Fenchurch Street is in City of London.
Diary of Henry Machyn March 1553. 22 Mar 1553. The xxij day of Marche was bered master Syssylle sqwyr, and gentyllman of the kynges robes, and the father unto sir Hare Sysselle knyght, and bered at saynt Margates at Westmynster, with cote armur and ys penon of armes; and he had a-nodur cote armur, and a penon, was mad and cared in-to the contrey wher he dwelt.
The sam day, wyche was the xxij day of Marche, was bered master John Heth, dwellyng in Fanchyrche strett, and ther whent a-ffor hym a C. chylderyn of Gray-freres boys and gyrlles, ij and ij (to-)gether, and he gayff them shurts and smokes, and gyrdulls, and moketors; and after thay had wy.. and fygs and good alle, and ther wher a grett dener; and ther wher the cumpene of Panters, and the Clarkes, and ys cumpony had xxs. to make mere with-alle at the tavarne.
Diary of Henry Machyn February 1557. 27 Feb 1557. The xxvij day of Feybruary cam toward London out of Skottland a duke of Muskovea, as [ambassador,] and dyvers of the marchandes of England, as we[ll as others] of all nassyons, and so they mett him be [yond] Sordyche in cottes of velvett and cottes of fyne cloth gardyd with velvett, and with frynge of sylke [and] chenys of gold; and after comys my lord Montycutte (28) and dyvers lordes and knyghtes and [gentlemen, in] gorgyus aparelle; and after comys my lord mayre and althermen in skarlett, and the enbassedur ys garment of tyssuw brodered with perlles and stones; and ys [men in] corsse cloth of gold downe to the calffe of the leg, lyke gownes, and he copyng capes, and so to master Dymmokes plasse in Fanchyrche street, the marchand; and ys cape and ys nyght cape sett with perles and stones.
Diary of Henry Machyn May 1557. 30 May 1557. The xxx day of May was a goly [goodly or jolly] May-gam in Fanch-chyrchestrett with drumes and gunes and pykes, and ix wordes [The Nine Worthies] dyd ryd; and thay had speches evere man, and the morris dansse and the sauden [sultan], and a elevant [elephant] with the castyll, and the sauden [sultan] and yonge morens [moors] with targattes and darttes, and the lord and the lade of the Maye.
Diary of Henry Machyn November 1558. 28 Nov 1558. [The xxviijth day of November the Queen (25) removed to the Tower from the lord North's] plasse, (which) was the Charter Howsse. [All] the stretes unto the towre of London was newe gravelled. Her grace rod thrugh Barbecan and Crepulgat, by [London-wall] unto Bysshope-gate, and up to Leden-halle and thrugh Gracyus strett and Fanchyrchestrett; and a-for rod gentyllmen and [many] knyghtes and lordes, and after cam all the trumpetes blohyng, and then cam all the haroldes in a-ray; and my lord of Penbroke (57) [bare the] the quen('s) sword; then cam here Grace (25) on horsbake, [apparelled] in purpull welvett with a skarpe [scarf] abowt her neke, and [the serg]anttes of armes abowt here grace; and next after rod [sir] Robart Dudley (26) the master of her horse; and so the gard with halbards. [And] ther was shyche shutyng of gunes as never was hard a-for; so to the towre, with all the nobulles. And so here Grace lay in the towre unto the v day of Dessember, that was sant Necolas evyn. And ther was in serten plasses chylderyn with speches and odur places, syngyng and playing with regalles.
Diary of Henry Machyn June 1562. 01 Jun 1562. The furst day of June was the Yrmongers' fest keptt in Fanchyrche strett be-syd .... time, and ther dynyd the ij shreyffes and (blank) althermen.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 July 1660. 14 Jul 1660. Up early and advised with my wife for the putting of all our things in a readiness to be sent to our new house. To my Lord's, where he was in bed very late. So with Major Tollhurst and others to Harper's, and I sent for my barrel of pickled oysters and there ate them; while we were doing so, comes in Mr. Pagan Fisher; the poet, and promises me what he had long ago done, a book in praise of the King of France, with my armes, and a dedication to me very handsome. After him comes Mr. Sheply come from sea yesterday, whom I was glad to see that he may ease me of the trouble of my Lord's business. So to my Lord's, where I staid doing his business and taking his commands. After that to Westminster Hall, where I paid all my debts in order to my going away from hence. Here I met with Mr. Eglin, who would needs take me to the Leg in King Street and gave me a dish of meat to dinner; and so I sent for Mons. L'Impertinent, where we sat long and were merry. After that parted, and I took Mr. Butler [Mons. L'Impertinent] with me into London by coach and shewed him my house at the Navy Office, and did give order for the laying in coals. So into Fenchurch Street, and did give him a glass of wine at Rawlinson's, and was trimmed in the street. So to my Lord's late writing letters, and so home, where I found my wife had packed up all her goods in the house fit for a removal. So to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 02 September 1661. 02 Sep 1661. In the morning to my cozen Thos. Pepys, executor, and there talked with him about my uncle Thomas, his being in the country, but he could not advise me to anything therein, not knowing what the other has done in the country, and so we parted. And so to Whitehall, and there my Lord Privy Seal, who has been out of town this week, not being yet come, we can have no seal, and therefore meeting with Mr. Battersby the apothecary in Fenchurch Street to the King's Apothecary's chamber in Whitehall, and there drank a bottle or two of wine, and so he and I by water towards London.
I landed at Blackfriars and so to the Wardrobe and dined, and then back to Whitehall with Captain Ferrers, and there walked, and thence to Westminster Hall, where we met with Mr. Pickering, and so all of us to the Rhenish wine house (Prior's), where the master of the house is laying out some money in making a cellar with an arch in his yard, which is very convenient for him. Here we staid a good while, and so Mr. Pickering and I to Westminster Hall again, and there walked an hour or two talking, and though he be a fool, yet he keeps much company, and will tell all he sees or hears, and so a man may understand what the common talk of the town is, and I find by him that there are endeavours to get my Lord out of play at sea, which I believe Mr. Coventry (33) and the Duke do think will make them more absolute; but I hope, for all this, they will not be able to do it. He tells me plainly of the vices of the Court, and how the pox is so common there, and so I hear on all hands that it is as common as eating and swearing.
From him by water to the bridge, and thence to the Mitre, where I met my uncle and aunt Wight come to see Mrs. Rawlinson (in her husband's absence out of town), and so I staid with them and Mr. Lucas and other company, very merry, and so home, Where my wife has been busy all the day making of pies, and had been abroad and bought things for herself, and tells that she met at the Change with my young ladies of the Wardrobe and there helped them to buy things, and also with Mr. Somerset, who did give her a bracelet of rings, which did a little trouble me, though I know there is no hurt yet in it, but only for fear of further acquaintance.
So to bed. This night I sent another letter to Sir W. Pen (40) to offer him the return of his tankard upon his leaving of 30s. at a place where it should be brought. The issue of which I am to expect.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 15 November 1661. 15 Nov 1661. At home all the morning, and at noon with my wife to the Wardrobe to dinner, and there, did shew herself to my Lady in the handkercher that she bought the lace for the other day, and indeed it is very handsome.
Here I left my wife and went to my Lord Privy Seal to Whitehall, and there did give him a copy of the Fees of the office as I have received them, and he was well pleased with it.
So to the Opera, where I met my wife and Captain Ferrers and Madamoiselle Le Blanc, and there did see the second part of "The Siege of Rhodes" very well done; and so by coach set her home, and the coach driving down the hill through Thames Street, which I think never any coach did before from that place to the bridge-foot, but going up Fish Street Hill his horses were so tired, that they could not be got to go up the hill, though all the street boys and men did beat and whip them. At last I was fain to send my boy for a link, and so light out of the coach till we got to another at the corner of Fenchurch Street, and so home, and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 June 1663. 04 Jun 1663. Up betimes, and my wife and Ashwell and I whiled away the morning up and down while they got themselves ready, and I did so watch to see my wife put on drawers, which poor soul she did, and yet I could not get off my suspicions, she having a mind to go into Fenchurch Street before she went out for good and all with me, which I must needs construe to be to meet Pembleton, when she afterwards told me it was to buy a fan that she had not a mind that I should know of, and I believe it is so. Specially I did by a wile get out of my boy that he did not yesterday go to Pembleton's or thereabouts, but only was sent all that time for some starch, and I did see him bringing home some, and yet all this cannot make my mind quiet. At last by coach I carried her to Westminster Hall, and they two to Mrs. Bowyer to go from thence to my wife's father's and Ashwell to hers, and by and by seeing my wife's father in the Hall, and being loth that my wife should put me to another trouble and charge by missing him to-day, I did employ a porter to go from a person unknown to tell him his daughter was come to his lodgings, and I at a distance did observe him, but, Lord! what a company of questions he did ask him, what kind of man I was, and God knows what. So he went home, and after I had staid in the Hall a good while, where I heard that this day the Archbishop of Canterbury, Juxon, a man well spoken of by all for a good man, is dead; and the Bishop of London is to have his seat.
Home by water, where by and by comes Dean Honiwood, and I showed him my double horizontal diall, and promise to give him one, and that shall be it. So, without eating or drinking, he went away to Mr. Turner's, where Sir J. Minnes (64) do treat my Chancellor (54) and a great deal of guests to-day with a great dinner, which I thank God I do not pay for; and besides, I doubt it is too late for any man to expect any great service from my Chancellor (54), for which I am sorry, and pray God a worse do not come in his room. So I to dinner alone, and so to my chamber, and then to the office alone, my head aching and my mind in trouble for my wife, being jealous of her spending the day, though God knows I have no great reason. Yet my mind is troubled.
By and by comes Will Howe to see us, and walked with me an hour in the garden, talking of my Lord's falling to business again, which I am glad of, and his coming to lie at his lodgings at White Hall again. The match between Sir J. Cutts and my Lady Jemimah, he says, is likely to go on; for which I am glad. In the Hall to-day James Pearce Surgeon tells me that the Queen (24) begins to be brisk, and play like other ladies, and is quite another woman from what she was, of which I am glad. It may be, it may make the King (33) like her the better, and forsake his two mistresses, my Baroness Castlemaine's (22) and Stewart. He gone we sat at the office till night, and then home, where my wife is come, and has been with her father all the afternoon, and so home, and she and I to walk in the garden, giving ear to her discourse of her father's affairs, and I found all well, so after putting things in order at my office, home to supper and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 October 1664. 26 Oct 1664. Up, my people rising mighty betimes, to fit themselves to go by water; and my boy, he could not sleep, but wakes about four o'clock, and in bed lay playing on his lute till daylight, and, it seems, did the like last night till twelve o'clock.
About eight o'clock, my wife, she and her woman, and Besse and Jane, and W. Hewer (22) and the boy, to the water-side, and there took boat, and by and by I out of doors, to look after the flaggon, to get it ready to carry to Woolwich. That being not ready, I stepped aside and found out Nellson, he that Whistler buys his bewpers of, and did there buy 5 pieces at their price, and am in hopes thereby to bring them down or buy ourselves all we spend of Nellson at the first hand. This jobb was greatly to my content, and by and by the flaggon being finished at the burnisher's, I home, and there fitted myself, and took a hackney-coach I hired, it being a very cold and foule day, to Woolwich, all the way reading in a good book touching the fishery, and that being done, in the book upon the statute of charitable uses, mightily to my satisfaction.
At Woolwich; I there up to the King (34) and Duke (31), and they liked the plate well. Here I staid above with them while the ship was launched, which was done with great success, and the King (34) did very much like the ship, saying, she had the best bow that ever he saw. But, Lord! the sorry talke and discourse among the great courtiers round about him, without any reverence in the world, but with so much disorder.
By and by the Queene (54) comes and her Mayds of Honour; one whereof, Mrs. Boynton, and the Duchesse of Buckingham (26), had been very siclee coming by water in the barge (the water being very rough); but what silly sport they made with them in very common terms, methought, was very poor, and below what people think these great people say and do.
The launching being done, the King (34) and company went down to take barge; and I sent for Mr. Pett (54), and put the flaggon into the Duke's (31) hand, and he, in the presence of the King (34), did give it, Mr. Pett (54) taking it upon his knee. This Mr. Pett (54) is wholly beholding to me for, and he do know and I believe will acknowledge it.
Thence I to Mr. Ackworth, and there eat and drank with Commissioner Pett (54) and his wife, and thence to Shelden's, where Sir W. Batten (63) and his Lady were.
By and by I took coach after I had enquired for my wife or her boat, but found none. Going out of the gate, an ordinary woman prayed me to give her room to London, which I did, but spoke not to her all the way, but read, as long as I could see, my book again. Dark when we came to London, and a stop of coaches in Southwarke. I staid above half an houre and then 'light, and finding Sir W. Batten's (63) coach, heard they were gone into the Beare at the bridge foot, and thither I to them. Presently the stop is removed, and then going out to find my coach, I could not find it, for it was gone with the rest; so I fair to go through the darke and dirt over the bridge, and my leg fell in a hole broke on the bridge, but, the constable standing there to keep people from it, I was catched up, otherwise I had broke my leg; for which mercy the Lord be praised! So at Fanchurch I found my coach staying for me, and so home, where the little girle hath looked to the house well, but no wife come home, which made me begin to fear [for] her, the water being very rough, and cold and darke. But by and by she and her company come in all well, at which I was glad, though angry.
Thence I to Sir W. Batten's (63), and there sat late with him, Sir R. Ford (50), and Sir John Robinson (49); the last of whom continues still the same foole he was, crying up what power he has in the City, in knowing their temper, and being able to do what he will with them. It seems the City did last night very freely lend the King (34) £100,000 without any security but the King's word, which was very noble. But this loggerhead and Sir R. Ford (50) would make us believe that they did it. Now Sir R. Ford (50) is a cunning man, and makes a foole of the other, and the other believes whatever the other tells him. But, Lord! to think that such a man should be Lieutenant of the Tower, and so great a man as he is, is a strange thing to me. With them late and then home and with my wife to bed, after supper.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 December 1664. 14 Dec 1664. Up, and after a while at the office, I abroad in several places, among others to my bookseller's, and there spoke for several books against New Year's day, I resolving to lay out about £7 or £8, God having given me some profit extraordinary of late; and bespoke also some plate, spoons, and forks. I pray God keep me from too great expenses, though these will still be pretty good money.
Then to the 'Change, and I home to dinner, where Creed and Mr. Caesar, my boy's lute master, who plays indeed mighty finely, and after dinner I abroad, parting from Creed, and away to and fro, laying out or preparing for laying out more money, but I hope and resolve not to exceed therein, and to-night spoke for some fruit for the country for my father against Christmas, and where should I do it, but at the pretty woman's, that used to stand at the doore in Fanchurch Streete, I having a mind to know her.
So home, and late at my office, evening reckonings with Shergoll, hoping to get money by the business, and so away home to supper and to bed, not being very well through my taking cold of late, and so troubled with some wind.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 June 1665. 10 Jun 1665. Lay long in bed, and then up and at the office all the morning. At noon dined at home, and then to the office busy all the afternoon.
In the evening home to supper; and there, to my great trouble, hear that the plague is come into the City (though it hath these three or four weeks since its beginning been wholly out of the City); but where should it begin but in my good friend and neighbour's, Dr. Burnett, in Fanchurch Street: which in both points troubles me mightily.
To the office to finish my letters and then home to bed, being troubled at the sicknesse, and my head filled also with other business enough, and particularly how to put my things and estate in order, in case it should please God to call me away, which God dispose of to his glory!
Diary of Samuel Pepys 15 June 1665. 15 Jun 1665. Up, and put on my new stuff suit with close knees, which becomes me most nobly, as my wife says. At the office all day.
At noon, put on my first laced band, all lace; and to Kate Joyce's to dinner, where my mother, wife, and abundance of their friends, and good usage.
Thence, wife and Mercer and I to the Old Exchange, and there bought two lace bands more, one of my semstresse, whom my wife concurs with me to be a pretty woman. So down to Deptford and Woolwich, my boy and I At Woolwich, discoursed with Mr. Sheldon about my bringing my wife down for a month or two to his house, which he approves of, and, I think, will be very convenient.
So late back, and to the office, wrote letters, and so home to supper and to bed. This day the Newes book upon Mr. Moore's showing L'Estrange1 (Captain Ferrers's letter) did do my Lord Sandwich (39) great right as to the late victory. The Duke of Yorke (31) not yet come to towne. The towne grows very sickly, and people to be afeard of it; there dying this last week of the plague 112, from 43 the week before, whereof but [one] in Fanchurch-streete, and one in Broad-streete, by the Treasurer's office.
Note 1. "The Public Intelligencer", published by Roger L'Estrange, the predecessor of the "London Gazette"..
Before 25 Aug 1665 Alexander Burnett Physician -1665 resided at Fenchurch Street.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 September 1665. 14 Sep 1665. Up, and walked to Greenwich, and there fitted myself in several businesses to go to London, where I have not been now a pretty while. But before I went from the office newes is brought by word of mouth that letters are now just now brought from the fleete of our taking a great many more of the Dutch fleete, in which I did never more plainly see my command of my temper in my not admitting myself to receive any kind of joy from it till I had heard the certainty of it, and therefore went by water directly to the Duke of Albemarle (56), where I find a letter of the Lath from Solebay, from my Lord Sandwich (40), of the fleete's meeting with about eighteen more of the Dutch fleete, and his taking of most of them; and the messenger says, they had taken three after the letter was wrote and sealed; which being twenty-one, and the fourteen took the other day, is forty-five sail; some of which are good, and others rich ships, which is so great a cause of joy in us all that my Lord and everybody is highly joyed thereat. And having taken a copy of my Lord's letter, I away back again to the Beare at the bridge foot, being full of wind and out of order, and there called for a biscuit and a piece of cheese and gill of sacke, being forced to walk over the Bridge, toward the 'Change, and the plague being all thereabouts.
Here my news was highly welcome, and I did wonder to see the 'Change so full, I believe 200 people; but not a man or merchant of any fashion, but plain men all. And Lord! to see how I did endeavour all I could to talk with as few as I could, there being now no observation of shutting up of houses infected, that to be sure we do converse and meet with people that have the plague upon them. I to Sir Robert Viner's (34), where my main business was about settling the business of Debusty's £5000 tallys, which I did for the present to enable me to have some money, and so home, buying some things for my wife in the way.
So home, and put up several things to carry to Woolwich, and upon serious thoughts I am advised by W. Griffin to let my money and plate rest there, as being as safe as any place, nobody imagining that people would leave money in their houses now, when all their families are gone. So for the present that being my opinion, I did leave them there still. But, Lord! to see the trouble that it puts a man to, to keep safe what with pain a man hath been getting together, and there is good reason for it.
Down to the office, and there wrote letters to and again about this good newes of our victory, and so by water home late. Where, when I come home I spent some thoughts upon the occurrences of this day, giving matter for as much content on one hand and melancholy on another, as any day in all my life. For the first; the finding of my money and plate, and all safe at London, and speeding in my business of money this day.
The hearing of this good news to such excess, after so great a despair of my Lord's doing anything this year; adding to that, the decrease of 500 and more, which is the first decrease we have yet had in the sickness since it begun: and great hopes that the next week it will be greater.
Then, on the other side, my finding that though the Bill in general is abated, yet the City within the walls is encreased, and likely to continue so, and is close to our house there. My meeting dead corpses of the plague, carried to be buried close to me at noon-day through the City in Fanchurch-street. To see a person sick of the sores, carried close by me by Gracechurch in a hackney-coach. My finding the Angell tavern, at the lower end of Tower-hill shut up, and more than that, the alehouse at the Tower-stairs, and more than that, the person was then dying of the plague when I was last there, a little while ago, at night, to write a short letter there, and I overheard the mistresse of the house sadly saying to her husband somebody was very ill, but did not think it was of the plague.
To hear that poor Payne, my waiter, hath buried a child, and is dying himself. To hear that a labourer I sent but the other day to Dagenhams, to know how they did there, is dead of the plague; and that one of my own watermen, that carried me daily, fell sick as soon as he had landed me on Friday morning last, when I had been all night upon the water (and I believe he did get his infection that day at Brainford), and is now dead of the plague. To hear that Captain Lambert and Cuttle are killed in the taking these ships; and that Mr. Sidney Montague (84) is sick of a desperate fever at my Baroness Carteret's (63), at Scott's-hall. To hear that Mr. Lewes hath another daughter sick.
And, lastly, that both my servants, W. Hewer (23) and Tom Edwards, have lost their fathers, both in St. Sepulchre's parish, of the plague this week, do put me into great apprehensions of melancholy, and with good reason. But I put off the thoughts of sadness as much as I can, and the rather to keep my wife in good heart and family also. After supper (having eat nothing all this day) upon a fine tench of Mr. Shelden's taking, we to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 25 April 1666. 25 Apr 1666. Up, and to White Hall to the Duke (32) as usual, and did our business there. So I away to Westminster (Balty (26) with me, whom I had presented to Sir W. Coventry (38)) and there told Mrs. Michell of her kinswoman's running away, which troubled her.
So home, and there find another little girle come from my wife's mother, likely to do well.
After dinner I to the office, where Mr. Prin (66) come to meet about the Chest business; and till company come, did discourse with me a good while alone in the garden about the laws of England, telling me the many faults in them; and among others, their obscurity through multitude of long statutes, which he is about to abstract out of all of a sort; and as he lives, and Parliaments come, get them put into laws, and the other statutes repealed, and then it will be a short work to know the law, which appears a very noble good thing.
By and by Sir W. Batten (65) and Sir W. Rider met with us, and we did something to purpose about the Chest, and hope we shall go on to do so. They up, I to present Balty (26) to Sir W. Pen (45), who at my entreaty did write a most obliging letter to Harman (41) to use him civilly, but the dissembling of the rogue is such, that it do not oblige me at all.
So abroad to my ruler's of my books, having, God forgive me! a mind to see Nan there, which I did, and so back again, and then out again to see Mrs. Bettons, who were looking out of the window as I come through Fenchurch Streete. So that indeed I am not, as I ought to be, able to command myself in the pleasures of my eye.
So home, and with my wife and Mercer spent our evening upon our new leads by our bedchamber singing, while Mrs. Mary Batelier looked out of the window to us, and we talked together, and at last bid good night. However, my wife and I staid there talking of several things with great pleasure till eleven o'clock at night, and it is a convenience I would not want for any thing in the world, it being, methinks, better than almost any roome in my house. So having, supped upon the leads, to bed. The plague, blessed be God! is decreased sixteen this week.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 12 July 1666. 12 Jul 1666. But was up again by five o'clock, and was forced to rise, having much business, and so up and dressed myself (enquiring, was told that Mrs. Tooker was gone hence to live at London) and away with Poundy to the Tower, and thence, having shifted myself, but being mighty drowsy for want of sleep, I by coach to St. James's, to Goring House, there to wait on my Lord Arlington (48) to give him an account of my night's worke, but he was not up, being not long since married: so, after walking up and down the house below,—being the house I was once at Hartlib's (66) sister's wedding, and is a very fine house and finely furnished,—and then thinking it too much for me to lose time to wait my Lord's rising, I away to St. James's, and there to Sir W. Coventry (38), and wrote a letter to my Lord Arlington (48) giving him an account of what I have done, and so with Sir W. Coventry (38) into London, to the office. And all the way I observed him mightily to make mirth of the Duke of Albemarle (57) and his people about him, saying, that he was the happiest man in the world for doing of great things by sorry instruments. And so particularized in Sir W. Clerke (43), and Riggs, and Halsey, and others. And then again said that the only quality eminent in him was, that he did persevere; and indeed he is a very drudge, and stands by the King's business. And this he said, that one thing he was good at, that he never would receive an excuse if the thing was not done; listening to no reasoning for it, be it good or bad. But then I told him, what he confessed, that he would however give the man, that he employs, orders for removing of any obstruction that he thinks he shall meet with in the world, and instanced in several warrants that he issued for breaking open of houses and other outrages about the business of prizes, which people bore with either for affection or fear, which he believes would not have been borne with from the King (36), nor Duke (32), nor any man else in England, and I thinke he is in the right, but it is not from their love of him, but from something else I cannot presently say. Sir W. Coventry (38) did further say concerning Warcupp, his kinsman, that had the simplicity to tell Sir W. Coventry (38), that the Duke (32) did intend to go to sea and to leave him his agent on shore for all things that related to the sea. But, says Sir W. Coventry (38), I did believe but the Duke of Yorke (32) would expect to be his agent on shore for all sea matters. And then he begun to say what a great man Warcupp was, and something else, and what was that but a great lyer; and told me a story, how at table he did, they speaking about antipathys, say, that a rose touching his skin any where, would make it rise and pimple; and, by and by, the dessert coming, with roses upon it, the Duchesse (29) bid him try, and they did; but they rubbed and rubbed, but nothing would do in the world, by which his lie was found at then.
He spoke contemptibly of Holmes and his mermidons, that come to take down the ships from hence, and have carried them without any necessaries, or any thing almost, that they will certainly be longer getting ready than if they had staid here.
In fine, I do observe, he hath no esteem nor kindnesse for the Duke's matters, but, contrarily, do slight him and them; and I pray God the Kingdom do not pay too dear by this jarring; though this blockheaded Duke I did never expect better from.
At the office all the morning, at noon home and thought to have slept, my head all day being full of business and yet sleepy and out of order, and so I lay down on my bed in my gowne to sleep, but I could not, therefore about three o'clock up and to dinner and thence to the office, where. Mrs. Burroughs, my pretty widow, was and so I did her business and sent her away by agreement, and presently I by coach after and took her up in Fenchurch Streete and away through the City, hiding my face as much as I could, but she being mighty pretty and well enough clad, I was not afeard, but only lest somebody should see me and think me idle.
I quite through with her, and so into the fields Uxbridge way, a mile or two beyond Tyburne, and then back and then to Paddington, and then back to Lyssen green, a place the coachman led me to (I never knew in my life) and there we eat and drank and so back to Chasing Crosse, and there I set her down. All the way most excellent pretty company. I had her lips as much as I would, and a mighty pretty woman she is and very modest and yet kinde in all fair ways. All this time I passed with mighty pleasure, it being what I have for a long time wished for, and did pay this day 5s. forfeite for her company.
She being gone, I to White Hall and there to Lord Arlington's (48), and met Mr. Williamson (32), and find there is no more need of my trouble about the Galliott, so with content departed, and went straight home, where at the office did the most at the office in that wearied and sleepy state I could, and so home to supper, and after supper falling to singing with Mercer did however sit up with her, she pleasing me with her singing of "Helpe, helpe", 'till past midnight and I not a whit drowsy, and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 06 August 1666. 06 Aug 1666. Up, and to the office a while, and then by water to my Baroness Montagu's (41), at Westminster, and there visited my Lord Hinchingbroke (18), newly come from Hinchingbroke, and find him a mighty sober gentleman, to my great content.
Thence to Sir Ph. Warwicke (56) and my Lord Treasurer's (59), but failed in my business; so home and in Fenchurch-streete met with Mr. Battersby; says he, "Do you see Dan Rawlinson's door shut up?" (which I did, and wondered). "Why", says he, "after all the sickness, and himself spending all the last year in the country, one of his men is now dead of the plague, and his wife and one of his mayds sicke, and himself shut up"; which troubles me mightily.
So home; and there do hear also from Mrs. Sarah Daniel, that Greenwich is at this time much worse than ever it was, and Deptford too: and she told us that they believed all the towne would leave the towne and come to London; which is now the receptacle of all the people from all infected places. God preserve us!
So by and by to dinner, and, after dinner in comes Mrs. Knipp, and I being at the office went home to her, and there I sat and talked with her, it being the first time of her being here since her being brought to bed. I very pleasant with her; but perceive my wife hath no great pleasure in her being here, she not being pleased with my kindnesse to her. However, we talked and sang, and were very pleasant.
By and by comes Mr. Pierce and his wife, the first time she also hath been here since her lying-in, both having been brought to bed of boys, and both of them dead. And here we talked, and were pleasant, only my wife in a chagrin humour, she not being pleased with my kindnesse to either of them, and by and by she fell into some silly discourse wherein I checked her, which made her mighty pettish, and discoursed mighty offensively to Mrs. Pierce, which did displease me, but I would make no words, but put the discourse by as much as I could (it being about a report that my wife said was made of herself and meant by Mrs. Pierce, that she was grown a gallant, when she had but so few suits of clothes these two or three years, and a great deale of that silly discourse), and by and by Mrs. Pierce did tell her that such discourses should not trouble her, for there went as bad on other people, and particularly of herself at this end of the towne, meaning my wife, that she was crooked, which was quite false, which my wife had the wit not to acknowledge herself to be the speaker of, though she has said it twenty times. But by this means we had little pleasure in their visit; however, Knipp and I sang, and then I offered them to carry them home, and to take my wife with me, but she would not go: so I with them, leaving my wife in a very ill humour, and very slighting to them, which vexed me. However, I would not be removed from my civility to them, but sent for a coach, and went with them; and, in our way, Knipp saying that she come out of doors without a dinner to us, I took them to Old Fish Streete, to the very house and woman where I kept my wedding dinner, where I never was since, and there I did give them a joie of salmon, and what else was to be had. And here we talked of the ill-humour of my wife, which I did excuse as much as I could, and they seemed to admit of it, but did both confess they wondered at it; but from thence to other discourse, and among others to that of my Lord Bruncker (46) and Mrs. Williams, who it seems do speake mighty hardly of me for my not treating them, and not giving her something to her closett, and do speake worse of my wife, and dishonourably, but it is what she do of all the world, though she be a whore herself; so I value it not. But they told me how poorly my Lord carried himself the other day to his kinswoman, Mrs. Howard, and was displeased because she called him uncle to a little gentlewoman that is there with him, which he will not admit of; for no relation is to be challenged from others to a lord, and did treat her thereupon very rudely and ungenteely.
Knipp tells me also that my Lord keeps another woman besides Mrs. Williams; and that, when I was there the other day, there was a great hubbub in the house, Mrs. Williams being fallen sicke, because my Lord was gone to his other mistresse, making her wait for him, till his return from the other mistresse; and a great deale of do there was about it; and Mrs. Williams swounded at it, at the very time when I was there and wondered at the reason of my being received so negligently. I set them both at home, Knipp at her house, her husband being at the doore; and glad she was to be found to have staid out so long with me and Mrs. Pierce, and none else; and Mrs. Pierce at her house, and am mightily pleased with the discretion of her during the simplicity and offensiveness of my wife's discourse this afternoon. I perceive by the new face at Mrs. Pierce's door that our Mary is gone from her.
So I home, calling on W. Joyce in my coach, and staid and talked a little with him, who is the same silly prating fellow that ever he was, and so home, and there find my wife mightily out of order, and reproaching of Mrs. Pierce and Knipp as wenches, and I know not what. But I did give her no words to offend her, and quietly let all pass, and so to bed without any good looke or words to or from my wife.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 August 1666. 10 Aug 1666. Up and to my chamber; there did some business and then to my office, and towards noon by water to the Exchequer about my Tangier order, and thence back again and to the Exchange, where little newes but what is in the book, and, among other things, of a man sent up for by the King (36) and Council for saying that Sir W. Coventry (38) did give intelligence to the Dutch of all our matters here. I met with Colvill, and he and I did agree about his lending me £1000 upon a tally of £1000 for Tangier.
Thence to Sympson, the joyner, and I am mightily pleased with what I see of my presses for my books, which he is making for me.
So homeward, and hear in Fanchurch-streete, that now the mayde also is dead at Mr. Rawlinson's; so that there are three dead in all, the wife, a man-servant, and mayde-servant.
Home to dinner, where sister Balty (26) dined with us, and met a letter come to me from him. He is well at Harwich, going to the fleete.
After dinner to the office, and anon with my wife and sister abroad, left them in Paternoster Row, while Creed, who was with me at the office, and I to Westminster; and leaving him in the Strand, I to my Chancellor's (57), and did very little business, and so away home by water, with more and more pleasure, I every time reading over my Lord Bacon's "Faber Fortunae".
So home, and there did little business, and then walked an hour talking of sundry things in the garden, and find him a cunning knave, as I always observed him to be, and so home to supper, and to bed. Pleased that this day I find, if I please, I can have all my money in that I have out of my hands, but I am at a loss whether to take it in or no, and pleased also to hear of Mrs. Barbara Sheldon's good fortune, who is like to have Mr. Wood's son, the mast-maker, a very rich man, and to be married speedily, she being already mighty fine upon it.
John Evelyn's Diary 03 September 1666. 03 Sep 1666. I had public prayers at home. The fire continuing, after dinner, I took coach with my wife (31) and son, and went to the Bankside in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the waterside; all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames street, and upward toward Cheapside, down to the Three Cranes, were now consumed; and so returned, exceedingly astonished what would become of the rest.
The fire having continued all this night (if I may call that night which was light as day for ten miles round about, after a dreadful manner), when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season, I went on foot to the same place; and saw the whole south part of the city burning from Cheapside to the Thames, and all along Cornhill (for it likewise kindled back against the wind as well as forward), Tower street, Fenchurch Street, Gracious street, and so along to Baynard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paul's church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that, from the beginning, I know not by what despondency, or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it; so that there was nothing heard, or seen, but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, Exchange, hospitals. Monuments, and ornaments; leaping after a prodigious manner, from house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from the other. For the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the air, and prepared the materials to conceive the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and every thing. Here, we saw the Thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other side, the carts, etc., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewn with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seen since the foundation of it, nor can be outdone till the universal conflagration thereof. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light seen above forty miles round about for many nights. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame! The noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like a hideous storm; and the air all about so hot and inflamed, that at the last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand still, and let the flames burn on, which they did, for near two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds also of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon computation, near fifty miles in length. Thus, I left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly called to my mind that passage—"non enim hic habemus stabilem civitatem"; the ruins resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but is no more! Thus, I returned.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 September 1666. 04 Sep 1666. Up by break of day to get away the remainder of my things; which I did by a lighter at the Iron gate and my hands so few, that it was the afternoon before we could get them all away. Sir W. Pen (45) and I to Tower-streete, and there met the fire burning three or four doors beyond Mr. Hovell's, whose goods, poor man, his trayes, and dishes, shovells, &c., were flung all along Tower-street in the kennels, and people working therewith from one end to the other; the fire coming on in that narrow streete, on both sides, with infinite fury. Sir W. Batten (65) not knowing how to remove his wine, did dig a pit in the garden, and laid it in there; and I took the opportunity of laying all the papers of my office that I could not otherwise dispose of.
And in the evening Sir W. Pen (45) and I did dig another, and put our wine in it; and I my Parmazan cheese, as well as my wine and some other things. The Duke of Yorke (32) was at the office this day, at Sir W. Pen's (45); but I happened not to be within.
This afternoon, sitting melancholy with Sir W. Pen (45) in our garden, and thinking of the certain burning of this office, without extraordinary means, I did propose for the sending up of all our workmen from Woolwich and Deptford yards (none whereof yet appeared), and to write to Sir W. Coventry (38) to have the Duke of Yorke's (32) permission to pull down houses, rather than lose this office, which would, much hinder, the King's business. So Sir W. Pen (45) he went down this night, in order to the sending them up to-morrow morning; and I wrote to Sir W. Coventry (38) about the business, but received no answer. This night Mrs. Turner (43) (who, poor woman, was removing her goods all this day, good goods into the garden, and knows not how to dispose of them), and her husband supped with my wife and I at night, in the office; upon a shoulder of mutton from the cook's, without any napkin or any thing, in a sad manner, but were merry. Only now and then walking into the garden, and saw how horridly the sky looks, all on a fire in the night, was enough to put us out of our wits; and, indeed, it was extremely dreadful, for it looks just as if it was at us; and the whole heaven on fire. I after supper walked in the darke down to Tower-streete, and there saw it all on fire, at the Trinity House on that side, and the Dolphin Taverne on this side, which was very near us; and the fire with extraordinary vehemence.
Now begins the practice of blowing up of houses in Tower-streete, those next the Tower, which at first did frighten people more than anything, but it stopped the fire where it was done, it bringing down the1 houses to the ground in the same places they stood, and then it was easy to quench what little fire was in it, though it kindled nothing almost. W. Newer this day went to see how his mother did, and comes late home, telling us how he hath been forced to remove her to Islington, her house in Pye-corner being burned; so that the fire is got so far that way, and all the Old Bayly, and was running down to Fleete-streete; and Paul's is burned, and all Cheapside. I wrote to my father this night, but the post-house being burned, the letter could not go2. 5th. I lay down in the office again upon W. Hewer's (24), quilt, being mighty weary, and sore in my feet with going till I was hardly able to stand. About two in the morning my wife calls me up and tells me of new cRyes of fire, it being come to Barkeing Church, which is the bottom of our lane. I up, and finding it so, resolved presently to take her away, and did, and took my gold, which was about £2350, W. Newer, and Jane, down by Proundy's boat to Woolwich; but, Lord! what sad sight it was by moone-light to see, the whole City almost on fire, that you might see it plain at Woolwich, as if you were by it. There, when I come, I find the gates shut, but no guard kept at all, which troubled me, because of discourse now begun, that there is plot in it, and that the French had done it. I got the gates open, and to Mr. Shelden's, where I locked up my gold, and charged, my wife and W. Newer never to leave the room without one of them in it, night, or day. So back again, by the way seeing my goods well in the lighters at Deptford, and watched well by people.
Home; and whereas I expected to have seen our house on fire, it being now about seven o'clock, it was not. But to the fyre, and there find greater hopes than I expected; for my confidence of finding our Office on fire was such, that I durst not ask any body how it was with us, till I come and saw it not burned. But going to the fire, I find by the blowing up of houses, and the great helpe given by the workmen out of the King's yards, sent up by Sir W. Pen (45), there is a good stop given to it, as well as at Marke-lane end as ours; it having only burned the dyall of Barking Church, and part of the porch, and was there quenched. I up to the top of Barking steeple, and there saw the saddest sight of desolation that I ever saw; every where great fires, oyle-cellars, and brimstone, and other things burning. I became afeard to stay there long, and therefore down again as fast as I could, the fire being spread as far as I could see it; and to Sir W. Pen's (45), and there eat a piece of cold meat, having eaten nothing since Sunday, but the remains of Sunday's dinner.
Here I met with Mr. Young and Whistler; and having removed all my things, and received good hopes that the fire at our end; is stopped, they and I walked into the town, and find Fanchurch-streete, Gracious-streete; and Lumbard-streete all in dust. The Exchange a sad sight, nothing standing there, of all the statues or pillars, but Sir Thomas Gresham's picture in the corner.
Walked into Moorefields (our feet ready to burn, walking through the towne among the hot coles), and find that full of people, and poor wretches carrying their good there, and every body keeping his goods together by themselves (and a great blessing it is to them that it is fair weathe for them to keep abroad night and day); drank there, and paid two-pence for a plain penny loaf.
Thence homeward, having passed through Cheapside and Newgate Market, all burned, and seen Anthony_Joyce_1668's House in fire. And took up (which I keep by me) a piece of glasse of Mercers' Chappell in the streete, where much more was, so melted and buckled with the heat of the fire like parchment. I also did see a poor cat taken out of a hole in the chimney, joyning to the wall of the Exchange; with, the hair all burned off the body, and yet alive.
So home at night, and find there good hopes of saving our office; but great endeavours of watching all night, and having men ready; and so we lodged them in the office, and had drink and bread and cheese for them. And I lay down and slept a good night about midnight, though when I rose I heard that there had been a great alarme of French and Dutch being risen, which proved, nothing. But it is a strange thing to see how long this time did look since Sunday, having been always full of variety of actions, and little sleep, that it looked like a week or more, and I had forgot, almost the day of the week.
Note 1. A copy of this letter, preserved among the Pepys MSS. in the author's own handwriting, is subjoined: "SIR, The fire is now very neere us as well on Tower Streete as Fanchurch Street side, and we little hope of our escape but by this remedy, to ye want whereof we doe certainly owe ye loss of ye City namely, ye pulling down of houses, in ye way of ye fire. This way Sir W. Pen (45) and myself have so far concluded upon ye practising, that he is gone to Woolwich and Deptford to supply himself with men and necessarys in order to the doeing thereof, in case at his returne our condition be not bettered and that he meets with his R. Hs. approbation, which I had thus undertaken to learn of you. Pray please to let me have this night (at whatever hour it is) what his R. Hs. directions are in this particular; Sir J. Minnes (67) and Sir W. Batten (65) having left us, we cannot add, though we are well assured of their, as well as all ye neighbourhood's concurrence. "Yr. obedient servnt. "S. P. "Sir W. Coventry (38), "Septr. 4, 1666"..
Note 2. J. Hickes wrote to Williamson on September 3rd from the "Golden Lyon", Red Cross Street Posthouse. Sir Philip (Frowde) and his lady fled from the (letter) office at midnight for: safety; stayed himself till 1 am. till his wife and childrens' patience could stay, no longer, fearing lest they should be quite stopped up; the passage was so tedious they had much ado to get where they are. The Chester and Irish, mails have come-in; sends him his letters, knows not how to dispose of the business (Calendar of State Papers, 1666-67, p. 95).
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 April 1667. 20 Apr 1667. Up, with much pain in my eare and palate. To the office out of humour all the morning.
At noon dined, and with my wife to the King's house, but there found the bill torn down and no play acted, and so being in the humour to see one, went to the Duke of York's house, and there saw "The Witts" again, which likes me better than it did the other day, having much wit in it. Here met with Mr. Rolt, who tells me the reason of no play to-day at the King's house. That Lacy (52) had been committed to the porter's lodge for his acting his part in the late new play, and that being thence released he come to the King's house, there met with Ned Howard (42), the poet of the play, who congratulated his release; upon which Lacy (52) cursed him as that it was the fault of his nonsensical play that was the cause of his ill usage. Mr. Howard (42) did give him some reply; to which Lacy (52) [answered] him, that he was more a fool than a poet; upon which Howard (42) did give him a blow on the face with his glove; on which Lacy (52), having a cane in his hand, did give him a blow over the pate. Here Rolt and others that discoursed of it in the pit this afternoon did wonder that Howard (42) did not run him through, he being too mean a fellow to fight with. But Howard did not do any thing but complain to the King (36) of it; so the whole house is silenced, and the gentry seem to rejoice much at it, the house being become too insolent. Here were many fine ladies this afternoon at this house as I have at any time seen, and so after the play home and there wrote to my father, and then to walk in the garden with my wife, resolving by the grace of God to see no more plays till Whitsuntide, I having now seen a play every day this week till I have neglected my business, and that I am ashamed of, being found so much absent; the Duke of York (33) and Sir W. Coventry (39) having been out of town at Portsmouth did the more embolden me thereto.
So home, and having brought home with me from Fenchurch Street a hundred of sparrowgrass1, cost 18d. We had them and a little bit of salmon, which my wife had a mind to, cost 3s.
So to supper, and my pain being somewhat better in my throat, we to bed.
Note 1. A form once so commonly used for asparagus that it has found its way into dictionaries.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 May 1667. 08 May 1667. Up pretty betimes and out of doors, and in Fen Church street met Mr. Lovett going with a picture to me, but I could not stand to discourse or see it, but on to the next Hackney coach and so to Sir W. Coventry (39), where he and I alone a while discoursing of some businesses of the office, and then up to the Duke of York (33) to his chamber with my fellow brethren who are come, and so did our usual weekly business, which was but little to-day, and I was glad that the business of Carcasse was not mentioned because our report was not ready, but I am resolved it shall against the next coming to the Duke of York (33). Here was discourse about a way of paying our old creditors which did please me, there being hopes of getting them comprehended within the 11 months Tax, and this did give occasion for Sir G. Carteret's (57) and my going to Sir Robert Long (67) to discourse it, who do agree that now the King's Council do say that they may be included in the Act, which do make me very glad, not so much for the sake of the poor men as for the King (36), for it would have been a ruin to him and his service not to have had a way to have paid the debt. There parted with Sir G. Carteret (57) and into Westminster Hall, where I met with Sir H. Cholmly (34), and he and I to Sir Ph. Warwicke's (57) to speak a little about our Tangier business, but to little purpose, my Lord Treasurer (60) being so ill that no business can be done.
Thence with Sir H. Cholmly (34) to find out Creed from one lodging to another, which he hath changed so often that there is no finding him, but at last do come to his lodging that he is entering into this day, and do find his goods unlading at the door, by Scotland Yard, and there I set down Sir H. Cholmly (34), and I away to the 'Change, where spoke about several things, and then going home did meet Mr. Andrews (35) our neighbour, and did speak with him to enquire about the ground behind our house, of which I have a mind to buy enough to make a stable and coach-house; for I do see that my condition do require it, as well as that it is more charge to my purse to live as I do than to keep one, and therefore I am resolved before winter to have one, unless some extraordinary thing happens to hinder me. He promises me to look after it for me, and so I home to dinner, where I find my wife's flageolette master, and I am so pleased with her proceeding, though she hath lost time by not practising, that I am resolved for the encouragement of the man to learn myself a little for a month or so, for I do foresee if God send my wife and I to live, she will become very good company for me. He gone, comes Lovett with my little print of my dear Baroness Castlemayne (26) varnished, and the frame prettily done like gold, which pleases me well. He dined with me, but by his discourse I do still see that he is a man of good wit but most strange experience, and acquaintance with all manner of subtleties and tricks, that I do think him not fit for me to keep any acquaintance with him, lest he some time or other shew me a slippery trick.
After dinner, he gone, I to the office, where all the afternoon very busy, and so in the evening to Sir R. Viner's (36), thinking to finish my accounts there, but am prevented, and so back again home, and late at my office at business, and so home to supper and sing a little with my dear wife, and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 19 July 1667. 19 Jul 1667. Up and comes the flageolet master, and brings me two new great Ivory pipes which cost me 32s., and so to play, and he being done, and Balty's (27) wife taking her leave of me, she going back to Lee to-day, I to Westminster and there did receive £15,000 orders out of the Exchequer in part of a bigger sum upon the eleven months tax for Tangier, part of which I presently delivered to Sir H. Cholmly (34), who was there, and thence with Mr. Gawden to Auditor Woods and Beales to examine some precedents in his business of the Victualling on his behalf, and so home, and in my way by coach down Marke Lane, mightily pleased and smitten to see, as I thought, in passing, the pretty woman, the line-maker's wife that lived in Fenchurch Streete, and I had great mind to have gone back to have seen, but yet would correct my nature and would not.
So to dinner with my wife, and then to sing, and so to the office, where busy all the afternoon late, and to Sir W. Batten's (66) and to Sir R. Ford's (53), we all to consider about our great prize at Hull, being troubled at our being likely to be troubled with Prince Rupert (47), by reason of Hogg's consorting himself with two privateers of the D. Gawden's, and so we study how to ease or secure ourselves.
So to walk in the garden with my wife, and then to supper and to bed. One tells me that, by letter from Holland, the people there are made to believe that our condition in England is such as they may have whatever they will ask; and that so they are mighty high, and despise us, or a peace with us; and there is too much reason for them to do so. The Dutch fleete are in great squadrons everywhere still about Harwich, and were lately at Portsmouth; and the last letters say at Plymouth, and now gone to Dartmouth to destroy our Streights' fleete lately got in thither; but God knows whether they can do it any hurt, or no, but it was pretty news come the other day so fast, of the Dutch fleets being in so many places, that Sir W. Batten (66) at table cried, "By God", says he, "I think the Devil shits Dutchmen".
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 September 1667. 08 Sep 1667. Lord's Day. Up, and walked to St. James's; but there I find Sir W. Coventry (39) gone from his chamber, and Mr. Wren (38) not yet come thither. But I up to the Duke of York (33), and there, after being ready, my Lord Bruncker (47) and I had an audience, and thence with my Lord Bruncker (47) to White Hall, and he told me, in discourse, how that, though it is true that Sir W. Coventry (39) did long since propose to the Duke of York (33) the leaving his service, as being unable to fulfill it, as he should do, now he hath so much public business, and that the Duke of York (33) did bid him to say nothing of it, but that he would take time to please himself in another to come in his place; yet the Duke's doing it at this time, declaring that he hath found out another, and this one of the Chancellor's (58) servants, he cannot but think was done with some displeasure, and that it could not well be otherwise, that the Duke of York (33) should keep one in that place, that had so eminently opposed him in the defence of his father-in-law, nor could the Duchesse ever endure the sight of him, to be sure. But he thinks that the Duke of York (33) and he are parted upon clear terms of friendship.
He tells me he do believe that my Baroness Castlemayne (26) is compounding with the King (37) for a pension, and to leave the Court; but that her demands are mighty high: but he believes the King (37) is resolved, and so do every body else I speak with, to do all possible to please the Parliament; and he do declare that he will deliver every body up to them to give an account of their actions: and that last Friday, it seems, there was an Act of Council passed, to put out all Papists in office, and to keep out any from coming in.
I went to the King's Chapel to the closet, and there I hear Cresset sing a tenor part along with the Church musick very handsomely, but so loud that people did laugh at him, as a thing done for ostentation. Here I met Sir G. Downing (42), who would speak with me, and first to inquire what I paid for my kid's leather gloves I had on my hand, and shewed me others on his, as handsome, as good in all points, cost him but 12d. a pair, and mine me 2s. He told me he had been seven years finding out a man that could dress English sheepskin as it should be—and, indeed, it is now as good, in all respects, as kid, and he says will save £100,000 a-year, that goes out to France for kid's skins. Thus he labours very worthily to advance our own trade, but do it with mighty vanity and talking. But then he told me of our base condition, in the treaty with Holland and France, about our prisoners, that whereas before we did clear one another's prisoners, man for man, and we upon the publication of the peace did release all our's, 300 at Leith, and others in other places for nothing, the Dutch do keep theirs, and will not discharge them with[out] paying their debts according to the Treaty. That his instruments in Holland, writing to our Embassadors about this to Bredagh, they answer them that they do not know of any thing that they have done therein, but left it just as it was before. To which, when they answer, that by the treaty their Lordships had [not] bound our countrymen to pay their debts in prison, they answer they cannot help it, and we must get them off as cheap as we can. On this score, they demand £1100 for Sir G. Ascue (51), and £5000 for the one province of Zealand, for the prisoners that we have therein. He says that this is a piece of shame that never any nation committed, and that our very Lords here of the Council, when he related this matter to them, did not remember that they had agreed to this article; and swears that all their articles are alike, as the giving away Polleroon, and Surinam, and Nova Scotia, which hath a river 300 miles up the country, with copper mines more than Swedeland, and Newcastle coals, the only place in America that hath coals that we know of; and that Cromwell did value those places, and would for ever have made much of them; but we have given them away for nothing, besides a debt to the King of Denmarke (58). But, which is most of all, they have discharged those very particular demands of merchants of the Guinny company and others, which he, when he was there, had adjusted with the Dutch, and come to an agreement in writing, and they undertaken to satisfy, and that this was done in black and white under their hands; and yet we have forgiven all these, and not so much as sent to Sir G. Downing (42) to know what he had done, or to confer with him about any one point of the treaty, but signed to what they would have, and we here signed to whatever in grosse was brought over by Mr. Coventry (39). And [Sir G. Downing (42)] tells me, just in these words, "My Chancellor (58) had a mind to keep himself from being questioned by clapping up a peace upon any terms". When I answered that there was other privy-councillors to be advised with besides him, and that, therefore, this whole peace could not be laid to his charge, he answered that nobody durst say any thing at the council-table but himself, and that the King (37) was as much afeard of saying any thing there as the meanest privy-councillor; and says more, that at this day the King (37), in familiar talk, do call the Chancellor (58) "the insolent man", and says that he would not let him speak himself in Council: which is very high, and do shew that the Chancellor (58) is like to be in a bad state, unless he can defend himself better than people think. And yet Creed tells me that he do hear that my Lord Cornbury do say that his father do long for the coming of the Parliament, in order to his own vindication, more than any one of his enemies.
And here it comes into my head to set down what Mr. Rawlinson, whom I met in Fenchurch Street on Friday last, looking over his ruines there, told me, that he was told by one of my Chancellor's (58) gentlemen lately (————byname), that a grant coming to him to be sealed, wherein the King (37) hath given her [Baroness Castlemaine (26)], or somebody by her means, a place which he did not like well of, he did stop the grant; saying, that he thought this woman would sell everything shortly: which she hearing of, she sent to let him know that she had disposed of this place, and did not doubt, in a little time, to dispose of his. This Rawlinson do tell me my Chancellor's (58) own gentleman did tell him himself.
Thence, meeting Creed, I with him to the Parke, there to walk a little, and to the Queen's Chapel and there hear their musique, which I liked in itself pretty well as to the composition, but their voices are very harsh and rough that I thought it was some instruments they had that made them sound so.
So to White Hall, and saw the King (37) and Queen (28) at dinner; and observed (which I never did before), the formality, but it is but a formality, of putting a bit of bread wiped upon each dish into the mouth of every man that brings a dish; but it should be in the sauce. Here were some Russes come to see the King (37) at dinner: among others, the interpreter, a comely Englishman, in the Envoy's own clothes; which the Envoy, it seems, in vanity did send to show his fine clothes upon this man's back, which is one, it seems, of a comelier presence than himself: and yet it is said that none of their clothes are their own, but taken out of the King's own Wardrobe; and which they dare not bring back dirty or spotted, but clean, or are in danger of being beaten, as they say: insomuch that, Sir Charles Cotterell (52) says, when they are to have an audience they never venture to put on their clothes till he appears to come to fetch them; and, as soon as ever they come home, put them off again.
I to Sir G. Carteret's (57) to dinner; where Mr. Cofferer (63) Ashburnham; who told a good story of a prisoner's being condemned at Salisbury for a small matter. While he was on the bench with his father-in-law, judge Richardson, and while they were considering to transport him to save his life, the fellow flung a great stone at the judge, that missed him, but broke through the wainscoat. Upon this, he had his hand cut off, and was hanged presently! Here was a gentleman, one Sheres, one come lately from my Lord Sandwich (42), with an express; but, Lord! I was almost ashamed to see him, lest he should know that I have not yet wrote one letter to my Lord since his going. I had no discourse with him, but after dinner Sir G. Carteret (57) and I to talk about some business of his, and so I to Mrs. Martin, where was Mrs. Burroughs, and also fine Mrs. Noble, my partner in the christening of Martin's child, did come to see it, and there we sat and talked an hour, and then all broke up and I by coach home, and there find Mr. Pelling and Howe, and we to sing and good musique till late, and then to supper, and Howe lay at my house, and so after supper to bed with much content, only my mind a little troubled at my late breach of vowes, which however I will pay my forfeits, though the badness of my eyes, making me unfit to read or write long, is my excuse, and do put me upon other pleasures and employment which I should refrain from in observation of my vowes.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 February 1668. 05 Feb 1668. Up, and I to Captain Cocke's (51), where he and I did discourse of our business that we are to go about to the Commissioners of Accounts about our prizes, and having resolved to conceal nothing but to confess the truth, the truth being likely to do us most good, we parted, and I to White Hall, where missing of the Commissioners of the Treasury, I to the Commissioners of Accounts, where I was forced to stay two hours before I was called in, and when come in did take an oath to declare the truth to what they should ask me, which is a great power; I doubt more than the Act do, or as some say can, give them, to force a man to swear against himself; and so they fell to enquire about the business of prize-goods, wherein I did answer them as well as I could, answer them in everything the just truth, keeping myself to that. I do perceive at last, that, that they did lay most like a fault to me was, that I did buy goods upon my Lord Sandwich's (42) declaring that it was with the King's allowance, and my believing it, without seeing the King's allowance, which is a thing I will own, and doubt not to justify myself in. That that vexed me most was, their having some watermen by, to witness my saying that they were rogues that they had betrayed my goods, which was upon some discontent with one of the watermen that I employed at Greenwich, who I did think did discover the goods sent from Rochester to the Custom-House officer; but this can do me no great harm. They were inquisitive into the minutest particulars, and the evening great information; but I think that they can do me no hurt, at the worst, more than to make me refund, if it must be known, what profit I did make of my agreement with Captain Cocke (51); and yet, though this be all, I do find so poor a spirit within me, that it makes me almost out of my wits, and puts me to so much pain, that I cannot think of anything, nor do anything but vex and fret, and imagine myself undone, so that I am ashamed of myself to myself, and do fear what would become of me if any real affliction should come upon me. After they had done with me, they called in Captain Cocke (51), with whom they were shorter; and I do fear he may answer foolishly, for he did speak to me foolishly before he went in; but I hope to preserve myself, and let him shift for himself as well as he can. So I away, walked to my flageolet maker in the Strand, and there staid for Captain Cocke (51), who took me up and carried me home, and there coming home and finding dinner done, and Mr. Cooke, who come for my Lady Sandwich's (43) plate, which I must part with, and so endanger the losing of my money, which I lent upon my thoughts of securing myself by that plate. But it is no great sum—but £60: and if it must be lost, better that, than a greater sum. I away back again, to find a dinner anywhere else, and so I, first, to the Ship Tavern, thereby to get a sight of the pretty mistress of the house, with whom I am not yet acquainted at all, and I do always find her scolding, and do believe she is an ill-natured devil, that I have no great desire to speak to her. Here I drank, and away by coach to the Strand, there to find out Mr. Moore, and did find him at the Bell Inn, and there acquainted him with what passed between me and the Commissioners to-day about the prize goods, in order to the considering what to do about my Lord Sandwich (42), and did conclude to own the thing to them as done by the King's allowance, and since confirmed.
Thence to other discourse, among others, he mightily commends my Lord Hinchingbroke's (20) match and Lady (23), though he buys her £10,000 dear, by the jointure and settlement his father (42) makes her; and says that the Duke of York (34) and Duchess of York (30) did come to see them in bed together, on their wedding-night, and how my Lord had fifty pieces of gold taken out of his pocket that night, after he was in bed. He tells me that an Act of Comprehension is likely to pass this Parliament, for admitting of all persuasions in religion to the public observation of their particular worship, but in certain places, and the persons therein concerned to be listed of this, or that Church; which, it is thought, will do them more hurt than good, and make them not own, their persuasion. He tells me that there is a pardon passed to the Duke of Buckingham (40), my Lord of Shrewsbury (45), and the rest, for the late duell and murder1 which he thinks a worse fault than any ill use my late Chancellor (58) ever put the Great Seal to, and will be so thought by the Parliament, for them to be pardoned without bringing them to any trial: and that my Lord Privy-Seal (62) therefore would not have it pass his hand, but made it go by immediate warrant; or at least they knew that he would not pass it, and so did direct it to go by immediate warrant, that it might not come to him. He tells me what a character my Lord Sandwich (42) hath sent over of Mr. Godolphin (33), as the worthiest man, and such a friend to him as he may be trusted in any thing relating to him in the world; as one whom, he says, he hath infallible assurances that he will remaine his friend which is very high, but indeed they say the gentleman is a fine man.
Thence, after eating a lobster for my dinner, having eat nothing to-day, we broke up, here coming to us Mr. Townsend of the Wardrobe, who complains of the Commissioners of the Treasury as very severe against my Lord Sandwich (42), but not so much as they complain of him for a fool and a knave, and so I let him alone, and home, carrying Mr. Moore as far as Fenchurch Street, and I home, and there being vexed in my mind about my prize businesses I to my chamber, where my wife and I had much talk of W. Hewer (26), she telling me that he is mightily concerned for my not being pleased with him, and is herself mightily concerned, but I have much reason to blame him for his little assistance he gives me in my business, not being able to copy out a letter with sense or true spelling that makes me mad, and indeed he is in that regard of as little use to me as the boy, which troubles me, and I would have him know it,—and she will let him know it.
By and by to supper, and so to bed, and slept but ill all night, my mind running like a fool on my prize business, which according to my reason ought not to trouble me at all.
Note 1. The royal pardon was thus announced in the "Gazette" of February 24th, 1668: "This day his Majesty was pleased to declare at the Board, that whereas, in contemplation of the eminent services heretofore done to his Majesty by most of the persons who were engaged in the late duel, or rencounter, wherein William Jenkins was killed, he Both graciously pardon the said offence: nevertheless, He is resolved from henceforth that on no pretence whatsoever any pardon shall be hereafter granted to any person whatsoever for killing of any man, in any duel or rencounter, but that the course of law shall wholly take place in all such cases". The warrant for a pardon to George, Duke of Buckingham (40), is dated January 27th, 1668; and on the following day was issued, "Warrant for a grant to Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury (45), of pardon for killing William Jenkins, and for all duels, assaults, or batteries on George, Duke of Buckingham (40), Sir John Talbot, Sir Robert Holmes, or any other, whether indicted or not for the same, with restitution of lands, goods, &c". (Calendar of State Papers, 1667-68, pp. 192,193).
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 September 1668. 28 Sep 1668. Up betimes, and Knepp's maid comes to me, to tell me that the women's day at the playhouse is to-day, and that therefore I must be there, to encrease their profit. I did give the pretty maid Betty that comes to me half-a-crown for coming, and had a baiser or two-elle being mighty jolie. And so I about my business. By water to St. James's, and there had good opportunity of speaking with the Duke of York (34), who desires me again, talking on that matter, to prepare something for him to do for the better managing of our Office, telling me that, my Lord Keeper and he talking about it yesterday, my Lord Keeper did advise him to do so, it being better to come from him than otherwise, which I have promised to do.
Thence to my Lord Burlington's (55) houses the first time I ever was there, it being the house built by Sir John Denham (53), next to Clarendon House; and here I visited my Lord Hinchingbrooke (20) and his lady; Mr. Sidney Montagu (18) being come last night to town unexpectedly from Mount's Bay, where he left my Lord well, eight days since, so as we may now hourly expect to hear of his arrival at Portsmouth. Sidney (18) is mighty grown; and I am glad I am here to see him at his first coming, though it cost me dear, for here I come to be necessitated to supply them with £500 for my Lord. He sent him up with a declaration to his friends, of the necessity of his being presently supplied with £2000; but I do not think he will get one. However, I think it becomes my duty to my Lord to do something extraordinary in this, and the rather because I have been remiss in writing to him during this voyage, more than ever I did in my life, and more indeed than was fit for me.
By and by comes Sir W. GoDolphin to see Mr. Sidney, who, I perceive, is much dissatisfied that he should come to town last night, and not yet be with my Lord Arlington (50), who, and all the town, hear of his being come to town, and he did, it seems, take notice of it to GoDolphin this morning: so that I perceive this remissness in affairs do continue in my Lord's managements still, which I am sorry for; but, above all, to see in what a condition my Lord is for money, that I dare swear he do not know where to take up £500 of any man in England at this time, upon his word, but of myself, as I believe by the sequel hereof it will appear. Here I first saw and saluted my Lady Burlington (55), a very fine-speaking lady, and a good woman, but old, and not handsome; but a brave woman in her parts. Here my Lady Hinchingbroke tells me that she hath bought most of the wedding-clothes for Mrs. Pickering (26), so that the thing is gone through, and will soon be ended; which I wonder at, but let them do as they will. Here I also, standing by a candle that was brought for sealing of a letter, do set my periwigg a-fire, which made such an odd noise, nobody could tell what it was till they saw the flame, my back being to the candle.
Thence to Westminster Hall and there walked a little, and to the Exchequer, and so home by water, and after eating a bit I to my vintner's, and there did only look upon su wife, which is mighty handsome; and so to my glove and ribbon shop, in Fenchurch Street, and did the like there. And there, stopping against the door of the shop, saw Mrs. Horsfall, now a late widow, in a coach. I to her, and shook her by the hand, and so she away; and I by coach towards the King's playhouse, and meeting W. Howe took him with me, and there saw "The City Match"; not acted these thirty years, and but a silly play: the King (38) and Court there; the house, for the women's sake, mighty full. So I to White Hall, and there all the evening on the Queen's (29) side; and it being a most summerlike day, and a fine warm evening, the Italians come in a barge under the leads, before the Queen's (29) drawing-room; and so the Queen (29) and ladies went out, and heard them, for almost an hour: and it was indeed very good together; but yet there was but one voice that alone did appear considerable, and that was Seignor Joanni. This done, by and by they went in; and here I saw Mr. Sidney Montagu kiss the Queen's (29) hand, who was mighty kind to him, and the ladies looked mightily on him; and the King (38) come by and by, and did talk to him. So I away by coach with Alderman Backewell (50) home, who is mighty kind to me, more than ordinary, in his expressions. But I do hear this day what troubles me, that Sir W. Coventry (40) is quite out of play, the King (38) seldom speaking to him; and that there is a design of making a Lord Treasurer, and that my Lord Arlington (50) shall be the man; but I cannot believe it. But yet the Duke of Buckingham (40) hath it in his mind, and those with him, to make a thorough alteration in things; and, among the rest, Coventry (40) to be out. The Duke of York (34) did this day tell me how hot the whole party was in the business of GaudenGawden; and particularly, my Lord Anglesey (54) tells me, the Duke of Buckingham (40), for Child against Gawden; but the Duke of York (34) did stand stoutly to it.
So home to read and sup, and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 February 1669. 28 Feb 1669. Lord's Day. Up, and got my wife to read to me a copy of what the Surveyor offered to the Duke of York (35) on Friday, he himself putting it into my hands to read; but, Lord! it is a poor, silly thing ever to think to bring it in practice, in the King's Navy. It is to have the Captains to account for all stores and victuals; but upon so silly grounds, to my thinking; and ignorance of the present instructions of Officers, that I am ashamed to hear it. However, I do take a copy of it, for my future use and answering; and so to church, where, God forgive me! I did most of the time gaze on the fine milliner's wife, in Fenchurch Street, who was at our church to-day; and so home to dinner. And after dinner to write down my Journall; and then abroad by coach with my cozens, to their father's, where we are kindly received, but he is an great pain for his man Arthur, who, he fears, is now dead, having been desperately sick, and speaks so much of him that my cozen, his wife, and I did make mirth of it, and call him Arthur O'Bradly. After staying here a little, and eat and drank, and she gave me some ginger-bread made in cakes, like chocolate, very good, made by a friend, I carried him and her to my cozen Turner's, where we staid, expecting her coming from church; but she coming not, I went to her husband's chamber in the Temple, and thence fetched her, she having been there alone ever since sermon staying till the evening to walk home on foot, her horses being ill. This I did, and brought her home. And after talking there awhile, and agreeing to be all merry at my house on Tuesday next, I away home; and there spent the evening talking and reading, with my wife and Mr. Pelling, and yet much troubled with my cold, it hardly suffering me to speak, we to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 13 April 1669. 13 Apr 1669. Up, and at the Office a good while, and then, my wife going down the River to spend the day with her mother at Deptford, I abroad, and first to the milliner's in Fenchurch Street, over against Rawlinson's, and there, meeting both him and her in the shop, I bought a pair of gloves, and fell to talk, and found so much freedom that I stayed there the best part of the morning till towards noon, with great pleasure, it being a holiday, and then against my will away and to the 'Change, where I left W. Hewer (27), and I by Hackney-coach to the Spittle, and heard a piece of a dull sermon to my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, and thence saw them all take horse and ride away, which I have not seen together many a-day; their wives also went in their coaches; and, indeed, the sight was mighty pleasing.
Thence took occasion to go back to this milliner's [in Fenchurch Street], whose name I now understand to be Clerke; and there, her husband inviting me up to the balcony, to see the sight go by to dine at Clothworker's-Hall, I did go up and there saw it go by: and then; there being a good piece of cold roast beef upon the tables and one Margetts, a young merchant that lodges there, and is likely to marry a sister of hers, I staid and eat, and had much good conversation with her, who hath the vanity to talk of her great friends and father, one Wingate, near Welling;, that hath been a Parliament-man. Here also was Stapely: the rope-merchant, and dined with us; and, after spending most of the afternoon also, I away home, and there sent for W. Hewer (27), and he and I by water to White Hall to loop among other things, for Mr. May, to unbespeak his dining with me to-morrow. But here being in the court-yard, God would have it, I spied Deb., which made my heart and head to work, and I presently could not refrain, but sent W. Hewer (27) away to look for Mr. Wren (40) (W. Hewer (27), I perceive, did see her, but whether he did see me see her I know not, or suspect my sending him away I know not, but my heart could not hinder me), and I run after her and two women and a man, more ordinary people, and she in her old clothes, and after hunting a little, find them in the lobby of the chapel below stairs, and there I observed she endeavoured to avoid me, but I did speak to her and she to me, and did get her pour dire me ou she demeurs now, and did charge her para say nothing of me that I had vu elle, which she did promise, and so with my heart full of surprize and disorder I away, and meeting with Sir H. Cholmley walked into the Park with him and back again, looking to see if I could spy her again in the Park, but I could not. And so back to White Hall, and then back to the Park with Mr. May, but could see her, no more, and so with W. Hewer (27), who I doubt by my countenance might see some disorder in me, we home by water, and there I find Talbot Pepys, and Mrs. Turner (46), and Betty, come to invite us to dinner on Thursday; and, after drinking, I saw them to the water-side, and so back home through Crutched Friars, and there saw Mary Mercer, and put off my hat to her, on the other side of the way, but it being a little darkish she did not, I think, know me well, and so to my office to put my papers in order, they having been removed for my closet to be made clean, and so home to my wife, who is come home from Deptford. But, God forgive me, I hardly know how to put on confidence enough to speak as innocent, having had this passage to-day with Deb., though only, God knows, by accident. But my great pain is lest God Almighty shall suffer me to find out this girl, whom indeed I love, and with a bad amour, but I will pray to God to give me grace to forbear it.
So home to supper, where very sparing in my discourse, not giving occasion of any enquiry where I have been to-day, or what I have done, and so without any trouble to-night more than my fear, we to bed.
Billiter Lane, Fenchurch Street, City of London
Ship Tavern, Billiter Lane, Fenchurch Street, City of London
Diary of Samuel Pepys 02 December 1663. 02 Dec 1663. My wife troubled all last night with the toothache and this morning. I up and to my office, where busy, and so home to dinner with my wife, who is better of her tooth than she was, and in the afternoon by agreement called on by Mr. Bland, and with him to the Ship a neighbour tavern and there met his antagonist Mr. Custos and his referee Mr. Clarke a merchant also, and begun the dispute about the freight of a ship hired by Mr. Bland to carry provisions to Tangier, and the freight is now demanded, whereas he says that the goods were some spoiled, some not delivered, and upon the whole demands £1300 of the other, and their minds are both so high, their demands so distant, and their words so many and hot against one another that I fear we shall bring it to nothing. But however I am glad to see myself so capable of understanding the business as I find I do, and shall endeavour to do Mr. Bland all the just service I can therein. Here we were in a bad room, which vexed me most, but we meet at another house next.
So at noon I home and to my office till 9 o'clock, and so home to my wife to keep her company, arithmetique, then to supper, and to bed, she being well of her tooth again.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 April 1667. 08 Apr 1667. Up, and having dressed myself, to the office a little, and out, expecting to have seen the pretty daughter of the Ship taverne at the hither end of Billiter Lane (whom I never yet have opportunity to speak to). I in there to drink my morning draught of half a pint of Rhenish wine; but a ma doleur elle and their family are going away thence, and a new man come to the house. So I away to the Temple, to my new. bookseller's; and there I did agree for Rycaut's late History of the Turkish Policy, which costs me 55s.; whereas it was sold plain before the late fire for 8s., and bound and coloured as this is for 20s.; for I have bought it finely bound and truly coloured, all the figures, of which there was but six books done so, whereof the King (36) and Duke of York (33), and Duke of Monmouth (17), and Lord Arlington, had four. The fifth was sold, and I have bought the sixth.
So to enquire out Mrs. Knipp's new lodging, but could not, but do hear of her at the Playhouse, where she was practising, and I sent for her out by a porter, and the jade come to me all undressed, so cannot go home to my house to dinner, as I had invited her, which I was not much troubled at, because I think there is a distance between her and Mrs. Pierce, and so our company would not be so pleasant.
So home, and there find all things in good readiness for a good dinner, and here unexpectedly I find little Mis. Tooker, whom my wife loves not from the report of her being already naught; however, I do shew her countenance, and by and by come my guests, Dr. Clerke and his wife, and Mrs. Worshipp, and her daughter; and then Mr. Pierce and his wife, and boy, and Betty; and then I sent for Mercer; so that we had, with my wife and I, twelve at table, and very good and pleasant company, and a most neat and excellent, but dear dinner; but, Lord! to see with what envy they looked upon all my fine plate was pleasant; for I made the best shew I could, to let them understand me and my condition, to take down the pride of Mrs. Clerke, who thinks herself very great. We sat long, and very merry, and all things agreeable; and, after dinner, went out by coaches, thinking to have seen a play, but come too late to both houses, and then they had thoughts of going abroad somewhere; but I thought all the charge ought not to be mine, and therefore I endeavoured to part the company, and so ordered it to set them all down at Mrs. Pierce's; and there my wife and I and Mercer left them in good humour, and we three to the King's house, and saw the latter end of the "Surprisall", a wherein was no great matter, I thought, by what I saw there.
Thence away to Polichinello, and there had three times more sport than at the play, and so home, and there the first night we have been this year in the garden late, we three and our Barker singing very well, and then home to supper, and so broke up, and to bed mightily pleased with this day's pleasure.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 July 1667. 20 Jul 1667. Up and to the office, where all the morning, and then towards the 'Change, at noon, in my way observing my mistake yesterday in Mark Lane, that the woman I saw was not the pretty woman I meant, the line-maker's wife, but a new-married woman, very pretty, a strong-water seller: and in going by, to my content, I find that the very pretty daughter at the Ship tavern, at the end of Billiter Lane, is there still, and in the bar: and, I believe, is married to him that is new come, and hath new trimmed the house.
Home to dinner, and then to the office, we having dispatched away Mr. Oviatt to Hull, about our prizes there; and I have wrote a letter of thanks by him to Lord Bellasses (53), who had writ to me to offer all his service for my interest there, but I dare not trust him.
In the evening late walking in the garden with my wife, and then to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 September 1667. 20 Sep 1667. At the office doing business all the morning. At noon expected Creed to have come to dine with me and brought Mr. Sheres (the gentleman lately come from my Lord Sandwich (42)) with him; but they come not, so there was a good dinner lost.
After dinner my wife and Jane about some business of hers abroad, and then I to the office, where, having done my business, I out to pay some debts: among others to the taverne at the end of Billiter Lane, where my design was to see the pretty mistress of the house, which I did, and indeed is, as I always thought, one of the modestest, prettiest, plain women that ever I saw.
Thence was met in the street by Sir W. Pen (46), and he and I by coach to the King's playhouse, and there saw "The Mad Couple", which I do not remember that I have seen; it is a pretty pleasant play.
Thence home, and my wife and I to walk in the garden, she having been at the same play with Jane, in the 18d. seat, to shew Jane the play, and so home to supper and to bed.
Philpott Lane, Fenchurch Street, City of London
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 August 1666. 28 Aug 1666. Up, and in my new closet a good while doing business. Then called on Mrs. Martin and Burroughs of Westminster about business of the former's husband. Which done, I to the office, where we sat all the morning.
At noon I, with my wife and Mercer, to Philpott Lane, a great cook's shop, to the wedding of Mr. Longracke, our purveyor, a good, sober, civil man, and hath married a sober, serious mayde. Here I met much ordinary company, I going thither at his great request; but there was Mr. Madden and his lady, a fine, noble, pretty lady, and he, and a fine gentleman seems to be. We four were most together; but the whole company was very simple and innocent. A good-dinner, and, what was best, good musique.
After dinner the young women went to dance; among others Mr. Christopher Pett (46) his daughter, who is a very pretty, modest girle, I am mightily taken with her; and that being done about five o'clock, home, very well pleased with the afternoon's work. And so we broke up mightily civilly, the bride and bridegroom going to Greenwich (they keeping their dinner here only for my sake) to lie, and we home, where I to the office, and anon am on a sudden called to meet Sir W. Pen (45) and Sir W. Coventry (38) at the Victualling Office, which did put me out of order to be so surprised. But I went, and there Sir William Coventry did read me a letter from the Generalls to the King (36)1, a most scurvy letter, reflecting most upon Sir W. Coventry (38), and then upon me for my accounts (not that they are not true, but that we do not consider the expence of the fleete), and then of the whole office, in neglecting them and the King's service, and this in very plain and sharp and menacing terms. I did give a good account of matters according to our computation of the expence of the fleete. I find Sir W. Coventry (38) willing enough to accept of any thing to confront the Generalls. But a great supply must be made, and shall be in grace of God! But, however, our accounts here will be found the true ones. Having done here, and much work set me, I with greater content home than I thought I should have done, and so to the office a while, and then home, and a while in my new closet, which delights me every day more and more, and so late to bed.
Note 1. The letter from Prince Rupert (46) and the Duke of Albemarle (57) to the King (36) (dated August 27th, from the "Royal Charles", Sole Bay) is among the State Papers. The generals complain of the want of supplies, in spite of repeated importunities. The demands are answered by accounts from Mr. Pepys of what has been sent to the fleet, which will not satisfy the ships, unless the provisions could be found "... Have not a month's provision of beer, yet Sir Wm. Coventry assures the ministers that they are supplied till Oct. 3; unless this is quickened they will have to return home too soon.... Want provisions according to their own computation, not Sir Wm. Coventry's, to last to the end of October" ("Calendar", 1666-67, p. 71).
St Katherine Coleman Church, Fenchurch Street, City of London
Diary of Henry Machyn March 1553. 24 Feb 1553. The xxiiij day of February was bered in saynt Katheryns Colman master Hare [Harry] Webe sqwyre, and porter of the Towre, with a harold, and ys penon of armes, and ys cot armur, and with iiij dossen of skochyons.
St Gabriel's Church, Fenchurch Street, City of London
Diary of Samuel Pepys 09 April 1665. 09 Apr 1665. Lord's Day. To church with my wife in the morning, in her new light-coloured silk gowne, which is, with her new point, very noble.
Dined at home, and in the afternoon to Fanchurch, the little church in the middle of Fanchurch Streete, where a very few people and few of any rank.
Thence, after sermon, home, and in the evening walking in the garden, my Lady Pen (41) and her daughter walked with my wife and I, and so to my house to eat with us, and very merry, and so broke up and to bed.