Ludgate Hill is in Ludgate.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 11 February 1660. 11 Feb 1660. Saturday. This morning I lay long abed, and then to my office, where I read all the morning my Spanish book of Rome. At noon I walked in the Hall, where I heard the news of a letter from Monk (51), who was now gone into the City again, and did resolve to stand for the sudden filling up of the House, and it was very strange how the countenance of men in the Hall was all changed with joy in half an hour's time. So I went up to the lobby, where I saw the Speaker (68) reading of the letter; and after it was read, Sir A. Haselrigge (59) came out very angry, and Billing (37) standing at the door, took him by the arm, and cried, "Thou man, will thy beast carry thee no longer? thou must fall!" The House presently after rose, and appointed to meet again at three o'clock. I went then down into the Hall, where I met with Mr. Chetwind, who had not dined no more than myself, and so we went toward London, in our way calling at two or three shops, but could have no dinner. At last, within Temple Bar, we found a pullet ready roasted, and there we dined. After that he went to his office in Chancery Lane, calling at the Rolls, where I saw the lawyers pleading. Then to his office, where I sat in his study singing, while he was with his man (Mr. Powell's son) looking after his business. Thence we took coach for the City to Guildhall, where the Hall was full of people expecting Monk (51) and Lord Mayor (27) to come thither, and all very joyfull. Here we stayed a great while, and at last meeting with a friend of his we went to the 3 Tun tavern and drank half a pint of wine, and not liking the wine we went to an alehouse, where we met with company of this third man's acquaintance, and there we drank a little. Hence I went alone to Guildhall to see whether Monk (51) was come again or no, and met with him coming out of the chamber where he had been with the Mayor and Aldermen, but such a shout I never heard in all my life, crying out, "God bless your Excellence". Here I met with Mr. Lock, and took him to an alehouse, and left him there to fetch Chetwind; when we were come together, Lock told us the substance of the letter that went from Monk (51) to the Parliament; wherein, after complaints that he and his officers were put upon such offices against the City as they could not do with any content or honour, that there are many members now in the House that were of the late tyrannical Committee of Safety. That Lambert (40) and Vane (46) are now in town, contrary to the vote of Parliament. That there were many in the House that do press for new oaths to be put upon men; whereas we have more cause to be sorry for the many oaths that we have already taken and broken. That the late petition of the fanatique people presented by Barebone (62), for the imposing of an oath upon all sorts of people, was received by the House with thanks. That therefore he do desire that all writs for filling up of the House be issued by Friday next, and that in the mean time, he would retire into the City and only leave them guards for the security of the House and Council. The occasion of this was the order that he had last night to go into the City and disarm them, and take away their charter; whereby he and his officers say that the House had a mind to put them upon things that should make them odious; and so it would be in their power to do what they would with them. He told us that they [the Parliament] had sent Scott and Robinson to him (51) this afternoon, but he would not hear them. And that the Mayor and Aldermen had offered him their own houses for himself and his officers; and that his soldiers would lack for nothing. And indeed I saw many people give the soldiers drink and money, and all along in the streets cried, "God bless them!" and extraordinary good words. Hence we went to a merchant's house hard by, where Lock wrote a note and left, where I saw Sir Nich. Crisp (61), and so we went to the Star Tavern (Monk (51) being then at Benson's), where we dined and I wrote a letter to my Lord from thence. In Cheapside there was a great many bonfires, and Bow bells and all the bells in all the churches as we went home were a-ringing. Hence we went homewards, it being about ten o'clock. But the common joy that was every where to be seen! The number of bonfires, there being fourteen between St. Dunstan's and Temple Bar, and at Strand Bridge' I could at one view tell thirty-one fires. In King-street seven or eight; and all along burning, and roasting, and drinking for rumps. There being rumps tied upon sticks and carried up and down. The butchers at the May Pole in the Strand rang a peal with their knives when they were going to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning of the spit that had a rump tied upon it, and another basting of it. Indeed it was past imagination, both the greatness and the suddenness of it. At one end of the street you would think there was a whole lane of fire, and so hot that we were fain to keep still on the further side merely for heat. We came to the Chequers at Charing Cross, where Chetwind wrote a letter and I gave him an account of what I had wrote for him to write. Thence home and sent my letters to the posthouse in London, and my wife and I (after Mr. Hunt was gone, whom I found waiting at my house) went out again to show her the fires, and after walking as far as the Exchange we returned and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 April 1662. 08 Apr 1662. Up very early and to my office, and there continued till noon.
So to dinner, and in comes uncle Fenner and the two Joyces. I sent for a barrel of oysters and a breast of veal roasted, and were very merry; but I cannot down with their dull company and impertinent.
After dinner to the office again. So at night by coach to Whitehall, and Mr. Coventry (34) not being there I brought my business of the office to him, it being almost dark, and so came away and took up my wife. By the way home and on Ludgate Hill there being a stop I bought two cakes, and they were our supper at home.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 21 October 1662. 21 Oct 1662. Up, and while I was dressing myself, my brother Tom (28) being there I did chide him for his folly in abusing himself about the match, for I perceive he do endeavour all he can to get her, and she and her friends to have more than her portion deserves, which now from 6 or £700 is come to £450. I did by several steps shew Tom how he would not be £100 the better for her according to the ways he took to joynture her.
After having done with him to the office, and there all the morning, and in the middle of our sitting my workmen setting about the putting up of my rails upon my leads, Sir J. Minnes (63) did spy them and fell a-swearing, which I took no notice of, but was vexed, and am still to the very heart for it, for fear it should put him upon taking the closett and my chamber from me, which I protest I am now afraid of. But it is my very great folly to be so much troubled at these trifles, more than at the loss of £100, or things of greater concernment; but I forget the lesson I use to preach to others.
After dinner to my office with my head and heart full of troublesome business, and thence by water with Mr. Smith, to Mr. Lechmore, the Counsellor at the Temple, about Field's business; and he tells me plainly that, there being a verdict against me, there is no help for it, but it must proceed to judgment. It is £30 damage to me for my joining with others in committing Field to prison, we being not justices of the Peace in the City, though in Middlesex; this troubled me, but I hope the King (32) will make it good to us.
Thence to Mr. Smith, the scrivener, upon Ludgate Hill, to whom Mrs. Butler do committ her business concerning her daughter and my brother. He tells me her daughter's portion is but £400, at which I am more troubled than before; and they find fault that his house is too little. So after I had told him my full mind, I went away to meet again to-morrow, but I believe the business will be broke off, which for Tom's sake I am much grieved for, but it cannot be helped without his ruin.
Thence to see Mr. Moore, who is pretty well again, and we read over and discoursed about Mrs. Goldsborough's business, and her son coming by my appointment thither, I did tell him our resolution as to her having her estate reconveyed to her. Hither also came my brother, and before Mr. Moore I did advise and counsel him about his match, and how we had all been abused by Mr. Cooke's folly.
So home and to my office, and there settled many businesses, and so home and to supper, and so to bed, Sir W. Pen (41) being still in great pain.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 February 1663. 08 Feb 1663. Lord's Day. Up, and it being a very great frost, I walked to White Hall, and to my Lord Sandwich's (37) by the fireside till chapel time, and so to chappell, where there preached little Dr. Duport, of Cambridge, upon Josiah's words,—"But I and my house, we will serve the Lord". But though a great scholler, he made the most flat dead sermon, both for matter and manner of delivery, that ever I heard, and very long beyond his hour, which made it worse.
Thence with Mr. Creed to the King's Head ordinary, where we dined well, and after dinner Sir Thomas Willis and another stranger, and Creed and I, fell a-talking; they of the errours and corruption of the Navy, and great expence thereof, not knowing who I was, which at last I did undertake to confute, and disabuse them: and they took it very well, and I hope it was to good purpose, they being Parliament-men.
By and by to my Lord's, and with him a good while talking upon his want of money, and ways of his borrowing some, &c., and then by other visitants, I withdrew and away, Creed and I and Captn. Ferrers to the Park, and there walked finely, seeing people slide [ice-skating], we talking all the while; and Captn. Ferrers telling me, among other Court passages, how about a month ago, at a ball at Court, a child was dropped by one of the ladies in dancing, but nobody knew who, it being taken up by somebody in their handkercher. The next morning all the Ladies of Honour appeared early at Court for their vindication, so that nobody could tell whose this mischance should be. But it seems Mrs. Wells (21)1 fell sick that afternoon, and hath disappeared ever since, so that it is concluded that it was her.
Another story was how my Baroness Castlemaine's (22), a few days since, had Mrs. Stuart (15) to an entertainment, and at night began a frolique that they two must be married, and married they were, with ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands and a sack-posset in bed, and flinging the stocking; but in the close, it is said that my Baroness Castlemaine's (22), who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King (32) came and took her place with pretty Mrs. Stuart (15). This is said to be very true.
Another story was how Captain Ferrers and W. Howe both have often, through my Baroness Castlemaine's (22) window, seen her go to bed and Sir Charles Barkeley (33) in the chamber all the while with her. But the other day Captn. Ferrers going to Sir Charles to excuse his not being so timely at his arms the other day, Sir Charles swearing and cursing told him before a great many other gentlemen that he would not suffer any man of the King's Guards to be absent from his lodging a night without leave. Not but that, says he, once a week or so I know a gentleman must go..., and I am not for denying it to any man, but however he shall be bound to ask leave to lie abroad, and to give account of his absence, that we may know what guard the King (32) has to depend upon. The little Duke of Monmouth (13), it seems, is ordered to take place of all Dukes, and so to follow Prince Rupert (43) now, before the Duke of Buckingham (35), or any else.
Whether the wind and the cold did cause it or no I know not, but having been this day or two mightily troubled with an itching all over my body' which I took to be a louse or two that might bite me, I found this afternoon that all my body is inflamed, and my face in a sad redness and swelling and pimpled, so that I was before we had done walking not only sick but ashamed of myself to see myself so changed in my countenance, so that after we had thus talked we parted and I walked home with much ado (Captn. Ferrers with me as far as Ludgate Hill towards Mr. Moore at the Wardrobe), the ways being so full of ice and water by peoples' trampling.
At last got home and to bed presently, and had a very bad night of it, in great pain in my stomach, and in great fever.
Note 1. Winifred Wells (21), maid of honour to the Queen (24), who figures in the "Grammont Memoirs". the King (32) is supposed to have been father of the child. A similar adventure is told of Mary Kirke (17) (afterwards married to Sir Thomas Vernon), who figures in the "Grammont Memoirs" as Miss Warmestre.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 February 1664. 03 Feb 1664. Up, and after a long discourse with my cozen Thomas Pepys (53), the executor, I with my wife by coach to Holborn, where I 'light, and she to her father's, I to the Temple and several places, and so to the 'Change, where much business, and then home to dinner alone; and so to the Mitre Taverne by appointment (and there met by chance with W. Howe come to buy wine for my Lord against his going down to Hinchingbroke, and I private with him a great while discoursing of my Lord's strangeness to me; but he answers that I have no reason to think any such thing, but that my Lord is only in general a more reserved man than he was before) to meet Sir W. Rider and Mr. Clerke (41), and there after much ado made an end, giving Mr. Custos £202 against Mr. Bland, which I endeavoured to bring down but could not, and think it is well enough ended for Mr. Bland for all that.
Thence by coach to fetch my wife from her brother's, and found her gone home. Called at Sir Robert Bernard's about surrendering my estate in reversion to the use of my life, which will be done, and at Roger Pepys (46), who was gone to bed in pain of a boyle that he could not sit or stand.
So home, where my wife is full of sad stories of her good-natured father and roguish brother, who is going for Holland and his wife, to be a soldier.
And so after a little at the office to bed. This night late coming in my coach, coming up Ludgate Hill, I saw two gallants and their footmen taking a pretty wench, which I have much eyed, lately set up shop upon the hill, a seller of riband and gloves. They seek to drag her by some force, but the wench went, and I believe had her turn served, but, God forgive me! what thoughts and wishes I had of being in their place.
In Covent Garden to-night, going to fetch home my wife, I stopped at the great Coffee-house' there, where I never was before; where Dryden (32) the poet (I knew at Cambridge), and all the wits of the town, and Harris (30) the player, and Mr. Hoole of our College. And had I had time then, or could at ether times, it will be good coming thither, for there, I perceive, is very witty and pleasant discourse. But I could not tarry, and as it was late, they were all ready to go away.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 19 August 1664. 19 Aug 1664. Up and to the office, where Mr. Coventry (36) and Sir W. Pen (43) and I sat all the morning hiring of ships to go to Guinny, where we believe the warr with Holland will first break out.
At noon dined at home, and after dinner my wife and I to Sir W. Pen's (43), to see his Lady (40), the first time, who is a well-looked, fat, short, old Dutchwoman, but one that hath been heretofore pretty handsome, and is now very discreet, and, I believe, hath more wit than her husband. Here we staid talking a good while, and very well pleased I was with the old woman at first visit.
So away home, and I to my office, my wife to go see my aunt Wight (45), newly come to town. Creed came to me, and he and I out, among other things, to look out a man to make a case, for to keep my stone, that I was cut of, in, and he to buy Daniel's history, which he did, but I missed of my end.
So parted upon Ludgate Hill, and I home and to the office, where busy till supper, and home to supper to a good dish of fritters, which I bespoke, and were done much to my mind.
Then to the office a while again, and so home to bed. The newes of the Emperour's victory over the Turkes is by some doubted, but by most confessed to be very small (though great) of what was talked, which was 80,000 men to be killed and taken of the Turke's side.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 15 April 1666. 15 Apr 1666. Easter Day. Up and by water to Westminster to the Swan to lay down my cloak, and there found Sarah alone, with whom after I had staid awhile I to White Hall Chapel, and there coming late could hear nothing of the Bishop of London's (74) sermon. So walked into the Park to the Queene's chappell, and there heard a good deal of their mass, and some of their musique, which is not so contemptible, I think, as our people would make it, it pleasing me very well; and, indeed, better than the anthem I heard afterwards at White Hall, at my coming back. I staid till the King (35) went down to receive the Sacrament, and stood in his closett with a great many others, and there saw him receive it, which I did never see the manner of before. But I do see very little difference between the degree of the ceremonies used by our people in the administration thereof, and that in the Roman church, saving that methought our Chappell was not so fine, nor the manner of doing it so glorious, as it was in the Queene's chappell.
Thence walked to Mr. Pierce's, and there dined, I alone with him and her and their children: very good company and good discourse, they being able to tell me all the businesses of the Court; the amours and the mad doings that are there; how for certain Mrs. Stewart (18) do do everything with the King (35) that a mistress should do; and that the King (35) hath many bastard children that are known and owned, besides the Duke of Monmouth (17). After a great deale of this discourse I walked thence into the Parke with her little boy James with me, who is the wittiest boy and the best company in the world, and so back again through White Hall both coming and going, and people did generally take him to be my boy and some would aske me.
Thence home to Mr. Pierce again; and he being gone forth, she and I and the children out by coach to Kensington, to where we were the other day, and with great pleasure stayed till night; and were mighty late getting home, the horses tiring and stopping at every twenty steps. By the way we discoursed of Mrs. Clerke, who, she says, is grown mighty high, fine, and proud, but tells me an odd story how Captain Rolt did see her the other day accost a gentleman in Westminster Hall and went with him, and he dogged them to Moorefields to a little blind bawdy house, and there staid watching three hours and they come not out, so could stay no longer but left them there, and he is sure it was she, he knowing her well and describing her very clothes to Mrs. Pierce, which she knows are what she wears. Seeing them well at home I homeward, but the horses at Ludgate Hill made a final stop; so there I 'lighted, and with a linke, it being about 10 o'clock, walked home, and after singing a Psalm or two and supped to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 December 1666. 08 Dec 1666. Up, and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and there find Mr. Pierce and his wife and Betty, a pretty girle, who in discourse at table told me the great Proviso passed the House of Parliament yesterday; which makes the King (36) and Court mad, the King (36) having given order to my Lord Chamberlain (64) to send to the playhouses and bawdy houses, to bid all the Parliament-men that were there to go to the Parliament presently. This is true, it seems; but it was carried against the Court by thirty or forty voices. It is a Proviso to the Poll Bill, that there shall be a Committee of nine persons that shall have the inspection upon oath, and power of giving others, of all the accounts of the money given and spent for this warr. This hath a most sad face, and will breed very ill blood. He tells me, brought in by Sir Robert Howard (40), who is one of the King's servants, at least hath a great office, and hath got, they say, £20,000 since the King (36) come in.
Mr. Pierce did also tell me as a great truth, as being told it by Mr. Cowly (48), who was by, and heard it, that Tom Killigrew (54) should publiquely tell the King (36) that his matters were coming into a very ill state; but that yet there was a way to help all, which is, says he, "There is a good, honest, able man, that I could name, that if your Majesty would employ, and command to see all things well executed, all things would soon be mended; and this is one Charles Stuart (36), who now spends his time in employing his lips [Note. Another version includes 'and his prick'] .... about the Court, and hath no other employment; but if you would give him this employment, he were the fittest man in the world to perform it". This, he says, is most true; but the King (36) do not profit by any of this, but lays all aside, and remembers nothing, but to his pleasures again; which is a sorrowful consideration.
Very good company we were at dinner, and merry, and after dinner, he being gone about business, my wife and I and Mrs. Pierce and Betty and Balty (26), who come to see us to-day very sick, and went home not well, together out, and our coach broke the wheel off upon Ludgate Hill. So we were fain to part ourselves and get room in other people's coaches, and Mrs. Pierce and I in one, and I carried her home and set her down, and myself to the King's playhouse, which troubles me since, and hath cost me a forfeit of 10s., which I have paid, and there did see a good part of "The English Monsiuer", which is a mighty pretty play, very witty and pleasant. And the women do very well; but, above all, little Nelly (16); that I am mightily pleased with the play, and much with the House, more than ever I expected, the women doing better than ever I expected, and very fine women. Here I was in pain to be seen, and hid myself; but, as God would have it, Sir John Chichly (26) come, and sat just by me.
Thence to Mrs. Pierce's, and there took up my wife and away home, and to the office and Sir W. Batten's (65), of whom I hear that this Proviso in Parliament is mightily ill taken by all the Court party as a mortal blow, and that, that strikes deep into the King's prerogative, which troubles me mightily.
Home, and set some papers right in my chamber, and then to supper and to bed, we being in much fear of ill news of our colliers. A fleete of two hundred sail, and fourteen Dutch men-of-war between them and us and they coming home with small convoy; and the City in great want, coals being at £3 3s. per chaldron, as I am told. I saw smoke in the ruines this very day.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 17 April 1668. 17 Apr 1668. Friday. Called up by Balty's (28) coming, who gives me a good account of his voyage, and pleases me well, and I hope hath got something. This morning paid the Royall Society £1 6s., and so to the office all the morning.
At noon home to dinner with my people, and there much pretty discourse of Balty's (28). So by coach to White Hall: the coachman on Ludgate Hill 'lighted, and beat a fellow with a sword, 2s. 6d. Did little business with the Duke of York (34). Hear that the House is upon the business of Harman (43), who, they say, takes all on himself.
Thence, with Brouncker (48), to the King's house, and saw "The Surprizall", where base singing, only Knepp,' who come, after her song in the clouds, to me in the pit, and there, oranges, 2s. After the play, she, and I, and Rolt, by coach, 6s. 6d., to Kensington, and there to the Grotto, and had admirable pleasure with their singing, and fine ladies listening to us: with infinite pleasure, I enjoyed myself: so to the tavern there, and did spend 16s. 6d., and the gardener 2s. Mighty merry, and sang all the way to the town, a most pleasant evening, moonshine, and set them at her house in Covent Garden, and I home and to bed.
Watling Street 1c Rochester to London. From Durobrivae the road continues through Park Pale, Vagniacis, Dartford, Noviomagus, Bexley, down Shooter's Hill past Eltham Common to Greenwich Park where the road either (or both):
1. went along the Old Kent Road and crossed the River Thames at either the London Bridge or a ford near Westminster Bridge after which it continued north past St Mary le Bow Church Cheapside, Newgate Gate, Ludgate Hill and over the River Fleet at Fleet Bridge to Marble Arch.
Fleet Bridge, aka Ludgate Circus aka Farringdon Circus, was a bridge over the River Fleet that separated Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill. It now forms the junction of Fleet Street, Ludgate Hill and Faringdon Street.