Gracechurch Street is in City of London.
Diary of Henry Machyn December 1556. 31 Dec 1556. The xxxj day of Desember was maltt sold in Gracyous strett markett for xliiijs. a quarter, melle [meal] sold for vj s. a bussell; of whett melle after at xlvj s. a quarter.
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 January 1559. 14 Jan 1559. [The xiv day of January the Queen (25) came in a chariot from] the Towre, with all the lordes and ladies [in crimson] velvet, and and ther horses trapyd with the sam, and [trumpeters in] red gownes blohyng, and all the haroldes in ther cottes armur, and all the strettes stroyd with gravell; and at Grasyus strett a goodly pagantt of kyng [Henry] the viij (67) and quen Ane (58) ys wyff and of ther lenege, and in Cornelle a-nodur goodly pagantt of kyng Henry (67) and kyng Edward the vjth (21); and be-syd Soper lane in [Cheap a]nodur goodly pagantt, and the condyth pentyd; [and] at the lytylle condutt a-nodur goodly pagant of a qwyke tre and a ded, and the quen had a boke gyffyn her ther; and ther the recorder of London and the chamburlayn (38) delevered unto the quen a purse of gold fulle to the waluw of (blank); and so to the Flett strett to the condyt, and ther was a-nodur goodly pagantt of the ij chyrchys; and at Tempylle bare was ij grett gyanttes, the one name was Goott-magott [Gogmagog] a Albaon and the thodur Co(rineus.)
Diary of Henry Machyn October 1559. 05 Oct 1559. [The] v day of October cam to [London by Ald]gatt the prynse of Sweythen (25), and [so to Leadenhall], and done [down] Gracyous-strett corner in a howse stod [the lord] marques of Northamtun (47) and my lord Ambros Dudley (29) [and other gentlemen and] lades; and my lord of Oxford (43) browth (him) from Col[chester] and my lord Robart Dudley (27), the master of the quen('s) horse; and trumpettes bloyng in dyvers places; and thay had [a great] nombur of gentyllmen ryd with cheynes a-for them, and after them a ij C  of yomen rydyng, and so rydyng over the bryge unto the bysshope of Wynchastur plasse, for [it] was rychely hangyd with ryche cloth of arres, wrought with gold and sylver and sylke, and ther he remanyth.
Diary of Henry Machyn June 1560. 12 Jun 1560. The xij day of June dyd ryd in (a) care a-bowtt London ij men and iij women; one man was for he was the bowd, and to brynge women unto strangers, and on woman was the wyff of the Bell in Gracyous-strett, and a-nodur the wyff of the Bull-hed be-syd London stone, and boyth wher bawdes and hores, and the thodur man and the woman wher brodur and syster, and wher taken nakyd together.
On 08 Feb 1601 Thomas Smythe 1558-1625 (43) was visited by Robert Devereux 2nd Earl Essex 1565-1601 (35) at his house Gracechurch Street. Smythe was later accused of complicity in the Essex Rebellion, he was examined before the Privy Council. He was fired from his office of Sheriff of and committed to the Tower of London.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 June 1663. 01 Jun 1663. So, well pleased for once with this sight, I walked home, doing several businesses by the way. In my way calling to see Commissioner Pett (52), who lies sick at his daughter, a pretty woman, in Gracious Street, but is likely to be abroad again in a day or two. At home I found my wife in bed all this day .... I went to see Sir Wm. Pen (42), who has a little pain of his gout again, but will do well.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 September 1665. 03 Sep 1665. Lord's Day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit very fine, and my new periwigg, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done, as to periwiggs, for nobody will dare to buy any haire, for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off of the heads of people dead of the plague. Before church time comes Mr. Hill (35) (Mr. Andrews (33) failing because he was to receive the Sacrament), and to church, where a sorry dull parson, and so home and most excellent company with Mr. Hill (35) and discourse of musique. I took my Lady Pen (41) home, and her daughter Pegg, and merry we were; and after dinner I made my wife show them her pictures, which did mad Pegg Pen, who learns of the same man and cannot do so well.
After dinner left them and I by water to Greenwich, where much ado to be suffered to come into the towne because of the sicknesse, for fear I should come from London, till I told them who I was. So up to the church, where at the door I find Captain Cocke (48) in my Lord Bruncker's (45) coach, and he come out and walked with me in the church-yarde till the church was done, talking of the ill government of our Kingdom, nobody setting to heart the business of the Kingdom, but every body minding their particular profit or pleasures, the King (35) himself minding nothing but his ease, and so we let things go to wracke. This arose upon considering what we shall do for money when the fleete comes in, and more if the fleete should not meet with the Dutch, which will put a disgrace upon the King's actions, so as the Parliament and Kingdom will have the less mind to give more money, besides so bad an account of the last money, we fear, will be given, not half of it being spent, as it ought to be, upon the Navy. Besides, it is said that at this day our Lord Treasurer (58) cannot tell what the profit of Chimney money is, what it comes to per annum, nor looks whether that or any other part of the revenue be duly gathered as it ought; the very money that should pay the City the £200,000 they lent the King (35), being all gathered and in the hands of the Receiver and hath been long and yet not brought up to pay the City, whereas we are coming to borrow 4 or £500,000 more of the City, which will never be lent as is to be feared.
Church being done, my Lord Bruncker (45), Sir J. Minnes (66), and I up to the Vestry at the desire of the justices of the Peace, Sir Theo. Biddulph (53) and Sir W. Boreman (53) and Alderman Hooker (53), in order to the doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing; but Lord! to consider the madness of the people of the town, who will (because they are forbid) come in crowds along with the dead corps to see them buried; but we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof.
Among other stories, one was very passionate, methought, of a complaint brought against a man in the towne for taking a child from London from an infected house. Alderman Hooker (53) told us it was the child of a very able citizen in Gracious_Street, a saddler, who had buried all the rest of his children of the plague, and himself and wife now being shut up and in despair of escaping, did desire only to save the life of this little child; and so prevailed to have it received stark-naked into the arms of a friend, who brought it (having put it into new fresh clothes) to Greenwich; where upon hearing the story, we did agree it should be permitted to be received and kept in the towne.
Thence with my Lord Bruncker (45) to Captain Cocke's (48), where we mighty merry and supped, and very late I by water to Woolwich, in great apprehensions of an ague. Here was my Lord Bruncker's (45) lady of pleasure, who, I perceive, goes every where with him; and he, I find, is obliged to carry her, and make all the courtship to her that can be.
Note 1. TT. Assumed to be Abigail Clere aka Williams Actor who William Brouncker 2nd Viscount Brounckner 1620-1684 (45) lived with for many years.
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 24 November 1665. 24 Nov 1665. Up, and after doing some business at the office, I to London, and there, in my way, at my old oyster shop in Gracious Streete, bought two barrels of my fine woman of the shop, who is alive after all the plague, which now is the first observation or inquiry we make at London concerning everybody we knew before it.
So to the 'Change, where very busy with several people, and mightily glad to see the 'Change so full, and hopes of another abatement still the next week. Off the 'Change I went home with Sir G. Smith (50) to dinner, sending for one of my barrels of oysters, which were good, though come from Colchester, where the plague hath been so much. Here a very brave dinner, though no invitation; and, Lord! to see how I am treated, that come from so mean a beginning, is matter of wonder to me. But it is God's great mercy to me, and His blessing upon my taking pains, and being punctual in my dealings.
After dinner Captain Cocke (48) and I about some business, and then with my other barrel of oysters home to Greenwich, sent them by water to Mrs. Penington, while he and I landed, and visited Mr. Evelyn (45), where most excellent discourse with him; among other things he showed me a ledger of a Treasurer of the Navy, his great grandfather, just 100 years old; which I seemed mighty fond of, and he did present me with it, which I take as a great rarity; and he hopes to find me more, older than it. He also shewed us several letters of the old Lord of Leicester's, in Queen Elizabeth's time, under the very hand-writing of Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Mary, Queen of Scotts; and others, very venerable names.
But, Lord! how poorly, methinks, they wrote in those days, and in what plain uncut paper.
Thence, Cocke (48) having sent for his coach, we to Mrs. Penington, and there sat and talked and eat our oysters with great pleasure, and so home to my lodging late and to bed.
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 21 October 1667. 21 Oct 1667. Up, and betimes got a coach at the Exchange, and thence to St. James's, where I had forgot that the Duke of York (34) and family were gone to White Hall, and thence to Westminster Hall and there walked a little, finding the Parliament likely to be busy all this morning about the business of Mr. Bruncker (40) for advising Cox and Harman (42) to shorten sail when they were in pursuit of the Dutch after the first great victory. I went away to Mr. Creed's chamber, there to meet Sir H. Cholmly (35), about business of Mr. Yeabsly, where I was delivered of a great fear that they would question some of the orders for payment of money which I had got them signed at the time of the plague, when I was here alone, but all did pass.
Thence to Westminster again, and up to the lobby, where many commanders of the fleete were, and Captain Cox, and Mr. Pierce, the Surgeon; the last of whom hath been in the House, and declared that he heard Bruncker (40) advise; and give arguments to, Cox, for the safety of the Duke of York's (34) person, to shorten sail, that they might not be in the middle of the enemy in the morning alone; and Cox denying to observe his advice, having received the Duke of York's (34) commands over night to keep within cannon-shot (as they then were) of the enemy, Bruncker did go to Harman (42), and used the same arguments, and told him that he was sure it would be well pleasing to the King (37) that care should be taken of not endangering the Duke of York (34); and, after much persuasion, Harman (42) was heard to say, "Why, if it must be, then lower the topsail". And so did shorten sail, to the loss, as the Parliament will have it, of the greatest victory that ever was, and which would have saved all the expence of blood, and money, and honour, that followed; and this they do resent, so as to put it to the question, whether Bruncker should not be carried to the Tower: who do confess that, out of kindness to the Duke of York's (34) safety, he did advise that they should do so, but did not use the Duke of York's (34) name therein; and so it was only his error in advising it, but the greatest theirs in taking it, contrary to order.
At last, it ended that it should be suspended till Harman (42) comes home; and then the Parliament-men do all tell me that it will fall heavy, and, they think, be fatal to Bruncker or him. Sir W. Pen (46) tells me he was gone to bed, having been all day labouring, and then not able to stand, of the goute, and did give order for the keeping the sails standing, as they then were, all night. But, which I wonder at, he tells me that he did not know the next day that they had shortened sail, nor ever did enquire into it till about ten days ago, that this begun to be mentioned; and, indeed, it is charged privately as a fault on the Duke of York (34), that he did not presently examine the reason of the breach of his orders, and punish it. But Cox tells me that he did finally refuse it; and what prevailed with Harman (42) he knows not, and do think that we might have done considerable service on the enemy the next day, if this had not been done.
Thus this business ended to-day, having kept them till almost two o'clock; and then I by coach with Sir W. Pen (46) as far as St. Clement's, talking of this matter, and there set down; and I walked to Sir G. Carteret's (57), and there dined with him and several Parliament-men, who, I perceive, do all look upon it as a thing certain that the Parliament will enquire into every thing, and will be very severe where they can find any fault. Sir W. Coventry (39), I hear, did this day make a speech, in apology for his reading the letter of the Duke of Albemarle (58), concerning the good condition which Chatham was in before the enemy come thither: declaring his simple intention therein, without prejudice to my Lord. And I am told that he was also with the Duke of Albemarle (58) yesterday to excuse it; but this day I do hear, by some of Sir W. Coventry's (39) friends, that they think he hath done himself much injury by making this man, and his interest, so much his enemy.
After dinner, I away to Westminster, and up to the Parliament-house, and there did wait with great patience, till seven at night, to be called in to the Committee, who sat all this afternoon, examining the business of Chatham; and at last was called in, and told, that the least they expected from us Mr. Wren (38) had promised them, and only bade me to bring all my fellow-officers thitherto attend them tomorrow, afternoon. Sir Robert Brookes (30) in the chair: methinks a sorry fellow to be there, because a young man; and yet he seems to speak very well. I gone thence, my cozen Pepys comes out to me, and walks in the Hall with me, and bids me prepare to answer to every thing; for they do seem to lodge the business of Chatham upon the Commissioners of the Navy, and they are resolved to lay the fault heavy somewhere, and to punish it: and prays me to prepare to save myself, and gives me hints what to prepare against; which I am obliged to him for, and do begin to mistrust lest some unhappy slip or other after all my diligence and pains may not be found (which I can [not] foresee) that may prove as fatal to a man as the constant course of negligence and unfaithfulness of other men. Here we parted, and I to White Hall to Mr. Wren's (38) chamber, thereto advise with him about the list of ships and commanders which he is to present to the Parliament, and took coach (little Michell being with me, whom I took with me from Westminster Hall), and setting him down in Gracious street home myself, where I find my wife and the two Mercers and Willett and W. Batelier have been dancing, but without a fidler. I had a little pleasure in talking with these, but my head and heart full of thoughts between hope and fear and doubts what will become of us and me particularly against a furious Parliament. Then broke up and to bed, and there slept pretty well till about four o'clock, and from that time could not, but my thoughts running on speeches to the Parliament to excuse myself from the blame which by other men's negligence will 'light, it may be, upon the office.!
This day I did get a list of the fourteen particular miscarriages which are already before the Committee to be examined; wherein, besides two or three that will concern this Office much, there are those of the prizes, and that of Bergen, and not following the Dutch ships, against my Lord Sandwich (42); that, I fear, will ruine him, unless he hath very good luck, or they may be in better temper before he can come to be charged: but my heart is full of fear for him and his family. I hear that they do prosecute the business against my Lord Chief Justice Keeling (60) with great severity.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 22 August 1668. 22 Aug 1668. Up betimes, at it again with great content, and so to the Office, where all the morning, and did fall out with W. Pen (47) about his slight performance of his office, and so home to dinner, fully satisfied that this Office must sink or the whole Service be undone.
To the office all the afternoon again, and then home to supper and to bed, my mind being pretty well at ease, my great letter being now finished to my full content; and I thank God I have opportunity of doing it, though I know it will set the Office and me by the ears for ever. This morning Captain Cocke (51) comes, and tells me that he is now assured that it is true, what he told me the other day, that our whole Office will be turned out, only me, which, whether he says true or no, I know not, nor am much concerned, though I should be better contented to have it thus than otherwise. This afternoon, after I was weary in my business of the office, I went forth to the 'Change, thinking to have spoke with Captain Cocke (51), but he was not within. So I home, and took London-bridge in my way; walking down Fish Street and Gracious Street, to see how very fine a descent they have now made down the hill, that it is become very easy and pleasant, and going through Leaden-Hall, it being market-day, I did see a woman catched, that had stolen a shoulder of mutton off of a butcher's stall, and carrying it wrapt up in a cloth, in a basket. The jade was surprised, and did not deny it, and the woman so silly, as to let her go that took it, only taking the meat.
Cross Keys Gracechurch Street, City of London
Ship Tavern, Gracechurch Street, City of London
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 January. 31 Jan 1690. Friday, I dined at Ship in Gratious Streete with Biddolph, 2 Mainwarings, 2 sons, daughters, Morgan, Minshall &c; went about 6 to a Quakers Taverne in Cornehill; there was Dashwood, Lewes, Thomas, Smith, Morgan, Mainwaring, my sonne (39) &c; parted past 9.
St Benet Gracechurch, Gracechurch Street, City of London
Before 1100. St Benet Gracechurch was known as Grass Church given the nearby haymarket. St Benet is a shortened form of St Benedict of Nursia who founded Western monasticism. It was destroyed in the Great Fire of London and rebuilt by Christopher Wren 1632-1723.
Wriothesley's Chronicle Henry VII. 1491. This yeare, June, King Henrie the Eight was borne at Greenewich, which was second sonne to King Henry the Vllth (33), named Duke of Yorke. Sir Robert Chamberlayne (53) beheaded. A conduict begon at Christ Churche. Note. Christ Churche is believed to be a typo for Grace Church.
In 1868 St Benet Gracechurch was demolished to allow for the widening of Gracechurch Street.