St Sepulchre without Newgate is in St Sepulchre without Newgate Parish.
On 10 Dec 1541. At Tyburn ....
Francis Dereham (28) was hanged.
Thomas Culpepper 1514-1541 (27) was beheaded. He was buried at St Sepulchre without Newgate.
Diary of Henry Machyn May 1554. 24 May 1554. The xxiiij day of May was Corpus Christi day, and .... ther wher mony goodly pr[oss]essyons in mony parryches .. was yll, for mony had long torchys garnyshyd [in the] old fassyouns, and stayffe torchys bornyng, and mony [canopies] borne a-bowt the strett; and sant Pulcurs parryche went a-bowt ther owne parryche, and in Smythfeld; as they wher goohyng, ther cam a man unto the prest [that bare] the sacrament, and began to pluke ytt owt of ys hand, and contenent he druw ys dager (blank), and contenent he was taken and cared to Nuwgate.
Diary of Henry Machyn January 1555. 22 Jan 1555. The xxij day of Januarij was raynyd at my lord chansseler (72) plasse by-syd sant Mare Overes ser John Hoper (60) latt bysshope of Glosetur, doctur C[rome], as the parsun of Wyttyngtun colege, harold Tomson, Rogars parsun or veker of sant Pulkers, and dyvers odur.
Diary of Henry Machyn July 1557. 06 Jul 1557. The vi day of July was bered at sant Pulkers with-owtt Nuwgatt, master Stukley; with ij whytt branchys and (blank) stayffes torchys, and with armes.
Diary of Henry Machyn December 1557. 13 Dec 1557. The xiij day of Desember was bered in the parryche of sant Pulkurs with-owt Newgatt ser Wylliam West (49) knyght, with iij haroldes of armes, with a standard, penon of armes, cott-armur, elmett, targatt, sword, and ij baners of emages, ij whytt branchys, xij torchys, and the xij powre men had nuw gownes; and iiij gylt candyll-stykes, and iiij grett tapurs; and mony morners, boyth men and women; and iiij dossen of skochyons of armes; and the morowe iij masses songe, on of the Trenete, a-nodur of owre Lade, and the iij of requiem; and a trentalle of masses songe; and ther was ys standard and cott and elmet and the sword and the baners offered; and a sermon; and after to dener, for ther was a grett dener.
On 21 Oct 1560 Master John Veron Preacher obtained the vicarage of St Sepulchre without Newgate.
Diary of Henry Machyn May 1561. 14 May 1561. The xiiij day of May, was Assensyon evyn, was bered in sant Pulkers parryche my lade Esley (51) the wyfg of ser Henre Hesley (61) knyght, of Kentt, the wyche he cam in with sir Thomas Wyett (40) knyght by quen Mare('s) days, and he was hangyd and drane and quartered, and ys hed sent unto Maydston, and set a-pone (blank) and she had nothyng done for here, butt master Skammeler (41) mad a sermon for here — the byshope of Peterborow,
Diary of Henry Machyn July 1561. 13 Jul 1561. The sam day was bered in sant Pulkurs parryche master (blank) alle-bruar [ale brewer], and ther was all the compene of the Bruars in ther levere, and Veron the Frenche-man dyd pryche for hym.
Diary of Henry Machyn January 1562. 27 Jan 1562. The xxvij day of January was bered master Charlys Wrys[seley] (53) alyas Wyndsore, with all the haroldes of armes, master Garter (52), master Clarenshux (52), master Chaster alleas Norrey (52), master Somersett, [master York,] master Rychmond, master Lankester, Rugecrosse, Ruge-dragon, [Portcullis,] and Blumantylle, with vj skochyons of armes, in sant P[ulcher's] parryche, bered in the body of the chyrche; and they [ie the heralds] payd the ch[arges].
Diary of Henry Machyn March 1563. 08 Mar 1563. The viij day of Marche wher hangyd at Tyburne x men; [one] was Brutun, and (blank) after browth bake to sant Pulkurs ther to be bered, and ther master Veron the vecar mad a sermon for them.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 August 1662. 10 Aug 1662. Lord's Day. Being to dine at my brother's, I walked to St. Dunstan's, the church being now finished; and here I heard Dr. Bates,' who made a most eloquent sermon; and I am sorry I have hitherto had so low an opinion of the man, for I have not heard a neater sermon a great while, and more to my content.
So to Tom's, where Dr. Fairebrother, newly come from Cambridge, met me, and Dr. Thomas Pepys (41). I framed myself as pleasant as I could, but my mind was another way. Hither came my uncle Fenner, hearing that I was here, and spoke to me about Pegg Kite's business of her portion, which her husband demands, but I will have nothing to do with it. I believe he has no mind to part with the money out of his hands, but let him do what he will with it. He told me the new service-book1 (which is now lately come forth) was laid upon their deske at St. Sepulchre's for Mr. Gouge to read; but he laid it aside, and would not meddle with it: and I perceive the Presbyters do all prepare to give over all against Bartholomew-tide2. Mr. Herring, being lately turned out at St. Bride's, did read the psalm to the people while they sung at Dr. Bates's, which methought is a strange turn.
After dinner to St. Bride's, and there heard one Carpenter, an old man, who, they say, hath been a Jesuit priest, and is come over to us; but he preaches very well.
So home with Mrs. Turner (39), and there hear that Mr. Calamy hath taken his farewell this day of his people, and that others will do so the next. Sunday. Mr. Turner, the draper, I hear, is knighted, made Alderman, and pricked for Sheriffe, with Sir Thomas Bluddel, for the next year, by the King (32), and so are called with great honour the King's Sheriffes.
Thence walked home, meeting Mr. Moore by the way, and he home with me and walked till it was dark in the garden, and so good night, and I to my closet in my office to perfect my Journall and to read my solemn vows, and so to bed.
Note 1. The Common Prayer Book of 1662, now in use.
Note 2. Thomas Gouge (1609-1681), an eminent Presbyterian minister, son of William Gouge, D.D. (lecturer at and afterwards Rector of St. Anne's, Blackfriars). He was vicar of the parish of St. Sepulchre from 1638 until the Act of Uniformity, in 1662, forced him to resign his living.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 06 April 1664. 06 Apr 1664. Up and to my office, whither by and by came John Noble, my father's old servant, to speake with me. I smelling the business, took him home; and there, all alone, he told me how he had been serviceable to my brother Tom (30), in the business of his getting his servant, an ugly jade, Margaret, with child. She was brought to bed in St. Sepulchre's parish of two children; one is dead, the other is alive; her name Elizabeth, and goes by the name of Taylor, daughter to John Taylor. It seems Tom did a great while trust one Crawly with the business, who daily got money of him; and at last, finding himself abused, he broke the matter to J. Noble, upon a vowe of secresy. Tom's first plott was to go on the other side the water and give a beggar woman something to take the child. They did once go, but did nothing, J. Noble saying that seven years hence the mother might come to demand the child and force him to produce it, or to be suspected of murder. Then I think it was that they consulted, and got one Cave, a poor pensioner in St. Bride's parish to take it, giving him £5, he thereby promising to keepe it for ever without more charge to them. The parish hereupon indite the man Cave for bringing this child upon the parish, and by Sir Richard Browne (59) he is sent to the Counter. Cave thence writes to Tom to get him out. Tom answers him in a letter of his owne hand, which J. Noble shewed me, but not signed by him, wherein he speaks of freeing him and getting security for him, but nothing as to the business of the child, or anything like it: so that forasmuch as I could guess, there is nothing therein to my brother's prejudice as to the main point, and therefore I did not labour to tear or take away the paper. Cave being released, demands £5 more to secure my brother for ever against the child; and he was forced to give it him and took bond of Cave in £100, made at a scrivener's, one Hudson, I think, in the Old Bayly, to secure John Taylor, and his assigns, &c. (in consideration of £10 paid him), from all trouble, or charge of meat, drink, clothes, and breeding of Elizabeth Taylor; and it seems, in the doing of it, J. Noble was looked upon as the assignee of this John Taylor. Noble says that he furnished Tom with this money, and is also bound by another bond to pay him 20s. more this next Easter Monday; but nothing for either sum appears under Tom's hand. I told him how I am like to lose a great sum by his death, and would not pay any more myself, but I would speake to my father about it against the afternoon.
So away he went, and I all the morning in my office busy, and at noon home to dinner mightily oppressed with wind, and after dinner took coach and to Paternoster Row, and there bought a pretty silke for a petticoate for my wife, and thence set her down at the New Exchange, and I leaving the coat at Unthanke's, went to White Hall, but the Councell meeting at Worcester House I went thither, and there delivered to the Duke of Albemarle (55) a paper touching some Tangier business, and thence to the 'Change for my wife, and walked to my father's, who was packing up some things for the country. I took him up and told him this business of Tom, at which the poor wretch was much troubled, and desired me that I would speak with J. Noble, and do what I could and thought fit in it without concerning him in it. So I went to Noble, and saw the bond that Cave did give and also Tom's letter that I mentioned above, and upon the whole I think some shame may come, but that it will be hard from any thing I see there to prove the child to be his.
Thence to my father and told what I had done, and how I had quieted Noble by telling him that, though we are resolved to part with no more money out of our own purses, yet if he can make it appear a true debt that it may be justifiable for us to pay it, we will do our part to get it paid, and said that I would have it paid before my own debt. So my father and I both a little satisfied, though vexed to think what a rogue my brother was in all respects. I took my wife by coach home, and to my office, where late with Sir W. Warren, and so home to supper and to bed. I heard to-day that the Dutch have begun with us by granting letters of marke against us; but I believe it not.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 May 1664. 26 May 1664. Up to the office, where we sat, and I had some high words with Sir W. Batten (63) about canvas, wherein I opposed him and all his experience, about seams in the middle, and the profit of having many breadths and narrow, which I opposed to good purpose, to the rejecting of the whole business.
I to Tom Trice, to discourse about my father's giving over his administration to my brother, and thence to Sir R. Bernard (63), and there received £19 in money, and took up my father's bond of £21, that is £40, in part of Piggot's £209 due to us, which £40 he pays for 7 roods of meadow in Portholme.
Thence to my wife, and carried her to the Old Bayly, and there we were led to the Quest House, by the church, where all the kindred were by themselves at the buriall of my uncle Fenner; but, Lord! what a pitiful rout of people there was of them, but very good service and great company the whole was. And so anon to church, and a good sermon, and so home, having for ease put my £19 into W. Joyce's hand, where I left it.
So to supper and to bed, being in a little pain from some cold got last night lying without anything upon my feet.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 June 1664. 04 Jun 1664. Up and to St. James's by coach, after a good deal of talk before I went forth with J. Noble, who tells me that he will secure us against Cave, that though he knows, and can prove it, yet nobody else can prove it, to be Tom's (30) child; that the bond was made by one Hudson, a scrivener, next to the Fountaine taverne, in the Old Bayly; that the children were born, and christened, and entered in the parish-book of St. Sepulchre's, by the name of Anne and Elizabeth Taylor and he will give us security against Cave if we pay him the money.
And then up to the Duke (30), and was with him giving him an account how matters go, and of the necessity there is of a power to presse seamen, without which we cannot really raise men for this fleete of twelve sayle, besides that it will assert the King's power of pressing, which at present is somewhat doubted, and will make the Dutch believe that we are in earnest.
Thence by water to the office, where we sat till almost two o'clock. This morning Captain Ferrer came to the office to tell me that my Lord hath given him a promise of Young's place in the Wardrobe, and hearing that I pretend a promise to it he comes to ask my consent, which I denied him, and told him my Lord may do what he pleases with his promise to me, but my father's condition is not so as that I should let it go if my Lord will stand to his word, and so I sent him going, myself being troubled a little at it.
So to the Committee for Tangier all afternoon, where still the same confused doings, and my Lord Fitz-Harding (34) now added to the Committee; which will signify much. It grieves me to see how brokenly things are ordered.
So by coach home, and at my office late, and so to supper and to bed, my body by plenty of breaking of wind being just now pretty well again, having had a constant akeing in my back these 5 or 6 days. Mr. Coventry (36) discoursing this noon about Sir W. Batten (63) (what a sad fellow he is!) told me how the King (34) told him the other day how Sir W. Batten (63), being in the ship with him and Prince Rupert (44) when they expected to fight with Warwick (76), did walk up and down sweating with a napkin under his throat to dry up his sweat; and that Prince Rupert (44) being a most jealous man, and particularly of Batten, do walk up and down swearing bloodily to the King (34), that Batten had a mind to betray them to-day, and that the napkin was a signal; "but, by God", says he, "if things go ill, the first thing I will do is to shoot him".
He discoursed largely and bravely to me concerning the different sort of valours, the active and passive valour. For the latter, he brought as an instance General Blake; who, in the defending of Taunton and Lime for the Parliament, did through his stubborn sort of valour defend it the most 'opiniastrement' that ever any man did any thing; and yet never was the man that ever made any attaque by land or sea, but rather avoyded it on all, even fair occasions. On the other side, Prince Rupert (44), the boldest attaquer in the world for personal courage; and yet, in the defending of Bristol, no man ever did anything worse, he wanting the patience and seasoned head to consult and advise for defence, and to bear with the evils of a siege.
The like he says is said of my Lord Tiviott, who was the boldest adventurer of his person in the world, and from a mean man in few years was come to this greatness of command and repute only by the death of all his officers, he many times having the luck of being the only survivor of them all, by venturing upon services for the King of France (25) that nobody else would; and yet no man upon a defence, he being all fury and no judgment in a fight.
He tells me above all of the Duke of Yorke (30), that he is more himself and more of judgement is at hand in him in the middle of a desperate service, than at other times, as appeared in the business of Dunkirke, wherein no man ever did braver things, or was in hotter service in the close of that day, being surrounded with enemies; and then, contrary to the advice of all about him, his counsel carried himself and the rest through them safe, by advising that he might make his passage with but a dozen with him; "For", says he, "the enemy cannot move after me so fast with a great body, and with a small one we shall be enough to deal with them"; and though he is a man naturally martiall to the highest degree, yet a man that never in his life talks one word of himself or service of his owne, but only that he saw such or such a thing, and lays it down for a maxime that a Hector can have no courage. He told me also, as a great instance of some men, that the Prince of Condo's (42) excellence is, that there not being a more furious man in the world, danger in fight never disturbs him more than just to make him civill, and to command in words of great obligation to his officers and men; but without any the least disturbance in his judgment or spirit.
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 January 1668. 24 Jan 1668. Up before day to my Tangier accounts, and then out and to a Committee of Tangier, where little done but discourse about reduction of the charge of the garrison, and thence to Westminster about orders at the Exchequer, and at the Swan I drank, and there met with a pretty ingenious young Doctor of physic, by chance, and talked with him, and so home to dinner, and after dinner carried my wife to the Temple, and thence she to a play, and I to St. Andrew's church, in Holburne, at the 'Quest House, where the company meets to the burial of my cozen Joyce; and here I staid with a very great rabble of four or five hundred people of mean condition, and I staid in the room with the kindred till ready to go to church, where there is to be a sermon of Dr. Stillingfleete (32), and thence they carried him to St. Sepulchre's. But it being late, and, indeed, not having a black cloak to lead her with, or follow the corps, I away, and saw, indeed, a very great press of people follow the corps. I to the King's playhouse, to fetch my wife, and there saw the best part of "The Mayden Queene", which, the more I see, the more I love, and think one of the best plays I ever saw, and is certainly the best acted of any thing ever the House did, and particularly Becke Marshall, to admiration. Found my wife and Deb., and saw many fine ladies, and sat by Colonell Reames (54), who understands and loves a play as well as I, and I love him for it. And so thence home; and, after being at the Office, I home to supper, and to bed, my eyes being very bad again with overworking with them.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 June 1668. 04 Jun 1668. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, where Mr. Clerke (45), the solicitor, dined with me and my clerks.
After dinner I carried and set him down at the Temple, he observing to me how St. Sepulchre's church steeple is repaired already a good deal, and the Fleet Bridge is contracted for by the City to begin to be built this summer, which do please me mightily. I to White Hall, and walked through the Park for a little ayre; and so back to the Council-chamber, to the Committee of the Navy, about the business of fitting the present fleete, suitable to the money given, which, as the King (38) orders it, and by what appears, will be very little; and so as I perceive the Duke of York (34) will have nothing to command, nor can intend to go abroad. But it is pretty to see how careful these great men are to do every thing so as they may answer it to the Parliament, thinking themselves safe in nothing but where the judges, with whom they often advise, do say the matter is doubtful; and so they take upon themselves then to be the chief persons to interpret what is doubtful.
Thence home, and all the evening to set matters in order against my going to Brampton to-morrow, being resolved upon my journey, and having the Duke of York's (34) leave again to-day; though I do plainly see that I can very ill be spared now, there being much business, especially about this, which I have attended the Council about, and I the man that am alone consulted with; and, besides, my Lord Brouncker (48) is at this time ill, and Sir W. Pen (47). So things being put in order at the Office, I home to do the like there; and so to bed.