence, at his desire, he is to bring in his answer, and a day then to be appointed for his being heard with Counsel. Thence down into the Hall, and with Creed and Godolphin walked; and do hear that tomorrow is appointed, upon a motion on Friday last, to discourse the business of my Lord Sandwich, moved by Sir R. Howard, that he should be sent for, home; and I fear it will be ordered. Certain news come, I hear, this day, that the Spanish Plenipotentiary in Flanders will not agree to the peace and terms we and the Dutch have made for him and the King of France; and by this means the face of things may be altered, and we forced to join with the French against Spain, which will be an odd thing. At noon with Creed to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined; and here was a very fine-skinned lady dined, the daughter of my Lord Roberts, and also a fine lady, Mr. John Parkhurst his wife, that was but a boy the other day. And after dinner there comes in my Lady Roberts herself, and with her Mr. Roberts’s daughter, that was Mrs. Boddevill, the great beauty, and a fine lady indeed, the first time I saw her. My Lord Crew, and Sir Thomas, and I, and Creed, all the afternoon debating of my Lord Sandwich’s business, against tomorrow, and thence I to the King’s playhouse, and there saw most of “The Cardinall,” a good play, and thence to several places to pay my debts, and then home, and there took a coach and to Mile End to take a little ayre, and thence home to Sir W. Pen’s, where I supped, and sat all the evening; and being lighted homeward by Mrs. Markham, I blew out the candle and kissed her, and so home to bed.
28th. Up betimes, and to Sir W. Coventry’s by water, but lost my labour, so through the Park to White Hall, and thence to my Lord Crew’s to advise again with him about my Lord Sandwich, and so to the office, where till noon, and then I by coach to Westminster Hall, and there do understand that the business of religion, and the Act against Conventicles, have so taken them up all this morning, and do still, that my Lord Sandwich’s business is not like to come on today, which I am heartily glad of. This law against Conventicles is very severe; but Creed, whom I met here, do tell me that, it being moved that Papists’ meetings might be included, the House was divided upon it, and it was carried in the negative; which will give great disgust to the people, I doubt. Thence with Creed to Hercules Pillars by the Temple again, and there dined he and I all alone, and thence to the King’s house, and there did see “Love in a Maze,” wherein very good mirth of Lacy, the clown, and Wintersell, the country-knight, his master. Thence to the New Exchange to pay a debt of my wife’s there, and so home, and there to the office and walk in the garden in the dark to ease my eyes, and so home to supper and to bed.
29th. Up, and to my office, where all the morning busy. At noon dined at home, and my clerks with me, and thence I to White Hall, and there do hear how Sir W. Pen hath delivered in his answer; and the Lords have sent it down to the Commons, but they have not yet read it, nor taken notice of it, so as, I believe, they will by design defer it till they rise, that so he, by lying under an impeachment, may be prevented in his going to sea, which will vex him, and trouble the Duke of York. Did little business with the Duke of York, and then Lord Brouncker and I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw “Love in a Tubb;” and, after the play done, I stepped up to Harris’s dressing-room, where I never was, and there I observe much company come to him, and the Witts, to talk, after the play is done, and to assign meetings. Mine was to talk about going down to see “The Resolution,” and so away, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there met with Mr. G. Montagu, and walked and talked; who tells me that the best fence against the Parliament’s present fury is delay, and recommended it to me, in my friends’ business and my own, if I have any; and is that, that Sir W. Coventry do take, and will secure himself; that the King will deliver up all to the Parliament; and being petitioned the other day by Mr. Brouncker to protect him, with teares in his eyes, the King did say he could not, and bid him shift for himself, at least till the House is up. Thence I away to White Hall, and there took coach home with a stranger I let into the coach, to club with me for it, he going into London, I set him down at the lower end of Cheapside, and I home, and to Sir W. Pen’s, and there sat, and by and by, it being now about nine o’clock at night, I heard Mercer’s voice, and my boy Tom’s singing in the garden, which pleased me mightily, I longing to see the girl, having not seen her since my wife went; and so into the garden to her and sang, and then home to supper, and mightily pleased with her company, in talking and singing, and so parted, and to bed.
30th. Up, and at the office all the morning. At noon Sir J. Minnes and I to the Dolphin Tavern, there to meet our neighbours, all of the Parish, this being Procession-day, to dine. And did; and much very good discourse; they being, most of them, very able merchants as any in the City: Sir Andrew Rickard, Mr. Vandeputt, Sir John Fredericke, Harrington, and others. They talked with Mr. Mills about the meaning of this day, and the good uses of it; and how heretofore, and yet in several places, they do whip a boy at each place they stop at in their procession. Thence I to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw “The Tempest,” which still pleases me mightily, and thence to the New Exchange, and then home, and in the way stopped to talk with Mr. Brisband, who gives me an account of the rough usage Sir G. Carteret and his Counsel had the other day, before the Commissioners of Accounts, and what I do believe we shall all of us have, in a greater degree than any he hath had yet with them, before their three years are out, which are not yet begun, nor God knows when they will, this being like to be no session of Parliament, when they now rise. So home, and there took up Mrs. Turner and carried her to Mile End and drank, and so back talking, and so home and to bed, I being mighty cold, this being a mighty cold day, and I had left off my waistcoat three or four days. This evening, coming home in the dusk, I saw and spoke to our Nell, Pain’s daughter, and had I not been very cold I should have taken her to Tower hill para together et toker her. Thus ends this month; my wife in the country, myself full of pleasure and expence; and some trouble for my friends, my Lord Sandwich, by the Parliament, and more for my eyes, which are daily worse and worse, that I dare not write or read almost any thing. The Parliament going in a few days to rise; myself so long without accounting now, for seven or eight months, I think, or more, that I know not what condition almost I am in, as to getting or spending for all that time, which troubles me, but I will soon do it. The kingdom in an ill state through poverty; a fleete going out, and no money to maintain it, or set it out; seamen yet unpaid, and mutinous when pressed to go out again; our Office able to do little, nobody trusting us, nor we desiring any to trust us, and yet have not money for any thing, but only what particularly belongs to this fleete going out, and that but lamely too. The Parliament several months upon an Act for £300,000, but cannot or will not agree upon it, but do keep it back, in spite of the King’s desires to hasten it, till they can obtain what they have a mind, in revenge upon some men for the late ill managements; and he is forced to submit to what they please, knowing that, without it, he shall have no money, and they as well, that, if they give the money, the King will suffer them to do little more; and then the business of religion do disquiet every body, the Parliament being vehement against the Nonconformists, while the King seems to be willing to countenance them. So we are all poor, and in pieces — God help us! while the peace is like to go on between Spain and France; and then the French may be apprehended able to attack us. So God help us!
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:59