Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ’Change, and after much business and meeting my uncle Wight, who told me how Mr. Maes had like to have been trapanned yesterday, but was forced to run for it; so with Creed and Mr. Hunt home to dinner, and after a good and pleasant dinner, Mr. Hunt parted, and I took Mr. Creed and my wife and down to Deptford, it being most pleasant weather, and there till night discoursing with the officers there about several things, and so walked home by moonshine, it being mighty pleasant, and so home, and I to my office, where late about getting myself a thorough understanding in the business of masts, and so home to bed, my left eye being mightily troubled with rheum.
Up, my eye mightily out of order with the rheum that is fallen down into it, however, I by coach endeavoured to have waited on my Lord Sandwich, but meeting him in Chancery Lane going towards the City I stopped and so fairly walked home again, calling at St. Paul’s Churchyarde, and there looked upon a pretty burlesque poem, called “Scarronides, or Virgile Travesty;” extraordinary good. At home to the office till dinner, and after dinner my wife cut my hair short, which is growne pretty long again, and then to the office, and there till 9 at night doing business. This afternoon we had a good present of tongues and bacon from Mr. Shales, of Portsmouth. So at night home to supper, and, being troubled with my eye, to bed. This morning Mr. Burgby, one of the writing clerks belonging to the Council, was with me about business, a knowing man, he complains how most of the Lords of the Council do look after themselves and their own ends, and none the publique, unless Sir Edward Nicholas. Sir G. Carteret is diligent, but all for his own ends and profit. My Lord Privy Seale, a destroyer of every body’s business, and do no good at all to the publique. The Archbishop of Canterbury speaks very little, nor do much, being now come to the highest pitch that he can expect. He tells me, he believes that things will go very high against the Chancellor by Digby, and that bad things will be proved. Talks much of his neglecting the King; and making the King to trot every day to him, when he is well enough to go to visit his cozen Chief-Justice Hide, but not to the Council or King. He commends my Lord of Ormond mightily in Ireland; but cries out cruelly of Sir G. Lane for his corruption; and that he hath done my Lord great dishonour by selling of places here, which are now all taken away, and the poor wretches ready to starve. That nobody almost understands or judges of business better than the King, if he would not be guilty of his father’s fault to be doubtfull of himself, and easily be removed from his own opinion. That my Lord Lauderdale is never from the King’s care nor council, and that he is a most cunning fellow. Upon the whole, that he finds things go very bad every where; and even in the Council nobody minds the publique.
Up pretty early and so to the office, where we sat all the morning making a very great contract with Sir W. Warren for provisions for the yeare coming, and so home to dinner, and there was W. Howe come to dine with me, and before dinner he and I walked in the garden, and we did discourse together, he assuring me of what he told me the other day of my Lord’s speaking so highly in my commendation to my Lord Peterborough and Povy, which speaks my Lord having yet a good opinion of me, and also how well my Lord and Lady both are pleased with their children’s being at my father’s, and when the bigger ladies were there a little while ago, at which I am very glad. After dinner he went away, I having discoursed with him about his own proceedings in his studies, and I observe him to be very considerate and to mind his book in order to preferring himself by my Lord’s favour to something, and I hope to the outing of Creed in his Secretaryship. For he tells me that he is confident my Lord do not love him nor will trust him in any secret matter, he is so cunning and crafty in all he do.
So my wife and I out of doors thinking to have gone to have seen a play, but when we came to take coach, they tell us there are none this week, being the first of Lent. But, Lord! to see how impatient I found myself within to see a play, I being at liberty once a month to see one, and I think it is the best method I could have taken.
But to my office, did very much business with several people till night, and so home, being unwilling to stay late because of my eye which is not yet well of the rheum that is fallen down into it, but to supper and to bed.
Up, my eye being pretty well, and then by coach to my Lord Sandwich, with whom I spoke, walking a good while with him in his garden, which and the house is very fine, talking of my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, wherein he is concerned both for the foolery as also inconvenience which may happen upon my Lord Peterborough’s ill-stating of his matters, so as to have his gaine discovered unnecessarily. We did talk long and freely that I hope the worst is past and all will be well. There were several people by trying a new-fashion gun1 brought my Lord this morning, to shoot off often, one after another, without trouble or danger, very pretty.
Thence to the Temple, and there taking White’s boat down to Woolwich, taking Mr. Shish at Deptford in my way, with whom I had some good discourse of the Navy business. At Woolwich discoursed with him and Mr. Pett about iron worke and other businesses, and then walked home, and at Greenwich did observe the foundation laying of a very great house for the King, which will cost a great deale of money.2 So home to dinner, and my uncle Wight coming in he along with my wife and I by coach, and setting him down by the way going to Mr. Maes we two to my Lord Sandwich’s to visit my Lady, with whom I left my wife discoursing, and I to White Hall, and there being met by the Duke of Yorke, he called me to him and discoursed a pretty while with me about the new ship’s dispatch building at Woolwich, and talking of the charge did say that he finds always the best the most cheape, instancing in French guns, which in France you may buy for 4 pistoles, as good to look to as others of 16, but not the service.
Thence to my Lord’s, and took up my wife, whom my Lady hath received with her old good nature and kindnesse, and so homewards, and she home, I ’lighting by the way, and upon the ’Change met my uncle Wight and told him my discourse this afternoon with Sir G. Carteret in Maes’ business, but much to his discomfort, and after a dish of coffee home, and at my office a good while with Sir W. Warren talking with great pleasure of many businesses, and then home to supper, my wife and I had a good fowle to supper, and then I to the office again and so home, my mind in great ease to think of our coming to so good a respect with my Lord again, and my Lady, and that my Lady do so much cry up my father’s usage of her children, and the goodness of the ayre there, found in the young ladies’ faces at their return thence, as she says, as also my being put into the commission of the Fishery, for which I must give my Lord thanks, and so home to bed, having a great cold in my head and throat tonight from my late cutting my hair so close to my head, but I hope it will be soon gone again.
Up and to the office, where, though I had a great cold, I was forced to speak much upon a publique meeting of the East India Company, at our office; where our own company was full, and there was also my Lord George Barkeley, in behalfe of the company of merchants (I suppose he is on that company), who, hearing my name, took notice of me, and condoled my cozen Edward Pepys’s death, not knowing whose son I was, nor did demand it of me. We broke up without coming to any conclusion, for want of my Lord Marlborough.
We broke up and I to the ’Change, where with several people and my uncle Wight to drink a dish of coffee, and so home to dinner, and then to the office all the afternoon, my eye and my throat being very bad, and my cold increasing so as I could not speak almost at all at night. So at night home to supper, that is a posset, and to bed.
(Lord’s day). Up, and my cold continuing in great extremity I could not go out to church, but sat all day (a little time at dinner excepted) in my closet at the office till night drawing up a second letter to Mr. Coventry about the measure of masts to my great satisfaction, and so in the evening home, and my uncle and aunt Wight came to us and supped with us, where pretty merry, but that my cold put me out of humour. At night with my cold, and my eye also sore still, to bed.
Up betimes, and the Duke being gone abroad to-day, as we heard by a messenger, I spent the morning at my office writing fair my yesterday’s work till almost 2 o’clock (only Sir G. Carteret coming I went down a little way by water towards Deptford, but having more mind to have my business done I pretended business at the ’Change, and so went into another boat), and then, eating a bit, my wife and I by coach to the Duke’s house, where we saw “The Unfortunate Lovers;” but I know not whether I am grown more curious than I was or no, but I was not much pleased with it, though I know not where to lay the fault, unless it was that the house was very empty, by reason of a new play at the other house. Yet here was my Lady Castlemayne in a box, and it was pleasant to hear an ordinary lady hard by us, that it seems did not know her before, say, being told who she was, that “she was well enough.” Thence home, and I ended and sent away my letter to Mr. Coventry (having first read it and had the opinion of Sir W. Warren in the case), and so home to supper and to bed, my cold being pretty well gone, but my eye remaining still snare and rhumey, which I wonder at, my right eye ayling nothing.
Up with some little discontent with my wife upon her saying that she had got and used some puppy-dog water, being put upon it by a desire of my aunt Wight to get some for her, who hath a mind, unknown to her husband, to get some for her ugly face. I to the office, where we sat all the morning, doing not much business through the multitude of counsellors, one hindering another. It was Mr. Coventry’s own saying to me in his coach going to the ’Change, but I wonder that he did give me no thanks for my letter last night, but I believe he did only forget it. Thence home, whither Luellin came and dined with me, but we made no long stay at dinner; for “Heraclius” being acted, which my wife and I have a mighty mind to see, we do resolve, though not exactly agreeing with the letter of my vowe, yet altogether with the sense, to see another this month, by going hither instead of that at Court, there having been none conveniently since I made my vowe for us to see there, nor like to be this Lent, and besides we did walk home on purpose to make this going as cheap as that would have been, to have seen one at Court, and my conscience knows that it is only the saving of money and the time also that I intend by my oaths, and this has cost no more of either, so that my conscience before God do after good consultation and resolution of paying my forfeit, did my conscience accuse me of breaking my vowe, I do not find myself in the least apprehensive that I have done any violence to my oaths. The play hath one very good passage well managed in it, about two persons pretending, and yet denying themselves, to be son to the tyrant Phocas, and yet heire of Mauritius to the crowne. The garments like Romans very well. The little girle is come to act very prettily, and spoke the epilogue most admirably. But at the beginning, at the drawing up of the curtaine, there was the finest scene of the Emperor and his people about him, standing in their fixed and different pastures in their Roman habitts, above all that ever I yet saw at any of the theatres. Walked home, calling to see my brother Tom, who is in bed, and I doubt very ill of a consumption. To the office awhile, and so home to supper and to bed.
Up and to the office, where all the morning doing business, and at noon to the ’Change and there very busy, and so home to dinner with my wife, to a good hog’s harslet, a piece of meat I love, but have not eat of I think these seven years, and after dinner abroad by coach set her at Mrs. Hunt’s and I to White Hall, and at the Privy Seale I enquired, and found the Bill come for the Corporation of the Royall Fishery; whereof the Duke of Yorke is made present Governor, and several other very great persons, to the number of thirty-two, made his assistants for their lives: whereof, by my Lord Sandwich’s favour, I am one; and take it not only as a matter of honour, but that, that may come to be of profit to me, and so with great content went and called my wife, and so home and to the office, where busy late, and so home to supper and to bed.
Up and by coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, who not being up I staid talking with Mr. Moore till my Lord was ready and come down, and went directly out without calling for me or seeing any body. I know not whether he knew I was there, but I am apt to think not, because if he would have given me that slighting yet he would not have done it to others that were there. So I went back again doing nothing but discoursing with Mr. Moore, who I find by discourse to be grown rich, and indeed not to use me at all with the respect he used to do, but as his equal. He made me known to their Chaplin, who is a worthy, able man. Thence home, and by and by to the Coffee-house, and thence to the ’Change, and so home to dinner, and after a little chat with my wife to the office, where all the afternoon till very late at the office busy, and so home to supper and to bed, hoping in God that my diligence, as it is really very useful for the King, so it will end in profit to myself. In the meantime I have good content in mind to see myself improve every day in knowledge and being known.
Lay long pleasantly entertaining myself with my wife, and then up and to the office, where busy till noon, vexed to see how Sir J. Minnes deserves rather to be pitied for his dotage and folly than employed at a great salary to ruin the King’s business. At noon to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, and then down to Deptford, where busy a while, and then walking home it fell hard a raining. So at Halfway house put in, and there meeting Mr. Stacy with some company of pretty women, I took him aside to a room by ourselves, and there talked with him about the several sorts of tarrs, and so by and by parted, and I walked home and there late at the office, and so home to supper and to bed.
(Lord’s day). Lay long in bed talking with my wife, and then up in great doubt whether I should not go see Mr. Coventry or no, who hath not been well these two or three days, but it being foul weather I staid within, and so to my office, and there all the morning reading some Common Law, to which I will allot a little time now and then, for I much want it. At noon home to dinner, and then after some discourse with my wife, to the office again, and by and by Sir W. Pen came to me after sermon and walked with me in the garden and then one comes to tell me that Anthony and Will Joyce were come to see me, so I in to them and made mighty much of them, and very pleasant we were, and most of their business I find to be to advise about getting some woman to attend my brother Tom, whom they say is very ill and seems much to want one. To which I agreed, and desired them to get their wives to enquire out one. By and by they bid me good night, but immediately as they were gone out of doors comes Mrs. Turner’s boy with a note to me to tell me that my brother Tom was so ill as they feared he would not long live, and that it would be fit I should come and see him. So I sent for them back, and they came, and Will Joyce desiring to speak with me alone I took him up, and there he did plainly tell me to my great astonishment that my brother is deadly ill, and that their chief business of coming was to tell me so, and what is worst that his disease is the pox, which he hath heretofore got, and hath not been cured, but is come to this, and that this is certain, though a secret told his father Fenner by the Doctor which he helped my brother to.
This troubled me mightily, but however I thought fit to go see him for speech of people’s sake, and so walked along with them, and in our way called on my uncle Fenner (where I have not been these 12 months and more) and advised with him, and then to my brother, who lies in bed talking idle. He could only say that he knew me, and then fell to other discourse, and his face like a dying man, which Mrs. Turner, who was here, and others conclude he is.
The company being gone, I took the mayde, which seems a very grave and serious woman, and in W. Joyce’s company’ did inquire how things are with her master. She told me many things very discreetly, and said she had all his papers and books, and key of his cutting house, and showed me a bag which I and Wm. Joyce told, coming to 5l. 14s. 0d., which we left with her again.
After giving her good counsel, and the boys, and seeing a nurse there of Mrs. Holden’s choosing, I left them, and so walked home greatly troubled to think of my brother’s condition, and the trouble that would arise to me by his death or continuing sick.
So at home, my mind troubled, to bed.
Up, and walked to my brother’s, where I find he hath continued talking idly all night, and now knows me not; which troubles me mightily. So I walked down and discoursed a great while alone with the mayde, who tells me many passages of her master’s practices, and how she concludes that he has run behind hand a great while and owes money, and has been dunned by several people, among others by one Cave, both husband and wife, but whether it was for —[See April 6th]— money or something worse she knows not, but there is one Cranburne, I think she called him, in Fleete Lane with whom he hath many times been mighty private, but what their dealings have been she knows not, but believes these were naught, and then his sitting up two Saturday nights one after another when all were abed doing something to himself, which she now suspects what it was, but did not before, but tells me that he hath been a very bad husband as to spending his time, and hath often told him of it, so that upon the whole I do find he is, whether he lives or dies, a ruined man, and what trouble will befall me by it I know not.
Thence to White Hall; and in the Duke’s chamber, while he was dressing, two persons of quality that were there did tell his Royal Highness how the other night, in Holborne, about midnight, being at cards, a link-boy come by and run into the house, and told the people the house was a-falling. Upon this the whole family was frighted, concluding that the boy had said that the house was a-fire: so they deft their cards above, and one would have got out of the balcone, but it was not open; the other went up to fetch down his children, that were in bed; so all got clear out of the house. And no sooner so, but the house fell down indeed, from top to bottom. It seems my Lord Southampton’s canaille —[sewer]— did come too near their foundation, and so weakened the house, and down it came; which, in every respect, is a most extraordinary passage.
By and by into his closet and did our business with him. But I did not speed as I expected in a business about the manner of buying hemp for this year, which troubled me, but it proceeds only from my pride, that I must needs expect every thing to be ordered just as I apprehend, though it was not I think from my errour, but their not being willing to hear and consider all that I had to propose.
Being broke up I followed my Lord Sandwich and thanked him for his putting me into the Fishery, which I perceive he expected, and cried “Oh!” says he, “in the Fishery you mean. I told you I would remember you in it,” but offered no other discourse. But demanding whether he had any commands for me, methought he cried “No!” as if he had no more mind to discourse with me, which still troubles me and hath done all the day, though I think I am a fool for it, in not pursuing my resolution of going handsome in clothes and looking high, for that must do it when all is done with my Lord. Thence by coach with Sir W. Batten to the city, and his son Castle, who talks mighty highly against Captain Tayler, calling him knave, and I find that the old Boating father is led and talks just as the son do, or the son as the father would have him.
‘Light and to Mr. Moxon’s, and there saw our office globes in doing, which will be very handsome but cost money. So to the Coffee-house, and there very fine discourse with Mr. Hill the merchant, a pretty, gentile, young, and sober man.
So to the ’Change, and thence home, where my wife and I fell out about my not being willing to have her have her gowne laced, but would lay out the same money and more on a plain new one. At this she flounced away in a manner I never saw her, nor which I could ever endure. So I away to the office, though she had dressed herself to go see my Lady Sandwich. She by and by in a rage follows me, and coming to me tells me in spitefull manner like a vixen and with a look full of rancour that she would go buy a new one and lace it and make me pay for it, and then let me burn it if I would after she had done it, and so went away in a fury. This vexed me cruelly, but being very busy I had, not hand to give myself up to consult what to do in it, but anon, I suppose after she saw that I did not follow her, she came again to the office, where I made her stay, being busy with another, half an houre, and her stomach coming down we were presently friends, and so after my business being over at the office we out and by coach to my Lady Sandwich’s,. with whom I left my wife, and I to White Hall, where I met Mr. Delsety, and after an hour’s discourse with him met with nobody to do other business with, but back again to my Lady, and after half an hour’s discourse with her to my brother’s, who I find in the same or worse condition. The doctors give him over and so do all that see him. He talks no sense two words together now; and I confess it made me weepe to see that he should not be able, when I asked him, to say who I was.
I went to Mrs. Turner’s, and by her discourse with my brother’s Doctor, Mr. Powell, I find that she is full now of the disease which my brother is troubled with, and talks of it mightily, which I am sorry for, there being other company, but methinks it should be for her honour to forbear talking of it, the shame of this very thing I confess troubles me as much as anything.
Back to my brother’s and took my wife, and carried her to my uncle Fenner’s and there had much private discourse with him. He tells me of the Doctor’s thoughts of my brother’s little hopes of recovery, and from that to tell me his thoughts long of my brother’s bad husbandry, and from that to say that he believes he owes a great deal of money, as to my cozen Scott I know not how much, and Dr. Thos. Pepys 30l., but that the Doctor confesses that he is paid 20l. of it, and what with that and what he owes my father and me I doubt he is in a very sad condition, that if he lives he will not be able to show his head, which will be a very great shame to me.
After this I went in to my aunt and my wife and Anthony Joyce and his wife, who were by chance there, and drank and so home, my mind and head troubled, but I hope it will [be] over in a little time one way or other.
After doing a little at my office of business I home to supper and to bed.
From notice that my uncle Fenner did give my father the last week of my brother’s condition, my mother is coming up to towne, which also do trouble me.
Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon comes Madam Turner and her daughter The., her chief errand to tell me that she had got Dr. Wiverly, her Doctor, to search my brother’s mouth, where Mr. Powell says there is an ulcer, from thence he concludes that he hath had the pox. But the Doctor swears that there is not, nor ever was any, and my brother being very sensible, which I was glad to hear, he did talk with him about it, and he did wholly disclaim that ever he had the disease, or that ever he said to Powell that he had it. All which did put me into great comfort as to the reproach which was spread against him. So I sent for a barrel of oysters, and they dined, and we were very merry, I being willing to be so upon this news. After dinner we took coach and to my brother’s, where contrary to my expectation he continues as bad or worse, talking idle, and now not at all knowing any of us as before. Here we staid a great while, I going up and down the house looking after things. In the evening Dr. Wiverley came again, and I sent for Mr. Powell (the Doctor and I having first by ourselves searched my brother again at his privities, where he was as clear as ever he was born, and in the Doctor’s opinion had been ever so), and we three alone discoursed the business, where the coxcomb did give us his simple reasons for what he had said, which the Doctor fully confuted, and left the fellow only saying that he should cease to report any such thing, and that what he had said was the best of his judgment from my brother’s words and a ulcer, as he supposed, in his mouth. I threatened him that I would have satisfaction if I heard any more such discourse, and so good night to them two, giving the Doctor a piece for his fee, but the other nothing.
I to my brother again, where Madam Turner and her company, and Mrs. Croxton, my wife, and Mrs. Holding. About 8 o’clock my brother began to fetch his spittle with more pain, and to speak as much but not so distinctly, till at last the phlegm getting the mastery of him, and he beginning as we thought to rattle, I had no mind to see him die, as we thought he presently would, and so withdrew and led Mrs. Turner home, but before I came back, which was in half a quarter of an hour, my brother was dead. I went up and found the nurse holding his eyes shut, and he poor wretch lying with his chops fallen, a most sad sight, and that which put me into a present very great transport of grief and cries, and indeed it was a most sad sight to see the poor wretch lie now still and dead, and pale like a stone. I staid till he was almost cold, while Mrs. Croxton, Holden, and the rest did strip and lay him out, they observing his corpse, as they told me afterwards, to be as clear as any they ever saw, and so this was the end of my poor brother, continuing talking idle and his lips working even to his last that his phlegm hindered his breathing, and at last his breath broke out bringing a flood of phlegm and stuff out with it, and so he died.
This evening he talked among other talk a great deal of French very plain and good, as, among others: ‘quand un homme boit quand il n’a poynt d’inclination a boire il ne luy fait jamais de bien.’ I once begun to tell him something of his condition, and asked him whither he thought he should go. He in distracted manner answered me — “Why, whither should I go? there are but two ways: If I go, to the bad way I must give God thanks for it, and if I go the other way I must give God the more thanks for it; and I hope I have not been so undutifull and unthankfull in my life but I hope I shall go that way.” This was all the sense, good or bad, that I could get of him this day.
I left my wife to see him laid out, and I by coach home carrying my brother’s papers, all I could find, with me, and having wrote a letter to, my father telling him what hath been said I returned by coach, it being very late, and dark, to my brother’s, but all being gone, the corpse laid out, and my wife at Mrs. Turner’s, I thither, and there after an hour’s talk, we up to bed, my wife and I in the little blue chamber, and I lay close to my wife, being full of disorder and grief for my brother that I could not sleep nor wake with satisfaction, at last I slept till 5 or 6 o’clock.
And then I rose and up, leaving my wife in bed, and to my brother’s, where I set them on cleaning the house, and my wife coming anon to look after things, I up and down to my cozen Stradwicke’s and uncle Fenner’s about discoursing for the funeral, which I am resolved to put off till Friday next. Thence home and trimmed myself, and then to the ’Change, and told my uncle Wight of my brother’s death, and so by coach to my cozen Turner’s and there dined very well, but my wife … in great pain we were forced to rise in some disorder, and in Mrs. Turner’s coach carried her home and put her to bed. Then back again with my cozen Norton to Mrs. Turner’s, and there staid a while talking with Dr. Pepys, the puppy, whom I had no patience to hear. So I left them and to my brother’s to look after things, and saw the coffin brought; and by and by Mrs. Holden came and saw him nailed up. Then came W. Joyce to me half drunk, and much ado I had to tell him the story of my brother’s being found clear of what was said, but he would interrupt me by some idle discourse or other, of his crying what a good man, and a good speaker my brother was, and God knows what. At last weary of him I got him away, and I to Mrs. Turner’s, and there, though my heart is still heavy to think of my poor brother, yet I could give way to my fancy to hear Mrs. The. play upon the Harpsicon, though the musique did not please me neither. Thence to my brother’s and found them with my mayd Elizabeth taking an inventory of the goods of the house, which I was well pleased at, and am much beholden to Mr. Honeywood’s man in doing of it. His name is Herbert, one that says he knew me when he lived with Sir Samuel Morland, but I have forgot him. So I left them at it, and by coach home and to my office, there to do a little business, but God knows my heart and head is so full of my brother’s death, and the consequences of it, that I can do very little or understand it.
So home to supper, and after looking over some business in my chamber I to bed to my wife, who continues in bed in some pain still. This day I have a great barrel of oysters given me by Mr. Barrow, as big as 16 of others, and I took it in the coach with me to Mrs. Turner’s, and give them to her.
This day the Parliament met again, after a long prorogation, but what they have done I have not been in the way to hear.
Up and to my brother’s, where all the morning doing business against to-morrow, and so to my cozen Stradwicke’s about the same business, and to the ’Change, and thence home to dinner, where my wife in bed sick still, but not so bad as yesterday. I dined by her, and so to the office, where we sat this afternoon, having changed this day our sittings from morning to afternoons, because of the Parliament which returned yesterday; but was adjourned till Monday next; upon pretence that many of the members were said to be upon the road; and also the King had other affairs, and so desired them to adjourn till then. But the truth is, the King is offended at my Lord of Bristol, as they say, whom he hath found to have been all this while (pretending a desire of leave to go into France, and to have all the difference between him and the Chancellor made up,) endeavouring to make factions in both Houses to the Chancellor. So the King did this to keep the Houses from meeting; and in the meanwhile sent a guard and a herald last night to have taken him at Wimbleton, where he was in the morning, but could not find him: at which the King was and is still mightily concerned, and runs up and down to and from the Chancellor’s like a boy: and it seems would make Digby’s articles against the Chancellor to be treasonable reflections against his Majesty. So that the King is very high, as they say; and God knows what will follow upon it!
After office I to my brother’s again, and thence to Madam Turner’s, in both places preparing things against to-morrow; and this night I have altered my resolution of burying him in the church yarde among my young brothers and sisters, and bury him in the church, in the middle isle, as near as I can to my mother’s pew. This costs me 20s. more. This being all, home by coach, bringing my brother’s silver tankard for safety along with me, and so to supper, after writing to my father, and so to bed.
Up betimes, and walked to my brother’s, where a great while putting things in order against anon; then to Madam Turner’s and eat a breakfast there, and so to Wotton, my shoemaker, and there got a pair of shoes blacked on the soles against anon for me; so to my brother’s and to church, and with the grave-maker chose a place for my brother to lie in, just under my mother’s pew. But to see how a man’s tombes are at the mercy of such a fellow, that for sixpence he would, (as his owne words were,) “I will justle them together but I will make room for him;” speaking of the fulness of the middle isle, where he was to lie; and that he would, for my father’s sake, do my brother that is dead all the civility he can; which was to disturb other corps that are not quite rotten, to make room for him; and methought his manner of speaking it was very remarkable; as of a thing that now was in his power to do a man a courtesy or not.
At noon my wife, though in pain, comes, but I being forced to go home, she went back with me, where I dressed myself, and so did Besse; and so to my brother’s again: whither, though invited, as the custom is, at one or two o’clock, they came not till four or five. But at last one after another they come, many more than I bid: and my reckoning that I bid was one hundred and twenty; but I believe there was nearer one hundred and fifty. Their service was six biscuits apiece, and what they pleased of burnt claret. My cosen Joyce Norton kept the wine and cakes above; and did give out to them that served, who had white gloves given them. But above all, I am beholden to Mrs. Holden, who was most kind, and did take mighty pains not only in getting the house and every thing else ready, but this day in going up and down to see, the house filled and served, in order to mine, and their great content, I think; the men sitting by themselves in some rooms, and women by themselves in others, very close, but yet room enough. Anon to church, walking out into the streete to the Conduit, and so across the streete, and had a very good company along with the corps. And being come to the grave as above, Dr. Pierson, the minister of the parish, did read the service for buriall: and so I saw my poor brother laid into the grave; and so all broke up; and I and my wife and Madam Turner and her family to my brother’s, and by and by fell to a barrell of oysters, cake, and cheese, of Mr. Honiwood’s, with him, in his chamber and below, being too merry for so late a sad work. But, Lord! to see how the world makes nothing of the memory of a man, an houre after he is dead! And, indeed, I must blame myself; for though at the sight of him dead and dying, I had real grief for a while, while he was in my sight, yet presently after, and ever since, I have had very little grief indeed for him.
By and by, it beginning to be late, I put things in some order in the house, and so took my wife and Besse (who hath done me very good service in cleaning and getting ready every thing and serving the wine and things to-day, and is indeed a most excellent good-natured and faithful wench, and I love her mightily), by coach home, and so after being at the office to set down the day’s work home to supper and to bed.
Up and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon my wife and I alone, having a good hen, with eggs, to dinner, with great content. Then by coach to my brother’s, where I spent the afternoon in paying some of the charges of the buriall, and in looking over his papers, among which I find several letters of my brother John’s to him speaking very foale words of me and my deportment to him here, and very crafty designs about Sturtlow land and God knows what, which I am very glad to know, and shall make him repent them. Anon my father and my brother John came to towne by coach. I sat till night with him, giving him an account of things. He, poor man, very sad and sickly. I in great pain by a simple compressing of my cods to-day by putting one leg over another as I have formerly done, which made me hasten home, and after a little at the office in great disorder home to bed.
(Lord’s day). Kept my bed all the morning, having laid a poultice to my cods last night to take down the tumour there which I got yesterday, which it did do, being applied pretty warm, and soon after the beginning of the swelling, and the pain was gone also. We lay talking all the while, among other things of religion, wherein I am sorry so often to hear my wife talk of her being and resolving to die a Catholique,1 and indeed a small matter, I believe, would absolutely turn her, which I am sorry for. Up at noon to dinner, and then to my chamber with a fire till late at night looking over my brother Thomas’s papers, sorting of them, among which I find many base letters of my brother John’s to him against me, and carrying on plots against me to promote Tom’s having of his Banbury Mistress, in base slighting terms, and in worse of my sister Pall, such as I shall take a convenient time to make my father know, and him also to his sorrow. So after supper to bed, our people rising to wash to-morrow.
Up, and it snowing this morning a little, which from the mildness of the winter and the weather beginning to be hot and the summer to come on apace, is a little strange to us. I did not go abroad for fear of my tumour, for fear it shall rise again, but staid within, and by and by my, father came, poor man, to me, and my brother John. After much talke and taking them up to my chamber, I did there after some discourse bring in any business of anger — with John, and did before my father read all his roguish letters, which troubled my father mightily, especially to hear me say what I did, against my allowing any thing for the time to come to him out of my owne purse, and other words very severe, while he, like a simple rogue, made very silly and churlish answers to me, not like a man of any goodness or witt, at which I was as much disturbed as the other, and will be as good as my word in making him to his cost know that I will remember his carriage to me in this particular the longest day I live. It troubled me to see my poor father so troubled, whose good nature did make him, poor wretch, to yield, I believe, to comply with my brother Tom and him in part of their designs, but without any ill intent to me, or doubt of me or my good intentions to him or them, though it do trouble me a little that he should in any manner do it.
They dined with me, and after dinner abroad with my wife to buy some things for her, and I to the office, where we sat till night, and then, after doing some business at my closet, I home and to supper and to bed.
This day the Houses of Parliament met; and the King met them, with the Queene with him. And he made a speech to them:1 among other things, discoursing largely of the plots abroad against him and the peace of the kingdom; and, among other things, that the dissatisfied party had great hopes upon the effect of the Act for a Triennial Parliament granted by his father, which he desired them to peruse, and, I think, repeal. So the Houses did retire to their own House, and did order the Act to be read to-morrow before them; and I suppose it will be repealed, though I believe much against the will of a good many that sit there.
Up, and spent the whole morning and afternoon at my office, only in the evening, my wife being at my aunt Wight’s, I went thither, calling at my own house, going out found the parlour curtains drawn, and inquiring the reason of it, they told me that their mistress had got Mrs. Buggin’s fine little dog and our little bitch, which is proud at this time, and I am apt to think that she was helping him to line her, for going afterwards to my uncle Wight’s, and supping there with her, where very merry with Mr. Woolly’s drollery, and going home I found the little dog so little that of himself he could not reach our bitch, which I am sorry for, for it is the finest dog that ever I saw in my life, as if he were painted the colours are so finely mixed and shaded. God forgive me, it went against me to have my wife and servants look upon them while they endeavoured to do something …
Up, and going out saw Mrs. Buggin’s dog, which proves as I thought last night so pretty that I took him and the bitch into my closet below, and by holding down the bitch helped him to line her, which he did very stoutly, so as I hope it will take, for it is the prettiest dog that ever I saw.
So to the office, where very busy all the morning, and so to the ’Change, and off hence with Sir W. Rider to the Trinity House, and there dined very well: and good discourse among the old men of Islands now and then rising and falling again in the Sea, and that there is many dangers of grounds and rocks that come just up to the edge almost of the sea, that is never discovered and ships perish without the world’s knowing the reason of it.
Among other things, they observed, that there are but two seamen in the Parliament house, viz., Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Pen, and not above twenty or thirty merchants; which is a strange thing in an island, and no wonder that things of trade go no better nor are better understood.
Thence home, and all the afternoon at the office, only for an hour in the evening my Lady Jemimah, Paulina, and Madam Pickering come to see us, but my wife would not be seen, being unready. Very merry with them; they mightily talking of their thrifty living for a fortnight before their mother came to town, and other such simple talk, and of their merry life at Brampton, at my father’s, this winter. So they being gone, to the office again till late, and so home and to supper and to bed.
Called up by my father, poor man, coming to advise with me about Tom’s house and other matters, and he being gone I down by water to Greenwich, it being very-foggy, and I walked very finely to Woolwich, and there did very much business at both yards, and thence walked back, Captain Grove with me talking, and so to Deptford and did the like- there, and then walked to Redriffe (calling and eating a bit of collops and eggs at Half-way house), and so home to the office, where we sat late, and home weary to supper and to bed.
(Lady-day). Up and by water to White Hall, and there to chappell; where it was most infinite full to hear Dr. Critton. Being not knowne, some great persons in the pew I pretended to, and went in, did question my coming in. I told them my pretence; so they turned to the orders of the chappell, which hung behind upon the wall, and read it; and were satisfied; but they did not demand whether I was in waiting or no; and so I was in some fear lest he that was in waiting might come and betray me.
The Doctor preached upon the thirty-first of Jeremy, and the twenty-first and twenty-second verses, about a woman compassing a man; meaning the Virgin conceiving and bearing our Saviour. It was the worst sermon I ever heard him make, I must confess; and yet it was good, and in two places very bitter, advising the King to do as the Emperor Severus did, to hang up a Presbyter John (a short coat and a long gowne interchangeably) in all the Courts of England. But the story of Severus was pretty, that he hanged up forty senators before the Senate house, and then made a speech presently to the Senate in praise of his owne lenity; and then decreed that never any senator after that time should suffer in the same manner without consent of the Senate: which he compared to the proceeding of the Long Parliament against my Lord Strafford. He said the greatest part of the lay magistrates in England were Puritans, and would not do justice; and the Bishopps, their powers were so taken away and lessened, that they could not exercise the power they ought. He told the King and the ladies plainly, speaking of death and of the skulls and bones of dead men and women,1 how there is no difference; that nobody could tell that of the great Marius or Alexander from a pyoneer; nor, for all the pains the ladies take with their faces, he that should look in a charnels-house could not distinguish which was Cleopatra’s, or fair Rosamond’s, or Jane Shoare’s.
Thence by water home. After dinner to the office, thence with my wife to see my father and discourse how he finds Tom’s matters, which he do very ill, and that he finds him to have been so negligent, that he used to trust his servants with cutting out of clothes, never hardly cutting out anything himself; and, by the abstract of his accounts, we find him to owe above 290l., and to be coming to him under 200l.
Thence home with my wife, it being very dirty on foot, and bought some fowl in Gracious Street and some oysters against our feast to-morrow. So home, and after at the office a while, home to supper and to bed.
Up very betimes and to my office, and there read over some papers against a meeting by and by at this office of Mr. Povy, Sir W. Rider, Creed, and Vernaty, and Mr. Gauden about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts for Tangier, wherein we proceeded a good way; but, Lord! to see how ridiculous Mr. Povy is in all he says or do; like a man not more fit for to be in such employments as he is, and particularly that of Treasurer (paying many and very great sums without the least written order) as he is to be King of England, and seems but this day, after much discourse of mine, to be sensible of that part of his folly, besides a great deal more in other things. This morning in discourse Sir W. Rider [said], that he hath kept a journals of his life for almost these forty years, even to this day and still do, which pleases me mightily.
That being done Sir J. Minnes and I sat all the morning, and then I to the ’Change, and there got away by pretence of business with my uncle Wight to put off Creed, whom I had invited to dinner, and so home, and there found Madam Turner, her daughter The., Joyce Norton, my father and Mr. Honywood, and by and by come my uncle Wight and aunt. This being my solemn feast for my cutting of the stone, it being now, blessed be God! this day six years since the time; and I bless God I do in all respects find myself free from that disease or any signs of it, more than that upon the least cold I continue to have pain in making water, by gathering of wind and growing costive, till which be removed I am at no ease, but without that I am very well. One evil more I have, which is that upon the least squeeze almost my cods begin to swell and come to great pain, which is very strange and troublesome to me, though upon the speedy applying of a poultice it goes down again, and in two days I am well again.
Dinner not being presently ready I spent some time myself and shewed them a map of Tangier left this morning at my house by Creed, cut by our order, the Commissioners, and drawn by Jonas Moore, which is very pleasant, and I purpose to have it finely set out and hung up.
After dinner Sir W. Batten sent to speak with me, and told me that he had proffered our bill today in the House, and that it was read without any dissenters, and he fears not but will pass very well, which I shall be glad of. He told me also how Sir [Richard] Temple hath spoke very discontentfull words in the House about the Tryennial Bill; but it hath been read the second time to-day, and committed; and, he believes, will go on without more ado, though there are many in the House are displeased at it, though they dare not say much. But above all expectation, Mr. Prin is the man against it, comparing it to the idoll whose head was of gold, and his body and legs and feet of different metal. So this Bill had several degrees of calling of Parliaments, in case the King, and then the Council, and then the Lord Chancellor, and then the Sheriffes, should fail to do it.
He tells me also, how, upon occasion of some ’prentices being put in the pillory to-day for beating of their masters, or some such like thing, in Cheapside, a company of ’prentices came and rescued them, and pulled down the pillory; and they being set up again, did the like again. So that the Lord Mayor and Major Generall Browne was fain to come and stay there, to keep the peace; and drums, all up and down the city, was beat to raise the trained bands, for to quiett the towne, and by and by, going out with my uncle and aunt Wight by coach with my wife through Cheapside (the rest of the company after much content and mirth being broke up), we saw a trained band stand in Cheapside upon their guard. We went, much against my uncle’s will, as far almost as Hyde Park, he and my aunt falling out all the way about it, which vexed me, but by this I understand my uncle more than ever I did, for he was mighty soon angry, and wished a pox take her, which I was sorry to hear. The weather I confess turning on a sudden to rain did make it very unpleasant, but yet there was no occasion in the world for his being so angry, but she bore herself very discreetly, and I must confess she proves to me much another woman than I thought her, but all was peace again presently, and so it raining very fast, we met many brave coaches coming from the Parke and so we turned and set them down at home, and so we home ourselves, and ended the day with great content to think how it hath pleased the Lord in six years time to raise me from a condition of constant and dangerous and most painfull sicknesse and low condition and poverty to a state of constant health almost, great honour and plenty, for which the Lord God of heaven make me truly thankfull.
My wife found her gowne come home laced, which is indeed very handsome, but will cost me a great deal of money, more than ever I intended, but it is but for once. So to the office and did business, and then home and to bed.
(Lord’s day). Lay long in bed wrangling with my wife about the charge she puts me to at this time for clothes more than I intended, and very angry we were, but quickly friends again. And so rising and ready I to my office, and there fell upon business, and then to dinner, and then to my office again to my business, and by and by in the afternoon walked forth towards my father’s, but it being church time, walked to St. James’s, to try if I could see the belle Butler, but could not; only saw her sister, who indeed is pretty, with a fine Roman nose. Thence walked through the ducking-pond fields; but they are so altered since my father used to carry us to Islington, to the old man’s, at the King’s Head, to eat cakes and ale (his name was Pitts) that I did not know which was the ducking-pond nor where I was. So through F[l]ee[t] lane to my father’s, and there met Mr. Moore, and discoursed with him and my father about who should administer for my brother Tom, and I find we shall have trouble in it, but I will clear my hands of it, and what vexed me, my father seemed troubled that I should seem to rely so wholly upon the advice of Mr. Moore, and take nobody else, but I satisfied him, and so home; and in Cheapside, both coming and going, it was full of apprentices, who have been here all this day, and have done violence, I think, to the master of the boys that were put in the pillory yesterday. But, Lord! to see how the train-bands are raised upon this: the drums beating every where as if an enemy were upon them; so much is this city subject to be put into a disarray upon very small occasions. But it was pleasant to hear the boys, and particularly one little one, that I demanded the business. He told me that that had never been done in the city since it was a city, two prentices put in the pillory, and that it ought not to be so.
So I walked home, and then it being fine moonshine with my wife an houre in the garden, talking of her clothes against Easter and about her mayds, Jane being to be gone, and the great dispute whether Besse, whom we both love, should be raised to be chamber-mayde or no. We have both a mind to it, but know not whether we should venture the making her proud and so make a bad chamber-mayde of a very good natured and sufficient cook-mayde.
So to my office a little, and then to supper, prayers and to bed.
This is the first morning that I have begun, and I hope shall continue to rise betimes in the morning, and so up and to my office, and thence about 7 o’clock to T. Trice, and advised with him about our administering to my brother Tom, and I went to my father and told him what to do; which was to administer and to let my cozen Scott have a letter of Atturny to follow the business here in his absence for him, who by that means will have the power of paying himself (which we cannot however hinder) and do us a kindness we think too. But, Lord! what a shame, methinks, to me, that, in this condition, and at this age, I should know no better the laws of my owne country!
Thence to Westminster Hall, and spent till noon, it being Parliament time, and at noon walked with Creed into St. James’s Parke, talking of many things, particularly of the poor parts and great unfitness for business of Mr. Povy, and yet what a show he makes in the world. Mr. Coventry not being come to his chamber, I walked through the house with him for an hour in St. James’s fields’ talking of the same subject, and then parted, and back and with great impatience, sometimes reading, sometimes walking, sometimes thinking that Mr. Coventry, though he invited us to dinner with him, was gone with the rest of the office without a dinner. At last, at past 4 o’clock I heard that the Parliament was not up yet, and so walked to Westminster Hall, and there found it so, and meeting with Sir J. Minnes, and being very hungry, went over with him to the Leg, and before we had cut a bit, the House rises, however we eat a bit and away to St. James’s and there eat a second part of our dinner with Mr. Coventry and his brother Harry, Sir W. Batten and Sir W. Pen.
The great matter today in the House hath been, that Mr. Vaughan, the great speaker, is this day come to towne, and hath declared himself in a speech of an houre and a half, with great reason and eloquence, against the repealing of the Bill for Triennial Parliaments; but with no successe: but the House have carried it that there shall be such Parliaments, but without any coercive power upon the King, if he will bring this Act. But, Lord! to see how the best things are not done without some design; for I perceive all these gentlemen that I was with to-day were against it (though there was reason enough on their side); yet purely, I could perceive, because it was the King’s mind to have it; and should he demand any thing else, I believe they would give it him.
But this the discontented Presbyters, and the faction of the House will be highly displeased with; but it was carried clearly against them in the House.
We had excellent good table-talke, some of which I have entered in my book of stories. So with them by coach home, and there find (bye my wife), that Father Fogourdy hath been with her to-day, and she is mightily for our going to hear a famous Reule preach at the French Embassador’s house: I pray God he do not tempt her in any matters of religion, which troubles me; and also, she had messages from her mother to-day, who sent for her old morning-gown, which was almost past wearing; and I used to call it her kingdom, from the ease and content she used to have in the wearing of it. I am glad I do not hear of her begging any thing of more value, but I do not like that these messages should now come all upon Monday morning, when my wife expects of course I should be abroad at the Duke’s.
To the office, where Mr. Norman came and showed me a design of his for the storekeeper’s books, for the keeping of them regular in order to a balance, which I am mightily satisfied to see, and shall love the fellow the better, as he is in all things sober, so particularly for his endeavour to do something in this thing so much wanted.
So late home to supper and to bed, weary-with walking so long to no purpose in the Park to-day.
Was called up this morning by a messenger from Sir G. Carteret to come to him to Sir W. Batten’s, and so I rose and thither to him, and with him and Sir J. Minnes to, Sir G. Carteret’s to examine his accounts, and there we sat at it all the morning. About noon Sir W. Batten came from the House of Parliament and told us our Bill for our office was read the second time to-day, with great applause, and is committed. By and by to dinner, where good cheere, and Sir G. Carteret in his humour a very good man, and the most kind father and pleased father in his children that ever I saw. Here is now hung up a picture of my Lady Carteret, drawn by Lilly, a very fine picture, but yet not so good as I have seen of his doing. After dinner to the business again without any intermission till almost night, and then home, and took coach to my father to see and discourse with him, and so home again and to my office, where late, and then home to bed.
Up very betimes to my office, and thence at 7 o’clock to Sir G. Carteret, and there with Sir J. Minnes made an end of his accounts, but staid not dinner, my Lady having made us drink our morning draft there of several wines, but I drank nothing but some of her coffee, which was poorly made, with a little sugar in it.
Thence to the ’Change a great while, and had good discourse with Captain Cocke at the Coffee-house about a Dutch warr, and it seems the King‘s design is by getting underhand the merchants to bring in their complaints to the Parliament, to make them in honour begin a warr, which he cannot in honour declare first, for fear they should not second him with money. Thence homewards, staying a pretty while with my little she milliner at the end of Birchin Lane, talking and buying gloves of her, and then home to dinner, and in the afternoon had a meeting upon the Chest business, but I fear unless I have time to look after it nothing will be done, and that I fear I shall not. In the evening comes Sir W. Batten, who tells us that the Committee have approved of our bill with very few amendments in words, not in matter.
So to my office, where late with Sir W. Warren, and so home to supper and to bed.
Up betimes, and to my office, where by and by comes Povy, Sir W. Rider, Mr. Bland, Creed, and Vernatty, about my Lord Peterborough’s accounts, which we now went through, but with great difficulty, and many high words between Mr. Povy and I; for I could not endure to see so many things extraordinary put in, against truthe and reason. He was very angry, but I endeavoured all I could to profess my satisfaction in my Lord’s part of the accounts, but not in those foolish idle things, they say I said, that others had put in.
Anon we rose and parted, both of us angry, but I contented, because I knew all of them must know I was in the right. Then with Creed to Deptford, where I did a great deal of business enquiring into the business of canvas and other things with great content, and so walked back again, good discourse between Creed and I by the way, but most upon the folly of Povy, and at home found Luellin, and so we to dinner, and thence I to the office, where we sat all the afternoon late, and being up and my head mightily crowded with business, I took my wife by coach to see my father. I left her at his house and went to him to an alehouse hard by, where my cozen Scott was, and my father’s new tenant, Langford, a tailor, to whom I have promised my custom, and he seems a very modest, carefull young man. Thence my wife coming with the coach to the alley end I home, and after supper to the making up my monthly accounts, and to my great content find myself worth above 900l., the greatest sum I ever yet had. Having done my accounts, late to bed.
My head of late mighty full of business, and with good content to myself in it, though sometimes it troubles me that nobody else but I should bend themselves to serve the King with that diligence, whereby much of my pains proves ineffectual.