Produced by David Widger





                THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A. F.R.S.

            CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY

    TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SHORTHAND MANUSCRIPT IN THE PEPYSIAN LIBRARY
 MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE BY THE REV. MYNORS BRIGHT M.A. LATE FELLOW
                      AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE

                              (Unabridged)

                      WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE'S NOTES

                        EDITED WITH ADDITIONS BY

                        HENRY B. WHEATLEY F.S.A.

                          DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS.
                                AUGUST
                                 1667

August 1st.  Up, and all the morning at the office.  At noon my wife and I
dined at Sir W. Pen's, only with Mrs. Turner and her husband, on a damned
venison pasty, that stunk like a devil.  However, I did not know it till
dinner was done.  We had nothing but only this, and a leg of mutton, and a
pullet or two.  Mrs. Markham was here, with her great belly.  I was very
merry, and after dinner, upon a motion of the women, I was got to go to
the play with them-the first I have seen since before the Dutch coming
upon our coast, and so to the King's house, to see "The Custome of the
Country."  The house mighty empty--more than ever I saw it--and an ill
play.  After the play, we into the house, and spoke with Knipp, who went
abroad with us by coach to the Neat Houses in the way to Chelsy; and
there, in a box in a tree, we sat and sang, and talked and eat; my wife
out of humour, as she always is, when this woman is by. So, after it was
dark, we home.  Set Knepp down at home, who told us the story how Nell is
gone from the King's house, and is kept by my Lord Buckhurst.  Then we
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.  So we
through, and home; and our coachman was fain to drive hard from two or
three fellows, which he said were rogues, that he met at the end of
Blow-bladder Street, next Cheapside.  So set Mrs. Turner home, and then we
home, and I to the Office a little; and so home and to bed, my wife in an
ill humour still.

2nd.  Up, but before I rose my wife fell into angry discourse of my
kindness yesterday to Mrs. Knipp, and leading her, and sitting in the
coach hand in hand, and my arm about her middle, and in some bad words
reproached me with it.  I was troubled, but having much business in my
head and desirous of peace rose and did not provoke her.  So she up and
come to me and added more, and spoke basely of my father, who I perceive
did do something in the country, at her last being there, that did not
like her, but I would not enquire into anything, but let her talk, and
when ready away to the Office I went, where all the morning I was, only
Mr. Gawden come to me, and he and I home to my chamber, and there
reckoned, and there I received my profits for Tangier of him, and L250 on
my victualling score.  He is a most noble-minded man as ever I met with,
and seems to own himself much obliged to me, which I will labour to make
him; for he is a good man also: we talked on many good things relating to
the King's service, and, in fine, I had much matter of joy by this
morning's work, receiving above L400 of him, on one account or other; and
a promise that, though I lay down my victualling place, yet, as long as he
continues victualler, I shall be the better by him.  To the office again,
and there evened all our business with Mr. Kinaston about Colonel
Norwood's Bill of Exchange from Tangier, and I am glad of it, for though
he be a good man, yet his importunity tries me.  So home to dinner, where
Mr. Hater with me and W. Hewer, because of their being in the way after
dinner, and so to the office after dinner, where and with my Lord Bruneker
at his lodgings all the afternoon and evening making up our great account
for the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, but not so as pleased me yet.
So at 12 at night home to supper and to bed, my wife being gone in an ill
humour to bed before me.  This noon my wife comes to me alone, and tells
me she had those upon her and bid me remember it.  I asked her why, and
she said she had a reason.  I do think by something too she said to-day,
that she took notice that I had not lain with her this half-year, that she
thinks that I have some doubt that she might be with child by somebody
else.  Which God knows never entered into my head, or whether my father
observed any thing at Brampton with Coleman I know not.  But I do not do
well to let these beginnings of discontents take so much root between us.

3rd.  Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning.  Then at noon to
dinner, and to the office again, 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 L950,000.
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. So home
again by coach, and there hard to work till very late and my eyes began to
fail me, which now upon very little overworking them they do, which
grieves me much.  Late home, to supper, and to bed.

4th (Lord's day).  Busy at my Office from morning till night, in writing
with my own hand fair our large general account of the expence and debt of
the Navy, which lasted me till night to do, that I was almost blind, and
Mr. Gibson with me all day long, and dined with me, and excellent
discourse I had with him, he understanding all the business of the Navy
most admirably.  To walk a little with my wife at night in the garden, it
being very hot weather again, and so to supper and to bed.

5th.  Up, and with Sir W. Batten in the morning to St. James's, where we
did our ordinary business with the Duke of York, where I perceive they
have taken the highest resolution in the world to become good husbands,
and to retrench all charge; and to that end we are commanded to give him
an account of the establishment in the seventh year of the late King's
reign, and how offices and salaries have been increased since; and I hope
it will end in the taking away some of our Commissioners, though it may be
to the lessening of some of our salaries also.  After done with the Duke
of York, and coming out through his dressing-room, I there spied Signor
Francisco tuning his gittar, and Monsieur de Puy with him, who did make
him play to me, which he did most admirably--so well as I was mightily
troubled that all that pains should have been taken upon so bad an
instrument.  Walked over the Park with Mr. Gawden, end with him by coach
home, and to the Exchange, where 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, L80,000. 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.

     ["Sept. 6, 1667.  John Clarke to James Hickes.  A vessel arrived
     from Harwich brings news that the English lost 600 to 700 men in the
     attempt on St. Christopher; that Sir John Harman was not then there,
     but going with 11 ships, and left a ketch at Barbadoes to bring more
     soldiers after him; that the ketch met a French sloop with a packet
     from St. Christopher to their fleet at Martinico, and took her,
     whereupon Sir John Harman sailed there and fell upon their fleet of
     27 sail, 25 of which he sank, and burnt the others, save two which
     escaped; also that he left three of his fleet there, and went with
     the rest to Nevis, to make another attempt on St. Christopher.
     "Calendar of State Payers, 1667, p. 447]

Home, and dined with my wife at Sir W. Pen's, where a very good pasty of
venison, better than we expected, the last stinking basely, and after
dinner he and my wife and I to the Duke of York's house, and there saw
"Love Trickes, or the School of Compliments;" a silly play, only Miss
[Davis's] dancing in a shepherd's clothes did please us mightily.  Thence
without much pleasure home and to my Office, so home, to supper, and to
bed.  My wife mighty angry with Nell, who is turned a very gossip, and
gads abroad as soon as our backs are turned, and will put her away
tomorrow, which I am not sorry for.

6th.  Up, and to the office, where all the morning very full of business.
A full Board.  Here, talking of news, my Lord Anglesey 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 shew 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.  At noon home to dinner,
where I find Mrs. Wood, formerly Bab. Shelden, and our Mercer, who is
dressed to-day in a paysan dress, that looks mighty pretty.  We dined and
sang and laughed mighty merry, and then I to the Office, only met at the
door with Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Burroughs, who I took in and drank with,
but was afraid my wife should see them, they being, especially the first,
a prattling gossip, and so after drinking with them parted, and I to the
Office, busy as long as my poor eyes would endure, which troubles me
mightily and then into the garden with my wife, and to Sir W. Batten's
with [Sir] W. Pen and [Sir] J. Minnes, and there eat a melon and talked,
and so home to supper and to bed.  My wife, as she said last night, hath
put away Nell to-day, for her gossiping abroad and telling of stories.
Sir W. Batten did tell me to-night that the Council have ordered a hearing
before them of Carcasses business, which do vex me mightily, that we
should be troubled so much by an idle rogue, a servant of our own, and all
my thoughts to-night have been how to manage the matter before the
Council.

7th.  Up, and at the office very busy, and did much business all the
morning.  My wife abroad with her maid Jane and Tom all the afternoon,
being gone forth to eat some pasties at "The Bottle of Hay," in St. John's
Street, as you go to Islington, of which she is mighty fond, and I dined
at home alone, and at the office close all the afternoon, doing much
business to my great content.  This afternoon Mr. Pierce, the surgeon,
comes to me about business, and tells me that though the King and my Lady
Castlemayne 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: that,
indeed, she did threaten to bring all his bastards to his closet-door, and
hath nearly hectored him out of his wits.  I at my office till night, and
then home to my pipe, my wife not coming home, which vexed me.  I then
into the garden, and there walked alone in the garden till 10 at night,
when she come home, having been upon the water and could not get home
sooner.  So to supper, and to bed.

8th.  Up, and all the morning at the office, where busy, and at noon home
to dinner, where Creed dined with us, who tells me that 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 a couple of
fools, that killed one another out of love.  After dinner to the office a
while, and then with my wife to the Temple, where I light and sent her to
her tailor's.  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 Castlemayne at Sir D. Harvy's.  He gone, I met with Mr. Moore, who
tells me that my Lord Hinchingbroke is now with his mistress, but not that
he is married, as W. Howe come and told us the other day. So by coach to
White Hall, and there staid a little, thinking to see Sir G. Carteret, but
missed him, and so by coach took up my wife, and so home, and as far as
Bow, where we staid and drank, and there, passing by Mr. Lowther and his
lady, they stopped and we talked a little with them, they being in their
gilt coach, and so parted; and presently come to us Mr. Andrews, whom I
had not seen a good while, who, as other merchants do, do all give over
any hopes of things doing well, and so he spends his time here most,
playing at bowles.  After dining together at the coach-side, we with great
pleasure home, and so to the office, where I despatched my business, and
home to supper, and to bed.

9th.  Up, and betimes with Sir H. Cholmly upon some accounts of Tangier,
and then he and I to Westminster, to Mr. Burges, and then walked in the
Hall, and he and I talked, and he do really declare that he expects that
of necessity this kingdom will fall back again to a commonwealth, and
other wise men are of the same mind: this family doing all that silly men
can do, to make themselves unable to support their kingdom, minding their
lust and their pleasure, and making their government so chargeable, that
people do well remember better things were done, and better managed, and
with much less charge under a commonwealth than they have been by this
King, and do seem to resolve to wind up his businesses and get money in
his hand against the turn do come.  After some talk I by coach and there
dined, and with us Mr. Batelier by chance coming in to speak with me, and
when I come home, and find Mr. Goodgroome, my wife's singing-master, there
I did soundly rattle him for neglecting her so much as he hath done--she
not having learned three songs these three months and more. After dinner
my wife abroad with Mrs. Turner, and I to the office, where busy all the
afternoon, and in the evening by coach 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 do 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, as
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 war; 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 did. I took notice of
the sharp letter he wrote, which he sent us to read yesterday, to Sir
Edward Spragg, where he is very plain about his leaving his charge of the
ships at Gravesend, when the enemy come 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 duties, 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.  So home and
to supper, and bed, my head most full of an answer I have drawn this noon
to the Committee of the Council to whom Carcasses business is referred to
be examined again.

10th.  Up, and to the Office, and there finished the letter about
Carcasse, and sent it away, I think well writ, though it troubles me we
should be put to trouble by this rogue so much.  At the office all the
morning, and at noon home to dinner, where I sang and piped with my wife
with great pleasure, and did hire a coach to carry us to Barnett
to-morrow.  After dinner I to the office, and there wrote as long as my
eyes would give me leave, and then abroad and to the New Exchange, to the
bookseller's there, where I hear of several new books coming out--Mr.
Spratt's History of the Royal Society, and Mrs. Phillips's' poems. 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.

     [The collected edition of Denham's poems is dated 1668.  The verses
     referred to are inscribed "To Sir John Mennis being invited from
     Calice to Bologne to eat a pig," and two of the lines run

                   "Little Admiral John
                    To Bologne is gone."]

Cowley, he tells me, is dead; who, it seems, was a mighty civil, serious
man; which I did not know before.  Several good plays are likely to be
abroad soon, as Mustapha and Henry the 5th.  Here having staid and
divertised myself a good while, I home again and to finish my letters by
the post, and so home, and betimes to bed with my wife because of rising
betimes to-morrow.

11th (Lord's day).  Up by four o'clock, and ready with Mrs. Turner to take
coach before five; which we did, and set on our journey, and got 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.  Here we met Joseph Batelier, and I talked with him, and
here was W. Hewer also, and his uncle Steventon: so, after drinking three
glasses and the women nothing, we back by coach to Barnett, where to the
Red Lyon, where we 'light, and went up into the great Room, and there
drank, and eat some of the best cheese-cakes that ever I eat in my life,
and so took coach again, and W. Hewer on horseback with us, 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, it being just
church-time, and there we find my Lord and my Lady Sands and several fine
ladies of the family, and a great many handsome faces and genteel persons
more in the church, and did hear a most excellent good sermon, which
pleased me mightily, and very devout; it being upon, the signs of saving
grace, where it is in a man, and one sign, which held him all this day,
was, that where that grace was, there is also the grace of prayer, which
he did handle very finely.  In this church lies the former Lord of
Salisbury, Cecil, buried in a noble tomb. So the church being done, we to
our inn, and there dined very well, and mighty merry; and as soon as we
had dined we walked out into the Park through the fine walk of trees, and
to the Vineyard, and there shewed 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, for as I made it, it was pretty long, being come back to our inne,
there 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.  So, after resting awhile, we took coach again, and back to Barnett,
where W. Hewer took us into his lodging, which is very handsome, and there
did treat us very highly with cheesecakes, cream, tarts, and other good
things; and then walked into the garden, which was pretty, and there
filled my pockets full of filberts, and so with much pleasure.  Among
other things, I met in this house with a printed book of the Life of O.
Cromwell, to his honour as a soldier and politician, though as a rebell,
the first of that kind that ever I saw, and it is well done.  Took coach
again, and got home with great content, just at day shutting in, and so as
soon as home eat a little and then to bed, with exceeding great content at
our day's work.

12th.  My wife waked betimes to call up her maids to washing, and so to
bed again, whom I then hugged, it being cold now in the mornings .  .  . .
Up by and by, and with Mr. Gawden by coach to St. James's, where we find
the Duke gone a-hunting with the King, but found Sir W. Coventry within,
with whom we discoursed, and he did largely discourse with us about our
speedy falling upon considering of retrenchments in the expense of the
Navy, which I will put forward as much as I can.  So having done there I
to Westminster Hall to Burges, and then walked to the New Exchange, and
there to my bookseller's, and did buy Scott's Discourse of Witches; and do
hear Mr. Cowley 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.  Thence I to the printseller's, over
against the Exchange towards Covent Garden, and there bought a few more
prints of cittys, and so home with them, and my wife and maids being gone
over the water to the whitster's

     [A bleacher of linen.  "The whitsters of Datchet Mead" are referred
     to by Mrs. Ford ("Merry Wives of Windsor," act iii., sc. 3).]

with their clothes, this being the first time of her trying this way of
washing her linen, I dined at Sir W. Batten's, and after dinner, all alone
to the King's playhouse, and there did happen to sit just before Mrs.
Pierce, and Mrs. Knepp, who pulled me by the hair; and so I addressed
myself to them, and talked to them all the intervals of the play, and did
give them fruit.  The play is "Brenoralt," which I do find but little in,
for my part.  Here was many fine ladies-among others, the German Baron,
with his lady, who is envoye from the Emperour, and their fine daughter,
which hath travelled all Europe over with them, it seems; and is
accordingly accomplished, and indeed, is a wonderful pretty woman. Here
Sir Philip Frowde, who sat next to me, did tell me how Sir H. Belasses is
dead, and that the quarrel between him and Tom Porter, who is fled, did
arise in the ridiculous fashion that I was first told it, which is a
strange thing between two so good friends.  The play being done, I took
the women, and Mrs. Corbett, who was with them, by coach, it raining, to
Mrs. Manuel's, the Jew's wife, formerly a player, who we heard sing with
one of the Italians that was there; and, indeed, she sings mightily well;
and just after the Italian manner, but yet do not please me like one of
Mrs. Knepp's songs, to a good English tune, the manner of their ayre not
pleasing me so well as the fashion of our own, nor so natural.  Here I sat
a little and then left them, and then by coach home, and my wife not come
home, so the office a little and then home, and my wife come; and so,
saying nothing where I had been, we to supper and pipe, and so to bed.

13th.  Up, and to the office, where we sat busy all the morning.  At noon
home to dinner all alone, my wife being again at the whitster's.  After
dinner with Sir W. Pen to St. James's, where the rest come and 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 Breda of the
consummation of the peace.  Thence Sir W. Pen and I to the King's house,
and there saw "The Committee," which I went to with some prejudice, not
liking it before, but I do now find it a very good play, and a great deal
of good invention in it; but Lacy's part is so well performed that it
would set off anything.  The play being done, we with great pleasure home,
and there I to the office to finish my letters, and then home to my
chamber to sing and pipe till my wife comes home from her washing, which
was nine at night, and a dark and rainy night, that I was troubled at her
staying out so long.  But she come well home, and so to supper and to bed.

14th.  Up, and to the office, where we held a meeting extraordinary upon
some particular business, and there sat all the morning.  At noon, my wife
being gone to the whitster's again to her clothes, I to dinner to Sir W.
Batten's, where much of our discourse concerning Carcasse, who it seems do
find success before the Council, and do everywhere threaten us with what
he will prove against us, which do vex us to see that we must be subjected
to such a rogue of our own servants as this is.  By and by to talk of our
prize at Hull, and Sir W. Batten offering, again and again, seriously how
he would sell his part for L1000 and I considering the knavery of Hogg and
his company, and the trouble we may have with the Prince Rupert about the
consort ship, and how we are linked with Sir R. Ford, whose son-in-law too
is got thither, and there we intrust him with all our concern, who I doubt
not is of the same trade with his father-in-law for a knave, and then the
danger of the sea, if it shall be brought about, or bad debts contracted
in the sale, but chiefly to be eased of my fears about all or any of this,
I did offer my part to him for L700. With a little beating the bargain, we
come to a perfect agreement for L666 13s. 4d., which is two-thirds of
L1000, which is my proportion of the prize.  I went to my office full of
doubts and joy concerning what I had done; but, however, did put into
writing the heads of our agreement, and returned to Sir W. Batten, and we
both signed them; and Sir R. Ford, being come thither since, witnessed
them.  So having put it past further dispute I away, satisfied, and took
coach and to the King's playhouse, and there saw "The Country Captain,"
which is a very ordinary play. Methinks I had no pleasure therein at all,
and so home again and to my business hard till my wife come home from her
clothes, and so with her to supper and to bed.  No news yet come of the
ratification of the peace which we have expected now every hour since
yesterday.

15th.  Up, and to the office betimes, where busy, and sat all the morning,
vexed with more news of Carcasses proceedings at the Council, insomuch as
we four, [Sir] J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten, (Sir) W. Pen, and myself, did
make an appointment to dine with Sir W. Coventry to-day to discourse it
with him, which we did by going thither as soon as the office was up, and
there dined, and very merry, and many good stories, and after dinner to
our discourse about Carcasse, and how much we are troubled that we should
be brought, as they say we shall, to defend our report before the
Council-board with him, and to have a clerk imposed on us.  He tells us in
short that there is no intention in the Lords for the latter, but wholly
the contrary.  That they do not desire neither to do anything in
disrespect to the Board, and he will endeavour to prevent, as he hath
done, our coming to plead at the table with our clerk, and do believe the
whole will amount to nothing at the Council, only what he shall declare in
behalf of the King against the office, if he offers anything, will and
ought to be received, to which we all shew a readiness, though I confess
even that (though I think I am as clear as the clearest of them), yet I am
troubled to think what trouble a rogue may without cause give a man,
though it be only by bespattering a man, and therefore could wish that
over, though I fear nothing to be proved. Thence with much satisfaction,
and 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 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, and so after the play done we to the Duke's house,
where my wife was by appointment in Sir W. Pen's coach, and she home, and
we home, and I to my office, where busy till letters done, and then home
to supper and to bed.

16th.  Up, and at the office all the morning, and so at noon to dinner,
and after dinner my wife and I to the Duke's playhouse, where we saw the
new play acted yesterday, "The Feign Innocence, or Sir Martin Marr-all;"
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.  I laughed till my head [ached] all the evening
and night with the laughing; and at very good wit therein, not fooling.
The house full, and in all things of mighty content to me. Thence to the
New Exchange with my wife, where, at my bookseller's, I saw "The History
of the Royall Society," which, I believe, is a fine book, and have bespoke
one in quires.  So home, and I to the office a little, and so to my
chamber, and read the history of 88--[See 10th of this month.]--in Speede,
in order to my seeing the play thereof acted to-morrow at the King's
house.  So to supper in some pain by the sudden change of the weather cold
and my drinking of cold drink, which I must I fear begin to leave off,
though I shall try it as long as I can without much pain.  But I find
myself to be full of wind, and my anus to be knit together as it is always
with cold.  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.
So to bed.

17th.  Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat, and my head
was full of the business of Carcasse, who hath a hearing this morning
before the Council and hath summonsed at least thirty persons, and which
is wondrous, a great many of them, I hear, do declare more against him
than for him, and yet he summonses people without distinction.  Sure he is
distracted.  At noon home to dinner, and presently my wife and I and Sir
W. Pen to the King's playhouse, where the house extraordinary full; and
there was the King and Duke of York to see the new play, "Queen
Elizabeth's Troubles and the History of Eighty Eight."  I confess I have
sucked in so much of the sad story of Queen Elizabeth, from my cradle,
that I was ready to weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most
ridiculous that sure ever come upon the stage; and, indeed, is merely a
shew, only shews the true garbe of the Queen in those days, just as we see
Queen Mary and Queen 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 milkmaids, and to hear her sing a song to
Queen 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. Thence home and
went as far as Mile End with Sir W. Pen, whose coach took him up there for
his country-house; and after having drunk there, at the Rose and Crowne, a
good house for Alderman Bides ale,--[John Bide, brewer, Sheriff of London
in 1647.--B.]--we parted, and we home, and there I finished my letters,
and then home to supper and to bed.

18th (Lord's day).  Up, and being ready, walked up and down 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.  Walk back home and to our
own church, where a dull sermon and our church empty of the best sort of
people, they being at their country houses, and so home, and there dined
with me Mr. Turner and his daughter Betty.

     [Betty Turner, who is frequently mentioned after this date, appears
     to have been a daughter of Serjeant John Turner and his wife Jane,
     and younger sister of Theophila Turner (see January 4th, 6th,
     1668-69).]

Her mother should, but they were invited to Sir J. Minnes, where she dined
and the others here with me.  Betty is grown a fine lady as to carriage
and discourse.  I and my wife are mightily pleased with her. We had a good
haunch of venison, powdered and boiled, and a good dinner and merry.
After dinner comes Mr. Pelling the Potticary, whom I had sent for to dine
with me, but he was engaged.  After sitting an hour to talk we broke up,
all leaving Pelling to talk with my wife, and I walked towards White Hall,
but, being wearied, turned into St. Dunstan's Church, where I heard an
able sermon of the minister of the place; and stood by a pretty, modest
maid, whom I did labour to take by the hand and the body; but she would
not, but got further and further from me; and, at last, I could perceive
her to take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her
again--which seeing I did forbear, and was glad I did spy her design.  And
then I fell to gaze upon another pretty maid in a pew close to me, and she
on me; and I did go about to take her by the hand, which she suffered a
little and then withdrew.  So the sermon ended, and the church broke up,
and my amours ended also, and so took coach and home, and there took up my
wife, and to Islington with her, our old road, but before we got to
Islington, between that and Kingsland, there happened an odd adventure:
one of our coach-horses fell sick of the staggers, so as he was ready to
fall down.  The coachman was fain to 'light, and hold him up, and cut his
tongue to make him bleed, and his tail.  The horse continued shaking every
part of him, as if he had been in an ague, a good while, and his blood
settled in his tongue, and the coachman thought and believed he would
presently drop down dead; then he blew some tobacco in his nose, upon
which the horse sneezed, and, by and by, grows well, and draws us the rest
of our way, as well as ever he did; which was one of the strangest things
of a horse I ever observed, but he says it is usual. It is the staggers.
Staid and eat and drank at Islington, at the old house, and so home, and
to my chamber to read, and then to supper and to bed.

19th.  Up, and at the office all the morning very busy.  Towards noon I to
Westminster about some tallies at the Exchequer, and then straight home
again and dined, and then to sing with my wife with great content, and
then I to the office again, where busy, and then out and took coach and to
the Duke of York's house, all alone, and there saw "Sir Martin Marr-all"
again, though I saw him but two days since, and do find it the most
comical play that ever I saw in my life.  Soon as the play done I home,
and there busy till night, and then comes Mr. Moore to me only to
discourse with me about some general things touching the badness of the
times, how ill they look, and he do agree with most people that I meet
with, that we shall fall into a commonwealth in a few years, whether we
will or no; for the charge of a monarchy is such as the kingdom cannot be
brought to bear willingly, nor are things managed so well nowadays under
it, as heretofore.  He says every body do think that there is something
extraordinary that keeps us so long from the news of the peace being
ratified, which the King and the Duke of York have expected these six
days.  He gone, my wife and I and Mrs. Turner walked in the garden a good
while till 9 at night, and then parted, and I home to supper and to read a
little (which I cannot refrain, though I have all the reason in the world
to favour my eyes, which every day grow worse and worse by over-using
them), and then to bed.

20th.  Up, and to my chamber to set down my journall for the last three
days, and then to the office, where busy all the morning.  At noon home to
dinner, and then with my wife abroad, set her down at the Exchange, and I
to St. James's, where find Sir W. Coventry alone, and fell to discourse of
retrenchments; and thereon he tells how he hath already propounded to the
Lords Committee of the Councils how he would have the Treasurer of the
Navy a less man, that might not sit at the Board, but be subject to the
Board.  He would have two Controllers to do his work and two Surveyors,
whereof one of each to take it by turns to reside at Portsmouth and
Chatham by a kind of rotation; 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 L200,000, 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.  By and by comes my Lord
Bruncker, and then we up to the Duke of York, and there had a hearing of
our usual business, but no money to be heard of--no, not L100 upon the
most pressing service that can be imagined of bringing in the King's
timber from Whittlewood, while we have the utmost want of it, and no
credit to provide it elsewhere, and as soon as we had done with the Duke
of York, Sir W. Coventry did single [out] 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.  This troubled me much. By and by Sir W.
Batten told me that he heard how Carcasse do now give out that he will
hang me, among the rest of his threats of him and Pen, which is the first
word I ever heard of the kind from him concerning me. It do trouble me a
little, though I know nothing he can possibly find to fasten on me.
Thence, with my Lord Bruncker to the Duke's Playhouse (telling my wife so
at the 'Change, where I left her), and there saw "Sir Martin Marr-all"
again, which I have now seen three times, and it hath been acted but four
times, and still find it a very ingenious play, and full of variety.  So
home, and to the office, where my eyes would not suffer me to do any thing
by candlelight, and so called my wife and walked in the garden.  She
mighty pressing for a new pair of cuffs, which I am against the laying out
of money upon yet, which makes her angry.  So home to supper and to bed.

21st.  Up, and my wife and I fell out about the pair of cuffs, which she
hath a mind to have to go to see the ladies dancing to-morrow at Betty
Turner's school; and do vex me so that I am resolved to deny them her.
However, by-and-by a way was found that she had them, and I well
satisfied, being unwilling to let our difference grow higher upon so small
an occasion and frowardness of mine.  Then to the office, my Lord Bruncker
and I all the morning answering petitions, which now by a new Council's
order we are commanded to set a day in a week apart for, and we resolve to
do it by turn, my Lord and I one week and two others another. At noon home
to dinner, and then my wife and I mighty pleasant abroad, she to the New
Exchange and I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, who do sit very
close, and are bringing the King's charges as low as they can; but Sir W.
Coventry did here again tell me that he is very serious in what he said to
Sir W. Pen and me yesterday about our lending of money to the King; and
says that people do talk that we had had the King's ships at his cost to
take prizes, and that we ought to lend the King money more than other
people.  I did tell him I will consider it, and so parted; and do find I
cannot avoid it.  So to Westminster Hall and there staid a while, and
thence to Mrs. Martin's, and there did take a little pleasure both with
her and her sister.  Here sat and talked, and it is a strange thing to see
the impudence of the woman, that desires by all means to have her mari
come home, only that she might beat liberty to have me para toker her,
which is a thing I do not so much desire.  Thence by coach, took up my
wife, and home and out to Mile End, and there drank, and so home, and
after some little reading in my chamber, to supper and to bed.  This day I
sent my cozen Roger a tierce of claret, which I give him.  This morning
come two of Captain Cooke's boys, whose voices are broke, and are gone
from the Chapel, but have extraordinary skill; and they and my boy, with
his broken voice, did sing three parts; their names were Blaewl and
Loggings; but, notwithstanding their skill, yet to hear them sing with
their broken voices, which they could not command to keep in tune, would
make a man mad--so bad it was.

22nd.  Up, and to the office; whence Lord Bruncker, J. Minnes, 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 ever 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.  Returning to the
office, 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.
Returned to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to
Captain Cocke's to dinner; where Lord Bruncker and his Lady, Matt. Wren,
and Bulteale, and Sir Allen 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;

     [The post of Master Falconer was afterwards granted to Charles's son
     by Nell Gwyn, and it is still held by the Duke of St. Albans, as an
     hereditary office.--B.]

which makes him mad, and swears that we are doing that the Parliament
would have done--that is, that we are now endeavouring to destroy one
another.  But it was well observed by some  at the table, that they do not
think this retrenching of the King's charge will be so acceptable to the
Parliament, they having given the King a revenue of so many L100,000's
a-year more than his predecessors had, that he might live in pomp, like a
king.  After dinner with my Lord Bruncker and his mistress to the King's
playhouse, and there saw "The Indian Emperour;" 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 do most basely.  The rest of the play, though pretty good,
was not well acted by most of them, methought; so that I took no great
content in it.  But that, that troubled me most was, that Knipp sent by
Moll' to desire to speak to me after the play; and she beckoned to me at
the end of the play, and I promised to come; but it was so late, and I
forced to step to Mrs. Williams's lodgings with my Lord Bruncker and her,
where I did not stay, however, for fear of her shewing me her closet, and
thereby forcing me to give her something; and it was so late, that for
fear of my wife's coming home before me, I was forced to go straight home,
which troubled me.  Home and to the office a little, and then home and to
my chamber to read, and anon, late, comes home my wife, with Mr. Turner
and Mrs. Turner, with whom she supped, having been with Mrs. Turner to-day
at her daughter's school, to see her daughters dancing, and the rest,
which she says is fine.  They gone, I to supper and to bed.  My wife very
fine to-day, in her new suit of laced cuffs and perquisites.  This evening
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 the peace is so bad in its terms.

23rd.  Up, and Greeting comes, who brings me a tune for two flageolets,
which we played, and is a tune played at the King's playhouse, which goes
so well, that I will have more of them, and it will be a mighty pleasure
for me to have my wife able to play a part with me, which she will easily,
I find, do.  Then abroad to White Hall in a hackney-coach with Sir W. Pen:
and in our way, in the narrow street near Paul's, going the backway by
Tower Street, and the coach being forced to put back, he was turning
himself into a cellar,--[So much of London was yet in ruins.--B]--which
made people cry out to us, and so we were forced to leap out--he out of
one, and I out of the other boote;

     [The "boot" was originally a projection on each side of the coach,
     where the passengers sat with their backs to the carriage.  Such a
     "boot" is seen in the carriage containing the attendants of Queen
     Elizabeth, in Hoefnagel's well-known picture of Nonsuch Palace,
     dated 1582.  Taylor, the Water Poet, the inveterate opponent of the
     introduction of coaches, thus satirizes the one in which he was
     forced to take his place as a passenger: "It wears two boots and no
     spurs, sometimes having two pairs of legs in one boot; and
     oftentimes against nature most preposterously it makes fair ladies
     wear the boot.  Moreover, it makes people imitate sea-crabs, in
     being drawn sideways, as they are when they sit in the boot of the
     coach."  In course of time these projections were abolished, and the
     coach then consisted of three parts, viz., the body, the boot (on
     the top of which the coachman sat), and the baskets at the back.]

Query, whether a glass-coach would have permitted us to have made the
escape?--[See note on introduction of glass coaches, September 23rd,
1667.]--neither of us getting any hurt; nor could the coach have got much
hurt had we been in it; but, however, there was cause enough for us to do
what we could to save ourselves.  So being all dusty, we put into the
Castle tavern, by the Savoy, and there brushed ourselves, and then to
White Hall with our fellows to attend the Council, by order upon some
proposition of my Lord Anglesey, we were called in.  The King there: and
it was about considering how the fleete might be discharged at their
coming in shortly (the peace being now ratified, and it takes place on
Monday next, which Sir W. Coventry said would make some clashing between
some of us twenty to one, for want of more warning, but the wind has kept
the boats from coming over), whether by money or tickets, and cries out
against tickets, but the matter was referred for us to provide an answer
to, which we must do in a few days.  So we parted, and I to Westminster to
the Exchequer, to see what sums of money other people lend upon the Act;
and find of all sizes from L1000 to L100 nay, to L50, nay, to L20, nay, to
L5: for I find that one Dr. Reade, Doctor of Law, gives no more, and
others of them L20; which is a poor thing, methinks, that we should stoop
so low as to borrow such sums.  Upon the whole, I do think to lend, since
I must lend, L300, though, God knows! it is much against my will to lend
any, unless things were in better condition, and likely to continue so.
Thence home and there to dinner, and after dinner by coach out again,
setting my wife down at Unthanke's, and I 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 t'other, to lend
the King money upon the Act; and that the least clerk shall lend money,
and he believes the least will L100: 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 hear 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.  So away hence, and called my wife, and to
the King's house, and saw "The Mayden Queene," which pleases us mightily;
and then away, and took up Mrs. Turner at her door, and so to Mile End,
and there drank, and so back to her house, it being a fine evening, and
there supped. The first time I ever was there since they lived there; and
she hath all things so neat and well done, that I am mightily pleased with
her, and all she do.  So here very merry, and then home and to bed, my
eyes being very bad.  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 come 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.  All the morning at the
office.  At noon dined, and Creed with me, at home.  After dinner we to a
play, and there saw "The Cardinall" at the King's house, wherewith I am
mightily pleased; but, above all, with Becke Marshall. But it is pretty to
observe how I look up and down for, and did spy Knipp; but durst not own
it to my wife that I see her, for fear of angering her, who do not like my
kindness to her, and so I was forced not to take notice of her, and so
homeward, leaving Creed at the Temple: and my belly now full with plays,
that I do intend to bind myself to see no more till Michaelmas.  So with
my wife to Mile End, and there drank of Bides ale, and so home.  Most of
our discourse is about our keeping a coach the next year, which pleases my
wife mightily; and if I continue as able as now, it will save us money.
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 makes some think that
the Dutch themselves will send over money, and lend it upon our publick
faith, the Act of Parliament.  So home and to my office, wrote a little,
and then home to supper and to bed.

25th (Lord's day).  Up, and to church, and thence home; and Pelling comes
by invitation to dine with me, and much pleasant discourse with him. After
dinner, away by water to White Hall, where I landed Pelling, who is going
to his wife, where she is in the country, at Parson's Greene: and myself
to Westminster, and there at the Swan I did baiser Frank, and to the
parish church, thinking to see Betty Michell; and did stay an hour in the
crowd, thinking, by the end of a nose that I saw, that it had been her;
but at last the head turned towards me, and it was her mother, which vexed
me, and so I back to my boat, which had broke one of her oars in rowing,
and had now fastened it again; and so I up to Putney, and there stepped
into the church, to look upon the fine people there, whereof there is
great store, and the young ladies; and so walked to Barne-Elmes, whither I
sent Russel, reading of Boyle's Hydrostatickes, which are of infinite
delight.  I walked in the Elmes a good while, and then to my boat, and
leisurely home, with great pleasure to myself; and there supped, and W.
Hewer with us, with whom a great deal of good talk touching the Office,
and so to bed.

26th.  Up, and Greeting come, and I reckoned with him for his teaching of
my wife and me upon the flageolet to this day, and so paid him for having
as much as he can teach us.  Then to the Office, where we sat upon a
particular business all the morning: and my Lord Anglesey with us: who,
and my Lord Bruncker, 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.  After sitting, we
rose, and my wife being gone abroad with Mrs. Turner to her washing at the
whitster's, I dined at Sir W. Batten's, where Mr. Boreman was, who come
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 come 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
any thing 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
[Clarendon] is but a poor man, not worth above L3000 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.  Having dined, Sir J. Minnes and I
to White Hall, where we could be informed in no more than we were told
before, nobody knowing the result of the meeting, but that the matter is
suspended.  So I walked to the King's playhouse, there to meet Sir W. Pen,
and saw "The Surprizall," a very mean play, I thought: or else it was
because I was out of humour, and but very little company in the house.
But there Sir W. Pen and I had a great deal of discourse with Moll; who
tells us that Nell is already left by my Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes
sport of her, and swears she hath had all she could get of him; and Hart,

     [Charles Hart, great-nephew of Shakespeare, a favourite actor.  He
     is credited with being Nell Gwyn's first lover (or Charles I., as
     the wits put it), and with having brought her on the stage.  He died
     of stone, and was buried at Stanmore Magna, Middlesex, where he had
     a country house.]

her great admirer, now hates her; and that she is very poor, and hath lost
my Lady Castlemayne, who was her great friend also but she is come to the
House, but is neglected by them all.

     [Lord Buckhurst's liaison with Nell Gwyn probably came to an end
     about this time.  We learn from Pepys that in January, 1667-68, the
     king sent several times for Nelly (see January 11th, 1667-68).
     Nell's eldest son by Charles II., Charles Beauclerc, was not born
     till May 8th, 1670.  He was created Earl of Burford in 1676 and Duke
     of St. Albans in 1684.]

Thence with Sir W. Pen home, and I to the office, where late about
business, and then home to supper, and so to bed.

27th.  Up, and am invited betimes to be godfather tomorrow to Captain
Poole's child with my Lady Pen and Lady Batten, which I accepted out of
complaisance to them, and so to the office, where we sat all the morning.
At noon dined at home, and then my wife and I, with Sir W. Pen, to the New
Exchange, set her down, and he and I to St. James's, where Sir J. Minnes,
[Sir] W. Batten, and we waited upon the Duke of York, but did little
business, and he, I perceive, his head full of other business, and of late
hath not been very ready to be troubled with any of our business. Having
done with him, Sir J. Minnes, [Sir] W. Batten and I 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.  Here Sir J. Minnes and
I looking upon the pictures; and Mr. Chevins, being by, did take us, of
his own accord, into the King's closet, to shew us some pictures, which,
indeed, is a very noble place, and exceeding great variety of brave
pictures, and the best hands.  I could have spent three or four hours
there well, and we had great liberty to look and Chevins seemed to take
pleasure to shew us, and commend the pictures.  Having done here, I to the
Exchange, and there find my wife gone with Sir W. Pen.  So I to visit
Colonel Fitzgerald, who hath been long sick at Woolwich, where most of the
officers and soldiers quartered there, since the Dutch being in the river,
have died or been sick, and he among the rest; and, by the growth of his
beard and gray [hairs], I did not know him.  His desire to speak with me
was about the late command for my paying no more pensions for Tangier.
Thence home, and there did business, and so in the evening home to supper
and to bed.  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 Castlemayne'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 joying 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 return, did talk to her in her
birdcage; among others, Blancford, telling her she was the bird of
paradise.

     [Clarendon refers to this scene in the continuation of his Life (ed.
     1827, vol. iii., p. 291), and Lister writes: "Lady Castlemaine rose
     hastily from her noontide bed, and came out into her aviary, anxious
     to read in the saddened air of her distinguished enemy some presage
     of his fall" ("Life of Clarendon," vol. ii., p. 412).]

28th.  Up; and staid undressed till my tailor's boy did mend my vest, in
order to my going to the christening anon.  Then out and to White Hall, to
attend the Council, by their order, with an answer to their demands
touching our advice for the paying off of the seamen, when the ships shall
come in, which answer is worth seeing, shewing the badness of our
condition.  There, when I come, I was forced to stay till past twelve
o'clock, 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.  So when they rose, I into the
House, and saw the King and Queen at dinner, and heard a little of their
viallins' musick, and so home, and there to dinner, and in the afternoon
with my Lady Batten, Pen, and her daughter, and my wife, to Mrs. Poole's,
where I mighty merry among the women, and christened the child, a girl,
Elizabeth, which, though a girl, yet my Lady Batten would have me to give
the name.  After christening comes Sir W. Batten, [Sir] W. Pen, and Mr.
Lowther, and mighty merry there, and I forfeited for not kissing the two
godmothers presently after the christening, before I kissed the mother,
which made good mirth; and so anon away, and my wife and I took coach and
went twice round Bartholomew fayre; which I was glad to see again, after
two years missing it by the plague, and so home and to my chamber a
little, and so to supper and to bed.

29th.  Up, and Mr. Moore comes to me, and among other things tells me that
my Lord Crew and his friends take it very ill of me that my Lord
Sandwich's sea-fee should be retrenched, and so reported from this Office,
and I give them no notice of it.  The thing, though I know to be false--at
least, that nothing went from our office towards it--yet it troubled me,
and therefore after the office rose I went and dined with my Lord Crew,
and before dinner I did enter into that discourse, and laboured to satisfy
him; but found, though he said little, yet that he was not yet satisfied;
but after dinner did pray me to go and see how it was, whether true or no.
Did tell me if I was not their friend, they could trust to nobody, and
that he did not forget my service and love to my Lord, and adventures for
him in dangerous times, and therefore would not willingly doubt me now;
but yet asked my pardon if, upon this news, he did begin to fear it.  This
did mightily trouble me: so I away thence to White Hall, but could do
nothing.  So home, and there wrote all my letters, and then, in the
evening, to White Hall again, and there met Sir Richard Browne, Clerk to
the Committee for retrenchments, who assures me no one word was ever yet
mentioned about my Lord's salary.  This pleased me, and I to Sir G.
Carteret, who I find in the same doubt about it, and assured me he saw it
in our original report, my Lord's name with a discharge against it.  This,
though I know to be false, or that it must be a mistake in my clerk, I
went back to Sir R. Browne and got a sight of their paper, and find how
the mistake arose, by the ill copying of it out for the Council from our
paper sent to the Duke of York, which I took away with me and shewed Sir
G. Carteret, and thence to my Lord Crew, and the mistake ended very
merrily, and to all our contents, particularly my own, and so home, and to
the office, and then to my chamber late, and so to supper and to bed.  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. Bruncker 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 everything.  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 covetous 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 everywhere else as there is at this day, for
nobody knows which side will be uppermost.

30th.  Up, and to White Hall, where at the Council Chamber I hear Barker's
business is like to come to a hearing to-day, having failed the last day.
I therefore to Westminster to see what I could do in my 'Chequer business
about Tangier, and finding nothing to be done, returned, and in the Lobby
staid till almost noon expecting to hear Barker's business, but it was not
called, so I come away.  Here I met with Sir G. Downing, who tells me of
Sir W. Pen's offering to lend L500; and I tell him of my L300, 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 L380,000, 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 anything, 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 that 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 Zealand only, amounting to above L5000 for men taken in
the King's own ships, besides others taken in merchantmen, which 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 shewed 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 shewed 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.  Having staid out my time that I thought fit for me to return
home, I home and there took coach and with my wife to Walthamstow; to Sir
W. Pen's, by invitation, the first time I have been there, and there find
him and all their guests (of our office only) at dinner, which was a very
bad dinner, and everything suitable, that I never knew people in my life
that make their flutter, that do things so meanly.  I was sick to see it,
but was merry at some ridiculous humours of my Lady Batten, who, as being
an ill-bred woman, would take exceptions at anything any body said, and I
made good sport at it.  After dinner into the garden and wilderness, which
is like the rest of the house, nothing in order, nor looked after. By and
by comes newes that my Lady Viner was come to see Mrs. Lowther, which I
was glad of, and all the pleasure I had here was to see her, which I did,
and saluted her, and find she is pretty, though not so eminently so as
people talked of her, and of very pretty carriage and discourse.  I sat
with them and her an hour talking and pleasant, and then slunk away alone
without taking leave, leaving my wife there to come home with them, and I
to Bartholomew fayre, to walk up and down; and there, among other things,
find my Lady Castlemayne at a puppet-play, "Patient Grizill,"

     [The well-known story, first told by Boccaccio, then by Petrarca,
     afterwards by Chaucer, and which has since become proverbial.  Tom
     Warton, writing about 1770, says, "I need not mention that it is to
     this day represented in England, on a stage of the lowest species,
     and of the highest antiquity: I mean at a puppet show" ("Hist. of
     English Poetry," sect. xv.).--B.]

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 her work she makes, and therefore
suffered her with great respect to take coach, and she away, without any
trouble at all, which I wondered at, I confess.  I only walked up and
down, and, among others, saw Tom Pepys, the turner, who hath a shop, and I
think lives in the fair when the fair is not.  I only asked how he did as
he stood in the street, and so up and down sauntering till late and then
home, and there discoursed with my wife of our bad entertainment to-day,
and so to bed.  I met Captain Cocke to-day at the Council Chamber and took
him with me to Westminster, who tells me that there is yet expectation
that the Chancellor will lose the Seal, and that he is sure that the King
hath said it to him who told it him, and he fears we shall be soon broke
in pieces, 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.  This is all I hear.

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, to have it done
after so much debate and confidence that it would not be done at last.
When we arose I took a turn with Lord Bruncker in the garden, and he tells
me that he hath of late discoursed about this business with Sir W.
Coventry, who he finds is the great man in the doing this business of the
Chancellor's, and that he do persevere in it, though against the Duke of
York's opinion, to which he says that the Duke of York was once of the
same mind, and if he hath thought fit since, for any reason, to alter his
mind, he hath not found any to alter his own, and so desires to be
excused, for it is for the King's and kingdom's good.  And it seems that
the Duke of York himself was the first man that did speak to the King of
this, though he hath since altered his mind; and that W. Coventry did tell
the Duke of York that he was not fit to serve a Prince that did not know
how to retire, and live a private life; and that he was ready for that, if
it be his and the King's pleasure.  After having wrote my letters at the
office in the afternoon, I in the evening to White Hall to see how matters
go, and there I met with Mr. Ball, of the Excise-office, and he 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 thither, 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.  So I home, took up my wife, whom I left at
Unthanke's, and so home, and after signing my letters to bed.  This day,
being dissatisfied with my wife's learning so few songs of Goodgroome, I
did come to a new bargain with him to teach her songs at so much, viz.;
10s. a song, which he accepts of, and will teach her.




     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     Beginnings of discontents take so much root between us
     Eat some of the best cheese-cakes that ever I eat in my life
     Hugged, it being cold now in the mornings .  .  .  .
     I would not enquire into anything, but let her talk
     Ill-bred woman, would take exceptions at anything any body said
     Kingdom will fall back again to a commonwealth
     Little content most people have in the peace
     Necessary, and yet the peace is so bad in its terms
     Never laughed so in all my life.  I laughed till my head ached
     Nobody knows which side will be uppermost
     Sermon ended, and the church broke up, and my amours ended also
     Spends his time here most, playing at bowles
     Take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her
     The gates of the City shut, it being so late
     They want where to set their feet, to begin to do any thing
     Troubled to think what trouble a rogue may without cause give
     Wise men do prepare to remove abroad what they have





End of Project Gutenberg's Diary of Samuel Pepys, August 1667, by Samuel Pepys