History of Epsom

Epsom is in Surrey.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 25 July 1663. 25 Jul 1663. Up and to my office setting papers in order for these two or three days, in which I have been hindered a little, and then having intended this day to go to Banstead Downs to see a famous race, I sent Will to get himself ready to go with me, and I also by and by home and put on my riding suit, and being ready came to the office to Sir J. Minnes (64) and Sir W. Batten (62), and did a little of course at the office this morning, and so by boat to White Hall, where I hear that the race is put off, because the Lords do sit in Parliament to-day. However, having appointed Mr. Creed to come to me to Fox Hall, I went over thither, and after some debate, Creed and I resolved to go to Clapham, to Mr. Gauden's, who had sent his coach to their place for me because I was to have my horse of him to go to the race. So I went thither by coach and my Will by horse with me; Mr. Creed he went over back again to Westminster to fetch his horse. When I came to Mr. Gauden's one first thing was to show me his house, which is almost built, wherein he and his family live. I find it very regular and finely contrived, and the gardens and offices about it as convenient and as full of good variety as ever I saw in my life. It is true he hath been censured for laying out so much money; but he tells me that he built it for his brother, who is since dead (the Bishop), who when he should come to be Bishop of Winchester, which he was promised (to which bishoprick at present there is no house), he did intend to dwell here. Besides, with the good husbandry in making his bricks and other things I do not think it costs him so much money as people think and discourse.
By and by to dinner, and in comes Mr. Creed. I saluted Mr. Gauden's lady, and the young ladies, he having many pretty children, and his sister, the Bishop's widow (53); who was, it seems, Sir W. Russel's (88) daughter, the Treasurer of the Navy; who by her discourse at dinner I find to be very well-bred, and a woman of excellent discourse, even so much as to have my attention all dinner with much more pleasure than I did give to Mr. Creed, whose discourse was mighty merry in inveighing at Mr. Gauden's victuals that they had at sea the last voyage that he prosecuted, till methought the woman began to take it seriously.
After dinner by Mr. Gauden's motion we got Mrs. Gauden and her sister to sing to a viall, on which Mr. Gauden's eldest son (a pretty man, but a simple one methinks) played but very poorly, and the musique bad, but yet I commended it. Only I do find that the ladies have been taught to sing and do sing well now, but that the viall puts them out. I took the viall and played some things from one of their books, Lyra lessons, which they seemed to like well. Thus we pass an hour or two after dinner and towards the evening we bade them Adieu! and took horse; being resolved that, instead of the race which fails us, we would go to Epsum.
So we set out, and being gone a little way I sent home Will to look to the house, and Creed and I rode forward; the road being full of citizens going and coming toward Epsum, where, when we came, we could hear of no lodging, the town so full; but which was better, I went towards Ashted, my old place of pleasure; and there by direction of one goodman Arthur, whom we met on the way, we went to Farmer Page's, at which direction he and I made good sport, and there we got a lodging in a little hole we could not stand upright in, but rather than go further to look we staid there, and while supper was getting ready I took him to walk up and down behind my cozen Pepys's house that was, which I find comes little short of what I took it to be when I was a little boy, as things use commonly to appear greater than then when one comes to be a man and knows more, and so up and down in the closes, which I know so well methinks, and account it good fortune that I lie here that I may have opportunity to renew my old walks. It seems there is one Mr. Rouse, they call him the Queen's (24) Tailor, that lives there now.
So to our lodging to supper, and among other meats had a brave dish of cream, the best I ever eat in my life, and with which we pleased ourselves much, and by and by to bed, where, with much ado yet good sport, we made shift to lie, but with little ease, and a little spaniel by us, which has followed us all the way, a pretty dogg, and we believe that follows my horse, and do belong to Mrs. Gauden, which we, therefore, are very careful of.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 July 1663. 26 Jul 1663. Lord's Day. Up and to the Wells1, where great store of citizens, which was the greatest part of the company, though there were some others of better quality. I met many that I knew, and we drank each of us two pots and so walked away, it being very pleasant to see how everybody turns up his tail, here one and there another, in a bush, and the women in their quarters the like.
Thence I walked with Creed to Mr. Minnes's house, which has now a very good way made to it, and thence to Durdans and walked round it and within the Court Yard and to the Bowling-green, where I have seen so much mirth in my time; but now no family in it (my Lord Barkeley (61), whose it is, being with his family at London), and so up and down by Minnes's wood, with great pleasure viewing my old walks, and where Mrs. Hely and I did use to walk and talk, with whom I had the first sentiments of love and pleasure in woman's company, discourse, and taking her by the hand, she being a pretty woman.
So I led him to Ashted Church (by the place where Peter, my cozen's man, went blindfold and found a certain place we chose for him upon a wager), where we had a dull Doctor, one Downe, worse than I think even parson King was, of whom we made so much scorn, and after sermon home, and staid while our dinner, a couple of large chickens, were dressed, and a good mess of cream, which anon we had with good content, and after dinner (we taking no notice of other lodgers in the house, though there was one that I knew, and knew and spoke to me, one Mr. Rider, a merchant), he and I to walk, and I led him to the pretty little wood behind my cozens house, into which we got at last by clambering, and our little dog with us, but when we were among the hazel trees and bushes, Lord! what a course did we run for an hour together, losing ourselves, and indeed I despaired I should ever come to any path, but still from thicket to thicket, a thing I could hardly have believed a man could have been lost so long in so small a room. At last I found out a delicate walk in the middle that goes quite through the wood, and then went out of the wood, and holloed Mr. Creed, and made him hunt me from place to place, and at last went in and called him into my fine walk, the little dog still hunting with us through the wood. In this walk being all bewildered and weary and sweating, Creed he lay down upon the ground, which I did a little, but I durst not long, but walked from him in the fine green walk, which is half a mile long, there reading my vows as I used to on Sundays. And after that was done, and going and lying by Creed an hour, he and I rose and went to our lodging and paid our reckoning, and so mounted, whether to go toward London home or to find a new lodging, and so rode through Epsum, the whole town over, seeing the various companys that were there walking; which was very pleasant to see how they are there without knowing almost what to do, but only in the morning to drink waters. But, Lord! to see how many I met there of citizens, that I could not have thought to have seen there, or that they had ever had it in their heads or purses to go down thither.
We rode out of the town through Yowell beyond Nonesuch House a mile, and there our little dogg, as he used to do, fell a-running after a flock of sheep feeding on the common, till he was out of sight, and then endeavoured to come back again, and went to the last gate that he parted with us at, and there the poor thing mistakes our scent, instead of coming forward he hunts us backward, and runs as hard as he could drive back towards Nonesuch, Creed and I after him, and being by many told of his going that way and the haste he made, we rode still and passed him through Yowell, and there we lost any further information of him. However, we went as far as Epsum almost, hearing nothing of him, we went back to Yowell, and there was told that he did pass through the town. We rode back to Nonesuch to see whether he might be gone back again, but hearing nothing we with great trouble and discontent for the loss of our dogg came back once more to Yowell, and there set up our horses and selves for all night, employing people to look for the dogg in the town, but can hear nothing of him. However, we gave order for supper, and while that was dressing walked out through Nonesuch Park to the house, and there viewed as much as we could of the outside, and looked through the great gates, and found a noble court; and altogether believe it to have been a very noble house, and a delicate park about it, where just now there was a doe killed, for the King (33) to carry up to Court. So walked back again, and by and by our supper being ready, a good leg of mutton boiled, we supped and to bed, upon two beds in the same room, wherein we slept most excellently all night.
Note 1. Epsom medicinal wells were discovered about 1618, but they did not become fashionable until the Restoration. John Toland, in his "Description of Epsom", says that he often counted seventy coaches in the Ring (the present racecourse on the Downs) on a Sunday evening; but by the end of the eighteenth century Epsom had entirely lost its vogue.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 13 August 1664. 13 Aug 1664. Up, and before I went to the office comes my Taylor with a coate I have made to wear within doors, purposely to come no lower than my knees, for by my wearing a gowne within doors comes all my tenderness about my legs. There comes also Mr. Reeve, with a microscope and scotoscope1. For the first I did give him £5 10s., a great price, but a most curious bauble it is, and he says, as good, nay, the best he knows in England, and he makes the best in the world. The other he gives me, and is of value; and a curious curiosity it is to look objects in a darke room with.
Mightly pleased with this I to the office, where all the morning. There offered by Sir W. Pen (43) his coach to go to Epsum and carry my wife, I stept out and bade my wife make her ready, but being not very well and other things advising me to the contrary, I did forbear going, and so Mr. Creed dining with me I got him to give my wife and me a play this afternoon, lending him money to do it, which is a fallacy that I have found now once, to avoyde my vowe with, but never to be more practised I swear, and to the new play, at the Duke's house, of "Henry the Fifth"; a most noble play, writ by my Lord Orrery (43); wherein Betterton (29), Harris (30), and Ianthe's (27) parts are most incomparably wrote and done, and the whole play the most full of height and raptures of wit and sense, that ever I heard; having but one incongruity, or what did, not please me in it, that is, that King Harry promises to plead for Tudor to their Mistresse, Princesse Katherine of France, more than when it comes to it he seems to do; and Tudor refused by her with some kind of indignity, not with a difficulty and honour that it ought to have been done in to him.
Thence home and to my office, wrote by the post, and then to read a little in Dr. Power's book of discovery by the microscope to enable me a little how to use and what to expect from my glasse.
So to supper and to bed.
Note 1. An optical instrument used to enable objects to be seen in the dark. The name is derived from the Greek.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 16 August 1664. 16 Aug 1664. Wakened about two o'clock this morning with the noise of thunder, which lasted for an houre, with such continued lightnings, not flashes, but flames, that all the sky and ayre was light; and that for a great while, not a minute's space between new flames all the time; such a thing as I never did see, nor could have believed had ever been in nature. And being put into a great sweat with it, could not sleep till all was over. And that accompanied with such a storm of rain as I never heard in my life. I expected to find my house in the morning overflowed with the rain breaking in, and that much hurt must needs have been done in the city with this lightning; but I find not one drop of rain in my house, nor any newes of hurt done. But it seems it has been here and all up and down the countrie hereabouts the like tempest, Sir W. Batten (63) saying much of the greatness thereof at Epsum.
Up and all the morning at the office.
At noon busy at the 'Change about one business or other, and thence home to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon very busy, and so to supper anon, and then to my office again a while, collecting observations out of Dr. Power's booke of microscopes, and so home to bed, very stormy weather to-night for winde.
This day we had newes that my Lady Pen (40) is landed and coming hither, so that I hope the family will be in better order and more neate than it hath been.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 November 1665. 10 Nov 1665. Up, and entered all my Journall since the 28th of October, having every day's passages well in my head, though it troubles me to remember it, and which I was forced to, being kept from my lodging, where my books and papers are, for several days.
So to my office, where till two or three o'clock busy before I could go to my lodging to dinner, then did it and to my office again.
In the evening newes is brought me my wife is come: so I to her, and with her spent the evening, but with no great pleasure, I being vexed about her putting away of Mary in my absence, but yet I took no notice of it at all, but fell into other discourse, and she told me, having herself been this day at my house at London, which was boldly done, to see Mary have her things, that Mr. Harrington, our neighbour, an East country merchant, is dead at Epsum of the plague, and that another neighbour of ours, Mr. Hollworthy, a very able man, is also dead by a fall in the country from his horse, his foot hanging in the stirrup, and his brains beat out. Here we sat talking, and after supper to bed.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 06 July 1667. 06 Jul 1667. Up, and to the office, where some of us sat busy all the morning.
At noon home to dinner, whither Creed come to dine with us and brings the first word I hear of the news of a peace, the King (37) having letters come to him this noon signifying that it is concluded on, and that Mr. Coventry (39) is upon his way coming over for the King's satisfaction. The news was so good and sudden that I went with great joy to Sir W. Batten (66) and then to Sir W. Pen (46) to tell it them, and so home to dinner, mighty merry, and light at my heart only on this ground, that a continuing of the war must undo us, and so though peace may do the like if we do not make good use of it to reform ourselves and get up money, yet there is an opportunity for us to save ourselves. At least, for my own particular, we shall continue well till I can get my money into my hands, and then I will shift for myself.
After dinner away, leaving Creed there, by coach to Westminster, where to the Swan and drank, and then to the Hall, and there talked a little with great joy of the peace, and then to Mrs. Martin's, where I met with the good news que elle ne est con child [That she is not with child], the fear of which she did give me the other day, had troubled me much. My joy in this made me send for wine, and thither come her sister and Mrs. Cragg, and I staid a good while there. But here happened the best instance of a woman's falseness in the world, that her sister Doll, who went for a bottle of wine, did come home all blubbering and swearing against one Captain Vandener, a Dutchman of the Rhenish wine house, that pulled her into a stable by the Dog tavern, and there did tumble her and toss her, calling him all the rogues and toads in the world, when she knows that elle hath suffered me to do any thing with her a hundred times.
Thence with joyful heart to White Hall to ask Mr. Williamson (33) the news, who told me that Mr. Coventry (39) is coming over with a project of a peace; which, if the States agree to, and our King, when their Ministers on both sides have shewed it them, we shall agree, and that is all: but the King (37), I hear, do give it out plain that the peace is concluded.
Thence by coach home, and there wrote a few letters, and then to consult with my wife about going to Epsum to-morrow, sometimes designing to go and then again not; and at last it grew late and I bethought myself of business to employ me at home tomorrow, and so I did not go. This afternoon I met with Mr. Rolt, who tells me that he is going Cornett under Collonel Ingoldsby (49), being his old acquaintance, and Ingoldsby hath a troop now from under the King (37), and I think it is a handsome way for him, but it was an ominous thing, methought, just as he was bidding me his last adieu, his nose fell a-bleeding, which ran in my mind a pretty while after. This afternoon Sir Alexander Frazier (57), who was of council for Sir J. Minnes (68), and had given him over for a dead man, said to me at White Hall:—"What", says he, "Sir J. Minnes (68) is dead". I told him, "No! but that there is hopes of his life". Methought he looked very sillily after it, and went his way. Late home to supper, a little troubled at my not going to Epsum to-morrow, as I had resolved, especially having the Duke of York (33) and Sir W. Coventry (39) out of town, but it was my own fault and at last my judgment to stay, and so to supper and to bed. This day, with great satisfaction, I hear that my Lady Jemimah is brought to bed, at Hinchingbroke, of a boy.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 13 July 1667. 13 Jul 1667. Up pretty betimes, it being mighty hot weather, I lying this night, which I have not done, I believe, since a boy, I am sure not since I had the stone before, with only a rugg and a sheet upon me. To my chamber, and my wife up to do something, and by chance we fell out again, but I to the office, and there we did at the board much business, though the most was the dividing of £5000 which the Lords Commissioners have with great difficulty found upon our letter to them this week that would have required £50,000 among a great many occasions.
After rising, my Lord Anglesey (53), this being the second time of his being with us, did take me aside and asked me where I lived, because he would be glad to have some discourse with me. This I liked well enough, and told him I would wait upon him, which I will do, and so all broke up, and I home to dinner, where Mr. Pierce dined with us, who tells us what troubles me, that my Lord Buckhurst (24) hath got Nell (17) away from the King's house, lies with her, and gives her £100 a year, so as she hath sent her parts to the house, and will act no more1.
And yesterday Sir Thomas Crew (43) told me that Lacy (52) lies a-dying of the pox, and yet hath his whore by him, whom he will have to look on, he says, though he can do no more; nor would receive any ghostly advice from a Bishop, an old acquaintance of his, that went to see him. He says there is a strangeness between the King (37) and my Baroness Castlemayne (26), as I was told yesterday.
After dinner my wife and I to the New Exchange, to pretty maid Mrs. Smith's shop, where I left my wife, and I to Sir W. Coventry (39), and there had the opportunity of talk with him, who I perceive do not like our business of the change of the Treasurer's hand, and he tells me that he is entered the lists with this new Treasurer before the King (37) in taking away the business of the Victualling money from his hand, and the Regiment, and declaring that he hath no right to the 3d. per by his patent, for that it was always heretofore given by particular Privy Seal, and that the King (37) and Council just upon his coming in had declared £2000 a year sufficient. This makes him angry, but Sir W. Coventry (39) I perceive cares not, but do every day hold up his head higher and higher, and this day I have received an order from the Commissioners of the Treasury to pay no more pensions for Tangier, which I am glad of, and he tells me they do make bold with all things of that kind.
Thence I to White Hall, and in the street I spied Mrs. Borroughs, and took a means to meet and salute her and talk a little, and then parted, and I home by coach, taking up my wife at the Exchange, and there I am mightily pleased with this Mrs. Smith, being a very pleasant woman.
So home, and resolved upon going to Epsum tomorrow, only for ayre, and got Mrs. Turner (44) to go with us, and so home and to supper (after having been at the office) and to bed. It is an odd and sad thing to say, that though this be a peace worse than we had before, yet every body's fear almost is, that the Dutch will not stand by their promise, now the King (37) hath consented to all they would have. And yet no wise man that I meet with, when he comes to think of it, but wishes, with all his heart, a war; but that the King (37) is not a man to be trusted with the management of it. It was pleasantly said by a man in this City, a stranger, to one that told him that the peace was concluded, "Well", says he, "and have you a peace?"—"Yes", says the other.—"Why, then", says he, "hold your peace!" partly reproaching us with the disgracefulness of it, that it is not fit to be mentioned; and next, that we are not able to make the Dutch keep it, when they have a mind to break it. Sir Thomas Crew (43) yesterday, speaking of the King of France (28), how great a man he is, why, says he, all the world thought that when the last Pope died, there would have been such bandying between the Crowns of France and Spain, whereas, when he was asked what he would have his ministers at Rome do, why, says he, let them choose who they will; if the Pope will do what is fit, the Pope and I will be friends. If he will not, I will take a course with him: therefore, I will not trouble myself; and thereupon the election was despatched in a little time—I think in a day, and all ended2.
Note 1. Lord Buckhurst (24) and Nell Gwyn (17), with the help of Sir Charles Sedley (28), kept "merry house" at Epsom next door to the King's Head Inn (see Cunningham's "Story of Nell Gwyn", ed. 1892, p. 57).
Note 2. Of Clement IX., Giulio Rispogliosi, elected June 20th, 1667, N.S. He was succeeded by Clement X. in 1670.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 July 1667. 14 Jul 1667. Lord's Day. Up, and my wife, a little before four, and to make us ready; and by and by Mrs. Turner (44) come to us, by agreement, and she and I staid talking below, while my wife dressed herself, which vexed me that she was so long about it keeping us till past five o'clock before she was ready. She ready; and, taking some bottles of wine, and beer, and some cold fowle with us into the coach, we took coach and four horses, which I had provided last night, and so away.
A very fine day, and so towards Epsum, talking all the way pleasantly, and particularly of the pride and ignorance of Mrs. Lowther, in having of her train carried up? The country very fine, only the way very dusty. We got to Epsum by eight o'clock, to the well; where much company, and there we 'light, and I drank the water: they did not, but do go about and walk a little among the women, but I did drink four pints, and had some very good stools by it. Here I met with divers of our town, among others with several of the tradesmen of our office, but did talk but little with them, it growing hot in the sun, and so we took coach again and to the towne, to the King's Head, where our coachman carried us, and there had an ill room for us to go into, but the best in the house that was not taken up. Here we called for drink, and bespoke dinner; and hear that my Lord Buckhurst (24) and Nelly (17) are lodged at the next house, and Sir Charles Sidly (28) with them and keep a merry house. Poor girl (17)! I pity her; but more the loss of her at the King's house. Here I saw Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten's (66) clerk that hath been long sick, he looks like a dying man, with a consumption got, as is believed, by the pox, but God knows that the man is in a sad condition, though he finds himself much better since his coming thither, he says. W. Hewer (25) rode with us, and I left him and the women, and myself walked to church, where few people, contrary to what I expected, and none I knew, but all the Houblons, brothers, and them after sermon I did salute, and walk with towards my inne, which was in their way to their lodgings. They come last night to see their elder brother, who stays here at the waters, and away to-morrow. James (37) did tell me that I was the only happy man of the Navy, of whom, he says, during all this freedom the people have taken of speaking treason, he hath not heard one bad word of me, which is a great joy to me; for I hear the same of others, but do know that I have deserved as well as most. We parted to meet anon, and I to my women into a better room, which the people of the house borrowed for us, and there to dinner, a good dinner, and were merry, and Pendleton come to us, who happened to be in the house, and there talked and were merry.
After dinner, he gone, we all lay down after dinner (the day being wonderful hot) to sleep, and each of us took a good nap, and then rose; and Tom Wilson come to see me, and sat and talked an hour; and I perceive he hath been much acquainted with Dr. Fuller (59) (Tom) and Dr. Pierson (54), and several of the great cavalier parsons during the late troubles; and I was glad to hear him talk of them, which he did very ingeniously, and very much of Dr. Fuller's (59) art of memory, which he did tell me several instances of.
By and by he parted, and we took coach and to take the ayre, there being a fine breeze abroad; and I went and carried them to the well, and there filled some bottles of water to carry home with me; and there talked with the two women that farm the well, at £12 per annum, of the lord of the manor, Mr. Evelyn (50) (who with his lady, and also my Lord George Barkeley's (39) lady, and their fine daughter (17), that the King of France (28) liked so well, and did dance so rich in jewells before the King (37) at the Ball I was at, at our Court, last winter, and also their son (18), a Knight of the Bath, were at church this morning).
Here W. Hewer's (25) horse broke loose, and we had the sport to see him taken again. Then I carried them to see my cozen Pepys's (91) house, and 'light, and walked round about it, and they like it, as indeed it deserves, very well, and is a pretty place; and then I walked them to the wood hard by, and there got them in the thickets till they had lost themselves, and I could not find the way into any of the walks in the wood, which indeed are very pleasant, if I could have found them. At last got out of the wood again; and I, by leaping down the little bank, coming out of the wood, did sprain my right foot, which brought me great present pain, but presently, with walking, it went away for the present, and so the women and W. Hewer (25) and I walked upon the Downes, where a flock of sheep was; and the most pleasant and innocent sight that ever I saw in my life—we find a shepherd and his little boy reading, far from any houses or sight of people, the Bible to him; so I made the boy read to me, which he did, with the forced tone that children do usually read, that was mighty pretty, and then I did give him something, and went to the father, and talked with him; and I find he had been a servant in my cozen Pepys's house, and told me what was become of their old servants. He did content himself mightily in my liking his boy's reading, and did bless God for him, the most like one of the old patriarchs that ever I saw in my life, and it brought those thoughts of the old age of the world in my mind for two or three days after. We took notice of his woolen knit stockings of two colours mixed, and of his shoes shod with iron shoes, both at the toe and heels, and with great nails in the soles of his feet, which was mighty pretty: and, taking notice of them, "Why", says the poor man, "the downes, you see, are full of stones, and we are faine to shoe ourselves thus; and these", says he, "will make the stones fly till they sing before me". I did give the poor man something, for which he was mighty thankful, and I tried to cast stones with his horne crooke. He values his dog mightily, that would turn a sheep any way which he would have him, when he goes to fold them: told me there was about eighteen scoare sheep in his flock, and that he hath four shillings a week the year round for keeping of them: so we posted thence with mighty pleasure in the discourse we had with this poor man, and Mrs. Turner (44), in the common fields here, did gather one of the prettiest nosegays that ever I saw in my life.
So to our coach, and through Mr. Minnes's wood, and looked upon Mr. Evelyn's (50) house; and so over the common, and through Epsum towne to our inne, in the way stopping a poor woman with her milk-pail, and in one of my gilt tumblers did drink our bellyfulls of milk, better than any creame; and so to our inne, and there had a dish of creame, but it was sour, and so had no pleasure in it; and so paid our reckoning, and took coach, it being about seven at night, and passed and saw the people walking with their wives and children to take the ayre, and we set out for home, the sun by and by going down, and we in the cool of the evening all the way with much pleasure home, talking and pleasing ourselves with the pleasure of this day's work, Mrs. Turner (44) mightily pleased with my resolution, which, I tell her, is never to keep a country-house, but to keep a coach, and with my wife on the Saturday to go sometimes for a day to this place, and then quit to another place; and there is more variety and as little charge, and no trouble, as there is in a country-house.
Anon it grew dark, and as it grew dark we had the pleasure to see several glow-wormes, which was mighty pretty, but my foot begins more and more to pain me, which Mrs. Turner (44), by keeping her warm hand upon it, did much ease; but so that when we come home, which was just at eleven at night, I was not able to walk from the lane's end to my house without being helped, which did trouble me, and therefore to bed presently, but, thanks be to God, found that I had not been missed, nor any business happened in my absence.
So to bed, and there had a cerecloth laid to my foot and leg alone, but in great pain all night long.

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On 31 Aug 1701 Edward Henry Calvert 1701-1730 was born to Benedict Calvert 4th Baron Baltimore 1679-1715 (22) and Charlotte Lee Baroness Baltimore 1679-1721 (22) at Epsom. He a great grandson of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685.

On 19 Jul 1703 Jane Calvert 1703-1778 was born to Benedict Calvert 4th Baron Baltimore 1679-1715 (24) and Charlotte Lee Baroness Baltimore 1679-1721 (24) at Epsom. She a great granddaughter of Charles II King England Scotland and Ireland 1630-1685.

On 28 Jun 1716 George Fitzroy 1st Duke Northumberland 1665-1716 (50) died at Epsom without legitimate issue. Duke Northumberland 2C 1683, Earl of Northumberland 4C 1674 extinct.

Carshalton, Epsom, Surrey

1840. Ramsay Richard Reinagle Painter 1775-1862 (63). A View of Carshalton.

1840. Ramsay Richard Reinagle Painter 1775-1862. A View of Carshalton.

Sibylle Flanders -1223 was born to Guillaume Flanders 1088-1130 at Carshalton.

Durdans, Epsom, Surrey

John Evelyn's Diary 14 August 1658. 14 Aug 1658. We went to Durdans [at Epsom] to a challenged match at bowls for £10, which we won.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 September 1662. 01 Sep 1662. Up betimes at my lodging and to my office and among my workmen, and then with Sir W. Batten (61) and Sir W. Pen (41) by coach to St. James's, this being the first day of our meeting there by the Duke's (28) order; but when we come, we found him going out by coach with his Duchess (25), and he told us he was to go abroad with the Queen (23) to-day (to Durdans, it seems, to dine with my Lord Barkeley (34), where I have been very merry when I was a little boy); so we went and staid a little at Mr. Coventry's (34) chamber, and I to my Lord Sandwich's (37), who is gone to wait upon the King (32) and Queen (23) today.
And so Mr. Paget being there, Will Howe and I and he played over some things of Locke's that we used to play at sea, that pleased us three well, it being the first music I have heard a great while, so much has my business of late taken me off from all my former delights.
By and by by water home, and there dined alone, and after dinner with my brother Tom's (28) two men I removed all my goods out of Sir W. Pen's (41) house into one room that I have with much ado got ready at my house, and so I am to be quit of any further obligation to him.
So to my office, but missing my key, which I had in my hand just now, makes me very angry and out of order, it being a thing that I hate in others, and more in myself, to be careless of keys, I thinking another not fit to be trusted that leaves a key behind their hole. One thing more vexes me: my wife writes me from the country that her boy plays the rogue there, and she is weary of him, and complains also of her maid Sarah, of which I am also very sorry. Being thus out of temper, I could do little at my office, but went home and eat a bit, and so to my lodging to bed.

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John Evelyn's Diary 01 September 1662. 01 Sep 1662. Being invited by Lord Berkeley (34), I went to Durdans, where dined his Majesty (32), the Queen (23), Duke, Duchess (25), Prince Rupert (42), Prince Edward, and abundance of noblemen. I went, after dinner, to visit my brother (45) of Woodcot, my sister having been delivered of a son a little before, but who had now been two days dead.

Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 July 1663. 26 Jul 1663. Lord's Day. Up and to the Wells1, where great store of citizens, which was the greatest part of the company, though there were some others of better quality. I met many that I knew, and we drank each of us two pots and so walked away, it being very pleasant to see how everybody turns up his tail, here one and there another, in a bush, and the women in their quarters the like.
Thence I walked with Creed to Mr. Minnes's house, which has now a very good way made to it, and thence to Durdans and walked round it and within the Court Yard and to the Bowling-green, where I have seen so much mirth in my time; but now no family in it (my Lord Barkeley (61), whose it is, being with his family at London), and so up and down by Minnes's wood, with great pleasure viewing my old walks, and where Mrs. Hely and I did use to walk and talk, with whom I had the first sentiments of love and pleasure in woman's company, discourse, and taking her by the hand, she being a pretty woman.
So I led him to Ashted Church (by the place where Peter, my cozen's man, went blindfold and found a certain place we chose for him upon a wager), where we had a dull Doctor, one Downe, worse than I think even parson King was, of whom we made so much scorn, and after sermon home, and staid while our dinner, a couple of large chickens, were dressed, and a good mess of cream, which anon we had with good content, and after dinner (we taking no notice of other lodgers in the house, though there was one that I knew, and knew and spoke to me, one Mr. Rider, a merchant), he and I to walk, and I led him to the pretty little wood behind my cozens house, into which we got at last by clambering, and our little dog with us, but when we were among the hazel trees and bushes, Lord! what a course did we run for an hour together, losing ourselves, and indeed I despaired I should ever come to any path, but still from thicket to thicket, a thing I could hardly have believed a man could have been lost so long in so small a room. At last I found out a delicate walk in the middle that goes quite through the wood, and then went out of the wood, and holloed Mr. Creed, and made him hunt me from place to place, and at last went in and called him into my fine walk, the little dog still hunting with us through the wood. In this walk being all bewildered and weary and sweating, Creed he lay down upon the ground, which I did a little, but I durst not long, but walked from him in the fine green walk, which is half a mile long, there reading my vows as I used to on Sundays. And after that was done, and going and lying by Creed an hour, he and I rose and went to our lodging and paid our reckoning, and so mounted, whether to go toward London home or to find a new lodging, and so rode through Epsum, the whole town over, seeing the various companys that were there walking; which was very pleasant to see how they are there without knowing almost what to do, but only in the morning to drink waters. But, Lord! to see how many I met there of citizens, that I could not have thought to have seen there, or that they had ever had it in their heads or purses to go down thither.
We rode out of the town through Yowell beyond Nonesuch House a mile, and there our little dogg, as he used to do, fell a-running after a flock of sheep feeding on the common, till he was out of sight, and then endeavoured to come back again, and went to the last gate that he parted with us at, and there the poor thing mistakes our scent, instead of coming forward he hunts us backward, and runs as hard as he could drive back towards Nonesuch, Creed and I after him, and being by many told of his going that way and the haste he made, we rode still and passed him through Yowell, and there we lost any further information of him. However, we went as far as Epsum almost, hearing nothing of him, we went back to Yowell, and there was told that he did pass through the town. We rode back to Nonesuch to see whether he might be gone back again, but hearing nothing we with great trouble and discontent for the loss of our dogg came back once more to Yowell, and there set up our horses and selves for all night, employing people to look for the dogg in the town, but can hear nothing of him. However, we gave order for supper, and while that was dressing walked out through Nonesuch Park to the house, and there viewed as much as we could of the outside, and looked through the great gates, and found a noble court; and altogether believe it to have been a very noble house, and a delicate park about it, where just now there was a doe killed, for the King (33) to carry up to Court. So walked back again, and by and by our supper being ready, a good leg of mutton boiled, we supped and to bed, upon two beds in the same room, wherein we slept most excellently all night.
Note 1. Epsom medicinal wells were discovered about 1618, but they did not become fashionable until the Restoration. John Toland, in his "Description of Epsom", says that he often counted seventy coaches in the Ring (the present racecourse on the Downs) on a Sunday evening; but by the end of the eighteenth century Epsom had entirely lost its vogue.

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John Evelyn's Diary 24 February 1664. 24 Feb 1664. My Lord George Berkeley (36), of Durdans, and Sir Samuel Tuke (49) came to visit me. We went on board Sir William Petty's (40) double-bottomed vessel, and so to London.

John Evelyn's Diary 04 August 1665. 04 Aug 1665. I went to Wotton with my Son and his tutor, Mr. Bohun, Fellow of New College (recommended to me by Dr. Wilkins (51), and the President of New College, Oxford), for fear of the pestilence, still increasing in London and its environs. On my return, I called at Durdans, where I found Dr. Wilkins (51), Sir William Petty (42), and Mr. Hooke (30), contriving chariots, new rigging for ships, a wheel for one to run races in, and other mechanical inventions; perhaps three such persons together were not to be found elsewhere in Europe, for parts and ingenuity.

John Evelyn's Diary 13 August 1673. 13 Aug 1673. I rode to Durdans, where I dined at my Lord Berkeley's (45) of Berkeley Castle, my old and noble friend, it being his wedding anniversary [Note. 11 Aug 1646 he married Elizabeth Massingberd Couness Berkeley -1708], where I found the Duchess of Albemarle (19), and other company, and returned home on that evening late.

Epsom Racecourse, Surrey

On 04 Jun 1913 Emily Wilding Davison 1872-1913 (40) was hit by the King's (48) horse Anmer after she had stepped into its path at Tattenham Corner during the Derby at Epsom Racecourse. The jockey Herbert Jones was injured. The King (48) and Queen (46) were present. The King recorded in his diary "a most regrettable and scandalous proceeding". She was operated on two days later, but she never regained consciousness.

1911. Luke Fildes Painter 1843-1927. Coronation Portrait of George V King United Kingdom 1865-1936.1938 to 1939. Simon Elwes Painter 1902-1975. Portrait of Victoria Mary Teck Queen Consort England 1867-1953.

Ewell, Epsom, Surrey

Stane Street to Chichester is a 91km Roman Road from Noviomagus Reginorum aka Chichester to London crossing the land of the Atrebates in use by 70AD. Its route took it from London Bridge along Newington Causeway past Merton Priory to Ewell, through Sutton, past the boundary of Nonsuch Palace to Thirty Acre Barn, then near to Juniper Hall Field Centre near Mickleham, then crossing the River Mole near to Burford Bridge southwards to Dorking (although the route here is vague) to North Holmwood, Ockley, Rowhook after which it crossed the River Arun at Alfodean Bridge where some of the timber piles on which the bridge was built are still present in the river bed. Thereafter the road travels broadly straight to Billingshurst, Pulborough where it crosses the River Arun again, then passing the Roman Villa at Bignor before entering the East Gate at Noviomagus Reginorum aka Chichester.

From 100AD to 400AD Ewell was a large Romano-British town through which Stane Street to Chichester travelled.

King's Head Inn, Epsom, Surrey

Diary of Samuel Pepys 13 July 1667. 13 Jul 1667. Up pretty betimes, it being mighty hot weather, I lying this night, which I have not done, I believe, since a boy, I am sure not since I had the stone before, with only a rugg and a sheet upon me. To my chamber, and my wife up to do something, and by chance we fell out again, but I to the office, and there we did at the board much business, though the most was the dividing of £5000 which the Lords Commissioners have with great difficulty found upon our letter to them this week that would have required £50,000 among a great many occasions.
After rising, my Lord Anglesey (53), this being the second time of his being with us, did take me aside and asked me where I lived, because he would be glad to have some discourse with me. This I liked well enough, and told him I would wait upon him, which I will do, and so all broke up, and I home to dinner, where Mr. Pierce dined with us, who tells us what troubles me, that my Lord Buckhurst (24) hath got Nell (17) away from the King's house, lies with her, and gives her £100 a year, so as she hath sent her parts to the house, and will act no more1.
And yesterday Sir Thomas Crew (43) told me that Lacy (52) lies a-dying of the pox, and yet hath his whore by him, whom he will have to look on, he says, though he can do no more; nor would receive any ghostly advice from a Bishop, an old acquaintance of his, that went to see him. He says there is a strangeness between the King (37) and my Baroness Castlemayne (26), as I was told yesterday.
After dinner my wife and I to the New Exchange, to pretty maid Mrs. Smith's shop, where I left my wife, and I to Sir W. Coventry (39), and there had the opportunity of talk with him, who I perceive do not like our business of the change of the Treasurer's hand, and he tells me that he is entered the lists with this new Treasurer before the King (37) in taking away the business of the Victualling money from his hand, and the Regiment, and declaring that he hath no right to the 3d. per by his patent, for that it was always heretofore given by particular Privy Seal, and that the King (37) and Council just upon his coming in had declared £2000 a year sufficient. This makes him angry, but Sir W. Coventry (39) I perceive cares not, but do every day hold up his head higher and higher, and this day I have received an order from the Commissioners of the Treasury to pay no more pensions for Tangier, which I am glad of, and he tells me they do make bold with all things of that kind.
Thence I to White Hall, and in the street I spied Mrs. Borroughs, and took a means to meet and salute her and talk a little, and then parted, and I home by coach, taking up my wife at the Exchange, and there I am mightily pleased with this Mrs. Smith, being a very pleasant woman.
So home, and resolved upon going to Epsum tomorrow, only for ayre, and got Mrs. Turner (44) to go with us, and so home and to supper (after having been at the office) and to bed. It is an odd and sad thing to say, that though this be a peace worse than we had before, yet every body's fear almost is, that the Dutch will not stand by their promise, now the King (37) hath consented to all they would have. And yet no wise man that I meet with, when he comes to think of it, but wishes, with all his heart, a war; but that the King (37) is not a man to be trusted with the management of it. It was pleasantly said by a man in this City, a stranger, to one that told him that the peace was concluded, "Well", says he, "and have you a peace?"—"Yes", says the other.—"Why, then", says he, "hold your peace!" partly reproaching us with the disgracefulness of it, that it is not fit to be mentioned; and next, that we are not able to make the Dutch keep it, when they have a mind to break it. Sir Thomas Crew (43) yesterday, speaking of the King of France (28), how great a man he is, why, says he, all the world thought that when the last Pope died, there would have been such bandying between the Crowns of France and Spain, whereas, when he was asked what he would have his ministers at Rome do, why, says he, let them choose who they will; if the Pope will do what is fit, the Pope and I will be friends. If he will not, I will take a course with him: therefore, I will not trouble myself; and thereupon the election was despatched in a little time—I think in a day, and all ended2.
Note 1. Lord Buckhurst (24) and Nell Gwyn (17), with the help of Sir Charles Sedley (28), kept "merry house" at Epsom next door to the King's Head Inn (see Cunningham's "Story of Nell Gwyn", ed. 1892, p. 57).
Note 2. Of Clement IX., Giulio Rispogliosi, elected June 20th, 1667, N.S. He was succeeded by Clement X. in 1670.

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Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 July 1667. 14 Jul 1667. Lord's Day. Up, and my wife, a little before four, and to make us ready; and by and by Mrs. Turner (44) come to us, by agreement, and she and I staid talking below, while my wife dressed herself, which vexed me that she was so long about it keeping us till past five o'clock before she was ready. She ready; and, taking some bottles of wine, and beer, and some cold fowle with us into the coach, we took coach and four horses, which I had provided last night, and so away.
A very fine day, and so towards Epsum, talking all the way pleasantly, and particularly of the pride and ignorance of Mrs. Lowther, in having of her train carried up? The country very fine, only the way very dusty. We got to Epsum by eight o'clock, to the well; where much company, and there we 'light, and I drank the water: they did not, but do go about and walk a little among the women, but I did drink four pints, and had some very good stools by it. Here I met with divers of our town, among others with several of the tradesmen of our office, but did talk but little with them, it growing hot in the sun, and so we took coach again and to the towne, to the King's Head, where our coachman carried us, and there had an ill room for us to go into, but the best in the house that was not taken up. Here we called for drink, and bespoke dinner; and hear that my Lord Buckhurst (24) and Nelly (17) are lodged at the next house, and Sir Charles Sidly (28) with them and keep a merry house. Poor girl (17)! I pity her; but more the loss of her at the King's house. Here I saw Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten's (66) clerk that hath been long sick, he looks like a dying man, with a consumption got, as is believed, by the pox, but God knows that the man is in a sad condition, though he finds himself much better since his coming thither, he says. W. Hewer (25) rode with us, and I left him and the women, and myself walked to church, where few people, contrary to what I expected, and none I knew, but all the Houblons, brothers, and them after sermon I did salute, and walk with towards my inne, which was in their way to their lodgings. They come last night to see their elder brother, who stays here at the waters, and away to-morrow. James (37) did tell me that I was the only happy man of the Navy, of whom, he says, during all this freedom the people have taken of speaking treason, he hath not heard one bad word of me, which is a great joy to me; for I hear the same of others, but do know that I have deserved as well as most. We parted to meet anon, and I to my women into a better room, which the people of the house borrowed for us, and there to dinner, a good dinner, and were merry, and Pendleton come to us, who happened to be in the house, and there talked and were merry.
After dinner, he gone, we all lay down after dinner (the day being wonderful hot) to sleep, and each of us took a good nap, and then rose; and Tom Wilson come to see me, and sat and talked an hour; and I perceive he hath been much acquainted with Dr. Fuller (59) (Tom) and Dr. Pierson (54), and several of the great cavalier parsons during the late troubles; and I was glad to hear him talk of them, which he did very ingeniously, and very much of Dr. Fuller's (59) art of memory, which he did tell me several instances of.
By and by he parted, and we took coach and to take the ayre, there being a fine breeze abroad; and I went and carried them to the well, and there filled some bottles of water to carry home with me; and there talked with the two women that farm the well, at £12 per annum, of the lord of the manor, Mr. Evelyn (50) (who with his lady, and also my Lord George Barkeley's (39) lady, and their fine daughter (17), that the King of France (28) liked so well, and did dance so rich in jewells before the King (37) at the Ball I was at, at our Court, last winter, and also their son (18), a Knight of the Bath, were at church this morning).
Here W. Hewer's (25) horse broke loose, and we had the sport to see him taken again. Then I carried them to see my cozen Pepys's (91) house, and 'light, and walked round about it, and they like it, as indeed it deserves, very well, and is a pretty place; and then I walked them to the wood hard by, and there got them in the thickets till they had lost themselves, and I could not find the way into any of the walks in the wood, which indeed are very pleasant, if I could have found them. At last got out of the wood again; and I, by leaping down the little bank, coming out of the wood, did sprain my right foot, which brought me great present pain, but presently, with walking, it went away for the present, and so the women and W. Hewer (25) and I walked upon the Downes, where a flock of sheep was; and the most pleasant and innocent sight that ever I saw in my life—we find a shepherd and his little boy reading, far from any houses or sight of people, the Bible to him; so I made the boy read to me, which he did, with the forced tone that children do usually read, that was mighty pretty, and then I did give him something, and went to the father, and talked with him; and I find he had been a servant in my cozen Pepys's house, and told me what was become of their old servants. He did content himself mightily in my liking his boy's reading, and did bless God for him, the most like one of the old patriarchs that ever I saw in my life, and it brought those thoughts of the old age of the world in my mind for two or three days after. We took notice of his woolen knit stockings of two colours mixed, and of his shoes shod with iron shoes, both at the toe and heels, and with great nails in the soles of his feet, which was mighty pretty: and, taking notice of them, "Why", says the poor man, "the downes, you see, are full of stones, and we are faine to shoe ourselves thus; and these", says he, "will make the stones fly till they sing before me". I did give the poor man something, for which he was mighty thankful, and I tried to cast stones with his horne crooke. He values his dog mightily, that would turn a sheep any way which he would have him, when he goes to fold them: told me there was about eighteen scoare sheep in his flock, and that he hath four shillings a week the year round for keeping of them: so we posted thence with mighty pleasure in the discourse we had with this poor man, and Mrs. Turner (44), in the common fields here, did gather one of the prettiest nosegays that ever I saw in my life.
So to our coach, and through Mr. Minnes's wood, and looked upon Mr. Evelyn's (50) house; and so over the common, and through Epsum towne to our inne, in the way stopping a poor woman with her milk-pail, and in one of my gilt tumblers did drink our bellyfulls of milk, better than any creame; and so to our inne, and there had a dish of creame, but it was sour, and so had no pleasure in it; and so paid our reckoning, and took coach, it being about seven at night, and passed and saw the people walking with their wives and children to take the ayre, and we set out for home, the sun by and by going down, and we in the cool of the evening all the way with much pleasure home, talking and pleasing ourselves with the pleasure of this day's work, Mrs. Turner (44) mightily pleased with my resolution, which, I tell her, is never to keep a country-house, but to keep a coach, and with my wife on the Saturday to go sometimes for a day to this place, and then quit to another place; and there is more variety and as little charge, and no trouble, as there is in a country-house.
Anon it grew dark, and as it grew dark we had the pleasure to see several glow-wormes, which was mighty pretty, but my foot begins more and more to pain me, which Mrs. Turner (44), by keeping her warm hand upon it, did much ease; but so that when we come home, which was just at eleven at night, I was not able to walk from the lane's end to my house without being helped, which did trouble me, and therefore to bed presently, but, thanks be to God, found that I had not been missed, nor any business happened in my absence.
So to bed, and there had a cerecloth laid to my foot and leg alone, but in great pain all night long.

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Woodcote Park, Epsom, Surrey

John Evelyn's Diary 16 August 1648. 16 Aug 1648. I went to Woodcote (in Epsom) to the wedding of my brother, Richard (25), who married the daughter (19) and coheir of Esquire Minn (67), lately deceased; by which he had a great estate both in land and money on the death of a brother. The coach in which the bride and bridegroom were, was overturned in coming home; but no harm was done.

John Evelyn's Diary 01 September 1662. 01 Sep 1662. Being invited by Lord Berkeley (34), I went to Durdans, where dined his Majesty (32), the Queen (23), Duke, Duchess (25), Prince Rupert (42), Prince Edward, and abundance of noblemen. I went, after dinner, to visit my brother (45) of Woodcot, my sister having been delivered of a son a little before, but who had now been two days dead.

John Evelyn's Diary 06 March 1670. 06 Mar 1670. Dr. Patrick preached in Covent Garden Church. I participated of the Blessed Sacrament, recommending to God the deplorable condition of my dear brother (47), who was almost in the last agonies of death. I watched late with him this night. It pleased God to deliver him out of this miserable life, toward five o'clock this Monday morning, to my unspeakable grief. He was a brother whom I most dearly loved, for his many virtues; but two years younger than myself, a sober, prudent, worthy gentleman. He had married a great fortune, and left one only daughter, and a noble seat at Woodcot, near Epsom. His body was opened, and a stone taken out of his bladder, not much bigger than a nutmeg. I returned home on the 8th, full of sadness, and to bemoan my loss.

John Evelyn's Diary 21 March 1670. 21 Mar 1670. We all accompanied the corpse of my dear brother (47) to Epsom Church, where he was decently interred in the chapel belonging to Woodcot House. A great number of friends and gentlemen of the country attended, about twenty coaches and six horses, and innumerable people.