contrary to expectation, brings with him two or three articles which do not please the King: as to retrench the Act of Navigation, and then to ascertain what are contraband goods; and then that those exiled persons, who are or shall take refuge in their country, may be secure from any further prosecution. Whether these will be enough to break the Peace upon, or no, he cannot tell; but I perceive the certainty of peace is blown over. To Charing Cross, there to see the great boy and girle that are lately come out of Ireland, the latter eight, the former but four years old, of most prodigious bigness for their age. I tried to weigh them in my arms, and and them twice as heavy as people almost twice their age; and yet I am apt to believe they are very young. Their father a little sorry fellow, and their mother an old Irish woman. They have had four children of this bigness, and four of ordinary growth, whereof two of each are dead. If (as my Lord Ormond certifies) it be true that they are no older, it is very monstrous.
9th. This evening news comes for certain that the Dutch are with their fleet before Dover, and that it is expected they will attempt something there. The business of the peace is quite dashed again.
12th. The Duke of Buckingham was before the Council the other day, and there did carry it very submissively and pleasingly to the King; but to my Lord Arlington, who do prosecute the business, he was most bitter and sharp, and very slighting. As to the letter about his employing a man to cast the King’s nativity, says he to the King, “Sir, this is none of my hand, and I refer it to your Majesty whether you do not know this hand.” The King answered, that it was indeed none of his, and that he knew whose it was, but could not recall it presently. “Why,” says he, “it is my sister of Richmond’s, [Mary, daughter of George Villiers first Duke of Buckingham; married first, to Charles Lord Herbert; secondly, to James Duke of Richmond and Lenox; and thirdly, to Thomas Howard, brother to Charles Earl of Carlisle. She left no issue by any of her husbands.] some frolick or other of hers about some certain person: and there is nothing of the King’s name in it, but it is only said to be his by supposition, as is said.” The King, it seems, was not very much displeased with what the Duke had said; but however, he is still in the Tower, and no discourse of his being out in haste, though my Lady Caatlemaine hath so far solicited for him that the King and she are quite fallen out: he comes not to her, nor hath for some three or four days; and parted with very foul words, the King calling her a jade that meddled with things she had nothing to do with at all: and she calling him fool; and told him if he was not a fool he would not suffer his businesses to be carried on by fools that did not understand them, and cause his best subjects, and those best able to serve him, to be imprisoned; meaning the Duke of Buckingham. And it seems she was not only for his liberty, but to be restored to all his places; which, it is thought, he will never be. It was computed that the Parliament had given the King for this war only, besides all prizes, and besides the 200,000l. which he was to spend of his own revenue, to guard the sea above 5,000,000l. and odd 100,000l.; which is a most prodigious sum. It is strange how everybody do now-a-days reflect upon Oliver, and commend him, what brave things he did, and made all the neighbour princes fear him; while here a prince, come in with all the love and prayers and good liking of his people, who have given greater signs of loyalty and willingness to serve him with their estates that ever was done by any people, hath lost all so soon, that it is a miracle what way a man could devise to lose so much in so little time. Sir Thomas Crewe tells me how I am mightily in esteem with the Parliament; there being harangues made in the House to the Speaker, of Mr. Pepys’s readiness and civility to show them everything.
13th. Mr. Pierce tells us what troubles me, that my Lord Buckhurst hath got Nell away from the King’s house, and gives her 100l. a-year, so as she hath sent her parts to the house, and will act no more and yesterday Sir Thomas Crewe told me that Lacy lies a-dying; nor will receive any ghostly advice from a bishop, an old acquaintance of his, that went to see him. It is an odd and sad thing to say, that though this be a peace worse than we had before, yet everybody’s fear almost is, that the Dutch will not stand by their promise, now the King hath consented to all they would have. And yet no wise man that I meet with, when he comes to think of it, but wishes with all his heart a war; but that the King is not a man to be trusted with the management of it. It was pleasantly said by a man in this City, a stranger, to one that told him the peace was concluded, “Well,” says he, “and have you a peace?” “Yes,” says the other. “Why then,” says he, “hold your peace!” Partly reproaching us with the disgracefulness of it, that it is not fit to be mentioned; and next, that we are not able to make the Dutch keep it, when they have a mind to break it.
14th. To Epsum, by eight o’clock, to the well; where much company. And to the towne to the King’s Head; and hear that my Lord Buckhurst and Nelly are lodged at the next house, and Sir Charles Sedley with them: and keep a merry house. Poor girl! I pity her; but more the loss of her at the King’s house. Here Tom Wilson come to see me, and sat and talked an hour: and I perceive he hath been much acquainted with Dr. Fuller (Tom) and Dr. Pierson, and several of the great cavalier parsons during the late troubles; and I was glad to hear him talk of them, which he did very ingenuously, and very much of Dr. Fuller’s art of memory, which he did tell me several instances of. By and by he parted, and I talked with the two women that farm the well at 12l. per annum of the lord of the manor. Mr. Evelyn with his lady, and also my Lord George Barkeley’s lady, [Elizabeth, daughter and co-heir of John Maasingberd, Esq.] and their fine daughter, that the King of France liked so well, and did dance so rich in jewells before the King at the Ball I was at at our Court last winter, and also their son, a Knight of the Bath, [Charles, eldest son, summoned to Parliament as Baron Berkeley, VITA PATRIS, 1680, Ob. 1710, having succeeded his father in the Earldom 1698.] were at church this morning. I walked upon the Downes, where a flock of sheep was; and the most pleasant and innocent sight that ever I saw in my life. We found a shepherd and his little boy reading, far from any houses or sight of people, the Bible to him; and we took notice of his wooling knit stockings, of two colours mixed. Mrs. Turner mightily pleased with my resolution, which, I tell her, is never to keep a country-house, but to keep a coach, and with my wife on the Saturday to go sometimes for a day to this place, and then quit to another place; and there is more variety and as little charge, and no trouble, as there is in a country-house.
17th. Home, where I was saluted with the news of Hogg’s bringing a rich Canary prize to Hull: and Sir W. Batten do offer me 1000l. down for my particular share, beside Sir Richard Ford’s part; which do tempt me; but yet I would not take it;, but will stand and fall with the company. He and two more, the Panther and Fanfan, did enter into consortship; and so they have all brought in each a prize, though ours worth as much as both theirs, and more. However, it will be well worth having, God be thanked for it! This news makes us all very glad. I at Sir W. Batten’s did hear the particulars of it; and there for joy he did give the company that were there a bottle or two of his own last year’s wine growing at Walthamstow, than which the whole company said they never drank better foreign wine in their lives. The Duke of Buckingham is, it seems, set at liberty without any further charge against him or other clearing of him, but let to go out; which is one of the strangest instances of the fool’s play, with which all publick things are done in this age, that is to be apprehended. And it is said that when he was charged with making himself popular, (as indeed he is, for many of the discontented Parliament, Sir Robert Howard, and Sir Thomas Meres, and others, did attend at the Council-chamber when he was examined,) he should answer, that whoever was committed to prison by my Lord Chancellor or my Lord Arlington, could not want being popular. But it is worth considering the ill state a Minister of State is in, under such a Prince as ours is; for, undoubtedly, neither of those two great men would have been so fierce against the Duke of Buckingham at the Council-table the other day, had they not been assured of the King’s good liking, and supporting them therein: whereas, perhaps at the desire of my Lady Castlemaine, (who I suppose, hath at last overcome the King,) the Duke of Buckingham is well received again, and now these men delivered up to the interest he can make for his revenge. He told me over the story of Mrs. Stewart, much after the manner which I was told it by Mr. Evelyn: only he says it is verily believed that the King did never intend to marry her to any but himself, and that the Duke of York and Lord Chancellor were jealous of it: and that Mrs. Stewart might be got with child by the King, or somebody else, and the King own a marriage before his contract (for it is but a contract, as he tells me to this day,) with the Queene, and so wipe their noses of the Crown; and that, therefore, the Duke of York and Chancellor did do all they could to forward the match with my Lord Duke of Richmond, that she might be married out of the way: but above all, it is a worthy part that this good lady hath acted. My sister Michell [The wife of Balthazar St. Michel, Mrs. Pepys’s brother.] come from Lee to see us; but do tattle so much of the late business of the Dutch coming thither that I am weary of it. Yet it is worth remembering what she says: that she hath heard both seamen and soldiers swear they would rather serve the Dutch than the King, for they should be better used. She saw “The Royal Charles” brought into the river by them; and how they shot off their great guns for joy, when they got her out of Chatham river.
19th. One tells me that, by letter from Holland, the people there are made to believe that our condition in England is such as they may have whatever they will ask; and that so they are mighty high, and despise us, or a peace with us: and there is too much reason for them to do so. The Dutch fleet are in great squadrons everywhere still about Harwich, and were lately at Portsmouth; and the last letters say at Plymouth, and now gone to Dartmouth to destroy our Streights’ fleet lately got in thither: but God knows whether they can do it any hurt, or no.
22nd. Up to my Lord Chancellor’s, where was a Committee of Tangier in my Lord’s roome, where he sits to hear causes, and where all the Judges’ pictures hung up, very fine. But to see how Sir W. Coventry did oppose both my Lord Chancellor and the Duke of York himself, about the Order of the Commissioners of the Treasury to me for not paying of pensions, and with so much reason, and eloquence so natural, was admirable. And another thing, about his pressing for the reduction of the charge of Tangier, which they would have put off to another time; “But,” says he, “the King suffers so much by the putting off of the consideration of reductions of charge, that he is undone; and therefore I do pray you, Sir, (to his Royal Highness,) that when any thing offers of the kind, you will not let it escape you.” Here was a great bundle of letters brought hither, sent up from sea, from a vessel of ours that hath taken them after they had been flung over by a Dutchman; wherein, among others, the Duke of York did read superscription of one to De Witt, thus–“To the most wise, foreseeing, and discreet, These, &c.;” which, I thought with myself, I could have been glad might have been duly directed to any one of them at the table, though the greatest men in this kingdom. The Duke of York, the Lord Chancellor, my Lord Duke of Albemarle, Arlington, Ashly, Peterborough, and Coventry, (the best of them all for parts,) I perceive they do all profess their expectation of a peace, and that suddenly. Sir W. Coventry did declare his opinion that if Tangier were offered us now, as the King’s condition is; he would advise against the taking it; saying, that the King’s charge is too great, and must be brought down, it being like the fire of this City, never to be mastered till you have brought it under you; and that these places abroad are but so much charge to the King, and we do rather herein strive to greaten them than lessen them; and then the King is forced to part with them “as,” says he, “he did with Dunkirke, by my Lord Tiviott’s making it so chargeable to the King as he did that, and would have done Tangier, if he had lived.” I perceive he is the only man that do seek the King’s profit, and is bold to deliver what he thinks on every occasion. With much pleasure reflecting upon our discourse to-day at the Tangier meeting, and crying up the worth of Sir W. Coventry. Creed tells me of the fray between the Duke of Buckingham at the Duke’s playhouse the last Saturday, (and it is the first day I have heard that they have acted at either the King’s or Duke’s houses this month or six weeks), and Henry Killigrew, whom the Duke of Buckingham did soundly beat and take away his sword, and make a fool of, till the fellow prayed him to spare his life; and I am glad of it, for it seems in this business the Duke of Buckingham did carry himself very innocently and well, and I wish he had paid this fellow’s coat well. I heard something of this at the ‘Change to- day: and it is pretty to hear how people do speak kindly of the Duke of Buckingham, as one that will enquire into faults; and therefore they do mightily favour him. And it puts me in mind that, this afternoon, Billing the Quaker meeting me in the Hall, come to me, and after a little discourse did say, “Well,” says he, “now you will be all called to an account;” meaning the Parliament is drawing near.
23rd. By and by comes sudden news to me by letter from the Clerke of the Cheque at Gravesend, that there were thirty sail of Dutch men-of-war coming up into the Hope this last tide: which I told Sir W. Pen of; but he would not believe it, but laughed, and said it was a fleet of Billanders, and that the guns that were heard was the salutation of the Swede’s Embassador that comes over with them. But within half an hour comes another letter from Captain Proud, that eight of them were come into the Hope, and thirty more following them, at ten this morning. By and by comes an order from White Hall to send down one of our number to Chatham, fearing that, as they did before, they may make a show first up hither, but then go to Chatham: so my Lord Brouncker do go, and we here are ordered to give notice to the merchant men- of-war, gone below the barricado at Woolwich, to come up again.
24th. Betimes this morning comes a letter from the Clerk of the Cheque at Gravesend to me, to tell me that the Dutch fleet did come all into the Hope yesterday noon, and held a fight with our ships from thence till seven at night; that they had burned twelve fire-ships, and we took one of theirs, and burned five of our fire-ships. But then rising and going to Sir W. Batten, he tells me that we have burned one of their men-of-war, and another of theirs is blown up: but how true this is, I know not. But these fellows are mighty bold, and have had the fortune of the wind easterly this time to bring them up, and prevent our troubling them with our fire-ships; and, indeed, have had the winds at their command from the beginning, and now do take the beginning of the spring, as if they had some great design to do. About five o’clock down to Gravesend; and as we come nearer Gravesend, we hear the Dutch fleet and ours a-firing their guns most distinctly and loud. So I landed and discoursed with the landlord of the Ship, who undeceives me in what I heard this morning about the Dutch having lost two men-of-war, for it is not so, but several of their fire-ships. He do say, that this afternoon they did force our ships to retreat, but that now they are gone down as far as Shield-haven: but what the event hath been of this evening’s guns they know not, but suppose not much for they have all this while shot at good distance one from another. They seem confident of the security of this town and the River above it, if ever the enemy should come up so high; their fortifications being so good, and guns many. But he do say that people do complain of Sir Edward Spragg, that he hath not done extraordinary; and more of Sir W. Jenings, that he came up with his tamkins [Tamkin or Tompion, the stopple of a great gun.] in his guns.
25th. I demanded of Sir R. Ford and the rest, what passed to-day at the meeting of Parliament: who told me that, contrary to all expectation by the King that there would be but a thin meeting, there met above 300 this first day, and all the discontented party; and, indeed, the whole House seems to be no other almost. The Speaker told them, as soon as they were sat, that he was ordered by the King to let them know he was hindered by some important business to come to them and speak to them, as he intended; and, therefore, ordered him to move that they would adjourn themselves till Monday next, (it being very plain to all the House that he expects to hear by that time of the sealing of the peace, which by letters, it seems, from my Lord Hollis was to be sealed the last Sunday.) But before they would come to the question whether they would adjourn, Sir Thomas Tomkins steps up and tells them, that all the country is grieved at this new- raised standing-army; and that they thought themselves safe enough in their trayn-bands: and that, therefore, he desired the King might be moved to disband them. Then rises Garraway and seconds him, only with this explanation, (which he said he believed the other meant;) that, as soon as peace should be concluded, they might be disbanded. Then rose Sir W. Coventry, and told them that he did approve of what the last gentleman said; but also, that at the same time he did no more than what he durst be bold to say he knew to be the King’s mind, that as soon as peace was concluded he would do it of himself. Then rose Sir Thomas Littleton, and did give several reasons from the uncertainty of their meeting again but to adjourne, (in case news comes of the peace being ended before Monday next,) and the possibility of the King’s having some about him that may endeavour to alter his own, and the good part of his Council’s advice, for the keeping up of the land-army: and, therefore, it was fit that they did present it to the King as their desire, that as soon as peace was concluded the land-army might be laid down, and that this their request might be carried to the King by them of their House that were Privy-councillors; which was put to the vote, and carried NEMINE CONTRADICENTE. So after this vote passed, they adjourned: but it is plain what the effects of this Parliament will be, if they be suffered to sit, that they will fall foul upon the faults of the Government; and I pray God they may be permitted to do it, for nothing else, I fear, will save the King and kingdom than the doing it betimes.
27th. To the office, where I hear that Sir John Coventry [Nephew to Sir William and Henry Coventry; created K.B. at Charles II.’s coronation, and M.P. for Weymouth in several Parliaments. The outrage committed on his person by Sir Thomas Sandys, O’Bryan, and others, who cut his nose to the bone, gave rise to the passing a Bill still known by the name of “THE COVENTRY ACT.”] is come over from Bredagh, (a nephew, I think, of Sir W. Coventry’s); but what message he brings I know not. This morning news is come that Sir Jos. Jordan is come from Harwich, with sixteen fire-ships and four other little ships of war; and did attempt to do some execution upon the enemy, but did, it without discretion, as most do say, so as they have been able to do no good, but have lost four of their fire-ships. They attempted this, it seems, when the wind was too strong, that our grapplings could not hold: others say we came to leeward of them, but all condemn it as a foolish management. They are come to Sir Edward Spragg about Lee, and the Dutch are below at the Nore. At the office all the morning: and at noon to the ‘Change, where I met Fenn. And he tells me that Sir John Coventry do bring the confirmation of the peace; but I do not find the ‘Change at all glad of it, but rather the worse, they looking upon it as a peace made only to preserve the King for a time in his lusts and ease, and to sacrifice trade and his kingdoms only to his own pleasures; so that the hearts of merchants are quite down. He tells me that the King and my Lady Castlemaine are quite broke off, and she is gone away, and is with child, and swears the King shall own it; and she will have it christened in the Chapel at White Hall so, and owned for the King’s, as other Kings have done; or she will bring it into White Hall gallery, and dash the brains of it out before the King’s face. He tells me that the King and Court were never in the world so bad as they are now for gaming, swearing, women, and drinking, and the most abominable vices that ever were in the world; so that all must come to nought. He told me that Sir G. Carteret was at this end of the town: so I went to visit; him in Broad-street. And there he and I together: and he is mightily pleased with my Lady Jem’s having a son; and a mighty glad man he is. He tells me, as to news, that; the peace is now confirmed, and all that over. He says it was a very unhappy motion in the House the other day about the land-army; for whether the King hath a mind of his own to do the thing desired, or no, his doing it will be looked upon as a thing done only in fear of the Parliament. He says that the Duke of York is suspected to be the great man that is for raising this army, and bringing things to be commanded by an army; but that he do know that he is wronged therein. He do say that the Court is in a way to ruin all for their pleasures; and says that he himself hath once taken the liberty to tell the King the necessity of having at least a show of religion in the Government, and sobriety; and that it was that that did set up and keep up Oliver, though he was the greatest rogue in the world. He tells me the King adheres to no man, but this day delivers himself up to this and the next to that, to the ruin of himself and business: that he is at the command of any woman like a slave, though he be the best man to the Queene in the world, with so much respect, and never lies a night from her; but yet cannot command himself in the presence of a woman he likes. It raining this day all day to our great joy, it having not rained, I think, this month before, so as the ground was every where so burned and dry as could be; and no travelling in the road or streets in London, for dust.
28th. All the morning close to draw up a letter to Sir W. Coventry upon the tidings of peace, taking occasion (before I am forced to it) to resign up to his Royall Highness my place of the Victualling, and to recommend myself to him by promise of doing my utmost to improve this peace in the best manner we may, to save the kingdom from ruin.
29th. Up, and with Sir W. Batten to St. James’s, to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber; where, among other things, he came to me and told me that he had received my yesterday’s letters, and that we concurred very well in our notions; and that as to my place which I had offered to resign of the Victualling, he had drawn up a letter at the same time for the Duke of York’s signing for the like places in general raised during this war; and that he had done me right to the Duke of York, to let him know that I had of my own accord offered to resign mine. The letter do bid us to do all things, particularizing several, for the laying up of the ships and easing the King of charge; so that the war is now professedly over. By and by up to the Duke of York’s chamber; and there all the talk was about Jordan’s coming with so much indiscretion, with his four little frigates and sixteen fire- ships from Harwich, to annoy the enemy. His failures were of several sorts, I know not which the truest: that he came with so strong a gale of wind that his grapplings would not hold; that he did come by their lee, whereas if he had come athwart their hawse, they would have held; that they did not stop a tide, and ebb up with a windward tide, and then they would have come so fast. Now there happened to be Captain Jenifer by, who commanded the Lily in this business, and thus says: that finding the Dutch not so many as they expected, they did not know that there were more of them above, and so were not so earnest to the setting upon these; that they did do what they could to make the fire- ships fall in among the enemy; and for their lives Sir J. Jordan nor others could, by shooting several times at them, make them go in: and it seems they were commanded by some idle fellows, such as they could of a sudden gather up at Harwich; which is a sad consideration, that at such a time as this, where the saving the reputation of the whole nation lay at stake, and after so long a war, the King had not credit to gather a few able men to command these vessels. He says, that if they had come up slower, the enemy would (with their boats and their great sloops, which they have to row with a great many men,) and did come and cut up several of our fire-ships, and would certainly have taken most of them, for they do come with a great provision of these boats on purpose, and to save their men, which is bravely done of them, though they did on this very occasion show great fear, as they say, by some men leaping overboard out of a great ship (as these were all of them of sixty and seventy guns a-piece) which one of our fire-ships laid on board, though the fire did not take. But yet it is brave to see what care they do take to encourage their men to provide great stores of boats to save them, while we have not credit to find one boat for a ship. And further, he told us that this new way used by Deane (and this Sir W. Coventry observed several times) of preparing of fire-ships do not do the work; for the fire not being strong and quick enough to flame up, so as to take the rigging and sails, lies smothering a great while, half an hour before it flames, in which time they can get the fire-ship off safely, though (which is uncertain, and did fail in one or two this bout) it do serve to burn our own ships. But what a shame it is to consider how two of our ships’ companies did desert their ships for fear of being taken by their boats, our little frigates being forced to leave them, being chased by their greater! And one more company did set their ship on fire, and leave her; which afterwards a Feversham fisherman came up to, and put out the fire, and carried safe into Feversham, where she now is. Which was observed by the Duke of York, and all the company with him, that it was only want of courage, and a general dismay and abjectness of spirit upon all our men; and others did observe our ill management, and God Almighty’s curse upon all that we have in hand, for never such an opportunity was of destroying so many good ships of theirs as we now had. But to see how negligent we were in this business, that our fleet of Jordan’s should not have any notice where: Spragg was, nor Spragg of Jordan’s so as to be able to meet and join in the business, and help one another; but Jordan, when he saw Spragg’s fleet above, did think them to be another part of the enemy’s fleet! while, on the other side, notwithstanding our people at Court made such a secret of Jordan’s design that nobody must know it, and even this office itself must not know it; nor for my part; I did not, though Sir W. Batten says by others’ discourse to him he had heard something of it; yet De Ruyter (or he that commanded this fleet) had notice of it, and told it to a fisherman of ours that he took and released on Thursday last, which was the day before our fleet came to him. But then, that that seems most to our disgrace, and which the Duke of York did take special and vehement notice of, is, that when the Dutch saw so many fire-ships provided for them, themselves lying, I think, about the Nore, they did with all their great ships, with a North-east wind, (as I take it they said, but whatever it was, it was a wind that we should not have done it with,) turn down to the Middle-ground; which, the Duke of York observed, never was nor would have been undertaken by ourselves. And whereas some of the company answered, it was their great fear, not their choice, that made them do it, the Duke of York answered, that it was, it maybe, their fear and wisdom that made them do it; but yet their fear did not make them mistake, as we should have done, when we have had no fear upon us, and have run our ships on ground. And this brought it into my mind, that they managed their retreat down this difficult passage, with all their fear, better than we could do ourselves in the main sea, when the Duke of Albemarle ran away from the Dutch, when the Prince was lost, and the Royal Charles and the other great ships came on ground upon the Galloper. Thus in all things, in wisdom, courage, force, knowledge of our own streams, and success, the Dutch have the best of us, and do end the war with victory on their side. One thing extraordinary was this day: a man, a Quaker, came naked through the Hall, only very civilly tied about the loins to avoid scandal, and with a chafing-dish of fire and brimstone burning upon his head, did pass through the Hall, crying “Repent! repent!” Presently comes down the House of Commons, the King having made a very short and no pleasing speech to them at all, not at all giving them thanks for their readiness to come up to town at this busy time; but told them that he did think he should have had occasion for them, but had none, and therefore did dismiss them to look after their own occasions till October; and that he did wonder any should offer to bring in a suspicion that he intended to rule by an army, or otherwise than by the laws of the land, which he promised them he would do; and so bade them go home and settle the minds of the country in that particular; and only added, that; he had made a peace which be did believe they would find reasonable, and a good peace, but did give them none of the particulars thereof. Thus they are dismissed again to their general great distaste, I believe the greatest that ever Parliament was, to see themselves so fooled, and the nation in certain condition of ruin, while the King, they see, is only governed by his lust, and women, and rogues about him. The Speaker, they found, was kept from coming in the morning to the House on purpose till after the King was come to the House of Lords, for fear they should be doing any thing in the House of Commons to the further dissatisfaction of the King and his courtiers. They do all give up the kingdom for lost, that I speak to; and do hear what the King says, how he and the Duke of York do do what they can to get up an army, that they may need no more Parliaments: and how my Lady Castlemaine hath, before the last breach between her and the King, said to the King, that he must rule by an army, or all would be lost. I am told that many petitions were provided for the Parliament, complaining of the wrongs they have received from the Court and courtiers, in city and country, if the Parliament had but sat: and I do perceive they all do resolve to have a good account of the money spent before ever they give a farthing more; and the whole kingdom is every where sensible of their being abused, insomuch that they forced their Parliament-men to come up to sit; and my cozen Roger told me that (but that was in mirth) he believed, if he had not come up he should have had his house burned. The kingdom never in so troubled a condition in this world as now; nobody pleased with the peace, and yet nobody daring to wish for the continuance of the war, it being plain that nothing do nor can thrive under us. Here I saw old good Mr. Vaughan, and several of the great men of the Commons, and some of them old men, that are come 200 miles and more to attend this session of Parliament; and have been at great charge and disappointments in their other private business; and now all to no purpose, neither to serve their country, content themselves, nor receive any thanks from the King. It is verily expected by many of them that the King will continue the prorogation in October, so as, if it be possible, never to have this Parliament more. My Lord Bristoll took his place in the House of Lords this day, but not in his robes; and when the King came in he withdrew: but my Lord of Buckingham was there as brisk as ever, and sat in his robes; which is a monstrous thing, that a man should be proclaimed against, and put in the Tower, and released without any trial, and yet not restored to his places. But above all, I saw my Lord Mordaunt [Vide note Nov. 26, 1666.] as merry as the best, that it seems hath done such further indignities to Mr. Taylor since the last sitting of Parliament as would hang him, if there were nothing else, would the King do what were fit for him; but nothing of that is now likely to be. Cozen Roger and Creed to dinner with me, and very merry: but among other things they told me of the strange, bold sermon of Dr. Creeton [Probably Robert Creyghton of Trin. Col. Cambridge, A.M. 1662. Ling. Graec. Prof. Reg. 1672-3.] yesterday before the King; how he preached against the sins of the Court, and particularly against adultery, over and over instancing how for that single sin in David the whole nation was undone; and of our negligence in having our castles without ammunition and powder when the Dutch came upon us; and how we have no courage now-a-days, but let our ships be taken out of our harbour. Here Creed did tell us the story of the duell last night, in Covent-garden, between Sir H. Bellasses and Tom Porter. It is worth remembering the silliness of the quarrel, and is a kind of emblem of the general complexion of this whole kingdom at present. They two dined yesterday at Sir Robert Carr’s [M.P. Knight and Baronet, of Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and one of the proposed knights of the Royal Oak for that county.] where it seems people do drink high, all that come. It happened that these two, the greatest friends in the world, were talking together: and Sir H. Bellasses talked a little louder than ordinary to Tom Porter, giving of him some advice. Some of the company standing by said, “What! are they quarrelling, that they talk so high?” Sir H. Bellasses hearing it, said, “No!” says he: “I would have you know I never quarrel, but I strike; and take that as a rule of mine!” “How?” says Tom Porter, “strike! I would I could see the man in England that durst give me a blow!” with that Sir H. Bellasses did give him a box of the ears; and so they were going to fight there, but were hindered. And by and by Tom Porter went out, and meeting Dryden the poet, told him of the business, and that he was resolved to fight Sir H. Bellasses presently; for he knew, if he did not, they should be friends to-morrow, and then the blow would rest upon him; which he would prevent, and desired Dryden to let him have his boy to bring him notice which way Sir H. Bellasses goes. By and by he is informed that Sir H. Bellasses’s coach was coming: so Tom Porter went down out of the Coffee-house where he stayed for the tidings, and stopped the coach, and bade Sir H. Bellasses come out. “Why,” says H. Bellasses, “you will not hurt me coming out-will you?” “No,” says Tom Porter, So out he went, and both drew: and H. Bellasses having drawn and flung away his scabbard, Tom Porter asked him whether he was ready? The other answering him he was, they fell to fight, some of their acquaintance by. They wounded one another, and H. Bellasses so much that it is feared he will die: and finding himself severely wounded, he called to Tom Porter, and kissed him and bade him shift for himself; “for,” says he, “Tom, thou hast hurt me; but I will make shift to stand upon my legs till thou mayest withdraw, and the world not take notice of you, for I would not have thee troubled for what thou hast done.” And so whether he did fly or no I cannot tell; but Tom Porter showed H. Bellasses that he was wounded too: and they are both ill, but H. Bellasses to fear of life. And this is a fine example; and H. Bellasses a Parliament-man too, and both of them extraordinary friends! Among other discourse my cosen Roger told us a thing certain, that my Lady Castlemaine hath made a Bishop lately, namely, her uncle Dr. Glenham, [Henry Glenham, D.D., was Dean of Bristol, 1661; but, I believe, never raised to the Bench.] who, I think they say, is Bishop of Carlisle; a drunken, swearing rascal, and a scandal to the Church; and do now pretend to be Bishop of Lincoln, in competition with Dr. Raynbow, [Dr. Rainbow was Bishop of Carlisle from 1664 to 1684.] who is reckoned as worthy a man as most in the Church for piety and learning: which are things so scandalous to consider, that no man can doubt but we must be undone that hears of them. Cosen Roger did acquaint me in private with an offer made of his marrying of Mrs. Elizabeth Wiles, whom I know; a kinswoman of Mr. Honiwood’s, an ugly old maid, but good housewife, and is said to have 2500l. to her portion; though I am against it in my heart, she being not handsome at all: and it hath been the very bad fortune of the Pepyses that ever I knew, never to marry an handsome woman, excepting Ned Pepys. To White Hall; and looking out of the window into the garden, I saw the King (whom I have not had any desire to see since the Dutch came upon the coast first to Sheerness, for shame that; I should see him, or he me, methinks, after such a dishonour) come upon the garden; with him two or three idle Lords; and instantly after him, in another walk, my Lady Castlemaine, led by Bab. May: at which I was surprised, having but newly heard the stories of the King and her being parted for ever. So I took Mr. Povy, who was there, aside, and he told me all,–how imperious this woman is, and hectors the King to whatever she will. It seems she is with child, and the King says he did not get it: with that she made a slighting puh with her mouth, and went out of the house, and never came in again till the King went to Sir Daniel Harvy’s to pray her; and so she is come to-day, when one would think his mind should be full of some other cares, having but this morning broken up such a Parliament with so much discontent and so many wants upon him, and but yesterday heard such a sermon against adultery. But it seems she hath told the King, that whoever did get it, he should own it. And the bottom of the quarrel is this:–She is fallen in love with young Jermin, who hath of late been with her oftener than the King, and is now going to marry my Lady Falmouth; [Lady Falmouth married the Earl of Dorset.] the King is mad at her entertaining Jermin, and she is mad at Jermin’s going to marry from her: so they are all mad; and thus the kingdom is governed! But he tells me for certain that nothing is more sure than that the King, and Duke of York, and the Chancellor, are desirous and labouring all they can to get an army, whatever the King says to the Parliament; and he believes that they are at last resolved to stand and fall all three together: so that he says in terms that the match of the Duke of York with the Chancellor’s daughter hath undone the nation. He tells me also that the King hath not greater enemies in the world than those of his own family; for there is not an officer in the house almost but curses him for letting them starve, and there is not a farthing of money to be raised for the buying them bread.
30th. To the Treasury-chamber, where I did speak with the Lords. Here I do hear that there are three Lords more to be added to them; my Lord Bridgewater, my Lord Anglesy, and my Lord Chamberlaine. Mr. Cooling told as how the King, once speaking of the Duke of York’s being mastered by his wife, said to some of the company by, that he would go no more abroad with this Tom Otter (meaning the Duke of York) and his wife. [Vide the play of “Epicene, or the Silent Woman,” in which Mrs. Otter thus addresses her henpecked husband, THOMAS OTTER–“Is this according to the instrument when I married you, that I would be princess and reign in my own house, and you would be my subject, and obey me?”–ACT iii., SCENE 1.] Tom Killigrew being by, said, “Sir, pray which is the best for a man, to be a Tom Otter to his wife or to his mistress? meaning the King’s being so to my Lady Castlemaine.
31st. To Marrowbone, where my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, it seems, dined to-day; and were just now going away, methought, in a disconsolate condition, compared with their splendour they formerly had when the City was standing.
AUGUST 1, 1667. Home, the gates of the City shut, it being so late; and at Newgate we find them in trouble, some thieves having this night broke open prison.
3rd. To the office, there to enable myself, by finishing our great account, to give it to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury; which I did, and there was called in to them, to tell them only the total of our debt of the Navy on the 25th of May last, which is above 950,000l. Here I find them mighty hot in their answer to the Council-board about our Treasurer’s threepences of the Victualling, and also against the present farm of the Customes, which they do most highly inveigh against.
5th. I hear the ill news of our loss lately of four rich ships, two from Guinea, one from Gallipoly, all with rich oyles, and the other from Barbadoes, worth, as is guessed, 80,000l. But here is strong talk as if Harman had taken some of the Dutch East India ships, (but I dare not yet believe it,) and brought them into Lisbon. To the Duke of York’s house, and there saw “Love Trickes, or the School of Compliments;” [A comedy, by James Shirley.] a silly play, only Miss Davis, dancing in a shepherd’s clothes, did please us mightily.
6th. A full Board. Here, talking of news, my Lord Anglesy did tell us that the Dutch do make a further bogle with us about two or three things, which they will be satisfied in, he says, by us easily, but only in one, it seems, they do demand that we shall not interrupt their East Indiamen coming home, and of which they are in some fear; and we are full of hopes that we have light upon some of them and carried them into Lisbon by Harman; which God send! But they (which do show the low esteem they have of us) have the confidence to demand that we shall have a cessation on our parts, and yet they at liberty to take what they will; which is such an affront, as another cannot be devised greater.
7th. Though the King and my Lady Castlemaine are friends again, she is not at White Hall, but at Sir D. Harvy’s, whither the King goes to her; and he says she made him ask her forgiveness upon his knees and promised to offend her no more so: and that, indeed, she did threaten to bring all his bastards to his closet door, and hath nearly hectored him out of his wits.
8th. Sir Henry Bellasses is dead of the duell he fought about ten days ago with Tom Porter; and it is pretty to see how the world talk of them as of a couple of fools that killed one another out of love. I to my bookseller’s; where by and by I met Mr. Evelyn, and talked of several things, but particularly of the times: and he tells me that wise men do prepare to remove abroad what they have, for that we must be ruined, our case being past relief, the kingdom so much in debt, and the King minding nothing but his lust, going two days a-week to see my Lady Castlemaine at Sir D. Harvy’s.
9th. To St. James’s, and there met Sir W. Coventry; and he and I walked in the Park an hour. And then to his chamber, where he read to me the heads of the late great dispute between him and the rest of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and our new Treasurer of the Navy; where they have overthrown him the last Wednesday, in the great dispute touching his having the payment of the Victualler, which is now settled by Council that he is not to have it: and, indeed, they have been most just as well as most severe and bold in the doing this against a man of his quality: but I perceive he does really make no difference between any man. He tells me this day it is supposed the Peace is ratified at Bredah, and all that matter over. We did talk of many retrenchments of charge of the Navy which he will put in practice, and every where else; though, he tells me, he despairs of being able to do what ought to be done for the saving of the kingdom, (which I tell him, indeed, all the world is almost in hopes of, upon the proceeding of these gentlemen for the regulating of the Treasury,) it being so late, and our poverty grown so great, that they want where to set their feet to begin to do any thing. He tells me how weary he hath for this year and a half been of the warr; and how in the Duke of York’s bedchamber at Christ Church, at Oxford, when the Court was there, he did labour to persuade the Duke to fling off the care of the Navy, and get it committed to other hands; which, if he had done, would have been much to his honour, being just come home with so much honour from sea as he was. I took notice of the sharp letter he wrote (which he sent us to read) to Sir Edward Spragg, where he is very plain about his leaving his charge of the ships at Gravesend, when the enemy came last up, and several other things; a copy whereof I have kept. But it is done like a most worthy man; and he says it is good now and then to tell these gentlemen their duty, for they need it. And it seems, as he tells me, all our Knights are fallen out one with another, he and Jenings and Hollis, and (his words were) they are disputing which is the coward among them; and yet men that take the greatest liberty of censuring others! Here with him very late, till I could hardly get a coach or link willing to go through the ruines; but I do, but will not do it again, being indeed very dangerous.
10th. Sir John Denham’s Poems are going to be all printed together; and, among others, some new things; and among them he showed me a copy of verses of his upon Sir John Minnes’s going heretofore to Bullogne to eat a pig. Cowly, he tells me, is dead; who, it seems, was a mighty civil, serious man; which I did not know before.
11th. To the Wells at Barnett, by seven o’clock; and there found many people a-drinking; but the morning is a very cold morning, so as we were very cold all the way in the coach. And so to Hatfield, to the inn next my Lord Salisbury’s house; and there rested ourselves, and drank, and bespoke dinner: and so to church. In this church lies the former Lord of Salisbury (Cecil), buried in a noble tomb. Then we to our inn, and there dined very well, and mighty merry; and walked out into the Park through the fine walk of trees, and to the Vineyard, and there showed them that which is in good order, and indeed a place of great delight; which, together with our fine walk through the Park, was of as much pleasure as could be desired in the world for country pleasure and good ayre. Being come back and weary with the walk, the women had pleasure in putting on some straw- hats, which are much worn in this country, and did become them mightily but especially my wife.
12th. To my bookseller’s, and did buy Scott’s Discourse of Witches; and to hear Mr. Cowly mightily lamented (his death) by Dr. Ward, the Bishop of Winchester, and Dr. Bates, who were standing there, as the best poet of our nation, and as good a man.
13th. Attended the Duke of York, with our usual business; who upon occasion told us that he did expect this night or to-morrow to hear from Bredah of the consummation of the peace.
15th. Sir W. Pen and I to the Duke’s house; where a new play. The King and Court there: the house full, and an act begun. And so we went to the King’s, and there saw “The Merry Wives of Windsor;” which did not please me at all, in no part of it.
16th. My wife and I to the Duke’s playhouse, where we saw the new play acted yesterday, “The Feign Innocence, or Sir Martin Marall;” a play made by my Lord Duke of Newcastle, but, as every body says, corrected by Dryden. It is the most entire piece of mirth, a complete farce from one end to the other, that certainly was ever writ. I never laughed so in all my life, and at very good wit therein, not fooling. The House full, and in all things of mighty content to me. Every body wonders that we have no news from Bredah of the ratification of the peace; and do suspect that there is some stop in it.
17th. To the King’s playhouse, where the house extraordinary full; and there the King and Duke of York to see the new play, “Queene Elizabeth’s Troubles, and the history of Eighty Eight.” I confess I have sucked in so much of the sad story of Queene Elizabeth from my cradle, that I was ready to weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most ridiculous that sure ever came upon stage, and, indeed, is merely a show, only shows the true garbe of the Queene in those days, just as we see Queene Mary and Queene Elizabeth painted: but the play is merely a puppet play, acted by living puppets. Neither the design nor language better; and one stands by and tells us the meaning of things: only I was pleased to see Knipp dance among the milk maids, and to hear her sing a song to Queene Elizabeth; and to see her come out in her night-gowne with no lockes on, but her bare face and hair only tied up in a knot behind; which is the comeliest dress that ever I saw her in to her advantage.
18th. To Cree Church, to see it how it is; but I find no alteration there, as they say there was, for my Lord Mayor and Aldermen to come to sermon, as they do every Sunday, as they did formerly to Paul’s.
20th. Sir W. Coventry fell to discourse of retrenchments: and therein he tells how he would have but only one Clerk of the Acts. He do tell me he hath propounded how the charge of the Navy in peace shall come within 200,000l., by keeping out twenty- four ships in summer, and ten in the winter. And several other particulars we went over of retrenchment: and I find I must provide some things to offer, that I may be found studious to lessen the King’s charge. Sir W. Coventry did single Sir W. Pen and me, and desired us to lend the King some money, out of the prizes we have taken by Hogg. He did not much press it, and we made but a merry answer thereto: but I perceive he did ask it seriously, and did tell us that there never was so much need of it in the world as now, we being brought to the lowest straits that can be in the world.
22nd. Up, and to the office: whence Lord Brouncker, J. Minnes, and W. Pen, and I went to examine some men that are put in there for rescuing of men that were pressed into the service: and we do plainly see that the desperate condition that we put men into for want of their pay makes them mad, they being as good men as over were in the world, and would as readily serve the King again, were they but paid. Two men leapt overboard, among others, into the Thames out of the vessel into which they were pressed, and were shot by the soldiers placed there to keep them, two days since; so much people do avoid the King’s service! And then these men are pressed without money, and so we cannot punish them for any thing, so that we are forced only to make a show of severity by keeping them in prison, but are unable to punish them. [Shooting the men was rather more than a show of severity.] Returning to the office, I did ask whether we might visit Commissioner Pett (to which, I confess, I have no great mind); and it was answered that he was close prisoner, and we could not; but the Lieutenant of the Tower would send for him to his lodgings, if we would: so we put it off to another time. To Captain Cocke’s to dinner; where Lord Brouncker and his lady, Matt. Wren, and Bulteale, and Sir Allan Apsly; the last of whom did make good sport, he being already fallen under the retrenchments of the new Committee, as he is Master Falconer; which makes him mad. With my Lord Brouncker and his mistress to the King’s Playhouse, and there saw “The Indian Emperour:” [A tragi-comedy, by Dryden.] where I find Nell come again, which I am glad of; but was most infinitely displeased with her being put to act the Emperour’s daughter, which is a great and serious part, which she does most basely. This evening Mr. Pelling comes to me, and tells me that this night the Dutch letters are come, and that the peace was proclaimed there the 19th inst. and that all is finished: which for my life I know not whether to be glad or sorry for, a peace being so necessary, and yet so bad in its terms.
23rd. To White Hall to attend the Council. The King there: and it was about considering how the fleet might be discharged at their coming in shortly, the peace being now ratified, and it takes place on Monday next. To the Treasury-chamber, where I waited talking with Sir G. Downing till the Lords met. He tells me how he will make all the Exchequer officers, of one side and the other, to lend the King money upon the Act; and that the least Clerk shall lend money, and he believes the least will 100l.: but this I do not believe. He made me almost ashamed that we of the Navy had not in all this time lent any; so that I find it necessary I should, and so will speedily do it before any of my fellows begin and lead me to a bigger sum. By and by the Lords come; and I perceive Sir W. Coventry is the man, and nothing done till he comes. Among other things I heard him observe, looking over a paper, that Sir John Shaw is a miracle of a man, for he thinks he executes more places than any man in England: for there he finds him a Surveyor of some of the King’s woods, and so reckoned up many other places, the most inconsistent in the world. Their business with me was to consider how to assigne such of our commanders as will take assignements upon the Act for their wages; and the consideration thereof was referred to me to give them an answer the next sitting: which is a horrid poor thing; but they scruple at nothing of honour in the case. I find most people pleased with their being at ease, and safe of a peace, that they may know no more charge or hazard of an ill managed war; but nobody speaking of the peace with any content or pleasure, but are silent in it, as of a thing they are ashamed of; no, not at Court, much less in the City.
24th. St. Bartholomew’s Day. This morning was proclaimed the peace between us and the States of the United Provinces, and also of the King of France and Denmarke; and in the afternoon the Proclamations were printed and came out; and at night the bells rung, but no bonfires that I hear of any where, partly from the dearness of firing, but principally from the little content most people have in the peace. This day comes a letter from the Duke of York to the Board, to invite us, which is as much as to fright us, into the lending the King money; which is a poor thing, and most dishonourable, and shows in what a case we are at the end of the war to our neighbours. And the King do now declare publickly to give 10 per cent. to all lenders; which make some think that the Dutch themselves will send over money, and lend it upon our publick faith, the Act of Parliament.
28th. To the office, where we sat upon a particular business all the morning: and my Lord Anglesy with us; who, and my Lord Brouncker, do bring us news how my Lord Chancellor’s seal is to be taken away from him to-day. The thing is so great and sudden to me, that it put me into a very great admiration what should be the meaning of it; and they do not own that they know what it should be; but this is certain, that the King did resolve it on Saturday, and did yesterday send the Duke of Albemarle (the only man fit for those works) to him for his purse: to which the Chancellor answered, that he received it from the King, and would deliver it to the King’s own hand, and so civilly returned the Duke of Albemarle without it; and this morning my Lord Chancellor is to be with the King, to come to an end in the business. Dined at Sir W. Batten’s, where Mr. Boreman was, who came from White Hall; who tells us that he saw my Lord Chancellor come in his coach with some of his men, without his seal, to White Hall to his chamber; and thither the King and Duke of York came and staid together alone an hour or more: and it is said that the King do say that he will have the Parliament meet, and that it will prevent much trouble by having of him out of their enmity by his place being taken away; for that all their enmity will be at him. It is said also that my Lord Chancellor answers, that he desires he may be brought to his trial, if he have done anything to lose his office; and that he will be willing and is most desirous to lose that and his head both together. Upon what terms they parted nobody knows; but the Chancellor looked sad, he says. Then in comes Sir Richard Ford, and says he hears that there is nobody more presses to reconcile the King and Chancellor than the Duke of Albemarle and Duke of Buckingham: the latter of which is very strange, not only that he who was so lately his enemy should do it, but that this man, that but the other day was in danger of losing his own head, should so soon come to be a mediator for others: it shows a wise Government. They all say that he is but a poor man, not worth above 3000l. a-year in land; but this I cannot believe: and all do blame him for having built so great a house, till he had got a better estate. Sir W. Pen and I had a great deal of discourse with Mall; [Orange Moll, mentioned before.] who tells us that Nell is already left by Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes sport of her, and swears she hath had all she could get of him; and Hart [The celebrated actor.] her great admirer now hates her; and that she is very poor, and hath lost my Lady Castlemaine, who was her great friend also: but she is come to the playhouse, but is neglected by them all.
27th. To White Hall; and there hear how it is like to go well enough with my Lord Chancellor; that he is like to keep his Seal, desiring that he may stand his trial in Parliament, if they will accuse him of any thing. This day Mr. Pierce, the surgeon was with me; and tells me how this business of my Lord Chancellor’s was certainly designed in my Lady Castlemaine’s chamber; and that when he went from the King on Monday morning she was in bed (though about twelve o’clock), and ran out in her smock into her aviary looking into White Hall garden; and thither her woman brought; her her nightgown; and stood blessing herself at the old man’s going away: and several of the gallants of White Hall (of which there were many staying to see the Chancellor’s return) did talk to her in her bird-cage; among others Blancford, telling her she was the bird of passage.
28th. To White Hall: till past twelve in a crowd of people in the lobby, expecting the hearing of the great cause of Alderman Barker against my Lord Deputy of Ireland for his ill usage in his business of land there; but the King and Council sat so long as they neither heard them nor me. Went twice round Bartholomew fayre; which I was glad to see again, after two years missing it by the plague.
29th. I find at Sir G. Carteret’s that they do mightily joy themselves in the hopes of my Lord Chancellor’s getting over this trouble; and I make them believe (and so, indeed, I do believe he will) that my Lord Chancellor is become popular by it. I find by all hands that the Court is at this day all to pieces, every man of a faction of one sort or other, so as it is to be feared what it will come to. But that that pleases me is, I hear to-night that Mr. Brouncker is turned away yesterday by the Duke of York, for some bold words he was heard by Colonel Werden to say in the garden the day the Chancellor was with the King–that he believed the King would be hectored out of every thing. For this the Duke of York, who all say hath been very strong for his father-in-law at this trial, hath turned him away: and every body, I think, is glad of it; for he was a pestilent rogue, an atheist, that would have sold his King and country for 6d. almost, so corrupt and wicked a rogue he is by all men’s report. But one observed to me, that there never was the occasion of men’s holding their tongues at Court and every where else as there is at this day, for nobody knows which side will be uppermost.
30th. At White Hall I met with Sir G. Downing, who tells me of Sir W. Pen’s offering to lend 500l.; and I tell him of my 300l. which he would have me to lend upon the credit of the latter part of the Act; saying, that by that means my 10 per cent. will continue to me the longer. But I understand better, and will do it upon the 380,000l. which will come to be paid the sooner; there being no delight in lending money now, to be paid by the King two years hence. But here he and Sir William Doyly were attending the Council as Commissioners for sick and wounded, and prisoners: and they told me their business, which was to know how we shall do to release our prisoners; for it seems the Dutch have got us to agree in the treaty (as they fool us in any thing), that the dyet of the prisoners on both sides shall be paid for before they be released: which they have done, knowing ours to run high, they having more prisoners of ours than we have of theirs; so they are able and most ready to discharge the debt of theirs, but we are neither able nor willing to do that for ours, the debt of those in Zeland only amounting to above 5000l. for men taken in the King’s own ships, besides others taken in merchantmen, who expect, as is usual, that the King should redeem them; but I think he will not, by what Sir G. Downing says. This our prisoners complain of there; and say in their letters, which Sir G. Downing showed me, that they have made a good feat that they should be taken in the service of the King, and the King not pay for their victuals while prisoners for him. But so far they are from doing thus with their men as we do to discourage ours, that I find in the letters of some of our prisoners there, which he showed me, that they have with money got our men, that they took, to work: and carry their ships home for them; and they have been well rewarded, and released when they come into Holland: which is done like a noble, brave, and wise people. I to Bartholomew fayre to walk up and down; and there among other things find my Lady Castlemaine at a puppet-play (Patient Grizell), and the street full of people expecting her coming out. I confess I did wonder at her courage to come abroad, thinking the people would abuse her: but they, silly people! do not know the work she makes, and therefore suffered her with great respect to take coach, and she away without any trouble at all. Captain Cocke tells me that there is yet expectation that the Chancellor will lose the Seal; and assures me that there have been high words between the Duke of York and Sir W. Coventry, for his being so high against the Chancellor; so as the Duke of York would not sign some papers that he brought, saying that he could not endure the sight of him: and that Sir W. Coventry answered, that what he did was in obedience to the King’s commands; and that he did not think any man fit to serve a prince, that did not know how to retire and live a country life.
31st. At the office all the morning; where by Sir W. Pen I do hear that the Seal was fetched away to the King yesterday from the Lord Chancellor by Secretary Morrice; which puts me into a great horror. In the evening Mr. Ball of the Excise-office tells me that the Seal is delivered to Sir Orlando Bridgeman; the man of the whole nation that is the best spoken of, and will please most people; and therefore I am mighty glad of it. He was then at my Lord Arlington’s, whither I went, expecting to see him come out; but staid so long, and Sir W. Coventry coming there, whom I had not a mind should see me there idle upon a post-night, I went home without seeing him; but he is there with his Seal in his hand.
SEPTEMBER 1, 1667. Our new Lord-keeper Bridgeman, did this day, the first time, attend the King to chapel with his Seal. Sir H. Cholmly tells me there are hopes that the women also will have a rout, and particularly that my Lady Castlemaine is coming to a composition with the King to be gone; but how true this is, I know not, Blancfort is made Privy-purse to the Duke of York; the Attorney General is made Chief Justice in the room of my Lord Bridgeman; the Solicitor-general is made Attorney-general; and Sir Edward Turner made Solicitor-general. [According to Beatson, no change took place in these officers at this time.] It is pretty to see how strange every body looks, nobody knowing whence this arises ; whether from my Lady Castlemaine, Bab. May, and their faction; or from the Duke of York, notwithstanding his great appearing of defence of the Chancellor; or from Sir William Coventry, and some few with him. But greater changes are yet expected.
2nd. This day is kept in the City as a publick fast for the fire this day twelve months: but I was not at church, being commanded with the rest to attend the Duke of York; and therefore with Sir J. Minnes to St. James’s, where we had much business before the Duke of York, and observed all things to be very kind between the Duke of York and Sir W. Coventry; which did mightily joy me. When we had done, Sir W. Coventry called me down with him to his chamber, and there told me that he is leaving the Duke of York’s service; which I was amazed at. But he tells me that it is not with the least unkindness on the Duke of York’s side, though he expects (and I told him he was in the right) it will be interpreted otherwise, because done just at this time; “but,” says he, “I did desire it a good while since, and the Duke of York did with much entreaty grant it, desiring that I would say nothing of it, that he might have time and liberty to choose his successor, without being importuned for others whom he should not like:” and that he hath chosen Mr. Wren, which I am glad of, he being a very ingenious man; and so Sir W. Coventry says of him, though he knows him little; but particularly commends him for the book he writ in answer to “Harrington’s Oceana,” which for that reason I intend to buy. He tells me the true reason is, that he being a man not willing to undertake more business than he can go through, and being desirous to have his whole time to spend upon the business of the Treasury, and a little for his own ease, he did desire this of the Duke of York. He assures me that the kindness with which he goes away from the Duke of York, is one of the greatest joys that ever he had in the world. I used some freedom with him, telling him how the world hath discoursed of his having offended the Duke of York, about the late business of the Chancellor. He does not deny it, but says that perhaps the Duke of York might have some reason for it, he opposing him in a thing wherein he was so earnest: but tells me, that notwithstanding all that, the Duke of York does not now, nor can blame him; for he was the man that did propose the removal of the Chancellor; and that he did still persist in it, and at this day publickly owns it, and is glad of it: but that the Duke of York knows that he did first speak of it to the Duke of York before he spoke to any mortal creature besides, which was fair dealing: and the Duke of York was then of the same mind with him, and did speak of it to the King, though since, for reasons best known to himself, he afterwards altered. I did then desire to know, what was the great matter that grounded his desire of the Chancellor’s removal? He told me many things not fit to be spoken, and yet not any thing of his being unfaithful to the King, but, INSTAR OMNIUM, he told me that while he was so great at the Council- board, and in the administration of matters, there was no room for any body to propose any remedy to what was amiss, or to compass any thing, though never so good, for the kingdom, unless approved of by the Chancellor, he managing all things with that greatness, which now will be removed, that the King may have the benefit of others’ advice. I then told him that the world hath an opinion that he hath joined himself with my Lady Castlemaine’s faction: but in this business, he told me, he cannot help it, but says they are in an errour; for he will never while he lives, truckle under any body or any faction, but do just as his own reason and judgment directs; and when he cannot use that freedom, he will have nothing to do in public affairs: but then he added that he never was the man that ever had any discourse with my Lady Castlemaine, or with others from her, about this or any public business, or ever made her a visit, or at least not this twelve-month, or been in her lodgings but when called on any business to attend the King there, nor hath had any thing to do in knowing her mind in this business. He ended all with telling me that he knows that he that serves a prince must expect and be contented to stand all fortunes, and be provided to retreat; and that he is most willing to do whatever the King shall please. And so we parted, he setting me down out of his coach at Charing Cross, and desired me to tell Sir W. Pen what he had told me of his leaving the Duke of York’s service, that his friends might not be the last that know it. I took a coach and went homewards; but then turned again, and to White Hall, where I met with many people; and among other things do learn that there is some fear that Mr. Brouncker is got into the King’s favour, and will be cherished there; which will breed ill will between the King and Duke of York, he lodging at this time in White Hall since he was put away from the Duke of York; and he is great with Bab. May, my Lady Castlemaine, and that wicked crew. But I find this denied by Sir G. Carteret, who tells me that he is sure he hath no kindness from the King; that the King at first, indeed, did endeavour to persuade the Duke of York from putting him away; but when, besides this business of his ill words concerning his Majesty in the business of the Chancellor, he told him that he hath had a long time a mind to put him away for his ill offices, done between him and his wife, the King held his peace, and said no more, but wished him to do what he pleased with him; which was very noble. I met with Fenn; and he tells me, as I do hear from some others, that the business of the Chancellor’s had proceeded from something of a mistake, for the Duke of York did first tell the King that the Chancellor had a desire to be eased of his great trouble: and that the King, when the Chancellor came to him, did wonder to hear him deny it, and the Duke of York was forced to deny to the King that ever he did tell him so in those terms: but the King did answer that he was sure that he did say some such things to him; but, however, since it had gone so far, did desire him to be contented with it; as a thing very convenient for him as well as for himself (the King:) and so matters proceeded, as we find. Now it is likely the Chancellor might some time or other, in a compliment or vanity, say to the Duke of York, that he was weary of this burden, and I know not what; and this comes of it. Some people, and myself among them, are of good hope from this change that things are reforming; but there are others that do think it is a bit of chance, as all other our greatest matters are, and that there is no general plot or contrivance in any number of people what to do next, (though, I believe, Sir W. Coventry may in himself have further designs;) and so that though other changes may come, yet they shall be accidental and laid upon good principles of doing good. Mr. May showed me the King’s new buildings, in order to their having of some old sails for the closing of the windows this winter. I dined with Sir G. Carteret, with whom dined Mr. Jack Ashburnham and Dr. Creeton, who I observe to be a most good man and scholar. In discourse at dinner concerning the change of men’s humours and fashions touching meats, Mr. Asburnham told us, that he remembers since the only fruit in request, and eaten by the King and Queene at table as the best fruit, was the Katharine payre, though they knew at the time other fruits of France and our own country. After dinner comes in Mr. Townsend: and there I was witness of a horrid rateing which Mr. Ashburnham, as one of the Grooms of the King’s Bedchamber, did give him for want of linen for the King’s person; which he swore was not to be endured, and that the King would not endure it, and that the King his father would have hanged his Wardrobe-man should he have been served so; the King having at this day no hankerchers, and but three bands to his neck, he swore. Mr. Townsend pleaded want of money and the owing of the linendraper 5000l.; and that he hath of late got many rich things made, beds and sheets and saddles, without money; and that he can go no further: but still this old man (indeed like an old loving servant) did cry out for the King’s person to be neglected. But when he was gone, Townsend told me that it is the Grooms taking away the King’s linen at the quarter’s end, as their fees, which makes this great want; for whether the King can get it or no, they will run away at the quarter’s end with what he hath had, let the King get more as he can. All the company gone, Sir G. Carteret and I to talk: and it is pretty to observe how already he says that he did always look upon the Chancellor indeed as his friend, though he never did do him any service at all, nor ever got any thing by, nor was a man apt (and that, I think, is true) to do any man any kindness of his own nature; though I do know he was believed by all the world to be the greatest support of Sir G. Carteret with the King of any man in England: but so little is now made of it! He observes that my Lord Sandwich will lose a great friend in him; and I think so too, my Lord Hinchingbroke being about a match calculated purely out of respect to my Lord Chancellor’s family. By and by Sir G. Carteret, and Townsend, and I to consider of an answer to the Commissioners of the Treasury about my Lord Sandwich’s profits in the Wardrobe; which seem as we make them to be very small, not 1000l. a-year, but only the difference in measure at which he buys and delivers out to the King, and then 6d. in the pound from the tradesman for what money he receives for him; but this, it is believed, these Commissioners will endeavour to take away. From him I went to see a great match at tennis, between Prince Rupert and one Captain Cooke against Bab. May and the elder Chichly; where the King was, and Court; and it seems they are the best players at tennis in the nation. But this puts me in mind of what I observed in the morning, that the King playing at tennis had a steele-yard carried to him; and I was told it was to weigh him after he had done playing; and at noon Mr. Ashburnham told me that it is only the King’s curiosity, which he usually hath of weighing himself before and after his play, to see how much he loses in weight by playing; and this day he lost 4 1/2lbs. I to Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Pen, and there discoursed of Sir W. Coventry’s leaving the Duke of York, and Mr. Wren’s succeeding him. They told me both seriously that they had long cut me out for Secretary to the Duke of York, if ever Sir W. Coventry left him; which agreeing with what I have heard from other hands heretofore, do make me not only think that something of that kind hath been thought on, but do comfort me to see that the world hath such an esteem of my qualities as to think me fit for any such thing: though I am glad with all my heart that I am not so; for it would never please me to be forced to the attendance that that would require, and leave my wife and family to themselves, as I must do in such a case; thinking myself now in the best place that ever man was in to please his own mind in, and therefore I will take to preserve it.
3rd. Attended the Duke of York about the list of ships that we propose to sell: and here there attended Mr. Wren the first time, who hath not yet, I think, received the Duke of York’s seal and papers. At our coming hither we found the Duke and Duchesse all alone at dinner, methought melancholy: or else I thought so, from the late occasion of the Chancellor’s fall, who, they say, however, takes it very contentedly.
4th. By coach to White Hall to the Council-chamber; and there met with Sir W. Coventry going in, who took me aside, and told me that he was just come from delivering up his seal and papers to Mr. Wren; and told me he must now take his leave of me as a naval man, but that he shall always bear respect to his friends there, [The officers of the Navy.] and particularly to myself with great kindness; which I returned to him with thanks, and so with much kindness parted; and he into the Council. Staid and heard Alderman Barker’s case of his being abused by the Council of Ireland, touching his lands there. All I observed there is the silliness of the King, playing with his dog all the while, and not minding the business; and what he said was mighty weak: but my Lord Keeper I observed to be a mighty able man. To the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw “Mustapha;” which the more I see the more I like; and is a most admirable poem, and bravely acted; only both Betterton and Harris could not contain from laughing in the midst of a most serious part, from the ridiculous mistake of one of the men upon the stage; which I did not like. This morning was told by Sir W. Batten that he do hear from Mr. Grey, who hath good intelligence, that our Queene is to go into a nunnery there to spend her days; and that my Lady Castlemaine is going to France, and is to have a pension of 4000l. a-year. This latter I do more believe than the other, it being very wise in her to do it and save all she hath, besides easing the King and kingdom of a burden and reproach.
8th. Lord Brouncker says he do believe that my Lady Castlemaine is compounding with the King for a pension, and to leave the Court; but that her demands are mighty high: but he believes the King is resolved, and so do everybody else I speak with, to do all possible to please the Parliament; and he do declare that he will deliver every body up to give an account of their actions: and that last Friday, it seems, there was an Act of Council passed, to put out all Papists in office, and to keep out any from coming in. Sir G. Downing told he had been seven years finding out a man that could dress English sheep-akin as it should be; and indeed it is now as good in all respects as kidd; and, he says, will save 100,000l. a-year that goes out to France for kidds’-skins. He tells me that at this day the King in familiar talk do call the Chancellor “the insolent man,” and says that he would not let him speak himself in Council: which is very high, and do show that the Chancellor is like to be in a bad state, unless he can defend himself better than people think. And yet Creed tells me that he do hear that my Lord Cornbury [Henry, afterwards second Earl of Clarendon.] do say that his father do long for the coming of the Parliament, in order to his own vindication, more than any one of his enemies. And here it comes into my head to set down what Mr. Rawlinson (whom I met in Fenchurch-street on Friday last looking over his ruines there) told me that he was told by one of my Lord Chancellor’s gentlemen lately, that a grant coming to him to be sealed, wherein the King hath given my Lady Castlemaine, or somebody by her means, a place which he did not like well of, he did stop the grant; saying, that he thought this woman would sell every thing shortly: which she hearing of, she sent to let him know that she had disposed of this place, and did not doubt in a little time to dispose of his. To White Hall, and saw the King and Queene at dinner; and observed (which I never did before) the formality, but it is but a formality, of putting a bit of bread wiped upon each dish into the mouth of every man that brings a dish; but it should be in the sauce. Here were some Russes come to see the King at dinner; among others the interpreter, a comely Englishman, in the Envoy’s own clothes; which the Envoy, it seems, in vanity did send to show his fine clothes upon this man’s back, he being one, it seems, of a comelier presence than himself: and yet it is said that none of their clothes are their own, but taken out of the King’s own Wardrobe; and which they dare not bring back dirty or spotted, but clean, or are in danger of being beaten, as they say: inasmuch that, Sir Charles Cotterell [Knight, and Master of the Ceremonies from 1641 to 1686, when he resigned in favour of his son.] says, when they are to have an audience they never venture to put on their clothes till he appears to come and fetch them; and as soon as ever they come home, put them off again. I to Sir G. Carteret’s to dinner; where Mr. Cofferer Ashburnham; who told a good story of a prisoner’s being condemned at Salisbury for a small matter. While he was on the bench with his father-in-law Judge Richardson, [Sir Thomas Richardson, Knight; appointed Chief Justice of the Common Pleas 1626.] and while they were considering to transport him to save his life, the fellow flung a great stone at the Judge, that missed him, but broke through the wainscoat. Upon this he had his hand cut off, and was hanged presently. [This anecdote is thus confirmed in Chief Justice Treby’s NOTES TO DYER’S REPORTS, FOLIO EDITION, p.188. b. “Richardson, Ch. Just. de C. Banc. al Assises at Salisbury, in summer 1631, fuit assault per prisoner la condemne pur felony; que puis son condemnation ject un brick-bat a le dit Justice, qui narrowly mist; et pur ceo immediately fuit indictment drawn, per Noy, [The Attorney-General.] eavers le prisoner, et son dexter manus ampute, and fix at gibbet, sur que luy meme immediatement hange in presence de Court.”]
9th. To White Hall; and here do hear, by Tom Killigrew and Mr. Progers, that for certain news is come of Harman’s having spoiled nineteen of twenty-two French ships, somewhere about the Barbadoes, I think they said; but wherever it is, it is a good service and very welcome. To the Bear-garden, where now the yard was full of people, and those most of them seamen, striving by force to get in. I got into the common pit; and there, with my cloak about my face, I stood and saw the prize fought, till one of them, a shoemaker, was so cut in both his wrists that he could not fight any longer, and then they broke off: his enemy was a butcher. The sport very good, and various humours to be seen among the rabble that is there.
10th. To St. James’s, where we all met and did our usual weekly business with the Duke of York. But, Lord! methinks both he and we are mighty flat and dull to what we used to be when Sir W. Coventry was among us. Met Mr. Povy; and he and I to walk an hour or more in the Pell Mell, talking of the times. He tells me among other things, that this business of the Chancellor do breed a kind of inward distance between the King and the Duke of York, and that it cannot be avoided; for though the latter did at first move it through his folly, yet he is made to see that he is wounded by it, and is become much a less man than be was, and so will be: but he tells me that they are, and have always been, great dissemblers one towards another; and that their parting heretofore in France is never to be thoroughly reconciled between them. He tells me that he believes there is no such thing likely to be as a composition with my Lady Castlemaine, and that she shall be got out of the way before the Parliament comes; for he says she is high as ever she was, though he believes the King is as weary of her as is possible; and would give any thing to remove her, but he is so weak in his passion that he dare not do it: that he do believe that my Lord Chancellor will be doing some acts in the Parliament which shall render him popular; and that there are many people now do speak kindly of him that did not before; but that if he do do this, it must provoke the King and that party that removed him. He seems to doubt what the King of France will do, in case an accommodation shall be made between Spain and him for Flanders, for then he will have nothing more easy to do with his army than to subdue us.
11th. Come to dine with me Sir W. Batten and his lady, and Mr. Griffith their Ward, and Sir W. Pen and his lady, and Mrs. Lowther, (who is grown either through pride or want of manners a fool, having not a word to say; and, as a further mark of a beggarly proud fool, hath a bracelet of diamonds and rubies about her wrist, and a sixpenny necklace about her neck, and not one good rag of clothes upon her back;) and Sir John Chichly in their company, and Mr. Turner. Here I had an extraordinary good and handsome dinner for them, better than any of them deserve or understand (saving Sir John Chichly and Mrs. Turner.) To the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw part of the “Ungrateful Lovers;” and sat by Beck Marshall, whose hand is very handsome. Here came Mr. Moore, and sat and discoursed with me of public matters: the sum of which is, that he do doubt that there is more at the bottom than the removal of the Chancellor; that is, he do verily believe that the King do resolve to declare the Duke of Monmouth legitimate, and that we shall soon see if. This I do not think the Duke of York will endure without blows; but his poverty, and being lessened by having the Chancellor fallen and Sir W. Coventry gone from him, will disable him from being able to do any thing almost, he being himself almost lost in the esteem of people; and will be more and more, unless my Lord Chancellor (who is already begun to be pitied by some people, and to be better thought of than was expected) do recover himself in Parliament. He do say that that is very true, that my Lord Chancellor did lately make some stop of some grants of 2000l. a-year to my Lord Grandison, [George Villiers, fourth Viscount Grandison, and younger brother of Lady Castlemaine’s father, who had died without male issue.] which was only in his name, for the use of my Lady Castlemaine’s children; and that this did incense her, and she did speak very scornful words and sent a scornful message to him about it.
14th. The King and Duke of York and the whole Court is mighty joyful at the Duchesse of York’s being brought to bed this day, or yesterday, of a son; which will settle men’s minds mightily. And Pierce tells me that he do think that what the King do, of giving the Duke of Monmouth the command of his Guards, and giving my Lord Gerard 12,000l. for it, is merely to find an employment for him upon which he may live, and not out of any design to bring him into any title to the Crowne; which Mr. Moore did the other day put me into great fear of. To the King’s playhouse to see “The Northerne Castle,” which I think I never did see, before. Knipp acted is it, and did her part very extraordinary well; but the play is but a mean, sorry play. Sir H. Cholmly was with me a good while; who tells me that the Duke of York’s child is christened, the Duke of Albemarle and the Marquis of Worcester [Edward, second Marquis of Worcester, author of “The Century of Inventions.”] godfathers, and my Lady Suffolke godmother; and they have named it Edgar, which is a brave name. But it seems they are more joyful in the Chancellor’s family, at the birth of this Prince, than in wisdom they should, for fear it should give the King cause of jealousy. Sir H. Cholmly thinks there may possibly be some persons that would be glad to have the Queene removed to some monastery, or somewhere or other, to make room for a new wife; for they will all be unsafe under the Duke of York. He says the King and Parliament will agree; that is, that the King will do any thing that they will have him. I met with “a fourth Advice to the Painter upon the coming in of the Dutch to the River and end of the war,” [In the Collection of Poems on Affairs of State, there are four pieces called “DIRECTIONS TO A PAINTER;” the first of them “CONCERNING THE DUTCH WAR, 1667, BY SIR JOHN DENHAM.” The same book also contains “THE LAST INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER ABOUT THE DUTCH WARS, BY ANDREW MARVEL, ESQ.,” which from its severity I suppose to be the work here alluded to.] that made my heart ake to read, it being too sharp and so true. Here I also saw a printed account of the examinations taken touching the burning of the City of London, showing the plot of the Papists therein; which, it seems, hath been ordered to be burnt by the hands of the common hangman, in Westminster Palace. My wife and Mercer and I away to the King’s playhouse, to see “The Scornfull Lady;” but it being now three o’clock there was not one soul in the pit; whereupon, for shame we could not go in, but, against our wills, went all to see “Tu quoque” again, where there was pretty store of company. Here we saw Madam Morland, [Sir Samuel Morland’s first wife.] who is grown mighty fat, but is very comely. Thence to the King’s house, upon a wager of mine with my wife that there would be no acting there to-day there being no company: so I went in and found a pretty good company there, and saw their dance at the end of the play.
18th. I walked in the Exchange; which is now made mighty pretty, by having windows and doors before all their shops, to keep out the cold.
20th. By coach to the King’s playhouse, and there saw, “The Mad Couple,” [Probably “A Mad Couple well Matched” a comedy by Richard Brome, printed in 1653.] my wife having been at the same play with Jane in the 18d. seat.
21st. The King, Duke of York, and the men of the Court have been these four or five days a-hunting at Bagshot.
22nd. At noon comes Mr. Sheres, whom I find a good, ingenious man, but do talk a little too much of his travels. He left my Lord Sandwich well, but in pain to be at home for want of money, which comes very hardly. I have indulged myself more in pleasure for these last two months than ever I did in my life before, since I came to be a person concerned in business; and I doubt, when I come to make up my accounts, I shall find it so by the expence.
23rd. At my Lord Ashly’s by invitation to dine there. At table it is worth remembering that my Lord tells us that the House of Lords is the last appeal that a man can make upon a point of interpretation of the law, and that therein they are above the Judges; and that he did assert this in the Lords’ House upon the late occasion of the quarrel between my Lord Bristoll and the Chancellor, when the former did accuse the latter of treason, and the Judges did bring it in not to be treason: my Lord Ashly did declare that the judgement of the Judges was nothing in the presence of their Lordships, but only as far as they were the properest men to bring precedents; but not to interpret the law to their Lordships, but only the inducements of their persuasions: and this the Lords did concur in. Another pretty thing was my Lady Ashly’s speaking of the bad Qualities of glass- coaches; among others, the flying open of the doors upon any great shake: but another was, that my Lady Peterborough being in her glass-coach with the glass up, and seeing a lady pass by in a coach whom she would salute, the glass was so clear that she thought it had been open, and so ran her head through the glass! We were put into my Lord’s room before he could come to us, and there had opportunity to look over his state of his accounts of the prizes; and there saw how bountiful the King hath been to several people: and hardly any man almost, commander of the Navy of any note, but hath had some reward or other out of them; and many sums to the Privy-purse, but not so many, I see, as I thought there had been: but we could not look quite through it, But several Bed-chambermen and people about the Court had good sums; and, among others, Sir John Minnes and Lord Brouncker have 200l. a-piece for looking to the East India prizes, while I did their work for them. By and by my Lord came, and we did look over Yeabsly’s business a little; and I find how prettily this cunning lord can be partial and dissemble it in this case, being privy to the bribe he is to receive. With Sir H. Cholmly to Westminster; who by the way told me how merry the King and Duke of York and Court were the other day, when they were abroad a- hunting. They came to Sir G. Carteret’s house at Cranbourne, and there were entertained, and all made drunk; and being all drunk, Armerer did come to the King, and swore to him by God, “Sir,” says he, “you are not so kind to the Duke of York of late as you used to be.”–“Not I?” says the King. “Why so?” “Why,” says he, “if you are, let us drink his health.” “Why let us,” says the King. Then he fell on his knees and drank it; and having done, the King began to drink it. “Nay, Sir,” says Armerer, by God you must do it on your knees!” So he did, and then all the company: and having done it, all fell a-crying for joy, being all maudlin and kissing one another, the King the Duke of York, and the Duke of York the King; and in such a maudlin pickle as never people were: and so passed the day. But Sir H. Cholmly tells me, that the King hath this good luck: that the next day he hates to have any body mention what he had done the day before, nor will suffer any body to gain upon him that way; which is a good quality. By and by comes Captain Cocke about business; who tells me that Mr. Brouncker is lost for ever, notwithstanding that my Lord Brouncker hath advised with him (Cocke) how he might make a peace with the Duke of York and Chancellor, upon promise of serving him in the Parliament: but Cocke says that is base to offer, and will have no success there. He says that Mr. Wren hath refused a present of Tom Wilson’s for his place of Store- keeper at Chatham, and is resolved never to take any thing: which is both wise in him, and good to the King’s service.
25th. With Sir H. Cholmly (who came to me about his business) to White Hall: and thither came also my Lord Brouncker. And we by and by called in, and our paper read; and much discourse thereon by Sir G. Carteret, my Lord Anglesy, Sir W. Coventry, and my Lord Ashly, and myself: but I could easily discern that they none of them understood the business; and the King at last ended it with saying lazily, “Why,” says he, “after all this discourse I now come to understand it; and that is, that there can nothing be done in this more than is possible,” (which was so silly as I never heard): “and therefore,” says he, “I would have these gentlemen do as much as possible to hasten the Treasurer’s accounts; and that is all.” And so we broke up: and I confess I went away ashamed, to see how slightly things are advised upon there. Here I saw the Duke of Buckingham sit in Council again, where he was re-admitted, it seems, the last Council-day: and it is wonderful to see how this man is come again to his places, all of them, after the reproach and disgrace done him; so that things are done in a most foolish manner quite through. The Duke of Buckingham did second Sir W. Coventry in the advising the King that he would not concern himself in the evening or not evening any man’s accounts, or any thing else, wherein he had not the same satisfaction that would satisfy the Parliament; saying, that nothing would displease the Parliament; more than to find him defending any thing that is not right nor justifiable to the utmost degree: but methought he spoke it but very poorly. After this I walked up and down the Gallery till noon: and here I met with Bishop Fuller, who, to my great joy, is made (which I did not hear before) Bishop of Lincolne. At noon I took coach, and to Sir G. Carteret’s in Lincoln’s-inn-fields, to the house that is my Lord’s, which my Lord lets him have: and this is the first day of dining there. And there dined with him and his lady my Lord Privy-seale, [John Lord Roberts, afterwards Earl of Radnor, filled this office from 1661 to 1669.] who is indeed a very sober man: who, among other talk, did mightily wonder at the reason of the growth of the credit of bankers, (since it is so ordinary a thing for citizens to break out of knavery.) Upon this we had much discourse; and I observed therein, to the honour of this City, that I have not heard of one citizen of London broke in all this war, this plague, or this fire, and this coming up of the enemy among us; which he owned to be very considerable. I to the King’s playhouse, my eyes being so bad since last night’s straining of them that I am hardly able to see, besides the pain which I have in them. The play was a new play: and infinitely full; the King and all the Court almost there. It is “The Storme,” a play of Fletcher’s; which is but so-so, methinks; only there is a most admirable dance at the end, of the ladies, in a military manner, which indeed did please me mightily.
27th. Creed and Sheres come and dined with me; and we had a great deal of pretty discourse of the ceremoniousness of the Spaniards, whose ceremonies are so many and so known, that, he tells me, upon all occasions of joy or sorrow in a Grandee’s family, my Lord Embassador is fain to send one with EN HORA BUENA (if it be upon a marriage or birth of a child), or a PESA ME, if it be upon the death of a child, or so. And these ceremonies are so set, and the words of the compliment, that he hath been sent from my Lord when he hath done no more than send in word to the Grandee that one was there from the Embassador; and he knowing what was his errand, that hath been enough, and he never spoken with him; nay, several Grandees having been to marry a daughter, have wrote letters to my Lord to give him notice, and out of the greatness of his wisdom to desire his advice, though people he never saw; and then my Lord he answers by commending the greatness of his discretion in making so good an alliance, &c. and so ends. He says that it is so far from dishonour to a man to give private revenge for an affront, that the contrary is a disgrace; they holding that he that receives an affront is not fit to appear in the sight of the world till he hath revenged himself; and therefore, that a gentleman there that receives an affront oftentimes never appears again in the world till he hath, by some private way or other, revenged himself: and that, on this account, several have followed their enemies privately to the Indys, thence to Italy, thence to France and back again, waiting for an opportunity to be revenged. He says my Lord was fain to keep a letter from the Duke of York to the Queene of Spain a great while in his hands, before he could think fit to deliver it, till he had learnt whether the Queene could receive it, it being directed to his cosen. He says that many ladies in Spain, after they are found to be with child, do never stir out of their beds or chambers till they are brought to bed: so ceremonious they are in that point also. He tells me of their wooing by serenades at the window, and that their friends do always make the match; but yet they have opportunities to meet at masse at church, and there they make love: that the Court there hath no dancing nor visits at night to see the King or Queene, but is always just like a cloyster, nobody stirring in it; that my Lord Sandwich wears a beard now, turned up in the Spanish manner. But that which pleases me most indeed is, that the peace which he hath made with Spain is now printed here, and is acknowledged by all the merchants to be the best peace that ever England had with them; and it appears that the King thinks it so, for this is printed before the ratification is gone over: whereas what with France and Holland was not in a good while after, till copys came over of it in English out of Holland and France, that it was a reproach not to have it printed here. This I am mighty glad of; and is the first and only piece of good news, or thing fit to be owned, that this nation hath done several years.
28th. All the morning at the office busy upon an Order of Council, wherein they are mightily at a loss what to advise about our discharging of seamen by ticket, there being no money to pay their wages before January. After dinner comes Sir Fr. Hollis to me about business; and I with him by coach to the Temple, and there I light; all the way he telling me romantic lies of himself and his family, how they have been Parliament-men for Grimsby, he and his forefathers, this 140 years; and his father is now: and himself, at this day, stands for to be with his father, [Jervas Hollis and Sir Frecheville Hollis represented Grimsby in 1669. –CHAMBERLAYNES’S ANTIQUAE NOTITIA.] by the death of his fellow burgess; and that he believes it will cost him as much as it did his predecessor, which was 300l. in ale, and 52l. in buttered ale; which I believe is one of his devilish lies.
30th. To the Duke of York to Council, where the officers of the Navy did attend; and my Lord Ashly did move that an assignment for money on the Act might be put into the hands of the East India Company, or City of London, which he thought the seamen would believe. But this my Lord Anglesy did very handsomely oppose, and I think did carry it that it will not be: and it is indeed a mean thing that the king should so far own his own want of credit as to borrow theirs in this manner. My Lord Anglesy told him that this was the way indeed to teach the Parliament to trust the King no more for the time to come, but to have a kingdom’s Treasurer distinct from the King’s.
October 1. To White Hall; and there in the Boarded Gallery did hear the musick with which the King is presented this night by Monsieur Grebus, the Master of his Musick: both instrumental (I think twenty-four violins) and vocall: an English song upon Peace. But, God forgive me! I never was so little pleased with a concert of music in my life. The manner of setting of words and repeating them out of order, and that with a number of voices, makes me sick, the whole design of vocall musick; being lost by it. Here was a great press of people; but I did not see many pleased with it, only the instrumental musick he had brought by practice to play very just.
3rd. To St. James’s, where Sir W. Coventry took me into the Gallery and walked with me an hour, discoursing of Navy business, and with much kindness, to and confidence in me still; which I must endeavour to preserve, and will do. And, good man! all his care how to get the Navy paid off, and that all other things therein may go well. He gone, I thence to my Lady Peterborough, who sent for me: and with her an hour talking about her husband’s pension, and how she hath got an order for its being paid again; though I believe, for all that order, it will hardly be; but of that I said nothing; but her design is to get it paid again: and how to raise money upon it to clear it from the engagement which lies upon it to some citizens, who lent her husband money (without her knowledge) upon it, to vast loss. She intends to force them to take their money again, and release her husband of those hard terms. The woman is a very wise woman, and is very plain in telling me how her plate and jewels are at pawne for money, and how they are forced to live beyond their estate, and do get nothing by his being a courtier. The lady I pity, and her family.
4th. To my Lord Crewe’s, and there did stay with him an hour till almost night, discoursing about the ill state of my Lord Sandwich, that he can neither be got to be called home, nor money got to maintain him there; [In Spain.] which will ruin his family. And the truth is, he do almost deserve it, for by all relation he hath, in little more than a year and half, spent 20,000l. of the King’s money, and the best part of 10,000l. of his own; which is a most prodigious expence, more than ever Embassador spent there, and more than these Commissioners of the Treasury will or do allow. And they demand an account before they will give him any more money; which puts all his friends to a loss what to answer. But more money we must get him, or to be called home. I offer to speak to Sir W. Coventry about it; but my Lord will not advise to it, without consent of Sir G. Carteret.
5th. Up, and to the office; and there all the morning; none but my Lord Anglesy and myself. But much surprized with the news of the death of Sir W. Batten, who died this morning, having been but two days sick. Sir W. Pen and I did dispatch a letter this morning to Sir W. Coventry, to recommend Colonell Middleton, who we think a most honest and understanding man, and fit for that place. Sir G. Carteret did also come this morning, and walked with me in the garden; and concluded not to concern or have any advice made to Sir W. Coventry in behalf of my Lord Sandwich’s business: so I do rest satisfied, though I do think they are all mad, that they will judge Sir W. Coventry an enemy, when he is indeed no such man to any body, but is severe and just, as he ought to be, where he sees things ill done. To the King’s house; and there going in met with Knipp, and she took us up into the tireing-rooms; and to the women’s shift, where Nell was dressing herself, and was all unready, and is very pretty, prettier than I thought. And into the scene-room, and there sat down, and she gave us fruit: and here I read the questions to Knipp, while she answered me, through all her part of “Flora’s Figarys,” which was acted to-day. But, Lord! to see how they were both painted, would make a man mad, and did make me loath them; and what base company of men comes among them, and how lewdly they talk! And how poor the men are in clothes, and yet what a show they make on the stage by candle-light, is very observable. But to see how Nell cursed, for having so few people in the pit, was strange; the other house carrying away all the people at the new play, and is said now-a-days to have generally most company, as being better players. By and by into the pit, and there saw the play, which is pretty good.
7th. I and my wife, and Willet, [Mrs. Pepys’s maid.] set out in a coach I have hired with four horses; and W. Hewer and Murford rode by us on horse-back; and before night come to Bishop- Stafford. [Stortford.] Took coach to Audly-End, and did go all over the house and garden; and mighty merry we were. The house indeed do appear very fine, but not so fine as it hath heretofore to me; particularly the ceilings are not so good as I always took them to be, being nothing so well wrought as my Lord Chancellor’s are; and though the figure of the house without be very extraordinary good, yet the stayre-case is exceeding poor; and a great many pictures, and not one good one in the house but one of Harry the Eighth, done by Holben; and not one good suit of hangings in all the house, but all most ancient things, such as I would not give the hanging-upon in my house; and the other furniture, beds and other things, accordingly. Only the gallery is good, and above all things the cellars, where we went down and drank of much good liquor. And indeed the cellars are fine: and here my wife and I did sing to my great content. And then to the garden, and there eat many grapes, and took some with us: and so away thence exceeding well satisfied, though not to that degree that by my old esteem of the house I ought and did expect to have done, the situation of it not pleasing me. Thence away to Cambridge, and did take up at the Rose.
9th. Up, and got ready, and eat our breakfast; and then took coach; and the poor, as they did yesterday, did stand at the coach to have something given them, as they do to all great persons; and I did give them something: and the town musick did also come and play; but, Lord! what sad musick they made! So through the town, and observed at our College of Magdalene the posts new painted, and understand that the Vice Chancellor is there this year. And so away for Huntingdon; and come to Brampton at about noon, and there find my father and sister and brother all well: and up and down to see the garden with my father, and the house, and do altogether find it very pretty; and I bless God that I am like to have such a pretty place to retire to. After dinner I walked up to Hinchingbroke, where my Lady expected me; and there spent all the afternoon with her: the same most excellent, good, discreet lady that ever she was; and, among other things, is mightily pleased with the lady that is like to be her son Hinchingbroke’s wife. I am pleased with my Lady Paulina [A mistake for Lady Catherine, Lady Paulina being dead.] and Anne, who are both grown very proper ladies, and handsome enough. But I do find by my Lady that they are reduced to great straits for money, having been forced to sell her plate, 8 or 900l. worth; and she is now going to sell a suit of her best hangings, of which I could almost wish to buy a piece or two, if the pieces will be broke. But the house is most excellently furnished, and brave rooms and good pictures, so that it do please me infinitely beyond Audley End.
10th. Up, to walk up and down in the garden with my father, to talk of all our concernments: about a husband for my sister, whereof there is at present no appearance; but we must endeavour to find her one now, for she grows old and ugly. My father and I with a dark lantern, it being now night, into the garden with my wife, and there went about our great work to dig up my gold. But, Lord! what a tosse I was for some time in, that they could not justly tell where it was: but by and by poking with a spit we found it, and then begun with a spudd to lift up the ground. But, good God! to see how sillily they did it, not half a foot under ground, and in the sight of the world from a hundred places, if any body by accident were near hand, and within sight of a neighbour’s window: only my father says that he saw them all gone to church before he began the work, when he laid the money. But I was out of my wits almost, and the more from that, upon my lifting up the earth with the spudd, I did discern that I had scattered the pieces of gold round about the ground among the grass and loose earth: and taking up the iron head-pieces wherein they were put, I perceived the earth was got among the gold, and wet so that the bags were all rotten, and all the notes, that I could not tell what in the world to say to it, not knowing how to judge what was wanting or what had been lost by Gibson in his coming down: which, all put together, did make me mad; and at last I was forced to take up the head-pieces, dirt and all, and as many of the scattered pieces as I could with the dirt discern by candle light, and carry them up into my brother’s chamber, and there locke them up till I had eat a little supper: and then, all people going to bed, W. Hewer and I did all alone with several pails of water and besoms at last wash the dirt off the pieces, and parted the pieces and the dirt, and then began to tell them by a note which I had of the value of the whole (in my pocket.) And do find that there was short above a hundred pieces: which did make me mad; and considering that the neighbour’s house was so near that we could not possibly speak one to another in the garden at that place where the gold lay (especially my father being deaf) but they must know what we had been doing, I feared that they might in the night come and gather some pieces and prevent us the next morning; so W. Hewer and I out again about midnight (for it was now grown so late) and there by candle-light did make shift to gather forty-five pieces more. And so in and to cleanse them: and by this time it was past two in the morning; and so to bed, and there lay in some disquiet all night telling of the clock till it was day-light.
11th. And then W. Hewer and I, with pails and a sieve, did lock ourselves into the garden, and there gather all the earth about the place into pails, and then sift those pails in one of the summer-houses (just as they do for dyamonds in other parts of the world); and there to our great content did by nine o’clock make the last night’s forty-five up seventy-nine: so that we are come to about twenty or thirty of what I think the true number should be. So do leave my father to make a second examination of the dirt; and my mind at rest in it, being but an accident: and so give me some kind of content to remember how painful it is sometimes to keep money, as well as to get it, and how doubtful I was to keep it all night, and how to secure it to London. About ten o’clock took coach, my wife and I, and Willett, and W. Hewer, and Murford and Bowles (whom my Lady lent me to go along with me my journey, not telling her the reason, but it was only to secure my gold,) and my brother John on horseback; and with these four I thought myself pretty safe. My gold I put into a basket and set under one of the seats; and so my work every quarter of an hour was to look to see whether all was well; and I did ride in great fear all the day.
12th. By five o’clock got home, where I find all well; and did bring my gold to my heart’s content very safe, having not this day carried it in a basket, but in our hands: the girl took care of one, and my wife another bag, and I the rest, I being afraid of the bottom of the coach, lest it should break. At home we find that Sir W. Batten’s body was to-day carried from hence, with a hundred or two of coaches, to Walthamstow, and there buried, The Parliament met on Thursday last, and adjourned to Monday next. The King did make them a very kind speech, promising them to leave all to them to do, and call to account what and whom they pleased; and declared by my Lord Keeper how many (thirty-six) actes he had done since he saw them: among others, disbanding the army, and putting all Papists out of employment, and displacing persons that had managed their business ill. The Parliament is mightily pleased with the King’s speech, and voted giving him thanks for what he said and hath done; and among other things, would by name thank him for displacing my Lord Chancellor, for which a great many did speak in the House, but it was opposed by some, and particularly Harry Coventry, who got that it should be put to a Committee to consider what particulars to mention in their thanks to the King, saying that it was too soon to give thanks for the displacing of a man, before they knew or had examined what was the cause of his displacing. And so it rested: but this do show that they are and will be very high. And Mr. Pierce do tell me that he fears and do hear that it hath been said among them, that they will move for the calling my Lord Sandwich home, to bring him to account which do trouble me mightily, but I trust it will not be so. Anon comes home Sir W. Pen from the buriall; and he says that Lady Batten and her children-in-law are all broke in pieces, and that there is but 800l. found in the world of money; and is in great doubt what we shall do towards the doing ourselves right with them, about the prize money.
13th. To St. James’s; and there to the Duke of York’s chamber and there he was dressing; and many Lords and Parliament-men come to kiss his hands, they being newly come to town. And then the Duke of York did of himself call me to him and tell me that he had spoke to the King and that the King had granted me the ship asked for; and did moreover say that he was mightily pleased with my service, and that he would be willing to do any thing that was in his power for me: which he said with mighty kindness; which I did return him thanks for, and departed with mighty joy, more than I did expect. And so walked over the Park to White Hall, and then met Sir H. Cholmly who walked with me and told me most of the news: heard last night of the Parliament; and thinks they will do all things very well, only they will be revenged of my Lord Chancellor; and says however, that he thinks there will be but two things proved on him and that one is, that he may have said to the King and to others words to breed in the King an ill opinion of the Parliament–that they were factious, and that it was better to dissolve them: and this he thinks they will be able to prove; but what this will amount to, he knows not. And next, that he hath taken money for several bargains that have been made with the Crown; and did instance one that is already complained of: but there are so many more involved in it, that should they unravel things of this sort, every body almost will be more or less concerned. But these are the two great points which he thinks they will insist on, and prove against him.
14th. To Mr, Wren’s; and he told me that my business was done about my warrant on the Maybolt Galliott; which I did see, and thought it was not so full in the reciting of my services as the other was in that of Sir W. Pen’s; yet I was well pleased with it, and do intend to fetch it away anon. To visit Sir G. Carteret; and from him do understand that the King himself (but this he told me as a great secret) is satisfied that these thanks which he expects from the House, for the laying aside of my Lord Chancellor, are a thing irregular; but since it is come into the House, he do think it necessary to carry it on, and will have it, and hath made his mind known to be so to some of the House. But Sir G. Carteret do say he knows nothing of what my Lord Brouncker told us to-day, that the King was angry with the Duke of York yesterday, and advised him not to hinder what he had a mind to have done touching this business; which is news very bad, if true. He tells me also that the King will have the thanks of the House go on: and commends my Lord Keeper’s speech for all but what he was forced to say about the reason of the King’s sending away the House so soon the last time, when they were met.
16th. At home most of the morning with Sir H. Cholmly, about some accounts of his: and for news he tells me that the Commons and Lords have concurred, and delivered the King their thanks, among other things, for his removal of the Chancellor; who took their thanks very well, and, among other things, promised them (in these words) never in any degree to give the Chancellor any employment again. And he tells me that it is very true, he hath it from one that was by, that the King did give the Duke of York a sound reprimande; told him that he had lived with him with more kindness than ever any brother King lived with a brother, and that he lived as much like a monarch as himself, but advised him not to cross him in his designs about the Chancellor; in which the Duke of York do very wisely acquiesce, and will be quiet as