Before 18 Jun 1617 [his father] Richard Evelyn of Wotton 1587-1640 and Eleanor Stansfield 1598-1635 were married.
On 31 Oct 1620 John Evelyn 1620-1706 was born to [his father] Richard Evelyn of Wotton 1587-1640 (33) and Eleanor Stansfield 1598-1635 (21).
On 29 Sep 1635 [his mother] Eleanor Stansfield 1598-1635 (36) died. On 03 Oct 1635 she was buried at St John's Church Wotton.
On 24 Dec 1640 [his father] Richard Evelyn of Wotton 1587-1640 (53) died.
Around 1644. Robert Walker Painter 1599-1658 (45). Portrait of John Evelyn 1620-1706 (23).
Before 10 Sep 1647 John Evelyn 1620-1706 and [his wife] Mary Browne 1635-1708 were married by John Earle Bishop 1601-1665 at Paris. She is first mentioned in his diary John Evelyn's Diary 10 September 1647.
Around 1650 Adriaen Hanneman Painter 1603-1671 (47). Portrait of John Evelyn 1620-1706 (29).
In 1653 [his father-in-law] Richard Browne 1st Baronet Deptford 1605-1683 (48) sold Sayes Court to his son-in-law John Evelyn 1620-1706 (32).
On 25 Jan 1654 [his son] John Stansfield Evelyn 1653-1654 died.
Samuel Pepys to John Evelyn. 27 Apr 1655.
From a letter this day come to my hand from a Shipp of ours (the little Guift) that in a Conflict with a Hollander on the Irish Coast (wherein shoe though much over matched hath acquitted her selfe very well) hath had severall Men wounded, who are putt on shoare for care at Galloway, give me leave to aske you whether any Provision for sick and wounded men is made in Ireland, not with respect to theis Men only, but to the future ocasions in Generall which wee may Probably have of useing it there. You will Pardon this enquiry from one that hath soe little Right to offer you trouble as.
Your humble servant.
Source: NMM Letter-Book 8, 199.
On 15 Feb 1658 [his son] George Evelyn 1657-1658 died.
11 Jun 1662 Royal Society Meeting Minutes. 11 Jun 1662. 82. Royal Society Meeting Minutes.
Sir Robert Moray (54) President.
Dr Petty's (51) brother (42) showed the Society a draft of the pleasure boat he is to make for the King (32).
Dr Goddard brought in a moth with feathered wings.
Mr Evelyn (41) presentd the Society with a book called 'The History of Chalcogrphij'.
Mr Ball to be asked to produce his 'Magnetick Instruments',
Mr Boyle presented the Society with a book of the 'Weight and Spring of Air'; and also with a glass tube filled with Minium, wherewith the experiment of filtering was made.
Note. TT. Not clear which Mr Boyle this is since Richard Boyle -1665 was elected 20 May 1663 and Robert Boyle Scientist 1627-1691 (36) on 22 Apr 1663.
The Amanuensis to enquire about the depth of the water under the arches of London Bridge.
Mr Croone (28) to write to Dr Power about the trial of heat and cold in deep caves.
The Amanuensis to bespeak the long glass tube for the Torricellian Experiment.
18 Jun 1662 Royal Society Meeting Minutes. 18 Jun 1662. 83. Royal Society Meeting Minutes.
Mr Croone (28) read Mr Evelyn's (41) account of the Rowling press.
The Amanuensis to provide a box of blacking.
Dr Goddard (45) set several pieces fo gold to anneal and showed their allays.
Dr Goddard (45) rea his account of the refining of gold by Antimony and Aqua Regis: It was ordered to be registered. [Note in margin; fol. 167]
Sir Robert Moray (54) read his account of the sounding of the depths of water without a line. Ordered ti be registered. [Note in margin; for. 178]
The Operator to enquire of the length of time fishermen keep their fishes without feeding them.
Sir William Petty (39) proposed a Standard for knowing the velocity of seimming bodies.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 May 1665. 01 May 1665. Up and to Mr. Povy's (51), and by his bedside talked a good while. Among other things he do much insist I perceive upon the difficulty of getting of money, and would fain have me to concur in the thinking of some other way of disposing of the place of Treasurer to one Mr. Bell, but I did seem slight of it, and resolved to try to do the best or to give it up.
Thence to the Duke of Albemarle (56), where I was sorry to find myself to come a little late, and so home, and at noon going to the 'Change I met my Lord Brunkard (45), Sir Robert Murry (57), Deane Wilkins (51), and Mr. Hooke (29), going by coach to Colonell Blunts (61) to dinner. So they stopped and took me with them. Landed at the Tower-wharf, and thence by water to Greenwich; and there coaches met us; and to his house, a very stately sight for situation and brave plantations; and among others, a vineyard, the first that ever I did see. No extraordinary dinner, nor any other entertainment good; but only after dinner to the tryall of some experiments about making of coaches easy. And several we tried; but one did prove mighty easy (not here for me to describe, but the whole body of the coach lies upon one long spring), and we all, one after another, rid in it; and it is very fine and likely to take. These experiments were the intent of their coming, and pretty they are.
Thence back by coach to Greenwich, and in his pleasure boat to Deptford, and there stopped and in to Mr. Evelyn's (44)1, which is a most beautiful place; but it being dark and late, I staid not; but Deane Wilkins (51) and Mr. Hooke (29) and I walked to Redriffe; and noble discourse all day long did please me, and it being late did take them to my house to drink, and did give them some sweetmeats, and thence sent them with a lanthorn home, two worthy persons as are in England, I think, or the world.
So to my Lady Batten, where my wife is tonight, and so after some merry talk home and to bed.
1. Sayes Court, the well-known residence of John Evelyn (44).
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 May 1665. 05 May 1665. Up betimes, and by water to Westminster, there to speak the first time with Sir Robert Long (65), to give him my Privy Seal and my Lord Treasurer's (58) order for Tangier Tallys; he received me kindly enough.
Thence home by water, and presently down to Woolwich and back to Blackewall, and there, viewed the Breach, in order to a Mast Docke, and so to Deptford to the Globe, where my Lord Brunkard (45), Sir J. Minnes (66), Sir W. Batten (64), and Commissioner Pett (54) were at dinner, having been at the Breach also, but they find it will be too great charge to make use of it.
After dinner to Mr. Evelyn's (44); he being abroad, we walked in his garden, and a lovely noble ground he hath indeed. And among other rarities, a hive of bees, so as being hived in glass, you may see the bees making their honey and combs mighty pleasantly.
Thence home, and I by and by to Mr. Povy's (51) to see him, who is yet in his chamber not well, and thence by his advice to one Lovett's, a varnisher, to see his manner of new varnish, but found not him at home, but his wife, a very beautiful woman, who shewed me much variety of admirable work, and is in order to my having of some papers fitted with his lines for my use for tables and the like. I know not whether I was more pleased with the thing, or that I was shewed it by her, but resolved I am to have some made.
So home to my office late, and then to supper and to bed. My wife tells me that she hears that my poor aunt James hath had her breast cut off here in town, her breast having long been out of order. This day, after I had suffered my owne hayre to grow long, in order to wearing it, I find the convenience of periwiggs is so great, that I have cut off all short again, and will keep to periwiggs.
At noon, by invitation, to my Lord Bruncker's (45), all of us, to dinner, where a good venison pasty, and mighty merry. Here was Sir W. Doyly (51), lately come from Ipswich about the sicke and wounded, and Mr. Evelyn (44) and Captain Cocke (48). My wife also was sent for by my Lord Bruncker (45), by Cocke (48), and was here.
After dinner, my Lord (45) and his mistress would see her home again, it being a most cursed rainy afternoon, having had none a great while before, and I, forced to go to the office on foot through all the rain, was almost wet to my skin, and spoiled my silke breeches almost. Rained all the afternoon and evening, so as my letters being done, I was forced to get a bed at Captain Cocke's (48), where I find Sir W. Doyly (51), and he, and Evelyn (44) at supper; and I with them full of discourse of the neglect of our masters, the great officers of State, about all business, and especially that of money: having now some thousands prisoners, kept to no purpose at a great charge, and no money provided almost for the doing of it. We fell to talk largely of the want of some persons understanding to look after businesses, but all goes to rack. "For", says Captain Cocke (48), "my Lord Treasurer (58), he minds his ease, and lets things go how they will: if he can have his £8000 per annum, and a game at l'ombre, [Spanish card game] he is well. My Chancellor (56) he minds getting of money and nothing else; and my Lord Ashly (44) will rob the Devil and the Alter, but he will get money if it be to be got".
But that that put us into this great melancholy, was newes brought to-day, which Captain Cocke (48) reports as a certain truth, that all the Dutch fleete, men-of-war and merchant East India ships, are got every one in from Bergen the 3d of this month, Sunday last; which will make us all ridiculous. The fleete come home with shame to require a great deale of money, which is not to be had, to discharge many men that must get the plague then or continue at greater charge on shipboard, nothing done by them to encourage the Parliament to give money, nor the Kingdom able to spare any money, if they would, at this time of the plague, so that, as things look at present, the whole state must come to ruine.
Full of these melancholy thoughts, to bed; where, though I lay the softest I ever did in my life, with a downe bed, after the Danish manner, upon me, yet I slept very ill, chiefly through the thoughts of my Lord Sandwich's (40) concernment in all this ill successe at sea.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 September 1665. 10 Sep 1665. Lord's Day. Walked home; being forced thereto by one of my watermen falling sick yesterday, and it was God's great mercy I did not go by water with them yesterday, for he fell sick on Saturday night, and it is to be feared of the plague. So I sent him away to London with his fellow; but another boat come to me this morning, whom I sent to Blackewall for Mr. Andrews (33). I walked to Woolwich, and there find Mr. Hill (35), and he and I all the morning at musique and a song he hath set of three parts, methinks, very good.
Anon comes Mr. Andrews (33), though it be a very ill day, and so after dinner we to musique and sang till about 4 or 5 o'clock, it blowing very hard, and now and then raining, and wind and tide being against us, Andrews and I took leave and walked to Greenwich. My wife before I come out telling me the ill news that she hears that her father is very ill, and then I told her I feared of the plague, for that the house is shut up. And so she much troubled she did desire me to send them something; and I said I would, and will do so.
But before I come out there happened newes to come to the by an expresse from Mr. Coventry (37), telling me the most happy news of my Lord Sandwich's (40) meeting with part of the Dutch; his taking two of their East India ships, and six or seven others, and very good prizes and that he is in search of the rest of the fleet, which he hopes to find upon the Wellbancke, with the loss only of the Hector, poor Captain Cuttle. This newes do so overjoy me that I know not what to say enough to express it, but the better to do it I did walk to Greenwich, and there sending away Mr. Andrews (33), I to Captain Cocke's (48), where I find my Lord Bruncker (45) and his mistress, and Sir J. Minnes (66). Where we supped (there was also Sir W. Doyly (51) and Mr. Evelyn (44)); but the receipt of this newes did put us all into such an extacy of joy, that it inspired into Sir J. Minnes (66) and Mr. Evelyn (44) such a spirit of mirth, that in all my life I never met with so merry a two hours as our company this night was. Among other humours, Mr. Evelyn's (44) repeating of some verses made up of nothing but the various acceptations of may and can, and doing it so aptly upon occasion of something of that nature, and so fast, did make us all die almost with laughing, and did so stop the mouth of Sir J. Minnes (66) in the middle of all his mirth (and in a thing agreeing with his own manner of genius), that I never saw any man so out-done in all my life; and Sir J. Minnes's (66) mirth too to see himself out-done, was the crown of all our mirth. In this humour we sat till about ten at night, and so my Lord (45) and his mistress home, and we to bed, it being one of the times of my life wherein I was the fullest of true sense of joy.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 23 September 1665. 23 Sep 1665. Up, and to my Lord Sandwich (40), who did advise alone with me how far he might trust Captain Cocke (48) in the business of the prize-goods, my Lord telling me that he hath taken into his hands 2 or £3000 value of them: it being a good way, he says, to get money, and afterwards to get the King's allowance thereof, it being easier, he observes, to keepe money when got of the King (35) than to get it when it is too late. I advised him not to trust Cocke (48) too far, and did therefore offer him ready money for a £1000 or two, which he listens to and do agree to, which is great joy to me, hoping thereby to get something!
Thence by coach to Lambeth, his Lordship, and all our office, and Mr. Evelyn (44), to the Duke of Albemarle (56), where, after the compliment with my Lord very kind, we sat down to consult of the disposing and supporting of the fleete with victuals and money, and for the sicke men and prisoners; and I did propose the taking out some goods out of the prizes, to the value of £10,000, which was accorded to, and an order, drawn up and signed by the Duke (31) and my Lord, done in the best manner I can, and referred to my Lord Bruncker (45) and Sir J. Minnes (66), but what inconveniences may arise from it I do not yet see, but fear there may be many.
Here we dined, and I did hear my Lord Craven (57) whisper, as he is mightily possessed with a good opinion of me, much to my advantage, which my good Lord did second, and anon my Lord Craven (57) did speak publiquely of me to the Duke (31), in the hearing of all the rest; and the Duke (31) did say something of the like advantage to me; I believe, not much to the satisfaction of my brethren; but I was mightily joyed at it.
Thence took leave, leaving my Lord Sandwich (40) to go visit the Bishop of Canterbury (67), and I and Sir W. Batten (64) down to the Tower, where he went further by water, and I home, and among other things took out all my gold to carry along with me to-night with Captain Cocke (48) downe to the fleete, being £180 and more, hoping to lay out that and a great deal more to good advantage.
Thence down to Greenwich to the office, and there wrote several letters, and so to my Lord Sandwich (40), and mighty merry and he mighty kind to me in the face of all, saying much in my favour, and after supper I took leave and with Captain Cocke (48) set out in the yacht about ten o'clock at night, and after some discourse, and drinking a little, my mind full of what we are going about and jealous of Cocke's (48) outdoing me.
So to sleep upon beds brought by Cocke (48) on board mighty handsome, and never slept better than upon this bed upon the floor in the Cabbin.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 27 September 1665. 27 Sep 1665. Up, and saw and admired my wife's picture of our Saviour1, now finished, which is very pretty.
So by water to Greenwich, where with Creed and Lord Rutherford, and there my Lord told me that he would give me £100 for my pains, which pleased me well, though Creed, like a cunning rogue, hath got a promise of half of it from me.
We to the King's Head, the great musique house, the first time I was ever there, and had a good breakfast, and thence parted, I being much troubled to hear from Creed, that he was told at Salsbury that I am come to be a great swearer and drinker, though I know the contrary; but, Lord! to see how my late little drinking of wine is taken notice of by envious men to my disadvantage.
I thence to Captain Cocke's (48), [and] (he not yet come from town) to Mr. Evelyn's (44), where much company; and thence in his coach with him to the Duke of Albemarle (56) by Lambeth, who was in a mighty pleasant humour; there the Duke (31) tells us that the Dutch do stay abroad, and our fleet must go out again, or to be ready to do so.
Here we got several things ordered as we desired for the relief of the prisoners, and sick and wounded men.
Here I saw this week's Bill of Mortality, wherein, blessed be God! there is above 1800 decrease, being the first considerable decrease we have had.
Back again the same way and had most excellent discourse of Mr. Evelyn (44) touching all manner of learning; wherein I find him a very fine gentleman, and particularly of paynting, in which he tells me the beautifull Mrs. Middleton is rare, and his own wife do brave things. He brought me to the office, whither comes unexpectedly Captain Cocke (48), who hath brought one parcel of our goods by waggons, and at first resolved to have lodged them at our office; but then the thoughts of its being the King's house altered our resolution, and so put them at his friend's, Mr. Glanvill's (47), and there they are safe. Would the rest of them were so too! In discourse, we come to mention my profit, and he offers me £500 clear, and I demand £600 for my certain profit.
We part to-night, and I lie there at Mr. Glanvill's (47) house, there being none there but a maydeservant and a young man; being in some pain, partly from not knowing what to do in this business, having a mind to be at a certainty in my profit, and partly through his having Jacke sicke still, and his blackemore now also fallen sicke. So he being gone, I to bed.
1. This picture by Mrs. Pepys may have given trouble when Pepys was unjustifiably attacked for having Popish pictures in his house.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 October 1665. 05 Oct 1665. Lay long in bed talking among other things of my sister Pall, and my wife of herself is very willing that I should give her £400 to her portion, and would have her married soon as we could; but this great sicknesse time do make it unfit to send for her up.
I abroad to the office and thence to the Duke of Albemarle (56), all my way reading a book of Mr. Evelyn's (44) translating and sending me as a present, about directions for gathering a Library1 but the book is above my reach, but his epistle to my Chancellor (56) is a very fine piece.
When I come to the Duke (31) it was about the victuallers' business, to put it into other hands, or more hands, which I do advise in, but I hope to do myself a jobb of work in it.
Round about and next door on every side is the plague, but I did not value it, but there did what I would 'con elle', and so away to Mr. Evelyn's (44) to discourse of our confounded business of prisoners, and sick and wounded seamen, wherein he and we are so much put out of order3. And here he showed me his gardens, which are for variety of evergreens, and hedge of holly, the finest things I ever saw in my life4.
Thence in his coach to Greenwich, and there to my office, all the way having fine discourse of trees and the nature of vegetables. And so to write letters, I very late to Sir W. Coventry (37) of great concernment, and so to my last night's lodging, but my wife is gone home to Woolwich. The Bill, blessed be God! is less this week by 740 of what it was the last week. Being come to my lodging I got something to eat, having eat little all the day, and so to bed, having this night renewed my promises of observing my vowes as I used to do; for I find that, since I left them off, my mind is run a'wool-gathering and my business neglected.
1. Instructions concerning erecting of a Library, presented to my Lord the President De Mesme by Gilbert Naudeus, and now interpreted by Jo. Evelyn, Esquire. London, 1661: This little book was dedicated to Lord Clarendon by the translator. It was printed while Evelyn was abroad, and is full of typographical errors; these are corrected in a copy mentioned in Evelyn's "Miscellaneous Writings", 1825, p. xii, where a letter to Dr. GoDolphin on the subject is printed.
2. A Mrs. Bagwell. See ante, February 14th, 1664-65.
3. Each of the Commissioners for the Sick and Wounded was appointed to a particular district, and Evelyn's district was Kent and Sussex. On September 25th, 1665, Evelyn wrote in his Diary: "my Lord Admiral being come from ye fleete to Greenewich, I went thence with him to ye Cockpit to consult with the Duke of Albemarle (56). I was peremptory that unlesse we had £10,000 immediately, the prisoners would starve, and 'twas proposed it should be rais'd out of the E. India prizes now taken by Lord Sandwich (40). They being but two of ye Commission, and so not impower'd to determine, sent an expresse to his Majesty and Council to know what they should do".
4. Evelyn (44) purchased Sayes Court, Deptford, in 1653, and laid out his gardens, walks, groves, enclosures, and plantations, which afterwards became famous for their beauty. When he took the place in hand it was nothing but an open field of one hundred acres, with scarcely a hedge in it.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 24 October 1665. 24 Oct 1665. Lay long, having a cold. Then to my Lord and sent him going to Oxford, and I to my office, whither comes Sir William Batten (64) now newly from Oxford. I can gather nothing from him about my Lord Sandwich (40) about the business of the prizes, he being close, but he shewed me a bill which hath been read in the House making all breaking of bulke for the time to come felony, but it is a foolish Act, and will do no great matter, only is calculated to my Lord Sandwich's (40) case. He shewed me also a good letter printed from the Bishopp of Munster to the States of Holland shewing the state of their case. Here we did some business and so broke up and I to Cocke (48), where Mr. Evelyn (44) was, to dinner, and there merry, yet vexed again at publique matters, and to see how little heed is had to the prisoners and sicke and wounded.
Thence to my office, and no sooner there but to my great surprise am told that my Lord Sandwich (40) is come to towne; so I presently to Boreman's, where he is and there found him: he mighty kind to me, but no opportunity of discourse private yet, which he tells me he must have with me; only his business is sudden to go to the fleece, to get out a few ships to drive away the Dutch.
I left him in discourse with Sir W. Batten (64) and others, and myself to the office till about 10 at night and so, letters being done, I to him again to Captain Cocke's (48), where he supped, and lies, and never saw him more merry, and here is Charles Herbert (25), who the King (35) hath lately knighted1. My Lord, to my great content, did tell me before them, that never anything was read to the King (35) and Council, all the chief Ministers of State being there, as my letter about the Victualling was, and no more said upon it than a most thorough consent to every word was said, and directed, that it be pursued and practised. After much mirth, and my Lord having travelled all night last night, he to bed, and we all parted, I home.
1. This person (25), erroneously called by Pepys Sir C. Herbert, will be best defined by subjoining the inscription on his monument in Westminster Abbey: "Sir Charles Harbord (25), Knight, third son of Sir Charles Harbord, Knight, Surveyor-General, and First Lieutenant of the Royall James, under the most noble and illustrious Captaine, Edward, Earle of Sandwich, Vice-Admirall of England, which, after a terrible fight, maintained to admiration against a squadron of the Holland fleet, above six hours, neere the Suffolk coast, having put off two fireships; at last, being utterly disabled, and few of her men remaining unhurt, was, by a third, unfortunately set on fire. But he (though he swome well) neglected to save himselfe, as some did, and out of perfect love to that worthy Lord, whom, for many yeares, he had constantly accompanyed, in all his honourable employments, and in all the engagements of the former warre, dyed with him, at the age of xxxii., much bewailed by his father, whom he never offended; and much beloved by all for his knowne piety, vertue, loyalty, fortitude, and fidelity". B.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 25 October 1665. 25 Oct 1665. Up and to my Lord Sandwich's (40), where several Commanders, of whom I took the state of all their ships, and of all could find not above four capable of going out. The truth is, the want of victuals being the whole overthrow of this yeare both at sea, and now at the Nore here and Portsmouth, where all the fleete lies.
By and by comes down my Lord, and then he and I an houre together alone upon private discourse. He tells me that Mr. Coventry (37) and he are not reconciled, but declared enemies: the only occasion of it being, he tells me, his ill usage from him about the first fight, wherein he had no right done him, which, methinks, is a poor occasion, for, in my conscience, that was no design of Coventry's. But, however, when I asked my Lord whether it were not best, though with some condescension, to be friends with him, he told me it was not possible, and so I stopped. He tells me, as very private, that there are great factions at the Court between the King's party and the Duke of Yorke's (32), and that the King (35), which is a strange difficulty, do favour my Lord in opposition to the Duke's party; that my Chancellor (56), being, to be sure, the patron of the Duke's, it is a mystery whence it should be that Mr. Coventry (37) is looked upon by him (56) [Clarendon] as an enemy to him; that if he had a mind himself to be out of this employment, as Mr. Coventry (37), he believes, wishes, and himself and I do incline to wish it also, in many respects, yet he believes he shall not be able, because of the King (35), who will keepe him in on purpose, in opposition to the other party; that Prince Rupert (45) and he are all possible friends in the world; that Coventry (37) hath aggravated this business of the prizes, though never so great plundering in the world as while the Duke and he were at sea; and in Sir John Lawson's (50) time he could take and pillage, and then sink a whole ship in the Streights, and Coventry (37) say nothing to it; that my Lord Arlington (47) is his fast friend; that the Chancellor (56) is cold to him, and though I told him that I and the world do take my Chancellor (56), in his speech the other day, to have said as much as could be wished, yet he thinks he did not.
That my Chancellor (56) do from hence begin to be cold to him, because of his seeing him and Arlington (47) so great: that nothing at Court is minded but faction and pleasure, and nothing intended of general good to the Kingdom by anybody heartily; so that he believes with me, in a little time confusion will certainly come over all the nation. He told me how a design was carried on a while ago, for the Duke of Yorke (32) to raise an army in the North, and to be the Generall of it, and all this without the knowledge or advice of the Duke of Albemarle (56), which when he come to know, he was so vexed, they were fain to let it fall to content him: that his matching with the family of Sir G. Carteret (55) do make the difference greater between Coventry (37) and him, they being enemies; that the Chancellor (56) did, as every body else, speak well of me the other day, but yet was, at the Committee for Tangier, angry that I should offer to suffer a bill of exchange to be protested.
So my Lord did bid me take heed, for that I might easily suppose I could not want enemies, no more than others. In all he speaks with the greatest trust and love and confidence in what I say or do, that a man can do. After this discourse ended we sat down to dinner and mighty merry, among other things, at the Bill brought into the House to make it felony to break bulke, which, as my Lord says well, will make that no prizes shall be taken, or, if taken, shall be sunke after plundering; and the Act for the method of gathering this last £1,250,000 now voted, and how paid wherein are several strange imperfections.
After dinner my Lord by a ketch down to Erith, where the Bezan was, it blowing these last two days and now both night and day very hard southwardly, so that it has certainly drove the Dutch off the coast.
My Lord being gone I to the office, and there find Captain Ferrers, who tells me his wife is come to town to see him, having not seen him since 15 weeks ago at his first going to sea last. She is now at a Taverne and stays all night, so I was obliged to give him my house and chamber to lie in, which he with great modesty and after much force took, and so I got Mr. Evelyn's (44) coach to carry her thither, and the coach coming back, I with Mr. Evelyn (44) to Deptford, where a little while with him doing a little business, and so in his coach back again to my lodgings, and there sat with Mrs. Ferrers two hours, and with my little girle, Mistress Frances Tooker, and very pleasant. Anon the Captain comes, and then to supper very merry, and so I led them to bed. And so to bed myself, having seen my pretty little girle home first at the next door.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 November 1665. 03 Nov 1665. Was called up about four o'clock and in the darke by lanthorne took boat and to the Ketch and set sayle, sleeping a little in the Cabbin till day and then up and fell to reading of Mr. Evelyn's (45) book about Paynting1, which is a very pretty book.
Carrying good victuals and Tom with me I to breakfast about 9 o'clock, and then to read again and come to the Fleete about twelve, where I found my Lord (the Prince (45) being gone in) on board the Royall James, Sir Thomas Allen (32) commander, and with my Lord an houre alone discoursing what was my chief and only errand about what was adviseable for his Lordship to do in this state of things, himself being under the Duke of Yorke's (32) and Mr. Coventry's (37) envy, and a great many more and likely never to do anything honourably but he shall be envied and the honour taken as much as can be from it.
His absence lessens his interest at Court, and what is worst we never able to set out a fleete fit for him to command, or, if out, to keepe them out or fit them to do any great thing, or if that were so yet nobody at home minds him or his condition when he is abroad, and lastly the whole affairs of state looking as if they would all on a sudden break in pieces, and then what a sad thing it would be for him to be out of the way. My Lord did concur in every thing and thanked me infinitely for my visit and counsel, telling me that in every thing he concurs, but puts a query, what if the King (35) will not think himself safe, if any man should go but him. How he should go off then? To that I had no answer ready, but the making the King (35) see that he may be of as good use to him here while another goes forth. But for that I am not able to say much.
We after this talked of some other little things and so to dinner, where my Lord infinitely kind to me, and after dinner I rose and left him with some Commanders at the table taking tobacco and I took the Bezan back with me, and with a brave gale and tide reached up that night to the Hope, taking great pleasure in learning the seamen's manner of singing when they sound the depths, and then to supper and to sleep, which I did most excellently all night, it being a horrible foule night for wind and raine.
1. This must surely have been Evelyn's "Sculptura, or the History and Art of Chalcography and Engraving in Copper", published in 1662. The translation of Freart's "Idea of the Perfection of Painting demonstrated" was not published until 1668.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 November 1665. 05 Nov 1665. Lord's Day. Up, and after being trimmed, by boat to the Cockpitt, where I heard the Duke of Albemarle's (56) chaplin make a simple sermon: among other things, reproaching the imperfection of humane learning, he cried: "All our physicians cannot tell what an ague is, and all our arithmetique is not able to number the days of a man"; which, God knows, is not the fault of arithmetique, but that our understandings reach not the thing.
Thence I to the Swan, thinking to have seen Sarah but she was at church, and so I by water to Deptford, and there made a visit to Mr. Evelyn (45), who, among other things, showed me most excellent painting in little; in distemper, Indian incke, water colours: graveing; and, above all, the whole secret of mezzo-tinto, and the manner of it, which is very pretty, and good things done with it. He read to me very much also of his discourse, he hath been many years and now is about, about Guardenage; which will be a most noble and pleasant piece. He read me part of a play or two of his making, very good, but not as he conceits them, I think, to be. He showed me his Hortus Hyemalis leaves laid up in a book of several plants kept dry, which preserve colour, however, and look very finely, better than any Herball. In fine, a most excellent person he is, and must be allowed a little for a little conceitedness; but he may well be so, being a man so much above others. He read me, though with too much gusto, some little poems of his own, that were not transcendant, yet one or two very pretty epigrams; among others, of a lady looking in at a grate, and being pecked at by an eagle that was there.
Here comes in, in the middle of our discourse Captain Cocke (48), as drunk as a dogg, but could stand, and talk and laugh. He did so joy himself in a brave woman that he had been with all the afternoon, and who should it be but my Lady Robinson (53), but very troublesome he is with his noise and talke, and laughing, though very pleasant. With him in his coach to Mr. Glanville's (47), where he sat with Mrs. Penington and myself a good while talking of this fine woman again and then went away.
Then the lady and I to very serious discourse and, among other things, of what a bonny lasse my Lady Robinson (53) is, who is reported to be kind to the prisoners, and has said to Sir G. Smith (50), who is her great crony, "Look! there is a pretty man, I would be content to break a commandment with him", and such loose expressions she will have often.
After an houre's talke we to bed, the lady mightily troubled about a pretty little bitch she hath, which is very sicke, and will eat nothing, and the worst was, I could hear her in her chamber bemoaning the bitch, and by and by taking her into bed with her. The bitch pissed and shit a bed, and she was fain to rise and had coals out of my chamber to dry the bed again. This night I had a letter that Sir G. Carteret (55) would be in towne to-morrow, which did much surprize me.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 06 November 1665. 06 Nov 1665. Up, and to my office, where busy all the morning and then to dinner to Captain Cocke's (48) with Mr. Evelyn (45), where very merry, only vexed after dinner to stay too long for our coach.
At last, however, to Lambeth and thence the Cockpitt, where we found Sir G. Carteret (55) come, and in with the Duke (32) and the East India Company about settling the business of the prizes, and they have gone through with it.
Then they broke up, and Sir G. Carteret (55) come out, and thence through the garden to the water side and by water I with him in his boat down with Captain Cocke (48) to his house at Greenwich, and while supper was getting ready Sir G. Carteret (55) and I did walk an houre in the garden before the house, talking of my Lord Sandwich's (40) business; what enemies he hath, and how they have endeavoured to bespatter him: and particularly about his leaving of 30 ships of the enemy, when Pen (44) would have gone, and my Lord called him back again: which is most false.
However, he says, it was purposed by some hot-heads in the House of Commons, at the same time when they voted a present to the Duke of Yorke (32), to have voted £10,000 to the Prince (45), and half-a-crowne to my Lord of Sandwich (40); but nothing come of it1.
But, for all this, the King (35) is most firme to my Lord, and so is my Chancellor (56), and my Lord Arlington (47).
The Prince (45), in appearance, kind; the Duke of Yorke (32) silent, says no hurt; but admits others to say it in his hearing. Sir W. Pen (44), the falsest rascal that ever was in the world; and that this afternoon the Duke of Albemarle (56) did tell him that Pen (44) was a very cowardly rogue, and one that hath brought all these rogueish fanatick Captains into the fleete, and swears he should never go out with the fleete again. That Sir W. Coventry (37) is most kind to Pen (44) still; and says nothing nor do any thing openly to the prejudice of my Lord. He agrees with me, that it is impossible for the King (35) [to] set out a fleete again the next year; and that he fears all will come to ruine, there being no money in prospect but these prizes, which will bring, it may be, £20,000, but that will signify nothing in the world for it.
That this late Act of Parliament for bringing the money into the Exchequer, and making of it payable out there, intended as a prejudice to him and will be his convenience hereafter and ruine the King's business, and so I fear it will and do wonder Sir W. Coventry (37) would be led by Sir G. Downing (40) to persuade the King (35) and Duke (32) to have it so, before they had thoroughly weighed all circumstances; that for my Lord, the King (35) has said to him lately that I was an excellent officer, and that my Chancellor (56) do, he thinks, love and esteem of me as well as he do of any man in England that he hath no more acquaintance with.
So having done and received from me the sad newes that we are like to have no money here a great while, not even of the very prizes, I set up my rest2 in giving up the King's service to be ruined and so in to supper, where pretty merry, and after supper late to Mr. Glanville's (47), and Sir G. Carteret (55) to bed. I also to bed, it being very late.
1. The tide of popular indignation ran high against Lord Sandwich (40), and he was sent to Spain as ambassador to get him honourably out of the way (see post, December 6th).
2. The phrase "set up my rest" is a metaphor from the once fashionable game of Primero, meaning, to stand upon the cards you have in your hand, in hopes they may prove better than those of your adversary. Hence, to make up your mind, to be determined (see Nares's "Glossary").
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 10 December 1665. 10 Dec 1665. Lord's Day. Lay long talking, Hill (35) and I, with great pleasure, and then up, and being ready walked to Cocke's (48) for some newes, but heard none, only they would have us stay their dinner, and sent for my wife, who come, and very merry we were, there being Sir Edmund Pooly (46) and Mr. Evelyn (45). Before we had dined comes Mr. Andrews (33), whom we had sent for to Bow, and so after dinner home, and there we sang some things, but not with much pleasure, Mr. Andrews (33) being in so great haste to go home, his wife looking every hour to be brought to bed. He gone Mr. Hill (35) and I continued our musique, one thing after another, late till supper, and so to bed with great pleasure.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 17 December 1665. 17 Dec 1665. Lord's Day. After being trimmed word brought me that Mr. Cutler's coach is, by appointment, come to the Isle of Doggs for me, and so I over the water; and in his coach to Hackney, a very fine, cold, clear, frosty day. At his house I find him with a plain little dinner, good wine, and welcome. He is still a prating man; and the more I know him, the less I find in him. A pretty house he hath here indeed, of his owne building. His old mother was an object at dinner that made me not like it; and, after dinner, to visit his sicke wife I did not also take much joy in, but very friendly he is to me, not for any kindnesse I think he hath to any man, but thinking me, I perceive, a man whose friendship is to be looked after.
After dinner back again and to Deptford to Mr. Evelyn's (45), who was not within, but I had appointed my cozen Thos. Pepys of Hatcham to meet me there, to discourse about getting his £1000 of my Lord Sandwich (40), having now an opportunity of my having above that sum in my hands of his. I found this a dull fellow still in all his discourse, but in this he is ready enough to embrace what I counsel him to, which is, to write importunately to my Lord and me about it and I will look after it. I do again and again declare myself a man unfit to be security for such a sum. He walked with me as far as Deptford upper towne, being mighty respectfull to me, and there parted, he telling me that this towne is still very bad of the plague.
I walked to Greenwich first, to make a short visit to my Lord Bruncker (45), and next to Mrs. Penington and spent all the evening with her with the same freedom I used to have and very pleasant company. With her till one of the clock in the morning and past, and so to my lodging to bed, and
Diary of Samuel Pepys 21 December 1665. 21 Dec 1665. At the office all the morning. At noon all of us dined at Captain Cocke's (48) at a good chine of beef, and other good meat; but, being all frost-bitten, was most of it unroast; but very merry, and a good dish of fowle we dressed ourselves. Mr. Evelyn (45) there, in very good humour.
All the afternoon till night pleasant, and then I took my leave of them and to the office, where I wrote my letters, and away home, my head full of business and some trouble for my letting my accounts go so far that I have made an oathe this night for the drinking no wine, &c., on such penalties till I have passed my accounts and cleared all.
Coming home and going to bed, the boy tells me his sister Daniel has provided me a supper of little birds killed by her husband, and I made her sup with me, and after supper were alone a great while, and I had the pleasure of her lips, she being a pretty woman, and one whom a great belly becomes as well as ever I saw any.
She gone, I to bed. This day I was come to by Mrs. Burrows, of Westminster, Lieutenant Burrows (lately dead) his wife, a most pretty woman and my old acquaintance; I had a kiss or two of her, and a most modest woman she is.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 January 1666. 28 Jan 1666. And up again about six (Lord's day), and being dressed in my velvett coate and plain cravatte took a Hackney coach provided ready for me by eight o'clock, and so to my Lord Bruncker's (46) with all my papers, and there took his coach with four horses and away toward Hampton Court, having a great deale of good discourse with him, particularly about his coming to lie at the office, when I went further in inviting him to than I intended, having not yet considered whether it will be convenient for me or no to have him here so near us, and then of getting Mr. Evelyn (45) or Sir Robert Murray (58) into the Navy in the room of Sir Thomas Harvey (40).
At Brainford I 'light, having need to shit, and went into an Inne doore that stood open, found the house of office and used it, but saw no people, only after I was in the house, heard a great dogg barke, and so was afeard how I should get safe back again, and therefore drew my sword and scabbard out of my belt to have ready in my hand, but did not need to use it, but got safe into the coach again, but lost my belt by the shift, not missing it till I come to Hampton Court. At the Wicke found Sir J. Minnes (66) and Sir W. Batten (65) at a lodging provided for us by our messenger, and there a good dinner ready.
After dinner took coach and to Court, where we find the King (35), and Duke (32), and Lords, all in council; so we walked up and down: there being none of the ladies come, and so much the more business I hope will be done.
The Council being up, out comes the King (35), and I kissed his hand, and he grasped me very kindly by the hand. The Duke (32) also, I kissed his, and he mighty kind, and Sir W. Coventry (38). I found my Lord Sandwich (40) there, poor man! I see with a melancholy face, and suffers his beard to grow on his upper lip more than usual. I took him a little aside to know when I should wait on him, and where: he told me, and that it would be best to meet at his lodgings, without being seen to walk together. Which I liked very well; and, Lord! to see in what difficulty I stand, that I dare not walk with Sir W. Coventry (38), for fear my Lord or Sir G. Carteret (56) should see me; nor with either of them, for fear Sir W. Coventry (38) should.
After changing a few words with Sir W. Coventry (38), who assures me of his respect and love to me, and his concernment for my health in all this sickness, I went down into one of the Courts, and there met the King (35) and Duke (32); and the Duke called me to him. And the King (35) come to me of himself, and told me, "Mr. Pepys", says he, "I do give you thanks for your good service all this year, and I assure you I am very sensible of it". And the Duke of Yorke (32) did tell me with pleasure, that he had read over my discourse about pursers, and would have it ordered in my way, and so fell from one discourse to another.
I walked with them quite out of the Court into the fields, and then back to my Lord Sandwich's (40) chamber, where I find him very melancholy and not well satisfied, I perceive, with my carriage to Sir G. Carteret (56), but I did satisfy him and made him confess to me, that I have a very hard game to play; and told me he was sorry to see it, and the inconveniences which likely may fall upon me with him; but, for all that, I am not much afeard, if I can but keepe out of harm's way in not being found too much concerned in my Lord's or Sir G. Carteret's (56) matters, and that I will not be if I can helpe it. He hath got over his business of the prizes, so far as to have a privy seale passed for all that was in his distribution to the officers, which I am heartily glad of; and, for the rest, he must be answerable for what he is proved to have. But for his pardon for anything else, he thinks it not seasonable to aske it, and not usefull to him; because that will not stop a Parliament's mouth, and for the King (35), he is sure enough of him. I did aske him whether he was sure of the interest and friendship of any great Ministers of State and he told me, yes.
As we were going further, in comes my Lord Mandeville (31), so we were forced to breake off and I away, and to Sir W. Coventry's (38) chamber, where he not come in but I find Sir W. Pen (44), and he and I to discourse. I find him very much out of humour, so that I do not think matters go very well with him, and I am glad of it. He and I staying till late, and Sir W. Coventry (38) not coming in (being shut up close all the afternoon with the Duke of Albemarle (57)), we took boat, and by water to Kingston, and so to our lodgings, where a good supper and merry, only I sleepy, and therefore after supper I slunk away from the rest to bed, and lay very well and slept soundly, my mind being in a great delirium between joy for what the King (35) and Duke (32) have said to me and Sir W. Coventry (38), and trouble for my Lord Sandwich's (40) concernments, and how hard it will be for me to preserve myself from feeling thereof.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 29 January 1666. 29 Jan 1666. Up, and to Court by coach, where to Council before the Duke of Yorke (32), the Duke of Albemarle (57) with us, and after Sir W. Coventry (38) had gone over his notes that he had provided with the Duke of Albemarle (57), I went over all mine with good successe, only I fear I did once offend the Duke of Albemarle (57), but I was much joyed to find the Duke of Yorke (32) so much contending for my discourse about the pursers against Sir W. Pen (44), who opposes it like a foole; my Lord Sandwich (40) come in in the middle of the business, and, poor man, very melancholy, methought, and said little at all, or to the business, and sat at the lower end, just as he come, no roome being made for him, only I did give him my stoole, and another was reached me.
After council done, I walked to and again up and down the house, discoursing with this and that man. Among others tooke occasion to thanke the Duke of Yorke (32) for his good opinion in general of my service, and particularly his favour in conferring on me the Victualling business. He told me that he knew nobody so fit as I for it, and next, he was very glad to find that to give me for my encouragement, speaking very kindly of me.
So to Sir W. Coventry's (38) to dinner with him, whom I took occasion to thanke for his favour and good thoughts of what little service I did, desiring he would do the last act of friendship in telling me of my faults also. He told me he would be sure he would do that also, if there were any occasion for it. So that as much as it is possible under so great a fall of my Lord Sandwich's (40), and difference between them, I may conclude that I am thoroughly right with Sir W. Coventry (38). I dined with him with a great deale of company, and much merry discourse. I was called away before dinner ended to go to my company who dined at our lodgings.
Thither I went with Mr. Evelyn (45) (whom I met) in his coach going that way, but finding my company gone, but my Lord Bruncker (46) left his coach for me; so Mr. Evelyn (45) and I into my Lord's coach, and rode together with excellent discourse till we come to Clapham, talking of the vanity and vices of the Court, which makes it a most contemptible thing; and indeed in all his discourse I find him a most worthy person. Particularly he entertained me with discourse of an Infirmary, which he hath projected for the sick and wounded seamen against the next year, which I mightily approve of; and will endeavour to promote it, being a worthy thing, and of use, and will save money.
He set me down at Mr. Gawden's, where nobody yet come home, I having left him and his sons and Creed at Court, so I took a book and into the gardens, and there walked and read till darke with great pleasure, and then in and in comes Osborne, and he and I to talk of Mr. Jaggard, who comes from London, and great hopes there is of a decrease this week also of the plague. Anon comes in Creed, and after that Mr. Gawden and his sons, and then they bringing in three ladies, who were in the house, but I do not know them, his daughter and two nieces, daughters of Dr. Whistler's, with whom and Creed mighty sport at supper, the ladies very pretty and mirthfull. I perceive they know Creed's gut and stomach as well as I, and made as much mirthe as I with it at supper.
After supper I made the ladies sing, and they have been taught, but, Lord! though I was forced to commend them, yet it was the saddest stuff I ever heard. However, we sat up late, and then I, in the best chamber like a prince, to bed, and Creed with me, and being sleepy talked but little.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 31 January 1666. 31 Jan 1666. Lay pretty long in bed, and then up and to the office, where we met on extraordinary occasion about the business of tickets.
By and by to the 'Change, and there did several businesses, among others brought home my cozen Pepys, whom I appointed to be here to-day, and Mr. Moore met us upon the business of my Lord's bond. Seeing my neighbour Mr. Knightly walk alone from the 'Change, his family being not yet come to town, I did invite him home with me, and he dined with me, a very sober, pretty man he is. He is mighty solicitous, as I find many about the City that live near the churchyards, to have the churchyards covered with lime, and I think it is needfull, and ours I hope will be done. Good pleasant discourse at dinner of the practices of merchants to cheate the "Customers", occasioned by Mr. Moore's being with much trouble freed of his prize goods, which he bought, which fell into the Customers' hands, and with much ado hath cleared them. Mr. Knightly being gone, my cozen Pepys and Moore and I to our business, being the clearing of my Lord Sandwich's (40) bond wherein I am bound with him to my cozen for £1000 I have at last by my dexterity got my Lord's consent to have it paid out of the money raised by his prizes. So the bond is cancelled, and he paid by having a note upon Sir Robert Viner (35), in whose hands I had lodged my Lord's money, by which I am to my extraordinary comfort eased of a liablenesse to pay the sum in case of my Lord's death, or troubles in estate, or my Lord's greater fall, which God defend! Having settled this matter at Sir R. Viner's (35), I took up Mr. Moore (my cozen going home) and to my Chancellor's (56) new house which he is building, only to view it, hearing so much from Mr. Evelyn (45) of it; and, indeed, it is the finest pile I ever did see in my life, and will be a glorious house.
Thence to the Duke of Albemarle (57), who tells me Mr. Coventry (38) is come to town and directs me to go to him about some business in hand, whether out of displeasure or desire of ease I know not; but I asked him not the reason of it but went to White Hall, but could not find him there, though to my great joy people begin to bustle up and down there, the King (35) holding his resolution to be in towne to-morrow, and hath good encouragement, blessed be God! to do so, the plague being decreased this week to 56, and the total to 227. So after going to the Swan in the Palace, and sent for Spicer to discourse about my last Tangier tallys that have some of the words washed out with the rain, to have them new writ, I home, and there did some business and at the office, and so home to supper, and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 February 1666. 20 Feb 1666. Up, and to the office; where, among other businesses, Mr. Evelyn's (45) proposition about publique Infirmarys was read and agreed on, he being there: and at noon I took him home to dinner, being desirous of keeping my acquaintance with him; and a most excellent humoured man I still find him, and mighty knowing.
After dinner I took him by coach to White Hall, and there he and I parted, and I to my Lord Sandwich's (40), where coming and bolting into the dining-room, I there found Captain Ferrers going to christen a child of his born yesterday, and I come just pat to be a godfather, along with my Lord Hinchingbrooke (18), and Madam Pierce, my Valentine, which for that reason I was pretty well contented with, though a little vexed to see myself so beset with people to spend me money, as she of a Valentine and little Mrs. Tooker, who is come to my house this day from Greenwich, and will cost me 20s., my wife going out with her this afternoon, and now this christening. Well, by and by the child is brought and christened Katharine, and I this day on this occasion drank a glasse of wine, which I have not professedly done these two years, I think, but a little in the time of the sicknesse. After that done, and gone and kissed the mother in bed, I away to Westminster Hall, and there hear that Mrs. Lane is come to town.
So I staid loitering up and down till anon she comes and agreed to meet at Swayn's, and there I went anon, and she come, but staid but little, the place not being private. I have not seen her since before the plague. So thence parted and 'rencontrais a' her last 'logis', and in the place did what I 'tenais a mind pour ferais con her1'. At last she desired to borrow money of me, £5, and would pawn gold with me for it, which I accepted and promised in a day or two to supply her.
So away home to the office, and thence home, where little Mrs. Tooker staid all night with us, and a pretty child she is, and happens to be niece to my beauty that is dead, that lived at the Jackanapes, in Cheapside.
So to bed, a little troubled that I have been at two houses this afternoon with Mrs. Lane that were formerly shut up of the plague.
1. TT. "tenais a mind pour ferais con her". did what I had a mind to do with her.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 29 April 1666. 29 Apr 1666. Lord's Day. Up, and to church, where Mr. Mills, a lazy, simple sermon upon the Devil's having no right to any thing in this world.
So home to dinner, and after dinner I and my boy down by water to Redriffe and thence walked to Mr. Evelyn's (45), where I walked in his garden till he come from Church, with great pleasure reading Ridly's discourse, all my way going and coming, upon the Civill and Ecclesiastical Law. He being come home, he and I walked together in the garden with mighty pleasure, he being a very ingenious man; and the more I know him, the more I love him. His chief business with me was to propose having my cozen Thomas Pepys in Commission of the Peace, which I do not know what to say to till I speake with him, but should be glad of it and will put him upon it.
Thence walked back again reading and so took water and home, where I find my uncle (71) and aunt Wight (47), and supped with them upon my leads with mighty pleasure and mirthe, and they being gone I mighty weary to bed, after having my haire of my head cut shorter, even close to my skull, for coolnesse, it being mighty hot weather.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 June 1666. 04 Jun 1666. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes (67) and Sir W. Pen (45) to White Hall in the latter's coach, where, when we come, we find the Duke (32) at St. James's, whither he is lately gone to lodge. So walking through the Parke we saw hundreds of people listening at the Gravel-pits, [Kensington] and to and again in the Parke to hear the guns, and I saw a letter, dated last night, from Strowd (38), Governor of Dover Castle, which says that the Prince (46) come thither the night before with his fleete, but that for the guns which we writ that we heard, it is only a mistake for thunder1 and so far as to yesterday it is a miraculous thing that we all Friday, and Saturday and yesterday, did hear every where most plainly the guns go off, and yet at Deale and Dover to last night they did not hear one word of a fight, nor think they heard one gun. This, added to what I have set down before the other day about the Katharine, makes room for a great dispute in philosophy, how we should hear it and they not, the same wind that brought it to us being the same that should bring it to them: but so it is. Major Halsey, however (he was sent down on purpose to hear newes), did bring newes this morning that he did see the Prince (46) and his fleete at nine of the clock yesterday morning, four or five leagues to sea behind the Goodwin, so that by the hearing of the guns this morning we conclude he is come to the fleete.
After wayting upon the Duke (32), Sir W. Pen (45) (who was commanded to go to-night by water down to Harwich, to dispatch away all the ships he can) and I home, drinking two bottles of Cocke (49) ale in the streete in his new fine coach, where no sooner come, but newes is brought me of a couple of men come to speak with me from the fleete; so I down, and who should it be but Mr. Daniel, all muffled up, and his face as black as the chimney, and covered with dirt, pitch, and tarr, and powder, and muffled with dirty clouts, and his right eye stopped with okum. He is come last night at five o'clock from the fleete, with a comrade of his that hath endangered another eye. They were set on shore at Harwich this morning, and at two o'clock, in a catch with about twenty more wounded men from the Royall Charles. They being able to ride, took post about three this morning, and were here between eleven and twelve. I went presently into the coach with them, and carried them to Somerset-House-stairs, and there took water (all the world gazing upon us, and concluding it to be newes from the fleete, and every body's face appeared expecting of newes) to the Privy-stairs, and left them at Mr. Coventry's (38) lodging (he, though, not being there); and so I into the Parke to the King (36), and told him my Lord Generall was well the last night at five o'clock, and the Prince (46) come with his fleete and joyned with his about seven. The King (36) was mightily pleased with this newes, and so took me by the hand and talked a little of it. Giving him the best account I could; and then he bid me to fetch the two seamen to him, he walking into the house. So I went and fetched the seamen into the Vane room to him, and there he heard the whole account.
How we found the Dutch fleete at anchor on Friday half seas over, between Dunkirke and Ostend, and made them let slip their anchors. They about ninety, and we less than sixty. We fought them, and put them to the run, till they met with about sixteen sail of fresh ships, and so bore up again. The fight continued till night, and then again the next morning from five till seven at night. And so, too, yesterday morning they begun again, and continued till about four o'clock, they chasing us for the most part of Saturday and yesterday, we flying from them. The Duke (32) himself, then those people were put into the catch, and by and by spied the Prince's (46) fleete coming, upon which De Ruyter (59) called a little council (being in chase at this time of us), and thereupon their fleete divided into two squadrons; forty in one, and about thirty in the other (the fleete being at first about ninety, but by one accident or other, supposed to be lessened to about seventy); the bigger to follow the Duke (32), the less to meet the Prince (46). But the Prince (46) come up with the Generall's fleete, and the Dutch come together again and bore towards their own coast, and we with them; and now what the consequence of this day will be, at that time fighting, we know not. The Duke was forced to come to anchor on Friday, having lost his sails and rigging. No particular person spoken of to be hurt but Sir W. Clerke (43), who hath lost his leg, and bore it bravely. The Duke himself had a little hurt in his thigh, but signified little. The King (36) did pull out of his pocket about twenty pieces in gold, and did give it Daniel for himself and his companion; and so parted, mightily pleased with the account he did give him of the fight, and the successe it ended with, of the Prince's (46) coming, though it seems the Duke (32) did give way again and again. The King (36) did give order for care to be had of Mr. Daniel and his companion; and so we parted from him, and then met the Duke [of York], and gave him the same account: and so broke up, and I left them going to the surgeon's and I myself by water to the 'Change, and to several people did give account of the business.
So home about four o'clock to dinner, and was followed by several people to be told the newes, and good newes it is. God send we may hear a good issue of this day's business! After I had eat something I walked to Gresham College, where I heard my Lord Bruncker (46) was, and there got a promise of the receipt of the fine varnish, which I shall be glad to have.
Thence back with Mr. Hooke (30) to my house and there lent some of my tables of naval matters, the names of rigging and the timbers about a ship, in order to Dr. Wilkins' book coming out about the Universal Language.
Thence, he being gone, to the Crown, behind the 'Change, and there supped at the club with my Lord Bruncker (46), Sir G. Ent, and others of Gresham College; and all our discourse is of this fight at sea, and all are doubtful of the successe, and conclude all had been lost if the Prince had not come in, they having chased us the greatest part of Saturday and Sunday.
Thence with my Lord Bruncker (46) and Creed by coach to White Hall, where fresh letters are come from Harwich, where the Gloucester, Captain Clerke, is come in, and says that on Sunday night upon coming in of the Prince (46), the Duke did fly; but all this day they have been fighting; therefore they did face again, to be sure. Captain Bacon of The Bristoll is killed. They cry up Jenings of The Ruby, and Saunders of The Sweepstakes. They condemn mightily Sir Thomas Teddiman for a coward, but with what reason time must shew. Having heard all this Creed and I walked into the Parke till 9 or 10 at night, it being fine moonshine, discoursing of the unhappinesse of our fleete, what it would have been if the Prince (46) had not come in, how much the Duke hath failed of what he was so presumptuous of, how little we deserve of God Almighty to give us better fortune, how much this excuses all that was imputed to my Lord Sandwich (40), and how much more he is a man fit to be trusted with all those matters than those that now command, who act by nor with any advice, but rashly and without any order. How bad we are at intelligence that should give the Prince (46) no sooner notice of any thing but let him come to Dover without notice of any fight, or where the fleete were, or any thing else, nor give the Duke any notice that he might depend upon the Prince's (46) reserve; and lastly, of how good use all may be to checke our pride and presumption in adventuring upon hazards upon unequal force against a people that can fight, it seems now, as well as we, and that will not be discouraged by any losses, but that they will rise again.
Thence by water home, and to supper (my father, wife, and sister having been at Islington today at Pitt's) and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 09 August 1666. 09 Aug 1666. Up and to the office to prepare business for the Board, Reeves being gone and I having lent him upon one of the glasses. Here we sat, but to little purpose, nobody coming at us but to ask for money, not to offer us any goods.
At noon home to dinner, and then to the office again, being mightily pleased with a Virgin's head that my wife is now doing of.
In the evening to Lumbard-streete about money, to enable me to pay Sir G. Carteret's (56) £3000, which he hath lodged in my hands, in behalf of his son and my Lady Jemimah, toward their portion, which, I thank God, I am able to do at a minute's warning. In my [way] I inquired, and find Mrs. Rawlinson is dead of the sickness, and her mayde continues mighty ill. He himself is got out of the house. I met also with Mr. Evelyn (45) in the streete, who tells me the sad condition at this very day at Deptford for the plague, and more at Deale (within his precinct as one of the Commissioners for sick and wounded seamen), that the towne is almost quite depopulated.
Thence back home again, and after some business at my office, late, home to supper and to bed, I being sleepy by my late want of rest, notwithstanding my endeavouring to get a nap of an hour this afternoon after dinner.
So home and to bed.
John Evelyn's Diary 06 September 1666. 06 Sep 1666. Thursday. I represented to his Majesty (36) the case of the French prisoners at war in my custody, and besought him that there might be still the same care of watching at all places contiguous to unseized houses. It is not indeed imaginable how extraordinary the vigilance and activity of the King (36) and the Duke (32) was, even laboring in person, and being present to command, order, reward, or encourage workmen; by which he showed his affection to his people, and gained theirs. Having, then, disposed of some under cure at the Savoy, I returned to Whitehall, where I dined at Mr. Offley's [Note. Not clear who Mr Offley is? John Evelyn's (45) brother [his brother] George Evelyn of Wotton 1617-1699 (49) was married to Mary Offley -1664], the groom-porter, who was my relation.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 September 1666. 26 Sep 1666. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes (67) to St. James's, where every body going to the House, I away by coach to White Hall, and after a few turns, and hearing that our accounts come into the House but to-day, being hindered yesterday by other business, I away by coach home, taking up my wife and calling at Bennet's, our late mercer, who is come into Covent Garden to a fine house looking down upon the Exchange; and I perceive many Londoners every day come; and Mr. Pierce hath let his wife's closett, and the little blind bed chamber, and a garret to a silke man for £50 fine, and £30 per annum, and £40 per annum more for dieting the master and two prentices.
So home, not agreeing for silk for a petticoat for her which she desired, but home to dinner and then back to White Hall, leaving my wife by the way to buy her petticoat of Bennet, and I to White Hall waiting all day on the Duke of Yorke (32) to move the King (36) for getting Lanyon some money at Plymouth out of some oyle prizes brought in thither, but could get nothing done, but here Mr. Dugdale I hear the great loss of books in St. Paul's Church-yarde, and at their Hall also, which they value about £150,000; some booksellers being wholly undone, among others, they say, my poor Kirton. And Mr. Crumlu all his books and household stuff burned; they trusting St. Fayth's, and the roof of the church falling, broke the arch down into the lower church, and so all the goods burned. A very great loss. His father hath lost above £1000 in books; one book newly printed, a Discourse, it seems, of Courts. Here I had the hap to see my Lady Denham (26): and at night went into the dining-room and saw several fine ladies; among others, Castlemayne (25), but chiefly Denham (26) again; and the Duke of Yorke (32) taking her aside and talking to her in the sight of all the world, all alone; which was strange, and what also I did not like.
Here I met with good Mr. Evelyn (45), who cries out against it, and calls it bitchering1, for the Duke of Yorke (32) talks a little to her, and then she goes away, and then he follows her again like a dog. He observes that none of the nobility come out of the country at all to help the King (36), or comfort him, or prevent commotions at this fire; but do as if the King (36) were nobody; nor ne'er a priest comes to give the King (36) and Court good council, or to comfort the poor people that suffer; but all is dead, nothing of good in any of their minds: he bemoans it, and says he fears more ruin hangs over our heads.
Thence away by coach, and called away my wife at Unthanke's, where she tells me she hath bought a gowne of 15s. per yard; the same, before her face, my Baroness Castlemayne (25) this day bought also, which I seemed vexed for, though I do not grudge it her, but to incline her to have Mercer again, which I believe I shall do, but the girle, I hear, has no mind to come to us again, which vexes me.
Being come home, I to Sir W. Batten (65), and there hear our business was tendered to the House to-day, and a Committee of the whole House chosen to examine our accounts, and a great many Hotspurs enquiring into it, and likely to give us much trouble and blame, and perhaps (which I am afeard of) will find faults enow to demand better officers. This I truly fear. Away with Sir W. Pen (45), who was there, and he and I walked in the garden by moonlight, and he proposes his and my looking out into Scotland about timber, and to use Pett (56) there; for timber will be a good commodity this time of building the City; and I like the motion, and doubt not that we may do good in it. We did also discourse about our Privateer, and hope well of that also, without much hazard, as, if God blesses us, I hope we shall do pretty well toward getting a penny. I was mightily pleased with our discourse, and so parted, and to the office to finish my journall for three or four days, and so home to supper, and to bed. Our fleete abroad, and the Dutch too, for all we know; the weather very bad; and under the command of an unlucky man, I fear. God bless him, and the fleete under him!
1. This word was apparently of Evelyn's own making.
John Evelyn to Samuel Tuke 27 Sep 166. 27 Sep 1666. John Evelyn 1620-1706 (45) to Samuel Tuke 1st Baronet 1615-1674 (51).
It was some foure dayes before the most fatal Conflagration of the (quondam) Cltty of London yt I addressed a few lines to you; little thinking I should so soone have had two such dissolutions to deplore: The burning of the best Towne in the World: and the discease of the best fFriend in ye World, your excellent Lady. Sr, you know they are but small afflictions that are loquacious — greate ones are silent: & if ever greate ones there were, mine eyes have beheld, & mine eares heard them, with an heart so possess'd with sorrow, that it Is not easily expressed; because ye instances have ben altogether stupendous & unparallel'd. But it were in vaine to entertaine you with those formal topics, wh are wont to be apply'd to persons of lesse fortitude & Christian resignation, though I cannot but exhort you to what, I know, you do — looke upon all things in this World as transitory & perishiug; sent us upon condition of quitting them cherefully, when God pleases to take them from us. This consideration alone, (wth the rest of those Graces wh God has furnish'd you wth>all) will be able to alevlate yr passion, & to preserve you from succumbing under yr pressures, wh I confesse are weighty: but not insupportable: Live therefore, I conjure you, & helpe to restore yr deare Country, & to consolate yt ffriends: There is none alive wishes you more sincere happlnesse than my poore family.
I suppose I should have heard ere this from you of all y"^ concerntnents; but impute y"" silence to some possible miscarriage of y"^ Letf^; since the usual place of addresse is w"' the rest reduc'd to ashes & made an heape of ruines. I would give you a more particular relation of this calamitous accident; but I should oppresse you with sad stories, and I. question not but they are come too soone amongst you at Paris with all mlnutenesse, & (were it possible) hyperbolies; There is this yet of lesse deplorable in it: That, as it pleas'd God to order it, little effects of any greate consequence have been lost, besides the houses: — ^That o"^ Merchands at the same instant in w*^ it was permitted y'^ y^ tidings should file over Seas, had so settled all their affaires, as they complying w*'' their forraliie Correspondence as punctualy as if no disaster at all had happen'd; nor do we heare of so much as one that has fail'd. The Exchange is now at Gressham Colledge. Tlie rest of the Qitty (which m.ay consist of neere a 7th part) & suburbs peopl'd with new shopps, the same noyse, bulslnesse & co'merce, not to say vanity. Onely the poore Booke-sellers have ben indede ill treated by Vulcan; so many noble impressions consum'd, hy their trusting them to y* Churches, as the losse is estimated neere two-hundred thousand pounds: w*^^ will he an extraordinary detriment to y^ whole Republiq of Learning. In y* meane time, the King & Parliament are infinitely zealous for the rebuilding of our ruines; & I believe it will universally be the employment of y^ next Spring: They are now busied w'*^ adjusting the claimes of each proprietor, that so they may dispose things for the building after the noblest model: Every body brings in his idea, amongst the rest I P'^sented his Ma^"^ my owne conceptions, w^'' a Discourse annex'd. It was the second that was seene, within 2 dayes after the Conflagration; But Dr. Wren had got the start of me *. Both of us did coincide so frequently, that his Ma^'^ was not displeas'd with it, & it caus'd divers alterations; and truly there was never a more glorious Phoenix upon Earth, if it do at last emerge out of these cinders, & as the designe is layd, with the present fervour of y* undertakers. But these things are as yet im'a- ture; & I pray God we may enjoy peace to encourage those faire dispo- sitions: The miracle is, I have never in my life observ'd a more uni- versal resignation, lesse repining amongst sufferers; which makes me hope, y* God has yet thoughts of mercy towards us: Judgments do not alwayes end where they begin; & therefore let none exult over our calamities: — We know not whose turne it mav be next. But S'", I forbear to entertaine you longer on these sad reflections; but persist to beg of you not to suffer any transportations unbecoming a man of xvirtue; resolve to preserve y"" selfe, if it be possible, for better times, the good & restauration of y"" Country, & the comfort of y"" Friends & Rela- tions, and amongst them of, Sr,
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 December 1666. 14 Dec 1666. Up, and very well again of my pain in my back, it having been nothing but cold. By coach to White Hall, seeing many smokes of the fire by the way yet, and took up into the coach with me a country gentleman, who asked me room to go with me, it being dirty—one come out of the North to see his son, after the burning his house: a merchant. Here endeavoured to wait on the Duke of York (33), but he would not stay from the Parliament.
So I to Westminster Hall, and there met my good friend Mr. Evelyn (46), and walked with him a good while, lamenting our condition for want of good council, and the King's minding of his business and servants. I out to the Bell Tavern, and thither comes Doll to me .... [Note. Other versions include 'and yo did tocar la cosa [ I did touch the thing ] of her as I pleased;'], and after an hour's stay, away and staid in Westminster Hall till the rising of the house, having told Mr. Evelyn (46), and he several others, of my Gazette which I had about me that mentioned in April last a plot for which several were condemned of treason at the Old Bayly for many things, and among others for a design of burning the city on the 3rd of September.
The house sat till three o'clock, and then up: and I home with Sir Stephen Fox (39) to his house to dinner, and the Cofferer (62) with us. There I find Sir S. Fox's Stephen Fox Paymaster 1627-1716 (39) and lady, a fine woman, and seven the prettiest children of theirs that ever I knew almost. A very genteel dinner, and in great state and fashion, and excellent discourse; and nothing like an old experienced man and a courtier, and such is the Cofferer Ashburnham (62).
The House have been mighty hot to-day against the Paper Bill, showing all manner of averseness to give the King (36) money; which these courtiers do take mighty notice of, and look upon the others as bad rebells as ever the last were. But the courtiers did carry it against those men upon a division of the House, a great many, that it should be committed; and so it was: which they reckon good news.
After dinner we three to the Excise Office, and there had long discourse about our monies, but nothing to satisfaction, that is, to shew any way of shortening the time which our tallies take up before they become payable, which is now full two years, which is 20 per, cent. for all the King's money for interest, and the great disservice of his Majesty otherwise.
Thence in the evening round by coach home, where I find Foundes his present, of a fair pair of candlesticks, and half a dozen of plates come, which cost him full £50, and is a very good present; and here I met with, sealed up, from Sir H. Cholmly (34), the lampoone, or the Mocke-Advice to a Paynter1, abusing the Duke of York (33) and my Lord Sandwich (41), Pen (45), and every body, and the King (36) himself, in all the matters of the navy and warr. I am sorry for my Lord Sandwich's (41) having so great a part in it. Then to supper and musique, and to bed.
1. In a broadside (1680), quoted by Mr. G. T. Drury in his edition of Waller's Poems, 1893, satirical reference is made to the fashionable form of advice to the painters "Each puny brother of the rhyming trade At every turn implores the Painter's aid, And fondly enamoured of own foul brat Cries in an ecstacy, Paint this, draw that". The series was continued, for we find "Advice to a Painter upon the Defeat of the Rebels in the West and the Execution of the late Duke of Monmouth (17)" ("Poems on Affairs of State", vol. ii., p. 148); "Advice to a Painter, being a Satire on the French King", &c., 1692, and "Advice to a Painter", 1697 ("Poems on Affairs of State", vol. ii., p. 428).
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 April 1667. 26 Apr 1667. Up, and by coach with Sir W. Batten (66) and Sir W. Pen (46) to White Hall, and there saw the Duke of Albemarle (58), who is not well, and do grow crazy.
Thence I to St. James's, to meet Sir G. Carteret (57), and did, and Lord Berkely (65), to get them (as we would have done the Duke of Albemarle (58)) to the meeting of the Lords of Appeale in the business of one of our prizes. With them to the meeting of the Guinny company, and there staid, and went with Lord Berkely. While I was waiting for him in the Matted Gallery, a young man was most finely working in Indian inke the great picture of the King (36) and Queen (28) sitting, [Charles I and Henrietta Maria.] by Van Dyke (68); and did it very finely.
Thence to Westminster Hall to hear our cause, but [it] did not come before them to-day, so went down and walked below in the Hall, and there met with Ned Pickering (49), who tells me the ill newes of his nephew Gilbert (15), who is turned a very rogue, and then I took a turn with Mr. Evelyn (46), with whom I walked two hours, till almost one of the clock: talking of the badness of the Government, where nothing but wickedness, and wicked men and women command the King (36): that it is not in his nature to gainsay any thing that relates to his pleasures; that much of it arises from the sickliness of our Ministers of State, who cannot be about him as the idle companions are, and therefore he gives way to the young rogues; and then, from the negligence of the Clergy, that a Bishop shall never be seen about him, as the King of France (28) hath always: that the King (36) would fain have some of the same gang to be Lord Treasurer (60), which would be yet worse, for now some delays are put to the getting gifts of the King (36), as that whore my Baroness Byron (40)1, who had been, as he called it, the King's seventeenth whore abroad, did not leave him till she had got him to give her an order for £4000 worth of plate to be made for her; but by delays, thanks be to God! she died before she had it. !He tells me mighty stories of the King of France (28), how great a Prince he is. He hath made a code to shorten the law; he hath put out all the ancient commanders of castles that were become hereditary; he hath made all the Fryers subject to the bishops, which before were only subject to Rome, and so were hardly the King's subjects, and that none shall become 'religieux' but at such an age, which he thinks will in a few, years ruin the Pope, and bring France into a patriarchate. He confirmed to me the business of the want of paper at the Council-table the other day, which I have observed; Wooly being to have found it, and did, being called, tell the King (36) to his face the reason of it; and Mr. Evelyn (46) tells me several of the menial servants of the Court lacking bread, that have not received a farthing wages since the King's coming in. He tells me the King of France (28) hath his mistresses, but laughs at the foolery of our King, that makes his bastards Princes2, and loses his revenue upon them, and makes his mistresses his masters and the King of France (28) did never grant Lavalliere (22)3 any thing to bestow on others, and gives a little subsistence, but no more, to his bastards.
He told me the whole story of Mrs. Stewart's (19) going away from Court, he knowing her well; and believes her, up to her leaving the Court, to be as virtuous as any woman in the world: and told me, from a Lord that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth, and a sober man, that when the Duke of Richmond (28) did make love to her, she did ask the King (36), and he did the like also; and that the King (36) did not deny it, and [she] told this Lord that she was come to that pass as to resolve to have married any gentleman of £1500 a-year that would have had her in honour; for it was come to that pass, that she could not longer continue at Court without prostituting herself to the King (36)4, whom she had so long kept off, though he had liberty more than any other had, or he ought to have, as to dalliance5. She told this Lord that she had reflected upon the occasion she had given the world to think her a bad woman, and that she had no way but to marry and leave the Court, rather in this way of discontent than otherwise, that the world might see that she sought not any thing but her honour; and that she will never come to live at Court more than when she comes to town to come to kiss the Queene (57) her Mistress's hand: and hopes, though she hath little reason to hope, she can please her Lord so as to reclaim him, that they may yet live comfortably in the country on his estate. She told this Lord that all the jewells she ever had given her at Court, or any other presents, more than the King's allowance of £700 per annum out of the Privypurse for her clothes, were, at her first coming the King (36) did give her a necklace of pearl of about £1100 and afterwards, about seven months since, when the King (36) had hopes to have obtained some courtesy of her, the King (36) did give her some jewells, I have forgot what, and I think a pair of pendants. The Duke of York (33), being once her Valentine, did give her a jewell of about £800; and my Lord Mandeville (33), her Valentine this year, a ring of about £300; and the King of France (28) would have had her mother, who, he says, is one of the most cunning women in the world, to have let her stay in France, saying that he loved her not as a mistress, but as one that he could marry as well as any lady in France; and that, if she might stay, for the honour of his Court he would take care she should not repent. But her mother, by command of the Queen-Mother (57), thought rather to bring her into England; and the King of France (28) did give her a jewell: so that Mr. Evelyn (46) believes she may be worth in jewells about £6000, and that that is all that she hath in the world: and a worthy woman; and in this hath done as great an act of honour as ever was done by woman.
That now the Countesse Castlemayne (26) do carry all before her: and among other arguments to prove Mrs. Stewart (19) to have been honest to the last, he says that the King's keeping in still with my Baroness Castlemayne (26) do show it; for he never was known to keep two mistresses in his life, and would never have kept to her had he prevailed any thing with Mrs. Stewart (19).
She is gone yesterday with her Lord to Cobham. He did tell me of the ridiculous humour of our King and Knights of the Garter the other day, who, whereas heretofore their robes were only to be worn during their ceremonies and service, these, as proud of their coats, did wear them all day till night, and then rode into the Parke with them on. Nay, and he tells me he did see my Lord Oxford (40) and the Duke of Monmouth (18) in a Hackney-coach with two footmen in the Parke, with their robes on; which is a most scandalous thing, so as all gravity may be said to be lost among us.
By and by we discoursed of Sir Thomas Clifford (36), whom I took for a very rich and learned man, and of the great family of that name. He tells me he is only a man of about seven-score pounds a-year, of little learning more than the law of a justice of peace, which he knows well: a parson's son, got to be burgess in a little borough in the West, and here fell into the acquaintance of my Lord Arlington (49), whose creature he is, and never from him; a man of virtue, and comely, and good parts enough; and hath come into his place with a great grace, though with a great skip over the heads of a great many, as Chichly and Duncum, and some Lords that did expect it.
By the way, he tells me, that of all the great men of England there is none that endeavours more to raise those that he takes into favour than my Lord Arlington (49); and that, on that score, he is much more to be made one's patron than my Chancellor (58), who never did, nor never will do, any thing, but for money! After having this long discourse we parted, about one of the clock, and so away by water home, calling upon Michell, whose wife and girle are pretty well, and I home to dinner, and after dinner with Sir W. Batten (66) to White Hall, there to attend the Duke of York (33) before council, where we all met at his closet and did the little business we had, and here he did tell us how the King of France (28) is intent upon his design against Flanders, and hath drawn up a remonstrance of the cause of the war, and appointed the 20th of the next month for his rendezvous, and himself to prepare for the campaign the 30th, so that this, we are in hopes, will keep him in employment. Turenne is to be his general. Here was Carcasses business unexpectedly moved by him, but what was done therein appears in my account of his case in writing by itself. Certain newes of the Dutch being abroad on our coast with twenty-four great ships.
This done Sir W. Batten (66) and I back again to London, and in the way met my Lady Newcastle (44) going with her coaches and footmen all in velvet: herself, whom I never saw before, as I have heard her often described, for all the town-talk is now-a-days of her extravagancies, with her velvetcap, her hair about her ears; many black patches, because of pimples about her mouth; naked-necked, without any thing about it, and a black just-au-corps. She seemed to me a very comely woman: but I hope to see more of her on Mayday. My mind is mightily of late upon a coach.
At home, to the office, where late spending all the evening upon entering in long hand our late passages with Carcasse for memory sake, and so home in great pain in my back by the uneasiness of Sir W. Batten's (66) coach driving hard this afternoon over the stones to prevent coming too late. So at night to supper in great pain, and to bed, where lay in great pain, not able to turn myself all night.
2. Louis made his own bastards dukes and Princes, and legitimatized them as much as he could, connecting them also by marriage with the real blood-royal. B.
3. Louise Francoise de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere (22) had four children by Louis XIV., of whom only two survived - Marie Anne Bourbon, called Mademoiselle de Blois, born in 1666, afterwards married to the Prince de Conti (6), and the Comte de Vermandois, born in 1667. In that year (the very year in which Evelyn was giving this account to Pepys), the Duchy of Vaujour and two baronies were created in favour of La Valliere, and her daughter, who, in the deed of creation, was legitimatized, and styled Princess. B.
4. Even at a much later time Mrs. GoDolphin well resolved "not to talk foolishly to men, more especially the King (36)",—"be sure never to talk to the King (36)" ("Life", by Evelyn). These expressions speak volumes as to Charles's character. B.
5. Evelyn evidently believed the Duchess of Richmond to be innocent; and his testimony, coupled with her own declaration, ought to weigh down all the scandal which Pepys reports from other sources. B.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 May 1667. 26 May 1667. Lord's Day. Up sooner than usual on Sundays, and to walk, it being exceeding hot all night (so as this night I begun to leave off my waistcoat this year) and this morning, and so to walk in the garden till toward church time, when my wife and I to church, where several strangers of good condition come to our pew, where the pew was full.
At noon dined at home, where little Michell come and his wife, who continues mighty pretty.
After dinner I by water alone to Westminster, where, not finding Mrs. Martin within, did go towards the parish church, and in the way did overtake her, who resolved to go into the church with her that she was going with (Mrs. Hargrave, the little crooked woman, the vintner's wife of the Dog) and then go out again, and so I to the church, and seeing her return did go out again myself, but met with Mr. Howlett, who, offering me a pew in the gallery, I had no excuse but up with him I must go, and then much against my will staid out the whole church in pain while she expected me at home, but I did entertain myself with my perspective glass up and down the church, by which I had the great pleasure of seeing and gazing at a great many very fine women; and what with that, and sleeping, I passed away the time till sermon was done, and then to Mrs. Martin, and there staid with her an hour or two, and there did what I would with her, and after been here so long I away to my boat, and up with it as far as Barne Elmes, reading of Mr. Evelyn's (46) late new book against Solitude, in which I do not find much excess of good matter, though it be pretty for a bye discourse. I walked the length of the Elmes, and with great pleasure saw some gallant ladies and people come with their bottles, and basket, and chairs, and form, to sup under the trees, by the waterside, which was mighty pleasant. I to boat again and to my book, and having done that I took another book, Mr. Boyle's (40) of Colours, and there read, where I laughed, finding many fine things worthy observation, and so landed at the Old Swan, and so home, where I find my poor father newly come out of an unexpected fit of his pain, that they feared he would have died.
They had sent for me to White Hall and all up and down, and for Mr. Holliard (58) also, who did come, but W. Hewer (25) being here did I think do the business in getting my father's bowel, that was fallen down, into his body again, and that which made me more sensible of it was that he this morning did show me the place where his bowel did use to fall down and swell, which did trouble me to see. But above all things the poor man's patience under it, and his good heart and humour, as soon as he was out of it, did so work upon me, that my heart was sad to think upon his condition, but do hope that a way will be found by a steel truss to relieve him.
By and by to supper, all our discourse about Brampton, and my intentions to build there if I could be free of my engagement to my Uncle Thomas (72) and his son, that they may not have what I have built, against my will, to them whether I will or no, in case of me and my brothers being without heirs male; which is the true reason why I am against laying out money upon that place, together with my fear of some inconvenience by being so near Hinchingbroke; being obliged to be a servant to that family, and subject to what expence they shall cost me; and to have all that I shall buy, or do, esteemed as got by the death of my uncle, when indeed what I have from him is not worth naming. After supper to read and then to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 June 1667. 03 Jun 1667. Up, and by coach to St. James's, and with Sir W. Coventry (39) a great while talking about several businesses, but especially about accounts, and how backward our Treasurer (57) is in giving them satisfaction, and the truth is I do doubt he cannot do better, but it is strange to say that being conscious of our doing little at this day, nor for some time past in our office for want of money, I do hang my head to him, and cannot be so free with him as I used to be, nor can be free with him, though of all men, I think, I have the least cause to be so, having taken so much more pains, while I could do anything, than the rest of my fellows.
Parted with him, and so going through the Park met Mr. Mills, our parson, whom I went back with to bring him to Sir W. Coventry (39), to give him the form of a qualification for the Duke of York (33) to sign to, to enable him to have two livings: which was a service I did, but much against my will, for a lazy, fat priest.
Thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked a turn or two with Sir William Doyly (53), who did lay a wager with me, the Treasurership would be in one hand, notwithstanding this present Commission, before Christmas: on which we did lay a poll of ling, a brace of carps, and a pottle of wine; and Sir W. Pen (46) and Mr. Scowen to be at the eating of them.
Thence down by water to Deptford, it being Trinity Monday, when the Master is chosen, and there, finding them all at church, and thinking they dined, as usual, at Stepny, I turned back, having a good book in my hand, the Life of Cardinal Wolsey, wrote by his own servant, and to Ratcliffe; and so walked to Stepny, and spent, my time in the churchyard, looking over the gravestones, expecting when the company would come by. Finding no company stirring, I sent to the house to see; and, it seems, they dine not there, but at Deptford: so I back again to Deptford, and there find them just sat down. And so I down with them; and we had a good dinner of plain meat, and good company at our table: among others, my good Mr. Evelyn (46), with whom, after dinner, I stepped aside, and talked upon the present posture of our affairs; which is, that the Dutch are known to be abroad with eighty sail of ships of war, and twenty fire-ships; and the French come into the Channell with twenty sail of men-of-war, and five fireships, while we have not a ship at sea to do them any hurt with; but are calling in all we can, while our Embassadors are treating at Bredah; and the Dutch look upon them as come to beg peace, and use them accordingly; and all this through the negligence of our Prince, who hath power, if he would, to master all these with the money and men that he hath had the command of, and may now have, if he would mind his business. But, for aught we see, the Kingdom is likely to be lost, as well as the reputation of it is, for ever; notwithstanding so much reputation got and preserved by a rebel that went before him.
This discourse of ours ended with sorrowful reflections upon our condition, and so broke up, and Creed and I got out of the room, and away by water to White Hall, and there he and I waited in the Treasury-chamber an hour or two, where we saw the Country Receivers and Accountants for money come to attend; and one of them, a brisk young fellow, with his hat cocked like a fool behind, as the present fashion among the blades is, committed to the Serjeant.
By and by, I, upon desire, was called in, and delivered in my report of my Accounts. Present, Lord Ashly (45), Clifford (36), and Duncomb (44), who, being busy, did not read it; but committed it to Sir George Downing (42), and so I was dismissed; but, Lord! to see how Duncomb (44) do take upon him is an eyesore, though I think he deserves great honour, but only the suddenness of his rise, and his pride. But I do like the way of these lords, that they admit nobody to use many words, nor do they spend many words themselves, but in great state do hear what they see necessary, and say little themselves, but bid withdraw.
Thence Creed and I by water up to Fox Hall, and over against it stopped, thinking to see some Cock-fighting; but it was just being done, and, therefore, back again to the other side, and to Spring Garden, and there eat and drank a little, and then to walk up and down the garden, reflecting upon the bad management of things now, compared with what it was in the late rebellious times, when men, some for fear, and some for religion, minded their business, which none now do, by being void of both. Much talk of this and, other kinds, very pleasant, and so when it was almost night we home, setting him in at White Hall, and I to the Old Swan, and thence home, where to supper, and then to read a little, and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 19 June 1667. 19 Jun 1667. Up, and to the office, where all the morning busy with Fist again, beginning early to overtake my business in my letters, which for a post or two have by the late and present troubles been interrupted.
At noon comes Sir W. Batten (66) and Sir W. Pen (46), and we to Sir W. Pen's house, and there discoursed of business an hour, and by and by comes an order from [his father-in-law] Sir R. Browne (62), commanding me this afternoon to attend the Council-board, with all my books and papers touching the Medway. I was ready [to fear] some mischief to myself, though it appears most reasonable that it is to inform them about Commissioner Pett (56). I eat a little bit in haste at Sir W. Batten's (66), without much comfort, being fearful, though I shew it not, and to my office and get up some papers, and found out the most material letters and orders in our books, and so took coach and to the Council-chamber lobby, where I met Mr. Evelyn (46), who do miserably decry our follies that bring all this misery upon us.
While we were discoursing over our publique misfortunes, I am called in to a large Committee of the Council: present the Duke of Albemarle (58), Anglesey (52), Arlington (49), Ashly (45), Carteret (57), Duncomb (44), Coventry (39), Ingram (52), Clifford (36), Lauderdale (51), Morrice (64), Manchester (65), Craven (59), Carlisle (38), Bridgewater (44).
And after Sir W. Coventry's (39) telling them what orders His Royal Highness had made for the safety of the Medway, I told them to their full content what we had done, and showed them our letters. Then was Peter Pett (56) called in, with the Lieutenant of the Tower (52). He is in his old clothes, and looked most sillily. His charge was chiefly the not carrying up of the great ships, and the using of the boats in carrying away his goods; to which he answered very sillily, though his faults to me seem only great omissions. Lord Arlington (49) and Coventry (39) very severe against him; the former saying that, if he was not guilty, the world would think them all guilty1. The latter urged, that there must be some faults, and that the Admiral must be found to have done his part. I did say an unhappy word, which I was sorry for, when he complained of want of oares for the boats: and there was, it seems, enough, and good enough, to carry away all the boats with from the King's occasions. He said he used never a boat till they were all gone but one; and that was to carry away things of great value, and these were his models of ships; which, when the Council, some of them, had said they wished that the Dutch had had them instead of the King's ships, he answered, he did believe the Dutch would have made more advantage of the models than of the ships, and that the King (37) had had greater loss thereby; this they all laughed at.
After having heard him for an hour or more, they bid him withdraw. I all this while showing him no respect, but rather against him, for which God forgive me! for I mean no hurt to him, but only find that these Lords are upon their own purgation, and it is necessary I should be so in behalf of the office. He being gone, they caused [his father-in-law] Sir Richard Browne (62) to read over his minutes; and then my Lord Arlington (49) moved that they might be put into my hands to put into form, I being more acquainted with such business; and they were so.
So I away back with my books and papers; and when I got into the Court it was pretty to see how people gazed upon me, that I thought myself obliged to salute people and to smile, lest they should think I was a prisoner too; but afterwards I found that most did take me to be there to bear evidence against P. Pett (56); but my fear was such, at my going in, of the success of the day, that at my going in I did think fit to give T. Hater, whom I took with me, to wait the event, my closet-key and directions where to find £500 and more in silver and gold, and my tallys, to remove, in case of any misfortune to me.
Thence to Sir G. Carteret's (57) to take my leave of my Lady Jem, who is going into the country tomorrow; but she being now at prayers with my Lady and family, and hearing here by Yorke, the carrier, that my wife is coming to towne, I did make haste home to see her, that she might not find me abroad, it being the first minute I have been abroad since yesterday was se'ennight. It is pretty to see how strange it is to be abroad to see people, as it used to be after a month or two's absence, and I have brought myself so to it, that I have no great mind to be abroad, which I could not have believed of myself.
I got home, and after being there a little, she come, and two of her fellow-travellers with her, with whom we drunk: a couple of merchant-like men, I think, but have friends in our country. They being gone, I and my wife to talk, who did give me so bad an account of her and my father's method in burying of our gold, that made me mad: and she herself is not pleased with it, she believing that my sister knows of it. My father and she did it on Sunday, when they were gone to church, in open daylight, in the midst of the garden; where, for aught they knew, many eyes might see them: which put me into such trouble, that I was almost mad about it, and presently cast about, how to have it back again to secure it here, the times being a little better now; at least at White Hall they seem as if they were, but one way or other I am resolved to free them from the place if I can get them. Such was my trouble at this, that I fell out with my wife, that though new come to towne, I did not sup with her, nor speak to her tonight, but to bed and sleep.
1. Pett (56) was made a scapegoat. This is confirmed by Marvel: "After this loss, to relish discontent, Some one must be accused by Parliament; All our miscarriages on Pett (56) must fall, His name alone seems fit to answer all. Whose counsel first did this mad war beget? Who all commands sold through the Navy? Pett. Who would not follow when the Dutch were beat? Who treated out the time at Bergen? Pett. Who the Dutch fleet with storms disabled met, And, rifling prizes, them neglected? Pett. Who with false news prevented the Gazette, The fleet divided, writ for Ruhert? Pett. Who all our seamen cheated of their debt? And all our prizes who did swallow? Pett. Who did advise no navy out to set? And who the forts left unprepared? Pett. Who to supply with powder did forget Languard, Sheerness, Gravesend, and Upnor? Pett. Who all our ships exposed in Chatham net? Who should it be but the fanatick Pett? Pett, the sea-architect, in making ships, Was the first cause of all these naval slips. Had he not built, none of these faults had been; If no creation, there had been no sin But his great crime, one boat away he sent, That lost our fleet, and did our flight prevent". Instructions to a Painter.—B.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 17 July 1667. 17 Jul 1667. Home, and to dinner, and by and by comes Mr. Pierce, who is interested in the Panther, for some advice, and then comes Creed, and he and I spent the whole afternoon till eight at night walking and talking of sundry things public and private in the garden, but most of all of the unhappy state of this nation at this time by the negligence of the King (37) and his Council. The Duke of Buckingham (39) is, it seems, set at liberty, without any further charge against him or other clearing of him, but let to go out; which is one of the strangest instances of the fool's play with which all publick things are done in this age, that is to be apprehended. And it is said that when he was charged with making himself popular—as indeed he is, for many of the discontented Parliament, Sir Robert Howard (41) and Sir Thomas Meres, and others, did attend at the Council-chamber when he was examined—he should answer, that whoever was committed to prison by my Chancellor (58) or my Lord Arlington (49), could not want being popular. But it is worth considering the ill state a Minister of State is in, under such a Prince as ours is; for, undoubtedly, neither of those two great men would have been so fierce against the Duke of Buckingham (39) at the Council-table the other day, had they [not] been assured of the King's good liking, and supporting them therein: whereas, perhaps at the desire of my Baroness Castlemayne (26), who, I suppose, hath at last overcome the King (37), the Duke of Buckingham (39) is well received again, and now these men delivered up to the interest he can make for his revenge. He told me over the story of Mrs. Stewart (20), much after the manner which I was told it long since, and have entered it in this book, told me by Mr. Evelyn (46); only he says it is verily believed that the King (37) did never intend to marry her to any but himself, and that the Duke of York (33) and Chancellor (58) were jealous of it; and that Mrs. Stewart (20) might be got with child by the King (37), or somebody else, and the King (37) own a marriage before his contract, for it is but a contract, as he tells me, to this day, with the Queene (57), and so wipe their noses of the Crown; and that, therefore, the Duke of York (33) and Chancellor (58) did do all they could to forward the match with my Lord Duke of Richmond (28), that she might be married out of the way; but, above all, it is a worthy part that this good lady hath acted.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 August 1667. 08 Aug 1667. Up, and all the morning at the office, where busy, and at noon home to dinner, where Creed dined with us, who tells me that Sir Henry Bellasses (28) is dead of the duell he fought about ten days ago, with Tom Porter; and it is pretty to see how the world talk of them as a couple of fools, that killed one another out of love.
After dinner to the office a while, and then with my wife to the Temple, where I light and sent her to her tailor's. I to my bookseller's; where, by and by, I met Mr. Evelyn (46), and talked of several things, but particularly of the times: and he tells me that wise men do prepare to remove abroad what they have, for that we must be ruined, our case being past relief, the Kingdom so much in debt, and the King (37) minding nothing but his lust, going two days a-week to see my Baroness Castlemayne (26) at Sir D. Harvy's (35).
He gone, I met with Mr. Moore, who tells me that my Lord Hinchingbrooke (19) is now with his mistress (22), but not that he is married, as W. Howe come and told us the other day.
So by coach to White Hall, and there staid a little, thinking to see Sir G. Carteret (57), but missed him, and so by coach took up my wife, and so home, and as far as Bow, where we staid and drank, and there, passing by Mr. Lowther (26) and his lady (16), they stopped and we talked a little with them, they being in their gilt coach, and so parted; and presently come to us Mr. Andrews (35), whom I had not seen a good while, who, as other merchants do, do all give over any hopes of things doing well, and so he spends his time here most, playing at bowles. After dining together at the coach-side, we with great pleasure home, and so to the office, where I despatched my business, and home to supper, and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 27 September 1667. 27 Sep 1667. Up, and to the office, where very busy all the morning. While I was busy at the Office, my wife sends for me to come home, and what was it but to see the pretty girl which she is taking to wait upon her: and though she seems not altogether so great a beauty as she had before told me, yet indeed she is mighty pretty; and so pretty, that I find I shall be too much pleased with it, and therefore could be contented as to my judgement, though not to my passion, that she might not come, lest I may be found too much minding her, to the discontent of my wife. She is to come next week. She seems, by her discourse, to be grave beyond her bigness and age, and exceeding well bred as to her deportment, having been a scholar in a school at Bow these seven or eight years.
To the office again, my head running on this pretty girl, and there till noon, when Creed and Sheres come and dined with me; and we had a great deal of pretty discourse of the ceremoniousness of the Spaniards, whose ceremonies are so many and so known, that, Sheres tells me, upon all occasions of joy or sorrow in a Grandee's family, my Lord Embassador is fain to send one with an 'en hora buena', if it be upon a marriage, or birth of a child, or a 'pesa me', if it be upon the death of a child, or so. And these ceremonies are so set, and the words of the compliment, that he hath been sent from my Lord, when he hath done no more than send in word to the Grandee that one was there from the Embassador; and he knowing what was his errand, that hath been enough, and he never spoken with him: nay, several Grandees having been to marry a daughter, have wrote letters to my Lord to give him notice, and out of the greatness of his wisdom to desire his advice, though people he never saw; and then my Lord he answers by commending the greatness of his discretion in making so good an alliance, &c., and so ends. He says that it is so far from dishonour to a man to give private revenge for an affront, that the contrary is a disgrace; they holding that he that receives an affront is not fit to appear in the sight of the world till he hath revenged himself; and therefore, that a gentleman there that receives an affront oftentimes never appears again in the world till he hath, by some private way or other, revenged himself: and that, on this account, several have followed their enemies privately to the Indys, thence to Italy, thence to France and back again, watching for an opportunity to be revenged. He says my Lord was fain to keep a letter from the Duke of York (33) to the Queen of Spain (32) a great while in his hands, before he could think fit to deliver it, till he had learnt whether the Queen (28) would receive it, it being directed to his cozen. He says that many ladies in Spain, after they are found to be with child, do never stir out of their beds or chambers till they are brought to bed: so ceremonious they are in that point also. He tells me of their wooing by serenades at the window, and that their friends do always make the match; but yet that they have opportunities to meet at masse at church, and there they make love: that the Court there hath no dancing, nor visits at night to see the King (37) or Queen (28), but is always just like a cloyster, nobody stirring in it: that my Lord Sandwich (42) wears a beard now, turned up in the Spanish manner. But that which pleases me most indeed is, that the peace which he hath made with Spain is now printed here, and is acknowledged by all the merchants to be the best peace that ever England had with them: and it appears that the King (37) thinks it so, for this is printed before the ratification is gone over; whereas that with France and Holland was not in a good while after, till copys come over of it in English out of Holland and France, that it was a reproach not to have it printed here. This I am mighty glad of; and is the first and only piece of good news, or thing fit to be owned, that this nation hath done several years.
After dinner I to the office, and they gone, anon comes Pelling, and he and I to Gray's Inne Fields, thinking to have heard Mrs. Knight sing at her lodgings, by a friend's means of his1 but we come too late; so must try another time.
So lost our labour, and I by coach home, and there to my chamber, and did a great deal of good business about my Tangier accounts, and so with pleasure discoursing with my wife of our journey shortly to Brampton, and of this little girle, which indeed runs in my head, and pleases me mightily, though I dare not own it, and so to supper and to bed.
1. Mrs. Knight, a celebrated singer and mistress of Charles II. There is in Waller's "Poems" a song sung by her to the Queen (28) on her birthday. In her portrait, engraved by Faber, after Kneller (21), she is represented in mourning, and in a devout posture before a crucifix. Evelyn (46) refers to her singing as incomparable, and adds that she had "the greatest reach of any English woman; she had been lately roaming in Italy, and was much improv'd in that quality" ("Diary", December 2nd, 1674).
Diary of Samuel Pepys 30 November 1667. 30 Nov 1667. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and then by coach to Arundel House, to the election of Officers for the next year; where I was near being chosen of the Council, but am glad I was not, for I could not have attended, though, above all things, I could wish it; and do take it as a mighty respect to have been named there. The company great, and the elections long, and then to Cary House, a house now of entertainment, next my Lord Ashly's (46); and there, where I have heretofore heard Common Prayer in the time of Dr. Mossum, we after two hours' stay, sitting at the table with our napkins open, had our dinners brought, but badly done. But here was good company. I choosing to sit next Dr. Wilkins (53), Sir George Ent, and others whom I value, there talked of several things. Among others Dr. Wilkins, talking of the universal speech, of which he hath a book coming out, did first inform me how man was certainly made for society, he being of all creatures the least armed for defence, and of all creatures in the world the young ones are not able to do anything to help themselves, nor can find the dug without being put to it, but would die if the mother did not help it; and, he says, were it not for speech man would be a very mean creature. Much of this good discourse we had. But here, above all, I was pleased to see the person who had his blood taken out. He speaks well, and did this day give the Society a relation thereof in Latin, saying that he finds himself much better since, and as a new man, but he is cracked a little in his head, though he speaks very reasonably, and very well. He had but 20s. for his suffering it, and is to have the same again tried upon him: the first sound man that ever had it tried on him in England, and but one that we hear of in France, which was a porter hired by the virtuosos. Here all the afternoon till within night. Then I took coach and to the Exchange, where I was to meet my wife, but she was gone home, and so I to Westminster Hall, and there took a turn or two, but meeting with nobody to discourse with, returned to Cary House, and there stayed and saw a pretty deception of the sight by a glass with water poured into it, with a stick standing up with three balls of wax upon it, one distant from the other. How these balls did seem double and disappear one after another, mighty pretty! Here Mr. Carcasse did come to me, and brought first Mr. Colwall, our Treasurer, and then Dr. Wilkins to engage me to be his friend, and himself asking forgiveness and desiring my friendship, saying that the Council have now ordered him to be free to return to the Office to be employed. I promised him my friendship, and am glad of this occasion, having desired it; for there is nobody's ill tongue that I fear like his, being a malicious and cunning bold fellow.
Thence, paying our shot, 6s. apiece, I home, and there to the office and wrote my letters, and then home, my eyes very sore with yesterday's work, and so home and tried to make a piece by my eare and viall to "I wonder what the grave", &c., and so to supper and to bed, where frighted a good while and my wife again with noises, and my wife did rise twice, but I think it was Sir John Minnes's (68) people again late cleaning their house, for it was past I o'clock in the morning before we could fall to sleep, and so slept. But I perceive well what the care of money and treasure in a man's house is to a man that fears to lose it. My Lord Anglesey (53) told me this day that he did believe the House of Commons would, the next week, yield to the Lords; but, speaking with others this day, they conclude they will not, but that rather the King (37) will accommodate it by committing my Lord Clarendon (58) himself. I remember what Mr. Evelyn (47) said, that he did believe we should soon see ourselves fall into a Commonwealth again. Joseph Williamson I find mighty kind still, but close, not daring to say anything almost that touches upon news or state of affairs.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 23 September 1668. 23 Sep 1668. At my office busy all the morning. At noon comes Mr. Evelyn (47) to me, about some business with the Office, and there in discourse tells me of his loss, to the value of £500, which he hath met with, in a late attempt of making of bricks1 upon an adventure with others, by which he presumed to have got a great deal of money: so that I see the most ingenious men may sometimes be mistaken.
So to the 'Change a little, and then home to dinner, and then by water to White Hall, to attend the Commissioners of the Treasury with Alderman Backewell (50), about £10,000 he is to lend us for Tangier, and then up to a Committee of the Council, where was the Duke of York (34), and they did give us, the Officers of the Navy, the proposals of the several bidders for the victualling of the Navy, for us to give our answer to, which is the best, and whether it be better to victual by commission or contract, and to bring them our answer by Friday afternoon, which is a great deal of work. So thence back with Sir J. Minnes (69) home, and come after us Sir W. Pen (47) and Lord Brouncker (48), and we fell to the business, and I late when they were gone to digest something of it, and so to supper and to bed.
1. At the end of the year 1666 a Dutchman of the Prince of Orange's party, named Kiviet (41), came over to England with proposals for embanking the river from the Temple to the Tower with brick, and was knighted by the King (38). He was introduced to Evelyn (47), whom he persuaded to join with him in a great undertaking for the making of bricks. On March 26th, 1667, the two went in search of brick-earth, and in September articles were drawn up between them for the purpose of proceeding in the manufacture. In April, 1668, Evelyn subscribed 50,000 bricks for the building of a college for the Royal Society, in addition to £50 given previously for the same purpose. No more information on the subject is given in Evelyn's "Diary"..
Diary of Samuel Pepys 15 February 1669. 15 Feb 1669. Up, and with Tom to White Hall; and there at a Committee of Tangier, where a great instance of what a man may lose by the neglect of a friend: Povy (55) never had such an opportunity of passing his accounts, the Duke of York (35) being there, and everybody well disposed, and in expectation of them; but my Lord Ashly (47), on whom he relied, and for whose sake this day was pitched on, that he might be sure to be there, among the rest of his friends, staid too long, till the Duke of York (35) and the company thought unfit to stay longer and so the day lost, and God knows when he will ever have so good a one again, as long as he lives; and this was the man of the whole company that he hath made the most interest to gain, and now most depended upon him. So up and down the house a while, and then to the plaisterer's, and there saw the figure of my face taken from the mould: and it is most admirably like, and I will have another made, before I take it away, and therefore I away and to the Temple, and thence to my cozen Turner's, where, having the last night been told by her that she had drawn me for her Valentine, I did this day call at the New Exchange, and bought her a pair of green silk stockings and garters and shoe-strings, and two pair of jessimy gloves, all coming to about 28s., and did give them her this noon. At the 'Change, I did at my bookseller's shop accidentally fall into talk with Sir Samuel Tuke about trees, and Mr. Evelyn's (48) garden; and I do find him, I think, a little conceited, but a man of very fine discourse as any I ever heard almost, which I was mighty glad of. I dined at my cozen Turner's, and my wife also and her husband there, and after dinner, my wife and I endeavoured to make a visit to Ned Pickering (51); but he not at home, nor his lady; and therefore back again, and took up my cozen Turner, and to my cozen Roger's (51) lodgings, and there find him pretty well again, and his wife mighty kind and merry, and did make mighty much of us, and I believe he is married to a very good woman. Here was also Bab. and Betty, who have not their clothes yet, and therefore cannot go out, otherwise I would have had them abroad to-morrow; but the poor girls mighty kind to us, and we must skew them kindness also. Here in Suffolk Street lives Moll Davis (21); and we did see her coach come for her to her door, a mighty pretty fine coach. Here we staid an hour or two, and then carried Turner home, and there staid and talked a while, and then my wife and I to White Hall; and there, by means of Mr. Cooling, did get into the play, the only one we have seen this winter: it was "The Five Hours' Adventure:" but I sat so far I could not hear well, nor was there any pretty woman that I did see, but my wife, who sat in my Lady Fox's pew1 with her. The house very full; and late before done, so that it was past eleven before we got home. But we were well pleased with seeing it, and so to supper, where it happened that there was no bread in the house, which was an unusual case, and so to bed.
1. We may suppose that pews were by no means common at this time within consecrated walls, from the word being applied indifferently by Pepys to a box in a place of amusement, and two days afterwards to a seat at church. It would appear, from other authorities, that between 1646 and 1660 scarcely any pews had been erected; and Sir C. Wren is known to have objected to their introduction into his London churches. B.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 16 March 1669. 16 Mar 1669. Up, and to the office, after having visited Sir W. Coventry (41) at the Tower, and walked with him upon the Stone Walk, alone, till other company come to him, and had very good discourse with him.
At noon home, where my wife and Jane gone abroad, and Tom, in order to their buying of things for their wedding, which, upon my discourse the last night, is now resolved to be done, upon the 26th of this month, the day of my solemnity for my cutting of the stone, when my cozen Turner must be with us. My wife, therefore, not at dinner; and comes to me Mr. Evelyn (48) of Deptford, a worthy good man, and dined with me, but a bad dinner; who is grieved for, and speaks openly to me his thoughts of, the times, and our ruin approaching; and all by the folly of the King (38). His business to me was about some ground of his, at Deptford, next to the King's yard: and after dinner we parted. My sister Michell (28) coming also this day to see us, whom I left there, and I away down by water with W. Hewer (27) to Woolwich, where I have not been I think more than a year or two, and here I saw, but did not go on board, my ship "The Jerzy", she lying at the wharf under repair. But my business was to speak with Ackworth, about some old things and passages in the Navy, for my information therein, in order to my great business now of stating the history of the Navy. This I did; and upon the whole do find that the late times, in all their management, were not more husbandly than we; and other things of good content to me. His wife was sick, and so I could not see her.
Thence, after seeing Mr. Sheldon, I to Greenwich by water, and there landed at the King's house, which goes on slow, but is very pretty1. I to the Park, there to see the prospect of the hill, to judge of Dancre's (44) picture, which he hath made thereof for me: and I do like it very well: and it is a very pretty place.
Thence to Deptford, but staid not, Uthwayte being out of the way: and so home, and then to the Ship Tavern, Morrice's, and staid till W. Hewer (27) fetched his uncle Blackburne by appointment to me, to discourse of the business of the Navy in the late times; and he did do it, by giving me a most exact account in writing, of the several turns in the Admiralty and Navy, of the persons employed therein, from the beginning of the King's leaving the Parliament, to his Son's coming in, to my great content; and now I am fully informed in all I at present desire. We fell to other talk; and I find by him that the Bishops must certainly fall, and their hierarchy; these people have got so much ground upon the King (38) and kingdom as is not to be got again from them: and the Bishops do well deserve it. But it is all the talk, I find, that Dr. Wilkins (55), my friend, the Bishop of Chester, shall be removed to Winchester, and be Lord Treasurer. Though this be foolish talk, yet I do gather that he is a mighty rising man, as being a Latitudinarian, and the Duke of Buckingham (41) his great friend. Here we staid talking till to at night, where I did never drink before since this man come to the house, though for his pretty wife's sake I do fetch my wine from this, whom I could not nevertheless get para see to-night, though her husband did seem to call for her. So parted here and I home, and to supper and to bed.
1. The old palace at Greenwich had just been pulled down, and a new building commenced by Charles II, only one wing of which was completed, at the expense of £36,000, under the auspices of Webb, Inigo Jones's kinsman and executor. In 1694 the unfinished edifice was granted by William and Mary to trustees for the use and service of a Naval Hospital; and it has been repeatedly enlarged and improved till it has arrived at its present splendour. B.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 29 March 1669. 29 Mar 1669. Up, and by water to White Hall; and there to the Duke of York (35), to shew myself, after my journey to Chatham, but did no business to-day with him: only after gone from him, I to Sir T. Clifford's (38); and there, after an hour's waiting, he being alone in his closet, I did speak with him, and give him the account he gave me to draw up, and he did like it very well: and then fell to talk of the business of the Navy and giving me good words, did fall foul of the constitution [of the Board], and did then discover his thoughts, that Sir J. Minnes (70) was too old, and so was Colonel Middleton, and that my Lord Brouncker (49) did mind his mathematics too much. I did not give much encouragement to that of finding fault with my fellow-officers; but did stand up for the constitution, and did say that what faults there were in our Office would be found not to arise from the constitution, but from the failures of the officers in whose hands it was. This he did seem to give good ear to; but did give me of myself very good words, which pleased me well, though I shall not build upon them any thing.
Thence home; and after dinner by water with Tom down to Greenwich, he reading to me all the way, coming and going, my collections out of the Duke of York's (35) old manuscript of the Navy, which I have bound up, and do please me mightily. At Greenwich I come to Captain Cocke's (52), where the house full of company, at the burial of James Temple, who, it seems, hath been dead these five days here I had a very good ring, which I did give my wife as soon as I come home. I spent my time there walking in the garden, talking with James Pierce, who tells me that he is certain that the Duke of Buckingham (41) had been with his wenches all the time that he was absent, which was all the last week, nobody knowing where he was. The great talk is of the King's being hot of late against Conventicles, and to see whether the Duke of Buckingham's (41) being returned will turn the King (38), which will make him very popular: and some think it is his plot to make the King (38) thus, to shew his power in the making him change his mind. But Pierce did tell me that the King (38) did certainly say, that he that took one stone from the Church, did take two from his Crown.
By and by the corpse come out; and I, with [his father-in-law] Sir Richard Browne (64) and Mr. Evelyn (48), in their coach to the church, where Mr. Plume preached. But I, in the midst of the sermon, did go out, and walked all alone, round to Deptford, thinking para have seen the wife of Bagwell, which I did at her door, but I could not conveniently go into her house, and so lost my labour: and so to the King's Yard, and there my boat by order met me; and home, where I made my boy to finish the my manuscript, and so to supper and to bed my new chamber-maid, that comes in the room of Jane; is come, Jane and Tom lying at their own lodging this night: the new maid's name is Matt, a proper and very comely maid... [Missin text "so as when I was in bed, the thought de ella did make me para hazer in mi mano."] This day also our cook-maid Bridget went away, which I was sorry for; but, just at her going she was found to be a thief, and so I was the less trouble for it; but now our whole house will, in a manner, be new which, since Jane is gone, I am not at all sorry for, for that my late differences with my wife about poor Deb. will not be remembered.
So to bed after supper, and to sleep with great content.
John Evelyn's Diary 27 November 1679. 27 Nov 1679. I went to see Sir John Stonehouse (40), with whom I was treating a marriage between my son (59) and his [his future daughter-in-law] daughter-in-law (20) [Note. Means step-daughter. [his future daughter-in-law] Martha Spencer 1659-1726 (20) was the daughter of Martha Briggs who re-married John Stonhouse 2nd Baronet 1639-1700 (40) after her first husband Richard Spencer Turkey Merchant 1604-1668 (75) died in 1668].
John Evelyn's Diary 30 December 1679. 30 Dec 1679. I went to meet Sir John Stonehouse (40), and give him a particular of the settlement on my son (59), who now made his addresses to the young [his future daughter-in-law] lady (20) his daughter-in-law [Note. Step-daughter], daughter of Lady Stonehouse.
John Evelyn's Diary 19 February 1680. 19 Feb 1680. The writings for the settling jointure and other contracts of marriage of my son (59) were finished and sealed. The [his future daughter-in-law] lady (21) was to bring £5,000, in consideration of a settlement of £500 a year present maintenance, which was likewise to be her jointure, and £500 a year after mine and my wife's (45) decease. But, with God's blessing, it will be at the least £1,000 a year more in a few years. I pray God make him worthy of it, and a comfort to his excellent mother (45), who deserves much from him!
On 14 Mar 1685 [his daughter] Mary Evelyn 1665-1685 (20) died of smallpox.
Before 27 Aug 1685 [his son-in-law] Unknown Tippett and Elizabeth Evelyn 1667-1685 were married.
On 27 Aug 1685 [his daughter] Elizabeth Evelyn 1667-1685 (17) died of smallpox.
In 1689 Godfrey Kneller 1646-1723 (42). Portrait of John Evelyn 1620-1706 (68).
On or before 27 Apr 1693 [his son-in-law] William Draper and Susannah Evelyn 1669-1754 (24) were married in St Ethedreda's Chapel Ely House by Thomas Tenison Archbishop of Canterbury 1636-1715 (56).
In 1699 [his son] John The Younger Evelyn 1655-1699 (43) died.
On 27 Feb 1706 John Evelyn 1620-1706 (85) died.
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. Returned to England, Evelyn strictly follows the line of the average English country gentleman, execrating the execution of Charles I., disgusted beyond measure with the suppression of the Church of England service, but submissive to the powers that be until there are evident indications of a change, which he promotes in anything but a Quixotic spirit. Although he is sincerely attached to the monarchy, the condition of the Church is evidently a matter of greater concern to him: Oliver Cromwell would have done much to reconcile the royalists to his government, had it been possible for him to have restored the liturgy and episcopacy. The same lesson is to be derived from his demeanor during the reigns of Charles and James. The exultation with which the Restoration is at first hailed soon evaporates. The scandals of the Court are an offense, notwithstanding Evelyn's personal attachment to the King. But the chief point is not vice or favoritism or mismanagement, but alliances with Roman Catholic powers against Protestant nations. Evelyn is enraged to see Charles missing the part so clearly pointed out to him by Providence as the protector of the Protestant religion all over Europe. The conversion of the Duke of York is a fearful blow, James's ecclesiastical policy after his accession adds to Evelyn's discontent day by day, while political tyranny passes almost without remark. At last the old cavalier is glad to welcome the Prince of Orange as deliverer, and though he has no enthusiasm for William in his character as King, he remains his dutiful subject. Just because Evelyn was by no means an extraordinary person, he represents the plain straightforward sense of the English gentry. The questions of the seventeenth century were far more religious than political. The synthesis "Church and King" expressed the dearest convictions of the great majority of English country families, but when the two became incompatible they left no doubt which held the first place in their hearts. They acted instinctively on the principle of the Persian lady who preferred her brother to her husband. It was not impossible to find a new King, but there was no alternative to the English Church.
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. There is little else in the Diary equally striking, though Evelyn's description of Whitehall on the eve of the death of Charles the Second ranks among the memorable passages of the language. It is nevertheless full of interesting anecdotes and curious notices, especially of the scientific research which, in default of any adequate public organization, was in that age more efficaciously promoted by students than by Professors. De Quincey censures Evelyn for omitting to record the conversation of the men with whom he associated, but he does not consider that the Diary in its present shape is a digest of memoranda made long previously, and that time failed at one period and memory at the other. De Quincey, whose extreme acuteness was commonly evinced on the negative side of a question, saw the weak points of the Diary upon its first publication much more clearly than his contemporaries did, and was betrayed into illiberality by resentment at what he thought its undeserved vogue. Evelyn has in truth been fortunate; his record, which his contemporaries would have neglected, appeared (1818) just in time to be a precursor of the Anglican movement, a tendency evinced in a similar fashion by the vindication, no doubt mistaken, of the Caroline authorship of the "Icon Basilike". Evelyn was a welcome encounter to men of this cast of thought, and was hailed as a model of piety, culture, and urbanity, without sufficient consideration of his deficiencies as a loyalist and a patriot. It also conduced to his reputation that all his other writings should have virtually perished except his "Sylva", like his Diary a landmark in the history of improvement, though in a widely different department. But for his lack of diplomatic talent, he might be compared with an eminent and much applauded, but in our times somewhat decrescent, contemporary, Sir William Temple. Both these eminent persons would have aroused a warmer feeling in posterity, and have effected more for its instruction and entertainment, if they could occasionally have dashed their dignity with an infusion of the grotesqueness, we will not say of Pepys, but of Roger North. To them, however, their dignity was their character, and although we could have wished them a larger measure of geniality, we must feel indebted to them for their preservation of a refined social type.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Of Evelyn's attempt to bring Colonel Morley (Cromwell's Lieutenant of the Tower, immediately preceding the Restoration) over to the King's interest, an imperfect account is given in the "Biographia". The fact is, that there was great friendship between these gentlemen, and Evelyn did endeavor to engage the Colonel in the King's interest. He saw him several times, and put his life into his hands by writing to him on 12th January 1659-60; he did not succeed, and Colonel Morley was too much his friend to betray him; but so far from the Colonel having settled matters privately with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, or General Monk, as there described, he was obliged, when the Restoration took place, actually to apply to Evelyn to procure his pardon; who obtained it accordingly, though, as he states, the Colonel was obliged to pay a large sum of money for it. This could not have happened, if there had been any previous negotiation with General Monk.
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. Evelyn's memoirs thus possess a value far exceeding the modest measure of worth allowed them by De Quincey: "They are useful as now and then enabling one to fix the date of a particular event, but for little besides". The Diary's direct contribution to historical accuracy is insignificant; it is an index, not to chronological minutiæ, but to the general progress of moral and political improvement. The editor of 1857 certainly goes too far in asserting that "All that might have been excluded from the range of his opinions, his feelings and sympathies embraced"; but it is interesting to observe the gradual widening of Evelyn's sympathies with good men of all parties, and to find him in his latter days criticising the evidence produced in support of the Popish Plot on the one hand, and deploring the just condemnation of Algernon Sydney on the other. It is true that, so far as the sufferings of his country are concerned, his attitude is rather that of the Levite than of the Samaritan; but more lively popular sympathies would have destroyed the peculiar value attaching to the testimony of the reluctant witness. We should, for example, have thought little of such a passage as the following from the pen of Burnet, from Evelyn it is significant indeed:—.
October 14, 1688. the King's birthday. No guns from the Tower as usual. The sun eclipsed at its rising. This day signal for the victory of William the Conqueror against Harold, near Battel in Sussex. The wind, which had been hitherto west, was east all this day. Wonderful expectation of the Dutch fleet. Public prayers ordered to be read in the churches against invasion.
It might be difficult to produce a nearer approximation in secular literature to Daniel's "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin"..
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Mr. Evelyn's employment as a Commissioner for the care of the Sick and Wounded was very laborious; and, from the nature of it, must have been extremely unpleasant. Almost the whole labor was in his department, which included all the ports between the river Thames and Portsmouth; and he had to travel in all seasons and weathers, by land and by water, in the execution of his office, to which he gave the strictest attention. It was rendered still more disagreeable by the great difficulty which he found in procuring money for support of the prisoners. In the library at Wotton, are copies of numerous letters to the Lord Treasurer and Officers of State, representing, in the strongest terms, the great distress of the poor men, and of those who had furnished lodging and necessaries for them. At one time, there were such arrears of payment to the victuallers, that, on landing additional sick and wounded, they lay some time in the streets, the publicans refusing to receive them, and shutting up their houses. After all this trouble and fatigue, he found as great difficulty in getting his accounts settled.2 In January 1665-6, he formed a plan for an Infirmary at Chatham, which he sent to Mr. Pepys, to be laid before the Admiralty, with his reasons for recommending it; but it does not appear that it was carried into execution.
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. Museums, nevertheless, have their uses, and Evelyn's comparatively jejune record has laid us under no small obligation. But for Pepys's amazing indiscretion and garrulity, qualities of which one cannot have too little in life, or too much in the record of it, Evelyn would have been esteemed the first diarist of his age. Unable for want of these qualifications to draw any adequate picture of the stirring life around him, he has executed at least one portrait admirably, his own. The likeness is, moreover, valuable, as there is every reason to suppose it typical, and representative of a very important class of society, the well-bred and well-conducted section of the untitled aristocracy of England. We may well believe that these men were not only the salt but the substance of their order. There was an ill-bred section exclusively devoted to festivity and sport. There was an ill-conducted section, plunged into the dissipations of court life. But the majority were men like Evelyn: not, perhaps, equally refined by culture and travel, or equally interested in literary research and scientific experiment, but well informed and polite; no strangers to the Court, yet hardly to be called courtiers, and preferring country to town; loyal to Church and King but not fanatical or rancorous; as yet but slightly imbued with the principles of civil and religious liberty, yet adverse to carry the dogma of divine right further than the right of succession; fortunate in having survived all ideas of serfdom or vassalage, and in having few private interests not fairly reconcilable with the general good. Evelyn was made to be the spokesman of such a class, and, meaning to speak only for himself, he delivers its mind concerning the Commonwealth and the Restoration, the conduct of the later Stuart Kings and the Revolution.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Of Evelyn's children, a son, who died at the age of five, and a daughter, who died at the age of nineteen, were almost prodigies. The particulars of their extraordinary endowments, and the profound manner in which he was affected at their deaths, may be seen in these volumes.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Evelyn was buried in the Dormitory adjoining Wotton Church.
On a white marble, covering a tomb shaped like a coffin, raised about three feet above the floor, is inscribed:
Here lies the Body.
of John Evelyn, Esq,.
of this place, second son.
of Richard Evelyn, Esq;.
who having serv'd the Publick.
in several employments, of which that.
of Commissioner of the Privy-Seal in the.
Reign of King James the 2d was most.
honourable, and perpetuated his fame.
by far more lasting monuments than.
those of Stone or Brass, his learned.
and usefull Works, fell asleep the 27 day.
of February 1705-6, being the 86 year.
of his age, in full hope of a glorious.
Resurrection, thro' Faith in Jesus Christ.
Living in an age of extraordinary.
Events and Revolutions, he learnt.
(as himself asserted) this Truth,.
which pursuant to his intention.
is here declared—.
That all is vanity which is not honest,.
and that there is no solid wisdom.
but in real Piety.
Of five Sons and three Daughters.
born to him from his most.
Mary, sole daughter and heiress.
of Sir Rich. Browne of Sayes.
Court near Deptford in Kent,.
onely one daughter, Susanna,.
married to William Draper.
Esq, of Adscomb in this.
County, survived him; the.
two others dying in the.
flower of their age, and.
all the Sons very young, except.
one named John, who.
deceased 24 March 1698-9,.
in the 45 year of his age,.
leaving one son, John, and.
one daughter, Elizabeth.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. When the Czar of Muscovy came to England, in 1698, proposing to instruct himself in the art of shipbuilding, he was desirous of having the use of Sayes Court, in consequence of its vicinity to the King's dockyard at Deptford. This was conceded; but during his stay he did so much damage that Mr. Evelyn had an allowance of £150 for it. He especially regrets the mischief done to his famous holly hedge, which might have been thought beyond the reach of damage. But one of Czar Peter's favorite recreations had been to demolish the hedges by riding through them in a wheelbarrow.
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. The two chief diarists of the age of Charles the Second are, mutatis mutandis, not ill characterized by the remark of a wicked wit upon the brothers Austin. "John Austin", it was said, "served God and died poor: Charles Austin served the devil, and died rich. Both were clever fellows. Charles was much the cleverer of the two". Thus John Evelyn and Samuel Pepys, the former a perfect model of decorum, the latter a grievous example of indecorum, have respectively left us diaries, of which the indecorous is to the decorous as a zoölogical garden is to a museum: while the disparity between the testamentary bequests of the two Austins but imperfectly represents the reputation standing to Pepys's account with posterity in comparison with that accruing to his sedate and dignified contemporary.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. From the numerous authors who have spoken in high terms of Mr. Evelyn, we will select the two following notices of him.
In the "Biographia Britannica" Dr. Campbell says, "It is certain that very few authors who have written in our language deserve the character of able and agreeable writers so well as Mr. Evelyn, who, though he was acquainted with most sciences, and wrote upon many different subjects, yet was very far, indeed the farthest of most men of his time, from being a superficial writer. He had genius, he had taste, he had learning; and he knew how to give all these a proper place in his works, so as never to pass for a pedant, even with such as were least in love with literature, and to be justly esteemed a polite author by those who knew it best"..
Horace Walpole (afterward Earl of Orford), in his Catalogue of Engravers, gives us the following admirably drawn character: "If Mr. Evelyn had not been an artist himself, as I think I can prove he was, I should yet have found it difficult to deny myself the pleasure of allotting him a place among the arts he loved, promoted, patronized; and it would be but justice to inscribe his name with due panegyric in these records, as I have once or twice taken the liberty to criticise him. But they are trifling blemishes compared with his amiable virtues and beneficence; and it may be remarked that the worst I have said of him is, that he knew more than he always communicated. It is no unwelcome satire to say, that a man's intelligence and philosophy is inexhaustible. I mean not to write his biography, but I must observe, that his life, which was extended to eighty-six years, was a course of inquiry, study, curiosity, instruction, and benevolence. The works of the Creator, and the minute labors of the creature, were all objects of his pursuit. He unfolded the perfection of the one, and assisted the imperfection of the other. He adored from examination; was a courtier that flattered only by informing his Prince, and by pointing out what was worthy of him to countenance; and really was the neighbor of the Gospel, for there was no man that might not have been the better for him. Whoever peruses a list of his works will subscribe to my assertion. He was one of the first promoters of the Royal Society; a patron of the ingenious and the indigent; and peculiarly serviceable to the lettered world; for, besides his writings and discoveries, he obtained the Arundelian Marbles for the University of Oxford, and the Arundelian Library for the Royal Society. Nor is it the least part of his praise, that he who proposed to Mr. Boyle the erection of a Philosophical College for retired and speculative persons, had the honesty to write in defense of active life against Sir George Mackenzie's 'Essay on Solitude.' He knew that retirement, in his own hands, was industry and benefit to mankind; but in those of others, laziness and inutility"..
John Evelyn's Diary Introduction. Evelyn's Diary practically begins where many think he had no business to be diarising, beyond the seas. The position of a loyalist who solaces himself in Italy while his King is fighting for his crown certainly requires explanation: it may be sufficient apology for Evelyn that without the family estates he could be of no great service to the King, and that these, lying near London, were actually in the grasp of the Parliament. He was also but one of a large family and it was doubtless convenient that one member should be out of harm's way. His three years' absence (1643-6) has certainly proved advantageous to posterity. Evelyn is, indeed, a mere sight-seer, but this renders his tour a precise record of the objects which the sight-seer of the seventeenth century was expected to note, and a mirror not only of the taste but of the feeling of the time. There is no cult of anything, but there is curiosity about everything; there is no perception of the sentiment of a landscape, but real enjoyment of the landscape itself; antiquity is not unappreciated, but modern works impart more real pleasure. Of the philosophical reflections which afterward rose to the mind of Gibbon there is hardly a vestige, and of course Evelyn is at an immeasurable distance from Byron and De Staël. But he gives us exactly what we want, the actual attitude of a cultivated young Englishman in presence of classic and renaissance art with its background of Southern nature. We may register without undue self-complacency a great development of the modern world in the æsthetical region of the intellect, which implies many other kinds of progress. It is interesting to compare with Evelyn's narrative the chapters recording the visit to Italy supposed to have been made at this very period by John Inglesant, who inevitably sees with the eyes of the nineteenth century. Evelyn's casual remarks on foreign manners and institutions display good sense, without extraordinary insight; in description he is frequently observant and graphic, as in his account of the galley slaves, and of Venetian female costumes. He naturally regards Alpine scenery as "melancholy and troublesome"..
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. As to his answer to Sir George Mackenzie's panegyric on Solitude, in which Mr. Evelyn takes the opposite part and urges the preference to which public employment and an active life is entitled,—it may be considered as the playful essay of one who, for the sake of argument, would controvert another's position, though in reality agreeing with his own opinion; if we think him serious in two letters to Mr. Abraham Cowley, dated 12th March and 24th August 1666, in the former of which he writes: You had reason to be astonished at the presumption, not to name it affront, that I, who have so highly celebrated recess, and envied it in others, should become an advocate for the enemy, which of all others it abhors and flies from. I conjure you to believe that I am still of the same mind, and that there is no person alive who does more honor and breathe after the life and repose you so happily cultivate and advance by your example; but, as those who praised dirt, a flea, and the gout, so have I public employment in that trifling Essay, and that in so weak a style compared with my antagonist's, as by that alone it will appear I neither was nor could be serious, and I hope you believe I speak my very soul to you.
sunt enim Musis sua ludicra mista Camœnis.
In the other, he says, "I pronounce it to you from my heart as oft as I consider it, that I look on your fruitions with inexpressible emulation, and should think myself more happy than crowned heads, were I, as you, the arbiter of mine own life, and could break from those gilded toys to taste your well-described joys with such a wife and such a friend, whose conversation exceeds all that the mistaken world calls happiness". But, in truth, Mr. Evelyn's mind was too active to admit of solitude at all times, however desirable it might appear to him in theory.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. It may be not altogether incurious to observe, that though Mr. Evelyn's [his father] father was a man of very considerable fortune, the first rudiments of this son's learning were acquired from the village schoolmaster over the porch of Wotton Church. Of his progress at another school, and at college, he himself speaks with great humility; nor did he add much to his stock of knowledge, while he resided in the Middle Temple, to which his father sent him, with the intention that he should apply to what he calls "an impolished study", which he says he never liked.
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Evelyn lived in the busy and important times of King Charles I, Oliver Cromwell, King Charles II, King James II, and King William, and early accustomed himself to note such things as occurred, which he thought worthy of remembrance. He was known to, and had much personal intercourse with, the Kings Charles II and James II; and he was in habits of great intimacy with many of the ministers of these two monarchs, and with many of the eminent men of those days, as well among the clergy as the laity. Foreigners distinguished for learning, or arts, who came to England, did not leave it without visiting him.
The following pages contribute extensive and important particulars of this eminent man. They show that he did not travel merely to count steeples, as he expresses himself in one of his Letters: they develop his private character as one of the most amiable kind. With a strong predilection for monarchy, with a personal attachment to Kings Charles II and James II, formed when they resided at Paris, he was yet utterly averse to the arbitrary measures of these monarchs.
Strongly and steadily attached to the doctrine and practice of the Church of England, he yet felt the most liberal sentiments for those who differed from him in opinion. He lived in intimacy with men of all persuasions; nor did he think it necessary to break connection with anyone who had ever been induced to desert the Church of England, and embrace the doctrines of that of Rome. In writing to the brother of a gentleman thus circumstanced, in 1659, he expresses himself in this admirable manner: "For the rest, we must commit to Providence the success of times and mitigation of proselytical fervors; having for my own particular a very great charity for all who sincerely adore the Blessed Jesus, our common and dear Saviour, as being full of hope that God (however the present zeal of some, and the scandals taken by others at the instant [present] affliction of the Church of England may transport them) will at last compassionate our infirmities, clarify our judgments, and make abatement for our ignorances, superstructures, passions, and errors of corrupt times and interests, of which the Romish persuasion can no way acquit herself, whatever the present prosperity and secular polity may pretend. But God will make all things manifest in his own time, only let us possess ourselves in patience and charity. This will cover a multitude of imperfections"..
John Evelyn's Diary Editor's Introduction. Dr. Campbell took some pains to vindicate Mr. Evelyn's book, entitled, "Navigation and Commerce, their Origin and Progress", from the charge of being an imperfect work, unequal to the expectation excited by the title. But the Doctor, who had not the information which this Journal so amply affords on this subject, was not aware that what was so printed was nothing more than an Introduction to the History of the Dutch War; a work undertaken by Evelyn at the express command of King Charles II, and the materials for which were furnished by the Officers of State. The completion of this work, after considerable progress had been made in it, was put a stop to by the King himself, for what reason does not appear; but perhaps it was found that Evelyn was inclined to tell too much of the truth concerning a transaction, which it will be seen by his Journal that he utterly reprobated. His copy of the History, as far as he had proceeded, he put into the hands of his friend, Mr. Pepys, of the Admiralty, who did not return it; but the books and manuscripts belonging to Mr. Pepys passed into the possession of Magdalen College, Cambridge.